#Influencer-Driven Purchases

[seohabibi]

This article explores how social media influencers are reshaping consumer behavior and driving trends in the digital age. It delves into the impact of influencer marketing and the ways in which these online personalities influence buying decisions.

[astrosouldivinity]

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑬𝒚𝒆: ⁺⋆🧿⋆⁺ (𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎)

𝑬𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑬𝒚𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑼𝒔𝒆:

1. 𝑬𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒚-𝑺𝒊𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 (➖)

• Recruiting Allies: They recruit other people to help with undermining you, knowing they can't succeed alone.

• Obsessive Monitoring: They engage in gang-stalking behavior, fixating on you, plotting and praying on your downfall.

• Controlling Behavior: They nitpick and belittle you, trying to manipulate your emotions and provoke reactions.

• One-Sided Relationships: You invest your energy into them, but they offer nothing in return. Essentially, pouring into an empty cup, leaving you drained and feeling entitled to your energy.

• Deteriorating Health: Their influence can manifest in negative effects on your well-being, leading to visible changes such as decreased vitality, increased illness, and persistent brain fog.

2. 𝑬𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 👹

• Gaslighting: They make you question your reality through passive-aggressive tactics, engaging in psychological warfare that is truly diabolical. This involves throwing stones and hiding their hands, creating confusion that drives you to doubt your perceptions and feel like you’re going crazy.

• Isolation: Following a smear campaign, you may find yourself ostracized, leaving you vulnerable and unprotected. This isolation is even more distressing if you don’t fully understand what’s happening.

• Existential Neglect: They act as if you don’t exist, undermining your self-worth and causing you to doubt yourself. This behavior pushes you to seek their validation, aiming to disconnect you from your true self.

3. 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖 🪢

• Commitment to Misunderstanding: They are dedicated to misinterpreting you, and people who dislike you will always find faults, fueled by a relentless desire to undermine you.

• Projection: They impose their limiting perceptions on you, trying to box you into a version they can control.

• Stagnation: They resist your growth, attempting to keep you in a state where they had the most control over you, and project their own lack of evolution onto you.

4. 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 🪬

1. Wear Protective Crystals: Utilize stones such as black tourmaline, obsidian, and smoky quartz. Wear evil eye jewelry, and incorporate protective practices like spell jars, mantras, and visualization techniques.

• I create evil eye-themed jewelry, crystal jewelry, and spell jars, which will be available for purchase soon. 💟

• 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝙹𝚊𝚛𝚜 🌱🫙

2. Pray for Protection: If necessary, consider return-to-sender or freeze spells. However, these are most effective when you know the source of the negativity. Identifying the evil eye source can be challenging, especially in omnipresent situations.

• 𝚁𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛/𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕

3. Practice Energetic Detachment: Employ the "grey rock" method—remain unresponsive and stoic. By becoming an emotionless force, you deprive them of the energy they seek to access.

4. Embrace Your Inner Power: Recognize that they are sending negative energy towards you. Channel that energy back to them, transmuting it into your own strength. Remember, these individuals are ultimately weak; their attempts to bring you down are driven by a desire to feel powerful and in control.

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 1

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2

𝚃𝚒𝚙 𝙹𝚊𝚛 🫙🙏🏿

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝: @𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 🖤

*✧🧿 *✧･ﾟ🧿✧･ﾟ🧿 *✧･ﾟ🧿✧･ﾟ🧿 *✧･ﾟ🧿✧*

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚎𝚢𝚎. 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎; 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚢. 😓

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 4

Read Ding here | ~4.7k words

Warnings: angst, fluff

From me: Sorry for the delay. Honestly, might be for the best. I know this is a little shorter but I think it will help spread out some of the plot points I have planned for parts 5 and part 6. I think it might be a little rush but I promise hope it will be worth it.

Summary: Cupcake wants a proper date. Harry wants a Cupcake for dessert.

Harry was fresh out of college when he took out a loan and bought the gym. It was a steal, an investment, and exactly what he wanted to do. He didn’t have a lot of staff—in fact, Harry taught a lot of classes, cleaned the showers and toilets as much as possible. He got Niall and Louis to help as well. Once he was settled a little more, he got his college roommate, Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah to help as well. His own little family. Niall managed it most of the time and while he still liked to teach classes and train with Louis, he hired a few more staff members (and honestly? Even though he hired a few custodians, he didn’t mind cleaning the bathroom every now and again). His family was his life and he tried to maintain a proper balance which required a certain number of employees.

But adding in the sweet girl that dinged his car threw him for a bit of a loop. A good loop.

Louis was insistent he focus more on his training. Any time not spent teaching classes or going over the paperwork in his office was spent training for his big fight. He was going to be boxing a guy from a few towns over; someone also undefeated. It was being publicized as their own state’s match of the century. Harry didn’t care truthfully about it. He just wanted to remain undefeated. Harry was competitive and he would rather never box again than lose his undefeated record. The added bonus of Driven getting more publicity wasn’t a bad part of the deal either.

Truthfully, the part where he might win $100,000 was also a bigger influence on him than he was willing to let on. The fame of the fight had sponsors and publicity, and more good stuff for him than he wanted to believe he could have.

Harry wanted to give his niece a substantial chunk of money to kickstart her college fund. But even still, he would have plenty to give her and then he would consider, finally, purchasing a house—which seemed silly because he nearly lived at Driven and if he wasn’t at Driven, he was at his mum’s...or Gemma’s with the baby.

But that pretty girl with an apron and sprinkles had him thinking about all kinds of future things. Like a house with a fence. A garden that they could have picnics in during the summer with a dog that needed to be walked two times a day but didn’t mind lounging with them among the flowers while they read. A massive kitchen where she would bake cupcakes for their little ones when they had birthday parties and—

No, he just wanted to win.

Maybe if he had lost at some point in his career he would have felt differently. But the “0” in the loss column made him cocky. He was good, and he knew it. Harry was smiling at his phone, a picture of his sweet niece smiling for the camera while he went over the bills for the current month. There was a knock right outside his office.

“Hey,” Niall smirked. “Your class is about to begin.” Harry was dreading it. They had chatted a lot more and gotten a lot closer than they previously were, but the class made him irrationally angry. Maybe it was the space and just knowing why she was there, that had him so grumpy. “Thought you would want to see her,” Niall murmured when he didn’t respond and also looked like someone pissed in his cereal.

He sighed, putting the bills into a folder for later. He thought about taking them home and dealing with them while he watched a show before bed. Since he’d been teaching her self-defense moves, he found himself riled and angrier than normal—especially after her class. It made it difficult to focus on bills and his calendar when she was there feeling unsafe. “Course I want t’see her,” he mumbled.

Harry stepped out of his office and headed to the room with Louis. She and Louis stood close together speaking quietly, like two old friends. She was smiling brightly, looking adorable as ever. Her T-shirt was bright blue. It said A Pinch of Sprinkles across the back and was littered with sprinkles like rain over the design. Louis caught Harry’s eye and then tilted his head toward him. She turned to face him. It was like a reflex and her smile was so bright, Harry couldn’t help but feel better than he did when Niall alerted him about the class. He felt all the anxiety and frustration leave his body and he headed over to her.

“Hey, Cupcake,” he put a hand on her arm gently giving it a friendly squeeze. “How was your day?” He asked.

She smiled in return. “Good, relaxing. I went to visit my dad.”

He thought so. He may or may not have spent his lunch hour being creepy and noted that her car wasn’t in the parking lot near A Pinch of Sprinkles. Nor was it there when he drove by in the morning on his way to the gym...and if he ran his four-mile cardio workout outside rather than on the treadmill to see her car still wasn’t there right around the four o’clock shift change then who would really know?

“S’nice,” he smiled. “How is he?” He asked.

She hesitated ever so slightly that if Harry wasn’t so focused on her, he might not have noticed. But before he could ask more about it, she simply nodded. “Good,” she offered. Harry needed to remember to circle back to that when they were alone. He wanted to know more about her family and why she seemed so guarded at times.

Which reminded him of what he really wanted to talk to her about. “Hey, Cupcake, would you want to—”

“Alright, let’s get started everybody!”

Harry was looking forward to “accidentally” punching Louis tomorrow during his training session. He sighed. “Stay a minute after class?” Harry asked and headed toward the front of the room.

“Since this is the second to last class, we always offer to have a bit of a celebratory send off the final class if you are interested,” Louis said knowingly. Harry was looking at the floor, then picked the lint off his pants. The grumpiness he felt with Niall returned rapidly. There seemed to be a long pause while the group decided if they wanted to celebrate next week. “Oh, thank God, love,” Louis sighed causing everyone to laugh. “You don’t want Harry or I baking for the masses.”

“I can make cupcakes,” she promised with a giggle.

Harry looked up realizing she was offering her kindness to a bunch of strangers, bonded through their own traumas and the need to feel empowered because of it. His lips curled into a smile. Even though he was still a bit frustrated. It was kind of her to offer. He wasn’t surprised. Someone that worked with sugar that much had to be sweet.

“Can you make the chocolate chip ones?” Someone asked.

“The blueberry lemon ones are my favorite, it’s a shame they’re a summer flavor.”

“I can...” she laughed lightly, and Harry felt so warmed by the sound; all the frustration he felt melting off him. “I can make a list before we leave.”

Harry truly thought there was no one sweeter.

It killed him she was in this class learning to protect herself. Especially now that he knew why. But as mad as it made him, he was so happy to see her. Having her in the class was just more time he got to look at her and note how beautiful she was. Her strength, her resilience, all these qualities he instantly admired as he got to know her more and more. That first night where she dented Clay seemed like ages ago, not months. He was wound around her finger, and he didn’t care.

They went through the moves they learned the weeks prior and discussed more scenarios. Harry had Louis help her more when she needed it. Frankly, it was too hard for him to do it without getting irrationally angry. “You want t’make sure you’re continuing t’practice these moves even after the lessons end,” Harry told the group as their time was ending for the night.

“So, we should be fighting our significant others over the dishes?” Someone called from the back of the room. It caused everyone to laugh once more, and Harry chuckled.

“No, not what I would suggest,” he snickered and even though there were at least fifteen other people in the room, Harry could pick out her giggle among everyone else’s.

“We’ve discussed a lot of reflexive moves and how a lot of the fight back instincts that take over don’t always help you get away,” Louis continued. Harry’s face returned to its neutral position. Although if she was asked, it was one of the sourest expressions she saw on him. But she was intently listening to Louis repeat the spiel once more. “Remember that’s your goal: to get away and find help as quickly as you can and as safely as you can.”

Harry didn’t dare look at her.

*

She stood next to Sarah’s desk taking down orders for their celebration the next week. It was a long list. Harry wasn’t a baker nor the owner of a bakery, but he knew that if they came to her store, it would have cost a pretty penny to sell all that was listed on her slip of paper.

“I can pay for it,” Harry offered coming to stand in front of her.

“Oh God, no. Don’t you dare,” she smiled and shook her head. “You’ve made all of us feel so safe and so empowered. It’s the least I can do—besides, it’s almost blueberry lemon season so I need to practice anyway,” her shrug was casual as she crossed out different parts of her list and added tallies to the other parts. “Maeve and I can handle it. I usually end up giving the leftovers to a homeless shelter anyway, or the nearby nursing home.”

Harry wondered if she was magic. Made of flour and sugar herself that was dipped into all her treats at that bakery and decorated with a pinch of sprinkles. There was simply no one as sweet as her. He was certain.

She watched as Harry’s eyes softened around the edges as she spoke. It felt warm and nice to look at Harry so intensely. He was so handsome and so kind to her. No one had made her feel so safe in ages. Not even Louis who propped her hands and feet into their proper positions and told her how to execute a stomp to someone’s instep.

“Cupcake, do you want to—”

“I’m sorry, Harry, one second,” she held her hand up toward him and turned her attention to a girl from their class. “Did you say Jack?” She asked.

