#Smart gate solutions

[lifestyleblogeruk]

Enhancing Security and Convenience: Upgrading Your Automatic Gate with Repairs

An automatic gate provides a valuable layer of security and convenience for your property, whether it's a residential or commercial space. However, like any mechanical system, automatic gates require regular maintenance and occasional repairs to ensure optimal performance and extend their lifespan. In this blog, we will explore how upgrading your automatic gate with repairs can enhance both security and convenience.

1. Strengthening Security:

A properly functioning automatic gate serves as a strong deterrent to potential intruders and unauthorized access. Upgrading your gate with timely repairs ensures that all security features are in optimal working condition. From gate sensors and intercom systems to access control mechanisms, each component plays a crucial role in safeguarding your property.

Repair and Calibration of Gate Sensors: Gate sensors are essential for detecting movement and preventing the gate from closing on objects or people. Regular repairs and calibration of these sensors ensure accurate detection, minimizing the risk of accidents and damage.

Intercom and Access Control Repairs: A malfunctioning intercom or access control system can compromise the security of your property. Upgrading and repairing these communication features enable smooth and secure entry for authorized personnel while denying access to unauthorized individuals.

Enhancing Convenience:

An automatic gate enhances the convenience of accessing your property. Upgrading your gate with repairs ensures that it operates smoothly and consistently, providing a seamless experience for residents, employees, or visitors.

Gate Motor and Operator Repairs: The gate motor and operator are the heart of an automatic gate system. Regular repairs and maintenance of these components ensure reliable gate operation, reducing the risk of unexpected breakdowns and inconveniences.

Remote Control and Mobile App Repairs: Modern automatic gates often come with remote controls or mobile apps for easy operation. Repairing and upgrading these features allow for convenient gate control from the comfort of your vehicle or smartphone.

3. Extending Lifespan:

Routine repairs and proactive maintenance are essential to extend the lifespan of your automatic gate. Upgrading worn-out or damaged components ensures that your gate operates optimally, reducing the risk of costly replacements in the future.

Gate Track and Roller Repairs: The gate track and rollers are subjected to constant stress from frequent opening and closing. Upgrading and repairing these components prevent gate misalignment and reduce wear and tear, prolonging the gate's lifespan.

Weatherproofing and Rust Protection: Weather conditions and rust can take a toll on the gate's structural integrity. Repairs and upgrades involving weatherproofing and rust protection measures preserve the gate's appearance and functionality, especially in harsh environments.

In conclusion, upgrading your automatic gate with repairs not only enhances security but also boosts convenience and extends the gate's lifespan. To ensure these benefits, it is advisable to seek professional assistance from experienced automatic gate repair specialists. Regular maintenance and timely repairs will keep your gate operating at its best, providing you with enhanced security and ease of access for years to come. Remember, a well-maintained automatic gate is an investment that pays off in terms of safety, convenience, and peace of mind.

[parkomax]

Enhancing Safety and Convenience with Smart Visitor Entry Management for Beaches

Beaches are vibrant public spaces that attract thousands of visitors every day—especially during peak seasons. With this influx comes the need for a well-organised and secure entry system to ensure safety, crowd control, and efficient visitor experiences. Traditional manual systems are often slow, error-prone, and incapable of handling large crowds seamlessly. That’s where smart Visitor Entry Management Systems (VEMS) come into play.

In this article, we explore how implementing a Visitor Entry Management System for beaches can streamline operations, enhance security, and offer a modern, tech-enabled experience for beachgoers and management authorities alike.

Why Beaches Need Visitor Entry Management Systems

Beaches, especially those in popular tourist areas, face unique challenges when it comes to managing access and crowd control. Unregulated access can lead to:

Overcrowding

Safety concerns

Revenue leakages in paid-entry setups

Difficulty in emergency evacuations

Vandalism and littering

A visitor entry management system, tailored for beaches, helps address these issues by offering automated access control, real-time visitor tracking, ticketing integration, and more—all while improving operational efficiency and visitor satisfaction.

Key Features of Parkomax’s Beach Visitor Entry Management Solution

Parkomax’s solution is designed with scalability and convenience in mind. Here are some standout features that make it ideal for beach environments:

1. Automated Entry and Exit Gates

Integrated with RFID, QR code, or biometric verification, these gates allow for contactless, quick entry and exit, minimising wait times and reducing congestion during peak hours.

2. Digital Ticketing System

Visitors can pre-book entry tickets via a mobile app or website. On-site kiosks and QR-based walk-in ticketing systems are also available, reducing the need for manual intervention and cash transactions.

3. Real-Time Visitor Monitoring

Get live data on the number of people currently at the beach, entry and exit logs, and historical records. This data helps in ensuring that the beach does not exceed its safe carrying capacity and aids in emergency preparedness.

4. Access Control for Specific Zones

Some beach zones may be restricted to VIP guests, families, or maintenance personnel. Parkomax enables zone-based access, ensuring only authorised individuals enter designated areas.

5. Integration with Parking and Amenities

The system can be seamlessly integrated with beach parking management, food court access, and locker usage. One unified platform offers control over multiple touchpoints of a visitor’s journey.

6. Weather and Emergency Alerts

Smart alerts can be broadcast via digital signage or mobile notifications for sudden weather changes, high tides, or emergency evacuations.

Benefits of Implementing Visitor Entry Management at Beaches

✔ Improved Safety and Crowd Control

By knowing exactly how many people are on the premises at any given time, beach authorities can avoid overcrowding, manage social distance if needed, and respond effectively during emergencies.

✔ Enhanced Visitor Experience

No more long queues or manual registrations. The system enables swift entry and exit, digital payments, and smooth navigation throughout the beach facilities.

✔ Revenue Protection and Transparency

For paid-entry beaches, automated ticketing and access control ensure accurate revenue collection and eliminate human errors or fraud.

✔ Data-driven Insights

Historical data can be used to analyse visitor trends, peak hours, and seasonal footfall. This helps in resource planning, staffing, and event scheduling.

✔ Environment-friendly Operations

Minimising the use of paper tickets and manual logs contributes to greener, more sustainable beach management practices.

Use Cases: How Different Beaches Can Benefit

Public Beaches: Efficient handling of large crowds with real-time capacity control and mobile ticketing.

Resort Beaches: Seamless integration with hotel check-ins, allowing exclusive guest access.

Event-based Beach Access: Streamlined entry for concerts, beach sports, or night-time festivals with temporary access zones and pass scanning.

Implementation and Customisation

Parkomax understands that no two beaches are the same. Whether it's a family-friendly beach, a high-tourist traffic zone, or a private beach resort, the system can be customised to suit different needs. Installation includes:

Entry/Exit kiosks or turnstiles

Backend admin dashboard

Mobile and web interface for visitors

On-site support and training

Why Choose Parkomax?

With a proven track record in smart parking, visitor entry, and access management systems, Parkomax brings advanced technology, robust design, and user-centric interfaces to public space management. Our beach-specific solution is weather-resistant, easy to maintain, and scalable for future expansions.

Conclusion

Beaches are more than just recreational spots—they are dynamic ecosystems requiring thoughtful management. A Visitor Entry Management System tailored for beaches not only brings structure to visitor access but also uplifts the overall beachgoing experience. With Parkomax, beach authorities can embrace a future-ready approach to safety, efficiency, and sustainability.

Upgrade your beach with Parkomax’s Smart Visitor Entry Management today!

[teamvisual]

[rakesh-snike]

Elevator Designing Company in Dombivli

Elevate your building's elegance with our top-rated elevator designing company in Dombivali.Rohit elevator customized solutions to seamlessly integrate style and functionality in your vertical transportation needs.

