#cost-per-hire

[techhy-simpson]

Cost-Effective Alternatives to Full-Time Hires: Freelancers, Contractors, and Staff Augmentation

Hey there, fellow business owners and HR professionals! Are you feeling the pinch when it comes to hiring full-time employees? Trust me, you're not alone. In today's fast-paced business world, finding the right balance between talent and budget can feel like trying to solve a Rubik's cube blindfolded. But what if I told you there's a way to get the skills you need without breaking the bank? Stick with me, and I'll show you how freelancers, contractors, and staff augmentation could be the game-changers you've been looking for.

The Hiring Dilemma: Why Traditional Approaches Might Not Cut It

Let's face it: hiring full-time employees is expensive. Between salaries, benefits, office space, and equipment, the costs can add up faster than a kid in a candy store with a blank check. And that's not even considering the time and resources spent on recruitment and training.

But here's the kicker: in many cases, you might not even need a full-time employee for every role. Maybe you have a big project coming up that requires specialized skills for a few months. Or perhaps your workload fluctuates throughout the year. This is where our cost-effective alternatives come into play. You can go for best php developer with scalable requirement and specialized skills.

Freelancers: The Solo Artists of the Business World

First up, we have freelancers. Think of them as the solo artists of the business world. They're independent professionals who specialize in specific skills or industries. Need a graphic designer for your new marketing campaign? A freelancer can help. Looking for a writer to spruce up your website content? Yep, freelancers have got you covered.

The beauty of working with freelancers is their flexibility. You can hire them for short-term projects or ongoing work, and you only pay for the hours they actually work. No need to worry about providing benefits or office space. Plus, with platforms like Upwork and Fiverr, finding skilled freelancers is easier than ever.

But here's a pro tip: when working with freelancers, clear communication is key. Make sure you're both on the same page about expectations, deadlines, and payment terms. It's like any good relationship – honesty and openness go a long way.

Contractors: The Specialists on Speed Dial

Next up, we have contractors. Think of contractors as the specialists you keep on speed dial. They're similar to freelancers but often work on longer-term projects and may be more integrated into your team.

Contractors are perfect when you need someone with specialized skills for an extended period but don't want to commit to a full-time hire. Maybe you're launching a new product and need a project manager for six months. Or perhaps you need extra IT support during a system upgrade. Contractors can step in, do the job, and step out when the project's done.

The best part? Contractors often come with a wealth of experience from working with different companies. They can bring fresh perspectives and innovative ideas to your team. It's like having a consultant and an extra pair of hands all rolled into one!

Staff Augmentation: Your Flexible Workforce Solution

Now, let's talk about staff augmentation. If freelancers are solo artists and contractors are specialists on speed dial, think of staff augmentation as your backup band that can grow or shrink as needed.

Staff augmentation involves partnering with a third-party provider who can supply you with skilled professionals to supplement your existing team. It's like having an extended talent pool at your fingertips. Need to scale up quickly for a big project? Staff augmentation can help. Want to bring in specialized skills without the long-term commitment? You guessed it – staff augmentation is the answer. Yes, choosing updated and skilled Laravel developer is all you need instead of hiring expensive inexperienced team and methods.

The beauty of this approach is its flexibility. You can quickly adjust your workforce based on your current needs and budget. It's like having a dimmer switch for your team size – you can dial it up or down as needed.

Making the Most of These Alternatives

Now, I know what you might be thinking: "This all sounds great, but how do I actually implement these alternatives?" Well, I'm glad you asked! Here are some tips to help you make the most of freelancers, contractors, and staff augmentation:

1. Identify Your Needs: Before diving in, take a step back and assess your needs. What skills are you missing? How long do you need them for? This will help you decide which alternative is best for you.

2. Start Small: If you're new to these approaches, start with a small project. It's like dipping your toe in the water before diving in. This will help you get comfortable with the process and iron out any kinks.

3. Build Relationships: Whether you're working with freelancers, contractors, or a staff augmentation provider, building strong relationships is key. Treat them as valued partners, not just temporary help.

4. Embrace Technology: Tools like project management software and video conferencing can help you collaborate effectively with remote workers. It's like having a virtual office that's open 24/7.

5. Be Clear About Expectations: Clear communication is crucial. Make sure everyone understands their roles, responsibilities, and deadlines. It's like giving everyone the same sheet music – it ensures you're all playing the same tune.

The Bottom Line: Flexibility is the Future

In today's rapidly changing business landscape, flexibility is more than just a buzzword – it's a necessity. By embracing alternatives like freelancers, contractors, and staff augmentation, you're not just saving money. You're setting your business up to be agile, responsive, and ready for whatever challenges come your way.

Remember, there's no one-size-fits-all solution. The best approach for your business might be a combination of these alternatives. Maybe you use freelancers for creative projects, contractors for specialized technical work, and staff augmentation to handle seasonal spikes in demand. It's like creating your own custom workforce cocktail – mix and match until you find the perfect blend for your business.

So, are you ready to shake things up and explore these cost-effective alternatives? Trust me, your budget (and your stress levels) will thank you. Who knows? You might just find that these flexible approaches are the secret ingredient your business has been missing all along.

Remember, in the world of business, it's not about having the biggest team – it's about having the right team. And with these alternatives in your toolkit, you're well on your way to building a dream team that's as flexible as it is effective. Here's to smart hiring and even smarter business growth!

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

streaming tv is like the fantasy/fiction need for a mid list. big money thrown at projects expecting that big money can make anything too big to fail, when the reality is that there’s only so much profit to make in an oversaturated market and only so many properties that can be the number one most popular thing at a time, but no matter how many projects fail or how variable the quality of the art is, it’s never going to be acceptable again to shore up most of your projects with only SOME money and letting that “mid list” find longlasting audiences that provide your baseline business

i wish both streaming tv and the publishing industry would spend less money on more projects that cultivate good writing. i want good writing and long projects to get invested in so bad that i'm caring less and less for production

my thesis statement is that tv shows are being canceled because they cost too much money. a mid list would have saved most canceled shows. higher production costs don't mean better writing, and lower production costs don't mean worse writing

the publishing industry is asking for shorter fantasy books and is canceling series and leaving authors behind because it is throwing all its money at shiny new things that are not actually new and don't stick

all of this without investment in a "mid list" to keep baseline profits coming or to keep a foundation of writers paid and busy

if companies spent less money on shows, would they last longer? would they hone writers' skills more? does this extend to animation where the budgets are so much smaller? or is there no world where i could get multiple 25-episode seasons of arcane and i'm just deluding myself

fantasy books especially have had an oversaturation problem for years, but the biggest problem is an over-reliance on debuts without investment in originality or in authors’ futures. what this looks like is big money thrown at marketing shiny debuts or at a subset of the old familiar faces in fantasy that established themselves before the shift in industry mindset. everyone else either gets scraps or can’t find their footing after their debut. you either go viral somehow or you go home. to make money, the only acceptable projects are generic or are recognizable rehashes of previously popular but specific ideas. fantasy is considered a popular genre now, but in my opinion, fantasy has never stopped being niche, but the need to find bigger audiences and bigger investment has resulted in pushing fantasy series that don't do anything new or interesting and actively spurn good prose, but can appeal to as many people as possible (instead of weird fantasy freaks, aka me, i'm freaks, now most of the freaky fantasy i can find is in video games and a single tear is rolling down my face)

now tv. buffy the vampire slayer cost about 1-2 million per episode. star trek tng cost 1 million per episode

look where we’re at with streaming services. tv shows that cost millions and tens of millions of dollars per episode. the sopranos redefined what prestige tv meant and it cost 2-6 million per episode. chasing the new prestige mindset, game of thrones started out at 6 million per episode. today, early game of thrones’ budget from about 2011-2013 is joked about like it’s chump change, especially for game of thrones or hbo. but prestige tv reeled in that subscriber money. the streaming model today is the continuation of the prestige tv model, except that every show needs to be prestige, no matter the audience or genre or story structure. because prestige tv made money

now that the baseline model for helping your subscription/channel make money is to throw 6 million+ per episode, it's no longer a mystery why seasons are getting shorter and shorter. and the demand for higher and higher production will only mean that shows take longer and longer to make

netflix shelled out 6 million per episode - what an oddly familiar number, huh? - for stranger things season 1. season 4 cost 30 million per episode

wheel of time season 1: 10 million per episode. rings of power season 1: 58 million per episode. these are adaptations btw, not original IPs, but this is SEASON ONE money you’re looking at. i liked both rings of power and wheel of time decently, but my hot take is that both of these shows are under-written and over-produced. why so much money thrown at projects with writers at the helm who are inexperienced in the fantasy genre? rings of power in particular is bank-breaking and it was originally planned to run for several seasons

the mandalorian season 1: 15 million per episode. andor season 1: 20 million per episode. the acolyte season 1: 22 million per episode

remember that the subscription model requires subscribers to make money and requires NEW subscribers to satisfy the hunger for growth, and star wars is a single IP with established fans. the mandalorian, andor, and the acolyte all took major risks in different ways. the mandalorian actually fell back on star wars fundamentals (rather than being something net new in my opinion) and its risk was in being a show, not a movie, and the first of its kind on streaming for star wars

andor could be the riskiest fantasy/sci-fi show to hit streaming, ever. 12 episodes for season 1 that cost 250 million overall, not 6-8, explores marxist themes, and did not pull in new subscribers. what popularity it does have is purely due to word-of-mouth and plain old good writing, rather than marketing or by simply being part of star wars. it was originally going to be 5 seasons but is now going to be 2 because... 250 million dollars is a lot to spend on one season of television that didn't make you a lot of money. simple as that, even if andor is the best live-action thing disney has produced in decades in my opinion

the acolyte season 1 was 8 episodes and cost 22 million per episode, which armchair critics on social media are stating is the reason why the show has been canceled. haters will just say it was canceled because of bad writing, and fans are saying it was because of review-bombing and the diversity of the cast and crew

i disagree on some level that the acolyte is the first star wars show to be canceled, because again, andor was going to be 5 seasons and is now going to be 2, losing over 50% of the original story. even fans of the acolyte will agree that its writing wasn't the best. most fans who have seen andor will agree that it is the best-written star wars media ever on par with the best episodes of clone wars. both shows brought me over to disney plus when no other show or movie did

but in effect, both shows have been canceled

my take is that if a mid list existed, both shows should have been on it. they are part of an established IP with established fans who were going to watch the shows no matter what. most people with star wars fatigue would not have heard about the uniqueness of these shows until later and would have probably picked them up by their finales or by their season 2s

if they were not star wars properties and were original stories instead, both of these shows were still fairly unique doing things that appeal to "weird" subsets of sci-fi/fantasy fans. the mid list would have been perfect either way

i firmly believe that a mid list would have saved both of these shows. 6 million per episode MAXIMUM. ideally less. not because i dislike either show, but because i care about writing above all else. pay 1 writers room a fair wage and let them go fucking nuts for a few seasons. as long as everyone else in the production is being paid a fair and living wage, i don't care how little is spent on the show

stranger things should have been a mid-list anthology series that ran forever, wheel of time should have been a mid-list tv fantasy with at least 12 episodes per season to do any justice to those massive books but also to pay homage to the book series' roots as high fantasy that goes on and on without much of a plan and with often mid and sometimes junky writing but with appeal in that it was long-running, made readers familiar with the same characters every book for many hundreds of pages each, and is something of a comfort read now for many fans

i think that reality is catching up to streaming services and things are going to get worse before they get better

but i also think that the next "evolution" of tv should be the return of the mid list

[axellis-archv-2]

a moment abt overhalliday if you dont mind but its in the tags bc im embarrassed sowwy..

[thepoetrytheorist]

If you love Disney, its parks, its media, and its merch, listen up.

So I work for Disneyland, and we are talking about striking very soon. So soon, in fact, that we've been hosting rallies just outside of the parks. Yesterday was the 69th birthday of Disneyland Anaheim... it was also a monumental rally.

I haven't seen anyone on tumblr talking about the impending strikes against Disney. Not even going through the Disney tags or searching tumblr for "Disneyland Strike."

Let's talk about why we're striking:

Cost of living in the immediate SoCal region is nearly 2x as much as we are getting paid.

Cast members that have worked for the company for long periods of time are still paid as mucha s new hires.

Disney has showed up to union negotiations with insulting offers, including at 25 cent raise. Most cast members make $19.90

Disney rarely schedules you. In some areas and departments, you are fighting with your fellow cast members for hours. I have heard of cast members who are only scheduled for 1 4-hour shift per week. Many of those cast members have upwards of an hour commute to and from work.

Disney Admin has told attractions castmembers [so: rides, rollercoasters, and anything fun you get to do and see at the parks] that we are losing them money, which is why they refuse to schedule us and pay us. In the words of my partner, who also works at the parks, Disney without attractions is an over glorified mall and a food court. Disney needs us, and they know it, but they do not respect us.

Disney has an unfair attendance policy. It can be very difficult to get a needed day off, even when it has been requested weeks or months in advance. When you do take a day off [with-out accrued sick or vacation time] it counts against you. You can have 3 a month, 6 in 90 days, 9 in 180 days, or 12 in a year. How do you accrue sick/vacation? Hours worked, which can be impossible with the scheduling practices mentioned above. (Most cast members trade shifts among themselves to get around this.)

