#test takers for hire

[essaywritinghelp]

[onlinetaker]

How to Find the Reliable Online Test Takers for Your Exams?

Online tests are more and more common in today's world of distance study and remote employment. The ability to take online tests successfully may not be possessed by everyone due to a lack of time, resources, or knowledge. Online test takers, which are people or businesses that provide their services to take exams online on someone else's behalf, step in at this point. The following advice may help you select a dependable online test taker.

Research Different Test Takers: Researching and evaluating the best online test takers comes first. Look for businesses or people who have experience with the kind of exam you need to take, and read reviews and ratings from previous customers.

Check Credentials: Make sure a test taker has the credentials and training required to pass your exam before hiring them. They must be knowledgeable about the topic content and be comfortable with the exam structure.

Discuss Exam Details: Once you've chosen the potential exam taker, go through the exam specifics with them. Make sure they are familiar with the exam format and give them any information they require, such as the dates and times of the exams.

Set Clear Expectations: It's crucial to communicate your test taker's expectations. Talk to them about the standard of work you anticipate from them, the deadline for finishing the exam, and the cost of their services.

Review Terms and Conditions: Review the terms and conditions in detail before hiring an online test taker. Make sure you are aware of their confidentiality, refund, and revision policies.

Stay in Communication: It's crucial to be in touch with your test taker at all times during the exam. Make sure they have access to the exam and all essential materials, and check in with them sometimes to make sure nothing is amiss.

It's crucial to keep in mind that, despite the convenience of test takers for hire, maintaining academic honesty and the integrity of the examination are paramount.

[passpsychometriconline]

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[testhelper1]

Hire the professional GMAT test experts to pass your exam.

If you wish for someone to take the GMAT for you, then you need to find an expert who is ready to do something for you.Moreover, it helps if you score high in each of the sections. Several times, it turns out that one is good at quantitative but not superior in other sections or good at analytical queries but not good at quantitative, so balancing the scoring and scores highly turns out to be a great challenge. Go for the GMAT test takers for hire to find the best results.

Read More: https://www.hashtap.com/@test.helper/hire-the-professional-gmat-test-experts-to-pass-your-exam-d3gezROGkJM0

[onlineexamhelpers-tutor]

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

[donnerpartyofone]

I feel like there's an epidemic of businesses trying to make customers and applicants do free data entry for them and it's driving me crazy.

I have complained many times about how seeing a doctor now involves checking in online, and then entering duplicate information into something else when you check in physically, and then answering duplicate questions once you're actually inside the exam room. Sometimes somebody addresses this in a humane way: "Sorry, we're using a new CMS and we have to do all this stuff from scratch," or "Sorry, we have to use these three different systems and they don't communicate with each other." Last time I went I did all this like research into my past appointments because I never ever remember off the cuff exactly what day I had this or that procedure, and I had every impression that the clinic was dependent on me to have all my medical records memorized...so I got in there and started rattling off information, and the nurse asked "When was your last mammogram?", and I gave her the date, and she looked at her monitor and said, "...yup, there it is!" Like WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, IF IT WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU WHY ARE YOU QUIZZING ME ABOUT THIS, WHY IS THIS A TEST???

I actually asked about redundant check-in procedures on Quora of all places, figuring there had to be a few cantankerous cranks on there who could at least try to explain this to me, but there were absolutely no takers at all. As far as I can see, literally no one knows why this is happening, it's just The Way It Is.

But anyway. Now I'm having this experience with job applications where they request that you upload files for your resume and cover letter in specific formats...and then they direct you to this interface where you are made to transcribe every detail from the resume you just provided by hand, one field at a time. I've been confronted with this insanity when applying for jobs whose wages weren't even worth the mind-numbing exercise of the application process. And actually this is part of my point: Data entry is a JOB. I have had this job. I was paid to examine, reformat, and transcribe data, and upload it to a database for my company to search and cross-reference in the future. If you are an employer and you absolutely require BOTH a pdf of my resume and cover letter that a human being can read and evaluate, AND each piece of data from those documents individually entered into your database for some other form of storage and review, then it is seriously fucking Up to You to pay some wage slave to enter the data. I'm looking for a job. I'm not going to do a job for you for fucking free, in order to become eligible for a job that you might consider paying me for later. Like please don't call me a fucking idiot to my face--or at least, if it's the database part that's the most important thing to you, do not also require me to create a nicely-formatted document containing my history and intentions. Let's just get right to the forced data entry part, let's start this awful relationship from a place of honesty at the very fucking least.

