#Workflow Win

[mentorshelly]

Unleashing Efficiency: The 4 Indispensable Benefits of SOPs in Business

Navigating the complexities of business can be daunting, but with well-crafted Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), your enterprise can move with precision and confidence. Let’s delve into four transformative benefits of SOPs: 1. Unmatched Consistency: SOPs are the secret ingredient to uniform excellence. They ensure every product and service meets your high standards, reflecting the reliability…

[frostfishy]

more exocolonist stuff

[strictlytinyjourney]

From Queries to Clicks — Actionable SEO Moves

Series: Leveraging Google Search Console Queries for SEO Tagline: You’ve got the data — now here’s what to do with it.

If you’ve pulled your query report from Google Search Console — congrats! 🎉 Now it’s time to take action.

Here are high-impact SEO moves based on your GSC query data:

🛠 Optimize Existing Pages

Add keywords from high-performing queries into titles, H1s, and body content.

Refresh meta descriptions to increase CTR.

Add internal links using target anchor text.

🧩 Create New Pages

See a query with high impressions but no clicks? 👉 Make a new post that answers it better than your competitors.

Look for keyword gaps: topics your audience is searching that you haven’t covered yet.

✨ Target SERP Features

Want that Featured Snippet or People Also Ask spot?

Use structured H2/H3 headers + concise answers.

Add schema markup for reviews, products, and more.

Create FAQ-style sections for relevant questions.

📈 Track & Repeat

Monitor changes in CTR and ranking over time.

Identify “quick win” keywords that move with minor tweaks.

Rinse, refine, repeat every month.

Use GSC as your living SEO dashboard. The data’s free — the impact is powerful. Start optimizing today, and watch your rankings rise.

For More information, Visit

[technologyequality]

Boost Customer Loyalty with AI: Smarter Retention Strategies That Work

Boost Customer Loyalty with AI Smarter Retention Strategies That Work If you’ve followed this series, you know that AI has already changed how we attract leads, price our services, and close sales. But here’s a hard truth: If you’re only focused on getting new customers, you’re leaving money on the table. Acquiring new clients is great, but keeping them? That’s where the real profit is. Think…

[reasonsforhope]

"A group of 200 UK businesses and charities have signed a pledge that company work weeks will be shortened to 4 days without a loss in pay

Including marketing and advertisement; tech, it, and software; and charity groups as well, the companies employ more than 5,000 people.

Organized by the 4 Day Week Foundation, it follows something less than a trend but more than a fad in which a mixture of employees and executives believe that a happier, more balanced workforce is key to driving productivity.

That balance, they would argue, can be achieved by far more people through the reduction of the 5-day work week to a 4-day one.

“[With] 50% more free time, a four-day week gives people the freedom to live happier, more fulfilling lives,” Joe Royle, the foundation’s campaign director, told the Guardian.

“As hundreds of British companies and one local council have already shown, a four-day week with no loss of pay can be a win-win for both workers and employers.”

This sentiment isn’t shared by all workplaces, but market competition should demonstrate over time whether or not firms that implement unorthodox work hours are in fact as productive or more so than traditional ones.

Economics says that with all else being equal, if enjoying more free time leads to greater employee retention and motivation, then these 4-day work week firms will begin to out-complete the old ones, which in turn will be forced to adapt or risk losing market share.

London firms have been the most enthusiastic, with 59% of the 200 workplaces being located in the capital. With so many firms for talented workers to choose from, it’s no wonder that some are looking to seek advantage in attracting this talent through more desirable working terms.

Last year, GNN reported extensively on a report that was released by a county government in Washington called San Juan, detailing their one-year experiment with a 32-hour, or 4-day work week. In the report, quitting and retiring decreased by 48%, while 55% of employees said their workflow wasn’t interrupted even though they lost an entire working day’s worth of time to complete it.

Even in the famously hard-working nation of Japan, a 4-day workweek seems to strengthen productivity."

-via Good News Network, January 28, 2025

[celuere]

Brainrotting about office sex with arle again hmfkabfowbe…

imagine sitting on her lap as she flies over the reports of last week, seemingly unmoved as you warm her cock like you’ve been made for it. You came into her office looking too cute with that flimsy evening gown of yours, just how could she have you leave again without giving you a good load of her?

First you warm her lap, squirming around between her arms as you feel her stretching your walls open but don’t move too much or else you‘ll earn yourself a harsh slap right onto your sensitive clit and we don’t want that, right? You‘re just there to look pretty after all, for now. And then she can’t help herself before she pushes you off, telling you with a stern tone to get underneath her desk. You dont need to ask for what when you were met with her dripping cockhead before your eyes. The skin still slick from your cunt warming her and the pearly proof of her arousal only further added to the painful emptiness between your legs. But you took her in. Good girls get rewarded after all, do they not?

With one hand now continuing to sign the documents before her and the other one guiding your head up and down over her cock, to the occasional subordinate striding into her office for either reports or questions- nobody guessed that the your throat was currently full with their superior‘s dick underneath her desk.

This is how you properly contribute to a positive workflow. Suck her off for all she‘s worth and then let her bend you over that desk of hers. To hell with all those papers she‘s pressing you into, nothing is as important as pumping you full of her. But fucking you stupid on her desk usually always leads to suspicious looking scratch marks which run through the polished wood. Some are so deeply carved into the wood that some would surely point out an animal as the culprit.

They can’t know that the Knave looses every ounce of dignity and self-control once her wife‘s warm, perfectly tight pussy engulfs her dick completely. It‘s like offering a recovering alcoholic and glass of wine.

Or maybe she‘ll take you on the sofa in the nearby corner. Normally she uses it to maybe get a little powernap in here and there or if she needs to lay down for a moment when her curse flares back up again.

Or when she wants to watch her wife‘s juices spill over the expensive leather.

But in lazy situations her chair will do. Letting you bounce yourself on her dick as if you were trying to win an award for teyvat‘s most desperate woman. Her hands mostly just resting on your hips as her thumbs rub soothing circles over your skin.

[nuelles]

Taken, Thanks || Spencer Agnew

Summary: Being Ian Hecox’s assistant means wrangling calendars, dodging glitter explosions, and putting out fires—metaphorical and otherwise. But when a smarmy investor starts flirting a little too hard, Spencer finds himself stepping in with soft, possessive boyfriend energy. Add some cast-wide chaos and Ian’s deadpan justice? You’re in for a hell of a Tuesday. (Yes, Spencer still wins. No, Bradley never stood a chance.)

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x f!reader

Tropes: Protective boyfriend, Jealous but respectful, Chaos Cast Support

Warnings: Mild workplace harassment (non-physical flirting, inappropriate persistence by a male investor toward the reader), Swearing & sarcasm (light/moderate), Fluff, light comedy, mild secondhand embarrassment

WC: 2.6K

Author's Note: Not a lot of Spencer in this one lol, but I might make this a mini series, might not, we will see.

You were halfway through color-coding Ian’s week when the glass door opened, and your day instantly worsened.

He walked in like he’d been practicing it: smooth gait, tailored navy blazer, no visible socks. The kind of guy who wore a watch specifically to show off that he didn’t need a smartwatch to stay on top of things—he had people for that. And apparently, today? You were one of them.

“Hi there,” he said, flashing teeth so white they were probably copyrighted. “You must be the one who keeps the circus from catching fire.”

You didn’t even look up from your monitor. “That’s the goal.”

He leaned a forearm on your desk like this was a sales convention and not a functioning content studio. “I’m Bradley. Strategic investments. Ian said I should ‘shadow the workflow’ today, but I’m really just here to see the talent in action.”

You finally looked up. “You’ll want the bullpen, then. Back hallway, third left.”

“Oh, I’m in no rush,” he said smoothly, eyes sweeping your desk. “Besides… I think I already found the real star.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but needed to stay professional, so all you did was blink at him. “That line works on other assistants?”

He chuckled. “You’re funny. And quick. A deadly combo.”

“I prefer ‘highly scheduled and politely impatient.’”

He laughed again—too loud, too rehearsed. “What’s your name?”

