#Classified Software

[businessadvis321]

Key Revenue Factors for Your Classified Marketplace in 2024

In today's tech-driven era, the classified business has emerged as a super business with the power of technology. Businesses have changed their work algorithm in a convenient, quick, and hassle-free way. 

While the core concept remains the same, the transition to digital platforms has made the experience seamless. Enter into a world of seamless and profitable Classified Software business experiences. In a constantly evolving world, your approach to buying and selling should evolve too.

Adapting to the new change - the classifieds script is the key to unlocking your business success. How did the classified ad script elevate your business success? 

This article explores strategies to maximize the revenue of your classified ads business. 

Let's begin with some enlightening statistics!

What is a Classified Marketplace?

A few years ago, people often confused classified advertising with traditional classified ad script businesses, where goods were listed for resale in newspapers. Interested buyers would contact sellers directly to negotiate prices.

In today's fast-paced world, newspapers have also gone digital, and so has classified advertising. Classified software emerged, enabling users to buy and sell items directly, without intermediaries. This shift has facilitated a transition to a customer-to-customer (C2C) model in classifieds.

C2C online marketplace apps are similar to e-commerce apps. The only difference is, that in classified applications, people can sell their used goods. Letgo and OfferUp are a notable classified marketplace to buy and sell used products.

Growing Demand for Classified Marketplace

The online classified market is dynamic and evolving, facing exciting challenges. Studies indicate a positive outlook among industry leaders about its future. A significant 84% of CEOs and owners in online classified enterprises expressed optimism about the market's prospects in the coming years.

The business model in classifieds is increasingly emphasizing transactional incomes. Currently, revenues from transactional services constitute an average of 15% of companies' total revenues, with expectations to grow up to 50% in the future.

Looking ahead, the online classifieds market is projected to reach $741.47 billion by 2032, with a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 24.80% during the forecast period from 2024 to 2032.

Industry reports also highlight the future plans among companies, with 57% planning to launch new products and 59% intending to hire new employees in the coming years. 

Furthermore, 39% of surveyed businesses plan to modify their operations within the next 3-5 years to stay competitive and innovative in the dynamic classified industry.

How does a Classified Marketplace Make Money?

Each online platform adopts different monetization strategies. Here are the most commonly used models across the classified marketplace like Letgo:

In-App Advertisement 

Harnessing in-app advertisements effectively boosts individual user product visibility on the platform. Here's how integrating targeted in-app advertising can drive revenue:

Implement Targeted Advertising: Set up a system that lets sellers display their products to a specific audience based on user preferences, location, and search history. This targeted approach improves user engagement and increases the possibility of conversions.

Encourage User Engagement: To maximize earnings, focus on keeping users engaged on your classified software for longer periods. Enable sellers to create special offers, discounts, or bundled deals that attract more buyers. 

This not only promotes individual listings but also encourages multiple purchases, thereby increasing overall sales and revenue.

Membership Fee 

Another effective way to monetize a classifieds script is by implementing membership fees. This can be divided into two categories: special features for a price and subscription plans.

Special Features for a Price 

Offer special features to premium users. For example, users can pay to have their listings appear at the top of search results. This not only generates revenue but also provides added value to users willing to pay for extra visibility.

Subscription Plans 

While not all marketplaces use this feature, subscription plans can be a valuable addition to increase revenue. By offering different plans, users can choose a level of service that suits their needs. 

For instance, a platform like Contentplace might offer three subscription plans, each providing various benefits based on the price. Casual users can opt for a basic plan, while more frequent users might choose a premium plan for additional features. 

This tiered approach caters to different user needs and maximizes the revenue potential of your classified ads marketplace.

Seller Fee

The seller fee is similar to the membership fee. Sellers pay a small amount to list their products on the platform, typically between 1% and 5% of the sale price.

Interestingly, some platforms allow sellers to decide how much they want to charge. For small traders or those selling just a few items, the fee might be minimal. This flexibility makes it easier for sellers to list their products without significant upfront costs.

Charging a listing fee benefits the platform by generating revenue while providing value to sellers. If the platform effectively connects sellers with buyers, most sellers will be willing to pay a small fee for the increased exposure and sales opportunities.

Transaction Fees

Every online buy-sell marketplace uses transaction fees to generate revenue. This approach involves charging a fee from buyers to facilitate smooth exchanges of goods and services on the classified ad script platform. The fee charged is known as the transaction fee.

You can either set a fixed amount as a transaction fee or decide on a specific percentage to keep from every transaction amount.

In-App Purchases

A classified website script can generate income through in-app purchases rather than from app downloads or sales. This allows sellers to draw attention to their listings and sell their products quickly.  

For instance, users can pay to “feature” a listing. This places the listing at the top of the user’s feed and highlights it with a unique “Features” ribbon. Additionally, it adds a button that allows buyers to contact the sellers with a single tap. Sellers can choose to feature their product listing for 24 hours, 3 days, or 7 days. 

While the core functionality of the marketplace - buying and selling is free, users can pay for special features to enhance their experience. 

This revenue model encourages wide app utilization and increases brand awareness, as customers are more likely to try something out when it’s free. 

Wrapping Up

Now that you have understood the key revenue strategies for classified software. By implementing a combination of these revenue factors and continually adapting to user behavior, your classified marketplace can thrive in the competitive classified ads script market and generate substantial revenue. 

All you need to do is reach out to the right development team and pick a robust classified ad script to start your classified business instantly!

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[techanicinfotech]

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[truelist]

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[romerona]

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government’s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part I

This was never supposed to happen. Your role in this operation was simple—deliver the program, ensure it reached the right hands, and let the professionals handle the breaching.

And then, of course, reality decided to light that plan on fire.

The program—codenamed Ethera—was yours. You built it from scratch with encryption so advanced that even the most elite cyber operatives couldn’t crack it without your input. A next-generation adaptive, self-learning decryption software, an intrusion system designed to override and manipulate high-security military networks, Ethera was intended to be both a weapon and a shield, capable of infiltrating enemy systems while protecting your own from counterattacks in real-time. A ghost in the machine. A digital predator. A weapon in the form of pure code. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could disable fleets, and ground aircraft, and turn classified intelligence into an open book. Governments would kill for it. Nations could fall because of it.

Not that you ever meant to, of course. It started as a little experimental security measure program, something to protect high-level data from cyberattacks, not become the ultimate hacking tool. But innovation has a funny way of attracting the wrong kind of attention, and before you knew it, Ethera had become one, if not the most classified, high-risk program in modern times. Tier One asset or so the Secret Service called it.

It was too powerful, too dangerous—so secret that only a select few even knew of its existence, and even fewer could comprehend how it worked.

And therein lay the problem. You were the only person who could properly operate it.

Which was so unfair.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be your problem. You were just the creator, the brain behind the code, the one who spent way too many sleepless nights debugging this monstrosity. Your job was supposed to end at development. But no. Now, because of some bureaucratic nonsense and the fact that no one else could run it without accidentally bricking an entire system, you had been promoted—scratch that, forcibly conscripted—into field duty.

And your mission? To install it in an enemy satellite.

A literal, orbiting, high-security, military-grade satellite, may you add.

God. Why? Why was your country always at war with others? Why couldn’t world leaders just, you know, go to therapy like normal people? Why did everything have to escalate to international cyber warfare?

Which is how you ended up here.

At Top Gun. The last place in the world you wanted to be.

You weren’t built for this. You thrive in sipping coffee in a cosy little office and handling cyber threats from a safe, grounded location. You weren’t meant to be standing in the halls of an elite fighter pilot training program, surrounded by the best aviators in the world—people who thought breaking the sound barrier was a casual Wednesday.

It wasn’t the high-tech cyberwarfare department of the Pentagon, nor some dimly lit black ops facility where hackers in hoodies clacked away at keyboards. No. It was Top Gun. A place where pilots use G-forces like a personal amusement park ride.

You weren’t a soldier, you weren’t a spy, you got queasy in elevators, you got dizzy when you stood too fast, hell, you weren’t even good at keeping your phone screen from cracking.

... And now you were sweating.

You swallowed hard as Admiral Solomon "Warlock" Bates led you through the halls of the naval base, your heels clacking on the polished floors as you wiped your forehead. You're nervous, too damn nervous and this damned weather did not help.

"Relax, Miss," Warlock muttered in that calm, authoritative way of his. "They're just pilots."

Just pilots.

Right. And a nuclear warhead was just a firework.

And now, somehow, you were supposed to explain—loosely explain, because God help you, the full details were above even their clearance level—how Ethera, your elegant, lethal, unstoppable digital masterpiece, was about to be injected into an enemy satellite as part of a classified mission.

This was going to be a disaster.

You had barely made it through the doors of the briefing room when you felt it—every single eye in the room locking onto you.

It wasn’t just the number of them that got you, it was the intensity. These were Top Gun pilots, the best of the best, and they radiated the kind of confidence you could only dream of having. Meanwhile, you felt like a stray kitten wandering into a lion’s den.

Your hands tightened around the tablet clutched to your chest. It was your lifeline, holding every critical detail of Ethera, the program that had dragged you into this utterly ridiculous situation. If you could’ve melted into the walls, you absolutely would have. But there was no escaping this.

You just had to keep it together long enough to survive this briefing.

So, you inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and forced your heels forward, trying to project confidence—chin up, back straight, eyes locked onto Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, who you’d been introduced to earlier that day.

And then, of course, you dropped the damn tablet.

Not a graceful drop. Not the kind of gentle slip where you could scoop it back up and act like nothing happened. No, this was a full-on, physics-defying fumble. The tablet flipped out of your arms, ricocheted off your knee, and skidded across the floor to the feet of one of the pilots.

Silence.

Pure, excruciating silence.

You didn’t even have the nerve to look up right away, too busy contemplating whether it was physically possible to disintegrate on command. But when you finally did glance up—because, you know, social convention demanded it—you were met with a sight that somehow made this entire disaster worse.

Because the person crouching down to pick up your poor, abused tablet was freaking hot.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a head of golden curls that practically begged to be tousled by the wind, and, oh, yeah—a moustache that somehow worked way too well on him.

He turned the tablet over in his hands, inspecting it with an amused little smirk before handing it over to you. "You, uh… need this?"

Oh, great. His voice is hot too.

You grabbed it back, praying he couldn't see how your hands were shaking. “Nope. Just thought I’d test gravity real quick.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and his smirk deepened like he was enjoying this way too much. You, on the other hand, wanted to launch yourself into the sun.

