Tumgik
#Association database or database of associations
queersatanic · 6 hours
Text
Carl Grant, a Vietnam veteran with dementia, wandered out of a hospital room to charge a cellphone he imagined he had. When he wouldn’t sit still, the police officer escorting Grant body-slammed him, ricocheting the patient’s head off the floor. Taylor Ware, a former Marine and aspiring college student, walked the grassy grounds of an interstate rest stop trying to shake the voices in his head. After Ware ran from an officer, he was attacked by a police dog, jolted by a stun gun, pinned on the ground and injected with a sedative. And Donald Ivy Jr., a former three-sport athlete, left an ATM alone one night when officers sized him up as suspicious and tried to detain him. Ivy took off, and police tackled and shocked him with a stun gun, belted him with batons and held him facedown. Each man was unarmed. Each was not a threat to public safety. And despite that, each died after police used a kind of force that is not supposed to be deadly — and can be much easier to hide than the blast of an officer’s gun.
...
Over a decade, more than 1,000 people died after police subdued them through means not intended to be lethal, an investigation led by The Associated Press found.... These sorts of deadly encounters happened just about everywhere, according to an analysis of a database AP created. Big cities, suburbs and rural America. Red states and blue states. Restaurants, assisted-living centers and, most commonly, in or near the homes of those who died. The deceased came from all walks of life — a poet, a nurse, a saxophone player in a mariachi band, a truck driver, a sales director, a rodeo clown and even a few off-duty law enforcement officers. The toll, however, disproportionately fell on Black Americans like Grant and Ivy. Black people made up a third of those who died despite representing only 12% of the U.S. population. Others feeling the brunt were impaired by a medical, mental health or drug emergency, a group particularly susceptible to force even when lightly applied.
...
Reporters filed nearly 7,000 requests for government documents and body-camera footage, receiving more than 700 autopsy reports or death certificates, and uncovering video in at least four dozen cases that has never been published or widely distributed. Medical officials cited law enforcement as causing or contributing to about half of the deaths. In many others, significant police force went unmentioned and drugs or preexisting health conditions were blamed instead. Video in a few dozen cases showed some officers mocked people as they died, laughing or making comments such as “sweaty little hog,” “screaming like a little girl” and “lazy f---.” In other cases, officers expressed clear concern for the people they were subduing.
24 notes · View notes
robo-dino-puppy · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
horizon forbidden west | aloy 103/?
37 notes · View notes
odinsblog · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
A report finds that half of the 1,700 people on the Nassau County Police Department gang database have no criminal history, and nearly a quarter of the people were on the list "without a clear rationale".
A list of suspected gang members managed by the Nassau County Police Department includes people with little to no explanation or vague justifications, according to a report released Tuesday by a civil rights group.
The LatinoJustice report, which was shared with WSHU and Gothamist, finds that half of the 1,700 people on the gang database have no criminal history and nearly a quarter of the people were on the list without a clear rationale.
LatinoJustice obtained a redacted version of the list from the Freeport Police Department through a public records request.
Advocates warn that having your name on such a list could have a reverberating effect on the individuals, leading to deportation and less lenient sentences in the event of a future arrest.
“This is a practice of criminalizing Latinos and African Americans for their appearance, who they associate with, and where they live,” said Meena Roldán Oberdick, a lawyer at LatinoJustice, who authored the report. “There's no other way to describe this other than racial profiling.”
The Freeport gang database does not include any white supremacists groups and only three members of the Hells Angels motorcycle gang, according to the report.
(continue reading)
39 notes · View notes
ladysqueakinpip · 8 months
Text
literally how has AI not been banned yet
6 notes · View notes
kokote · 1 year
Text
Since my boyfriend graduated, his university stripped his library account of access meaning I can’t read academic papers anymore 😩😩
8 notes · View notes
cruelsister-moved2 · 2 years
Text
i rmbr doing a quadruple take bc i used the adls hate symbols database specifically bc its like a useful resource to identify dogwhistles and white supremacist movements etc which are often really hard to look up like if i saw smth that gave me weird vibes & am not sure. BUT literally they have acab listed right alongside 88 and ak/ia etc 🧐
1 note · View note
botanicalsword · 2 months
Text
How they approach you ✧ Check their Mars Sign
Mars symbolizes our energy, desires, and pursuit methods. It's associated with our passion, sex drive, and how we chase what we need. In relationships, Mars plays a significant role. It's about how we express our desires, assert ourselves, and handle conflict.
Photo credit @le.sinex
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mars in Aries
They're similar to determined marathon runners who charge forward with enthusiasm, undeterred by any obstacles. Just don't be surprised if they occasionally bump into a wall or two in their relentless pursuit.
