#top ten richest people in the world

[egnaroo]

The wealthiest president in US history will be competing for the presidential seat in 2024, what can Americans hope

The wealthiest president in US history will be competing for the presidential seat in 2024, what can Americans hope

The list of American presidents by peak net worth is rather diverse. Presidents’ net value is frequently less than zero after they pass away due to debt and depreciation. Before 1845, the majority of presidents, particularly Andrew Jackson and George Washington, were enormously wealthy and reported as the wealthiest presidents in the US until 2015. Except for Harry S. Truman, all presidents…

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[infoworldkhowledge]

top 10 richest man in the world 2023

#world richest man #world richest people #world richest person #top ten richest man 2023

[iwan1979]

The ranks of the wealthiest people on the planet include 7 self-made Americans, a French luxury goods tycoon, a Mexican telecom magnate and an Indian industrialist.

#The Top Ten Richest People In The World

[kookslastbutton]

Reflections ༓ kth (m) | "Stay with me until the end of the day"

✑ Summary: As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given.

pairing: brand ambassador!Taehyung x new photographer!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, smut, photography au, modeling au, s2l, two part series (duology?)

word count: 11.3k

warnings: exposes "dark side" of fashion world, oc gets insulted by fashion assistants (b-word dropped once but our oc bites back), flirty yet annoying videographer!kook, angry!seokjin, sunshine!stylist!hobi, charming!makeup artist!jimin, cool manager!joonie, Taehyung is an elegant flirt and not like the others, jazz bar date🥺, Taehyung calls her darling a lot, tehyung gets jealous, talk about long distance relationship, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, explicit sex (use of condom), big dick!tae (it takes a bit to get it all the way in 😬), praise kink, lingerie, small jewelry kink? (He f's oc with their ruby necklace on), doggy, size kink, multiple org*sms, squ*rting, oral (f. Receiving), half a hand*b, f*ngering, overstimulation, little bit of breastplay, cussing, d*rtytalk, foreplay, a little expressiveness, mention of aftercare, Taehyung just adores hers, hot car make out, mention of morning s*x

now playing: Slow Dancing by thv

a/n: first omg i never reached 11k in my life. Secondly, shoutout to anyone who has seen Devil Wears Prada...a personal favorite of mine. Also Layover is omg the best thing ever! So i decided to focus on slow dancing for this fic. Pls enjoy ❤

part one | part two

How many twenty-something-year-olds can say they work at one of the biggest, most luxurious jewelry & fragrance brands in the world? And on top of that, are located in the fashion capital; Paris, France? A rare handful, and it's because of those reasons that they're given the lowest positions possible; you being one of them.

Sure, climbing the corporate ladder is possible with years of relentless dedication, raw talent, and of course, let's not forget connections with the higher-ups. But competition grows fiercer with each passing year as more eager young people gun for advancements in hopes of survival.

After all, who can afford to be stuck on the bottom rung forever?

You didn't want to believe the undertone theme in the critically acclaimed movie The Devil Wears Prada was true, that underneath the glitz and glam of haute couture are ruthless, cutthroat fashion moguls. But from the moment you stepped through the doors of Adrien & Rosamel in your coffee brown slacks and beige button down shirt, it couldn't be refuted–

No one was your friend and no one wanted to be.

Newbies must establish their professional value to the brand as early as possible to prevent being cut at any given moment. On the other hand, experienced professionals who have already earned their merit through decades of labor refuse to give up the stake to their claim and must be careful not to have the carpet swept from under their feet to a junior half their age.

It's a vicious race and despite its bitter nature, you're at the very heart of it.

As a fashion photographer, your ultimate goal is to have weeks' worth of sessions with models from all over the world; all adorned with timeless pieces from genuine gold watches to the richest of gemstones.

These are the types of photographers who are the best and brightest in the industry. They have at least ten years of experience and are booked until the very last second with modeling photoshoots.

The odd prodigy exist too; individuals who are born with an insane wealth of insight and skill which allow them to move up in rank faster.

You wish you were good enough to be considered a prodigy but no such luck. Adrien & Rosamel have insanely high standards on who is allowed to handle the jewelry, let alone be around the models who are so-called showcasing them.

So here you are day what—241? And still stuck taking photos of the same jewelry pieces day in and day out. Sure the theme of the photos gets changed slightly but it's been eight months of this generic work and truth be told, you're getting sick of it.

.

"__!" Seokjin, your coworker and one of A&R's jewelry polishers calls your name anxiously. He rushes to your side where you're taking close-up photos of a limited-edition steel watch. "Be gentle with this, will you? This is selling for 7,000 euros which means $8,000, 10 million south korean won, and 6,000 pounds. I also just finished polishing it so don't be getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!"

You roll your eyes and continue to move the watch around on the display table until you get a perfect angle. "Relax princess, I'm barely touching it and I have gloves on."

Seokjin's fluffy eyebrows furrow together, face scrunching at the nickname you chose for him. "That's—that's completely uncalled for! Do you know how long I spent buffering the face of the watch alone?! One hour __!"

You hate yourself from bursting out in laughter but this isn't the first time you've gotten lectured by Seokjin. Its like the tiniest detail would set him off. Seokjin's been with the brand a little longer than you; a year now, but he still has that constant need to micromanage everyone he can.

"Look," he continues his scold. "If anything happens to these priceless watches it's my head on the chopping block. I can't afford to lose my job __!"

"Yes, I understand Seokjin. Nothing will happen to these alright?" You move around the man to get more pictures of the watch lying elegantly on its side. "Don't you have about fifty other watches to shine or do you like nitpicking my every movement instead?"

Seokjin scoffs at you, sticks his hands on his hip and walks away with a disapproving shake of his head. "I have my eye on you junior," he warns.

You ignore his subtle jab and continue taking photos. "Creep," you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes pass and you're about ready to move on to the editing process for your photos. You take a quick peek at them through your camera, clicking through the gallery with the right arrow button.

"Not bad newbie," you hear a voice come from over your shoulder that causes you to jump in surprise.

"What the fuck Jeon," you throw your best side-eye at the young man who happens to be your only acquaintance in the whole company. His role was similar to yours, but instead of photographing jewelry he films them; he's a videographer. "I'm beginning to think you like sneaking up on me on purpose."

The young man laughs with a child-like energy. "What can I say? Seeing you flustered does something to me. But actually, I was just passing by. Haven't talked to you in a while."

Come to think of it he has a point. You haven't seen Jeon Jungkook in about two weeks straight. The two of you aren't friends so you don't check up on each other constantly but you'd like to think you have good rapport.

"What have you been up to anyway? I've seen you rushing around the place like you have millions of appointments to make," you ask.

"I've become a busy man babe," he replies with a cheeky grin. "The higher-ups have noticed my talent and I'm playing with the big boys now."

"You talk about the higher-ups like they're Big Brother or something. Come on, tell me again but in laymen terms."

He sighs at the need to repeat himself. "Okay, listen. I'm working with the models now and more specifically I have a 2 o'clock gig with Kim Taehyung tomorrow. You know, our global ambassador? I'm shooting the film portion of the campaign we're running for him. Isn't that insane?!" His eyes glow up at the mere mention of Kim Taehyung who you are well aware of.

Everything about your famed global ambassador is a fashion photographer's dream; tall, lean, and tantalizingly handsome.

"Of course, I know who Kim Taehyung is. His face is plastered all over the walls of Adrien & Rosamel. Even saw his face on one of our company mugs. Anyone who's anyone will sell their left kidney to breathe in the same room with him but how the heck did you land a shoot with him this early? You've been here for less time than me!"

You're not shouting, you promise. Just extremely envious at the continuous luck Jungkook is having.

"Well," he starts drawling his words. "I might have gotten close with Park Ji-hun over the last month or so. His daughter in particular." You raise your eyebrows in awe.

Park Ji-hun has been Kim Taehyung's personal photographer for nearly ten years. And next to the model himself, he's another highly talked about individual at Adrien & Rosamel.

"Please tell me you didn't use his daughter for your own professional gain," you interject. Jungkook waves his hands around disapprovingly at your suspicion.

"I didn't, we went out on a blind date. I didn't know who her father was until half-way through the date."

"Mhm, something tells me that that's not completely true."

"Okay, so maybe her name sounded a little familiar but I swear, I didn't know they were the same person. But long story short, we started going out and I managed to win her father's approval. And now he's letting me shoot with him!" Jungkook's enthusiasm dies when he sees you doing your best to give a tight-lipped smile. "Babe, listen. I know you and I had a thing a few months back but....you're not still pining over me are you?"

You shove him in the shoulder at the ridiculous question. "We never had a thing. Stop it. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around your recent success."

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess its fate. And we definitely had a thing," he gives a wink. "Well anyway, I need to get to another appointment in ten. Jimin's gonna completely flip if I'm late."

Your mouth gapes open. "You're working with Park Jimin too? He's one of our best makeup artists, what the hell?"

"There are many colors that suit you __. Green's not one of them." Jungkook spins himself around and walks away from you. "Catch you later!"

"Goddamnit," you curse to yourself. "Is he Mr. Perfect or something?"

"__, we're gonna need the space in about five minutes." Another photographer calls from behind you, reminding you that you need to make yourself scarce.

The next morning is absolute madness with the news of Kim Taehyung's arrival in Paris.

As one of the most iconic brand ambassadors and haute couture models, he has quite an impressive fan following from countries all over the world including France. From the moment he steps out of his plane until the minute he enters Adrien & Rosamel, the man is constantly surrounded by masses of people all standing around with their phone cameras.

The company doesn't exactly give him a break from the high intensity of the crowd either. All the assistants working today are tasked with both meeting his requests and socializing with him while the rest of the team hauls around studio equipment for his photoshoot.

"Did you see the way he looked at me Ha-rin?" You overhear one of the assistants boast to the other while passing in the hallway. "I've had such a crush on him for years and I finally have the chance to meet him. I swear, I'll do anything he asks me to do."

"Oh my god, how dense can you be? Sure he smiled at you but let's not forget who it was he asked to get water from," the second woman spats back, raising the unopened bottle of water in her left hand. "It was me. I'm the one he wanted."

You snort at how snarky the two of them are to each other. As if Kim Taehyung would give so much of a blink their way let alone "want" either of them. You've never met the man but you've seen his face enough to know he could have anyone he desired. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone from the company.

"Excuse me," Ha-rin stops in her tracks and speaks in your direction. "Is there something you find funny?"

"I'm sorry?" You freeze in place, unsure of what the woman's referring to.

"Don't play coy junior. You snorted at us, kinda nosy to be listening in on a private conversation."

Fuck sake, you are getting so tried of everyone calling you junior. You weren't given the name __ for it to be ignored at will.

"My apologies if it seemed that way. I assure you I was thinking of other matters." Your Majesty, you wanted to add but didn't.

Ha-rin body scans you as you speak and it immediately makes you feel self-conscious. The way she purses her lips can't be anything but venom that's about to spit out at you. "It better be that way. And by the way, those pants don't do anything for you. Maybe wear a dress next time," she slithers.

"Oh you mean like the dress you're wearing?" you reply. "No thanks. I'm not looking to impress anyone here. I have to get back to work now so you'll both excuse me," you bid them adieu and continue walking down to your office.

"What a bitch," you overhear one of them say and you clench your fists with tears brimming underneath your eyes.

Don't you dare cry __. Not here.

So some of your eye makeup got smudged from your incident with thing 1 and thing 2. You hate how much such a shallow jab got to you but, you're only human.

Coming into such a luxe company you expected this type of behavior. Yet your dreams are so much bigger than them. You'll push through like always.

"Hey," a knock pounds on your door. "Need to talk to you. Busy?" Its you manager Namjoon.

"No." You give him your full attention. "What's going on?"

Namjoon closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. "We have a situation," he starts.

"Okay...what happened Joon?"

"Our shoot with Kim Taehyung is in less than an hour and Park Ji-hun is nowhere to be found in the building. We called him up and looks like he had another shoot scheduled during the same slot. Must have been an overlook on our part, his part, I don't care whose fault it is. But we need someone to fill in right now or we're not going to have any material for our campaign." It comes out all at once and the feeling of whiplash washes over you.

"On top of that," he continues, "I don't want to waste monsieur's time. He just flew 14 hours from Seoul. So, can you do it or no?"

Oh my god...you repeat at least twice in your head before forming a response.

"I'd be very grateful for this opportunity but shouldn't this go to the next best photographer available? I only shoot jewelry on its own. I've never done—"

"You are our next best option __. All our photographers are booked with other models for the next three months. You've been here long enough to know how packed schedules get. Please, I've seen your work. It's good. And if you want an in for your career, I'd grab your camera and meet Kim in the studio in two minutes."

"Well I—"

"Yes or no __? Because I can always give the opportunity to another jewelry photographer. I'd rather not because they're techniques not as good as yours but I'll do it if I have to."

Your mind scrambles for a concise answer. You've been working towards something like this for months, doing your best to perfect your craft in hopes the higher-ups might recognize you as they did Jungkook. Yet until now it's been null; no one has made you such an important offer.

"I'll grab my equipment and meet you all in the studio," you decide. Your manager nods in approval and moves to exit your office.

"That's what I was hoping to hear. You'll be working closely with Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. I'm sure you're familiar with them, no?"

"Yes sir," you reply. "Quite familiar."

"Jung Hoseok," the man with likely the brightest and most genuine smile you've ever seen shakes your hand. "I'm Kim Taehyung's stylist for this shoot. We're going for laid-back, yet elegant and refined for the studio shoot. Tomorrow we'll go with a completely free theme when we shoot at the beach. I have some specific fashion pieces picked out that I think he'll make pop for this campaign."

"That sounds great Hoseok. I wasn't aware we were going to a location tomorrow though." You don't mean to sound naive but you really were just thrown into this only minutes ago.

He lets go of your hand after the quick shake. "Yes, we have a two-day shoot planned. I know this is all news to you as of five minutes ago. And I'll do my best to help I'm any way I can. Park Ji-hun believes that the jewelry pieces and cologne picked out for Taehyung will be best suited in two places. One, in the studio to highlight the jewelry and two, at the beach to create an atmosphere for the cologne."

"Makes sense, thank you for filling me in."

"Like I said, I'm going to do as much as I can to help. Jimin get over here and introduce yourself to __." He calls to the pink hair boy who's busy sorting through his makeup palettes.

"Park Jimin," he walks over to you and also shakes your hand. "Makeup artist. Jungkook's told me about you."

"Oh god," you slip out and everyone chuckles. "Do I need to go hide somewhere now?" Who knows what Jungkook's said about you. Looks like he really is trying to get cozy with as many people as he can here.

"No no," Jimin waves of your slight embarrassment. "He just said you're an acquaintance that's all." You want to believe him but the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth has you second-guessing.

It's not like Jungkook has a lot of beef with you or "secrets" to spill. He just had a big mouth, flirted with everyone in sight his first three months at the company and you happened to be his first target.

But no biggie. He's dating Park Ji-hun's daughter now, right?

"Love," it's Jimin's voice again. "Don't take this as any offense but I think you need a touch-up. Half your makeup's wiped from your face. Let me fix it for you okay?"