[thirdeye-ai]

Smart Gate & ANPR Solutions

Unlocking seamless security and efficiency, our Smart Gate & ANPR Solutions integrate cutting-edge technology. With real-time object detection, image processing, OCR, smart parking management, and vehicle tracking, we redefine access control and surveillance. Experience enhanced security and streamlined operations in residential, commercial, and industrial settings. Trust our innovative solution to elevate your security infrastructure to new heights.

[ryuzakemo128]

MDNI 18+ Omegaverse Part 2

Part One

Note: Big things happens in this continuation.

word count: 1542

Omegaverse Parts: Part One + Part Two + Part Three + Part Four

Masterlist

Ghost still remembered how you were standing on top of the building when you shot the tracking bullet into his shoulder. You didn’t aim to kill, maim? Sure. You don’t take lives. You just run from others and keep them tagged for as long as possible to know where they would be. You didn’t care if they were special operatives or the Queen of fucking England. No one had the right to have you or own you. Ever. 

“I still remember how Price thought you were seeing things.” Soap snickered, “I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, whatever it is, just produced a strong smell of vinegar and my nose is hurting.” Gaz complained, whined, even. Your makeshift solution is working to your advantage. Even if it's drowning your dirty, grimy baggy clothes under hot water and white vinegar. They’ll end up trying again quite soon.

As you got changed into clean clothes, your naked body came into the view of the door window. Which to Soap? It was like he hit the fucking jackpot. Watching you pull on medical scrubs. Soap saw your back tattoo, “The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labour lies.”

Soap yanked Price over to take a look at your tattoo. His hunch told him something, you weren’t just anyone, and you weren’t just a random omega the General wanted to contain. “I don’t think we know nearly as much about her as we think we do.” Soap told him, dragging him to the window and shoving the binoculars into Price’s hands. 

Gaz remembered your herbal cigarettes, the lavender burning and how Price would try to scold you for your habit. “And what? Leave you smoked up like a bastard in heat or somethin?” you told Price. Breathing lavender scented smoke into Price’s facial direction. Dodging his attempts to snatch the cigarette from you.

Price, at the time, growled, “What is with you? You’re slipperier than a greased-up pig at a county fair, and more elusive than the fucking Loch Ness monster.” The spunk you had before? Increased tenfold. 

“Look at you, tripping over yourselves still, fucking alphas who can’t track for shit huh?” you taunted with your walkie-talkie you found in the office. “Round And Round It Goes... Where It Stops, Nobody Knows. Round and round you go, when will I stop? Nobody knows.” 

You grabbed your stuff, and you left really fast, “Tell your mother I’ll fuck her soon.” you spoke into the walkie-talkie. 

“We’ve got to get to her before she’s gone. She’s a fucking ghost, we’ve been tracking her for months, and she’s always one step ahead of us. This might be our only chance before she disappears again.” Price told them. Soap was too distracted by the fact you flash banged him with your gorgeous fucking tits. 

Which Price had to admit? A smart thing to do when you’re dealing with four hungry, aroused alphas on your tail. Your tits were a flash beacon even after you headed out of the room with your gear. The limping of your leg and once soap has you in his grasp again? He wouldn’t let you go again. 

Crawling through the ventilator shaft, until you were dragged out by your feet by someone strong enough to get you out of there, and his deep voice hitting the base of your skull like a drum. 

Dragging you from the vent, one swift tug at a time. Before long, you were carried over to Price and Ghost. With Gaz stalking right behind him, intensely staring at you from behind Soap. He had you draped over his right shoulder and your belongings in his other hand. While Gaz carried your sniper and bone knife. 

Once Price taken a closer look at you, removing your shirt and replacing it with a clean, warm, dry shirt. As Price looked for one suitable. 

Soap’s eyes widened as he recognised the tattoo. He’s seen it once before. It’s an incredibly specific tattoo. Only one person he knew of had it. Someone who was thought to be dead. Yet here you were. Very much…..alive. Running around like a scared rabbit. Soap’s heart is racing. 

He knew you weren’t going to go with them quietly. Not with that tattoo.

“Guys, I think we might have stumbled upon someone important, she’s not what we thought she was.” Soap whispered to Ghost outside the medical examination room. 

Ghost looked at Soap sceptically, “What do you mean, Mactavish?”

Soap took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice calm, “The tattoo on her back. It’s not from a book, it’s from a person. The person who had it is... or was... a legend around these parts.” He paused, his eyes searching the room as if he could see through the walls. “Her callsign was Venom, one of the best snipers the military had, until she disappeared. She was thought to be dead after her last mission, but if this is her... she’s been hiding here all along.”

Price’s eyes narrowed as he digested the information. “Venom? That’s a name I’ve heard before. If she’s who you think she is, then she’s worth more than gold to Shepherd. We can’t let her go.” He turned to Gaz, his voice low and commanding. “Keep an eye on the exits, she’s clever. We don’t want her slipping away again.”

Still processing the information, his gaze sharp and calculating. “If that’s true, then we might have a bigger problem on our hands. Get a clearer visual, Soap, and make sure it’s her. We don’t want to spook her before we get a good look at her face and confirm her identity.”

Soap nodded, his eyes glued to the small window in the door of the medical examination room. “On it, boss.” He whispered back, his heart racing with excitement and a hint of fear. Venom was a legend, known for her sharp-shooting skills and unyielding spirit. If she had indeed survived, she would be a powerful ally or a formidable enemy.

Then she would be you, wouldn’t you? When he saw your face? Soap held the new photo with the one they have. They were a perfect match. You were indeed ‘Venom’. A legend from their annals of history straight into his sight. 

He felt his cock thicken, a growling in his chest, his animalistic instincts were now coming to the forefront.

“It’s her, boss. No doubt about it. She’s Venom. I’ve seen that tattoo before, on the back of the woman who trained me.” Soap said with a mix of awe and fear. “I don’t think anyone is crazy enough to be out here for this long. 

Price's eyebrows furrowed, “Venom… I thought she was dead. General Shepherd killed her.”

“So did everyone else,” Soap replied, “But she's very much alive, and she's in heat. We need to handle this with care. She's not going to come quietly. Or willingly for that matter.”

Price nodded in understanding, his mind racing with the implications of this revelation.“Alright, keep an eye on her. She's a ghost for a reason.” He turned to Ghost, “What do we know about her other than that she's a damn good shot?”

Ghost's eyes narrowed as he recalled the intel he had read, “Venom went dark after her last mission. Rumour has it she took out a high-value target that was off-limits. Her disappearance was sudden, and her file was sealed tighter than a drum. If she's the one in there, she's got a vendetta with someone or something, and it's not us.”

“But she's in heat,” Gaz pointed out, his voice thick with the same primal need Soap had felt earlier. “That….. That changes things completely.”

Ghost nodded, his voice a low rumble, “It does. She'll be more… vulnerable. Hesitant to trust.”

“Vulnerable or not,” Soap said, “We can't just barge in there. We need to earn her trust”

“But how? She’s not going to listen, and she’s stubborn like Price.” Gaz said, stroking his jaw, contemplating their next move.

“You’ve been out here the entire time?” Price asked you, both in awe, frustration and a little admiration in his tone. “You’ve been living out here alone all this time?”

“You make it sound far harder than it actually is. Did General Shepherd let you think that, or are you really that stupid enough to think it?” you answered. “With the right kind of knowledge, you can go far and wide. Took out the tracker from my neck, day one, surprised you pups are still working for that bitch.” 

General Shepherd. You were at odds with him from the sound of things. Whether that was a good thing or not? Another thing entirely. Another thing which now had to wait until they had you removed from this ancient building. Regardless of whether you wanted to leave it or not.

