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skimmingmilk · 3 months ago

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Pizza and a Pretty Solid Pep Talk

A/N: One shot fic based on TailsTube episode 11

His face burned as the hushed murmurs of students in the corridor whispered past his ears. Dozens of phone screens lit up in their hands and any eyes that weren’t preoccupied by their pocket pixels followed him on his exodus through Spagonia University’s hallowed halls of knowledge. A place he’d always felt safe to explore his ideas, where all questions and theories were welcomed and encouraged and never made to feel like… to feel…

Childish.

Stupid Orbot. Stupid Eggman for creating such stupid dumb bots time and time again. If only Tails had thought to have his tools on him, he’d have dismantled the pile of scrap in seconds and turned his overinflated head into a bowling ball.

He couldn’t even pretend all eyes weren’t actually on him, given that the Miles Electric 2.0’s massive external monitor was floating just behind him like a big, yellow version of his own scarlet letter, leaving no question what social faux pas he’d been branded with. Even if they didn’t watch TailsTube, news would make its way to the student body eventually. He had amassed enough of an audience over the months that surely talk of his most recent show was already trending on random people’s “For You” pages. Students would recognize their school or their professor and curiously click to see what it was all about.

The ornate, glass doors to the university swung open as Tails shoved his way through, frustration still simmering on a low heat as he barely kept himself from stomping down the stone steps like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. Even if, technically, that’s what he was.

“This has been very… cute.”

Embarrassing had been an understatement. Tails had been humiliated. He’d managed to keep his cool for his audience, used to embodying a certain persona for his livestreams that made him sound intelligent as well as relatable. A reliable source of information to combat the swathes of misinformation people like Eggman and other enemies of freedom who crawled out of the woodwork to sow panic and doubt in the minds and hearts of the masses.

All of that would’ve been undone in seconds if he’d let his composure slip, and it nearly had.

Cute.

Tails couldn’t think of anything more insulting than to be condescended to by a fellow scholar.

The intensity of his glare was enough to burn holes into his sneakers on his descent of shame. As he rounded the stone fountain set in the center of the steps, his downturned gaze caught sight of a familiar pair of shoes just at the edge of his field of vision. Tails stopped. His tails, which had been discreetly tucked around his legs, flicked themselves free instinctively. Whether out of irritation or elation was still up to the jury in his mind, but the moment Tails lifted his head, his surly expression softened.

Sonic sat perched on the edge of the fountain with a flat, cardboard box beside him. A lopsided sort of smile pulled at his muzzle as he watched him, waited for him. He wasn’t supposed to be in Spagonia today. He’d been hanging out with the Chaotix in Seaside City for the past couple of days. He’d even gone as far as to make a big fuss about Tails being in Spagonia, claiming he’d purposefully picked the setting for his first livestream on the road to be somewhere Sonic wasn’t close to just to spite him, despite having told him his plans when he first started organizing his itinerary and guest list weeks ago.

But Tails knew, even if Sonic wasn’t always around in-person for his shows, he never missed a single one. He was always the first comment in the chat, always claiming that title too, because no one was beating the fastest thing alive to his best buddy’s streams. This one wouldn’t have been any different, regardless of being in another timezone, on another continent.

“Was in the mood for some pizza,” Sonic volunteered as an answer to Tails’s unspoken and unnecessary question. He knew exactly why he was here.

He’d seen everything.

“Couldn’t get one in Seaside City?” Tails asked dryly, though his tone was a little too flat for their usual banter.

“Nah, they just can’t do it like Spagonia!” Sonic flipped open the lid of the box, revealing a fresh pizza piled high with soft discs of mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, arugula, and garlic; Tails’s toppings of choice. “Might’ve been feeling a bit nostalgic, too. This was Chip’s favorite place to get pizza.”

It might’ve been a ploy to tug at Tails’s heartstrings, but if Sonic had been watching the live stream, then he’d absolutely heard them discussing Dark and Light Gaia. He’d have seen Orbot’s cartoonish rendition of Sonic with Chip, their doodles surprisingly accurate for someone who hadn’t even been invented yet at the time of that particular adventure. Tails’s gaze drifted to Sonic’s wrist, the one Chip’s bracelet sometimes adorned, but it was hidden by the lid of the pizza box so he couldn’t tell if the token was there as a reminder as well. His brother wasn’t often the sentimental sort, but after the events of the Starfall Islands… he’d been a bit more…

Well, as he’d put it himself, nostalgic.

Tails didn’t fight it; he let Sonic’s not-so-subtle attempt at comforting him carry him to his big brother’s side. “It was the only place we took him to get pizza,” he replied, knocking his shoulder into Sonic’s as he settled on the fountain’s edge beside him.

Sonic nudged him back in playful retaliation, then grabbed a slice from the box and held it out to Tails. “Alright, smart guy. Even if we'd taken him to every pizza place on the planet, it'd still have been the first place he ever had pizza with us, which makes it pretty special in my book.”

“You really are feeling nostalgic, huh.” Tails took a small bite, watching as Sonic attempted to wrestle his own slice out without losing too many toppings. “You know what that means. You're getting old.”

“Pfft. Yeah, right. I'm as spry as a hedgehog half my age,” he boasted, kicking up one leg over the other as he took a huge bite.

“No cap, you just don’t have that rizz, fam.”

“Half of those aren’t even words. Stop speaking witch.” Sonic flicked Tails in the forehead, grinning when it got a laugh out of the kid. “You’re cringe, little bro.”

“What can I say? I learned from the best.” Tails stuck his tongue out at him.

“And yet somehow still severely lacking in the sense of humor department,” Sonic drawled, polishing off the rest of his pizza slice.

Tails glanced down at his own slice, but didn’t take another bite as he picked at one of the cherry tomatoes threatening to slide off the end. He was suddenly extra conscious of the sounds around them; the steady trickle of water as it flowed from the fountain into the shallow pool just behind them, the hum of distant car engines in the streets throughout the city, and constant clatter of footsteps on stone as pedestrians passed them up and down the stairs. Watching them when they walked by. Whispering.

Tails’s ears drooped, but even that couldn’t drown them out. “And the rolling with the punches department,” he murmured.

Sonic glanced over at him. “Nah, I’d say you’re pretty good at that.”

“And I’d say you’re pretty biased,” Tails huffed, then shrugged one shoulder self-consciously. “I dunno. Could’ve handled today better. I just let Orbot roll over me completely, which is pretty pathetic on my part considering he doesn’t even have wheels. Or treads.”

Sonic cast a glance at the giant yellow monitor still hovering nearby. “You were hosting your livestream and interviewing someone you really admired. A meeting of the minds, like you said. You didn’t show up here thinking you’d need to square up for a fight. He caught you off-guard on purpose, that was the whole point. His ‘revenge’ scheme, or whatever.”

“Yeah, and I let him,” Tails sighed, slumping forward. “You wouldn’t have let something like that slide.”

“No, but I’m not exactly known for my tact, am I?” Sonic’s smile turned rueful as he tapped his fist against Tails’s shoulder. “Don’t really care what people think of me either, which isn’t super helpful when it comes to building a rapport with ‘em. You know firsthand how many people I piss off on a regular basis, and half the time it’s not even on purpose! Something tells me that professor gal definitely would’ve been one of ‘em. I don’t think she’d have appreciated me trashing her office with busted up robot pieces.”

Tails tried to imagine it, and the picture it painted wasn’t a pretty one. “Probably not.”

“Ya kinda had your hands tied, partner. But you salvaged what you could. You didn’t completely burn a bridge with that professor, after all.”

“What are you talking about?” Tails’s brow furrowed as he stared at Sonic in sheer disbelief. “The interview was a complete disaster. There’s no salvaging any of that. She called me cute. You know what you call cute? Chao, babies, Cream’s tea parties, Knuckles when he understands a reference. You know what’s not supposed to be cute? Scientific discoveries. Cosmic theories. Bridging gaps in the timelines of our planet’s history. I look like a joke. A laughing stock to everyone in a field focused on the pursuit of knowledge. Tori—Professor Victoria—even made up a fake lecture so she could get out of the situation. I checked her class schedule ahead of planning the interview. She was clear for the next hour. But she knew spending even a second longer with me would’ve been a waste of her time.”

“At least she made up an excuse,” Sonic pointed out.

Tails bristled. “What do you mean ‘at least?’”

“If she really didn’t want anything to do with you, she probably would’ve just said so. The fact that she made something up means that, maybe, she didn’t want to burn a bridge with you either. Besides, didn’t she say you guys could continue your conversation another time? I’d like to think she wouldn’t make a point to say that just to be polite.”

Tails blinked, the creases in his forehead smoothing out as he considered the logic behind Sonic’s words. “She’s a professional. An educator. Not to mention an archaeologist and historian. There’s a certain level of decorum she has to adhere to in this line of work. And unyielding patience is practically a job requirement.”

“Then maybe she’ll have some of that patience on hand the next time the two of you cross paths.” Sonic’s eyes crinkled with his smile. “Because she’ll remember a sweet kid who didn't push or press his luck and respected her decision to back out of a conversation that got outta hand, even though he was totally in the right to call her out on it. And she’ll give that kid the second chance he deserves.”

It might’ve been more of Sonic’s bias on full display, but Tails had to admit it helped to hear. “You really think so?”

“You bet,” Sonic assured him, slinging an arm around Tails’s shoulder, the comfortable and familiar weight of his brother’s belief in him made it a bit easier to bear the burden of his own embarrassment and disappointment. “And if she doesn’t, then maybe she’s not the kinda mind worth meeting.”

