#direct source solutions

[simplifyworkforce]

Why VMS Systems Are Vital for Managing the Contingent Workforce and Scaling Direct Sourcing Recruitment

In today’s fast-moving talent market, companies are increasingly relying on contingent workers—freelancers, contractors, consultants, and gig professionals—to meet project-based demands and fill critical skill gaps. Managing this flexible workforce requires more than spreadsheets and email chains. That’s where a Vendor Management System (VMS) comes into play.

A VMS system is a centralized platform that streamlines the way organizations manage their contingent workforce, engage staffing vendors, and ensure compliance. It plays a crucial role in driving efficiency, reducing costs, and enabling smarter hiring decisions—especially when paired with direct sourcing recruitment strategies.

What Is a VMS System?

A VMS system is software designed to manage every step of the external workforce lifecycle, from vendor onboarding and job requisitions to time tracking, invoicing, and performance evaluation. It provides a transparent view of your entire contingent workforce operation—whether you’re working with multiple vendors or directly sourcing your talent.

A good VMS system offers:

Centralized vendor and worker database

Real-time performance analytics

Automated workflows for approvals and invoicing

Integrated compliance and audit tracking

Role-based access for procurement, HR, and hiring managers

This kind of visibility is crucial in industries like IT, healthcare, manufacturing, and logistics where contingent labor forms a large part of the workforce.

Managing the VMS Contingent Workforce

The VMS contingent workforce refers to all temporary or non-payroll workers who are managed through a Vendor Management System. By consolidating all vendor and talent data into one dashboard, companies can quickly track labor costs, monitor compliance, and make strategic sourcing decisions.

Benefits include:

Improved visibility: Know who’s working, where, and at what cost.

Compliance assurance: Ensure vendors and workers meet legal and policy requirements.

Cost control: Avoid overbilling and negotiate better vendor terms.

Faster onboarding: Automate paperwork and approval flows.

A VMS system acts as a bridge between procurement, HR, and staffing vendors—making sure everyone is aligned and accountable.

Powering Direct Sourcing Recruitment with a VMS

Direct sourcing recruitment is the practice of leveraging your company’s brand and internal tools to source and engage contingent talent—without third-party staffing agencies. This model reduces cost per hire and gives you more control over candidate quality.

When integrated with a VMS system, direct sourcing becomes even more powerful. You can:

Build and maintain a private talent pool

Automatically match requisitions with pre-vetted candidates

Track direct sourcing performance alongside vendor-sourced hires

Easily switch between sourcing channels based on cost and availability

In essence, your VMS system becomes the control center for both vendor-led and direct sourcing recruitment.

Why This Matters Now

As businesses face uncertain markets and evolving workforce models, agility is key. Companies need scalable solutions to manage hybrid workforces that include full-time employees, freelancers, and everything in between.

Investing in a VMS system enables you to:

Scale contingent hiring without administrative chaos

Increase transparency and reduce compliance risks

Leverage direct sourcing to cut costs and improve hiring speed

Final Thoughts

Managing a modern workforce requires modern tools. A VMS contingent workforce strategy supported by a reliable VMS system and empowered by direct sourcing recruitment can give your organization the edge in today’s competitive hiring landscape.

Whether you're managing thousands of contractors or just starting to explore direct sourcing, the right VMS software can streamline operations, save time, and boost ROI.

[importantandunavoidable]

I am a layperson, not an archaeologist or architect. BUT. I don't think this is unique to Inca/Pre-Columbian construction. People have been building similar walls all over the world since before they had access to maize:

"It took me years to realize that Inca and pre-Columbian architecture is directly related to the structure of the corn kernels. In a western model of thought, one might judge the shapes as irregular, but in a universal thought, everything is a correlation between the cosmos, science, art, and humanity (...) The organic growth forms are represented in a logarithmic way, and these pentagonal, hexagonal, and heptagonal blocks coincide with the corn forms. The lack of symmetry in the walls helps dissipate the energy of the earthquakes. They were incredible engineers. Japanese researchers studied Machu Picchu after the Kobe earthquake and realized that these Inca structures had not been damaged by it. " - Juan Casco

[nightingale-prompts]

Health Code Violation- DC x DP prompt

"Hold on there. You're not permitted beyond this point." The floating teenage boy said as he tucked his clipboard under his arm.

After a battle with another world-ending villain Superman was killed in action and after a short debate the decision to revive him using the Lazarus Pit was made. However, the league members who were carrying his body to the pit didn't expect it to be blocked off with caution tape. A teenage boy with stark white hair and wearing a hard hat and orange construction vest.

"What are you doing out here kid? And what is with the tape?" Barry asked shifting Clark's heavy ass body from crushing him.

"I'm here to take a look at the leak." He said pointing a thumb in the direction of the green pit.

"The leak?" Diana echoed in confusion.

"Yeah, your planet has a leak. A few actually. Our realm hasn't been managed well and now that the old king is gone we need to fix some things. Right now the leaks need to be sealed." He said. "Also what's with the dead guy?"

"We were bringing him to the Lazarus Pit to revive him." Barry said blankly.

The teen shook his head in astonishment almost dropping his clipboard.

"You are what?! With the what?!"

"The Lazarus pit...?" Hal laughed nervously his face in a half-quirked smile.

"You call it a Lazarus Pit? Guys this is a pool of contaminated ectoplasm. Basically sewage. This thing is full of dead people juice. All those leftover emotions and obsessions are stewing in there. You toss that body in these pool and you'll make a revenant full of anger. It doesn't even have an ecosystem to cleanse it. It's like stagnant water." The teen said waving his pen around before pausing "Wait a minute....you people have been using it? No wonder it's so polluted! What is wrong with you?! Are you trying to contaminate your planet? Do you want zombies?"

It was kind of weird to be scolded by a kid, for everyone but Bruce. He thought of a more pragmatic approach. He didn't like the pit but he acknowledged it's usefulness.

"I understand. But we do want to save our friend and the only way is to use the pit."

"That's a big ask. The pit is one thing but bringing back the dead willy nilly? ...But I guess that's my domain now.. "

The teen mumbled to himself before sighing.

"Look, I want to help. I really do. But the pit is unstable and there are many more on this planet with the same issue. We can't risk an apocalypse and the chance they get into the wrong hands. This is for the safety of your planet." The teen said as mannerly as possible as he dismissed the heros.

"Come on, please. Our friend is dead. You don't want our friend to die." Barry said pleadingly.

"Very mature of you. A bit of shame might help you...alright fine but don't badger me again." The silver-haired being said taking out a small syringe and taking a sample of his own blood.

"It's diluted compared to the pure stuff but 10x stronger than the stuff in the pool. It's safer and once he's kicking again it'll drain out of his system." He tossed the needle to Barry and returned to taking samples of the pit. "This biohazard requires an ecologist. I'll have to import some blob feeders to clean up the toxins. Then either seal this up or link it to the network. But these dumb mortals are just going to keep dumping bodies into it."

The teen mumbled to himself as he tried to find a solution.

A week later all the Lazarus pits had disappeared. The Al Ghuls were scrambling as the source of their powers dried up.

Clark was alive and feeling better than ever. No pit rage at all.

Eventually the boy returned.

"I had a talk with the ancients and they agreed to let you have one ecto pool. Only one thought and it has to be managed by me. As long as you don't try abusing it by going into it while alive or not asking permission I'll allow you to use it. Also, be mindful of my cleaning wisps, they work very hard to keep the natural flow of the ecto cycle going." The teen said holding up a green little ghost blob and petting it.

[snail-day]

TW: Yandere Hybrids, Somnophilia, Dubcon, Oral fixation, Overstimulation, Gagging, Crying during sex, Power dynamics, Humiliation, Knotting mentions, Manipulation WC: Under 1k

A/n: have I yapped about this? Probably. Mmmm well here's more yapping about Satoru's suckling problem.

Imagine bringing home a puppy hybrid. They're sweet, loud, impossibly affectionate. They make great additions to the family! Now you got a real pretty kind with snowy white ears that twitch when he’s happy, a big fluffy white tail that wags wildly whenever you walk through the door before his arms snake around your waist, and the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

Satoru. Sure he's sweet. Clingy. Always wants to be touching you, whether it’s his head in your lap, tail thumping against you, or palms nudging under your shirt just to feel skin.

You got a great deal! You weren't even sure why the agency was offering him so cheap! They did warn you about a little problem, sourced from anxiety. Suckling. Though they assured you its common with puppy hybrids.

It starts small. Barely even noticeable. Just the blankets at first. Then your socks. Then your clean laundry, pulled warm from the dryer only to find damp chew spots on the crotch of your panties. You figure it’s probably the anxiety. Poor thing’s home all day, curled up alone, waiting for his human to come back. He probably misses your scent. Probably needs comfort.

But comfort becomes a little more complicated when you wake in the middle of the night to wet heat lapping at your chest. When you find him latched onto your soft nipple like a pacifier, soft pitchy whines in the back of his throat as his hips rock gently against your leg, grinding himself through his boxers, a wet spot forming in the front.

You try to be good. Attempting to gently peel him off. Drowsily hushing his protests. But your body betrays you. Slurps echo embarrassingly loud when the flat of his tongue flicks over the sensitive bud. You’re sure you came in your sleep. More than once based on the slick between your thighs. Thankful he hasn't discovered that region, giving you time to correct his behavior before it gets worse. Your poor soft nipples are sore for days, and even the cream you bought doesn’t help.

And now nothing else soothes him. Not blankets, not toys, not even the shirts you leave behind that smell like you. He wants you. Wants your tits in his mouth, wants to be smothered by the soft mounds for the rest of his life.

So, what do you do?

You get him a friend. A dominat hybrid. Someone who can put him in his place.

Which is how fox hybrid!Suguru ends up in your home, quiet, slow-moving, sticks mostly to himself. Occasionally narrows his keen eyes at Satoru's antics. Though it didn't work out like you'd imagine.

He’s not the solution. He’s the problem.

Because he doesn’t correct Satoru’s behavior, he cultivates it. Encourages it.

“You’ve spoiled him,” Suguru murmurs one night, his firm chest pressed to your back, voice thick and deep against your ear. His arm is slung around your hips, strong, holding you open while whine into his long dark hair, attempting to hide yourself away.

“No - not my fault - ” you try, but your voice dies in a choked sob when a soft tongue flattens against your cunt again, suckling on your puffy clit like it’s candy.

Between your thighs, Satoru whines. Loud. Messy. His pretty blue eyes are hazy with need, pupils blown wide as his hands clutch your thighs, nails breaking skin and buries his face even deeper in your pussy. His ears are drooping low, flicking with every moan you make, and his cock is leaking all over your sheets as he humps the bed like a mindless mutt.