“So are you workin for him or what?” you growled. 

“That’s none of your fucken business.” Price snarled at you.

“I think it is and you’re going to tell me regardless of what you think or how you feel about it too.”

[justporo]

Astarion making use of his skills to help Wyll

Shamelessly using this for an original post because I like the idea too much! Spoilers ahead, be warned!

So, as this post imagined (and thanks for @daedriclys for tagging me):

What if Astarion just went "ahem, I'd actually like to take a look at this legal document, thank you very much!" and went to help Wyll with his contract by Mizora.

I'd love to see how Astarion would take the opportunity to do something good for someone else because personal growth and redemption. Also this fucking devil can eat shit, Astarion's tired of people being forced into slavery.

So he fiercly interrupts and demands that Wyll will have at least a day to review the contract and when Mizora agrees through gritted teeth, the party gets to work: Astarion admits that he might be a little rusty and that he was shit at his job back then, but he's dead set on making this one thing right. (Also we know he knows history, so I feel it's not hard to imagine him being a bit scholarly and enjoying to learn things and figure stuff out - also he is smart!)

So he drags the whole party to where he knows is a Law library in Baldur's Gate and tries to find out everything on these kinds of contracts. He goes over the contract again and again trying to find ways out for Wyll while everyone else has turned into his research assistants (Gale is obviously his lead researcher because that man knows his way around a library). ("No, Karlach, it's 'pacta sunt servanda', spelled p-a-c-t-ugh, you know what, please let someone help you with looking for it!")

They spend the whole 24 hours to work out the best possible solution and when Mizora comes back her jaw is on the floor because not only did her plan not work, Astarion got Wyll some compensation and a severance-package worked out and might even sue. Also Astarion reads out every single term and condition and exactly decodes why it is shitty and wrong and why the wording could have used some work, all in his sassy little tone - while Mizora is fuming, but she has to listen to it, because formalities will have it that way.

And Astarion might play it down afterwards for just liking the challenge but he's actually so happy he could actually use his specific knowledge to help someone - and kinda remedy some of his past wrongdoings.

[ll7esxs]

hmm what about enemies to lovers w/ Kick? Kind of going along with the head cannons you made of why they don’t like you. Sorry if it’s not much, I fear that’s the best my mind can make up 😔

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ˚｡⋆♡༘˚ ❀ੈ♡˳───────𖤐˚︵︵˚𖤐───────♡ੈ❀

✧ 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: Enemies to lovers with kick ✧ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌: Call of Duty Ghosts ✧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Kick ✧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Character X G!N! reader! ✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: Slow burn, enemies to lovers ✧ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Verbal conflict, emotional tension, enemies-to-lovers dynamic ✧ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4030

The First Meet

You were former field intel—trained, tested, and hardened. Sharp in both strategy and aim. When they assigned you to dual-capable support, it wasn’t a promotion, it was a need. A solution. Someone who could bridge both ends of the op.

The assignment to the Ghosts' station wasn’t by your request. It was abrupt, high-priority. They didn’t want just anyone—they needed someone who could run comms, decrypt under pressure, and still hit targets without hesitation. That someone was you.

You walk into the base’s comms bay for the first time. The air is cool, the low hum of screens buzzing. You crack the door open slightly, not wanting to interrupt.

He’s there—locked in, eyes narrowed, sharp brows drawn in deep concentration. He doesn’t even glance your way. Maybe didn’t hear you. Maybe he did, and just didn’t care.

But from that first glimpse, you could already tell: he’s the type who doesn’t waste focus. And now, you were stepping into his world.

He doesn’t look up when you walk in. Voice low, flat, and laced with sarcasm: “If you’re delivering coffee, make it strong. If not, I need some cigarettes.”

You glance sideways, unimpressed but unmoved. Cool and composed. “I’m your new handler for recon data.”

That’s when he pauses. Eyes lift to meet yours.

Amber—no, gold, almost glowing under the wash of the screen light. A fleeting moment of surprise flashes across his face, subtle but there.

“Oh. Good,” he says, finally leaning back in his chair, tone dry as ever. “Try not to fry my drive like the last guy did.”

You arch a brow. The game had begun—and clearly, this wasn’t going to be a quiet assignment.

You didn’t flinch. Just crossed your arms and replied coolly, “Not here to babysit any driver. Just to make sure you don’t brick the mission while you're being clever.”

That was it—the spark. The gate to the classic enemies-to-lovers chaos creaked open right then and there.

He didn’t hate you, no. But damn, did he dislike you. The attitude, the sharp tongue, the way you came in like you already had the place mapped. Kick couldn’t stand people who came off too smart, too fast. Especially ones who mirrored his own bite.

He paused, your words hanging in the air, then sighed—lips twitching into a slow, amused smile. He stood, gaze leveled, one brow raised. “What did you just say to me?”

You didn’t back down. “Well, Kick, I’ve heard what you did when you first—”

He cut you off with a scoff, “Yeah, did. And what is it? ‘Bygones be bygones’? English not your first language or somethin’?”

That was the first round. A volley of sharp words and stubborn faces. Neither of you backed off—and maybe that’s exactly why it started to matter.

The Tension Builds

Week one? It’s a cold war dressed as teamwork.

You deliver your part of the job—clean, precise. He mocks you with nothing but a look, that infuriating half-lidded stare like he's already picked apart everything you've done. You feel it.

He delivers next—and you critique, straight-faced, surgical with your words. Every joint task turns into a quiet, brutal game of chess.

When you double-check his system patch before a field op, he doesn’t argue. Just shrugs, clicks a few keys, and redoes it. Not because he cares—no. But to let you know he really doesn’t care.

Later, during a mission brief, you silently reach into his routing code and correct it mid-scan. Not flashy. Not even out loud. Just enough to keep the op running clean.

Hours later, when the tension is finally dying down, his voice cuts in behind you—low, even: “I thought I told you not to touch the codes I work on again.”

You don’t even turn around. You’re trying to enjoy what little peace you’ve got.

With a sigh, you reply, “It’s my job too. What if the data report was filled with fake intel?”

There’s a pause. And behind you, you swear you hear the smallest scoff of approval—buried in annoyance.

Yeah. Cold war. For now.

Kick isn’t the type to beef. He doesn’t waste time on ego games—too seasoned, too practical. If it doesn't serve the mission, it’s noise.

So after that first week of sparks and code edits, the tension just… fizzles. Not into warmth, not yet—but into mutual exhaustion. You both have work to do, and not enough energy to keep clashing.

The coldest thing he does is withhold. Support, emotion, any trace of personal investment—he keeps it all sealed behind that quiet, unreadable calm.

And because you're both adults, professionals, and frankly too tired to keep drawing battle lines, it just... levels out.

One evening, over systems check, he says it offhand while typing: “Didn’t think I’d meet someone here who could keep up. You’re not half bad.”

It catches you off guard. You look over, blinking. “You either…”

No smile. No softness. But it lands different. Not flirty. Not dramatic. Just… respect, finally cracked open.

After that, the silence shifts. Not cold anymore—charged. You feel him watching during ops. Long glances. Nothing said.

Kick doesn’t fall fast. He fights it, like it’s some mission breach.

But you got under his skin. And he’s not used to bleeding quietly.

The quiet understanding? Gone. Work’s tense now—not personal, but pressure-cooked from the mission load.

Kick’s hunched over the relay case, calibrating for the infiltration op. You spot a flicker—diagnostic lag. Instinct kicks in. You override part of the setup without asking.

His jaw tightens instantly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You don’t back down.

“Fixing what you missed. You forgot to compensate for the static backflow on the east relay. If I hadn’t—”

“If?” he cuts in, voice sharper now, “You wanna bet comms failing mid-op on your name? Because I don’t.”