Cast members feel unsafe and unsupported in the parks. Many cast members have felt threatened by entitled guests upset that they are following policy. Disney Leads and Managers have to say yes to these guests and make things happen, though. [Which only makes this behavior worse and more dangerous for cast members who are only doing their job.]

Cast members also report feeling threatened, or even being literally threatened, by management in the parks. Especially cast members who have a second job. Especially cast members who know their rights.

Further, cast members work in hazardous conditions with pay that does not reflect that. Many cast members report losses of hearing, sore throats, and severe back and shoulder pain. Cast members are also exposed to infectious diseases at a much higher rate.

https://www.sfgate.com/disneyland/article/union-button-contract-dispute-19515296.php?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR2u5o_mvU3i6jpIyHxBUZpEzD2GRSKFf5Pem4uRXqa6vKWDgZuffvINd1g_aem_AA1L0fI1phugJIluYMcDSw

[wellourgerdes]

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Chauffeur Service London Per Hour Are you looking for a chauffeur-driven vehicle for a few hours or a day trip? There’s nowhere else to look. Hourly hire that is both flexible and convenient is offered. You have control when there are no hidden fees and clear pricing.   Chauffeur service London per hour, a flexible transportation option on an hourly basis, is provided by Crony Chauffeur…

[portaloohirecosts]

Navigating Convenience: The World of Local Toilet Hire

Imagine you're hosting a lively outdoor event with friends and family, or you're managing a bustling construction site with workers hustling to meet deadlines. In both scenarios, there's one essential need that often gets overlooked until it's urgently required – a restroom. That's when you might wonder, "Is there local toilet hire available near me?" Well, you're in the right place. In this extensive guide, we're about to dive into the world of local toilet hire services in the United States. Think of it as embarking on a journey to discover the perfect portable restroom solution right in your neighborhood.

The Portable Power of Toilets

Before we get into the nitty-gritty of finding local toilet hire services, let's take a moment to appreciate the pivotal role portable restrooms play in our lives.

Unsung Heroes of Convenience

Portable toilets, often lovingly referred to as "porta-potties," are the unsung heroes of outdoor events, construction sites, and various other situations. They're like the humble guardians of hygiene, providing essential facilities where traditional plumbing is nowhere in sight.

Pro Tip: Portable toilets are the reason outdoor events and remote job sites can operate smoothly, without compromising on sanitation.

Convenience Wherever You Need It

What's truly remarkable about portable toilets is their convenience. They're like a lifeline for situations where a permanent restroom isn't an option:

Special Events: From weddings and concerts to festivals and sports events, portable toilets ensure that attendees can comfortably answer nature's call.

Construction Sites: Construction workers rely on portable restrooms to maintain productivity without leaving the job site.

Emergency Situations: In disaster relief efforts and emergency response situations, portable toilets play a crucial role in maintaining sanitation and preventing the spread of disease.

Now that we've acknowledged the importance of portable toilets, let's dive into the process of finding local toilet hire services near you.

The Quest for Nearby Toilet Hire

The convenience of having portable toilets nearby is invaluable. Whether you're an event organizer, a construction manager, or just someone in need of temporary restroom facilities, having local toilet hire services close at hand offers numerous advantages.

The Power of Proximity

Why search for "local toilet hire near me"? Here are some compelling reasons:

Cost-Effective: Renting portable toilets locally often means lower delivery and pickup costs, as you're not paying for extensive transportation.

Accessibility: Having portable toilets nearby means easy access for maintenance and cleaning, ensuring they remain in good condition throughout your event or project.

Quick Response: Local providers can respond promptly in case of issues or the need for additional units, reducing the risk of disruptions.

With the power of proximity in mind, let's navigate the terrain of finding local toilet hire services.

Assessing Your Portable Toilet Needs

Before you set out on your quest for local toilet hire, it's crucial to assess your specific requirements. It's akin to packing for a trip – you need to know what you need. Here's what you should consider:

1. Event or Project Type

What's the nature of your event or project? Is it a large outdoor wedding, a construction site, or something else? Identifying the primary purpose will guide your choice.

2. Expected Attendance or Usage

Estimate the number of people who will be using the portable toilets and how frequently. This will help determine the quantity of units you require.

3. Accessibility and Location

Consider the layout of your event or job site. Ensure that the portable toilets are strategically placed for easy access while not interfering with the flow of your event or work.

4. Special Requirements

Are there any specific needs, such as ADA-compliant units for accessibility, or units with handwashing stations for enhanced hygiene? Identifying these requirements is essential for a seamless experience.

Finding Your Local Toilet Hire Provider

Now that you've defined your requirements, it's time to embark on your quest to find a local toilet hire service. Think of it as a treasure hunt in your own backyard. Here's your roadmap:

1. Online Search

Initiate your quest with a simple online search. Use keywords like "local toilet hire near me" or "portable restroom rentals in my area." Including your city or region in the search can yield more precise results.

2. Local Directories

Don't underestimate the value of local business directories. Websites like Yelp, Yellow Pages, and Angie's List often provide useful information about nearby toilet hire providers, including customer reviews and ratings.

3. Personal Network

Leverage your personal network – ask friends, family, colleagues, and acquaintances for recommendations. Personal endorsements can be invaluable in finding reputable local providers.

4. Online Reviews

Once you've identified potential providers, invest time in reading online reviews. Feedback from previous customers can offer insights into a provider's reputation, reliability, and customer service.

5. Contact Multiple Providers

Avoid settling for the first option you come across. Reach out to multiple providers and inquire about their services, pricing, and availability. This will allow you to make informed comparisons.

Evaluating Your Toilet Hire Options

As you engage with potential toilet hire providers, think of it as conducting interviews to find your ideal partner. Here are key questions to ask during your evaluation:

How long have you been providing toilet hire services in this area?

Experience is valuable. Providers with local expertise can better navigate challenges and deliver prompt service.

Do you have the necessary equipment and expertise to meet my specific event or project needs?

Ensure the provider can accommodate your unique requirements, whether it's a large-scale festival or a small construction site.

Can you provide references or customer testimonials?

Hearing about past experiences can instill confidence in your choice, much like checking references for a job candidate.

What is your pricing structure, and are there any hidden costs?

Transparent pricing is essential. Avoid unpleasant surprises when it comes to billing.

What sanitation and maintenance measures do you have in place?

Hygiene is paramount. Ensure that the provider follows strict cleaning and maintenance protocols for their units.

The Final Leg of Your Journey

Once you've made your choice and selected the ideal local toilet hire provider, it's time for the final leg of your journey. Think of it as opening the treasure chest you've been searching for. Here's what to expect:

1. Booking and Scheduling

Work with your chosen provider to book your portable toilets and establish a clear schedule. Be sure to communicate any specific timing requirements.

2. Placement and Setup

Before your event or project begins, coordinate with the provider to ensure proper placement and setup of the portable toilets. Consider factors like accessibility and proximity to water sources for handwashing stations.

3. Maintenance and Cleaning

During your event or project, the provider should handle regular cleaning and maintenance to ensure the units remain in good condition. This includes restocking supplies like toilet paper and hand sanitizer.

[djensenphotography]

D Jensen Photography

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[mintbees]

One thing that keeps confusing me is that they claim ghost files costs several hundreds of thousands of dollars per season. I’ve tried to wrap my head around this ever since the announcement because flying a crew of 6 or so people out for two days and renting out the location COULD NOT be costing that much unless they’re either lying or blowing money on first class flights and expensive food/accommodations and even THEN do I not see them breaking 100k on a single episode. Dear lord hire an accountant I’m half convinced someone’s laundering money

[janumun]

A Relentless Conquest (LaDS Sylus - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 10.7k Pairing: Sylus/Reader

Tags: dueling (Sylus fighting), semi-public sex, oral and vaginal sex, Sylus’s brand of manhandling, dry humping, praising, dirty talk, rough sex, wander in wonder AU/historical AU, based in ancient Mongolia, creampie, size difference, mild rich/poor class power dynamics

Summary: What happens when you end up catching the unwanted attentions of a sleazy magistrate on a day out in town? A duel for your honor — or lifelong imprisonment — is what awaits you. That is, until Sylus, leader of the exceedingly notorious Onychinus gang, and a man you dub reluctantly, an old acquaintance, intervenes and offers the immoral magistrate a deal he cannot refuse.

[A fic where Sylus engages in a precarious duel in order to free you from the clutches of a corrupt high official; wins the duel AND the prize at stake, you.]  

Author’s Notes: The things the Wander in Wonder trailer did to me were unspeakable, I had to get started on this fic right away. Another long monstrosity so it took me quite a while to hammer it out smoothly. Some terms used within, to note: *tögrögs is an old Mongolian currency and *Lungtang is the Mongolian city used loosely within this fic’s setting, as per Sylus’s alleged outfit inspiration drawn from the Mongol’s hunting fit in the current event, “Wander in Wonder” . An amazing twitter thread for the rest of the inspirations drawn for the boys’ outfits can be found here. 

Link to Ao3

Perhaps you should’ve considered your course of action through before you’d tossed yourself voluntarily into the metaphorical den of lions. Caleb did always tease you for your often impudent ways, declaring you’d get yourself into hot water someday.   

You didn’t quite think past saving the small, unfortunate child in front, when he’d careened straight into the Magistrate, staining the sickly bone white of his gaudy robes with the treat he’d been brandishing in hand. An action of careless innocence that could’ve saddled the boy with a severe punishment of thrashings at best. And at worst —   

You didn’t even wish to entertain the horrifying notion.   

You whisper a quick note of warning to the trembling child in your arms before he’s nodding his assent, making a clean dash away from the Magistrate and his burly procession of hired cronies. They do not move to stop him; the official’s beady eyes sweeping cursory across his fleeing figure before he focuses upon you once more.   

“Well then, speak up, girl. How do you plan on making up for the crimes of the filthy criminal you just let escape?” He leers at you, sending a frisson of disgust through your veins. “I do not mind much, provided you are able to compensate me in full.” He holds up two thick, swollen fingers. “two thousand tögrögs.” Your stomach revolts in near horror at the exorbitant price he names.   

“Speak, lass, do you possess the means to compensate me?”  

“...Apologies, Sire, I do not.”  

The Magistrate clicks his tongue at you, as if that son of a cur had not already anticipated your answer; your garb alone giving away your status as a mere commoner while he stood, a tall, foolish braggart of a Magistrate, who’d been a constant source of worry amongst the townsfolk as of late. “What a pity. I guess we shall have to make you pay off with what you do have on person, shan’t we?”   

His eyes rove down the length of your body in a manner greasy enough, it has your fingers itching to claw them out of his skull. Thoughts of the consequences of your actions extending to your family after — your grandmother and Caleb — are what stay your hands, firm by your side. You try and maintain that demure grace firm within your body instead.  

“What else are we to do if she cannot pay for what she has cost me, yes?” The Magistrate flourishes his arms wide and turns, towards the crowd that has gathered to watch, setting the stage for his perverse demands. “An eye for an eye, an honor exchanged for honor; that is the Law of our Lungtang, is it not?”  

None of the commonfolk dare to speak against the tyrant’s words, lest they make of themselves a new target to harass. And you do not blame them either, the burden of your reckless actions, yours to bear alone.   

The man trundles forwards on heavy steps; the large, ugly stain left across his robes growing wider in your lowered line of sight before the expanse of his bloated, sweating hand fills your field of vision. The rings around his fingers, nearly engorging the base of them as he curls his hand about your jaw to heave your gaze up towards him.   

The ugly, toad-like sweep of his tongue against the top row of black and gold teeth has a chill skittering down your spine. “You’re rather lovely, you know that?” He croaks in a low, creeping voice.   

You bite harsh into your bottom lip to revolt against the bile that threatens to reflux past your throat and onto the bastard’s face. “What say you become my whore then, dearest? I’d treat you very...” A slimy slip of the hand down the expanse of your body, to settle at your hip. “ well . And if you please me, you could even climb the ranks and become first Mistress, you know?” You judder at the stench of his breath, nearly in your face now. Unable to help the revulsion he inspires in you and you know; the cur in front takes it for a show of abashed innocence, with the way his leer stretches wider across his face.   

“I am far too plain and discourteous for a man of your stature, my lord. If there is anything else I could do for you in recompense, I would be more than delighted to offer my services.” The words uttered, sit sickly sweet on your tongue. “I have a good arm on me and can do any physical labor you may require of me.”   

The rat makes a show of deliberating your words. “It’s a pity the only ‘physical labor’ I require of you lies within my bed, dear girl.”   

You visibly recoil from his revolting touch at your arm; perhaps you aren’t able to quite keep your emotions from surfacing upon your face this time round as the man grabs at your forearm tighter, gaze darkening in simmering displeasure.   

“You know the law, woman. If you wish to run scot-free without offering anything in return, you must put your life on the line and agree to a duel with the offended party.” He chucks a thick, swollen thumb back at his minions, voice seething into a threatening octave. “And I wouldn’t suggest that unless you want them to crush that pretty face of yours.”  

You consider ending it all; cutting the bastard open for him to choke in a pool of his own gurgling blood. You think you could do it too, before his bodyguards could get to you.  

And with the loss of their Master, they wouldn’t be able to hold you prisoner within the dungeons for too long: you hoped. The stray, wild thought is all you can see within your vision.   

Your hand twitches for the dagger fastened right beneath your satchel, one Caleb had lent you for protection. Fingers barely grazing against the polished hilt of the blade, cobbling together courage to see your mad plan through.   