“See?” Suguru hums. “He likes direction.”

You’re overstimulated. Sore. Barely coherent. Your clit aches, your hole’s fluttering, and you don’t even realize you’re crying until Suguru kisses the tears from your cheeks, soothing you while his other hand grabs the panties you wore yesterday and shoves them between your teeth.

“There we go,” he croons, lips brushing over your cheek. “Let him taste you properly.”

You sob around the gag as Satoru moans, loud and high-pitched, grinding his tongue deeper like he’s trying to fuck you with it. Your hole aching at the desperate pushes. His nose nudges your clit with every thrust and his tail is wagging wildly behind him, thumping against the bed. You’re cumming. Again. Again. You don’t even know which number you’re on.

Suguru just watches. Eyes heavy-lidded and glowing in the moonlight. Something hard pressed against your back. His hand never leaves your belly, his claws gently stroking patterns over the soft skin.

“You’re lucky,” he murmurs against your ear, before shoving Satoru's face more into your cunt, a loud groan leaving the pup's lips. “your sweet puppy hasn’t learned how to knot yet.”

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (03)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.1k words (get ready for #reallove)

Aliyah's Notes: whats that one saying? rainbows before the storm or wtv tf.

You didn’t believe in hatred.

Dislike? Sure. Irritation? Absolutely. But hatred was for people with time to waste, and in your world, every second was precious. Even now, as you posed under the bright lights of your latest Chanel photoshoot, your mind wandered to the few people you disliked.

Rude stylists, overly critical photographs, maybe a couple of models who thought being catty made them superior—but hate? No, that wasn’t your style.

You were in the middle of changing poses when your phone loudly buzzed on the nearby table. You ignored it at first, moving your chin slightly as the photographer directed you. You could answer it later.

“Gorgeous, Y/N! Hold that pose… yeah, just like that!” the photographer called out, camera clicking away.

The phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. You shifted your weight to one side, flipping your hair for the next shot. But the third buzz was enough to make you sigh.

“Alright, take five!” the photographer announced, waving his assistant over.

You stepped down from the set and grabbed your phone, frowning when you saw Rafe Cameron on the screen. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swiped to answer.

“Finally answering my calls, sweetheart?” his voice came through, cocky and irritatingly smooth.

“Rafe, I’m working,” you replied, as you pulled your robe around yourself. “Not everyone gets paid to play with a ball.”

“Work, huh? I thought posing in front of a camera was more of a hobby.”

“You’re so funny,” you said flatly, glancing back at the crew who were resetting the lights. “What do you want?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m taking you out tonight.”

You snorted. “Excuse me? Did I miss the part where I agreed to go anywhere with you?”

“You didn’t,” he replied, completely unfazed. “That’s what I’m fixing right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it. “You don’t ‘fix’ things with me, Rafe. You ask, I decide.”

“Is that our dynamic?” Rafe’s tone dripped with amusement. “You sure? Because I remember you agreeing to marry me.”

“That’s business,” you shot back. “Don’t confuse it with me actually wanting to spend time with you.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, clearly not buying it. “Business or not, we’ve got a public to convince. Tonight, we’re making our debut as a couple. We wouldn’t want the media thinking you’re too good for me, would we?”

“I am too good for you,” you replied smoothly, your lips quirking up. “But go on.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Dinner at La Belle, 8 PM. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.”

You glanced at the time. Seriously? “Wait, how do you know where I live?”

“I have my sources. I’m a basketball player; I can afford to have a few eyes on my future wife.”

“Creep,” you mumbled, ignoring the flutter of annoyance in your stomach. “And what makes you think I’m free tonight?”

“Because you’re talking to me instead of saying no.”

“I haven’t said yes, either.”

“You will, though. I can hear it in your voice.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a smug edge in his tone. “But I’m also persistent.”

You exhaled through your nose, staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror as the makeup artist approached with a fresh brush. The look you gave yourself was somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Fine.”

There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk stretching across his lips. “See you tonight.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, leaving you scowling at the screen.

“Everything okay?” your stylist asked, glancing at your reflection with a raised brow. She has been listening in.

You plastered on a smile. “Yeah… Just…  a guy, you know.”

She snorted. “Sounds like he’s already giving you headaches.”

“Don’t even get me started.”

Your thoughts swirled as you prepared to finish the photoshoot. Rafe’s voice still rang in your eyes. Dinner at La Belle? You weren’t sure why he frustrated you so much—you weren’t like this. Being optimistic and smiley was your trademark, it was who you were, but whenever Rafe was mentioned or around he made you snappy and full of attitude… and you didn’t know why. 

Hours passed in a blur of flashing cameras and outfit changes, and soon enough, it was nearing 7:30. Maya, your stylist, was packing up the last of your things when she gave you a look. “You better get going if you’re gonna make that date.”

“You’re right,” you muttered, checking your phone for the first time in hours. “Oh my God! I have 30 minutes—I gotta go bye, Maya.”

“Bye, girl,” she laughed and waved. “I hope you get dicked—”

“Lalalalala,” you screamed and ran away.

You slipped into your black trench coat and hopped in the car. You texted Rafe.

You: “I might be late. I’m sorry.”

Rafe: “What happened?”

You: “Shooting went overtime.”

Rafe: “Okay.”

You: “You should’ve picked a later time.”

Rafe: “Just get here in one piece. I like my women alive.”

You rolled your eyes, like every time with him, but couldn’t help but smile at his sarcastic tone. You fished out your small makeup bag and quickly powdered your face, adding concealer, mascara, blush, eyeliner, and lipstick. Now, you were one step ahead—ready to slip into an outfit as soon as you got home.

The car pulled up to your apartment, and you rushed into your apartment, your heart raced. You threw open your closet, eyeing the racks of beautiful dresses, each one tempting. 

You finally chose an elegant, sleek black dress that hugged your curves flawlessly, the smooth fabric flowing over your body with a low, scooped neckline. The rich black material shimmered under the light, emphasizing your figure with every movement. In a rush, you worked mousse through your hair, then applied a smoky eye that intensified your gaze, blending shades of charcoal and bronze. The look was bold, and perfectly matched the confidence you were determined to exude tonight.

Your phone buzzed.

Rafe: “You taking too long. I’m coming up.”

A series of sharp knocks echoed through your apartment, almost making you drop your phone. You whipped your head towards the door, quickly adjusting the strap of your dress as you glanced at the clock. 8:20—fuck!

“Give me a minute!” you shouted, frantically slipping on your heels. Your heart raced as you grabbed your earrings, juggling them in your hand while heading towards the door.

When you swung it open, Rafe stood on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing that smirk that could only belong to him. His eyes immediately swept over your figure, starting at your legs, up to your waist, your exposed breasts, and finally your face. His gaze lingered, and though he didn’t say anything, the heat in his stare would’ve given you chills down your spine.

You didn’t notice. You were too busy hesitating on what to do with your hair.

“I am not ready yet,” you groaned, stepping aside to let him in. “I got home late, and I haven’t even had time to—ugh. I knew shooting was taking some time but I didn’t think it’d be this much. I’m sorry for making you wait. I swear I’m not usually like this—I hate being late.” You didn’t pause for a breath, just rambled on as you tossed the earrings on the coffee table and made a beeline for your room.

Rafe closed the door behind him, but his attention was fixed on you. He watched as you moved, the dress hugging your ass perfectly, accentuating your hurried movements. The sight of you—flustered, elegant, and completely unaware of his gaze—only deepened the smirk on his face.

“Nice place,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His gaze followed you down the hallway, where your bedroom was slightly ajar.

Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped through the threshold and followed you inside, finding you in your room—which was the perfect picture of chaos. Clothes were draped over the bed, shoes tossed in random covers, and a vanity table cluttered with makeup. It was the kind of organized mess that only you could make sense of.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching as you rifled through your vanity drawer for something. His eyes swept over the pastel-colored blankets and the flowery décor, stark contrasts to the girl who had been all sass and attitude with him up until now.

But he liked that. It turned him on, for some reason.

“I didn’t take you for the ‘pink floral everything’ type,” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You shot him a glance through the mirror, briefly pausing from rummaging through your drawer. “And I didn’t take you for the ‘nosy guest who barges into rooms uninvited’ type,” you quipped, raising an eyebrow back at him. Your fingers grazed over a tube of lipstick, which you quickly uncapped and re-applied.

Rafe’s smirk only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man full of surprises.”

“Yeah, well, try surprising me by sitting quietly on my bed like a normal person,” you shot back, giving your lips one final press together before throwing the lipstick into the pile of clutter on your vanity.

Rafe made a show of glancing around your room. “I think ‘normal’ left the building when I saw this,” he said, gesturing to the soft pink pillows and floral patterns that clashed with the image you projected. “Didn’t peg you for the type to have a room that looks like a rom-com set.”

You turned, finally facing him fully, one hand on your hip. “Oh, look, a creep overanalyzing a girl’s bedroom.”

Rafe chuckled. “Just making an observation. It’s cute. A little... princessy for someone who tries to pretend she’s all tough, but hey, I can roll with it.”

You tried to fight the smile threatening to creep up. “First of all, I am tough. Secondly, I like pink, sue me.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said with a wink, his voice dropping a little lower. “You look good in pink.”

You scoffed and turned back to the mirror, fiddling with your dress. “You’re insane.”

Rafe just grinned, watching you trying so hard to look occupied, clearly flustered. “Probably, but I think you like that,” he said, his tone teasing. He stepped closer, now standing right behind you. His presence was warm, and his gaze never left your reflection.

You met his eyes in the mirror, your hands faltering with your hair as his intense gaze locked onto yours. The air between you thickened just a little, but you weren’t about to give in to his charm. “I don’t like anything that involves you, Cameron,” you said, but the words lacked the bite you intended.

He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “I don’t believe you.”

The heat of his breath on your neck made your skin tingle, and for a brief second, you forgot what you were supposed to be doing. But then you snapped out of it, stepping away to grab your perfume from the vanity. “Well, believe this: we’re leaving in five minutes, and I still need to finish getting ready,” you said, your voice firm, though your cheeks betrayed you with a faint flush.

Rafe raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you finish...”

As you spritzed the perfume, you caught him eyeing you again, his gaze lingering on your tits. You couldn’t help but shake your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Eyes up here, Rafe.”

He shrugged, shameless as ever. “Can’t blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He paused for a beat, then added, “Besides, in five minutes, you’ll be mine for the night.”

You threw him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Creepy... This is just for show, remember?”

