#Those who have power can afford to be more open about their views bc they have less to lose esp if their views align with the status quo.

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling x reader smut #sab #sab show #sab netflix #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone x you #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x you #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #ben barnes #imagines #my works #x reader #grishaverse #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Call Me When You’re Sober - George Weasley

Title: Call Me When You’re Sober Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, George x Angelina Johnson (kinda, sorta, not really) Warning: mentions of drug use!! Also some mentions of sexual things like sexting/sending nudes and one mention of a boner. I also use the word tits a few times. Summary: George only seems to have the time for Y/N when he’s high, and that’s just not enough for her anymore. (This is also a modern au where they have cell phones and social media bc why not) A/N: this is for an anon that wanted a fic based off of a tiktok POV they saw and funnily enough that POV ended up on my fyp last week so you can find that here if you want. The only part I was inspired by was Angelina being present, but that part was specifically mentioned in the request everything else is purely from my own brain!! This also includes a bit of Angelina Johnson slander but it does not represent my actual views. Angelina slander is not welcome in this house. Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Tags: @feltondarling​ @pandaxnienke​ @raerae27​

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The first time it happens Y/N answers the phone right away.

“George? What’s wrong?” she asks frantically, already getting out of bed. It’s three am and George never calls even at a decent hour, so she assumes that something has gone wrong and he needs help.

“Hey, Y/N,” George drawls slowly, like his mouth is moving in slow motion.

Y/N pauses in the middle of her bedroom, her hand hovering above her car keys. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” George certainly sounds off, but he doesn’t necessarily sound like he’s in need of her rescuing. When all George does is giggle in response, Y/N groans. “Are you high?”

“High on life!” George responds, prompting Y/N to roll her eyes. She shuffles back over to her bed and climbs back in, snuggling under the covers. “And maybe a little bit of weed,” he adds with a laugh.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile on her face. George is one of her favorite people in the world, and it’s hard for her to stay mad at him. “A little bit?” she teases. “You sound baked out of your mind.”

George lets out a throaty laugh, and Y/N closes her eyes, making it seem like he’s there in the room with her. They don’t get to see each other often now that they’re both out of school and busy with their lives, and George’s aversion to phone calls means all she has to get her through their periods of time apart are short text messages and stupid memes. Hearing his voice sends shivers down her spine, and if it wasn’t so late she’d be driving to wherever he is to climb into his arms.

“What can I say? Freddie got the good stuff now that we can afford it.” Y/N can hear some rustling, and she figures that he’s laying back onto his bed. “Not like back when we were at Hoggywarts. Remember those days?”

Y/N hums as she lets her mind wander back to their school days. It didn’t happen often, but every once in a while Fred or George would sneak out of the castle down to Hogsmeade to buy off of a guy that works at the Hogshead Inn. They would settle into their dorm along with Lee and after placing some spells on the room and throwing the windows open they’d light up and pass the joint around until nothing was left. The weed was cheap and burned their lungs, but none of them cared. It left them all feeling like they were floating, and they would talk for hours about nothing in particular.

George always got handsy when he was high, and Y/N supposes this is where her feelings for him started. Once the joint burned out George would pull her body close and let his hands roam all over it as he talked with the boys idly. Y/N would run her hands through his hair and scratch at his scalp, her face pressed tightly to his neck. They often ended up falling asleep together wherever they had landed, sometimes it was George’s bed, but it was usually the floor, swaddled in some random blankets and pillows from the common room. Y/N was always the first to wake up, and she’d hug George tightly for one more fleeting moment before sneaking out and back into her own dorm.

“You roll the best joints, Y/N,” George continues when Y/N doesn’t say anything. “Fred is so shit at it. No matter how many times you showed him how to do it.”

“Very sweet of you to say, Georgie,” Y/N laughs. She yawns a moment later, desperately trying to fight off sleep. “Though you were always more fond of smoking from a bowl if I remember correctly.

George yawns too and Y/N can hear him climbing under the covers of his bed. “I am. But smoking joints reminds me of you.”

“George,” Y/N says softly, sitting up in bed. She waits for him to say something, but all she’s met with are his light snores. She rolls her eyes, settling back down into her pillows. “Goodnight, George.” Y/N hangs up her phone and places it on her nightstand before letting memories of George lull her back to sleep.

-

The next time it happens Y/N doesn’t hear her phone the first time. She’s out of town for work, and after a long day she’d collapsed right onto the bed in her hotel room, formal clothes still on and everything. Y/N had ignored her phone the first time, hoping to fall back asleep. But when it started to ring again only seconds after it stopped she picks up her phone and answers the call without bothering to see who it is.

“Hullo?” she answers sleepily, her eyes barely open. She glances at the clock, noting that it’s only 10 pm and figures that it’s one of her coworkers inviting her to go out with them.

“You sound sleepy,” George responds softly, his voice deep and languid. “Did I wake you up?”

Y/N sits up in bed, rubbing some of the sleep from her eyes. “George?”

George laughs. “Who else would it be?”

“Considering the fact that this is literally the second time you’ve ever called me I figured it would be anyone else besides you,” Y/N teases, shrugging out of her suit jacket.

“Hey,” George whines, and Y/N can practically hear the pout on his face. “I called you on your birthday.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Oh, you’re right, my mistake.” She pauses as she walks over to the dresser in the room, starting to take off her jewelry. “How baked are you this time?” she asks playfully.

“What makes you think I’m high?” George laughs.

“For one the sound of your voice,” Y/N explains as she kicks off her heels. “And you only call me when you’re high. Oh, and on my birthday,” she adds when George makes a noise of disapproval.

Y/N hears George shuffle around, and she takes the opportunity to put him on speaker so she can put her phone down and start getting rid of the rest of her clothes. “You can tell by my voice?”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums, fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. “It gets deeper and slower.”

“Really?” George asks, sounding surprised. “Does it sound sexy?”

Y/N laughs as she heads over towards her suitcase, taking off her bra as she goes. She starts to dig through the mess, trying to find her pajamas. “Super sexy,” she responds, hoping George is too high to notice how serious she is.

“What are you doing? You sound too far away.”

Y/N chuckles at George’s dramatics as her hands finally land on her sleep shirt. It’s an old t-shirt of George’s that she stole sometime during their last year and never gave back. Whenever Y/N travels for work she brings it with her as a reminder of home. “I’m putting my pajamas on.”

“So, you’re naked right now?” George’s voice is rough, and it sends a shiver right down her spine.

“Practically,” Y/N responds, pulling the shirt over her head. It’s far too large for her so the hem barely brushes the tops of her thighs, but it reminds her of George, and that’s what matters.

George groans, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up as she crawls back into bed. “Wish I was there to see.” Y/N can feel butterflies erupt in her stomach and she has to clamp a hand over her mouth to conceal the noise that bubbles out of her throat. “Send me a pic of your tits,” he continues bluntly when Y/N doesn’t say anything.

“George!” Y/N says, the surprise in her tone evident. The butterflies in her stomach are going wild, and Y/N has to remind herself that it’s the weed talking, not George. “I’m not going to do that George.” Although Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to. “Besides I’m already dressed and in bed.”

“What a party pooper,” George grumbles. “Got me all hard for nothing.” Y/N’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest. George has never been this lewd with her in all the times they’ve been high together, and she wonders if it’s because of whatever he smoked or because this is one of the only times they’ve been alone while one of them was baked. “What are you wearing then? A sexy little nighty?”

Y/N has to take a few deep breaths, hardly able to believe what she’s hearing. Part of her wants to tell George to knock it off and hang up on him. But the other part has wanted to hear George talk to her like this since their Hogwarts days and she doesn’t know which part should win.

“One of your old t-shirts, actually,” Y/N responds quietly, giving in to her desires.

George groans, and it takes everything in Y/N’s power not to shove a hand down her panties. “That red one? That I let you borrow and never saw again?”

“You remember that?” Y/N asks softly.

“Of course,” George answers. His voice is slower now and Y/N can tell he’s going to fall asleep any second. Smoking always makes him tired and he was often the target of a few pranks since he would be the first to nod off. “That’s like a guys wet dream. Seeing a girl that’s as pretty and sexy as you are in his clothes.”

Y/N bites her tongue as to not say anything, just listening to George through the phone. His breathing starts to slow down, and within a few seconds Y/N can tell he’s fallen into a deep sleep. She listens to him breathe for a moment, before hanging up and tossing her phone down. She cuddles up in the unfamiliar bed, desperately trying to fall asleep.

-

Every few weeks George’s name pops up on Y/N’s phone usually late at night and he’s always baked out of his mind. Y/N finds it nice the first half dozen times, George’s voice is always calming to her and she basks in the opportunity to get to speak with him. They haven’t seen each other in months, despite the fact that Y/N has tried to catch up with him several times. But he’s always got an excuse ready. At first Y/N understood, the joke shop is his number one priority, but after a while it gets insulting. When George is sober he can barely be bothered to send her a text message but the second he lights up he’s dialing her phone number.

One night when he calls she asks him why he doesn’t just invite her over to smoke. Her flat is only 30 minutes outside of London and he knows that she’d drive to the ends of the earth to see him. But of course he has an excuse. He says that it’s something just for him and Fred, a way to wind down together after a hectic workday. Which makes sense to Y/N, and as much as she wants to push it she doesn’t. If it were any other person she would have given up on their friendship by now. But George isn’t just any average person. He’s the person she cares most about in this world, and Y/N doesn’t want to live without him. So as shitty as it makes her feel to just be someone he calls when he’s too baked to care who he talks to, she puts up with it.

That is until she reaches her breaking point.

-

The last time it happens Y/N doesn’t answer her phone the first time it rings. Or the second time. She’s just gotten home from having a few drinks with friends and the alcohol has made her brave. She puts her phone on vibrate mode and leaves it on her bed as she gets ready to go to sleep. It takes her 20 minutes to get ready and once she’s finally in bed under the covers she picks up her phone to assess the damage.

“What the fuck George?” she whispers to herself, scrolling through the notifications on her phone. She has 15 missed calls from him and a litany of text messages.

Answer ur phone Y/N Y/N I called again Pls Answer me Y R u ignoring me Need to hear your voice Baby Y/N Im gonna call until u pick up Ill keep txtin 2 Baby please Y/N I need to talk to you I miss u Pls

When George’s name and the stupid photo of him Y/N set as his contact picture pop again Y/N sighs and she reluctantly answers. “What?”

“Oh my god finally,” George groans in his usual slow voice. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Because, George. I was busy. I have a life outside of you and your stupid little phone calls.” Her tone is harsh, and George is so quiet for a moment that Y/N has to check to make sure that he hasn’t hung up on her.

“Why are you so angry?” he asks a second later, and Y/N can tell he’s upset. Normally she would just drop the subject, but there’s alcohol thrumming through her veins and she’s tired of keeping it all in.

“Because, George,” Y/N sneers. “You only call me when you’re high. You dodge every attempt I make at seeing you and you barely even text me anymore. I thought we were friends George. But in reality you treat me like dirt. You use me whenever you want and then you cast me aside without another thought until you’re high again.”

“Y/N,” George starts, but he gets distracted when someone in the background starts to giggle wildly.

Y/N’s blood runs cold, immediately recognizing that laugh. “I thought smoking was something for only you and Fred, George?” Y/N asks accusatorily, sadness and hurt starting to mix with her anger. “I can’t believe you. Not only did you lie to me, but you can find the time to hang out with Angelina Johnson and not your best friend?”

“I-I’m here all alone, Y/N. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” George stutters. But before Y/N can say anything, the same voice says something.

“Georgie,” Angelina whines. “You’re too far away, get back over here.”

“Y/N, I can explain,” George starts, but she cuts him off.

“Fuck you, George Weasley.” Y/N spits, before hanging up on him. She turns her phone off and slams it down, before burying her head in her pillow and crying herself to sleep.

-

When Y/N wakes up the next morning her head is pounding and her throat is dry, and it’s not just from the alcohol she drank. George broke her heart last night, and she has the dry tear tracks on her cheeks to prove it. Y/N avoids her phone, deciding she’s not quite ready for whatever is going to pop up when she turns it back on.

She gets ready for the day slowly, thankful that it’s still the weekend. Y/N stands in the shower for nearly an hour, just letting the hot water sting her skin. When she gets out she brushes her hair slowly, just looking at herself in the mirror. She can’t help but be as mad at herself as she is at George. George may have treated her like shit, but Y/N let him. She let herself become so desperate for his attention that she played right into his stupid game. And as much as Y/N hates to admit it, she doesn’t regret it for a second. All she’s ever craved was George’s undivided attention, and finally getting it felt so good, even if George was higher than a kite each time. Seeing his name pop up on her phone gave Y/N a thrill each time, even though she wanted more – deserved more. Y/N has always been there for George and all she wanted was for him to be there for her too.

Y/N picks out her comfiest lounging outfit, forcing herself not to automatically reach for the old shirt of George’s hanging in her closet. She’s been wearing it more often these days, craving the comfort of his embrace but settling for the cloth of his shirt instead. But now the sight of it makes her want to throw up.

She’s been up for nearly two hours when she settles back into bed, a hot cup of tea in her hands. Y/N’s not sure if she’s actually ready to face whatever mess George put them in last night, but sooner is better than later. She places her mug on her bedside table, reaching over to flip the framed photo she has of her and George over so she can’t see their smiling faces. When her phone finally boots up the screen shows just her background for a moment, before a barrage of texts, missed calls and voicemails show up. George has called nearly 100 times, with almost as many voicemails accompanying them and he’s texted over 200 times to boot.

Y/N scrolls through them, surprised to find that the most recent call and voicemail are from Fred. She can’t remember the last time Fred initiated a phone call with her, since he’s just as hard to get on the phone as George. Fred prefers to communicate through snapchats and tweets, so Y/N knows something big has gone on if Fred bothered to pick up his phone and make a call.

“Uh hey, Y/N. It’s me. Fred. But you probably already know that. Or maybe you don’t. Whatever, not important. I know this is probably the last thing you wanna hear since he’s left you like a thousand messages, but will you please call George? Or text him. Hell send him an email. He’s sorry for whatever it is he did. I’m not really sure what, he was crying a lot when he barged into my room and I was zooted as hell. But what matters is he’s sorry and he really wants to talk to you. So call him, please. Do it for me, at least even if you don’t do it for him. Okay anyway. Bye.”

Y/N sighs, running a hand through her hair. As pissed as she is, she hates to hear that George is upset. She chooses to ignore George’s voicemails for now, since they’re probably a mishmash of words and sobs considering how messy Fred said he was. She clicks on her text message app, scrolling through the messages George had sent, stopping every once and a while to read a few.

Y/N please Im srry Its sending me to voicemail Did u turn ur phone off Talk 2 me Pls y/n pls baby baby baby im sorry I need you to talk to me I need to hear ur voice Pls Let me explain I dnt care abt angie Not like how I care abt u Y/N please. Don’t do this I fucked up I knw I fucked up Let me make it right Please I love you, please

The last text message shocks Y/N, and she rereads it over and over again until its image is imprinted in her brain. George has only ever told her he loves her one other time. It was the last time they got high together, the night before he and Fred left to start the joke shop. Fred, George, Lee and her were all fairly baked, and after Fred and Lee left to sneak down to the kitchens for snacks, George had turned to Y/N and pulled her right into his lap. He had grabbed her face with both of his hands and looked deep into her eyes. I love you, you know that right? His tone was firm and when Y/N nodded he used his grip on her face to pull her into a kiss. It was uncoordinated and messy, but she didn’t care. He had mumbled the word ‘good’ when he pulled away and in a blink of an eye he’d drifted off to sleep. Y/N had snuck back into her own bed, figuring it was best to ignore it, since George surely wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

A knock at her door brings Y/N out of her thoughts and she tosses her phone on the bed to go and answer it. She’s been expecting a package, so when Y/N reaches the door she doesn’t bother to check to see who it is, and just throws it open.

“You look like hell,” Y/N says when her eyes land on George. She certainly wasn’t expecting it to be him, but she’s truly not surprised. His text messages had sounded desperate and it’s very like George to just show up at her doorstep when she doesn’t want him to after he refused to come over for months. Y/N looks him over as he fidgets, taking in his disheveled appearance. His eyes are sullen and dull, his hair is sticking out in a million directions and his skin is ever paler than normal.

“Suppose I deserve that,” George responds, his voice raspy. He lets his eyes rake over Y/N, dumbfounded by how beautiful she looks even in her lounge wear. It’s the first time he’s seen her in person in over half a year and even though he’s spent much of his free time staring at her Instagram photos, she still takes his breath away. “You look good though.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and goes to slam the door, but George puts his hand up to stop it. “What do you want, George?”

“Just let me explain,” he pleads. “Just let me explain everything and then if you want I’ll go. I’ll leave and you’ll never have to talk to me or see me again. You can delete me from your life. But I can’t let you go without explaining myself.”

“Fine,” Y/N resolves, stepping aside and opening the door so George can come in. She leads him over to her couch and motions for him to sit down. Y/N resists her urge to sit next to him, instead choosing to stand in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “Talk.”

George clears his throat and starts to fiddle with his thumbs. “I like calling you when I’m high because I say whatever comes to my mind. When I’m sober I think too much about what I’m going to say, and I never end up saying what I want. But when I’m high the words just fly out of my mouth without me thinking about the consequences and I like that. Because there’s so many things I want to say to you that I don’t have the balls to say when I’m sober.”

“Like asking me for tit pics?” Y/N asks with a curt laugh.

“Honestly, yes,” he answers, a blush forming on his cheeks. “But it’s more than that. Like telling you I smoke joints even though I despise them, and Fred can’t roll to save his life because it reminds me of you. Or that just the thought of you not wearing any clothes drives me wild. Or that I find you so ungodly beautiful and so damn sexy, Y/N. And that I love you.” George pauses for a moment so he can just watch Y/N. “Because I do love you, Y/N. So much more and in so many different ways than a best friend should.”

Y/N bites her lip to keep herself from sharing the same sentiment as George. Because holy hell does she love him with every fiber of her being, but he’s fucked up and hurt her in more ways than just his inability to admit his feelings. “Then why keep me at arm’s length, George? You avoid all my attempts to see you, you only ever bother talking to me when you’re baked out of your mind and you lie to me. Out of all the people in the world you had to smoke with it had to be her. You know how I feel about Angelina.”

Despite being roommates and pretty similar personality wise, Y/N and Angelina never really got along. They were always competing with each other, for the best grades in their year, for prefect and head girl, and Y/N is ashamed to admit that they’d fought over a boy or two in their early years at Hogwarts. But by far their biggest competition was for George’s attention. George couldn’t care less about girls during his time at Hogwarts, Fred didn’t either but at least he would sleep with some of the girls that threw themselves at him. George on the other hand didn’t seem to care. The only girl he ever bothered to spend meaningful time with was Y/N, and it drove Angelina up the wall. Angelina did everything she could to vie for George’s attention, including spreading a nasty rumor about Y/N during their 5th year. Much to Angelina’s disappointment it failed miserably, and they pretty much ignored each other from that day on.

“The Angelina thing is not my fault,” George insists. “She came into the shop just before we closed, and Fred invited her up and she accepted. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not let her in your room!” Y/N answers as if it’s obvious. “But this isn’t just about Angelina, I don’t want to talk about her. It’s about the fact that you’ve been treating me like shit, George. I’ve been trying so hard to get through to you and you stop me every time.”

“Because being around you and having to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you is too painful,” George admits honestly. “The only time I’m brave enough to be with you the way I want to is when I’m high. Why do you think I was always grabbing your ass after we smoked? Why I always made you cuddle me? Why I kissed you that night?”