Before large, thick digits are slipping against yours to halt — a fleeting touch of caution — from behind, fracturing your hasty plan entirely.  

You’re barely able to comprehend the sudden, unnoticed proximity of your interloper, before a great arm is coiling fast about the expanse of your waist, snatching you swift from the Magistrate’s claws and firm against a warm, broad chest.  

“Now, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” The well-known burr, welcome, in that moment stirs joy within your belly as you reach to crane your neck to meet eyes with that familiar scarlet.  

“Sylus.” You croak in near disbelief.   

He exhales, low, against the shell of your ear, before he slowly lets go of you. “I’m away from Lungtang for a mere fortnight, only to find you scrounging for trouble, upon return.”   

Your irritation might’ve flared at his words if not for the phlegmy clearing of the Magistrate’s throat in front.   

“And who do you think you are to touch my property so carelessly, insolent fool?”  

Your ire directed from the man behind to the bastard in front. You feel Sylus’ hand soothe a flex about your shoulder.   

“My bad, honoured Magistrate.” He sweeps an insouciant palm at him, the grin upon his face edged to a dagger’s point. “We did not think you would be gracing Lungtang so soon with your noble presence. Or we might’ve arranged for a far better reception, for your Grace.”  

Each word that slips past Sylus’ lips is a sarcasm heavy barb that turns the official’s face in front purple with each syllable uttered. “That woman owes me, you dog. I shall make her my mistress, as is only fair I extract proper recompense from her for her grave offense.”  

One of the Magistrate’s men behind scamper forward in that moment to whisper urgently into his ear. The official’s eyes nearly burst out of his sockets at whatever he’s learned, wide toady gaze skittering towards Sylus as if he is indeed a rabid beast that would bite if disturbed.   

He thrusts an accusatory finger at him. “You are the Onychinus’ leader.” He spits. “That gang of lawless hounds.”  

Sylus’s mouth quirk into a vicious smile at the allegation. “That I am.”   

“You— you,” The Magistrate seems to sputter for the space of several moments before the man at his side mutters something else into his ear.   

The official straightens at whatever he’s heard, clearing his throat, once. Twice. “I am willing to pardon your crimes.” He begins once more. “Provided you can prove yourself worthy in a duel against one of my men.” The crowd around you breaks into quiet murmurs. “But,” he continues. “if you lose, Onychinus dog, then along with your little woman, you shall give up your life to my service, your autonomous tyranny within these lands shall cease to exist and you shall follow my sole command.” He pauses for a moment’s breath, as if to let the weight of what he believes to have been a devastating challenge, sink in.   

But all he earns from Sylus is a raised brow. “Sounds like a deal. Let us raise the stakes, though, shall we?” He cocks his head at the procession of guards right behind the Magistrate. “I’ll take on all your men, not just your best. Give you a real crutch to get started with.”   

The crowd of onlookers erupts into gasps of surprise and gibbering discussion amidst the concerning blue coloring the Magistrate’s face at the taunt. You desperately clutch at Sylus’s arm. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”  

He meets your wide-eyed panicked gaze with a cool, gentle one of his own. “Calm yourself down, kitten. I’ll be fine.” A large hand, he places gentle at your head in reassurance but all it does instead is send your alarm flaring higher.   

What had you roped the man into? Infuriating though he was. Sylus was a confounding acquaintance of years; you could not help be lured into irritation any time he were around — a man whose companionship you’d come to cherish in begrudging gratitude over your time together — but this is not what you’d wanted.   

Your reeling thoughts fractured by the screeching Magistrate in front. “You think you’re all that, you shameless scoundrel? Oh, you’re just a man and I’ll make sure they break your limbs, bone by excruciating bone, before we drag you bloodied and defeated, to my estate.” He spits the time of the duel to be held tomorrow in that same fury before he’s turning on you both and trudging back off to where he came from, his procession of cronies falling along right in line.   

And you’re left behind, with the metallic poison of your regret within your mouth and bone deep worry within your body as you stare up at Sylus’s form.   

The next day arrives much too soon, even as sleep evades you through the entirety of your night, spent tossing onto much too warm sheets.   

Now, having dragged yourself to dress and prepare yourself for the dreaded day, you trudge out of your home, chancing a brief, longing look upon the humble place over your shoulder, in case it were truly your last.   

You hadn’t divulged the details of your itinerary for the day — which possibly entailed getting sold into slavery to a sleazy official, by the time noon rolled in — to Grandmother or Caleb and you preferred it remain that way for as long as possible. Your Grandmother was coming along in her years, with weakened nerves now and Caleb tended to be a frightful worrywart in matters concerning you.   

“Someone’s starting the day rather early. That eager to see me fight, are you, kitten?” The familiar voice beckons. You toss a raised brow over your shoulder at your previously truant neighbour, now returned — his house having settled long vacant in his absence, over the course of his journey to Gods knew where. And the root cause of all your fretting; Sylus moves to join you by your side in two easy strides.  

“Don’t you even dare try joke about it, you absolute madman,” you mutter darkly under your breath, reaching to knock a fist against the side of his torso.   

The same old routine you tumble into, with him; you aren’t able to tamp yourself back from biting into the man as soon as he’s in your sights; the only person capable of wrenching out your honest, most reflexive reactions. And you hate the ease with which this incendiary of a man manages to drag them out of you.   

“What took over you to throw that offer out at that bastard, when you all but had a nice, even playing field to yourself? Now you’re just—” Your mouth snaps shut against the rest of your words, bitterly swallowed.   

How did you even begin to disentangle your bunched feelings on the matter? You knew how all of Lungtang chanted the tales of the fearsome Onychinus head. A conundrum of a man with a reputation as daunting as his influential mien, one that never failed to instil the fear of God in lesser men; criminals and bandits, who sought to rob their small town on the rare luckless occasion — dubbed this obscure town’s own Warrior God.   

But to you, he was also just Sylus; the man you’d grown in close proximity to since your late teenage years and a person you’d grown to care for in the natural course of your odd tug-and-push relationship.   

And though you remained constantly wary of the type of people Sylus associated with, in his particular line of work — a job you did not wish for, to bring even a modicum of harm onto your family by association with him, you could not help the restless agitation that needled at you each time Sylus left home, sometimes for weeks on end, on any number of his covert expeditions.  

And each time he did, the very nagging, unwelcome thought intruded, that perhaps this time he might not make it home.   

“Are you worried for me right now, kitten?” Sylus’s airy query breaks through your reverie, your gaze leaping to find his, fixated firm on you. Those scarlet eyes seem to lose part of their mirth at the face you’re sure you’re pulling.   

You tear your gaze away first, choosing to watch the path you two trek on, instead. “Of course, I’m worried. What a silly thing to ask.” A muted wisp of words.   

Ones that spark an immediate stroke of mild discomfiture at the admission; you prattle on before he can speak. “I know you’re strong, I know that. But just you against what — 13 or 14 grown men? More if that bastard intends on killing you. Anyone with half a wit and eye can see it’s a self-slaughtering mission from yards away. I don’t understand—” your indignant voice breaks, to throttle in much needed air into breath parched lungs. “I just don’t understand why you’d do that. I don’t understand you.”    

Help me figure out what you’re thinking; are the words you wish to speak but your voice refuses to assist.  

Sylus hums a low, throaty sound; in admission that he’s heard you.   

And then he opens his mouth to speak. Divulging a ‘reason’ that makes no sense to your muddled mind, simple though his words are. “That cad disrespected you.” Garnet tips your way to meet your surprised gaze. “That’s reason enough, is it not?”   

“I—”  

“Don’t fret anymore.” he continues. “I won't lose, you have my word.” Long, tapered digits brush gentle at your temple, in reassurance of your worries. “And once I’m done with that weasel, he won’t ever be capable of crawling within a mile of you, let alone dare a finger your way again.”   

The confession, sudden and honest, spurts warmth within your chest that readily clambers up your cheeks and floods down into your belly. A knot pulled tight within seeming to relax just that bit, in comfort of his words. Truly, he confounds you; this odd, beautiful man.   

You capture his fingers against yours in an insistent hold, halting him in his tracks. “You better keep your promise to me, Sylus,” you speak, meeting his gaze, firm on yours. “Do not forget the prize that’s at stake here. You'll come out of there, victorious. I won’t afford you any other options, you hear me?”   

A pleased grin edges across that beautiful mouth, skewing it wider. He angles forward, so that garnet gaze is level against yours. Flexing the catch of his digits in between yours before he’s sweeping your hand towards his parted mouth in a fleeting brush of lips against your knuckles. “If it is my victory the Lady commands, so it shall be done.” He elaborates, a mild tickled inflection to his thick baritone.   

You disregard his little jibing use of the title for this one instance; his solemn promise you know he’s sealed to you; in the gentle grip of your fingers against his, garnet that refuses to stray until you see the resolve of his vow settle within that gaze too.   

By the time your deliberately protracted journey finds its end at the arena, edging the outskirts of Lungtang, the Magistrate along with his chosen warriors are already there, positioned and waiting by the great stone pillars of the vast grounds.   

The coming fight having attracted the townspeople to turn up in droves to watch the weaselly Magistrate take on their best warrior — hordes of curious eyes you feel boring into the two of you as you make your way towards where the Magistrate awaits.   

“Here you are. Any later and I might’ve started considering you’d fled with your tail in between your legs.” The Magistrate crows out loud. “After all, my men shall soon prove how Lungtang’s criminal they so falsely worship as a hero, is more bark than bite.” The swarm of brutes — big and terrifyingly bulky — he’s brought along, laugh at their Master’s goading.   

Sylus, however, remains unperturbed. “Is that so? I can’t wait to find out,” he responds, scrubbing an insouciant hand through his hair.   

His apathetic response seems to key the Magistrate’s ire even higher, sputtering his rage at him. “Y-You absolute— you imbecile. I will crush you.” Creeping a hand forward for you now, “I’ll hold the girl with me. We might as well quicken ourselves, in preparation for when you inevitably fall and watch me claim my rightful prize.”   

You steel yourself against the touch, palm rising to curb his approach with a polite denial but your companion is swifter; large hand darting forth to curl a harsh fist against the official’s greasy wrist.   

“No.” Sylus speaks, voice a low, lethal burr you haven’t ever heard from him before. “I don’t think you will, Sire.” Whatever it is the foolish Magistrate discerns within your companion’s steady gaze, has him flinching in visible fright at the sight, sweat beading wide across his pale, swollen face.  

He wrenches his wrist from Sylus’s grip, as if scathed just as you angle a curious look up at the Onychinus head; his face an impassive mask — hardly unusual — before it breaks into the tiny quirk of a self-assured grin when he catches you watching.  

The Magistrate yelps in frustration, turning in on a ferocious heel. “D-Do not waste my time any longer than you have.” Barking the rest of his words; he heads toward the makeshift dais he’s had set up for himself at the edge of the ring. “Come onto the fields now so we can commence the match.”  

“Sylus,” you place a hand at his arm to stall. “Duck down for a moment.”   

He raises a careful brow at you and you think he’s going to refuse for a moment but then he surprises you in the wordless, compliant drop of his head close to yours. Allowing your eyes to trace his features; those familiar scarlet eyes steady against yours, the slope of his broad nose, sweeping into the bow of full, slightly scraped lips.   

You realize you trust this man and what he’s offered you, whole-heartedly. And so, you wish to extend the same sentiment, reaching for the precious beads adorning your neck — an heirloom from your late parents, your most prized possession.   

Plucking it up and over your head in between cautious digits before you reach to place it about his neck instead. Leaving part of your most priceless gift with him, just as you’ve decided to entrust him with both your Fates. “A charm,” you clarify, “for good luck. It has been my most invaluable escort and has kept me safe all these years.”   

Sylus mutely treks delicate fingers across the worn beads of the chain, grasping it in between a loose fist, in acceptance of your faith.  

“Return it to me once you’ve won.” You tell him, rapping a firm fist against the leather guard at his chest.   

Large, warm digits move to curve about yours, gripping your fist against himself. “As if I could turn down such a heartfelt request, sweetheart.” A spirited grin tugs at his features.  “I’ll bring your little treasure back to you in one piece.”   

“Good, I’ll wait for it.” You respond. “Now, go out there and show them the might of our Warrior God.”  

The Magistrate flourishes open an official scrolled document, no doubt detailing the terms of their duel as soon as Sylus shifts to take position within the field, on opposing side of the assembly of his hired goons.   

You move to occupy a place up front, to stand among the vast gathered crowd, observing the proceedings as the Magistrate clutches the scroll up into the air and begins to drone out the conditions of the fight and the prize at stake — your belly stirs in nausea — you . “The duel shall be declared closed when all members of a party have been knocked unconscious; or killed, under the rare, unfortunate circumstance.” His beady eyes rove Sylus’s way. “Any objections?”  

Sylus shrugs the question off entirely in the flex of an arm against his chest, in preparation of the duel. “Let us not waste our time debating inanity now, as you said earlier. Commence the fight.”   

The Magistrate’s face colours a foul purple — you hope he may truly burst — but all he does is spew a cold, curt, “Begin.”  

The arena hurtles into instantaneous chaos, along with the crowd’s rousing cheers and gasps of terrified delight as the Magistrate’s cronies hound Sylus all at once. Your body hunching forward on reflex to watch as the first set of blows streak straight for Sylus’s face but he ducks down with an agility, unusual to a man of his stature.   