Harry tilted his head curiously but watched as the recognition on the girl’s face blinked in surprise. “Uh...yeah?” She held her phone out to show a picture. Harry watched as her whole body stiffened and she glanced away. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Look, I don’t want to prevent you from having a nice time, but he tried to force me back to his place. I would feel horribly guilty if I didn’t tell you. Maybe it was just a me thing. But I think I would like to know ahead of time. He’s why I’m here, taking lessons,” she looked at her pleadingly. “One girl to another,” she offered. “That’s all I want to say. I’ll mind my business now.”

The girl looked back and forth at her then the phone curiously. Her friend was silent.

Harry was shaking again. His hands clenched into fists. He saw the picture of him. He tried to place him in her bakery the other day and couldn’t identify where he was. Harry stalked off toward the back room without another word to her or the other ladies.

His focus was on making his way for the punching bag as quickly as he could to release the stress and anger he felt. He didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation, nor did he want to. He hoped that girl took her advice and didn’t go out with him. It would serve that sorry excuse for a man right, and of course, most importantly, keep her safe. Harry would lose his mind if he found out he hurt someone else the way he hurt his sweet sprinkle girl.

His breath was a series of uneven pants. Not the regulated breathing he practiced while he trained with Louis. His emotions and frustrations clouded his head taking over instinctively. When he finally ran out of breath with one final punch he stopped, held the punching bag, and rested his forehead against it trying to relax his breathing.

Softly, she cleared her throat. Harry blinked, his eyes opened and turned to the sound. “Sorry,” she whispered. He steadied the swaying bag and looked at her, his eyes intense and as focused on her as ever. “I know you...” she sighed. “I had to tell her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

She paused awkwardly standing in the doorway. “I’m okay,” she offered. “Actually... I’ve learned at least five ways to incapacitate you to get to the front and tell Sarah to call 911,” she smiled weakly hoping it would make him smile.

It didn’t.

Biting the inside of her lip, she felt a wave of anxiety come over her. He was too mad right now. She should have just left. “Do you want the raspberry filled?” He continued to stare at her. Unspeaking, unmoving. Her heart felt sad that he didn’t want to talk to her any longer. “Um... okay... I guess... I’ll see you around, then, Harry.”

It felt like he was holding his breath until that moment and then released it as if all the air in his lungs had been there since the day, he met her and whooshed out of him for a good thirty seconds. “Cupcake,” he murmured running a hand over his face. She turned back, stood far away from him as she could without being in the other room. “I’ve been trying t’ask you on a date all night—well, for days really. And... s’jus’ not the right time—never the right time. We keep getting pulled into other conversations. Or training or your timers for cookies. Then m’mad or m’tired or—”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry stopped speaking. This time he thought he had stopped breathing altogether. “Yes, what?” He asked.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she answered. Her cheeks were pink—he could see how flushed she was by the concept.

“You would?”

“I’m glad you’ve been doing the repeating lately,” she smiled.

“Are you sure, Cupcake?” He ignored her joke. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; and I know I’ve been a lot... Plus your last—”

She closed the space between the two of them and pressed her lips to his cheek. He tasted like salt from the sweat that poured over him throughout the day. He was in desperate need of a shower. “I would really like to go out with you, Harry,” she repeated softly. “Whenever you want.”

Harry swore his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I would really like that,” she promised. Harry sighed with relief.

“Tomorrow? I’d like to take you t’dinner,” he offered.

She nodded. “I would also like that,” it was the happiest she ever felt in her whole life.

The guilt of it was overwhelming.

“Good night, kitten,” he cooed softly.

“Night, Harry,” she headed for the door again. Harry watched, smiling after her as she turned in the doorway. She leaned against it, her hand pressed to the frame, and she tilted her head against it. “You’re going to kiss me, right? After our proper date?”

Her smile was so pretty, Harry felt light-headed. “I hope so, Cupcake.”

*

Harry did kiss her.

In fact, he kissed her so much they didn’t even have dinner at the restaurant. He could hardly stand how pretty she looked he couldn’t leave her doorway when she opened it. She had spent the better part of an hour fixing her hair into a perfect style rather than the stringy, rainy mess he saw the day he met her. Or the way her hair was almost always up and out of her face to deal with baked goods. She put on extra makeup too. She felt beautiful—but Harry’s reaction made her feel... gorgeous.

He put a hand over his heart and smiled, stepping back a pace to take in how beautiful she looked. She laughed at his dramatics. “Wow,” he tapped his hand over his heart. “I thought y’were beautiful with the apron and sprinkles.” She laughed; her pretty cheeks turned pink. He put his hand against the top of the doorframe and leaned in toward her.  “M’not going t’make it through dinner, Cupcake,” he shook his head. “Can I kiss you now?” His eyes were soft.

“Now?” She whispered back.

He nodded his eyes focused on her lips. “Repeating again?”

“What about dinner?”

“I’ll take y’after.”

Honestly, she didn’t think there would be an after if they didn’t go now. Harry looked unbelievably good. He wore a pair of dress pants and she had only ever seen him in sweats and shorts. Those did things to her heart that she didn’t know the dress pants would do. His button down was tucked into his pants, and he looked like he was ready for an interview. He was so handsome.

“I’m pretty hungry now,” she told him, her eyes dancing flirtatiously.

“Me too,” he answered and leaned closer. His forehead rested against hers. She could feel the exhale of his breath against her skin. “May I kiss you, Cupcake?” He asked. She nodded breathlessly. He shook his head. Rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. “You have t’say it, kitten,” he encouraged softly. “M’not messing around with this,” he assured her. “I’ll give y’anything y’want, but y’have t’say it,” his voice was so gravelly and low she felt it in every inch of her nervous system. She shivered involuntarily and nodded again.

“Please kiss me,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her.

But he did hear her. Harry would give her anything she wanted so he pressed his mouth over hers, and it felt like he was supposed to kiss her. The way her lips felt against his, the exhale of her breath against his skin. It all felt so perfect. His hands rested on her hips, and he tugged her closer to him, so she pressed snuggly against his body. Her hands came up to the sides of his neck, her fingertips curling to the back of his head and sliding into his hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” she whispered when they broke apart for air. Harry chuckled and kissed her again, his lips slotting between hers and he brought an arm around her back leaning toward her, so she tilted back just so slightly. “Can we go inside?” She whispered.

“Do you want me inside?” He asked against her lips.

She nodded quickly. “Very much.” Harry didn’t break from her lips to push her inside the doorway. She slipped out of her shoes; shoes Harry didn’t even get to look at because he was so distracted by how much he wanted to kiss her he couldn’t take in the rest of her and how pretty she looked. He took a moment now to note her dress, all black with some buttons and a tie sinched around her waist. It fell to just below her knee but left room through the slit for him to see part of her thigh.

She was stunning.

“God, Cupcake, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured went back to kissing her. His hands roamed over her waist making her insides turn to mush wherever he touched her. She shivered again letting her tongue run over his lower lip as he kissed her. He groaned into her mouth. Her hands held onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to her. She could feel the way their kiss was affecting him. It made her want more to feel his arousal.

“Can I...?” She swallowed pulling from his lips and her hand started for the front of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he croaked.

“I...” she looked at him nervously. He made consent sound so sexy but she felt stupid for asking.

“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Whatever y’want, Cupcake, m’all yours.”

For whatever reason she thought of Niall saying how Harry was whipped for her when they hardly knew each other. He called Harry her boyfriend and now she wanted to take his belt off and rip his pants off.

Was it too fast? She didn’t let Jack take her home and she knew him about as much as she knew Harry at the time. Was she overreacting? How could he ruin this moment even though...? How come—

“Cupcake?” Harry asked quickly. “Y’okay there, sweetheart?” He asked softly. She blinked in surprise, realizing she spaced out as her thoughts reeled. Harry was holding her face gently. “D’you want to stop?” His pants were unzipped and unbuttoned—she didn’t even realize she had done that. Her fingers tucked into his beltloops once more, ready to pull them down further. The Calvin Klein band poked out from his shirt and the shift of his pants falling lower on his hips. Harry was staring at her nervously. Her gaze was blank as she looked back at him; as if she was unsure of her own actions. “Kitten?” he repeated and removed his hands from her face. He tugged her fingers loose of his loops. “Can y’talk t’me please?” He asked, separating them a bit more. He pulled his pants back up, zipped and buttoned them. “You’re making me nervous, Cupcake...” he trailed off eyeing her uncertainly.

Her heart felt sad for him. He was so gentle, so nice, so careful. He steered her to the couch, putting space between the two of them. The only part of him that touched her was his knee bumping into hers. “Sorry,” she whispered, finally.

Relief rushed through him at the sound of her voice. “There’s nothing t’apologize for, Cupcake,” he promised reassuringly.

“But you’re—” Her eyes looked at the bulge against the zipper of his pants. He shrugged.

“S’not important.”

She disagreed strongly. That bulge nearly made her mouth water but as much as she needed her brain to focus on it, her mind had other ideas. “I just... need a minute,” she leaned back against the sofa and sighed. She stared at the ceiling, her hands covering her face. Harry was hot. He was so kind. His lips tasted like sunflower oil—perhaps it was his chapstick. He smelled so good and looked so good. It was unfair that someone from nearly a month ago could continue to ruin her date.

“You can have all the time in the world, Cupcake,” he continued to assure her so soothingly, it made her heart melt. “Did I do something—”

“No,” she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t do anything,” she promised.

He sighed with relief and leaned back beside her and smiled. “Good,” he draped an arm along behind her head across the back of the couch and kissed her temple. “Take your time, Cupcake. M’not going anywhere.”

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat trying to break her esophagus open wide. “He ruined it,” she whispered.

“Ruined what, sweetheart?” Harry’s voice was so soft. Like the way it felt to snuggle in bed on Christmas Eve when she was little. It was so comforting. It made her feel safe. She sniffled and turned her face away from where Harry was.

“Our first date.”

“No, he didn’t,” his voice was still soft, but the tone was firm. He was certain when she very much wasn’t.

“But I want to—”

“I know, Cupcake.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Do I want t’have sex with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met before we go to dinner?” He asked bluntly. “No, sounds like a terrible waste of m’time.”

She blushed, closed her eyes; still turned away from him. “I don’t know who this most ‘beautiful woman’ is you’re talking about. I just see a snively baby.”

He snorted. Gently he coaxed her to turn her around and look at him again. His expression was still gentle, and she was sure he wanted to be mad. She wondered what kind of self-control that took. Maybe it was the Oxytocin covering for him.

“Show me,” he murmured.

“Show you?” She repeated.

Harry smiled. “Practice.”

“Practice what—oh. Oh,” she looked at him in confusion. “You want me to practice my self-defense moves?”

“I like when y’repeat me,” his eyes were warm, smiley on their own.

“I’m wearing a dress.”

“Look, I could say m’dying t’know what’s under your dress if that will make y’feel better.”

“Harry!”

He pushed off the sofa and moved the coffee table toward the side of the room. He grabbed her hands pulling her up, so she was standing in front of him.

“Well, t’be really honest, Cupcake. You’re not going t’have much say in the matter of what you’re wearing if y’need t’use the moves,” he reminded her gently, he cupped the side of her face and looked into her eyes as if his life depended on it. She gulped in response. He was so intense. It made her forget every one of the moves she was supposed to practice. “C’mon, it’ll make you feel better...and me, honestly.”

“You?” She questioned.

He didn’t even comment that she repeated him. “Want t’know you’re safe, Cupcake,” he skimmed his thumb along her cheek. “Always.” She grabbed his hand against her cheek and smiled at him.

Then swiftly she pulled his arm behind his back and twisted it up. He chuckled peering at her over his shoulder. “Good. Again.”

*

After a while of practicing her moves, Harry ordered pizza. He took his jacket off and described a series of moves she could try that she hadn’t learned in the class. She took them seriously; the little pucker of her brow made her so adorable—Harry wanted to kiss her.

“Let me make brownies,” she offered heading to the kitchen and mixed the ingredients within minutes of opening her cabinets. It took maybe ten minutes and soon her place smelled like brownies. Once the pizza was delivered, she pulled out seltzers that Maeve left behind after a girls’ night in. She put on a reality show about baking that she watched two years ago when she was sick with the flu. “The cake challenge is my favorite part,” she told him.

