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zoeticbposervices1 · 1 year ago

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"Shielding Business Processes: A Deep Dive into Cybersecurity in BPO"

Introduction: In an era dominated by digital advancements, Business Process Outsourcing (BPO) companies play a vital role in handling sensitive client data. This blog post explores the critical importance of cybersecurity in BPO operations and the measures taken to safeguard client information.

Understanding the Cyber Threat Landscape in BPO: Start by setting the stage with an overview of the cybersecurity challenges faced by BPO companies. Discuss the evolving nature of cyber threats and the potential risks associated with handling large volumes of confidential data.Read more about common cybersecurity threats here.

Robust Data Encryption Protocols: Dive into the technical aspects of data security by highlighting the importance of robust encryption protocols. Discuss how BPO companies implement advanced encryption algorithms to protect sensitive information during storage and transmission.Learn about the significance of encryption in cybersecurity.

Employee Training and Awareness Programs: Explore the human factor in cybersecurity by discussing the role of employee training and awareness programs. Emphasize how well-informed and vigilant employees can be a powerful line of defense against phishing attacks and social engineering.Discover the key elements of effective cybersecurity training.

Multi-Factor Authentication (MFA) Implementation: Highlight the effectiveness of Multi-Factor Authentication (MFA) in adding an extra layer of security. Discuss how BPO companies leverage MFA to ensure that only authorized personnel have access to sensitive systems and data.Explore the benefits of Multi-Factor Authentication in cybersecurity.

Regular Security Audits and Penetration Testing: Discuss the proactive approach of BPO companies in conducting regular security audits and penetration testing. Explain how these measures help identify vulnerabilities and strengthen cybersecurity defenses.Learn more about the importance of penetration testing in cybersecurity.

Data Privacy Compliance Measures: Explore the regulatory landscape governing data privacy and the compliance measures BPO companies adopt. Discuss the implementation of frameworks such as GDPR and HIPAA to ensure adherence to international data protection standards.Understand the significance of data privacy compliance in cybersecurity.

Conclusion: Summarize the key cybersecurity measures discussed in the blog and reiterate the crucial role BPO companies play in maintaining the trust and confidence of their clients through robust cybersecurity practices.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago

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Epic Systems, a lethal health record monopolist

Epic Systems makes the dominant electronic health record (EHR) system in America; if you're a doctor, chances are you are required to use it, and for every hour a doctor spends with a patient, they have to spend two hours doing clinically useless bureaucratic data-entry on an Epic EHR.

How could a product so manifestly unfit for purpose be the absolute market leader? Simple: as Robert Kuttner describes in an excellent feature in The American Prospect, Epic may be a clinical disaster, but it's a profit-generating miracle:

https://prospect.org/health/2024-10-01-epic-dystopia/

At the core of Epic's value proposition is "upcoding," a form of billing fraud that is beloved of hospital administrators, including the "nonprofit" hospitals that generate vast fortunes that are somehow not characterized as profits. Here's a particularly egregious form of upcoding: back in 2020, the Poudre Valley Hospital in Ft Collins, CO locked all its doors except the ER entrance. Every patient entering the hospital, including those receiving absolutely routine care, was therefore processed as an "emergency."

In April 2020, Caitlin Wells Salerno – a pregnant biologist – drove to Poudre Valley with normal labor pains. She walked herself up to obstetrics, declining the offer of a wheelchair, stopping only to snap a cheeky selfie. Nevertheless, the hospital recorded her normal, uncomplicated birth as a Level 5 emergency – comparable to a major heart-attack – and whacked her with a $2755 bill for emergency care:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/27/crossing-a-line/#zero-fucks-given

Upcoding has its origins in the Reagan revolution, when the market-worshipping cultists he'd put in charge of health care created the "Prospective Payment System," which paid a lump sum for care. The idea was to incentivize hospitals to provide efficient care, since they could keep the difference between whatever they spent getting you better and the set PPS amount that Medicare would reimburse them. Hospitals responded by inventing upcoding: a patient with controlled, long-term coronary disease who showed up with a broken leg would get coded for the coronary condition and the cast, and the hospital would pocket both lump sums:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/13/a-punch-in-the-guts/#hayek-pilled

The reason hospital administrators love Epic, and pay gigantic sums for systemwide software licenses, is directly connected to the two hours that doctors spent filling in Epic forms for every hour they spend treating patients. Epic collects all that extra information in order to identify potential sources of plausible upcodes, which allows hospitals to bill patients, insurers, and Medicare through the nose for routine care. Epic can automatically recode "diabetes with no complications" from a Hierarchical Condition Category code 19 (worth $894.40) as "diabetes with kidney failure," code 18 and 136, which gooses the reimbursement to $1273.60.

Epic snitches on doctors to their bosses, giving them a dashboard to track doctors' compliance with upcoding suggestions. One of Kuttner's doctor sources says her supervisor contacts her with questions like, "That appointment was a 2. Don’t you think it might be a 3?"

Robert Kuttner is the perfect journalist to unravel the Epic scam. As a journalist who wrote for The New England Journal of Medicine, he's got an insider's knowledge of the health industry, and plenty of sources among health professionals. As he tells it, Epic is a cultlike, insular company that employs 12.500 people in its hometown of Verona, WI.

The EHR industry's origins start with a GW Bush-era law called the HITECH Act, which was later folded into Obama's Recovery Act in 2009. Obama provided $27b to hospitals that installed EHR systems. These systems had to more than track patient outcomes – they also provided the data for pay-for-performance incentives. EHRs were already trying to do something very complicated – track health outcomes – but now they were also meant to underpin a cockamamie "incentives" program that was supposed to provide a carrot to the health industry so it would stop killing people and ripping off Medicare. EHRs devolved into obscenely complex spaghetti systems that doctors and nurses loathed on sight.

