#Lean Project Management Software

[mudassir-iqbal]

Agile Mindset vs Agile Ceremonies: What’s the Difference?

In the world of software development and project management, Agile has become a widely adopted methodology. However, many teams misunderstand its true essence. Recently, during a coaching session, I noticed a common pattern: teams were religiously following Agile ceremonies—daily stand-ups, sprint planning, reviews—yet they were not achieving the desired results. Why Is Agile Not Working for…

[enhaflixer]

campus crush!sunghoon x f!reader

stats class. keep ur glasses on when u fuck me. statistical analysis with ur tongue. thats abt it. sunghoon word porn ngl ENHA HARD HOURS (kinda) 18+ MDNI

-

You're late. Again.

The digital clock on your phone reads 3:10 PM as you sprint across campus, your backpack bouncing against your spine with each step. Statistics seminar started ten minutes ago, and Professor Clarke has definitely noticed your absence by now. Not that it's unusual—you've made it a habit to burst through those doors at exactly ten minutes past, a whirlwind of apologies and bright smiles.

"Sorry, sorry!" you announce as you push open the computer lab door, slightly out of breath.

Twenty pairs of eyes swivel toward you, but Professor Clarke doesn't even look up from his laptop at the front of the room.

"How kind of you to join us," he says dryly. "We were just assigning semester project partners."

You flash him your most charming smile as you slide into an empty seat. "Perfect timing then."

A few people laugh. You've mastered the art of diffusing tension with humor, of making your tardiness seem like a quirky character trait rather than a genuine inability to manage time. It's gotten you this far in university.

"As I was saying," Professor Clarke continues, "this statistical analysis project will count for forty percent of your grade. You and your assigned partner will select a dataset, develop a hypothesis, and use STATA to analyze your findings." He gestures to the complex statistical software displayed on the projector screen—the same software that has been giving you nightmares since week one.

You glance around the room, hoping you'll be paired with Olivia or Zara—friends who wouldn't mind carrying the team if necessary. But when Professor Clarke reads off, "Sunghoon Park and..." followed by your name, your heart does something unexpected.

It skips.

You've noticed him before—it's hard not to. He always sits in the same spot three rows from the front, always arrives fifteen minutes early, always has his notebook open at the exact moment class begins.

What you haven't fully appreciated until now, as you turn to locate him in the room, is just how devastatingly handsome he is. His dark eyes find yours immediately behind stylish wire-rimmed glasses that give him an irresistible intellectual appeal. One corner of his perfectly shaped mouth lifts in the smallest acknowledgment, and a strand of black hair falls across his forehead when he nods at you. The combination of his reserved demeanor and model-worthy looks creates an effect that makes your stomach flip. He's the definition of a hot nerd—the kind that makes you temporarily forget about statistical analysis altogether and wonder what he'd look like with those glasses slightly askew, his usually perfect hair disheveled.

After partnering announcements finish, Professor Clarke instructs everyone to move next to their assigned partners to discuss project ideas.

You gather your things and make your way to Sunghoon's station, dropping into the chair beside him with dramatic flair.

"Fair warning," you say brightly, "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with this software. Like, none. Zero. Statistical analysis to me is deciding which café has the shortest queue."

You expect a sigh or a look of disappointment—it's what most serious students do when they realize they've been paired with you. Instead, Sunghoon's expression softens.

"It's okay," he says quietly, his voice carrying just a hint of an accent. "I'm... not an expert either."

"But you always look so focused during class," you say, gesturing to his immaculate notes.

He shrugs, the movement slight and controlled. "I write everything down. Doesn't mean I understand it all."

When he opens the STATA program and navigates through a few screens with apparent ease, you lean closer.

"Okay, so you're being modest. You definitely know more than I do."

"Barely," he admits, and you catch the faintest hint of a smile—not the polite one from before, but something genuine that makes you want to see it again. "I just know how to make it look like I know what I'm doing."

"That's an important life skill," you laugh, pulling your chair closer to see his screen better. "So what kind of data are we analyzing? Please say something fun like ice cream consumption versus happiness levels."

Sunghoon doesn't laugh, but his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. "Actually," he says, "we can choose almost anything that interests us."

You bump his shoulder lightly with yours. "See? We're going to be great partners. I bring the wild ideas, you bring the common sense."

"Is that what they call it?" he asks, and there's a hint of playfulness in his voice that catches you off guard.

"What would you call it?" you challenge.

He considers for a moment, adjusting his glasses with a single finger pushed against the bridge. The gesture shouldn't be as attractive as it is. "Survival instinct."

You laugh, genuinely surprised. "So I'm dangerous?"

"No," he says, turning slightly to face you better. "Statistical software is dangerous. You're..." he pauses, seeming to search for the right word, "unpredictable."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one." The quiet confidence in his voice sends a small thrill through you.

Professor Clarke clears his throat at the front of the room. "I expect project proposals by the end of next week. Choose your dataset carefully—it will determine the scope of your entire project."

You glance at the clock. Only fifteen minutes of class remain.

"So, partner," you say, lowering your voice as Professor Clarke continues, "when should we meet to figure this out? I promise I'll try not to be ten minutes late."

Sunghoon's mouth quirks up at one corner. "Would you actually show up if I said 8 AM at the library?"

"Now you're just testing me," you whisper back.

"Coffee shop after class on Thursday?" he suggests instead, his voice equally quiet. "The one behind the science building?"

"Beans & Books? You've got good taste." You nod approvingly. "I practically live there between classes."

"I know," he says, then immediately looks as if he wishes he could take it back.

"You know?" You raise an eyebrow, intrigued and slightly pleased.

A faint color appears high on his cheekbones. "I've seen you there. You always order something different and then type furiously on your laptop."

The fact that he's noticed you before, observed your habits even, gives you a little flutter of satisfaction. "And what do you order, Sunghoon Park? Let me guess—plain black coffee, no sugar."

His eyebrows lift slightly. "Close. Earl Grey tea."

"Of course," you nod sagely. "Sophisticated."

When class ends, you gather your things slowly, suddenly reluctant to leave. Sunghoon stands, slinging his messenger bag across his chest in one smooth motion.

"Thursday, then," he says, as if confirming an important business meeting.

"It's a date," you reply with deliberate casualness, watching his reaction.

His expression remains mostly neutral, but you don't miss the quick blink, the slight pause before he nods. "For statistics," he clarifies, but the slight upturn of his lips betrays him.

"For statistics," you agree solemnly, though you're already wondering what other subjects you might explore together.

The coffee shop meeting goes surprisingly well. What you expected to be an hour of awkward dataset discussions turns into three hours of conversation that meanders far beyond statistics. Sunghoon, it turns out, has layers beneath his reserved exterior—he plays piano, reads philosophy for fun, and has a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard and makes you laugh harder than you have in weeks.

By the end of the evening, you've not only selected your dataset (coffee consumption versus academic performance—your suggestion, which he surprisingly agreed to), but you've also learned that his stammer appears when he's either nervous or passionate about a topic. You find both instances equally endearing.

When Friday's class rolls around, something shifts. You arrive only five minutes late (progress), and the space beside Sunghoon, which is usually empty, now seems to be waiting for you. You slide into the seat and he glances up from his notebook, the corner of his mouth lifting in that subtle way that's becoming familiar.

"You're almost on time," he says quietly, amusement in his eyes.

"Don't get used to it," you reply, but there's no bite to your words.

Throughout the class, your awareness of him is heightened—the way his brow furrows when he's concentrating, how his fingers tap thoughtfully against the desk when Professor Clarke asks a difficult question, the scent of his cologne when he leans closer to point something out on your screen.

After class, you find yourself hesitating as you pack up your things, watching as he meticulously organizes his notes.

"So," you begin, aiming for casual, "I was thinking... we should probably meet again this weekend to work on the project." You pause. "My roommate's gone for the weekend. We could use my dorm? Fewer distractions than the coffee shop."

Sunghoon looks up, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nods. "That would be... efficient."

You laugh at his choice of words. "Very statistical of you."

"I meant—" he starts, a hint of that stammer appearing.

"I know what you meant," you interrupt, grinning. "Saturday at four?"

He nods, adjusting his glasses. "I'll bring the data analysis. You bring the coffee."

"Deal."

Saturday arrives, and for the first time in your university career, you spend thirty minutes tidying your room before a study session. You tell yourself it's just basic courtesy, not because you care what Sunghoon thinks of your living space.

At precisely four o'clock, there's a knock at your door. Punctual as always.

You open it to find Sunghoon standing there in jeans and a simple button-down shirt, his laptop bag slung across his body. He's swapped his usual wire-frames for slightly thicker black glasses that somehow make him look even more attractive—scholarly but with an edge.

"You're making me look bad with this punctuality thing," you say by way of greeting, stepping aside to let him in.

"Sorry?" he offers, clearly unsure if he's actually done something wrong.

You laugh. "I'm joking. Come in."

Your dorm room is standard—bed, desk, small seating area with a loveseat and coffee table—but you've made it yours with art on the walls and plants on every available surface. Sunghoon takes it all in with curious eyes.

"I like your space," he says, and it sounds genuine.

"Thanks. Where should we set up? Desk or coffee table?"

"Either is fine," he says, that formal politeness still present even after your hours in the coffee shop.

You end up at the coffee table, sitting side by side on the loveseat, laptops open. For an hour, you actually make progress on the project. Sunghoon explains correlations in a way that finally makes sense, and you discover you have a talent for visualizing data in creative ways that makes his eyes light up with approval.

But as the afternoon wears on, the small space means your shoulders keep brushing, your knees occasionally touch, and each point of contact feels increasingly deliberate. When you reach for your coffee at the same moment he reaches for his tea, your hands collide, and neither of you pulls away immediately.

"Sorry," you both say at once, and then laugh.

"Great minds," you add, but you're distracted by how his eyes look behind those glasses, warm and focused entirely on you.

At some point, you shift positions, both of you turning toward each other to discuss a particularly complicated aspect of your analysis. Your knees are definitely touching now, and the loveseat suddenly seems much smaller than it did an hour ago.

"So if we compare these variables..." he's saying, but you're watching his mouth form the words more than listening to their meaning.

"Hmm?" you say, forcing your attention back to the screen.

He turns to look at you fully, and you realize how close your faces are. "You're not listening," he says, but there's no accusation in his voice.

"I'm distracted," you admit.

"By statistics?"

"By you."

The words hang in the air between you. Sunghoon blinks, his expression shifting from confusion to something more intense. He swallows visibly, and you watch the movement in his throat.

"I'm... distracting?" he asks, his voice lower than before.

"Extremely." Your eyes lock on his glasses, the way they frame his dark eyes, how they complete his devastatingly attractive intellectual look. "Especially with these on."

His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. "The glasses?"

"God, yes," you breathe, moving closer. "You have no idea how fucking hot you look in them."

A flush spreads across his cheeks, but there's a new confidence in the way he holds your gaze. Without warning, he pulls you forward into a kiss that has nothing of his usual restraint. His laptop slides forgotten to the coffee table as you shift closer, and then somehow you're straddling his lap, your hands on either side of his face as you deepen the kiss.

When you break apart to breathe, his glasses are slightly askew. You straighten them gently, then run your fingers through his usually immaculate hair, deliberately messing it up while keeping the glasses perfectly in place.

"You're so sexy," you murmur against his mouth. "I've been thinking about this since the first day we were paired up."

His hands find your hips, holding you firmly against him. "I find that... statistically improbable," he manages, but his breathing is as uneven as yours.

"I'll show you improbable," you whisper, grinding down deliberately. His glasses fog slightly from the heat between you, and the sight sends a thrill through your body. "So fucking hot," you repeat, unable to stop yourself.

His hands slide beneath your shirt, exploring with a surprising boldness that makes you gasp. "We should—" he starts, breathing heavily.

“Yes,” you agree, already pulling him up from the loveseat, walking backwards toward your bed while keeping his mouth on yours. “The project can definitely wait.”