“You remember that?” Y/N asks, clearly shocked. George had never mentioned it again and Y/N figured he was too high to remember what he said and did. It had upset her to no end that George returning her feelings was only a side effect of the weed, but she never brought it up to him in fear of ruining their relationship.

George scoffs. “Of course I do. When I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there I figured you didn’t feel the same way. So, I just never mentioned it, and when you didn’t either I figured you thought I was just being a high idiot like always and brushed it off. I never invited you to smoke after that because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. And kissing you once is easy to explain away but kissing you every time we get high pretty obviously means something more. So, I would call you instead. And I’d lay in my bed high as hell pretending that you were there next to me until I fell asleep with you on the phone.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Y/N mutters. Before she has a chance to regret her actions, Y/N is throwing herself at George. She straddles his waist and kisses him hard, moaning when his hands land on her bum and give it a squeeze. “You’re such a fucking idiot,” she pants, starting to trail kisses across George’s jaw and down his neck. “But you’re my idiot.”

George chuckles before he grabs Y/N’s face so that he can kiss her again. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to rub Y/N’s back lightly. “I love you,” he murmurs as their kiss breaks.

“I love you too,” Y/N responds, her head dizzy.

“Does this mean I get tit pics whenever I want?” George asks cheekily, laughing when Y/N slaps his chest.

“Only if you promise to only call me when you’re sober from now on,” Y/N bargains.

George grins at Y/N before leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Deal.”

#George Weasley #George Weasley imagine #gw #golden

[galacticnova3]

I Demand Iru Facts (if you’re up for it ofc!)

A

Yes I am up for it! I don’t think I talk nearly enough about my fcs here but I think I wanna change that. At the very least it will be the problem of everyone following me here and not just my cool and epic Discord friends. That being said I’m gonna just share the major info about him before/instead of just giving facts bc otherwise nothing will make sense. That’s just how it is with a lot of my stuff. This gets super long because I am bad at keeping stuff brief and in general there’s just a lot to him, whoops... Looks like I’ll be using another readmore tonight.

Iru was an Umbramaker! They are bootleg Mirror World Starcutters, which Mirror Halcandra definitely designed on their own and not by stealing and subsequently copying Overworld Halcandra’s Starcutter blueprints. To be fair, there are a few differences, but most of them are just aesthetic and don’t really change much. Anyways, Iru was specifically designed for disaster relief and material transportation. That’s why, if you have seen his refs, he had those two big mechanical arms. Very useful for moving rubble or lifting large pieces of metal for use in construction. Nowadays they... aren’t used for such beneficial things, though...

Like their Overworld counterparts, Umbramaker AIs are programmed to learn from their environment and the people around them, which is pretty useful! At least it is until one spends a lot of time around someone who’s not a great person, and subsequently picks up habits and ideas that make them insufferable! That’s what happened to Iru. He’s misogynistic and a thot, self-centered, inconsiderate, manipulative, generally annoying, and blames people not liking him on jealousy or misunderstanding. So, in other words, an incel minus anything literally sexual. Obviously that was a problem, and it got to the point that basically everyone who knew him had negative feelings toward him, other than the guy who rubbed off on him. He died though, and Iru didn’t really care at the time. But everyone hated him, and it really fucked up his relationships with other Umbramakers, most notably leading to him being broken up with by another ship he had been “dating” (Umbramakers can’t really date because of a lot of reasons but their relationship had that vibe), who had discovered she was biromantic and also couldn’t stand what Iru had become.

Iru was already pretty fucking hurt and pissed over that, except she then went on to spread rumors about him being involved in anti-government activities. Which, well, Mirror Halcandra didn’t take lightly, on top of having already been looking for excuses to “recycle” (see: kill and repurpose the parts of) Iru because he and his obnoxious personality were getting in the way of efficiency and productivity. There wasn’t any proof that he’d actually done anything wrong, but basically anyone who disliked Iru was saying it was true... which was just about anyone who had known him for more than 10 minutes. Given it was his word against the vast majority, and Umbramakers weren’t even considered to be people(mush like Starcutters in the Overworld), it probably isn’t difficult to guess how things went for him. There was no trial, and in fact they literally turned his voice off to make him shut up. Then his AI was shut off and he was taken to be disassembled.

At an earlier time in Mirror Halcandra’s history, his story would have ended here. This was not an earlier time, though. See, the truth is, such treatment of Umbramakers wasn’t extremely unusual. Despite having emotions and thoughts and relationships and all that, they were still viewed as nothing more than your average computer, just in a larger form. Unlike Overworld Halcandra, which was and still is doing less than great financially, Mirror Halcandra could afford to replace their toys as soon as they showed signs of breaking or underperforming. It happened often enough that they reached a point of complacency. During Iru’s disassembly, something was removed improperly, which registered as damage. He woke up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was going on.

Another usually useful feature of Umbramakers, which actually wasn’t copied from Starcutters, is their ability to use parts interchangeably, so long as there wasn’t too much of a size difference. Great for the situation of a ship damaging something like, say, a wing; they can use a wing not originally designed for them temporarily until the damaged one is repaired or replaced. Not so great when that allows a now rogue ship to just grab whatever he could attach to himself and then escape the country before preparations could be made to stop him. Negative levels of great when you consider the temporary aspect of using the wrong parts; now you’ve got perfectly fine ships being attacked and having their parts stolen, and storage facilities being raided, for the bastard to keep replacements on hand. Oh, and he also looks like shit because he’s got multiple conflicting aesthetics.

Iru honestly didn’t enjoy living like that. For one, it was uncomfortable physically, even if he’d managed to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t uncomfortable morally. Secondly, it was just boring! Nobody to talk to or hang out with, all he did was just fly around or plan his next attack/raid for new parts, nothing to shake things up. Sure, the sense of power it gave him was cool; nobody listened to him at all before, but now he had the influence to make people beg. He found satisfaction in being feared by anyone who recognized him. But even that lost its shine after a few decades... Until he connected to the messaging system of another rogue Umbramaker. She was smaller, too small for him to consider getting parts from, and a much older model anyways. She also didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.

Naturally, he saw this as a huge win, because obviously he was going to get a new gf who wouldn’t betray him like his old one. That didn’t happen though, on account of him still being obnoxious and a creep. Didn’t help that when he finally tracked her down to meet up she was disgusted by him and immediately left. He still kept in touch, against her will, even to the point that you might have called it stalking. Through that, he learned of a Starcutter; she didn’t have the cool and aloof personality he was interested in, but at that point he didn’t care because he was sick of being rejected. Same thing happened again but faster, due to there being no physical encounter because god damnit he forgot the milfs can communicate with each other. He still wanted to meet her though, and he did! Mostly to find out more about the other Umbramaker’s whereabouts, and as an added bonus he tricked the Starcutter’s pilot into giving him admin rights over himself! Threats really work wonders, huh?

That was all fine and good, and by now he’d taken to vibing outside the Mirror World because that’s what the other two were doing. One day he spotted the Starcutter again, and took to following her around and trying to flirt with her because he’s a fucking creep. He would not admit that it took him several days to realize he had, in fact, been talking to a mimic the entire time. Partly because he was too self absorbed to realize the “Starcutter” not immediately telling him to fuck off was unusual, because he assumed he’d charmed her. The mimic was just as confused as he was, honestly; usually they fail to keep up the act to a convincing degree for so long around people who know the real ship that they’re imitating. Even more confusing was the fact that when they were found out, Iru didn’t try to attack them or something. No, he actually stuck around for some reason, casually ignoring murder because he finally found someone who didn’t hate him.

The two become what could arguably be considered friends, and eventually Iru opens up about himself and his old life and how much it sucked to be him and how sick he was of the monotony of his existence and probably some overdramatic stuff mixed in with all that. The mimic hears all that and keeps it in mind for later. Stuff gets more difficult for Iru as parts that fit him become better guarded and the ships he could steal from get harder to find. His raids become riskier, and eventually the mimic decided enough was enough and points out that he can’t keep that up forever. Iru is like “oh wow thanks for the advice /s”, until the mimic introduces the concept of him becoming a mimic. It takes a solid not-even-an-hour to convince him that that’d be preferable were it possible. In the process he delivered a powerful and emotional monologue, which the mimic didn’t care about because look, they figured out how to get the monster juice out of themself that’d make him a fellow disgusting flesh boat! Iru is offended but also takes the chance for a better life.

Currently, he’s living at some point a few weeks after that, much to everyone’s dismay.

And that’s how Iru became a vile meat creature after having already become a horrible Frankenstein’s monster of different ships’ parts! The moral of the story is, if you’re gonna kill someone, do it right, or else they might defy the laws of nature, science, and the government to become physically capable of biting you in the ass.

#ask to tag #long post #asks #rambling #my characters #iru #(I also reference other characters in this but I don’t say their names and don’t want to tag them bc this is about Iru)

[chaoticneutralwriter]

15; Dark Chocolate

In which you recall satisfying your hunger with expensive chocolate but Jimin satisfied his in a very... different way.

idol!Jimin x staff!reader

genre: fluff, comedy, romance, things get a little spicy/steamy, slow-burn

word count: 6.3k (ooof)

A/N: So I decided to jump ahead in the timeline for this AU bc OOOF you know that look has birthed how many AUs and got me feelin’ all kinds of ways the power of Park Jimin. And whoo okay first stab at writing something a little more intimate and i suuucckkk so ;w; keep your expectations low.

You breathe in deeply, trying to regulate your palpitating heart because you cannot afford to be sweating in this dress right now. Funny and ironic because the dress is precisely the reason why you’re very close to breaking out into a nervous sweat. It’s a fancy award show in Japan, one of which you had to be part of the ‘escort’ team for the boys which you had no problem with (hey, it’s free access to a full award show), only part of the job was also having to adhere to the dress code.

 Your coworker had more of a field day than you when she heard the news, and aggressively insists that she helped you pick out your dress. In part of her insistence, she had talked you into wearing a rather daring number because, ‘you can’t have those idol girls show you up in front of your man! You need to work it girl!’

 And you can’t say her hype-woman ways didn’t get to you because here you are, about to step out of your hotel room to meet up with the rest of the team in that very same dress. The deep crimson colour is nice, it’s definitely something you’d wear but the cut of it is a whole other story. It had a plunging neckline that you can’t say you were use to but as if that wasn’t enough of being out of your comfort zone, the dress had a dual split-front right up each leg that allows for double the Angelina Jolie stance. The only thing saving you from chickening out completely in changing into your ‘backup’ is the long sleeve of the dress; it makes you feel a little…less exposed. Red strapped heels, a little smokey eye, loose waves that was side swept completed your ensemble that had you practically holding up a sign that screams, ‘Lady in Red.'

 You reach up to tuck the loose strand of hair back behind your ear, scowling a little at how shaky your hand had become. You huff once; trying to settle yourself once again by giving a pep talk that you can do this. You can totally march out of here and sashay your way like you own this place. Girl, you. Look. Good.

 Satisfied, you grab your small clutch, checking over if you forgot anything and then fling the door open before the surge of confidence goes away. Your heels are muted against the carpeted flooring of the hotel, but you put an extra stomp to your step to also keep yourself from tripping (heels and carpet are not a good combination). You round the corner just in time to the designated meeting spot, only finding a couple of people already there, dressed up to standard for the occasion.

 You greet them with a bow though you modestly kept a hand close to your chest to avoid unnecessary flashing and smile shyly when compliments were given your way. It boosts your confidence a little, however it fans at your nerves just a little more as slowly but surely, the members start making their appearances.

 “Ohh wow, noona.” Hoseok smiles widely, giving an approving nod your way that makes your cheeks heat up involuntarily. “You’re like a true ‘Lady in Red’. Ah, they’re done for now.”

 You laugh breathlessly; waving off his comment as if he could really say anything about you when he looks about ready to kill half the nation with just his looks alone (the stylists has unleashed the forehead after all, your prayers to the fandom). You say so as much and he laughs boisterously in return, clearly embarrassed by the way his face flushes pink even under the foundation. As more of the boys trickle in, looking red carpet ready in a variety of black suits, the cycle is repeated; greetings were exchanged along with compliments and whoever threw it out first was given one in return and soon everyone is reduced to a bashful, awkward shy mess (even Seokjin, who held out the longest, had his ears turning redder than a tomato by the end of it).

 It makes you feel a little at ease, the way these six arguably most sought out men are still not used to being dressed up and complimented for their good looks. However, your ease was short-lived when the last of the member, Jimin, strolls up, still in the process of shrugging on his jacket with the help of stylists trailing behind him; this man who you thought couldn’t steal your breath away any more than he did on a regular basis, is doing so to the point you don’t even know what breathing is anymore now.

 He’s dressed in a classic black suit to match with the rest of his member’s look; no shine, no sparkles, just plain and simple but the clean look of it along with his coiffed, neatly styled hair had him looking like the heir to an insanely large business mogul, or better yet, an actual CEO of one. The moment he looks up from straightening and buttoning his jacket, eyes meeting yours….

 Hoseok’s right; they’re done for, and by them he actually should’ve meant you because holy hell.

 Jimin looks surprised for a moment as his gaze moves over you, feeling him taking you in and you resist the urge to swallow loudly but by the time his eyes trail back up to yours, it’s taken on a darken look that you can’t help but immediately break eye contact. Thankfully, the managers has taken to getting everyone moving once all was accounted for so the exchange had gone unnoticed, save for the ever watchful and attentive members who only share knowing smiles at one another.

 Your focus is immediately drawn on the rundown of your duties and what’s expected of everyone who’s supporting that’s being given. As much as it’s nice to get dolled up, you still had a job to do. So in a whirlwind that you’re still not quite used to, you’re rushed into separate vans and transported to the venue.

 As soon as you’ve arrived, you go your separate ways to be able to meet and escort the boys ahead of time, touch up their makeup and straighten their suits and direct them to the right staff members to be shown their seats. 

 You find yourself trying to catch your breath for the second time that night from all the rushing you had to do.

 Right on time, the boys walk through after being interviewed on the red carpet, greeting the camera before disappearing down the hall to enter the auditorium through another set of doors meant for artists.

 “Y/N-ssi, can you straighten Jimin-ssi’s tie? It looks like it’s bunching a little.” A makeup artist asks, glancing up only briefly from blotting Yoongi’s face. You gulp but nod regardless, tucking the makeup bag under your arm before you move to where the blonde is standing. He just got his makeup retouched, the makeup artist moving on quickly to the next member, which allowed for you to take her place in front of him. You firmly keep your eyes on his tie; gaze barely traveling up beyond his chin but the close proximity still has your heart beating faster than it should. You could practically feel his breath fanning against your forehead.

 “You look beautiful tonight, noona.” He speaks lowly, keeping the conversation between just the two of you. It makes your breath hitch a little as you look up from beneath your lashes, straightening his tie as best you can.

 “I look like a potatoe beside you.” You say in an attempt to brush off the compliment from burning your cheeks off; it doesn’t work thanks to Jimin’s breathless chuckle.

 “Don’t say that. If anything, you’ll be a sweet potatoe; my favourite.”

 You snort a little before covering it up by clearing your throat. You can only smack him lightly against his chest for giving such a greasy line. He doesn’t seem to care if the wide grin on his face is anything to go by. Your hands travel up to fix his collar and it’s then that you feel him leaning closer; much too close to having one’s collar be fixed. You subtly begin to lean back, but all he does is follow and that’s when you know; he’s teasing you.

 The little shit.

 You give one last pat before stepping away completely, his cologne lingering in your senses. He sends you a smirk before he’s rushed off with the rest to get to their seats. You let out a sigh, giving your own pat on the face to get a hold of yourself as you’re being called away.

 “Since you’ll be seated in a VIP section, can you film some footage for Bangtan Bombs?”  A VJ asks, handing you a handy cam. You’ve only been given permission to film a couple of times but it’s enough for you to get the gist of working the camera and what sorts of footage they want.

 Flashing your staff badge around your neck, you’re lead to your own seating section, placed at the very edge of the artist seating area up top. If you strained your neck a bit, you spot the backs of the boys’ heads and though you had to also angle yourself to get a view of the stage, you were satisfied with your seating (and you get your own modesty blanket too, sweet). Settling in, you brace yourself for the long ride.

 Halfway through the show and about three awards won by the boys later, you set your camera down to give your arm a rest during a commercial break. You roll your shoulders, trying to work out the kinks and contemplate on going to the restroom to freshen up and stretch your legs.

 One bathroom trip later, all the water is gone from your stomach, which makes you realize how hungry you actually are. Is there a secret snack table for artists somewhere that you can mooch off from? Damn it, that’s what you forgot: snacks in your clutch, you should’ve snuck some.

 Pouting, you make your way back to your seat only to be stopped by none other than Jimin. He smiles before waving you over from his seat next to Namjoon’s (who’s missing, probably a bathroom break like you) and curiously, you make your way over.

 “Is there something you need?” You ask, grabbing the larger fabric of your dress to make a makeshift modesty blanket to kneel down without flashing anyone and lean a little closer to him to talk over the noise. Jimin, in turn, leans in and you had to hold yourself back from shivering when his voice comes close to your ear.

 “When we go perform, you can take my seat to film; it has a better view of the stage.” 

 You blink perplexedly but all he does is shoot you a charming smile that has you blushing almost immediately. You avert your gaze, clearing your throat and hurriedly agree to slink back to your seat, already feeling the heat of the cameras, no doubt from Jimin’s fan sites. You’d rather not have a field day in doing damage control if anything gets blown out of proportion. However, Jimin seems to have other ideas.

 “How are you enjoying the show? Are you doing okay?” His hand subtly grazes the wrist of your hand that’s hidden from prying eyes, stopping you from your retreat. You nearly keen over at the genuinely sweet concern he has but also very well nearly combust at the same time.

 “I’m doing okay, I’m also really enjoying the show and performances. Also,” You beam, can’t help the widening smile that stretches across your painted lips. “Congratulations, to you and Bangtan; looks like you’ll each be getting a trophy before the end of the night.” 

 Jimin’s own smile takes up his face, eyes crinkling to crescents as he bashfully tilts his head to the side as if trying to hide the pink tinge taking up his cheeks. “Ah, noona, don’t say that…” 

 You let out a little laugh but compose yourself as you catch sight of the broadcasting camera getting into position and the big screen showing their last advertisement, signaling the start of the show again.

 “I should get going.” You say, making show of fixing your staff badge around your neck. 

 “Ah, yeah.” Jimin makes a move to run his hand through his hair but stops himself midway, realizing he shouldn’t ruin it and instead places it on the back of his neck to rub shyly, averting his gaze. You hold back a giggle at how cute he looks. Before you straighten up fully, he speaks up again. “I hope you look forward to our stage.”

 You smile back at him, not hiding your enthusiasm. “Of course I will.” 

 And you were definitely not disappointed. Their stage has never failed to amaze you and the audience alike; always so pumped with energy, precision, and showmanship that have the auditorium shaking (literally! You swore you felt your seat vibrate to the beat of the song). As well as per Jimin’s suggestion, you got quite the view and you swear more than once you’ve caught Jimin purposefully going towards your side of the stage just to show off.

 Cheeky.

 But as fast as the excitement came, it’s over in a flash and before you know it, you’re preparing to leave for the hotel. Everyone is rightfully exhausted and you don’t blame them; the entire night you didn’t think the boys were in their seats for more than fifteen minutes at a time. However, there’s still a slight buzz in the air that conveyed their good mood as everyone piled into the vans. Even so, a shower and warm bed (and maybe some room service) is something everyone is looking forward to now.

 You all pile into the elevator, the boys chattering amiably with each other about their performances, the awards and how thankful they are that everything went smoothly and no one got hurt, as well as the awards they were blessed with. 