Mars in Taurus They're the patient gardeners of love, carefully tending to their relationships like nurturing plants. They take their time to analyze the soil, wait for the perfect weather, and then make their move with unwavering determination.
Mars in Gemini They're the social chameleons of dating, adapting their approach to match the vibe of the person they're interested in. It's like they have a whole wardrobe of different personalities they can slip into, making them the masters of versatility.
Mars in Cancer They're the masters of dropping hints, leaving a trail of clues like a mischievous detective. They keep you on your toes with their mysterious and unpredictable behavior, making every interaction feel like an episode of a thrilling crime drama.
Mars in Leo They're the extravagant romantics, showering their love interest with grand gestures and lavish gifts. They believe in expressing themselves boldly and fearlessly, even if it means occasionally emptying their wallet in the process.
Mars in Virgo They're the undercover romantics, pretending to be cool and collected on the surface while secretly hoping for the other person to make the first move. It's like they're playing a game of emotional hide-and-seek, waiting for someone to uncover their hidden desires.
Mars in Libra They're the hesitant lovers, constantly second-guessing themselves and fearing rejection. They overanalyze every move and struggle with decision-making, like someone trying to choose the perfect Instagram filter for their relationship.
Mars in Scorpio They're the stealthy strategists, waiting in the shadows for the perfect moment to strike. They believe in the power of patience and calculated action, like a ninja plotting their next move.
Mars in Sagittarius They're the jacks-of-all-trades in the game of love. They have a bag full of tricks to please their partner, from witty banter to spontaneous adventures. They're like a one-person circus, always ready to entertain and surprise.
Mars in Capricorn They're the master manipulators, using their cunning and wit to get what they want. They play the game of love like a seasoned chess player, making calculated moves and occasionally catching their opponents off guard.
Mars in Aquarius They're the enigmatic superheroes, silently observing from the sidelines until they muster up the courage to reveal their feelings in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. It's like they have a secret identity, waiting for the perfect time to save the day.
Mars in Pisces They're the poetic dreamers, expressing their feelings in intricate metaphors and whimsical prose. Trying to understand their emotions is like converting a riddle wrapped in a love letter, but once you unravel the mystery, it's like discovering a hidden treasure.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content
Quick Access to : ❥ Astro / Asteroid Indicators ❥ Synastry / Composite Chart Observations ❥ House Stellium Observations ❥ Astro basic info / Brief reads ❥ Asteroid database ❥ Personal studies ✧ spiritual journal
Exclusive access : Patreon
/ instagram : @le.sinex / @botanicalsword
1K notes · View notes
ao3commentoftheday · 4 months
Note
I've never orphaned a fic, but I'm glad AO3 has the option to do that. When I was in my late teens, I deleted all of my work from FFN because I thought I was done writing fanfic and for some reason got the idea into my head that it was dangerous to just leave them up, in case future employers or whoever found them. Even though I was writing very tame, mostly K+ and T rated stuff based on relatively uncontroversial original works. *facepalm*
Anyway, if I'd had the option to orphan my fics back then, I think I probably would have done that instead of deleting them. I wish it had been an option. I don't intend on ever orphaning what I'm writing now, but it makes me happy to know that if I ever did want to no longer be associated with it, I'd have the option to do that without taking it offline completely.
It's things like the orphan feature that really highlight the fact that AO3 was created and is maintained by fans. The people who volunteer there are also people who read fic and people who write fic. They get it.
Other features that I think are fantastic include, but are not limited to:
being able to have private bookmarks
being able to subscribe to a single fic, or to a fic series or to an author
the Fannish Next of Kin system whereby you can set a guardian for your fics in case of your death or incapacitation
site skins, which allow you to change the look and feel of the site to something that works best for you
the ability to have a pseudonym account on your main account, so if you want separate our your works that way you can
Tag Wranglers, who read all of the weird and wacky ways we tag our fics and make them searchable and filterable in the database
the search and filter capabilities!!
otp:true
the kudos feature, so I can still show love even when I don't have words
RSS feed capability
the ability to restrict access to my works and to restrict comments on my works
blocking and muting!
never having to click the Proceed button again
Anyone else have a favourite feature that I didn't list above? (if any of my points is new to you, lemme know - I'm always happy to do a deep dive)
2K notes · View notes
gilbertdb · 2 years
Text
7 Fascinating Facts Regarding Pediatric Gastropathy
PEDIATRICS EMAIL LIST:
You may contact the top kid specialists by using our pediatric email list, which has been thoroughly validated. To market your offerings to pediatricians, you'll need a thoroughly tested advertising strategy and a robust client database. There is tremendous competition in the market. Without a strong campaign approach at the outset, you cannot establish your reputation. As a top-tier source of medical data, GILBERT DATA offers highly flexible pediatrician mailing lists to assist marketers in connecting with the appropriate pediatric decision-makers with their healthcare products, equipment, and other services. In order to reach out to and offer your medical solutions to as many potential consumers as you can, we will give you access to a broader network.