He snatches the cable from your hand. You don’t flinch.

“I’ve pulled people out of worse with a busted mic and a bent antenna. You don’t get to lecture me like I’m green.”

That’s the crack. The voice raises. The weight of the job pressing down.

His reply is low, clipped:

“Then stop acting like it. You want this job or a pissing contest?”

It hangs in the air. Both of you glaring, hearts racing—not because of each other, but because everything around you is too much.

The tension erasing slowly

You and Kick were on the same field support op. You were almost pinned in crossfire during retreat — and he didn't loop your comm in time.

When it’s over, you're walking back into the safehouse. He’s trying to defuse it with nothing.

Inside, Kick’s already ditched his vest, silent as ever. When you step in, he looks up only briefly and mutters: “Good to see you alive.”

It’s stiff. Distant. Not like him—not after months of working together, knowing each other’s tones, silences, everything.

You pause. Then exhale with a dry, tired smile, eyes half-lidded like sleep was dragging you down where you stood. “I think if I had gone down, you’d still be making jokes about it.”

He doesn’t answer right away. You finally lift your gaze to his—and for once, it’s not guarded.

Just worn. Jaw tight. Guilt sitting somewhere behind those amber eyes.

It hits. Hard. You can see it in his eyes—no snark, no defensive walls. Just a raw, quiet thing that makes the whole room feel smaller.

Kick doesn’t say anything, but that look of his? It’s a heavy one. Like it’s all falling into place—things he doesn’t want to admit.

“Oh man…” he mutters, eyes narrowing, face still as stone. “Can’t believe you. After months of working and enduring my asshole behaviors, you now think I don’t care if you die? I thought you were good at reading people.”

You tilt your head, something sharp flickering behind your eyes. You step closer, voice steady but cutting: “I think you care more about being right than being reliable.”

The words sting. You see the tension coil in his shoulders, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle, though it’s tight. “You really know how to make a guy want to punch drywall, you know that?”

You can’t help it. You chuckle too���half tired, half bitter, but there’s something else there too. Maybe relief. “And yet you’re still standing here.”

For a moment, the air is thick. Neither of you makes a move, just standing there, locked in a silent tug-of-war.

Kick’s gaze softens for a brief moment—something you’ve never seen before, not from him. A flicker of warmth, quickly buried beneath that hard exterior.

He doesn’t say much, just that small, almost begrudging smile tugging at the corner of his lips. And then, the words come, slow and heavy like he’s not sure he even believes them himself. “You did good, Y/N... And don’t make me regret saying it again.”

You don’t respond. You’re too tired, too caught off guard by the rare glimpse of approval to even form the words.

He doesn’t wait for your reply. He just turns and walks out, leaving you standing there, staring after him as the door closes.

You shake your head with a quiet exhale. It’s not the apology you expected. It’s not the comfort you wanted. But maybe... maybe it’s enough.

Well, he’s not that bad.

You don’t know how long you stand there, but when you finally leave the room, the weight of the mission and the weight of what’s been said still hangs in the air. Neither one of you has said the things that need saying, but for once, you both understand.

After that moment, everything between you and Kick shifts. It’s not obvious—no sudden confessions or grand gestures. It’s in the quiet, the moments when the tension between you both starts to loosen just a little, bit by bit.

You find yourself slipping into conversations with him that you never thought you’d have. No more sharp words or unspoken grudges. Just... talking. Just being.

And you start noticing things. Small things. The way his gaze lingers for a moment longer than usual. The soft exhale he lets out when he’s finally out of a mission zone, or when his eyes catch yours unexpectedly. It’s almost like he’s letting you in without even realizing it.

One night, the conversation shifts. You’re sitting in the mess hall, the low hum of conversation around you, but the two of you are lost in your own little world.

You catch yourself asking, voice softer than you expect: “You ever get tired of this? The waiting. The quiet. The silence just before it all goes to hell?”

Kick’s brows furrow, a rare sign of uncertainty, as he thinks about the question. The silence stretches, and you wonder if you’ve asked something too deep.

Finally, he answers, voice low and steady: “Sometimes. But not right now.”

You don’t say anything after that. You just let the quiet settle in, the unspoken weight of his words lingering between you both. He’s not exactly opening up, but he’s still here. Present. And that, for now, is enough.

Kick’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let silence last too long. He’ll fill it with something—anything—to break the tension. Whether it’s rambling about the latest op or ranting about some random thing that’s bothering him, he’s always got something to say.

And you get used to it, the way his voice cuts through the quiet, his words bouncing off the walls, pulling you into his world. It’s just who he is, a talker at heart.

But there’s something else you notice too, something that shifts over time. You’re sitting together one evening, the air thick with unspoken words. Kick leans back, hand instinctively reaching for a cigarette, but before he lights it, he looks over at you.

“See? You’re not bad when you don’t smoke.”

You say it lightly, but you know there’s a part of him that’s changed. That used to be a constant, the cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a shield. But now, with you? He’s different.

Kick just shrugs, a half-smirk tugging at his lips, that familiar glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah? Don’t get used to it.”

And maybe, just maybe, you do get used to it. The way he’s shifting, the way he’s adapting, even if he won’t admit it. It’s not about the smoking anymore. It’s about him—about how he's willing to change little things for you, even if he won’t fully acknowledge it.

You’ve never been one to fish for validation. It’s not your style. But when Kick starts running his mouth—those familiar lines about things being “too easy” or “not challenging enough”—it’s hard not to notice the pattern. It starts sounding like a broken record, and you can't help but wonder if there's a part of him trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

You catch him in the middle of one of his rants, watching him as he struggles just a little—nothing big, but enough to make you think. It’s like he’s pretending not to feel the weight of it all.

You can’t help but tease him, leaning in just enough to throw him off balance with a suggestion: “If you need something, just ask, alright? I can... run a search, or fix something.”

He just glances at you, barely pausing from his task, a shrug in his voice as he responds: “Well, yeah. I’m good, thanks.”

You shake your head, about to head back to your own work, but something pulls you back to him, that nagging feeling that he won’t admit it even when he needs help.

“I mean, you could use someone to keep up with you.”

For the first time, there's a pause. Then, he looks up at you with a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah? Guess you’re stronger than I thought.”

It’s said lightly, but you both know it means something more than just a casual comment. Something shifts in the air, a quiet acknowledgment between you two. And for a second, it feels like the walls between you are a little thinner.

When it broke all

You're now sitting in front of Kick, the room dim and quiet after the medic left. Just the two of you now, a low hum from some overhead light filling the silence. He’d been patched up — nothing too crazy, but still enough to make you wince when you looked at him. Scrapes, bruises, a stitched gash or two. The usual. His job was always messy like that. Being a tech specialist didn’t mean he got to sit behind a desk — more like crawling through collapsed buildings or trying to hack a terminal while bullets flew past his head.

You watched him breathe for a second. Still alive. Still stubborn. And then, you broke the silence.

“You know, at some point,” you said, pulling your legs up a little, “you’ll run out of places to get shot.”

He tilted his head toward you with a lazy half-smirk. “Then I’ll finally be symmetrical. Bonus.”

You didn’t smile. Not exactly. But something softened in your face. Maybe your eyes stayed on him a second too long. Long enough for him to notice, anyway. His smirk didn’t fade, but it quieted.

You reached over to the medkit sitting beside you, flipping it open with one hand, fingers sorting through gauze and antiseptic pads. You pulled out what you needed and glanced at him — a look that said, "May I?"