Harry had his arm around her, her body slumped into his embrace, and she snuggled deeply against him. He was so happy to be curled up on the couch with her. It was like they had watched TV together for their whole lives. Had been spending date nights in for twenty years. It made him unbelievably at ease.

Eventually, without realizing, they fell asleep on the sofa. Harry woke up with a slight strain in his neck that he was certain Louis would be pissed about, but the sight of her sleeping beside him made him smile. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. “Are you kidnapping me?” She yawned.

He chuckled, kissed her temple. “No, Cupcake. Putting you on the bed. Want you t’be comfortable. I’ll go back on the sofa.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” She pouted.

He chuckled. “I do,” he promised. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

She nodded. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

She shook her head. “Do you want to stay here?”

“Always, Cupcake. Always.”

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[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 4

As the weeks wore on, Lando and Amelia found themselves navigating a precarious game of cat and mouse, their every move shadowed by the looming threat of exposure. Despite the setbacks, they managed to orchestrate several successful shipments to various parts of the world, each one a testament to their resilience and resourcefulness. From the bustling streets of Paris to the neon-lit alleys of Tokyo and the sun-drenched beaches of Rio de Janeiro, they navigated the intricate web of international logistics with skill and precision.

But as the shipments continued, so too did the speculations between Lando and Amelia, casting suspicion on everyone from trusted allies to low-level associates. With each passing day, the sense of paranoia grew, fueled by the nagging fear that someone within their ranks was working against them.

In the absence of concrete evidence, they could only wait and watch, their nerves stretched taut with anticipation for the inevitable confrontation with George and his father, Steve. They knew that it was only a matter of time before the Russells reappeared, armed with questions and demands for answers.

Steve was unrelenting in his pursuit for answers. George's conflicted loyalties became increasingly apparent as the tension escalated. He found himself caught between his father's ruthless demands and a lingering sense of compassion for Amelia, a girl he once cared deeply for. He pleaded with his father to spare her harm, emphasising the need for restraint, but his appeals fell on deaf ears. The elder Russell remained resolute, driven by a relentless pursuit of answers, regardless of the methods employed.

In the pursuit of those answers, the Steve saw instilling fear in the young Rossi as a perfect means to an end. The calculated decision to create a climate of intimidation was intended to extract the information they sought. In George's mind, this heavy-handed approach seemed unnecessary, but he had little influence over the methods his father deemed fit for the situation.

The tension reached a boiling point when an unexpected intrusion disrupted Amelia's ordinary night at the car dealership. As she diligently worked at her desk, finalising purchase paperwork, a mysterious figure slipped into the shadows, wielding a gun. He stalked her as he made his way up the staircase to her office. The sudden appearance of danger shattered the illusion of Amelia's once seemingly idyllic life. The threat materialised from the dangerous undercurrents of her business dealings, casting a dark shadow over her personal space.

In the harrowing moments that followed, Amelia faced a stark realisation – the vulnerabilities that came with her involvement in the less-than-clean aspects of business had breached the sanctity of her private world. The once distant dangers of the underworld had materialised at her doorstep, leaving her to confront the consequences of her choices and the menacing presence that now lurked in the shadows of her seemingly secure life.

Amelia swiftly recognized the orchestrator behind the menace—Russell, and by association, George. Driven by a toxic blend of jealousy and a warped sense of rivalry, they had crossed a line that Amelia could not dismiss or forgive.

The bitter irony lay in George's role, someone who had once pleaded for leniency and attempted to protect Amelia from the ominous reach of his family. However, his own history of betrayal and a pattern of undermining friendships, including those with Lando and Amelia, had now come full circle. The loyalty he had hoped to foster had eroded, replaced by a perilous alliance with his ruthless family.

For Amelia, this was more than an isolated incident; it was a pivotal moment that shattered the facade of normalcy. The underworld, a realm her father had sought to shield her from, now unfolded at her doorstep, and she found herself at the centre of the dangerous game by her own volition.

Amelia's heart raced like a drumbeat in her chest, each thud echoing the gravity of the chilling reality before her—an imposing gun pointed unwaveringly at her forehead. The tension in the air was palpable, and despite her training in various martial arts, the starkness of the situation eclipsed anything she had faced before.

The training that once instilled confidence now offered only a fragile shield against the looming threat. Her breaths, normally measured and controlled, came in quick, shallow bursts, as she grappled with the instinctive surge of fear. In the dimly lit confines of her dealership, the menacing presence of the intruder cast an ominous shadow, and the world seemed to contract to the immediate proximity of the weapon aimed at her.

Drawing upon every ounce of her strength, Amelia fought to steady herself, her mind racing as she attempted to approach the perilous scenario with a facade of calm reasoning. The pulsating seconds felt like an eternity, each one magnifying the weight of the gun and the precariousness of her position.

In the face of imminent danger, her training became a delicate dance between muscle memory and raw instinct. She focused on the intruder, attempting to decipher the intentions behind the cold, unyielding gaze. The air hung heavy with unspoken threats, and as the seconds stretched, she steeled herself for the unfolding confrontation.

The assailant's demand cut through the air like a sharp blade, his words resonating with ominous intent—he sought information about her business dealings with Norris. Amelia, despite the palpable fear coursing through her veins, summoned a steely resolve and met the demand with a measured composure.

With unwavering determination, she firmly denied any involvement in fraudulent activities, each word spoken with deliberate clarity. In the face of the menacing weapon trained on her, Amelia asserted her autonomy, emphasising that her business operated within the bounds of legality. The echoes of her denial reverberated in the dimly lit room, a defiant stand against the threat that loomed before her.

The air became charged with an unspoken intensity, the intruder's gaze a piercing scrutiny that sought to unravel the truth hidden beneath her words. As the minutes stretched into an agonising crawl, Amelia's strategic mind worked swiftly, seizing upon a fleeting opportunity to lower the gunman's guard. In a moment of calculated precision, she initiated a series of manoeuvres, skillfully disarming him with a deftness that belied the urgency of the situation.

The sudden, unexpected struggle erupted through the quiet dealership, the scuffling sounds echoing in the otherwise silent space. Amelia's training in martial arts became a decisive advantage as she defied the odds, turning the tables against the assailant. The struggle played out in a dance of survival, the stakes heightened by the threat that had initially loomed over her.

Amidst the chaos, the sudden commotion escalated, the tension reaching a fever pitch. In the frenzied struggle, a gunshot shattered the silence, its reverberations ricocheting off the walls and distorting the perception of time. The deafening sound momentarily drowned out all other noise, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.

Amelia's heart raced in the aftermath of the gunshot, her senses heightened as she assessed the situation. The abrupt eruption of violence had shifted the delicate balance within the dealership, leaving a lingering tension in the air.

Amelia's body tensed in the aftermath of the gunshot, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins as time seemed to freeze. The once frantic struggle now hung in suspended animation, and the dimly lit dealership became a stage for the unknown. The surreal silence that followed the deafening sound of the gunshot enveloped her, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

In the oppressive stillness, Amelia waited with bated breath, her senses heightened, and her perception attuned to the slightest shift in the air. The harsh echoes of her own laboured breaths reverberated in the quietude, underscoring the gravity of the situation. Panic gripped her, the uncertainty of the unfolding events amplifying the fear that coiled within her.

The profound sense of relief that washed over her was palpable, a wave that momentarily eclipsed the lingering fear. The realisation slowly dawned—she had not been the target of the gunshot. The threat had been redirected, and it was the assailant who now bore the wounds inflicted in the struggle.

Amelia's gaze fixated on the fallen gunman, his laboured breaths a haunting symphony in the aftermath of the struggle. The reality of the situation seeped into her consciousness, and a heavy silence enveloped the dealership. Time, momentarily suspended, resumed its relentless march, yet Amelia remained frozen in place, a silent witness to the unfolding consequences of the violent encounter.

The man, now a mere shadow of the menacing threat he had posed, struggled with the injuries inflicted during the tumultuous struggle. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutal clash that had transpired within the once-quiet confines of the showroom. Amelia, caught in the aftermath, grappled with the weight of the encounter settling heavily on her shoulders.

As the wounded assailant choked on his own blood, the air became charged with an eerie tension, the sounds of his suffering echoing through the space. The dealership, once a sanctuary for luxury vehicles, now bore witness to the stark realities of the dangerous game Amelia had willingly entered. The poignant contrast between the opulence of the surroundings and the brutality of the confrontation lingered, casting a sombre pall over the scene.

As the dealership gradually settled into an eerie calm, the remnants of the recent struggle lingering like ghostly echoes, Amelia took a moment to collect herself. The adrenaline, which had surged through her veins like a tumultuous tide, began to ebb away, leaving in its wake a mix of shock and a subtle undercurrent of accomplishment.

Surveying the aftermath of the violent encounter, she found herself amidst overturned furniture and the tangible residue of the struggle that had unfolded within the walls of her once-secure sanctuary. The normally pristine office space now bore the scars of the confrontation, a stark reminder of the perilous world she had been abruptly thrust into.

“Shit.” She mumbled as she stumbled to switch off all the lights on in her office.

With her heart still pounding and her once-white satin blouse now stained in scarlet, Amelia made her way to her desk, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded in her sanctuary. The stark reminder of the recent struggle clung to her, an indelible mark on the fabric of her existence.

As she reached for her phone, uncertainty gripped her. The weight of the decision loomed over her—should she call her father, the protector who had shielded her from the dangerous undercurrents, or should she call Lando, the ally who understood the shadows of their shared past? In a moment of visceral instinct, she chose the latter, trusting in Lando's unwavering support and the absence of judgement that their history promised.

Pressing the phone to her ear, she waited in breathless anticipation for Lando's voice to resonate through the device. The seconds seemed to stretch, each one echoing with the aftermath of the struggle. In the silence that enveloped her, the phone call became a lifeline, a connection to the one person who could comprehend the complexities of the perilous world she had been thrust into.

The pulsating beat of music and the lively atmosphere of one of Lando's clubs enveloped his surroundings as he answered the call. Amidst the rhythmic sounds and vibrant energy, a voice, laden with urgency, cut through the noise.

“Amelia?” Lando's voice crackled through the phone, momentarily competing with the lively ambiance of the club.

“Lando. I need your help.” She replied, the weight of the recent events evident in her breathless tonemanages to breathe.

“Now’s not the best time.” He informed her, his words navigating the delicate balance between the two worlds—one of immediate revelry and the other, a world in which Amelia grappled with the aftermath of a dangerous encounter.

In the background, the ambient noise of the club continued, underscored by the playful distraction of Zara kissing down his neck—a glimpse into the lavish and carefree surroundings that defined Lando's realm.

“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent.” She emphasised, her voice a stark contrast to the surrounding revelry.

The weight of her statement penetrated through the distractions of the club, prompting Lando to take decisive action. In a swift motion, he pushed Zaral off him, leaving behind the allure of the night's festivities. Rising to his feet, he stepped away from the vibrant chaos, a silent acknowledgment of the urgency embedded in Amelia's call.

“Where are you?” Lando's voice held a sense of urgency as he sought to understand the specifics of Amelia's situation.

“I’m in the dealership. Just make sure you come alone and come around the back.” She informed him, her words laden with a discreet plea for discretion and swift action.

Amelia, far from being a passive victim, emerged from the ordeal with a silent vow etched in her heart. The betrayal she had endured fueled a fierce determination to retaliate. The past bonds that once tethered her to George were now severed, and she understood the gravity of the situation. It was no longer just about self-preservation; it was a commitment to safeguarding those she held dear, a pledge to shield not only herself but also the loyal allies who had stood by her side.

The passage of twenty minutes left the dealership in an eerie stillness, the back door creaking open to admit Lando into the shadowy expanse. The showroom, once a realm of gleaming luxury, now lay shrouded in darkness, the ambient glow of the city's night seeping through the windows.

Lando, attuned to the urgency of the situation, cast a glance upward at Amelia's office on the first floor. The dim light emitted from her phone served as a lone beacon in the otherwise darkened space, guiding him towards the heart of the unfolding drama.