Tumblr media
With birth rates in the millions each year, pediatricians are among the busiest doctors in the United States. Pediatricians provide excellent targets for marketing initiatives involving continuing education invitations, medical equipment and supplies, drugs, and other healthcare-related products. Since we value the confidence of our customers, we only supply datasets that don't result in bounced or rejected emails or messages.
You have undoubtedly started learning about gastroparesis and have more questions if your child has recently been diagnosed with it. Here are some further details on the condition:
7 ADDITIONAL FACTS ABOUT GASTROPARESIS IN CHILDREN
1. THE FUNCTIONS OF THE STOMACH
The heart, fundus, body, antrum, and pylorus are the five main components of the stomach. When all of these components are working properly, food can be accommodated, stored, compressed, digested, and pushed into the small
intestine. However, any combination of these five areas may be faulty and result in symptoms in a child with gastroparesis. Additionally, foods or liquids may be to blame for the symptoms.
We now lack a good test that can identify which one or more of the five components is malfunctioning, though we can perform a four-hour gastric emptying scan to see if the stomach empties slowly and can discriminate between liquid and solid emptying. We do, however, have drugs that target certain aspects of the stomach. Therefore, based on which medication helps reduce some of the symptoms, we can figure out which section is the issue after some trial and error. To treat the symptoms, we may occasionally need to take many drugs.
2.AN INCIDENCE
While not particularly prevalent in youngsters, gastroparesis is common in adults. It usually occurs after a viral infection in children. But frequently, the reason is unknown, which is referred to as idiopathic. It does occur when there is diabetes or a neurologic issue present, although it is less common in children. In addition, certain children may experience joint hypermobility, a disorder that can have an impact on various body systems, including the digestive system, and may result in gastroparesis.
3.In children of various ages, IT SEEMS DIFFERENT
Because children can't express their pain, gastroparesis manifests differently in infants and toddlers. They frequently have a feeding issue because they abruptly stop eating and become cranky and vomitous. The diagnosis is simpler in older children because they can express their feelings and report symptoms like bloating, nausea, and feeling full.
4.THE DIFFERENT GRADES OF SERIOUSNESS
Gastroparesis can range from minor to severe. Gastric failure is the term used to describe the severe variant. Children who have it stop eating and constantly throwing up, which causes them to lose weight and get dehydrated. In order to acquire nutrients, they frequently need to be fed through a feeding tube that skips the stomach. Sometimes they can't handle it either, therefore they may need to receive whole parenteral nourishment intravenously (TPN). Thankfully, this is a rare variation of the illness.
5.CONDITION OF LIFE
Many kids might get relief from their symptoms with the correct care. The process of receiving the proper diagnosis and subsequent therapy, however, can be drawn out and have an influence on a child's quality of life. These kids miss a lot of school and extracurricular activities as a result of their stomach pain, nausea, and vomiting symptoms. Most are taught at home. Furthermore, they may improve gradually over a period of several years. Some of them won't get better, and some of them will live with their symptoms for the rest of their lives. In most cases, post-viral gastroparesis gets better in three months to three years. After puberty, gastroparesis typically improves in patients with hypermobility.
6.The best treatment options
Every child will respond differently to treatment for gastroparesis, but alternatives may include prescription drugs, dietary changes, and medical and surgical treatments. A GI-focused psychologist can instruct children in certain methods to lessen the feelings of nausea and abdominal pain and to increase appetite. These methods for coping with pain and nausea can enhance everyday functioning, school attendance, nutrition, and weight growth. Multiple professionals are needed to meet the needs of children with severe forms. We advise patients to work with a team that consists of a neuro gastroenterologist, nutritionist, psychologist, and social services to assist children with their academics.
7.WHEN TO CONSULT A SPECIALIST
I advise having another discussion with your primary care physician if your child has experienced an acute sickness, such as the stomach flu, and if the symptoms, such as bloating, fullness, and pain, have not subsided. Your pediatrician could suggest referring your child to a pediatric gastroenterologist if they have been treating your child's symptoms with medication but they aren't improving.
0 notes
nonasuch · 1 year
Text
here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:
so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody. 
and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.
and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!
except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—
except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —
he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —
“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.
Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.
another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.
Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—
the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.
and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.
when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of  “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and  falls silent herself. 
Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.
there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.
Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.
“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.
so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else. 
and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway. 
so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens. 
and a trooper comes in.
and the trooper takes off his helmet.
and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”
7K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 4 months
Text
Soap x Cypher's masterlist 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes / dubcon / explicit, spanking Soap/female reader Sergeant MacTavish teaches you a lesson about honesty
Tumblr media
"Cypher."