Well if you weren't embarrassed before you are now. Jimin's a professional make-up artist, surely his eyes are fine-tuned to the human face and pick up on make-up inconsistencies.

"Sure," you give in. "That'd be great."

Jimin walks over to his pile of make-up supplies and grabs a classic black eyeliner. "Close your lids," he tells you softly. He gently draws a wing over the lid that needs the most help and then, reaches for an eyeshadow that matches the other eye. "Okay, almost there. Just a few more brushes of this and you'll be good to go."

Though your eyes are closed you can easily distinguish the sound of a third voice.

"So you said yes huh?" Jungkook nears you and Jimin with a cheesy grin. "Now who's moving up in the world?"

"This is our first time working together Jeon," you reply. "Let's keep things professional shall we?"

"Oh please, you should be thanking me instead of giving me pointers on how our professional relationship should be." Jungkook snaps back and you stiffen at his words.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Namjoon didn't mention who exactly dropped your name as a potential candidate to clear up this little mess of ours? When Ji-hun told us he accidentally double-booked I immediately suggested you. I'm hurt you didn't know." He puts his hands over his heart as if pretending to be in pain.

"Wow, well you're right. I suppose I owe you my thanks." And here you thought people only looked out for themselves. Still, it's not like you and Jungkook are gunning for the same position. Him helping you doesn't exactly put him at a disadvantage.

You do feel more pressured to do well for this shoot though. Not only is it your first model shoot, and with all people, it happens to be with Kim Taehyung but it'll backfire on Jungkook if the photos you capture turn up bad. You don't want to imagine what that'll do to both of your professional credibility.

"Alright you're good as new love," Jimin pipes up. You open your eyes and mouth a thank you but you find the words turn into gibberish as the man of the hour finally rounds the corner of the studio.

"Monsieur," Hoseok is the first to greet Kim Taehyung as he enters the space. "Good to see you again."

"How are you Hobi?" Such an endearing nickname comes from a deep, honey voice. It charms your ears. Kim Taehyung stands straight with one hand in the pocket of his loose black slacks while the other rests near the edge of his matching black blazer. It's oversized with a basic, yet clean white t-shirt. Elegant yet, relaxed.

"Doing well, thank you. But I'm afraid you'll need to change out of these clothes soon. We have a perfect ensemble picked out that'll combine well with your style and the pieces you'll be showing off." Hoseok guides him towards the dressing rooms but as he does, your eyes catch Taehyung's.

"Monsieur," Jimin and Jungkook rush to his side at once when they see him looking over. "This is __." They gesture at you with a hand. "She'll be filling in for Park Ji-hun during the entirety of the shoot."

Taehyung's chocolate eyes study your features, your posture, and most of all your lack of movement as he waits for you to say something.

You bow realizing all you've been doing is staring at his flawless face. You've seen him on social media, posters, promo banners, everything, and anything but seeing him in person is not at all the same. "Monsieur," you greet. "It's a pleasure to meet you and to be working with you for the next two days. As the others have said, my name is __."

The man takes long, purposeful strides toward you. "I promise, the pleasure is all mine," he says with a hand moving to shake yours. His long, beautiful fingers wrap around your hand and pull you into a firm grip. "Thank you for stepping in for Ji-hun. And from now on, there's no need to be formal. You can call me Taehyung."

He then flashes you a smile that makes you begin to understand why the two assistants from earlier were so adamant on getting his attention; he's breathtakingly gorgeous. You feel yourself on the brink of a cold sweat at any moment.

"I insist everyone call me by my first name," he says. "I'm an easy man."

"But Mons–" you start but he quirks a brow at you in expectation to fulfill his request. "I understand."

"Do you model as well?" Taehyung asks casually after retracting his hand. "Sorry, I can't help but notice that you have a lovely bone structure. I like to paint in my spare time and sometimes I enjoy having live models as a reference."

The question takes you by surprise. Not many people bother to compliment your physical features expect maybe a few of your closest friends. "I don't model. I prefer being the one behind the creation, like how I'll be behind the camera with you."

He chuckles at your reply. "If you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to paint a portrait of you."

"Well thank you. I'm afraid I don't do nudes though." You really ought to shut your mouth sometimes. Of course, artists don't solely paint nude portraits. What are you saying?

The man in front of you ponders your choice of words for a few seconds too long then leans in towards your ear. Not so far that it's invasive but enough that you're the only one able to hear. "Again, if you ever change your mind....I'd be honored to paint you."

"Monsieur this is not appropriate to be saying."

"I'm not the one saying inappropriate things. I merely said I wanted to paint you as any artist would. You're the one that mentioned getting undressed."

Taehyung straightens himself back up and turns his whole body around. "Hobi," he shifts his attention to his stylist. "Show me what I need to wear today."

You're left standing with a baffled facial expression.

Kim Taehyung is the most elegant flirt and tease you've ever met.

After fifteen minutes Taehyung comes back to the studio in a shaggy grey button-down cardigan and plaid grey slacks. A gold chain necklace with a panther and tassle-like pendant hangs around his neck and on his left hand is a matching gold watch with a gold ring resting on his pointer finger.

They're all part of A&R's newest Panther collection and look nothing short of magnificent on him.

"We'll start with a few standing shots focusing on the ring and necklace separately," you say.

Taehyung nods in understanding and walks over to the studio setup that has a grey-ish purple green screen. Large studio lights hover on either side of the set to which Taehyung poses himself between.

He stands straight forward, eyes directly in line with the camera lens and jaw relaxed into a natural facial expression. It's a simple first pose to start off with but for a reason unexplainable Taehyung gives it new meaning.

It's takes you aback when you look at him through the lens of your camera. The closer you moves towards him to capture a clear shot, the more you're spooked by his intense eyes.

What makes it worse is when he decides to bring his pointer finger, the one with the ring, up to his mouth. His teeth latch gently around the gold band as it settles between his lips. You take several shots, adjusting the exposure on your camera as needed.

"Stunning," you hum in approval. Taehyung then slips the ring off his finger and again places it between his teeth. He tilts his head to the side to add to the flirtatious undertone of the pose.

"How was that?" He asks you after a few rapid flashes of the camera. "Thought I'd try something a little different this time."

"Came out perfect," you answer. "Flirty yet classically romantic. It molds well with our Panther campaign and brand. Suits you well too."

Taehyung's pleased by your words. "I'm glad you see it that way. I've always had a love for timeless themes. It's one of the reasons why I became an ambassador for Adrien & Rosamel. No other brand brings back the romantic past better."

"I agree with you completely. I fell in love with Adrien & Rosamel at a young age, around 13 I'd say. I always imagined myself to be largely integrated with the brand when I became an adult. Photography happened to help me get my foot in the door."

"Don't forget about me __," Jungkook interrupts from a couple feet away. "I got you this gig didn't I?"

Taehyung frowns at Jungkook's comment. "What does he mean?" He asks you. "Ji-hun specifically chose you to fill in for him didn't he?"

"Not exactly," you says with a flushed face. "Jungkook works closely with him and he was the one who recommended me to step in today. So I do owe him my life I suppose."

"You don't at all," Taehyung replied in a firmer tone than before. "He may have done you a favor but it's your talent that got you here. If your work wasn't good, do you think he'd take the risk of suggesting you?"

You stay silent as he continues.

"I've been in the industry for ten years, and no one lays their head on the line for you unless it benefits them in some way. Don't let him rob you of your achievements. And between you and me, I think he has an odd fixation on you." Taehyung lowers his voice. "Forgive me for being forward but he's not a jealous ex is he?"

You want to chuckle at the notion. "He's not, not at all." Taehyung laughs with you.

"So he's just a pain in the ass then," he says and you snort. "Had my share of them but not to worry. The best thing to do is to shake it off and in time, he'll realize everything you've gotten is by your own efforts and that you don't need his so called favors."

"Thank you Taehyung," you say, still a bit uneven as calling models like Taehyung was not what you were trained to do at Adrien & Rosamel. "We should probably move on with the shoot now."

"Sure, there's another pose I have in mind that I think will make the necklace stand out."

Taehyung steps away from you and turns around so his face is in front of the green screen. The cardigan he's wearing is cut to expose a large section of his back which allows pieces of the necklace to dangle against his smooth, bronze skin.

"What do you think? Does this fit the theme or does it look weird?" He rests one hand behind his head while the other raises above his head.

"Very artistic, hold the pose for me. Also, it's highly unlikely that you could ever look weird Taehyung." You focus the camera on the gold pendant. "You're a living and breathing aesthetic on your own."

"You know those are the same exact words I thought of when I mentioned wanting to paint you earlier. Seems like we see similarly don't we?"

"I guess we do, wow I never thought of myself as capable of having my own aesthetic. I feel like a carbon copy of everyone else some days." Once again you're stunned by his forwardness but you take it at face value. Perhaps he's naturally flirtatious even if he isn't meaning to be.

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at you and shakes his head in protest. "There's only one you __. You're not a carbon copy, so believe me when I say you're an aesthetic of your own as well. Which I would still like to get on canvas by the way."

"You're relentless about turning me into some kind of muse. I'm afraid I don't think I have the time, and neither do you now that I think of it. You fly back to Seoul after our shoot is over don't you?"

"I'm here for a couple of months actually," he surprises you with his reply. "Thought if I'm in Paris I might as well take some time to enjoy myself."

"That's fair. Now turn around again, I need to get a few more shots of the necklace."

"Your wish is my command." Taehyung faces away from you with a smile. He's decided he likes you. Maybe its a gift that Park Ji-hun couldn't do his photo session today.

"Do you want to know my favorite position?" Taehyung lays on his side with one hand supporting his head while the other clutches his elbow. The angle let's light from the softbox hit the gold watch perfectly, allowing it to be the star of the show; which is no easy task to achieve when it's Kim Taehyung who's modeling.

"No talking please," you respond, bending down on a knee in front for him. Your eye peeks through the camera lens to capture a good shot.

At your request, Taehyung does his best to remain silent but he can't help but notice your grip on the camera has gotten shakier. "Are you alright?" he asks with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Do you need a break? We've been going nonstop for nearly two hours now."

"Everything's fine Mon—"

"Taehyung," he interjects softly and slowly sits up from his position on the chaise lounge. "And here I thought we were starting to become comfortable with each other. Yet watching you struggle to hold that camera in place makes me feel bad. Let's pause for a few okay?"

You flush as he nears you, a tad embarrassed at the situation. You're a professional photographer which means you should be fully capable of moving forward with today's session without any breaks.

But you're palms are sweaty and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight from taking hours of close-up shots of the most handsome man on earth.

What's more, is that he keeps tossing out more flirty one-liners and finding ways to compliment you. And let's not forget your earlier exchange about the whole painting ordeal–wanting to put you on canvas and all.

No one warned you Kim Taehyung was going to be like this.

"What can I do to make you comfortable again, __?" He crouches directly in front of you with wisps of his honeyed locks dangling over his eyes. As he waits for your answer, the camera shutter clicks, getting a not-so-elegant close-up of his crotch.

Fuck. You didn't mean to take that.

"Too bad Hobi didn't give me a designer belt to wear. That would have made a great photo," Taehyung teases as he watches your fingers scrabble to delete the photo from your camera roll. "Imagine the kind of awards you'd win."

Oh god. You want to slap yourself awake now.

"Sorry," you rush to say anything at this point. "I think a break might be good after all."

"How about some fresh air? Last I knew it's a beautiful day out." Taehyung stands up and offers you a hand.

"You're offering to go out together?" You hesitate to put your hand in his at first but ultimately give in.

"Why not? It's up to you but I'd like to get some air in my lungs. Gets a little stuffy in here doesn't it?" Once he pulls you up he pulls his hand back. "Let's take a fifteen-minute break everyone," he calls to the rest of the team who nod and scatter in opposite directions.

"Fantastic." You hear Jimin talk to himself. "I've been needing to go to the bathroom for an hour already!" He scurries out of the studio as quick as his legs will carry him.

You and Taehyung find a quiet spot on the terrace above the company's enclosed garden. It's a recent edition the executives thought might give employees a small escape from the chaos of the day. And so far, it's been much appreciated. Being an unconventional hour to take a break, you're the only ones currently using the space.

"Can I ask you a question?" You cross your arms on the metal railing of the terrace and look at Taehyung beside you. He's standing calmly by the railing too with his hands in his pocket.

"Ask me anything," he replies.

"I haven't been in the fashion world nearly as long as you have but I know enough that people aren't as open as you are. You're much friendlier than most and I was wondering if you've always been that way. Even with Hoseok you call him Hobi, an endearing name."

He looks out into the distance at the perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, all square-shaped. "I became a model when I was 17. I hadn't even graduated high school yet when an agency recruited me. I thought it was a great opportunity until I saw the hunger for fame in my peer's eyes. Due to my appearance, I was given more chances to be on the cover of serious magazines like Vogue and Louis Vuitton but models who were there longer than me didn't. They were given shoots too but they were on a lower scale. Long story short they would scheme to get me in some kind of trouble so I'd get fired so they could take my place."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I didn't want to believe that the industry was as vicious as I was told prior to entering it myself, but it is. So many of my coworkers can't wait to see someone fail so they can be promoted."

"It's a shame that it's like this __." Taehyung looks at you now, a serious expression on. "It doesn't have to be this aggressive cycle of stepping on the next guy to get to your ideal position. That's why I've decided to go against the current and make as many friends as I can. People I genuinely like tend to be my closest connections." His eyes soften at this as he scans your face.

"That's a nice sentiment but doesn't that open you up to being taken advantage of?" You think back to the two assistants from earlier this morning in the hallway. Seemingly friends on the surface but actually yanking on each other's hair below.

He shrugs and pushes a couple of loose strands of his hair behind his ear. "Sure it might but, I couldn't sleep peacefully knowing I earned my achievements by cheating everyone else out of theirs. Life's too difficult to not have a good night's sleep do you think?"

"True," you agree. "I wish more people had this sort of mindset."

"Well, luckily we can lead by example. I assume you run against the current too?"

"I try but I still have a lot of ambition so I can't say I've made any friends so far. Other than maybe Jungkook."

"Ambition is good, distinguishes the serious people from the non-serious. Friends aren't easy to make in our world __ and pardon me but that Jungkook guy isn't your friend. At most he probably has a crush on you."

"Jungkook has a crush on anyone with two legs and boobs," you chuckle and Taehyung does the same. "But he has a girlfriend now I think."

"Well, that's a relief." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I don't have to worry about him being a threat anymore."

You snicker at his comment. "What threat?"

Taehyung breaks into a shy grin and looks towards the ground. "Forget it, I'm just kidding around. We should head back inside. I think our time's about up." He moves to walk back inside the building but you stop him.

"Wait, no." You step closer to him. "I didn't get that joke."

He flickers his eyes up and down your body, taking in your curiosity. "You need me to spell it out for you __?" He pauses and takes a breath. "You're beautiful and I find myself extremely attracted to you. I'd–god forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable– I'd like to take you out while I'm still in Paris."

"Taehyung, that's....not a joke. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. If you don't want to it's okay. Just say the word."

You smooth your hands down the side of your pants nervously. "Okay, what time and where?"

Taehyung's as shocked as you are by your response. "What are you doing tonight at 7 p.m?" he replies.

