#Tesla Home Charging
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#ev charger Melbourne#electric vehicle charger#tesla wall connector#tesla car charger#tesla gen 3 wall connector#ev charging solution melbourne#home ev charger melbourne#ev car charger#ev charger installation#tesla car charger installation
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2025 Toyota Camry XSE: 600+ Miles of Range in a Sedan You’ll Love
The 2025 Toyota Camry Hybrid is all that flash, but after testing it this week, we think consumers will really respond to its combination of versatility, fun-to-drive, and incredible fuel economy. The Environmental Protection Agency says it has a range of more than 600 miles on a tankful of gas. At the same time, Host Jack Nerad found it delivered excellent performance with more brio than you…
#2024 Volvo C40 recharge#2025 Honda Prologue#2025 Toyota Camry XSE#home-charging#Kia Motors#NACTOY#NHTSA#North American Car of the Year#ocean waste#Tesla Motors
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Adept Electrical Solutions offers seamless electric car charger installation services, ensuring efficiency and reliability. Trust us for expert solutions in electrifying your journey towards sustainable transportation. More at https://bit.ly/3TkPW6E
#ev charger installation#tesla charger installation#car charger installation#ev charging station installation#ev home charger installation
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Epyz Solar Light Outdoor Hanging Vintage Metal Solar Lantern Light with Waterproof Edison Bulb Decorative for Patio, Backyard [ Warm Yellow Light , Pack of 1 ]
Price: (as of – Details) Product Description 【Classic And Retro Edison Design】: Retro style lantern design + warm white tungsten light bulb, add warm brilliance. This Solar Lantern can be hung on anywhere you want, decorate your gorgeous life with a more romantic atmosphere, show your exquisite taste to your guest.【Solar Powered】: Solar hanging lantern with the automatic light sensor function,…
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#portable solar charger#portable solar generator#portable solar inverter#portable solar light#portable solar mobile charger#portable solar panel#portable solar panel for campervan#portable solar panel for camping#portable solar panel for caravan#portable solar panel for hiking#portable solar panel for home#portable solar panel for leisure battery#portable solar panel for rv#portable solar panel for tesla#portable solar panels for ev charging#portable solar power generator#portable solar water heater
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Tektronix Technologies: Electric vehicle chargers and installations available throughout Dubai, Abu Dhabi and the rest of UAE
Tektronix Technologies operates throughout Dubai, Abu Dhabi and throughout the UAE and has earned an exceptional reputation as a reliable source for electric vehicle (EV) chargers and installations. Our vast expertise makes them the top choice among businesses, individuals and companies looking into adopting electric mobility. Through a focus on customer service as well as highly qualified specialists working for them Tektronix Technologies ensures each system can be customized specifically for each individual customer - be it residential home charging options to commercial installations Tektronix has you covered with experience to guarantee maximum results every time!
Chargers for electric vehicle in the UAE. A brief overview.
Increase in Demand of Electric Vehicles in UAE
The United Arab Emirates has seen an explosion in electric vehicle usage recently. Thanks to an emphasis by government officials on sustainable transportation coupled with rising numbers of electric vehicle models on the market, increasing numbers of people have transitioned from gas or hybrid car mobility into electrified mobility. As usage rises exponentially it becomes vital that an adequate and secure charging infrastructure be put in place; hence EV chargers play such an integral role as they ensure efficient charge for owners of EV cars.
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ev charger for home
fast EV charger
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Tesla's Dieselgate
Elon Musk lies a lot. He lies about being a “utopian socialist.” He lies about being a “free speech absolutist.” He lies about which companies he founded:
https://www.businessinsider.com/tesla-cofounder-martin-eberhard-interview-history-elon-musk-ev-market-2023-2 He lies about being the “chief engineer” of those companies:
https://www.quora.com/Was-Elon-Musk-the-actual-engineer-behind-SpaceX-and-Tesla
He lies about really stupid stuff, like claiming that comsats that share the same spectrum will deliver steady broadband speeds as they add more users who each get a narrower slice of that spectrum:
https://www.eff.org/wp/case-fiber-home-today-why-fiber-superior-medium-21st-century-broadband
The fundamental laws of physics don’t care about this bullshit, but people do. The comsat lie convinced a bunch of people that pulling fiber to all our homes is literally impossible — as though the electrical and phone lines that come to our homes now were installed by an ancient, lost civilization. Pulling new cabling isn’t a mysterious art, like embalming pharaohs. We do it all the time. One of the poorest places in America installed universal fiber with a mule named “Ole Bub”:
https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us
Previous tech barons had “reality distortion fields,” but Musk just blithely contradicts himself and pretends he isn’t doing so, like a budget Steve Jobs. There’s an entire site devoted to cataloging Musk’s public lies:
https://elonmusk.today/
But while Musk lacks the charm of earlier Silicon Valley grifters, he’s much better than they ever were at running a long con. For years, he’s been promising “full self driving…next year.”