"Yeah?" You barely look up, too focused on the raw data that's filtering across your screen.
"Laswell asked for you." You don't hear it at first, the request. You're too lost in the lines and lines of code, numbers, letters, symbols all working together, where is it, where- "Cypher!" your coworker barks, and you jump.
"Shit. Sorry... what?"
"Laswell. Upstairs. Briefing room. Now?" Your lips quirk, head hanging. Yeah, guess you deserved that.
"Did she say for what?"
"No. And it's not my place to ask." They jerk their head, and you lockdown your console. Fine.
Station Chief Laswell scares you. She's probably one of the smartest people you've ever met, quick with analysis, observation, she can read a situation from top to bottom in less than three seconds. She knows everyone, and everything.
And, she handles the 141.
You don't have frequent interaction with her. You report to her, ultimately, but it's hard to understand where she falls on the org chart. It's hard to understand where you fall on the org chart, if you're being honest, since you're not military, just a civilian contractor. All of the authoritative titling and chain of command makes your head spin a little bit, and you've pretty much decided to ignore it all. Keep your head down, do your job, mind your ps and qs. Your yes sirs and no sirs.
You tap your knuckles against the briefing room door.
"Come in." It's a man's voice, a deep, smooth voice with a British accent, and it makes you pause, confused. I thought Laswell was up here?
You push the door open, hesitantly, and what you find makes your stomach nearly crawl up into your mouth.
The 141 are in here. You glance around hastily before finding Laswell, eyes a little wider than you’re comfortable with. They’re all seated at the table, looking at you, and when you peek at Sergeant MacTavish, he cocks his head so subtly, you might have missed it. Fuck. Shit. Why is he looking at you like that? You think you might pass out. Why do you feel like this around him?
"Gentleman. This is the civilian specialist I told you about." She gestures to you, giving them your government name before continuing, and they all nod. "This is Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish." She points to each, making the introductions to which you nod, and smile, trying as hard as you can to make eye contact so they don't think you're rude. When she gets to MacTavish, your stomach heats, and on instinct, your eyes drop to the floor before glancing back up to find him focused on you, jaw tight, eyes narrowed.
"You're Cypher." Lieutenant Riley comments, and you nod, surprised. How does he know you?
"That's uh... my nickname. Sir."
“Cypher is our resident analytics expert, and we believe she’s located your targets.” Laswell continues, tapping a key on her laptop that wakes up the black screen of the giant TV. You do a double take when you see your work up there, your lists of compiled data, cross matched and sorted. “I was hoping you could walk them through some of this.” Oh. Oh no. Talk to them?
“Uh okay.” Your fingers find each other, instinctually, trying to pick and tear at your skin as your heart rate speeds up. “This is-“ you glance at the screen, and then back at their expectant faces. Sergeant MacTavish is watching you, predatory gleam in his eyes, and you gulp. Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here. “This is a highlight of hot zones in two different target cities. It’s pulled from local agencies’ databases, everything from license plate readers to residency records, IP hits and census information. After cross matching with all possible identities for your targets, family members, associated persons, patterns of behavior, I confidently believe I've identified and located your subjects, and they reside in these areas.”
"You know who they are?" The Captain asks, surprised, and you nod.
“How confident are ye?” Sergeant MacTavish asks, and you blink.
“Uh, like ninety percent” He looks… displeased. “Sir.” You tack on at the end, hoping to see some sort of approval for it, and when it doesn’t come, the ache inside you widens.
“I like those odds. Heard you were good, but this is something' else. Our intelligence has been working on ID'ing these guys for months with no luck.” Sergeant Garrick raises an eyebrow, exchanging a look with his Captain, and you brighten a little bit. Okay, that’s good. Right? You did good?
“Not sure ninety percent is good enough.” Sergeant MacTavish answers, and Laswell nods like she agrees. You wilt. Welp. And now your boss agrees. “Can ye show me the raw data?”
“I- sure, it’s…” you snap your mouth shut abruptly when he stands, and motions for you to follow him out the door.
“Let’s go then.”
You don’t make it back down to your console. Instead, he pushes you inside a maintenance closet, hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you down to your knees in the back, behind a shelf.
“Sergeant I don’t understand, I-“
“Ye tryin’ to send us out on a wild goose chase?”
“What?” You stare up at him, jaw slack. He’s terrifying, lit by damp, yellow light, arms crossed in front of his chest. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that makes your thighs press together instinctively and at the same time, your heart starts palpitating. “Sir, I don’t-“ his hand darts forward, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them just a bit with a menacing smile.
"Are ye tryin' to send us on a wild goose chase? Yes or no, specialist."
"Nossir." It mushes together in your mouth, vowels trapped between your cheeks, and he nods.
"I didnae think ye were." He releases you, only to step closer, and you gulp when his hands find the waistband of your pants. "Take these to yer knees. Now."