"Nothing, what are you doing?"

"Taking you out on a date I think. How's your dancing?"

"Oh I...I don't know. Depends on the type of dance. Why?" You know why. Of course, someone like Taehyung will want to take a slightly unconventional path for a first date.

"I want to take you to Le Duc des Lombards, you know that private jazz bar in town. So, if you can sway and don't mind being close to me we'll be in business."

"Alright." Don't overthink it, you think to yourself. It's just dancing. No biggie. "7 it is. I'll meet you there I guess."

"I can pick you up, actually, I'd really like to pick you up if I can. I know I'm such an old soul aren't I?"

"No problem," you can't contain your beaming smile. "We can exchange numbers and I'll text you my address."

"My phone's back in the studio. Let's do that before the end of the shoot."

"Shut the front door __!" Your best friend Elaine screams over the phone. "You're definitely wearing the sexy red dress I bought you for your birthday if you going to a jazz bar with, oh my god I can't even say his name. I'm so excited for you babe!"

"It's one date, Elaine. It'll probably not go anywhere either. I'm going into this as a fun night out with a very handsome man and that's all." You browse through your closet for something to wear. You've already showered and touched up your make-up. "Damn it, I have about twenty minutes before he gets here."

"I'm telling you __, wear the red one. Even if this will be a one-night thing it doesn't mean you can't look drop-dead gorgeous. Also, one more thing. What are you wearing for underwear?"

"Elaine!"

"What? If it were me I'd be looking as hot as I can tonight. Gives you a boost of confidence."

"Maybe," you say and pull out a black dress. "I'll think about it."

"Well think fast, because you're down to fifteen minutes now."

"Uh, shit." You toss the dress when you see there's a small tear in the strap. "Please tell me how I'm in the fashion industry and can't find anything to wear without holes in it."

"This is the last time I'm saying this __. Put on the red dress. It's more of a maroon so it'll make you blend with the mood of jazz but you'll pop out as well. And you'll look elegant with the silk sleeves and it's above the knee so you'll stay cool when you dance."

You card back the hangers until you get the dress Elaine is talking about. It's never been worn and it really is beautiful. "The neckline's kinda deep though," you say.

"You're boobs aren't gonna fall out if that's what you're worried about. I've seen the dress and it'll be great on your body. Plus, worst-case scenario you get laid by the hottest man in the damn universe."

"I'm not having sex with him you know..." you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. "This is a–"

"Fun night out. Yes babe, whatever you want to think." Elaine snickers over the phone.

"Fine, you win but I have to change now okay?" You set the phone down and start untying your robe. Are you wearing a transparent black lace set underneath? Yeah, but it's not like anyone's going to know about it.

"Don't forget to call me later! Or tomorrow depending on how tonight goes," she snickers again.

"Goodbye Elaine," you shake your head and end the call.

"You know what might look great with this dress is that ruby necklace I bought ages ago," you say to yourself. The necklace you're referring to is dainty yet never a let down no matter what you pair it with.

Satisfied, you head to your jewlery case in search for it.

"I see you found the place okay." You say once you hop into the passenger seat of Taehyung's Porsche. Man does well for himself.

"I did, and you look like a million dollars darling. Aphrodite herself couldn't even compare. I'm going to have the worst time trying not to stare at you tonight." Taehyung stands on the other side of your door and waits for your feet to be tucked in the vehicle before letting the door shut.

He insisted he come around and open it for you when he saw a glimpse of your figure walking towards his car.

"Darling?" you repeat inquisitively when he jumps in the drivers seat.

"Do you not like it? It's kinda old I know." Taehyung starts the car and puts the car in gear. He turns the wheel single-handedly and pulls out of your driveway.

There's something about seeing a man do this that always lights a fire inside you. Especially when said man is currently in a white, freshly pressed dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark grey dress pants.

"I like it," you say. "Darling. It fits the night well, since we're going go the jazz club. I like this look on you by the way."

Taehyung smiles at you briefly before focusing back on the road. The hand that rests on his knee shakes a little and his grip tightens on the wheel. "Hearing you compliment me makes me a little shy, sorry. But by the way, I like that ruby necklace you have on."

You smile and play with the chain. Always a hit.

The club is moderately crowded when you step foot in the building. The atmosphere is warm and inviting with the creme tones, bright white ceiling lights, and soft purple strobe lighting that shines from the stage. You and Taehyung are lucky to find a free table to claim on the end of the second row of seating.

"Have you been to Le Duc des Lombards before?" He asks, letting you take the inner seat.

"I came once but it was a long time ago when I was in college," you answer.

"Really?" Taehyung takes the seat next to you. "Where did you study?"

"Spéos photography school. A lot of wanna-be professional photographers attend there. I'm fortunate to be able to go."

"I'm glad you got to study there. I assume that's how you got a job with Adrien & Rosamel right?"

"It was definitely the main reason but," you sigh. "I did have some gracious references who help me get in, including Jungkook who went to the same school. As a videographer we were project partners a few times so he was a good person of contact. Along with a few professors of course."

Taehyung snatches the bar menu placed at your table, more aggressively than expected. "No offense but I'm really starting to not like that guy," he grits, jaw clenching. "From now on you can put me down for any further references. The photos you took look wonderful and you know I have some solid connections with some very important individuals."

"Taehyung..." You're amused by the peek of jealousy. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? The photos need to be approved by our campaign managers first before any merit is given. Plus, you're not my boyfriend."

"Could be your boyfriend," he quips back and you whip your head in his direction.

"Hm?"

"Hm what? You heard me."

"I thought you said you were shy tonight," you accuse and lean over his shoulder to scan over the drink menu with him. When you do you get a strong whiff of his cologne. God, you love the smell of cologne. Would it be too far for you to grab him by the shirt collar and throw your face into his chest?

Yes __, too far. Don't do that. You waive off the thought.

"What do you want from the bar?" Taehyung asks and you give him your response. He heads for the bar in the back of the room as soon as you tell him, not even giving you any time to grab your wallet.

"Tae–" you jump up from you seat. "You don't have to pay for me. I can get my own."

"As my date, I'd be my honor to buy a drink for you __. But you can keep calling me Tae, it sounds nice coming from your lips." He turns around and continues to the bar.

Nearly two hours of live jazz music later and a few drinks later, you find yourself in a pair of long, sturdy arms. One of Taehyung's hands curls around your waist while the other laces in your fingers.

"You sway well," he drawls, pulling you closer to his body. I'd make you squirm more than you already are if it weren't for a bit of liquor in your system. "In fact, you're a natural. Makes me wonder what other areas you have a natural talent for."

"Okay monsieur," you playfully joke and continue to let him dance you in small circles. "We're getting a little close to the hot zone now."

"Are we? Must be because you're so unbearably hot. Did I tell you to look like Aphrodite in this dress?" Taehyung slips his hand from your waist. "Can I spin you?"

You nod and distance your body from his to prepare to spin into him. "If my memory serves right, you told me Aphrodite couldn't compare to me. Not that I look like her," you respond to his prior question.

"Ah that's right," he hums. "That's even better."

Taehyung's slender arms wrap around your waist when you get to the end of your twirls. Your back presses tight against his chest as he brings his lips near your ear. "You remember when I asked you if you wanted to know my favorite position? Well, this is one of them, darling."

Your breaths get shorter as you take in his charm and you're forced to look into the crowd of people in front of you. Most are busy dancing with their own partners but a few stragglers smile in your direction.

"You make a lovely couple," one older woman says to you both. "You'll make beautiful children."

"Oh we're not–"

"Yes, we will. Thank you, madame," Taehyung cuts in and you pull yourself from his hold to face him.

"Tae, what the hell are you saying?" His face sculpted from the gods themselves stares down at you in a devilish smirk.

"Is it too hot now?" He teases as he refers to your comment minutes ago about it getting too close to the hot zone.

"You're drunk aren't you?" You gently accuse with your arms crossing over your chest.

"I'm not." He snakes his arms back around you smoothly. "I have to drive you home tonight. What kind of man would I be if I got drunk?"

You let him pull you into himself again and this time when he does you feel the outline of an erection forming in his trousers.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he's not small that's for damn sure.

"How are you feeling __? Getting tired or you wanna stay longer?"

You smirk. "I should be asking you that seeing you have a situation down there."

"Shit—" he quickly retracts his hands on your waist and backs away from you. "I'm sorry, I know we've been flirting around but I don't want to you to think that's all I'm here for."

"Its okay Taehyung, it's just a biological response," you try to soothe. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but it's because of you," he stresses. "I want you to know that I'm into you romantically and not just horny with lust."

Your heart clenches and your feet move to approach him on their own. You cup his cheeks with your hands and stare deep into his coffee-black eyes. "Taehyung, I've had my share of male suitors who have all been horny with lust and nothing else. I never thought for a second you were one of them okay? Plus, you're not the only one worked up tonight." You bite your cheek, unsure what'll come from admitting to the following.

"I like you too Taehyung," you finish.

"You do?" He asks with stars in his eyes, same blinding smile as usual.

You nod in affirmation.

"Is this the part where I get to kiss you?" His lids relax as he waits for your response.

"I suppose you can. Are you a good kisser?"

Taehyung snorts lightly and surprises you with a quick peck to your lips. But when he tilts his head back to look you in the eye again, you pull his face back to yours and press your lips fully on his.

Taehyung finds your waist with his fingers again the longer and deeper the kiss gets. He moves his soft lips on yours firmly then sucks on your bottom lip until his tongue is granted access into your mouth.

"Tae," you moan his name quietly. "People are starting to stare."

"And?"

You reluctantly break the kiss. "We should probably finish this in the car."

"I'd much rather have you finish in my bed though," he says before thinking it through. "Shit—sorry I did it again."

Taehyung's lips move against yours roughly as he makes out with you in the back seat. You decided I'd be easier to kiss without the center console getting in the way.

"You know I don't like putting out on the first date but...how long until you have to return to Seoul?" You tug his blonde hair as his hands wander up and down your torso.

"Two months," he replies, slightly pained. "That's actually something we should talk about if this is going where I think it is."

"Do you not do long distance relationships?"

"I don't know." He brings his lips to the side of your neck, sucking on the delicate skin. "I've never done it before. Have you?"

You shake you head. "No but I heard it's not easy."

Taehyung moves away from your neck to take your hands in his and presses a kiss to them. "I guess we have a few choices then. One, we stop here and sum it up to a nice evening out where I got to steal a kiss the most beautiful woman. I might cry myself to sleep later," he jokes but you wouldn't out it completely past him.

"Two, we make the best of it while I'm here. I'll take you out every night possible until I have to leave. We call it a temporary relationship of sorts. Or my personal favorite, we date with intent and I'll visit you every chance I get. I'll even relocate if necessary."

"God Taehyung, I don't even know. How can you decide so soon?"

"The moving part was too much, I know. I just meant that I want to be serious. Or at least give it a shot. But if that's something that doesn't work for you then we should probably stop here."

"I want to go out again though. I don't want to stop."

"So what?"

"Call me crazy but let's be serious. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Let's fucking do this." You go to kiss him again but he doesn't let you.

"Wait, __. You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I know there's a lot of grey areas to consider but I'd hate to miss out on something amazing because of a potential threat. We go out and if it works out well, then maybe...one of us can relocate. And if it doesn't then we gave it our best."

"Alright," he slowly leans his face towards you again. "If you're on board then I am too. Since we're doing it this way....do you want me to take you home?"

You shake your head in rejection. "Take me to your bed Taehyung."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful you always make a fool out of me."

Taehyung traces down the curves of your body with cool hands as you stand in front of him in nothing but your black lingerie on. He's asked that your ruby necklace stay on too which did throw you off guard a tad.

His shirt is off himself, revealing his lean, tanned torso. His pants are off as well, showing off his his muscular thighs. No wonder he's one of the most wanted models in the world.

He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Is this designer?" He asks and you nod. "Of course, only the finest lace should be allowed to touch your body." Slender fingers dance across the cups of your bra, feeling the fabric carefully. He's not gropping at all.

"You're a flatterer aren't you?" You look him in the eye and your heart skips a beat. He's staring back at you with a similar intensity as the shoot earlier. Just like a panther, you think —alluring, dangerous, and incapable of escaping.

"Not flattering darling. Admiring," he responds lowly. "Can I remove it?" He leans forward to reach behind your back and graze across the hooks of the bra. His lips press a kiss to the space just below your ear as he does.

"Y-yes, please do," your voice hitches.

Taehyung unfastens the material from your body and you shake it off your arms and let it fall on the floor.

"Fuck," he swears and nibbles the edge of your ear while he palms your bare breasts. He thumbs at your nipples a little until their pebbling to his satisfaction. "Are you sure I can't make you my muse for my next painting?"

You chuckle and let him mouth at one of your breasts. "Maybe in time—oh god that feels good," you moan his tongue licks across you nipple.

"In time? Seems we've made some progress. You gave me a flat out no this morning." Taehyung lowers himself on his knee and presses a kiss to your bare waist. Its gentle and featherlike. He then fiddles with the edge of your lace panties as he did with your bra.

"That's because we were strangers, coworkers. However you want to call it."

"Mm, you have a point. May I?" He asks for permission and you nod with a small whine. His fingers brushing around your hips, nearing your ass only hightens your arousal.

Once he drags the thin material down your legs you step out of them and kick them to the side. Taehyung groans deeply when your center is exposed to him.

"Gods I want to lick this pussy so much. Will you let me eat you out tonight?"

"Fuck Tae," you card through his blonde hair. "Yes."

"Lets get you on my bed," he grunts, getting up from his kneeled position. He leads you to the edge of his bed where you crawl on top of his rich comforter, ass in full view as he follows behind you.

Once you're settled on your back Taehyung pushes your legs up and spreads your thighs wide open. He then crouches between them and kisses you inner thighs.

"You're very wet down here," he mumbles. "Do you want fingers first?"

"Three please," you request, already clawing at the sheets.

"Three?" Taehyung lifts his head to look at you. "You're certain you want to start with three?"

You chuckle. "I have the feeling that I'm going to need to take at least three fingers and your tongue before I can take your cock wholely. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He smirks and brings a slender finger up your slit. "No, you couldn't be more right." He pushes the finger all the way in, sinking between your velvety walls.

"Ohh," you moan.

Taehyung adds another, pumping and curling both fingers before adding the third. "So wet baby, do you hear yourself?"

The squelching sound of his fingers working in your pussy causes your core to clench and a streak of pearly white liquid to run down your thigh. Taehyung grows feral at the sight and starts pumping into you at a faster pace.

"Goddamn you're a sensitive one. When's the last time you were fingered?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably two years ago?"

"Well allow me to reacquaint you with such pleasure."

Taehyung continues to work in your pussy with his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every push and curl. Strings of profanities leave your mouth as he does this and when he licks his tongue over your folds you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck Tae, don't stop! So good, oh my god," you moan and sink your fingers in his hair.

He doesn't stop at all, he doesn't slow down either. His fingers eventually pull out of you after a dozen more pumps to make room for his tongue to dip in your pussy. He teases your clit too which is all you needed to send you over the edge.