Making his way up the spiral staircase with cautious steps, Lando's senses heightened. The air hung heavy with the aftermath of the struggle, and a palpable tension gripped the surroundings. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, a hushed realisation settled in—there, in the semi-darkness of the office, lay the assailant's feet.

“What the fuck?” The immediate shock and disbelief coloured Lando's voice, echoing through the silent expanse of the building.

“Shut up!” Amelia hissed, her urgency cutting through the tension that hung in the air.Amelia hissed.

“What did you do?” Lando's voice, now lowered but no less intense, sought answers in the darkness.

“I will answer all of your questions, but you need to help me get rid of his body.” Amelia's words carried a weight, a confession that reverberated through the shadows.

“Amelia.” Lando's tone held a mix of concern and incredulity.

“It was either be killed or kill. I had to choose.” She explained, the gravity of her words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

Lando, confronted with the grim reality of the situation, snapped into action. The urgency of the moment prompted him to shed his jacket, rolling up his sleeves with a focused determination. In the silence that hung over the showroom, his mind raced with logistical considerations.

His thoughts turned to the practicalities—they needed a different vehicle. The trunk of his car, by his quick assessment, wouldn't accommodate the task at hand. A calculated and strategic mind, Lando contemplated the intricacies of the situation, considering the weight and gravity of each decision.

“Alright.” He said, his voice steady despite the unfolding chaos. “We'll use another vehicle. We need to act fast, and we need to be discreet.”

Lando dragged the unconscious man by his feet, the chilling reality of the situation sinking in. The dealership, once a pristine display of luxury, now bore witness to the aftermath of a violent struggle, leaving behind a trail of stark evidence.

“Fuck, the blood is everywhere.” Lando muttered under his breath.

As Lando manoeuvred the body onto a rug, his gaze shifted upward, and he found Amelia, the once-composed orchestrator of her business, now completely spaced out. Disgust etched across her face, her eyes fixated on the volume of blood that stained her office floor—a visceral reminder of the choices made in the throes of danger.

“Are you hurt?” Lando's concern cut through the tense air, a reflection of the gravity of the situation.

“No.” Amelia replied, her voice holding a trace of weariness.

“You have blood on your shirt.” Lando observed, his gaze fixated on the stained garment.

“It’s not mine.” She clarified as the weight of her words underscoring the gravity of the struggle she had endured.

“You need to get bleach and a ton of paper towels.” Lando suggested, his mind already racing with plans to address the aftermath.

“I’ll get it.” Amelia responded, her resolve unwavering even in the face of the disconcerting scene in her office.

The logistics of the cleanup became a practical focus, a way to navigate the aftermath of their choices and restore a semblance of order to the chaos that had unfolded within the once-tranquil dealership.

In a matter of moments, Amelia descended the staircase and reappeared, carrying the cleaning supplies needed to address the aftermath of the struggle. The cleansing scent of bleach filled the air as she sprayed it onto the blood-stained tiles, the pungent odour mingling with the lingering tension in the showroom.

Amelia's movements were deliberate and focused, the rhythmic sound of the paper towel wiping away the evidence of the violent encounter. The dim light cast shadows on her determined expression as she worked to erase the physical remnants of the struggle that had disrupted the tranquillity of her office.

“I’ll have my security guys wipe the footage from the CCTV database.” Lando informed her, his tone authoritative and decisive. The practicality of his suggestion was evident—a strategic move to eliminate any traces of the recent events. “And, I’ll have them send some guys down to be here when you’re in the office.”

“That’s not necessary. My father-”

“Your father cannot know a thing. He’ll know that you're busy with shady business. Just say you had a security breach and I offered.” Lando interjected, his voice firm and insistent.

The weight of his words conveyed an understanding of the delicate balance they needed to maintain in the face of a situation that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed facades of their lives.

In the strategic dance of shadows and secrets, Lando's offer became a lifeline—a shield against the prying eyes of those who couldn't be trusted.

“He always liked you.” Amelia acknowledged, a subtle nod to the complexities of her father's affections.

“Precisely.” Lando responded, recognizing the leverage that goodwill might afford them in navigating the intricacies of their clandestine actions. “I’m going to need someone to help us. We can’t do this alone.”

“Just not Max. Or Alex.” Amelia stipulated, expressing a cautious reluctance regarding the choice of allies.

“Don’t worry about it. Just pretend like nothing happened.” He directed with a pragmatic approach to maintaining the illusion of normalcy in the wake of the violent encounter.

“I can’t go home looking like this.” Amelia confessed, her voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and concern.

“You’ll come home with me. We’ll get you cleaned up, get rid of your clothes and get you back home. No one needs to know a thing.” Lando assured her, his tone a blend of reassurance and determination.

“Thank you.” Amelia responded, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the support she found in their shared alliance.

“This is technically my fault.” Lando admitted with a sense of responsibility underlying his words.

“No, it isn't.” Amelia countered, her conviction unwavering.

“This has to be George, no?” Lando pondered, drawing connections between the recent events and their shared history.

‘It can only be him. He was the only one asking questions.” Amelia affirmed, a trace of frustration in her voice.

"You know George, he's only ever happy when he's included in something." Lando observed, a rueful acknowledgment of their former schoolmate's tendencies.

In the dimly lit showroom, Lando wasted no time. With determined efficiency, he rolled the unconscious assailant into the rug, the fabric concealing the evidence of the violent struggle. As he straightened up, he wiped his hands on his jeans, a pragmatic gesture to rid himself of the residual traces of the grim task at hand.

Pulling out his phone, Lando dialled the number of his right-hand man, Jon. The urgency of the situation echoed in the hushed tones of their conversation as Lando briefed him on the need for assistance.

“Jon, I need you to come to the dealership. We've got a situation. We’ll leave everything open at the back for you. Just a clean up and disposal.” Lando spoke, the weight of the words underscoring the gravity of the clandestine operation unfolding within the confines of the dealership.

As Jon's acknowledgement reached Lando's ears, the stage was set for the arrival of assistance—a strategic move to navigate the aftermath and ensure that the shadows of the night kept their secrets hidden from prying eyes.

“Jon will sort out the body and his car. He'll get some people in to give the room a proper clean. You and I need to get out of here. I'll be your alibi if shit hits the fan.” Lando asserted, his words carrying a sense of urgency and commitment.

“Feels like we're back in high school.” Amelia remarked, a wistful note in her voice as she drew parallels between their current predicament and the challenges they faced in their youth.

“Neither of us killed someone in high school.” Lando responded, his tone a mix of pragmatism and reassurance.

"We saw someone get shot and we kept quiet, Lan. That makes us look fucking guilty." Amelia countered, her words laden with the weight of their shared past.

“We weren't out there that night looking for a murder scene.” Lando asserted, drawing a distinction between the events that unfolded in their teenage years and the unforeseen circumstances that now required their discretion.

Flashback

They were just 17 that night. Lando, bold and adventurous, had snuck out with one of his father's Audis to pick up Amelia for a house party. The night took an unexpected turn when they got lost, the dimly lit roads leading them to an abandoned stretch. Eager to regain phone signal, they pulled over, the night air thick with anticipation.

As they sought connectivity, the tranquillity of the night was shattered by screams and yelling, the ominous sounds drawing them in. Their curiosity propelled them forward, and seconds later, they found themselves witnesses to a harrowing scene—a man being shot several times, the violent act searing into their young minds.

The shooter's face remained hidden in the shadows, a faceless perpetrator of a crime witnessed in the dead of night. Lando, quick on his feet even in the face of danger, grabbed Amelia before she could utter a scream, and they sped away from the scene.

In the aftermath of that fateful night, a silent pact emerged. Lando and Amelia, bound by the shared trauma of witnessing a crime, made a promise—an unspoken agreement never to speak about it with each other or anyone else. The weight of that secret forged an unbreakable bond, a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of adolescence and lingered as a shadowy thread woven into the fabric of their friendship.

“This is different.” Lando voiced with a discernible tension in his words as the echoes of their past mingled with the challenges of the present.

“Lando.” She implored, her gaze seeking reassurance from the one person she had turned to in times of both peril and secrecy.

“Remember you called me, Amelia, not the police, not your dad, me. You called me because you know I won’t tell a soul about any of this.” Lando reminded her, his tone carrying the weight of their shared history. The unspoken bond that had endured the trials of teenage secrecy and witnessed the violence of that night now became the anchor in the tumultuous sea of their present predicament.

As Lando and Amelia made their way down the staircase, each step echoing in the quiet showroom, a pregnant pause settled between them. Amelia stopped halfway down the staircase causing Lando to turn back to see where she was.

“If this is your way of reminding me that I make shit decisions, it is not the time.” Amelia retorted, a note of defiance in her voice as the weight of the night pressed upon her.

“You forget that when you agreed to do this, you agreed to get your hands dirty. And, I know you didn't mean to kill that guy. It was an accident and you were defending yourself. So, when I offer to help, just take it and trust me.” Lando explained, his words carrying a mix of understanding and urgency.

“Of course I trust you.” Amelia conceded, a hint of vulnerability in her admission.

“Then start acting like it.” Lando urged, his tone firm but laced with a genuine concern for her well-being.

In the wake of their tense conversation, Amelia followed Lando in the dimly lit showroom and out to the back parking lot to where his sleek McLaren awaited. The low hum of the high-performance engine punctuated the stillness, and as they settled into the car, the interior became a cocoon of shadows and shared secrets.

The engine roared to life, and the McLaren glided out of the parking lot, merging seamlessly into the city's nocturnal symphony. The darkened streets unfolded before them as they embarked on a journey to the Norris family home, a sanctuary where they hoped the shadows of the night could be momentarily left behind.

As the city lights streaked past, the McLaren became a vessel hurtling through the spaces where choices and consequences collided.

“We might need to keep a low profile on exports the next few weeks and wait for the Russells to sink their teeth into someone else's business.” Lando suggested, his voice carrying the weight of strategic thinking in the face of external threats.

“Fucking George and his incessent need to make everyone's lives difficult.” Amelia muttered, frustration evident in her words.

Flashback

In the hazy atmosphere of the party, Amelia and Lando, still reeling from the shock of what they had witnessed that night, arrived seeking refuge in the noise and distraction. However, George, always on the lookout for drama and mischief, was quick to spot their anxious and flustered demeanour.

Seizing the opportunity, George, with a mischievous glint in his eye, began to weave a narrative of his own. He subtly suggested that the two had hooked up during their absence, letting the whispers of the partygoers carry the story further into the crowd. The rumour spread like wildfire, growing more exaggerated with each passing moment.

The consequences of George's manipulation reached unforeseen heights when the school, influenced by the escalating gossip, decided to intervene. Concerned about the well-being of the students, they went so far as to phone Amelia's mother, urging her to discuss family planning with her daughter. The supposed affair between Amelia and Lando had transformed into a spectacle, a testament to the power of whispers and the lengths people would go to spin a tale in the shadows of high school drama.

In the quietude outside the Norris family house, Lando parked the McLaren, the engine's hum subsiding into a gentle purr. Anticipating the need for discretion, he reached back to grab a hoodie, a makeshift cover for Amelia's stained shirt.

As they entered the Norris residence, Flo, one of Lando's younger sisters, zipped past with the carefree energy of youth, barely offering a greeting to Amelia. Lando, recognizing the need for privacy, ushered Amelia upstairs to his bedroom. With a deliberate gesture, he shut the door and locked it, creating a temporary sanctuary where they could navigate the aftermath of the night undisturbed.

“We'll have to burn everything.” Lando stated matter-of-factly, the weight of the recent events hanging in the air.

“Everything?” Amelia queried, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah. Panties too, I'm afraid." Lando confirmed, a touch of humour attempting to lighten the gravity of the situation. The necessity to dispose of all evidence, even the most personal items, underscored the severity of their predicament.

As the gravity of their situation hung in the air, Lando took charge, crossing the room to the fireplace. He skillfully arranged the wood, the flames flickering to life under his deft touch. The warmth emanating from the growing fire cast a gentle glow across the room, creating a play of shadows on the walls.