He just gave a slow nod, the kind he gave when words weren’t worth the effort. So you moved in closer, Your hands, still chilled from the metal table, met warm skin just below where the bandage ended. He stiffened. Just barely — the kind of flinch someone doesn’t mean to make.

“Sorry,” you murmured, not sure if you were apologizing for the cold or the closeness. Maybe both.

You leaned in a bit more, just slightly, head dipping down for a better angle. It wasn’t anything romantic — not intentionally — just practical. Close work meant being close. That’s all. But still, you could feel the space between you shrink. His breath slowed. You didn’t say anything about it, just started cleaning the wound, your touch careful.

He didn’t joke this time. Didn’t move. Just sat there, letting you patch him up again like he always did.

And you… you stayed right there, pretending your hands didn’t tremble a little as they brushed across the side of someone you were trying way too hard not to care about.

“From what I’ve heard,” you say quietly, eyes still on the angry red line across his skin, “the Federation had your photo on a kill list.”

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. But something shifts in his eyes — a flicker, like a match catching fire for a split second before going dark again. He looks at you then, not startled, not angry. Just... watching. Like he’s trying to read between your words, see what you’re really asking.

Kick’s voice comes out low, dry, like gravel under boots. “Yeah. I figured someone would’ve mentioned that.”

You don’t meet his gaze. Your hands keep working, steady and careful, cleaning the edge of the wound like it’s just another scrape on just another day. But the silence between your words carries weight.

“Doesn’t mean you stop being careful,” you mutter, not accusing, not gentle either — just honest.

His chest rises slowly under your fingers. A long breath in. He’s not the type to make promises. You both know that. But maybe that wasn’t what you were asking for.

Maybe you just wanted him to understand that someone is still watching, still keeping track of where he bleeds.

And maybe, just maybe, he already does.

“You knew. About the list.” His voice was low, like he was talking more to himself than to you. “And you’re still with me. Others would just be scared shitless for their lives.”

He said it like it didn’t matter — like it rolled off him easy. But it didn’t. You could hear the way he tried to bury the edge in his tone, how he made it a statement instead of a question just so he didn’t sound like he needed the answer.

You kept your eyes on his chest, still dabbing at the edge of the wound, slow and steady. The smell of antiseptic filled the air between you, sharp and clean.

“I’m your second on field,” you said simply. “I don’t abandon people mid-mission.”

A pause. The kind that stretched just long enough for him to maybe say something, but he didn’t. So you did.

Softer this time. Almost quiet enough to be missed if he wasn’t already listening.

“And you’re not just anyone out there.”

His breath caught — just a little. And your hand stayed right where it was, resting lightly against his chest, waiting.

Neither of you moved.

You don’t even realize how close you are until the air between you starts to feel thinner, heavier — like breathing takes just a little more effort now. Like something’s shifted and neither of you wants to name it.

Then his hand grazes your waist. Just that — a brush of skin, rough calluses against your ribs.

There’s no dramatic moment, no sharp inhale or trembling gasp. Just stillness. A long, weighty kind of silence where your eyes find his — and stay there.

You glance down, almost unsure, to where his fingers now rest gently against your waist. His hand, worn and scarred from years in the field, strong and steady, holding you like something fragile. Your eyes lift back to his, and there’s a quiet frown between your brows, your lips slightly parted, voice barely a breath.

“…Kick…”

But he’s already watching you. Expecting you. Like he knew this moment would come, he’d just been waiting for it to land.

“Yes, love.”

And then he leans in. Not reckless, not urgent. Just slow. Careful. Like he’s giving you every chance to stop him — but you don’t.

You don’t step back. You just meet him halfway.

The kiss isn’t soft, but it’s not rushed either. There’s no hesitation in it, only weight — the weight of everything unsaid, everything felt but never spoken. It’s steady. Grounded. Like both of you had been carrying something too heavy for too long, and now, just for this moment, you’ve found somewhere to set it down.

You stay there — not in a rush to pull away. Because this… this was never about timing.

The first kiss might’ve been steady — a question asked in silence — but the second… the second burns.

You don’t know who moved first, maybe it was both of you at once, but suddenly it’s not careful anymore. It’s need — sharp and unspoken — rushing in like a tide neither of you can stop.

You slip your hands up around his neck, fingers curling at the nape, holding on like you’re afraid letting go will break whatever this is. His hands find your waist, rough and certain, pulling you closer — close enough to feel his heartbeat, fast and hard against your chest.

Your mouths find each other again, this time deeper, messier, hungrier. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask for permission anymore — it just takes. There’s heat in it now, in the way his lips press against yours, in the low, raw grunt he lets out when your nails brush against the back of his neck.

Both of you have your eyes shut, not needing to see when you can feel everything. The tension, the years of pretending, the battlefield closeness that’s finally collapsed in on itself — it’s all there, pressed between you.

And in that breathless space, nothing else exists. Not the mission. Not the kill list. Not the war outside the door.

Just you and Kick — two people who’ve seen too much, lost too much — finally letting themselves want something. Even just for a minute.

You both pulled back from the kiss, breathing a little uneven, like the air had changed shape around you and neither of you were quite ready to speak yet. The space between you hummed, charged and warm, and for a second, all you could do was look at him.

Then you smiled, crooked and knowing. “I just… I know it’s not your first time, Kick.”

He raised a brow at you “Damn. You got me. I was gonna ask if you’d sign my yearbook,” he said, deadpan, like the two of you were in some high school hallway instead of a half-lit room that still smelled like antiseptic and smoke.

You snorted. Just a little. But it slipped out, and he caught it.

He leaned back, still perched on the cot, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room. Which, let’s be honest, you were.

“So?” he asked, half-teasing. “Was it at least top five?”

You gave him a look, unimpressed but amused. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Fine?” His voice pitched up, full mock quite outrage. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“You had a mild concussion and at least two broken ribs,” you replied, already turning toward the door. “I figured you deserved a morale boost.”

He grinned — smug, even through the wince of pain when he shifted. “Guess I’ll have to earn a real one next time.”

You didn’t answer.

But the silence you left behind wasn’t cold. It wasn’t awkward. It was filled with something heavier — certainty. The kind that didn’t need words, didn’t need to be spelled out.

You paused at the door, hand resting on the frame, and glanced back over your shoulder.

“And for the record,” you said, eyes flicking to his, “top five is generous.”

“Top three,” he called after you, smug as hell. “Don’t lie to yourself!”

You were gone before he saw the smile tug at your lips — that twitch you tried to suppress and failed miserably at.

And Kick leaned back, wincing at his ribs, a hand resting lazily across his chest, still smirking like he’d just won something.

Not bad for a first kiss under fire.

[justshortpedrofics]

Always Comes Back

Wrote this in an hour today after the G2 promo came out. It's not edited, so my apologies for that. I know nothing about the character but he looks good and I couldn't help myself.

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x reader (unspecificed gender, written with a female in mind)

WC: 1.1k

Rating: M for dark themes and some implied smut

Summary: Marcus Acacius always comes back to you, and it's been that way for a long as you can remember.

He always comes back to you. 

He comes back from wherever they’ve sent him to do all of the things that he won’t ever talk about with you, yet he comes straight to you. 

And when he does, you’re there waiting, every single time. 

You’re waiting for him to come back, to come home, even if he can’t call it that anymore. You’re waiting for him to appear in your doorway, his skin bruised and battered, dried blood crusted beneath his nails and in his hair. 

But there’s never blood on his weapons or his armor; he knows better than that - cares more about that part of himself than to ever let something so important go neglected. 

Marcus Acacius doesn’t neglect the things he takes pride in, and you’re one of them. 

His armor is a symbol of his strength, of the victories he’s had on the battlefield in and the rooms of the various castra he’s been housed in. When people see it, they know who he is and what he is capable of. And when people see him, they know it, too. 