You fall back onto the mattress, pulling him down with you, careful not to knock his glasses off as he hovers above you. They’ve fogged again from the heat between your bodies, and something about that sight—this controlled, precise man coming undone while still looking every bit the hot intellectual—pushes you past any remaining hesitation.

“Leave them on,” you insist when he reaches to remove his glasses. “Please.”

His lips curve into a smile that’s nothing like his usual restrained expressions—this one is knowing, almost wicked. “If that’s what you want,” he murmurs, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“It’s definitely what I want,” you gasp as his teeth graze your skin. “Along with… everything else.”

There’s a playful air to each touch, a slow building of tension as you both start to peel away layers. You tug at the hem of his shirt first, sliding it up inch by tantalizing inch until he lifts his arms to help you pull it off. He returns the favor by slipping a hand under your blouse, fingertips teasing over your ribs. Every time he tries to hasten the pace, you grin and slow him down, dragging the fabric just a bit more before letting it fall away, leaving him momentarily breathless. The sound he makes—caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh—sends a thrill through you.

Time seems to blur as clothing is discarded piece by piece, inhibitions falling away with each new revelation of skin. The afternoon sunlight filters through your curtains, casting everything in a warm glow.

At some point, you find yourself above him, both of you completely bare except for his glasses, which have somehow remained perfectly in place despite everything. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him beneath you—all lean muscle and flushed skin, those wire-rimmed glasses still perched on his nose, slightly fogged from the heat between your bodies.

“You’re staring,” he whispers, a vulnerability in his voice despite the intimate position.

“Can you blame me?” You lean down, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, then another, and another, each one growing more insistent. “God, look at you.”

His hands find your hips, steadying you as you continue to kiss him, his glasses occasionally bumping against your face in a way that only heightens your desire. There's something impossibly erotic about him being completely naked except for those glasses—the contrast between his exposed body and that one remnant of his studious, put-together appearance.

"You're so fucking sexy," you breathe against his mouth. "How does anyone focus in that statistics class with you sitting there looking like this?"

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. "I could ask you the same question."

Your kisses become more urgent, your bodies moving together with increasing need. The heat between you builds with each touch, each whispered encouragement. Sunghoon's usually careful movements grow bolder, more instinctive, as your hands explore each other's bodies. His glasses, still perfectly perched on his nose, begin to fog at the edges first—just a light mist that catches the dim light of your room. But as your passion intensifies, as your breathing grows more ragged and synchronized, the lenses cloud completely.

When you pull back to look at him, you can't help but laugh softly at the sight—this brilliantly composed man now completely blinded by the evidence of your shared desire, those glasses that make him look so irresistibly intellectual now rendered useless by the heat radiating between your bodies. To your surprise, he laughs too—not the polite chuckle you've heard in class or the soft amusement from your coffee shop conversations, but a genuine, uninhibited sound that seems to come from somewhere deep inside him. It's rich and warm and completely unguarded.

"I can't see a thing," he admits, his voice husky with desire and amusement. His hands find your face despite his temporary blindness, thumbs tracing your cheekbones with unexpected precision. "But I don't need to see to know exactly where you are."

"Is that so?" you challenge, your breath catching as his fingers trail down your neck, across your collarbone, mapping you with deliberate attention.

"I've been studying you," he murmurs, his touch making you shiver despite the heat between you. "Memorizing. Analyzing patterns." His hands continue their exploration, finding every sensitive spot with remarkable accuracy. "It's very... statistical."

You laugh against his mouth. "Only you could make statistics sound sexy."

Through the fogged lenses, you can just barely make out how his eyes darken at your words. "I have other statistical terms I could demonstrate," he offers, surprising you again with his boldness. His accent becomes slightly more pronounced when he's like this—another detail you've grown to cherish.

"Show me," you whisper, and he does—his hands and mouth conducting a thorough analysis of cause and effect, of stimuli and response, until you're clutching at his shoulders and gasping his name. All while those fogged-up glasses remain perfectly in place, the final vestige of his composed exterior while everything else between you unravels into glorious chaos.

You’re already bare beneath him, skin flushed from teasing and anticipation, but the only thing still clinging to his body—those damn glasses—make it so much worse. Or better. Definitely better.

Sunghoon hovers over you, gaze dark behind the lenses, lips swollen and slightly parted as he takes in the sight of you. You should be embarrassed at how wanton you must look, legs spread for him, body already trembling, but he’s the one who looks wrecked. His composure is gone, shattered somewhere between the desperate kisses and the way you dragged your nails down his back.

His lips quirk. “Still want me to leave them on?”

“Don’t even think about taking them off.”

His smile turns wicked, and then he’s moving—kissing, sucking, trailing his mouth down your body with purpose. His fingers dig into your thighs, spreading you wider, and then he’s right there—close enough that you can feel the ghost of his breath against you, the heat of it making your stomach clench.

He doesn’t start slow. No teasing, no light flicks of his tongue just to test the waters. Sunghoon eats you like he’s been starving for this, like he’s been waiting for the moment he could taste you, drown in you. His tongue is hot and relentless, curling against you just right, pressing where you need him most, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body.

But what really undoes you is the feeling of his glasses pressing against your inner thighs, the cold metal contrasting with the heat of his mouth. Every time he moves, every time he adjusts his angle, the frames shift against your skin—slightly rough, slightly smooth, a reminder of exactly who is between your legs and how absolutely ruined he’s making you.

You fist the sheets, hips jerking up into his mouth, but he pins you down effortlessly, a strong arm wrapped around your thigh to keep you exactly where he wants you. He groans when you tug at his hair, the vibrations shooting through you, making you gasp his name.

“Fuck, Sunghoon—”

His response is a low hum against your clit, and your whole body shakes. You feel the damp heat of his breath, the slick slide of his tongue, but more than anything, you feel the weight of those goddamn glasses as they drag along your skin, fogging up even more, smudging against your inner thigh every time he moves deeper, harder, sloppier.

The sheer filth of it makes you clench around nothing.

Sunghoon notices, because of course he does—because he’s been studying you this whole time, memorizing what makes you gasp, what makes your thighs tremble around his head. And he’s smug about it, too, because when he pulls back just enough to glance up at you, lips glistening, glasses just barely slipping down his nose, he smirks.

“You like that, don’t you?” His voice is raspy, breathless, wrecked.

You don’t even try to deny it. “Yes—God, yes, don’t stop.”

Sunghoon’s smirk deepens, and he doesn’t make you beg for it. He dives right back in, tongue flicking, sucking, his grip on your thighs tightening as you lose yourself completely. The drag of his glasses, the precise way he adjusts his angle to push you higher, the way he groans into you like he’s getting off on this just as much as you are—it’s too much.

The coil in your stomach snaps hard, pleasure crashing over you so intensely that you barely realize you’re pulling at his hair, moaning his name like a prayer, like you might fall apart completely if he stops.

Sunghoon doesn’t stop. Not right away. He works you through the aftershocks, his tongue slow, methodical, lazy in a way that makes you shudder from overstimulation. Only when your body twitches beneath him does he finally pull away, chin glistening, glasses fucking ruined.

You’re still gasping when he crawls back up your body, hovering over you, his mouth right there, his glasses so close you can see the way they’re fogged-up and smudged with sweat.

When you finally collapse beside each other, spent and satisfied, his glasses are askew once more. You reach over to straighten them, and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm.

"So," you say, when you've caught your breath, "should we tell Professor Clarke we've found an interesting correlation to study?"

Sunghoon laughs, the sound free and unrestrained in a way you hadn't heard before today. "I don't think this is what he had in mind for the assignment."

"His loss," you murmur, snuggling closer. "I'd say our statistical analysis was very... thorough."

"We should probably actually work on the project at some point," he says, but makes no move to get up.

"Tomorrow," you promise, running a finger along his jawline. "I think we need to collect more data first."

His eyebrow raises above the rim of his glasses. "For the sake of academic integrity?"

"Absolutely," you agree solemnly, before dissolving into laughter.

The statistics of probability have never been so compelling.

-

Over the next few weeks, your statistics class takes on an entirely new dimension. What was once your least favorite part of the week has become the highlight—not because you've suddenly developed a passion for data analysis, but because of the subtle dance that unfolds between you and Sunghoon twice a week in that computer lab.

The Monday after your "study session," you arrive to class five minutes early—a personal record. Sunghoon is already there, of course, and the moment he sees you, his ears turn slightly pink. When you slide into the seat next to him, now officially your spot, he gives you a small smile that feels like a secret.

"You're early," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"I had motivation," you reply, letting your knee brush against his under the desk.

His eyes flicker to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to his notebook. "I hope it wasn't just for... statistical analysis."

"Depends on how you define statistics," you whisper just as Professor Clarke calls the class to order.

Throughout the lecture, you're acutely aware of every movement Sunghoon makes—how he adjusts his glasses when he's thinking, the precise way he takes notes, the occasional glance he throws your way when he thinks you're not looking. Halfway through class, you deliberately drop your pen between you. When you both reach for it, your fingers touch, and he doesn't pull away. Instead, he hooks his pinky finger over yours for just a moment before handing you the pen. The small gesture sends a flutter through your chest.

After class, you walk together to the coffee shop without needing to discuss it. Somehow, it's already become your routine.

"How's the dataset compilation going?" he asks as you find a small table in the corner.

"That's what you want to talk about right now? Really?" You raise an eyebrow.

A faint smile plays at his lips. "We do have a project due in three weeks."

"Always so responsible," you sigh dramatically, but there's fondness in your voice. "It's going fine. I've got the coffee consumption survey data from about fifty students so far."

He nods approvingly. "That's a decent sample size for our purposes."

When your drinks arrive—his Earl Grey and your excessively complicated latte—you notice something different about him. He's still quiet, still thoughtful, but there's a new ease to his movements, a softness around his eyes when he looks at you.

"What?" he asks, catching you studying him.

"Nothing," you say, then reconsider. "Actually, not nothing. You seem... different."

He takes a sip of his tea, considering. "I feel different," he admits after a moment. "With you."

The simple sincerity of his words catches you off guard. For all your flirtatious confidence, his straightforward honesty disarms you completely.

"Good different?" you ask, suddenly feeling shy.

"Very good different," he confirms, and beneath the table, his foot rests against yours. Not by accident.

By the third week, you've fallen into patterns that blend the academic with the intimate. Your Tuesday and Thursday afternoons are devoted to actual project work—usually in the library where the public setting keeps you reasonably focused. 

Your Saturday “study sessions” in your dorm room are significantly less productive in the statistical sense, though you joke that you’re certainly collecting plenty of data on other variables.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes every time you say it, but you know he loves it—loves how eager, how shameless you are when it comes to him. Because every time you spread your legs for him, every time you drag him into another compromising position, he never tells you no.

Case Study #1: The Textbooks

It starts with an innocent enough setup—Sunghoon sitting cross-legged on the floor, back against your bed, flipping through a statistics textbook while you sit across from him, pretending to study. But it’s boring. He looks too good in his glasses, sleeves rolled up, the slightest furrow in his brow as he concentrates. And before you even realize you’re moving, you’re crawling into his lap, straddling him right there on top of the book.

He barely has time to exhale your name before you sink down onto him, making both of you groan.

The hardcover digs into your knees, the pages creasing beneath you, but you couldn’t care less. Sunghoon is buried inside you, stretching you open, warm and deep and perfect, and the only data you’re analyzing is how his breath stutters when you roll your hips just right.

“Fuck, you’re unreal—” he pants, hands gripping your waist, watching you through the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses as you use him, ride him slow, grind on him like you want to ruin him.

You do. You want to wreck him just as much as he’s wrecking you. The friction, the delicious drag, the way his hands squeeze your hips to urge you to go faster, harder—it all shreds your self-control.

By the time you both come undone, gasping and clinging to each other, the textbook beneath you is thoroughly creased, sticky, ruined. Neither of you even bother looking at it.

Case Study #2: The Desk Chair

Another Saturday, another useless attempt at studying.