But there was one group that loved EHRs: hospital administrators and the private companies offering Medicare Advantage plans (which also benefited from upcoding patients in order to soak Uncle Sucker):

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8649706/

The spread of EHRs neatly tracks with a spike in upcharging: "from 2014 through 2019, the number of hospital stays billed at the highest severity level increased almost 20 percent…the number of stays billed at each of the other severity levels decreased":

https://oig.hhs.gov/oei/reports/OEI-02-18-00380.pdf

The purpose of a system is what it does. Epic's industry-dominating EHR is great at price-gouging, but it sucks as a clinical tool – it takes 18 keystrokes just to enter a prescription:

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2729481

Doctors need to see patients, but their bosses demand that they satisfy Epic's endless red tape. Doctors now routinely stay late after work and show up hours early, just to do paperwork. It's not enough. According to another one of Kuttner's sources, doctors routinely copy-and-paste earlier entries into the current one, a practice that generates rampant errors. Some just make up random numbers to fulfill Epic's nonsensical requirements: the same source told Kuttner that when prompted to enter a pain score for his TB patients, he just enters "zero."

Don't worry, Epic has a solution: AI. They've rolled out an "ambient listening" tool that attempts to transcribe everything the doctor and patient say during an exam and then bash it into a visit report. Not only is this prone to the customary mistakes that make AI unsuited to high-stakes, error-sensitive applications, it also represents a profound misunderstanding of the purpose of clinical notes.

The very exercise of organizing your thoughts and reflections about an event – such as a medical exam – into a coherent report makes you apply rigor and perspective to events that otherwise arrive as a series of fleeting impressions and reactions. That's why blogging is such an effective practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

The answer to doctors not having time to reflect and organize good notes is to give them more time – not more AI. As another doctor told Kuttner: "Ambient listening is a solution to a self-created problem of requiring too much data entry by clinicians."

EHRs are one of those especially hellish public-private partnerships. Health care doctrine from Reagan to Obama insisted that the system just needed to be exposed to market forces and incentives. EHRs are designed to allow hospitals to win as many of these incentives as possible. Epic's clinical care modules do this by bombarding doctors with low-quality diagnostic suggestions with "little to do with a patient’s actual condition and risks," leading to "alert fatigue," so doctors miss the important alerts in the storm of nonsense elbow-jostling:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5058605/

Clinicians who actually want to improve the quality of care in their facilities end up recording data manually and keying it into spreadsheets, because they can't get Epic to give them the data they need. Meanwhile, an army of high-priced consultants stand ready to give clinicians advise on getting Epic to do what they need, but can't seem to deliver.

Ironically, one of the benefits that Epic touts is its interoperability: hospitals that buy Epic systems can interconnect those with other Epic systems, and there's a large ecosystem of aftermarket add-ons that work with Epic. But Epic is a product, not a protocol, so its much-touted interop exists entirely on its terms, and at its sufferance. If Epic chooses, a doctor using its products can send files to a doctor using a rival product. But Epic can also veto that activity – and its veto extends to deciding whether a hospital can export their patient records to a competing service and get off Epic altogether.

One major selling point for Epic is its capacity to export "anonymized" data for medical research. Very large patient data-sets like Epic's are reasonably believed to contain many potential medical insights, so medical researchers are very excited at the prospect of interrogating that data.

But Epic's approach – anonymizing files containing the most sensitive information imaginable, about millions of people, and then releasing them to third parties – is a nightmare. "De-identified" data-sets are notoriously vulnerable to "re-identification" and the threat of re-identification only increases every time there's another release or breach, which can used to reveal the identities of people in anonymized records. For example, if you have a database of all the prescribing at a given hospital – a numeric identifier representing the patient, and the time and date when they saw a doctor and got a scrip. At any time in the future, a big location-data breach – say, from Uber or a transit system – can show you which people went back and forth to the hospital at the times that line up with those doctor's appointments, unmasking the person who got abortion meds, cancer meds, psychiatric meds or other sensitive prescriptions.

The fact that anonymized data can – will! – be re-identified doesn't mean we have to give up on the prospect of gleaning insight from medical records. In the UK, the eminent doctor Ben Goldacre and colleagues built an incredible effective, privacy-preserving "trusted research environment" (TRE) to operate on millions of NHS records across a decentralized system of hospitals and trusts without ever moving the data off their own servers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/08/the-fire-of-orodruin/#are-we-the-baddies

The TRE is an open source, transparent server that accepts complex research questions in the form of database queries. These queries are posted to a public server for peer-review and revision, and when they're ready, the TRE sends them to each of the databases where the records are held. Those databases transmit responses to the TRE, which then publishes them. This has been unimaginably successful: the prototype of the TRE launched during the lockdown generated sixty papers in Nature in a matter of months.

Monopolies are inefficient, and Epic's outmoded and dangerous approach to research, along with the roadblocks it puts in the way of clinical excellence, epitomizes the problems with monopoly. America's health care industry is a dumpster fire from top to bottom – from Medicare Advantage to hospital cartels – and allowing Epic to dominate the EHR market has somehow, incredibly, made that system even worse.

Naturally, Kuttner finishes out his article with some antitrust analysis, sketching out how the Sherman Act could be brought to bear on Epic. Something has to be done. Epic's software is one of the many reasons that MDs are leaving the medical profession in droves.

Epic epitomizes the long-standing class war between doctors who want to take care of their patients and hospital executives who want to make a buck off of those patients.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

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/2024/10/02/upcoded-to-death/#thanks-obama

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

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multific · 4 months ago

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Between Prey and Partner

Yautja x Reader

Summary: Trapped on a different planet with only a Yautja. You didn't know how you got there or why.

You did not know how you got here.

One moment, you had been surrounded by the familiar.

Then, a flash.

A sensation like freefalling without an end.

Now, you stood on alien ground, under a sky too wide, too red, where distant moons hung like silent sentinels.

You were alone.

Or so you thought.

The first time you saw him, the Yautja, your blood ran cold. You had heard the stories. Creatures bred for the hunt, ruthless, precise, unrelenting.

You were human. Weak by their standards. The outcome should have been inevitable.

And yet, the killing blow never came.