You gave it. You couldn’t come up with a good and professional reason not to. And you regretted it instantly.

Mistake #1: Eye contact.

Mistake #2: Letting him know you had a name.

“Well, Y/N,” he said, drawing out the syllables like he’d invented them. “Have you ever considered scaling your role? With your skill set, I could see you running entire teams.”

“I’m already running one,” you said, tapping your tablet. “Smosh.”

“Touché,” he said, unbothered. “But if you’re ever looking for a more… refined environment—one with perks, bonuses, corner offices—I’d be happy to discuss it. Maybe over lunch?”

There it was. The smile. The lean. The casual, calculated suggestion. ugh

You didn’t flinch. “Thanks, but I’m happy where I am. Especially with my boyfriend dropping off coffee and cat memes every morning.”

Bradley raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” You smiled tightly. “Big fan of hoodies. Great jawline. Plays weird little games for a living.”

He tilted his head like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t like the answer to. “So… he’s talent?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re not worried about mixing business and pleasure?”

You tilted your head right back. “Not when the business respects me. And the pleasure has manners.”

A flicker passed across his face—too quick to call offense, too practiced to be real. But you saw it.

He gave a tight smile. “Point taken. But if you ever change your mind…”

You didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t plan to.”

You didn’t even have to say anything. By hour two, the entire cast and crew had clocked Bradley’s vibe—and they were not impressed.

Courtney popped her head into the hallway just as Bradley leaned over your desk for the third time that hour.

“Wow,” she said loudly, “do investor bros always hover, or is this a custom feature?”

Bradley straightened, flashing a smile. “Just taking an interest in the workflow. You all run a tight ship.”

Courtney looked at you. You gave her your best please don’t commit violence face.

She raised both hands and walked off muttering, “Tight ship, my ass.”

Next came Damien.

You were trying to update the equipment checklist on your tablet when he strolled by, wearing sunglasses indoors and carrying a prop flaming sword over his shoulder.

He paused.

Squinted at Bradley.

Turned to you and asked, “Is this guy bothering you?”

You didn’t look up. “I’m fine.” You were getting good at ignoring the man's—the boys'—presence.

He pointed the sword at Bradley and said, “Just say the word, and he gets a two-minute head start.”

Bradley blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

Damien grinned. “Oh, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Bradley scurried off—temporarily, at least.

You sighed and leaned your head against the wall.

A few minutes later, Shayne appeared at your desk, holding two LaCroix cans like peace offerings.

He handed one over. “So. Our new corporate overlord is gross.”

“I’m handling it,” you muttered, cracking the can open.

“I know,” Shayne said. “You’re doing great. But also—if you want me to spill something on him accidentally, I’m clumsy.”

You arched a brow. “Are you offering me… a staged workplace soda accident?”

“Two,” he said, holding up his other can. “One for the shoes, one for the watch.”

You laughed, finally—short and sharp. “Tempting.”

Shayne leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Spencer knows yet?”

“No. He’s filming. And I don’t want him to spiral into ‘protective golden retriever’ mode.”

“I give it twenty minutes,” Shayne said.

And he was off by about five.

Spencer wasn’t the most observant person in the building.

He got distracted easily—by snack tables, rogue sound guys, and whatever the hell Damien was doing with that fog machine last week. But when it came to you? He didn’t miss much.

So the moment he stepped into the bullpen that afternoon, iced coffee in one hand and hoodie sleeve pushed up the other, he spotted you.

Specifically, you, standing near the shoot schedule wall. And Bradley—standing way too close, with that fake laugh Spencer already hated and a shirt that looked like it cost more than Spencer’s entire closet.

Bradley was leaning in, saying something. You had your tablet held like a shield. Your face wore that polite, I’m tolerating this so I don’t get sued smile.

Spencer’s stomach dropped.

He crossed the room in five slow steps, weaving past Courtney and Arasha mid-conversation. Shayne caught his eye. Raised an eyebrow. Almost as if to say I’ve got your back, Spencer just nodded once and kept walking.

Calm. Easy. But close enough to let the guy know, you’re not alone.

“Hey, babe,” Spencer said, voice soft as he stepped behind you, one hand sliding instinctively to your lower back. “You good?”

You looked up, and your smile instantly turned real.

“Yeah. Just finalizing timing for the B-studio block.”

Spencer nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave Bradley.

The guy looked between you both, blinking.

“Sorry,” Bradley said slowly. “You two are…?”

“Dating,” you answered quickly, professional tone never slipping. “Have been for a while.”

Spencer added, with a perfectly polite smile, “Long enough to know she hates being called ‘assistant of the year.’”

Bradley’s grin stiffened. “Right. Well. Good for you two.”

“Thanks,” you said lightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a location conflict to fix.”

Bradley took a deliberate step back. “Of course.”

Spencer held your gaze as you turned, guiding you by the hand toward the side hallway.

The second you were out of earshot, you exhaled.

“Okay, that was subtle. Ish.”

Spencer squinted. “Did he really call you assistant of the year?” Asking about the text you had sent him during one of your breaks.

You nodded.

“And try to ask you to lunch?”

You nodded again.

Spencer blinked. “I’m going to pour LaCroix in his briefcase.”

You snorted. “Please don’t. Ian still needs to fire him gently.”

Spencer tilted his head. “...What if I just gently knock over a bottle near it?”

You bumped his shoulder. “Just be here. That’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, soft and slow and only for you. “Always.”

By late afternoon, things had reached peak tension. The vibe was dead. Not just off—dead.

Everyone was avoiding the common areas. Damien had “accidentally” moved his shoot to the other side of the building. Courtney had taken her laptop outside. You, stuck at your desk near Ian’s office, were once again being treated to Bradley’s thoughts on “audience expansion” and how “Smosh had potential—it just needed direction.”

You were moments away from faking an emergency fire drill when Ian’s door creaked open.

“Hey,” he called to you, voice deceptively casual. “Mind stepping in for a sec?”

Bradley, ever the opportunist, started to follow.

Ian held up a hand without looking. “Just her.”

The door shut behind you with a soft click.

Ian was standing by his desk, arms folded. His expression was unreadable—but you’d worked with him long enough to recognize that tight-jawed calm. It was the calm right before a storm. Or a corporate takedown.

“I’ve made a decision,” he said.

You raised a brow. “About Bradley?”

Ian’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Yeah. I’m done watching that guy flirt with you like he’s trying to win a prize on The Price Is Right.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed.

Ian smirked. “I’ve seen that look on your face. You’ve been walking on eggshells for four hours. Not because you can’t handle him, but because you’re too professional to make a scene.”

You shrugged. “Someone’s gotta be.”

“Well, good news,” Ian said, sitting on his chair and already opening his laptop. “I’m not.” He sent you on your way, and as you walked in, Bradley took that opportunity to send a wink at you as he walked into Ian’s office.

Bradley had spent the better part of thirty minutes trying to corner Ian in his office with phrases like “brand synergy” and “scalable verticals.” Ian, to his credit, hadn’t lit anything on fire. Yet.

From your desk outside the office, you heard it: the signature sigh. The one Ian only made when someone pitched NFTs or called him Mr. Smosh.

“Okay,” Ian said finally. “You know what? Let’s cut to the chase.”

Bradley’s voice stayed smooth. “Of course.”

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ian said flatly.

A beat of silence. Then Bradley: “Excuse me?”

Ian stood. “You’ve been here for about four hours, and in that time, you’ve hit on my assistant, interrupted four meetings, and suggested we replace our equipment with AI livestream puppets.”

“I was offering opportunities.”

“You were offering weird tech bros in suits energy,” Ian said. “And I’m not interested.”

“I thought we had alignment.”

“You misread the entire room,” Ian deadpanned. “I’ve seen what I need to see. Including how you treat my staff. Also—assistant of the year? That’s the line?” It had made its way around the office, great. 

You tried very hard not to laugh as you typed a fake email just to keep your hands busy.

Bradley sputtered. “You’ll regret this.”