He is imposing and fearsome, his full lips more often than not set into a thin line, the man’s brow furrowed as he contemplates what is before him. He is smart and fast, quick with both actions and solutions, his certainty about what must be done inspiring not only the men he leads but those that witness him do so. 

But that isn’t the man you know. 

The man you know - and know well - is the opposite of the one he presents to the public and to the Emperors. 

His hands, so deliberate deadly during battle, touch you with a gentleness he would kill to keep people from knowing he possesses. 

His body, so broad and muscled, perfect for overpowering his enemies and anyone in his way, is used to pleasure yours long into the night. 

His mouth, quick to fire off orders or insults, tone deafening, is nothing less than worshipful of yours, along with your skin. He has never once raised his voice toward you, and he never will; you’re certain of it. 

His eyes, sharp and focused, constantly flitting from one thing to the next to keep himself alert focus only on you -  constantly on you, the softness in them almost enough to make you forget that the time you have together is fleeting. 

There is still enough of him inside the shell of a warrior that you’re able to bring it back each night you spend together, and you’re thankful for it. 

You know that you shouldn’t keep seeing him, keep allowing what is between you to continue. 

You’re well aware of the other woman he shares a bed with and what anyone finding out about you might mean. He would do his best to protect you if the need arose, and you know it. But the simpler thing would be to tell him no, tell him that you cannot watch him walk away from you, time and time again, not knowing what will become of him. That you cannot keep sharing him or his heart or his body, even though you also know that he can’t fully give you anything in entirety, at least yet. 

But after all the years and the battles, after all of the separations and the heartache, after knowing what he does and is expected to do because of his position, he is still not General Acacius to you. 

He’s just Marcus Acacius, the boy you grew up with. The one with dreams and plans, who idolized a different General, many years earlier, and vowed to be just like him someday. He’s the man you shared your first kiss with, just outside of the gates of your home, right before he left to train. He’s the one that came back to you months later, bigger and stronger and still excited for the prospect of more, though you could already see the distance in his eyes.

Marcus took you to bed for the first time that night, solidifying the connection between the two of you. 

When you removed his clothing, gasping at the sight of his body covered in scrapes and bruises, deep purples and blacks and green blooming across his skin, he stayed silent and held you while you kissed every one of them, whispering comfort with each press of your lips. This will heal. You will be fine. You can come home to me and I will do this every time if you let me. I will wait for you. Always. I love you.

And that’s why it’s so hard to let him go; because you love him, and you always have. 

You love him despite the distance. 

You love him despite the pain being without him causes. 

You love him even when he leaves your heart bruised and bloody, in a much different way than he does on the battlefields. 

You love him because even though to you, he will always be Marcus, to them he has become a symbol of so much hope. 

You love him even though you know his love for her has forced his hand, the Emperors using those feelings against him and as punishment to get their way. 

But that makes you love him even more, you think, because while he has allowed them to see what he feels for her, they don’t even know you exist. And to you, that means he keeps you even closer to his heart; keeps you safe and protected at all costs - even that of his own true happiness by prolonging his career and his usefulness. 

His body will break down eventually, and there will be someone younger and stronger in his place, someone more willing to do what he is told. There will be a time when Marcus Acacuis must retire his armor and step back, letting things move forward.

And you’ve talked about that, many times before. What his after would be like, and where you fit in. 

With me, of course. Away from Rome. Away from this. Just the two of us, as it should be. 

And you believe it. 

Because the alternative is unthinkable to you. You refuse to believe that they don’t know you exist because he doesn’t care. You refuse to think that everything he’s ever told you was a lie. You know him better than that; better than anyone, at least according to him. And he wouldn’t have - couldn’t have misled you for years.

So you sit and wait and bide your time with your memories, letting him leave you to fight their wars and do their bidding, to appear with her and appease the people of Rome in a way that makes sense for someone in his position. 

Because he always comes back to you. 

Until he doesn’t.

[chuslitrr]

Jiuyu maybe fic outline maybe constant daydream thingy

Story takes not too much time after Mo Xuanyu is kicked out of the Jin sect (one or two years after this event), so his mental stability is probably way worse than it was in canon at the time for his suicide.

While immortal master Shen Qingqiu visits the Mo State for cultivator stuff (maybe in the same mission the Lans were sent to at the start of the story), where he meets half-crazed Mo Xuanyu and somehow manages to have one or two coherent conversations with the very interesting individual.

His lunacy Is extremely apparent but Shen Qingqiu still finds himself very drawn to Mo Xuanyu, who lucid or not, is clearly very smart and knows stuff Shen Qingqiu would 100% be interested in.

When the time comes for the peak lord to leave the state, already having bonded quite a lot in the time Shen Qingqiu was at the state, he finds his newfound friend at the gates of the manor.

Mo Xuanyu kneels in front of him and begs him to either kill him, or save him out of the graciousness of his heart, offering life-long loyalty to him and knowledge About the Yiling Patriarchs notes he spent so much time memorizing in exchange of at least a bit of security to get him out of the hellish manor he is locked in.

Shen Qingqiu agrees, since he's already been bewitched by this so interesting man who's smarts and looks are being wasted in this lowland village, plus the offer of loyalty sounds like an incredibly tempting solution to the loneliness that has been engraved on his heart for so many decades, no matter how much of a trap the offer may be.

[sareinadale]

i want to connect

Elsa Andersen was at the top of her game when she landed an article in Forbes for her smart business strategies, which resulted in several expansion of her company, Arendelle Gates. her success didn’t extend to her love life, however. until one day, she received a connection request on Linkedin from Hans Westergaard, CEO of The Southern Isles Solutions.

*some fluff, slightly mature, lovers-enemies-potential lovers again, business rivals-lovers au, elsa and hans are CEOs this time.

Originally written as Helsa Secret Santa Gift 2024 for @iambellarose1816

“so it’s true what they say,” she murmurs into his skin, index lightly tracing some small circles on his chest. “anywhere can be a dating site if you try hard enough.” said elsa, merely quoting what someone on the internet once said.

hans chuckled at the thought of it. there’s some merit in that, now that they’ve done it — but he doesn’t know how he pulled her either. one thing was worth it though ; booking a four-star hotel room on a whim because they can’t get their hands off each other at their third date. 

“i thought you were trying to scam me.”

Read more on AO3

—

the premise is originally based on “i banged someone last night and it turns out they’re interviewing me for my new job” EXCEPT they’re not interviewing for a new job but still banged after connecting on linkedin cause he was trying to secure a guarantor to save his dying startup and he’d been aiming for her for some time.

as always, if you guys enjoyed this, please drop a kudos, like, and comment! I look forward to joining Helsa Secret Santa next year <3

[teamvisual]

[sun-marie]

9, 10, and 12 for the oc asks!! Any OC you want (or Lydia :))

-rookamell

thank you for the ask @rookamell!!! For this one I think I'll go with my Tav, Zephyr Skybreeze, from BG3! and then I'll do Lydia after for funsies ;)

Zephyr Skybreeze:

9. Are they based off of you, in some way?

Hm, kinda but not really? I think Zephyr is a lot of things I wish I was (level-headed, disciplined, smart and learned, determined, buff, etc.), but we do share similar values like the importance of non-violent solutions and strong familial connection! Also a footnote in her larger backstory is that she was bullied as a child for being Different™, and that part is somewhat based off of my experience 🥲

10. If they have an LI, how much of their character is tailored to be compatible to that person? 

Honestly, a great deal of her character. I made her with the Intention of romancing Gale from the beginning, and wanted to create someone who was very similar to him, but just to the left (Both extremely knowledgeable and educated, but he got his education from a formal wizard's school while she got she got hers through ancient monastic training, both can command elements like fire and lightning but he uses the weave like an art medium while she uses ki like a dance partner in need of guidance), for that Chemistry. This has, however, motivated me to develop Zephyr, apart from who her LI is, more than some of my other OCs, since I don't want her to just be "Gale's Wife", so stuff like her family history, her pride in being a citizen of Baldur's Gate, and her secret anxieties that she keeps a tight lid on with a myriad of mental and physical exercises were created with the direct intention of fleshing out her own character more <3

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

I'm gonna say probably the blue streaks in her hair, which I had to develop my own new brush in CSP, consisting of a small group of parallel stripes, to properly convey. To communicate her biracial wood elf and air genasi heritage, she has auburn hair at the roots that fades out to sky blue, something easily done in game but tricky to communicate in art:

Challenging, but also fun :3

Lydia Laidir:

9. Are they based off of you, in some way?

Nope! The fun in playing Lydia, for me, is playing a character who is completely different from me, from her background to her reactions to her values. I relate to her a lot, but her character is not consciously based off of me.