Rafe nodded, and as you finally slipped on your coat, he followed you toward the door, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, there was no hiding the smile. “Yup! Ready, Cameron.”

Rafe’s hand wrapped around your wrist just as you reached for the door, his touch firm but gentle enough to send a flicker of electricity up your arm. You turned, brow furrowed.

“What now?” you sighed, trying to sound annoyed.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “You know what? I think we should practice.”

You blinked, trying to read his expression. “Practice?”

His gaze dipped to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Yeah, practice… For when we’re in public,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, almost daring you to look away. “When we’re kissing… we wouldn’t want our kisses to look unconvincing, mmh?”

A laugh bubbled out of you, partly from surprise and partly to keep yourself from being completely thrown off by the heat in his stare. “You’re kidding.”

He raised an eyebrow, inching closer, the space between you shrinking until the scent of his cologne mixed with the tension already thick in the air. “Am I?” His voice was smooth, dripping with amusement, but beneath it, there was something else. Something far more dangerous.

Your breath hitched as you took a step back, your body colliding with the door. “You’re serious...”

Rafe’s smirk widened, but this time it was laced with something primal. “Yeah,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips were just a whisper away from yours. “You look so fucking good tonight, sweetheart.”

Your pulse raced, and for a split second, you considered pushing him away, but your body betrayed you. You stayed there, frozen in the moment, trapped by the intensity in his gaze, the closeness of his body.

Before you could even form a reply, he closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t the playful, teasing peck you were expecting—it was deep, his hand sliding to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was full of fire and heat, a simmering tension that had been building between the two of you since the moment you met.

Your mind went blank, the world outside disappearing as your lips moved against his, as though you had been kissing him forever. His fingers tightened on your waist, and a low moan escaped from the back of your throat, sending a wave of warmth through your entire body.

When you finally broke apart, your chest was heaving, and you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours. You stared at him, wide-eyed, struggling to catch your breath. Rafe’s blue eyes were dark, his smile gone, replaced by a hungry look that made your stomach twist in knots.

“That was...” you trailed off, trying to find the right word. But nothing seemed to fit.

Rafe’s thumb brushed over your lower lip, wiping away some of your smeared lipstick. “For practice,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “You know… just in case.”

Your heart pounded in your ears, but your brain finally caught up. “Uh-huh,” you mumbled, still feeling the warmth of his thumb on your lip. “Just practice.”

You tried to step away, but his hand was still on your waist, holding you there, his thumb brushing the delicate skin of your hip as if testing the boundaries between you.

“You, uh…” Your voice wavered, and you blinked, trying to find something—anything—to cut through the tension. “You’ve also got lipstick all over you.”

Rafe’s lips twitched into a grin, though his eyes remained locked on yours, full of heat. “I do?”

You nodded, taking a breath to calm your racing pulse. “Here, let me…” Without thinking, you reached up and brushed your thumb across his lips, wiping away the smear of color.

It should’ve been innocent. It should’ve been nothing.

But the moment your thumb touched his lips, Rafe’s eyes darkened even more. He caught your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly, his gaze never leaving yours. The warmth of his skin seeped into you, and the atmosphere between you both thickened, the tension pulling tighter.

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were, how your bodies seemed to gravitate towards each other without you even realizing it. The way he was looking at you—like he wanted to devour you—it made you feel dizzy.

His voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke. “You’re killing me here.”

Your breath hitched at the huskiness in his tone, your stomach twisting with nerves and something else entirely. You tried to laugh it off, to shake the moment. “It’s just lipstick, Rafe.”

His thumb brushed over your pulse, the simplest touch sending sparks down your spine. “It’s not the lipstick,” he murmured, his eyes flicking back to your lips.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperate to break the tension before you did something you’d regret. “You’re all cleaned up now, Romeo. We should go,” you said, your voice shaky but determined.

Rafe’s hand lingered a moment longer on your wrist, his gaze searching yours, as if considering whether or not to push further. But then he dropped your hand, stepping back with a slow, devilish grin. “Yeah,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “We should.”

You turned toward the door, your heart still racing as you tried to pull yourself together. But even as you reached for the handle, you felt his presence right behind you, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck, sending a shiver through your body.

“I like the dress, by the way,” his tone lighter now but still tinged with the lingering tension.

You glanced back at him. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes glinting as he opened the door for you. You stepped out into the hallway, your head still spinning from the kiss, from the way he looked at you, from everything. 

He followed closely behind, his presence lingering in the space around like shadows. The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and you stepped inside.

“That’s a nice place you’ve got, by the way,” he remarked, his tone casual.

You glanced at him sideways, unwilling to give him more than a passing look. “Thanks, but I’m sure you say that to all the girls you visit uninvited.”

He smiled. “Only the ones I’m marrying.”

“Look at me swooning,” you rolled your eyes as the elevator began its descent, the silence between you settling into something almost comfortable.

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped out quickly, determined to put some space between you and him. But even as you reached the front entrance of your building, Rafe was right behind you, his hand lightly brushing against your back as he guided you toward the black car waiting at the curb.

“Such a gentleman,” you whispered sarcastically.

“I try,” he shot back, opening the car door for you. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he added, “Besides, it’s part of my job as your husband to be a gentleman towards you, right?”

You slid into the car, crossing your legs as you settled into the plush leather seat. “We’re not married yet, you do know that, right?”

“But we will be, so what’s the difference?” he said, slipping into the seat next to you. His arm stretched out along the back of the seat, brushing against your shoulder.

“Well, there’s a big difference actually…” you whispered more to yourself, smoothing down your dress as you glanced out the window, trying to ignore the way his proximity made your pulse quicken.

As the car pulled away from the curb, silence filled the space between you. You weren’t sure if it was the lingering effects of the kiss or the fact that Rafe was sitting so close, but the air felt heavy, charged with something unspoken.

“So, we’re going to La Belle, huh?” you asked, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah, you ever been there before?”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “The five-star restaurant in New York City where all the celebs go to get photographed? Of course, I’ve been there.”

Rafe grinned. “Perfect spot for our big debut, don’t you think?”

“You did your big one, bravo!” you nodded with a smile.

The car pulled to a stop outside of the restaurant, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of the flashing lights. Paparazzi filled the sidewalk, their cameras already trained on the car. You took a steadying breath, feeling Rafe’s eyes on you.

“Ready?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and something else—concern, maybe.

You let a truthful smile spread across your lips as you met his gaze. “Fuck yeah!”

He laughed, and for a moment, you felt his hand tighten around yours, a subtle gesture of reassurance. The car door opened, and before you could second-guess anything, you felt yourself being gently tugged out into the swirl of flashing cameras, Rafe’s hand warm and steady around yours.

“Rafe! Y/N! Over here!”

“Look this way!”

“Is she your new girlfriend?”

Questions flew around, shouted from all the angles as you made your way toward the entrance. You kept your chin up, smile fixed, the years of modeling training kicking in to keep your expression calm and collected. Meanwhile, Rafe had his arm draped around your waist, his casual confidence almost comforting.

Inside the restaurant, the lighting was dim, intimate—a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The maître led you to a private table in the back corner, and as you slid into your seat, the reality of the situation settled back in.

“I felt like I almost died out there,” you said with a laugh as you glanced at the menu.

“I thought that was fun,” he said, picking up his own menu. “them thinking you’re my girlfriend when you’re about to become my wi—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, a familiar broke through his voice. “Oh, what a surprise, Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see none other than Alina Ivanov, her polished smile almost too bright as she approached your table. Dressed in a sleek, form-fitting red dress and with her hair swept back in a low chignon, she looked like she belonged here. And, as always, her appearance felt like a subtle reminder of the rivalry she’d always tried to stir between you.

“Alina,” you said, keeping your voice polite but cool. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Rafe’s gaze flickered between you two, sensing the tension immediately. “Friend of yours?”

Alina flashed him a charming smile before turning back to you, her expression a picture of innocence. “We’re worked together a few times,” she said, not missing a beat. “I was just so surprised to see you here. It’s not every day you bring a date to places like this… or just bring dates, period.”

You kept your smile polite, though your jaw was tight. “Unlike you, am I right?”

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment too long before shifting back to Rafe. “And who might you be?”

“Rafe Cameron,” he said, his tone smooth but his gaze sharp.

“I was joking. I know who you are, silly,” Alina said, chuckling softly. “My brothers are huge fans of yours. Always telling me how you’re the one to watch on the court.”

He offered a polite nod. “Glad to hear it.”

There was a beat of silence before Alina leaned in, her eyes glinting as she looked back at you. “So, Y/N, how’s everything going with… your work?” Her tone was light, casual, but the question felt like a dig.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Busy as ever.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” she replied, her smile widening. “Things have been so competitive lately. But I’m sure you’re managing.” She tilted her head, her expression turning almost pitying. “Just let me know if you need any tips on balancing everything. We know what happened the last time that you were too stressed.”

For the first time in a long while, she left you speechless. Words hung on your lips, but nothing came out. A slight tremor shook your body as memories flooded back. Alina mentioning that moment…it was like a punch to the gut. You’d convinced yourself everyone had forgotten, buried it in the past. But of course, she hadn’t. How could she? It was the most humiliating, traumatizing experience of your career.

Rafe noticed the shift immediately. He always looked forward to your sharp retorts, the way you never missed a beat with your quick-witted comebacks. But now? He saw something different—a rawness, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen in you before. His chest tightened, a protective instinct flaring up, urging him to shield you from the wound Alina had reopened. He didn’t know what she meant, didn’t need to know. Your face told him everything.

Before Alina could twist the knife any deeper, Rafe stepped in, his voice low but steady, the edge unmistakable.

"Seems like she’s been doing just fine on her own," he cut in, his gaze hardening. "Haven't you seen her work lately?"

His tone was firm, no hint of the usual lightness. He didn’t look at you—he didn’t need to—but you could feel the solidarity in his words, a silent reassurance that said, I’ve got you.

Alina’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, brushing off his words with a delicate laugh. “Yeah, of course! I mean, I’d be hard-pressed to miss it with her face practically everywhere.” She turned to you, her gaze sharpening just a fraction. “Lucky for you, the timing’s been in your favor, huh?”

You clenched your teeth, trying to stop the trembles in your body. “Luck had nothing to do with it.”

Her smile stretched a little too wide as she inclined her head. “Oh, I totally get it, babe. Well, enjoy your night, you two.” She cast a lingering, almost possessive look at Rafe, her gaze dragging over him as though he were something she intended to claim. “And, Rafe, it was lovely meeting you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.”

Without missing a beat, Rafe’s gaze stayed anchored on you as he replied, “Doubt it.”