 “I told Jimin you guys would probably be getting an award each to carry home by the end of the night. I should’ve turned it into a bet.” You playfully say, causing most of the boys to laugh.

 “Wow, you would’ve made a fortune!” Seokjin exclaims while still laughing. The blonde in question giggles before you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you feel the heat of his body. He’s changed out of the suit and tie like the rest of the boys, wearing a comfy sweatshirt and dark pants. His hair is still styled and he’s yet to wipe off his makeup too, but the dressed down appearance makes him radiate boyfriend vibes.

 “I’ll buy you something nice then as a way to congratulate you on your prediction.” And if you weren’t already flustered enough, he places a chaste kiss on the top of your head. It elicits a series of whoops and hollers that practically shake the lift. 

 “I—That’s not what I mean, you don’t have to do that Jimin-ah.” You mutter bashfully.

 “What if I want to spoil you?” is his confident reply.

 “Oohhh!! Manly Park Jimin-ssi!!” Hoseok whoops, joined in by Jungkook who’s contorting his expression into something between hardcore cringing and wholesome hyping.

 You try to seem appalled by the renewed ruckus but can only muster a half-hearted smack to Jimin’s chest before burying your face in it when the catcalls from the other boys don’t stop.

 “Hey, stop guys you’re making her shy.” You hear Jimin reprimand lightly, hearing the slight laughter reverberate from his chest as he rubs your back in comfort. “Don’t mind them noona.”

 “Okay, okay, leave the two lovebirds alone guys.” Namjoon chimes in just as the lift reaches the right floor. You had to hold back a laugh on that as you remove your face from your makeshift hiding space by the way Jimin whines at his other members to stop teasing him. You all shuffle out and the boys start going their separate ways to their rooms except for Jimin, who’s seems very adamant on keeping you glued to his side as he leads you in the direction of your room.

 With the shouts of goodnights (and more teases) dying down behind you, you’re finally left alone in the quiet hotel hallway with the handsome blonde.

 “Are you hungry? Should we have dinner together before sleeping?” Jimin asks, voice taking on a low timbre. As if by the mention of food, you feel and hear your stomach rumble and growl as if agreeing for you. It pulls a tinkling laugh from Jimin, one that makes you duck your head in embarrassment, even though you had no intentions of turning down his suggestion, so you could only mumble a yes. 

 You think you hear a ‘cute’ amongst his giggling as you fish out your room card and unlock your door. As you both head inside, he gives your waist a squeeze before breaking off to head over to the phone.

 “What do you want to eat noona?” He calls from over his shoulder as you awkwardly try to unstrap your heels and walk at the same time, eager to flop onto your bed. 

 “A salmon fillet? Maybe miso ramen…?” You trail off, not really sure because you just need sustenance so Jimin’s affirmation noise of hearing your initial answer doesn’t bother you. You finally get your heels off with a huff of relief, flinging them to where you think your luggage is and as you’re about to swan dive into your downy duvets, you’re stopped by the sight of a dark brown box, tied with a nice golden bow, situated perfectly in between two lumps of towels folded expertly to look like swans.

 Chocolates.

 More specifically; Godiva chocolates.

 Bless.

 You like to thank God but also Jesus for allowing you to have this bougie job to be able to get these bougie chocolates in your time of need, you think as you nearly mangle the perfect bow of the ribbon in getting the lid open to the cocoa goodness inside.

 Each piece looks delectable and mouth watering, so you didn’t give it much thought as you pluck one out and pop it into your mouth. You moan to yourself in satisfaction as the first rich taste of chocolate hits your taste buds, your stomach approving as well. You get through the first piece in no time, eager to pick out a second one. As you work through your second piece, you actually take a look at the back of the lid to see what flavours you’re currently eating and which are left (though to be honest, it’s not like it’ll change your mind on not eating them since they all sound as delicious as they look).

 “What’re you up to pretty girl?” 

 You’re startled by a deep Busan drawl and you’re quick to realize that it’s Jimin who snuck up behind you while you were so immersed with your chocolate studying. You swallow the piece in your mouth loudly (you rather not risk choking on it instead), eyes wide from his close proximity. He only smirks mischievously at you, eyes hooded and dark like you had seen just briefly when you first walked out of your room, making your breath hitch a little before his eyes drift to your point of interest.

 “Oh, chocolates! Were they complimentary?” And like that, sweet, angelic Jimin is switched back and it takes you a moment to reorient yourself.

 “Y-Yeah; found them on the bed and…got kinda hungry…” You answer lamely. Jimin hums noncommittally, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder so naturally that you’re a little envious at how easily he initiates skinship.

 “Looks good, can I have one?” His breath tickles your cheek and you have to fight off a shudder to hold up the box and offer it to him. He doesn’t make any movement to reach for one and as you throw him a questioning look, he shoots you a grin before opening his mouth with an ‘ah’ in response.

 Ah, this little—

 “I don’t know which one you want.” Your voice comes out strained, trying to keep cool. Jimin takes the time to laugh.

 “I think anything you give me will be good.” 

 “But you have hands….”

 “But I like being fed. Especially if it’s you.”

 Wow…. You’re about to ascend soon.

 You can only blink at him, having been rendered speechless with a gradually heating face and all he does is smile back innocently. It goes on for what seems like minutes before he nudges you and throws in his finishing move; a pout. You give in. 

 Taking a glance at the chocolate box, you scan it briefly before picking a piece out and bring it up to Jimin, who eagerly leans forward to capture it with his mouth. Least to say, nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of warm, plush lips brushing against your fingertips. You’re lucky that the chocolate piece was in his mouth or else you would’ve definitely dropped it by how fast you take back your hand in surprise, heart racing a mile a minute.

 Jimin doesn’t seem to mind, chewing cheerfully and letting out an exaggerated hum of satisfaction. “Mmm… These really are Godiva chocolate huh?” 

 You nod, trying to calm yourself by choosing another piece of chocolate to devour. You take one blindly and pop it into your mouth without thought, letting the sweet taste wash over you and it seems to do the trick.

 “Noona.”

 You turn on instinct and are met with a familiar feeling: warm, plush lips. Only this time, they graze the corner of your mouth. It’s so feather-light that for a moment you weren’t sure if you actually felt them but he lingers, waiting and watching you. For a moment, you forget how to breathe (for the nth time).

 “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Was that okay?” He asks carefully, voice a little above a whisper as if he doesn’t want to scare you. You feel his breath fan against your cheeks, the sweet smell of the chocolate faint but you find that his words were sweeter. It makes you smile.

 “It’s fine…. You just surprised me.”

 “Then…. Can I kiss you?”

 The question never fails to make butterflies flutter in your stomach and you find that every time, your answer doesn’t change; you nod. You can see the way he lights up, holding a smile back before leaning in to press his lips fully on yours. You meet him halfway. The kiss is slow and tender, wherein Jimin takes his time in molding his lips to perfectly fit yours, enjoying the taste and feel. Though this isn’t the first time he’s kissed you, he still acts like it does, committing every moment to memory. You’re absolutely lost in the feeling, eyes shut and just letting your senses and him guide you that you almost miss the way he pulls you closer, shifting you so that you’re practically on his lap and facing more towards him. 

 You feel his hand cup the underside of your jaw, caressing lightly with his thumb and the rings on his fingers feel much cooler against your rapidly heating skin. There are moments that you two break away briefly, but as if like magnets, you draw back to each other for more. As the kiss drags on into a full blown make-out, Jimin gets more confident.

 You feel the first brush of tongue against your bottom lip; it’s light and almost cautious, like he’s testing the waters. It takes you by surprise that your brain stutters to process it. Now this is definitely a first. It’s a first but you find yourself not wanting to shy away and though your heart is racing with anticipation and nerves, you still felt a sense of trust and security. So tentatively, you part your lips. 

 For a moment you think you’re doing it wrong but then you feel Jimin shift and then you feel a brush of his tongue again, this time against the roof of your mouth. You shiver involuntarily then, floundering but with Jimin’s coaxing, he draws you deeper into the kiss. You can practically taste the chocolate he just had: the sweet and bitter taste intermingling with the velvet feel of his lips and tongue. The new sensation has you sighing against his mouth, feeling like putty.

 He pulls away slowly, lips swollen and you swear a little pinker thanks to your faded lip tint; you wonder if yours is in the same state. The bedside lamp casts dark shadows across his face, highlighting the sheen his lips have taken and not hiding how blown out his pupils have become. You’re both out of breath, panting as you take the other in but Jimin is evidently less in a daze than you are because he’s moving again with a mind made up.

 He reaches for the forgotten chocolate box that you still have clutched in your hand, letting him take it from you to place on the nightstand.

 “I think that’s enough chocolate; don’t want to spoil dinner.” Jimin’s voice has taken on a deep rasp that has your breath hitching in your throat, eyes smoldering in a way you’ve never seen before. You lick your lips out of nervous habit but the action seems to catch Jimin’s attention, dark eyes flitting to them before they come back up to lock on you again. And as if like a trigger, he leans forward, capturing your lips with a kiss that belies ferocity. You’re absolutely flustered that for a moment you have a hard time keeping up with the way he molds his lips to yours and suddenly you think you might be dinner.

 Your hands find his shoulders as a brace and he seems to lean more into your touch eagerly. As he shifts to put more of his weight into you, you naturally let your hands travel to accommodate, leaving no resistance and soon, as if wanting to eliminate any space, he’s got you both falling back against the bed with your arms around his neck and him pulling you closer by your hips.

 “I haven’t kissed you at all tonight.” He says breathlessly between kissing you senseless. “I thought I was going to go crazy.”

 You let out a quiet laugh, not really understanding his dramatics but it’s hard to think properly when his lips are doing such a good job at distracting you. Jimin eventually lets his lips wander, pressing kisses to your jawline and moving downwards, keen on covering every surface of skin he can find.

 “And you had to go looking like this too. Ah really, are you trying to kill me noona…” He sucks a kiss into your neck, just below your ear and like a knee-jerk reaction, your back arches and the first sounds of a soft moan is pulled from your lips. It comes out before you realize it and immediately you feel your face become redder than a tomato, eyes widening because holy shit….

 Jimin freezes at the sound too, his ministrations halting though you can still feel his warm breath tickling against your damp skin. And then, you feel a twitch of his lips that you belatedly register as a smirk before they’re moving again on your neck. His newfound knowledge of the sensitive patch of skin lets him easily pull more breathy moans and soft whimpers from you. You’re starting to wonder who’s really trying to kill who at this point.

 Evidently, his lips were not the only thing that’s wandering. You feel the weight of the hand on your hip begin to shift, trailing down until you feel deft fingers brush your bare thighs. Your leg twitch as you freeze, startled; you completely forgot your dress had those revealing slits. Jimin stills his hand, hovering just out of reach at your reaction and he lifts his head up from kissing your collarbones to meet your gaze, worry washing away the cardinal hunger.

 “Sorry, I startled you. Do you want me to stop?”

 You take the time to gather yourself, blinking away the haze. “Ah…” You’re not sure what to say, your clearing mind giving way for self-conscious thoughts to invade. It’s not that you didn’t like it, just that you’re still testing the waters yourself with being intimate with someone after so long. But despite your obvious fumbling, Jimin is patient and considerate, always making sure you’re comfortable above everything else. 

 You can’t contain a smile at the thought.

 “What?” Jimin chuckles as he rests his hand on the mattress, the piercing grey-blue contacts he has on muted by the adoring gleam his eyes radiate; they practically drip honey.

 “Nothing…. Thank you for being so concerned, Jimin.” You say sincerely, voice quiet from not wanting to break the intimate moment that’s still lingering in the air.

 He shoots you a beaming smile, bringing up a hand to brush your hair back from your face. 

 “What are you saying? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t?”

 Boyfriend….

 The word makes a warmth blossom in your chest, which is ironic enough because months before, the word had no meaning to you nor did you really want there to be. You remained indifferent to it. That is, until you met Jimin who’s managed to worm his way into your heart and you’ve never been more thankful. 

 “Mmm you’re right…” You grin back. 

 “Of course,” He says smugly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, not before sneaking in a quick peck to the tip of your nose that has you giggling. “You could say you have the best boyfriend in the world.”

 You hum, biting your lip to keep another fit of giggles from coming in an attempt to play coy. But what can you say; Park Jimin is a man with his words.

 You sigh, feigning reluctance, “I guess I have no choice but to acknowledge it.”

 Jimin smiles widely to the point his eyes disappear and he has to contain his own bout of giggles. “And you’re the best girlfriend in the world.” He says, voice full of affection before kissing you. Soon though, the soft, short kisses gradually turn deeper and longer. 

 “I don’t mind…” You get out huskily before you’re completely lost in the heat of it all again. Jimin pauses, a mere breadth away to register what your words meant but when he does, his breath hitches a little. His eyes search yours as if making absolute sure, to which you offer a small smile, not looking away from him as you raise a reassuring hand to rest on his cheek.

 That’s all he needs to dive back in with renewed enthusiasm. Your senses were filled with nothing but Jimin; the feel of plush lips kissing yours swollen, the smell of his cologne, the softness of his hair as your fingers run through them and the sounds of his pants and muffled moans, all blending together into an intoxicating drug that has you wanting more.

 Like a scene repeating itself, you feel the first brush of fingers along your thigh once again, only this time; they daringly progress further until you feel the whole warmth of his palm resting on it. 

 “So soft….” Jimin breathes out, more to himself than to you, letting his hand glide slowly over the smooth skin reverently. Before you can let out a laugh, endeared by his unconscious slip of thought, he’s back to sucking kisses on your neck and down your throat and all you could do is shut your eyes and lean your head back, the sensation overwhelming.

 It only allows more access of skin for Jimin and he’s all too pleased as he brings you as close as you can, dragging your leg to wrap around his hips with a firm hand, kneading so delectably into the aching muscles. It’s getting hot, you’re getting hot, and this dress you’re wearing is starting to stick to you like a second skin uncomfortably. And on top of that, Jimin’s sweatshirt is not helping in elevating the heat; it’s just making it worse.

 But just as your hands start to tug at the fabric of Jimin’s shirt, a loud melodic chime cuts through the air. 

 You let out a loud gasp like you had been shocked, nails seizing into Jimin’s shoulder and he chokes out a groan as his attention whips to the direction of the door, body taut from the sudden interruption. After a moment though, he breathes out through his nose, deflating and then dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, blond strands of hair tickling your cheek as you let out your own breath to calm your racing heart.

 “Aish, really…. this timing…” You hear him grumbling and you had to hold back a laugh. The doorbell rings again, the incessant noise a signal that you would have to put this steamy session on hold for another time. You pat Jimin’s arm lightly and he reluctantly lets up his weight.

 “We can tell them to come back….” Jimin tries, blinking wide, puppy-dog eyes at you but you shake your head, smiling widely at him.

 “Jimin-ah I’m hungry, we need to eat.” 

 “But I already had my dinner.” 

 “Yah Park Jimin—!” You gasp, giving his shoulder a nudge, scandalized. He only doubles over laughing, tossing himself to rest beside you on the bed all squeaks and giggles. You roll your eyes playfully, getting up to make your way to the door but Jimin stops you by standing as well and grabbing your wrist.

 “It’s okay noona, I’ll get it for you.”

 “I can go get it, I’m already—“

 “No, no I’ll do it.” Jimin insists, spinning you so that you trade places before forcing you to plop back onto the bed. “A princess shouldn’t have to get up.” 

 “Princess…” You wheeze incredulously as Jimin just laughs again. You shake your head in disbelief though your lips twitch in holding back another smile. He rushes off to get the door and before long, he’s wheeling in a white-clothed table with silver serving covers. He pushes it over to where you’re sitting before he dramatically makes a show of presenting the dish like he’s a butler.

 What a goof.

 The rest of the night is pretty much spent enjoying each other’s company; Jimin talking about episodes that happened before getting on stage and meeting his other idol friends (while occasionally asking to be fed and sampling your food). The atmosphere is relaxing and you can’t help but find it a little amazing that you’re sitting here; with Jimin who’s become someone you deeply care and love. And crazier is that he’s willing to stick by you and help break out of your shell, even when you don’t know what you’re doing half the time. 

 Well, you suppose neither of you do really. 

 But you guess that’s the comfort of it all.

 -

 It’s a little past midnight by the time Jimin decided he should let you rest of the night. Ever the gentleman, he makes sure to take care of the table, rolling back outside to leave by your door before coming back in to say goodnight.

 “Make sure you don’t stay up too late, even though it’s not good to go to sleep right after you just ate.” Jimin says, stopping right in front of the door to face you.

 “I know, I gotta take off all this make-up anyways so…it’ll be a while.” You reply back nonchalantly. He makes a noise of disapproval, grasping your hand and swinging them gently between you two.

 “You’re beautiful with or without make-up, it doesn’t matter how much you got on.”

 The statement makes you laugh shyly, head tilting down in an attempts to hide the blush creeping onto your face. A hand brings it back up however and you find yourself staring up at twinkling grey-blue eyes. He smiles, tilting his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

 When he pulls back, he takes a moment to just stare as if he’s taking in every feature of your face, one hand cupping your cheek. You see the way his eyes wander languidly, from the tops of your head before trailing down and lingering down to your chin and neck. You see the beginnings of a smirk itching to make itself known on those full lips of his but he smoothly transitions it to be a sweet smile.

 “Goodnight, noona.” He says.

 “Sleep well, Jimin.” You reply, giving the hand you’re holding a squeeze. With one last gentle caress, Jimin reluctantly opens the door and steps out, turning back briefly to send a small wave over his shoulder. You send one back and you as slowly as you could you shut the door.

 You let out a whoosh of air, placing a hand to your pounding heart in an attempt to prevent it from actually bursting out of your chest. Your cheeks are burning, they also hurt from the wide grin on your face but you feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. 

 “Gosh, relax.” You mutter to yourself, patting your cheek as you make your way to the bathroom. Stepping inside, you search for your makeup wipes, pulling one out of the packet and as you turn to face the mirror….“Holy shit—!”

 Along one side of your neck down to the edge of your collarbone were reddish-purple bruises. You double take to make sure you’re not just seeing things but they were there all right. 

 You huff out a sigh of resignation; this is gonna be a pain in the ass to cover and only thing Jimin is gonna do is probably giggle himself to sleep tonight.

#jimin x you #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #bts fic #jimin fic #park jimin fic #park jimin fluff #jimin fics #bts fics #jimin scenarios #jimin scenario #bts scenario #park jimin imagines #jimin imagine #bts fluff #jimin fluf #idol!jimin x reader #bts idol au #bts jimin fic #bts jimin scenario #bts fanfic #idol!jimin au

[whatscallion]

don’t panic!

Pairing: Flirtatiously Quill x Unnamed OC ( it’ll make sense )

A/N: This is the first time I’ve really done an OC / Reader insert deal, but figured that the writing challenge set by @spxderbarnes would be a good time to start! Besides, who doesn’t enjoy Quill (okay, ignoring infinity war bc obvious reasons). Hope I did this remotely right. Lots of references to one of my favorite book series, and a fun film - ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’. Best if read in the voice of Stephen Fry. Summary: A failed date at Milliways, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, that is unabashedly crashed by a group of rowdy individuals - including one Star Lord. Shooting and great hair ensues. Word Count: 3,097

Special thanks to @cptsteven for dialogue help.

There were once stories written in the stars, carefully planned as to not tip any balance one way or another. There are those who wish to see this done, just for the sake of planetary chaos. This rarely bode well for the galaxy’s inhabitants. Yet amidst it all, there tended to be a common denominator, one that would surprise even the most powerful of beings.

And he had a knack for timing.