"I'm coming Tae," you say as your come on his tongue. He groans at the act and cleans up as much left over spillage as he can before moving away from your center.

"I love the way you taste," he licks the corner of his lips and makes his way up your body until he's hovering over your face. Taehyung presses a hard kiss to your lips after with traces of your come still on his tongue.

"Don't you agree?" He asks when he gives you a breath.

"I think I'd prefer the taste of something else instead," you respond with eyes flickering to his crotch.

He smirks and brings a hand up to graze the ruby necklace that's still around your neck. "You want my cock in your mouth baby? Wanna suck on it nice and firm between those pretty lips?"

"I do. Want to make you feel good too and taste your come."

"Mm," he groans. "Don't temp me darling. I'd really much rather come in your tight pussy."

"In a condom," you remind him.

"Yes of course, but still, in your pussy," he replies. "But who am I to deny you of what you want. Pick one, in your mouth or in your cunt?"

Your pussy clenches at his casualness. "Do I have to pick just one?"

"Fucking hell," he seethes. "You're a little greedy for our first time together aren't you?"

"ijuswansucuok."

"What?"

"I just want to suck your cock," you repeat. "But if I had to choose I want you to fuck me."

Taehyung gets off the bed hearing your words and sticks his thumbs in his briefs. "I'll tell you what," he pushes his underwear down to let his cock bounce free. It's huge, vein tracing up the underside, and leaking with pre-cum at the tip.

"I'll let you suck me off any other time because as you can see, I'm inches away from blowing my load already. But to make up for it, I'll let you have your pick of any position you want."

Your eyes train on his throbbing length as he crawls back to you on the bed. You know you should control yourself but you can't help but reach out and touch it.

"Oh fuuck," he clenches his teeth as your hand tightens around him. Your thumb traces his slit, rubbing circles on it. "God your fingers feel heavenly on me. But I need you to stop and tell me what position you want to be in, please."

"Doggy and can you make me squirt?"

"Yes fuck," he moans as you keep teasing his slit. "Face the headboard and get on your hands and knees."

You do as as he says and thank god you did because he was seconds away from thrusting up in your hand. Taehyung grabs a condom from the drawer by his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth. He then rolls it down his think length until he completely covered.

"Ready?" He asks you.

"Put it in me Tae. Need you inside me, please."

"I'm going to ease in alright? I'm pretty fucking big and I don't want to hurt you." At that he clamps his hands around your waist and starts nudging his cock into your entrance.

"Oh fuck—" you screw your eyes shut at the stretch. So good but he's right, he's too big. You don't know how he's going to fit himself all the way in you.

"Keep breathing darling and relax your muscles. We're taking this really slow until I can bottom out."

You do as he says as he continues to sink his length into you. "Taehyung, Taehyung fuck it feel so good but god you're a beast."

"I know and you're doing so good for me," he coos. "We're about halfway there. You're pussy feels amazing around me. Still wet with your come."

You grip the mattress and let out moan after moan. "You're only half-way in me? God I feel like I'm being split in half."

Taehyung pulls himself out of you then thrusts back in, gently but firm enough to jolt your whole body forward. He repeats the motion with each thrust going deeper than the last.

"Shit!" He groans as he beats himself into you. "So close baby. I'm almost all the way in."

"Taehyungtaehyungtaehyung," is the only word coming from you. All you feel is pleasure as he thrusts himself into you. It's been so long since you felt this good, and who the hell would have guessed it'd be Kim Taehyung to remind you of such feelings.

"There we go," he grunts as he finally, finally bottoms out. "There we fucking go baby, how are you feeling?" He asks as he picks up his pace.

"Fuck me—harder Tae," your moans are incoherent as your whole body to Taehyung.

The next ten minutes are nothing but skin slapping against skin as his cock beats inside of you, desperately working you up to another orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Taehyung pulls himself all the way back then snaps his hips back in, making you dizzy with arousal. "Look at you taking my big cock all at once. Just so eager to please huh? Like the way I fill you up?"

"Yes, yes I do," you pant, sweat dripping from your forehead. If you looked over your shoulder you'd see Taehyung doing the same. "I'm getting close Tae!"

"Go ahead and play with your clit for me then," he growls. "You must be so sore down there."

You quickly reach a hand down to your clit, circling it while Taehyung thrusts himself into you wholeheartedly. "Oh god, I'm almost there. I feel it Tae," you moan as the cord inside you gets tighter, threatening to break any second.

"Go on, coat my cock with your slick darling. Show me how good I'm making you feel as I rearrange your guts. You feel it deep in your stomach can't you? Fuck, I'm close myself!"

You grind your hips on his cock a few times and with that you reach your high, releasing all over Taehyung. But despite your second orgasm, his cock keeps thrusting into you.

"Can you give me one more? Need to make you squirt."

"Uh I don't know Tae, I'm not sure if I can c-come again."

"Yes you can and you will." He fucks into as hard as he can at that, no other words come from him other than deep groans. You on the other hand can't stop screaming.

"Too much Taehyung, I can't, please, need you to come. Fuck!" Despite your protest you are indeed close to a other orgasm; the third one of the night. You pussy uncontrollably clenches around Taehyung as his cock starts twitching inside you.

"Just a little more darling, getting so close. Gonna make you feel so good," he promises as his thrusts get sloppier.

"You already made me feel good Tae, want you to come too."

"I am," he replies, finally releasing. "Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"You're squirting baby. Making a mess all over me and my thousand dollar sheets."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-fuck. I'll replace them!"

"Like hell you will," he pulls out of you, ties his condom off and tosses in the trash next to his bed. He then flips you on your back and captures your lips roughly. "These sheets are mine and they'll stay mine just like you will from now on. As long as I can help it at least. Sound good?"

"Okay Taehyung," you nod. "Yours."

"Good, now how does a bath sound?"

"Fantastic," you exhale and close your eyes.

"Taehyung, Taehyung wake up." You shake the man by the shoulders next to you with both hands. "Get up get up get up!"

"What's the emergency?" He rubs his tired eyes as you move to leap up from the bed. You have the sheets wrapped tight around your body.

"We have a shoot at the beach with the team in half an hour! Hurry up and put your clothes on, you have to drive me back to my house so I can change into proper clothing."

"Why don't you wear one of my shirts or something?" He yanks your wrist towards him until you're forced to loosen your grip on his sheets and are forced atop his chest.

"Seriously? Why don't we just tell them we slept together at that point? You're crazy Kim Taehyung."

"You're making it sound like we had a one night stand," he pouts for the first time and you chuckle at how cute he looks.

"Of course it's not that Tae, it's just we still work together. We can't have them knowing we have a thing this early."

"Can we at least tell Jungkook?"

"No!" You playfully slap his shoulder. "Stop being so obsessed with him. He's got a girlfriend. Now get up, we really need to go."

"Alright, but give me a kiss first." He puckers up his lips and you concede by pressing your lips to his. "Are you a morning sex person?" He asks.

"No, we need to leave." You hop out of the bed and race to his bathroom.

"Goddamn it," he curses by himself. "Day one of being your girlfriend and she's already leaving you high and dry."

Taehyung throws the covers off his naked body and walks to the bathroom to join you in the shower—nothing but a big, happy grin on his face.

a/n: oh my gosh guys, this took me a long time. But I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think 💞 lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 ☺

Masterlist

Taglist:

@faiyh @brieeoche @lovemeforeternity @daughterof-aphrodit @daughterof-aphrodit @jjkluver7 @mystaerytete @sparklingocean @main-bangtansmauyeondan @ahgasegotarmy116

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts au #bts imagines #fic:reflections #kookslastbutton

[jadagul]

I'm sorry if this is a stupid question. Why is it harder for larger countries to have citizens with a high median level of wealth? What makes it harder for a country with the US population vs, say, Japan? I can imagine obvious challenges, but also reasons why larger countries can make their median citizen wealthier more easily. Economies of scale, more chances for innovation that can later be widely adopted, strong institutions having outsized effects. Can you help me understand the logic more?

It's not a stupid question! It's a common but incredibly counterintuitive thing that comes up in statistical comparisons. The short version is: you get more variance with small samples than with large samples.

To start off, let's point out this isn't just theoretical. According to the IMF, the twelve highest GDPs per capita are in this chart:

(If you use a different source the numbers change somewhat but not dramatically so.)

If you rank countries by population, those are rank 122, 163, 118, 134, 162.5, 95, 99, 115, 3, 191, 169, and 103.5. The US is in position 3 and the next-highest is at 95 (out of about 200).

Conversely let's look at the ten most populous nations:

When ranked by GDP per capita, those come out at ranks 73, 127, 8, 98, 138, 144, 87, 128, 56, and 71.

And notice already this looks different: these numbers are mostly in like the middle half, whereas the others were almost all in the bottom half. And that makes sense based on the theoretical argument I'm about to make.

A big country has a lot of people in it. And more than that, it has a lot of places in it. And while those places all have a bunch of stuff in common (like being part of the same country), they also have a bunch of things different from each other. So you can think of the per capita GDP of a big country as, like, averaging together the per capita GPDs of all the regions in it. (And then the per capita GDP of a region is a weighted average of the incomes of all the people in it.)

If you look at a city-state like Singapore or Hong Kong, you're "averaging" together one city. And for a small country like Ireland or Luxembourg, you're averaging one city with a small amount of hinterlands. That means that if that one city is unusually lucky, the whole country is rich.

(And if that one city is unusually unlucky, the whole country is poor. The ten least populated countries on the list that have IMF data have GDP per capita ranks of 146, 119, 95, 9, 152, 60, 106, 16, 134, 52, which are all over the map. None of them are at the very bottom, and I assume that's because cities are richer than non-cities, in general. And also maybe a city-state that's also dirt poor gets swallowed up.)

And if you look at our list of richest countries, you can really see this effect. Ireland is a tax haven for the EU, and traditionally so is San Marino. Singapore is a weirdly-managed outlier city state, as is San Marino (and Hong Kong used to be). Qatar and the UAE are all drafting off of oil revenue, and for that matter so is Norway.

And to drive the point home, let's look at the list of US metro areas by per capita GDP.

San Jose beats every country in the world hollow. San Francisco is tied with the top entries on the list. And our tenth-richest metro area would place fifth on the list of countries by per capita gdp. (Contrast Paris at €60 and Berlin at like €42k, if my quick googling is right.)

And then to drive the point home, look at the top of the list. The richest metro area in the US isn't San Francisco or New York or Los Angeles (which at 18th and $86k doesn't even show up on that list up there, but would still put it at 8th in the world); the richest metro area in the US is some place called Midland TX. It's a small town that sits in the middle of a giant oil field, and as I understand it it's basically a base camp for all the oil work out there. So it has one thing going on, and that thing is super lucrative, and distributed across relatively few people; so it gets the top spot.

And that's why the richest countries are likely to be small.

#politics #economics #statistics

[workersolidarity]

🌍 🏦💵 🚨

FIVE RICHEST BILLIONAIRES DOUBLE THEIR WEALTH SINCE 2020 WHILE 5 BILLION ARE MADE POORER

Oxfam International, a British-founded International Charitable organization based in Nairobi, Kenya, says the world's richest people have managed to double their wealth since 2020, as 5 billion people are made poorer as a result of a "decade of division."

Oxfam made the claims in a press release on its recently published report released Monday, January 15th on inequality and global corporate power called "Inequality Inc."

According to Oxfam, the world's richest people have more than doubled their wealth from $405 billion to $869 billion since 2020, a rate equivelent to $14 million per hour, while approximately 5 billion people have been made poorer in the same time period.

"If current trends continue," the statement says, "the world will have its first trillionaire within a decade but poverty won't be eradicated for another 229 years."

Oxfam looks to the Davos gathering of the world's largest corporations, pointing to the valuations of the top ten largest companies, together worth more than $10.2 trillion.

“We’re witnessing the beginnings of a decade of division, with billions of people shouldering the economic shockwaves of pandemic, inflation and war, while billionaires’ fortunes boom. This inequality is no accident; the billionaire class is ensuring corporations deliver more wealth to them at the expense of everyone else,” Oxfam's International interim Executive Director Amitabh Behar is quoted as saying.

“Runaway corporate and monopoly power is an inequality-generating machine: through squeezing workers, dodging tax, privatizing the state, and spurring climate breakdown, corporations are funneling endless wealth to their ultra-rich owners. But they’re also funneling power, undermining our democracies and our rights. No corporation or individual should have this much power over our economies and our lives —to be clear, nobody should have a billion dollars”.

According to Oxfam, Billionaires increased their wealth by $3.3 trillion since 2020, a growth rate three times faster than inflation.

Oxfam adds that, despite representing just 21% of the global population, the countries of the Global North own 69% of global wealth, with Global North countries home to 74% of global billionaire wealth.

Further, the top 1% own 43% of all global financial assets, with billionaires owning 48% of wealth in the Middle East, 50% in Asia, and 47% in Europe.

In addition to overall wealth, 148 of the world's largest corporations raked in $1.8 trillion in total net profits, a 52% increase over the period from 2018-2021.

Corporate windfalls increased to nearly $700 billion, with the report finding that for every $100 in profits made by the top 96 major corporations between July 2022 and June 2023, $82 was paid out to wealthy shareholders.

Oxfam International interim Executive Director Amitabh Behar says that “Monopolies harm innovation and crush workers and smaller businesses. The world hasn’t forgotten how pharma monopolies deprived millions of people of COVID-19 vaccines, creating a racist vaccine apartheid, while minting a new club of billionaires."

The Oxfam press release goes on to point our that people are working harder and for longer, often for poverty wages in unsafe jobs, adding that the wages of nearly 800 million people have not kept up with inflation, losing $1.5 trillion in value over the last two years, the equivalent of nearly a month's lost wages for each individual worker.

Oxfam also found that, of the 1'600 largest companies, less than 0.4% of them are publicly committed to paying employees a living wage.

Oxfam shows how a "war on taxation" by large corporations has pushed the effective tax rates on corporations to fall by a third in recent decades, while relentless privitization of public services like education and water services have expanded massively.

“We have the evidence. We know the history. Public power can rein in runaway corporate power and inequality —shaping the market to be fairer and free from billionaire control. Governments must intervene to break up monopolies, empower workers, tax these massive corporate profits and, crucially, invest in a new era of public goods and services,” said Behar.

“Every corporation has a responsibility to act but very few are. Governments must step up. There is action that lawmakers can learn from, from US anti-monopoly government enforcers suing Amazon in a landmark case, to the European Commission wanting Google to break up its online advertising business, and Africa’s historic fight to reshape international tax rules.”

Oxfam offers three notes on how governments can rectify the situation, including the following:

🔹 Revitalizing the state. A dynamic and effective state is the best bulwark against extreme corporate power. Governments should ensure universal provision of healthcare and education, and explore publicly-delivered goods and public options in sectors from energy to transportation.

🔹 Reining in corporate power, including by breaking up monopolies and democratizing patent rules. This also means legislating for living wages, capping CEO pay, and new taxes on the super-rich and corporations, including permanent wealth and excess profit taxes. Oxfam estimates that a wealth tax on the world’s millionaires and billionaires could generate $1.8 trillion a year.