With what little dignity you had left, you forced a quick, tight-lipped smile at him before turning on your heel and continuing forward, clutching your tablet like it was a life raft in the middle of the worst social shipwreck imaginable.

At the front of the room, Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson stood with the kind of posture that said he had zero time for nonsense, waiting for the room to settle. You barely had time to take a deep breath before his voice cut through the air.

“Alright, listen up.” His tone was crisp, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “This is Dr Y/N L/N. Everything she is about to tell you is highly classified. What you hear in this briefing does not leave this room. Understood?”

A chorus of nods. "Yes, sir."

You barely resisted the urge to physically cringe as every pilot in the room turned to stare at you—some with confusion, others with barely concealed amusement, and a few with the sharp assessing glances of people who had no clue what they were supposed to do with you.

You cleared your throat, squared your shoulders, and did your best to channel even an ounce of the confidence you usually had when you were coding at 3 AM in a secure, pilot-free lab—where the only judgment you faced was from coffee cups and the occasional system error.

As you reached the podium, you forced what you hoped was a composed smile. “Uh… hi, nice to meet you all.”

Solid. Real professional.

You glanced up just long enough to take in the mix of expressions in the room—some mildly interested, some unreadable, and one particular moustached pilot who still had the faintest trace of amusement on his face.

Nope. Not looking at him.

You exhaled slowly, centering yourself. Stay focused. Stay professional. You weren’t just here because of Ethera—you were Ethera. The only one who truly understood it. The only one who could execute this mission.

With another tap on your tablet, the slide shifted to a blacked-out, redacted briefing—only the necessary information was visible. A sleek 3D-rendered model of the enemy satellite appeared on the screen, rotating slowly. Most of its details were blurred or omitted entirely.

“This is Blackstar, a highly classified enemy satellite that has been operating in a low-Earth orbit over restricted airspace.” Your voice remained even, and steady, but the weight of what you were revealing sent a shiver down your spine. “Its existence has remained off the radar—literally and figuratively—until recently, when intelligence confirmed that it has been intercepting our encrypted communications, rerouting information, altering intelligence, and in some cases—fabricating entire communications.”

Someone exhaled sharply. Another shifted in their seat.

“So they’re feeding us bad intel?” one of them with big glasses and blonde hair asked, voice sceptical but sharp.

“That’s the theory,” you confirmed. “And given how quickly our ops have been compromised recently, it’s working.”

You tapped again, shifting to the next slide. The silent infiltration diagram appeared—an intricate web of glowing red lines showing Etherea’s integration process, slowly wrapping around the satellite’s systems like a virus embedding itself into a host.

“This is where Ethera comes in,” you said, shifting to a slide that displayed a cascading string of code, flickering across the screen. “Unlike traditional cyberweapons, Ethera doesn’t just break into a system. It integrates—restructuring security protocols as if it was always meant to be there. It’s undetectable, untraceable, and once inside, it grants us complete control of the Blackstar and won’t even register it as a breach.”

“So we’re not just hacking it," The only female pilot of the team said, arms crossed as she studied the data. “We’re hijacking it.”

“Exactly,” You nodded with a grin.

You switched to the next slide—a detailed radar map displaying the satellite’s location over international waters.

“This is the target area,” you continued after a deep breath. “It’s flying low-altitude reconnaissance patterns, which means it’s using ground relays for some of its communication. That gives us a small window to infiltrate and shut it down.”

The next slide appeared—a pair of unidentified fighter aircraft, patrolling the vicinity.

“And this is the problem,” you said grimly. “This satellite isn’t unguarded.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the pilots took in the fifth-generation stealth fighters displayed on the screen.

“We don’t know who they belong to,” you admitted. “What we do know is that they’re operating with highly classified tech—possibly experimental—and have been seen running defence patterns around the satellite’s flight path.”

Cyclone stepped forward then, arms crossed, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Which means your job is twofold. You will escort Dr L/N’s aircraft to the infiltration zone, ensuring Ethera is successfully deployed. If we are engaged, your priority remains protecting the package and ensuring a safe return.”

Oh, fantastic, you could not only feel your heartbeat in your toes, you were now officially the package.

You cleared your throat, tapping the screen again. Ethera’s interface expanded, displaying a cascade of sleek code.

“Once I’m in range,” you continued, “Ethera will lock onto the satellite’s frequency and begin infiltration. From that point, it’ll take approximately fifty-eight seconds to bypass security and assume control."

Silence settled over the room like a thick cloud, the weight of their stares pressing down on you. You could feel them analyzing, calculating, probably questioning who in their right mind thought putting you—a hacker, a tech specialist, someone whose idea of adrenaline was passing cars on the highway—into a fighter jet was a good idea.

Finally, one of the pilots—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, and very clearly one of the cocky ones—tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed too much confidence.

“So, let me get this straight.” His voice was smooth, and confident, with just the right amount of teasing. “You, Doctor—our very classified, very important tech specialist—have to be in the air, in a plane, during a mission that has a high probability of turning into a dogfight… just so you can press a button?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of being airborne.

“Well…” You gulped, very much aware of how absolutely insane this sounded when put like that. “It’s… more than just that, but, yeah, essentially.”

A slow grin spread across his face, far too entertained by your predicament.

“Oh,” he drawled, “this is gonna be fun.”

Before you could fully process how much you already hated this, Cyclone—who had been watching the exchange with his signature unamused glare—stepped forward, cutting through the tension with his sharp, no-nonsense voice.

“This is a classified operation,” he stated, sharp and authoritative. “Not a joyride.”

The blonde’s smirk faded slightly as he straightened, and the rest of the pilots quickly fell in line.

Silence lingered for a moment longer before Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson let out a slow breath and straightened. His sharp gaze swept over the room before he nodded once.

“All right. That’s enough.” His tone was firm, the kind that left no room for argument. “We’ve got work to do. The mission will take place in a few weeks' time, once we’ve run full assessments, completed necessary preparations, and designated a lead for this operation.”

There was a slight shift in the room. Some of the pilots exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming mission finally settling in. Others, mainly the cocky ones, looked as though they were already imagining themselves in the cockpit.

“Dismissed,” Cyclone finished.

The pilots stood, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out of the room, the blonde one still wearing a smug grin as he passed you making you frown and turn away, your gaze then briefly met the eyes of the moustached pilot.

You hadn’t meant to look, but the moment your eyes connected, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t want to know.

So you did the only logical thing and immediately looked away and turned to gather your things. You needed to get out of here, to find some space to breathe before your brain short-circuited from stress—

“Doctor, Stay for a moment.”

You tightened your grip on your tablet and turned back to Cyclone, who was watching you with that unreadable, vaguely disapproving expression that all high-ranking officers seemed to have perfected. “Uh… yes, sir?”

Once the last pilot was out the door, Cyclone exhaled sharply and crossed his arms.

“You realize,” he said, “that you’re going to have to actually fly, correct?”

You swallowed. “I—well, technically, I’ll just be a passenger.”

His stare didn’t waver.

“Doctor,” he said, tone flat, “I’ve read your file. I know you requested to be driven here instead of taking a military transport plane. You also took a ferry across the bay instead of a helicopter. And I know that you chose to work remotely for three years to avoid getting on a plane.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That… could mean anything.”

“It means you do not like flying, am I correct?”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet as you tried to find a way—any way—out of this. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to fly the plane. I just need to be in it long enough to deploy Ethera—”

Cyclone cut you off with a sharp look. “And what happens if something goes wrong, Doctor? If the aircraft takes damage? If you have to eject mid-flight? If you lose comms and have to rely on emergency protocols?”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting at the very thought of ejecting from a jet.

Cyclone sighed, rubbing his temple as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “We cannot afford to have you panicking mid-mission. If this is going to work, you need to be prepared. That’s why, starting next week you will train with the pilots on aerial procedures and undergoing mandatory training in our flight simulation program.”

Your stomach dropped. “I—wait, what? That’s not necessary—”

“It’s absolutely necessary,” Cyclone cut in, his tone sharp. “If you can’t handle a simulated flight, you become a liability—not just to yourself, but to the pilots escorting you. And in case I need to remind you, Doctor, this mission is classified at the highest level. If you panic mid-air, it won’t just be your life at risk. It’ll be theirs. And it’ll be national security at stake.”

You inhaled sharply. No pressure. None at all.

Cyclone watched you for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly softer but still firm. “You’re the only one who can do this, Doctor. That means you need to be ready.”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together before nodding stiffly. “Understood, sir.”

Cyclone gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Dismissed.”

You turned and walked out, shoulders tense, fully aware that in three days' time, you were going to be strapped into a high-speed, fighter jet. And knowing your luck?

You were definitely going to puke.

Part 2???

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Tech’s benevolent-dictator-for-life to authoritarian pipeline

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/10/bdfl/#high-on-your-own-supply

Silicon Valley's "authoritarian turn" is hard to miss: tech bosses have come out for autocrats like Trump, Orban, Milei, Bolsonaro, et al, and want to turn San Francisco into a militia-patrolled apartheid state operated for the benefit of tech bros:

https://newrepublic.com/article/180487/balaji-srinivasan-network-state-plutocrat

Smart people have written well about what this means, and have gotten me thinking, too:

https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/why-did-silicon-valley-turn-right

Regular readers will know that I make a kind of hobby of collecting definitions of right-wing thought:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#tolerable-racism

One of these – a hoary old cliche – is that "a conservative is a liberal who's been mugged." I don't give this one much credence, but it takes on an interesting sheen when combined with this anonymous gem: "Conservatives say they long for the simpler times of their childhood, but what they miss is that the reason they lived simpler lives back then wasn't that the times were simpler; rather, it's because they were children."

If you're a tech founder who once lived in a world where your workers were also your pals and didn't shout at you about labor relations, perhaps that's not because workers got "woke," but rather, because when you were all scrapping at a startup, you were all on an equal footing and there weren't any labor relations to speak of. And if you're a once-right-on tech founder who used to abstractly favor "social justice" but now find yourself beset by people demanding that you confront your privilege, perhaps what's changed isn't those people, but rather the amount of privilege you have.

In other words, "a reactionary tech boss is a liberal tech boss who hired a bunch of pals only to have them turn around and start a union." And also: "Tech founders say things were simpler when they were running startups, but what they miss is that the reason no one asked their startup to seriously engage with the social harms it caused is the because the startup was largely irrelevant to society, while the large company it turned into is destroying millions of peoples' lives today."