Sunghoon’s seated at your desk this time, one leg lazily spread, hand bracing his forehead as he tries to focus. But you’re kneeling between his legs, and the moment you reach for his zipper, his entire body tenses.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And?” You tug his pants down just enough to free him, palming his length, watching him harden in your hand as his breathing turns shallow.

He leans back, exhaling sharply when your lips part and you take him deep. His hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, tease him, make him fall apart.

His glasses slip down his nose as he watches you, half-lidded and dazed, jaw slack as you take him deeper, sucking, hollowing your cheeks, making obscene little noises that drive him insane.

He trembles when he finally spills down your throat, groaning your name, head thrown back against the chair.

And the moment he catches his breath, he drags you into his lap, flips you onto the desk, and fucks you stupid.

Case Study #3: Against the Window

Another week. Another “study session.” Another location.

This time, you find yourself pressed against the glass of your dorm window, palms splayed, breath fogging the pane as Sunghoon pounds into you from behind.

The curtains are open.

You don’t know if anyone can see—if someone walking by on the street below can look up and spot your bare body, the lewd way you’re bent over, Sunghoon’s hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with punishing force.

But you don’t care.

All you care about is the way he grunts into your ear, his glasses slightly askew, one hand slipping down to rub your clit, making you jerk and gasp his name as pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“Keep your eyes open,” he growls, voice thick with lust, dragging his lips along your shoulder. “Look outside. Look at what a mess you are.”

Case Study #4: The Shower

It’s late, and you should be asleep. But instead, you’re pressed up against the tiled wall of your tiny dorm shower, water scalding hot, steam curling around you as Sunghoon lifts you up, holds you against him, and fucks you slow, deep.

His glasses are gone, finally.

They’d fogged up the moment he stepped into the shower, and the second you’d made a joke about it, he’d taken them off and set them on the sink. But you don’t miss them too much—not when his mouth is on your throat, sucking bruises into your wet skin, not when his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you in place as he rolls his hips into you with exquisite precision.

You come twice before you finally stumble out of the shower, exhausted, dripping, completely spent.

And the moment you walk back into your dorm room, still naked, Sunghoon picks up his glasses, slides them back on, and gives you a look that tells you he’s nowhere near finished with you.

Case Study #5: The Floor (Again, Because You Can’t Stop)

At this point, you don’t even make it to the bed.

You’re both desperate, panting, **clawing at each other like you can’t stand the idea of being apart for another second.**The moment Sunghoon pushes you onto the floor, you’re already wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down, gasping when he fills you in one smooth thrust.

It’s fast, dirty, messy.

He grits out your name, one hand bracing beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, holding you open as he slams into you, pace brutal, relentless. The carpet burns on your back will be worth it.

He loses his glasses at some point, but you don’t even notice—you’re too busy coming apart beneath him, clawing at his back, moaning his name like you’ll never get enough of him.

Maybe you won’t.

Because the second you catch your breath, still tangled up in him, you’re already thinking about where you’ll fuck next.

What surprises you most is how much you enjoy both versions of your time together. The project, which should be tedious, becomes engaging through Sunghoon's perspective. He has a way of finding patterns in chaos that makes even the driest data seem fascinating. And through your influence, he's learning to approach problems more creatively, to see beyond the rigid frameworks he's always relied on.

"What if we visualize it this way instead?" you suggest one Tuesday, sketching a completely unorthodox chart on the margin of his meticulously organized notes.

His initial reaction is skepticism—you can see it in the slight furrow of his brow—but he considers it longer than he would have three weeks ago.

"It's unconventional," he says finally.

"But?"

"But it might actually work better for presenting the correlation," he concedes, and the smile you give him is so bright it makes the student at the next table look over.

In class, Professor Clarke notices the change in both of you. Your questions become more insightful, Sunghoon's responses more animated. When you present your initial findings mid-semester, the professor actually seems impressed by your unusual approach to visualization.

"An interesting methodology," he comments, adjusting his own glasses in a way that reminds you of Sunghoon. "Unorthodox, but effective."

You beam at Sunghoon, who ducks his head slightly but can't hide his pleased expression.

After class, he catches your hand as you're packing up—a gesture he would never have initiated before.

"We make a good team," he says quietly.

"The best," you agree, squeezing his fingers before reluctantly letting go. Public displays still make him slightly uncomfortable, and you respect his boundaries.

-

It's during a rainy Friday evening in your dorm room, six weeks into your relationship (though neither of you has officially labeled it as such), that something shifts again.

You're sprawled on your bed with your laptop, Sunghoon sitting at your desk reviewing your latest statistical findings, his glasses reflecting the blue light of the screen. Classical music plays softly from his phone—another new development. He's been gradually introducing you to his favorite composers, and you've found you actually enjoy the background music while working.

"Your scatterplot is missing a data point," he says, turning to look at you.

"Mmm, probably deleted it accidentally," you reply, not looking up from your position. "Is it important?"

"All data points are important," he says, but there's amusement in his voice rather than criticism.

You roll onto your back, laptop balanced on your stomach. "That sounds like something that would be on a statistics department t-shirt. 'All data points matter.'"

He laughs—a sound that's become less rare but no less thrilling to hear. "I'd wear it."

"Of course you would," you tease. "With your glasses and a pocket protector."

He makes a face at you. "I don't own a pocket protector."

"Yet," you add with a grin.

He shakes his head, turning back to the screen, but you catch the smile he tries to hide. After a moment, he speaks again without looking at you.

"My parents want to meet you."

You sit up so quickly your laptop nearly slides off your stomach. "What?"

Now he turns, his expression a mixture of nervousness and something softer. "I mentioned you during our weekly call. Multiple times, apparently. My mother... noticed."

"You talk about me to your parents?" You can't keep the pleased surprise from your voice.

He adjusts his glasses, a gesture you now recognize as his tell when he's feeling vulnerable. "It seems I do."

"What do you tell them?" You set your laptop aside, giving him your full attention.

"That you're brilliant in ways I'm not. That you see solutions I miss." He pauses. "That you make statistics class the best part of my week."

Your heart does that skipping thing it did the first day Professor Clarke paired you together, only stronger now.

"Sunghoon Park," you say softly, "are you saying I'm statistically significant to you?"

His expression turns serious, though his eyes remain gentle. "With a p-value approaching zero," he replies, and though it's phrased as a joke, his tone makes it clear it's anything but.

In statistics, a p-value approaching zero indicates an extremely high likelihood that an observed effect is real and not due to chance. It's the closest thing to certainty that statistics allows.

You cross the room to where he sits, gently taking his face between your hands. His glasses are slightly smudged, and you resist the urge to clean them, focusing instead on the eyes behind them.

"So," you say, "when do I meet these parents who raised such a statistically significant nerd?"

He laughs, pulling you into his lap in a move that would have seemed impossibly bold from him just weeks ago. "They're visiting next weekend. Dinner on Saturday?"

"I'm there," you promise, sealing it with a kiss.

-

The day of your semester project presentation arrives with an unexpected lack of anxiety. You're prepared—more prepared than you've been for any academic presentation in your life. Partly because the subject has actually become interesting to you, but mostly because working on it meant spending hours with Sunghoon.

You stand beside him at the front of the class, watching him explain your methodology with a confidence that wasn't there at the beginning of the semester. His voice is still quiet, still measured, but there's a strength behind it now, an assurance that comes from truly understanding his material. When he gestures to your creative visualization on the screen, there's a hint of pride in his voice that makes your chest warm.

When it's your turn to present, you catch him watching you with undisguised admiration. You explain the correlations you found between different types of coffee consumption and various academic performance metrics, throwing in jokes that make the class laugh and complex statistical terms that make Professor Clarke nod approvingly.

"And in conclusion," you finish, "we found that while caffeine consumption generally correlates with improved academic performance up to a point, the type of environment in which the coffee is consumed may be an equally significant factor."

"Furthermore," Sunghoon adds, stepping forward to stand beside you, shoulder to shoulder, "we discovered that the companionship variable—whether students studied alone or with others—showed the strongest positive correlation with both satisfaction and performance outcomes."

His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, and you know he's not just talking about the data anymore.

When Professor Clarke gives your presentation an A and commends your "complementary analytical approaches," you resist the urge to high-five Sunghoon in front of everyone. Instead, you wait until you're outside the building, then throw your arms around him in celebration.

To your surprise, he lifts you slightly off the ground in his enthusiasm, spinning once before setting you down, his face flushed with excitement and mild embarrassment at his own uncharacteristic display.

"We did it," he says, adjusting his glasses which were knocked askew by your hug.

"Was there ever any doubt?" you reply, reaching up to straighten them properly. "We're statistically significant, remember?"

His smile softens, and right there on the path outside the statistics building, with students streaming past on their way to other classes, he kisses you without hesitation or self-consciousness.

"What was that for?" you ask when he pulls away, delighted but surprised by the public display.

"I've been collecting data," he says, his eyes crinkling behind those glasses you've grown to love, "and I've formed a hypothesis."

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And what hypothesis is that, Mr. Park?"

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as you begin walking toward the coffee shop that's become your place.

"That I'm in love with you," he says simply. "And unlike most statistical conclusions, I'm one hundred percent certain."

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. "That's a bold statistical claim. Absolute certainty is rare in your field."

"I have compelling evidence," he counters, and the confidence in his voice, so different from the hesitant student you met months ago, makes your heart race.

"I might need to review your data," you tease, though your voice catches slightly.

"Extensive observation over time," he begins, stepping closer. "Consistent results across multiple variables. Reproducible effects." His voice drops lower. "Significant positive impact on all quality-of-life metrics."

"Very scientific," you murmur, your hands finding their way to his chest.

"I thought so," he agrees, his eyes serious despite the playful exchange. "So my conclusion stands."

You rise on your tiptoes, pressing your forehead to his. "Well, as someone who's conducted a parallel study, I can confirm your findings. The evidence suggests I'm in love with you too."

His smile, rare and full, lights up his entire face. "Independently verified results. The best kind."

“Should we celebrate this breakthrough with coffee?” you suggest, already knowing his answer.

“I was thinking maybe we skip the coffee today,” he says, surprising you again. “I have other hypotheses I’d like to test.”

“Professor Clarke would be shocked at your dedication to statistical research,” you laugh, letting him lead you in the direction of your dorm instead of the coffee shop.

“Some variables,” he says with newfound confidence, “are worth studying in depth.”

You lean in close, pressing your lips right against the shell of his ear, and whisper the kind of filth that would make even the most shameless person blush.

“Then why don’t you pin me down the second we walk through that door, shove your face between my legs, and eat me so fucking good I forget my own name? And when I can’t take anymore, you’ll flip me over and fuck me like you’re trying to imprint yourself inside me—deep, rough, until I’m crying and drooling on the sheets, too dumb to do anything but take it.”

Sunghoon stops breathing.

You feel the exact moment your words hit him—his entire body locks up, his grip on your wrist tightens, his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear his teeth grind.

His glasses fog immediately.

A strangled noise escapes him, something between a curse and a choked groan, and then he’s moving.

Not just moving—dragging you, fast, purposeful, like a man on a mission.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, voice wrecked, dangerous, and it sends a thrill straight through you.

By the time you reach your dorm, he’s already reaching for the door handle, barely keeping himself together, and the second it clicks shut behind you—

You know he’s about to make good on every single word you just whispered.

That, by any metric, was statistically significant indeed.

-

TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @somuchdard @naurwayyyyy @bloomiize @zzhengyu @annybah @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4 @starniras @wonuziex

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[justnshalom]

Demystifying Kanban Agile: Streamline Your Workflow for Efficient Project Management

Demystifying Kanban Agile: Streamline Your Workflow for Efficient Project Management Do you find yourself overwhelmed with managing complex projects? Are you constantly struggling to maintain transparency and accountability within your team? If so, it’s time to consider Kanban Agile as your go-to project management methodology. Kanban Agile combines the principles of Kanban and Agile…

[worldsmessiestwriter]

That Killer instinct.

tw - swearing?

word count - 1,306

Tony stark x Daughter! reader

inspired by killer instinct from bring it on

——————————————————

Y/N Stark practically skipped through the door, her energy filling the space as she rushed into the workshop. Tony was hunched over a project, his tools scattered around him, but the second he heard her footsteps, he looked up with a grin, glad to see his daughter in one piece.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?” Tony asked, his voice light but tinged with that typical dad curiosity. He loved hearing about Y/N’s day.