The crackling flames seemed to dance in rhythm with the uncertainty of the night, their flickering light casting a comforting yet eerie ambiance. As the fire gained strength, its radiant warmth began to fill the room, creating an intimate haven where Lando and Amelia could confront the shadows of the night and embark on the delicate process of erasing the traces of their clandestine actions.

“You're disgusting.” Amelia remarked, her tone a mixture of reproach and weariness.

“Well, you're not exactly the girl I thought I was bringing back home tonight.” Lando retorted, his words carrying a note of frustration and perhaps a tinge of regret.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Amelia responded, a touch of sarcasm underscoring her words.

The room, bathed in the warm glow of the firelight, became a stage for the raw honesty and tension between them—a moment where the repercussions of their choices unfolded

In a silent acknowledgment of the need to erase any trace of the night, Amelia retreated to the bathroom. There, she methodically stripped away the stained clothes, leaving behind the remnants of a tumultuous evening. Wrapping a towel around her body, she returned to the room, a vulnerable silhouette against the warm glow of the fire.

Lando, understanding the gravity of the situation, took her discarded clothes and tossed them into the crackling flames. The fire eagerly consumed the fabric, its hungry tongues licking at the evidence of the night, reducing it to ashes. The room bore witness to this ritual of cleansing, the dance of shadows on the walls telling a silent tale of discretion and consequence.

“Now a shower.” Lando suggested a practical continuation of their efforts to cleanse themselves of the night's events.

Leading Amelia back to the bathroom, Lando started running the shower. A moment of vulnerability hung in the air as Amelia expected him to leave her to her privacy. However, to her surprise, Lando began undressing, leaving him stark naked in front of her.

Amelia, caught off guard, quickly averted her gaze, her breath catching in her throat. The unexpected intimacy in that vulnerable moment accentuated the complexities of their relationship, adding another layer to the shadows that seemed to linger in the spaces between them.

“You have blood in places you can't see so I might as well help you with that.” Lando remarked, his practicality cutting through the awkwardness of the moment.

“If you wanted to shower with me, you could have just asked.” Amelia grumbled, a hint of annoyance in her voice. Memories of a similar situation resurfaced, adding a layer of familiarity to the present. “I vaguely remember you doing this one night after we went out. I was so drunk and covered in alcohol. You showered me that night, dressed me and tucked me in.”

The echoes of the past mingled with the present, creating a sense of déjà vu in the bathroom.

A small smile crept onto Lando's face as the memory of that past night played in his mind. 

Flashback

Amelia sat at her desk, buried under a mountain of textbooks and lecture notes, her mind buzzing with the weight of her upcoming university exams. She had been studying for hours, pouring over endless pages of information, but the words seemed to blur together in a haze of exhaustion and frustration.

With a sigh, she pushed her books aside and rubbed her tired eyes, feeling the stress of her studies weighing heavily on her shoulders. She needed a break, a moment of respite from the relentless pressure of academia.

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, searching for a familiar name amidst the sea of numbers. And then she found it: Lando.

With a sense of relief washing over her, Amelia dialled his number and waited anxiously as the phone rang. And when he answered, his voice was like a lifeline, grounding her in the midst of chaos.

“Lando.” She said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I need you.”

His protective instinct kicked in immediately, his concern evident in his voice as he asked her where she was. And when she told him, he didn't hesitate for a moment.

“I'm on my way.” He said, his tone firm and reassuring. “Just hold tight.”

And true to his word, Lando arrived moments later, his car pulling up to the curb outside the club where Amelia had sought refuge from her studies. With a sense of relief flooding through her, she hurried outside to meet him, grateful for the familiar sight of his reassuring presence.

When she climbed into the car beside him, she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her, knowing that no matter what challenges she faced, Lando would always be there to protect her, to guide her through the darkest of times.

As they drove away from the chaos of the club, the weight of her worries lifting with each passing moment, Amelia couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of her friend.

Stepping into the shower, he extended a helping hand to Amelia, the towel dropping to the floor.

In the intimate space of the shower, the warm water cascaded around them, washing away the physical remnants of the night. The small smile on Lando's face carried with it a mix of nostalgia and genuine care, a reflection of the bond they had forged through the years.

The spacious shower, though offering room to breathe, found Lando and Amelia pressed against each other beneath the hot water. In the closeness of the moment, Lando took a loofah and squirted shower gel onto it, gently scrubbing away the dried blood from Amelia's arms and hands.

“You OK?” Lando inquired, his voice carrying a note of concern.

“I'm still processing.” Amelia admitted, the vulnerability in her words echoing the weight of the night.

“Scared?” Lando asked, his touch and presence offering a sense of reassurance.

“Terrified.” Amelia confessed, her honesty underscoring the gravity of their situation.

“Understandable.” Lando acknowledged; his understanding becoming a silent promise that they would navigate the aftermath of the night together.

As Amelia took over the loofah, the roles reversed in the warm embrace of the shower. The steam-filled air carried a sense of familiarity, a tangible connection that transcended the immediate circumstances. The loofah glided over Lando's tanned skin, the intimate act of washing away the remnants of the night weaving a tapestry of shared history.

It had been a while since they'd been this close, the memory of past intimacy echoing in the quiet moments between them. Recollections of nights filled with solace, where Lando sought refuge after heartbreak, resurfaced. Amelia had offered him comfort and affection, creating a bond that endured beyond the ebb and flow of relationships. Their connection, built on shared vulnerabilities and unspoken support, had weathered the storms of life.

They were never strangers, and the shower became a canvas where the past and the present merged. In the dance of shadows and steam, Lando and Amelia continued to navigate the complexities of their intertwined lives, finding solace in the comfort that only the truest of companions could provide.

“Everything will be fine.” Lando reassured, his words carrying a comforting certainty.

“I know.” Amelia responded, the weight of the night and the shadows they faced momentarily lightened by the shared understanding between them.

Lando, in a tender gesture, pressed a finger to Amelia's chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. In the closeness of the shower, their eyes locked, becoming mirrors reflecting the intimacy they both crave.

“We can't, Lan.” Amelia asserted, a note of restraint in her voice.

“Why not?” Lando questioned, his gaze searching hers for an answer.

“Because you have a girlfriend and I'm seeing someone.” Amelia explained with the weight of their entangled personal lives adding complexity to the moment.

“I don't have a girlfriend.” Lando clarified, challenging the assumption.

“Then what is Zara?” Amelia pressed, her gaze holding firm.

“I didn't realise you and Charles are together now.” Lando countered, revealing another layer of their tangled connections.

“It's just casual for now. No pressure.” Amelia admitted, her tone suggesting a nonchalant approach to her current situation.

“Yeah, that's because he's got another girl in Monaco waiting for him.” Lando remarked, a touch of frustration in his voice.

“Stop it.” Amelia implored, the tensions of their conversation escalating.

“Amelia, seriously, why do you waste your time with these men who offer you nothing? First it was Daniel, now it’s Charles.” Lando questioned, a hint of concern in his words.

“The sex is great. What more could a girl want?” Amelia retorted, her response laced with a mix of defiance and humour, attempting to diffuse the underlying tension.

The exchange revealed the intricacies of their personal lives, the complexities that had always lingered beneath the surface of their friendship. Feeling flustered by the intense conversation in the shower, Amelia stepped out into the cool air, the droplets from the shower clinging to her skin. The exchange had laid bare the complexities and unspoken tensions that existed between her and Lando, their words echoing in the silence of the bathroom. As she wrapped a towel around herself, the lingering steam seemed to magnify the uncertainties that hovered between them.

“What about love?” Lando questioned, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Lando, I appreciate the concern, but I don't question who you date.” Amelia responded, her tone attempting to maintain a sense of detachment.

“Well, for your information, Zara isn't my girlfriend.” Lando clarified, seeking to dispel any misconceptions.

“So, she's just met your family for fun then.” Amelia retorted, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

“Amelia Rossi, are you jealous?” Lando teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Fuck off, Norris.” Amelia snapped, her response revealing a mix of frustration and defensiveness.

Quickly drying herself off, Amelia made her way into Lando's room, searching for a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Lando followed behind her, the atmosphere carrying the lingering tension from their earlier conversation in the shower.

“Do you remember what happened that night?” Lando inquired, the memories of a pivotal evening resurfacing in the quiet space of his room. “When the shooting happened.”

“We went to the party like we planned and George told everyone we hooked up.” Amelia recounted, the events of that night etched in her memory.

“What happened after that?’ Lando prompted, seeking to revisit the moments that had shaped their relationship.

“We drove home early from the party and I stayed over.” Amelia replied, the details unfolding.

“You're forgetting the part where you could barely speak for hours after and refused to leave my side.” Lando added with a touch of sincerity in his voice.

“Do you blame me?” Amelia questioned, the vulnerability in her words hinting at the impact of that night on her.

“Just don't go all silent on me again. Tell me if something is bothering you or if you want to end the deal before things get worse.” Lando implored, the weight of unspoken concerns lingering in the air.

“The deal sticks. Now, are you driving me home or should I call for a driver?” Amelia shifted the focus, steering the conversation toward the practicalities of the present.

“I'll drive you back.” Lando agreed, a silent understanding passing between them.

As Amelia locked herself in her room, the weight of the night's events bore down on her. Alone in the quiet confines, she spent the whole night reliving the harrowing moments of the shooting in her office. The memories, vivid and haunting, replayed like a relentless film, each frame etching the fear and uncertainty of that critical juncture.

This ritual, revisiting the scenes in her mind, was not unfamiliar to her. Years ago, she had engaged in a similar process, attempting to etch faces and features into her memory. It was a desperate attempt to make sense of the chaos, to understand the shadows that lurked within the corridors of her own life.

In the solitary hours of the night, as she grappled with the echoes of gunshots and the weight of her choices, Amelia navigated the complex tapestry of her past. The walls of her room became a sanctuary for introspection, a space where the shadows of her memories danced in the darkness, revealing the intricate threads that wove together the fabric of her existence.

[demifiendrsa]

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed | Release Date Reveal | Collector’s Edition Trailer

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC via Steam on September 24, 2024 for $59.99 / £49.99 / €59.99.

Digital pre-orders are available now and include 24 hours of early access to the game on September 23, as well as the downloadable content “Costume Pack,” which features “Steamboat Willie, “Brave Little Tailor,” and “Football” costumes for Mickey Mouse. The “Costume Pack” can also be purchased separately for $4.99.

About

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed brings the magic of Disney to life in a vibrant 3D platformer. This beautiful remake sends Mickey Mouse on an epic journey through Wasteland, a realm of forgotten Disney characters. As Mickey, you will dive into a fantastical world and, armed with paint and thinner, shape your adventure and the fate of this alternate world.

Every stroke of your magic brush matters! Use paint to restore beauty and harmony or thinner to alter your environment and uncover hidden secrets. Your choices influence Mickey’s destiny and change the outcome of this artistic odyssey. Will you become the epic hero Wasteland needs?

Encounter various iconic characters like Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Walt Disney’s first creation, as you travel between lands in Wasteland. Collect virtual Disney pins, tackle creative challenges, and uncover secrets, all while exploring classic platforming levels inspired by animated films and shorts.

Originally envisioned by Warren Spector, reimagined by Purple Lamp, Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed employs state-of-the-art visuals and improved controls to breathe new life into a beloved classic. Experience new movement skills for Mickey, such as dash, ground pound and sprinting. The game’s compelling story makes it an unforgettable adventure for long-time fans and newcomers alike. Join Mickey Mouse and unravel the mysteries of Wasteland in this homage to Disney’s legacy.

Key Features

Explore a reimagined Wasteland, full of Disney’s timeless characters and stories.

Wield the magic brush: Paint to create, thinner to alter. Every choice shapes your story.

Meet Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Disney’s original star, in a rich, narrative-driven world.

Enjoy advanced gameplay with new abilities and enhanced visuals in a classic setting.

Mickey has new moves such as dash, ground pound and sprinting.

High replayability with multiple endings based on your unique playstyle and decisions.