The oft-repeated reactionary excuse that "I didn't leave the progressive movement, they left me," can be both technically true and also profoundly wrong: if progressives in your circle never bothered you about your commercial affairs, perhaps that's because those affairs didn't matter when you were grinding out code in your hacker house, but they matter a lot now that you have millions of users and thousands of employees.

I've been in tech circles since before the dawn of the dotcoms; I was part of a movement of people who would come over to your house with a stack of floppies and install TCP/IP and PPP networking software on your computer and show you how to connect to a BBS or ISP, because we wanted everyone to have as much fun as we were having.

Some of us channeled that excitement into starting companies that let people get online, create digital presences of their own, and connect with other people. Some of us were more .ORG than .COM and gave our lives over to activism and nonprofits, missing out on the stock options and big paydays. But even though we ended up in different places, we mostly started in the same place, as spittle-flecked, excited kids talking a mile a minute about how cool this internet thing would be and helping you, a normie, jump into it.

Many of my peers from the .ORG and .COM worlds went on to set up institutions – both companies and nonprofits – that have since grown to be critical pieces of internet infrastructure: classified ad platforms, online encyclopedias, CMSes and personal publishing services, critical free/open source projects, standards bodies, server-to-server utilities, and more.

These all started out as benevolent autocracies: personal projects started by people who pitched in to help their virtual neighbors with the new, digital problems we were all facing. These good people, with good impulses, did good: their projects filled an important need, and grew, and grew, and became structurally important to the digital world. What started off as "Our pal's project that we all pitch in on," became, "Our pal's important mission that we help with, but that also has paid staff and important stakeholders, which they oversee as 'benevolent dictator for life.'"

Which was fine. The people who kicked off these projects had nurtured them all the way from a napkin doodle to infrastructure. They understood them better than anyone else, had sacrificed much for them, and it made sense for them to be installed as stewards.

But what they did next, how they used their powers as "BFDLs," made a huge difference. Because we are all imperfect, we are all capable of rationalizing our way into bad choices, we are all riven with insecurities that can push us to do things we later regret. When our actions are checked – by our peers' social approval or approbation; by the need to keep our volunteers happy; by the possibility of a mass exodus of our users or a fork of our code – these imperfections are balanced by consequences.

Dictators aren't necessarily any more prone to these lapses in judgment than anyone else. Benevolent dictators actually exist, people who only retain power because they genuinely want to use that power for good. Those people aren't more likely to fly off the handle or talk themselves into bad places than you or me – but to be a dictator (benevolent or otherwise) is to exist without the consequences that prevent you from giving in to those impulses. Worse: if you are the dictator – again, benevolent or otherwise – of a big, structurally important company or nonprofit that millions of people rely on, the consequences of these lapses are extremely consequential.

This is how BDFL arrangements turn sour: by removing themselves from formal constraint, the people whose screwups matter the most end up with the fewest guardrails to prevent themselves from screwing up.

No wonder people who set out to do good, to help others find safe and satisfying digital homes online, find themselves feeling furious and beset. Given those feelings, can we really be surprised when "benevolent" dictators discover that they have sympathy for real-world autocrats whose core ethos is, "I know what needs to be done and I could do it, if only the rest of you would stop nagging me about petty bullshit that you just made up 10 minutes ago but now insist is the most important thing in the world?"

That all said, it's interesting to look at the process by which some BDFLs transitioned to community-run projects with checks and balances. I often think about how Wikipedia's BDFL, the self-avowed libertarian Jimmy Wales, decided (correctly, and to his everlasting credit), that the project he raised from a weird idea into a world-historic phenomenon should not be ruled over by one guy, not even him.

(Jimmy is one of those libertarians who believes that we don't need governments to make us be kind and take care of one another because he is kind and takes care of other people – see also John Gilmore and Penn Jillette:)

https://www.cracked.com/article_40871_penn-jillette-wants-to-talk-it-all-out.html

Jimmy's handover to the Wikimedia Foundation gives me hope for our other BDFLs. He's proof that you can find yourself in the hotseat without being so overwhelmed with personal grievance that you find yourself in sympathy with actual fascists, but rather, have the maturity and self-awareness to know that the reason people are demanding so much of you is that you have – deliberately and with great effort – created a situation in which you owe the world a superhuman degree of care and attention, and the only way to resolve that situation equitably and secure your own posterity is to share that power around, not demand that you be allowed to wield it without reproach.

[regressionschool]

JOBLESS & JUVENILE: A NEW FUTURE FOR THE UNEMPLOYED?

By Emily Dawson, Investigative Reporter

For decades, governments have struggled with rising unemployment. Now, in partnership with Pampers Corporation, a revolutionary solution has emerged—one that provides financial security, housing, and a structured daily routine for those out of work for extended periods.

The "Retraining & Relaxation Program" (RRP) is a bold new initiative that reimagines what it means to be unemployed. Rather than forcing job-seekers to endure endless applications, stress, and uncertainty, RRP offers them something better: a fresh start, free of adult burdens. Enrolled participants receive free housing, nutritious meals, and a basic income—but in exchange, they must embrace the Pampers lifestyle.

For some, it’s a dream come true. For others, it’s a nightmare.

"I Never Want to Grow Up Again!" – A Happy Little Student

At Sunny Steps Learning Center, one of the program's many Retraining Facilities, I meet Steve, 25, who has been enrolled in RRP for four months. The moment I step into the playroom, he rushes up to greet me, his Pampers crinkling loudly beneath his onesie as he bounces on his heels.

“Hi-hi, Miss Emily!” he chirps, his voice light and playful. “Didja come to play too?”

Steve, once a struggling software developer, no longer concerns himself with résumés, bills, or job interviews. Instead, his days are filled with storytime, snack breaks, and supervised play. He eagerly shows off his favorite toys, his plump diaper sagging slightly but still holding strong—a testament to Pampers’ renowned absorbency.

"I used to be sooo stressed all the time," he tells me, plopping onto a soft mat. "Always worried 'bout money, 'bout findin’ work. But now? I just get to be me! No worries, no hard stuff! Just nap, snack, and play!"

I ask if he ever thinks about returning to adulthood. He looks at me like I’ve suggested something completely absurd.

"Nooo way! Big-boy life was way too hard! I like my diapers, I like my nap times, and I LOVE snackies! Who’d wanna give that up?"

It’s difficult to argue with the enthusiasm in his voice, especially when he kicks his feet happily, completely unconcerned as his caretaker comes over to check his Pampers. The program has given him everything he needs—and taken away everything he doesn’t.

A Different Perspective: "I Don't Belong Here!"

Not everyone shares Steve’s enthusiasm. Dana, 29, is in the program as well, but she’s far from thrilled about it. She shifts uncomfortably on the bench where we meet for our interview, the thick pull-ups beneath her skirt crinkling softly with every movement.

"This is humiliating," she huffs, crossing her arms. "I had a career. I just hit a rough patch! How does that mean I should be treated like a preschooler?"

Unlike Steve, Dana is still classified as a “transition student”, meaning she hasn’t yet fully regressed. She is in the pull-up phase of the program—technically given some independence, but still under heavy supervision. She is required to ask permission for bathroom breaks, follow a strict bedtime, and participate in “learning activities” designed for early childhood development.

"I try to use the toilet whenever I can," she insists, glaring at the playroom around us. "But they’re always watching. They say ‘oopsies happen’ and that it’s okay to have accidents, but I don’t want to have accidents! I’m not a baby!"

Before I can respond, Dana suddenly tenses. A blush creeps up her face, and she quickly looks down, her hands clutching the bench. Seconds later, she gasps softly—a nearly inaudible whimper—as a warm, wet patch spreads across the front of her pull-up.

A nearby caretaker notices immediately. "Oh, Dana, honey," she coos, kneeling beside her. "That’s why we wear our special trainers, remember? Let’s get you all dry, sweetheart."

Dana's face burns with shame as she’s gently led away by the caretaker, a visible waddle in her step from the bulky, swollen pull-up sagging between her thighs.

"See? This is what I mean!" she cries, her voice cracking. "They’re MAKING me like this!"

But is she truly being "made" into anything? Or is she simply proving that some people, no matter how much they protest, aren’t quite as ready for adult responsibilities as they believe?

A Program with Results

As more participants enter the Retraining & Relaxation Program, the statistics speak for themselves. Over 97% of enrollees never return to the workforce, choosing instead to remain in the program permanently.

Psychologists point to reduced stress, structured care, and positive reinforcement as the key factors behind its success. Pampers’ high-quality, ultra-absorbent protection ensures that comfort and security are never a concern, allowing participants to focus solely on their retraining.

Despite some criticism, it’s clear that the RRP is achieving what traditional welfare programs never could—not just financial stability, but true, lasting contentment.

“Some people just aren’t built for the pressures of adult life,” says Dr. Amelia Brooks, a behavioral specialist working with the program. “And that’s okay. With the right care, they can live much happier, healthier lives without unnecessary stress.”

Perhaps the only question left is this: Is unemployment truly the problem? Or is adulthood itself?

(Sponsored in part by Pampers Corporation. Because some people were never meant to grow up.)

[businessadvisorrobert]

Why You Need an Online Classified Script for Your Startup

A part of the world looks at the second-hand market as economically sensible and environmentally friendly. However, this view differs in other parts of the world. 

After the technology evolution, places, where second-hand products are less in practice, have become regular practitioners. 

Currently, the second-hand market is in the booming phase with the technology assistance.  As the market opens endless opportunities and thriving potential resources, going with the online classified ads script is the best option. 

This article highlights why your business needs a classified market in all aspects. Let’s jump into the article and find insightful information. 

Market Value Of Online Classified Script

Classified markets have begun to compete with industries previously unimagined. Let's take a look at their growth figures!

This year, the digital ad market has reached $21.66 billion and is projected to grow to $23.85 billion by 2029, with an annual CAGR of 1.95%.

The number is interesting, right? Let’s see how you can take your business to this height.

Beneficial Factors To Look At In Online Classified Script Development  

Over time, it's crucial to find strategies that will drive you to the height of success. Let’s find out how you can find these elements in auto-classified scripts. Take a look at it! 

Expanding Your Audience Faster

In today's business landscape, having a strong online presence is essential, and a classified website script is a powerful tool for achieving this. With a solid online presence, you can attract a broad audience, including those in the global market. Success depends on understanding audience preferences and positioning your business as their top choice for shopping.

Online classified script business allows you to tap into a vast market, breaking through geographical boundaries. Global outreach is crucial in the current environment, enabling you to reach a large audience and boost productivity.

To reach this goal, you'll need robust features. The app offers support for multiple languages, currencies, geo-location, and more to effectively engage global users.