N.B. I realize that there are multiple reasons an employer would do this to a person, ranging from algorithmic candidate-sorting to just having outdated-ass job site shit in place that they don't feel like reviewing or revising. I don't really care why it's happening, I just hate that it is. Recently I tried to apply for some $15/hr part-time job at a local museum that a caveman could do, and I stopped cold when I realized I had to transcribe every detail of the documents I just gave them into this bullshit backend website that looked like it was about a thousand years old. No Thank You. Currently I'm all worked up because I just applied to work at a hip, culty, local theater, and I was shocked that after completing the totally normal application routine, I received an automated email directing me to "complete your profile" as "an important part of the hiring process" on the website of the company they're outsourcing all their HR and billing stuff to. And I go look at the profile thingy, and of course it's just this needlessly complicated interface where I can individually enter each and every piece of information that I just provided in my resume--no more, no less. The theater has exactly two locations and is kind of a niche operation and it is absolutely crazy to me that they think they need to pay for this extra layer of stupidly bloated and redundant "talent acquisition" processing when they're hiring for like two or three basic ass hourly roles where half the question is going to be "have you done this normal shit before" and half will be "can we stand your personality". Nobody needs this garbage at all, least of all ME.

[judgementdaysunshine]

"Bumblebee, gotta ask you a favor" you laugh at Bradshaw for the nickname he's called you for the past few weeks. He told you that he needed a partner for a tag team match which you responded with, "Let's go kick ass" Edge and the rest of your friends stand backstage while the two of you steam railed through Stevie and Jacqueline over the next hour before waiting for the match between you and Tori as every emotion you bottled up slowly oozed out when your hands are intertwined by Test and edge along with encouraging words that were repeated by the boys during the match, Teri runs out and punches you in the face after tori holds you against the ropes while the ref dealt with test. But you laugh when Chyna yanks her off the apron as you lift tori over your shoulder, "Oh wait a minute, a pump handle slam!" edge and test were still a mess from the last time they were ringside during your match but now both were in awe of your will and strength, you slide out between the two as the crowd chants at you "Gladiator Y/N" the boys lift you on their shoulders which makes you giddy while heading backstage hearing edge say, "They love you gladiator" you laugh as the boys down next to your locker room when all of you notice a letter on your locker room door with the words "Always watching" right before a loud bang sounds from your locker room. Joey Abs shoves the door open with a chair before yelling, "Bitch!"you spear him into the wall and lose your mind once you get ahold of the chair and yell loudly "What the fuck is your problem!" it took edge, test, and chyna to pull you back as Rodney yelled out "We don't have a problem, it's just what the boss said!" they tell you they were told to harass you until you either left for good or switched companies which made you finally snap "I am gonna kill all three of you" you jerk free and immediately kick joey in the face leading to a chase with rodney where you find Pete along the way and get hits on him too. The assault only stopped when Stone Cold pulled rodney off you and the Undertaker put you over his shoulder as you yell while everyone else witnesses the chaos, "WHO THE FUCK HIRED YOU!" you try to wiggle free from taker's grasp while stone cold didn't waste time with stunners "Who fucking hired you answer it!" bradshaw and farooq make quick work before you finish them and leave the arena, all of you have a few drinks before an envelope is slid in front of you with evidence of who hired the posse "He knows not to fuck with her again" all of you stand in your hotel room as the cassette plays, hearing Vince talk to DX, old corporation members, and Val who each refuse to harm you as bradshaw bursts in and holds him against the wall. "If something happens to her and it's because of you, I'll fucking kill you myself" Steph and Linda each yell at him while bradshaw left with the envelope, "She's terrified of everything because of you! She's thought of getting a gun because of this shit!" a slap sounds and linda speaks after steph, "All because she's a young woman in this business!" once the tape is finished, you hug bradshaw tightly with tears pouring down your face as everyone hears your strained voice, "I can never thank you enough" test rubs your arms while edge wipes your face in between hugs while hearing bradshaw's soothing voice say, "You're family" you feel safe and life flows back in you for the first time in months.

[mitigatedchaos]

A lot of the lefty people in the universities assume that they can be as partisan as they want, and the university won't go under, because Republicans don't have a choice. University degrees mark selection for talent, and they can't drop the talent-selection system and replace it with nothing.