"My... my pants?"
"Aye." When you don't move, he sighs. "Ye dinnae want me to have to ask a second time, do ye?" And no, you don't. Because you're sure whatever is coming will be far worse if you test his patience.
It's humiliating, dropping the pants to your knees, and the mortification gets even worse when his finger slips under the hem of your very boring, generic brand black cotton thong, pulling it with a yank so it jerks you forward and you almost trip.
"Sergeant... Sir, I'm sorry, I-"
"Why are ye sorry? Stay put." He turns away for a second, locating an old, fold up chair that he sets up where he was standing, settling into it with his knees spread. "Now, come."
"I'm sorry, I don't know why... why this is happening, I don't understand." You try to explain your confusion, but it all comes out as nonsense, and he nods, sympathetically, like he's sad for you, in a mocking, cruel way.
He taps his thigh.
"Hips here." He instructs, moving you like a doll when you start to bend down, pressing your belly against one leg, your breasts and collarbone against the other, ass in the air. "Bleedin' Christ. Ye sure are a sight." He squeezes you, fingers rough in the swell of your cheeks, before smoothing over the skin of your hip, pressing a firm palm to the small of your back. "Do ye know why we're doin' this?"
"No." You whisper, eyes closed. You don't know why you're doing any of this, why he's doing it. You don't know why he picked you, why he keeps you in his sights, why he has you bent over his knee. You don't know why you felt floaty and fucked up after the first time, why you dreamt about it, why you felt like you needed it. This is wrong. Isn't it? He swats your ass, barely a tap, and you flinch. "Sir. Sorry. Sir."
"Ye said you were ninety percent."
"I did."
"But I know, ye're better than ninety percent, aren't ye, my wee genius?" Your lungs are burning with the breath you're holding, and you let it out in a burst.
"Yes." You whisper to the floor.
"Why did ye lie?" The question is followed by a swing of air, and then a palm is stinging across your skin, pin prickles of pain making you whimper. "Count."
"One-e." You gasp. He doesn't pull his punches. He strikes fast. True. Twice in a row, the intensity making you choke on a whine. "Two, three. I didn't."
"Ye did." He rubs the point of impact, cooing at your ass like it needs comfort, before asking again. "Why did ye lie?"
"I wasn't, I-" Smack. This one comes in the exact same spot, a cruel choice, and you bite down on your lip, eyes scrunching shut. "Four."
"Why did ye lie?" You don't answer right away, and he swings, palm swatting down onto your other cheek, skin rippling beneath the hit. It steals your breath, and he prompts you again, with the same question, and you fail to answer, his response coming swiftly against you, smacking raw against burning skin. It's starting to shift now, the pain blurring the lines between uncomfortable and unbearable, while also taking on a different characteristic all together, one that has blood rushing beneath your skin, clit rubbing against the front of your pulled tight thong uncomfortably, not enough contact or pressure to do anything, but enough to drive you insane. You blink, trying to keep yourself together, trying to prevent floating away into space somewhere.
"Sir!" You pant, and he laughs, shadow of a hand swinging through the air, landing against you with a resounding crack.
"Tell me. Why did ye lie?"
"I-" You scramble for an answer. Why did you lie? Why didn't you just say the truth, the facts. What you knew, without a doubt. Why did you lie? "I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Of... of the room. Of making a mistake."
"But ye didnae make a mistake. Ye found a needle in a haystack." You nod. He's right, you did. "So the next time I ask ye how confident ye are, ye say one hundred. Ye tell everyone in that room, that ye did something other people can't, and ye own it."
"Y-yes sir." You whisper, and he runs a palm over the screaming skin of your ass.
"Good girl." He murmurs, your lower lip trembling. "Ye did good for me. So good."
"Thank you." You sniffle, and he shifts your body, lowering you to your knees in front of the chair, pants bunched under your bones like a little cushion.
"Sir?" You ask, confused as he pats your cheek, bending to press a long, hot kiss to your mouth, fingertips stroking across your pussy, overtop your underwear, before pulling back with a devilish smirk.
“Open.” He instructs, and your eyes widen. “Not goin’ tell ye again, sweet Cy. Open. Now.” You do, lips parting, mouth cranking wide, and he removes his fingers, hand drifting to his pants. Oh, fuck.
If your mouth wasn’t already hanging open, it would have dropped to the floor when he pulled his cock free. It’s long, long enough that it’s intimidating, and thick, probably as wide as your wrist, flushed red at the tip. There’s a bead of pre come dripping from the head, cozy crop of brown curls at the base.