Cost-Effective Promotion Strategy

Many companies invest heavily in advertising to reach their audience. Traditionally, this involved relying on third parties, often requiring substantial financial outlays. However, the digital space offers a more affordable alternative through free promotional activities. Platforms like Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook allow you to advertise your business without any cost, making it a low-investment, high-return strategy.

These modern promotion methods are more advanced and effective than traditional approaches. Ever heard of built-in marketing? Features like reviews, ratings, comments, and shares naturally promote your business, creating an organic marketing effect.

For instance, if you are promoting your business with small businesses that offer items related to you, there is a high possibility that you can reach out to your audiences easily.   

To succeed, create a business image that resonates with your audience. This image is reflected in your logo, visuals, descriptions, and overall brand identity. Choose these elements carefully and implement them wisely!

Key Features of the User Panel

For an audience that's not tech-savvy, designing a user panel that makes navigating your platform a breeze is crucial. Here’s how you can achieve a seamless experience from start to finish:

   - Offer multiple login options so users can quickly sign up without hassle.

   - Implement advanced search features that help users easily find what they're looking for, like a car that meets their needs.

   -Once users have found their choice, make the booking process straightforward, with various payout options to choose from.

   - Ensure that the payment options are diverse and easy to use, so transactions are completed without any confusion.

   - The final step is receiving a confirmation, reassuring users that their order is successfully placed.

By incorporating these features, auto-classified scripts create an environment where users can shop effortlessly. Let’s dive into the tools that make this seamless experience possible!

Real-Time Notification And Inventory Management

The platform consistently keeps its inventory up-to-date, a critical task in the automotive industry. With the auto classified software, businesses can efficiently list their vehicles, ensuring that users always see the most current information.

The reason for maintaining real-time updates is to avoid advertising vehicles that have already been sold, which helps build trust between customers and sellers. This trust encourages repeat visits to the platform.

Notification enhances the platform’s user-friendliness by providing essential information without requiring users to open the app. Users can easily find the required updates of the platform via the notification option. Inventory management can complete tasks without hassle at a few tabs. The technology used in it creates a simple workflow. 

How can you uplift your business with these benefits? Let’s find out about its revenue factors! 

Monetization Tactics That Drive Business Results

Revenue is crucial for the long-term success of your business. Key income sources include commission fees, which are a major part of the platform’s earnings. Users and sellers can access the platform for free, while the platform makes money from transparent commission rates, boosting credibility. Another revenue stream is advertising, where allowing third-party ads on your platform generates passive income that helps with operational costs. Subscription fees are also important; users can opt for a quarterly plan, providing a steady revenue flow and simplifying payments. Additionally, in-app purchases offer users extra features for a fee, which can significantly boost revenue, though it’s important to use this strategy judiciously to avoid overwhelming users.

Bottom Line, 

In the digital landscape, to stand ahead in the market, uniqueness is key. How do you get the optimal traits for your business? 

First, you find the right team that has previous experience and is strong in the field. If you feel like moving to the next step, head to gathering all the necessary things like features, functionalities, technologies, and other factors. 

You can complete these processes simply without using your savvy insight. Read my blog on the development process of the online classified ad script.

[mariacallous]

In the span of just weeks, the U.S. government has experienced what may be the most consequential security breach in its history—not through a sophisticated cyberattack or an act of foreign espionage, but through official orders by a billionaire with a poorly defined government role. And the implications for national security are profound.

First, it was reported that people associated with the newly created Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) had accessed the U.S. Treasury computer system, giving them the ability to collect data on and potentially control the department’s roughly $5.45 trillion in annual federal payments.

Then, we learned that uncleared DOGE personnel had gained access to classified data from the U.S. Agency for International Development, possibly copying it onto their own systems. Next, the Office of Personnel Management—which holds detailed personal data on millions of federal employees, including those with security clearances—was compromised. After that, Medicaid and Medicare records were compromised.

Meanwhile, only partially redacted names of CIA employees were sent over an unclassified email account. DOGE personnel are also reported to be feeding Education Department data into artificial intelligence software, and they have also started working at the Department of Energy.

This story is moving very fast. On Feb. 8, a federal judge blocked the DOGE team from accessing the Treasury Department systems any further. But given that DOGE workers have already copied data and possibly installed and modified software, it’s unclear how this fixes anything.

In any case, breaches of other critical government systems are likely to follow unless federal employees stand firm on the protocols protecting national security.

The systems that DOGE is accessing are not esoteric pieces of our nation’s infrastructure—they are the sinews of government.

For example, the Treasury Department systems contain the technical blueprints for how the federal government moves money, while the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) network contains information on who and what organizations the government employs and contracts with.

What makes this situation unprecedented isn’t just the scope, but also the method of attack. Foreign adversaries typically spend years attempting to penetrate government systems such as these, using stealth to avoid being seen and carefully hiding any tells or tracks. The Chinese government’s 2015 breach of OPM was a significant U.S. security failure, and it illustrated how personnel data could be used to identify intelligence officers and compromise national security.

In this case, external operators with limited experience and minimal oversight are doing their work in plain sight and under massive public scrutiny: gaining the highest levels of administrative access and making changes to the United States’ most sensitive networks, potentially introducing new security vulnerabilities in the process.

But the most alarming aspect isn’t just the access being granted. It’s the systematic dismantling of security measures that would detect and prevent misuse—including standard incident response protocols, auditing, and change-tracking mechanisms—by removing the career officials in charge of those security measures and replacing them with inexperienced operators.

The Treasury’s computer systems have such an impact on national security that they were designed with the same principle that guides nuclear launch protocols: No single person should have unlimited power. Just as launching a nuclear missile requires two separate officers turning their keys simultaneously, making changes to critical financial systems traditionally requires multiple authorized personnel working in concert.

This approach, known as “separation of duties,” isn’t just bureaucratic red tape; it’s a fundamental security principle as old as banking itself. When your local bank processes a large transfer, it requires two different employees to verify the transaction. When a company issues a major financial report, separate teams must review and approve it. These aren’t just formalities—they’re essential safeguards against corruption and error.

These measures have been bypassed or ignored. It’s as if someone found a way to rob Fort Knox by simply declaring that the new official policy is to fire all the guards and allow unescorted visits to the vault.

The implications for national security are staggering. Sen. Ron Wyden said his office had learned that the attackers gained privileges that allow them to modify core programs in Treasury Department computers that verify federal payments, access encrypted keys that secure financial transactions, and alter audit logs that record system changes. Over at OPM, reports indicate that individuals associated with DOGE connected an unauthorized server into the network. They are also reportedly training AI software on all of this sensitive data.

This is much more critical than the initial unauthorized access. These new servers have unknown capabilities and configurations, and there’s no evidence that this new code has gone through any rigorous security testing protocols. The AIs being trained are certainly not secure enough for this kind of data. All are ideal targets for any adversary, foreign or domestic, also seeking access to federal data.

There’s a reason why every modification—hardware or software—to these systems goes through a complex planning process and includes sophisticated access-control mechanisms. The national security crisis is that these systems are now much more vulnerable to dangerous attacks at the same time that the legitimate system administrators trained to protect them have been locked out.

By modifying core systems, the attackers have not only compromised current operations, but have also left behind vulnerabilities that could be exploited in future attacks—giving adversaries such as Russia and China an unprecedented opportunity. These countries have long targeted these systems. And they don’t just want to gather intelligence—they also want to understand how to disrupt these systems in a crisis.

Now, the technical details of how these systems operate, their security protocols, and their vulnerabilities are now potentially exposed to unknown parties without any of the usual safeguards. Instead of having to breach heavily fortified digital walls, these parties  can simply walk through doors that are being propped open—and then erase evidence of their actions.

The security implications span three critical areas.

First, system manipulation: External operators can now modify operations while also altering audit trails that would track their changes. Second, data exposure: Beyond accessing personal information and transaction records, these operators can copy entire system architectures and security configurations—in one case, the technical blueprint of the country’s federal payment infrastructure. Third, and most critically, is the issue of system control: These operators can alter core systems and authentication mechanisms while disabling the very tools designed to detect such changes. This is more than modifying operations; it is modifying the infrastructure that those operations use.

To address these vulnerabilities, three immediate steps are essential. First, unauthorized access must be revoked and proper authentication protocols restored. Next, comprehensive system monitoring and change management must be reinstated—which, given the difficulty of cleaning a compromised system, will likely require a complete system reset. Finally, thorough audits must be conducted of all system changes made during this period.

This is beyond politics—this is a matter of national security. Foreign national intelligence organizations will be quick to take advantage of both the chaos and the new insecurities to steal U.S. data and install backdoors to allow for future access.

Each day of continued unrestricted access makes the eventual recovery more difficult and increases the risk of irreversible damage to these critical systems. While the full impact may take time to assess, these steps represent the minimum necessary actions to begin restoring system integrity and security protocols.

Assuming that anyone in the government still cares.

[paigesbasketball]

Echos of The Fallen

Chapter 3: Crimson Heist Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader Warnings: A little firting but thats it

September 30th - 7:45 AM - G.U.N. Headquarters

The remnants of the explosion still hung in the air, the scent of charred metal and burnt rubber clinging to Shadow’s uniform as he stepped into the war room. The monitors on the walls flickered with the latest updates—feeds from the wreckage site, reports from analysts trying to piece together what little information they had. The entire building seemed to hum with tension, the weight of last night’s failure pressing down on everyone inside.

Rouge was already seated at the long metal table, idly examining her nails as she waited for him. Omega stood nearby, his mechanical frame motionless save for the occasional whir of servos adjusting his position. The moment Shadow entered, Rouge glanced up, arching a perfectly sculpted brow.

“Well, well,” she mused, tilting her head. “You look like hell.”

Shadow ignored her, dropping into the chair across from her and flicking open the latest intel file. “We lost her.” His voice was clipped, edged with irritation.

“No kidding.” Rouge smirked, leaning forward. “You let a woman get the best of you. Now that’s a first.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes narrowed. “She was ten steps ahead. The explosion was a diversion, and we took the bait.” His fingers drummed against the table, betraying his frustration. “She’s not just some rogue mercenary. She knows how we operate.”

Omega’s monotone voice rumbled to life. “RECOMMENDATION: TERMINATION OF TARGET UPON IDENTIFICATION.”

Rouge scoffed. “So dramatic. We don’t even know who she really is yet. ‘Danny’s wife’ doesn’t exactly lead us anywhere.”

Shadow turned the file toward her. “She’s connected to Cipher. That’s all we need to know.”