He catches two of the oncoming blows against his palms. Jamming his fists tight about their wrists before he contorts them sideways in a dull crackle of bone. The men immediately buckle to their knees in an agony of groans, their peers stepping over their fallen companions after, to grab for their opponent who springs out of their way, as if dancing the men around, with a noose placed about their grappling bodies.  

A sharp jab comes right for Sylus’s side after, the crony tries and lands a hit against his ribs; the latter’s grasp flexing about his arm to break his momentum, wrenching him close into his body. Before Sylus jostles his elbow harsh into the man’s back.   

Two men lunge for Sylus, aiming for his blind spot; your scraped call of warning lost amidst the thunderous din of the crowds as Sylus rounds upon his assailants. Grabbing the man he has on hand, fingers fisting tight into his garb before he hurls him onto the approaching minions, with a force violent enough, the three go bowling straight into the dirt.   

The crowd’s cheer is raucous; wild as the grin that splits wide across Sylus’s face as he stretches his body tall to full length. “Come now, that’s surely not all of what you’ve got for me.” Sweat barely beginning to make itself known across the firm muscled expanse of his arms, his torso. He's hardly out of breath while his opponents gawk at him as if cornered against a rabid beast.   

Your heart thrills in unexpected, startled pleasure to witness the strange, sensuous virility to his almost savage visage as he paces forward on swift, easy steps, within the ring.   

You’d always known Sylus to hold a rich charisma compacted within that strong personality; an ability to entice all he came into contact with. A brilliant, perceptive mind along with that tacit, undeterred will; he’d brought flourishing business booming within Lungtang over his period of unofficial rule of the place. The uncrowned Onychinus King and a fearsome warrior; the first time you’d truly stood witness to what he was capable of, outside of devious negotiations, professional and unalike.   

And to know, it was for you that he stood in that place now, socking down enemies with the streak of a great, terrifying beast that had your heart skittering within your chest and your blood thrumming within your ears, alongside the adrenaline roiling through your veins. He truly was an infuriatingly perfect man.   

You joined your voice to the shouts of encouragement rolling off the townspeople, in waves for their Warrior God just as Sylus brings an opponent down to his knees with a violent sweep of his knee to his torso.   

“Enough!” You hear the squeaked, enraged bellow of the Magistrate as he watches the proceedings with an increasingly incensed face. Whipping his reddening face towards the crowd to shake a threatening fist at them. “Quiet down before I have you all thrown into the dungeons!”   

But the townsfolk refuse to relent; their cheers rising to a deafening roar as the Magistrate nearly tumbles out of his seat to thrust a trembling finger at the ring as Sylus tosses another of his men over his shoulder to taste the ground at his feet . The attendants at his side scamper towards the arena at once. A quick, urgent rush of communication seems to pass in between the attendants and Sylus’s remaining opponents. Before the servants are tossing weapons into the ring, ones the cronies lunge for as soon as they hit the field. Rising slow once more as they brandish their newly obtained unfair advantage at an unarmed Sylus.  

A great wave of shock and indignance passes over the crowd just as you push past the row of onlookers to jostle yourself to the very front. “Hey! This was not among the rules!” You shout at the Magistrate. A sentiment the rest of the crowd joins you in mirroring but all it earns you is an insouciant shrug from the bastard, shedding any remaining responsibility of hosting a fair fight against Sylus. “And the rules didn’t indicate the participants were not allowed the use of tools at their disposal either. The opposing party’s principal should’ve brought his own if he wished for one, as well.”  

“That’s not—” Your voice breaks in agonised distress just as the Magistrate turns away from you entirely to press his rotund body back into the comfort of his seat to watch his laid-out massacre once more. Son of a cur.   

“Sylus!” You try and yell for his attention amongst the horrified cries of the crowd. “ Sylus, you don’t have to fight anymore! Get out of there, now! Sylus . ”  

His gaze sweeps over the mass of spectators for that one split moment, as if foraging for yours. Until it seems to find and fixate upon you, his mouth forming slow shape over words you cannot hear but understand on instinct, “Stay right there.”  

Your heart leaps and slams violent against the back of your breastbone with the crowd’s rising screams, just as a hefty brute lunges for Sylus; a battle axe heaved high above his head to strike a killing blow.   

The first cleave of the blade, Sylus avoids, to the tumbling pummel of your frenzied nerves. The man’s fervent swings, he dodges left and right. Avoiding another enemy’s assault with a dagger aimed straight for his gut; Sylus streaks the side of his palm flat onto his wrist in a hit vicious enough, the knife goes flying out of his grasp to stick, hilt-up, useless onto the ground. Before Sylus pummels a heavy fist into the assailant’s face, plastering him down onto the ground.   

The metallic chains of a flail come streaking for him, just as he side-steps past another heavy swing of the axe, catching the iron fetters of it harsh against his wrist. He ducks close into the enemy, manoeuvring the momentum of his attack into his own advantage, to wrench the man harsh into the fist he rams straight into his gut. Tumbling him sideways into the ground, unconscious.  

The bulldozing axe wielding maniac, now in close proximity, careens straight for Sylus on a fervent bellow, sweeping a blow straight for his head. Sylus seizes his last standing opponent’s assault against the strength of a muscled forearm. Catching the brunt of the axe’s hilt at it before he shoves back on a ferocious, inhuman show of force.   

Sylus, your heart hammers, lips forming shape over the syllables of his name in urgent prayer.   

The momentum of the wide, stone blade pushed back in such violence, sends the wielder staggering back with the weight of it; Sylus turning that precious moment of weakness to his benefit as he lunges straight for his neck, seizing it within a thick fist. The core muscles of his arm, rippling with the force with which Sylus hauls him off his feet entirely to drive the man down onto the ground with a vicious snarl.   

The combatant stops moving immediately, knocked out cold on the dirt; Sylus rising slow onto his feet as he stares at the man, chest heaving with the efforts of his strenuous exertion.   

A grave’s quietude slumps across the gathered crowd for several, tense moments.   

And then shatters into raucous chaos as the Conqueror of the duel is cheered to the high heavens; Sylus’s grin, wide and daunting, as he shifts off his fallen opponent, scrubbing a large hand back through sweat soaked locks as he starts ambling over toward the edge of your side of the arena.   

And your heart — your silly little heart — soars from its place within your chest and out for him, the high of his victory, as if it were your own, throbbing brutal within your blood.   

Before you know or comprehend it, your legs are moving; pushing past the crowds of onlookers, the wooden slates of your sandals skidding at dirt, as you fly across the ring toward Sylus. Your gaze entirely filled with your brilliant warrior’s expression shifting into surprise as you hurtle into him. And Sylus — that big, beautiful man understands — catches your careening body within his embrace; your momentum, he breaks against a half-swivel about his heel. Large, warm arms come tight about your body, wordless, without a question uttered, to seclude you further into that private space; just for you both in that moment.   

Your arms stretching about the thick expanse of his neck as you hold on hard to him; Sylus’s low exhale you feel warm gently, into the crescent of your neck as he sinks into you. The people, his duel; none of it matter when you embrace him this close against you, the adrenaline of your unbound joy, his impressive triumph settling into your thundering heart, you feel pressed against him.   

His soft, heavy laughter curls pleasant into your ears. “To the victor go the spoils, I guess.” He breathes. “Although this treasure seems particularly eager on jumping into my arms herself.”   

“Of course I am.” You press yourself away from him enough to afford yourself a proper survey of his face. “Gods, you were brilliant. Thank you, Sylus.”   

His thumb brushes just beneath your eye; a slow, testing touch. His gaze simmers in unusual, unexpected gentleness that siphons the breath from your lungs. “You need never thank me for anything, sweetheart, let alone this. I do not want it.”   

Your own relief blooming into a smile, but before you can respond; an unpleasant, harsh voice fractures through the air — the Magistrate seething and raging as he makes his way over to you both, an army of guards right behind. Clearly, the man could not stomach a sore loss; rabid fire and venom within his gaze as he trudges toward you, screaming obscenities.   

“Step back for a bit, kitten.” And you obey without further prompting, granting Sylus a wide berth for whatever he plans on doing.   

He doesn’t spare a moment longer before he’s striding forward, snatching one of the Magistrate’s unconscious minions off the ground. Hoisting him high up by the scruff of his neck. The Magistrate’s steps stagger just then at Sylus’s mad display, perhaps sensing the disaster he’s called upon him.   

But it’s far too late. “Here, have a present from all of Lungtang, Sire.” Sylus tows his arm back, wide, and aims — to the scurrying cries of the Magistrate — before he violently hurls the man in hand, right at the waddling official, bowling him and half his guards over like a stack of gambling plaques.   

“Sylus.” You gasp at his insane spectacle.  

Before the corrupt, toppled lot can even think to get their bearings back, Sylus is strolling back toward you; a quick flourish of a large hand thrown over his shoulder, in signal. “Take care of them,” he instructs out loud.   

A swarm of dark clad men melt away, on his sole command, from the crowds, to pack around the Magistrate and his men, blotting their figures entirely out of your sight. “Come on.” Sylus’s voice fractures through your reverie, his frame crowding your field of vision.   

“Whe— aah!” A hefty arm swoops beneath the back of your legs, sending frantic fingers scrabbling for purchase against the strength of Sylus’s shoulders as he hoists you up against his body. “What’re you doing?” 

He flashes a devious grin up at you, completely at odds against the bewildered shock you know is wide across your face. “Time to get out of here, sweetheart,” is all he offers in response before he’s sweeping you away from the pandemonium he’s wrought and the boisterous crowd; discarding all of that well-earned glory behind.   

The throng of on-goers tapers out the farther you get on to the road winding away from the arena; curious and awed looks alike garnered your way: at your position, and at the man — the infamous Onychinus head — who strolls easy through the streets of Lungtang, in possession of the strange woman he carries snug on the crook of an arm.  

A flush creeping hot up your face the longer this spectacle goes on until Sylus’s pace — thank the Gods above — dwindles to a halt. “This should be far enough.”   

“Yes, thank you. Put me down now.” Tapping fraught fingers against his shoulders in emphasis. Sylus raises a sculpted brow at you but relents, nonetheless. He steps past the mouth of the nearest back-street, well clear of people, before he helps you down onto your feet.   

You lean a hand across his arm, taking a moment to scramble your bearings back.   

“The brief walk back has you this out of breath, huh?” You turn a half-hearted frown at his mild ribbing; the man barely having broken a sweat himself, for having carried you all the way down here.   

“I wasn’t the one who asked you to lug me the entire way, you know,” you return.   

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m rather protective of my treasures being made to rot too long among the grime.” He gently pinches your cheek in between thick, tapered digits; voice descending to a softer baritone. “And I won, as promised.” Long, tapered fingers skim heat across the angle of your cheekbone. “So, you’ll give me a pass this once, won’t you?”  

Vivid scarlet flitters in inscrutable emotion to witness you cup careful palms about his own, as he touches you.   

“You also pulled that insane stunt with that sleaze of a magistrate at the end there. I don’t know how you plan on getting out of that one,” you point out, but there is no actual heat to your accusation.  

He exhales a half-laugh. “That’s probably long taken care of.” Stroking the fall of your hair back against your ear. “No one will come after you now.”  

You step closer to him. “You do know I’m capable of worrying about you too, right? I’m not heartless.” His mouth quirks at your peeved admission. “...You’re important to me Sylus.”  

A streak of something akin to surprise fulgurates for a moment’s notice within that garnet gaze, at your confession.   

Your fingers trek a steady path against the painted beads of your necklace dangling at his chest. “Although I do hope you’ll never pull something like this on my behalf, ever again.” He'd brought it back to you, safe and unscathed, just as he’d said — a vow made, he had honoured.   

Relief was still warm within your chest, along with the turbulence of long nursed vexing emotions, brought forth to the surface — for a man you’d known for almost half your life — by the day’s sequence of events. “I don’t think my heart could handle it.” You huff out a soft laugh.   

An inscrutable emotion streaks across Sylus’s face, too quick to pick apart until it retreats entirely once more.   

“Unfortunately for you,” long, tapered digits sweep about yours at his chest, capturing your hand steady within his grip. “that’s not a pledge I can offer you.” His whisper is low, throaty as it settles against you and you realize the sudden proximity of your positions.   

His striking face is all that floods your vision. His gaze flickers from yours, down toward the bow of your parted lips — a remiss on his part, you can tell from how it rolls back swift to catch your eyes once more. If you did not know any better, you might’ve almost thought he meant to lean further and—  

But was it really the mad conjuring of your mind and a reluctantly hopeful heart that wished to see what it thought it did? Or had you been this obtuse on purpose all along?   

Your brow knits in consternation; this far removed from the persistent babbling of voices — your anxieties, the people, his duel, your uncertain fates at the time — and sequestered within the quiet alley; your roiling thoughts are loud and insistent.   

“And why’s that, Sylus?” You ask quietly.  

The skewed pull of his mouth is devastatingly beautiful even in its lack of mirth, this up close. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart. Or are you going to pretend otherwise?” His thumb strokes its gentle path across your knuckles — lighting an incendiary course — your hand still placed firm at his chest. “Whatever your choice, however, know it has always been yours to make.”  