Y/N bounced into the room, practically vibrating with excitement. “Dad! I did it!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with pride. “I’m head cheerleader now!”

Tony paused, his tools still in hand. He sat up straighter, surprised by the announcement. “Whoa, seriously? Head cheerleader? That’s awesome! I mean, I knew you’d make something happen, but this… this is next-level. You know, I was the king of the school for a reason, kid.”

She flashed him a wide grin, obviously proud of herself. “I know, right? And it was so easy, Dad. It was like everything just fell into place.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, still smiling, but curiosity tugged at him. “Tell me everything. How’d you pull it off?”

Y/N hesitated for a split second before she casually flopped down on the couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “Okay, so it started with Cameron right? She was in line to be the head cheerleader. Been working her whole life for it. But, she had that D in chemistry, and I just—well, I tweaked it. You know, a little software update here, a little school system adjustment there…”

Tony’s smile faltered as the pieces of the story began to fall into place. “Wait, you hacked the school system?”

Y/N gave him a sweet, innocent look. “Just a little thing, no harm done. Cameron had no business being captain anyway. D’s are for losers. So, I made sure she was out of the picture.”

“Y/N…” Tony began, rubbing his temple in frustration. “You can’t just mess with people’s lives like that. That’s not how you—”

She cut him off with a nonchalant wave of her hand, her voice still light and peppy. “Oh, Dad, relax. It was just a minor thing. It’s all part of the plan. Anyway, after Cameron ? I had to deal with Abbie. She thought she had it in the bag, too, but she wasn’t quite prepared for what I had up my sleeve.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “What did you do to Abbie?”

Y/N’s grin widened, a playful yet almost predatory glint in her eyes. “Well, I hired this guy… you know, give her a little gift—a lovely case of mono. Totally took her out for the week, so she couldn’t even tryout. Now guess who’s the head cheerleader?”

Tony’s jaw dropped, and for a long moment, he couldn’t find the words. His daughter, the one he’d raised and hoped would take the moral high ground, had taken a shortcut straight to the top, and it wasn’t pretty.

“You didn’t—” Tony started, but Y/N was practically gleaming now, practically glowing with pride as she continued her story.

“Yeah, I did. And now, no one’s in my way. The seniors all think I’m amazing. They kiss my ass, and I’m just sixteen! I’m the girl to beat, Dad. I’m winning.” Her voice was sugary sweet, but there was an edge to it. A fierceness that matched the deadly precision of her methods. “I’m raising hell dad, I’m totally untouchable!”

Tony stared at her, trying to process the words that were coming out of her mouth. His daughter, the head cheerleader—the head cheerleader—was a mastermind of manipulation and underhanded tactics. His thoughts raced, but all he could manage was a frustrated sigh.

“Y/N, you can’t just—this isn’t some game you can play however you want,” he said, standing up from his chair, his voice low and serious now. “You’re talking about taking down people—changing their lives, getting them sick… this isn’t how you build something. You have to earn things the right way.”

Y/N crossed her arms and kicked her legs up a bit more, a little smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Dad, I did earn it. I did whatever it took, just like you always say. Get to the top, or get out of the way. Don’t you always talk about how it’s a dog-eat-dog world? This is how the world works. If someone’s in my way, I just take ‘em out.”

Tony’s expression tightened. He could see how she justified it in her mind, but it wasn’t what he’d meant when he’d taught her to fight for what she wanted. This was more than ambition—this was ruthlessness.

“I know what I taught you,” Tony said quietly, stepping closer to her. “But there’s a difference between fighting for what you deserve and just cutting down anyone in your way to get what you want. You can’t just step on people to win, Y/N. You have to consider the cost of what you’re doing.”

Y/N’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a small flicker of doubt in her eyes. “Dad, you said it yourself—if you’re not first, you’re last. I don’t care about the cost. I care about being the best. And right now, I’m the best.”

Tony sighed again, rubbing his temples as he paced in front of her. “It’s not about being the best, kid. It’s about who you are when you get there. You can be the top dog all you want, but if you’re stepping on people to get there, what does that say about you? You won’t have anyone left when you’re at the top. That’s the cost. The price of all this ambition.” He gestured around, trying to make her see the bigger picture. “Do you really want to be known as the girl who would do anything—anything—to be at the top, no matter who you hurt?”

Y/N paused, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment as she glanced at her dad. She could see the concern in his eyes, the disappointment that was starting to show in his expression, and it gave her pause for just a second. But then the smile returned to her face, and she shrugged.

“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, Dad. I’m winning.” Her voice had a sharpness to it, one that didn’t match the cheerfulness in her tone. “This is how it’s done. And I’m ready to take on anything.”

Tony closed his eyes, swallowing his frustration. He knew she was clever—too clever for her own good sometimes. He just hoped she’d realize one day that there was more to success than simply being on top.

“Well, I guess we’ll see how long that lasts, huh?” he said, his voice softening. “But just remember: the way you get to the top will follow you. It’s not always about being the fastest, or the strongest… it’s about being the right kind of person.”

Y/N grinned, clearly unbothered, and shrugged once again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dad. But right now, I’m the head cheerleader, and that’s all that matters.”

Tony’s heart sank, but he gave her a small, resigned smile. “Yeah, you sure are kid.” He turned back to his workbench, feeling both proud and disappointed in the same breath.

——————————————————

i’m on a roll with the musical songfics guys be proud to be fair i’ve been writing these over the past week im not that fast of a writer 🙏😭

[milesluna]

My Favorite Games of 2023.

Hi. Hello. Thanks ever so much for clicking on this page. Happy to have you.

First thing's first: I'm a little freak when it comes to video games. I don't feel the need to beat most games I play. From Software is one of my favorite studios in the industry and I've never finished a single one of their games. This means, fortunately, that I get to play a LOT more games than the average bear.

I've written up some blurbs about my top ten favorite games from 2023, but before that here's the list of every game I remember playing this year that left any sort of lasting impact on me (in no particular order):

Dead Space Remake Resident Evil 4 Remake F-Zero 99 Humanity Dredge Metroid Prime Remastered Anemoiaplois Alan Wake 2 Baldur’s Gate 3 LoZ Tears of the Kingdom Counter Strike 2 Hunt Showdown El Paso Elsewhere Jusant Slay the Princess| Remnant II The Finals Street FIghter 6 Lethal Company BattleBit Remastered Don’t Scream Homebody The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog Pizza Tower World of Horror Super Mario Wonder Mr. Sun’s Hatbox Fifa 23 Sea of Stars (Demo) Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update)

And the games I played that were NOT released in 2023:

Unpacking Persona 4 Golden Picross 7 The Order 1886 Shovel Knight Dig Lost Planet: Extreme Condition Spider-Man: Miles Morales Pac-Man Championship Edition DX Project Zomboid Quake LoZ The Minish Cap Drill Dozer Wario Land 4 Pokemon Pinball Resident Evil Revelations Summer of ‘58 Trackmania TwinCop We Were Here Visage Cursed Halo CE Half-Life 2 (I probably play this once per year) Witch Hunt Red Dead Redemption 2 Cyberpunk 2077 Borderlands 3 Brutal Legend Cultic Slay the Spire PUBG Rez Infinite Batman Arkham City Alan Wake Alan Wake: American Nightmare Max Payne LoZ: Majora’s Mask 3DS Metroid Prime Metroid Prime 2 Tunic Everhood Final Fantasy VII Final Fantasy VII Remake GOODBYE WORLD Yakuza: Like a Dragon Critters for Sale Dome Keeper Phasmophobia Hades Nintendo Switch Sports

Now that you understand the kind of freak you're dealing with…

Let's dive into my top ten favorite games from this objectively fucked up year.

10. El Paso Elsewhere Developed by Texas indie studio Strange Scaffold, El Paso Elsewhere is a Max Payne-clone with vampires, an opinionated narrator, and lots and lots of bullet time. As a small studio punching well above their weight class, Strange Scaffold leans into abstract, PlayStation 1 minimalism when it comes to visuals and pairs them with a soundtrack that will make your hands sweat. The vibes are here and they're ready for the end of the world. I'm personally also a big fan of everything this studio stands for.

9. Mr. Sun's Hatbox I want you to imagine Metal Gear Solid V. Now I want you to imagine that game as a 2D, level-based, slapstick platformer you can play with up to three friends. If you think that sounds stupid, you'd be right. And it's beautiful. As you build up a secret army of soldiers with various skills (and disorders), you'll start to develop *favorites*. This game constantly asks if you're willing to send those favorites on a harrowing mission and risk losing them forever… or if you'd rather send an idiot you recently captured who blinks constantly and can't kill anyone without fainting.

8. Dredge Every year I feel like I find one game that falls into the “just one more round” category, and baby… Dredge was it for 2023. As a weary fisherman in strange waters, you'll make the most out of your 12 measly hours of sunlight only for your daily voyages to inevitably pull you into the darkness of night, and night is when things get weird. Rocks emerge from the fog that you swear weren't there before, your equipment malfunctions, and you're pretty sure you just saw something in the water… something big. Despite only containing a small collection of islands, the world of Dredge manages to feel vast - perhaps vast enough to swallow you whole.

7. Resident Evil 4 Remake I was curious to see what sort of changes would be made to the timeless classic and father of modern 3rd person shooters, Resident Evil 4. I wasn't let down. RE4 Remake takes all the things that didn't age well about the original, tossed them out, and replaced them with only good things. And MORE things! It's campy, fun, and better than a game of bingo.

6. Jusant I really feel like this one didn't get the recognition it deserves. Jusant is a rock climbing game that combines the quiet contemplation of Journey with the mechanical specificity of Death Stranding. Unlike Death Standing, though, there is very little story to interrupt your flow. There are plenty of collectible bits to find for those curious to learn more about what happened before the events of the game, but the environmental storytelling does most of the heavy lifting. For me, the joy of the game comes from how it feels. Right trigger controls your right hand grip, and left trigger controls left hand grip. Plan your route, manage your stamina, and climb high above the clouds in search of answers.

5. F-Zero 99 This. Shit. Slaps. I've never been a big F-Zero guy, but this MADE me one. The “battle royale”, 99 player format is the perfect fit for the ruthless, high octane world of the game. Races last about three minutes, and friend, they are the most intense, white-knuckled three minutes of your life. The decision to make your boost meter the same as your health meter started in F-Zero 64 (I believe), and it is so much more HARROWING in this game when another player could side-swipe you mere meters from the finish line and blow you to bits. Sadly it's only playable via Switch Online, but it made me cheer, laugh, and scream enough this year to earn a spot in my top 5.

4. Alan Wake 2 Remedy makes weird games that also manage to exist in the AAA space and for that I will forever love them. Although Alan Wake 2 resembles a 3rd person shooter survival horror, I'd honestly say it's more of a narrative game than anything else. There's sidequests, there's puzzles, there's upgradeable skills, but at the end of the day the characters, world, and story are what kept me playing. If you haven't checked them out recently, you should definitely watch a story recap of the original games before diving into this sequel, but the wild swings for the fences this game takes are well worth that small price of admission. There's a god damn musical number, for Christ's sake.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom I've really got nothing to say about this game that most people don't already know. It's incredible. The fact that Nintendo made a game that redefined an entire genre and then made a SEQUEL to it that ups the ante is remarkable. To be honest, I've only cleared the Rito, Zora, and Goron cities. I got a bit tired of exploring the depths and guiding Koroks to their friends, but I can't deny the sheer level of complexity and polish on display here. I saw someone on TikTok build a functioning Mecha Godzilla in this game. Good God. I've heard that the ending of this game is one of the best in the franchise, and if I'd seen it this year then it may have wound up higher on my list, but for the time being I'll continue picking up this masterpiece from time to time, chipping away at it until the day comes that I can finally smack the tits off thicc Ganondorf.

2. Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update) I know I'm gonna get shit for this, but I don't care. This year was the 25th anniversary of Half-Life and Valve released an update that made playing it (and it's online Death Match) much more accessible. I threw it on my Steam Deck out of curiosity, expecting to play for 20 minutes. I could not put it down. It is unbelievable how modern this game still feels. I simply had so much fun sprinting through the corridors of Black Mesa with a dozen weapons strapped to my back, blasting aliens and military Spec-Op chumps as a 24(?!) year old theoretical physicist.

1. Baldur's Gate III This game is fucked up, man. The sheer amount of writing in this game scares me. We can all talk about how BIG this game is, it deserves it, but the thing BG3 does better than any other role playing game I have ever experienced is actually encourage roleplaying. I've played through Act I four times now, with four different groups of friends, and it has felt fresh every time. I have seen the same events play out in so many different ways that it boggles the mind, but in every one of those play sessions I see players asking themselves “What would my lil guy do here?” rather than "what is the best thing to do here?" The game rewards players constantly for just trying shit and the D&D 5e rule set means playing like the character you said you were from the start leads to frequent Points of Inspiration. Maybe one day I'll see the end of this story (probably not), but I don't have to in order to feel a connection with BG3's world, characters, and most impressively, the characters I made myself.

Honorable Mentions for 2023

5. Dave the Diver 4. Homebody 3. Sea of Stars 2. Humanity 1. Super Mario Wonder

Top 5 Favorites NOT from 2023

5. Metroid Prime 4. Final Fantasy VII Remake 3. Cursed Halo (Halo CE Mod) 2. Red Dead Redemption 2 1. Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask (3DS)

Games I didn't have a chance to play from 2023 but still want to when I find more time...

Viewfinder Venba Chants of Sennaar Thirsty Suitors Hi-Fi Rush Moonring Armored Core VI Laika Aged Through Blood Bomb Rush Cyberfunk

OKAY THANKS BYE!

[marimeeko]

OK OK so it was not in time for Katsuki's birthday, but here it is, a little tidbit of the chapter I'm still hammering out for my BKDK fic :D

fic: When Did Your Dream Become Mine Alone

Guys, any readers still around, If you haven't noticed, I'm a slow writer but don't worry, so many parts of this story are banging around in my head and in various stages of draft.

Anyway, enjoy; Katsuki is WHIPPED and Izuku is so NORMAL about these thoughts in his head!

Taking a huge bite of his dinner, Izuku tapped through his e-mails, and found a fresh one from Katsuki. He immediately sat up straighter, excitement building; it had to be the recording of their training session at UA on Saturday.

Before they had their misunderstanding, Izuku muttered a passing thought it might be a good idea to begin recording their sessions, so he could see his form from a new angle, in order to help him relearn all of his skills, kick bad habits and decide where new habits needed to be formed. Formulate new strategies and new moves. 

Katsuki had clearly overheard his rambling thoughts, and volunteered his laptop…He’d made sure he had purchased a high-quality model long ago, ever since starting the Replica suit project. He said it had been important to have a high-functioning machine in order to store all of the data, keep communication records, manage finances, and especially, keep in regular, remote contact with Hatsume and Melissa.

 It turns out that Izuku himself must have gotten distracted since having the initial thought himself, because he was shocked when Katsuki suddenly came surprisingly prepared. He’d shown up on Saturday with the best recording software currently available for the model, freshly downloaded and ready to use. 

And a new digital camera with a tripod.

Izuku had nearly hit the roof, seeing Katsuki respond to his small, half-formed idea, and answering it with such intensity. 

Katsuki also refused to divulge the price tag of his new equipment.

“Look, you want to have footage, or not? We’re not using the camera that came with the laptop, you won’t see shit, and then your form will be shit.” Katsuki was recorded at the beginning of the video he’d sent; up close in the camera’s view, adjusting something off screen, and then looking at everything in sequence, Izuku could vividly see his ruby red eyes darting around. 

“Ok, it’s recording. It’s got an AI program that will focus on our movements so we don’t have a bunch of useless shots.” He was seen getting to his feet, stepping back. The camera kept him in focus, showing Katsuki and then Izuku who had been behind him bending forward with a curious look. 

“Wow, it really does,” Izuku remarked, leaned out of frame and waved a hand around. He sidled closer to Katsuki and sent the camera a little peace sign and a grin. In the present, Izuku shook his head at his own antics, with a small, embarrassed smirk. He almost moved to hit fast-forward.

Katsuki, who had of course been in his bad mood at this point, with his arms crossed across his chest, was looking sideways at Izuku and appeared slightly annoyed as he usually did. But before Izuku could tap further in the play log, he saw Katsuki’s face change. 

It wasn’t much. The flat line of Katsuki’s lips tilted upwards, and the wrinkles around his eyes faded, brows lifted. If Izuku looked closely enough, he could see the rare sight of dimples at the corners of his mouth. Katsuki smiled. Really, truly smiled. At the Izuku on the screen, obliviously doing his silly little peace sign and leaning against Katsuki’s shoulder.

There was something so warm about it...It felt the same, Izuku thought, as when Katsuki had been helping him with his hands in the car. Or…in the Med van.

In the blink of an eye, Katsuki shrugged sharply and changed back, looking as if he was quickly putting back on his outward gruffness. It was at that point that Katsuki had turned, and grabbed Izuku by a palm slapped onto his forehead, dragging him away. 

“Come on, you wanted to train, idiot!” Katsuki had loudly complained.

Izuku in the present paused the video as the two of them walked away, towards the open gym where they had had their bout of Catch-a-Kacchan. He had to admit, the camera really was effective at smoothly keeping the two of them in frame.

He began fretting with a finger on his lip. 

It was silly, really, he’d seen Katsuki smile plenty of times even a few of these particular, softer ones. Was it because this time it had happened when Katsuki was otherwise in a bad mood? Because it was clearly not meant for Izuku to see? Why did he look so… What word was Izuku even looking for? 

…Affectionate?

Well, sure, he thought. It was normal for friends to have affection for each other. Even Katsuki had his moments, his own language of expressing those feelings. It was normal for the blonde to warm up his hands when they hurt. It was normal for friends to have deep, heartfelt conversations and to be protective of each other, sometimes angrily so... Warm smiles were normal between friends. It didn’t…mean anything. Not necessarily.

…Why did that somehow not make him feel better?

[hazalyildizs]

closed starter @lincolnreid

Sitting at her desk, Hazal stared intently at her computer screen as she worked on the new cloud computing software. She had been actively avoiding Lincoln ever since the incident at the springtide bash. Her mind was a jumbled mess of confusion. For the longest time, she had despised him—he was the bane of her existence with his constant nitpicking and unrealistic demands. But now, he was flirting with her? It made no sense. In hindsight, she knew she shouldn't have flirted back. She was just as much to blame. Avoiding him at work hadn't been easy, but she had managed it for the past week—until today.

He was leaning down behind her to look at the screen as they discussed the project. She could feel the warmth of his body and it made her pulse race. Feeling overwhelmed, she quickly wrapped things up. "And that's the last of the code for the user interface. It should be ready for testing by next week.” She stood abruptly, not realizing how close he was until she found herself caged between the desk and his solid chest. Her breath caught. "We're, uhm, done now. You can go," she stammered, cringing inwardly. Did she really just dismiss her boss like that? What the hell was wrong with her? She swallowed hard, waiting for him to step back, her nerves frayed.

[mariacallous]

When I walk into Jen Easterly’s office on a bright January day in Arlington, Virginia, I’m greeted by a giant shark head lurking on the floor. I instantly spot a Rubik’s Cube—an Easterly hallmark—emblazoned with the logo of the organization she’s run for the past three and a half years—the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency, or CISA, which President Donald Trump created during his first term.

Easterly, who is 56 years old, jumps to her feet to greet me. The first thing that hits me is her denim pants, which have a dragon on one leg and a serpent on the other. Then she launches into updates on CISA’s animated “Secure Our World” video series and, in the same breath, laments that she hasn’t had time for a private guitar lesson in weeks. Seemingly a regular day on the job for her, except for one thing. As of January 20, Inauguration Day, Easterly’s time at CISA would be over. Trump had fired the agency’s first director, Chris Krebs, after CISA refused to question the integrity of the 2020 election, and Easterly now says she wasn’t asked to stay. Rumors are swirling that CISA programs—or even the entire agency—may soon be on Trump’s chopping block.

The timing couldn’t be worse for the nation to lose its top cybersecurity cop. A Beijing-linked group called Salt Typhoon spent months last year rampaging through American telecoms and siphoning call logs, recordings, text messages, and even potentially location data. Many experts have called it the biggest hack in US telecom history. Easterly and her agency unknowingly detected Salt Typhoon activity in federal networks early last year—warning signs that ultimately sped up the unraveling of the espionage campaign.

The work of banishing Chinese spies from victim networks isn’t over, but the walls are already closing in on CISA. Trump's nominee to run the Department of Homeland Security, Kristi Noem, told a senate committee last week that CISA needs to be “smaller” and “more nimble.” And a day after the inauguration, all members of the Cyber Safety Review Board—who were appointed by Easterly and were actively investigating the Salt Typhoon breaches—were let go.

When Easterly officially became the agency’s second director, in 2021, the government was still reeling from a different blockbuster hack—SolarWinds. Kremlin-backed intruders had compromised widely used software to infiltrate the networks of US agencies and other targets. Helping US institutions defend themselves became an even more urgent and daunting project. CISA doesn’t enforce laws or collect intelligence; its job is to evangelize digital security measures and offer free services, so institutions can see what they need to do to not get hacked or—more realistically—get hacked less badly. Easterly got to work building relationships across the federal government and with state and local officials, corporate executives, and utility managers. In crises like the Salt Typhoon campaign, these relationships are crucial to quickly containing the damage.

It takes a determined person, and perhaps a charismatic one, to build rapport with such a wide-ranging group of people. Easterly has the background for it: She has worked in the Army (with multiple deployments), the National Security Agency, and the National Security Council under Barack Obama, and she spent nearly five years in charge of Morgan Stanley’s global cybersecurity. She also helped establish US Cyber Command within the Department of Defense. Somehow, though, she’s chill. To break the ice, and probably to make an impression, Easterly has leaned into her passions while in office, cubing and jamming with executives and utility operators around the country. And, yes, there’s her eclectic style—high fashion (by cybersecurity standards, anyway) mixed with bell-bottoms and Birkenstocks—but also her quiet, intense obsession with trying to solve the puzzle that is digital defense.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity, combining on-camera and off-camera portions. Check out WIRED’s YouTube channel for the video.

You’re in your last days as the director of CISA. How's it going?

It's a little bittersweet.

Why are you leaving?

Well, at the end of the day, I'm a Senate-confirmed political appointee. We serve at the pleasure of the president. I've not been asked to stay.

There are signs that the Trump administration may be hostile to some of CISA’s goals. Do you think the agency has proven it's valuable?

We are America's cyberdefense agency, but our budget is less than $3 billion. I think the American people are getting an incredible return on investment. Anybody who looks at it will see that there's been an enormous amount of progress made in reducing risk to the critical infrastructure Americans rely on every hour of every day. We're talking water, power, transportation, communication, finance. It's not a political or partisan issue, and these threats are only getting more complicated, more dangerous. Any stepping back of what we've put in place will be to the detriment of the safety and security of the American people.

One threat that’s top of mind is Salt Typhoon. How have past foreign espionage campaigns, like Russia’s SolarWinds attacks, informed the work you all are doing?

What we saw in December 2020, with the revelations about the Russian intrusions into US federal government networks, as well as businesses around the world, was a pretty sophisticated supply-chain espionage operation. I would say the bumper sticker was to finally allow CISA to manage the .gov federal digital assets as one enterprise, not as a disparate tribe of a hundred separate departments and agencies. It's still a work in progress, but what we've put in place across the government over the past three and a half years has given us enormous visibility and has allowed us to detect intrusions much more rapidly, to be able to remediate them and to get ahead of future intrusions.