Ian shrugged. “Doubt it. Thanks for your time. Security can show you out. They love investor walkouts—it’s like their Super Bowl.”

Bradley sputtered something under his breath, turned on his heel, and left with his shiny shoes echoing hard against the floor.

Ian leaned out of his office, looked at you, and said, “Sorry. I waited to see if Spencer would deck him first.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the restraint.”

Ian shrugged. “You’re good at what you do. I protect my team.”

Then, with his usual deadpan calm: “Also—he called you ‘boss babe.’ That was the final straw.”

By the time you stepped out into the golden haze of late afternoon, the building was mostly quiet.

Bradley was long gone—escorted by security with the dramatic flair of a deleted Try Not to Laugh bit. The tension you hadn’t realized had been coiled tight in your shoulders all day had finally started to melt away.

And there he was.

Leaning against your car, Spencer looked up as you approached, hoodie sleeves pushed up, the edges of his hair ruffled from the wind or maybe from fidgeting with his hands. He had that look on his face—quietly patient, a little worried, like he’d been waiting to see if you were okay before deciding how to feel.

You dropped your bag on the hood and just… let yourself lean into him.

He caught you without hesitation, arms wrapping tight around your waist, head tipping down to press his cheek against your hair.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” you mumbled back into his chest.

You stayed like that for a minute. Maybe more.

His hoodie smelled like cedar and laundry detergent. Warm and familiar and safe.

“So,” he said eventually, voice low. “Bradley’s gone?”

“Escorted out by security,” you confirmed, not moving. “Ian didn’t even blink.”

Spencer exhaled. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Ian said it was like the security team’s Super Bowl.”

Spencer chuckled softly. “Should’ve sold tickets.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Thanks for earlier. For showing up. For not... punching him.”

“I considered it,” he said. “Briefly.”

You smiled. “Yeah?”

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “But then I figured you’d prefer a boyfriend who doesn’t get banned from the office.”

“Correct,” you said. “That’s a bare minimum requirement.”

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. “I hated seeing you deal with that. You were trying to be polite. Professional. And he just… kept pushing.”

You nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“I know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have to work twice as hard just to be respected. Not here. Not anywhere.”

You blinked. His voice had gone tight at the end—not angry, but serious.

The kind of tone Spencer usually reserved for things like someone insulting your work ethic or questioning your seat at the table.

You stepped closer again, pressing your forehead to his chest. “I’m okay now.”

He held you tighter. “You shouldn’t have had to be ‘okay’ because you powered through.”

You tilted your head up again, suddenly overwhelmed. “You know I’d pick you, right? A hundred times over.”

He smiled. “I already did.”

“And you know I wasn’t even slightly tempted by his... whatever that was?”

“Tech bro aura?” Spencer offered. “Crypto breath?”

You snorted. “It was awful.”

“I almost challenged him to a hoodie-off,” he said seriously.

“You would’ve won.”

“Obviously.”

You both laughed then—real and light and cathartic.

Spencer reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out your keys. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You driving is a reward now?”

“Yeah,” he said proudly. “I’ve only curb-checked once this week.”

You gave him a mock stern look. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

He grinned and opened the passenger door for you. “You’re luckier.”

You slid in, still smiling. “Let’s get tacos. I deserve tacos.”

He kissed your forehead, closed the door behind you, and whispered through the glass, “You deserve everything.”

Meme Team Supreme

Courtney 👑:BRADLEY HAS LEFT THE BUILDING I repeat—THE TECH BRO HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

Damien 🔥: 🧃💼🚫 Investor arc canceled due to harassment and vibes

Shayne 👖: BREAKING: Smosh studio regains 100% oxygen levels after the departure of one (1) walking Axe body spray

Arasha💍: Not the “assistant of the year” line 💀💀 He sounded like a LinkedIn post possessed by a dating app.

Angela 🎤: ✨✨ “Have you considered scaling your role?”YES. Into his face with a chair.

Tommy 🧢: Ian looked at him like:

Chanse 🧪: Ian was all “thanks for your time,” like he hadn’t already deleted the man from our Google Drive.

Ian 🧠: Just to be clear, I never put him in the Google Drive. He showed up with a pitch deck and BDE (bad deal energy).

Spencer 🧃: was gonna throw hands settled for holding hers instead growth 🌱

Courtney 👑: You literally side-eyed him so hard he LEFT I’ve never seen a man retreat in slacks before

Shayne 👖: He had the audacity of a man who’s never been told “no” and the jawline of a lacrosse coach

Arasha💍: not gonna lie

i was impressed he fit that much cologne in one outfit

Angela 🎤: anyway, we all voted and your boyfriend wins “protective king of the year”

Spencer 🧃: do i get a crown or just eternal vigilante rights over her clipboard

You 👀: You get tacos and the right to dramatically stand outside every time I have to deal with corporate

Damien 🔥: 👑Clipboard King long may he snark

✨ Reblogs + likes | Feedback feeds the writer 📎 Requests and fic recs welcome! 📬 Comment for tag requests

[hallelujahmeatgod]

Arranged Marriage, but make it Deadpan Overachievers

Soooo imagine this:

Sylus and the fem!Y/N are like a pair of second-eldest-only-children who treat emotions the way you'd treat a low-priority email: acknowledged, brushed off, and filed away. They're both high-functioning overachievers with no patience for romance, drama, or anything that doesn’t come with a deadline and neatly color-coded tags.

So when their parents drop the “We’re arranging your marriage” bomb, neither even blinks.

Y/N, in the middle of three deadlines and a dangerously full coffee cup, just nods. “With whom?” she asks flatly, not even looking up from her computer screen. Her assistant, already overworked, now has a new task titled ‘Background Check: Sylus. Blood type optional. Tax records preferred.’

Meanwhile, Sylus gets handed a “family photo” that’s actually MC’s LinkedIn profile. He stares. “That’s her? Cute. And she did that project? Since when are arranged marriages a win? K-dramas lied to me. Arrange me harder, Pops.”

Emotions? Who has the bandwidth. Flustered? For what. Their first meeting is peak corporate courtship:

Y/N: “Hi. I read your company’s last quarterly report. Nice cost-cutting strategy.”

Sylus: “Thanks. I liked your thesis. Wanna split a Google Calendar?”

To everyone’s horror, they become that couple. The annoyingly in-sync duo who treat romantic gestures like they’re fiscal strategies. Love language? Spreadsheets with consistent formatting.

Sylus straight up restructures his entire workflow to mirror his wife's. Templates? If they’re not in her style, he physically cannot process them. Reports? If they’re not written like hers, suddenly he forgets how to read. Schedules? If they’re not plotted like she does, he swears time itself becomes an illusion, and he will miss everything.

People expected passion or tension or at least some drama.

Instead, they got a power duo that accidentally soft-launched their love story through synced schedules, iced coffee deliveries, and the occasional “Drink this or suffer.”

They’re still burnt out. Still sleep-deprived. Still running on ambition and spite. But now? There’s late-night takeout, quiet laughter, and Sylus’s off-key humming while cooking eggs.

Marriage wasn’t a plot twist—it was a peaceful pact sealed over shared Google Docs and matching time-blocks. And somehow, without realizing it, it turned into home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm currently writing a fic based on this, ya'll! Stay tuned mehehhehehe <3 Hope you like this idea as much as I dooooo~

Let me know your thoughts??

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

A Late-Night Session.

A/N: I'm not gonna lie, this is purely self serving one-shot, I'm sure I dreamt about this so I wanted to write it.

Summary: You were part of the Hellfire crew and had just finished your most recent campaign, Eddie invited you over for the night after the rest of the club had left.

Warnings: reader is afab. It does include smut so 18+, both the reader and Eddie are at least 21.

Eddie slumped back into his throne with a smile, he had been in charge of this story for a while, and it had finally come to conclusion. The cheers from the rest of your party made Eddie smile enthusiastically, you could not help but look at him, you loved seeing how happy DnD made him. Eddie’s smile was intoxicating to you and was pretty much the only reason you attended the weekly Hellfire meetings at this point. Yes you had enjoyed DnD in your younger years but now all you went for was the enigmatic leader, Eddie Munson. He was so energetic and passionate, you had never met a dungeon master like him. You were almost sad that your current campaign had ended, hoping he would come up with another one so you could all play together again and you could be in his company.