Instead, a silent truce was formed.

Perhaps necessity forced it, this planet was a death trap, filled with creatures that saw you both as prey. You could not afford to be enemies.

You did not trust him, and he certainly did not trust you. All you knew, you had to survive.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.

What started as a partnership out of the need for survival grew into something more.

The Yautja was stronger, faster, and able to hunt with precision that left you in awe. You, in turn, were clever, resourceful, and skilled at problem-solving in ways that defied strength.

Together, you built shelter, weapons, and defences. Together, you thrived.

And in the quiet moments, when he watched over you as you slept, when his claws, usually so sharp, so deadly, brushed against your skin without harm, something else took root.

Love. Or at least the beginning of it.

You did not speak the same language, not entirely.

But understanding was forged in glances, in gestures, in the way he stood close when danger was near, in the way he offered you the best of his kills before taking his share. In the way his body tensed when you were injured, as though the pain you felt was his.

You two began to share a bed, his body keeping you shielded and warm during the cold nights.

You began to grow happy with your life here on this dangerous planet.

Then you found the tablet.

At first, you had only meant to explore. The Yautja kept few things hidden from you, but this… this had been tucked away, out of sight. You powered it on, expecting perhaps a map, a record of his kind.

What you found instead shattered you.

Logs. Data entries. The original purpose of this planet.

You were not here by accident. You had been brought here to be hunted. You had been prey.

And he… he had been your hunter.

Tears filled your eyes as you turned to face him, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.

He must have sensed it immediately, the way your body stiffened, the way your gaze no longer held warmth but something sharp and cold.

"You lied to me," your voice trembled, fists clenching at your sides. "This whole time, you were meant to kill me."

He did not deny it.

He stood still, his massive form a shadow against the firelight, golden eyes unreadable.

But you saw it now, the hesitation from the beginning, the unspoken conflict in his silence, the way his hands curled and uncurled as if resisting some deeper instinct.

"Why?" you choked out. "Why did you keep me alive? Why pretend?"

A growl rumbled from his chest, but it was not one of anger.

If anything, he looked pained.

"Not… pretend," he said, his voice rough with unused human words. "Changed. When saw you."

Your heart slammed against your ribs, but you were too furious, too devastated to let his words reach you. "Changed? How convenient. I was supposed to be a trophy, wasn’t I? A prize for your hunt. And now what? I’m just—what? Another possession? A pet?"

His mandibles flared, his breathing heavy. "No. Not possession or pet. Not prey."

You shook your head, stepping back. He reached for you.

For the first time, he looked lost, as if he did not know how to bridge the chasm that had opened between you.

"I trusted you," you whispered, your voice raw. "I-"

But you couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit that your heart had already given itself to him long before you even realized it.

You just headed to the bed and cried your heart out.

You did not speak to him for days after that. You could not bring yourself to.

And yet, he did not leave.

He did not beg, did not try to force words from you. Instead, he remained close. Guarded you. Hunted for you. Tended to your wounds in silence when danger inevitably came for you both.

The things he had always done. But now, you could see it for what it was.

Regret.

The walls you had built around yourself cracked slowly. You caught glimpses of him during the quiet moments, his head bowed when he thought you weren’t looking, the careful way he placed food near you but never too close, as if afraid you would reject it. As if afraid you would reject him.

It took time. More time than either of you wanted. But eventually, you found yourself beside him once more, the weight of your anger faded, exhaustion settling in its place.

"You really weren’t going to kill me?" you asked at last, breaking the silence.

He exhaled, his golden eyes locking onto yours. "Never."

You swallowed, heart aching. "Then why didn’t you tell me?"

His clawed fingers twitched, hesitant. "Did not know… how. Did not want you to fear."

A bitter laugh left your lips. "I was afraid. But not of you. Of what we have. Of what it meant and will grow into."

He rumbled low, the sound vibrating in his chest, something sorrowful and tender in its depths. "Still afraid?"

You looked at him then, really looked at him, the hunter who had spared you, the warrior who had become your shield, the creature who had, against all odds, chosen you.

And you chose him.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his mandibles. He stilled beneath your touch as if your acceptance was a fragile thing that could shatter at any moment. He was afraid to move.

"Not anymore," you murmured.

And when he pulled you into his arms, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the universe, you knew you had forgiven him.

Not because he had asked.

But because love had never been a hunt, it had always been a choice.

And you had made yours.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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captainmalewriter · 8 months ago

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Made to Order

Franco pulled up to the apartment building of his latest client. He parked his car along the street and sent his client a quick text letting him know he had arrived. Franco then pulled out a pair of earphones from the glove compartment, connected them to his phone’s jack port, and put them on. He then booted up a survey app. It greeted him with a light blue screen and a ‘Hello!’ in a British accent.

“Let’s see what kind of guy this dude paid good money to bang…” Franco muttered to himself as he pulled up the list of responses from the survey he sent to his clients. He scrolled to the latest data entry and skimmed it over. A grin formed on his face as he read it.

“Alright then! No time like the present, let’s get to work.”

He downloaded the data entry into his phone’s local storage and composed it into an audio file. Once it was ready, Franco pressed ‘play’ and leaned back in his seat as the makeshift music began to fill his ears. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind of any and all thoughts, allowing the music to submerge his mind and body with powerful subliminal messaging.

Gender: Male. Age: 24. Height: 6’4” ft. Weight: 170 lbs.

Franco groaned as a cold chill ran up his spine. As he grew taller and heavier, the muscles in his legs rapidly flexed and relaxed.

“Ohhh… Fuckk man…”

Franco couldn’t help but massage his aching body as he began to physically transform. He became hyper-aware of how his body felt and moved, which made touching his sensitive skin with his warm hands all the more pleasurable as it gradually changed. Franco moved the car seat back, as he needed the extra space to accommodate his sudden growth spurt. He gained several inches of height and about 30 pounds until he matched the size his client had requested.

Hair Color: Brown. Eye Color: Green. Facial Hair? Mustache only. Body Hair? Yes.