Alina’s expression faltered, again, before she flashed a final smile and melted back into the crowd, her perfume leaving a sickly-sweet trace in her wake. The silence that followed felt dense, almost stifling, and you could still feel the sting of her words hanging in the air like smoke. You exhaled, trying to let go of the tension that had coiled in your shoulders.

Rafe’s gaze shifted, catching yours with an intensity that softened as he studied your face. “She’s... really friendly, isn’t she?” he said with a dry chuckle.

You let out a scoff, unable to resist. “That’s one way to put it.”

Rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting. “She always this nice?”

“Only when there’s an audience.”

Rafe’s expression shifted, his humor fading into something more thoughtful. He leaned forward, just close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne, and his eyes softened as they searched yours. “If she ever gives you trouble, you let me know. I’ve got no problem shutting her up.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected note of protectiveness in his voice. The way he looked at you was something new, something unfamiliar—and it stirred something you hadn’t anticipated. “Thanks, Cameron, but I can handle the Russian princess.”

“I know you can,” he replied, his voice low, every word rich with unspoken promise. “But you’ve got a husband now to help you with these… things”

His words hung in the air, sparking a warmth in your chest that surprised you. This side of him—serious, protective, and entirely focused on you—was so different from the cocky charm he usually wore like armor. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the quiet charge humming between your gazes.

A server approached, breaking the lingering silence as they took your orders. Once they left, quiet settled between you and Rafe again, pressing down as the sounds of clinking silverware and murmured conversations filled the space around you. For a moment, you let yourself tune into the chatter of the other tables, realizing how strange it was to be here with someone you hardly knew. Sure, you knew what the media had to say about Rafe Cameron—most people did. 

You thought back to what you actually knew about him. He was 25, a talented star on an NBA team, with a cocky smile. The media painted him as the consummate playboy, a regular at exclusive clubs, and someone who, judging by the number of girls he was photographed kissing, had perfected the art of fleeting connections. And yes, the tabloids had mentioned his dreamy abs.

It was a curious thought: this man across from you was, somehow, your future husband. Yet, aside from the stories, the rumors, and those dark blue eyes that sparked whenever he looked your way, what else did you know about him? You felt a pang of embarrassment.

Maybe it was because of the arrangement, maybe it was the fleeting glances across magazine covers and sports sites, but all you truly knew about Rafe Cameron could barely fill a sentence.

Finally, you couldn’t help it, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as you studied him. He looked too comfortable, too at ease, like he belonged here. He was the perfect enigma: superstar athlete and notorious heartbreaker, with eyes that seemed to hold every secret and none at all.

“So, um, Rafe, what do you know about me?”

He stilled, his easygoing expression faltering for a second. You’d caught him off guard. “What do I know about you?” his fingers wrapped around the glass, as he searched for your face. “I mean, I know what people say. What I’ve seen.”

You tilted your head, waiting. “Which is?”

“That you’re the golden girl, flawless. Beautiful and nice, sure, but… it’s more than that,” his eyes traced your face, almost tender, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “People can’t help but be in awe of you.”

A quiet breath escaped you, surprised by the way his words lingered, settling like an unexpected weight in your chest. Awe of you—it wasn’t something anyone had ever said to your face, and it sounded both charming and absurd coming from him. But something about the way he said it made you pause. You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or if, perhaps, he actually meant it.

“So, I’m a tabloid fantasy, then?” you teased softly, trying to keep the edge of doubt in your voice.

He chuckled, but his gaze remained steady, as if searching for something hidden beneath your smile. “No, you’re more than that,” he murmured. “You’re the woman everyone wants to know, but it seems like nobody really does. Even some of my teammates can’t stop talking about you… some of them are practically in love with you. They think you’re beautiful and—”

“And would you agree?” you prompted, you didn’t why you asked. You didn’t care what he thought of you.

He hesitated, his eyes tracing over your features in a way that felt too intimate for someone you’d barely spent any time with. “You're not bad, but if you toned down the attitude and that smart mouth of yours, I might just find you beautiful.” You laughed and playfully flipped him off, earning a chuckle from him. But then his expression shifted, and he grew serious again. “But you’re nice, that’s what I wanted to say. Like, actually nice. Not the superficial stuff everyone says to stay in the good graces of the media… probably like that Alina girl who definitely pretends to be nice.”

You scoffed, but your heart betrayed you, thudding a little faster under his gaze. “Nice? You think I’m nice?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. His eyes moved slowly over your face, as if trying to peek back a layer, to see the person beneath the perfect photos and poised interviews. “You… you’ve got more edge than what people think, but still nice, you know.”

His confidence was intoxicating, an irresistible blend of cockiness and charm that made it nearly impossible to ignore the urge to close the distance between you and kiss him senseless. Tonight, he looked ridiculously good—his light yellow dress shirt with a crisp white collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms in a way that only made you rub your thighs together. The way his black trousers hugged his figure and the subtle shine of his shine only added to the magnetic pull drawing you towards him.

A quiet stretched between you, heavy with unspoken tension, his words lingering in the air. He leaned back just enough, his guarded expression softened by the way his gaze stayed on you. “But what about you?” he asked, voice low and smooth. “What do you know about me, baby?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, watching him with newfound curiosity. “Honestly? Not much,” you admitted. “I know you’re 25, a famous basketball star,” you narrowed your eyes, watching the way his intense gaze never wavered from you. “You’re cocky—maybe a bit too cocky sometimes—and you love pushing people’s buttons. Especially mine. You probably like it, though, huh? Seeing how we'll react.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Go on…”

“And you’re a bit of a party animal. From all the photos out there, it seems like you’ve got a new girl on your arm every week. But despite that, you’re fiercely dedicated to your sport—and you’re damn good at it. The media practically worships every move you make on the court. That’s all I have on you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a glint of intrigue in his eyes as he leaned in, again. “And what’s your conclusion?” he asked, voice lower, as if this moment was just for the two of you.

“Not much,” you replied with a slight shrug. “I don’t know anything about you, Rafe—only the version everyone else sees.”

He breathed out slowly, his expression softening as he thought about your words. “So, we’re both just media fantasies,” he said, voice a quiet murmur. His fingers brushed against yours, the contact so subtle yet electric, igniting warmth that raced up your arm and made your heart pound a little faster.

“Maybe we are…” you replied softly, glancing down at his hand resting near yours on the table, close enough to close the gap between you. “But I guess if we’re planning on getting married and all, we should probably learn a bit more about each other, don’t you think?”

“Right.” His gaze softened, and a playful gleam flickered in his eyes. “So, what do you want to know?”

You tilted your head, unable to keep the teasing edge from your voice. “Honestly? If it were up to me, I’d probably prefer not to know a thing about you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t believe no one ever warned me about that smart mouth of yours. Haven’t seen a single headline on it.”

A smirk spread across your lips. “I’m saving it for my husband,” you replied sweetly, watching his expression shift, a spark of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

“Future husband,” he corrected with a soft smile, as if savoring the words.

“Future husband, that’s right,” you nodded. “So… I guess since we’re supposed to be newly dating, we should start with the basics, right? You know, things like your favorite color, your favorite movie…”

"That makes sense. So, my favorite color’s green, but not just any green—I’m talking deep green, like the kind you see in plants," he rambled. "And I guess my favorite movie’s probably ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’—"

"Oh, my God! Liking that movie is such a douchey choice," you teased, and he laughed along.

"Alright, then—what's your favorite movie, Miss Judgey McJudgerson?"

"I'm not judging—" he shot you a look and you sighed, nodding in surrender. "Alright, fine, maybe I judged a little. But can you blame me? Anyway," you continued, a spark of excitement in your tone, "a movie I can watch on repeat? ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’. And don't even think about making fun of it, because it’s honestly a masterpiece."

He tilted his head, feigning offense. "Oh, so ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ isn’t a masterpiece? Is that what you're saying?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you leaned back. "Look, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying all the jerks are obsessed with that movie."

His smirk grew, eyes glinting with challenge. "The jerks, huh?" His brows raised, his gaze holding yours. "So, I’m a jerk?"

You shrugged with a mischievous smile. "If the shoe fits."

“So,” he said, “you’re telling me my taste in movies is a red flag?”

You smirked, meeting his gaze. “I mean, ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ is practically a requirement for men with commitment issues. It’s the kind of movie someone watches to feel cool, you know?”

“Ouch.” He raised his glass, looking amused. “So what does ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’ say about you? That you’re a sucker for impossible relationships and grand romantic gestures?”

You feigned sigh, taking the glass of wine in your hands. “Maybe. Or maybe it just says I have taste,” you glanced at him over the rim of your glass, a smile teasing at the corners of your mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Enough on how shitty my taste in movies is,” he moved his hands dismissively. “Let’s focus on whether the ‘golden girl’ is a hopeless romantic. Are you?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“Your husband’s asking.”

You held yourself back from correcting him, and just scoffed. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just have a soft spot for movies with good storytelling, good humor, and good looking white boys.”

“You know, I might actually have a soft side for sappy movies too,” he shot back, his smile widening.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Right, and I’m the fucking queen of England.”

“What? Why? I could like them, you know.”

“Rafe, I bet you’d hate anything with a happy ending—”

“Holy shit! Rafe! My fucking dude on a date?”

The moment shattered as a voice cut through the air, loud and incredulous. Both of you turned your heads to see a tall blond guy wavering through tables with a grin as wide as the room itself.

“Topper,” Rafe muttered with a sigh and a look that bordered on agony.

“Rafe, my guy!” Topper laughed, eyes flickering between the two of you in delight. “I cannot believe my eyes. You—on a date? And with her?” He gestured to you, his excitement barely contained. “No offense, beautiful, but I thought Rafe’s only serious relationship was with basketball. You’re like a mythical creature right now.”

You fought back a laugh as Rafe shot Topper a glare, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Top,” he sighed, “aren’t you supposed to be somewhere? Literally anywhere else?”

“Oh, hell no. This is a one-in-a-million chance. Besides, I have to see this through. Rafe Cameron actually out with a woman he didn’t meet at a club? Man, this is incredible.”

Rafe pressed his fingers to his temples, visibly restraining himself from shoving his teammate out. “I swear, I’m this close to throwing you out of here.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Topper said, clapping him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. “Don’t be like that! I mean, I thought you were incapable of going on a real date, and here you are, actually acting all gentlemanly.” He glanced at you with a grin. “So, what’s it like dating Rafe? Has he tried any of his classic lines yet?”

You shrugged with a grin of your own. “If by classic lines, you mean being generally annoying? Then yes.”

Rafe raised his eyebrow, feigning offense. “Annoying? Really?”