Republicans have already been splitting K-12 schooling using the idea of charter schools - privately-operated schools that receive public money through vouchers.

What's different between universities and the K-12 system? Well, mostly research. If the research is increasingly partisan, however, then the two systems become more similar, and Republicans could begin partitioning out the different functions of the universities as part of a reform movement after the shift from truth-oriented organization to politics-oriented organization.

The long-term goal would be to move the credential-minting portion of the university's portfolio - its main source of cash and influence - from universities to a third-party in-person exam service. New university degrees would then be legally deprecated, and employers would be prohibited from accepting or knowing about them in hiring and promotion.

The intermediate, "one foot in the water" approach would be to require that all accredited degree-granting universities provide a by-exam award of each degree they grant, and they can't differentiate between traditional students and exam-only students in the awarding process - or mark it on the credentials in any way. (Naturally, this rule would also require that all of the involved texts are published openly, and there is no factual information involved which is not in the texts.)

What is the value of learning on Harvard's campus, from Harvard's professors, as compared to someone with a similar level of aptitude learning from a small school in Iowa?

Who can sit to take the exam? That depends on just how brutal the people who implement this policy want to be. If you're feeling merciful, you can allow Harvard to limit the number of by-exam seats to match the number of seats they have on campus, and impose conditions similar to the ones they use for admissions on the exam takers. This would still allow Harvard to keep most of their revenue, especially since a Harvard student would likely be guaranteed a seat.

If you're feeling harsher, you can allow Harvard to set the fee necessary to administrate the test, but 1) all in-person Harvard students must also pay the fee, and if they can't pay it, they can't take the test, and 2) the fee is limited to 1/10th of tuition, adjusted downwards for financial aid received by Harvard students.

I'm not going to go in to further details. There are also a number of potential problems, which I'm not going to go into, either.

The reason that the Republicans haven't unbundled the universities isn't because it's impossible. It's because they don't want to. They still think the universities can be salvaged, and that it makes sense to pool researchers with learners. They have lighter-touch tactics available before resorting to this, as well.

[oncamelliastreet]

ignore, i just have nowhere to put this rant and no one to tell it to and need to get it into space while i have a quick mental breakdown

i’m just so fucking stressed about precalc and i’m fucking fed up and i don’t know what to do. like i actually don’t think i can pass this class. precalc is like a combination of algebra and geometry, so it would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that my school had shit algebra and geometry classes that barely taught anyone anything. we don’t know the basics going into the class, and we were all hoping to get the old precalc teacher who is actually a really good teacher and could’ve helped us, but he stopped teaching it for some reason this year and hired a new guy who doesn’t understand that we really don’t know anything. like most of my grade failed this test, and he gave us a lecture on it and said that we cleary didn’t study enough and it’s unacceptable that we don’t know it because it’s prettt much review, but WE DIDN’T LEARN IT BEFORE HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW NOW. and i did all of the homework, i asked my sister for help every night and had her explain it to me, i studied for two hours the day before the test, and i still got a 50% (BAD). and my stupid fucking sister keeps texting me and asking me about when i’ll need help and what i don’t get and I DON’T EVEN KNOW. BECAUSE MY TEACHER DIDN’T EVEN GIVE THE TESTS BACK OR PUT THEM IN THE GRADEBOOK HE JUST SHOWER PEOPLE THEIR SCORES. and i don’t even think he’s gonna give them back, so i don’t know if i actually didn’t know anything or if the questions i didn’t get to because im a slow ass test taker came back to bite me in the ass and it lost a lot of points because he grades by partial credit and he can’t give partial credit to questions i didn’t even get to in time. the whole thing is just fucking fucked and i don’t know how to pass the class and there’s really no alternatives because i have to have four years of math and you can’t really go into stats without precalc and you can’t go into college algebra because college algebra is just algebra 2 and i took algebra 2 freshman year and i can’t take the same class twice. i’m just completely fucking fucked and my grades about to dip so bad and i’m not gonna be able to get it back up and i’m not even comfortable talking to my teacher about it because he’s such a fucking weirdo and he explains everything so fast which doesn’t work for me because i’m an extremely visual learner when it comes to math and i have to have things explained to me slowly and written down first or it takes me forever to get it and i never get his answers when other people ask questions in class because he gets super condescending and explains it to you like you’re a stupid person who should already know it except i am a stupid person who should probably know it but i never had it taught to me in the first place so i don’t know how the fuck i’m gonna start knowing it now and i’m just stressed as FUCK and i’m gonna tell my therapist about this tomorrow and she’s just gonna say “well have you tried asking for help” yes i fucking have it didn’t WORK i just don’t get it ill ask my sister for help and she looks at me like im a lost cause every time i dont know something and says that i should already know it and tells me to watch a video about it and it doesn’t FUCKING HELP and everyone is so FUCKING CONDESCENDINF BEVAUSE I KUSY DONT UNDERSTAND MATH AND IM CRTINF SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW

[contentment-of-cats]

We now return to your regularly scheduled chaos of daily living.