[citieskyes]

Placements in the house series

Pt 2

Sun in the 2nd can indicate much of your identity closely relates to your financial stability. Money plays a significant role in your life and as a result, you can be financially driven. This placement can indicate having a strong sense of self-worth. This can also indicate starting your own business.

Moon in 2nd finds emotional comfort from material things. They might be stingy with their money. When depressed, they enjoy making purchases and buying things as it brings them joy. Your emotional well being may depend on your financial situation.

Mercury in 2nd are suave when it comes to dealing with financial matters. They can be very smart with their money. You may use your intelligence to deal with business related matters. You may also be very direct and straightforward.

Venus in the 2nd brings luck to the individuals finances. You might be seen as shallow and materialistic, but above all you value stability. This placement can indicate interest in working in a careers related to beauty or aesthetics. Your partners may like to spoil you by buying you things. Alternatively, you may marry rich!

Mars in 2nd may be very ambitious when it comes to money related issues. This placement can indicate a strong work ethic and you like to take charge of things. You may radiate leadership energy and others look up to you. However you may be impulsive with spending money as Mars is a reckless planet.

Saturn in the 2nd may face limitations with their finances. You may have grown up financially disadvantaged. As a result, you may be stingy with your money or you don’t know how to manage your finances. You may feel guilty when purchasing things. One of your biggest fears is poverty. Your lesson is to learn what is your true value outside of finances.

Jupiter in the 2nd may indicate finding luck in financial affairs. You may acquire money easier than others. Money finds its way back to you. As Jupiter is a planet of expansion, you may have an eye for aesthetic and thus you’re prone to being a overspender. Due to Jupiter’s influence, financial opportunities come your way easily. You may have the ability to make money out of anything, meaning you’re destined for a luxurious and wealthy life. Jupiter in the second means that you have a lot of self-confidence as the 2nd house also governs our sense of self-worth.

Pluto in the 2nd can indicate that much of your power comes from your resources and finances. You may get good opportunities when it comes to making money. You may come off as stingy as you have a deep fear of poverty. This placement can indicate transformation with your sense of values and this can lead to a deeper understanding of yourself.

I do $15-20 birth chart readings so message me if you want yours done x

[mariacallous]

Ten years ago, a flood of gamers attacked developers Zoë Quinn and Brianna Wu and media critic Anita Sarkeesian. The three were part of a growing chorus of people calling for a more inclusive culture within video games. The attackers doxxed and harassed their targets, doing all they could to stifle the women’s efforts. The incident, which became known as Gamergate, illuminated the toxicity women faced in gaming spaces and beyond.

Eventually, the harassment faded from the news, but its residue was never fully removed from the internet and public life.

Gamergate articulated a particular kind of aggrieved masculinity, an anger at losing the power of being the target audience. Since 2014, it has shaped everything from the men's rights movement to the current iteration of the GOP, outlining what it means to be a man in certain corners of the internet.

In many ways, says Adrienne Massanari, an associate professor at American University’s school of communications, Gamergate presaged a broader reaction on the right toward real changes happening in American society. Former Donald Trump adviser Steve Bannon latched onto this in 2015, harnessing the power of committed online fandoms to bolster Trump’s campaign.

Within the community, Gamergate seemingly bifurcated men into distinct camps. Men who came to Sarkeesian’s defense, for example, were dubbed “white knights” and simps. Meanwhile, the people doing the harassing saw themselves as trying to protect the space from the “outside” influences of “social justice warriors,” who threatened to take away the elements that—they felt—made games fun.

“Even though we know that a bunch of people play games, [the men involved in Gamergate] saw themselves as being the target demographic for games. When that started to shift, the reaction was, of course, anger,” says Massanari. “Now that’s reflected, refracted, and amplified by Trumpism and that kind of far-right strain of Republicanism reacting to demographic and societal shifts toward a more egalitarian society.”

This same kind of anger and resistance can be seen now in figures like J.D. Vance and Elon Musk, who both decry “woke-ism” in politics and culture broadly. In interviews, Musk has said that he was motivated to purchase X, formerly Twitter, to fight the “woke mind virus” that he says is destroying civilization. The Heritage Foundation’s political road map Project 2025 repeatedly mentions “woke” progressivism as a threat that must be eliminated, particularly by doing away with diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives in government spaces.

This connection comes full circle in what’s become “Gamergate 2.0,” a backlash to inclusion efforts where “DEI” is now a catchphrase. Ten years ago, gamers pushed back against critics like Sarkeesian for pointing out that many female characters in games were nothing more than tropes. In 2024, the campaigns are against video game consulting companies such as Sweet Baby for performing what some gamers believe is “forced diversification.” No matter the rallying cry, the reason is the same: Being upset that the characters in video games no longer represent your interests.

While the politics of masculine grievance aren’t exactly new, says Patrick Rafail, professor of sociology at Tulane University, “the mainstreaming of it is.”

Although Gamergate came out of a relatively niche subculture, its elements can now be found in influencers like Andrew Tate who have popularized “these very simplistic, archetypal, stereotypical extremes” of masculinity, says Debbie Ging, professor of digital media and gender at Dublin City University. A new era of podcasting, coupled with a rise in short-form video platforms like TikTok, “which are heavily algorithm-driven,” have been significant drivers of this form of rhetoric, Ging says.

Current influencers provide a sort of blueprint for a post-Gamergate masculinity, one that still contains some of the movement’s toxic ideas, repackaged to be more initially appealing. “These ‘manfluencers’ propagate a lot of the same kind of red-pill ideas, the same kind of theories from evolutionary psychology. But what they have kind of moved toward is a greater focus on financial advice, motivation, mental health,” Ging says. This kind of content is ultimately “focused on how to maintain your masculine status.”

The more mainstream topics peddled by these influencers—and a need for community—continue to pull young men in, says Andrew Reiner, a lecturer at Towson University and the author of Better Boys, Better Men: The New Masculinity That Creates Greater Courage and Emotional Resiliency.

“It's not like a lot of these guys start out on the far right saying, ‘All this has happened to me and these people on the left here are to blame,’” Reiner says. “It’s not that extreme. In the beginning, a lot of these guys are saying, ‘I’m struggling, I’m looking for support, and I don’t really know where to turn.’”

Part of that desire for community is what makes gaming or influencer fandom both deeply attractive and such a powerful breeding ground for groups that rely on masculine grievance. Male-dominated online communities, like gaming or right-wing spaces, can often be characterized by trash-talking and one-upmanship, “because that's the only way young men have been acculturated into being able to talk with their peers,” Massanari adds. That same behavior can easily spill over into harassment, partly because it’s about maintaining that masculine status.

As influencer culture and political culture become ever more intertwined, it should be no surprise that the desire to maintain masculine status—and anger at its decline—can be found in many of the ways the right codes itself. After the attempted assassination of Trump last month, a photo of the former president, fist in the air in front of an American flag, went viral. Even Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg called the moment “badass” in an interview with Bloomberg. Speaking at the National Conservatism Conference in June, author and professor David Azerrad called Trump “undeniably manly.”

And while politics and fandom have always had an overlap (e.g., Brat Summer), Massanari says Trump and the new right represent a whole different scale. “Gamergate was really focused on fandom communities,” says Massanari. “If you think about Trump, Trump is nothing if not a fandom community. When I watched any of the [Republican National Convention] stuff, I was struck by thinking, ‘All this could be like a bunch of Taylor Swift fans.’”

Jessica O’Donnell, author of Gamergate and Anti-Feminism in the Digital Age, warns that while the ideas of Gamergate may live on in the far right and the GOP, the aggressive, harassing fandom behaviors are not limited to a political party. As some online spaces, such as Reddit, have become more friendly to far-left politics, which can have its own form of aggressive promoters (see: dirtbag left), O’Donnell says Gamergaters have followed along.

“I think a lot of people who were involved in Gamergate, you see now having more of a sort of radical leftist kind of ideology, because they’ve seen that’s where they’re going to get more clout,” she says. “It’s more about picking the winning team, rather than the team to win.” In other words, Gamergate was the internet—and it’s everywhere now.

[tedwardremus]

Thoughts on modern fashion?

Also how would muggle Walburga Black dress?

Oh boy, did I share some thoughts lol. But nothing really on any particular trend or brand. I've rambled on enough but happy to discuss specific trends and brands too.

Fashion is a visual medium that encapsulates culture, class, politics, gender, and various facets of identity. It exists at the intersection of art and consumerism, serving as both a form of self-expression and a market-driven product. We pick clothes that we like and feel express ourselves but we are also told what to like and what to purchase by large corporations who see us as numbers in a stock portfolio and not as individuals. 

While fashion has often been dismissed as frivolous, it is fundamentally intertwined with our identities, allowing us to communicate who we are as individuals and as members of society. Fashion is a nuanced and personal expression that reflects social change, political beliefs, and aesthetic values, making it a powerful lens through which we can examine the evolving roles of individuals and communities in the public sphere.

As a consumer good, the demand for clothing is at an all-time high, with fast fashion emerging as a significant environmental concern. The industry contributes to the proliferation of plastic waste, with low-quality garments often ending up in landfills and on beaches. Moreover, the production of such high quantities of clothing raises serious concerns over human rights violations associated with the exploitation of cheap labor.

It can feel like a losing battle these days to find a good outfit that lasts a long time and is affordable. We compromise our values when we shop fast fashion but few of us have an alternative choice.

Today, using fashion as a clear class distinction has become increasingly challenging. Even millionaire influencers often choose to wear inexpensive clothing from brands like Shein and websites like Amazon, favoring mass-produced items over bespoke garments tailored specifically to their bodies. This shift reflects a broader trend where the sign of wealth is no longer measured by the quality or craftsmanship of clothing but rather by the sheer volume of items one owns.

Even brands that used to signify quality have cheapened their production. Levi jeans are not the same quality denim they are famous for. 

A truly well-made purse, like many classic accessories, should be designed to last a lifetime, with craftsmanship that withstands the wear and tear of daily life. Ideally, an investment in such a piece would mean living in and growing with it, allowing it to become a part of one’s personal history. Yet, in today’s culture of disposable fashion, we see a different approach: closets overflowing with countless handbags, each one picked up for a season and quickly discarded in favor of the next trend.

This excess not only dilutes the value of individual items but also fosters a cycle of constant consumption, where style becomes transient and connection to one’s belongings fleeting. Instead of cherishing a few high-quality pieces, the modern consumer is encouraged to accumulate—a shift that ultimately transforms what could be an investment in artistry or utility (we do need to carry things with us throughout the day) into a revolving door of fleeting fashion trends and hoarding.

NOW FINALLY, WALBURGA

Walburga Black would never be caught wearing the same thing as anyone else. Unlike modern influencers who shop off the rack or online, her style is rooted in old-fashioned tradition and exclusivity. She remains one of the last true patrons of couture, frequenting designer boutiques where her measurements are kept on file and each piece is custom-fitted to perfection. Her wardrobe is filled with furs, bespoke pieces, and timeless luxury brands like Chanel. Walburga travels to Paris and Italy to meet designers in person, ensuring her attire is as exclusive as her social circle.

She loves a good hat. She loves dark colors to contrast with her pale skin. She wears Dior red lipstick. She loves a well-cut blazer and she can run in stilettos (not that she would. A lady never runs). 

She would consider Kris Jenner’s taste in fashion gaudy and utterly beneath her. Because try as they might, the Kardashian cannot escape the aesthetic of flashy, social-climbing “new money” and it would be an affront to Walburga’s refined sensibilities and deep-rooted aristocratic standards.

(and my work is cutting wifi off for some reason so I'm publishing this without inspirational photos so I can go home)

[satoshi-mochida]

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed launches September 24 - Gematsu

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC via Steam on September 24 for $59.99 / £49.99 / €59.99, publisher THQ Nordic and developer Purple Lamp Studios announced.

Digital pre-orders are available now and include 24 hours of early access to the game on September 23, as well as the downloadable content “Costume Pack,” which features “Steamboat Willie, “Brave Little Tailor,” and “Football” costumes for Mickey Mouse. The “Costume Pack” can also be purchased separately for $4.99.