10. If they have an LI, how much of their character is tailored to be compatible to that person? 

answered here <3

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)? 

 HER TATTOOS, oh my god they're so pretty in the game and they look so cool on her but oh my GOD do I hate drawing them. Most of the time I just do like, an approximation to get the idea across, but if it's for a really nice piece I'm doing for myself, I'm not above ripping the tattoo texture directly from the game with the Frosty Editor and laying it on her. Those kind of intricate little designs are not my strong suit 😅

Questions About Creating Your OCs

[thirdeye-ai]

Automatic Number Plate Recognition (ANPR) Smart Gate Solutions

[bmv1]

From Casinos to Crypto: How Las Vegas Became a Blockchain Innovation Hub

Las Vegas, long synonymous with its iconic casinos and vibrant entertainment, is now emerging as an unexpected hub for blockchain innovation. Inspired by the gaming industry’s need for security, transparency, and enhanced user experiences, the city is becoming a leader in fintech applications powered by blockchain. This transformation is driving the convergence of technology, finance, and entertainment, paving the way for the city’s tech-driven future. Fifteen years ago, in 2010, 10,000 Bitcoin was used to purchase two pizzas, a transaction that marked the first real-world use of the cryptocurrency. At the time, Bitcoin was practically worthless. Fast forward to today, and the value of Bitcoin has skyrocketed. Now, selling just 33 Bitcoin could buy you a��$3 million penthouse at the prestigious Four Seasons Private Residences in Las Vegas. This dramatic shift highlights not only Bitcoin’s meteoric rise but also redefining how wealth and assets are exchanged in a tech-driven world.

1. Blockchain Integration in Las Vegas

Resorts World Las Vegas

Resorts World Las Vegas is a prime example of how casinos are embracing blockchain technology and digital currencies.

Crypto Payments: The casino allows customers to use Bitcoin and Ethereum for hotel bookings, dining, and other services, partnering with Gemini, a regulated crypto exchange.

Cashless Gaming: Patrons can use mobile wallets instead of carrying physical cash. This not only enhances convenience but also increases transaction security, reducing risks of theft or fraud.

Wynn Las Vegas

Wynn Las Vegas has partnered with fintech firms to explore blockchain-based loyalty rewards programs. Customers can earn digital tokens tied to casino activities, which can be redeemed for hotel stays, entertainment, or dining experiences.

Case Study: Blockchain for Fair Play

A notable example of blockchain in casinos is FunFair Technologies, a platform that offers decentralized casino solutions using Ethereum smart contracts. While not exclusive to Las Vegas, FunFair’s model ensures provable fairness by publishing game outcomes on the blockchain, making it impossible for casinos to manipulate results.

Such innovations are being tested in Las Vegas-style gaming platforms globally, showing how blockchain can build trust between casinos and players.

Casinos in Las Vegas Accepting Bitcoin for Payments

Golden Gate Hotel & Casino 

Location: 1 Fremont Street, Las Vegas, NV 89101

Details: As the oldest casino in Las Vegas, Golden Gate accepts Bitcoin for hotel bookings, dining, and gift shop purchases.

Note: Bitcoin is not accepted for gambling activities but can be converted to U.S. dollars for gaming. 

The D Las Vegas Hotel & Casino 

Location: 301 Fremont Street, Las Vegas, NV 89101

Details: The D Las Vegas allows Bitcoin payments for hotel rooms, dining, and merchandise at its gift shop.

Note: Bitcoin cannot be used directly for gambling but works for other non-gaming services. 

Resorts World Las Vegas 

Location: 3000 Las Vegas Blvd S, Las Vegas, NV 89109

Details: Resorts World has partnered with Gemini, a cryptocurrency platform, to accept Bitcoin for hotel stays, dining, and select retail purchases.

Innovation: The resort also offers cashless gaming solutions, making it one of the most tech-forward destinations on the Strip.

2. Fintech Innovations Inspired by Gaming

The gaming industry’s push for seamless, secure, and engaging user experiences has inspired broader fintech applications.

Cashless Gaming Solutions

Casinos like The Venetian and MGM Grand have integrated cashless payment systems. Platforms such as Sightline Payments provide mobile wallets for gaming, dining, and retail, eliminating the need for physical cash.

These systems use fintech innovations like real-time payment settlement and biometric security for user verification, enhancing both speed and safety.

Gamification in Fintech

Gamification—using game-like elements in financial services—draws heavily from the gaming industry’s playbook.

Example: Robinhood: The stock trading app uses gamified features such as streaks, confetti animations, and rewards to engage users.

Las Vegas Influence: Gaming incentives and loyalty programs serve as inspiration for fintech apps offering rewards for saving, spending, or investing responsibly.

Case Study: The Link Between Casinos and Fintech Apps

Las Vegas casinos often deploy advanced AI-powered analytics to predict player behavior and optimize incentives. This same data-driven approach is now being used in fintech apps like Acorns and Stash, which offer personalized financial advice and savings plans based on user habits.

3. Las Vegas-Based Blockchain Gaming Companies

Infinite Games

Las Vegas-based Infinite Games is pioneering blockchain integration in mobile and online gaming:

NFT Ownership: Players can own in-game items as NFTs (non-fungible tokens), enabling trade and resale across different platforms.

Player Economy: By using blockchain, Infinite Games creates decentralized gaming economies where players can monetize their skills and assets.

PLAYSTUDIOS

PLAYSTUDIOS, famous for its loyalty-based mobile games, is exploring blockchain to make rewards more transparent and tradable:

Blockchain allows digital tokens to replace traditional rewards points. Players can transfer, sell, or redeem tokens in ways not previously possible.

Emerging Companies in the Sector

Startups like Decentral Games are pushing the boundaries by creating virtual casinos in the metaverse, powered by blockchain and cryptocurrencies.

Players can visit virtual versions of Las Vegas casinos, bet using digital assets, and enjoy provably fair gameplay.

4. Future Prospects for Blockchain in Las Vegas

Las Vegas’s integration of blockchain technology points toward a future that is both innovative and economically diverse.

Enhanced Security and Transparency

Blockchain creates an immutable ledger for transactions, making gaming and financial processes tamper-proof and transparent.

For example, blockchain is being explored to log all bets, winnings, and payouts, ensuring trust between players and casinos.

Blockchain for Tourism and Hospitality

The Las Vegas tourism industry can leverage blockchain for smart contracts in hotel bookings, event tickets, and tours.

For instance, a blockchain-based booking platform could eliminate intermediaries like OTAs (Online Travel Agencies), offering tourists lower costs and direct transparency.