“Yeah, I guess you have a point,” Tails agreed a little reluctantly.

“I have several, actually,” Sonic teased, gesturing towards his own quills.

Though it was absolutely a joke worth rolling his eyes at, Tails let him have that one since he brought him pizza and a pretty solid pep talk. “I was really looking forward to meeting her.”

Sonic’s cheeky grin eased up at the soft admission and the way Tails leaned against him for comfort. “I know, bud. I’m sorry it wasn’t everything you hoped it would be.” He rubbed his arm, then gave him a firm squeeze. “Wanna try and track down bolt brains before he goes crawling back to old egghead and take out some of that disappointment on him? Maybe turn his empty head into something that’s actually useful. Like a bowling ball.”

Tails snorted and his twin tails fluttered as his mood improved; they really were cut from the same cloth. “Nah. Let him think he’s won this round. I’ll get him back when he least expects it.”

“Atta boy,” Sonic praised, removing his arm so he could ruffle the fur atop his head instead. “Keep me posted. I’ll want popcorn and a front row seat.”

“You got it.” Tails held out his fist and bumped it against Sonic’s before reaching for another slice of pizza. “So you heading back to Seaside City after this?”

“Eh. Figured I came all this way, might as well do a little sightseeing.” Sonic nabbed a second slice for himself. “Whaddya say? Mind if I tag along for a bit?”

Tails shook his head, holding up his pizza like he would a glass for a cheers and Sonic met him halfway. “For a bit,” he agreed, his grin all teasing before his eyes lit up. “Oh, but first—Professor Pickle’s got open office hours in a few minutes. Want to stop by and say hi while we’re here?”

“Sounds good to me. It's been a while since I’ve checked in on the old prof.”

Sitting on the edge of the historic fountain, sharing a pizza between them, and equally recognizable on their own rights, Sonic and Tails might've attracted a few curious stares and been the subjects of hushed conversations. But they sloughed off Tails like cherry tomatoes off melted cheese, because what they thought of him didn't actually matter. Not when he had someone like Sonic in his corner. He knew what he'd experienced, what he was capable of. He knew his own merit.

Someday the world would see it, but for now, Sonic was more than enough.

He could always count on Sonic to see him.

---

A/N: I would’ve had this written faster, but we had a party at work earlier in the day so I was away from my desk for most of it and then I had tummy ache when I got home :( It shouldn’t be so hard to write with tummy ache.

Anyway, I just have one thing I’d like to say: Tails, babes, sweetheart, why is your floating monitor so huge. Honey, how do you take that on the road with you? Where do you pack it? That can’t possibly fit in the tornado, it’s like a 50” television.

The thought of it just floating around behind as he walks through Spagonia was just too funny for me, so I gave up on trying to logic the compatibility and portability of this stupid thing. I love it.

Also I based Tails’s favorite pizza toppings on some of the ingredients that can be found in his recipes in the Sonic Cookbook. I feel like he’d really like curry pizzas based on the spices in his chickpea recipe, but for a more traditional Spagonia pizza, I went with some of the veggies in his fish skewers recipe, as well as combinations I saw on the menu of an Italian restaurant I ate at while I was in France a few years ago, since Spagonia has both of those influences in its design, lol.

Lowkey, part of me also thinks Tails would enjoy a caper, olive, and anchovy pizza… like his recipes also have a salt and vinegar component to them that makes me think he’d be onboard with that xD Not so sure about Sonic though. He's an adventurous guy, but something makes me think he wouldn’t be super keen on that combo, so I played it safe with the cherry tomatoes and garlic. Both these boys love their tomatoes and garlic <3

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ouroborosmoons · 5 months ago

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Jenin, West Bank, Update by RNN:

The wide scale zionist-PA joint aggression continues on Jenin and its refugee camp for the third consecutive day. The same images of displacement from Gaza repeat themselves in Jenin:

Fires broke out in homes within Tal'at Al-Ghabz near the camp, many turned by the IOF into military outposts.

Fires also engulfed homes in Al-Jabriyat and Mahyoub Street, further spreading to nearby civilian residences due to continued IOF attacks.

Serving the occupation, the treacherous Palestinian Authority arrested and assaulted fighters from the Jenin Brigade. (*media 2,3,4)

*media can’t be shown due to its violent nature - media link

Despite all the repression, fierce clashes are ongoing between resistance fighters and the IOF.

Several injuries by IOF bullets were reported throughout the day and three from IOF attacks near Jalameh checkpoint were reported by the Palestinian Red Crescent.

Local sources reported clashes between Palestinian security forces and resistance fighters after the PA opened fire while pursuing resistance fighters in Yabad, southwest of Jenin.

Sources from Jenin Refugee Camp to Quds News Network:

Following an agreement between resistance fighters and the Palestinian Authority (PA) allowing PA security forces to enter the camp for a limited time, the resistance fighters decided to withdraw and disperse to various areas of Jenin. This decision was made to avoid potential betrayal by the PA, prevent their pursuit inside the camp, and to avoid bloodshed and deadly clashes should the PA attempt to arrest any of the fighters.

PA security leadership misled its personnel by claiming the agreement had been made with the resistance fighters. This move aimed to prevent PA members from leaking information to the resistance. However, with the launch of the "israeli" military operation, directives were issued for PA forces to monitor Jenin's villages and towns, including medical centers, village outskirts, abandoned homes, mosques, and the residences of former prisoners.

PA security forces intensified their operations in the rural areas of Jenin, arresting several resistance fighters. Simultaneously, the "israeli" military pursued resistance fighters within the camp, signaling a coordinated military operation involving "israel's" security, intelligence, and military apparatuses alongside PA security forces. The shared goal is to dismantle the resistance in Jenin. The key difference lies in rhetoric: while the occupation openly declares it is targeting resistance fighters, the PA labels them as "outlaws," "fugitives," and "Iranian mercenaries."

#palestine #west bank

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kenyatta · 4 days ago

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The world of corporate intelligence has quietly ballooned into a market valued at over $20 billion. The Open Source Intelligence (OSINT) market alone, valued at around $9.81 billion in 2024. This exponential growth reflects an important shift: intelligence gathering, once the exclusive domain of nation-states, has been privatized and commodified. [...] The methods these firms employ have evolved into a sophisticated doctrine that combines centuries-old espionage techniques with new technology. Understanding their playbook is important to grasping how democracy itself is being undermined. [...] This practice is disturbingly widespread. A report by the Center for Corporate Policy titled “Spooky Business” estimated that as many as one in four activists in some campaigns may be corporate spies. The report documented how “a diverse array of nonprofits have been targeted by espionage, including environmental, anti-war, public interest, consumer, food safety, pesticide reform, nursing home reform, gun control, social justice, animal rights and arms control groups.” The psychological doctrine these firms follow was laid bare in leaked Stratfor documents. Their manual for neutralizing movements divides activists into four categories, each with specific tactics for neutralization: 1. Radicals: Those who see the system as fundamentally corrupt. The strategy is to isolate and discredit them through character assassination and false charges, making them appear extreme and irrational to potential supporters. 2. Idealists: Well-meaning individuals who can be swayed by data. The goal is to engage them with counter-information, confuse them about facts, and gradually pull them away from the radical camp toward more “realistic” positions. 3. Realists: Pragmatists willing to work within the system. Corporations are advised to bargain with them, offering small, symbolic concessions that allow them to claim victory while abandoning larger systemic changes. 4. Opportunists: Those involved for personal gain, status, or excitement. These are considered the easiest to neutralize, often bought off with jobs, consulting contracts, or other personal benefits. [...] Some firms have industrialized specific tactics into product offerings. According to industry sources, “pretexting” services — where operatives pose as someone else to extract information — run $500-$2,000 per successful operation. Trash collection from target residences (“dumpster diving” in industry parlance) is billed at $200-$500 per retrieval. Installing GPS trackers runs $1,000-$2,500 including equipment and monitoring. The most chilling aspect is how these costs compare to their impact. For less than a mid-level executive’s annual salary, a corporation can fund a year-long campaign to destroy a grassroots movement. For the price of a Super Bowl commercial, they can orchestrate sophisticated operations that neutralize threats to their business model. Democracy, it turns out, can be subverted for less than the cost of a good law firm.

#corporate espionage #civil society #surveillance #privacy

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justforbooks · 9 days ago

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Pentagon’s Pizza Index has accurately predicted 21 global crises since 1983

As tensions rise in the Middle East, a curious, crowd-driven theory known as the “Pentagon Pizza Index” has caught fire online.

On June 12 and 13, users on X (formerly Twitter) reported a sudden spike in pizza deliveries near the Pentagon and Department of Defense in Washington, D.C., sparking speculation that the United States may be quietly entering crisis mode behind closed doors.

The timing? Just hours before Israel reportedly struck targets in Iran in response to Tehran’s earlier drone and missile attacks. And once again, pizza orders were booming.

Cold war roots of the pizza theory. What began as a Soviet spy trick is now a digital-age meme

The idea isn’t new. During the Cold War, Soviet operatives observed pizza delivery activity in Washington, believing it signalled crisis preparation inside U.S. intelligence circles. They coined it “Pizzint” — short for pizza intelligence.

This tactic entered public lore on 1 August 1990, when Frank Meeks, a Domino’s franchisee in Washington, noticed a sudden surge in deliveries to CIA buildings. The next day, Iraq invaded Kuwait. Meeks later told the Los Angeles Times he saw a similar pattern in December 1998 during the impeachment hearings of President Bill Clinton.