The next few details of Franco’s client’s request rang in his ear and reverberated throughout his body. He gripped the sides of his seat as he felt his body working overtime to pump out heavy quantities of hormones. He winced in pain as his dark brown eyes changed colors. They became lighter and lighter in hue until they were a brilliant shade of green that glimmered in the sunlight.

Franco’s hair was next to transform. The straight, black hair on his head grew lighter and curlier until he had wavy, brown hair. The skin on Franco’s upper lip tingled and itched as the hair follicles began rapidly growing in. Franco let out a heavy moan as his mustache hairs kept growing and growing until he had a thick mustache that hung over his lips. Once he had the right mustache, his underarm hair began growing, too. Franco only had a light dusting of pit hair, but thanks to his strange audio files, he could grow well past his natural limits. His armpit hair grew longer and thicker until he had a jungle of brown pit hair in his underarms. His pit hair had become so long that it even peeked out when Franco had his arms down!

Ethnicity: Mexican. Language: Spanish, or English w/ Accent.

Franco let out a sigh of relief as he heard the next three lines of the audio file. Thankfully, the next transformation would be more mental than physical, which gave Franco a chance to take a quick breather.

He relaxed against the headrest as the audio file echoed inside his mind. The more Franco heard his client’s preferences, the more his psyche changed to match his request. Suddenly, Franco was no longer a middle aged man from Midwest U.S.A. but a young Mexican man who had only recently immigrated into the country. His mind became filled with all sorts of new knowledge surrounding his Mexican heritage and culture, such as the Spanish language.

“Mmm… Que rico…” Franco purred sensually as his throat muscles broadened and his vocal cords thickened, granting him the heavy accent his client had requested. The audio file also gave him a deeper voice too. Although that detail was more for Franco’s personal enjoyment than anything else.

But despite his newfound knowledge, there was only one thing the newly transformed Franco desired: to fuck as many men as physically possible. There was nothing he loved more than seeing a man pressed down against a pillow as he railed them to the next Tuesday. Just the thought of a man’s bubble butt swallowing his dick was enough to make him start leaking.

Size: 7.5 inches. Breed: Dom top. Body odor: YES.

While Franco was busy relishing his new voice and fantasizing about his next bottom, the next line of the audio file played, triggering the final piece of the transformation. Franco threw his head back as the next wave of bodily sensations caught him off guard. He let out loud, guttural groans as his manhood grew obscenely erect until it filled in his underwear. Franco massaged his sensitive, throbbing member as it grew longer and fatter than what he originally had. Before he knew it, Franco’s new endowment ripped the fabric of his briefs. His dick sprang to life like it was just begging to be released and played with as soon as possible!

Franco wrapped his hand around his new dick and gave himself a few strokes just to test out his new tool. As he did so, a rank smell began to fill his car. It was sweaty, smelly, and addicting. That scent was none other than his natural body odor but kicked up to 100%. With the windows rolled down, Franco was becoming hot-boxed off his own tantalizing smell. Not that it really bothered him, as he was too busy admiring the glorious sight of his new, hung cock standing at full mast with a healthy bush of thick pubes to complete the look.

A tap on the window interrupted Franco’s moment of self-admiration. He glanced over and saw his client watching him with hungry eyes and a hand stuffed down his pants. Franco smirked, then rolled down his window.

“Hola papacito. ¿Te gusto?” Franco flexed his arms and winked at his client. The man nodded vigorously like a dog begging for a juicy steak. Then, he took a heavy whiff of Franco’s potent body odor and sighed, satisfied.

“I can’t wait any longer! C’mon, let’s get you inside!!”

Franco grinned. He loved the whiny sound of a man begging to get fucked. He tossed his phone and earphones to the side and followed his client up to his apartment, where he proceeded to show him the dom Mexican top he requested to fuck him hard and raw. Another man made to order, another man satisfied.

#male transformation #male tf #male shapeshift #mental change #race change #tf by tech #pit tf

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steddiehyperfixation · 3 months ago

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run away with me

@steddiebingo prompts: ocean + childhood friends (if like 16-19 counts as childhood, which i say it does !) | 2.6k words | T | mild cw for depression and alcohol as an unhealthy coping mechanism

Steve stares numbly out the office window, his view an ocean of concrete and the few sad, sparse trees that were planted in the median between this building’s parking lot and the neighboring one in a very weak attempt to give an illusion that anything natural or organic goes on here. As if there’s anything more than stiff, soulless buildings filled with stiff, soulless men in stiff, soulless suits who have dull conversations about money and more empathy for a credit card or an expensive car than for any human being.

Every second is hours long, everything is so important and nothing matters at all, and everyone’s always in a rush but they never seem to go anywhere. It used to make his skin crawl, the slow monotony behind the urgent droning. He used to feel like he couldn’t breathe here, trapped at a desk and a computer, squirming under the constant presence of his boss and father, every eternal second oozing by and settling over him as if it had physical weight. He felt stuck and still, like a fly caught in amber, movements leaden and pointless as he sinks and suffocates slowly in a syrupy prison. But after a year of working here, Steve no longer cares. He’s sunk in deep enough that it’s all dulled out and he’s become just as detached and hollow as the rest of them. He tells himself it’s only temporary anyways.

The phone rings at his desk, dragging his attention away from the window and pulling him out of his stupor.

“Richard Harrington’s office,” Steve answers mechanically. “This is his assistant, Steve. How may I help you?”

It's a client, a long-time one who's been around for business meetings and dinners since he was a kid, and she coos over how mature and professional he sounds now. He gets that a lot, old clients and business partners of his dad’s calling or coming into the office and lavishing him with compliments on his role and responsibility. It’s funny; they never thought so highly of him before, but they sure do now. And despite it all, Steve can’t help but preen under the praise, feeling all grown up and just like a child.

He lets this lady gush for a little while longer before he takes her message for Richard and hangs up the phone. That brief moment of emotion flickers out and the dullness returns. The day drags on.