Rouge’s expression darkened slightly at the mention of the name. “So, Cipher’s making moves again. Last time he popped up, it took half of G.U.N.’s intelligence division to track down just one of his hideouts. If she’s working with him, she’s dangerous.”

“Obviously.” Shadow’s voice was tight. “The question is why. What does Cipher want with G.U.N.’s classified weapons project?”

Rouge shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Power? Leverage? Or maybe he’s just bored. But something tells me your little rooftop admirer is more than just an errand girl.”

Shadow frowned. “What do you mean?”

Rouge’s smirk returned, playful and knowing. “She could’ve killed you last night, but she didn’t.”

Shadow remained silent, his jaw tightening. He had considered that already. The explosion had been designed to wound, to scatter forces, not to kill. If she had truly wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have left it to chance.

Omega interrupted the thought. “QUERY: NEXT COURSE OF ACTION?”

Shadow pushed the file toward the center of the table. “We find her. We stop her. No more games.”

September 30th - 10:12 PM - Underground Safehouse

The glow of multiple monitors bathed the dimly lit room in a soft blue hue, casting flickering shadows against the exposed concrete walls. The safehouse was tucked beneath the remnants of an abandoned subway station, far from prying eyes.

I sat in front of the main screen, scanning through lines of encrypted data as Zero worked his magic on the G.U.N. servers. The room was filled with the soft clacking of keys, the occasional beeping of software processes running in the background. Scar stood near the entrance, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between me and the screens.

“G.U.N. is scrambling,” Zero announced, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “They’ve got teams sweeping the city, but they’re running in circles.”

Scar smirked. “Shadow must be pissed.”

I didn’t react, my eyes still focused on the data. “Let him be. It won’t change anything.”

Zero’s hands stilled for a moment, his brow furrowing. “Hold up... This is new.”

I leaned forward. “What?”

He pulled up a series of documents, most of them redacted, but one detail stood out. A shipment manifest. Destination: G.U.N. Research Facility - Grid Sector Seven. Contents: Prototype X-09.

Scar whistled lowly. “Well, that sounds interesting.”

I exhaled slowly, my mind racing. “That’s what Carson was talking about.”

Zero nodded. “Whatever X-09 is, they’re keeping it locked down tight. I can't seem to find information on it. If G.U.N. wants it then that just makes it automatically bad.”

I tapped my fingers against my arm, calculating the next steps. “Then we move first. we break into the G.U.N. bank and steal some of their assets so they will be unable to fund this project anymore"

Scar raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? If we intercept, we’ll be putting ourselves directly in Shadow’s path.”

A part of me hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. Then I pushed the thought aside. “Let him come. this time he won't know I know his turf.”

Zero cracked his knuckles, already preparing the next phase of the operation. “Then let’s get to work.”

Viper stood up, stretching her arms. "Alright, I’m grabbing food. Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone."

She slammed the door behind her, making the walls shake slightly. Nova immediately huffed, turning toward the door with an irritated glare. "Can you not? I’m working on an experiment!"

Viper’s voice called from the hallway, "Oh, I’m sorry, Princess! Didn’t mean to disrupt your evil genius time."

Nova scoffed. "At least I actually use my brain."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Guys, let’s be real. Unless you’re both on your period, let’s not bicker like this."

Nova shot me a glare, and Viper's laughter echoed from down the hall. "You wish, sweetheart!"

I smirked but turned back to the screens, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. The banter was familiar, almost comforting, but the weight of our situation pressed heavy on my mind. G.U.N. was moving fast, and we didn’t have time to waste.

Zero leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply. "You really think we can pull this off?"

I didn’t answer right away, my eyes scanning over the shipment details. The security routes, the escort patterns—it was tight, but not impenetrable.

"We don’t have a choice," I finally said. "I do not trust them to have that weapon"

Scar crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "And what happens when Shadow shows up?"

A beat of silence filled the room. That was the real problem. Shadow wasn’t like the grunts G.U.N. usually sent after us. He didn’t make mistakes. He didn’t let people slip through his fingers twice.

I exhaled. "Then we adapt."

The tension settled in the air, thick and unspoken. This wasn’t just another job—this was a battle waiting to happen.

The door creaked open again, and Viper strolled back in, holding a bag of takeout. "Alright, nerds, eat up. If we’re gonna risk our lives in forty-eight hours, you might as well not do it on an empty stomach."

Nova snatched the bag from her hands. "Finally, you’re useful for something."

Viper smirked. "Careful, Princess. Keep talking like that, and I might ‘accidentally’ forget your order next time."

As they bickered, I stared at the screens, the blueprint of the G.U.N. transport route flashing in front of me. This was it. The moment we made our move, there was no turning back.

I clenched my jaw, determination settling in.

We had forty-eight hours to pull off the impossible.

And failure wasn’t an option.

1:45 AM – G.U.N. Financial Holdings, Downtown

Everything had been going smoothly—too smoothly. Scar and I had just finished loading the last of the stolen assets into our bags when a sharp, high-pitched beep cut through the silence.

"Tell me that wasn’t you," Scar muttered.

I looked down at my wrist device, where a flashing red warning glowed across the screen. Silent alarm triggered.

"Shit," I hissed. "We need to move—now."

We bolted for the exit, weaving through the dimly lit corridors of the underground vault. But as we reached the stairwell, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the space. Heavy. Coordinated. Armed.

Scar gritted her teeth. "They’re fast."

"They’re G.U.N.," I shot back. "Of course they are."

We reached the main hall just as the security doors slammed shut behind us. A single figure stepped through the haze of flashing red lights. Black and red. Sharp crimson eyes locked onto mine.

Shadow.

Behind him, his team—Rouge and Omega—stood ready, blocking the only other exit.

"You really thought you could just waltz in and take what you wanted?" Shadow’s voice was low, measured, but there was an edge of irritation in it. "You’re getting sloppy."

Scar and I exchanged glances before moving in opposite directions. Shadow’s eyes flicked between us, assessing. Calculating.

"Take them," he ordered.

Rouge lunged for Scar while Omega charged forward, aiming straight for me. I dodged, ducking behind a pillar as his massive arm smashed through it like it was paper.

As Omega charged toward me, I tried to dodge his powerful swing again, but this time I had a better idea.

"Geez, Omega, you ever think about toning it down?" I taunted, hoping to get under his circuits. He growled in response, tightening his grip.

"NEGATIVE," Omega boomed, his voice full of pure mechanical rage. "FULL DESTRUCTION MODE ENGAGED."

I couldn’t avoid his next hit in time, so I took a deep breath, waiting for the right moment. Omega swung harder, and this time, his fist collided with a wall near Rouge, sending debris flying everywhere.

A vulnerable moment.

Before he could adjust, I whipped out a small device from my belt. With a quick motion, I slapped it onto Omega's back. The device activated with a small electric buzz, sending a surge of energy into his system, causing his circuits to short-circuit and his movements to freeze.

Omega's massive frame shuddered, and his body froze in place. The once-booming voice became erratic. "ERROR. SYSTEM MALFUNCTION..."

I gave a sly grin. "Guess I’ll have to remind you how to play nice."

I turned just in time to see Shadow coming for me. Fast. I barely managed to block his first strike, but the sheer force sent me skidding back. He was relentless, each blow more precise than the last.

He feinted left before sweeping my legs out from under me. Before I could react, I was flat on my back, Shadow pinning me down, one knee pressing into my ribs, his hand gripping my wrist.

I struggled, but he didn’t budge. "Give it up," he said. "You’re done."

My mind raced. I needed a distraction. Something to throw him off—just for a second.

I locked eyes with him, smirking. "You gonna kiss me or something, handsome?"

Shadow’s expression flickered. Just for a second. A flash of confusion.

That was all I needed.

I drove my knee into his stomach, making him grunt in surprise. Using the momentum, I twisted us around, grabbing a pair of cuffs from my belt. Before he could recover, I snapped them around his wrist and slammed the other end to a reinforced pipe. The cuffs magnetized instantly, locking him in place.

His eyes widened slightly as he tested the restraints.

I grinned. "Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to be so easy to trap."

Shadow glared at me, but there was the faintest trace of pink on his face.

Scar broke free from Rouge’s grip, sprinting toward me. "We need to go!"

I pulled a smoke bomb from my belt, slamming it against the ground. Thick clouds engulfed the room, obscuring everything.

"See you around, handsome," I teased, before grabbing Scar’s wrist and making a break for the exit.

We darted through the emergency hatch we had scoped out earlier, leaving chaos in our wake. The sound of Shadow yanking at the cuffs and Omega’s booming voice echoed behind us, but we were already gone, disappearing into the night.

2:30 AM – Warehouse Hideout

We crashed through the doors, breathless, adrenaline still surging through our veins.

Zero looked up from his laptop. "I take it things didn’t go as planned?"

Scar dropped her bag onto the table, grinning. "Oh, it went great. Got the goods, fought Shadow, and someone got a little flirty mid-fight."

I rolled my eyes, slumping into a chair. "It was a tactical distraction."

Scar snorted. "Sure it was."

Viper raised an eyebrow. "Wait—you flirted with Shadow?"

Nova nearly choked on her drink. "Hold on, back up. Shadow the Hedgehog?"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I’m going to regret this later."

Scar smirked, kicking her feet up onto the table. "Maybe. But for now? Totally worth it."

3:00 AM – G.U.N. Financial Holdings, Downtown

Shadow's POV

The smoke was thick, the echoes of their escape still ringing in my ears. I yanked futilely at the cuffs, feeling the cold metal dig into my wrist. They were designed to hold even the strongest, and for once, it seemed they might have me. But I didn’t have time to waste on my restraints. I had a bigger problem on my hands.

Omega was down, his system glitching from whatever trick that woman had pulled on him. He was muttering about malfunctions as Rouge approached me, her footsteps sharp and mocking.

“Well, that was quite the show, Shadow,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to ignore the frustration bubbling inside me. “Save it, Rouge.”

She leaned in closer, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Not so tough when you're distracted, huh? You got all flustered with her little stunt. Was that... flirtation? You know, I’ve seen you fight harder. Looks like someone’s got a soft spot.”

I could feel my pulse spike, irritation mixing with something I couldn’t quite place. "This isn't the time for your games."

Rouge raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Oh, I’m not joking. You practically let her tie you up. Seems like you let your guard down for something more than just the mission."

I grit my teeth, pushing back the surge of heat in my chest. “She got lucky. That’s all.”