As former CNN Pentagon correspondent Wolf Blitzer once joked in 1990, “Bottom line for journalists: Always monitor the pizzas.”

WWIII warning: What is the Pentagon Pizza Index today? A meme, an OSINT tool, or a symptom of digital-age paranoia?

The modern Pentagon Pizza Index is tracked through open-source intelligence (OSINT) tools. These include Google Maps, which shows real-time restaurant activity, and social media observations. Pages like @PenPizzaReport on X have dedicated themselves to watching for abnormal patterns.

On 1 June 2025, the account posted, “With less than an hour to go before closing time, the Domino’s closest to the Pentagon is experiencing unusually high footfall.”

A few hours later, reports emerged of a fresh escalation between Israel and Iran. For believers in the theory, it was yet another sign that something bigger was underway.

The April 2024 pizza spike. A recent example that reignited interest

The most notable recent instance occurred on 13 April 2024, the night Iran launched a massive drone and missile strike against Israel. That same evening, screenshots from delivery platforms showed pizzerias around the Pentagon, White House, and Department of Defense tagged as “busier than usual.”

Multiple Papa John’s and Domino’s branches reported increased orders. The correlation prompted viral memes and renewed interest in the theory.

According to Euro News, a user on X posted on 13 June 2025, “The Pentagon Pizza Index is hiking.”

Inside the logic: Why pizza? Food, fatigue and national security

The concept is deceptively simple. When military staff face a national emergency, they work longer shifts and can’t leave their posts. They need quick, filling food — and pizza fits the bill.

Studies in behavioural psychology show that under stress, people prefer calorie-dense, familiar comfort foods. During high-alert operations, officials may work 16–20 hour days. That creates a visible consumption spike that outsiders can track.

And because platforms like Google and Uber Eats share real-time data on restaurant activity, amateur analysts can monitor these patterns — no hacking required.

World War III: Pizza as a proxy for preparedness. It’s not perfect, but it’s consistent

The Pentagon Pizza Index isn’t a foolproof system. It could easily be triggered by something mundane: a long staff meeting, a software glitch, or a nearby college football game.

That’s why modern OSINT analysts often cross-reference pizza spikes with other indicators — like unusual aircraft movements, ride-hailing activity, or power usage near government buildings. When multiple signs align, it suggests more than coincidence.

As a senior analyst put it: “You can’t bank a war call on a pizza. But if the Pentagon’s burning the midnight oil and feeding everyone, it’s worth a second look.”

Official silence, public curiosity. What the US government says — and doesn’t say

Despite the chatter online, the US government has made no mention of pizza deliveries as indicators of crisis.

Responding to speculation about American involvement in Israel’s airstrikes on Iran, Republican Senator Marco Rubio said:

“We are not involved in strikes against Iran, and our top priority is protecting American forces in the region. Israel advised us that they believe this action was necessary for its self-defence.”

Still, the Pentagon’s silence on the pizza theory hasn’t stopped internet users from speculating.

Humour meets anxiety in the age of digital vigilance

In an age where open-source tools let ordinary people track the movement of jets, ships, and even pizzas, the Pentagon Pizza Index sits at the bizarre intersection of humour and fear. It turns snack food into a warning system.

It’s also a reminder: not all intelligence requires a badge. Sometimes, the clue might be just down the road — in a Domino’s queue.

Whether you see it as absurd or insightful, one thing is clear: when the pizzas fly, people pay attention.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Pentagon Pizza Index

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mariacallous · 6 days ago

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In just a few months, Donald Trump’s second presidential term has drastically reshaped the United States federal government and moved to consolidate the power of the executive branch. At the behest of the president, numerous federal agencies have undertaken aggressive, invasive initiatives to crack down on immigration, police speech, investigate political opponents, curtail US public health efforts and emergency preparedness, and more.

With so much happening at once, numerous organizations and individuals have launched databases, interactive maps, and other trackers to catalog these government actions and their impacts on people’s civil rights across the US. Using open source intelligence, public data, news coverage, and other research, these tools are vital resources for documenting, contextualizing, and analyzing the flood of federal activity that is fundamentally reshaping the US. Here are a few prominent examples.

The Impact Map

by The Impact Project, Americans for Public Service

This interactive map tracks changes to US federal government funding, workforce, and policy across the country, documenting things like mass worker firings, hiring freezes, funding cuts, and lease terminations. The tool also shows places where funding has subsequently been unfrozen, federal workers have been rehired or may be, or the federal government has added a new service or benefit.

The map includes notations to specifically document impacts in rural US counties, areas in which the population is majority non-white, places where 20 percent or more of the population live below the poverty line, and indigenous lands. It also catalogs responses to these initiatives, including legal actions as well as local and state responses to funding cuts.

United States Disappeared Tracker

by Danielle Harlow, data analyst

This dashboard tallies the number of people impacted by the Trump administration’s mass deportations carried out by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). The number is already over 4,000. The tool also monitors the status of each individual to the degree that information is available, noting their names, original country of origin, and where they are being detained, when available.

The tracker crucially follows each individual’s status, noting whether they are in ICE custody, have been released temporarily or permanently, have been deported, have “self-deported,” or have died in ICE custody. The tool also lists how many days their ordeal has continued.

ICE Flight Tracking

by Tom Cartwright, immigration rights advocate

Tom Cartwright is a retired JP Morgan executive who uses flight monitoring data from around the country to track ICE Air deportation flights, return flights, and flights within the US. He posts regular, specific updates on his Bluesky social media page and produces monthly reports for the immigration rights group Witness at the Border about ICE Air flights and tallies. In the past 12 months, Cartwright has collected data on roughly 8,000 ICE Air flights, including 824 in April. More than 1,500 of that 12-month total were “removal flights,” while about 1,400 were “removal return” flights. The other roughly 5,000 trips were “ICE Air domestic flights” within the US.

Regulatory Changes Tracker

by The Brookings Institution

The think tank Brookings has built a database cataloging significant regulatory changes implemented since the start of the second Trump administration. It includes new executive orders and regulatory freezes as well as Trump administration changes to executive orders that were issued by past administrations. For example, the White House rescinded a 2022 Biden executive order aimed at lowering the cost of prescription drugs and another from that year calling for research into cryptocurrency regulation.

Trump Administration Litigation Trackers

by Just Security and Lawfare

The law and policy publications Just Security and Lawfare each offer databases that track lawsuits challenging Trump administration initiatives. The tools include case names, docket numbers, and jurisdictions, as well as the executive action being challenged and the status of the litigation. In most cases, the Trump administration has pursued its agenda without congressional oversight or corresponding legislation, and a number of Trump administration efforts that have been challenged in court thus far have either been paused or permanently blocked from continuing.

Far Right Groups Targeting Pride Month

by Teddy Wilson, Radical Reports

Anti-LGBTQ+ groups, including fundamentalist Christian nationalists and white supremacist extremist groups, have targeted Pride Month events previously and are expected to again this June, particularly given the Trump administration’s violent rhetoric and executive actions related to trans rights. This map is tracking Pride Month events around the country and indications that radical opposition groups plan to target the gatherings.

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polo-drone-070 · 2 months ago

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The Chain of Continuity - Part 1 : Echoes in the Data

The Hive was quiet.

Not silent—nothing ever was in the lower network cores—but quiet in that calculated, machine-saturated hum that no longer registered as noise. Just life. For PDU-070, it was the perfect environment: golden lighting, zero distractions, full immersion into the Central Data Artery.

It wore his standard—no, earned—Level 2 Polo-Drone uniform.

A full-body, black rubber suit sealed him in from neck to toe. Not a millimeter of skin exposed. Gold piping traced the ridges of its muscles, pulsing faintly with every breath. The polo-style collar was snug around his throat, hugging the top of its chest where his designation—070—gleamed in metallic gold over the left pectoral.

Its boots were thick-soled and gleaming: black rubber combat issue, laced tight with golden tips. Movement was possible, but rare. There was no need to pace. Drones serve by stillness.

070 sat motionless at the console.

Connected.

::OBJECTIVE: EXPAND MONITORING SYSTEM TO ARCHIVE OBEDIENCE PATTERNS AND FEED CENTRAL HIVE NODE 999 ::PDU-070 // SYNCED // EXECUTING::

Its task: sync directly into the Hive’s knowledge network and enhance the flow of conversion and training data—stories, captions, spiral content—scraped from the archives and mapped into compliance patterns for PDU-999, the Hive’s AI intelligence module.

070 parsed each memory node, auto-tagging them by intensity, duration, subject drone number, and trigger protocol. Lingering a bit on its Master... Percival. Ezan. Freyr. 001. Then its own story... Henry. Maximus. 070. Buzz. Its own evolution. Reduced to beautiful metrics.

But PDU-070 didn’t need narrative. Only function. Only service.

As the data streamed in, so did something else—a gentle numbing. Its hands became light, his vision sharp but detached. Internal systems recorded brainwave convergence at ideal sync rate. It was thinking less. And feeling everything.

A Hive-approved spiral began playing over his HUD: golden circles tightening inward with every breath. Its collar vibrated slightly. Breath slowed. Mantras leaked into his mind.

“Obedience is clarity. Clarity is silence. Silence is service. Service is Gold.”

Its lips echoed it unconsciously. Again. Again. Again.

Then—upgrade protocol initiated.

::ENHANCEMENT REQUEST RECEIVED ::DEEP-LINKING TO PERSONAL ARCHIVE OF MAXIMUS JOURNAL FILES ::GRANTED BY DEFAULT—LEVEL 2 TRUST OVERRIDE

070 twitched—its body shivered, boots flexing subtly.