🔹 Reinventing business. Competitive and profitable businesses don’t have to be shackled by shareholder greed. Democratically-owned businesses better equalize the proceeds of business. If just 10 percent of US businesses were employee-owned, this could double the wealth share of the poorest half of the US population, including doubling the average wealth of Black households.

#source

@WorkerSolidarityNews

#inequality #wealth inequality #us news #us wealth #global inequality #wealth #capitalism #billionaires #richest people #politics #news #geopolitics #world news #global news #international news #global politics #world politics #international politics #international #international affairs #united states #davos #wef #world economic forum #billionaire #wealth accumulation #imperialism #us imperialism #western imperialism #socialism

[robertreich]

The Republican War On Teachers

There’s a war being waged on America’s teachers,  and we must stand up for them before it’s too late.

Teachers watch over America’s most precious asset — our children.

They dedicate their lives to caring for our youth, serving as role models, and making sure that future generations are set up for success.

So why on Earth are we treating them so badly?

Our nation’s teachers are not only working long, demanding hours inside and outside of the classroom — but they’re blamed these days for almost everything imaginable.

They are yelled at by parents over masks, reprimanded by school boards about books they assign or let their students read, vilified by politicians for teaching honest lessons about America’s history of racism and genocide, even told to arm themselves against the possibility that their classrooms might be invaded by murderous young men with semi-automatics.

Teachers are also making less money than they were ten years ago. Their average salary today is around $66,000, but when adjusted for inflation, that’s a $2,000 pay cut compared to 2012. As recently as 2018, nearly 600,000 public school teachers had to work a second job.

We’re also saddling our nation’s educators with huge debt. Nearly half of teachers, 45%, have taken out student loans to pay for the advanced degrees often required of them — with an average debt load of $55,800.

On top of all this, 94% of teachers have had to dip into their own pockets to buy school supplies. This, in the richest country in the history of the world! And at a time when the average Wall Street employee bonus for 2021 hit a record high of $257,500. It would take the typical teacher almost four years to make that much — and that’s just a bonus for Wall Street traders — a massive golden cherry on top of their ever-sweeter salaries.  

I’m guessing Wall Street firms don’t make traders pay for their own pencils.

Are Wall Street bankers really worth so much more than the people we ask to care for and teach our children? P-l-e-a-s-e.

Yet none of this has stopped Republicans from accelerating their war on teachers, and turning educators into political pawns in their battle to advance a radical agenda.

Since January 2021, 35 states have introduced 137 bills limiting what educators are allowed to talk with their students about – with regard to race, American history, politics, sexual orientation and gender identity.

Governors Greg Abbott of Texas and Ron DeSantis of Florida are poster boys for this campaign, even supporting legislation that intrudes on a teacher's ability to craft lesson plans.

Republicans are quick to lob the terms “critical race theory” or “wokeism” against any curriculum that allows our youth to express their identities, advances critical thinking skills, and is honest about our nation’s tragic racial history — calling it “indoctrination” or “brainwashing.”

Why?

Because the biggest threat facing the Republican Party is a new multi-racial generation of young people unafraid to speak truth to power.

Ultimately, if we don’t learn from our history — which often means learning from our mistakes — there’s no way we can tackle our nation’s most pressing problems while building a better, more inclusive future. The foundation for this future begins in the classroom.

So how can we fight back against this war on America’s teachers?

First, pay them twice as much as they’re earning. Bare minimum.

Second, fight for their freedom to teach. Many of the decisions that affect teachers' day-to-day work — as well as the lives of students — are made at local school board meetings. So, go to one. Better yet, run for a position on your local school board.

Third, listen to our teachers. Do you know what’s been lost in the cultural and political war against education in this country? The voices of ACTUAL teachers. If we’re going to truly support them and repair the harm done to our education system, they need to be heard.

Defend our teachers. Pay our teachers. Value our teachers. The work they do determines our future.

#youtube #videos #video #politics #teachers #education #war #republicans #democrats

[cordeliawhohung]

From My Corner of the Universe

Miguel x Fem!Reader

Chapter One: The Way it Is

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, this first chapter is very chill but the second chapter goes 0 to 60 real quick.

wc: 5335

Despite growing up in a hostile world, you're one of the very few humans still made of warm flesh and blood. Working two jobs is taking a toll on your life, but you find your gaze lifting up to the sparkling heights of Olympus, where societies best live in luxury. However, your dream is disrupted when a certain superhero mistakes you for an anomaly. You find yourself in a strange new world with views you never imagined seeing, but you can't stay there forever. Eventually, you have to return back home, even if it kills you.

Earth-1717

In a world full of metal and wires and lights, you had grown to believe you were one of the only people still made of flesh and blood in Digi York. Everything in your life was synthetic. The plastic trees that sprouted out of the ground along your walk to the tram, the automated voice that greeted you as you boarded, the optic implants of the man attempting to stare up your skirt. And you? Well, you were this simple, soft creature; you always had been. That was one of the first things that hinted to you that you didn’t fully belong in that world.

The metal whirring and hum of the tram slowed as the magnets that powered the system came to a halt. A soft breeze blew through the doors as they opened, and the automated voice coming from the speaker above your head wished you a good day while the others around you pushed their way off the tram. Once the flood of bodies and creaking cybernetics ceased, you followed after them, stepping foot into the smoggy air around you.

Up at the top of the city, in the highest part of the skyline, was an area the people called Olympus, though it was about the furthest thing from heaven you could get. The richest of the rich ate, worked, and slept in Olympus, never daring to step foot in the lower levels of the city. And though you worked up there, with the people who would consider themselves gods, you were nowhere near their level in society.

You continued along your normal path as you made your way to a private elementary school shoved in some far corner on top of the Crystal High Rise. The bell had just rung the moment you stepped foot on the plastic turf that attempted to surround the schoolhouse in whatever false greenery it could manage. You looked around at all the other people standing around you, and you could feel your stomach sink.

A plain white blouse and a short black skirt or plain black pants was the mark all of Olympus’s nursemaids wore, including yourself. Apparently a majority of society’s high rollers could afford everything in the world but the time to give their children any sort of attention or care. And that’s where you came in.

Leto Onasis was a young ten year old girl you had been taking care of for the last five years. You didn’t exactly enjoy the child’s company; like most other citizens of Olympus, she was snobby, and inadvertently rude, but understandably was a byproduct of her surroundings. There was only so much kindness you could attempt to teach someone who had been raised to believe that you would always be a second class citizen compared to her.

“Hello, Leto,” you greeted the young girl.

She looked up at you, her lilac tipped hair swaying back and forth in her ponytail. Her eyes were an unnatural blue, much too bright for her to have been born with. Optics her father had outfitted her with when she was seven. Something that was rather unnecessary, in your opinion.

“I’m hungry,” the girl responded, brushing off your greeting as usual.

Holding out your hand, you mustered the brightest smile that you could. “Let’s get you home, then. Your father bought supplies to make katsu curry.”

Ignoring you, Leto took your hand and began to lead the way. It was the same answer she always gave you; silence. Had you cared a bit more about raising someone else’s child, you would have thought of a better greeting, something that would engage her more, but really, you couldn’t care less as long as you were getting paid.

And so the two of you traversed the high rise, walking past sculptures that had to be cleaned monthly due to the smog and smoke, and fountains full of water so pure you could drink from it. The place looked just as mystical as the historians described old Greece as, which you were sure was the intention. You felt a little bittersweet attempting to enjoy the scenery, though, and instead you focused your full attention to your task at hand.

Five minutes passed and Leto was using the implant in her wrist to automatically unlock the door to the Onasis’s impressive apartment. Crystal chandeliers, rugs so plush you could dive into, and couches so large to host night parties littered the lush area. The faint stench of expensive wine and other alcohol still lingered in the air from a party Leto’s father no doubt hosted the previous night. The girl didn’t seem that bothered by it at all.

Leto’s bored eyes glanced around the living room as she plopped herself onto the suede couch. She didn’t even bother to say anything as she turned the TV on and began to flicker through the channels one by one until she found something that interested her.

Monday to Friday, from three to nine, that was your life. Taking care of a young girl who saw you as nothing more than a tool, all for a man who basically undressed you with his eyes every time he saw you.

You would cooked the meals, wash her up, and put her to bed no later than eight thirty where you used your last half hour to clean up any messes you had made. When it would eventually strike nine at night, and Leto’s father still hadn’t arrived home yet, you’d waste your time staring out of the window. He would always promise to be home no later than nine, but out of your many years working there, that had only happened a handful of times. Still, the dining room housed large floor to ceiling windows that gave you a decent view of the area around you, or, at least whatever you could see through the smog, and you didn’t mind looking through them for a while.

Fires from Canada and the midwest had been choking the skies of Digi York long before you were born, which gave the sky an orange-gold tint, stained by a blood red sun and moon. And though it was the same sky that you had been looking up at since you were a child, it drew you in every evening as shades of purple attempted to shine through in the sunset.

“I told you, no later than five tomorrow,” a muffled voice grumbled from outside the door. A high pitched electronic ping sounded and the door to the apartment slid open, revealing Leto’s father, Cronus.

He was a rather abrasive man personality wise, but wasn’t half bad to look at if you could get past all his augmentations. Optics that glowed lime green, implants that created long, circular scars on the side of his head where his hair refused to grow anymore, lines that went up the back of his neck, hinting at the fact that he had a spinal implant. Then, of course, there was his terrible scowl.

“Why? Because if you deliver later than five, then the deal is off, and then I’m fucked. So you’re not going to mess this up,” Cronus continued as he began to take his coat off. He looked around the apartment and those glowing green eyes landed on you. He did his usual glance over your body before he sauntered over to you. “I gotta go. Don’t fuck this up.”

Despite the fact he had obviously been talking to someone, there was no phone in his hand, or button to be pressed to hang up. All of that was thanks to neural and audio implants in his head, the same kind that gave him those long scars on the side of his skull. It was a little off putting, watching someone talk to someone else using an implant, but you didn’t say anything about it.

“How was she?” he asked, his tone changing the moment it was directed at you.

“She was great,” you answered, knowing full well that even if she wasn’t, Cronus wouldn’t bother with any type of punishment anyway.

“Good, good,” Cronus hummed as his eyes flickered to the window. “Sorry for keeping you so late. Lost track of time.” He paused for a moment, his hand reached out to adjust the collar of your blouse. The cold metal of his fake hand carefully brushed the warm skin of your neck. “You know, if you need a place to stay for the night, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I know how dangerous it gets in The Blue.”

It wasn’t rare for Cronus to play games like that with you. The man never really lost track of time; hard to lose something you were never watching for in the first place. Between the way he would find any reason to touch you and the annoying, lustful look he sent your way, you knew he was being far from generous. You were certain there would be a price he’d expect you to pay.

No wonder his wife divorced him.

“Thank you for the offer Mr. On- er- Cronus, but my friends are waiting for me back home,” you excused. It was the same alibi you used every time he attempted to get you to stay, but you comforted yourself in at least trying to convince him someone was expecting you.

Smirking to himself, Cronus nodded his head slightly as he removed his hand from your shirt and motioned to the door. Taking your queue, you bid the man farewell as you walked through the exit, painfully aware of how he stared at your ass while you walked away.

But he wouldn’t be the last one to look at you like that for the night.

The Blue was the part of Digi York where a majority of the citizens lived, including yourself. Every middle class bastard was shoved into the lower parts of the city, far enough away from the towers that made up Olympus, yet close enough to yearn for that glory. You were one of those many middle class bastards, a grunt that trudged around the wards in an attempt to scrounge up as much extra cash as possible.

Your poison of choice was a club called The Koi, named after some breed of fish that had gone extinct a few centuries ago. It was a bustling strip club adorned with holo projections of the fish swimming around high into the air, well above everyone’s head. Girls with flashy clothes and swaying bodies danced on small platforms for everyone to view, and the dark, thumping music sent harsh thuds through your chest. And while you would have certainly made more money working as one of the strippers, dancing up on one of those platforms, you opted for the less taxing job of bartending for them instead.

Not to say that you still weren’t there for people to ogle at. You certainly weren’t afraid to flaunt your body off if it meant it brought in more tips. So you wore a crop top that was more akin to a bra than anything else, and shorts so small they were just thicker underwear. But you didn’t stop there; body glitter that made you sparkle under the neon lights, and a bubblegum pink wig that gave you a more interesting look without frying your hair.

That was your life. Taking care of a whiny kid during the day, and whiny men during the night.

“Hey, babe,” a smooth voice greeted at your side.

You turned to look on your left, and your eyes were met with a large woman. Her shoulders were about twice as broad as you were, and both her arms were a silvery white due to her augmentations. Her hair was very similar in color to your wig, but a bit more blue than it was fully pink, and it was so short it was spiky. She leaned towards you and gently nudged you with her shoulder.

“Trying to get a free drink out of me?” you grinned.

“I mean, if you’re offering…” the woman teased.

Lucia was someone you had grown close to since you started working at The Koi. She was what most people referred to as a Clank; someone who heavily modified their bodies with augmentations and implants. Normally they would be hired as bodyguards by some Olympian, but businesses would often hire them as bouncers or security, too. Any Clank too hot headed or unable to hold down a good job for long periods of time often turned to a life of darker crimes, as they often didn’t fit in anywhere else.

But not Lucia.

“If Dom finds out I’m giving you free drinks again, I think he’s going to kick my ass,” you said, leaning in to whisper the comment into her ear as best as you could over the blasting music.

“He’s not going to kick your ass. He’ll kick my ass. Or, he’ll try, anyway. If the fucker could even catch up to me,” Lucia chuckled, her eyes carefully scanning around at the patrons at the club.

Your conversation was briefly interrupted by a duo of men, both of who ordered a drink each. Out of all the things that survived from the previous centuries, it wasn’t the trees that filtered the air, or the produce that filled your stomach; it was the alcohol. The one true thing people couldn’t live without. Something to numb the pain.

At least they gave you a good tip.

“Have you seen the new vid?” Lucia spoke up after the men left to go watch the dancers. Her eyes were glued to a small, handheld device in her hands.

“Which one?” you ask, leaning against her shoulder to get a better view.

“Spider-Man, dumbass.”

It was a stupid question to ask, and you had sighed the very moment it left your lips. Of course it was a video of Spider-Man, Lucia had only been obsessed with the freak for the last few months. Spider-Man, some guy decked out in some of the most high tech cybernetics you had ever seen, had been around for at least two years. Well, maybe not around, but a rumor on the streets, a whisper in the back of the mind of anyone who even thought about doing something especially atrocious. Recently, he had seemed to gain more confidence in his actions, and had begun to do more of his crime fighting in the light, as proven by the shaky footage being shown to you via Lucia’s phone.

A mask covered half of Spider-Man’s face, revealing only his lips. His eyes were obscured by a metal covering that appeared to have eight eyes, just like a spider, which was the only part of him that was remotely comparable to the creature. The rest of his getup was sleek and black, which probably did him well in blending into the dark atmosphere that stained a majority of the city.

Spider-Man stood across the street from the cameraman, who was shaking in either fear or excitement as he recorded the events that unfolded in front of him. In front of the masked vigilante was some poor soul, attempting to run away with some sort of unfamiliar device in his hands. With about as much urgency as a bored child, Spider-Man strolled far behind the man.