“Am I wrong?” You met his gaze head-on, smirking. “Every time you speak, you’re trying to get under my skin—”

“Because I want to see what that smart mouth of yours will say back to me.”

Topper laughed, completely entertained, while you just shook your head, trying not to laugh. “So, I was right. You love riling people up just to see their reactions.”

He shook his head, eyes glinting. “Not people, sweetheart. Just you.”

Your cheeks warmed despite yourself, caught off guard by his focus. You quickly recovered, scoffing, “Oh, and that’s my cue to swoon, right?”

Rafe leaned back, his smirk victorious. “Whatever works.”

Topper threw his head back, laughing, as if he’d just won the best seat at the theater. “Oh, this is good. You guys… yeah, I’m getting popcorn next time.”

Rafe gave his friend one last pointed look, his eyes practically daring his friend to stick around. “I’m serious, Top. I’m here on an actual date, so if you want to keep your teeth intact, I’d suggest moving along.”

Topper raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning ear-to-ear. “Alrighty. But I’ve gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day you’d settle down—especially with someone who can actually keep you in line,” he gave you a wink. “Good luck, beautiful. You’ll need it with this one.”

With a final smile and a nod to you, Topper sauntered away, glancing back with an amused shake of his head as he left.

Rafe turned back to you, letting out an exasperated breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about him. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

You grinned. “Seems like he knows you pretty well, though. I’m actually surprised he didn’t say more.”

“Top’s just not used to seeing me on a date, that’s all. He’s right, though… this isn’t my usual scene,” his eyes traced over your face, lingering on the way you smiled. “But I’m getting married, so I gotta get used to it.”

The server returned with your orders, interrupting the moment. Rafe took a bite of his food and you did the same, each of you eating in a silence as the tension between you grew stronger. Finally, he spoke.

“So, back to this hopeless romantic thing you swear you’re not,” he began, his voice light but his gaze steady. “You say you’re not, but you can’t stop watching ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’. Are you telling me you don’t want some big, dramatic love story? A guy standing in the rain, begging for a second chance?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off, though his question struck a nerve. “I mean… who wouldn’t want that? But not everyone’s looking for a grand gesture. Some of us just want someone real.”

A flicker of something flashed in his eyes. “Real, huh? So you’re looking for real?”

“Of course. That’s all anyone really wants, right?” You felt vulnerable, caught off guard by his interest in something deeper. “But real is hard to come by… especially when you’re both in the spotlight.”

Rafe’s smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked down, almost as if he were weighing your words. When he looked back up, his expression was softer, thoughtful in a way that felt almost too intimate for a first date. “Maybe that’s something we have in common then.”

Surprised, you blinked, watching as he traced the rim of his glass absently. You hadn’t expected him to say that. The Rafe you knew from headlines and public appearances was never the reflective type. And yet, here he was, letting down his guard, even if just a tiny bit.

“So, the basketball star has a soft side?” you teased, unable to resist breaking the tension. “Who would’ve guessed?”

His lips curved into a grin, smoldering. “Don’t go spreading that around. Gotta keep some mystery.”

You both continued eating in a comfortable rhythm, making light conversation about inconsequential things—places you’d been, places you still wanted to see. Each laugh that slipped out came a little easier, every smile more relaxed as you both unwound.

As the last plates were cleared and Rafe paid, you glanced over his shoulder and noticed a familiar face in the back of the restaurant. Alina Ivanov, was seated at a nearby table, staring at you both with a smirk that sent a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you looked away, pulse spiking with a mixture of irritation and unease. It felt as though you were being watched through a magnifying glass, judged, evaluated, and silently torn apart.

Rafe’s gaze followed yours, and his hand found the small of your back as he leaned in. “Don’t mind her. Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly, his voice a reassuring warmth in the sudden chill. He guided you to the door, ignoring Alina’s gaze as he led you out into the cool night air.

Outside, the city hummed around you, and Rafe’s hand lingered at your back, grounding you. The air was a welcome relief, a quiet reprieve from the intensity of the restaurant. When you reached his car, he opened the door for you, his gaze lingering on you with an unreadable intensity before he rounded the car to the driver’s side. It was a small gesture, yet oddly grounding, as if he knew exactly when to offer support without crowding you.

(The chauffeur left and let them the car.)

The car ride was a soft blur of city lights, fading into a serene silence. You leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass against your skin as you stared at the passing streets, bright with shop lights and late-night wanderers. But your mind wandered far from New York.

You thought of home—your home country, the land you hadn’t seen in far too long. Your heart ached for the family you had left behind, a pain that had quietly settled within you. You hadn’t been the perfect daughter, nor the obedient child they had wanted, but you missed them, missed your siblings. You wondered what they’d think if they saw you now—would they be proud? Or would they find this new life of yours too far from the one you left behind?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop until Rafe’s voice broke the silence. “We’re here.”

Startled, you lifted your head, blinking as you recognized the familiar building. The faint neon sign from the bodega down the street cast a soft glow, painting the pavement in shades of blue and pink. You glanced at Rafe, his face softened in the gentle light, a calm patience in his expression as he looked at you.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly, feeling a strange reluctance to leave the moment behind.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Anytime.” The two syllables held an unspoken promise, a rare gentleness that seemed almost out of place for him. He paused, watching you as if he wanted to say something more, but he merely gave a slight nod, lips curling in a faint smile.

You reached for the door, but his voice made you pause. “Hey.”

You turned, finding his face close, the space between you shrinking as his fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, catching you by surprise. His touch was soft, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone with an unexpected tenderness. His hand lingered, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek—a feather-light touch that sent warmth spiraling through you.

The kiss lasted just a moment, yet it was enough to make your heart race, to make you painfully aware of every point of contact. His breath fanned across your skin, and you could feel the faint scratch of stubble against your cheek. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, the usual cockiness tempered with something softer, something far more real.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, a small smile ghosting his lips.

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Goodnight, Cameron,” you managed, feeling the warmth still lingering on your cheek, the phantom sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin.

As you stepped out of the car, you looked back once more to see him watching you, that familiar smirk playing on his lips but softened by something else, something deeper you couldn’t place. You gave a small wave, trying not to overthink the moment as he pulled away, leaving you standing in the quiet night, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your skin.

chapter four

[ghostlyferrettarot]

⭐Pick a Picture: 💄💗✨How others describe you and your magnetism 💄💗✨

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

✨️Masterlist✨️

🍨Pile 1:

🍨How those closest to describe see you:

While many describe you as warm and trustworthy, those closest to you also describe you as someone with a big heart and a really beautiful personality. I also see that people tend to complimnet your hair and your fashion/style. You are the kind of person who is always willing to give, without expecting anything in return, and that generosity is what stands out most about you. You may not realize it, but people perceive you as a constant support, a source of stability in their lives. And, although sometimes your kindness can be taken advantage of by those who do not value enough what you do for them, most people who know you feel that they can trust you unconditionally.

🍨 Your magnetism:

Finally, people not only see you as a source of emotional support, but they also sense a calm energy in you. You are that person who, even if you are not looking to be the center of attention, has a way of attracting others effortlessly. Maybe your laugh has that infectious edge that makes everyone relax, or maybe your soft yet confident way of speaking makes what you say get heard with extra attention. In short, people describe you as a mix of serenity, warmth, and confidence. You're like an emotional refuge, someone who offers their light generously, touching the lives of those around you without even thinking about it too much. Your presence is a reminder of how important it is to be authentic, and people feel more fulfilled just by being around you.

🍬Pile 2:

🍬How people close to you describe you:

People who really know you, whether family or close friends, describe as someone who has a lot of strength in their lives. Even though you may be introverted or more reserved, they know that if they ever need you, you'll be the person they can rely on without hesitation. You don't bother making empty promises or saying what people want to hear; you're direct, genuine, and committed to what you say. This level of honesty and authenticity is what makes you deeply respected. Also, those around you often feel like they can learn a lot from you, as you have a unique perspective on life. Maybe you're the type of person who stays calm even in stressful situations, and that makes everyone seek you out when things get tough. Your ability to stay calm in the face of adversity is one of the reasons people trust you: they know that you're not prone to getting carried away by emotion, but always take a step back and consider all options before acting.

🍬 Your magnetism:

People also notice your emotional intelligence, and how your mind can find solutions even when others are caught up in their emotions. You have a way of seeing things that seems beyond the obvious, and that generates great fascination. You are the kind of person who doesn't need to be loud or brash to get what you want, because your magnetism is so strong that things happen simply by your presence. Although you may seem distant at first, people who get to know you feel a deep connection with you, as if they can open up without fear of being judged. You have that special quality of making people feel accepted just as they are. And despite being so strong and so capable, there is something gentle and protective about you, something that makes others feel safe around you.

🧸Pile 3:

🧸 How people close to you describe you:

Those who are closest to you describe you as a trusted person with a great heart (your heart chakra could be powerful <3). They know they can come to you when they need more than just superficial advice. You don't just give answers, but offer perspectives that invite deep reflection. Your ability to see beyond the surface makes others trust you, because they feel that, when talking to you, they are not being judged. You are the kind of person who listens with their heart, offering answers that go beyond what is expected, with a gentle honesty that never hurts. You are often seen as a mother or father figure in their lives, even though you don't necessarily literally fill that role. It's like your heart is open to everyone, and that's something that makes you irreplaceable. You don't care about superficialities, and that's what makes people appreciate you so much: the things that really matter to you are genuine bonds, truth, and deep connection.

🧸Your magnetism:

Your magnetism is quiet, but powerful. You don't need to be loud or demand attention, because your calm and wise presence speaks for itself. People sense that something special is behind your calm, and that's one of the reasons they seek you out when they need guidance or just to feel at peace. Your ability to be an emotional refuge is something that not everyone has, and that makes you exceptional.Some people may see you as someone a little enigmatic or reserved, but those who really know you know that behind that serenity there is a heart full of love and loyalty <3

🩷⋆˚✿˖°ᡣ𐭩🩷Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🩷⋆˚✿˖°ᡣ𐭩🩷

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Shameless

Warning ⚠️; internalized homophobia, Homelander is his own warning, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, fluff. 🔞

Pairing; Bottom!Homelander/Top!Male!Reader

Summary; John and you are two opposites. He is a comedian and a liar, you are bluntly honest and direct. He cares about his image, you don't. He is ashamed of your relationship while you are shameless.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the sofa sipping at your drink, eyes staring at John with amusement. Still in his costume, your lover walked in circle while biting his nail. He looked ridiculous in your eyes. All those fake muscles and the cape were too much. He looked always better naked, natural, and not so fake.