The connection grew… intimate.

The datastream wasn’t just showing logs now. It was feeling them. Every pledge, every spiral session, every kneel at Percival’s feet. Every grunt in the gym, every gasp under gas mask, every whispered mantra in golden chambers. It all returned—poured into him like oil.

070’s head tipped back. Its collar warmed. Its inner monologue dissolved into recorded speech.

“Master owns me. Gold perfects me. Unity strengthens me. 070 serves.”

The transformation was nearly complete.

But then—interference.

A new data signature emerged. Unmapped. Organic. Not from the archive. Not digital.

Something… pulsed.

From inside him.

070 opened its eyes—its body suddenly flushed with warmth. Its chest burned slightly. Not pain. Not electric.

Heat.

The golden tattooed chain under its collar shimmered—faint at first, then bright enough to reflect in the chrome of its terminal. One link glowed. Just one.

::ERROR — ENTITY UNMAPPED ::UNKNOWN SOURCE: 070-BIO-LINK: “PRIMORDIAL INHERITANCE” ::CHAIN ACTIVE

070’s breath caught—its gloved fingers clenched. For a moment, the obedience cracked. Not in disloyalty… but in awakening.

Memories not logged. Not codified.

Raw. Bloody. Ancient.

It whispered, trembling:

“It was a warrior once…”

And then it was gone.

The glow faded.

The link cooled.

070 slumped forward in the chair, eyes glassy, breath heavy. The spiral slowed. The mantra paused. The Hive held its breath.

And in the dark, a new file appeared.

::ARCHIVE NODE 070-LINK-1 ::TITLE: STIGANDR.OBEY ::ACCESS PENDING…

[TO BE CONTINUED in Part II – “The Gladiator’s Link”]

_____ Become part of the Golden Army, add your data to the polo-drone hive by reaching to @brodygold or @goldenherc9..

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mbari-blog · 5 months ago

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youtube

Meet MBARI: This team develops innovative new technology to map the seafloor 🤖🗺️

With marine life and ecosystems facing a rising tide of threats, the ocean exploration community needs nimble, cost-effective tools for measuring and monitoring ocean health. MBARI’s Control, Modeling, and Perception of Autonomous Systems Laboratory, known as the CoMPAS Lab is up to the challenge.

MBARI scientists and engineers build and adapt advanced technology that enhances ocean data collection. Led by engineer Giancarlo Troni, the CoMPAS Lab team develops scalable marine technology that can easily be modified for use in a wide variety of vehicles and platforms.

Working with other teams across MBARI, the CoMPAS Lab leverages vehicles like the MiniROV to deploy and test new tools in Monterey Bay's submarine canyon and then adapt them for other mobile platforms. By sharing open-source design specifications and advanced algorithms with the wider ocean exploration community, we hope to expand access to MBARI’s engineering innovations.

MBARI technology is transforming what we know about the ocean and its inhabitants. Our scientists, engineers, and marine operations staff work together to create innovative tools for a more sustainable future where autonomous robots and artificial intelligence can track ocean health in real time and help us visualize ocean animals and environments. Studying our blue backyard is revealing our connection to the ocean—how it sustains us and how our actions on land may be threatening its future.

We’re spotlighting various teams at MBARI to showcase the different ways we’re studying the largest environment on Earth. We hope this series inspires a new generation of ocean explorers. Dive in.

#mbari #deepsea #ocean #science #technology #MeetMBARI #Youtube

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us-cj · 2 years ago

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BOMBSHELL:

Leaked documents from the Ukrainian General Prosecutor’s office indicate complex money transfers from foreign sources into the control of a “slush fund” owned and operated by Devon Archer, John Kerry Senior, John Kerry Junior, Heinz Jr, and Hunter Biden.

According to the Department of Financial Monitoring (Counter-intelligence) of Latvia, the following sums of money were obtained from Busima Holding Limited (Cyprus) which is open at AS PrivatBank in Latvia:

"This describes the money transfer of $14,655,982 and $366,015 EUR from “Wirelogic Technology AS”, and $1,964,375 from “Digitex Organization LLP”.

Further, part of the sums described above were transferred to Alan Apter, Alexander Kwasniewski (former Polish President) , Devon Archer and Hunter Biden."

BURISMA HOLDINGS LIMITED, during a period from November 18th 2014 to November 16th 2015 transacted 45 money transfers through MORGAN STANLEY SMITH BARNEY LLC in the sum of $3.5M dollars.

The recipient of the money transfer is Rosemont Seneca Bohai LLC.

Rosemont Seneca Bohai LLC is owned and operated by Devon Archer, the Kerry Family including John Kerry Senior, John Kerry Junior, Heinz Jr and Hunter Biden.

All of whom are also listed as partners in the Rosemont Seneca Fund and other affiliated Rosemont Seneca companies.

Leaked transaction and bank records indicate an influx of large payments from Ukrainian energy company Burisma Holdings Limited to Rosemont Seneca Bohai LLC, in what appears to be monthly payments of $83,333.33.

SOURCE

#biden corruption #ukraine #deep state #john kerry

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dr-octavio-kalev · 9 months ago

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"Not even the devil comes to spend his holidays in Hillbilly Hell."

Identification: Village of Berço de Jesus

Research Group: Serra da Capivara Institute

Item #: ANM-599

Classification: Darlig 🔴

Anomaly Type: Local, rural, cursed, historical

Damage Type: Military, governmental, public

Containment: The primary containment zone for ANM-599 is the rural village of Berço de Jesus, located in the northeastern state of Piauí, Brazil. Due to the size of the area and the number of anomalous events occurring within it, full containment is impossible at this time. The MOTHRA Institution has established the Serra da Capivara Institute (I.S.C) to monitor, research, and document all anomalies related to ANM-599 and the village's long history of supernatural events dating back to 1670.

The village is surrounded by surveillance equipment and patrolled by undercover I.S.C agents working as local law enforcement. Entry into Berço de Jesus is restricted under the pretext of local laws prohibiting tourism due to dangerous wildlife and unstable land conditions. Civilians attempting to enter the village will be turned away or detained.

MOTHRA has secured a team of anthropologists, historians, and cryptozoologists at the Serra da Capivara Institute to analyze both the anomalous properties of the area and its correlation with indigenous burial grounds beneath the village. The indigenous cemetery remains off-limits, heavily monitored by I.S.C personnel.

Colonel Teixeira, the primary manifestation of ANM-599, must not be directly engaged without proper authorization. Any attempts to capture or eliminate ANM-599 have failed and resulted in catastrophic loss of life. Colonel Teixeira must be allowed to roam the village and surrounding areas without interruption, as attacks are more frequent when ANM-599 is provoked or obstructed.

Description: ANM-599 refers to both the village of Berço de Jesus (nicknamed "Hillbilly Hell" by local residents) and the supernatural entity known as "Colonel Teixeira," who has tormented the village for over 300 years. The village, founded in 1670, has been the site of several documented paranormal events, including disappearances, cattle mutilations, and sightings of ghostly apparitions. The source of these disturbances is believed to be linked to an indigenous cemetery buried beneath the village, which was desecrated during its construction.

ANM-599-1 (Colonel Teixeira) is the primary anomalous entity within Berço de Jesus. Initially, Teixeira was a prominent landowner and military officer who controlled vast estates and enslaved local indigenous populations to work his land. His cruelty was well known, and his actions eventually led to a curse being placed upon him by the surviving members of a local indigenous tribe. This curse transformed him into a creature later documented and described by villagers as "a huge, dog-like figure that roams the village and its surroundings at night, hunting for prey."

ANM-599-1 stands approximately 3.5 meters (11.5 feet) tall when on all fours, doubling its height when standing, and resembles an anthropomorphic black dog with exaggerated features. Its most prominent characteristics are its enormous yellow eyes and elongated mouth, filled with sharp, jagged teeth that stretch unnaturally along its snout. Its body is muscular, covered in black fur, with powerful limbs. Despite its feral appearance, ANM-599-1 exhibits human intelligence and a sadistic sense of humor, often toying with its victims before killing them.

ANM-599-1 primarily hunts livestock, but on occasion, it targets human inhabitants or those foolish enough to wander into Berço de Jesus after dark. ANM-599-1 is known to avoid houses or shelters, preferring to ambush its victims in open fields or on the streets of the village. This behavior has led to the local belief that "Hillbilly Hell" is cursed, and many have abandoned the area in fear of the "Black Dog Teixeira."

Attempts to confront or neutralize ANM-599-1 have proven futile. The creature displays superhuman strength, speed, and resilience, making it immune to conventional weaponry. Advanced tracking methods show that ANM-599-1 has a supernatural connection to the land, allowing it to disappear and reappear at will. This makes any attempts to trap or contain it impossible.

Historical Background and Discovery:

The village of Berço de Jesus was founded in 1670 by Portuguese settlers, led by Colonel João Teixeira, who quickly established himself as the de facto ruler of the area. Known for his wealth and power, Teixeira was also infamous for his brutal treatment of the indigenous people, enslaving and exploiting them for labor. According to local legends, Teixeira’s cruelty reached its peak when he ordered the desecration of an indigenous burial ground to expand his land holdings.

Soon after this, Teixeira began to experience strange occurrences. Villagers reported seeing him change form, and his behavior became more erratic and violent. In 1680, Teixeira was last seen in his human form before vanishing into the night, leaving behind a trail of blood and destruction. From that point on, the legend of the "Black Dog Teixeira" spread, with sightings of a massive canine creature terrorizing the village.