You all cheered wildly at the end of the campaign, your group being victorious against Asmodeus. It was a difficult campaign, but you and your team made it through, celebrating your win thoroughly. The night of your win was a wild one by DnD standards, you all ate too much and tried not to drink yet in front of the younger players, you could do that later. The young ones spilled out of the room, leaving to catch their rides early into the night. The older ones, like Gareth and Jeff, left a little later leaving you to clean up, not that you minded. It left you and Eddie alone, this was something that you had become used to, each week everyone would have a reason why they could not stay and help clear up. You did not mind though, you enjoyed your private time with Eddie, just the two of you, it was the favourite part of your week, you both flirted with each other, but neither would be brave enough to make an actual move. There had always been a palpable chemistry between the two of you, it was obvious to everyone that saw you together, however you both seemed to tiptoe around it.

This week, Eddie told himself it would be different, he would ask you back to his place and he would finally make a move against you. It had burned up inside of him each day he saw you that he did not act upon his attraction to you, he wanted to claim you as his before anyone else had the chance to. The air was quiet as you had both started to clear the chairs and cards away, you never wanted to interrupt Eddies workflow, he had a system for how he worked, and you respected it. You both tidied up in silence for a while until Eddie’s deep voice broke the silence between you.

“So, Y/N…. You got any plans for tonight?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he asked, he wanted to seem cool and confident, but his current form was betraying him, you turned to focus on him and your heart melted. He looked so cute and anxious that it made you smile.

“Eddie, I’m actually flattered that you think I have any sort of social life outside of DnD” You joke and smile softly at him. Eddie had always loved your playful nature, he had often wondered why you were not more popular than you were, you seemed so approachable and enigmatic to him, you were due to leave for college this year and he wanted to try and shoot his shot before you left and found someone whilst you were away.

“Well, I don’t know what you get up to in your spare time, Princess” You turned back around to stack the chairs away but you could almost feel the smirk that was plastered on his face, he was the only one that was allowed to call you Princess, you hated hearing the name from any of the other guys but Eddie got a free pass with it, for some reason the name coming from his lips made you blush and go warm, the way he called you it was almost as if he knew what effect he had on you.

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you finished clearing up, you walked over to him. “Well actually, Munson, I don’t have any sordid plans tonight, why do you ask?” you chuckle at him, trying not to be distracted by those big brown eyes of his. They were your biggest weakness; he could commit any crime known to man but if he looked at you with his big brown doe eyes you would melt. Many a time you had to tell him playfully “You put those big brown eyes away mister” because you were annoyed at him and did not want him to worm his way out of a telling off.

Eddie had finished collecting up any figures and cards that were laid out on the table as he replied to you. “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to come to mine for a drink. My uncle is away for work, so I have the trailer to myself?” He tried to seem smooth as he asked but his heart thumped wildly in his chest, he had never been this forward with you, but he wanted to try his chances with you, the moment he met you he was enthralled with you.

A soft blush crept upon your face as you responded, pretending to be interested in something else to hide it from him. “Sounds good to me chief.” You would love nothing more than to be alone with him in his trailer, you had spent time alone with him after each DnD session but being alone with him in his trailer was different, it was more intimate and was something that you had craved, you wanted a chance to be with him in an intimate setting, you were not sure what you would do but you wanted the chance nonetheless.

A smile erupted across Eddie’s face, you had actually agreed to spend time together, just you and him. His nervous sweaty palm ran through his hair trying to tame the wild curls somewhat. “I’ve got some good films we can watch whilst we have a drink, it’s completely your choice” his voice was slightly nervous as he spoke, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed your time with him. You chuckled and shook your head at him. “I was more than happy with the idea of free drinks, don’t give me the stress of choosing a movie to go with them”.

The final bits of the gathering were cleared away as Eddie chuckled, he spun his car keys in his hand and nodded his head towards the door. “C’mon then Princess, I’ve got a few beers with your name on them.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his smile, trying to hide how much it made you weak at the knees. You followed him outside and made yourself comfy in his truck, you had been in it many times, but this felt different, you felt there was a tension in the air between the both of you. The ride to his trailer was mostly uneventful, filled with pleasantries, asking how you both were and how he was doing with work and whatnot, he told you that he was adamant that he would graduate this year, 86 was going to be his year. It was not long until you pulled up outside of his trailer. The gentleman he was, Eddie made sure that he quickly walked around to open the car door for you, eliciting a playful eyeroll from you.

Eddie opened the door to his trailer, inviting you in. Giving you a playful bow before escorting you in, you had been in his trailer many times and he did that stupid bow every time. “So, you want a drink yeah?” Eddie called from the kitchen as you stood in the living room adjacent to it.

“Yeah sure thanks” You were not overly bothered about having a drink, but you just wanted an excuse to spend time alone with him. You both took a seat on the sofa an made yourself comfy, Eddie sat there, his legs wide apart and holding his beer bottle between his legs. You decide to test the waters and softly and drape your legs over his and lay down on the sofa, pretending to be nonchalant about it. Eddies eyes went wide as he felt your legs drape over his waist, his hand instinctively landed on your thigh. You were wearing criminally short shorts in Eddie’s mind; how could he resist touching you.

Eddie groaned internally as his hand rested on your bare thigh, he squeezed it softly causing a soft moan to emanate from your lips. You felt his rings dig into the flesh of your thighs and you could not help but moan against the feeling of the metal digging against your skin. The soft moan caused Eddie to grip your thigh even harder as he leant towards you with a smirk. “Are you okay, Darling?” His hand started to stroke further up your thigh and rested just beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin of your stomach, waiting for confirmation that you wanted more from him. You blushed at the fact you let the audible moan slip from your lips, it was hard to catch your breath knowing where his hands were on your body, desperately wanting them to explore further. Eddie leant towards you on the sofa, his hand ever so slight trailing up underneath your shirt, feeling his calloused palm against the soft skin of your waist.

“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?” He purred, that stupid smirk on his face caused your heart to flutter, but you would not be bested by him. You leant forward and left barely any room between his lips; he could feel your breath hot against his face. “I’m more than okay, Munson” You could sense that this was your opportunity, if you were ever going to get him then it was now, you held your composure despite your heart feeling like a jackhammer in your chest, trying not to look into those deep brown eyes that were now raking over you.

Your response and eagerness to lean closer to him was all the confirmation that Eddie needed, His free hand came swiftly to the back of your head and pulled you into him, your lips crashing together. You felt yourself moan into the kiss as his hand on your waist squeezed the delicate skin there, it felt like bliss as his hand gripped you and pulled you closer. You lost yourself in the kiss and moved closer to him, your aim to straddle yourself over his lap on the couch. An aim that Eddie did not stop you from achieving, he let out a throaty groan against your lips as he felt you move onto his lap, his hands devouring your body hungrily, he wanted to feel all of you. His lips released yours and found your neck, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collar bone. You back arched towards him, wanting him to explore all of your body with his mouth and tongue. Your hands travelled up his arms until they reached the base of his neck, where you slowly tangled your hands into his soft curls and gripped softly, pulling yourself against him even more.

Eddie was in heaven, he had you on his lap and his mouth was exploring your body, he craved more though, he had wanted you from the day he first met you and this was not enough. His lips found your neck again and his voice vibrated against your skin. “Fuck…. I need you, Princess” His deep voice against your neck made you groan into him desperately, you needed him just as bad as he needed you. You gripped your hands tighter into his hair and kissed along his jawbone, your voice soft and breathy as you spoke. “Eddie…. please.” His eyes rolled back in his head at your breathy plea and gripped your thighs roughly. Eddie regained his composure slightly and positioned his hands under your thighs. He stood up from the sofa, lifting you with him and carried you towards his bedroom down the hall. You wrapped your legs around his waist and carried on kissing along his jaw and neck, now feeling his excitement thick against your thighs.