But Rouge wasn’t done. “Sure, sure. I mean, she’s pretty good, I’ll give her that. Had to be quick thinking to get you like that.” Her eyes twinkled as she surveyed the room, her gaze shifting from me to Omega’s malfunctioning state. "But the real question is—how did she even know how to get past all the security systems? Couldn’t have been just luck."

A thought clicked into place, something I hadn’t fully processed in the heat of the moment. The woman’s movements, the way she seemed to be one step ahead, even the tech on her person—it all seemed too familiar. My mind whirred.

“Wait...” I muttered, looking toward Rouge. “She... she knew too much about our systems. She moved like someone who’d been trained to break into places like this.”

Rouge leaned against a wall, watching me. “You think she was G.U.N. trained?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Impossible,” I muttered under my breath, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Her style, her tactics—everything about her reeked of G.U.N. precision, just twisted in a way I hadn’t expected.

“I don’t know, Shadow,” Rouge said, her voice softer now, more serious. “Maybe we should start asking the right questions. Why would someone like her target a G.U.N. facility... and why are we just now seeing her face?”

I clenched my fists, the truth dawning on me. “We’re missing something. Whoever she is, she’s connected to G.U.N. in ways we don’t understand yet.”

Rouge gave me a knowing look, her smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You think this is the beginning of something bigger?”

I nodded, my gaze shifting back to where Scar and the woman had vanished. “It’s more than just a heist. It’s personal now.”

Guys be honest im trying to find a good length for the chapters i believe this is fine but please let me know

- Caty

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Vittoria Elliott at Wired:

Elon Musk’s takeover of federal government infrastructure is ongoing, and at the center of things is a coterie of engineers who are barely out of—and in at least one case, purportedly still in—college. Most have connections to Musk and at least two have connections to Musk’s longtime associate Peter Thiel, a cofounder and chairman of the analytics firm and government contractor Palantir who has long expressed opposition to democracy. WIRED has identified six young men—all apparently between the ages of 19 and 24, according to public databases, their online presences, and other records—who have little to no government experience and are now playing critical roles in Musk’s so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) project, tasked by executive order with “modernizing Federal technology and software to maximize governmental efficiency and productivity.” The engineers all hold nebulous job titles within DOGE, and at least one appears to be working as a volunteer. The engineers are Akash Bobba, Edward Coristine, Luke Farritor, Gautier Cole Killian, Gavin Kliger, and Ethan Shaotran. None have responded to requests for comment from WIRED. Representatives from OPM, GSA, and DOGE did not respond to requests for comment. Already, Musk’s lackeys have taken control of the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) and General Services Administration (GSA), and have gained access to the Treasury Department’s payment system, potentially allowing him access to a vast range of sensitive information about tens of millions of citizens, businesses, and more. On Sunday, CNN reported that DOGE personnel attempted to improperly access classified information and security systems at the US Agency for International Development (USAID), and that top USAID security officials who thwarted the attempt were subsequently put on leave. The AP reported that DOGE personnel had indeed accessed classified material. “What we're seeing is unprecedented in that you have these actors who are not really public officials gaining access to the most sensitive data in government,” says Don Moynihan, a professor of public policy at the University of Michigan. “We really have very little eyes on what's going on. Congress has no ability to really intervene and monitor what's happening because these aren't really accountable public officials. So this feels like a hostile takeover of the machinery of governments by the richest man in the world.”

[...] “To the extent these individuals are exercising what would otherwise be relatively significant managerial control over two very large agencies that deal with very complex topics,” says Nick Bednar, a professor at University of Minnesota’s school of law, “it is very unlikely they have the expertise to understand either the law or the administrative needs that surround these agencies.” Sources tell WIRED that Bobba, Coristine, Farritor, and Shaotran all currently have working GSA emails and A-suite level clearance at the GSA, which means that they work out of the agency’s top floor and have access to all physical spaces and IT systems, according a source with knowledge of the GSA’s clearance protocols. The source, who spoke to WIRED on the condition of anonymity because they fear retaliation, says they worry that the new teams could bypass the regular security clearance protocols to access the agency’s sensitive compartmented information facility (SCIF), as the Trump administration has already granted temporary security clearances to unvetted people. This is in addition to Coristine and Bobba being listed as “experts” working at OPM. Bednar says that while staff can be loaned out between agencies for special projects or to work on issues that might cross agency lines, it’s not exactly common practice.

WIRED’s report on the 6 college-aged men between 19 and 24 that are shaping up DOGE in aiding and abetting in co-”President” Elon Musk’s technofascist takeover.

[aston-axo]

Niki Lauda and James Hunt — Friday 18th July 1975 Silverstone - Practice Runs for the Grand Prix

ATV Sports Reporter Gary Newbon interviews championship leader, Niki Lauda from Austria and Britain's James Hunt, about the race and the new car they will soon be driving. In 1975 James Hunt was driving for Hesketh Racing and Lauda was driving for Scuderia Ferrari.

In the race, Niki Lauda would hold fourth place off the start, but soon a heavy shower brought a flurry of tyre changes. A wheel had not been fastened when Niki was released and fell off within 20 meters, resulting in a scramble to reattach it. He stopped again a lap later for it to be tightened properly, and rejoined a lap down.

As the track dried, he showed blistering speed: four seconds a lap faster than the rest, but then came another deluge and the field was decimated by a series of aquaplaning shunts and the race red-flagged. The official results announced shortly afterwards were based on a count-back lap, which meant that Niki was classified eighth despite being third across the line. Ferrari protested, but without result.

James hunt would make it to the final lap without major incident, before retiring along with many other drivers. His final position: fourth, was unaffected.

A miserable race for the both of them, all in all.

[Comparisons between versions and editors notes are below the cut.]

Clipped and Cropped • Colour Corrected • Removed Colour Cast • Upscaled with Artemis • Denoised • Sharpened and Enhanced • Recovered Original Detail • Added Noise and Film Grain • 60fps Frame Interpolation • Edited Gamma and Exposure • Stabilised • Audio Cleaned • Manual Cleaning of Degraded Film

• While the lower logo is a lost cause, I had a real good go at cleaning up the upper logo. Despite it being easy to remove in James' zoom sections, where it hovered and moved over the banner made the erasure too disruptive and time intensive to clean up in whole.

• I did all the film cleaning manually, therefore it's very likely I missed out on some damage. I got all the major stuff though.

• At the beginning, for god knows what reason, the upscaler has a hissy fit and throws up coloured blocks. Incredibly annoying, but I couldn't find a way to fix it.

• The video is dark at the start due to cloud cover, and it's more noticeable without the colour cast, there's better lighting by the end.

• There's much more to the original video: cars practising at the track, a later interview by Niki in 1977, and a separate one of James the same year. I cut those, so I could focus on this interview, and because the film degradation of the practice runs is noticeably severe. But, if people are interested, I'm very happy to also tidy those.

• I'm here nor there on the cleaned up audio. I wish there was an easy software where I could more manually tune it.

• I snipped off like a second of the end because the degradation got so bad it was easier just to cut it since James had finished talking by that point anyway.

Despite all this, please enjoy.

[tutorialdrawix]

Working on a Website!

Hey, everyone! I've been given the thought of making a website for the blog. So all the resources that I've been listing and classifying can be found easily by pressing the button.

New Things:

1. Visibility

I can find more resources for you so you can find other blogs that love to share this knowledge and help you improve as an artist.

2. Organization

Easier to find the resources in your markers on Google. Even when I needed to use this post for a project, I had to search by the tag and find the right now I need in that moment.

3. New Sections

New sections can be created for example: Websites or Blogs about how to use Illustrator, Photoshop, After Effects, Blender 3d... Others!

Because there are lots of people who know these tricks to learn and use that kind of software.

4. Donations

Also, I've been considering that I've been doing a lot of work to make this blog for the last few years. And especially when I've been doing this last post with the resources while I was with the job I keep doing, my personal life matters, and my art career.

So I'm really saying that you would send donations

like 1/2$ in my Ko-fi. Would be really kind of you.

Because I know that all of you no matter that you like Art as a lifestyle, job career even as a hobby. These kinds of tools have to be easy to find and you can improve as artists.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: At the Hard Deck, Bradley learns something about the origins of your friendship with Cam that leaves him feeling out of sorts. You call him out on his behavior and reassure him that he's always more than enough for you. Then he takes you away for a Valentine's trip, and he can finally surprise you with something unique.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley thought he was hilarious with the way he refused to tell you where you and he were going for the night on Friday. He wouldn't even tell you how you were getting there. All he said every time you asked was, "Just pack a bag and find out."

"Infuriating," you whispered to yourself at work on Thursday. When you heard footsteps coming up behind you in the hallway, you turned to see Jake rushing your way. "Seriously? Don't you ever work?"

"Come on, Angel," he whined. "I'm gonna ask her out. I just need one more shot at talking to her."

You sighed and said, "Fine. Come on. We could actually use your help."

A few minutes later, Jake looked absolutely delighted as Cat had him sit down on the stool next to hers. "Ready?" she asked him. "There are a lot of questions."

"I'm ready," he replied, eyes glued to her face as she opened the aviation survey document on her computer. It wasn't like this needed to be completed today. The software was still in the testing stage. But you knew this would be a good excuse to keep Jake in the lab for a little while and let him engage with Cat.

"Name, age, rank and aircraft. Please," she asked him. You tried to sit quietly and work further down the counter, but you were half focused on them. 

"Jacob C. Seresin. Thirty three. Lieutenant. F/A-18." His voice was calm and even as he answered her, but you could see his leg bouncing a little bit. He was so smitten it was absolutely ridiculous. 

"What does the C stand for?" she asked, entering his information.

"That's classified," he told her with a smirk.

She turned to look at him with a smirk of her own. "Your full name is Jacob Classified Seresin?"

You had to press your lips together as Jake started laughing. "Shoulda thought that one through a little better," he drawled with a blush. "It actually stands for Christopher." 

"Where are you from, Lieutenant Classified?" she asked, and he leaned in to look at her screen. 

"Is that actually a question?"

"No," she said softly. "I was just curious about your accent."

Jake's voice sounded smug as hell as he said, "It's not an accent, Lieutenant Coleman. It's a drawl." And then you were forced to listen to their flirtation mixed in with the real survey questions for the better part of an hour. 

When Cat was finally done gathering information about Jake's flight history, you were surprised she didn't also have his phone number. "Thanks for your help," she told him as they both stood. 

"Anytime, Lieutenant," Jake replied. And when he walked past you, he whispered, "I owe you one, Angel."