Here is an overview of the game, via THQ Nordic:

About

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed brings the magic of Disney to life in a vibrant 3D platformer. This beautiful remake sends Mickey Mouse on an epic journey through Wasteland, a realm of forgotten Disney characters. As Mickey, you will dive into a fantastical world and, armed with paint and thinner, shape your adventure and the fate of this alternate world. Every stroke of your magic brush matters! Use paint to restore beauty and harmony or thinner to alter your environment and uncover hidden secrets. Your choices influence Mickey’s destiny and change the outcome of this artistic odyssey. Will you become the epic hero Wasteland needs? Encounter various iconic characters like Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Walt Disney’s first creation, as you travel between lands in Wasteland. Collect virtual Disney pins, tackle creative challenges, and uncover secrets, all while exploring classic platforming levels inspired by animated films and shorts. Originally envisioned by Warren Spector, reimagined by Purple Lamp, Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed employs state-of-the-art visuals and improved controls to breathe new life into a beloved classic. Experience new movement skills for Mickey, such as dash, ground pound and sprinting. The game’s compelling story makes it an unforgettable adventure for long-time fans and newcomers alike. Join Mickey Mouse and unravel the mysteries of Wasteland in this homage to Disney’s legacy.

Key Features

Explore a reimagined Wasteland, full of Disney’s timeless characters and stories.

Wield the magic brush: Paint to create, thinner to alter. Every choice shapes your story.

Meet Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Disney’s original star, in a rich, narrative-driven world.

Enjoy advanced gameplay with new abilities and enhanced visuals in a classic setting.

Mickey has new moves such as dash, ground pound and sprinting.

High replayability with multiple endings based on your unique playstyle and decisions.

Watch a new trailer below.

Release Date and Collector's Edition Trailer

[michaelespositostatenisland]

Michael Esposito Staten Island: Innovative AI Solutions for Influencer Marketing in the Digital Age

In the ever-evolving landscape of digital marketing, influencer marketing has emerged as a powerful strategy for brands to connect with their target audience and drive engagement. With the rise of social media platforms, influencers have become key players in shaping consumer preferences and purchasing decisions. Michael Esposito Staten Island — Influence in the Digital Age exemplifies this trend, highlighting how digital influencers can significantly impact marketing strategies and outcomes. However, as the digital space becomes increasingly saturated with content, brands are turning to innovative AI solutions to enhance their influencer marketing efforts and stay ahead of the curve.

AI-Powered Influencer Discovery

One of the biggest challenges brands face in influencer marketing is finding the right influencers to collaborate with. Traditional methods of influencer discovery often involve manual research and outreach, which can be time-consuming and inefficient. However, AI-powered influencer discovery platforms leverage advanced algorithms to analyze vast amounts of data and identify influencers who are the best fit for a brand's target audience and campaign objectives. Michael Esposito Staten Island: An Influencer Marketer Extraordinaire, exemplifies how effective influencer collaboration can transform marketing strategies. By harnessing the power of AI, brands can streamline the influencer discovery process and identify high-potential collaborators with greater accuracy and efficiency.

Predictive Analytics for Campaign Optimization

Once influencers have been identified and partnerships established, brands can leverage AI-powered predictive analytics to optimize their influencer marketing campaigns. Predictive analytics algorithms analyze historical campaign data, audience demographics, and engagement metrics to forecast the performance of future campaigns. By leveraging these insights, brands can make data-driven decisions about content strategy, audience targeting, and campaign optimization, maximizing the impact of their influencer collaborations and driving measurable results.

AI-Driven Content Creation

Content creation is a critical component of influencer marketing campaigns, and AI is revolutionizing the way brands create and optimize content for maximum impact. AI-powered content creation tools can generate personalized, high-quality content at scale, helping brands maintain a consistent brand voice and aesthetic across their influencer collaborations. From automated image and video editing to natural language processing for caption generation, AI-driven content creation tools empower brands to create compelling, on-brand content that resonates with their target audience and drives engagement.

Sentiment Analysis for Brand Monitoring

Influencer marketing campaigns can have a significant impact on brand perception, and it's essential for brands to monitor and manage their online reputation effectively. AI-powered sentiment analysis tools analyze social media conversations and user-generated content to gauge public sentiment towards a brand or campaign. By tracking mentions, sentiment trends, and key themes, brands can quickly identify and address any potential issues or negative feedback, allowing them to proactively manage their brand reputation and maintain a positive online presence.

Automated Performance Reporting

Measuring the success of influencer marketing campaigns is crucial for determining ROI and informing future strategies. However, manual performance reporting can be time-consuming and prone to human error. AI-powered analytics platforms automate the process of performance reporting by aggregating data from multiple sources, analyzing key metrics, and generating comprehensive reports in real-time. By providing brands with actionable insights into campaign performance, audience engagement, and ROI, AI-driven analytics platforms enable brands to optimize their influencer marketing efforts and drive continuous improvement.

In conclusion, as influencer marketing continues to evolve in the digital age, brands must leverage innovative AI solutions to stay competitive and maximize the impact of their campaigns. From AI-powered influencer discovery and predictive analytics to automated content creation and sentiment analysis, AI is revolutionizing every aspect of influencer marketing, enabling brands to connect with their target audience more effectively and drive measurable results. By embracing these innovative AI solutions, brands can unlock the full potential of influencer marketing and achieve success in the digital era.

[seotoolblend]

High-Ticket Affiliate Programs: A Comprehensive Guide for 2025

High-ticket affiliate marketing represents a strategic approach to generating substantial commissions through the promotion of premium products and services.

Unlike traditional affiliate marketing that focuses on high-volume, low-commission items, high-ticket affiliate programs offer significantly larger earnings per sale, often ranging from $500 to several thousand dollars per transaction.

The primary advantage of pursuing high-ticket affiliate programs lies in their potential for generating meaningful income with fewer sales. For instance, promoting a $2,000 product with a 40% commission yields $800 per sale, equivalent to selling eighty $10 products at a 10% commission rate.

Top High-Ticket Affiliate Programs for Serious Marketers

When evaluating high-ticket affiliate marketing opportunities, several programs stand out for their exceptional earning potential and professional support structures:

Digital Education Platforms

Commission rates: 30-50% per sale

Average product value: $1,000-$3,000

Comprehensive training materials included

Enterprise Software Solutions

Commission rates: 20-40% per sale

Average product value: $2,500-$10,000

Recurring commission opportunities

Enterprise Software Solutions

Commission rates: 15-30% per sale

Average booking value: $5,000-$15,000

Exclusive partnership opportunities

Essential Steps to Start High-Ticket Affiliate Marketing Successfully

Success in high-ticket affiliate marketing requires a strategic approach:

Market Research and Selection Begin by identifying your target audience and understanding their specific needs. High-ticket products require a more sophisticated approach to market analysis, focusing on demographics with substantial purchasing power.

Platform Development Establish a professional online presence through:

A professionally designed website

Authoritative content development

Strategic social media positioning

Relationship Building Develop strong relationships with:

Program vendors

Industry influencers

Potential customers through value-driven content

Advanced Strategies for Promoting High-Ticket Affiliate Products

To maximize success in high-ticket affiliate marketing, implement these advanced strategies:

Content Marketing Excellence Create comprehensive content that demonstrates expertise and builds trust. This includes:

Detailed product reviews

Case studies

Expert interviews

Educational webinars

Email Marketing Automation Develop sophisticated email sequences that:

Nurture potential customers

Provide valuable insights

Build credibility over time

Guide prospects through the decision-making process

Personal Brand Development Establish yourself as an authority in your chosen niche by:

Speaking at industry events

Publishing thought leadership content

Participating in professional networks

Showcasing successful case studies

Success in high-ticket affiliate marketing stems from building genuine relationships and providing substantial value to your audience. Focus on understanding your target market's needs and consistently delivering solutions that address their specific challenges. Remember that while the commission potential is significant, the responsibility to provide accurate, valuable information to your audience is paramount.

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 16: "no, I'm not okay"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

A controlled tornado of hands, fabric, feet, needles, thread, pins, designs whirled through Jackie's fashion studio. While Jackie's body was presently safe in her office with Donna, her mind existed in an uncertain future. She'd put on her best costume of confidence, full of bright smiles and enthusiastic words. Donna had offered to interview her about Jackie's redesigned Spring/Summer 1990 collection. It was of interest to her magazine since the clothes were inspired by the emerging rock scene from the Pacific Northwest.

"Your staff is working at breakneck speed out there," Donna said and gestured at the deliberate chaos visible through the office window. "Will your November fourth fashion show give you enough time to fill purchase orders?"

Jackie lowered her face to the small tape recorder on her desk. "Of course! My U.S.-based factory has the design specifics for both the higher-end and ready-to-wear clothes we've already completed, and I've established an efficient supply-chain with my fabric suppliers."

"But why take such a risk? You showed your original spring/summer collection a month ago. How did retailers react to you cancelling their original P.O.s?"

"They're curious and excited about what the House of Burkhart is going to show in less than a month." Jackie's impulse was to smooth the wrinkles in her skirt, but Donna would recognize the tell. She prayed Donna followed her redirection of the interview, to the substance of her collection and away from the spectacle of its creation.

Donna tapped her pen against her top teeth but let her notebook rest in her lap. She rubbed her stomach with her free hand and appeared a little sick, but she said, "It's October sixteenth. This might be the fastest turnaround by a fashion house of your quality. What inspired you to take this risk?"

"The future." Obscurity was not in Jackie's vocabulary, and both she and Steven had the foresight to be cultural influencers in their careers. *Remaining stagnant is safe, boring, and potentially deadly. As a county, we're moving on from the '80s self-involved, narcissistic excesses and superficiality to a new paradigm of empathy, individuality yet collective responsibility for one another, and depth. Fashion should -- no, must reflect this movement."

"Wow, that's quite a pre -- " Donna swallowed. "May I use your bathroom?"

She sprinted to Jackie's personal bathroom before Jackie could gesture to it. Donna wouldn't have conducted this interview if she had a stomach virus or any kind of illness. She wasn't the type. Only one logical answer explained her behavior.

Donna apologized when she returned to her chair across from Jackie, and Jackie pressed stop onthe tape recorder. "Off the record," Jackie said, "are you okay?"

"I'm great, actually." Donna's formerly pale face has regained color. "Are you okay? Off the record."

"I'm trying to be, but ... no, I'm not okay. If my gamble fails, my career is probably over."

Donna reached across the desk and squeezed Jackie's friend. "Then it won't fail. You're Jackie freaking Burkhart."

Yes, she was, and she was sick of her obsessive thoughts. Steven told her they were driven by fear, and he was right. He also said she needed a distraction even though she had no time to be distracted.

"Are you pregnant?" she whispered.

Donna's eyes widened. "No! Although Kelso recently tried to pressure Eric to get me pregnant."

Jackie laughed and shook her head. Donna was lying and not lying, but she wouldn't push her friend. Donna was allowed her secrets. "Brooke asked for Steven's help yesterday to convince Michael to 'knock her up' again. If those two don't find a peaceful solution to their friction, they won't last. I'd hate that for them and for Betsy."

"Me, too." Donna glanced at her tape recorder. "Should we get on with the interview?"

Jackie pressed play in response, and they continued.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 19/02/2024

Plantasia 2

Season 5 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume D

Ripped by MaxTrax

Requested by The Eight O’Clock Comet and an anonymous reader!

Remember those times where I've mused on just how interesting it is to fall into rabbitholes from running this blog? Y'know, with waterwraith pokos - a rip I once thought nothing of that refuses to leave my head since I learned more about its joke origin and spread. There's a good number more rabbitholes just like it, yet few have truly caught my attention quite the way Plantasia 2 did. And, beyond it too being a rip of Pikmin 2, the strangest part of it all is - it hardly feels as if the rip itself even *wanted* to be uncovered.