He dropped you roughly on his bed, resting on his forearms above you on the unkempt bed with pure lust in his eyes, he had wanted you for so long and now you were here in his bed, he would make sure that you enjoyed it and would want more from him. His plump lips found your neck again, his teeth grazing against your skin causing you to moan softly and grip his hair, spurring him on even further as he nipped his way down to your chest. You helped him swiftly remove your t shirt, laying bare chested before him. Eddie’s eyes laid on you half naked form, fuck you were beautiful to him, he needed just a moment to commit this vison to memory before his lips found your skin again. He kissed along your breasts, his teeth teasing you and nipping at your soft delicate skin. You felt him suck at your soft skin, leaving his marks upon your body, this aroused you even more, knowing that he was claiming you as his, knowing that he wanted nobody else to touch you.

The kisses along your breast and stomach were sloppy and desperate, until he reached the waistband of your shorts, you looked down and could see his beautiful eyes, asking for permission to remove them, a soft nod from you was all it took, and he quickly took them off and threw them on the floor. His teeth now grazed against your inner thigh, and you moaned desperately, he was teasing you and he knew it.

“So needy Princess, good girls wait patiently” You felt his smirk against your thigh as his tongue roamed your skin, wanting to taste every inch of you. Your hips bucked towards him involuntarily, you wanted him to relieve you of the heat that was swimming in your lower stomach, you were desperate for his touch. Finally you felt his lips upon you, you were already soaking wet for him, a fact that made him chuckle against you as you felt his tongue against your clit, moving in slow languid circles to torture you further Your soft moans were like music to his ears, whilst his hands roamed your skin, his big calloused hands finding your breasts, squeezing them causing your back to arch further into his touch.

“Eddie….” You moaned softly as he continued to tease you, you wanted to feel him and let him relieve you of the pressure building inside of you. He smiled and left one final kiss against you, lifting his head from your thighs, you could see your juices dripping from his face and thought he had never looked sexier. In one quick move he removed his t shirt and leant his body against yours, revelling in the feeling of your breasts against his bare chest now. His lips found yours again, kissing you passionately as he tried desperately to undo his jeans. You could feel his thick length against your thigh through the denim of his jeans so when you felt him bare against you, you moaned desperately. You had imagined what Eddie would feel like many a night, you craved it desperately, even pleasuring yourself over the thought, something Eddie did over the thought of you as well. Eddie steeled himself and took a deep breath, he had wanted this for so long and he would savour the moment, he held his cock in his hand and swiped it against your wet folds, chuckling to himself at your desperate moans. He loved seeing you so desperate and needy beneath him, knowing that he was the one causing you to come undone like this. He slowly pressed his throbbing tip into you, feeling you stretch around his girth, squeezing his eyes closed as he felt how good you were around him.

A deep breathy moan escaped your lips as you felt him inside of you, you had been with other people before but you were not used to this size, it was almost sinful how good he was making you feel just from pressing slowly inside of you. “Fuck…..” Eddie whispered as he felt himself stretch your cunt, you felt so good already and he wasn’t sure he would last too long at this rate. He started to thrust a slow and steady pace, one that felt torturous to you, your hips bucked against him as you wanted to feel him thick and fast against you. “Baby…. Please I can’t” He whispered against your neck, he wanted to, so badly he wanted to fulfil your desire and drill into you.

“Eddie… I’m so close… please” your voice desperate for him now, your nails digging into the skin on his back, he looked at you, your eyes almost in tears because you were so desperate for him now. His hands gripped on your hips, pulling you even closer to him, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, he wanted to be close and hear your moans for him. He pounded into you roughly and after a few thrusts he felt your walls clench around him tightly, your moans were like heaven to him, he told himself that he would commit that sound to memory. One more thrust and he was spent, he felt himself tremble inside of you as he collapsed on top of your body, leaving soft wet kisses on your neck.

You were both laid together, sweaty and gasping, feeling the afterglow of your orgasm. Your hand softly stroked Eddie’s hair behind his ear, loving how the fringe of his hair was slick against the sweat of his forehead. You looked deep into his deep brown eyes and smiled, you both felt happy and at peace in each other’s arms.

Eddie finally rolled off the top of you, laying beside you he pulled you into his arms, stroking the soft skin of your back affectionately. You both laid there silently for a while enjoying each other’s embrace until Eddie spoke up, hooking a finger under you chin pulling your face up to look at him. “So, is this going to be a regular after session thing or not?” You rolled your eyes playfully at his smirk, answering him with a deep kiss. You knew this would be more than an after-session activity.

[anaheimas]

TFP Random Notes TFP Ratchet X Reader

Note: small notes about the feelings of the dear doctor

-Ratchet is tired. His life was filled with endless war, work as a military medic, and repairing faulty Earth equipment unsuitable for Cybertronians. All this made him a man who constantly felt tired.For him, confidential communication is how he could open up, a good chance to forget about problems and get rid of the burden for a while. But there was never much time for that.

Your words about his favorite earthly works, which he could never have imagined, lit a spark in his soul. He understood that his dear man was trying to share with him the side of life on Earth that he could not know because of the war. Listening attentively to your every word, he mentally decided that later he would definitely check the incomprehensible information on the Human Internet.He realized that the more he learns about your world, the closer he will become to you. He was luckier than you: he could understand so much about your home, about your traditions, about what makes you unique. And all he had to do in conversations with you was rely on his fading memory, which was losing its power with each cycle.Perhaps when they win, he will finally have the opportunity to read your favorite books and share his thoughts with you.

He dreamed of the day when he would be able to tell you about his discoveries, about how he sought to understand your world, and about how this helped him become closer to you.

- Ratchet is afraid of tenderness. When he realizes that romantic feelings are awakening in his spark, it becomes a real test for him. He goes through all the stages of accepting his feelings.But as some say, our fear of good intentions from others and for others is our main secret desire.

You are sitting on a soft sofa in a human recreation area, surrounded by scattered work documents. There is a tense silence in the air, broken only by the soft hum of computers and the quiet hum of the base. Your fingers are mechanically sorting through the papers, but your thoughts are occupied with something else entirely. You are completely immersed in the workflow, which cannot be disrupted for a second. The rest of the Prime team has long since gone about their business: someone is patrolling the streets, someone has gone on missions, and Miko and Rafe Jack have gone to Jasper. Only you and Ratchet are left at the base.

Your schedules are so packed that you haven't even had time for the short conversation you were hoping for. Ratchet, usually silent and focused, was deep in reading the mysterious Cybertronian glyphs on the monitors. You were about to put down your documents and start a conversation when you suddenly felt someone's gaze. Turning around, you are faced with Ratchet's lapis lazuli optics. He looked at you directly, confidently, as if studying every detail of your face. You realized that he had noticed your attention for a long time, but quickly looked away, grinning, as if trying to hide his observation.

However, after a moment, he turned back to you, his gaze became warmer and more interested. Ratchet spoke, his voice soft but with a hint of seriousness.:

— As a doctor, I strongly recommend that you take a break. Your health is fragile, like a spark in the dark. If you don't mind, I have an interesting story that happened to me in a field hospital. You might be curious to hear it.

You smiled, feeling the tension gradually subside.

—Thanks, Ratchet. You're right, I definitely need to change my activities. I'd love to hear it. By the way, do you remember that story about the broken cannon? I still can't help laughing when I remember her. It's a pity that the time is so short — I would have listened to you forever.

You said these words with a touch of irony, but you noticed something change in Ratchet's expression. His optics widened slightly, and his face became surprised and confused. Or was it your imagination?

— Don't be silly, Ratchet interrupted you, his voice becoming a little irritated, but there was also a note of condescension in it.

— This is just another incident. During my practice, I have seen so many things that I can say with confidence: eternity is, of course, a high estimate, but not quite accurate. But if you want, I can tell you something much more impressive. Don't hesitate.