“S-s-sir.” You squeak, and he smiles, cupping the back of your head as he taps your lips with it. "It won't- I can't, it's too-"
"I'll teach ye." He grunts, feeding you his cock slowly, tears falling down over your cheeks when he presses it into the back of your throat, as much as you can go, not even to the root yet. "That's it. Jus' like that, easy." He uses your mouth, your face, hand firm on the back of your head, stroking in and out between your lips until they go numb, faster and faster until you believe you might pass out, cock head jamming down past your tongue, blocking your airway with each thrust. You think you might black out. You could be blacked out right now, and not even know. You're not positive you're still in your body, the body with a sore, stinging ass, wet pussy, and occupied mouth, your Sergeant using you as he sees fit, determined to possess you like some sort of demon. You gag on him, throat seizing, and he pushes through it, bound and determined, your name a ragged whisper whistling through his teeth. "Fuck, swallow it. Dinnae lose a drop." He grits, and then plunges all the way, flooding you with sticky, sour salted earth that pours down your throat, hot come dripping down into your stomach.
You sit there, on your knees, after, stunned, unmoving. He shifts around you, pulling your pants up, fixing your hair, wiping your face. He's speaking to you too, murmuring soft words in your ear, lips touching your cheek, your temple, something about how good you are, how sweet, how he's not going to let anything happen to you, how you don't have to worry, because he's here now- and you slip into it like you're falling into your bed, closing your eyes and drifting away, melting into his side when he gathers you up, cradles you against his chest.
"C'mon sweet Cy. Let's get ye to bed."
491 notes · View notes
Note
i have a little request! what happens with mafia mingi & yn? do they ever meet again? if so, how?
same with wooyoung! do they still meet at the convenience store every night? did he bring the others over to introduce reader to them?
oh im curious yeahhhhh
ateez as mafia members pt 2
original post here
pairing: mafia!mingi x reader, mafia!wooyoung x reader, mentions of ot8!mafia
genre: fluff, crack, a continuation of the mafia tropes brainrot-fest
length: 2.1k
c/w: explicit language, violence, weapons, mentions of alcohol, unedited
a/n: thank you anon for requesting (and special thanks @sorryimananti-romantic for validating my writing 🫶) this was only meant to be like a five dot-point thing explaining what happens, but obviously mafia!ateez has me in their chokehold. mafia!ateez in my brain: it's free real estate
mingi
Tumblr media
it takes a few days for you to reopen your bar after your fateful meeting with ccg
ccg as in cute coat guy
because quite frankly, that night shook you up a little
mingi most definitely notices your absence
but it's not like he can just check up on how you're doing
not when your bar is closed and he has no real excuse to show up apart from "i was worried about you"
after he reports back to base and rejoins ateez, hongjoong's girlfriend offers to hack into the database and find out what your phone number is
("it'll literally take me like, two seconds")
mingi refuses though because he wants to do things the right way
at least...when it comes to things concerning you
after you reassure yourself that the thugs chasing after cute coat guy aren't going to kill you by association, you feel safe enough to open up the mist again
his leather coat usually sits draped over your chair behind the countertop
originally, you think about washing it before returning it to him
...whenever he shows up you suppose
but then you kind of like the smokey smell of gunpowder with an underlying hint of his cologne that is on the coat
so you leave it as it is
in fact, you might have actually worn it a couple of times
you like how the end of the coat brushes against your calves, how the sleeves fall past your fingertips, how it engulfs your entire frame like an embrace
but mostly, you like how it reminds you of the handsome stranger; who claims he is a good bad guy; who you still do not know the name of
you wonder if he made it back safely that night
you're wearing the coat as you're closing up for the night - it's already well past midnight
you're just about to reach for the last glass on one of the tables when you hear the door to your bar opening
"sorry, i’m closed for the nigh- oh," you pause
it’s ccg
who currently has one leg and arm halfway through the threshold of your door, now frozen mid-step at your words
“if now’s not a good time, i can come back another day?” he starts out hesitantly
“now’s great! good. yes,” you chuckle nervously and try not to be too enthusiastic at his appearance. “now’s good, come in”
you catch his eyes briefly flicker down for a moment before they return to your eyes
then he gives you a soft look and greets you gently, “hi”
“hi,” you return, brain shutting down on you
“you look cute in that,” he jerks his chin down slightly to motion at what he was looking at just moments ago
his leather coat
that you are currently wearing
you squeak in embarrassment, hands fumbling to take it off while you vomit out explanations as to why you’re wearing it
your fingers get caught up in the sleeves
but then he is stepping closer slowly so as not to alarm you, before he grasps the ends of the sleeves and helps tug them off your arms
mingi can’t help but use the opportunity to tenderly hold one of your hands
he’s missed the way your smaller hands fit snugly in his
“did you come back for your coat?” you try to break the silence, because otherwise you are afraid he will hear the heartbeats coming from inside your chest
he nods, “wanted to make sure you were okay, too”
there is a third reason that he does not say
that he just wanted to see you
“i’m okay now,” you reassure him
because he’s back now and he’s safe
he folds the leather coat and places it on the countertop before he says, “i don’t think i ever got your name?”