It’s concerning how difficult it seems to have been for the telecoms to eradicate the Chinese hackers from their networks. Has there been progress in terms of that transparency and insight you're talking about?

After the revelations of these breaches, we stood up what's called a unified coordination group. So we're responding, the FBI is investigating, folks like the National Security Agency are using what we see in the intelligence to understand the extent and the depth of this intrusion. And we're coming together to work with the victims. We've been doing that for months. This has unfortunately been out in the press a lot—

I would say fortunately!

Anything that gets out there has the downside of having adversaries change their tactics. So, while I think the transparency to consumers is important, it also makes it more difficult to then find these actors within the network. I don't expect it to be remediated in the short term.

What about in the long term?

Everybody should assume that our adversaries, in particular China, are attempting to go after our critical infrastructure. The private sector, they are on the front lines of this fight, because they own and operate the vast majority of our critical infrastructure. It's why companies need to put collaboration over self-preservation.

I want a future where something like a ransomware attack is a shocking anomaly. Where damaging software vulnerabilities exploited by nation-state actors are as infrequent as plane crashes. A world where the technology that we've come to rely on every hour of every day is first and foremost secure.

It feels like hackers always find new ways to get where they want to go. Can you win at defense?

I mean, you're right. Defense is hard. I say that as America's cyber head goalie. And that's why it has to be a team. As much as we work to hunt for and eradicate Chinese actors, our partners need to hold those actors accountable, whether that's through offensive cyber capabilities or indictments or sanctions. But, yes, we're on the defensive side, and it's a challenge.

Former CISA director Jen Easterly left office on Inauguration Day as rumors swirled about the fate of the agency.Photograph: Dana Scruggs

Right now is a very scary and precarious time in cyberspace.

I spent a lot of time in counterterrorism, and people would often say, “What keeps you up at night?” But it's really not what keeps me up at night. It's all about what gets you up in the morning. I love my team. I love the mission. Not every day is the best day ever, but you work through the issues, you stay resilient, you stay focused.

Probably a necessary attitude for this type of work. But I just have to be that guy who asks you one more time: What keeps you up at night?

A major conflict in Asia—the potential invasion or blockade of Taiwan by the People’s Republic of China—could have very real consequences here in the US. You could see pipelines and water being affected, telecommunications being severed, rail lines, power. That is all part of a very deliberate effort by the People’s Republic of China to incite what they call “societal panic” and to deter our ability to marshal military might and citizen will. We have to acknowledge that disruption may occur.

Is the public paying too much attention to espionage campaigns like Salt Typhoon? Should we all be more worried about threats to critical infrastructure, like China’s Volt Typhoon?

We are very focused overall on PRC cyber actors. CISA is one of the few agencies in the government that has been able to find both Volt Typhoon within critical infrastructure as well as Salt Typhoon. In fact, it was our work several months ago to find Salt Typhoon that then led to law enforcement identifying virtual private servers that were being leased by the adversaries, and then that unraveled the wider campaign.

You and I have talked before about how Ukraine has faced years of punishing digital attacks and, of course, an ongoing kinetic war with Russia. CISA has partnered for a few years now with its counterpart agency in Ukraine. Do you have concerns that the Trump administration won't prioritize that relationship?

Ukraine is under active assault by a very sophisticated threat actor. What we are learning from how they are dealing with those attacks actually helps us understand and mitigate similar threats to our own infrastructure. Cyber is a borderless space, and what our foreign partners see can absolutely benefit us. We need to ensure that all of us—from the vendors that create technology to companies that buy technology to citizens that consume technology—recognize our shared role in a collective defense of cyberspace and critical infrastructure.

Do you feel that there are too many cooks in the US federal cybersecurity kitchen? Has that been an issue?

It really has not. A lot of people have asked that question, but when the SolarWinds incident occurred I was looking at it as both the cyber policy lead for the Biden-Harris transition team and, perhaps more importantly, from my day job at Morgan Stanley. One advisory came out from CISA that was very SolarWinds-specific. We didn't have SolarWinds in our infrastructure. Another one came from NSA that was focused on VMware, and we did have VMware in our systems. It was not clear how these things were connected. And then you would see an FBI private-sector notice about something else. At this point I've already been in government for 27 years. I'd been in the military, the Department of Defense, the intelligence community, the White House. It's like, I know this. I thought I understood the government. And I couldn't make sense of what the government was trying to tell us about this Russian espionage campaign. It was one of the motivating things about coming to CISA. How do we bring together the federal cyber ecosystem?

The relationships with NSA, FBI, and CISA have never been better. Some of that is personalities, but I think we have actually developed institutional connective tissue, so that it will last. It's very, very clear what CISA’s role is. Now, you often talk about, what does the National Security Council do? What does the Office of the National Cyber Director do? I think we've sorted out the relationships at that level with policy and strategy, but really at the operational level where CISA lives, those relationships across the federal cyber ecosystem I think have never been better.

You said that there is unfinished business as you prepare to leave CISA. Where do you wish you could have done more?

There’s a lot of unfinished business. We have made an impact through our ransomware vulnerability warning pilot and our pre-ransomware notification initiative, and I’m really proud of that, because we work on preventing somebody from having their worst day. But ransomware is still a problem. We have been laser-focused on PRC cyber actors. That will continue to be a huge problem. I'm really proud of where we are, but there's much, much more work to be done. There are things that I think we can continue driving, that the next administration, I hope, will look at, because, frankly, cybersecurity is a national security issue.

I have to ask you, there are rumors: Are you or are you not going on tour when you leave CISA?

You know, I certainly hope to. I played piano and guitar when I was young, but I started taking up electric guitar, and that has become my passion, my obsession. So my big postretirement plan several years from now is to start a bar in lower Manhattan, to have a band. We're going to do magic. We're going to do improv. I'm going to be the bartender.

And will there be Rubik's Cubes at every table?

There will be Rubik's Cubes. I'm obsessed with the Rubik's Cube. When I was 11 these things were introduced across the world, and I was a huge puzzler and a video game person. I learned how to solve it, and then I would go to toy stores—I was this little kid with pigtails—and say, “Hey, if I can solve this in less than two minutes, will you give me a free one?” So I was able to amass this whole set of them.

You must see some sort of connection between that and your day job.

Ernő Rubik, who invented the thing, said something like, if you are curious, you will find puzzles around you. And if you are determined, you will solve them. And when I think about the incredible technical talent that we have here at CISA, it’s the intellectual curiosity, it’s the hacker mindset, it’s the problem solver. But it's also the determination, the relentless drive to solve the most complicated problems out there.

[bradstlouis]

Lean vs. Waterfall Business Models: Choosing the Right Approach for Your Venture

When starting or scaling a business, one of the most critical decisions you’ll make is choosing the operational approach that aligns with your goals, resources, and industry demands. Two popular frameworks that often guide entrepreneurs are the Lean and Waterfall business models. Understanding their principles, advantages, and challenges can empower you to select the model that best suits your vision and market.

What is the Lean Business Model?

The Lean business model prioritizes efficiency, adaptability, and continuous improvement. It focuses on creating value for the customer while minimizing waste. Inspired by lean manufacturing principles, particularly those pioneered by Toyota, this model has become a cornerstone of modern startups and innovation-driven enterprises.

Key Principles of the Lean Model:

Validated Learning: Experimentation and customer feedback drive product and process development.

Build-Measure-Learn Cycle: Rapid prototyping allows for iterative improvements.

Customer-Centric Approach: Emphasis on understanding and addressing customer needs.

Waste Reduction: Eliminating activities and resources that don’t add value.

Advantages of Lean:

Cost Efficiency: By focusing on essential features and avoiding overproduction, businesses conserve resources.

Flexibility: Quick pivots are possible when market demands or customer preferences shift.

Speed to Market: Minimal Viable Products (MVPs) enable businesses to launch quickly and refine over time.

Challenges of Lean:

High Uncertainty: Iterative processes may result in unpredictability.

Resource Intensity: Constant feedback loops and adjustments require dedicated time and effort.

Scalability Issues: Lean is ideal for early-stage businesses but may need adaptation for large-scale operations.

What is the Waterfall Business Model?

The Waterfall business model, rooted in traditional project management, follows a linear and sequential approach. This model is structured around defined stages, where each phase must be completed before moving to the next. While it originated in industries like construction and software development, it’s also applicable to businesses requiring meticulous planning and execution.

Key Principles of the Waterfall Model:

Sequential Progression: Projects move from concept to completion in defined steps.

Detailed Documentation: Comprehensive plans, budgets, and timelines are created upfront.

Defined Deliverables: Clear milestones ensure all tasks are completed in order.

Stability: A fixed plan minimizes changes during the process.

Advantages of Waterfall:

Predictability: Clear timelines and budgets enhance planning and stakeholder confidence.

Quality Assurance: Extensive documentation ensures thorough testing and evaluation.

Ease of Implementation: Ideal for projects with well-defined requirements.

Challenges of Waterfall:

Rigidity: Limited flexibility to adapt to changing market conditions.

Delayed Feedback: Customer input often comes late, increasing the risk of misalignment.

Time-Intensive: Sequential phases may lead to longer development cycles.

How to Choose Between Lean and Waterfall

The choice between Lean and Waterfall depends on your business’s nature, goals, and industry.

Lean is Ideal For:

Startups and innovative ventures with evolving market demands.

Projects where customer feedback is essential.

Teams prioritizing speed and adaptability.

Waterfall is Ideal For:

Established businesses with fixed goals and budgets.

Industries like construction, healthcare, or manufacturing, where precision is critical.

Long-term projects requiring robust planning.

Conclusion

Both the Lean and Waterfall business models offer unique advantages and come with their own set of challenges. While the Lean model fosters innovation and flexibility, the Waterfall approach ensures stability and predictability. Entrepreneurs should carefully evaluate their project’s scope, resources, and objectives before committing to a framework. By aligning your operational strategy with your business’s needs, you set the stage for sustainable growth and success.

[enkisstories]

The mechanic, the scavenger and the wrecker

Have an outtake of the Star Wars fic I'm currently writing.

The story is set after TRoS and continues my "The wrecking of the Steadfast", at the end of which General Hux has joined the Resistance. The outake has him interacting with Chewie and Threepio, two veterans of the rebel alliance. It goes better than expected.

In a tiny chamber adjacent to the Millenium Falcon’s crew quarters Armitage Hux sat on an ancient computer stuffed between the controls of the freight lift and a stack of crates. This computer had been old already before the man’s birth, but the simple dictionary program Hux was running would – hopefully – not tax it to its limits. Granted, the software was as outdated as the machine it ran on, but Hux wasn’t interested in “Modern Shyriiwook permutations in response to three fucking wars within the same number of generations” – he wanted to learn the language’s basics.

So far everything had went swimmingly: The student had matched Basic words in the Aurebesh script to the Shyriiwook translation, all of them new vocables from yesterday’s lesson. Then the computer had shown him definitions in the foreign language that Hux had typed the correct Shyriiwook word in.

Hux was already fluent in Bocce and High Galactic, could get by in Huttese (although unlike the other two, try as he might he couldn’t switch his brain to think in that language) and kept up with every new iteration of Binary. Picking up passive fluency in Chewbacca’s mother tongue shouldn’t have been an issue, just a light exercise to pass time during the flight. Except that when the computer projected a hologram that chatted away at the student, Hux didn’t understand a single word. Closing his eyes to better focus on the sounds didn’t help either.

I was so certain… By now I could write simple poems in Shyriiwook, so why can’t I understand any of this?

The human pulled his lips back, baring his teeth in the process, and growled!

The sound caused Chewie to break from whatever he had been doing in the common room and take a look at the goings-on in the antechamber.

Hux turned around with the chair he was sitting on.

“Oh… er. Sorry. Rabid dog of the First Order. You know.”