The muted, steady beats of his heart beneath your palm seem to thrum past the sensitive pads of your digits as they skim a line past his pectorals, and up your body, warming it from the inside out.   

You swallow against the surge of a nervous fever that takes you all at once; ploughing past that pluck of anxiety at your chest, to bet your entirety on the one gamble you’re about to make.   

“Come to think of it.” Pink tongue slinks past a mouth parched, to trek a slow path across your bottom lip, end to end; the intolerable burning intensity of Sylus’s scarlet gaze scouring each single motion, sending your light-headedness thrumming higher. “You haven’t truly won yet, have you, Sylus?”   

“What?” He exhales heavily. His breathing has quickened just a snick higher, you notice, underneath your feathering ministrations. You’re fascinated by how he sounds much short of breath in this one instant than he did throughout the entirety of that match. The fact sending a deluge of warm pride and desire threading through your heart.   

“A winner is only one when he has been crowned as such, and received his dues.” You clarify, shifting closer against him.   

Stretching up on the balls of your feet until you’re a mere hair’s breadth from his face. “You however, have yet to claim your prize.” Sweeping forward until your lips are skimming against his in a tentative, testing brush of kiss — your hammering thoughts of uncertainty, of whether he wants this too, swiped clean with the soft, guttural choke of sound that slips past Sylus’s lips at your brazen initiative. And before you can bask under the simmering warmth of what that sound does to you, Sylus is curving a large palm firm within the thread of your locks, wrenching your mouth back against his in a bruising, fervid kiss.  

Eager fingers skitter at the strength of his shoulders to ground yourself against the sudden, pleasurable onslaught just as he captures your waist within the ironed grip of an arm. Almost lifting you up entirely against him until you’re suspended barely at the tips of your toes.   

His grunts are warm against the inside of your mouth as his tongue skims past the easy access of your parted lips to taste you against himself. The wet muscle sliding against yours before he sucks it into his own mouth on an approving groan of desire.   

You're nearly nerveless by the time he parts from you on a wet stretch of sound, barely enough distance, his breath cascades hot against your damp lips with each guttural word, keying you higher. “This is getting a bit too dangerous, kitten. I suggest we stop here if you don’t wish to reach a point of no-return.”  

“No. No,” Your hands flit in fervent frenzy from the stretch of his shoulders to bunch into the thick silver weave of his hair. “We don’t ever need to stop. I want this, I want you, if you do too.” Your mouth descending back against his in the dizzy crush of lips and tongue, Sylus’s groans of pleasure you drink down against your own moan.  

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t desired you, sweetheart.” He whispers in harsh breaths into the pocket of space you allow him in between your kisses. “You’re the one who said it now. So, brace yourself.”   

A hand you skim down the thick length of his neck, grazing at the base of his hair to support yourself against the large arms that cage your waist to lift until he’s driving you both back against the wall of the narrow alleyway, shrouding you deeper into shadows.   

His kiss of gentle affection skids past the cut of your cheek, so at odds against the fierce brunt of his arousal you feel grinding into your belly. You buck against the touch just as Sylus eases you down, only enough you’re on your feet now; bodies still moulded tight against the shape of each other.   

His mouth continues its work of feathering kisses across the curve of your cheek, down the delicate line of your jaw. His hips stroking against yours in gentle motions, sending the roll of his hard length against your stomach each time he guides you against himself, having you squirm in roiling pleasure, helpless against the insistence of his mouth and pelvis. Meeting his body with yours in the reflexive buck of your hips against his.   

The elongated stretch of your skirt, sending a mild frisson of frustration through your nerves to feel the restriction of your movements against his. Groaning in soft defeat against Sylus’s mouth over yours, just as he cups a large hand about the angle of your pelvis. Caressing past the flare of your behind, rucking up the fabric within a tight fist to slide it, far too slow, up your legs.   

A final brush of temporary farewell he kisses against your drenched lips before he descends, unhurried, down the length of your body; scarlet gaze refusing to relent from yours for even a single measured moment of mercy. A thick palm he traces, appreciative, down the curves of you as he pitches on to his knees.   

Thumb warming its touch against the edge of a knee, your skirts bunched at the hand fastened about your leg as it caresses a slow, sensual path up higher. The glorious sight he is, down on his knees in between the willing split of your legs; undoing in its entirety — you shudder at the devastation he brings upon you when his fingers hone their target upon the cloth of your underwear at your hip. Skating a delicate path against the knot of it before his index slips underneath it to tug undone.   

Wresting your underwear away entirely on his next sharp tug before he sweeps the mortifyingly damp cloth away from your body and under his nose for a long, obscene inhale. “You smell sweet, kitten. So much of this pretty nectar, all for me... I admit I’m more than a little flattered.” The skew of his devious smirk pulls wider at your choked sound of pleasure to witness him swipe your underwear down against his back, and pocket into the satchel at his belt.   

“Sylus,” you reprimand half-heartedly, in distressed urgency.   

“The victor takes it all, does he not? These are my spoils to have now, kitten.” His large palms are back at the skin of your legs, skimming a dizzying, scorching path up the quiver of your thighs. “Just as you are, the treasure I snatched for myself.”  

“Let me indulge in my private feast, quietly now.” He baits in heated whispers, jaw falling open as he disappears in between the heavy folds of your skirt and — Heaven help you — the sound that scrapes raw past your throat to feel the tease of his broad tongue against your drenched slit, is unlike any you’ve ever heard before. The high-pitched squeal you cut off in the hasty wrench of your bottom lip into your mouth, heated desire clouding your swimming vision to tamp down your moans of arousal, lest any passers-by, just a few feet away from your shadowed alcove, spot the indecency of your display.   

Thoughts drifting into emptiness — musing absent at how self-conscious you’d been while Sylus had carried you within his arms all the way out here; fully clothed then. And yet, here you were now, with your skirts bunched high up against your pelvis with that very same man’s wonderful tongue shoved deep inside you.  

The hot pads of Sylus’s index and middle you feel skim against the tight bead of pleasure at your apex, just as the point of his tongue seeps in at your entrance, sending your hips stuttering into his steeled grip, fast at your pelvis.   

You clamp a palm shut tight against your tapering moans, unable to smother them within yourself any longer. The heated plumes of your own breath crowding back against you with each shivered moan Sylus forces out of you.  

His mouth brushes about the length of your folds, the bow of his upper lip bumping gentle at your tight bundle of nerves. Before he closes it within the searing heat of his mouth, sucking at your increasingly swollen flesh.   

Sylus draws at the drenched slick of you like a man intent on devouring you whole, the thought drives your pleasure higher along with the rising euphoria bubbling within your body. A curious thumb parts your inner folds wider to admit the broad of his tongue deep into your slit. Your walls spasming against the breach of it as your hips judder down against the strength of his jaw.  

“You’re close, aren’t you sweetheart? You can keep up a little longer.” His smothered encouragement, the vibrations of his thick voice right against your slit send you tumbling higher upon that precipice of sweet release.   

The added, ruinous excitement of not being able to see him past the abundant frill of your skirts blazes you higher; the sole nervous anticipation of not knowing where he’d touch you next has you gushing on his tongue.   

A low, soft curse you hear spill guttural against your folds, vibrating straight up into your womb, “You’re practically weeping on my tongue, sweetheart. I like that.” Your answering moan you bury into a bite of your sleeve as you fold your arm about your face; a full body quiver long having taken you. You no longer hold control over yourself. “Grind down on my face, relax yourself. Yes, there’s my good girl now.”  

The praise having your walls grip hard at the fingers he’s worked into you now. Propelling them at an indolent, maddening pace into your depths.  

“Sylus,” you pant harshly, mind numbing into a crescendo. “I don’t — hah — can’t — much longer.” Begging for a release so, so close at hand.  

“Then don’t . Let yourself go.” His groans muted against the wet heat of you. “I’ll catch you when you fall.”   

The crook of his middle and ring fingers up into you has you spasming against the intrusive stretch of them. Opening you up deeper; the deft pads of them scrounge up a spot against your frontal walls that has your mouth flying open on a silent scream, head falling back against the unyielding brick of the alley as your fluttering insides clamp down violent against his adroit handling of you. “Right here, is it?” You think you hear his muted whispers spill throaty against the sensitive expanse of your thigh.   

Right at the junction of your hip as Sylus sinks a bite into the pliant flesh just as his thick fingers rub up against that same weak spot inside to have you disintegrating into senselessness right above him.  

You can’t fathom how he’s brought you to such complete devastation in just a few, nimble strokes of his tongue and fingers into you, against you. Never having been dragged this fast or good to the precipice by your own hand, let alone another’s. He’s away each layer of defence, piece by excruciating piece, having worked you open so thoroughly as if he knew your body like his own.  

Truly a man that sought relentless victory even in between the fall of your legs.   

And it is only when that pleasure point is one keyed far too high, with the incessant press of his third finger up into your walls, stretching you open — so incredibly full of just his digits alone — does your body fall. No longer capable of protecting yourself against the battering deluge of a release so consuming, your knees buckle underneath the hefty intensity of his ministrations.   

Sylus’s large hand, you feel warm about your rump, to curve its easy support about it, as he presses his face further into you. Waves upon waves of pleasure, drowning your keening cries against your well-abused bottom lip. A faint frisson of overstimulation stringing you higher to gain enough conscious thought back to catch his low, guttural growl searing harsh at your drenched folds, at the sensation of you gushing all over his tongue.  

You quiver in nerveless arousal to feel the fleeting brush of his kiss farewell against your slit before he rises, slow, onto his feet once more. Your body clenches in on instinctual need to catch sight of his face once more. The slick that glimmers obscenely copious across his mouth and down the strength of his jaw, the untamed, almost bestial intensity to that barely tamped heat within scarlet, as Sylus sweeps a careful thumb against your wetness has you unfurling trembling digits forward to snag around his neck, dragging him down against yourself.  

Consuming the ferocity of his kiss just as eagerly in the tongue you lap at his lips, slipping along the angle of his jaw; moaning softly at the taste of you that clings still to him. Restless fingers steal in between your bodies to reach for the arousal that strains delectable and intimidating against his trousers.  

Flittering your digits about the catch of them as you work them open enough along with the thick fingers that aid you to release him free for your hungry gaze. Your audible gasp of pleasure Sylus captures against the pad of his thumb edging just past the part of your lips.  

He’s incredibly blessed, bigger, girthier than any you’ve ever had before. The prospect of taking that thing inside your body simultaneously terrifies and excites you.  

Your dazed musings Sylus fractures in the cup of your jaw in between firm, gentle digits. “Nervous?”   

“...A bit,” you admit. Adding for good measure, “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”  An expectant hand you move to curve about the breadth of him to make your point — fingers barely able to cup entirely about him.  

Sylus’s laughter is a low, heavy burst of sound. “Don’t worry, kitten.” He reaches down to join his fingers against yours in languidly stroking the length of him. Coasting in close to your ear as he lays a kiss of dark, hoarse promise against it, “I’ll teach you to do more than just handle it.”  

Your pleased moan you throttle against his quick, vehement kiss as Sylus gathers the folds of your skirt up to bunch about your hips. Fitting himself into the space he makes, his arousal glancing hot against your outer labia; feeling him so close to where your body clenches in on tense anticipation.   

He withdraws from you on a wet slip of tongue, seizing your gaze within his. The firm fist he strokes at his length guiding the flared, slick head of him against your folds to lubricate in your wetness, bumping pleasant at your sensitive bead of nerves on each indolent stroke.  

You buck your hips up against his in an impatient scratch of throaty sound. Slipping the head of him so close against your slit, it almost makes you dizzy with need.  

You are not, however, prepared truly for the actual breach of him as he splits you open in pleasure so blinding, it streaks right against your tender bead and up deep into your belly. Sylus’s guttural groans brand hot against the crescent of your neck in overwhelmed desire, a muted swear swallowed into the bite of teeth he presses into it. “Relax yourself a little, kitten, you’ve gone too tight on me.”  

You try, you truly do as you smother past your burning need to scream, for breaths to claw into your lungs; he feels too much, too good all at once, your body incapable of doing much else except accepting the slow propulsion of him deeper into your walls.

He feels almost too much for you to handle, spearing you open so far around him you didn’t even think yourself capable of such a feat. And yet, the copious arousal that slicks in between your bodies, with the voracious clench of your walls around the hard strength of him, sucking him inside, speaks volumes. Of how you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being impaled upon his length.  

“More,” you pant; the slow thrusts of his hips up into yours sending your lashes flittering shut, in overwhelming euphoria and need. “I need more, Sylus.”  

He grunts in acknowledgment, large hands fixing hot fetters of flesh against either side of your pelvis as he thrusts into you, each swollen stroke of his arousal sending him impossibly deep, until you feel it may truly reach your womb.  

Sylus heaves himself closer into you, nearly pinning you against the wall with the sheer strength of his towering body, the heavy pumping of his hips into you, sending euphoria skating through your veins. Intoxicated on feeling the way he moves within you.  

A hand drifts up from your hip to grip at the flare of your waist beneath cloth as Sylus manoeuvres your body to thrust into you at an angle that drives him hard against your swollen spot of pleasure inside.   

Your hands fly in agonized frenzy to clutch at his arms, his shoulders as you grapple with the blinding pleasure he’s carving into your body. His head skews downward to catch the sensitive flesh of your neck in between the bite of restive teeth, a low moan wrenched free of your throat. His mouth strokes down the length of your skin until he teeths at the fastenings of your collar, wrenching violent at the buttons before he scatters them apart. Mouth engulfing the exposed slope of your clavicle in fervid groans.  