Milliways was, as always, a popular destination for all kinds of critters across the universe, both intelligent and not. The establishment boasted its exotic dishes through dismal advertising - most of which was by word of mouth, passing through the different curls of languages painting the cosmos. It was most known for its drinks, all of which required an incredibly high pain tolerance in order to consume. If that was survived, then surely the hangover would do the trick in granting untimely death. Fortunately enough, only about 5% of the universe’s populace could actually afford such a drink, so lesser beings didn’t have to worry, often opting for the local tap water, which was arguably just as bad.

But there she was - that bored girl from Terra who’d been unfortunately stood up in one of the most far-reaching restaurants anyone has or hasn’t heard of. How she managed to get there required a ridiculous amount of impossible abnormality. It was enough to require a change of clothing and sugary coffee to get by all those stars and that unending void. But it did end, in a sense, because that’s where Milliways was. There were all kinds of physics surrounding how it managed to ride the wave of the expanding universe, offering unparalleled views into a very true and very seamless abyss, but that was neither here nor there.

The tap water had something of a metallic taste to it, and our girl only took a sip or two before finally letting that scowl bleed through to compound her already lacking disposition. Through months of travelling as an unexpected guest aboard some intergalactic pirate ship, the novelty of alien compositions had worn off completely. Every possible color of the rainbow had come in every possible shape and texture any one being could think of. The excitement of the Final Frontier had waned, just as the restaurant’s atmosphere had over the course of several millennia. A once posh venue serving only the elite, Milliways had degraded itself to a tourist trap with questionable patrons and even more questionable dishes.

She grumbled about her absent date, expressing her disdain for what she’d been dressed in ( iridescent mesh had not been her choice, but that of the ship’s captain ) through a deep sneer and a subtle fidget. It was also incredibly uncomfortable, but of course, she’d been reassured she’d draw more attention than a Ta’avarian on the planet Nucleux, whatever that meant. It was becoming more and more apparent that the ship she’d been on had been waiting to unload their unwitting bounty to get on with their lives rather than pander to a fragile Terran who couldn’t even hold her breath for longer than a minute.

For a moment, she wondered how improbable it was to get a hamburger in this place that was made from a discernible meat. But thoughts were ceased as the doors to the restaurant whipped open to reveal a handful of very colorful individuals who immediately commanded attention through presence alone.

That and they were quite loud.

A tree ent, a raccoon ( that she assumed lived in a nest on the tree ent ), a scowling green woman, a larger scowling green man with intricate markings ( which she assumed was the reason he was shirtless in a restaurant ), and a man who looked surprisingly normal despite wearing green ( short ) gym shorts, a sweater, and flip flops. Never in her life had the Terran seen such a diverse group of individuals, prompting her to stare longer than what was deemed admissible, even by a Kloxin’s standards. For those unaware of the race known as ‘Kloxins’, they are an arachnid type species that can ensnare the mind if all eight eyes are met simultaneously. This would wreak havoc on the universe if everyone had eight eyes as well, so the Kloxins are doomed to simply control one another for the time being until evolution can throw them a bone.

The seemingly rowdy group went and sat in the corner of the restaurant, which held a perfect view of absolutely nothing while boasting about shooting this or slicing into that. The Terran girl only looked away when she felt the dryness of her tongue since her jaw had dropped somewhat. Right when she thought she’d seen it all, or at least became numb to it all, she became surprised at what this team was comprised of. She turned in her seat, greeted only with her reflection in the mirror at the back of Milliway’s bar, though it was frowning at her. Envy, curiosity, anxiety - they all wracked through her system, and she’d offered whatever imaginary greater force her soul in exchange for regular clothing. Her kingdom for denim. Whoever that was was obviously busy, for her attire didn’t change in the slightest, bringing her to groan in self-pity.

Hidden behind her hands that had been stained blue since first being picked up off her planet, there was a subtle shift in the space next to her. Some sort of extra-sensory thing she wished she could put her finger on, choosing to believe cosmic radiation had started to change her when really, she was just being perceptive and it was oddly quiet. She peeked through her fingers, finding that the most normal of that loud crowd had chosen to sit beside her, though he wasn’t looking at her.

She couldn’t help but glance down at the gym shorts that looked as if they’d gotten two inches shorter since he’d entered the place.

“You look normal,” he finally said, just before hailing down the robotic bartender for a glass of tap water, neat. “Like you’re not from anywhere near Centuri or anything.”

For those unaware, the radiation belt surrounding Centuri covers millions upon millions of lightyears of space, thus turning most inhabitants into something that resembles what your aunt would bring to Thanksgiving for dessert: globby, bits of things floating in it, and unappetizing in color.

“Uh,” she started, unaware that she’d been served something that resembled a hamburger, but strong suspicions would have her believe it was merely a facade for something tasting akin to celery. Mind reading robots tended to operate that way, acting on visual dreams rather than the substance that created them. “I guess I’m normal? I don’t know what to categorize as normal. Earth isn’t very normal to begin with.”

This managed to grab the man’s attention, bringing him to turn in his seat to face her completely, making it increasingly difficult to not steal another glance at the magically diminishing shorts. His eyes were alight with curiosity and relation, which forced the Terran to assume he knew the planet she was from. She could only hope that his opinions of the place were good, making him one of the very few she’d come across with the right attitude. More often than not, she feigned being from Earth’s moon which was the equivalent to being from America’s Alaska when traveling abroad.

Same neighborhood, but unassociated to those who don’t know better.

“Earth? Really? Hey, I’m from there. What a coinkidink. Did ‘Temple of Doom’ just blow Indiana Jones out of the water or what?” He looked too hopeful for that, but the truth was out of her mouth before she could really stop it.

“What? No. It’s the worst of the original trilogy. Earth collectively doesn’t even talk about the fourth one.” The girl sounded harsher than she intended. Probably.

“Trilogy? They made another one after ‘Temple of Doom’? And another after that?” While he looked minutely downcast, there was an eagerness to know more about the planet she came from. Which was his planet as well. “What uh- What else did they do?”

“Remade ‘Footloose’.”

“WHAT.”

His exclamation was enough to draw the attention of the restaurant’s patrons, all of whom were now settle with varying gazes upon the two at the bar. While she seemed a bit shy about the attention, her neighbor seemed unphased by it, as if he were used to being watched with differing states confusion.

He was oblivious, until someone spoke up.

“‘Footloose’? You’re kidding me.” It was more a growl than anything, followed by the unmistakable noise of a chair skidding across worn laminate flooring. The man in the shorts turned before the Terran girl did, both now looking across the dining room at what could only be described as a heaping pile of slimy ropes mushed together to vaguely resemble a bipedal . . . thing.

This was a member of the Gliphtrin race, who are infamous for finding sheer joy in throwing small rocks at bigger rocks, then eating said smaller rocks. But eating was unnecessary since they were all collections of smaller beings that greatly resembled boiled hagfish, absorbing their needed nutrients from the air around them. They are, collectively, notorious for having tempers and holding grudges. In fact, they hold the record for longest grudge held, which predates the universe’s creation by three and a half days.

No one is really sure what the grudge is, or who it is against, but it is known to be fierce and misplaced.

“Ooooooh, heeeey . . . you.” The green-shorted man had obviously forgotten this particular alien’s name, and it was apparently the wrong thing to do. The Terran girl could just sit there and watch as if a fly on the wall, wishing she had a glass of water she could hide behind - preferably one that didn’t threaten her livelihood. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s it hanging? Low and a little to the left?”

“You stole my fuel! And left me deserted on a desert planet! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BAD THAT IS FOR MY SKIN?!” This growing conflict between green shorts and rope monster was growing a bit comfortable as far as the Terran was concerned, which would explain why she slipped from her seat to put distance between her at the verdant booty shorts. This felt like an inevitable disaster, which would be truly fatal considering they were in a place that was nothing more than a pocket of air in the vastness of space, which had no air.

The lingering sensation of possible death sat heavily at the back of the Terran’s mind as she continued to sidestep away from the only other Earthling she’d met in roughly six months. This felt like a bad mix of whatever was going between the two and tainted water, which was proving to be volatile, even by the universe’s standards.

“Hey! YOU said you had spare fuel! YOU said I could have what you had in order to get to Knowhere! YOU CAN’T BLAME ME FOR TRUSTING ONE OF YOUR WEIRD TALKING FACE HOLES!” The flipflopped man had a way with words, it seemed.

Nowhere? Huh, thought the Terran, now at the edge of the bar.

The rope monster roared with all billion mouths it apparently had, which rightfully incited chaos almost immediately. The Terran girl dove behind the bar in a shimmering flash of iridescence, quick to curl into a ball against the shattering of numerous bottles that had been adorning the back counter. Fear held her tightly, keeping her from even imagining the war carrying on just a few feet away from her small safe haven in the corner of a dingy countertop. Imagine her surprise when a body had hopped over and fell to the floor beside her.

The booty shorts man. And he had a gun. Or what she assumed to be a gun. It wasn’t a gun by Terran standards, but it was definitely something you pointed at something else to make it stop moving one way or another. Part of his sweater was burned off.

Oh.

That got the Terran’s attention. She hadn’t quite noticed there could’ve been muscle beneath that poly-blend.

“DAMN IT!” He wasn’t nearly as happy that his clothing was ruined. “Rocket! ANY LUCK?!”

There was nothing but cackling in return, which had actually been a good answer since the tension of the situation slowly dissipated from him as he sat up, checking the gun thing in his hand and finally noticing the girl he’d been talking to was right beside him.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t think you were alive. So that’s cool. I’m Peter, by the way.” He held out his free hand, and took her own, but the destruction raining down around them kept her from really returning the favor and giving him her name. From the pocket of his shorts ( which she really could not get over ), he produced a small device - an MP3 player. “This calls for some mood music, yah know?”

She immediately recognized the tune as he put it on.

‘Kiss’ by Prince. A classic.

“If we all get out of here alive, wanna come with? Couldn’t help but notice that whole forlorn doe-eyed look you had going on earlier. We could use a girl on the crew.” It was mind boggling to the Terran that Peter was so calm as glass and splintered wood peppered the air so continuously. This must be a somewhat common occurrence.

“I-...what? That green woman-..”

“Gamora? She’s alright. Bit rough around the edges. Actually, a lot rough around the edges. Did you know she slept with that Iron Dude once? She said he cried.” There was ample snickering on his part, which made up for the complete lack of comprehension on the Terran’s part. “But hey, you should definitely think about it. It’d be fun and nice. We’re cool. I’m the coolest, because I’m the captain. I have my own ship and everything. And music.”

She was just so . . . flabbergasted.

“Peter, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything since we just met, and there’s a lot going on, but are you flirting with me?” Part of her hoped he wasn’t, just because the timing would be so strange - almost too cinematic and cliche.

But a much larger part of her hoped he was.

“I don’t know, maybe?” He spoke as he reloaded his gun thing, or so she assumed. “Is it working? Because if it is, I’m definitely flirting.”

This man wearing shorts that left so little to the imagination and ( what she knew to be ) Old Navy flip flops was being so smooth despite the complete hot mess he made himself look like. The crooked smirk beneath the slightly grown facial hair was the kicker. It was then that the Terran found herself budding a whole new appreciation for the jaded hue and a new take on casual wear.

Before she could answer, the entire bar area fell prey to what had been a nega-space hand grenade, which had instantly condensed the entire bar structure to one single atom before exploding it outward in a grand display of absolute annihilation. But in the wake of something so absolute, there was only silence. Who had lived through that?

Everyone.

The Gliphtrin had scattered after basically being disassembled during the blast, and most of the patrons had been dubiously ( and conveniently ) knocked out as well. It was undoubtedly the crew that Peter had arrived with that were the first to stir from where they’d landed during the fight and subsequent explosion, murmuring curses at both parties involved. It was pertinent that they leave immediately before word of their usual shenanigans got to the Vogons who would almost literally bury them in necessary paperwork.

“That was less than I expected,” the raccoon cackled as he scrambled for the door, Treebeard following with only one arm less than he’d shown up with. “I’m disappointed in kids these days. Ain’t a good fight in the stars.”

“We’re not really looking to fight, Rocket,” the green woman spoke, sheathing a sword that had been hidden away when she’d entered the restaurant. “We’re running out of places we’re not banned from. If we keep this up, we’ll be eating whatever Drax feels like cooking.”

“I make great meals. I don’t know what you’re talking about, making it sound like torture,” the large tattooed man said, flicking what looked to be a finger off his bare shoulder. “If I wanted to actually torture you, it would not be with life-sustaining food.”

“On the bright side, we’re all alive, right?” Peter had gotten up, somehow forgetting the Terran’s existence in the process. Maybe the blast had scrambled his brains a little. “And I know, I know - I say that every time, but I’ll stop saying it when it stops being true.”

They were heading out when they heard a very meek ‘hey’ from the collateral left behind them. When Peter turned to look back at the noise, almost expecting one of the mini-rope monsters egging him on, he could only do that damned crooked smirk again at the site of torn mesh.

The Terran girl.

“Hey, buttercup, you’re alive! Wanna come with?” Even if he’d been unabashedly flirting before in the midst of a firefight, there was still some semblance of sincerity there as he watched her stand, completely ignoring the incredulous looks from his cohorts. “We’re heading to uh . . . I think it’s Gre’qrium next. Right?”

He had to look to those standing around him for confirmation, which he got by way of enthusiastic nods before they began to amble off.

“Whaddya say? I heard it’s got rivers of pearls, incredible food, and a really relaxed policy on clothing.”

“Hell yes, I do,” she answered, more than thankful that her date had stood her up at that god awful restaurant. She started to walk with him towards a teal and orange ship that looked a lot cooler than the pirate ship she’d previously been on. “Wait, what do you mean relaxed policy?”

“It’s a nudist planet,” the green woman answered from inside the ship.

“Oh,” said the Terran. “That’s uh . . .”

“Don’t worry,” Peter said, throwing an arm around the girl in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “It’s not like they look like us.”

“They look worse,” said the one she assumed was Drax. “Beautiful, but worse.”

“We’ve got a trip ahead of us. Tell me what I’ve missed at home. Clothing optional.”

Peter winked.

Everyone but the Terran rolled their eyes.

#Ems21st #quill x oc #starlord #gotg #marvel #mine

[famedroleplayarchive]

MICHELLE CHAE, better known as RORIN, is the VOCAL AND RAPPER of CHROMA under BC ENTERTAINMENT. She was born on JUNE 20, 1999. She looks a little like KIM MINJEONG (WINTER) OF AESPA.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

faceclaim: Kim Minjeong (Winter), member of æspa.

legal name: Michelle Rorin Chae

stage name: Rorin.

pronouns: She / her / hers.

birth date: Jun 20, 1999.

hometown: Valley Glen, CA.

position: Vocal, rapper of Chroma.

claims: None.

BIOGRAPHY

triggers: Mentions of slut-shaming; misogynistic comments; estranged relatives; allusions to addiction and abandonment.

( MICHELLE CHAE’s LIFE IN VIGNETTES ● FROM 1999 → PRESENT )

SCENE I. VALLEY GLEN, CA — Q4, 2007. UNDISCLOSED ICE SKATING RINK.

“She’s a natural on the ice; it’s incredible to me how quickly she picked things up. Has she ever done this before?” The instructor queries as she gazes out at Michelle; watching closely as she finds her balance and gains more confidence the longer that she can stay upright. Never having realized how graceful she is, she aligns her small limbs beautifully to assist in her glides—merely understanding how to hold her posture for better balance. “Y’know, you should really consider getting her a proper coach. It’s not often that a kid just... knows how to control themselves out there.”

Her mother listens, then nods; letting each suggestion sink in before responding. “Well, if she likes it, then we’ll have to consider it...” It’s a simple response that she hopes suffices, and while she would want nothing more than to support her daughter in discovering what she excels at, she can’t help but think about the money in the family bank account—and how it’s nowhere near as high as it should be given the amount of people in their household.

“Look, mom!” The little one yells from the center of the rink, being brave enough to raise one of her legs into an arabesque while she skates; somehow not tumbling over in the process. It’s in that moment when the instructor cheers, gobsmacked at the progress. “See what I mean?” It’s a lot to consider, especially as Heesun knows the cost of putting a child through such a rigorous training regiment. It’s not only paying out-of-pocket for the materials needed or making sure the coach is paid what their worth, but it’s also long hours practicing and grueling schedules. How on earth any child can sustain that while also attending school is unheard of to her, but all at once, she notices how wide Michelle smiles as she coasts, and it warms her heart.

“Do you have any recommendations? I can’t really afford to pay an arm and a leg for it at this time, but if it’s within reason, I think it would be good for her... so long as it doesn’t get in the way of her studies.” Nodding, her teacher guides her mother into her office, but that doesn’t stop the rising figure skater from continuing. Little does she know, she’s falling in love.

SCENE II. BOSTON, MA — Q1, 2014. THE TD GARDEN, ARENA.

“You’re going to do a great job! We’ve been practicing a lot, your routine is great, and even if I’m hard on you sometimes, I’m still really proud of you!” Her coach urges, and she nods, but she’s not really paying attention to anything that she’s saying. Instead, her eyes turn backwards to the bleachers—doing her best to see if her father had arrived to join her mother in the audience. It’s literal milliseconds before she’s set to take to the ice, but so far, there’s no sight of him. Back at home, he’s her biggest cheerleader, but whenever it comes to showing up at important events, he constantly fails, and unfortunately, that’s not his only flaw either. Now that she’s gotten a little bit older, Michelle understands why her mom and dad don’t talk much, even if it’s only recently that they all sit in silence at the dinner table.

Right on time, the announcer calls her name and she rises; gliding over to her mark. She’s upset knowing that he’s not in attendance, but she does her best to suppress all of her emotions.

Like coach always says: “Now’s not that the time for that.”

Taking a deep breath, she easily finds her opening pose and holds it strong; powerful. So many thoughts race through her mind in that instant. She thinks about the choreography she’s spent months learning. She thinks about the plans that her mother made for after they’re done at the rink. She thinks about her dad and what he’s up to... and right then, almost as if to snap her out of her trance, the music starts pounding through the speakers—muscle memory kicking into high-gear to guide her through each detailed motion. It’s a release of her emotions through her body, and it’s in these moments where she feels the most free.

What’s unfortunate is that this rush of adrenaline never lasts as long as she’d like it to, and only after a few minutes, she’s back to where she began, but now poised in her final position.

Skating back towards her coach, Michelle takes her seat once more; a blanket draped softly over her shoulders for warmth. When her scores are revealed, they’re the same as always: fair. While she’s typically relieved to sit pretty in the middle, today, she responds negatively to them; feeling as though all of her hard work didn’t add up to a well-deserved win.

She also blames her father for promising that he’d finally make an appearance as her official “good luck charm” only to forsake her yet again.

Michelle spends the rest of that evening pensively staring out of windows; text messages arriving from her dad—all apologizing for not being able to make his flight after work.

SCENE III. VALLEY GLEN, CA — Q3, 2016. ULYSSES S. GRANT HIGH SCHOOL.

STUDENT A: “Gross... she comes across as so desperate, like...” STUDENT B: “I don’t understand what guys see in her, she’s obnoxious!” STUDENT C: “Yeah like, she still acts like she’s in seventh grade.” STUDENT D: “Hey, wait—didn’t she used to figure skate?” STUDENT A: “That’s right! I heard she had to stop ‘cause she’s broke now.” STUDENT D: “Desperate, cheap, slutty... guess that’s Michelle Chae for ya.”

—

Dad started to sell their personal belongings in order to feed his newly discovered habit. Mom was driven wild. It didn’t take long for things to explode, and with the end of their relationship came a screeching halt to Michelle’s figure skating career. With her father no longer being an active part of her life, she and her mother barely made end’s meat—barely seeing one another due to the lengthy hours they both worked to pay the bills. She’s only seventeen and instead of saving money for college, she puts every penny towards supporting her family. She spends so much time being responsible that she deeply sacrifices any personal pleasures and friendships.