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money
He’s hasn’t delivered, but he keeps claiming he has, making Teslas some of the deadliest cars on the road:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/06/10/tesla-autopilot-crashes-elon-musk/
Tesla is a giant shell-game masquerading as a car company. The important thing about Tesla isn’t its cars, it’s Tesla’s business arrangement, the Tesla-Financial Complex:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/24/no-puedo-pagar-no-pagara/#Rat
Once you start unpacking Tesla’s balance sheets, you start to realize how much the company depends on government subsidies and tax-breaks, combined with selling carbon credits that make huge, planet-destroying SUVs possible, under the pretense that this is somehow good for the environment:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy
But even with all those financial shenanigans, Tesla’s got an absurdly high valuation, soaring at times to 1600x its profitability:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/15/hoover-calling/#intangibles
That valuation represents a bet on Tesla’s ability to extract ever-higher rents from its customers. Take Tesla’s batteries: you pay for the battery when you buy your car, but you don’t own that battery. You have to rent the right to use its full capacity, with Tesla reserving the right to reduce how far you go on a charge based on your willingness to pay:
https://memex.craphound.com/2017/09/10/teslas-demon-haunted-cars-in-irmas-path-get-a-temporary-battery-life-boost/
That’s just one of the many rent-a-features that Tesla drivers have to shell out for. You don’t own your car at all: when you sell it as a used vehicle, Tesla strips out these features you paid for and makes the next driver pay again, reducing the value of your used car and transfering it to Tesla’s shareholders:
https://www.theverge.com/2020/2/6/21127243/tesla-model-s-autopilot-disabled-remotely-used-car-update
To maintain this rent-extraction racket, Tesla uses DRM that makes it a felony to alter your own car’s software without Tesla’s permission. This is the root of all autoenshittification:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
This is technofeudalism. Whereas capitalists seek profits (income from selling things), feudalists seek rents (income from owning the things other people use). If Telsa were a capitalist enterprise, then entrepreneurs could enter the market and sell mods that let you unlock the functionality in your own car:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/11/1-in-3/#boost-50
But because Tesla is a feudal enterprise, capitalists must first secure permission from the fief, Elon Musk, who decides which companies are allowed to compete with him, and how.
Once a company owns the right to decide which software you can run, there’s no limit to the ways it can extract rent from you. Blocking you from changing your device’s software lets a company run overt scams on you. For example, they can block you from getting your car independently repaired with third-party parts.
But they can also screw you in sneaky ways. Once a device has DRM on it, Section 1201 of the DMCA makes it a felony to bypass that DRM, even for legitimate purposes. That means that your DRM-locked device can spy on you, and because no one is allowed to explore how that surveillance works, the manufacturer can be incredibly sloppy with all the personal info they gather:
https://www.cnbc.com/2019/03/29/tesla-model-3-keeps-data-like-crash-videos-location-phone-contacts.html
All kinds of hidden anti-features can lurk in your DRM-locked car, protected from discovery, analysis and criticism by the illegality of bypassing the DRM. For example, Teslas have a hidden feature that lets them lock out their owners and summon a repo man to drive them away if you have a dispute about a late payment:
https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/
DRM is a gun on the mantlepiece in Act I, and by Act III, it goes off, revealing some kind of ugly and often dangerous scam. Remember Dieselgate? Volkswagen created a line of demon-haunted cars: if they thought they were being scrutinized (by regulators measuring their emissions), they switched into a mode that traded performance for low emissions. But when they believed themselves to be unobserved, they reversed this, emitting deadly levels of NOX but delivering superior mileage.
The conversion of the VW diesel fleet into mobile gas-chambers wouldn’t have been possible without DRM. DRM adds a layer of serious criminal jeopardy to anyone attempting to reverse-engineer and study any device, from a phone to a car. DRM let Apple claim to be a champion of its users’ privacy even as it spied on them from asshole to appetite:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar
Now, Tesla is having its own Dieselgate scandal. A stunning investigation by Steve Stecklow and Norihiko Shirouzu for Reuters reveals how Tesla was able to create its own demon-haunted car, which systematically deceived drivers about its driving range, and the increasingly desperate measures the company turned to as customers discovered the ruse:
https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/tesla-batteries-range/
The root of the deception is very simple: Tesla mis-sells its cars by falsely claiming ranges that those cars can’t attain. Every person who ever bought a Tesla was defrauded.