Your fingers skitter for purchase into the silver brush of hair at the base of his neck, tugging harsh with his increasingly heavy pace. A low whine clambering past your throat when his grip upon your body tightens once more in purpose, dragging his length to the near tip of him before he rams back into you on a guttural snarl so primal, it has you violently spasming about his thick shaft, your vision blanking in for a moment.  

Sylus’s face is a flood of savage bliss and heated concentration — the sight along with his pleasurably punishing thrusts into your walls — has your heart nearly trying to rip past the bruising beat of it at your breastbone. Hips meeting his in stuttering thrusts as your body bows up, sharp, toward him to chase a height of euphoria so in sight.  

“You’re moaning so loud, kitten.” His throaty chuckle stirs weighty into your belly. “Keep that up and you’ll draw us an audience.” Gnawing weakly at your bottom lip to instinctively tamp your sounds just as Sylus moves to drive into you on a particularly ruinous, deliberate thrust that has your legs buckling entirely underneath you.   

But he’s there to catch you, thick forearms cording about the feeble, trembling plush of your thighs before he hoists you up entirely onto him; his hushed chuckle drifting into guttural laughter. “Why try being quiet on your own when you can just make use what you have at your disposal?” His lips drive against yours in a vehement kiss of teeth and tongue, devouring you, just the way he is in between your legs. You let yourself go at last, moaning unabated into the searing warmth of his mouth, Sylus’s pace turning to near-frenzied rutting, with the sounds he wrenches from your bruised throat.  

He forces you deeper against the wall, spearing you helpless in between the cool stone at your back and the unforgiving intensity of his drilling thrusts pillaging your body. Golden deep pleasure roiling pleasant just beneath your skin, to push at the confines, until you feel like you could float out of it heavenward and never return to the ground.  

Your fevered gaze snags against the painted beads of your gifted charm about his neck, swinging vehement with the force of his propulsions. Drifting absent fingers against the worn orbs of the necklace, mushed mind admiring how truly lovely he looks like this for you; coupled along with that tight knit of concentrated pleasure, it makes you believe he truly is all yours to have. As if he belongs to you, with you.   

That sole, deranged thought sending arousal thrumming within, so blinding, your body quivers into the tight curve of a crescent, pressing hard against his chest, a peak so close, you can feel it stirring vicious into your belly. “You’re all mine to have, aren’t you? My great warrior,” you gasp against his mouth, trembling fingers sweeping for the broad strength of his shoulders as your nails drive in, harsh.

Sylus’s response; groaned heavy against your tongue, without hesitation. “You’ve always had me in my entirety, sweetheart.”  

Your body has wholly given up — a leaden weight — within his grasp, held together only by the strength of Sylus’s arms curving steeled grips about your thighs. Pounding into you with each fervid roll of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs — the profuse flow of your arousal sweltering in between your already burning bodies, the obscene squelch of it each time he withdraws from your walls only to drive back in with savage, terrifying accuracy, rutting himself so good against the spot inside that has you quivering uncontrollably around the length of him.  

Your combined sultry symphony so loud within your ears, drumming along with the thundering of your heart, you’re sure any passers-by crossing the mouth of the alley would be able to hear. Your cotton-fed mind so far gone, however, you’re no longer coherent enough to care about anyone hearing your claims upon each other’s bodies. So deeply entrenched in the sole existence of Sylus: his body, tongue, his bruising grip upon you, you love so much — scoring stinging crescents as your own signs of victory, across the broad strength of his shoulders, down the firm muscle of his arms, serving to drive him only harder into you until he’s knocking half-screams out of your throat. Swallowing them up against the hungry sweep of his tongue.  

Sylus’s thrusts into your body have turned erratic, his guttural moans heating your skin into a blazing furnace. You’re so close to release, you can feel the heavy crest of its deluge approaching — golden and ruinous.  

His grip upon the flare of your hip shifts, pressing you impossibly deeper against him, the new angle driving the length of him against your sensitive bundle of nerves on each hammering thrust. “A-Almost—” Gasping a breathless warning.  

Hurtling you so high; the frenzied pump of his hips into yours, the constant stimulation at your swollen bead sending your walls spasming so violent, you feel Sylus loose a long, guttural groan deep into your mouth. You tumble off the precipice of release just as you feel the first thick spurts of his seed searing fire against your sensitized walls; Sylus’s sultry growls keying your frenzied release so high your fingers scrape across the back of his neck to tug him harsh against your mouth. Sinking your quivering, heated desires into a vehement bite at his chest, Sylus’s digits weaving tight into your hair at the back of your head, to hold you there.  

His thundering pulse you moan against in appreciation, laving absent to soothe the reddening bite at his skin, as your body convulses with the still flowing spurts of his release, stroking at the intoxicating fever of your prolonged orgasm, filling you to the brim and over; the warmth of it you feel drip past your folds and onto his sturdy thighs.  

Taking several, long much needed moments to compose yourself as your sweat-slick face falls, nerveless, to press your cheek against the damp expanse of his chest, body still suspended firm upon the corded strength of his arms, his cock nestled snug and thick within you.  

You claw a much-needed gulp of air past a throat, long sore. “...I fear you may have to carry me here on out, as well, Sylus, because I certainly can’t move an inch right now.”  

His amused chuckle drifts warm against the top of your head. “While joined together just like this?” He teases softly. “You may truly pass out of sheer embarrassment this time if I do, kitten.”  

“Doesn’t matter,” you quip right back, half-hearted, canting a languid gaze up his way. “I think I’ll be long knocked out before any pesky shame kicks in, from how good this — you were.”  

You feel Sylus’s length twitch within your walls at your words, groaning quietly at the growing strain of his arousal, back to half-mast already. Truly, was there a limit to the man’s enduring stores of stamina?  

But perhaps, the real question was of your own insatiable appetite too, when it came to him, as you were only newly discovering — your wrecked body responding in the muted burn of arousal, kindling into slow fire within your belly, clenching weakly at him.  

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Sylus’s skewed grin tucks against your ear as he nuzzles at your cheek.  “I’ll carry you out of here in my arms, as you wish, without the additional parade of our naked bodies. In return,” A kiss he feathers, against the angle of your cheekbone. “Come home with me.”  He asks of you, softly.

You bury your approval in the nudge of your nose against him, catching his lips against yours in a gentle, chaste kiss, “Sounds like a done deal to me, my handsome warrior.”  

End Notes: Thank you for reading! This was a very fun indulgence and I hope everyone who bagged Sylus’ card enjoyed his soft card story.

Tagging as requested: @samanthagnicole , @catboi-anon , @bitches4lifebro , @beebumbo , @hellinistical , @dangerousluv1 , @webmvie , @Cas-tiel13 , @aria-tempest , @raendarkfaerie , @lamentinee , @unhingedsillygod , @tiredas , @ladyparamount

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[heartdoomed]

Quick long story short, I unfortunately lost the ask who asked for this fanfic 💔 hope ya find your way back to this!

| Hard To Crack

Chapter l

Pairing: Au Mafia! Lady Dimitrescu x Tutor! Reader

Genre: AU, Slow Burn, Multiple Chapters

Chapter Warnings: None

Masterlist

Mondays rarely made you excited, but today was different. Maybe it was the thought of finally acquiring a stable job outside of your freelance work or perhaps just the everlasting memory that your rent was due weeks ago. Either way, standing outside of such an imposing building made your knees buckle with anxiety. Everything about this place screamed old money, status, fuck it; these people could probably buy your soul if they wanted to. Yet, there you were, holding a small briefcase, dressed in the best clothes you could find, and walking straight towards Dimitrescu manor.

 

‘Dimitrescu’

 

You repeated the word in your mind, your lips silently moving in sync. You have been practicing that surname ever since you filed the application; the fear of mispronouncing your possible new boss made you paranoid towards the smallest of details. She was definitely European—maybe Romanian? You pondered against your thoughts, feeling your legs grow heavier with each step past the front garden— the view sure was something. The flowers were beautiful, the garden bushes were trimmed to perfection, and the cobblestone pathway had not a single trace of moss. Still, something about the Gothic architecture made you intrigued. The manor stood tall, sharp, and commanding, as if it mocked you by simply being there. 

 

The amount of daydreaming made you almost trip on your feet, and you thanked your lucky stars; there was no one nearby to see such a display.

 

Your shoes finally clicked onto the last doorstep with a halt, and your eyes traveled down to the doorknocker. A dragonhead made of dark metal—this couldn’t get any more gothic. Wrapping your fingers around the ring, you softly knocked against the dark wood of the heavy door. You waited, steadying your breath as the door gently opened.

 

A middle-aged woman, possibly in her late 50’s, opened the door and greeted you with a soft smile. She had a short stature, black hair adorned with lustrous silver streaks, a welcoming expression you were relieved to see. Unlike the gate guards, she was surely more welcoming of you, at least. Gosh, how embarrassing it was to prove you were in fact supposed to be there—maybe the family was just way too cautious with security.

 

“Y/N? Ah, yes. Lady Dimitrescu is waiting; let me take you to her.” 

 

Clinging tightly against your briefcase, you gave her an understanding smile and followed suit.

 

‘Lady.’ You’ve never met anyone with that status before. It was bold of you to go this far and to try this higher. Working for a countess seemed just too ambitious, dammit, you were cleaning bar tables last Saturday! Surely your history as a teacher was a great fate sealer, besides your multiple positive experiences as a babysitter for other families with good financial wealth. But a countess? She had the money to hire thousands of other employees and keep them around until her children made it to college, yet you dared to try, amongst many others.

 

The place was surely old but very well maintained. The floor was polished to perfection, the wood shined with cleanness, and you couldn’t see a single spec in any of the furniture or expensive vases. You dared to say those vases must’ve cost more than your immortal soul. 

 

Once far upstairs, you looked around as the maid entered the office to announce your arrival. Your eyes gently traveled, taking in all the smallest details until something caught your attention. Three little heads popped from the corner of the corridor you entered with the maid. Sprouts of red, dark brown, and blonde hair watched you with the minimum amount of care to not be seen—three little curious girls you had yet to proerly meet—each eyes shared different emotions and very own little personalities, as soon as you raised your hand to a friendly wave, they were gone.

 

“Lady Dimitrescu will see you in a moment.” The maid gently replied to you, closing the quite tall door behind her. You could hear a faint voice from what you were sure to be the lady’s office; she seemed rather stressed about a matter, but you couldn’t make much out of it. “Please wait here. I wish you good luck.” She whispered, giving you a nod and soon disappearing down the hallway.

 

 

 

 ///////

 

 

 

You somehow managed to keep your thoughts and sanity balanced. You didn’t have to wait much, but the few minutes that passed by seemed like a torturous eternity. You just wanted to get this over with, as part of you had a feeling this would be yet another failed interview. 

 

“Come inside.”

 

You almost jumped from the sudden voice coming from the office; it wasn’t a shout, but it was loud and firm enough to make you immediately steady yourself up. You quickly brushed your clothes, cleaned your throat, and gently opened the door. It was time.

 

The office was larger than expected, with many bookshelves against the walls with several books you haven’t even heard of. A golden chandelier illuminated the room perfectly, and the woman resting against the office chair, the chair was turned towards a large window that perfectly gave a view of the outside. Your face burned at the thought of her possibly seeing you trip earlier on, hells. You softly closed the door behind you, and once you turned, your eyes immediately made contact with the woman’s fierce orbs.

 

Lady Dimitrescu was a striking figure. She wore a lustrous ivory suit jacket followed by an inner black turtleneck shirt and a dark rose against her right chest. It was not everyday you laid your eyes on a woman with such a style of clothing; sure, it wasn’t impossible to see women wearing things outside of skirts, but her way of dressing was absolutely bold. Her hair was raven in color, some silver streaks ran down it, giving her looks a nice combination. 

 

“Lady Dimitrescu, It’s a pleasure to—“

 

She raised her hand, making you immediately stop talking. She leaned to open a shelf from her desk, taking out a cigar and a golden lighter, she swiftly lit it with a deep drag. As she turned towards you, she remained silent, her eyes looked you up and down, and she finally spoke.

 

“Sit.”

 

She motioned to the chair in front of her, and you immediately obeyed. You softly rested your briefcase against your lap. Nervously,  you thought about your next choice: Talk? Stay silent? What if you annoyed her by talking again? Or by staying too quiet?

 

“I have had a total of six candidates and three failed employments during the last month,” she started while releasing the drag she took. “The last employee was supposed to start this Monday, but as you can see, you are here instead. The interview didn’t go as desired.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear about that, but I’m certain that I will reach your expectations, ma’am.”

 

“You are the fourth to say such a bold statement.” 

 

“And it’s a statement I ought to excel with.”

 

Lady Dimitrescu silently raised an eyebrow at your newfound bravery; unlike the other candidates, you were the only one to reply back with that amount of determination. Brushing aside your thoughts about failing at this interview, you gently changed your posture—you couldn’t give up just yet.

 

“I’ve read your reports, Lady Dimitrescu. I understand your daughters can be very—“

 

“Difficult?” She asked with a grin; her pearly white teeth held the impression of amusement from her.

 

“Very complex... yes. But as much as my years of experience have allowed me, I feel confident in my abilities.”