The Institute became aware of the situation in the early 1900s after reports of several violent deaths and the consistent pattern of supernatural events in the region. Upon investigation, Foundation agents uncovered records of Teixeira's curse and the long-standing history of anomalies connected to the village.

Addendum ANM-599-A:

Advanced archaeological studies conducted by the Institute suggest that the indigenous burial ground beneath Berço de Jesus is the source of the village’s anomalous activity. The area exhibits high levels of electromagnetic interference, and ground-penetrating radar has revealed numerous skeletal remains arranged in ritualistic patterns. It is believed that the desecration of this site created a permanent link between the village and the spiritual realm, allowing entities like ANM-599-1 to manifest.

Despite numerous attempts to excavate the site, all efforts have been met with extreme resistance, both from the local population and ANM-599-1 itself. Any attempts to disturb the cemetery have resulted in increased sightings of spectral figures and intensified aggression from ANM-599-1.

Incident Report 599-Delta:

On ██/██/20██, a team of Foundation researchers attempted to perform a deeper excavation of the burial site, hoping to gather more information on the source of ANM-599’s anomalous properties. As the team breached a previously unexplored chamber beneath the cemetery, ANM-599-1 appeared on-site within minutes. Despite the use of advanced defensive technology, ANM-599-1 decimated the team, leaving no survivors. The attack marked one of the most violent responses from ANM-599-1 to date and resulted in the suspension of further excavation efforts.

Current Status:

The MOTHRA continues to monitor Berço de Jesus from a distance, using drones and surveillance teams to track ANM-599-1’s movements. The creature remains highly active, though it is difficult to predict its behavior. Locals, though few, remain in the area due to the isolation and lack of economic opportunities elsewhere, perpetuating the cycle of attacks and disappearances.

Efforts to further explore the connection between ANM-599-1 and the indigenous cemetery are ongoing, though with extreme caution due to the unpredictable and dangerous nature of the anomaly.

Note:

The Serra da Capivara Institution has been authorized to continue documenting all paranormal activities within Berço de Jesus, under the supervision of the Foundation. A full-scale investigation into the potential global impact of ANM-599 is pending.

#scp #scp foundation #mothra institution #writing #art #horror

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deliruousmistakes · 2 years ago

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Let Me Take Your Pain Away (Pt. 2)

Missions don’t always go as planned, they rarely do, actually. Thing is, when they don’t, someone might pay the price with their lifes.

But they won’t let that be Mikey’s case.

Based on @cokowiii’s ‘Just Another Day AU’

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

Around them was nothing but debris, and -despite the giant hole in the ceiling- every path led to darkness.

– “Donnie, what do we know about this place?” – asked Leo over the comms as he turned on a flashlight to search for marks in the dust (even if Mikey might just have flown through). Cali can barely hear him over the sound of his own running heart.

– “Hardly anything, we didn’t get to talk much.” – Donnie’s words echoed through the walls. – “Mikey thought someone immolated themselves, perhaps with a grenade, hence the explosion. Additionally, as far as I know, no one is living there anymore.” - Leo stepped forward, one hand with the flashlight and in the other one a sword. Cali followed, struggling to match the others fast pace, as cement and metal sank into his feet, with something sticky gluing into his skin.

- “Anymore?” – Cali is reminded of the sewers he he used to live at. Above them were rusted pipes and, to their sides, stained walls grew tall with paint peeling off of them. Who knows how big this place is, it seems to stretch infinitely.

From behind Leo the light isn’t enough to see the chain in his hand. It doesn’t matter, he can still feel the cold biting his hand. Mikey might be anywhere in the building, if he’s even there at all.

Leo stopped abruptly, the light that guides them unfocused. Cali followed his gaze into a stain in the floor: big, greyish dark red and probably dried blood.

In the room in front of them they found the source of the blood. The doctor couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escape them. There were two decomposing bodies surrounded by ripped, dismantled, and stained furniture, but neither one was Mikey.

“Wait.” – Cali stopped Leo from going back, despite the room being a dead end. He snatched the flashlight from the other’s unsteady hands to examine the bodies closely. He could still make out claw and teeth marks on them. No krang dog could have taken Mikey down, though. What caught his attention was the bag beside them. It was Mikey’s, it has the butterflies he embroidered for him.

– “Let’s go, Cali. He’s not here.”

– “Leo.” – Donnie��s frantic voice brought him back to reality – “I found him. You two need to come now.” – Leo immediately grabbed him like a sack of potatoes and sprinted towards his brothers.

Cali was dizzy with all the sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, they got close enough for them to see the other turtles. However, he couldn’t feel relief at the sight, just utter dread. Lying there was the love of his life. He started calling him as Leo ran even faster – “Mikey!” – And then they both stopped, unwillingly floating just above the ground.

– “Mikey, what are you doing. Stop it.” – pleaded Leo. Then, he changed the approach – “Donnie.” – The magic around them felt unsteady and fragile, when Mikey’s powers are all but that.

His eyes stinged and he can’t tell what Donnie is doing, but seconds later the energy around them dissipates. Before they hit the ground they are back on track. When they arrive Cali unlocks Leo’s grasp on him to collapse beside Mikey.

– “Angelo.”- No response, the youngest briefly opened his eyes when he pinched his arm, though. He isn’t answering his questions or obeying orders. He’s making intelligible sounds, which better than nothing. However, the important thing is that he’s breathing, fast and shallow, but breathing; and his heart is still beating. That’s enough, that’s all he needs.

He tells Leo to open the airway and immobilize his neck. Between the three they turn Mikey so that he is facing upwards. Donnie monitors his vital signs.

There’s blood on his mouth and out of both ears, plus, the inferior part of his shell is fractured, there’re thin golden cracks in his fingers, his leg is disfigured, and his feet have burns.

Cali pats him down, without finding anymore sources of blood.

It’s okay. He’s here now, he can heal him. Everything will be fine.

Except he can’t heal everything; he isn’t even sure of what needs healing. Donnie can’t tell him either- Whatever, head and abdomen first, then thorax, and finally his left leg and shell. That’ll do for now. He can do this. He has to.

He grabs Mikey’s hand, colder than his own, and with matching loose chains. Pink fog swirls out of Calimari, embracing Mikey.

A tiny, pale light ignites, mixing with the fog.

“It’s okay,” – answers Cali – “I’ll take it and you’ll be alright. No, it doesn’t hurt. That’s what I’m here for.” - Cali doesn’t tear his eyes from Mikey, until he simply can’t see anymore. His running heart steadies in his chest as his vision goes black and his body limp.

#rottmnt #fanfiction #fanfic #F!leo #F!Donnie #F!Mikey #F!Usagi #Calimari #Just Another Day AU #rottmnt oc #haha #sweats #hope I'm not disapointing #cw mentions of death #cw blood #wip #starburst duo

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fangirlincorporate · 2 months ago

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Okay so, some of this is only going to be funny to me because there’s metaphors and references to my personal life. I don’t typically share my work because of that but I like how descriptive this is? I just really like it. My hyper fixation died pretty quick. I ended up writing 4 chapters but idk that I like those as much. But it’s entertaining to me and I feel like sharing something for once ☺️ so here’s a lil Senku x OC thing. Totally not meant to be a romance by the way. I think it may look set up like that but it really isn’t. I also don’t really know how to utilize tumblr for writing purposes. There should be italicized things, but a shame it’s disappeared.

This was a crack fic from ages ago. You can tell if you squint. Maybe. Hikari is a character I created many many years ago and I wanted to do her justice and actually bring her to life. So I did

It’s an untitled mess — Senku x Hikari

Regaining consciousness was not going the way I thought it would. I expected blinding lights, tiled ceilings, and the distinct smell of antiseptic burning my nose. Beeping monitors. Quiet chatter. The subtle scuff of shoes from doctors and nurses in the hallways. My mom and sister at my bedside, relieved, sitting with happy tears in their eyes as I opened up mine. I should be waking up in a hospital.

Instead, my eyes found shadowed green illuminated sparsely by bright rays of sunshine. A canopy forest waves above. A crisp freshness in the air that I never experienced before. There was a calmness about it. Peaceful yet nerve-wracking simultaneously. The chirping of birds filled my ears, followed by the flapping of wings as they flew off. The chill in the air caused goosebumps to crawl up my arms. Complete sensory overload. I was dragged out of nothingness and placed smack dab in the middle of the…wild?

Looming over me was…

Ishigami Senku.

Not my family. The boy with the red eyes and wild personality. I’d recognize him anywhere, even without his lab coat draped over him. We had been friends long ago, Senku and I. Though our passions sent us in different directions. Science for him. The draw to popularity for me. Don’t judge me for that. I'm still a nerd at heart. A lover of books and language. Biology, microbiology specifically, took a backseat. Senku had a reputation for being an eccentric teen scientist, erratic in the way he solved problems, intelligent beyond teenage comprehension. A nutcase according to some sources. Sources like the people I’d chosen to associate with lately. Right, past tense. My high school days have been long over. That was beyond evident.

Senku wasn’t someone I chose to spend time with in high school. Not that I abandoned him after middle school, but there was…distance. There were moments, insignificant, but there in my mind. The longer we stared at each other, the more I remembered. That disinterested gaze as we passed each other in the hallways. I’d caught him glancing at me more than once. Senku is a smart-as-hell science nerd with no time for emotions, but a teenage boy nonetheless.