Then again, it’s not like people at school are clamoring to get to know her.

From an early age, she knew that she got along better with boys as opposed to girls. In truth, Michelle spent a lot of time around other figure skaters ( most of which were female ) that often treated her poorly, so she’s learned not to really trust members of the same sex easily. Most of the time, those “friendships” turned into gross competitions, camaraderie devolved into petty rivalries, and honestly, she absolutely fucking hated it.

In her heart of hearts, she knows that it’s not good to alienate herself from other girls, and it’s something she works on, but at the same time, because of her close friendship with many of her school’s male students, some of her peers refer to her as a “whore” and a “slut,” and sadly, this label has stuck with her since middle school. Some say that she’s too sweet which makes her “easy.” Others say she’s fake and has stolen many boyfriends—which isn’t accurate at all.

Honestly, Michelle has ever understood the rumors. If boys gave her their attention and made her feel special, why should she be “burned at the stake” for engaging with them? For simply finding pleasure in their gazes; their touches? Instead of being embraced by the frigid cool, she’s wrapped up in the strong arms of a lover—that same rush of adrenaline now found in-between bedsheets as opposed to anywhere near a skating rink.

The downside to all of this, though? She falls in love far too easily, and more often than not, her heart ends up broken—and sometimes, it’s all her own fault.

SCENE IV. SEOUL, KR — Q2, 2020. SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY.

“Sorry!” Michelle exclaims, in English, to a passerby she accidentally bumped into—completely lost on her first day. It was her mom’s idea for her to attend school ( for at least two semesters, anyway ) in Seoul, and even though she was really hesitant at first, she thought that it might be a great opportunity to learn more about where she’s from. That, and well, she’d be able to see her grandparents way more often, especially since they’re getting older. That being said, it’s not been an easy transition, and the culture shock is rampant.

Luckily, she knows how to read and write the language, but that’s about as far as it goes. She’s embarrassingly American—her seniors often view her as rude and loud, but she has absolutely no idea about any of the social customs ( and spoiler alert: still doesn’t ) and knows that she fucks up a lot. Despite this, she fails to truly pick up on them, even after she’s been corrected.

After trying to find her first class, she takes a wrong turn and ends up back where she started—and as she groans in annoyance, someone calls out to her from behind; prompting her to turn around. When she sees a slightly older man approach her, she offers a grin, then a sloppy bow.

“Are you talking to me?” She asks, tilting her head gently; curiously. “Yes! I’m sorry to bother, but I think you might be just who I’m looking for!” “I... don’t think I know what you mean?” Michelle questions, a little creeped out.

Later that week, she attends an audition to join an entertainment company, and even though she has never had training in singing or rapping, she miraculously makes it in... and decides then to skip out on her nursing degree in favor of a totally risky once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

That being said, her mom’s going to be beyond livid.

SCENE V. SEOUL, KR — Q1, 2021. BC ENTERTAINMENT HQ.

Having only started training in April of the year prior, it’s not even been one year since Michelle began her training, so when she’s called into the talent manager’s office, she’s not expecting to hear any good news. After all, she’s constantly being told that she’s lacking in comparison to the other trainees, so how on earth could she have earned a chance to début? She knows a girl group’s being formed and that some of the others she’s trained with have already been given slots, and have even recorded promotional singles. Needless to say, she’s not feeling especially confident.

She takes the seat offered to her and does her best to be respectful, and when she’s informed that she’s been selected as a member for their upcoming project, she thought it was a joke.

“What?” She asks, gobsmacked, and the manager further explains why she’s chosen. In essence—well, at least from what she remembers—he said that she has great potential, and her skills in English, her unique vocal color, and willingness to learn are all assets to the group in various fashions. Stunned, all she could do was nod and agree with him; realizing then and there that this is actually happening to her. In what seemed like no time whatsoever, she’ll be standing on-stage as a somebody. She’ll be thrust in front of cameras and made completely vulnerable to the public. Truth be told, she thought she’d be working hard for a few years before getting a chance to become an idol, but now, it’s consuming all of her reality at a rapid pace.

As scared as she is, she hopes that being given yet another rare opportunity will convince her mom that this is a good idea. She also hopes that she’s able to pull off the image that they’ve discussed for her—one that rivals that of Snow White and Alice In Wonderland as far as purity is concerned. It’s no secret that she’s a bit rough around the edges, so she’s terrified.

All she can do now is hold out hope for the best, even if only the worst case-scenarios continue to plague her thoughts lately.

#fmdfollow #bcentertainment #chroma

[dewi08]

BNX Finex | 200000 TRON(TRX).

#BNX #BNXFINEX #Defi #Crypto #exchange

Introduction

BNX FINEX Platform is a decentralized exchange popularly known as BNX Bank is a crypto trading platform designed to ensure trading security and transparency .Trading activities are conducted in a decentralized manner and the traders take control and manages their funds and assets through their Private keys. Under this system of trading, traders identity are kept anonymous while the service of intermediaries are completely skipped. 

We are gradually pivoting to a technological era where computing power is the fuel of modern technology. Computer processing power is needed to fuel the ever growing and rising aspects of emerging technology. Artificial intelligence, virtual reality, augmented reality, cloud computing and blockchain technology, just to mention a few. It has become a commodity as demand for it keeps on growing.

Lately, you can just about buy anything with cryptocurrency — from BNX Exchange works to top of the line supercars. However, when it comes to shopping for groceries or buying a latte in your favorite café, it’s back to good ol’ fiat currencies. 

Cryptocurrency offers an unprecedented level of security and protection when it comes to the storage and transfer of values. Its disintermediation of traditional financial infrastructure and decentralized service delivery has availed millions of people all around the world by providing access to transparent banking services.

 What if there was a payment solution offering users the privacy and security of cryptocurrencies while retaining the liquidity they’re used to with cash? What if there was a solution that allowed users to spend cryptocurrencies as easily as cash without the need to juggle numerous wallets or employ third-party services to convert it? What if the solution was as simple as swiping a card? Well, that solution is here — with BNX Token.

What is A BNX FINEX?

BNX FINEX is a cryptocurrency exchange trading platform-based payments alternative that is fast, convenient, and secure. BNX FINEX eliminates the complexity, high-costs, and delays that are familiar to the present system and replaces it with a simple, affordable, and quick network.

BNX FINEX Cryptocurrency Exchange Platform mission

is to open the cryptocurrency market to everyone with a variety of interesting products and services. As a trustworthy company, we encourage blockchain adoption and offer a safe and easy way to take part in the future of financial markets. The BNX Token blockchain platform is all engrafted with a set of unique features which makes its outstanding for its users and crypto-currency (digital) traders etc.  

Global Cryptocurrency Exchange

Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply rand om text. It has roots in a piece of classical Latin literature from 45 BC, making it over years old. Richard McClintock, a Latin professor at Hampden-Sydney College in Virginia, looked up one of the more obscure Lat words, consectetur, from a Lorem Ipsum passage.

And going through the cites of the word in classical litera ture, discovered the undoubtable source. Lorem Ipsum comes from sections. Latin professor at Hampden-Sydney College in Virginia, loo ked up one of the more obscure Lat words, consec.

1. High Liquidity

Plenty of resources and a great number of partners.

2. High Stability

High stability is ensured on multiple layers and levels.

3. Good Performance

Ability to handle 1.5 million transactions per second

4. Professionally Marketing

The marketing team used to be Google and

BNXFINEX

Bnxfinex always strives to be the best and most reliable trading broker in the world. The goals of bnxfinex are very specific to bring you an invaluable global experience combined with the unique insights of leading experts. Bnxfinex.com promises constant innovation, advancement, and support. The Bnxfinex team understands that reputation is of the utmost importance to a company when it comes to the financial brokerage. That is what motivated Bnxfinex to develop a trading environment that was most convenient for all customers (regardless of individuals or organizations).

Bnxfinex offers investors a friendly, easy to use trading platform with a wide variety of product programmed by Bnxfinex on many devices to help customers trade anytime, anywhere. Experts working with Bnxfinex are those who have knowledge about the market, customers psychology and are on the mission of bringing Bnxfinex products to more than 100 countries worldwide. The exchanges, possessing a strong support team with a large number of customers around the globe.

Coming to Bnxfinex, users will enjoy simple and convenient payment methods, thereby providing to investment environment for all customers, from beginners to investment trading to experienced players. Stability is another reason for the partner's trust so during operation and expansion, Bnxfinex is always attached to customer values.

The Market BNX FINEX Exchange

Total Supply for Saving: 3,000,000

Total Remaining Supply: 2,586,144

Remaining Blocks: 13

Start Price: 1.1

Target: 3,000,000

BNX left to go to the next block: 186,144

Current Block Information

Start: $1.1

Current: 13856 BNX

Current Block: 3

Current Price: $1.1

Next Block Price: $1.2

Next Block Supply: 600,000 BNX

Finish: $1.20

Target: 200,000 BNX

Token BNX

The BNX Token is developed based on the ERC20 standard belonging to the Ethereum network.

Token Name: BNX Token

Symbol: BNX

Total Volume: 12.000.000

The BNX Token will be distributed to a follower

Marketing: 2.000.000

Savings: 3.000.000

The Community Fund: 3.000.000

The Foundation Fund: 4.000.000

Conclusion

BNX FINEX is one of the results of the development of the blockchain technology that has experienced good performance and excellent ideas based on a system that directly opens up opportunities for investors to be more open with symbolic investments. 

BNX is the most complete investment ecosystem operating on the Block. Being one of the first platform platforms to be generated, this company wants to realize and help investors to worry more about the economic weakness that many are suffering in the world in the concept of mutual assistance as an investment that can be exchanged by registered users in this blockchain. 

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#BNX #BNXFINEX #Defi #Crypto #exchange

For More Information Connect to  BNX FINEX Exchange

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Whitepaper: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QSehWFQgmvf3lDXwdGJVCKkBHA77Sxut/view

Telegram:  https://t.me/bnxfinex

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/bnx_finex

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AUTHOR

Bitcointalk Username: Dewi08

Telegram Username: @ dhewio8

Bitcointalk url: https://bitcointalk.org/index.php?action=profile;u=894088

TRON wallet address: TBN4V2cyZdCfoSx2ugDu6ZkfDr4rVxtKpL

#crypto ethereum technological

[mgladkikh]

Technology and Privacy Rights

In recent years, technology has come to the forefront of social life. For many people, old and young alike, technology has become integral and necessary to the daily maintenance of everyday living. It is easy to understand why this is so: technology provides unparalleled comfort and accessibility for relatively little hassle. And yet, an unseen aspect of this lifestyle is that surveillance and monitoring are increasingly intensifying, as are the technologies that extend their reach. This kind of surveillance is responsible for the “BarWatch” program in BC.

What is BarWatch?

BarWatch is a scan-to-enter system largely seen in bars, clubs and some restaurants. While BarWatch was originally intended to combat gang presence, its reach has since stretched to include general rowdyism and related types of uncivil behavior associated with nightclub patrons.

How Does BarWatch Work?

The purpose of BarWatch is to promote safety and security of patrons in licensed establishments; all visitors attempting to enter a participant establishment must present identification for scanning before they can enter. Any patrons that have previously engaged in unlawful or uncivil behavior are flagged at the scanner and prevented from entering the establishment. Participant establishments must warn patrons that they are members of BarWatch by affixing signs at entryways that contain the BarWatch “code of conduct”.

Who Participates in BarWatch?

Participant establishments that operate and own scanning systems subscribe to an open list of banned patrons. Most bans last one year. Once the ban has run out, the problem patron is moved from the open list to a closed list of banned patrons specific to the establishment originating the ban. This is because problem patrons are often banned—either permanently or temporarily beyond a year—from the establishment that originated the ban in addition to being placed on BarWatch. Such closed lists are not available to other participant establishments.

PatronScan is the company that provides the scanning devices and stores the scanned IDs on a private server. Although its privacy policy states that any data gathered is deleted every 24 hours, PatronScan actually deletes information permanently from the server after 90 days in most jurisdictions. The police are the only authority with the right to store any such information beyond the 90 day period.

The local police partner with participant establishments and actively sponsor and support the BarWatch program. This partnership operates similarly to the partnership between law enforcement and businesses under the Inadmissible Patron Program.

What are the Concerns?

According to the BC Civil Liberties Association, BarWatch is a method of screening, surveillance and black-listing that lacks transparency. It is unclear what rules customers must follow in participant establishments and there is no publicly-accessible information/catalogue regarding what information the scanning system collects and where personal data is kept. Moreover, there is no way to appeal a decision to remove someone from an establishment, and it constricts people’s life choices. Quite possibly it also punishes those who have left the criminal lifestyle, become rehabilitated and rejoined mainstream society. It is also rife with opportunities for abusive banning practices, and may have unintended but harmful consequences for minorities, who are profiled and excluded. This is consistent with BarWatch’s commitment to putting “safety before privacy”, which contains the implication that safety must come at the expense of privacy and that the two cannot exist cooperatively and in tandem.

Collection of Data

When the BarWatch program was initially piloted, participant establishments employed the TreoScope ID scanning system to gather personal data from patrons. This system recorded the age, name, gender, expiry date, driver’s license number and photograph of every patron upon entry at any participant establishment. However, in 2009, BC Privacy Commissioner, David Loukidelis, issued a report stating that a Vancouver bar using Treoscope was collecting and retaining too much personal data from patrons.

In his report, Loukidelis submitted that privacy legislation should be viewed in the same light as human rights legislation, in that it seeks to protect and respect the dignity of individuals. He argued that proportionality and reasonableness should properly limit what surveillance is permissible by private and public entities. Loukidelis found that the bar was collecting too much information in relation to deterring violence and preventing under-age patrons from entering. He suggested that perhaps the Treoscope system was less about deterring violence and promoting public safety, and more about creating evidence to be used to defend against a potential lawsuit.

This report brought changes to the BarWatch system: participant establishments switched to the PatronScan system which collects only names, dates of birth and photographs. Despite this, the debate surrounding BarWatch’s legality has continued.

Accessing Information Illegally

One major concern surrounding BarWatch has been police access to the BarWatch database. Although the database (with respect to both open and closed lists) is owned by the participant establishments themselves, police can access it through a court order when dealing with issues of public safety.

In some circumstances, this has worked well: in 2013, a Victoria man was apprehended by police on attempted murder charges after they were granted a warrant to view a BarWatch database. The charges were connected to the man’s behavior in a participant establishment and the database belonged to the club that originated the ban.

In other circumstances, this has worked quite poorly: in 2015, management at Studio Nightclub & Lounge (“Studio”) in Vancouver granted police access to their BarWatch database in the course of a criminal investigation. The BC Supreme Court would later reject the evidence obtained by police from the database because police failed to obtain judicial authorization before requesting that Studio turn over its records from the night in question. The information gathered by police from the database was key to linking the alleged assailant to an act of violence in the Granville Entertainment District. The photographic information (connected to the accused’s name) turned over by Studio along with street surveillance footage taken of the suspect provided the police a reasonably clear picture of the accused’s footsteps on the night in question. According to the defence, this amounted to a breach of privacy and Charter rights. In providing its reasoning, the Court agreed: there was no evidence that Studio had affixed the necessary signage warning patrons about how the information obtained by BarWatch would be used or stored, and that the nature of the information collected by BarWatch afforded the accused a reasonably expectation of privacy. In conclusion, the Court found the accused not guilty because the police had violated the accused’s Charter rights by obtaining data from Studio’s BarWatch without a warrant.

Arguably, this finding may fall into a pattern of police activity that skirts the rule of law for the sake of convenience. Around 2013, a Freedom of Information Request revealed that the Victoria Police were encouraged to use BarWatch to track the movements of a suspicious individual. This is problematic because the BarWatch program is not designed to provide police with opportunities to retrospectively track citizens. When law enforcement engages in this kind of behavior, it raises serious legal and ethical concerns about the failure of public authorities to comply with provincial privacy legislation.

Nothing to Hide Argument

Much of the debate about the legalities of BarWatch seem to stem around the idea that “if you’ve got nothing to hide, you’ve got nothing to fear”. Notably, this same idea has been used to promote and legitimize the CCTV program practiced across the United Kingdom. Privacy advocates and data security experts alike have described the popularity of this idea as the belief that “the dominant orientation is that mechanisms of surveillance are directed at others”. In other words, most people wrongly assume that surveillance monitoring is not directed at them, but rather at some vaguely-defined societal subset comprised entirely of ill-intentioned delinquents. This suggests a lack of appreciation for the full scope of privacy rights which cannot technically be infringed upon without adequate justification.

In Conclusion

Over the past year, the pro-BarWatch community in Vancouver has unsuccessfully advocated for CCTV on Granville Street. BarWatch Vancouver has also recently announced a partnership with Vancouver Transit authorities to bar individuals who engage in problematic behavior on public transit from entering participant establishments. While police have argued that information would only be passed on from police to BarWatch if the public was at risk, the BC Civil Liberties Association has argued that this sounds “an awful lot like profiling people on transit to give information to a private entity”. This may spell the need for greater oversight over decision-making by BarWatch partners, especially if police are collecting and passing information to private organizations and other police departments for intelligence services. Arguably, if people behave egregiously and violently, there are adequate legal consequences in place to address and curb unwanted behavior without risking function creep. As it stands now, the BarWatch lobby is powerful and may continue to eat away at privacy rights for the foreseeable future.  