- “You are going to get yourself dizzy, my love. Just get out of those ridiculous clothes and come sit with me.” You said, waving your hand to show his costume. “We have so little time together, I would prefer having you by my side than whatever you are doing right now.”

John stared at you, eyes glowing red and you just laughed at him. You weren't scared, never was, because John couldn't kill you. No one could. It was part of your power, your curse, but in a moment like this, it was a blessing. Watching your lover get worked up for nothing was funny.

- “How can you laugh in such a situation?” John asked, voice hissing at you as you rolled your eyes. “Its a disaster! I cannot be seen like… like…”

- “Like the man you truly are?” You finished his sentence, sighing. “John, no one cares about that picture. Everyone will call it fake and those who don't, well who cares? Just discredit them and forget about it.”

John said nothing and looked away, his eyes back to normal. You shook your head as he kept walking around the room, trying to find a solution. You didn't understand him. Why come to you when you couldn't help when you were the source of this situation? Well, you weren't fully responsible. It wasn't you who had decided to kiss on a rooftop where anyone could see, that had been John.

And now there was a picture of you two kissing, your hands squeezing Homelander’s ass, circulating around the internet. It was, for you, hilarious. For John? The end of the world was happening.

- “Can't you stop being overly dramatic for five minutes?” You asked, harsher than you wanted.

You gasped in surprise as the back of your head hit the floor, hard, making you see stars. John had pined you down after knocking over the sofa and sat on you. You shivered, licking your lips as you plunged your gaze into his glowing one.

- “And can't you take it seriously for once? Don't you realize how serious the situation is for me? I am supposed to be perfect with no weaknesses and I can not be seen like that with another man.” John spat, his hand grabbing your chin painfully tight.

- “But you are not perfect John and you'll never be!” You replied with a sneer.

It was the wrong answer because next thing you knew John punched you and pain exploded in your jaw. Blood splashed all over your lover and you as your jaw hit the wall and fell onto the ground. From anger, John expression turned to horror as he realized what he had done. From amused, you became enraged.

You didn't gave John any chance and kicked him in the chest, sending the sup flying against the ceiling. You watched your lover fall loudly on the ground as you got up, spilling blood all over the place. You closed your eyes, pain swallowing you up as nerves, bones and everything else slowly regrew. Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you felt like your lower jaw was burning in the fiery pits of Hell.

You heard John begging, swearing he didn't mean to hurt you like that and you didn't care. What mattered was how he still did it.

You opened your eyes staring angrily at the hero still lying on the ground. You walked up to him and saw John tensing and closing on himself before you grabbed the man by the collar. Without a word, you back-slapped like he was a bitch, splitting open his lip before grabbing his jaw like he did to you. You leaned down until your nose brushed his.

- “Listen here you pathetic excuse of a man; you are nothing. You are not a hero, you are not perfect and you are not an inspiration. The only thing you are is a childish man who can't take no for an answer and can't live without the approval of the world.” Your words hit home as you saw tears building up in John’s eyes and you sneered again. “You are pathetic. Truly pathetic. The world loves the fake image of you and would turn on you at the first opportunity. Their love is conditional unlike mine and yet you chose those worms over me. I who had always been here for you no matter what. I who helped you bond with your bastard son and helped you when no one wanted to. I bloodied my hands for you! And after everything that how you thank me?”

Venom filled your words as you stared at your lover. John was silently crying and looked away, not daring to look at you. You felt betrayed, and humiliated. You did so much for that man child and he turned against you so easily. You didn't want to see him anymore, wanted him gone from your sight.

- “Think about it John. Who will take care of you when you are old and your body is betraying you? Who will be there for you when the world cheer for a younger and more attractive hero? Them? Your so-called fans? No. They won't, but I would have.” You said, turning your back to him as you walked away. “Now get out.”

- “I’m sorry! I didn't…” John tried but stopped as you turned your head, eyes filled with anger.

- “GET OUT.” You snarled.

And just like that John was gone. A soft breeze caressed your face after he flew away. Sighing, you cleaned the room and threw away your jaw. The pain still lingered and you massaged your chin before sighing. You hated fighting with John like that, but recently it was every other day. The more time passed the more he became unhinged and impulsive. You could barely recognize the man who sought love and attention, the man who melted under your hands at night seemed gone.

It was late that night when John came back. He didn't call, didn't text. He just showed up. You were in bed reading a book in the light of a candle when you heard your front door opening. Only John had a spare so you knew it was him.

He didn't come up directly and you ignored him. You were still angry at his stunt and, frankly, didn't wish to see him. Not right now, not tomorrow. But there he was, walking into your home as if it was his.

After a few minutes, you heard John walking up the stairs and coming toward your room. You didn't look up when he entered nor when he called your name with a timid and soft voice. Instead you clenched your book harder.

- “I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house, John. What are you doing here?” You asked, voice cold as you turned the page of your book.

Your lover didn't answer. Instead, John approached the bed and put down a mix of things; a gift basket filled with your favorite snacks and drinks and another full of books. Sighing, you closed your book and turned your attention on John.

There he stood in civilian clothes and his head low. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Had you not been angry at him you would have hugged John. But you were still pissed off.

- “I am so sorry for what I did and said.” John whispered, looking away as he sat on the edge of the mattress. “I have no excuses and you are right. You've always been there for me and you didn't deserve any of this, but I did.”

You could see tears in his eyes and the sight was almost pitiful. Of course, John couldn't live up with what he did and would regret his actions. You didn't. The brat had deserved your words and hands.

- “I don't want… I can not lose you…” John whispered so low that you barely heard it.

You sighed and leaned back against your pillows, crossing your arms and studying him. John was clearly remorseful and you knew he had his lesson, for now at least. Shaking your head you gently tapped the mattress next to you and John didn't wait to lay down. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face against your chest. You brushed his blond hair with your fingers, heart almost getting softer as you saw how happy he was now.

- “You are losing me, John. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you, but stop it. I don't have the patience to deal with your childish tantrum just because a picture of us leaked on the internet. We are celebrities, it's going to keep happening.” You said and your lover held you tighter. “Hush now. I forgive you this time, but I might not give you another chance.”

John nodded and didn't let go. You kept brushing his hair and let your fingers down his neck. He was cold, colder than normal and you could feel his heartbeat racing. He was scared and terrified which pleased you. Maybe he wouldn't go against you anymore, maybe he would stop thinking he could do as he wished.

After all, he was your pet, yours to use as you wished and you couldn't have a bad dog by your side. As much as you loved John, you didn't want him if he was to lose his mind and become a liability. But at that moment he looked so small and delicate in your arms, almost broken and you couldn't resist him.

You smiled as you felt his body relax against you as he slowly fell asleep. Maybe you could use his fear and remorse against him. Maybe you could force him to come clean about your relationship. Not now, the fight was still too fresh but soon enough he might give in. And once you were out to the world, John would truly be yours entirely.

[shutupineedtothink]

Siuan & Moiraine and some 3x08 thoughts (positive)

Hoo boy I don’t know if I should be saying shit but I’m gonna!

I get being angry about Siuan, and tbh yeah idk if showing us her severed head was necessary.

But as for this being kill your gays? Y’all, at least half the people in this show are queer, and this is a world where people die, often violently. I would imagine this is a world where a lot more people, queer and otherwise, are going to start dying a lot more frequently if we get subsequent seasons. And even the most powerful people are not immune to that. To quote another witch, Death comes for us all.

And, truly, as much as I love them, this story does not center around Siuan and Moiraine and their relationship, and it has never promised a positive outcome for them. In fact, the show has been telling us from the beginning that their love will not save them. It’s kind of their whole thing.

It’s always been very obvious to me that they were never going to get a happy ending or make it til the end of the show. Now, I’m someone who thrives on those stories. I live for the bittersweet, the sad song that somehow also expands you and makes you grateful to be alive, and that’s what they’ve always been. “In this life or the next.” “I thought we’d have more time.” “We always think that.” “Then I’ll find you, in the next life and the next, until we get it right.” “And I will wait for you, every time.”

To me, THAT is a far more powerful, far more human, far more romantic and beautiful story than a happy ending. Not that happy endings aren’t good too, in some cases and as we know it’s not cool to have every queer love story end in tragedy. But we do have those happy queer stories now too. We do live in a world where they exist more prominently, and different kinds of people are making more different kinds of stories than ever. This particular one just isn’t meant to be happily ever after. And it never was, it never pretended to be. If you got your hopes up and now you’re angry and sad that this was the ending for them, I get it. Feel those feelings, they are valid. But I don’t think the show is wrong for this choice. I think their story was always heading in this direction, and it was always going to break our hearts. And it’s no less beautiful for it.

So basically what I’m saying is yes the kill your gays trope exists. But there is also nuance to be had here. In a world where we have so much more diversity in stories and representation than we ever have, its no longer that one way is right (happy endings for the gays) and another is wrong (tragic endings for the gays). There’s more to it than that. And when the writers have been telegraphing a bittersweet story for Siuan and Moiraine for as long as they have (and pressing hard on that throughout this season particularly), I can’t be mad about it.

Now I’m a show only and I can’t speak to what happened in the books vs. the show re: Siuan’s plot line. But if I die on one pop culture hill, it will always be “do not judge the adaptation by how closely it adheres to every single bit of the source material.” This adaptation, more than just about any other, simply cannot afford that with the constraints of adapting a 14 book series into an 8 season tv show, with 8 episodes a season. And yet incredibly, the source material itself gives us the in-canon solution: this is a universe with multiple versions of the same story, multiple turns of the Wheel. When you start seeing it as that, as a variation on the book series, which itself is implied to have multiple versions in other timelines (if I’m understanding correctly), then here we are. The show is not the books. It must stand on its own, it must make its own choices.

You may disagree with the choices the show makes, but don’t disagree on the basis that it’s different from the books. It has to be different from the books, full stop. That’s what adaptation literally means. It means change. I would go on to say that the best adaptations make choices/changes based on the constraints and opportunities of its medium, which is also happening here (actors having to leave the show and move on to other opportunities, so do we let them go out with a bang or not). But I digress.

Now as far as the race politics at play here. Oof. I get it, I see it. And this might be where I shoot myself in the foot. But again… there has to be nuance, right? To me, Siuan stood in her power until the end, even as her sisters turned on her and the Dark closed in. (The sort of reverse parallel bookend of this to Liandrin’s trial in 3x01 is crazyyyy.) She declared herself for the Light and she did not back down even as everything was taken away from her. She shook Elaida to her core, I have no doubt about that. And she said I am the daughter of the river. I am the water itself. You cannot break me. Death is not the end. It is only the door to the next turning of the Wheel.