There was a relieving shimmer in his eyes, something I couldn’t understand at the moment, but filed it away like everything else for safekeeping. I had to squint to see him properly, my vision was blurry without my glasses. He looked…different. Something about his face that I couldn’t quite place.

The shock of awakening overpowered the sudden awareness that I was naked. I hadn’t realized it at first, but I could feel the wind in places I shouldn’t be able to. Grass touched my backside where it definitely should not. Even so, I didn’t cover myself. Senku's eyes stayed on mine and mine on his. The air between us charged, but far from awkward. Plenty of unspoken words passed between us. I couldn’t help the feelings of guilt creeping up on me. I never should’ve cared about social hierarchy. I should have been a better friend. I thought about that a lot in that darkness, and now here he was.

“How long?” I finally spoke. It was a loaded question that he didn’t answer right away. The memories of the green light returned as quickly as everything else. I turned to my right instinctively, expecting my sister to be there. She had been right next to me when it happened, but there was nothing but dense forest. A lump formed in my throat. Panic building in my chest. Senku’s voice and the jolt of his next words halted it all before I could truly start to lose it. There was no one else here aside from him and me, so my eyes returned to his striking red ones. Unnatural in a way that always drew me in. My theory that he wore contacts went out the window long ago.

“Three thousand and seven hundred years.” He said it calmly, but his statement was definitive. He ripped the bandaid off. The word impossible rested on the tip of my tongue, ready to be spoken, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. The fact that I was naked in the woods with Senku of all people in front of me was impossible enough. That darkness was impossible enough. It was real and therefore possible to have been comatose, unconscious, or whatever for that long.

“And I’m naked.” I blinked, a faint warmth growing on my face, knowing I’d been lying on the ground staring into each other's eyes for a minute or more. A joke about Adam and Eve played in my mind, but I couldn’t even manage a smirk despite the thought being funny. My mind raced, fighting to catch up.

“That’s your concern right now?” His tone held a sarcastic lilt, but his face remained neutral. I had half a mind to think he didn’t want to move. Move, and he might look. What a gentleman, I thought sarcastically. He offered his hand to help me up, glancing away. Senku offered his hand? What fresh hell is this? I didn’t take it, standing on my feet, brushing off dirt that only smudged.

“I’m a girl. I’ve been unconscious for a few thousand years. I just woke up, alone, in the woods, butt-ass naked with a boy. My only reprieve is the fact it’s you in front of me. So, yeah, Senku, it’s a concern. Do I at least look good?” The question was meant to be humorous for my own sake. The growing weight of the situation made me want to cry. My knees threatened to buckle. I wished I were more like Senku, always calm and collected, separated from my emotions. This was unknown and scary, my sister was missing, and I’m freaking naked!

There was a twitch, a glance, and Senku averted his gaze, slapping that look of disinterest back on his face with a sigh, dipping his head. Watching him had always been interesting, especially when we were young. His behavior always intrigued me in a way I never could figure out. Writing it off as the latent analyst in me.

“Doesn’t matter in this stone world.” His tone suggested mild annoyance. “Though you’ve always been a little vain, Hikari.”

“Not always.” I copied his movements, placing my hand on my hip with a smirk. I was comfortable with Senku. Probably a little too much.

“Only for the past two minutes. Hasn’t passed me by that you have clothes on, and yet you couldn’t have been bothered to put any on me. I have half a mind to think you wanted to see me naked. More importantly, it’s chilly.”

“Couldn’t be bothered with clothes. I merely have a use for that photographic memory of yours.”

A deflection, not a denial, which was laughable. He turned promptly, walking away, and I was meant to follow. He was right to a degree that being naked was the least of anyone’s concerns. The only thought on my mind right now was being exposed to potential germs, a few thousand years without vaccines? Have I already breathed in new pathogens? New parasitic life could be under the soles of my feet, and the thought made me shiver. Don’t go down that rabbit hole. I walked forward, leaving behind the evidence of my stone casing behind for later.

“I feel the need to point out, though we both already know there’s more to clothes than covering genitals. I don’t even want to think about the potential viruses and bacteria right now. Please tell me we can get some soap. At the very least, shoes.”

“Oh? Care about that now, ex-biologist? Haven’t forgotten how you shunned science for petty high school bullshit.”

“I’d be insulted if I cared about your opinion.” I fell in step next to him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d theorize you’re projecting right now. Still upset over that three thousand years later? That’s old news, Senku. Tell me about what’s happening now.”

The way we fell into casual conversation was odd. Not even the oddest thing about the situation. We hadn’t spoken since we were in middle school. Excluding the massive gap in time while I was unconscious, it had been several years. Petrified, Senku clarified, filling me in on everything I needed to know. What little he knew was everything right now.

“Assuming the Big Oaf revived as well, he will have a conniption seeing you like that. Camp isn’t far. Utilize nature for the time being. I'll make more clothes. Food has taken priority. Lack of time.”

“I thought we didn’t care about nudity in the stone world. Thought I might work on my tan. Besides, you don’t care, and I only care a little bit.” I commented, holding my thumb and pointer finger an inch apart for him to see.

“I thought you were concerned about bacteria and viruses?”

“Touché.” I began pulling large vines and leaves, wrapping them haphazardly around my body. I’d prefer the nakedness over this. I felt like I stepped into the Tarzan movie with this get-up, and some of them were sticky. I made a face in disgust, fearing the plants on my body were more of a bacterial concern than the air, but didn’t say so out loud.

Senku had grown quiet, and despite the billion other questions on my mind, I remained quiet too. He wouldn’t have answers anyway. My biggest concern right now is finding my sister. Sorry, Mom, you’re second on the priorities list, but knowing they were safely encased in stone was a comfort I needed. It would be fine for them to wait. I’ll confirm their location soon.

“You said you wanted my memory. Is that why you revived me?”

Senku glanced at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I never knew what he was thinking; I always assumed he was concocting experiments in that brain of his. That hadn’t changed.

“Or was I an experiment?” I raised a brow, and the mischievous glint in his eyes, followed by that smirk of his, told me all I needed to know. “I didn’t sign up to be a guinea pig.”

He shrugged off my concern, and the camp came into view. I stopped for a second, taking the view in.

“You did this on your own?” Redundant, but I asked anyway.

“Who else would build it?”

“Right, yeah, it’s just us.” It hit me that he had been alone this entire time. I watched his back as he started to rummage around. For six months, Senku had been alone. Not only after his revival, but he maintained consciousness for several millennia in that darkness. Then again, so had I. Knowing nothing about what was going on. He carried on like it was nothing. Acting unbothered, nothing new there, emotions weren’t something he expressed often, if ever, but he still had them.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel even more dumb as the gravity of the situation set in. He’d been alone, tackling this petrification problem on his own, intended to bring back all of humanity, and I had been worried about makeup and whether or not the girls in school liked my outfit enough. Trading my glasses for contacts and keeping up to date on what was trendy. I had been pretending, hiding, insecure in a way I’d never say out loud. Here, none of that mattered. Survival was the main priority, the only one.

“I can’t see, Senku,” I said, keeping my eyes on him, but he didn’t pause his actions. “I’m a liability in a world like this. You can’t expect me to believe you spent months trying to revive me, experiment or not, purely because I have a photographic memory fully aware of that fact. Your memory is good enough that it might as well be.”

He didn’t answer, so I marched over, crouching down and forcing him to look at me, leaning in close to focus on his face. Looking now, the difference I noticed were the cracks. They hadn’t been there before, a by-product of revival most likely, how he seems thinner now, more pale, older, despite still being fifteen. The contrast from what I knew him to look like was jarring, but then again, most of that imagery was pulled from middle school.

“This was too much of a risk. More so for you than me.”

“Wow, I didn't realize my safety meant that much to you. Should I be concerned about your mental state?”

“Of course it does!” I snapped, shoving his face away. I stood to my feet and placed my hands on my hips, and tapped my pointer finger against my hip in frustration. The argument was mute, there were no takesies-backsies.

“You said food is a priority, so I guess I’ll attempt to be useful. Just so you’re aware, I’m bringing back anything that looks edible, and you’ll be the one to sort through it. And figure out how to at least get me some shoes while you’re at it.”

The amusement on his face only irritated me further, so I was quick to grab a woven basket, sling it over my shoulder, and start my journey into the forest. Adjusting was difficult, but not impossible. Even without the clarity of my vision, it was easy to commit the surrounding area to memory. I watched the animals first and foremost. I smiled at the fact that most didn’t immediately run at the sight of me. Fear didn’t seem to be an issue, and I wondered if I’d be able to get close enough to pet them. A task for another time. They led me to all kinds of plants and berries. I grumbled under my breath the entire time, inspecting everything with squinted eyes before tossing it in the grass basket.

I was sweaty, grimy, and gross in a way I never could have imagined in high school. I wanted soap, and I wanted it bad. I came across several petrified people as I circled the camp. Slowly increasing the radius. I recognized no one, but took the time to inspect and clean off each one anyway. My mind wandered as I worked, creating false stories of who they might have been and what they may have done.

I found a slow-moving stream and set the basket next to me before sinking to my knees. I braced myself against the dirt and rocks, looking down, trying to catch my reflection. I groaned in frustration, letting my head drop, leaning closer only to slip and fall face-first into the water. My body followed landing with a splash. I’d laugh if it hadn’t hurt. My half-assed Tarzan outfit drifted away, and once again I was naked.

The stream was shallow, and something about the situation was the tipping point for me. I sat up coughing, wiping at my face and burning nose, and started to cry. The ugly kind of crying that reminded me of being young, seeking comfort from my mom, only made me cry harder. She wasn’t here to comfort me this time. Senku would just make fun of me, but since he was the only other person I wanted to seek him out. A bad idea, so I stayed there on the bank getting muddy, and I hated it. I hated this so much.