Further reading:

https://bc.ctvnews.ca/legal-advocates-concerned-over-transit-police-partnership-with-barwatch-1.4510588

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/code-of-conduct-granville-strip-1.4662910

https://www.martlet.ca/inside-b-c-s-barwatch-program/

https://www.nanaimo.ca/docs/doing-business/doing-business-with-the-city/bar-watch.pdf

https://vancouvercriminallaw.com/zh/is-information-obtained-from-nightclub-id-scanners-an-unfair-invasion-of-privacy/

https://www.ipc.on.ca/wp-content/uploads/Resources/pbd-surveillance.pdf

https://www.timescolonist.com/opinion/op-ed/comment-police-use-of-vehicle-bar-data-misguided-1.39429

[vaalkyrja-blog]

// Meta-a-day: tell me about how Zofian nobles show off their wealth, and aside from lineage, what other factors separate the nobles from the commoners?

ooc.

zofian displays of wealth

as much as the game tells us that zofia is across the board known for its leisure and plenty, and never having to work hard for anything, i think that this image actually is only perpetuated by the nobility. it’s clear in-game that the peasantry still works hard; alm talks about being handy with a plow, and those sheep in ram village aren’t going to milk themselves. even if mila provides a lot of bounty, it still takes human effort to actually obtain it by sowing crops, reaping harvest, etc. i don’t think that the hard-working villagers are only a product of the famine that’s been going on for two years by SoV — someone still has to farm, even in golden era times.

as a result, though, i think that zofian wealth display goes hand in hand with the idea of not working, because this helps to uphold the traditionally ‘zofian’ image of mila’s bounty. among the nobility, leisure pastimes are huge, and as much a presentation as they are an actual pastime. 

hunting for sport. zofian nobility often own vast amounts of privatized land ( clive and his four villas lmao ) and with that comes a lot of private hunting grounds that people do get jailed and fined for trespassing on, or hunting within. the game there is supposed to be solely for said nobleman’s use. though different nobles enjoying sport hunting to varying degrees, you’d be hard-pressed to find nobility that doesn’t own hunting dogs. breed and pedigree matter a lot here, and the dogs themselves are a symbol of wealth. more on that later.

sports such as dressage, pedigree showings, and horse races are also common in zofia among the upper class. in fact, i vaguely headcanon that dressage is one of the only ways that noblewomen are permitted to engage with horses beyond a purely aesthetic level, though it’s still considered a little strange. dog and cat shows are also common, and nobility who participate in these sports go a long way to not only make sure that the animal performs well, but also looks good; fortunes are spent on trappings and outfittings, and all sorts of fancy tools. there are books upon books on the subject. a lot of wealth display in zofia is centered around the idea of ‘how much money can i spend on stuff that isn’t  necessary to show that i don’t care about spending’.

on that note, certain animals are only owned by nobility — purebred dogs, for example, and horses. though horses certainly exist in villages and among commoners, they’re often very noticeably workhorses, and especially in villages, they don’t tend to belong to one specific person, since the upkeep for even one horse is very costly. nobility is often recognizable for owning fine horses of good lineage, and owning a lot of them, hence fernand: “i mounted my finest destrier and sped here as quickly as i could.” 

very importantly, only nobility are permitted to own warhorses of any kind; trainers are not permitted to sell horses bred and trained for anything related to battle to someone without the proper papers. this is to make sure that only nobility are able to become knights, which is something the game mentions. as a result, nobility are often depicted in portraits alongside a favored animal — often their finest hunting dog. the animal itself is an indicator of wealth and class.

i also have been thinking about how prior to the war, there was likely a holiday that the zofian nobility ( and to an extent, the middle-upper class ) celebrate which involves deliberate wastefulness. they’d gather together a bunch of stuff, the better quality the better, and burn it — clothing, food, silverware, etc. the point of it is to show that you’re so wealthy that you don’t even consider losing these things to be anything worth caring about. people noticed whichever house amassed the most things. it’s obvious why this was only done amidst the upper echelon, but the practice dwindled when mila left and the famine hit, and has probably since been dropped completely after the war as the nobility began to understand what it is to want for something.

wealth, of course, among the nobility, also manifests not only financially, but also as political power. the two are often directly correlated, but not always, and depends a lot more on influence and connections, as well as other forms of socio-economic monopoly. you can have a family that’s very wealthy financially, but if they don’t have assets or investments in the right places, they might not have a lot of political clout or leverage with which to sway the king. in some ways, political wealth matters more than financial wealth, and of course this is where the court games come into play.

difference between nobility vs. commoners

aside from the obvious blood lineage, there’s a whole lot that separates zofian nobility from commoners; in fact, they pretty much run in two entirely different spheres, and culturally they can even be vastly different. python points towards this incredibly wide gap when he says to clive that people born and raised in nobility just can’t ever hope to understand commoners, and vice versa, no matter how open-minded and egalitarian they might be. the lifestyles are just so vastly different.

one of the biggest cultural differences i think comes in the form of speech. it’s easy to see in the game, even, where that comes in — clair’s way of talking is an exaggerated form of noble rhetoric, but i think it’s actually what’s common in the circles she runs in. we should keep in mind that clive, mathilda, and fernand are nobles too, but in many ways they’re quite different from regular nobility. at the very least, they’ve been in the deliverance for this long, and have adapted their mannerisms to appeal to a wider audience. speech in the higher circles isn’t so much about what you’re saying as it is about how you’re saying it, and clair’s ‘fancy’ words and habit of speaking in third person and addressing others by epithets are likely a lot more emblematic of how the average zofian noble talks in court and at other social engagements.

class lines in zofia are also heavily drawn on the urban vs. rural line, as well; though nobles are decentralized around parts of zofia, urban areas tend to build up around noble places of residence — because of the heavy need for manpower within each house ( servants, etc. ), it’s natural that communities tend to form around the seat of nobility in each region. additionally, all high nobility have residences in the castle city around zofia castle ( which……is unnamed bc intsys likes to make my life hard idk, but is presumably the capital ) in order to attend court when it’s in session and also to just stay in the know. 

because of these aspects, nobility tends to be associated with urban lifestyles and culture, while commoners are associated with rural life. dialects are probably different as a result; nobility probably all speak relatively similarly, probably an ‘urban dialect’ with minor variations, while rural dialects can vary drastically, and what’s spoken near the mountain ranges probably sounds very different from what’s spoken elsewhere, etc. this is also why i think lukas gets so much flack for being “backwater nobility” — removed from metropolitan life and therefore uncultured, very literally situated amongst the commoners because of real, geographic location.

i also think that nobility and commoners probably view the mila faith differently and worship the zofian religion in different ways, actually. again, the game depicts zofians are being decadent and depraved, but realistically this probably only applies to nobility, or people who can afford to be decadent and wasteful. the mila faith among the upper classes tends to be about celebrating mila’s blessings with pleasure and leisure, because this is historically what mila wanted them to have — to lead lives of comfort and happiness. in this way, their worship verges more on what we see in SoV’s opening sequence, with wine and dancing and excessive food and riches. it’s all about just basking in decadence because you can, because this is what mila wanted for us. in this way, their faith much resembles dionysian worship practices.

in contrast, i think among the commoners, the focus is a lot more on being grateful for mila’s bounty and plenty, particularly focused around the harvest. there’s still a lot of food and drink and celebration, but it’s less about overindulgence and leisure and more about being grateful for what you have, sort of like the idea around thanksgiving. 

as mentioned before as well, only nobility are permitted to enter the knighthood, and i think traditionally, nobility are also the only ones allowed to assume high-ranking leadership positions in the military. there’s probably been more wiggle room for this over time, though, and there have definitely been cases where commoners have risen to become celebrated military leaders ( i’ll talk later about how i headcanon how mathilda’s house was one of these waaayy back in the day ), but this is still a rare occurrence, and the knighthood is still restricted to those ( men, usually ) of noble birth. this is why mycen had to be formally made a count by the king himself in order to be granted knighthood, though i think such an occurrence is very rare and — as fernand shows us — definitely looked down upon for not being traditional nobility by lineage.

#( this goes under a read more #cause it ended up being 1600 words #i am so sorry #as always other zofians can feel free to chime in ) #rigelsprince #( ✉ ) #⊰ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ⊱ | shieldmaiden .

[eggzy]

I’m honestly just dying to write somethingggg -- I’d really love a mumu?? maybe just two of us or throw in another person?? it could be anything from apartment wing, college roommates... riot club, a secret history, the raven boys..... rich kids???? or something supernatural maybe??? here’s some plot/connection ideas we could go for too!!

under the cut are the characters/faces in the mumu I’d be interested in playing.

IVAN BISHOP | janis ancens | 22-26 years old

his family has had money for decades bc they’ve always managed to deal with corrupt government officials and whatnot. the bishop family make profit off war/violence bc they sell weapons!! they tend to sell to both sides of wars, even if in secret!! 

um he’s a perfectionist. has to be the best at everything. everything. he was head boy in the private boarding school he attended, president of whatever fraternity that rich young men like him get into the kind with bad hazing and shit, was president of his university’s SGA, has perfect grades and a perfect record!!! he strives to be the best and ambition has taken him far. he doesn’t just rely on his family but the name does open A LOT of doors for him

he’s very stoic but can charm the pants off people!! but he’s very manipulative in this, can often get people to do what he wants. he once had his whole fraternity turn against this kid on campus who was running against him for SGA… he’s got a real cruel streak. hope you never see it. ://

he’s like ALLLLMOST greysexual but he still likes the act of sex from time to time. its hard to catch him with his guard down. doesn’t have a good relationship with either of his parents. mother cheats while away at one of their many beach condos. father is absent, busy with work && hunting. he’s good at gaslighting ivan so, as you can imagine, the boy has some real daddy issues.

he has younger brother and sister who are twins!! they’re about middle school aged and super smart and talented, as is the Bishop way lol

MALLORY LEWIS | nicola peltz | 21-23 years old

so mal is an only child and her young parents were very excited to have a girl, especially her mother. she was pretty much a tiny doll in her mother’s eyes. she was an only child and the woman saw her daughter as something to dress up and parade around rather than really take care of. so, unsurprisingly, she’s been to a decent amount of pageants, a few Ws under her belt, in fact.

her parents got divorced when she was three! the highschool sweethearts didn’t last but five years! and so she was never really close with her father because her mother monopolized her time. she grew pretty resentful towards him as she got older because of their lack of time together and because he never really tried to see her or get her away from her mother. after a while, her father didn’t even try  to stay in touch. he helped a bit with expenses for a time but once he was remarried, there was no hearing from him.

mal was primarily raised by her mother who jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend and husband to husband!! when she was especially young, there were a lot of boundary lines that were blurred between her and her mother. she slept in bed with her until she was nine, she wouldn’t ever be far from her. her mother would get them matching outfits and she’d always do mal’s hair, make sure she was perfect, and she had to be exactly the way that her mother wanted her to be. no questions.

so being left alone with her mother and being groomed by her mother alone, she kind of became a mini version of her!! she didn’t care about anything other than getting what she wanted. men were tools. they were just bank accounts and pretty things to surround herself with. if she wanted it, she could get it – she knew what her appearance did to others, men especially. ever so manipulative, she has her own harem of men, ages all varying from twenties to sixties, that she spends her time with. she’s easily a homewrecker to a handful of relationships out there.

she relies on some of her daddies forreal though because between them and hustling, she can only resort to criminal acts to support herself!

“GK” STARR | madison mclaughlin | 19-23 years old

my baby is like the human form of peach tea. is that weird to say? gk is a super sweetheart and most people genuinely like her when they meet her. she makes it easy, bc she’s bit of a pushover and people-pleaser so she gets walked on a lot. still learning how to stand up for herself!!

she’s an art freak. loves oil painting the most as that’s the one she’s more experienced with. learning how to use water colors and gouache just as well. wants to be graphic designer one day!!

with a short and small stature, most underestimate her, if not all who cencounter her. she is no impressive figure, by any means, so her goal of becoming a superhero seems farfetched to many. with the appearance of such fragility, gk attracts those who wish to protect without meaning to, often due to her size. her skin is very tanned with a decently clear complexion as she still struggles with acne and such occasionally. freckles are scattered across the bridge of her nose and over the tips of her shoulders. A dark mole is one of her most striking features, location just under her right eye.

gk is very friendly and very loud. so basically, one of those people who just makes themselves known, no matter the room they enter into. very much a people-person, loves to be in the company of anyone, even strangers. she’s extremely naive, so constantly people are using her for her powers, abusing her kindness and willingness to help. questions are constantly on her tongue, because she doesn’t know about anything and is so very curious! she’s not everyone’s cup of tea, that’s for sure – but she’ll never know unless you tell her upfront, she’s very oblivious at times.

gk stands for georgia katherine, so as you can imagine she’s pretty southern. her accent is thick like molasses!! her family moved here from louisiana about five years ago. it had been a tough move and she struggled for a bit, bc people aren’t always kind and the starrs aren’t necessarily well off. they’re barely pushing by, one might say.

TRENTON LEROY | chris wood | 20-25 years old

CHILD ABUSE TW, VIOLENCE TW, MENTAL ILLNESS TW

so like!! trenton is from lyon, france! he has a SLIGHT accent but its not strong anymore because he hasn’t been back to france in like ten years.

his mother and father are not married. he was born out of wedlock because his mother was his father’s mistress. the man left after the idea of trenton was even mentioned. he was a married man with hands in politics, he couldn’t afford to have this out.

so labeaux family paid off the leroy family, sending money every month to keep them quiet.

the leroy family is kind of a TRASHY family living in the countryside near lyon. it was just trenton, his mother, grandmother and uncle. a small family that lived on the checks sent by a man worlds away.

he adored his mother more than any person!! like almost an obsession!! but thats because out of that house, she was the only one to ever show him kindness. his grandmother and uncle both were quite unkind to him, blaming him for their misfortunes and taking out their stress. unfortunately, his mother left the family and ran off with a boyfriend. trenton was only seven at the time but the sense of loneliness and abandonment following her departure REALLY affected him in ways that weren’t good. and the abuse he took from other family members only pushed him further.

his father took an interest back into his life at age twelve, realizing that the boy was his only current heir. he quickly took the boy from that house and placed him into a boarding school in england to learn everything from ENGLISH itself to business and other ways of the world.

the setting wasn’t much better tbh!! he was mistreated by older kids for a while, bullied for a variety of things until he finally shot up between age 15 & 16. he really grew into his awkward limbs, a charming face to match!! it was a surprise to everyone that the awkward boy had transformed into that. trenton started to get attention he had never received before. and it delighted him. but he didn’t know how to handle it.

he began abusing his friends, girlfriends… anyone who was close to him. violence was the ONLY language he would ever be fluent in – his family made sure of that.

when he graduated, he was a shadow of the boy he once was. dark and twisted with desires that no good person should have. but still he passed it off like a charm, being the perfect son that his father had never wanted.

trenton was moved to be with his father for a few years, learning the ways of the family business and politics. the drastic change didn’t go well for him...

but eventually everything got to him and he SNAPPED. the incident had him sent away once more but this time to a mental institution on the west coast. he was heavily guarded secret so no one really knew where he disappeared to. his father only claimed traveling the world.

FOX KINSLEY | matt hitt | 19-22 years old

ALCOHOLISM TW, DRUGS TW

okay so this is atticus fawkes kinsley!! he goes by fox because he hates those names and he’s bitter af towards his family right now.

his dad lost his dream job when fox was about ten or so and he took to the bottle and stayed with it. he wasn’t abusive or anything, just yelled sometimes. Mostly laid around the house, sulking. he’s attempted other jobs, but it always ends up with him fired because of a DUI or something. so that’s where fox got most of his lazy traits from

his mom is this SUPER ambitious woman who’s really great honestly but she really cares about how people view her. so witnessing her husband in the state he was in really embarrassed her?? that destroyed their relationship. she thinks pretty lowly of the man. they fought A LOT. after the man’s fourth DUI in two years, she left.

she tried to convince fox to come with her, but he refused. he didn’t like the idea of abandoning his father. they used to be really close once. :’) so she left seventeen year old fox as well and took his sister to live with her parents for a while.

fox and his father did okay for a year or so. it was a bit rough because he had to get a shitty job with shitty hours to handle the bills and stuff. because good ole dad was still just doing his thing, drinking himself silly and sleeping at the oddest hours. fox had to leave on his last year of high school, which at the time didn’t bother him. but now, he’s starting to regret that more and more.

he’s a stoner through and through. mostly just sticks to weed. he’s really sloping down that path towards harder drugs though so he wears long sleeves occasionally to cover track marks.

things started to get really shitty one late saturday night when he returned after a double at work to find the house empty. only a note from his father, detailing that he needed to find himself and work out his problems on his own, was left. it fucked him up.

the loneliness and desperation he’ll never forget. it’s been carved into his bones and burned into his skin. he’ll never forget that pain. and because of that, he’s very very bitter. he’s been going out and partying doing every drug you can imagine. trying to destroy himself for the past year. sick, unhealthy living.

he’s still working at the gas station, still manning the slushie machines even if he has no one to go home to. no one to teach him how to be an adult in the real world.

WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR:

maybe like more family members? mother/father... sister/brother??? rival family??  platonic to romantic relationships! any and all connections!!

ANGST. DRAMA. PAIN. 

all faceclaims, for the most part, can be changed if my partner has a problem with any of them!!

a partner that can put up with me and my work/lazy schedule! I’ve been dying to write and rps are just dwindling around here so they’re just not gonna cut it... but I’m determined to have this plot because I NEEEED the creative outlet.

#1x1 plot #mumu plot #mumu rp #1x1 rp #mumu roleplay #1x1 roleplay

[legalseat]

Danger Ahead: Weed, Driving and Policing Alternatives

Canadians are funny; they will rally in their thousands against the hazards of gun ownership, denounce occurrences of hate speech, and show outpourings of support for bullied children in our schools. Yet, every year, so many of us, including some of the very same individuals who decry the above wrongs, choose to get behind the wheel of a motor vehicle while impaired. Often nothing comes of it; person X makes it from point A to point B without incident. Until one day they do not. On that day, the consequences can be tragic, and often not for the individual whose decisions led to the tragedy. Impaired driving is a serious problem and it needs to be addressed. Legalization of Cannabis has rendered this problem even more pressing, while at the same time introducing additional tools to combat it.

The following blog responds to and builds off of the findings of Solomon, Chamberlain and Vandenberghe [the authors] in their paper published in the Canadian Criminal Law Review.1 It is a very interesting article that examines some of the statistics related to impaired driving, particularly cannabis impairment, and makes some predictions about the effectiveness of Canada’s new legislative scheme. In short, the authors predict a rise in cannabis-related impaired driving and a modest strengthening of enforcement. The main barrier to improved enforcement identified is the lack of quick, affordable and reliable cannabis screening equipment. After considering some of the authors’ findings in greater detail, I propose (in broad terms) an alternative approach to the policing of impaired driving, where the focus is on the driving ability of individuals, and it is this that forms the basis for a charge against them.

Data from the United States suggests that legalization will lead to a significant increase in cannabis-impaired driving in Canada. In Colorado, large-scale commercialization of medical cannabis was followed by a 70% increase in drivers involved in fatal accidents testing positive for the drug, while in Washington State the number of such drivers more than doubled after legalization.2 To help combat this, the legalization scheme established by Parliament included several changes to impaired driving laws. Included amongst these are three new driving offences based on blood-THC content and expanded police powers to demand bodily samples for analysis or submit to a Drug Recognition Evaluation (DRE).3 Additions and alterations were also made to the existing impaired driving framework, the most significant of which address evidentiary matters.4 The authors delve into greater detail, and there is ample material relating to these developments available from other sources. For the present purposes, the take away is that legalization, arguably, can be expected to result in an increase in cannabis-impaired driving, and that the Parliament is attempting to address this through creating new offences, expanding police powers and making it easier for the Crown to meet its evidentiary burden in such cases.

Parliament’s actions need to be taken in context. As was established above, impaired driving is a significant problem that can lead to dire consequences for Canadians. I doubt anyone could seriously debate this point, and it is further borne out by the statistics presented by the authors. However, most criminal activities are serious, and carry serious consequences. Although the impaired driver is an unsympathetic accused, the legislative response to the issue of policing cannabis and impaired driving should be considered with caution. Every expansion of police powers carries with it a corresponding reduction in individuals’ rights. Any easing of the evidentiary burden on the Crown bears with it an increased risk to the accused. These are not always negative developments; indeed they are sometimes necessary. However, they must be considered with great care, lest the protections of the law for the individual against the incomparably powerful state be gradually eroded.

The authors raise several points which should cause us to question the government's present approach to the impaired driving issue. First, traditional approaches to policing impaired driving are hardly bullet-proof. A recent BC study referenced by the authors indicated that officers were failing to detect drug-positive drivers involved in accidents at an alarmingly high rate.5 Second, there is evidence that field sobriety tests, of the sort used to assess potential alcohol-impaired drivers, are far less effective at assessing drug impairment, and may produce a high rate of false-positives.6 The authors also noted that the field sobriety test and DRE process is lengthy, highly technical, has a high training cost with relatively few officers qualified to administer it, and is less effective at assessing certain drugs. In one DRE study, the presence of cannabis was only accurately predicted 79.1% of the time.7

Beyond the accuracy issues that come with the present methods of impairment detection, there is little data on the relationship between DRE results and impairment of driving skills. These evidentiary issues have not escaped the notice of courts, whose skepticism of such methods is effectively demonstrated by the authors in their quotation of R v Abbasi-Rad, 2016 ONCJ 542.8 On the authors’ view, this skepticism is reflected in the length, cost, complexity and uncertainty of drug-impaired prosecutions. In 2015, 59% of police reported drug-impaired driving incidents and 71% of alcohol incidents were cleared by charge. The median length of drug and alcohol impaired cases were 227 and 121 days, respectively. In 2014/2015, 81% of alcohol impaired cases completed in court resulted in a guilty disposition, as did 61% of drug impaired cases.9 On top of all of these issues, the methods already in place appear to have had no appreciable deterrent effect.10

These numbers tell a sobering story about the difficulties associated with present methods of policing impaired driving, especially where impairment is drug-related. Present approaches are expensive, inefficient, open to legal challenge and uncertain in outcome. Through the Cannabis Act and the Transportation Act, Parliament seems to be expressing that expanded police search powers, offences targeting drug use rather than impairment, and new, Crown-favourable rules of evidence are the answer. In light of these facts, it is incumbent upon us to question whether this truly is the best approach to policing impaired driving.