“Thank god it’s Friday, huh?” Tommy Hagan leans against the counter in the break room when Steve goes to get a coffee refill. “I had to file so many reports today, I’m about ready to kill myself.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Steve mutters, punching the button to start the coffee machine.

“You’re still coming out with us tonight, right?” Tommy asks. “My cousin’s in town - you know, the one I told you about, the model. I think you two are really gonna get along.” He says it with this gross smirk, double meaning abundantly clear, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Dude, stop trying to pimp your cousin out to me, man. You talk her up so much I’m starting to think maybe you want her.”

“But you’ll be there, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Steve says. Of course he’ll be there. It’s routine. It’s all routine. They commiserate in the break room like a couple of wizened old world-weary businessmen on workdays and then party like teenagers on the weekend. Dulled out from the week, they buy back their missing emotion in the form of alcohol and drugs. A good buzz makes a decent substitute for a feeling, in a pinch. It’s just enough to survive on week after week.

“Good.” Tommy grins, clapping Steve on the shoulder on his way out.

Steve grabs his coffee and returns to his desk, to phone calls and faxes and data entry until the clock finally hits 5:00 and releases everyone into the illusion of freedom. He breathes an empty sigh of relief along with everyone else, shutting off the computer and shoving files back into folders, packing up to leave. “Tell your mother I’ll be working late tonight,” Richard tells him, and Steve nods. Nothing ever changes.

It's quite a shock to the normal routine of things, then, when he pulls up to his driveway to find an extra car parked out front. Which wouldn't be unusual on its own - his mom sometimes has friends over on Fridays - except for the fact that this car is a total piece of shit, which rules out any friend of his parents, and there's a wild-haired man leaning against it. It's the sight of that old once familiar face that's so jarring to him, has him hitting the brakes too hard and parking jerkily.

Steve gets out of his car and stares in disbelief. “Eddie Munson.”

“So it's true.” Eddie looks him over, eyes carefully cataloguing Steve's stuffy business suit and tie. “You've gone corporate.”

Steve swallows. His body seems to have forgotten how to breathe. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What the hell am I doing here? Man, what the hell are you doing here?” Eddie counters, pushing himself off the side of his car and walking closer, one arm swept out to gesture at everything around them: the big house, the rich neighborhood, the expensive car, Steve and the very town itself. “You were gonna get away from all this. You were gonna follow Robin to college and live by the ocean and teach middle school. Now I find out you’re back here living with your parents and working for your dad?”

“Yeah, I tried- we tried,” Steve says, tensing at the judgement in Eddie’s tone. “We moved to the coast, made it work the best we could for a little while but it didn't last. Working minimum wage jobs just wasn't paying the rent and the money ran out and we both had to move back home. But this- this is just temporary.”

“Temporary,” Eddie repeats, like he doesn’t believe him. “You’ve been here a year.”

“Yeah.”

“Robin says you guys hardly talk anymore.”

Steve’s chest feels tight. “Yeah, um, we just sort of drifted apart.” He shrugs, doesn’t want to get into it. There’s not much more to say anyways - and that was the whole problem, really. Steve’s life had gotten so boring and mundane he didn’t have a whole lot to talk about anymore. His humor dried up, their conversations fell flat, and eventually Robin stopped reaching out. “It happens.”

(You would know, he almost adds. After all, he and Eddie had drifted apart too, a lot longer ago.)

“Right…” Eddie frowns. Steve doesn’t like the way he’s looking at him, searching his face like he’s trying to see behind his eyes. He looks away.

“Look, it’s nice to see you again, but I don’t have time to keep chatting right now. I have plans,” he says, short and dismissive. It’s a lie of course, or half of one; Steve has plenty of time before he’s supposed to meet up with Tommy, he just doesn’t want to stay in this conversation. “I’m grabbing a drink with a friend in a minute.”

“‘A friend’,” Eddie continues to question him, either not taking the hint or blatantly ignoring it, “but not Robin?”

Steve sighs. “A coworker,” he elaborates. “Tommy.”

“Hagan?” Eddie scoffs, predictably incredulous and unsupportive. He shakes his head. “Jesus, man, what the fuck happened to you? This isn’t you, Steve, none of this is. I know you, and this is all wrong. You can’t seriously be happy like this.”

“You don’t know me,” Steve snaps, defensive mostly because he knows Eddie’s right.

Because Eddie does know him, better than just about anyone except maybe Robin. They were close once, years ago, the better part of their late teens filled with nights spent laying together on the roof of Eddie’s trailer under the stars, trading secrets in hushed voices, all their fears and hopes and dreams, sometimes passing a joint back and forth but other times high on nothing more than simply the other’s presence so close beside them, the brush of their hands and the press of their shoulders. It was a deep and intimate friendship, one that teetered on the edge of becoming something more but never got the chance to, because Eddie was the one who ran away first. By the time Steve made it to the ocean, Eddie had already crossed it and they fell out of touch.

So Eddie knows him, and he’s right, but he has no right to make such a claim after leaving Steve high and dry for years. He has no right to come all the way here just to shit on Steve’s life, no matter how correctly, after so long of not being a part of it.

“You knew me as a teenager,” Steve continues harshly, bitterly. “You knew me as a stupid, hopeful, naive kid. I’ve grown up since then, Eddie. That’s what the fuck happened to me. I grew up.”

“No, you haven’t grown up,” Eddie sneers. “If anything, you’ve gone backwards. Look at you, it’s like you’re 16 all over again. All hail King Steve - popular pointless rich kid, partying with Tommy Hagan, desperate for approval from all the wrong people.”

Steve clenches his jaw. “I think you should leave.”

“It breaks my heart to see you like this, Stevie.”

“Then don’t see me. Just go. Run away again, it’s what you’re best at.”

Eddie doesn’t seem to have a comeback for that. He deflates, starts taking a few steps back. “Your Majesty,” he relents with a mocking bow that would’ve come across as derisive if he didn’t look so goddamn sad. He turns around and so does Steve, walking off in opposite directions.