Wordlessly Chewbacca grabbed the chair’s backrest. Keeping his head high as to avoid catching a whiff of the human’s pungent citrus scented hair styling gel he turned it back into its original position so that Hux could see the contents of the screen again. It now showed a green checkmark and a rating of 98%. Apparently the student had just near-correctly pronounced a Shyriiwook word when anything above fifty percent was unheard of. Not even Han Solo with a cold had ever managed come closer than ratings in the forties and little Ben’s attempt after eating chalk had resulted in a sad two percent only (it was still stored in the system, but fortunately for adult Ben Hux hadn’t happened upon this gem yet).

“What did I just say?” Hux uttered, as perplexed as the Wookie and probably also the computer program.

C-3PO made his way past Chewbacca. Hux smiled at the droid. Over the course of his adventure with the Resistance they had become unlikely friends, but Threepio was closest to the newest recruit in his approach to the world: they were the protocol nerds and numbers crunchers and in each other they had finally met a likeminded individual.

“Nothing in particular”, Threepio explained. “That was an expression added to a low priority request to signify urgency on a subjective level. Think ordering in a cantina when you are not in a hurry, but you really crave a slice of cake.”

Ah. Fortunately that wasn’t an issue at the moment. The Falcon was well stocked with provisions; Captain Barley and Maggie had seen to that before the freighter had left New Harvest. After those recent lean days they now had plenty of ham, bread (not the First Order regulation brand) and fruit and nobody had to feel bad for putting an extra lump of sugar into their tea.

“So… “Get a move on”?” Hux ventured.

“(It’s not difficult to understand why YOU and Poe Dameron are together. You’re both…)” Chewbacca finished his sentence with a gesture.

“Ten fingers? Ey… two handful?”

“Hrm.”

The Wookie sat down on one of the cargo crates. From that vantage point he studied Hux intently. It was rare for the man to face someone taller than himself. He didn’t like it at all, and his disadvantaged position would normally have activated all kinds of attack impulses. Not so right now. In this moment after his inadvertent language “prodigy” moment, Hux’s head sank and he told the floor in a low voice:

“I bit off more than I can chew with those studies. After all those days I still cannot understand a single word.”

Chewie leaned forward and grabbed the human by his borrowed shirt, that the crew still was not completely certain whom it had belonged to before. He forced Hux to look up, growling something, that C-3PO immediately translated:

“He said the Resistance has no place for quitters, Master Cycen.”

Right. Isbrand Cycen. His alias. So it was coming down to this, fit in or get left behind on New Harvest after all, nevermind that the Falcon had hyperjumped since then. If Hux/Cycen abandoned his language studies now, what guarantee did Resistance Command have that he’d finish a mission? Oh, yes, that sort of doubt was sooo unfamiliar to the young General…

It was the same everywhere, and yet, the Wookie’s grip radiated the same reassuring support that had led to the traitor turning into a defector over the course of their adventure on the colony world.

The dilemma was not lost to Threepio. Not waiting for the humanoids to speak up again, he supplied his own advice: “To understand Shyriiwook you have to pay attention to body language and mimic as well as the general context.”

“All the things I suck at, check.”

“Why don’t you practice with a native speaker?” Threepio suggested. “I’ll go fetch something to help with the thinking.”

Hux was about to shout: “That’s not necessary, Wookies are in fact highly intelligent!” He already had his mouth open before it struck him that the droid already knew this. Threepio had gotten initialized with the knowledge he, Hux, had discovered for himself only so recently. The brain that needed greasing was his own.

Alas, even with hot strawberry tea and grape sugar pressed into handy pills progress was painfully slow. But progress there was. Some at least.

Hux smiled when he immediately noticed Chewbacca switch from teaching pronunciation to his actual mode of speech at the end of the exercise. So he was able to detect some differences at least.

“(Second smile today – suits you, brat. Don’t translate this, Threepio.)”

Threepio winced, started raising his arms in protest, but then again valued them too much to disobey the order. The first words he was allowed to translate again were:

“(How’s he holding up?)”

“He? Oh. Ren. He’s…” Hux shook his head. “We don’t speak a lot.”

“(Same.)”

“Are you saying I should?”

“(No. And that goes for all of us, especially myself.)”

“Because on the Steadfast…”

Chewie nodded.

“(Exactly. When he tortured me for information, that was different from if you had done so. Getting at the information was secondary for Ben. He was mainly raging at me as a symbol of his past and then against himself, so now I can’t really tell whether I want to cuddle him or rip an arm out. I mean, I know what I should do and what I will do, I just… Sometimes I don’t know how I feel about all of this.)”

A moment of vulnerability… Back home it would have gotten called weakness, and showing weakness once would have made that person perceived as weak in all regards. That wasn’t how things were working here.

Chewbacca’s next sentence Hux recognized as a question even before C-3PO had started translating. Hearing it in basic, however, made the man wish the words had never gotten spoken, for Chewbacca was asking about the time when Kylo Ren had come to the First Order. At first it was painful to talk about someone else’s troubles, when Hux had so much emotional baggage of his own. But then he realized that in telling Chewbacca about Kylo, he was also talking about his own past. He held back nothing, spoke matter of factly, and in the process gave insights into the First Order’s routines and inner workings that otherwise would have been difficult to get out of a captive, even of a defector willing to share everything he knew, because much of what Hux revealed would never have occurred to him as worth passing on to his new allies. At times his words caused disgust, then Hux had to rewind five seconds in his head and look again at the scene he had described to maybe understand what was so gag-inducing about it.

“(Alright)”, Chewbacca eventually said. “(Update the database with those customs codes and protocols you mentioned. They might come in handy. When you’re done, we should be close to Emeraldin.)”

“Will do.”

Chewbacca left the room, followed by C-3PO.

“You’re awfully patient with Master Cycen”, the droid remarked.

“(The way I see it, a crime of the magnitude of his isn’t paid for by getting executed or suffering. The snotty brat needs to make amends and I’ll make certain that he does so to the fullest of his capabilities. If he needs to smile to get us there, then I’ll make him, if he needs a cattle prod into the backside, then I’ll deliver that.)”

And also, but this detail the Wookie kept from Threepio, the killer of Hosnia’s presence was a constant reminder that Ben Solo hadn’t been the worst person in the galaxy. Small comfort as that was…

Full chapter here.

[yesmaddyposts]

Prototypes and Platinum Blondes

Fandom: The Barbie Movie (2023) Word Count: 1.4k Relationships: Pre-relationship, Margot Robbie's Barbie X Ryan Gosling's Ken Tags: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Android ! Ken, Engineer ! Barbie, Unresolved Romantic Tension AO3 Link

Description: Mattel is the nation's top robotics company, and their newest line of romantic companion androids (The Ken Line) is officially underway. It's up to Barbie to get the prototype up and running.

Of all the projects Barbie has worked on in her career at Mattel, this one has got to be the most…ambitious. She can do it, of course. One doesn’t just graduate from MIT, land a job at the nation’s most prestigious robotics company, and build their way up to lead hardware engineer without knowing their stuff. But being tasked to help design a prototype for a line of romantic companion androids was definitely not on her bingo card.

She’s engineered plenty of androids that serve different functions in the past decade. Androids that are designed to take on high-risk, hard labor jobs like oil rig operators and nuclear waste managers. This project is a very different direction for the company. Barbie has to admit, it’s been a daunting task. She’s used to coding and programming androids for physical tasks. Designing an android with an identity, complete with flaws and skills and hobbies, is an entirely different ballpark.

The android’s factory name is K-0080. It’s printed on the bottom of his left foot and a manual on/off which is disguised as a birthmark on the base of his neck. He is the first of his kind, a prototype for what Mattel hopes to be their most commercially successful android line yet. The Ken Line. Ken because, apparently, Kenneth means “good-looking.” Not Barbie’s first choice. He’s been officially powered on for just shy of forty-eight hours now. Enough time to test out his primary functions, sensory motors, and reflexes. That’s the most fun part for Barbie when it comes to engineering. She likes to pretend she’s in a game show called “Can the robot do the thing?” Can he button up his own shirt? Can he do ten jumping jacks in a row? Can he walk in a straight line all while touching his nose with his pointer finger? 

In K-0080’s case, the answer is a resounding yes.

Right now he sits behind her on an examination table in the testing lab. He looks around curiously while swinging one of his legs like a little kid. That is kind of what he is right now. He has been programmed with the basics: speaking and understanding English fluently, reading and writing, mathematics. But that’s about it. Barbie glances over her shoulder to look at him. His face is cycling through a series of expressions like he is trying them on his face for the first time. Finally he settles on one that mimics confusion. 

Barbie has to admit, Gloria didn’t cut any corners with designing the android’s physical features. There’s a reason she is the head of the visual design department. The androids Barbie has made in the past have been humanoid, but their primary function was labor, not aesthetics. Most of the time they were missing key human attributes like hair and skin. But not K-0080. He looks more human than some actual people Barbie has met in real life. 

It is obvious that Gloria put an immense amount of attention to detail into this prototype. There is thought and care with every eyelash and freckle on the android’s face. A conscious decision was made on the exact shade of platinum blonde for his hair. He has a lean muscular build which suggests athleticism, but the lack of calluses on his hands indicate that he doesn’t get his physique from weight lifting. For god’s sake, K-0080 has pores.  

K-0080 catches her looking at him. He hasn’t been programmed with his full personality yet, so he doesn’t startle or get shy. He just maintains unabashed eye contact and asks, “What are you doing now?”

“I’m finishing up the transfer for your identity software so you aren’t just a one-dimensional love-bot,” Barbie tells him as if he will understand a single thing about what she is talking about.

“So cool,” K-0080 responds. She does a double take at the hint of Californian accent in there. 

It’s a very personal response for an android that is still only half-done. Did Kate put some of his traits in the original data upload without telling anyone? Barbie wouldn't put it past her to sneak something like that in there, after all everyone in the office calls her Weird Barbie because of their similar faces and her eccentric behavior. The two of them just pretend they don't know it.

When the android doesn’t react further, she returns to her computer, skimming for any errors that cropped up in the download for Kate’s code. And the code is extensive. Mattel spared no expense in polling target audiences for the type of “romantic companion” they wanted. They conducted numerous surveys on personality traits, hobbies, and qualities that people found most attractive. Even K-0080’s voice was hand picked. Barbie does not envy the poor intern who had to marathon hundreds of romantic comedies to create the perfect vocal blend of male Hollywood heartthrobs. What the company has settled on is this: K-0080 is to be a beach-loving, optimistic, charmingly awkward boyfriend-type with a soft spot. People want a companion they can fall in love with, but not one that is so perfectly superior that it ruins the illusion.

With Gloria's expert eye and Kate's creative genius, all Barbie has to do is put the puzzle pieces together. She isn’t the romantic type, honestly, but it’s a simple task with all the heavy lifting already done.

She sets the data files to transfer. With a sigh she stands up out of her desk chair and stretches. Her joints all pop in succession, an embarrassing reminder that this last month and a half she has been spending more time sitting at her computer designing a robot with a fake social life than she has being, you know, actually social. K-0080 tracks her movements with his eyes. They’re a shade of blue that is entrancing without tipping into uncanny valley territory.

If the trial period goes well, orders for more Ken Line androids will go into effect. That means different skins, personality traits, heights, weights, every customizable quality will be on the table. More variation means more opportunity to widen the customer demographic. She approaches the android and considers this potential future. Will K-0080 be the only one of his line to look like this? Or will people love him so much they’ll want an exact replica, leading to advertisements and billboards showcasing identical androids? She walks in a slow circle around him. What will become of this model specifically in the grand scheme of things? 

When she stops in front of him again, K-0080 smiles up at her with a dreamy sort of affectionate expression. Barbie can’t help the heat that rushes to her face. How has he mastered that already?