 

You gave a soundless sight through your nose; anything maintained the confident posture you took. How could that woman do it all the time? You felt your shoulders weight from a few seconds alone. Carefully enough, you opened your briefcase, stacking important papers onto her desk as she took hold of a few. Leaning back, she took another drag before setting her cigar onto an ashtray as her eyes loomed over the machine-typed words.

 

“Not bad... nor extraordinary.” She huffed, and you fiddled with your fingers. “My daughters are not little angels, Miss...” She arched a sharp eyebrow at you. Your eyes almost widened upon noticing you forgot to even introduce yourself, but wouldn’t she already know from your application?

 

“It is Y/N—“

 

“Y/N, of course.” Your name rolled way too well against her tongue. “It looks like I will need more than just papers and ink; I need better convincing from your part, Miss Y/N.”

 

Before you could say anything, her figure rose from her chair, and just finally your eyes widened, at least. Gosh, she was tall, and you certainly didn’t expect it at all. Have you ever even seen a woman that tall? Maybe it was a condition, but flaming hell, she was at least well over 9’0 feet! You felt absolutely minuscule in comparison. Quickly snapping from your shock, you organized your briefcase as she made her way towards the door, pushing it open and waiting for you to pass through. 

 

“Ah, you want me to meet them already?”

 

Alcina gave a sharp nod, her heels clicking sharply against the ground. You barely managed to keep up with her along the corridor as a maid happened to come across you two.

 

“Send the girls to the living room, immediately.” She ordered. The maid gave a silent nod and scattered away even faster than you both. 

 

‘She has long legs, this isn’t far!’

 

You protested in your thoughts, and just as if she could read your mind, she started to slow down. Her right hand traveled to run some of her hair away behind her head, she gave a low hum as she noticed you finally catching up with her.

 

“You will have to run faster if you don’t want to lose them from your sight.”

 

“Well, I’m sure their legs aren’t as long as yours, ma’am!”

 

The tall woman managed to let out a hum; it was audible from your position and very well toned with amusement.

 

“You are rather bold when you want to be, aren’t you?” You wish you could properly slap yourself from spluttering that out loud.

 

“I apologize; I didn’t mean to offend you.“

 

“It’s refreshing,” She stopped on her tracks, turning to you, who almost passed past her before also stopping. “And do not apologize. I hate foolish apologies; if you wish to make up for something, show me results, not words.” That sank into your mind as you both kept on your tracks; this woman was like no one you’ve met before.

 

 

 ///////

 

 

Finally enough, you found yourself in the living room. Alcina dismissed the maid you two had come across, and the room was left to you five. The once-girls who once threw words against each other and shifted restlessly against the large sofa quickly toned down upon the sight of their mother, they rearranged themselves as Alcina squinted her eyes at them to behave. Judging by it, she was the type of mother to look, not warn. 

 

“Much better,” Alcina finally set down on a particularly larger chair than the rest; naturally, everything of hers was probably custom made. “Now, now. We have been through this a lot, and I hope you three cooperate more as my options are shortening themselves.”

 

“Yes mother.” The trio spoke in union, but you could catch the different tones and even personalities of each.

 

She gave an approving look and turned to you with a sharp nod. Presentations, naturally. You gently strode over, finally having a decent look at the girls. For girls not considered angels by their own mother, it was surely a surprise to see them behave this quickly. 

 

“Hello there, it’s great to finally meet you three!” You bended just enough to allow a handshake; the redhead was quick to chirp and eagerly took your hand while the blonde showed more decorum with your handshake. The brunette, on the other hand, kept her arms crossed, looking at you with clear defiance. Alcina rolled her eyes at the very same antics.

 

“I’m Bela,” the blonde started. “This is Daniela.” She pointed at the red head who wouldn’t stop shifting in her seat but rather from excitement than anything else. “And this grumpy frog is Cassandra—ouch! Mom! Cassandra hit me!” Bela cried out loud, holding the arm Cassandra delivered a punch onto.

 

“Cassandra!”

 

“Bela started!” The brunette protested, sticking out her tongue towards her sister, who replied with the same action. Daniela simply tilted her head before also sticking out her own tongue in solidarity.

 

“Ahem—amphibious aside, I'm sure it’s not polite to call your sister a frog, Bela.” 

 

“Hmph.” Bela pointed, turning away from Cassandra, who smiled in false triumph.

 

“And neither is it right to hit your sister, Cassandra!” You replied shortly after. Cassandra stared daggers into your eyes. “An angry face doesn’t make it any better, little lady.” Noticing you wouldn’t back down from this, she looked over at Alcina, who gave her an eye-narrowing glance. She then backed down from her defiant expression and allowed her back to hit the softness of the sofa.

 

“I won’t shake your hand.” She scoffed.

 

It was obvious that these girls were spoiled, even if by accident. Maybe they just needed a firm grip that was also understanding? No other tutor nanny was able to withstand how troublesome they were.

 

“I’m Y/N, and hopefully I will get to see you three if everything goes well. I’m looking after knowing you girls better.” The girls shot glances at each other; Daniela snickered while Bela rolled her eyes at Cassandra’s prideful expression. “And... is there something I don’t know?” You tentatively inquired.

 

“It’s just,” Daniela started, her feet shifting against each other as she stopped chuckling. “Cassandra bit the last nanny, and she ran away.” Alcina almost choked on her own air.

 

“Daniela.” She warned, and the girl squirmed behind Bela, who threw a fit of laughter. Cassandra narrowed her eyes at you, seemingly not sorry for what she had done. 

 

“A bite? Tsk, nothing out of the matter.” You were starting to see just how the dynamic between the trio worked, and your seemingly lack of concern made Cassandra shocked. “If you, young lady, think you can surprise me with your antics, I have my doubts.” You dully kneeled in front of the girls, now being the center of their rather fragile attention spam. 

 

Suddenly, you quickly darted your hand towards the side of Cassandra’s head. Alcina tensed at first before fully relaxing and letting out an incredulous scoff.

 

“WHAT?!” The trio practically screamed as you brought your hand back to reveal a silver, apparently taken from behind Cassandra’s ear. The small girl desperately pampered with her ear before grabbing your hand to examine it better— her sisters were just as equally shocked with the trick.

 

“Ah, and what is this?” You mischievously started, and Cassandra furrowed her eyebrows before looking down. Her eyes widened as soon as she noticed. She was torn between being mad and being impressed with your deceiving. You softly held Cassabdra’s hands as she now held the silver coin. You gently shook her hand, softly smiling at your own little victory. “Looks like little old me did manage to shake your hand; Id say it was a smooth move, no?”

 

Cassandra remained shocked as Bela and Daniela smiled towards each other. No maid has gotten this far! Excitement builds up within each of them; maybe things would take a turn around here.

 

“Well, well,” Alcina slowly stood up from her chair, her gaze shifting towards you with a less judgmental view. ”You are the first to actually get a handshake out of her... Not bad.” That made you smile, at least a tiny bit. 

 

With a nod and a sigh, she looked down at her daughters, who immediately looked up in expectation.

 

“Let her stay!”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Mom, come on! She is fun, you can’t let her go!”

 

Each one protested as you shifted in place; suddenly the weight of the reason you were here to begin with finally crept into your consciousness. Alcina sighed, her hand performing a 'shoo’ motion towards her daughters, who quickly picked up the pace to leave the living room. As Bela and Cassandra left, Daniela gently stopped by you to give your legs a tight hug, to which you happily returned. She shyly smiled and attempted to hide her face in between her hands, making her way in an attempt to catch up with her sisters.

 

“You start next week.”

 

You jumped, hearing Alcina’s voice just behind you. Gosh, that woman could be scary when she wanted to.

 

“E- Excuse me?” Unbelievable.

 

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Absolutely not.

 

“No! Oh goodness. Thank you so much, Lady Dimi—“

 

“And you can stop with titles... Ma’am is still acceptable. Refer to me as Alcina, understood? 

 

A simple nod came from you, as you still tried to process what she had just said. You wanted to sigh, to laugh, to flop on a bed, to break something. You felt euphoric, you out of so many others? 

 

“But of course, I expect things to be stable. Many others were also approved but never made it past a few weeks in our house.” She squinted her eyes at you, mind lost in thought, before she bent. “The girls seem to enjoy your company, so don’t disappoint me." Alcina quietly rose to her full height; her eyes never left yours, and you wouldn’t dream of looking away nonetheless.

 

“I’ll have a maid scort you outside; your job starts next Monday." In the meantime, prepare yourself while I get a room prepared for your stay.”

 

As she left the room, you quickly trailed behind. Your heart was stomping against your ribcage; it was unbelievable, but it brought so much hope you had no capacity to think of negative scenarios. She could definitely catch the smile on your lips, perhaps she could use seeing more smiles like yours. 

 

[techhy-simpson]

Staff Augmentation vs. Project Outsourcing: Choosing the Right Approach for Your IT Needs

In today's fast-paced digital landscape, businesses often find themselves in need of additional IT resources to meet their growing demands. Two popular options for addressing these needs are staff augmentation and project outsourcing. But which approach is right for your organization? This beginner's guide will help you understand the key differences between these two strategies and guide you in making an informed decision.

1. Understanding the Basics: Staff Augmentation and Project Outsourcing Defined

What exactly are staff augmentation and project outsourcing?

Let's start by clearly defining these two approaches:

Staff Augmentation: This strategy involves temporarily hiring external professionals to work alongside your existing team. These augmented staff members become an extension of your in-house team, working under your direct supervision and management.

Project Outsourcing: In this approach, you hand over an entire project or a specific function to an external vendor. The outsourcing partner takes full responsibility for delivering the project, managing their own team and resources.

Understanding these fundamental differences is crucial as we delve deeper into the pros and cons of each approach.

2. The Pros and Cons of Staff Augmentation

Title: Weighing the Benefits and Drawbacks of Staff Augmentation

Subtitle: Is bringing in temporary talent the right move for your business?

Pros:

1. Flexibility: Staff augmentation allows you to quickly scale your team up or down based on project needs.

2. Control: You maintain direct oversight of the augmented staff and the project.

3. Integration: Augmented staff work closely with your in-house team, fostering knowledge transfer.

4. Cost-effectiveness: You can avoid the long-term costs associated with full-time hires.

Cons:

1. Management overhead: You're responsible for managing and integrating the augmented staff.

2. Potential culture mismatch: Temporary staff may not fully align with your company culture.

3. Training requirements: You may need to invest time in bringing augmented staff up to speed on your processes and tools in hiring a developer.

3. The Advantages and Disadvantages of Project Outsourcing

Is handing over your project to an external team the best solution?

Pros:

1. Expertise: Access to specialized skills and experience in specific domains.

2. Reduced management burden: The outsourcing partner handles project management.

3. Predictable costs: Usually involves fixed-price contracts for defined scopes of work.

4. Focus on core business: Allows your in-house team to concentrate on strategic initiatives.

Cons:

1. Less control: You have limited oversight of the day-to-day project activities.

2. Communication challenges: Time zone differences and cultural barriers can hinder smooth collaboration.

3. Potential quality issues: Ensuring consistent quality can be challenging with external teams.

4. Intellectual property concerns: Sharing sensitive information with external parties may pose risks.

4. Factors to Consider When Choosing Between Staff Augmentation and Project Outsourcing

Title: Making the Right Choice for Your Business

Subtitle: Key considerations to guide your decision

1. Project complexity: For highly complex projects that require deep integration with your existing systems, staff augmentation might be more suitable. For standalone projects or well-defined tasks, project outsourcing could be a better fit.

2. Duration: Staff augmentation is often more beneficial for long-term needs, while project outsourcing is typically better for short-term, specific projects.

3. Budget constraints: Consider both immediate costs and long-term financial implications of each approach.

4. In-house expertise: If you lack specific skills in-house but have strong project management capabilities, staff augmentation might be preferable. If you're short on both skills and management resources, project outsourcing could be the answer.

5. Control requirements: If maintaining tight control over the project is crucial, staff augmentation offers more direct oversight.

6. Time-to-market: Project outsourcing can often deliver faster results, especially if the outsourcing partner has readily available resources and expertise.

5. Best Practices for Implementing Staff Augmentation

Tips for seamless integration and optimal results

1. Clear communication: Establish open channels of communication between your in-house team and augmented staff.

2. Thorough onboarding: Invest time in properly onboarding augmented staff to ensure they understand your processes, tools, and expectations.

3. Cultural integration: Make efforts to include augmented staff in team activities and company culture to foster better collaboration.

4. Regular performance evaluations: Conduct periodic assessments to ensure augmented staff are meeting your expectations and project goals.

5. Knowledge transfer: Implement processes to capture and retain knowledge from augmented staff for future use.

6. Effective vendor management: Maintain strong relationships with staffing providers to ensure consistent quality of augmented talent.

6. Best Practices for Successful Project Outsourcing

Strategies for effective collaboration with external teams

1. Detailed project scoping: Clearly define project requirements, deliverables, and timelines to avoid misunderstandings.

2. Robust contract management: Develop comprehensive contracts that outline expectations, responsibilities, and dispute resolution procedures.

3. Effective communication protocols: Establish regular check-ins and progress reports to stay informed about project status.

4. Quality assurance measures: Implement stringent quality control processes to ensure deliverables meet your standards.

5. Risk management: Identify potential risks early and develop mitigation strategies in collaboration with your outsourcing partner.