Steve feels almost dizzy, ill. There are too many emotions swirling beneath the numbness he’d gotten so used to, emotions so long forgotten he can no longer recognize them, can no longer remember how to feel them properly, and so they gather like nausea in his stomach instead. He can smell his mother’s cooking when he enters the house, but declines her offer to make him up a plate. His appetite is gone, and besides, skipping dinner just means he’ll get drunker faster later, which sounds like a pretty good deal to him. He can’t wait to drink away all thoughts of Eddie and their conversation.

And that’s exactly what he does. He goes out and he gets drunk. Drunk enough to hook up with Tommy’s cousin; drunk enough to convince himself he’s not thinking of anybody else when he tangles his hands in her dark curly hair.

It does give him a start the next morning though, when he wakes up to wild curls splayed out on the pillow beside him. He sits up with a jolt, his mind slow and hungover and his eyes still blurry with sleep and for a second he thinks-- But then he blinks, his eyes adjust, and that's clearly a woman in his bed.

She stirs at his movement, lifting a hand to her forehead and groaning. Steve sympathizes.

“Hell of a hangover, huh?” he says.

“Yeah.” She glances over at him and smirks. “Totally worth it though,” she adds as she props herself up. “I had fun last night.”

“Yeah, me too.” He can't remember her name. Tabitha or Tanya or something like that.

“Well.” She stands, starts collecting her clothes off the floor and getting dressed. “I should get home.” She tosses her hair out of the jacket she's just shrugged on. “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“Yeah, see you around,” he echoes, watching her leave.

Then she's gone, and Steve sags back against the headboard. His stomach is churning and not just from the hangover. Emotions again, ugly ones. He's just beginning to be able to recall what they are now. Guilt, shame. He should've remembered her name. He should've offered her a ride home. How long has it been since he's cared about these things?

He closes his eyes, an attempt to disconnect for a second, but these feelings won't go away. So he sighs, drags himself out of bed, and tries to go about his day like normal, tries to ignore the fact that he can fucking feel again.

He’s doing pretty well, same old routine, until night falls and the normalcy is broken by the sound of a rock bouncing off his bedroom window. Two more follow after he ignores the first one, so he grudgingly marches over and flings open his curtains to see what’s going on. He blinks at the sight before him, but his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him this time. Eddie Munson is outside throwing pebbles at his window. As if he hasn’t already done enough damage.

Steve huffs irritably, turning on his heel and storming downstairs to meet him. “Listen, if you’ve just come back to tell me more about how shit my life is, I don’t want to hear it-”

“Run away with me,” Eddie says instead, and Steve stops short.

“Are you crazy?”

“Yeah.” Eddie grins, that wild grin of his that gave him the reputation of insane and reckless when they were younger, but the gleam in his eye falls short of manic. Nervous, excited, desperate, hopeful, maybe; but not crazy. He takes a step closer and speaks like he means it. “You were right, running away is what I’m best at. But I don’t want to run from you, not again, so come with me this time.” His hands reach out as if to touch him, but then change course, gesturing widely. “We can head towards the sea, or wherever you want. What do you say?”

“I already tried that.” Steve shakes his head. “I told you, Robin and I already tried that and it didn’t work.”

“So you’re just never gonna try again? Come on,” Eddie urges, “Robin can come too. Call her up, apologize for being a neglectful fucking friend, and let’s all get the hell out of here. Together.”

“Together…” Steve repeats. The three of them, like it used to be.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s smile is so full of confidence, full of hope. “I really think we can make it this time.”

His brightness is contagious, seeping through the edges of Steve’s doubt. That, too, is like it used to be. A self-proclaimed cynic as a teenager, but Eddie had never once come across that way to Steve. To him, Eddie had only ever seemed an endless blaze of optimism. His hope was his defiance, his way of saying, This world sucks, but not to me; I refuse. Steve had forgotten just how inspiring that is.

He's divided now. Torn between Eddie's infectious energy, the hope and want that form an ache in his chest, and the part of his mind that's still clinging to its programming, the part that feels duty bound to remain responsible, practical. The good kid, the perfect worker, the devil on his shoulder masquerading as an angel. It has one more protest to make. “But I can’t just leave. My life is here, my job…”

“This life is killing you. You know that as well as I do.” Eddie does touch him now, taking Steve’s face in both hands. “The light’s all gone from your pretty eyes. Please let me see if I can help you bring it back.”

The warmth of Eddie’s hands on his face spreads through his entire body, and Steve’s choice is made. Maybe it’s crazy, maybe they’re just as doomed now as they were all those years ago, but Steve has been woken up from his numbness, made to remember emotion again, all the good and the bad, and he thinks maybe with Eddie he can start to relearn to feel a bit more of the good. “Okay,” he says finally. “I’ll pack a bag. I’ll call Robin.”

Eddie grins brighter than ever then and kisses him, and Steve knows he’s made the right decision.

#and they all live happily ever after yayyy #yes this was loosely inspired by the gilmore girls episode where jess yells at rory for dropping out of yale lmao #steddiebingo2025 #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #mine

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hyuneflix · 5 months ago

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love-coded.exe

a hacker group, comprised of five members, has their world changed when a glitch leads to y/n joining their private chat. gn!reader.

-ˋˏ Intro 0.1: entering the abyss ᝰ.ᐟ

are you still watching? << exit // continue watching >>

optional extra:

How you'd gone from eagerly tapping the link that promised you discounted bubble tea to a mysterious app page, you just weren't sure. You were very confident you'd followed the instructions to a T; after all, you weren't about to risk losing out on the precious offer you'd worked so hard to attain. Something wasn't quite right with the page you lazily scanned, though. It didn't look at all like the usual pastel aesthetic KK boba committed to.

Filled with absolute certainty that you'd clicked the right link and having read the highlighted text that promised you'd claim your prize once you'd downloaded the app, you decided it was worth a shot. After all, how unsafe could it be? The page mimicked that of the iOS app store, so much so that it was surely the very same. Granted, if you'd spent even a little longer taking in the fine details of the page, you might've been alerted to some things that seemed out of place. Even taking the time to read the text would've indicated that the app was definitely not a collaboration with your favourite drink franchise, but you were far too fixated on the promise of discounted boba to take precautions.