Economic Diversification

By embracing blockchain technology, Las Vegas is diversifying its economy beyond casinos and entertainment:

Tech Startups: The city’s business-friendly policies are attracting fintech and blockchain startups.

Investors and Talent: Las Vegas is becoming a hub for blockchain conferences like Money 20/20, drawing global investors and tech talent.

Conclusion

Las Vegas’s journey from a global gaming capital to a blockchain innovation hub is a testament to its ability to adapt and evolve. By integrating blockchain into its casino operations, the city is setting new standards for transparency, security, and user engagement in gaming and fintech. From cashless gaming solutions to decentralized casinos, Las Vegas serves as both a case study and a blueprint for other cities looking to harness the power of blockchain.

Platforms like RealOpen are now facilitating real estate purchases using Bitcoin, Ethereum, and other cryptocurrencies. These platforms convert crypto to cash en route to escrow, allowing buyers to purchase any property, even if the seller isn’t crypto-friendly. For example, crypto enthusiasts can test these innovations by using Bitcoin to purchase luxury properties, including a Trump Las Vegas condos for sale. This seamless process allows digital asset holders to invest directly into the Las Vegas real estate market, turning crypto wealth into tangible luxury assets.

As fintech innovations inspired by the gaming industry continue to grow, Las Vegas is uniquely positioned to lead this revolution—solidifying its status not just as the Entertainment Capital of the World, but also as a Tech and Blockchain Capital for the Future.

[ananke-xiii]

My ranking of SPN seasons (based only on their PLOT) pt. 4 [final]

OKAAAAAY, LEEEEET'S GO!

Here, here and here I've covered from ranking #15 to #4 so let's see which seasons will be on the podium!

3. Season 8: This season really gave me life, it's absolutely one of the best. Plot-wise, I ADORED the introduction of the tablets and the Trials, whoever came up with this idea was pure genius. So Basically our heroes have to deal with the aftermath of the events in season 7: Dean has spent 1 year fighting monsters in Purgatory while Sam run away from his responsibilities and has found shelter in the arms of a woman. Cas seems nowhere to be found. The character who moves the plot forward is my beloved Crowley: while Dean was feeling pure in Purgatory with this vampire boyfriend (ihih), and Sam was guitl-trapped into adopting a dog (seriuosly? biggest red flag ever), our King of Hell was busy carrying the show on his shoulders. He kidnaps Kevin and orders him to translate the demon tablet. Since he's not stupid, he quickly understands that 1 leviathan table + 1 demon tablet = 1 angel tablet. Consequently, his quest for the latter begins. After 1 year of hedonism, our heroes realize that they had left poor Kevin behind while an astonished Castiel comes out of nowhere. The plot gets interesting. We find out that the demon tablet contains information on how to close the Gates of Hell. Comedy of error ensues since literally everybody thinks that the angle tablet would contain the same info as the demon tablet (really, guys? The ONLY smart person in the room about this was DEAN, as per usual). So what's written on the angel tablet? Surprise! We don't really know 'cause poor Kevin spent 6 effing months trying to translate half of the demon tablet so there's now way to know now! Cas makes the usual stupid choice and gets played by Metatron: he will undergo the Three Trials to close the Gates of Heaven. Meanwhile poor Sam undergoes the Trials to close the Gates of Hell. Eventually, Dean convinces him to stop the last trial otherwise he will die and poor Dean cannot live without his baby brother (same goes for little jealous Sam who, while literally dying, finds time to tell Dean that he feels left behind because Dean seems to love his Purgatory vampire and his trenchoated angel more than him (codependecy level: atomic)). Metatron fools everyone and cast a spell to make all angels fall. BOOM, season finale is EPIC. I really really enjoyed this season, it was so rich and full of turns of events but everything was coherent and engaging. What I didn't like is brainwashing Cas via Naomi. Plot-wise, it was unnecessary since Naomi literally reveals her original plan to Dean after episode 17 so, what was the point? Sure it gave us the memorable crypt scene and for it I am forever grateful. But in terms of plot, meh. It was weak. Also, it looks a lot like what happened with Godstiel in season 6 AND weird Cas in season 7 (poor Cas knows no peace of mind, literally).Once again Cas as a character is not fully in control and makes shitty decisions for reasons unknown? Mmmmh, me not likey.

2. Season 4: This season was explosive, I fucking loved it! First of all, as I've already said, I like when there's sort of a deadline in the plot and here we have a big one: Lilith is on her course to open the 66 seals that will free Lucifer from his cage. Problem is: nobody knows which ones she will choose since there are like 600 of them. Sam and Dean try to prevent the opening of the seals but things get complicated when the Angels enter the arena: they certainly look more like enemies rather than allies and for sure cause a lot of problems more than provide solutions. Previosly on Supernatural, Dean was rescued by Castiel from Hell (what an epic entrance, Cas!!!) after having spent 30 human years torturing and being tortured by demons, yay! Sam is now addicted to demon blood and nobody is pleased about it so our heroes have plenty on their plate. Plot-wise, this season was everything, it was a rollercoaster of turns of events, allies that become enemies, enemies become allies but wait no! they've been enemies all along! Castiel inadvertently changes the course of the story and creates real free will, Supernatural goes fully meta with the introduction of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley, angels are showed as scary, powerful creatures rather than comforting, merciful, ethereal beings ("Read the bible" LOL)... Man, what a fucking epic season! It felt serious but also carefree? It seems weird to say that but later on SPN gets increasingly tragic in tone so I'm very pleased with season 4 because it managed to balance everything out but with a lighter twist.

Season 11: while I was writing this, I was not sure which season would be number 1 but here I am, once again, in love with the plot of season 11. What can I say? "I'm a lover, not a fighter". So, the plot: the Winchester Bros Codependency Inc. has reached catastrophic levels: they are the ones to be thanked for the release of The Darkness into the world. The first interesting thing is that, for the first time ever, nobody really seems to know what to do. Thank God, there's the King of Hell (LOL) who promptly seizes the opportunity to take Amara and raise her hoping this would turn the events in his favours. However, he's unable to control her and soon Amara escapes wreacking havoc in the world. Not knowing what to do, Castiel decides to find Metatron, while Sam decides to go back into the Cage because he believes that Lucifer might be key to fighting Amara. Chaos ensues. Metatron doesn't really know shit, Lucifer same but he manages to escape via Castiel!vessel and we get Casifer (it was insane, I loved every minute of it!), the world is in shambles. A deus ex machina is needed: God/Chuck enters the chat. From here on, it all gets very philosophical and maybe that's why I frigging love this season. So, remember the Winchester Bros Codependency Inc.? Well, turns out Amara and God suffers from the same syndrome. They manage to (momentarily) find their balance while Dean (who had a bond with Amara because they both shared the Mark of Cain or whatever) decides to go to battle alone to convince Amara to stop or, if not possible, to die trying to save the world. And Sam Winchester is finally okay with this! Wow, progress, yes, right??? All ends so well that Amara gifts Dean with his friggin' mother who was dead 30+ years ago! Happy ending, much? LOL. I liked the simplicity of the plot, it's all very progressive, the pacing is slow but never boring, all characters still continue to make stupid choices but ultimately these don't bite them in the ass and they use them to grow... I don't know, I really enjoyed season 11. The only "negative" thing is that I wish the writers made Dean tell Cas something more meaningful than "you're our brother". Tons of metas have been written about it and yeah, I know, I know. Still, this season was all about "following the heart" so I'd have appreciated more honesty about this topic but hey, we all know how it ended so #nosurprise.

Okay, I'm done here! What do YOU think? Do you agree with my ranking? I'm curious, let me know!