you tell him then ask him for his
“mingi”
“mingi,” you repeat
he repeats your name in return
“mingi,” you say yet again
“y/n”
you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation
“mingi, want to help me close the bar?”
and so you find yourself in his company as you give him easy tasks to do
closing up has always been a tedious job, especially when your body and mind are groggy with fatigue
but with mingi around, an accidental brush whenever you shuffle past each other, a conversation easily flowing between you both, you are awake as ever
even long after all the tables and shot glasses have been cleaned and polished, floors swept, bottles of alcohol reorganised, mingi still has not left
and at some point during the night once you two sit at the countertop to rest your legs, both of you have subconsciously inched closer together in your seats, bodies seeking the warmth and proximity of the other
you are unsure how long you two talk for
but just like that first, fateful meeting with mingi, he stands up to take his leave all too soon
“goodnight, mingi”
mingi buffers for a minute before he decides to do it
he reaches out for your hand, clasping it gently to bring it up to his lips as he presses a light kiss against the back of your hand
and with a goodbye of his own, he turns for the door
except he lingers in the doorway, asking, “will i see you again?”
a smile graces your lips at the irony of the situation and you tell him it's not like you'll be going anywhere; he's free to come visit any time
but you also feel your stomach flutter
because last time, you were the one tugging on mingi’s vest, timidly wondering if that was going to be the last you saw of him
tonight, he is the one unwilling to part ways
not to say that you aren’t either
“i’ll see you around, then,” he says with finality, voice still soft-spoken
and then he leaves
but just mere seconds later you spot it
his leather coat
still folded on your counter where he had placed it earlier
"wait, your coat!" you rush outside with it
mingi is only a few feet away
he could very easily turn around and take it from you
but then he just winks, gives you a tip of his hat and says, "next time," before he's walking away again
you chew on the inside of your cheek to stop the silly grin from blooming across your face
because something tells you that you're going to be hanging on to mingi's coat for him for a while
even after next time
Tumblr media
wooyoung
Tumblr media
it feels like deja vu
a whole gang of mafia members sauntering into your convenience store like a scene straight out of a movie
admittedly, they are much more pleasing to the eye than the group that was chasing after wooyoung weeks ago
but still
these are several muscular men in tank tops, leather jackets and heavy chained necklaces
your hand itches for the comforting weight of the pepper spray in your purse that wooyoung had gotten you just last week
you haven't had a reason to need it since wooyoung basically lives in your store now
and he always walks you home after your shift
but now seems like a more than good enough time to use it
"you usually work the night shift here?"
a voice causes your eyes to snap up
the man at the head of the group addresses you with a quirk of his brow - it's pierced, you notice
"...yeah," you answer
you wonder if this is your last shift at work and at life
and then just like a repeat of last time, you spot wooyoung's frantic bounce of curls appear from across the street of your store
you pray to the heavens above that he isn't being chased by anyone else this time
because the thought of two gangs crossing paths inside your modest store?
you don't think it's going to look like a store after their fight is through
you see the way wooyoung's eyes widen when he spots the thugs just mere feet away from you and you see a curse form on his lips
you just need to hold out until he gets here
wooyoung will keep you safe
wooyoung will-
"then you must know," the man leans in a little closer to grab your attention, "where i can find-"
wooyoung bursts through the door
"-the super sour gummy worms?" the man finishes
you physically cannot help the words that blurt out of you in disbelief, "the fuck you just say?" 
"hongjoong!" wooyoung's piercing shout interrupts you both
wooyoung worms his way through the gang and you stare incredulously at him before you say, "the fuck did you just say?"
he ignores you in favour of pressing his hands against the chest of the man - hongjoong? - and trying to push him towards the doors of your store
quite unsuccessfully, you must add
"the fuck are you guys doing here?" wooyoung yells
"what the fuck is going on?" you demand
"holy fuck, not even hongjoong swears this much"
"fuck yeah, potty mouth!"