6. Intellectual property protection: Put in place proper safeguards to protect your sensitive information and intellectual property.

7. Hybrid Approaches: Combining Staff Augmentation and Project Outsourcing

Title: The Best of Both Worlds

Subtitle: Exploring flexible solutions for complex IT needs

In some cases, a hybrid approach combining elements of both staff augmentation and project outsourcing can provide the optimal solution. This strategy allows you to leverage the benefits of both approaches while mitigating their respective drawbacks.

For example, you might use staff augmentation to bring in key personnel who can oversee and manage outsourced projects. This approach gives you more control over the outsourced work while still benefiting from the expertise and resources of an external team.

Alternatively, you could outsource specific components of a larger project while using augmented staff to handle critical or sensitive aspects that require closer integration with your in-house team.

The key to success with a hybrid approach is careful planning and clear delineation of responsibilities between in-house, augmented, and outsourced teams.

Conclusion:

Choosing between staff augmentation and project outsourcing—or opting for a hybrid approach—depends on your specific business needs, project requirements, and organizational constraints. By carefully evaluating the pros and cons of each approach and considering the factors we've discussed, you can make an informed decision that aligns with your IT goals and overall business strategy.

Remember, the right choice may vary from project to project, and what works best for one organization may not be ideal for another. Be prepared to reassess your approach as your needs evolve, and don't hesitate to adjust your strategy to ensure optimal results.

[queenofthearchipelago]

Long Rant about the Watcher Thing

The thing about what's happening with Watcher is that I'm a musician. I understand deeply the difficulties that come with an artist making their art and needing money and the relationship with the people that art is for. So I understand that Watcher needs money to pay their employees and maintain their business.

That said, they revealed that they have 25 employees (half of which are nepotism hires and friends from BuzzFeed) and that one episode of Ghost Files costs "hundreds of thousands of dollars." (Ghost Files being their most expensive show by bar, not their average spending habits per Watcher episode)

I understand from a few people I've seen who are in their Patreon that they make at least 100k per month from the patreon. And then there's the money they get from youtube itself from the views. And then there's the money they get from the ads.

Now I understand that Ryan said this decision came down to primarily 2 things: the ad companies were making them feel stifled with what they could do (which they don't explain how), and they want more money to be able to keep up a higher production quality.

I'm going to skip past the thing about the ads. They never specified how the ad companies were making them change their content in a way that made them feel unsatisfied. I can't speak or provide any opinions on why they want so badly to escape needing ad deals.

But I can talk about the higher production quality they speak of and that's specifically because Ryan said that they wanted to pay for a higher production quality FOR US. "For you guys."

We... we didn't ask for higher production. This is NOT a decision they need to make on our account. I understand and respect if they aren't creating on they level they want. But it's odd that they're speaking towards not being able to afford their current spending habits, as if this is something we asked them to do.

I've read a lot of comments about this and I agree with a lot of you that it's odd that this decision to switch to streaming coincides with the return of Worth It, a show that when produced by Steven, seems like it could easily cost just as much as Ghost Files to produce.

I understand why it feels like this is all Steven's fault. His vibes in the video today, compared to Ryan and Shane, made it seem like he was the most excited about it. It's Steven that has been highlighted multiple times as the business man, the one who makes the financial decisions. It's Steven's shows on Watcher that get canceled after one or two seasons, meanwhile Ryan and Shane's shows just keep going to 5 seasons and beyond.

Shane even said it explicitly, that there are "shows that didn't do as well on youtube, that might do better on a streaming service."

But most of the fans DO watch Watcher for Ryan and Shane, they always have. Steven's shows don't do as well. When Watcher brings in a new host and makes a new show for them, those shows do even worse.

I know this upsets Ryan, he's been very vocal about wanting Watcher to expand beyond himself and Shane. He wants his company to be successful regardless of whether he's in front of the camera or not.

But I feel like this step is trying to force it. Right now, this is still Ryan and Shane's channel. This is why we're here. The people haven't latched onto Steven as much, and the attempts to bring in new hosts have been unsuccessful.

There are lots of comments floating around about why Watcher didn't do what Rhett and Link did and open up youtube membership. Or why didn't they host more live events. Or why didn't they do more livestreams. These all could have been fantastic ideas that wouldn't betray the fans.

Because I do think they forgot that their fanbase is largely women in their 20s. People are right in bringing up the cost of living crisis, in bringing up how many subscription services we're already subscribed to. And my heart goes out to the international viewers who can't access the website at all in their country and the ones who can't afford it because Watcher forgot to consider the currency difference.

I feel that they have betrayed their fanbase. I remember when Watcher started and Ryan admitted he was scared no one would watch. And then we showed up for them because we loved them and what they did.

But now most of the fans can't or won't follow them where they're going. And I think Ryan might know this too from the way he said If this is goodbye, it's been fun.

I wish they would have tried other things before hard launching a streaming service. I wish they would have had a long game plan to get to the place they wanted to be as a company and as creatives.

I feel betrayed but I also don't want this company going bankrupt. If they go bankrupt, then we truly have lost them forever. I hope they take a look at the overwhelming backlash, at their falling subscriber numbers, and I hope they reconsider doing this.

[homunculus-argument]

Sufficiently insanely rich and richly insane people will sometimes send assassins after each other just to send a message. A close-call shit-they-almost-got-me-this-time attempt on your life, sent by your sworn enemy with whom you are locked in an intense homoerotic rivalry, is just as ordinary as someone sending their lover flowers. "Close-call assassins" are actually their own profession, expert professionals just as much as actual full-service assassins. Ordinary assassins do take close-call gigs as well, of course, but if you really want to scare the shit out of someone you hate without actually harming them much, you hire a professional. And they cost extra.

You, however, are not a professional close-caller. Your main patron can't afford one of those. You're just a regular assassin. A really, really incompetent one. Your patron keeps hiring you to try to kill their ex, knowing fully well that you botch up the job every time. And your patron is determined to convince their ex that they're rich enough to hire a close-call specialist after their ass at least once per month, just to say "fuck you."

[probablyasocialecologist]

After nearly 15 years, Uber claims it’s finally turned an annual profit. Between 2014 and 2023, the company set over $31 billion on fire in its quest to drive taxi companies out of business and build a global monopoly. It failed on both fronts, but in the meantime it built an organization that can wield significant power over transportation — and that’s exactly how it got to last week’s milestone. Uber turned a net profit of nearly $1.9 billion in 2023, but what few of the headlines will tell you is that over $1.6 billion of it came from unrealized gains from its holdings in companies like Aurora and Didi. Basically, the value of those shares are up, so on paper it looks like Uber’s core business made a lot more money than it actually did. Whether the companies are really worth that much is another question entirely — but that doesn’t matter to Uber. At least it’s not using the much more deceptive “adjusted EBITDA” metric it spent years getting the media to treat as an accurate picture of its finances. Don’t be fooled into thinking the supposed innovation Uber was meant to deliver is finally bearing fruit. The profit it’s reporting is purely due to exploitative business practices where the worker and consumer are squeezed to serve investors — and technology is the tool to do it. This is the moment CEO Dara Khosrowshahi has been working toward for years, and the plan he’s trying to implement to cement the company’s position should have us all concerned about the future of how we get around and how we work.

[...]

Uber didn’t become a global player in transportation because it wielded technology to more efficiently deliver services to the public. The tens of billions of dollars it lost over the past decade went into undercutting taxis on price and drawing drivers to its service — including some taxi drivers — by promising good wages, only to cut them once the competition posed by taxis had been eroded and consumers had gotten used to turning to the Uber app instead of calling or hailing a cab. As transport analyst Hubert Horan outlined, for-hire rides are not a service that can take advantage of economies of scale like a software or logistics company, meaning just because you deliver more rides doesn’t mean the per-ride cost gets significantly cheaper. Uber actually created a less cost-efficient model because it forces drivers to use their own vehicles and buy their own insurance instead of having a fleet of similar vehicles covered by fleet insurance. Plus, it has a ton of costs your average taxi company doesn’t: a high-paid tech workforce, expensive headquarters scattered around the world, and outrageously compensated executive management like Khosrowshahi, just to name a few. How did Uber cut costs then? By systematically going after the workers that deliver its service. More recently, it took advantage of the cost-of-living crisis to keep them on board in the same way it exploited workers left behind by the financial crisis in the years after its initial launch. Its only real innovation is finding new ways to exploit labor.

[themoonsbeloved]

I still need help

Its now the 8th of January and despite being told by my friend who spoke with her boss 3 weeks ago during their meeting that he was to hire me in the beginning of January and would reach out to me, he hasn't. I'm hoping somehow, eventually, when this man finally bothers to, he will contact me for a job offer since he reassured me back in november that he still intends to hire me. But since I have no idea when that will be, that means I'm left hanging completely.

long story short I am mentally ill and disabled who was dismissed from my last and only job that I struggled 2 years to get, only to be fired in 2 months in June because of my chronic fatigue and abusive managers. I rely a lot on my henna but bookings are not consistent enough to make regular income, and majority of the money ends up going to contributing to house bills for my family.

My therapy picks up again this week, very honestly been the only thing keeping me from harming myself at this point with how painful life has been and I want to be able to continue getting it low cost (£25 per session), my therapist is so amazing and we recently came to the understanding that I have complex-PTSD, and plan to look into it more this year. I'm too mentally ill to try and look for jobs right now and am basically doing 3 jobs already (one being joint caring duties with family members for my grandparents since I live with them, which I'm not paid for obviously) with inconsistent money coming in/sessional work that I will be paid for once completed further into the year.

I have so many other costs that are coming in the near future, like paying for more medication, and for more lazer hair removal sessions for my severe hirsutism, which usually is around £300 if I'm lucky to catch offers. This is another I thing I mentally can't afford to stop doing, struggling with severe hirsutism and the trauma of it all my life means its important I can feel and live somewhat comfortably in my body. Lazer hair isn't permanent and I'm looking into electrolysis, but again, I don't have that money yet and would prefer to not leave a huge gap where I don't do lazer and the mental torture of watching my body hair grow back. I also haven't gotten my eyes checked in over 3 years, and know I will need a change in perscription and need new glasses. I hate nothing more than what its come to. I'm just exhausted and burnt out from the constant anxiety and depressive episodes, I'm barely eating or sleeping, I'm sick of everything and everyone and I just wish god would give me a break.

With all of the above in mind I'm aiming for about £600. This is all basically to help me just function and continue getting the things that help me not succumb to my mental health issues. If anything, my birthday's coming up in feb so I would appreciate it if folks gave some money if they have the means to. Anything is fine at this point.

Thank you so much

https://paypal.me/iffiia?country.x=GB&locale.x=en_GB

£0/£600

[kneelingshadowsalome]

hi!! 🩷 i've been playing skyrim so much just for comfort and all i can think of is former mercenary könig who now has a farm and a huge house where you have a personal library and a garden and an alchemy table because you're his pretty mage wife <3

or könig who's still a mercenary, this huge scary nord who always has war paint all over his face even with a hood on, only uses two-handed weapons etc. and you're possibly just a mage who needs to explore a bunch of ruins so you have to spend most of your money to hire him and all of your courage to even talk to him about the job in the first place.

SHUT UP I LOVE SKYRIM

Ugh he def proposed to you under the auroras or when you were enjoying a rest at some secret grotto. Held an awkward “I want to spend the rest of my life with you” speech right after you emerged from a stream with nothing on (König stole a glance or two from the banks after promising he wouldn’t look, the big pervert)

He’ll carry anything you give him, and loves it when you make him a homecooked meal <3 Poses as a rough Nord but is always happy to arrive home after adventuring, sleep and fuck you on a cozy comfy bed that has a soft straw mattress with some mountain flowers tucked in it.

Is a bit skeptical about your magic and potions tho, König never understood those things and you dabbling with them makes him think you’re some sort of witch, soon luring him into a trap with your enchanting eyes :/ That’s why it took months before he finally threw caution to the wind and rutted you in the hot springs near Kynesgrove...

He just couldn’t take it anymore, his flirty little mage being such a tease :( Do you even know how many times he had to fap himself to sleep under the furs? ...While you slept soundly not a few feet away, unsuspecting and sweet? Always walked ahead of him so that he had a hard time keeping an eye for the bandits because your ass was swaying right there under his nose >:(

Paws itching to touch you, he especially hated when you sought out a tavern and started to chat with townsfolk or flirt with men to hear rumours. Either cheeky or far too innocent to be travelling with someone like him, you proposed that you pay for single room only and sleep in the same bed to save costs.

Sometimes snuggling closer for some body heat, you didn't get intimidated by the obvious boner soon swelling between you. You even dared to comment on how hairy he was, and fell asleep with a soft smile on your face, pressed snug against his chest. In the morning, you cupped his ass and he had to get a little gruff, warn you that he’ll fuck you until the bed breaks if you’re not careful (that finally got you to your senses, but only for a few days)

He always wanted to build you a proper house, a manor even, steal you away from all the diplomatic nonsense and dangers, he even put some coin to the side so he could someday offer you a safe, happy life away from all this. You could have your own chickens and leeks, he could make you a little alchemy lab too, you’d look so cute perched on some bench with your nose in a book <3 So imagine how his heart soared when you whispered 'yes' to his proposal, König was sure you’d just vaguely tease him about it as per usual!