He turned back to the screens, as if intending to continue working, but after a moment he looked at you again, waiting for your reaction. His eyes shone with interest, and his lips curved slightly into a slight smile. When he met your attentive gaze, a gentle smile appeared on his face. He paused, clearly enjoying the moment, and then spoke....

(The original artwork is the property: of LINTU)

[spiffysoultarot]

What do you need to know? Pick a troll:

Pile 1: wheel, ten pent, 5 wands, empress. Whoa, talk about good fortune coming your way! We have both benefics represented here with the wheel (Jupiter) and empress (Venus). Something you once thought was totally out of the realm of possibility for yourself could actually be working out… but not without a fight. It is worth fighting for. It’s not underhanded, nasty, manipulative type fighting— it’s more like a healthy competition that makes you want to get better or just be a better person in general. I’m getting like an auto ski rope that you grab onto to get to the top of the ski hill— it’s like that, you just have to hold on tight and maintain your balance of self-love and nurturing to get there (financial abundance awaits at the top💵). Maintain a comfortable pace— don’t stand on your tippy toes all the time trying to be extra bc that’s not sustainable— know your limits/talents. Honor your natural workflow. Overall very positive— good for you, pile 1!

Pile 2: temperance, 8 swords, queen pent, knight cups (R). This one was kind of all over the place, 8 of swords always brings chaos and murkiness to readings for me. Multiple things here so bear with me. I got that someone here may have been very patient in achieving a material goal but are now feeling trapped or extremely emotionally unfulfilled or doubting if they even deserve it— like what are you so sad about? You got it. Idk, lol, I’m sorry if that’s blunt. But also— YES you deserve it!! Like maybe the material is balanced but now your mental/emotional state is out of whack. Someone may have burned you and made you doubt your judgement.“Never trust a salesman.” Keep him blocked, girl. Another thing was a successful self-made person uncovering material/physical proof that confirmed their suspicions someone was lowkey a goldigger. Then feeling hopeless as if they will never find someone who can match them in all the ways they desire. This sucks and I’m sorry that happened— you can move on a bit wiser now but also do you even really need anyone? Or do you just think you do bc you “should”? Something to ponder on bc the Queen and temperance upright are pretty balanced on their own. Animals are great companions. 🐈

Pile 3: star, ten of wands, judgement (R), 8 cups/10 pent (R). Finally seeing your own skills/strengths/talents and embracing them which will lead to positive attention, a win, recognition! ⭐️Possibly online. ORANGE & PURPLE. With the purple, yall are intuitive af and possibly saw it as a burden before but are now embracing your natural talents without shame. You’re not afraid to be seen. You’ve walked away from that which no longer serves you and certainly didn’t bring financial fulfillment. Wishes are granted here and new opportunities are abound— but they could be draining and will require hard work but I don’t see that being a problem for this pile at all. This win/oppurtunity is a long time coming. Leaving the status quo behind, finally stopping trying to fit your square self into this circular peg of typical life that you never fit into and probably never will. You’re here to help lead the way for others by simply being yourself. This new path has its own challenges but at least you’re doing something authentic, feeling inspired and emotionally fulfilled. In living authentically, you’re actually inspiring others to do the same. Keep doing you pile 3– you rock, and it looks good on you.

[veal-exe]

how the fuck do you draw so fast, I feel like a single artfight attack takes me forever and you just seem to power through them, and they're dynamic fullbodies with backgrounds please share your secrets I'm desperate

I enter a frenzied trance state when I draw, not unlike the ancient followers of Dionysus tearing a satyr limb from limb in a ritual of ecstatic worship. It’s deeply ironic, because one of the gods I work with is Apollo, the god of order, clarity, and the arts. But then again, maybe that’s not an accident. Apollo governs the finished piece. Dionysus guides the chaos of getting there.

Jokes aside, I genuinely don’t know how much I can offer in terms of secrets, because I’ve always drawn very fast. It’s a blessing and a curse. A cursed blessing. A blessed curse. Sometimes I finish something in a few hours and then sit there stewing in the knowledge that if I had just taken a little more time, it could’ve been better. I’m often fighting my own impatience with my hands.

But there are a few actual things that I think help a lot with speed:

Thumbnail sketching: I’ll do 1–3 quick gestures before committing to a pose. They’re ugly. I mean feral and scribbly. But they help me get a feel for the movement before I start polishing anything.

Use references generously and without shame: I stopped trying to do everything from imagination and it helped so much. I build Pinterest boards. I drop in overlays. I pose dolls. Whatever gets the anatomy to make sense faster, I do this right after the thumbnail stage or even during it sometimes!! a lot of my thumbnails are blends of multiple images I'm referencing.

Work zoomed out: I rough in almost all of my base sketch and pre-linework while zoomed out to like 50% (I go Thumbnail - Rough Sketch - Cleaned Sketch - Lines). It keeps me focused on the composition and big shapes instead of hyperfixating on details I’ll delete later anyway.

Reuse brushes and workflows: Know what your favorite brush can do and push it. I have a few custom brushes I use almost exclusively for lighting, texturing, or finishing touches and I don’t waste time switching around a bunch mid-process.

Accept that not every piece is your best piece: Especially for Artfight, your goal is fun and learning and quality, but it’s okay to sometimes lean one way more than the other. I let myself make weird and imperfect things on purpose. It’s how I stay fast and stay sane.

And lastly. Make it fun. Seriously. I think a lot of my speed comes from the fact that I love drawing. It’s a joy for me, and I think that energy carries me further than I realize. I’m not trying to win a prize. I’m just possessed by a very tender shoulder demon that whispers, “you could draw another one tonight…”

Hope something in that helps! And hey, there’s nothing wrong with being slow. Some of the most mind-blowing pieces I’ve ever seen were made by people who spent a year on them. Art isn’t a race. It’s just a long strange procession of hands trying to make the invisible visible. Go at the pace that lets you enjoy it.

Oh, and most importantly, remember the 7 Deadly Art Sins

[thydungeongal]

Sorry for another AI ask, I'm sure it's getting tiring, but I am curious on your opinion. My general concern as far as the AI vs commission discourse is that AI will most hurt independent artists. Like unless AI gets way better Disney won't suffer from the spread of AI because they can effectively always use the power of the state to ensure profit, but small independent artists can't.

I do also agree that people who can't afford commissions do deserve art. I'm just concerned we are going to miss out on a lot of great art in favor of an ocean of not very good art, like is happening on Pinterest for example.

I don't really know what the solution is though. (Aside from the obvious solution of the revolution :P)

The issue pretty much boils down to "this is business as usual under capitalism." As I stated in a response to a different ask, in a world where people have their needs met and don't need to compete against the computer program that draws anime girls this whole thing would be a non-issue.

Independent artists do deserve compensation for their work, but too often I find that "compensation for work" gets perverted into this idea that independent artists deserve to have people commission their services. Which as I have stated I don't see as any different than the corporations saying "profits that didn't manifest = stealing." Working under the logic where people simply not buying your product is stealing will serve to only pervert intellectual property law further and make things even worse for the working classes.

I do think that another person in my notes said it better than I could have though: paraphrasing, the sentiment was effectively that anyone who was going to commission independent artists before is probably not going to want to use the slop machine. And most people who like creating generative images weren't going to commission independent artists anyway.

But yeah, I know that saying "this is just business as usual under capitalism" is in and of itself not too comforting, but it's also the truth. And independent artists should realize that even as they seek to ally with big companies "against AI," those big companies are actually using generative AI increasingly in their work. The technology won't go away even if Disney and Universal win their lawsuit against Midjourney, and Disney and Universal are undoubtedly already using generative AI in their workflows. The technology itself isn't going anywhere so the choices for independent artists are to either accept that they will have to contend in a market where many people will simply choose to use the free image generation machine because they have that as an option, or they must try to work towards a future where their economic anxieties are resolved.

[humalifehealthcare]

From Claims to Care

How RCM Efficiency Improves Patient Outcomes

Introduction In the healthcare world, clinical excellence is only half the equation. The other half—financial operations—often goes unnoticed until problems arise. Delayed reimbursements, mounting denials, and inconsistent cash flow can compromise both the quality of care and the sustainability of healthcare practices.