Without further thought, you tapped the download button, watching as the usual iOS download page was replaced by an unfamiliar one. The progress bar looked far more like a Windows interface than your iphone's, and it suddenly became apparent that this had surely not been the real app store after all. The sight was enough to have your brows scrunching together in confusion, eyes widening in a slight panic, and fingers tapping the screen in an effort to cancel the installation. However, no matter how many times you tapped--nor the urgency with which you did so--the download continued.

You tried to close the app, the phone wouldn't budge. You tried to switch your phone off, no luck. You turned your wifi and data off, but still nothing. A frustrated, panicked squeal left your lips as you awaited your definite fate. A fate that practically counted down as you watched the download bar fill up quickly.

Download complete the screen flashed before your new application opened with a sporadic sequence of vibrations. It didn't take you long to realise that the sudden vibrating seemed to match the warning that flashed across the top of your screen. You had no time to react before a terminal opened, text darting across the blackened interface as some form of AI named "SECURITY BOT" took over.

You'd been panicked before, but the thought of a bot taking over your phone sent a new wave of anxious urgency washing over you. Once again, your fingers tapped hastily atop the screen, hoping that something, anything you did, would be enough.

You have successfully been cleared were the words that caught your attention, slicing through your nervousness with a fresh blossoming of confusion. Cleared? For what? That was a good thing, right? Just as quickly as the security bot had arrived, it disappeared, revealing a page that filled you with a simmering of relief. No longer were you being bombarded by security entries or warning prompts, and though you'd been offered no answers to your prior questions, you felt your panic die down all the same.

In front of you a profile creation page took up your attention. It was simple, not requiring much from you but a username and a profile photo. On one hand, you couldn't help but question why KK boba would require you to go to such great lengths to claim your prize. At most you'd expected to be taken to a Google form where the relevant details would allow the cafe to add the coupon to your customer account. Yet here you were, choosing one of your recent photographs and coming up with the first username you could think of to join what you could only assume was a customer group chat.

That didn't sound right; nothing about this situation felt right. Yet, you realised that at this point, the only way you were going to get any answers was by joining the chat. With a great deal of reluctance, you pressed the animated button, breath catching in your throat as you watched the screen fade to black.

A/N: hi! thank you so much for making it this far :)

I'm debuting my new account with this very series. I've released all of the intro chapters together so if you're reading this, they should be up and available for you. I am planning to release the first series when it is finished, which could take a while. right now, you can hit me up to be added to the series tag list or turn on notifications.

I know this post is probably a little laggy due to there being so many gifs; the other posts won't be like that. however, the last post may possibly be the same. If this is an issue that doesn't allow you guys to view the posts properly please let me know!

this is a long A/N so apologies for that! i hope you're as excited for this project as i am. see yous when series one is completed <3

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phantomrose96 · 1 year ago

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Hey not to go all "tumblr is a professional networking site" on you, but how did you get to work for Microsoft??? I'm a recent grad and I'm being eviscerated out here trying to apply for industry jobs & your liveblogging about your job sounds so much less evil than Data Entry IT Job #43461

This place is basically LinkedIn to me.

I'm gonna start by saying I am so so very sorry you're a recent grad in the year 2024... Tech job market is complete ass right now and it is not just you. I started fulltime in 2018, and for 2018-2022 it was completely normal to see a yearly outflow of people hopping to new jobs and a yearly inflow of new hires. Then sometime around late-spring/early-summer of 2022 Wallstreet sneezed the word "recession" and every tech company simultaneously shit themselves.

Tons of layoffs happened, meaning you're competing not just with new grads but with thousands of experienced workers who got shafted by their company. My org squeaked by with a small amount of layoffs (3 people among ~100), but it also means we have not hired anyone new since mid-2022. And where I used to see maybe 4-8 people yearly leave in order to hop to a new job, I think I've seen 1 person do that in the whole last year and a half.

All this to say it's rough and I can't just say "send applications and believe in yourself :)".

I have done interviews though. (I'm not involved in resume screening though, just the interviews of candidates who made it past the screening phase.) So I have at least some relevant advice, as well as second-hand knowledge from other people I know who've had to hop jobs or get hired recently.

If you have friends already in industry who you feel comfortable asking, reach out to them. Most companies have a recommendation process where a current employee fills out a little form that says "yeah I'd recommend such-and-such for this job." These do seem to carry weight, since it's coming from a trusted internal person and isn't just one of the hundreds of cold-call applications they've received.

A lot of tech companies--whether for truly well-intentioned reasons or to just check a checkbox--are on the lookout for increasing employee diversity. If you happen to have anything like, for example, "member of my college Latino society", it's worth including on your resume among your technical skills and technical projects.

I would add "you're probably gonna have to send a lot of applications" as a bullet point but I'm sure you're already doing that. But here it is as a bullet point anyway.

(This is kind of a guess, since it's part of the resume screening) but if you can dedicate some time to getting at least passingly familiar with popular tech/stacks for the positions you're looking into, try doing that in your free time so you can list it on your resume. Even better if you make a project you can point to. Like if you're aiming for webdev, get familiar with React and probably NodeJS. On top of being comfortable in one of the all-purpose languages like C(++) or Java or Python.

If you get to the interview phase - a company that is good to work for WILL care that you're someone who's good to work with. A tech-genius who's a coworker-hating egotistical snob is a nuisance at best and a liability at worst for companies with even a half-decent culture. When I do interviews, "Is this someone who's a good culture fit?" is as important as the technical skills. You'll want to show you'll be a perfectly pleasant, helpful, collaborative coworker. If the company DOESN'T care about that... bullet dodged.