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, it was as if my world stopped turning. I was terrified. Reading the diagnosis in my release paperwork from Asshat General, it felt like I was in freefall, looking at the ground rushing up at me, helpless. I went through the preparations for radiation and chemo in a daze, but over time the terror transmuted into... well... Tuesday. You get used to it, you live with it, going from one day at a time to what day is it? Your mind bends to accommodate.

Our consciousness is already bending to accommodate the loss of five lives out of thousands lost last week. The nature of their existence set them apart from the drowned of the Mediterranean and the dead in wars declared and undeclared. Your mind bends to accommodate. I asked my aunts and my gran years ago what it was like to live during WW2, and they replied that you just got up and got on with it. You comforted the friends who lost their sons and daughters, you hoped your family who stayed in Europe were all right, then you did the dishes and got the kids to school.

Our collective consciousness is bending, much of that bending accomplished by the media in its ever lasting mission to feed us adulation of the plutocrats and oligarchy as a goose is fed for foie gras. A friend of Nargolet said,

Cut for rage-inducing bullshit.

“And I’m tired of people coming in now to insult the high achievers and disparage wealthy people that want to break trail for the rest of humanity. “These are risk takers, risk takers have always driven humanity forward and taking risk is what distinguishes us as men, and it’s the divine spark."

The divine spark is apparently for wealthy male risk takers, heroically blazing the way. At least Jeff Bezos had the balls to go up in his own rocket, and Rush was piloting his own unclassed, insufficiently tested, experimental jack-job of a vessel. However, the difference between Bezos and Rush is a gulf of knowing what you do not know. Bezos hired experts, did not cut corners, and kept his ego out of it so that people could do their jobs. Rush openly spoke of hiring 25 year-olds because people with decades of experience under their belts were 'not aspirational' enough.

In truth, the only reason a company hires young, inexperienced people - however brilliant - is because they are going to pull some straight up bullshit and young folks are too intimidated to speak up. I am happier than I can tell you that Millennials and first cohort Gen Z are calling that shit out. I love you, babies. You are the revolution.

Nargeolet and Harding were both experienced adventurers. Of the two, Nargeolet had the experience that should have spotted any red flags with the sub. Were they inured to danger, as many adventurers become? Did they believe that after decades of not being shot that they were bulletproof? Did OceanGate use men like this as window dressing to give the impression of safety - or that safety is to be had two miles down in the dark and cold at 6K+ psi? In my opinion, the answer is yes. We become blase about danger - when we learn to drive, we're terrified as we pilot a ton of metal, plastic, and fiberglass in a parade of unknowable lunatics. Five years later, we hop in the car and go to the store thinking about nothing more than the price of gas or hamburger. I believe that Harding and Nareolet expected to come up Sunday evening, have a few beers and think about a TED talk.

I'm sorry that they didn't.

I'm sorry that Suleman Dawood, while being terrified, did not want to disappoint his dad. He might have looked at his father and these impressive men and his own thrill-seeker father and put aside his misgivings, assured that these adults of many years experience would not put him in danger. He might have been calmed by the fact that Stockton Rush, CEO of the company, would be their operator to the ocean floor. He wouldn't put his ass on the line if there was a hint of danger, right? If ignoring danger made it go away, those five men would be back in St. Johns right now, and Suleman would be thinking about heading back to university in the fall with one hell of a 'what I did on my summer vacation' talk.

I'm sorry that he's not.

His dad was not an adventurer. He was a thrill seeking partaker of extreme tourism, an expensive gilded-age hobby that has resurfaced in an era of unimaginable wealth, just as it did in the late 1800s and early 1900s. The plutocrats privatize the 'thrill of discovery' and put the onus on their extreme thrill seeking fuckups on the shoulders of the rest of us. Us - the dull, plodding class of people who can't look up from our jobs for a minute to dream of a vacation that won't put us in the hole or lose us our jobs. The rest of us who are one disaster away from homelessness, squeezed dry as the ladders of social mobility or even a comfortable few years of retirement are pulled up, rungs sawn out, left fighting for crumbs in a dystopia.