The moment breaks with the chiming of her computer. Data Transfer Complete the screen reads. Below that, a horizontal bar is filled in with a hot pink color, and to the right end of the bar is a 100% symbol. Barbie removes the microchip from her computer and brings it over to K-0080. She carefully folds back the cartilage of his right ear to expose the port in his skull. It’s a lot like an SD card for a camera, or a hard drive for a computer. The android is a vessel that stores information, and that information is transferred from the microchip. K-0080 has the capacity to learn dozens of languages, skills, and even fabricated memories and storylines. Kate calls it a “roleplay treasure trove.”

She steps back after inserting the microchip, then walks around so that she faces the android once more. K-0080’s face shifts to a neutral expression as he absorbs the influx of new information. A silver loading symbol replaces the irises around his pupils, gradually filling up with the same pink color as on the computer. When it is full, his irises fade back to their regular ocean-blue. 

This project has been years in the making. Years of blueprinting, engineering, researching, and it all comes down to this. The gravity of the situation is enough to make Barbie’s heart race. 

“Alright, let’s test you out. What’s your name?” Barbie asks. 

K-0080 seems to ponder the question, as if he is searching through his internal database for the correct response. His reaction time will get quicker with time, Barbie knows. He’ll need to go on trial runs. Mattel will be bringing in real people to go on “dates” with the first ever romantic companion so he can get real world experience. K-0080's code grants him the ability not only to gain knowledge from a single data transfer, but to pick up knowledge firsthand. The possibilities are literally endless. As if he is fully aware of this unprecedented accomplishment, K-0080’s lips stretch into a confident grin.

“My name is Ken.”    

[henryfitzgeraldblog]

Ditch the 9-to-5: The Ultimate Guide to Transitioning into a Successful Freelance Career

The fluorescent lights hum overhead, the clock ticks agonizingly slow, and the stack of TPS reports mocks you from your desk. Is this the picture-perfect career you envisioned for yourself? If the answer is a resounding "no," and the thought of trading commutes for co-working spaces and pajamas for productivity makes your heart sing, then freelancing might be the answer you've been searching for.

But ditching the security of a traditional job and venturing into the freelance world can be daunting. Fear not, fellow adventurer! This comprehensive guide will equip you with the knowledge and strategies to navigate the transition smoothly and build a thriving freelance career.

Are You Cut Out for Freelance Life?

Freelancing isn't all sunshine and self-made schedules. It requires discipline, self-motivation, and the ability to wear multiple hats – marketer, project manager, and yes, even the actual billable work you do. Before you hit the "post my services" button, take a moment to assess your suitability:

Self-Discipline: Can you stick to a schedule without a boss hovering? Time management is crucial for juggling projects and deadlines.

Motivation: Can you stay focused and driven without the external pressure of a performance review looming? Freelancing success hinges on your internal fire.

Communication Skills: Articulating your value proposition to clients and managing expectations are essential. Hone your communication skills to build strong client relationships.

Financial Savvy: Freelancing often means fluctuating income. Budgeting, saving for lean times, and managing taxes are crucial for financial stability.

Building Your Freelance Fortress: Skills, Services, and Setting Up Shop

Now that you've confirmed your inner freelancer, it's time to lay the groundwork for your freelance empire. Here's what you need to do:

Identify Your Niche: Are you a graphic design whiz, a content writing maestro, or a social media magician? Pinpoint your area of expertise and tailor your services accordingly.

Sharpen Your Skills: Never stop learning! Take online courses, attend workshops, and stay abreast of industry trends to keep your skillset sharp.

Craft a Compelling Portfolio: This is your digital handshake. Showcase your best work, highlighting past projects that demonstrate your expertise and value to potential clients.

Build Your Online Presence: Create a professional website or online portfolio that showcases your services and grabs clients' attention. Utilize social media platforms like LinkedIn to connect with potential clients and build your professional network.

Gear Up for Success: Invest in the tools you need to excel. This might include design software, project management apps, or communication platforms depending on your chosen field.

The Client Conundrum: How to Find Work and Land Your Dream Projects

The lifeblood of any freelance career is a steady stream of clients. Here's how to get them knocking at your virtual door:

Leverage Online Marketplaces: Platforms like Upwork and Fiverr connect freelancers with clients worldwide. While competition can be fierce, these platforms are a great way to build your initial client base.

Network Like a Pro: Attend industry events, connect with potential clients on LinkedIn, and don't underestimate the power of word-of-mouth recommendations.

Guest Blogging and Content Marketing: Publish informative articles on relevant industry websites to showcase your expertise and attract potential clients who need your services.

Cold Pitching: This can be nerve-wracking, but crafting compelling proposals directly to businesses that might need your services can be highly effective.

Freelancing 101: The Nitty-Gritty of Running Your Own Business

Freelancing isn't just about creative work. Here's how to handle the business side of things:

Setting Rates and Contracts: Research industry standards for your services and set competitive yet profitable rates. Always have a clearly defined contract in place that outlines project scope, fees, deadlines, and payment terms.

Invoicing and Payment Management: Develop a system for sending invoices on time and following up on late payments. Consider online invoicing tools to streamline this process.

Taxes, Oh Taxes: Don't let taxes become a nasty surprise at the end of the year. Educate yourself on freelancer tax requirements and consider consulting a tax professional for guidance.

Building a Sustainable Freelance Career: Tips and Tricks for Long-Term Success

The freelance journey is a marathon, not a sprint. Here are some tips to ensure you stay ahead of the curve:

Always Be Learning: Continue honing your skills, stay updated on industry trends, and explore new areas of expertise to keep your services relevant and in demand.

Diversify Your Income Streams: Don't rely solely on one or two clients. Actively seek new projects and consider offering additional services to expand your income potential.

Invest in Yourself: This doesn't just mean fancy equipment. Attend conferences, workshops, or even take a well-deserved vacation to avoid burnout. Investing in your well-being fosters creativity and productivity.

Build a Support System: Freelancing can be isolating at times. Connect with other freelancers online or in your local area. Communities like Sorbet provide a space to share experiences, troubleshoot challenges, and celebrate successes.

The Final Word: Embrace the Freelance Adventure!

Taking the leap into freelancing can be exhilarating and liberating. Remember, the road to success won't always be smooth, but with dedication, perseverance, and the right strategies in place, you can build a thriving freelance career and live life on your own terms. So, ditch the fluorescent lights, embrace the freedom, and get ready to write your own freelance success story!

Bonus Tip: Don't be afraid to experiment and find what works best for you. The beauty of freelancing lies in its flexibility. Adapt your approach, refine your strategies, and continuously strive to improve your craft and your business acumen.

[mx-lamour]

I've been in physical therapy for a neck/back strengthening program, because most of my work/hobbies are things I lean over. I have had terrible posture most of my life for a few reasons.

Sometimes my PT coach likes to chat in between exercises. Sometimes during. Usually just small talk.

But then I'm in this machine, pushing 88 pounds of torque with my spine, and he asks me if I have any new projects going on.

This guy, who I already know is normal athlete guy, and who knows that I engage in art and writing endeavors he has no frame of reference for.

It's sweet of him to be curious, but my god.

So I wrack my brain, and start to explain in the most basic and general way how I'm... doing cosplay? And like, writing a research paper about it?

But it hits my special-interest desire to go into animated detail, full of silly jargon, wherein I would feel compelled to define and delve into the background of every other word, and I'm having to curate on the spot which details are important and why and which he would be able to follow and how to present them in an order that makes sense, and I'm doing a pretty bang-up job, and then suddenly I start to realize that I am burning up.

Miraculously, I manage to say "I'm getting really hot" but don't actually remember that I am still currently engaged in a physical workout, so the guy jumps in and saves me and tells me I can stop the exercise.

I'd literally stopped processing the physical exertion. My brain apparently set it to autopilot in order to effectively craft speech instead. I did not feel tired or sore. I could easily have gone back to doing more reps if I had only shut my mouth.

But as it was, like a computer trying to run a software it wasn't built for, I was literally overheating.

tbh I'm a little bit curious what the crash point would have been, and which would have gone first, my tongue or my back or something else entirely...

[allaboutmarketing4you]

Kanban, Waterfall, and DevOps  are three different approaches to project management and software development. Here's an overview of each concept: 1. Kanban: Definition: Kanban is a visual management method for software development and knowledge work. It originated from manufacturing processes in Toyota and has been adapted for use in software development to improve efficiency and flow.

Key Concepts: Visualization: Work items are represented on a visual board, usually with columns such as "To Do," "In Progress," and "Done."

Work in Progress (WIP) Limits: Limits are set on the number of items allowed in each column to optimize flow and avoid bottlenecks.

Continuous Delivery: Focus on delivering work continuously without distinct iterations.

Advantages: Flexibility in responding to changing priorities.

Continuous delivery of value. Visual representation of work enhances transparency.

Use Case: Kanban is often suitable for teams with variable and unpredictable workloads, where tasks don't follow a fixed iteration cycle.

2. Waterfall: Definition: The Waterfall model is a traditional and sequential approach to software development. It follows a linear and rigid sequence of phases, with each phase building upon the outputs of the previous one.

Phases: Requirements: Define and document project requirements. Design: Create the system architecture and design. Implementation: Code the system based on the design. Testing: Conduct testing to identify and fix defects. Deployment: Deploy the completed system to users. Maintenance: Provide ongoing support and maintenance.

Advantages:

Clear structure and well-defined phases.

Documentation at each stage.

Predictable timelines and costs.

Disadvantages: Limited flexibility for changes after the project starts.

Late feedback on the final product.

Risk of customer dissatisfaction if initial requirements are misunderstood.

Use Case: Waterfall is suitable for projects with well-defined requirements and stable environments where changes are expected to be minimal.

3. DevOps: Definition: DevOps (Development and Operations) is a set of practices that aim to automate and improve the collaboration between software development and IT operations. The goal is to shorten the development lifecycle, deliver high-quality software, and foster a culture of continuous integration and delivery.

Key Practices: Continuous Integration (CI): Merge code changes frequently and automatically test them.

Continuous Delivery/Deployment (CD): Automate the release and deployment processes.

Collaboration: Promote collaboration and communication between development and operations teams.

Advantages: Faster delivery of software. Reduced manual errors through automation. Improved collaboration and communication.

Use Case: DevOps is suitable for organizations aiming to achieve faster and more reliable delivery of software through the automation of development, testing, and deployment processes.

#mktmarketing4you #distributionchannels #HoshinPlanning #Leanmethods #marketing #M4Y #lovemarketing #IPAM #ipammarketingschool #Kanban #ContingencyPlanning #virtual #volunteering #project #Management #Economy #ConsumptionBehavior #BrandManagement #ProductManagement #Logistics #Lifecycle #Brand #Neuromarketing #McKinseyMatrix #Breakevenanalysis #innovation #Facebook #icebergmodel #EdgarScheinsCultureModel #STARMethod #VRIO #7SFramework #gapanalysis #AIDAModel #SixLeadershipStyles #MintoPyramidPrinciple #StrategyDiamond #InternalRateofReturn #irr #BrandManagement #dripmodel #HoshinPlanning #XMatrix #backtobasics #BalancedScorecard #Product #ProductManagement #Logistics #Branding #freemium #businessmodel #business #4P #3C #BCG #SWOT #TOWS #EisenhowerMatrix #Study #marketingresearch #marketer #marketing manager #Painpoints #Pestel #ValueChain # VRIO #marketingmix We also left a video about Lean vs Agile vs Waterfall | What is Lean | Difference between Waterfall and Agile and that could help you. Later we will leave one about Kanban:

[erpadvisorsgroup]

There are 1000 ways to get your ERP Selection wrong, so how can you ensure you get yours right?

Successful businesses lean on #ERP selection consultants to guide their needs analysis and software evaluation. An advisor can make sure you are absolutely certain you select the right software and implementation services for your company.

On the next episode of The ERP Advisor, Shawn Windle, EAG's Founder and Managing Principal, and Ryan Baca, Director, will break down the reasons why you should hire an ERP selection consultant.

The webinar takes place on Thursday, May 15th at 2:00pm EDT (11:00am PDT). Don't miss out on this valuable information, register and reserve your spot today!