I'm half certain that I myself missed out on the rip's core premise from tabbing out after listening for a bit, because it presents itself as so innocuously. A track as immediately distinct and identifiable in sound as Results of the Day, melody swapped to some classic SiIva jokes: Among Us Drip, Grand Dad, Nutshack - Oh what silly whimsy, what hijinx! An everyday, standard, good-quality rip to send to your Pikmin-interested friends as an icebreaker, without much else to it - and that's the way it stays for almost two whole minutes of its runtime. Click, laugh at the bait-and-switch joke, move on - the typical rip listening experience for many viewers (or at least myself) truly doesn't do Plantasia 2 justice.

Because, as you yourself may have noticed - at the minute-fifty timestamp, the rip hard-pivots in direction, to the point of even getting original visuals, all in loving tribute to the 1976 album Mother Earth's Plantasia by Mort Garson. If you're unfamiliar, I don't blame you, but just a quick glance at both him and his album's Wikipedia pages will tell you just how much of a legacy they both have. With the intent of making music specifically for plants to listen to, to the point of only distributing the album alongside purchases of houseplants from the titular Mother Earth store, Mother Earth's Plantasia was one of the first albums to have ever been composed entirely on a Moog synthesizer - purely for the listening pleasure of plant-life. In other words: It's pretty important to the history of synthesized music in general! Beyond that historical angle, it of course helps that the title track Plantasia, the one that Plantasia 2 is an arrangement of in particular, is absolutely soul-cleansingly beautiful, with an opening prelude that immediately brought to mind everything from Final Fantasy to Minecraft, yet building to a triumphant crescendo that reminded me of We're Finally Landing of SummoningSalt-video fame. The influences taken from Mother Earth's Plantasia can be felt everywhere, yet the root of it all feels all too forgotten about.

To say that Pikmin is the perfect franchise to use for this kind of tribute would be an understatement - the synth-driven Results of the Day theme has persisted with the series since its very beginning, conveying the beauty of space within a game otherwise so focused on exploring beautiful gardens. It's as if its conveying a sort of juxtaposition between the two sides to Pikmin's world, ytet the feeling that both it and the original Mother Earth's Plantasia convey is also one of connection between the two. The plants looking to the stars, to other unknown life beyond planet earth, longingly dreaming about the universe...the Pikmin are just little plant guys, and yet a theme like Results of the Day sparks so many emotions. I can't help but feel yet more emotional thinking about the humble, pure-hearted upbringings of both Pikmin and Mother Earth's Plantasia - both Shigeru Miyamoto and Mort Garson sought to create something out of a love for nature itself moreso than fame and fortune, and in doing so helped move their respective mediums forward in thoroughly underappreciated ways.

MaxTrax's list of contributions to the SiIvaGunner channel is comparatively small, with him seemingly ebbing in and out of activity practically every other year. Yet that gives me the impression that he genuinely puts his whole heart into each contribution he makes, to share these small, niche little nuggets of his interests to the broader SiIvaGunner audience; much the same impression I got from the ripper Uncle Fill in Violet Snow Memories. For MaxTrax, Plantasia doesn't appear to just be some neat song to tinker around with for another rip - Plantasia 2 exudes that feel of being a genuine passion project, akin to rips like Jesus of the Underground. Yet, much like Mother Earth's Plantasia or Pikmin itself, it also seems perfectly content in not being a big, explosive, all-eyeballs-on-me event of a release: the ones who are going to notice the true intentions of Plantasia 2 are the Pikmin fans who were going to listen to it the whole way through anyway.

It's all still just so bizarre to me - the rip does a *double* bait-and-switch in a way I haven't really seen much of since it was first done way back in Be Cool, Be Wild, and Be My Girl, yet...doesn't do it at the expense of, or as a joke played on, the audience. It is purely a surprise treat to those SiIvaGunner fans who truly pay attention, who approach the channel with care and dignity, engaging with other fans in dialogue - again, I'm almost certain that I missed the point of it when it was first uploaded and only found out about its true intentions through more than one person requesting it for the blog! The sense of community that SiIvaGunner is able to create through finding your own special little rips, sharing them with others, being invited to uncover these fascinating little pieces of knowledge purely from a rippers' interests...it really is special, and Plantasia 2 truly does embody it in such a fascinating, befitting way. Because really: what could possibly be more representative of love, compassion, empathy and care for others, than to tend to one's garden with such a human form of expression as music?

[luxe-pauvre]

Every person offers immediate social signifiers with their clothing. Sometimes this is obvious: clothing covered in logos with a certain designer’s name, outfits comprised of attention grabbing colors or loud patterns, garments and uniforms associated with particularly career paths. Even the person picking their smelly sweatpants off the floor and hastily pairing them with a wrinkled t-shirt is offering a social signifier, either I do not care what other people think of my clothing or I want people to think that I do not care what people think of my clothing. It would be ridiculous and ahistorical to claim that there was a time in modern fashion where clothing didn’t function as a form of social exchange or that social identity has ever been extricable from consumption. But our contemporary understanding of identity, by way of these “niche aesthetics”, are not social identities later commodified. They begin with consumption, any sort of cultural or philosophical unification is a latter addition. A single, branded item becomes the basis for a group identity; one does not need to own this item, simple aspire towards what it represents and place themselves in a network of like-minded consumers. The structures of social media heavily reenforce commodity-based niche aesthetics. Certainly, influencers, celebrities, and socialites have always influenced people into purchasing things or adopting specific trends and styles. What is unique to our contemporary media landscape is the role in which algorithms play in building our consumer identities: Tik Tok’s main feature is its endless, algorithmically generated For You page. Instagram has continually increased its focus on suggested content, both in the Explore page and on its main feed. Specific objects become units of data, like a geotag or hashtag, which can be analysed and promoted based on a user’s previous interaction history. Without any human involvement, a social media algorithm can notice that some users who enjoy content about female-driven coming-of-age movies will be receptive to fashion videos that feature iced coffee in glass mason jars and platform oxford leather shoes. The algorithm then promotes content that synthesizes the most trend-friendly images, ideas, and products. In this way, contemporary social media does not reenforce niche identity groupings but actively creates them, selecting the exact products and commodities that can be grouped together to target and captivate specific markets.

charlie, Personal Style Is Dead And The Algorithm Killed It

[enchantingqueenzombie]

Fun and Functional Design

Besides local showrooms, an increasing number of restaurant house owners are turning to online suppliers for his or her wholesale furniture desires. The convenience of on-line looking offers restaurant homeowners access to a broader choice of merchandise, typically at competitive costs. Varied websites cater specifically to the hospitality sector, providing a big range of restaurant furniture options starting from ancient to modern styles. Websites such as Restaurant Furniture.web, Wayfair Business, and WebstaurantStore provide in depth catalogs that embrace everything from tables and chairs to specialized equipment. This digital approach permits restaurant house owners to pool furniture check prices and styles easily, scan client reviews, and read detailed product descriptions, all of that can facilitate them create informed getting selections.

How to Arrange Outdoor Resin Furniture

Small restaurants and cafes across the United States increasingly turn to Nardi's economical italy Nardi Chaise chair choices when furnishing out of doors dining areas. These institutions appreciate access to European-designed seating while operating within restricted budget constraints. The whole's basic collections give essential functionality Nardi Chaise Lounge costco and clean aesthetics while not requiring premium-level investment.

Outdoor Resin Furniture Accessories You Need

Competition among wholesale suppliers within the Seattle market has driven innovations in each product offerings and service levels. Major distributors maintain showrooms and warehousing facilities throughout the region, from Tacoma to Everett, ensuring economical delivery and quick replacement availability. The market's competitive nature has led to the development of specialised services like weather-specific consulting, serving to restaurants optimize their furniture selections for specific microclimates and locations throughout the larger Seattle space.

Tips for Shopping for Outdoor Resin Furniture

As lifestyle trends evolve, the importance of shared meals and social gatherings remains a cornerstone of the American experience. High-finish massive dining tables facilitate these interactions, providing a house where relationships are nurtured and recollections are created. Whether or not it’s a family Nardi Chaise Sunlounger nz gathering, a vacation celebration, or a business meeting, the dining table serves as a backdrop for connection and conversation. This enduring significance adds intrinsic price Nardi Chaise Sunlounger sale to high-quality items, reinforcing the concept that investing in a very well-crafted dining table is not simply a purchase but a commitment to enhancing one’s lifestyle Nardi Chaise Sunlounger gold coast and fostering meaningful experiences.

Keeping Your Pieces Looking New

Online procurement platforms have gained significance in New York's restaurant furniture market, with many native suppliers maintaining digital catalogs and ordering systems. These platforms typically integrate with inventory management systems, enabling restaurants to trace orders and coordinate deliveries effectively. The flexibility pool furniture to match products and prices on-line helps operators make informed decisions while managing procurement costs.

Outdoor Resin Furniture for BBQs

Ultimately, the choice of wood species for outside furniture will significantly influence each the functionality and aesthetic appeal of out of doors areas. Whether or not opting for the classic strength of oak, the natural fantastic thing about cedar and redwood, or the lux

[adscraft]

Ad Creation Made Easy: Step-by-Step Guide for Beginners

Creating ads may seem overwhelming if you're just starting, but with the right approach and tools, ad creation can become an accessible and effective way to reach your audience, drive traffic, and boost conversions. Whether you're a business owner, content creator, or marketer, understanding the basics of ad creation is crucial to maximizing your digital marketing efforts. This step-by-step guide will walk you through the essentials of ad creation, making it easy for beginners to craft compelling, results-driven ads.

Step 1: Understand Your Audience

Before you create an ad, it’s crucial to understand who you’re targeting. Knowing your audience helps you design more relevant and compelling ads that will resonate with users. Consider the following factors:

Demographics: Age, gender, location, and income level can influence how your ad is perceived.

Interests: What are your audience's hobbies, preferences, and behaviors?

Step 2: Define Your Goal

What is the goal you want to achieve with your advertisement? Clearly defining your objective is vital for successful ad creation, including keyword-based ad campaigns. Your goal might fall into one of the following categories:

Brand Awareness: Let people know about your product, service, or content.

Lead Generation: Capture contact information from potential customers.

Step 3: Choose the Right Ad Format

Different platforms have different ad formats that may work better depending on your goal. Here are a few popular platforms and the ad formats you can use:

Facebook & Instagram Ads: These platforms allow a variety of ad types, including image ads, carousel ads (multiple images or videos), video ads, and story ads. They’re great for visual content and social engagement.

Step 4: Craft a Compelling Message

The content of your ad—its copy and visuals—plays a significant role in its success. Here are some suggestions for creating impactful ad copy:

Keep It Simple: People have limited attention spans, so make sure your ad is concise and to the point. Focus on delivering a message quickly and clearly.

Highlight the Benefits: Explain how your product or service solves a problem or meets a need. Use language that appeals to your audience's desires or pain points.

Step 5: Design Your Visual Elements

A visually appealing ad will draw attention and increase the likelihood that users will click or engage. Consider these design tips:

Keep It Simple:Avoid cluttering your ad with excessive text or images. Instead, concentrate on delivering a single, clear message or offer.

Brand Consistency: Use your brand’s colors, logo, and fonts to maintain consistency across all your ads.

Step 6: Optimize Your Ad for Performance

Once your ad is live, it’s important to track its performance and make necessary adjustments. Important metrics to track include:

Click-through Rate (CTR):The proportion of individuals who clicked on your ad after viewing it. A higher CTR signifies that the ad is performing well.

Conversion Rate: The percentage of users who took the desired action (e.g., made a purchase, signed up) after clicking your ad.

Step 7: Test and Iterate

Ongoing testing and optimization are essential for achieving success in ad creation. A/B testing (comparing two versions of an ad) can help you determine what resonates best with your audience. Test different elements like:

Headlines

Call-to-Action

Images and Video Thumbnails

You can also watch: Effortless & Smart Ad Creation Made Simple with AdsGPT!

Conclusion

Ad creation doesn’t have to be a complicated process. By following these simple steps—understanding your audience, setting clear objectives, selecting the right platform and format, crafting compelling ad copy, and optimizing based on performance—you can do ad creation that effectively engage your audience and meet your marketing goals. Remember, successful ads are the result of constant testing and refinement, so don’t be afraid to experiment and learn as you go.