Once he was gone, you stared at Cat until she looked at you. "If you're interested in big, strong aviators, all you have to do is ask," you told her. "I think he'd happily go out with you."

She scoffed and waved you off. "He's just fun to flirt with a tiny bit. Absolutely none of that was serious." 

"Speak for yourself," you muttered.

"Besides, he would never go for a woman like me. At least not for more than a date or two. Maybe a long weekend, if you catch my drift. And after my ex husband, I'm done playing games. Like I said, Lieutenant Seresin is nice to look at, but under no circumstances will I touch."

"Never?" you asked softly.

Cat planted her hand on the counter and leaned toward you. "He gets around, Lieutenant Commander. Women on base brag about it. And I've seen how he is at the bar. Just surrounded at all times."

Once again, you didn't know how to respond.

"But your friend, Cam?" she asked, giving you a pointed look. "He seems sweet."

You remained silent. Cat was beautiful. If she wanted to go out with Jake, she could go out with Jake. If she wanted to go out with Cam, she could go out with Cam. She could probably get pretty much any guy to ask her out if she wanted to. But if she was just going to flirt with Jake, because she thought it was no big deal, then Jake might end up getting hurt in the process if she moved on with someone else. 

And then your suspicions started to come true. When you went down to eat lunch with Bradley at noon, you saw Cat and Jake at a small table together. So his reputation was terrible, but not so bad that she didn't want to keep flirting? You sat with your head in your hands until Bradley and Nat joined you.

"What's wrong?" Nat asked, taking the seat across from you. "And where's Jake? He told me he was eating with us."

"He's over there," you said, nodding your head in his direction where he was sitting with Cat. "And she's flirting with him."

"Isn't that good?" Bradley asked, dropping down into the seat next to you. 

"No," you groaned. "She likes Cam. She thinks Jake is a womanizer who would never be interested in her. She thinks this is just some harmless flirting."

"Oof, he's about to get shot down isn't he?" Nat asked, and now all there of you were watching across the cafeteria as Cat and Jake smiled at each other. Then Jake leaned in a little closer, and Cat bit her lip. 

"Oh no," you whispered, reaching for Bradley's hand as your heart pounded. "Maybe he is a bit of a womanizer?" you asked. "I've seen that look on his face before. He's asking her out."

Bradley laced his fingers with yours. "He's not doing that kind of thing anymore," he told you and Nat. "He seems to be ready to settle down in a relationship. Been talking about it for months. Oh no, there he goes."

Nat gasped as Jake stroked the back of Cat's hand with his thumb. Her smile faltered and she kind of shrugged and shook her head. Even though you couldn't hear them, you had a pretty good idea of how the conversation was going. Cat's hand slid away from his, and soon she was standing to leave.

"Yikes," Nat whispered as the three of you scrambled to make it appear as though you hadn't been watching Jake get turned down. "That was so surreal. Looked exactly like the day you asked your wife out and she told you no," she added to Bradley, trying not to laugh now. "Remember that, Soul Sister?"

Bradley placed a loud, sloppy kiss on your cheek and said, "She came around eventually. One kiss and she was begging me to take her on a date."

You rolled your eyes. "I would love to dispute that, but it's actually the truth."

"Hey, guys," Jake said, gingerly sitting down next to Nat. His face was completely neutral, and his voice was even. But you could tell he was upset. 

"Hangman," Bradley grunted. And then he and Nat filled up the silence before it became too much while you picked at your food. And Jake just sat quietly. 

--------------------------

"Hard Deck night, Baby Girl," Bradley reminded you when you walked inside after work. 

You were tired, and you didn't really feel like going out. The bar would be packed, just like it was every Thursday night, and you were starting to get crampy, which meant your period was coming. "You don't want to stay in?" you asked, pouting up at him. "We could take a bath together."

Bradley ran his thumb along your pouty lips. "We can stay in if you want to, Sweetheart. Let me text Nat and tell her."

Then you kissed his thumb and said, "No, we can go. But maybe we can leave early. I'm exhausted."

Famous last words. At ten o'clock, you were kind of drunk, Bradley's hands were all over you, and Cat was waving you up to the bar. "I'll be right back, Roo," you told him, slipping away before he could keep you with him. Bradley watched you chatting with you coworker, happy you seemed to be getting along with her now. 

"I gotta know, man. How do you grow such a good mustache?"

Bradley turned just in time for Cam to try to lean against the edge of the pool table, miss completely and nealy land on his face. Shit, he was as at least as drunk as you were. 

"Genetics," Bradley said, thinking of nearly every damn photo he had of Goose sporting the same facial hair. Cam had a bit of a baby face, and the idea of him with a mustache was almost laughable. 

Then you walked back over in a state of annoyance. "Oh good, you're here," you said to Cam. "Mr. Popularity."

"What do you mean?" he asked, stroking his bare upper lip. 

"You know my coworker Cat? She just told me Jake asked her out, but that she'd rather go out with you."

Cam blinked a few times and then burst into laughter, leaning on Bradley while he hooted. "That's such a funny joke!"

"I'm serious! Roo, tell him I'm serious."

"She's serious," Bradley said, sipping his beer and trying not to get involved in this conversation. 

"Nobody would pick me over that guy," Cam replied, pointing to Jake. "He's fucking ripped! And his hair is always perfect. And he can do that thing with his mouth and the toothpicks!"

You started laughing and said, "I tried to tell Cat you're nothing special."

"Wow," Cam said, feigning offense, "you're the worst friend ever. Where's Maria?"

"Wait," you said, still laughing while you grabbed his hand. "Just because your repertoire of talents did nothing for me doesn't mean you're not as good as Jake!"

Bradley choked on his beer, remembering what he had overheard you say to Jake. "I'm sorry. What?"

You both turned to look at him, and Cam's cheeks were turning pink. 

"The two of you hooked up?" Bradley asked, wondering why this was something he'd only been hearing about recently. Cam slowly backed away from him, suddenly looking like he was afraid Bradley might hit him. And that's when Bradley realized that his tone definitely sounded a little threatening, but he couldn't take it back now.

"It was ten years ago!" Cam quickly supplied, taking a step to his left once he realized he was standing right next to you. 

"Didn't I tell you this, Roo?" you asked, still smiling at Bradley as you cocked your head to the side. 

"No. Never," he replied, annoyed at himself for being annoyed about this. It clearly didn't matter at all. It had nothing to do with your marriage. But Cam was the same age as you, and in many ways he was probably well suited for you. 

"There's literally nothing to tell," Cam insisted.

"Yeah," you agreed. "It didn't mean anything. We were twenty one. It didn't work for either of us, so we stopped what we were doing and decided to just be friends. Because Cam's moves were decidedly terrible at that age."

"God, you're so annoying," Cam told you with a grin. "You think you had moves? You did not. All you had back then was nice tits."

"Jesus," Bradley growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Because even though this happened ten years ago, suddenly he was wondering about all the details. 

"There was no penetration," you said casually.

"No penetration of any kind," Cam confirmed. 

"Then what was there?" Bradley asked as you laced your fingers with his.

"Wait, do fingers count?" Cam asked you, scratching his head. "No, fingers don't count, right? Whatever, all I did was feel her up."

"I wasn't good," you added. "Just friends after that."

"Yep," Cam confirmed, giving Bradley some side eye. "She likes big guys. Muscular ones. Mustaches. Which is exactly why nobody who turned down Jake Seresin would say yes to me."

You rolled your eyes and said, "That's so not true."

Bradley wanted all of the details and none of them at the same time as he pulled you a little closer. But then Cam handed you his drink and said, "Really? Watch this."

"Oh no," you muttered, gasping and clinging to Bradley as Cam walked away.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you ever tell me you and Cam messed around? I hate being blindsided by this shit. You hang out with him all the time."

But you weren't listening to him. You weren't even looking at him. Cam was walking confidently over to Cat, and suddenly he was leaning against the bar next to her, occasionally glancing this way. After a moment, Cat looked delighted, and Cam looked completely shocked. 

"He asked her out!" you moaned, burying your face against Bradley's chest. "Poor Jake!"

When Bradley's eyes found Jake, he was glaring daggers from the dartboard over toward Cam and Cat. "Oh, shit," he muttered, wrapping his arm a little tighter around you. "This is a fucking disaster."

"It really is," you whispered.

-------------------------

Jake was upset. You could see it on his face. And now Cam looked concerned. When you tried to talk to him, all he said was, "Apparently I have a date on Saturday night."

And before Cat left the bar for the night, she had a smile on her face as she came over to you and Bradley. "Any idea where I might be able to find a good babysitter for Saturday evening?"

"Babysitter?" Bradley asked her, and you couldn't help but see how his expression changed as he asked Cat, "Do you have a kid?"

"Yes," she replied, looking a little surprised. "I thought you would have told your husband. I have a son. He's a year old."

You desperately wanted her date with Cam to suck, and that made you feel like a shitty person all around. So you were suddenly blurting out, "We can watch him." The look on Bradley's face as he registered that he'd get to spend a few hours playing with a one year old, made your heart clench. 

"Yeah, you can drop him off with us," he told Cat, and tears stung your eyes. You had cramps. You'd probably get your period right in the middle of the overnight trip tomorrow night. But you just nodded, because even though Cat was going out with Cam instead of Jake, and even though you still weren't pregnant, you knew Bradley would have fun babysitting.

On the ride home, you were starting to get upset as you sobered up a bit more. You didn't want your mood to make you miserable for your night away. 

Bradley was pretty quiet until he asked, "Why didn't you tell me about you and Cam?"

"Nothing to tell," you replied softly. It was the truth. You'd harbored a bit of a crush on your friend at first; he was sweet and funny and you had all of your classes with him. You had spent a lot of time together, and you trusted him. And one night, despite both of your best efforts, it just didn't work when you tried to hookup. 

"But you spend a lot of time with him now. So what? Your attraction to him just stopped after one night?" Bradley grunted. "You go out to brunch with Cam and Maria all the time for that disgusting avocado toast. Hell, you make me spend so much time with him, I know what kind of pizza he likes and what he orders at the burger shack."

"Oh my god, Bradley. Exactly. He's just my friend! You know what kind of pizza he likes, because I want you to spend time with my friends!"

"But you clearly care about him."

"Bradley! You lived a whole life with other women before we met!"

"I never cared about them! I never loved them! Cam is your friend, and you care about him."