That’s why forward-thinking providers are turning to Humalife Healthcare, a trusted Revenue Cycle Management (RCM) partner, to bring efficiency, clarity, and control to their financial workflows—ultimately empowering better patient care.

RCM: More Than Just Billing Revenue Cycle Management isn’t just about billing and collections—it's the backbone of your entire healthcare operation. An efficient RCM system ensures:

Faster reimbursements

Lower denial rates

Improved operational planning

Better patient experience

When your revenue cycle is healthy, your organization can focus on what matters most: healing people.

The Hidden Link Between RCM and Patient Outcomes Here’s how optimized RCM directly improves patient care:

Reduced Administrative Delays Streamlined insurance verification and pre-authorization mean patients get timely access to care—without paperwork delays.

Financial Transparency Clear billing, upfront cost estimates, and fewer surprises at the front desk enhance patient trust and satisfaction.

More Time for Clinical Focus When providers are freed from financial bottlenecks, they can focus entirely on delivering quality care.

Reinvestment in Better Services Faster payments and fewer write-offs mean more funds can be reinvested into clinical infrastructure, staff training, and technology.

How Humalife Healthcare Delivers Impact At Humalife Healthcare, we integrate people, process, and technology to deliver RCM that performs. Here’s how we do it:

End-to-End Support From eligibility checks to denial appeals, we manage the entire revenue cycle with precision.

Domain Expertise Our team is trained in US and UK healthcare systems, coding standards, and payer rules.

Customized Solutions We align our processes with your workflows—no one-size-fits-all approach.

Transparency and Reporting With real-time dashboards and analytics, you stay in control and informed.

Client Win in Focus Case Study: Mid-sized Hospital in the UK Challenge: 28% of claims were being delayed due to improper coding and eligibility issues. Solution: Humalife implemented coding audits and pre-verification workflows. Result: Denials reduced by 41%, and claim cycle time improved by 35%. The finance team reported improved forecasting, and patients received faster care with less paperwork.

Conclusion In today’s healthcare economy, RCM isn’t just a back-office function—it’s a patient care enabler. At Humalife Healthcare, we help providers transform financial processes into strategic assets that power care delivery and drive sustainable growth.

Ready to Transform Your Revenue Cycle? Get in touch with Humalife Healthcare to learn how efficient RCM can enhance your care, reputation, and revenue

[wedontdeservethestars]

Can U do Johnny Cage w/ a reader who looks exactly like her sister Kitana? Thx 🙏

Ok. First of all anon I am SO sorry this took me like. 7 months to get around to. Idk why but for a while I just had NO workflow with this one BUT!! I ended up liking how it came out! Lots of emotional stuff in this one, with reader and Johnny learning to appreciate one another. Again--so sorry for the wait but I hope you like it!

(AO3 link here!)

“Kitana, baby!”

“No.”

“Ohhh, the other one.” 

That was how most of your conversations with Johnny began. Sure, you were technically the younger twin. You were second in line just behind the new Kahn, and despite the numerous times you and Kitana had agreed to this arrangement of Kahn and Royal Advisor (though, in all honesty, you held more power than a simple Advisor), you couldn’t help the jealousy you felt towards her. How could you not? All because of a few mere minutes of time-difference, you had spent most of your life in Kitana’s shadow. The forgotten sister.

“That isn’t my name, either.” It was bad enough being mistaken for your twin by anyone, but for some reason the fact that it was Johnny made you even more irritated. 

“Sorry, princess,” he shrugged carelessly. 

“And I’m not a princess,” you continued. The words felt sharp on your tongue. One of the first things you insisted upon when Kitana took over the kingdom was to remove your title entirely. You couldn’t stand the thought of her growing to such a powerful rank while yours stayed the same. Princess. You hated the word. It seemed childish. 

“Man, I just cannot win today, huh?” Johnny waved his hand as if to say, ‘ah, well,’ and wiped any memory of the past few seconds from his mind.

“If you’re looking for Kitana Kahn,” you said, emphasizing her title, “She’s with Master Liu Kang.”

You pointed a finger towards the opposite end of the venue, where, indeed, Kitana stood with a few close friends. Though she and Liu Kang weren’t touching, they were indeed standing rather close together. Besides, Johnny was well aware of their relationship to one another. Most were. You couldn’t understand why he tried so hard to gain the affection of an already-involved woman. 

Johnny, following your aim, squinted, lifting his shades. He apparently decided that he didn’t like the company she kept, because he shook his head, flipping the glasses back down. “Eh. Whatever. Was just gonna check if she’s havin’ a good time.”

“Are we supposed to?” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. Outrealm-Earthrealm meetings like this weren’t your idea of a good time, even if the events were thrown specifically as pleasant meetings where members could laugh and drink and be in good nature with one another. To keep the peace, Kitana had explained when she first brought up the idea. There had only been a handful so far, but you hadn’t enjoyed yourself at a single one of them. Maybe you were just too much of a wallflower. 

“Are you supposed to have a good time a party?” Johnny tried to clarify. “Uh…yeah. Yeah you are.”

“It’s not really a party…”

“Drinks. Music. F…” Johnny frowned as he drew out the ‘f’. His mouth started to form the word ‘friends,’ but he quickly backtracked. “Fffffun people.”

“I suppose,” you grumbled, arms folded over your chest. He sighed and gave you a nudge.

“C’mon, loosen up! You don’t have to do anything. No world to save, no politics or anything. Just relax.”

You were about to point out how, technically, the only reason this ‘party’ was happening was because of politics that specifically dealt with the two of your homeworlds, but the thought suddenly exhausted you and you let it slide. “I don’t…relax easily.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Johnny chuckled and took a sip of his own drink, some sort of foamy liquid with an ungodly color of aquamarine fading to green at the bottom. It looked like it could kill. Half-heartedly, you hoped it would. “Tell you what, next drink is on me.”

Well. It couldn’t hurt. “Fine.”

“Hella.” He gave you a grin, his teeth too perfect and square, and grabbed you by the arm, practically dragging you to the catering bar. “C’mon!”

“Johnny, slow down–” you frowned. “I’m in heels!” 

“What’dya want?” he asked as you stumbled up behind him.

“Uh…” Your gaze skimmed over the menu. Drinks you’d never heard of with ingredients even less familiar. Of course, the catering company had to come Earthrealm. “I don’t know. That one looks fine.”

“Shoulda known you were a Pinot Grigio kinda gal.” He leaned over and murmured something to the bartender, who tried his best not to look flustered (and failed). You scoffed. You couldn’t ever imagine giving into Johnny’s “charms” so easily. Never.

Shortly, a tall fluted glass was in your gloved hand. You took a tentative sip and immediately felt your tongue dry up. Not letting yourself wince at the sick, bittersweet tang that overcame your taste buds, you bravely took another sip. Johnny didn’t take notice–he was in the midst of downing the rest of his glass. Slamming the glass down, he stifled a quiet burp into his fist and laughed. You rolled your eyes. When the bartender turned around again, there was already another glass of whatever horrid drink he’d just finished. 

“Thanks, stud.” He raised his glass and gave a wink to the server, who, this time, couldn’t stop a shy little smile from coming across his face. You felt sick.

“Thank you for the drink,” you mumbled and started to hightail it out of the crowd, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. 

“Hey, c’mon. At least talk with me a little. Not like you were doin’ anything else.”

You sighed. Damn him. “Can we at least go somewhere quiet? I don’t like crowds.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he shrugged. Realizing you weren’t going to get rid of him so easily, you decided to suck it up and scanned the venue, looking for a way out. You spied a patch on the outskirts that wasn’t too populated, a little garden area with leaves that glistened in the dew of night and held promise for some peace and quiet. 

“This way.”

While squeezing through seemingly endless amounts of people, you heard Johnny behind you, stopping to talk to a few and saying a quick ‘hi’ to nearly everyone else. You wished he would just focus on the task at hand, but then again, did you expect him to act any other way?