I'm bitter - yes.

Of all things, I hoped to leave the younger generation a better world.

Instead, I watch as the machinery of wealth-worship spins up again, knowing that people will stretch up their necks and willingly be stuffed for the table.

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[batfambitches]

Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne; Red Robin:

Age: 20 (default, flexible)

Alias: Red Robin

Headcanons

Tim is Autistic

Timothy Jackson Drake was born to Jack and Janet Drake, both come from old money but well Jack was born and raised in Gotham Janet was not. When he was younger his parents were around more, and they brought him traveling with them. Once he started school they started leaving him at home, he had a nanny at first when he was younger but by the time he was 8 he had skipped 2 grades in school and they decided he didn't need a dedicated nanny. He spent his weeks boarding at school after all.

They had a driver employed for the trips to and from school on Mondays, Fridays and for holidays, a chef who came to make meals for him on the weekends and hired security on the premises even when he wasn't there. He didn't have a dedicated care taker anymore though, and it was rare that he was at home at the same time as his parents.

The last thing that he remembered doing with them as a family was going to Haly's Circus, he was so excited to see it with them after going by himself his driver was with him, but he's pretty sure he only went in with him out of pity the day before during their first show during their stop in Gotham. He didn't expect what happened with the Grayson's any more than the rest of the audience, and it eventually led him to a life he couldn't have imagined.

After that he spent most of his free time, which was a lot with absent parents and being younger than all his classmates, doing school work and obsessing over Batman and later his new prodigy. He put together pieces and figured things out, until he heard one day that Robin had been killed by The Joker. He had a pit in his stomach at that, because he knew what that meant even if others didn't. The Joker had killed Bruce Wayne's son Jason Todd.

When Batman started going off the deep end he went to find Nightwing and talk to him first, when he dismissed him he showed up at Dick's job and told him "I told you why I'm here last night." to which he was guided out to the mans car by his shoulder with an excuse of 'bringing the kid home.' From there he eventually became Robin officially a few weeks before his 13th birthday, trying his best to live up to the title but feeling like he never would. Eventually he became a part of the Teen Titans along with a few other hero friends, traveling back and forth from Titan Tower and Gotham as he was needed.

In December after his 13th birthday he was kicked out of school for missing to much time, because he had so much other stuff to do Tim came to an agreement with Bruce. He would continue to study and learn what he would be in school independently, and when he turned 16 he would take the GED test and apply for online courses for college. The reason his parents weren't notified? Bruce offered to his parents to keep an eye on him and that basically became them letting him become his temporary legal guardian.

After Damian showed up and was made Robin he felt defeated and replaceable, the taunting that he liked to do didn't help the now 14 year olds complex. Despite the fact he wasn't Batman's Robin anymore? He still went out and rebranded himself as Red Robin and working alone, the first time the other's tried to work with him after this he ignored them before explaining the next day why. They had pushed him to the side like he didn't matter, and even if they didn't mean to? He needed time after that.

He was the first one to figure out that Bruce was alive and trapped in time after he was declared dead only 6 months after Damian had come to live with him. In Bruce's absence he kept his word and took the GED test a year and a half before he was originally planning on, getting lawyers involved to allow him to do so to get it out of the way and he could focus on other things. During this time he became doing what he could to keep Wayne Enterprise running smoothly well Bruce was gone, also joining an online college and taking classes for both a business and finance degree.

Once Bruce had returned Tim stepped back at Wayne enterprise, still stepping in when Bruce needed help because he was busy with Batman things. He was only a few months into his college classes when Bruce came back and now with more time to take electives, he added a few photography classes to his roster. He finished his business and finance degrees by the time he was 18, but he kept signing up for different creative classes such as photography, design, digital editing and so on as he wanted until eventually he inadvertently had enough credits for an arts degree at 19.

His parents by now are no better then when he was younger, he saw them maybe once a year and they barley knew what he was up to unless they saw an article about him. When he turned 18 he went to Bruce with a whole power point style argument about why he should officially adopt him now that his parents couldn't argue against it, he didn't need it though and Bruce interrupted on slide 2. He told him that if he wanted to finish his presentation he could, but he didn't need to convince him and if that's what he wanted he could officially adopt him.