Also, we had another black woman in this episode who was literally chained up by a white woman and thrown into the sea to drown (talk about making a Choice), who finally found her power by calling on her own advice as a mother to her daughter (aka her inner child?), freed herself from those chains, biblically parted the damn sea and walked out claiming her space and strength as the most powerful channeller in a thousand years. I’m not saying Nynaeve cancels out Siuan. I’m saying they both exist in the same episode, in the same world. Nuance.

If you think I’m wrong, you can tell me so. I would prefer you did so nicely. I’m always open to changing my mind. But there’s what I think for now.

[the-bees-patella]

ok, well now what.

My fellow Americans: hello from your local pissed-the-fuck-off former community organizer.

You're probably seeing a lot of calls to support each other right now, and that's all well and good in principle. Where we tend to stumble is largely practical: we're not sure where, how, or when. The same way it works to make a plan to vote, make a plan to help. A few key points:

Please do not get impatient if the organization's response to you is late or generic at first, or if what you're asked to do isn't what you offered. A lot of local organizations—where your impact will be the greatest—are very small and 100% volunteer-run. You're here to help. Don't be one more thing they have to manage.

Be honest with yourself and the organization about your capacity. If that's a couple hours on a weekend from time to time, that's great. If that's driving people places once a month, if it's a small, regular donation—whatever it is, it's one more person helping who wasn't before. The point of doing it all together is that none of us can do everything, and it isn't on any one of us to do it all. It's much easier to scale up your participation than it is to take on a big responsibility and back out.

Stick with it. Everybody's fired up right now, and many organizations won't be lacking for personnel or funds...for now. They'll need you when it gets boring, when people get tired and busy. Whether it's recurring donations or one shift a week, stick with it for as long as you can, which is why see point 2 above. The need will not stop. The help can't either.

My aim with this brief list of organizations/funds is not to be comprehensive, it's more a starting point of both actual orgs and the types of opportunities there are out there. I highly encourage you to look around in your local community. There are people out there working on creative solutions in innovative ways to problems you didn't even know existed.

I know it might sound small or facile, but I promise, going out there and talking to real people will help. Just go to one meeting, on Zoom, in person, anything. Start there. Everything you're able to do is more than there was before.

Fascists thrive on despair and isolation, on mistrust and fear. But there is good in this world, it's worth fighting for, and you're part of it. The time is now. Let's fuck them up. (List below the cut).

If you're on bluesky, here is a much more specific list of organizations. If you're not, reply to this post or send me an ask with your region and I'll respond if I can. Everyone else, please feel free to add your local organizations in the reblogs. Make sure you do your vetting first; please link to a direct source/person/means of contact if you add something to the list.

Trainings and support for leaders to run for public school boards

And library boards

Black and brown youth organizing

Labor organizing in the South/Southwest

Mutual Aid in NYC/Donate to keep that mutual aid active

Mutual aid/volunteer orgs in DC

Supporting and training young progressives to run for office

Collective action against medical debt

Climate action

[ms-demeanor]

Maybe I should wait for the PDF, but I’ve been thinking about password managers lately and might forget to check for that. My problem is that if there’s one thing I want to never ever put on the cloud to potentially get compromised, it’s my password information. But if there’s one thing I don’t want to lose access to, it’s also my password information. This seems to rule out both local options like KeePassXC and remote ones like Bitwarden.

I've started to become somewhat annoyed by the "there is no cloud, there is only someone else's computer" thing (this is a general thing, not specifically directed at you but you reminded me of it).

The risks of putting things on the cloud are that the internet or the provider will go down and you'll lose access to your data OR that the data will be compromised because the information is essentially public because it's on someone else's device.

Losing access because the provider crashes and burns or because there is a global internet outage is a distinct possibility, however with most password managers it is very very easy to download a copy of your data, which you can then store as an encrypted file on your desktop.

With companies like Bitwarden and Proton, which have open source encrypted cloud storage, your risk of compromise from being on someone else's computer is essentially zero. It IS important to make sure that you're finding a provider who is actually encrypting your shit and is not holding onto your password, which is why Bitwarden and Proton are the providers I keep recommending (privacyguides.org has recommendations here; bitwarden, protonpass, and keepassxc are all on the list, all of these are extremely safe options).

And that's where I have the problem with the "other people's computer" thing. I would have zero problems with storing a properly encrypted file in the comments of a facebook page. If a document had good encryption I would post it on livejournal and not worry about people getting into it. If you are working with good encryption, there is zero risk of compromise when keeping your shit on someone else's computer.

So I actually think the solution for either side of this conundrum is the same: If you're worried about losing access to your password manager because a service shuts down or the internet blows up, download a copy of your data to your desktop and store it in an encrypted folder on your computer. If you're worried about losing access to your password manager if your physical hardware is damaged in a disaster, export a copy of your data, save it as an encrypted file, and upload your encrypted file to gmail for all it matters - they will straight up not be able to get into it.

But that's also all kind of beside the point because a major feather in Bitwarden's cap is that you can self-host. It doesn't need to go on someone else's cloud, you can put it on your own server and never worry that someone else is going to tinker with your password manager.

Either way, you are sort of worrying beyond your means because if you're not using a password manager right now you are almost certainly at greater risk of credential stuffing attacks than anything else and need to put out that fire.

Anyway if you're at Harvey Mudd have you tried Dr. Grubbs across from where Rhino used to be? Everything on the menu is great but there is this jalapeño garlic sauce they've got to go with their mains that is so good that I want like two gallons of it.

[theconcealedweapon]

I hope you don't mind if I ask, and if you do feel free to delete this ask! I saw on your bio that you added former incel, and well let's just say that I know very many interesting people that I unfortunately can't just cut contact from. I was wondering what changed your perspective on things, and how, you would say, I can change others perspectives?

if that's too personal, don't worry about answering :) hope you have a great day nonetheless! (and if you do answer, thank you very much :) )

I became an incel because I grew up as an undiagnosed autistic, so I had struggles that no one understood. Since I didn't understand the source of the struggles, it was very easy to believe that my struggles were from being male and that women were the problem. I trusted pickup artists, which was very easy to do because they were the only ones who treated socializing like a science instead of giving oversimplified advice like "talk to people" or assuming that fear and lack of confidence is the only problem. Pickup artists promote anger toward women by making it seem like women are intentionally condemning men to a life of loneliness in order to feed their massive egos.

If you're hoping to prevent others from being incel, the solution is to directly refute the reason why he became incel in the first place. He likely has a legitimate source of his struggles that he's completely justified in being angry about and that propaganda convinced him to blame on women. Many bigots and abusers in general are people with legitimate anger who are misdirecting it. If you find that source, you can help him direct his anger to where it belongs.

Especially if he's autistic, he likely has struggled to explain things for his whole life. Make sure you understand what he's saying before you give advice. If you jump to conclusions and give advice without understanding what's actually happening, you'll only further remind him that no one understands him.

Since he had limited interaction with people and since he was frequently misunderstood, he likely started trusting an unreliable source of information. Maybe he listens to pickup artists. Maybe he copies what he sees others doing and misses important details. Maybe he copies what he saw on TV without realizing that many patterns on TV are caricatures. If this happens, the solution is to directly refute the source. It's not as simple as "don't listen to them". He needs to know exactly what parts they're wrong about.

Your safety comes first, so if you feel like you must coddle him in order to prevent him from lashing out at you, that is okay. But you won't be doing him a service by doing that. What he needs is an accurate understanding, and coddling him would only throw that off. It's okay to aggressively confront him if he's saying or doing something wrong. But make sure it's clear exactly what parts he's doing wrong, and make sure he's not just accidentally misphrasing something.

Also, accept that you may not be able to change his mind. This is especially true if he's well into adulthood, since that would mean he's had more of a choice in who he is. I was an incel as a teenager. Also, while many incels are autistic, not all are.

I used he/him pronouns because of personal experience and because men are much more likely to be targeted with the same propaganda. If you wish to explain these things to women, it would probably be better to seek advice from women.

[simplifyworkforce]

The Future of Workforce and Supply Chain Optimization: Leveraging Technology for Efficiency

In an increasingly complex business landscape, companies must optimize operations to maintain competitiveness. The right technologies, including Workforce Management Software (WMS), Supply Chain Management Software (SCMS), and Direct Sourcing Tools, streamline processes, reduce costs, and enhance agility. By integrating these solutions, businesses create a more resilient and adaptive ecosystem to navigate future challenges.

Enhancing Workforce Operations with Smart Solutions

Managing large and diverse teams requires real-time insights and automation. WMS provides:

Automated Scheduling & Time Tracking: Aligns staff availability with demand.

Labor Cost Optimization: AI-driven analytics improve efficiency.

Compliance & Risk Management: Tracks regulations and policies to minimize risks.

Enhanced Employee Engagement: Self-service portals improve satisfaction and retention.

With the right system, organizations gain greater control, ensuring smoother workflows and cost-effectiveness.

Transforming Logistics and Procurement

A well-structured supply chain is the backbone of a successful business. SCMS enhances logistics, procurement, and vendor relations with features like:

Real-Time Inventory Tracking: Prevents shortages and excess stock.

Automated Procurement & Vendor Management: Simplifies order processing.

Data-Driven Demand Forecasting: AI-powered insights optimize planning.

Risk Mitigation: Identifies vulnerabilities and ensures compliance.

Integrating workforce and supply chain management software ensures seamless coordination and efficiency.

Streamlining Talent Acquisition

Traditional hiring methods often rely on intermediaries, adding costs and inefficiencies. Direct sourcing solutions empower companies to:

Build Employer-Branded Talent Pools: Engage with pre-vetted candidates.

Reduce Hiring Expenses: Minimize reliance on external agencies.

Accelerate Time-to-Hire: Streamline recruitment for quicker onboarding.

Improve Candidate Matching: AI-driven processes enhance job-fit accuracy.

A well-executed approach ensures a seamless hiring process aligned with business needs.

A Unified Strategy for Maximum Efficiency

A comprehensive approach that integrates workforce and supply chain technologies delivers:

End-to-End Visibility: A single dashboard for staff, vendors, and logistics.

Seamless Planning: Aligns staffing with supply chain requirements.

Optimized Cost Management: Reduces labor and operational expenses.

Scalability & Agility: Enables rapid adaptation to market changes.

Conclusion

As businesses navigate an evolving digital landscape, adopting advanced tools is essential for sustained growth. These solutions streamline operations, improve efficiency, and enhance resilience.

Ready to elevate your strategy? Investing in the right technology ensures long-term success in a competitive market.