For the technical questions, I care more about the thought process than I do the right answer, especially for entry-level. If you show a capacity for asking good, insightful clarifying questions, an ability to break down the problem, explain your thought process, and backtrack&alter your approach upon realizing something won't work, that's all more important than just being able to spit out a memorized leetcode answer. (I kinda hate leetcode for this reason, and therefore I only ask homebrewed questions, because I don't want the technical portion to hinge at all on whether someone managed to memorize the first 47 pages of leetcode problems). For a new hire, the most important impression you can give me is that you have a technical grasp and that you're capable of learning. Because a new hire isn't going to be an expert in anything, but they're someone who's capable of learning the ropes.

That's everything I have off the top of my head. Good luck anon. I'm very sorry you were born during a specific range of years that made you a new grad in 2024 and I hope it gets better.

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what-even-is-thiss · 1 year ago

Note

Out of curiosity, as someone else also in job search hell, what tipped you off about the job posting being a scam?

They emailed me back to set up an interview and the email was using a gmail account and asked me to do an interview via instant message. I elected to go through with the interview anyways to check it out and they asked me to fill out a job application via Google forms and the guy supposedly doing the interview was nowhere to be found on LinkedIn or the company website. I also went to the company website to see if they were hiring for data entry specialists and they weren’t. The interviewer was also way too fast to say they would hire me. They said they’ll mail me a check to cover the cost of equipment I’ll need for the job and going by reports by people in similar circumstances any check they mail me will likely be fraudulent. The pay they were hiring was also way too good suspiciously good. And the guy interviewing me had bad grammar. And combined with everything else that was suspicious.

Needless to say if they send me a check I won’t be cashing it or sending them any money back. Nor am I expecting any emails from any supervisors later this week.

I’ve done more research on it now. Only do job interviews via zoom or in person and don’t trust people with gmail addresses.

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ssbponetwork · 7 months ago

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marsberrysoda · 10 days ago

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SOTM has confirmed Tales from the Pizzaplex is NOT canon

...and what that means– especially for GGY

SOTM has revealed a few things that are... interesting, and very inconsistent with the TFTP series. I've slept on my thoughts and figured out what I think is going on here.

Maaaajor big big spoilers below the cut!! You've been warned

Secret of the Mimic shows us some things that aren't consistent with the books, and there's one major detail that's changed; Fiona's death. In the story 'The Mimic', it's stated that she passed away during childbirth:

In SOTM... this is not the case. She was alive while David was, and passed away during Fallfest– I presume it to be a fire because of all of the smaller hints at this being the case, but also this specific part of MOON.exe (excuse the Dawko in the corner lmao)

A burned seamstress shop– and what was Fiona?

A seamstress. It's also directly stated that she designed Chica and we find a sewing kit as a collectable, so it makes sense that she was behind the costumes at MCM while Murray was behind the mechanical side of things. For that reason, the burnt down seamstress shop points in the direction there was a fire at fallfest; let's also not forget the burning carousel level of Help Wanted 2 (excuse the poor quality, I could only find one image of this on short notice)

The other evidence as to this is all in audio logs so I'd have to look through footage again to find them, so maybe I'll add this post later if needed.

The mimic began mimicking Fiona after her death, and seemingly did not do so before fallfest– so it wasn't the Mimic the whole time, or anything like that. There are differences in how the Mimic as Fiona and Fiona herself talk, mostly how the Mimic lacks the same amount of emotion (in both Mimic1/MXES machine and Mimic2 form)

The seemingly canon ending of the game has the Mimic leave the MCM facility with the data diver, then walk away from it– not back to it. This is inconsistent with how the Mimic is taken by Fazbear Entertainment in the books, too. I think they definitely get their hands on it eventually, but it's another important point that things happen differently here than they do in the Tales books.

So what gives? What's up with this? Why does it matter? To put it simply, I think Scott realised most people really do not like the implications of the books. I think they are being retconned on purpose. I believe there are things in the books that are VERY important for us to think about, but we can't trust every single detail– much like the novel trilogy before it.

I believe Scott and Steel Wool are using the next few fnaf games to explain things in the books that are relevant to the story. To align them with canon in ways people can't deny and take out any details that don't fit the story they're trying to tell.

These relevant things are The Mimic and GGY.

We have gotten plenty of content on the Mimic now, to the point we know nearly every detail prior to its first game appearance in RUIN; sure, The Storyteller and Tiger Rock now have shaky details since we can't say what is 100% canon or isn't... however.

GGY is what we know the least about, but from what we DO know, it is connected to The Storyteller, to the animatronics, to everything we don't understand prior to Security Breach and post Help Wanted that involved the Mimic anyway. So yes, a GGY game could fill in those blanks for the Mimic AND for GGY. We have had multiple hints to GGY in one way or another in recent entries to the franchise post-SB, too; for examples:

Faz-Pilot Gregory in FIS3 that specifically has CDs in the boss fight to mirror patient 46 (who is theorised by everyone at this point to be GGY),

the GGY achievement in Help Wanted 2 for getting a high score,

this dialogue from Into The Pit,

and of course, the recent release of Escape the Pizzaplex– a choose-your-own-adventure book that appears to be focused on GGY tormenting Cassie.

TL;DR: Tales from the Pizzaplex appears to be non-canon to the games timeline. Rather, it's its own timeline, much like the novel trilogy and movies. Many of the details can still be used to theorise, but it's hard to call some things fact.

There's now mountains of evidence towards GGY getting a game, the very next game quite possibly, that may also serve to explain how the Mimic1 affects the Pizzaplex and what is going on with Mimic2 in the sinkhole beneath it while it's at it.

We've lost, but won? Depending on how you feel about the books, I suppose. I don't think this necessarily decanonises characters like Lucia, for starters– I think the games are just rewriting some of the details to better suit a narrative.

If I'm missing any details or I have something wrong, please be nice to me in the replies and reblogs. I don't use my brain for fnaf theories very often and I'm not looking to make people angry or upset!! But, I do think it's important we think about this.

#sotm spoilers #fnaf #fnaf sotm #tftp #ggy #the mimic #mars.txt #thoughts #theories

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