I would suggest that we may be able to approach this problem in a different way altogether. The underlying theme that unites all of the challenges in policing impaired driving is discerning and proving impairment. However, fundamentally, impairment is not the evil that the law is seeking to prevent. Rather, it is the inadequate and unsafe driving that flows from impairment that is the real concern. Perhaps more could be gained by shifting the focus of policing away from detecting and prosecuting impairment, and toward identifying and prosecuting unsafe driving practices on the road, regardless of the underlying cause of such practices.

Such an approach would remove as an issue the concern of the court in R v Abbasi-Rad, vis a vis the lack of proven relationship DRE results and driving skills. It would almost certainly be cheaper and easier to train and equip police officers to identify and prove unsafe driving than impairment. This would not require any searches, negating the need for expanded police powers and unbalanced evidence rules. Money going into technical training and testing equipment could instead be used to put dash-cams or other recording equipment into all police vehicles, for example, so that officers could readily provide a visual record of the impugned conduct. This type of approach would also encourage more active patrol-based policing, rather than setting up check-stops at choke-point and high-traffic areas. As the authors noted, present methods of catching impaired driving are of negligible effectiveness when compared to the frequency of the crime. According to the numbers they presented, an estimated 10.4 million trips were made by drivers after using cannabis in 2012, but only 1140 drivers were charged with drug-impaired driving offences that year.11 Perhaps check-stops are the more effective method of catching and preventing impaired driving, but considering the above numbers, there is much more to gain than there is to lose by trying a new method of policing.

An approach focused on detecting and punishing improper driving, rather than impairment, would also be less likely to result in a wrongful conviction. The signs of improper driving are much clearer, and less specific to the individual. One of the problems with the present approach to impaired driving offences, particularly those which prohibit certain blood-chemical levels, is that an individual’s driving ability is not necessarily impaired at that level. This is particularly true of the new 2 ng limit for blood-THC.12 These types of individualized, medical and scientific issues are sidestepped entirely by focusing on driver conduct. It is much easier to debate legally the quality and safety of an individual’s driving than it is to determine an individual’s level of impairment.

None of this is to suggest that such a shift would not come with its own share of problems. There may be difficulties in structuring such an approach. Deciding where the line is between acceptable and unacceptable driving may also be challenging, as could establishing sufficient patrol density to be effective. Once again, however, I think that it is worth attempting. As the numbers above show, present approaches to policing impaired driving are simply not very effective, at any stage. Before we risk upsetting the delicate balance between effective policing and individual rights, all options ought to be considered. Difficult though it may be, it may be time to admit that the Canadian justice system is trying to put in a screw with a hammer in its approach to policing impaired driving. Maybe, instead of simply grabbing a bigger hammer, it is time that we rummaged through the toolbox for something more effective. Perhaps that means adopting the type of approach I suggest; perhaps it means taking some other approach altogether. Regardless, given the findings of the authors above, it is a discussion that ought to be had.

Endnotes

1 R. Solomon, E. Chamberlain, M. Vandenberghe, “Canada's New Cannabis-Related Driving Legislation: The Elusive Quest for an Effective Deterrent”, (2018) 23 Can Crim LR 265.

2 Ibid, at 273-274.

3 Ibid at 285-286.

4 Ibid, at 284.

5 Ibid at 276-277.

6 Ibid at 277.

7 Ibid at 279-280.

8 Ibid at 281.

9 Ibid at 282.

10 Ibid at 283.

11 Ibid at 282-283.

12 Ibid at 285.

Danger Ahead: Weed, Driving and Policing Alternatives published first on https://divorcelawyermumbai.tumblr.com/

[legalroll]

Danger Ahead: Weed, Driving and Policing Alternatives

Canadians are funny; they will rally in their thousands against the hazards of gun ownership, denounce occurrences of hate speech, and show outpourings of support for bullied children in our schools. Yet, every year, so many of us, including some of the very same individuals who decry the above wrongs, choose to get behind the wheel of a motor vehicle while impaired. Often nothing comes of it; person X makes it from point A to point B without incident. Until one day they do not. On that day, the consequences can be tragic, and often not for the individual whose decisions led to the tragedy. Impaired driving is a serious problem and it needs to be addressed. Legalization of Cannabis has rendered this problem even more pressing, while at the same time introducing additional tools to combat it.

The following blog responds to and builds off of the findings of Solomon, Chamberlain and Vandenberghe [the authors] in their paper published in the Canadian Criminal Law Review.1 It is a very interesting article that examines some of the statistics related to impaired driving, particularly cannabis impairment, and makes some predictions about the effectiveness of Canada’s new legislative scheme. In short, the authors predict a rise in cannabis-related impaired driving and a modest strengthening of enforcement. The main barrier to improved enforcement identified is the lack of quick, affordable and reliable cannabis screening equipment. After considering some of the authors’ findings in greater detail, I propose (in broad terms) an alternative approach to the policing of impaired driving, where the focus is on the driving ability of individuals, and it is this that forms the basis for a charge against them.

Data from the United States suggests that legalization will lead to a significant increase in cannabis-impaired driving in Canada. In Colorado, large-scale commercialization of medical cannabis was followed by a 70% increase in drivers involved in fatal accidents testing positive for the drug, while in Washington State the number of such drivers more than doubled after legalization.2 To help combat this, the legalization scheme established by Parliament included several changes to impaired driving laws. Included amongst these are three new driving offences based on blood-THC content and expanded police powers to demand bodily samples for analysis or submit to a Drug Recognition Evaluation (DRE).3 Additions and alterations were also made to the existing impaired driving framework, the most significant of which address evidentiary matters.4 The authors delve into greater detail, and there is ample material relating to these developments available from other sources. For the present purposes, the take away is that legalization, arguably, can be expected to result in an increase in cannabis-impaired driving, and that the Parliament is attempting to address this through creating new offences, expanding police powers and making it easier for the Crown to meet its evidentiary burden in such cases.

Parliament’s actions need to be taken in context. As was established above, impaired driving is a significant problem that can lead to dire consequences for Canadians. I doubt anyone could seriously debate this point, and it is further borne out by the statistics presented by the authors. However, most criminal activities are serious, and carry serious consequences. Although the impaired driver is an unsympathetic accused, the legislative response to the issue of policing cannabis and impaired driving should be considered with caution. Every expansion of police powers carries with it a corresponding reduction in individuals’ rights. Any easing of the evidentiary burden on the Crown bears with it an increased risk to the accused. These are not always negative developments; indeed they are sometimes necessary. However, they must be considered with great care, lest the protections of the law for the individual against the incomparably powerful state be gradually eroded.

The authors raise several points which should cause us to question the government's present approach to the impaired driving issue. First, traditional approaches to policing impaired driving are hardly bullet-proof. A recent BC study referenced by the authors indicated that officers were failing to detect drug-positive drivers involved in accidents at an alarmingly high rate.5 Second, there is evidence that field sobriety tests, of the sort used to assess potential alcohol-impaired drivers, are far less effective at assessing drug impairment, and may produce a high rate of false-positives.6 The authors also noted that the field sobriety test and DRE process is lengthy, highly technical, has a high training cost with relatively few officers qualified to administer it, and is less effective at assessing certain drugs. In one DRE study, the presence of cannabis was only accurately predicted 79.1% of the time.7

Beyond the accuracy issues that come with the present methods of impairment detection, there is little data on the relationship between DRE results and impairment of driving skills. These evidentiary issues have not escaped the notice of courts, whose skepticism of such methods is effectively demonstrated by the authors in their quotation of R v Abbasi-Rad, 2016 ONCJ 542.8 On the authors’ view, this skepticism is reflected in the length, cost, complexity and uncertainty of drug-impaired prosecutions. In 2015, 59% of police reported drug-impaired driving incidents and 71% of alcohol incidents were cleared by charge. The median length of drug and alcohol impaired cases were 227 and 121 days, respectively. In 2014/2015, 81% of alcohol impaired cases completed in court resulted in a guilty disposition, as did 61% of drug impaired cases.9 On top of all of these issues, the methods already in place appear to have had no appreciable deterrent effect.10

These numbers tell a sobering story about the difficulties associated with present methods of policing impaired driving, especially where impairment is drug-related. Present approaches are expensive, inefficient, open to legal challenge and uncertain in outcome. Through the Cannabis Act and the Transportation Act, Parliament seems to be expressing that expanded police search powers, offences targeting drug use rather than impairment, and new, Crown-favourable rules of evidence are the answer. In light of these facts, it is incumbent upon us to question whether this truly is the best approach to policing impaired driving.

I would suggest that we may be able to approach this problem in a different way altogether. The underlying theme that unites all of the challenges in policing impaired driving is discerning and proving impairment. However, fundamentally, impairment is not the evil that the law is seeking to prevent. Rather, it is the inadequate and unsafe driving that flows from impairment that is the real concern. Perhaps more could be gained by shifting the focus of policing away from detecting and prosecuting impairment, and toward identifying and prosecuting unsafe driving practices on the road, regardless of the underlying cause of such practices.

Such an approach would remove as an issue the concern of the court in R v Abbasi-Rad, vis a vis the lack of proven relationship DRE results and driving skills. It would almost certainly be cheaper and easier to train and equip police officers to identify and prove unsafe driving than impairment. This would not require any searches, negating the need for expanded police powers and unbalanced evidence rules. Money going into technical training and testing equipment could instead be used to put dash-cams or other recording equipment into all police vehicles, for example, so that officers could readily provide a visual record of the impugned conduct. This type of approach would also encourage more active patrol-based policing, rather than setting up check-stops at choke-point and high-traffic areas. As the authors noted, present methods of catching impaired driving are of negligible effectiveness when compared to the frequency of the crime. According to the numbers they presented, an estimated 10.4 million trips were made by drivers after using cannabis in 2012, but only 1140 drivers were charged with drug-impaired driving offences that year.11 Perhaps check-stops are the more effective method of catching and preventing impaired driving, but considering the above numbers, there is much more to gain than there is to lose by trying a new method of policing.

An approach focused on detecting and punishing improper driving, rather than impairment, would also be less likely to result in a wrongful conviction. The signs of improper driving are much clearer, and less specific to the individual. One of the problems with the present approach to impaired driving offences, particularly those which prohibit certain blood-chemical levels, is that an individual’s driving ability is not necessarily impaired at that level. This is particularly true of the new 2 ng limit for blood-THC.12 These types of individualized, medical and scientific issues are sidestepped entirely by focusing on driver conduct. It is much easier to debate legally the quality and safety of an individual’s driving than it is to determine an individual’s level of impairment.

None of this is to suggest that such a shift would not come with its own share of problems. There may be difficulties in structuring such an approach. Deciding where the line is between acceptable and unacceptable driving may also be challenging, as could establishing sufficient patrol density to be effective. Once again, however, I think that it is worth attempting. As the numbers above show, present approaches to policing impaired driving are simply not very effective, at any stage. Before we risk upsetting the delicate balance between effective policing and individual rights, all options ought to be considered. Difficult though it may be, it may be time to admit that the Canadian justice system is trying to put in a screw with a hammer in its approach to policing impaired driving. Maybe, instead of simply grabbing a bigger hammer, it is time that we rummaged through the toolbox for something more effective. Perhaps that means adopting the type of approach I suggest; perhaps it means taking some other approach altogether. Regardless, given the findings of the authors above, it is a discussion that ought to be had.

Endnotes

1 R. Solomon, E. Chamberlain, M. Vandenberghe, “Canada's New Cannabis-Related Driving Legislation: The Elusive Quest for an Effective Deterrent”, (2018) 23 Can Crim LR 265.

2 Ibid, at 273-274.

3 Ibid at 285-286.

4 Ibid, at 284.

5 Ibid at 276-277.

6 Ibid at 277.

7 Ibid at 279-280.

8 Ibid at 281.

9 Ibid at 282.

10 Ibid at 283.

11 Ibid at 282-283.

12 Ibid at 285.

Danger Ahead: Weed, Driving and Policing Alternatives published first on https://medium.com/@SanAntonioAttorney

[letterdrill08-blog]

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[nchyinotes]

the future of wikipedia (katherine maher & lucy crompton-reid)

February 3 2018

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/the-future-of-wikipedia-tickets-42271530285# 

Thoughts: So this was kind of my first foray into open knowledge/culture, and there were two parts to this day - the first was learning about wikidata and how to query it and contribute to it. This was pretty cool and actually what I had initially signed up for because I want to get out of my comfort zone/learn a new skill for research, but I did feel a little over my head haha. The second part I actually just found out about on the day, and stayed for. This was a talk about the future of Wikipedia, and it sounds pretty awesome tbh. I came in knowing nothing about Wikipedia, how it works as an organisation (it’s a non profit!), or how the site is maintained or who contributes, or what its missions are. Katherine is a great speaker. And while the talk was obviously very specific to Wikipedia, I think I was able to learn about all sorts of topics I’m interested in - how NGOs operate and are funded, how huge collaborative projects work, acknowledgment of and potential solutions to structural barriers that promote limited diversity in contributors of the collaborative projects, the bias that results from this, the impact of new technology, and their vision and belief in the public good of open knowledge. Was a very well spent day for me.

lucy

global movement for open knowledge

non profit

free and open access to info/knowledge = driver of social/cultural/economic development, fundamental right

work with cultural + educational organisations to enable them to contribute to a democratic understanding of the world

3 programs:

1) diversify editing community + content

not reaching + representing every community, voice, sum of human knowledge

gender gap, minorities

2) promoting open knowledge

3) education and learning

reach and impact?

metrics: people we reach, editors we have, ??

social bias + impact? how open knowledge genuinely improves society

katherine

wikimedia is based in san fran

300 people at the foundation, all over the world

“a world in which every single human can share in the sum of all knowledge” - aspirational statement, room for everyone to participate (+ create knowledge), not just consume

asymptotic, active

the more info on wikipedia, the better resource it’ll be

people who contribute to wikipedia, if they come with a partisan view over time become more neutral

wikidata (structured and linked data), wikimedia commons, DBpedia

populations are shrinking - japan, russia, europe - where wikimedia is well known + prominent

sub saharan africa

means of knowledge production hase been changing over time

the way we consume, faith / trust / research in institutions is on decline and shifting into influencers/personal trust networks, interfaces are changing (go beyond browser)

internet: info —> communication medium

native > additive experience in their lives

how do we want to evolve in response to the way world is changing?

hopes + fears for free knowledge

wikimedians

talked to experts (futurists, technologists, policy, arts, etc) - how they anticipate the change to be

what did we learn?

knowledge gaps + biases = highest concern

wikimedia doesn’t serve the entire world (language coverage, breadth of coverage, representative)

structural inequality prevents us from achieving ^ mission

who is creating the reliable sources that wikimedia relies on?

adapt to world’s changing knowledge needs

leverage new technology (video? open ML?)

more people in institutions (science, cultural, edu) want to join but dk how

direction:

becoming an essential infrastructure of the ecosystem of free knowledge

anyone who shares our vision will be able to join us (barriers)

knowledge as service - how to serve more people, ??

knowledge equity - ensure that info that exists doesn’t just have large numbers but a breadth and depth that is truly reflective of the world and serves it in a meaningful way

Panel

at a personal level, what do you want to see for open knowledge by 2030?

more people to know what open knowledge means

successful in communicating value of what this means to a broader audience

more entities participating, the more healthy the ecosystem is

—> advancing the concept of it

structural barriers that exist?

leisure time, literacy, gender inequity, marginalised communities are not usually secondary sources because historically haven’t been able to challenge dominant narrative — still replicating canon (way they evaluate sources, relies on means of knowledge production which is very traditional)

awareness, access (affordability)

where in that hierarchy do we sit?

balloons for the internet (some big tech companies ??)

incentivising local language production?

how to identify these gaps / barriers and breaking them down so more people can participate

notability? deletionism? guidelines as a community, when they’re appropriate? where to strike that balance to make sure it’s accurate + reliable, but also easy to contribute.

community conversation

oral citation? how to rely on this, which is far more prevalent than we give it affordance for

what does notability look like in a community, language, culture? their own validation methods within different areas?

NYT - considered newspaper of record? lawsuit in california by gay softball league of san Francisco. NYT wrote about the case, but never mentioned their ethnicity. everyone that wasn’t decided gay was POC. — active exclusion happening in sources we think are reliable. what are our paradigms for liability anyway? even though that was the crux of the issue of the case.

hidden, implicit bias

fake news

how we enable people to be more aware of bias (not our own, but in interpreting/analysing the media and recognising it)? how important that foundation has a educational ???

should wikipedia position itself as alternative to mainstream media?

wikipedia ranked more trustworthy than BBC, 1 survey, by 2 points —> horrifying

wikipedia relies on secondary sources. if trustworthiness in BBC declines, that’s bad for wikipedia!

i want you to use wikipedia, but you need to ask those questions and CHECK CITATIONS to become a participant and not a consumer - be a critical reader

what can we do to advocate on the need for media literacy, more funding for research??

engage with educators, learners (and not just uni) - how to google stuff, read + edit wikipedia

wales community!

investment in science community - impact of brexit?

wikimedia engaging in the culture community - partnership with cultural + educational institutions

how is scientific information actually diffused in society?

natural partner for us

how do we bring that community into the wikidata community?

corresponding investment in open science

working with researchers / research community

lots of communities struggle with open data structure, how to maintain catalogues, etc - we are building the tools that do that, but not thinking of it as tools beyond wikimedia. wiki base can be used as an asset by so many other institutions - more info to be available to the world, helping other orgs, etc. —> makes everything better for everyone

automation of content creation?

vietnamese - automated almost all stubs?

stub articles = incentives to create (what is this - short wikimedia article)

wikimedia is fundamentally a human pursuit

machines can augment human work in ways that can be quite helpful - washing machine

multilingual people!

entirety of the ecosystem and identify gaps across all language communities we have

who decides what those gaps are?

opp of wikidata to reveal that

resources - implicit in convo - the fact that there are so many resources invested in western world + global north, what do we need to do to create equity ?

tremendous asymmetry - agency, power in decision making

when they see problems, wikimedians are highly incentivised to make a change

all the more reason to have more voices in the room

1) "human project" - neural machine translation, challenges of ML and machine content creation. challenges of people knowing about machines involvement (turing test?)