[blacktabbygames]

Hello! I absolutely love Slay The Princess! I was wondering, were there any major inspirations that helped you create this game that you wouldn’t mind sharing? I’m always fascinated by the art that inspires the art I love so I’d be very curious and happy to hear what vibes helped you all piece together this wonderful game!

It's always tough to pin down inspirations. I think there's kind of three types: 1. Hard inspirations — things that you know are sources of inspiration at the start of a project. Or things that become known sources of inspiration partway through a project. These are sometimes, but not always technical.

2. Soft inspirations — these are more vibes based. Kind of like "what's going through my head on loop while working on a specific chapter." Almost never technical, and for me, this tends to be music more than anything else. (But maybe it's music *from* something specifically)

3. Loose inspirations — these are more along the lines of formative pieces of media. Stuff that seeps into your soul and directs your development as an artist or person, but not in a way where you can specifically tell what its impact is. Sometimes overlaps with #2 Anyways, some examples for each. Hard Inspirations:

• Disco Elysium — IMO hands down the best piece of interactive media ever made, and probably one of the most obvious influences on Slay the Princess. The concept of using internal voices to represent the player's thoughts helped us get around one of the biggest writing challenges in Slay the Princess — if the Princess changes based on your perspective, how do we codify what the player's thinking? The voices were a solution to interpret those choices in sensible ways and inform our players of how the game was reading their choices. Much better than breaking immersion and outright asking players what they tought. • Soma — we didn't play Soma until we were about half of the way through our work on Slay the Princess, but it was one of those games that felt so thematically on-point. I still think about this game most weeks. • The Stanley Parable — I like when narrators get frustrated at players for doing silly things. It helps when your narrator is British, too.

• Madoka — it's like 12 episodes long. Just watch it.

• Evangelion — Similar bucket to Soma. Didn't watch it until we were most of the way done, but boy does it have some similar vibes. Soft Inspirations/Music I've Kept On Loop While Working On the Game I won't tell you what music was looped for what routes. • Ceremonials (Florence + the Machine) — one of my all time favorite artists, and just a phenomenal album.

• Presumably Dead Arm (Sidney Gish) — super underrated. No Dogs Allowed is a great album.

• Haunted (Poe) — another banger album.

• Black Holes and Revelations (Muse)

I'll leave that third bucket unanswered lest this post become 50 pages long.

[ekrixart]

this is a dumb question, but does Vincent even like cooking? He pursues it with such a singular mindset, so much so that losing his sense of taste drove him to commit murder, yet he seems so miserable in general. I ask because cooking is such an intimate thing, food is not there to sustain you, but to nourish and enrich you. Food is a very integral part of being alive that you have to have a passion for it and like doing it. Vincent seems to only care about his restaurant and how his food is perceived, not the actual food itself. Even Vincent knows how miserable it is to eat without enjoying it, as he said to Rody in ending 3. If food is not enjoyable to eat, why eat it. If food is not enjoyable to cook, why does he cook?

Not a dumb question at all! Vince's desire to cook is inherently selfish as it's done to fulfill a love of food that he can't even enjoy- what he's looking for without realizing it is to taste when what he NEEDS in order to feel satisfied is to make food that others can taste. The solution for him to feel love would be the act of loving and caring for others which he was close to getting with Rody but was too obsessed with himself to accomplish. Food in dead plate is a pretty direct parallel to love and how all the characters interact with it. The only way Vince would be able to feel love and passion for his craft is by vicariously enjoying the food he makes for others- I imagine he doesn't usually enjoy cooking but it's still his main source of pride and accomplishment. He's always had a passion for food, he's always loved cooking, it's his life's calling and regardless of his taste going away it's a hard thing to shake. He appreciates the skill and craftsmanship of making recipes and experimentation but due to an inability to enjoy it he's stuck in a cycle of frustration and dissatisfaction, never able to actually enjoy the things he puts so much effort into. The nights where he made the "leftovers" for Rody were probably the most enjoyment he got out of cooking in a long time,

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Character Development: Obstacles

At the heart of any story is a main character on a quest to resolve a conflict and reach a desired goal. A writer’s job is to make the story compelling by placing obstacles in the protagonist’s way.

Obstacles - a literary device that can build tension, transform characters, and propel a story in a new direction. Obstacles—combined with a protagonist determined to overcome them—are essential elements of a great story.

Ways to Use Obstacles to Enhance Character Development

The best way to accentuate the tension, raise the stakes, and fast-track character growth in a story is to create problems for your character that threaten to derail their journey. Here are ways you can introduce obstacles to enhance your story:

Use obstacles to reveal character motivation. As a writer, you need to understand what motivates your characters and how they respond to problems. If it helps, work on some basic character development exercises. While you should flesh out the basics, like the character’s personality traits, mannerisms, physical appearance, and quirks, you need to know more about their life and what they’ve been through to figure out what motivates their actions. In the actual story, obstacles will illuminate your character’s motivations by drawing on these attributes. This will help you create a dynamic and relatable character.

Layer obstacles for deeper tension. Obstacles can be literal—a physical person or object that stands in the protagonist’s way—or they can be unseen forces acting against a character. Use both types of obstacles to layer tension and create a story with texture and depth. For example, weave an internal conflict into the storyline, and create a way that a character’s beliefs are challenged by their problem-solving actions.

Use subplots to complicate things. Every subplot needs a purpose. Write subplots for secondary characters that ultimately create complications for your protagonist.

Put obstacles in your antagonist’s way. Why should your protagonist have all of the problems? Make your antagonist more than just the bad guy. They need everything your main character has—complexity, backstory, problems, and obstacles. Figure out what their motivation is for going against the protagonist, and slow down their chances of success with obstacles.

Use obstacles to build a transformative character arc. Just when things are looking good for your protagonist and it seems like they’ve found a solution to their problem, put up a barrier to impede their progress. Obstacles are a force for transformation that creates memorable characters. When a character changes over the course of a story, they become more three-dimensional and intriguing. Think of Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. Each obstacle he meets changes him until his encounter with the Ghost of Christmas Future and his final transformation.

Reasons Problem-Solving Is Important in Storytelling

To overcome obstacles, fictional characters need to develop problem-solving skills. Creating challenges for your protagonist is an important element in storytelling for several reasons:

Problem-solving propels a story forward. Every story hinges on a character facing a problem. When the main character’s dilemma is revealed at the beginning of a story, most often during the inciting incident, it establishes the purpose of the plot. The main character’s journey as they navigate obstacles and solve problems drives the narrative arc through to the end of the story.

Problem-solving skills are a powerful tool for character development. When real people face challenges in real life, they reveal a lot about themselves by how they react. When you put obstacles in a character’s way, it’s an opportunity to reveal deeper details about who they are by how they respond. If you ever have a story with a flat character, give them a situation that forces them to employ problem-solving skills and watch them come to life.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[hellothisisangle]

This idea came from someone asking me about V’s internal organs and gastro/intestinal workings. I delved into a bit of bio/mechanical research that might make sense in the Cyberpunk world. Follow the jump below!

↓

SomaTek specializes in manufacturing synthetic organs designed to transcend our organic limitations.

SomaTek GastroPro™
In a world ravaged by toxic food chains, tainted water supplies, and unreliable agriculture, the GastroPro™ synthetic stomach- amply nicknamed “the iron gut”- is a feat of mechanical organ replacement. Capable of digesting virtually any hazardous or non-nutritive substance without harm, while mimicking and surpassing the core functions of a natural biological system.

The GastroPro™ environment utilizes a stabilized industrial-grade acidic solution (SomaTek’s trademarked confidential blend of fluorinated superacids exceeds the hydrochloric acid and pepsin present in an organic stomach) that is non-corrosive to internal components due to reactive smart hydrogel linings. This acid bath breaks down everything: from your home cooked dinner, to food past its expiration, to actual garbage- designed to adapt to a full range of ingested toxicity. After processing, the liquified matter proceeds to a secondary chamber which is programmed with enzymatic nano filters to separate and neutralize indigestible items versus actual processable materials. *Note that the GastroPro™ is incapable of operating in isolation. The following organic systems are required to be enhanced or replaced:

Esophagus (GastroLine™) is equipped with reinforced smart hydrogel lining to withstand both caustic substances and abrasive matter. Peristaltic actuators move matter regardless of shape or size, while micro-blade emulsifiers begin compacting particularly dense or fibrous materials. Anti-reflux valves prevent acid from backing up.

Liver, Pancreas, Gall Bladder (GastroTox™ Subsystem) further supports the GastroPro™ by processing even rarer or complex toxins, capable of converting them into an array of energy for the body dependent on specific inputs. For example: chemical, electrical, first and second generation biofuel, etc. (Optional but highly recommended)

Intestines & Appendix (GastroTract™) serves as the primary absorption and release unit. Lined with nutrient-binding nanites to extract usable calories, vitamins, minerals, or chemicals. Absorption channels direct these throughout the body via embedded villi structures to the bloodstream and lymphatic system. In users with further modifications, waste may be redirected to a bypass port location of their choosing. The most popular choice being via a urinary tract.

Oral Cavity (OraPro™ Subsystem) is a customizable sum of parts that further supports the GastroPro™ with an artificial tongue embedded with gustatory receptors, reinforced cheek/gum lining, and teeth strong as chrome. (Optional but highly recommended)

Brain Chemistry (CraveShard™) the neural implant designed to be installed into the cyberdeck to simulate, regulate, or even suppress cravings. (Optional but highly recommended) The user may override urges based on their schedule and preferences, as well as control serotonin and dopamine feedback. The implant works harmoniously with receptors built into the GastroPro™ to recognize the identity of consumed materials. It can even reproduce the effects caused by ingested alcohol, hallucinogenics, opioids, narcotics, etc.

Advantages over natural digestion include immunity to internal poisoning, pathogens, parasites, and contaminants. Zero indigestion, zero allergic reaction. Accelerated enzyme breakdown. And multi-source nutrition: users can derive sustenance from otherwise indigestible materials.

Please be aware the GastroPro™ is not without its complications. Over-reliance can result in malabsorption issues if the user abuses the capabilities of the GastroPro™. Care should be taken to continuously ingest products with beneficial properties. In the event of nutrient deficits, the user’s deck will receive periodic warnings regarding nutritional supplementation to prevent systemic decline. Psychosomatic disorders may also emerge as a result of losing sensory pleasure of consumption (“digestion dissonance'”- disconnect with satiety) if the recommended OraPro™ Subsystem and CraveShard™ are not installed.

Regular care encompasses monthly detox flushes, filter replacements, nanite reseeding, and pH rebalancing treatments. All of which can be accomplished via a doctor licensed to administer Somatek devices.