"stop swearing you fucktards!"
one of the men who has been lingering on the edge of the group sidles up to the counter, looking at you with an apologetic grimace
"sorry you have to deal with...this," he shakes his head just as another man comes to join you both, "i'm jongho, by the way"
"seonghwa," the other man introduces himself with a gentle voice
these mafia men are surprisingly kind
and normal
except, you suppose, anyone in comparison to wooyoung would be normal
"are you all wooyoung's, uhh, friends?" you don't know whether they know you know
they chuckle, "yeah, we're his friends. his brothers, too, you could say"
you realise the rest of the men have started to settle down and are standing in a rough semi-circle around your counter
wooyoung is currently grumbling and muttering indignantly under his breath with someone's arm thrown over his shoulders, though it looks more like he's a child being scolded by his father than it looks a friendly gesture
"so to what do i owe the pleasure of a visit from all of you?" you ask them, now that there is no swearing being thrown across the room and you realise they aren’t going to shoot you through the head
"had to see for ourselves who was making our wooyoung all smitten. always sneaking out at night like a tween"
"yunho!" wooyoung hisses and elbows said man in the ribs
except with the height difference, it's more like his hips
it's amusing to see how everyone has the upper hand over wooyoung's brattiness
"am i meeting the in-laws already?" you smirk at wooyoung, "you like me or something, jung wooyoung?"
he flushes bright red and you're quite positive that if you made him take his socks off, you would find him blushing straight down to his toes
"that's it!" he hollers, arms flailing and shooing everyone, "out! out! out!"
you know they can easily resist his pushy hands, but they simply snicker and let themselves be herded towards the doors
"bye, darling!" someone jumps up and down to catch your gaze over the heads of everyone else
"shut up, san!"
yunho, you think you recall his name being, flutters his fingers at you cheekily, "we'll be back soon!"
and then he lets out an indignant yelp when wooyoung slaps his back with a screech, "no, you guys won't!"
you're laughing heartily by this point, unrestrained and very much enjoying their antics
"bye, everyone," you wave them off and then blow wooyoung an exaggerated kiss, "see you later, wooyoungie!"
everyone cackles with glee at the sight of him trying to dig himself into the ground
the sound of their ruckus finally dies down as they exit and walk further away from your store
and then you hear a distant wail
"i didn't get my gummy worms!"
you shake your head with a fond smile and take a seat at the register, but not before setting aside a pack of those ‘super sour gummy worms’ for hongjoong
and then, like always, you look at the clock and count the seconds as they tick past
counting down the seconds until wooyoung comes back to see you
again
Tumblr media
620 notes · View notes
vaspider · 6 months
Text
The company said its systems were not breached and that attackers gathered the data by guessing the login credentials of a group of users and then scraping more people’s information from a feature known as DNA Relatives. Users opt into sharing their information through DNA Relatives for others to see. 
...
The full picture of why the data was stolen, how much more the attackers have, and whether it is actually focused entirely on Ashkenazim is still unclear.
...
Callow notes that the situation raises broader questions about keeping sensitive genetic information safe and the risks of making it available in services that are designed like social networks to facilitate sharing.
...
“This incident really highlights the risks associated with DNA databases,” Callow says. “The fact that accounts had reportedly opted into the ‘DNA Relatives’ feature is particularly concerning as it could potentially result in extremely sensitive information becoming public.”
Yeah, so, don't reuse passwords, and be careful what kind of information you share purposefully or opt in to passively sharing.
Jesus fucking Christ.
484 notes · View notes
borkthemork · 1 year
Text
The thing that fucked me up over this documentary, is just how...this reveal wouldn't have happened if the archivists and the media historians never documented the bumpers.
If the archivists never put the bumpers, their dates, their creations, and documented them online, Kevin wouldn't have anything to go off of. If it weren't for the wayback machine and the media wikipedias (specifically the Audiovisual Identity Database), Kevin wouldn't have found the people involved with Tonal Sound and Elias Associates.
The unsung heroes, who do this all for the sake of documenting and archiving stuff we take for granted, helped give credit to a man who did this just because he loved his work, and it really does encapsulate how important these kinds of jobs are — no matter how “unimportant” they seem.
2K notes · View notes
neil-gaiman · 10 months
Note
Hi Neil!
I am a Masters Research Fellow for the University of Texas at El Paso, and I am currently helping with the Orlando database. This database is meant to be a comprehensive digital humanities project which documents female authors from the British isles or associated with the British isles. My focus is the era of 1968-present. I was wondering if you have any author suggestions we could look into from that time period, especially women of color!
Thanks in advance.
Noelle <3
I'd put in a vote for Josephine Saxton, who is, I'd say, an overlooked and unfairly forgotten writer who is a woman of colour.
Tumblr media
And actually, all of these women are important writers -- L to R Josephine Saxton, Gwyneth Jones and Lisa Tuttle (originally from Texas but UK from the late 70s). Photo circa 1985 at a Forbidden Planet signing.
And thinking of other people you might not run into on regular lists, let me point you at Jane Gaskell and Mary Gentle.
736 notes · View notes
mindblowingscience · 2 months
Text
Scientists have found genetic variations associated with human bisexual behaviour for the first time, and they are linked to risk-taking behaviour and producing more children.  The University of Michigan-led study, which was published on Wednesday (3 January) in Science Advances, analysed data from more than 450,000 people in the UK’s Biobank database of genetic and health information. 
Continue Reading.
183 notes · View notes