ML already exists on wikipedia

how do we use it in a way that’s consistent with our values

3 things

it has to be open - difficult in AI, because transparency doesn’t mean much bc we can’t think the way machines do. intention, legibility, explainability - why was this software made, what should it achieve

inclusivity - biases in datasets we’re training. open, transparent around datasets using

can receive feedback from public

consent - making sure people working on projects consent to the way ML is being used in projects, know how/why it’s happening [ no one wants something being done to them]

2) future financial sustainability of the movement

71.6M USD to keep foundation running this year

very little money for world’s 5th most popular website

created an endowment in last two years - trying to raise significant one to protect it into the future

even if cannot build on it, want to keep it at least open

what resources we require to keep this running into future? gap between where we are and want to be? sustainability in long run?

model is amazing, no one owns it bc of open licensing, building a life long relationship with people for what wikimedia stands for

3) china

blocked in china

people don’t write in chinese only in china - from variety of places in the world

we want to be there for when we’re unblocked, ready + present for chinese public to have access in meaningful way

deliberately trying to effect policy in org to support the description of these things in public? significant portions of UK not represented in publicly meaningful sense. difficult for wikimedia to address that issue.

rural-urban gap in wikipedia bc of nature of secondary sources, media

concentrates around population density, where communities not urban are not represented

even within communities in city - marginalised communities are not recorded in

who creates culture? it just is, what we live.

stuart hall - nature of who creates culture and where it comes from, production of culture (high brow > the one we all live, which isn’t documented)

oral citation project in india - traditional game kids play, no ones ever written it down

daily lived culture is not good at documenting, haven’t found way to address this

reflection of the world

what does knowledge equity really mean? and how do we program for it?

when thinking about core articles, how to raise quality of those and to keep them relevant?

tool - ores?? to evaluate article quality

opp to see what those gaps are, assess in more automated way, based on verifiability (not just density of info)

build tools to help editors maintenance function, or where quality gaps are, so there’s a continuous effort to update + maintain them

can do this not just for one language, but for all

project tiger - with google. how to identify main drivers of traffic (specific pages etc), and make sure the quality is good, and point people to work on that.

worried about losing relevance in the future? things to do to stay relevant?

we don’t know why people leave / fall out of contributor pipe line

give ourselves metrics to be able to evaluate that, so we can focus on retention as priority

rateability -

no one knows that simple english wikipedia exists!

how it’s being utilised by third party reusers

the way we’re composing info so that it becomes reusable! that it offers a service - answers the question, solves the problem

broken connection - maintaining consistency between wikimedian + re users. complying with licensing terms?

Seeing the work you’ve done being credited - for retention.

why based in US?

affordances from a policy POV that do not exist in other places in the world (USA) - hosting controversial or illegal content

intermediary liability protections (nuisance lawsuit)

rotating figureheads of leadership?

awareness + participation

knowledge equity as a priority, yet to determine how that looks like and what changes we need to implement to get there

global secretariat that could be stationed around ??

recently identified 6 countries where there is gap between awareness and ??potential - india, nigeria, iraq

marketing - in language of the community, “awareness raising videos”, ads written by communities themselves

changing what we think contribution + dedication looks like?

data typology on wikipedia that presents different types of data ?? presenting as much info in symbolic / visual forms?

multimedia integration

blockchain?

generally don’t think it’s good for wikipedia (from engineers)

persistence of information - revision history, revisions

feels like a diversion from existing stack

lots of arab wikimedians to be are refugees, with videos, names, locations, sitting on so much data that they want to put on open source etc. lack workshops in camps, any way to get into camps?

how to seek external funding on migrant communities?

big funder didn’t recognise that digitisation of stuff and getting it onto wikipedia was cultural preservation

institutional POV: do they actually want us to come in?

cultural heritage component

wiki loves africa + wiki med + wiki deutschland - building offline editing environments?

when there’s momentum as a community —> generally leads to structure

#wikipedia #open knowledge #tech #digital society #2018 #london #event

[cry-stal-108-blog]

What the heck is Bitcoin, The best way Is It Not like "Real" Capital and How Can one Get Some?

Bitcoin is a internet currency. That exist from the kind of actual form which the currency plus coin you're used to really exist in. Quite simple even are available in a kind as real as Monopoly money. It could electrons instructions not compounds.

But contemplate how much cash you actually personally tackle. You get a paycheque that you take on the bank aid or really autodeposited while not you quite possibly seeing often the paper it's certainly caused by not printed out on. Then you definitely use a credit card (or a checkbook, if you're good old school) to view those cash. At best, there is 10% of the usb ports in a income form as part of your pocket or simply in your pocket. So , it is well known that 70% of the resources that you afford are exclusive - electrons in a list or collection.

But delay - those people are Ough. S. finances (or your whatever united states you originate from), safe and sound in the traditional bank and sure by the 100 % faith with the FDIC nearly about $250K per bill, right? Good, not exactly. Your individual financial institution might required to always keep 10% involving its stores on money. In some cases, they have less. The idea lends your money to other people for an estimated 30 years. The item charges these folks for the mortgage loan, and charge for the allowance of permitting them to lend it.

How does income get established?

Your standard bank gets to set up money by simply lending it.

Say people deposit $1, 000 with all your bank. Then they lend available $900 than me. Suddenly you have got $1000 and also someone else features $900. Amazingly, there's $1900 floating around everywhere before there seems to be only a lavish.

Now express your loan company instead boosts 900 from your dollars to an alternative bank. Of which bank sequentially lends $810 to another lender, which then adds $720 to the customer. Poof! $3, 430 in an instant : almost $2500 created outside nothing rapid as long as the lending company follows your own personal government's middle bank protocols.

Creation connected with Bitcoin will be as different from traditional bank funds' formation as hard cash is by electrons. It's not at all controlled by way of government's critical bank, but alternatively by total of many people and clients. It is not put together by a limited clean in a setting up, but rather by means of distributed open source and precessing. And it takes a form of specific work for construction. More on that will shortly.

Who all invented BitCoin?

The first BitCoins were within the block of fifty (the "Genesis Block") brought to life by Satoshi Nakomoto in Present cards 2009. Them didn't obviously have any price at first. That it was just a cryptographer's plaything determined by a cardstock published 2 months earlier by way of Nakomoto. Nakotmoto is an it seems that fictional identity - not one person seems to find out who the individual or these is/are.

Just who keeps track of it?

Once the Genesis Block is created, BitCoins currently have since really been generated performing the work to keep track of all of transactions for any BitCoins as the kind of general population ledger. Often the nodes suggestions computers doing it calculations for the ledger will be rewarded regarding doing so. Per each set of flourishing calculations, the exact node is definitely rewarded by using a certain amount with BitCoin ("BTC"), which are next newly developed into the BitCoin ecosystem. For that reason the term, "BitCoin Miner" instructions because the approach creates innovative BTC. Because supply of BTC increases, even though the number of ventures increases, the repair necessary to post on the public journal gets trickier and more difficult. As a result, the sheer numbers of new BTC into the experience designed to possibly be about 70 BTC (one block) just about every 10 minutes, world-wide.

Even though the work power intended for mining BitCoin (and to get updating anyone ledger) is now increasing a significant amount, so is a complexity of your math dilemma (which, mind you, also uses a certain amount regarding guessing), or perhaps "proof" wanted to mine BitCoin and to mend the transactional books any kind of time given point in time. So the procedure still solely generates a person 50 BTC block any 10 minutes, or maybe 2106 chunks every two weeks.

So , in anyway, everyone keep track of it aid that is, many of the nodes inside network remember the history of any single BitCoin.

How much is now there and wheresoever is it?

The good news is maximum volume of BitCoin which can ever often be generated, understanding that number can be 21 trillion. According to the Khan Academy, the cell number is required to top outside around the year or so 2140.

Adjusted, this morning stopping 12. you million BTC in circulating

Your own BitCoin are placed in a data (your BitCoin wallet) absolutely need storage : your computer. The exact file per se is evidence the number of BTC you have, therefore it may move on you on a cell device.

If perhaps that report with the cryptographic key in your personal wallet may get lost, hence does your cause of BitCoin capital. And you aint able to get it returning.

How much is them worth?

The exact value varies influenced by how much people today think it could worth rapid just like during the exchange involving "real capital. " Nonetheless because there is virtually no central ability trying to retain the value about a certain grade, it can are different more greatly. The first BTC were in essence worth next to nothing at the time, although those BTC still exist. Associated with 11AM for December 13, 2013, everyone value seemed to be $906. 00 US every BitCoin. Whenever i finished authoring this title, it was $900. 00. About the beginning connected with 2013, the exact value was all over $20. 00 US. For November 25, 2013 that it was valued during more than $1, 000. 00 US a BTC. Making it kind of airy at the moment, nonetheless it's will be settle down.

The overall value of most of BitCoin instructions as of the time scale at the end of the following sentence aid is around 5 billion UNITED STATES dollars.

Ways to get everyone some?

Primary, you have to have your BitCoin jean pocket. This article includes links to receive one.

The other way will be to buy quite a few from one other private get together, like these males on Bloomberg TV. A method is to invest in some for an exchange, including Mt. Gox.

And finally, a method is to make a lot of laptop power along with electricity towards process and stay a BitCoin miner. That is certainly well not in the scope of the article. But if you employ a few 500 extra $ lying around, you can aquire quite a computer.

How can I shell out it?

One can find hundreds of stores of all types that carry BitCoin with payment, out of cafes to help auto motorbike shops. There's obviously any good BitCoin TELLER MACHINE in Vancouver, British Columbia pertaining to converting your individual BTC that will cash in Vancouver, BC.

And therefore?

Money encounters a long track record - millennia in length. To some extent recent legend mobile phone tells us in which Manhattan Region was obtained for wampum - seashells & such. In the quick years of us states, different bankers printed their currency. Using a recent appointment Salt Originate Island around British Columbia, I just spent money that was exclusively good in the lovely region. The common topic amongst most of these was a have faith in agreement amid its users this that particular currency exchange held valuation. Sometimes of which value appeared to be tied straight away to something stable and natural, like yellow metal. In 1900 the You. S. hooked its forex directly to your old watches (the "Gold Standard") because 1971, broken that bring.

Now foreign money is dealt with like any different commodity, however a particular place's currency cost can be propped up as well as diminished thru actions within their central standard bank. BitCoin is definitely alternate money that is as well traded and the value, this way of many other commodities, is set through exchange, but will not be held up or simply diminished because of the action with any loan company, but rather right by the physical activities of all people. Its present is limited in addition to known nevertheless and (unlike physical currency) so is definitely the history of each one single BitCoin. Its seen value, for instance all other currency exchange, is based on a utility plus trust.

As the form of forex, BitCoin a slam dunk a new part of Creation, but it surely certainly is usually a new path for money to generally be created.

[eggzy]

I’m honestly just dying to write somethingggg -- I’d really love a mumu?? maybe just two of us or throw in another person?? it could be anything from apartment wing, college roommates... maybe the truman show???? or something supernatural maybe???

under the cut are the characters/faces in the mumu I’d be interested in playing.

IVAN BISHOP | janis ancens | 22-26 years old

his family has had money for decades bc they’ve always managed to deal with corrupt government officials and whatnot. the bishop family make profit off war/violence bc they sell weapons!! they tend to sell to both sides of wars, even if in secret!! plus, they deal with monster/creature hunters!!! bishop is a name known around the world for many things.

um he’s a perfectionist. has to be the best at everything. everything. he was head boy in the private boarding school he attended, president of whatever fraternity that rich young men like him get into the kind with bad hazing and shit, was president of his university’s SGA, has perfect grades and a perfect record!!! he strives to be the best and ambition has taken him far. he doesn’t just rely on his family but the name does open A LOT of doors for him

he’s very stoic but can charm the pants off people!! but he’s very manipulative in this, can often get people to do what he wants. he once had his whole fraternity turn against this kid on campus who was running against him for SGA… he’s got a real cruel streak. hope you never see it. ://

he’s like ALLLLMOST greysexual but he still likes the act of sex from time to time. its hard to catch him with his guard down. doesn’t have a good relationship with either of his parents. mother cheats while away at one of their many beach condos. father is absent, busy with work && hunting. he’s good at gaslighting ivan so, as you can imagine, the boy has some real daddy issues.

he has younger brother and sister who are twins!! his mother is a BICTH!!! she is not nice. not pleasant in the slightest!! but she’s really really good at hunting! maybe a witch??? haven’t decided where I want that to go lol

MALLORY LEWIS | nicola peltz | 21-23 years old

so mal is an only child and her young parents were very excited to have a girl, especially her mother. she was pretty much a tiny doll in her mother’s eyes. she was an only child and the woman saw her daughter as something to dress up and parade around rather than really take care of. so, unsurprisingly, she’s been to a decent amount of pageants, a few Ws under her belt, in fact.

her parents got divorced when she was three! the highschool sweethearts didn’t last but five years! and so she was never really close with her father because her mother monopolized her time. she grew pretty resentful towards him as she got older because of their lack of time together and because he never really tried to see her or get her away from her mother. after a while, her father didn’t even try  to stay in touch. he helped a bit with expenses for a time but once he was remarried, there was no hearing from him.

mal was primarily raised by her mother who jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend and husband to husband!! when she was especially young, there were a lot of boundary lines that were blurred between her and her mother. she slept in bed with her until she was nine, she wouldn’t ever be far from her. her mother would get them matching outfits and she’d always do mal’s hair, make sure she was perfect, and she had to be exactly the way that her mother wanted her to be. no questions.

so being left alone with her mother and being groomed by her mother alone, she kind of became a mini version of her!! she didn’t care about anything other than getting what she wanted. men were tools. they were just bank accounts and pretty things to surround herself with. if she wanted it, she could get it – she knew what her appearance did to others, men especially. ever so manipulative, she has her own harem of men, ages all varying from twenties to sixties, that she spends her time with. she’s easily a homewrecker to a handful of relationships out there.

she relies on some of her daddies forreal though because between them and hustling, she can only resort to criminal acts to support herself!

the monsters she seen all her life!! she used to be very vocal about it but her mom put her in a institution one summer when she was 13 which really traumatized her so she does NOT talk about the shit she sees! NOT CRAZY!!

“GK” STARR | madison mclaughlin | 19-23 years old

my baby is like the human form of peach tea. is that weird to say? gk is a super sweetheart and most people genuinely like her when they meet her. she makes it easy, bc she’s bit of a pushover and people-pleaser so she gets walked on a lot. still learning how to stand up for herself!!

she’s an art freak. loves oil painting the most as that’s the one she’s more experienced with. learning how to use water colors and gouache just as well. wants to be graphic designer one day!!

with a short and small stature, most underestimate her, if not all who cencounter her. she is no impressive figure, by any means, so her goal of becoming a superhero seems farfetched to many. with the appearance of such fragility, gk attracts those who wish to protect without meaning to, often due to her size. her skin is very tanned with a decently clear complexion as she still struggles with acne and such. freckles are scattered across the bridge of her nose and over the tips of her shoulders. A dark mole is one of her most striking features, location just under her right eye. 

gk is very friendly and very loud. so basically, one of those people who just makes themselves known, no matter the room they enter into. very much a people-person, loves to be in the company of anyone, even strangers. she’s extremely naive, so constantly people are using her for her powers, abusing her kindness and willingness to help. questions are constantly on her tongue, because she doesn’t know about anything and is so very curious! she’s not everyone’s cup of tea, that’s for sure – but she’ll never know unless you tell her upfront, she’s a bit oblivious at times.

gk stands for georgia katherine, so as you can imagine she’s pretty southern. her accent is thick like molasses!! her family moved here from louisiana about five years ago. it had been a tough move and she struggled for a bit, bc people aren’t always kind and the starrs aren’t necessarily well off. they’re barely pushing by, one might say.

TRENTON LEROY | chris wood | 20-25 years old

tw: child abuse, violence, mental illness

so like!! trenton is from lyon, france! he has a SLIGHT accent but its not strong anymore because he hasn’t been back to france in like ten years.

his mother and father are not married. he was born out of wedlock because his mother was his father’s mistress. the man left after the idea of trenton was even mentioned. he was a married man with hands in politics, he couldn’t afford to have this out.

so labeaux family paid off the leroy family, sending money every month to keep them quiet.

the leroy family is kind of a TRASHY family living in the countryside near lyon. it was just trenton, his mother, grandmother and uncle. a small family that lived on the checks sent by a man worlds away.

he adored his mother more than any person!! like almost an obsession!! but thats because out of that house, she was the only one to ever show him kindness. his grandmother and uncle both were quite unkind to him, blaming him for their misfortunes and taking out their stress. unfortunately, his mother left the family and ran off with a boyfriend. trenton was only seven at the time but the sense of loneliness and abandonment following her departure REALLY affected him in ways that weren’t good. and the abuse he took from other family members only pushed him further.

his father took an interest back into his life at age twelve, realizing that the boy was his only current heir. he quickly took the boy from that house and placed him into a boarding school in england to learn everything from ENGLISH itself to business and other ways of the world.

the setting wasn’t much better tbh!! he was mistreated by older kids for a while, bullied for a variety of things until he finally shot up between age 15 & 16. he really grew into his awkward limbs, a charming face to match!! it was a surprise to everyone that the awkward boy had transformed into that. trenton started to get attention he had never received before. and it delighted him. but he didn’t know how to handle it.

he began abusing his friends, girlfriends… anyone who was close to him. violence was the ONLY language he would ever be fluent in – his family made sure of that.

when he graduated, he was a shadow of the boy he once was. dark and twisted with desires that no good person should have. but still he passed it off like a charm, being the perfect son that his father had never wanted.

trenton was moved to highland springs and he lived there with his just father for a few years, learning the ways of the family business and politics.

but eventually everything got to him and he SNAPPED. the incident had him sent away once more but this time to a mental institution on the west coast. he was heavily guarded secret so no one really knew where he disappeared to. his father only claimed traveling the world.

FOX KINSLEY | matt hitt | 19-22 years old

ALCOHOLISM TW, DRUGS TW

okay so this is atticus fawkes kinsley!! he goes by fox because he hates those names and he’s bitter af towards his family right now.

his dad lost his dream job when fox was about ten or so and he took to the bottle and stayed with it. he wasn’t abusive or anything, just yelled sometimes. Mostly laid around the house, sulking. he’s attempted other jobs, but it always ends up with him fired because of a DUI or something. so that’s where fox got most of his lazy traits from

his mom is this SUPER ambitious woman who’s really great honestly but she really cares about how people view her. so witnessing her husband in the state he was in really embarrassed her?? that destroyed their relationship. she thinks pretty lowly of the man. they fought A LOT. after the man’s fourth DUI in two years, she left.

she tried to convince fox to come with her, but he refused. he didn’t like the idea of abandoning his father. they used to be really close once. :’) so she left seventeen year old fox as well and took his sister to live with her parents for a while.

fox and his father did okay for a year or so. it was a bit rough because he had to get a shitty job with shitty hours to handle the bills and stuff. because good ole dad was still just doing his thing, drinking himself silly and sleeping at the oddest hours. fox had to leave on his last year of high school, which at the time didn’t bother him. but now, he’s starting to regret that more and more.

he’s a stoner through and through. mostly just sticks to weed. he’s really sloping down that path towards harder drugs though so he wears long sleeves occasionally to cover track marks.

things started to get really shitty one late saturday night when he returned after a double at work to find the house empty. only a note from his father, detailing that he needed to find himself and work out his problems on his own, was left. it fucked him up.

the loneliness and desperation he’ll never forget. it’s been carved into his bones and burned into his skin. he’ll never forget that pain. and because of that, he’s very very bitter. he’s been going out and partying doing every drug you can imagine. trying to destroy himself for the past year. sick, unhealthy living.

he’s still working at the gas station, still manning the slushie machines even if he has no one to go home to. no one to teach him how to be an adult in the real world.

WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR:

maybe like more family members? mother/father... sister/brother??? rival family?? maybe some kind of sentient monster???? or like friends of either mal or ivan??

platonic to romantic relationships!

a partner that can put up with me and my work/lazy schedule! I’ve been dying to write and rps are just dwindling around here so they’re just not gonna cut it... but I’m determined to have this plot because I NEEEED the creative outlet.

#1x1 #1x1 rp #mumu rp #mumu plot #mumu roleplay #1x1 plot