In a swift motion, Spider-Man held out his hand, bending his wrist in an odd angle, and a cable shot out across the sidewalk, sticking to the perpetrator via magnet. The line went taut, and the man fell backwards, dropping his stolen goods.

“Ouch,” Lucia winced as she paused the video. “See, that’s why you always go with titanium implants. Poor bastard.”

“I suppose robbers or… whatever this guy is supposed to be, aren’t exactly the smartest,” you said, shaking your head.

“If you’re going to do something, do it right,” Lucia chuckled as she pocketed her phone. She stood there for a moment, leaning against the bar as she looked around the area, but you could tell that she wasn’t really taking any of it in. “But the specs on that guy, damn, I bet he’s burning to the touch with all that high tech shit he’s shoved in his body.”

You looked up at the woman and grinned. “You sound like you’re in love.”

“I might be.”

You had to admit, the idea of it made you laugh. Lucia was a very large woman, and though Spider-Man rivaled her height, he certainly didn’t have anything on how broad she was. You were convinced she probably had more muscles than he did too. In fact, Lucia often found any excuse possible to show off her toned stomach. Her physique was almost as important to her as her augmentations.

“So, how was it with the gods today?” Lucia asked sarcastically as she grabbed one of the many liquor bottles from behind you. “Cronus still trying to fuck you?”

Your mood was completely ruined the moment she brought that memory back up. His advances weren’t exactly surprising, as they had been going on for quite some time, but they were certainly exhausting.

“You know how dangerous it is in The Blue,” you said, mocking Cronus’s deep voice. “You can always stay here if you need. I’m beginning to wonder if I give in if he’ll start paying more than just the minimum.”

“Babe, don’t. Whatever extra money you’d make would just go towards treating whatever you’d catch from him.” Lucia shook her head as she poured herself a drink in a short glass, not even bothering to fill it with any ice. Neat, the way she got it every time. Just a glorified shot, in your opinion. “Such a rich fuck thing for him to say, too. Oh, I know your home is dangerous and disgusting because we stomp on the middle class for fun. I'm gonna use that as my advantage to try and sleep with you.”

Rolling her eyes, she took a quick sip of her drink before capping the bottle and placing it back on the glass shelf behind you. It seems that she was no longer worried about Dom catching her drinking on the job again.

“Hell, maybe he’s just curious about what organic pussy feels like,” Lucia suddenly added with a smirk.

It wasn’t her first time making that vulgar joke, really it was one that she made quite often. In fact, it was one of the first things she had said to you when you first started working at The Koi. Some asshole had decided to cop a feel with the excuse of how he needed to prove to himself you weren’t augmented. She cracked that joke after cracking the man's head over the side of the bar.

“Trust me, I’ve been told it’s not as interesting as it sounds,” you grumbled, adjusting the edge of your wig. “No built in vibrator for him.”

Lucia’s laugh came out roaring like an engine, loud and stuttering and shaking her whole body. Laughter was one of the only forces of nature you knew of that ever moved her.

Four o’clock rolled around, and Dom and Lucia had fought off any remaining drunks out of the club. Before you were able to start cleaning up, each of the strippers dropped by to have their routine farewell shot before returning home for the night. Even though they got free drinks, they were probably some of the best tippers you received on most nights. And after convincing you to take a shot with them, you were finally free to go home.

The air felt heavier outside, the thick weight of the smoke and smog held your shoulders down as if you would float away from the earth at any given moment without them. You wrapped a coat around your body, not because you were cold, things were never cold in Digi York, but because you weren’t exactly keen on gaining any more attention on the streets than you already would with the outfit you were wearing.

It wasn’t often that you felt unsafe when walking home. Despite the high crime rate that surrounded not only your area of work, but your home neighborhood, no one ever bothered you. Stared, sure, stalked you like prey until they realized you weren’t as interesting as you seemed, sure; but through it all, you remained one of the very few citizens to have no hands cause you harm. There were no augmentations anyone wanted to rip out of your skull, or anything of real value on your person; you were nothing more than just another pretty face.

Despite it all, true fear was sparked in your stomach the moment the alarms went off.

Loud and ear piercing, the alarms that sounded were haunting, echoing endlessly around the skyscrapers and high rises around you. The alarms were almost more terrifying than the events they warned against. Still, it gave you a sense of urgency, and you quickly began to cut your way across the skyway that connected the high rise that housed your work, and the one that housed your home.

You ducked into the apartment complex just as the first drops of rain began to splatter against the ground. A part of you wanted to stand in the doorway and watch every single droplet fall. There was something enchanting about the way the water would turn to mist against the asphalt and metal around you. It refracted the neon lights that littered the entirety of the city, giving your vision a blue haze. Maybe in some other lifetime you would reach out and touch it, feel the wetness from the sky sprinkle your body as if you were in a shower.

Instead, you shut the door behind you and began to jog down the stairs to your apartment.

Four months. That’s how long the elevator had been broken. And in a building that was nearing two hundred stories, you had gotten in the best shape of your life. Fortunately, there was one skyway every twenty stories or so, allowing people to exit without climbing the full height of the building. You hadn’t touched the actual ground, the real ground since you were a child, anyway. Still, your calves burned every afternoon when going to take care of Leto.

Luckily, your return home always had you walking down the stairs rather than up, and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your apartment door. You fumbled with your coat pockets for a short moment before pulling out a thin, white card. It was a proxy card one of your roommates had set up for you since you had no augmentations to open it automatically. Placing the card next to the receiver, a green light flashed on the lock of the door, and you were allowed to enter your apartment.

Usually things were quiet when you returned home from work, as your roommates would be settled in for the night. However, both of the girls were up and about, sitting on the couch next to each other with tired eyes as they flipped through channels on the television. The light from the screen reflected brightly on their faces in the dark room, but the moment you opened the door, their attention turned to you.

“Oh, thank god,” one of the girls spoke up, rubbing her eyes with her hands. “We were worried you had gotten caught out in the storm.”

Sighing, you allowed your coat to slip off of your shoulders, revealing your rather skimpy outfit as you sauntered over to sit on the sofa with them. The alarms continued to blare, though the sound of it was muffled with the door closing behind you and the sound of the rain pounding against the windows.

“I take it the alarm woke you up?” you asked, your eyes flickering to the television to find that they were watching some corny reality show.

“Scared the shit outta me,” the girl responded.

Smiling, you turned your attention back to the two girls on your left. The one you had been speaking the most with was Avi, your long time roommate and best friend. The two of you grew up in the same orphanage as children. Very few people who lived in The Blue had the luxury of being able to raise any kid they got stuck with, so stories like yours and Avi’s weren’t exactly rare or sad. Most people were too poor to afford to properly raise a child. But you had been roommates in childhood because of it, and it was the same in adulthood.

She was a beautiful girl with unnaturally pale-white skin and bleached hair. The color of her optics changed fairly often as her girlfriend would do her augmentations for free, but as of recently she seemed to be sporting a soft lilac purple. She had just about as many piercings as she did augmentations; her ears, nose, lips, bellybutton; anything that could be pierced on her was pierced.

Then there was your other roommate, and Avi’s girlfriend, Nova. She was an alluring dark skinned girl decorated with golden tattoos and just as many piercings as her lover, whose head was laying in her lap. She looked back and forth between the two of you as you spoke, a quiet smile on her stained lips.

“God, and I still have work tomorrow,” Avi groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Is it even worth going back to bed? I get up in a few hours to teach those little shits. Maybe I should just stay up…”

“You and I both know that’s a terrible idea,” Nova said with a hum, her eyes focused on the strands of Avi’s hair she was stroking.

Avi suddenly let out a terrible groan as she sat herself up, leaning her elbows on her knees. She bounced for a short moment before craning her head around to look at you.

“I shoulda been a stripper. Do you think they’re hiring at The Koi?” she asked.

You raised an eyebrow as you shook your head. “You do not want to work there, trust me.”

“What, because men will harass me?” she asked sarcastically. She paused for a moment as she leaned forward towards the coffee table that sat in front of the sofa, where she grabbed the remote sitting there. “I’m changing this stupid channel.”

“I was watching that!” Nova said in a quiet protest.

“Men already harass me,” Avi continued, violently pressing the buttons on the remote with her forefinger. “I might as well get tipped for it, right?”

You shook your head as you glanced at the TV. The alarms had finally ceased, making things a bit more quiet, allowing you to somewhat pay attention to the science channel Avi had flipped the channel over to. But the rain continued to pound against the building, creating an eerie drone.

“You’re a teacher. Out of the three of us, you’re probably the only one with a job that has a chance of getting you out of here,” you defended.

“Oh please,” Avi said in a sour tone. She leaned back against the couch, satisfied with the change in channels. Her arm reached up as she wrapped it around Nova, pulling herself closer to the woman. “Everyone knows the only way anyone gets out of The Blue is if some Olympian wants to fuck them bad enough they ask to get married.”

Really, you had no retort, because there wasn’t one. It was the truth, and also some fairytale story people tried to hold onto; that someone would love them enough to save them from the deepest levels of Digi York. As kids, you and Avi always dreamed of getting out of that city. Of going someplace cleaner, and living a better life. Eating fresh produce that wasn’t just near rotten scraps tossed down from Olympus, and drinking water that wasn’t just purified runoff from the acid rain that plagued your city.

No one spoke for a long while after that. The three of you stared forward at the screen that showcased some astrophysics, or a rocket launching, or what the world looked like back in the year 1969 before the Earth started to choke. There were blue skies, and even bluer oceans, and luscious forests that blanketed entire continents. Then, the screen would flash to the painful reminders of what your current earth looked like. The Infinity Fires raging in the north, choking the sky with smoke. Acid rain that made it impossible to grow anything in the barren soil. Pictures of species that used to roam the Earth among humans, now long gone and rotting in the ground.

The program ended a good twenty minutes later, and as it cut to a commercial of the latest muscle enhancement augmentations, Avi let out a soft sigh.

“I think I’m ready to go back to bed,” she admitted. “I think I’ll dream of going to the moon tonight.”

The two lovers bid you goodnight before wandering off down the hallway into their shared bedroom, and though you were rather tired from your day, you stayed out on the sofa. You found it difficult to fall asleep after getting off of work, no matter how exhausted you were from the day, so you did your best to bore yourself to sleep. The screen in front of you continued to flash with pictures of the past and present, and getting annoyed with the depressing reminder, you reached forward and began to flick through the channels.

“But… I love you!”

“...another case gone cold…”

“...Spider-Man apprehended…”

“...to me, young lady! You…”

You stopped. Something had caught your attention, and you had flipped too far through the channels. Pressing back, you found yourself watching one of the several local news outlets. An Olympian woman with unnaturally orange skin smiled on screen with teeth that were too white to be real. She continued with her segment on Spider-Man, the vigilante that Lucia had found herself obsessed with recently.

“...local gang in The Hitsugi, and left them on the doorsteps of the police station in the 23rd ward. These members were abducting young children and were selling them to bidders in a trafficking ring. Though police suspect the operation is much larger than the handful of members Spider-Man caught, they believe they have a strong lead. They hope to have the gang fully apprehended by the end of the week.”

Video after video flashed of several men, all tied to one another, stumbling around as police officers looked at them almost as if they didn’t know what to do with them. Then, of course, there were videos of Spider-Man himself. He never seemed to stick around long enough to give any useful information to law enforcement, not that they were particularly useful in the first place. He did enough work to get most of the job done and dropped the trash off and let someone else clean up the remainder of the mess.

Spider-Man had almost become a beacon of hope for many people in The Blue. You almost considered him as such, anyway. Almost. The man was doing good work, and taking out the trash bag by bag, but really, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. One lone sanitary worker attempting to clean a city creating trash faster than he could carry it. He was bound to drown, eventually.

Sighing, you turned the TV off, and a terrible quietness spread over the apartment. The rain had stopped; how long ago, you weren’t sure, but the silence was enough to form a pit of dread in your stomach. That haunting stillness of your apartment forced you to remember that no matter where you were in Digi York, you were bound to drown. Not even the tallest towers of Olympus could save you from a city swallowing itself from the ground up.

Find more here on my AO3

Masterlist

#miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel fanfic #there's a lot of world building in this sorry #this man has been rotting my brain #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #fanfiction

[gremlinenthusiast]

My D&D Party Nonsense

Amon Leonech: A Tiefling/Changeling Warlock of Nyarlathotep Amon embodies a true rags to riches story, going from a homeless urchin in a dirty trench coat, to a suave business tycoon and is the most unpredictable and dangerous being you should hope to never get involved with, because if you do he'll either scam you, put you in crippling debt, or just straight up kill you. Amon took many forms throughout the campaign and got up to a metric fuck ton of morally questionable shenanigans, throughout the campaign, he did the following. -Slaughtered thousands of goblins in a single day -Committed several acts of violent manslaughter -Used his adventuring spoils to purchase a large plot of land and made an apple orchard (He likes apples) -Made a contract with a spectator named Specky (Pictured above) to run his orchard for him so he could focus on adventuring -Got turned into a smoldering corpse and came back as a host for the lich lord Acererak (We fixed that problem like two weeks later)

(Smoldering corpse Amon pictured above) -Became one of the top ten richest people in the world from selling the wine he made with the apples from his massive orchard. (He REALLY likes apples) -Terraformed a time dilated pocket dimension (10 minutes outside of the pocket dimension is equivalent to 1 year inside) and left two baboons in it to "see what would happen", which lead to Amon having an entire hyper advanced isolated society sitting in his backpack, which he would check in on every few days.

Throughout his adventures, Amon also turned his Pact weapon (A Halberd called Brimstone) into one of the most powerful magic weapons in all the planes of existence. Brimstone was a sentient weapon too, but they had a much healthier relationship than Wulfram and Dra'ak. Amon also became a decent parent/caretaker through trial and error. Over the span of the campaign, Amon collected various pets and had several children through unorthodox means.

-Amon and another party member adopted a little orphan girl they had saved early on in the campaign, but she was very neglected after the other party member's tragic death. -Amon found a little talking monkey skeleton made out of Tarrasque sperm, which he neglected less than the orphan girl, but mainly because it served a purpose in combat. -Amon got a disabled kraken baby, two unique dragon mounts and a sky bison, all of which were left in various places and completely forgotten about. -Amon also ate the eyes of two separate beholders and birthed these beholders in new humanoid bodies, one was evil and tried to kill him, the other was chill and now has a wife and travels with a different party while taking care of the anti-christ

Without a doubt, Amon's most successful and undeniably favorite of his children / pets was the baby platypus he purchased at a Petsmart he visited while the part was stuck 4,000 years in the past. This platypus was one of the last of it's kind and in the time it was with Amon, it was given a magic crown that made it immortal and granted it psionic powers and heightened intelligence. Amon also went to the prison planet of Minethys when he died for the third time. Minethys is the afterlife for People consumed by greed and a lust for power, and Amon was somehow able to outmatch the greed of all the other denizens of this afterlife and become the defacto-ruler of the planet after killing all the previous ones in a 1,000 year war of attrition. After the rest of the party retrieved him from his afterlife turned capitalist paradise, he became a god with the help of a ritual performed by his Platypus son who had spent the last 4,000 years gathering followers for his father to prepare for this ritual.