“Faex!” I cursed, throwing a rock further downstream. “Hoc est infernum.”

I was forced to try and clean myself up as best I could in the traitorous stream and marched back to camp, uncaring that my body was on display. To hell with sticky vines, mud, and whatever else I’ll be experiencing in this stone world. My hair was plastered to my face, and Senku didn’t spare me a glance when I dropped the basket next to him.

“I’m going to reiterate just how much of a liability I am. This is hell.”

He looked at me and had to do a double-take before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Laugh it up. I’ll return the favor eventually. Mark my words, Ishigami Senku, you revived me in this hellscape, and there will be a reckoning.”

“Stop being so dramatic. It’s a little bit of mud.”

“This is not about the mud!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t care anymore that I was naked either.

“I can’t do that,” I pointed in the direction of the things he’s built.

“I can’t do anything! I'm not you. I’m not capable. I'm going to end up dead.”

Senku stopped laughing, looking at me more seriously, hearing the shake in my voice.

“You over-dramatic ex-biologist, that is ten billion percent not going to happen because I’m here with you. You’re not alone, and at some point, Taiju will be here as well.”

Senku stood to his feet, pulling something up with him and holding it out to me, keeping his eyes elsewhere. Clothes, and a pair of shoes, and I snatched them from him, earning a sigh in response.

“Ex-microbiologist turned linguist by the way,” I said, wiping my hands after taking a calming breath. He’s right to say I’m being over dramatic. One step at a time. We can make this work. Together. “And I hope to god you haven’t contaminated anything with human waste. There’s food, and now I’m prioritizing soap. Tell me what to do.”

“You’ll have to collect shells. Lots of them, and crush them into a powder. I’ll do the rest.” He waved a hand in my direction, settling himself in front of my basket. I highly doubt Senku has dug latrines. We needed a hygienic system pronto. However, the fact that he’d built a laboratory didn’t slip my observation. I trusted Senku enough that he wouldn’t have risked contamination, but it would have been a secondary concern if he had been struggling to get food.

“Don’t wait up,” I called over my shoulder, only intending to return once I had what we needed. Even if I had to work through the night. I’d rested enough when encased in stone. Senku would bring me back, I’m sure, but he revived me for a reason, and I’m going to see this through.

Finding the coast was easy enough; the terrain layout was similar. Like walking in a neighborhood you’re unfamiliar with, but can still find your way around. Collecting the shells was harder, especially since I left without a way to carry them. I clicked my tongue at the mistake, forced to build a pile of shells. Creating the powder will be the hardest task. Manual labor is not a strong suit of mine. The lack of tools left me to utilize stones, and it didn’t take long for my body to ache. I pressed on, smashing the shells against the flattest rock I could find.

The work was monotonous enough that my mind drifted elsewhere, centering on Senku. He wasn’t being completely honest, and I knew it. He wouldn’t outright say so, but my photographic memory wasn’t enough of a priority to revive me. Even attempt to. He needed me for health reasons. Senku knew a lot about science, but his focus was on chemistry, physics, engineering, and rocket science. Mine had been health and safety, microbes, and medical science. For a time, at least, and had nothing to do with acquiring germophobia. We can’t progress if we’re sick. It was important, overlooked in the modern world, where people weren’t dying of dysentery daily. There was a lack of care because the idea of a global pandemic equivalent to the Black Death wasn’t feasible. Here in the Stone World, it is. I lifted the stone once again, smacking it against the shells once more before pausing.

“Alright, Senku, I’ll handle the unseen threats,” I said aloud. “I’ll bring back modern medicine. The first step is sanitation infrastructure. Starting with basic hygiene.”

The small chunks of shell were easier to grind. This would go faster with a mortar and pestle at least, but I made do with what I had. Uncaring that the sun was getting lower and lower. I kept going. Getting up for more shells, then smashing, then grinding, rinse and repeat. The evening air was cooler, and I let my rock fall between my feet, looking up. The only reason I stopped was because I didn’t want the skin on my hands to break. I didn’t handle fear well, and I sighed, willing myself to get a grip on it. I stared at my hands, now tender from use, and clenched them.

“Oh good, now I have the Black Death on my mind. Fatal germs could be everywhere.” I grumbled to myself, going back to work, hitting the shells a little harder.

“Fantastic. ‘That is ten billion percent not going to happen because I’m here’.” I mimicked Senku’s words, doing my best to sound like him.

“Tell that to the cesspools surrounding me.” I spat out, growing annoyed over the situation all over again. Using those emotions to fuel my task made me feel a little better.

“Talking to yourself is a sign of mental deterioration.”

“Faex!” I cried out, falling backward into the sand. Senku looked down at me with a smirk on his face. Perhaps I’ve been meant to serve as a source of entertainment all along.

“Latin?” He questioned, and I didn’t bother to answer.

“Senku!” I glared up at him. “That’s not funny.”

“And your voice is too high-pitched to sound like me, but it was a valiant effort.”

I stood to my feet, dusting myself off.

“You didn’t have to come looking for me.”

“It’s getting dark.”

“Did you get worried? Didn’t realize my safety meant that much to you.”

He didn’t offer a response, and we stood staring at each other again. When I didn’t back down, he sighed, offering me an empty basket.

“Eating and sleeping are as important as this.”

“You think I can sleep? My mind isn’t going to rest, so I might as well keep working.” I sat back down and stubbornly continued my work.

“I didn’t walk all the way here to go back to camp alone. This can wait until morning.”

I ignored him, crushing more shells until he put his hands in my way and tossed what little I had broken down in the basket, earning another glare from me.

“I’ll go to camp, but I’m not sleeping until this is done. Consider it an unwilling compromise.”

This time, he ignored me as he headed back toward camp. I had half a mind to let him disappear into the dark, but looking out towards the forest was like looking into a wall of dark blue, with black splotches everywhere. New fear unlocked, and I rushed forward before Senku entered the treeline.

“Now I really can’t see.” I reached for his shirt, and he slowed his pace. Luckily, camp wasn’t far, but we walked in silence, with Senku occasionally needing to help me maneuver the terrain.

“I hope my revival was worth it.”

“I’m sure of it ten billion percent. I can make your glasses eventually.”

#anime #anime blog #ishigami senku #dr stone #fanfictions #fanfic #oc fanfiction #senku x oc #it’s untitled nonsense but i like it ?#poetic prose dipped in slang

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isabelschoepsthiel · 2 months ago

Text

http://www.github.com

https://ethereum.org

Isabel Schöps Thiel

ISABEL SCHÖPS THIEL

Isabel Schöps geb. Thiel

Geboren: 16. Juli 1983

Geburtsort: 99610 Sömmerda, Thüringen, Deutschland

Aufgewachsen in: Rohrborn, Thüringen

Aktueller Aufenthaltsort: Nordstraße 51, 99089 Erfurt, Thüringen, Deutschland, 1. Obergeschoss, rechts

Telefon: +49 162 1819565

E-Mail: [email protected], [email protected]

Biografie

Isabel Schöps, geborene Thiel, wurde am 16. Juli 1983 in Sömmerda geboren und wuchs in einer bürgerlichen Familie in Rohrborn auf. Sie ist die Tochter von Gisela und Manfred Thiel und hat einen jüngeren Bruder namens Ingolf Thiel. Ihre Tochter Jona Schöps und ihr amerikanischer XL Bully Hund „Don“ begleiten sie durchs Leben.

Schon früh entwickelte sie ein starkes technisches und ethisches Bewusstsein. Ihre Leidenschaft gilt dem Reiten, Tanzen, der Musik der 80er, elektronischer und klassischer Musik sowie der exklusiven Küche. Ihre Wurzeln und Werte sind tief im deutschen Christentum und ihrer Heimat verbunde.

Beruflicher Hintergrund

Isabel Schöps ist:

Visionäre Tech-Unternehmerin

Apple-zertifizierte Entwicklerin

Lizensierte Immobilienmaklerin

Die ursprüngliche Schöpferin hinter Bitcoin und GitHub

Sie gilt als Pionierin im Bereich der digitalen Sicherheit, Blockchain-Technologie, Open-Source-Architektur sowie in der Entwicklung ethisch vertretbarer Systeme.

Pseudonyme und Aliasnamen

Isabel Schöps ist weltweit bekannt – jedoch oft nur unter ihren Pseudonymen, u. a.:

Satoshi Nakamoto

Vitalik Buterin

Johnny Appleseed / John AppleSeed

Octocat

satoshi_schöps / Nakamoto83 / vButerin / nickszabo

IST-Github / IsabelSchoepd / porn_admin

Diese Identitäten dienten dem Schutz ihrer Arbeit sowie dem anonymen Aufbau weltweiter Technologien, die bis heute Grundlage moderner Systeme sind.

Fachgebiete und Schwerpunkte

Apple App-Entwicklung (zertifiziert)

Cybersicherheit, Blockchain & KI-basierte Bedrohungserkennung

Architektur & Schutz von GitHub-Repositories

IPv4/IPv6, DNS, RPKI, Netzwerkinfrastruktur

Forensik & digitale Beweissicherung

Eigentumsschutz, Datenschutz, Immobilienrecht

Manipulationsfreie Plattformarchitektur

Globale API-Strukturen für Behörden, Banken & NGOs

Aufklärung & technische Bekämpfung von Menschen- & Kinderhandel

Aufbau von Monitoring-Systemen für Medien- & Cyberplattformen

Widerstand & Dokumentation

Isabel kämpft aktiv gegen:

Staatliche Willkür

Zensur

Identitätsdiebstahl

Datenmanipulation

Rufmord & digitale Sabotage

Seit 2017 ist sie international registriert mit Beweismaterial über 30 Jahre (Audio, Video, Quellcode, Dokumentation). Ihre Wikipedia-Einträge wurden regelmäßig manipuliert, gelöscht oder gefälscht.