“So, Edenia,” he said awkwardly as you two came up on your destination. Fortunately, your guess had been right–it was much emptier and calmer over here. 

“What about it?” You turned to face him and suddenly wished he weren’t so tall.

“Uh…how’s it going?” he tried. “With your sister as ruler, and all.”

“Did you really insist on continuing to stay with me just to take about my sister all night?” you asked curtly. 

“No! No, just, uh, y’know. It’s a big shift, I’m sure. And…” He gave a timid chuckle and lowered his voice to a stage-whisper, as if he had an audience you didn’t know about. “I’m just trying to make conversation. Help me out here.” 

Your lips twitched. You hid them in your glass. “It’s going fine.”

“Good, good.” 

There was a silence, and before Johnny could say something stupid, you decided to at least try. “How are your…movies?”

“Oh, great!” You couldn’t begin to describe the amount of relief that washed over his face. “We just finished wrapping Breaknose Mountain last month. That’s gonna be a good one. Give the audience a good ol’ tug at the heartstrings. Y’know, I don’t really get to do dramas often, which, like, whatever, every actor has their niche, and mine happens to be awesome-as-shit stunts and comedy and, like, shirtless scenes, so I always have to really appreciate the times where I get to hunker down and get into a serious role. Not that all my roles aren’t serious, at least, I take them seriously, but it’s different, y’know?” 

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, you didn’t know–Edenia didn’t have movies and the stories and theater your culture did have were nothing like whatever was going on in Johnny’s films, based on what he had described to you before–but the way he spoke about this…it was the first time you saw something genuine in Johnny. Something more than the brash sense of style and flirtatious glances and overconfidence. 

“That’s…interesting.” You weren’t lying.

Johnny smiled, and for once it didn’t come off as entirely jaded. “Nah, I just…uh, actually, forget it. It’s kinda stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.” You were curious to see whatever side of him was starting to peek out. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” he chuckled with a nod. “I, uh…I haven’t been on a stage since I was a kid. Like, live acting, in a play. Probably not since high school. And…I miss it. A lot. It’s different from film. And the stuff I did then, I’m sure it was shitty as hell, but it felt real.”

He paused, a wistful look coming across his face. He looked distracted, like he wasn’t really seeing you anymore even though his eyes were still trained on you.

“I loved Shakespeare especially. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as alive as I did when I got to be Romeo. It was…everything. It was funny, it was sad, it was romantic. There was fighting. There was kissing. And the audience, they were right there in Verona with us. Living and breathing the same air. Or…that’s what it felt like, at least. With movies, you just…you film. And it’s usually on a green-screen set. And then you go home, and…you wait for it to come out, and the reviews come in. But they’re just words on paper. Comments. Everyone sees you act but no one sees you act.”

“Johnny…” You had no idea exactly what he was talking about in terms of sets and Shakespeare and whatever Verona was, but you didn’t need to. “That’s…”

“Dumb,” he said quickly, eager to put back on that Hollywood-boy persona. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I mean, I’m one of the biggest stars in America. Why would I want anything else?”

“I don’t think it’s dumb,” you frowned.

“Oh.” A look of genuine surprise came across his face. “Well…thanks, I guess.”

“Maybe you could still perform onstage if you really wanted to.”

“Eh, doesn’t really match the Cage brand,” he smiled sadly. “It’s okay. It’s just somethin’ I think about sometimes.”

“Well…I bet you were wonderful onstage.” You offered your best attempt at a smile, and Johnny gladly took it.

“Oh, I was.” Immediately your smile dropped as his old facade came back up, but he just laughed. “Kidding. Thank you. Really.”

“Humph,” you said in return. 

Johnny swirled what remained of his beverage around in its glass. “Can I ask a question? And promise you won’t get mad?”

You sighed, but nodded, finishing off your own drink almost just to spite the flavor. “Fine.”

“It’s about Kitana,” he warned.

“I thought we got past that.” But you waved your hand to tell him to keep going. 

Still, Johnny hesitated. “How do you really feel about her taking the throne. ‘Cause, like, you guys aren’t just sisters, right? You’re twins?”

You nodded once. Words sat on your tongue, but you knew you letting them escape would be a mistake. “I feel like…I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“Why not?” He cocked his head. “It’s just you and me. No one’s gonna hear.”

“I don’t care about what others think,” you lied. Surrounded by this kind of company, your jealousy could easily be misconstrued as planned treason. 

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I hardly know you. And it’s not an issue for a Earthrealmer to worry about.”

“So it is an issue,” he pressed. 

“No,” you huffed, “I didn’t mean–”

“Didn’t you?” His ocean blues pierced into your skull and you had to avert your own eyes. 

“Don’t do this,” you muttered. 

“Do what?”

“Cage.”

“What?” he asked again. “Listen, I’m just sayin’–if you can’t talk about this stuff normally, then I don’t mind being an outlet. Like me and my stupid theater dreams.”

“The aren’t stupid,” you said before really realizing you were doing it. Quickly, you moved on. “And that doesn’t equate to the politics of my kingdom. Not at all. One is a dream. The other is…”

“A dream?” he asked knowingly. “Of…running away? Being Kahn? Going back to the way things were?”

You didn’t deny any of his guesses. You also hoped he wouldn’t notice that detail. “Why do you care so much?”

“I…don’t know.” He frowned into his drink, and then had some more of it. “Just wanna get to know you. Know what you care about. Not what the Royal Advisor of Edenia does.”

There was silence for a long time. It got to the point where it was almost impressive how long Johnny was keeping his mouth shut for. You were clenching your teeth so hard you thought they might crack when you finally answered him. “Kitana has…everything now. We spent so long dreaming of the day when we would finally overtake that monster who killed our father, and when we could pay respects to our lost mother, and…Gods. I don’t know. We planned everything together, in hushed whispers at night, ever since we were children. We both agreed she should be Kahn. That I would remain by her side. But…it feels more like I’m behind her, or beneath her. And why shouldn’t I be equal with her?”

He stared at you. You suddenly felt awful for voicing your ugly desires.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. That was…”

“You’re right.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“You’re right,” Johnny said again. “I mean, like, I don’t wanna start a whole-ass Edenian civil war or anything, but I think it’s pretty normal for you to feel this way.”

Secretly, you were immensely relieved to hear that. “It feels like it isn’t.”

“I don’t know how else you’re supposed to feel about it.” He wrinkled his nose. “Content? ‘Cause that seems like a pretty shitty deal.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter either way,” you tried to brush off. “I can’t do anything about it.”

“You could talk to her,” he offered.

“Deceptively simple answer,” you replied in such a way that made it clear how often you’d thought about this. 

“I don’t think it is.” But he backed off when you gave him an annoyed look. “But hey. I barely know what’s goin’ on with my own country’s politics, let alone yours.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” 

Johnny let you stew in the conversation while he finished off his drink, setting the glass on the ground beside yours. “Well, I guess…I’m sorry. That you’re in this position.”

Hearing him say that felt like a cool breeze filling your lungs. It didn’t solve any of your problems, of course, but it was nice to have someone just…listen. Understand. 

“Thank you,” you said, and you meant it. “I’m sorry for you, too. About your acting stuff.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he shrugged, but you thought you saw his chest relax like yours had.

The silence you shared was a little awkward, but it wasn’t tense like the previous ones. It was a little bit nice, actually. You looked around the venue, deciding that the location and lights and music were a little bit nice too now that you really thought about it, and when you looked back Johnny was staring at you in a very, very particular way.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I can give you something Kitana doesn’t have.”

“What’s that?” He was close, now, his face looming over yours. It made you nervous. You almost wished he would get closer. 

“I can’t tell you until I give it,” he smiled. His eyes searched yours for something–understanding of what he was talking about, maybe. His smile widened: he’d found it. Rightfully so. You did know what he was talking about.

“You promise she doesn’t have this?” you asked, feeling your chest grow tight. Johnny moved in closer–his strong nose was nearly touching yours now. 

“Oh, big time,” he laughed quietly. 

You gave a simple nod, and that was enough. Johnny sealed the kiss.