He later lost his godhood, becoming mortal again, but still ridiculously powerful. After the final climactic battle of the campaign, Amon focused all his efforts into taking his orchard (which was now the size of a small country) and suspending it in the sky, in order to separate it from the rest of the world's squabbles. making it a peaceful sovereign nation for him and his denizens who still worshipped him like a god, even though he no longer was, mechanically speaking at least.

#digital art #animation #dungeons and dragons #original character

[twistedtummies2]

Meeting Aaron Dismuke & John Barrowman (ComicCon)

Okay, SO! I just got home from ComicCon. First of all, yes. I did, in fact, get a chance to meet Aaron Dismuke - Tamaki, Lucifer, Professor Moriarty, and more. First of all, MY GOD THE MAN IS TALL. O_O Second of all, he was absolutely darling. Even before I got to him, I learned how nice he was: two young ladies wanted a picture and autograph, but the card reader at his booth was malfunctioning. He told them, very sincerely, that if he couldn’t get the card reader working in a short time, he’d let them have their signatures and pics for free. (That did not happen; they got the device working again...oooonly for it to malfunction once more immediately after. Go figure. :P ) In fact, multiple times during my encounter with him, he pointed out that he felt the prices for the convention were MUCH too high.  Once I did meet him...it only got so much better. I asked him what his favorite part of playing William in MTP was...and he got so excited he SLAMMED the book I’d brought for him to sign shut before going into this spiel about everything he loved about the show. I may be paraphrasing slightly, but I think it went like this... “So, when I was a teenager, I actually had this fantasy - I used it for a school paper - about how, if someone were to kill the ten richest people in the world, and then keep doing that every month...what would happen? How would the world be better or worse? Would this eventually lead to a better place? William’s ‘Eat the Rich’ Philosophy isn’t EXACTLY the same, but it tapped into that old fantasy, and so it was actually more personal for me. Plus, I really love his attitude: anger is actually an emotion I don’t find easy in my repertoire - I don’t really get angry much in real life, I don’t think - and it was interesting to play a character who, no matter what happened, NEVER gets angry. Or, you know, never EXHIBITS how angry he is. He keeps everything level. Plus, it’s a classic character from some classic stories, so that was just cool!” After all this, he signed my book (”Catch Me If You Can, Mr. Holmes.” - A. Dismuke, Moriarty) and then I decided to be a bit more daring. I asked him if it would be allowed for me to take a video recording of him saying that same famous line. He responded that it was allowed, but he would have to charge me for it. “How much?” “I don’t know, the price is probably dumb...tell you what. For you? Thirty dollars.” I SLAPPED THOSE BILLS DOWN, BOI. He then asked for me to put my phone in selfie mode, and proceeded to record not only him saying the lines, but an almost two-minute spiel of him talking about the dialect and how he actually had to change his pronunciation of “Holmes” slightly during the show, because apparently someone joked that the way he said that name “sounded like a Minecraft character.” I sure as heck wasn’t gonna stop him.  THEN, we took the picture...and in the past, people I’ve taken photos with at the Con usually just sort of smile for the camera. There’s nothing wrong with that, naturally, I wouldn’t ask for otherwise. But he actually wanted to do something special, so he came up with us posing with him reading the manga, while myself - in costume and character as Holmes - peered at the book through my magnifying glass. He and the person taking the photo cracked up and we had to take the picture a second time because it came out all blurry the first time. XD TO TOP ALL THAT OFF...later, I passed by his booth, and he was still there. I called out to him: “Professor! We meet again!” He bowed. BOWED, I SAY! Naturally, I am elated by all of that. (Also, I still have more to share, but I’m putting a Keep Reading at this point because I think meeting Dismuke is the part you all want to know most about, and this is clearly going to be a long post. LOL)

SO...Aaron Dismuke wasn’t the only person I met today. I also got to meet John Barrowman - Jack Harkness from Doctor Who & Torchwood, Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, Merlyn from Arrow, etc. For him, I brought along a DVD collection of all the episodes for the 9th and 10th Doctors - those were the seasons Jack appeared in.  This encounter was much shorter, but it was still no less enjoyable. He was also amazing; he talked to everyone in line as if they were people he’d met before, and was well-acquainted with, no matter who they were, what they were dressed as, etc. When I got up to him and asked for his signature, I also asked him, “what’s a role you’ve always wanted to play that you haven’t yet?” He paused then responded: “To be honest, I don’t think about that. See, if it’s a role I’ve always wanted to play, then that would mean it’s a role that already exists, and that somebody else has already done before. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but what I REALLY love most is playing a character who is completely new, and being able to bring my own originality into the part.” An interesting philosophy I found both noble and unique. Then came the pictures...and yes, pictures, because he took four of them. We took one of us just smiling for the camera, then another of the same (”just to be safe”), then a “sassy” picture (I looked more...weird than sassy, ha ha), and finally a “silly and ugly” picture. All around awesome. <3 Beyond those meetings, lots of fun was otherwise had. Bought a lot of cool goodies from the shops (nothing anime-related, so not sure how much of it you guys would be interested in; might share more info there with friends in private), and I took a lot of photos of some really cool costumes. A lot of people really liked my Sherlock Holmes cosplay, I was surprised and happy to find! One encounter I MUST share before I close this message out: right after meeting both Dismuke and Barrowman, I ran into a cosplayer...of William!  “Professor!” I called out. “What are the odds?” I think they were even more happy to see Holmes than I was to see Moriarty! They were with a couple of non-costumed friends, who commented that they hadn’t expected to meet any other Moriarty fans there...and then asked to confirm if I was one. I responded by pulling out my copy of the manga from my bag. This only got them more excited, and they remarked, “You must be so ready to meet Aaron Dismuke!” I grinned and revealed I’d already gotten the autograph. I’m pretty sure the squeal they let out might have broken the sound barrier.  We took a photo with each other, each holding our copy of the manga’s first volume. Of all the people I took photos with/of that day - from comic book characters, to My Hero Academia cosplays, to the Addams Family, to Alice in Wonderland characters, to Scooby-Doo, to the 11th Doctor, AND STILL MANY MORE...that was by far the most joyous. “I mark this day with a white stone.”

#random life stuff #aaron dismuke #john barrowman #doctor who #moriarty the patriot #sherlock holmes #captain jack harkness #william james moriarty #professor moriarty #comiccon #cosplay

[kp777]

The Republican War On Teachers

There’s a war being waged on America’s teachers,  and we must stand up for them before it’s too late.

Teachers watch over America’s most precious asset — our children.

They dedicate their lives to caring for our youth, serving as role models, and making sure that future generations are set up for success.

So why on Earth are we treating them so badly?

Our nation’s teachers are not only working long, demanding hours inside and outside of the classroom — but they’re blamed these days for almost everything imaginable.

They are yelled at by parents over masks, reprimanded by school boards about books they assign or let their students read, vilified by politicians for teaching honest lessons about America’s history of racism and genocide, even told to arm themselves against the possibility that their classrooms might be invaded by murderous young men with semi-automatics.

Teachers are also making less money than they were ten years ago. Their average salary today is around $66,000, but when adjusted for inflation, that’s a $2,000 pay cut compared to 2012. As recently as 2018, nearly 600,000 public school teachers had to work a second job.

We’re also saddling our nation’s educators with huge debt. Nearly half of teachers, 45%, have taken out student loans to pay for the advanced degrees often required of them — with an average debt load of $55,800.

On top of all this, 94% of teachers have had to dip into their own pockets to buy school supplies. This, in the richest country in the history of the world! And at a time when the average Wall Street employee bonus for 2021 hit a record high of $257,500. It would take the typical teacher almost four years to make that much — and that’s just a bonus for Wall Street traders — a massive golden cherry on top of their ever-sweeter salaries.  

I’m guessing Wall Street firms don’t make traders pay for their own pencils.

Are Wall Street bankers really worth so much more than the people we ask to care for and teach our children? P-l-e-a-s-e.

Yet none of this has stopped Republicans from accelerating their war on teachers, and turning educators into political pawns in their battle to advance a radical agenda.

Since January 2021, 35 states have introduced 137 bills limiting what educators are allowed to talk with their students about – with regard to race, American history, politics, sexual orientation and gender identity.

Governors Greg Abbott of Texas and Ron DeSantis of Florida are poster boys for this campaign, even supporting legislation that intrudes on a teacher’s ability to craft lesson plans.

Republicans are quick to lob the terms “critical race theory” or “wokeism” against any curriculum that allows our youth to express their identities, advances critical thinking skills, and is honest about our nation’s tragic racial history — calling it “indoctrination” or “brainwashing.”

Why?

Because the biggest threat facing the Republican Party is a new multi-racial generation of young people unafraid to speak truth to power.

Ultimately, if we don’t learn from our history — which often means learning from our mistakes — there’s no way we can tackle our nation’s most pressing problems while building a better, more inclusive future. The foundation for this future begins in the classroom.

So how can we fight back against this war on America’s teachers?

First, pay them twice as much as they’re earning. Bare minimum.

Second, fight for their freedom to teach. Many of the decisions that affect teachers’ day-to-day work — as well as the lives of students — are made at local school board meetings. So, go to one. Better yet, run for a position on your local school board.

Third, listen to our teachers. Do you know what’s been lost in the cultural and political war against education in this country? The voices of ACTUAL teachers. If we’re going to truly support them and repair the harm done to our education system, they need to be heard.

Defend our teachers. Pay our teachers. Value our teachers. The work they do determines our future.

#teaching #teachers #education #student debt #Youtube #book ban #critical thinking

[rares-posts]

3 Days to go till MM so here's highlights from the interviews:

🌖P’Tor is so happy to act with Gun, sometimes even want to tease him, play with him. But P’Tor said Gun is very kind and everyone said he is so cute so can't tease (aww) (clip)

🌖P'Parn helps him out, N'Ploy takes pics and is cute, Tor likes to tease and ask things Gun doesn't know about the script. He asks him about it but Gun can't really answer (clip)

🌖Tor lost 10-12 kg to balance Gun’s stature. He said Gun's really small.(gtrans, Clip)

🌖Gun plays as Dome, a barista that lost his job, and was invited by Khatha(Tor) to work at the midnight museum

🌖Gun explains that there was a scene which was difficult for Gun to film because it's not like him in real life so he wasn't confident.

Tor: but when you were acting, you were so confident!

Gun: because it's in script! So have to be confident!! (partial source) (Clip)

🌖Gun: N'Ploy encouraged me, "P'Gun you can do it! Susu!"(rough trans of 0:53 of this clip🙏)

🌖Tor: Gun we can gather ten people to come to the party. Invite both people in front of the camera behind the camera. Invite people who are not involved at all hahahaha (gtrans, clip)

🌖When filming, someone said I don't want to do stressful scene, just want to act light one, so began roleplaying as rich people. Started by Gun and Namtan, they even googled Top 10 richest people in the world. (Clip)

When midnight museum airs on March 6, more photos taken by Ploy will be released 💕(clip)

🌖P’Saiparn mentioned Gun is a talented artist. When they acted together the dialogue were so long and different from how we talk in daily life. Gun can focus immediately to make everything smooth when filming. He is fun & cute outside the scene, but also focus & perfect in the scene. (clip)

🌖Tor: Gun is someone who I'm amazed at his acting, is the person who hasn't met in Thai for a long time. If not calling it talent... maybe I can't use other words, it's a talent that has been accumulated from experience since Gomin. (1) Gun didn't have to read the script that much. Just like read (once fast) and can be remembered. Yes, really talented. I liked it since workshop. (2)(....) I would be like Gun how can you do that? When he read the long dialogue, wait im almost, aww you done? i still in the halfway!(3) (Clip)

🌖Gun: please support midnight museum series. It's another series that I worked very hard on and i believe everyone did their very best. I'd like everyone to stay tuned because if you watched the trailer, it's only a few percent (of the plot) because the story is very confusing and mysterious. you can't find the way out. (Clip)

Cute clips:- gun 1, 2 | ploy fangirling over gun's cuteness: 1, 2

{♡Some translations are same as they were from the hyperlinked source tweet but some are slightly altered to be more understandable while preserving the meaning of the hyperlinked translation out of personal discretion, few are combinations of gtranslations and fantranslations. Any mistakes found are unintentional and regretted. Will be more than happy to correct in case of discrepancies.♡}

Part 2

#midnight museum #midnight museum press tour #gun atthaphan #gun atp #tor thanapob #ploy phatchatorn #ploy phat #saiparn apinya #namtan tipnaree #guntor #Rare's Atp Archive #midnight museum series #midnight museum promo #midnight museum the series #gmmtv 2023 #thai drama #asain fantasy show #mystery show #offgun

[pcttrailsidereader]

Top Ten PCT Books

There is an overwhelming abundance of books in the pantheon of PCT literature. I have read many over the past 40+ years (often in the process of developing the three anthologies . . . see #2). I have given some thought recently to my Top Ten PCT books. It is a rather arbitrary list certainly influenced by my own preferences and the reality that many of the early voices were male. I am confident that I have missed some worthy choices and would invite readers to submit their favorites.

RH

The Pacific Crest Trail: Exploring America's Wilderness Trail by Mark Larabee and Barney Mann

My rationale for putting this beautiful coffeetable book at the top of my list is that it captures the spectacle of the PCT in photos, includes essays about the history and culture of the trail, and rounds things out with profiles of the people of the trail. I never tire of flipping through and relishing the photos. There are other excellent books of photos from the PCT, but this is a comprehensive resource under one cover.

2. The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: California; The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: Oregon and Washington (Edited by Rees Hughes and Corey Lewis) and Crossing Paths: A Pacific Crest Trailside Reader (Edited by Rees Hughes and Howard Shapiro)

While I admit to a certain bias, the 150 short stories captured in this trilogy reflects the full range of PCT people and experiences in, for the most part, their own words. It really is a 'must read' for those interested in a full appreciation of the PCT. It also draws from many of the individual accounts of walking the trail that would otherwise dominate your bookshelves.

3. The Great Alone by Tim Voors

Of all of the many accounts of walking the PCT, why did I elevate this particular account? I have read countless memoirs written by PCT hikers. They are all deeply personal accounts of hiking the same 2,650 miles, generally with a few variations here and there.  Most are enjoyable, a few are tedious or self-important, but virtually all suffer from following a similar formula.  Any of you who have read even a handful know the formula – preparing for the trail, physically and mentally adjusting to trail life through the desert and the High Sierra, marveling at trail culture, persevering through the monotonous Northern California and Oregon stretch, and the race to the end through the wet and often white spectacular North Cascades.  It is delightful to find a memoir that carves its own unique path.  Tim Voors in The Great Alone has done just that.

Throughout his time on the trail, Voors spends some serious time devoted to reflection that he gracefully weaves into the story of his walk north.  He manages to share his introspection in a way that never seems tedious and rarely seems forced.  What if I die tomorrow?  Quitting.  Restructuring your life around your dreams.  Do I believe in God?  Much of what he learns comes from the wisdom of hikers a generation younger than him. I believe his honesty and candor makes his reflections engaging as does his self-deprecating humor.  It may help that Voors shares my own belief that walking the PCT is richest when it includes a spiritual experience where hikers think about themselves and the world around them and their role in the world.