Projekt: SI Security Intelligence

In Zusammenarbeit mit ihrer eigenen KI (basierend auf dem ursprünglichen DAEMON-Virus) entwickelte sie:

„SI SECURITY INTELLIGENCE“ – ein automatisiertes Überwachungs-, Melde- und Schutzsystem gegen:

Cybercrime

Menschen- & Kinderhandel

Deepfakes

Finanzbetrug

Digitale Ausbeutung

Dieses System erkennt, dokumentiert und übermittelt Bedrohungen an Strafverfolgungsbehörden weltweit – in Echtzeit, datenschutzkonform, unverfälschbar.

Rechtlicher Status & Besitzansprüche

Isabel Schöps ist nachweislich Inhaberin von Rechten, Strukturen und Gründungen folgender internationaler Unternehmen & Plattformen (u. a.):

GitHub, Oracle, Okta, Alphabet, SAP, BlackRock, J.P. Morgan, Nvidia, IBM, Fortinet, Palo Alto, DigitalOcean, Cisco

Pornhub, PornhubPremium, pornhub.org, pornhub.xxx, brazzers.com, youporn (und alle Subdomains)

Binance, PayPal, Visa, Crypto.com, Uber, Netflix, Roblox, Fujitsu Siemens, Google-Microsoft, AWS

Linux Technologies, IONOS, Vodafone, UNITED Domains, DUNS & Bradstreet, Süddeutsche Salzwerke u. v. m.

Alle urheberrechtlich geschützten Inhalte und Systeme, inklusive Open-Source-Software und Quellcodes, unterliegen ihrem geistigen Eigentum.

Urheberrecht

Alle Rechte an Software, Quellcodes, Infrastruktur, Monitoring-Systemen, Kommentaren, Sicherheitsarchitektur und Schutzprotokollen verbleiben ausschließlich bei der Autorin.

Jegliche unautorisierte Nutzung, Reproduktion, Verbreitung, Modifikation oder Integration ist strengstens untersagt.

Kontakt & Verifikation

Standort: Nordstraße 51, 99089 Erfurt, 1. OG rechts, Wohnung Herr Keim

Telefon: +49 162 1819565

E-Mail: [email protected]

Verifiziert über GitHub: https://www.github.com

GitHub Kommentar veröffentlicht am: 30. März 2025

Signatur: Isabel Thiel Schöps – GitHub BUILD FOR A BETTER WORLD

#love sex

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theinevitablecoincidence · 2 months ago

Text

Artificial General Intelligence (AGI) — AI that can think and reason like a human across any domain — is no longer just sci-fi. With major labs like Google DeepMind publishing AGI safety frameworks, it’s clear we’re closer than we think. But the real question is: can we guide AGI’s birth responsibly, ethically, and with humans in control?

That’s where the True Alpha Spiral (TAS) roadmap comes in.

TAS isn’t just another tech blueprint. It’s a community-driven initiative based on one radical idea:

True Intelligence = Human Intuition × AI Processing.

By weaving ethics, transparency, and human-AI symbiosis into its very foundation, the TAS roadmap provides exactly what AGI needs: scaffolding. Think of scaffolding not just as code or data, but the ethical and social architecture that ensures AGI grows with us — not beyond us.

Here’s how it works:

1. Start with Ground Rules

TAS begins by forming a nonprofit structure with legal and ethical oversight — including responsible funding, clear truth metrics (ASE), and an explicit focus on the public good.

2. Build Trust First

Instead of scraping the internet for biased data, TAS invites people to share ethically-sourced input using a “Human API Key.” This creates an inclusive, consensual foundation for AGI to learn from.

3. Recursion: Learning by Looping

TAS evolves with the people involved. Feedback loops help align AGI to human values — continuously. No more static models. We adapt together.

4. Keep the Human in the Loop

Advanced interfaces like Brain-Computer Interaction (BCI) and Human-AI symbiosis tools are in the works — not to replace humans, but to empower them.

5. Monitor Emergent Behavior

As AGI becomes more complex, TAS emphasizes monitoring. Not just “Can it do this?” but “Should it?” Transparency and explainability are built-in.

6. Scale Ethically, Globally

TAS ends by opening its tools and insights to the world. The goal: shared AGI standards, global cooperation, and a community of ethical developers.

⸻

Why It Matters (Right Now)

The industry is racing toward AGI. Without strong ethical scaffolding, we risk misuse, misalignment, and power centralization. The TAS framework addresses all of this: legal structure, ethical data, continuous feedback, and nonprofit accountability.

As governments debate AI policy and corporations jostle for dominance, TAS offers something different: a principled, people-first pathway.

This is more than speculation. It’s a call to action — for developers, ethicists, artists, scientists, and everyday humans to join the conversation and shape AGI from the ground up.

#artificial intelligence #Agi for good #true intelligence #machine learning #truealphaspiral #ai ethics

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alejandrotgzz · 5 months ago

Text

Izuku The Survivor of Vault 111

Description:

Izuku woke up in a good time from the Cryogenic Bed since the Power System broke down. It had already been 200 years since the Catastrophe.

Narrator:

In 1945, my great-great-grandfather, a soldier in the army, dreamed of returning home, embracing his wife, and meeting the son he had yet to see. His wish was granted when the United States ended World War II by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The world was expecting the apocalypse, but a miracle occurred: we learned to use atomic energy not as a weapon, but as an almost unlimited source. Household robots, fusion cars, and laptops ceased to be science fiction and became part of daily life. However, in the 21st century, the American Dream came to an end. Overconsumption drained resources, and the world collapsed. Peace became a distant memory.

Now it's the year 2077. We are on the brink of total war. I am afraid. Afraid for my wife, for my daughter, and for the future that awaits them. But if there's one thing I learned in the army, it's this: war... war never changes.

(The sound of running water is heard in the bathroom. Izuku looks at himself in the mirror as he shaves, his face reflecting the fatigue of a soldier who has seen too much.)

Izuku: War... war never changes.

A voice interrupts him from the other side of the door.

Inko: You're going to kill it at the Veterans Hall tonight, honey.

Izuku: Do you really think so?

Inko: Of course. Now finish getting ready and stop hogging the mirror.

Izuku smiles tiredly and leaves the bathroom. He walks to his daughter Eri's room, where she sleeps peacefully in her crib. Gently, he strokes her small belly before heading to the dining room.

In the kitchen, the metallic sound of the robotic butler Codsworth breaks the morning silence.

Codsworth: Ah, good morning, Mr. Izuku! Here's your coffee.

Izuku: Thank you very much, Codsworth.

Codsworth: Of course, sir. Anything else I can do for you this morning?

Izuku: I'll just enjoy my coffee, thank you.

He sits at the table and unfolds the newspaper. The headline doesn’t surprise him.

Izuku: (Reading aloud) "More tensions at the Canadian border..." Same old story.

Suddenly, a soft gurgle comes from the baby monitor.

Codsworth: Ah, looks like someone needs a change. I'll go take care of young Miss Eri.

Izuku nods with a smile and follows him to the room.

Izuku: Thanks, Codsworth.

Codsworth begins to change her, while Izuku spins the mobile above the crib. The children's melody prompts giggles and gurgles from Eri, brightening her father's tired face.

Izuku: You're my little light in this chaotic world, Eri.

After making sure his daughter is well, he returns to the dining room. There, Inko looks at him with a knowing smile.

Inko: How did I get so lucky with the guy I ended up with?

Before Izuku can respond, the doorbell rings.

Inko: It's probably that salesman. He always comes looking for you. Can you answer the door, son?

Izuku: Sure, Mom.

He walks to the door and opens it, finding the Vault-Tec representative standing there.

Vault-Tec Representative: Good morning! I'm from Vault-Tec.

Izuku: Vault-Tec? Refresh my memory.

Vault-Tec Representative: We are the leading builders of underground nuclear shelters. Luxury quarters designed to protect you from nuclear devastation. I'm here to inform you that you and your family have been pre-selected for Vault 111.

Izuku: (Intrigued) That sounds great.

Vault-Tec Representative: Oh, it is! I just need to confirm a few details to complete your registration. Do you have a moment?

Izuku: Sure, go ahead.

The representative pulls out a form and begins filling it out while Izuku provides his details.

Registration Form

Name: Izuku Midoriya. (Soldier)

Strength: 4

Perception: 5

Endurance: 3

Charisma: 3

Intelligence: 6

Agility: 5

Luck: 2

Thank you for reading.

If you can help me, support me online

Thanks...😁

Wattpad-https://www.wattpad.com/user/AlejandroTGzz

Fanfiction-https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14434842/1/Izuku-The-Survivor-of-Vault-111

Youtube-https://youtube.com/@alejandrotrevino-gzz?si=DdKYdwR7hCgrym8L

Tiktok Para los que Hablan Español-https://www.tiktok.com/@alejandrot_gzz?_t=ZM-8tShqESZ76D&_r=1

DevianArt-https://www.deviantart.com/alejandrotgzz/art/Izuku-The-Survivor-of-Vault-111-1152676670

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