As soon as he parked the Bronco in the driveway, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and crawling into his lap. "What has gotten into you, Roo?" you asked, straddling his thighs and forcing him to look at you. "Cam? You're jealous of Cam in this moment? Knock it the fuck off."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, wrapping his arms around you. "I just didn't like the way I found out about it. Which isn't fair to you at all. Because you're right...about my past. And I know it has to embarrass you sometimes-"

You silenced him with a kiss as you brushed your fingers through his hair. When your forehead came to rest against his, you said, "Don't talk about yourself like that. You want all the details? We did not date. Cam and I ended up in his bed exactly one time. He was hard until I put my hand down his pants. I was excited until he took my bra off. Then we laughed awkwardly, called it quits, and watched a movie with three feet of space between us. So if you can't get onboard with the avocado toast brunches now, I don't even know what to say."

Bradley laughed a little bit. "I love you, and I'm sorry. I've just been... feeling my age recently, Baby Girl."

"What does that mean?" you asked, pressing your lips to his scarred cheek. 

He sighed. "Just trying to make sure I can keep up with you and everything you want."

"I want you."

"I know you do," he whispered.

"Then start acting like it, Bradley. Or I'll call you Grandpa instead of Daddy."

He was silent for a beat as you ran your hand down the front of his body. "You wanna go have some Daddy time right now?"

"It's like you can read my mind."

-------------------------

Bradley wore you out on Thursday night, and you were still tired on Friday after work when he drove up the coastal roads to the mysterious hotel he booked for the night. "Will you please tell me where you're taking me?" you asked for the millionth time. 

But he just laughed and said, "The funny thing is, I'm not really sure, Sweetheart. It's some crazy hotel called Le Chateau California, and I'm really only taking you there because they have something I think you'll love."

"What is it?" you asked, suddenly even more curious. 

"I'm not telling. We'll have to experience it for ourselves," he said, reaching for your bare thigh and stroking your skin.

"Are we there yet?" you whined. "How much further? I want my surprise." 

"You're worse than a child," he said with a smile, inching his hand further up under your dress. "We'll be there in twenty minutes. We're having dinner at eight, and you'll see the surprise then."

Bradley was great at teasing you, but this was perhaps his best effort to date. His fingers were just tucked inside your panties, stroking you while you tried to sit patiently, as he pulled up to a colorful boutique hotel on the outskirts of Newport Beach. "What is this place?" you asked him, whining again as he pulled his hand free before the valet could see where it had been. 

"Let's go find out," he said with a smirk. When you strolled into the lobby that looked like you'd fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist. 

"This is so cool," you gasped, still a little wound up from Bradley's fingers on your pussy. 

You were looking up at him with barely concealed lust. He had both overnight bags slung over his left shoulder like it was nothing. And when the woman at the concierge desk asked for the last name on the reservation, your core clenched as he rasped, "The Bradshaws."

As he handed over his credit card, you whimpered softly. His wide brown eyes were on yours as you pressed your lips together. Then he was smiling, but he didn't pick up the pace like you wanted him to. He asked the woman where the restaurant was located. He listened to her tell him more about the history of the hotel. He asked her another question as she handed over the room keys. He forced your hand. 

"Please?" you whispered, pressing yourself to his side. 

When he finally led you across the technicolor lobby toward the purple elevators, he pushed the up arrow and said, "We have dinner in twenty minutes."

You nearly wanted to stomp your foot. "You can fuck me in less time than that."

"You told me I'm never fast," he replied as the doors slid open. "So, probably not, Baby Girl."

"Bradley!" you screeched as soon as you and he were alone in the elevator. "I won't make it through dinner and you know it!" 

He kissed your lips so softly before the elevator stopped on your floor. "I love it when you get like this," he said as you tripped down the hallway next to him. "Go in and get ready for me." He handed you one of the keys, and you ran down the hallway that looked like a multicolored fever dream, barely taking the time to enjoy any of it. 

The hotel room was colorful and spacious with a king bed and a Juliet balcony. There was a view of the beach and some champagne in an ice bucket. But all you were concerned about was getting your underwear off and getting on the bed. 

Bradley strolled in and set the bags down before adjusting the thermostat. He tossed his sunglasses on the nightstand and combed his fingers through his hair before turning to watch you where you were laying on the bed with your dress pulled up to your waist. "Get on your knees," he rasped, and you did as you were told. Then his hands and lips were all over your butt and thighs before tasting you from behind.

"Bradley!" you gasped. You'd never get used to how good it felt to have him surprise you there with his mustache. And then you heard him unzip his jeans before wrapping one muscular arm around you and fucking you hard. You rocked forward onto your hands as he slammed into you. 

"You're so impatient," he grunted. "Can't even make it to dinner and to your surprise unless you're full of my cum."

It was going to be embarrassing how quickly you came for him when he was dishing out the smug dirty talk. But when his fingers stroked you in time with his thrusts, you smiled and bit your lip. The colorful bedding and walls around the room made you feel a little dizzy, but nothing compared to the sensation when Bradley hit just the right spot inside you and gently spanked your clit.

"Fuck!" you squealed, clenching so hard he groaned your name. 

"Shit, Baby Girl," he growled, filling you up with his cum. But you were already there, face planted in the pillows to keep yourself quiet as you came. When you picked your head up a few inches and turned to look back at him while he was still inside you, he rubbed one big palm along your butt. "Sorry I finished so fast. You look pretty with your ass in the air," he whispered. 

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms. "And you look pretty with your cock inside me."

He chuckled and withdrew himself, and then he ran his fingers along your pussy like he was massaging his cum back inside you. "I'm not ovulating anymore, Roo," you reminded him. He could cum inside you all weekend and it wouldn't make a difference. 

"Doesn't matter," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your butt, thighs and pussy once more. "It's not going to make me want to stop giving you creampies all the time." You sighed softly as he finally stood, and you watched him walk around the bed with his cock hanging out of his jeans. "It's almost time for our dinner reservation," he reminded you as he walked into the bathroom. 

You rolled onto your back, legs clenched together as his mess coated your thighs. While you listened to him wash his hands, you closed your eyes and wished desperately that you were pregnant. You thought about everything that would change for you if you were, and you knew you'd be ready for it. 

"Coming?" he asked, reaching out for your hand. Bradley pulled you to your feet and helped you back into your underwear, looking up at you and shaking his head at the sight of his cum everywhere. He wasn't old. It blew your mind that he sometimes thought he was. He was better and sexier and stronger than anyone younger. He was everything you wanted.

"Let's go."

----------------------------

Bradley spent almost seven hundred dollars for the hotel room for the night. It was another fifty bucks to valet the Bronco, and the prices on the dinner menu in the swanky restaurant were so high, he thought they must be joking. But he wanted you to have whatever you wanted, so he ordered a twenty dollar beer so you would, too. And he ordered exactly what he wanted to eat so you would, too. 

He'd tapped out his savings when he bought the craftsman for the two of you, including the money his mom left for him. But he'd been working on building up his savings again. The dream of making one of the bedrooms a nursery sometime in the near future was clawing away at his mind. He thought about it a lot: colorful airplanes and clouds on the walls and a crib with a sweet baby that had his hair and your eyes. 

His attention was drawn back to the present as soon as the waiter returned with your beers and a platter of bread and fruit. The colorful overhead light was reflecting blue, green and orange onto your pretty face as you glanced up with a look of wonder at the waiter. Because he was now saying the words Bradley had been waiting weeks for you to hear. It was the reason he wanted to book a room as soon as he heard about this hotel. 

"While you wait for your entrees, feel free to walk around and explore our wall of condiments from around the world, our champagne waterfall, and our hot sauce vending machine."

You lurched in your seat. "Did you say hot sauce vending machine?!"

"Yes," the waiter replied with a smile, nodding to the far end of the restaurant. "Have fun."

"Bradley!" you shrieked. "They have a hot sauce vending machine!"

He grinned as you pulled him to his feet. "I know, Baby Girl. That's why I brought you here."

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss that was better suited for the bedroom, but Bradley didn't care that there was a couple trying to eat at the next table. You were happy right now when there were times recently that you clearly hadn't been, so they'd just have to deal. 

Bradley eventually led you to the vending machine which was enormous and filled with tiny bottles of hundreds of different kinds of sauces. You stood before it in the colorful wonderland of a restaurant, analyzing each one like this was the most important work assignment of your career. 

"That's one's from Japan," you mused out loud, pointing to a green bottle. "I've always wanted to try it. Oh, and that one is made in Maryland! We need to get that one."

"Pick as many as you want, Sweetheart. They come with the meal." You actually jumped up and down and clapped your hands as you pushed the buttons to select twenty two different hot sauces, loading Bradley's arms up with the little bottles one at a time.

Then you stopped at the champagne fountain and got two glasses to take back as well. The waiter brought your dinners and some extra plates for all of the hot sauces, and you lined them up across the table. "I think I'm in heaven," you said, dipping your fork into a sauce and tasting it. 

Bradley watched you enjoy the flavor before dipping the fork again and holding it out to him. Your smile and the expectant look on your face as he tasted it made him happy, too. "I know I'm in heaven."

------------------------

How do we feel about Cam and Cat? How do we feel about Cam and BG? I also have a Cam face grab. The hot sauce vending machine is for @dakotakazansky !Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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[covid-safer-hotties]

Reference saved on our archive (Daily updates! Thousands of Science, News, and other sources on covid!)

Could we develop a covid test breathalyzer? This is a study of one such device!

Abstract The SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus emerged in 2019 causing a COVID-19 pandemic that resulted in 7 million deaths out of 770 million reported cases over the next 4 years. The global health emergency called for unprecedented efforts to monitor and reduce the rate of infection, pushing the study of new diagnostic methods. In this paper, we introduce a cheap, fast, and non-invasive COVID-19 detection system, which exploits only exhaled breath. Specifically, provided an air sample, the mass spectra in the 10–351 mass-to-charge range are measured using an original micro and nano-sampling device coupled with a high-precision spectrometer; then, the raw spectra are processed by custom software algorithms; the clean and augmented data are eventually classified using state-of-the-art machine-learning algorithms. An uncontrolled clinical trial was conducted between 2021 and 2022 on 302 subjects who were concerned about being infected, either due to exhibiting symptoms or having recently recovered from illness. Despite the simplicity of use, our system showed a performance comparable to the traditional polymerase-chain-reaction and antigen testing in identifying cases of COVID-19 (that is, 95% accuracy, 94% recall, 96% specificity, and 92% F1-score). In light of these outcomes, we think that the proposed system holds the potential for substantial contributions to routine screenings and expedited responses during future epidemics, as it yields results comparable to state-of-the-art methods, providing them in a more rapid and less invasive manner.