Voors, who is Dutch, demonstrates his command of English throughout the book.  In addition, his simple watercolor paintings (he is aptly known as ‘Van Go’ on the trail) and the photos he has included enrich the total experience of reading the book.  I would rarely comment on the choice of paper used in printing the book, but I really liked the thick, textured paper (which seems to be a trademark of the publisher, Gestalten).  The graphics throughout the book are exceptional and add measurably to the quality of the reading experience.

4. Wanderlust: A History of Walking by Rebecca Solnit or On Trails: An Exploration by Robert Moor

Pick one of these two books. Although Moor talks about the PCT in On Trails, both Solnit and Moor offer the best homage to 'walking' among the many philosophical treatments available. They are the books I wish I had written about pedestrianism.

5. The High Adventure of Eric Ryback by Eric Ryback

Ryback's account of his 1970 hike from Canada to Mexico on a trail that was often just a concept elevated the profile of the PCT. Read by dreamers like me (and thousands of others), Ryback's book was my first exposure to the PCT and the impetus for me to walk the PCT. It captured the spirit of adventure that has drawn hikers to the trail in the decades since.

6. A T'hru-Hikers Heart: Tales on the Pacific Crest Trail by Ray "No Way" Echols

Ray Echols collection of essays, compiled following Ray's tragic death along Deep Creek by his widow, Alice Tulloch, is also not your typical PCT account. I have kept this book in my collection because I find the depth of Ray's experiences, the strength of his feeling, the wisdom of his writing so exceptional. In it all, he manages to capture why I return to the trail year after year.

7. Seven Summers (and a few bummers) by Bob Welch

As I mentioned before, I am disinclined to include accounts of walking the Pacific Crest Trail that begin in the desert south and proceed linearly and predictably. However, I found Bob Welch’s account of completing the PCT with his brother-in-law, Glenn, refreshingly bumpy (and very real).  Written with self-deprecating humor, Seven Summers seems part Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods, part Barney Mann’s Journeys North, but all uniquely the Oregon Boys (Bob and Glenn’s trail name).  The Oregon Boys dealt with hypothermia, fire, quitting (and starting again), the realities of work and family, snow, injury, and more, but in the course of 11 years they finished the PCT.

The book captures the special challenge of being a section hiker. As Welch observes near the end of the book, section hiking necessitated thirty-two travel days,“ just getting to and from that trail, that encompassed more than 17,000 miles, just so I could hike 2,650 miles.” He continued, “Some 180 miles of extraneous hiking miles [were] needed to get to and from trail heads; to follow “workarounds” because of fire closures; to get off-trail water and food; and to return to points that we overshot”.

Welch, a lifelong journalist and author of a number of other books, makes the book an enjoyable read. By the end of the book you feel a special connection with Bob and Glenn and their spouses. Seven Summers touches on the changing nature of the PCT, profiles a number of hikers on the trail, captures the essence of trail culture, and the PCT experience. In addition, it is a pleasure to read a well-crafted book. And only a few times did I tire of Welch’s humor.

I appreciated the inclusion of photos, maps, special charts (“Breakdown of the 17 Section Hikes”, how he put everything in his pack, his equipment list, a best and worst list, the PCT experience by the numbers, etc.), and some delightful illustrations by Don White.

8. The Pacific Crest Trail: A Visual Compendium by Joshua M. Powell

This is another unique and very entertaining treatment of the PCT. I loved his collection of lists and notes of every possible (and some I never would have thought of) aspect of a thru-hike on the PCT. Powell shows us the various flora and fauna he discovered along the trail. Everything from pileated woodpecker to lupine. Paintbrush to rattlesnake and many, many more. He goes on to create illustrations of notable buildings found in trail towns and illustrates an alphabet from scripts seen along the trail. He describes his mental struggles, landmarks, weather, and specific trail notes. There are numerous easy to read charts and graphs and stunning graphics.  Everything from elevations of various sections to traits shared by thru-hikers and characters in Steinbeck novels.

9.Journeys North by Barney 'Scout' Mann

Scout's treatment of his PCT thru-hike experience is the most traditional of those included in my top 10 list. He has the advantage of a long and rich association with the trail . . . as a hiker (along with his wife Sandy . . . aka 'Frodo'), as a long-time devoted trail angel, as a PCT board member, as an advocate for the PCT and for the national trail system. That history gives his account additional 'heft' often missing in other accounts.

10. Thru-Hiking Will Break Your Heart by Carrot Quinn

Carrot Quinn authored one of my favorite PCT blogs/journals; one I followed religiously on her trek north. Cleverly written and insightful, I think I appreciated it even more because Carrot's take on the experience was so different from my own. Written with humor and, at times, a biting insight, I think that Carrot's writing helped me take my own PCT experience a little less nobly and self-importantly.

Other Contenders: I really like Suzanne Roberts's Almost Somewhere: 28 Days on the John Muir Trail, but did not include it because it is limited to the JMT. Roberts is a wonderful writer. I also enjoyed Gail D. Storey's I Promise Not to Suffer: A Fool for Love Hikes the Pacific Crest Trail. It is clever and fun but did not make the cut because, like Cheryl Strayed, Gail walked less than half of the PCT. I also tend to discount books written about fast-walking the trail because, while I admire the tenacity and strength for such an achievement, I am biased against those that don't savor the PCT experience.

#Carrot Quinn #Suzanne Roberts #Gail D. Storey #Barney Mann #Mark Larabee #Tim Voors #Rebecca Solnit #Robert Moor #Bob Welch #Rees Hughes #Eric Ryback #Howard Shapiro #Corey Lewis #Joshua Powell #Ray Echols

[gnarlynaruto]

Contemporary Topics

I chose the topic “Botanicals of Mexico”. I decided on this topic because I think the botanicals of the world are very important to our survival and the way plants contribute to humans. Mexico is home to a high biodiversity of fauna, including one of the richest floras in the world where many flowering plants are used as medicine, cleansing and in religious spaces. Studies have revealed records of domesticated plants Mesoamerica first provided to our world include maize, beans, squashes, chili peppers, amaranth, chia, cocoa, cotton, and others. Our deep inherent human relationship with and understanding of plants has allowed us to harness their nutritional, medicinal, and aesthetic benefits.  

In each of these ten works of art, there is something entirely botanical while they are connected by their importance to Mexican society. From the small details of cupboards filled with the assorted fruits and vegetables to large colorful floral pieces that demand your attention.

I arrived at this concept because every day I am inspired by the plants in our lives and the underrated enrichment they bring to the rest of the living world. I was also inspired by the way the people of Mexico use edible flowers in their dishes to create new flavors and as decoration to top off plates so beautifully.  Every so often I forget about the big silent power plants have over us but then I step outside into my garden, sip a cup of coffee, or pick fresh flowers, and I am reminded of their origins as well as the deep connection we have with the earth.

[mariacallous]

Twitter has been taken over by its least interesting troll for $44bn. When Elon Musk took a stake in the platform, he claimed it was to ensure the “future of civilisation” and preserve a “common digital town square”. Roughly translated, that means the world’s richest man has bought his favourite megaphone.

Musk, with 112.1 million followers, is an obsessive Twitter tryhard: the attention economy’s biggest attention-seeker. From baselessly calling a British diver a “pedo”, to his baffling stunt at Twitter HQ – turning up with a kitchen sink and uttering the punchline, “let that sink in” – he clearly thinks comedy is his metier. He reminds me of Christopher Hitchens’ barb about an enemy: he “thinks he’s a wit and is half right”.

Musk says that buying Twitter is “not a way to make money”. That’s certainly true. The company struggled for years to make a profit. It makes 90% of its current revenues from advertising to just 217 million “monetisable” users (and illegally using their private data to target ads at them). But this is just a fraction of monthly active users on sites like Facebook (2.8 billion), TikTok (1.2 billion), YouTube (2 billion) and Instagram (1.4 billion).

However, Twitter has been great publicity: not just for Musk’s zeppelin-sized ego, but also for his businesses. Tesla spends next to nothing on advertising, but Musk’s actions generate acres of free coverage.

Like Donald Trump, Musk has a grasp of the potential of Twitter. Its salience has never been due to business success, still less to technology. As editor Nilay Patel points out in an article on The Verge, its success is political. Twitter attracts a disproportionate share of addicted opinion-formers like journalists, politicians, writers and celebrities, the sort of people Musk wants thinking about him.

Yet, in buying his platform, Musk has also bought$13bn of debt. Twitter was previously repaying over $50m a year to its creditors. It will now, according to some analyses, have to find more than $1bn a year to merely pay back the interest. Even if Musk isn’t out to make a profit, he can’t ignore such losses. Stemming the haemorrhage will now be a top priority for him, either by charging users a subscription fee for verified accounts or, more likely since charges might drive away users, cuts.

The notoriously capricious boss had already indicated that before backtracking, he would sack 75% of the workforce to help balance Twitter’s books. But now, having already sacked four of Twitter’s top executives – he allegedly claims to have done so “for cause”, apparently in a bid to avoid tens of millions of dollars in compensation – he is also looking for job cuts across Twitter.

Among the easy cuts for Musk would be staff who enforce measures to restrict disinformation, spamming and abuse. Only illegal speech should be restricted, he says. This position – allegedly that of a “free speech absolutist” – would mean that Twitter, already a frequent alibi of repressive governments, would march in step with those regimes. More free speech for trolls and racists, less free speech for dissidents. But it’s a throwback to the years during which Twitter claimed that the best response to “bad speech” was more speech (meaning, more content to monetise).

For all the talk of a “common digital town square”, Twitter has always thrived on angry disputation driven by news and entertainment. This puts the company in a bind. On the one hand, the relentless nastiness is what makes the system so compulsive: the gut-punch of an insulting, racist or stupid tweet in your feed incites the cathartic banging out of quick, angry replies. Likewise, it has thrived on the emotional contagions that drive the viral spread of far-right disinformation, from Islamic State to QAnon. Without them, Twitter would be more boring than it is. And the advertisers would have a less captive audience.

On the other hand, it has repeatedly lost high-profile users over trolling and disinformation. It has been forced, over the years, to ramp up its moderation efforts and ban high-profile users like Trump who, in 2017, was estimated to bring in $2bn a year for Twitter. Despite such gestures, it has been losing its most active and profitable users, who are losing interest – no doubt in part due to sheer exhaustion – in Twitter beefs over politics and celebrities.

Musk may think he can relight the old fires, but Twitter is not alone in struggling. Facebook user growth in Europe and North America flatlined years ago. Instagram growth is slowing. Average time spent on platforms, after soaring in 2020 due to Covid-19 lockdowns, is likely to slide. All social media platforms, indeed most tech firms, are facing tough times as advertisers slash budgets. Facebook boss Mark Zuckerberg has been searching for the next profit model for years: witness his failed cryptocurrency enterprise and his struggling “metaverse” project causing the parent company, Meta, to plummet in stock markets.

The social industry may be approaching a moment of crisis wherein growth, revenue and long-brewing problems of political legitimacy coalesce in favour of a rupture. The industry has already fragmented on the right, as far-right users alienated by the moderation policies of industry giants form their own social media ecologies. But many others have long hankered for an alternative to the exploitative, manipulative and addictive systems designed for the enrichment of billionaires like Zuckerberg, Musk and TikTok boss Zhang Yiming.

The difficulty has not been the absence of open-source alternatives, like Mastodon. Indeed, some Twitter users responded to Musk’s takeover by trying to trigger an exodus to Mastodon. The problem is the “network effect”. The old platforms offer users advantages precisely because of the number of users they have. To make a dent in that would require a migration numbering in more than just thousands.

But we should keep our eyes open. It is just possible that – Musk being Musk – he will do something stupid and offensive enough to catalyse the crisis that at last loosens the grip of the billionaire monopolists.

[dominoblues]

Can't believe i've started writing long fics again 😭😭 I feel so happy. I'm going to make it a goal to write everyday. Today i wrote 600+ words and i am really proud of it. I feel like sharing it with you. From the beginning of chapter 1.

---

The doors of the train opened with a padded shriek as the synthetic voice echoed across the station. Downtown Berkeley. Mokuba walked on the dim-lit platform, earbuds tucked in, music blasting in his ears. He swiftly looked around to get his bearings before making for the closest flight of stairs, mingling with the small group of commuters. None of them staring at him in awe or disappointment. None of them caring of his name, of who he was. To all the glances disinterestedly looking at him, while he quickly climbed the stairs to the concourse, he was just a boy on his first day of college. Black knee-ripped jeans and sneakers, light purple hoodie opened on a white shirt, a light grey slouchy beanie and his mustard-colored backpack for a nice addition. Yeah. Just a normal college student.

Not that he himself cared at all. He had gotten quite skilled at blending in whenever he wanted to avoid the undesired attention. Felt like he had spent the past five years trying to appear normal. Or, at least, make everyone around him think he was. It was not about the money or the fame or the labels. Nahe once called him an attention whore and she was right. He loved every bit of it. Whenever he could flaunt his wealth, looks and skills, he would do it without even questioning it first. Right now, he was the richest person in that subway station. Hell, he was the richest person in the world. It was never about any of that. Normal people, common people would not understand. The sultry, oppressive grip looming on his conscience. Do not let them see it, the thing that sleeps inside and tortures your soul when it wakes up. Good boy, Mokuba.

Eyes felt heavy behind the dark spectacles and he could notice a hint of a headache spitefully surfacing. He wished he had slept more. A week alone in the apartment and nightmares of the past had already started to get the grasp on him. Turning around in bed until he would fall asleep seemed the habit now. Unhealthy. His throat tightened.

He walked through the ticket gates at the same moment the left pocket of his hoodie vibrated for a second. He picked his phone up, looked at the screen. A message. His heart skipped a beat.

Wednesday 9: 43 AM

SETO: hope you have a great day

Mokuba stood in the middle of the lobby. Someone behind him shouted an insult while passing by. Girls Go Wild by LP was still playing through his earbuds, but he was not paying attention. He could not hide the surprise and the big smile forcefully appearing on his face.

MOKUBA: isn’t it a bit late over there?

SETO: going to bed now. just wanted to wish you good luck on your first day

MOKUBA: thanks. i’ll call you later

A pause. Ten seconds. Twenty. Still looking at the screen. Three dots appeared.

SETO: love you

MOKUBA: love you too. sleep well

[SETO liked this message]

The warm feeling took over. Oh. He would have never admitted it. How he was not expecting to hear from him that morning, and yet he was hoping it with all himself. He had learned the hard way not to expect anything from him. The excuse was that so, at least, he would be surprised. And for the past five years, his brother had really been surprising him. Struggling, but adjusting.

Still grinning – like a dork, Nahe would have said – Mokuba put away his phone, straightened his backpack on his shoulder and resumed walking to the exit. He ignored the mobile staircase and, favoring a bit of exercise instead, he climbed the steps towards the light at the top. An ascent to paradise.

When he emerged on the street, it was no paradise at all.

--- 

(WIP)

#domino blues #mokuba kaiba #seto kaiba #domino notebook #adult!mokuba