But this fraud would be easy to detect. If you bought a Tesla rated for 353 miles on a charge, but the dashboard range predictor told you that your fully charged car could only go 150 miles, you’d immediately figure something was up. So your Telsa tells another lie: the range predictor tells you that you can go 353 miles.
But again, if the car continued to tell you it has 203 miles of range when it was about to run out of charge, you’d figure something was up pretty quick — like, the first time your car ran out of battery while the dashboard cheerily informed you that you had 203 miles of range left.
So Teslas tell a third lie: when the battery charge reached about 50%, the fake range is replaced with the real one. That way, drivers aren’t getting mass-stranded by the roadside, and the scam can continue.
But there’s a new problem: drivers whose cars are rated for 353 miles but can’t go anything like that far on a full charge naturally assume that something is wrong with their cars, so they start calling Tesla service and asking to have the car checked over.
This creates a problem for Tesla: those service calls can cost the company $1,000, and of course, there’s nothing wrong with the car. It’s performing exactly as designed. So Tesla created its boldest fraud yet: a boiler-room full of anti-salespeople charged with convincing people that their cars weren’t broken.
This new unit — the “diversion team” — was headquartered in a Nevada satellite office, which was equipped with a metal xylophone that would be rung in triumph every time a Tesla owner was successfully conned into thinking that their car wasn’t defrauding them.
When a Tesla owner called this boiler room, the diverter would run remote diagnostics on their car, then pronounce it fine, and chide the driver for having energy-hungry driving habits (shades of Steve Jobs’s “You’re holding it wrong”):
https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/
The drivers who called the Diversion Team weren’t just lied to, they were also punished. The Tesla app was silently altered so that anyone who filed a complaint about their car’s range was no longer able to book a service appointment for any reason. If their car malfunctioned, they’d have to request a callback, which could take several days.
Meanwhile, the diverters on the diversion team were instructed not to inform drivers if the remote diagnostics they performed detected any other defects in the cars.
The diversion team had a 750 complaint/week quota: to juke this stat, diverters would close the case for any driver who failed to answer the phone when they were eventually called back. The center received 2,000+ calls every week. Diverters were ordered to keep calls to five minutes or less.
Eventually, diverters were ordered to cease performing any remote diagnostics on drivers’ cars: a source told Reuters that “Thousands of customers were told there is nothing wrong with their car” without any diagnostics being performed.
Predicting EV range is an inexact science as many factors can affect battery life, notably whether a journey is uphill or downhill. Every EV automaker has to come up with a figure that represents some kind of best guess under a mix of conditions. But while other manufacturers err on the side of caution, Tesla has the most inaccurate mileage estimates in the industry, double the industry average.
Other countries’ regulators have taken note. In Korea, Tesla was fined millions and Elon Musk was personally required to state that he had deceived Tesla buyers. The Korean regulator found that the true range of Teslas under normal winter conditions was less than half of the claimed range.
Now, many companies have been run by malignant narcissists who lied compulsively — think of Thomas Edison, archnemesis of Nikola Tesla himself. The difference here isn’t merely that Musk is a deeply unfit monster of a human being — but rather, that DRM allows him to defraud his customers behind a state-enforced opaque veil. The digital computers at the heart of a Tesla aren’t just demons haunting the car, changing its performance based on whether it believes it is being observed — they also allow Musk to invoke the power of the US government to felonize anyone who tries to peer into the black box where he commits his frauds.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world
This Sunday (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.
Image ID [A scene out of an 11th century tome on demon-summoning called 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros. Anno 1057. Noli me tangere.' It depicts a demon tormenting two unlucky would-be demon-summoners who have dug up a grave in a graveyard. One summoner is held aloft by his hair, screaming; the other screams from inside the grave he is digging up. The scene has been altered to remove the demon's prominent, urinating penis, to add in a Tesla supercharger, and a red Tesla Model S nosing into the scene.]
Image: Steve Jurvetson (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tesla_Model_S_Indoors.jpg
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en
#pluralistic#steve stecklow#autoenshittification#norihiko shirouzu#reuters#you're holding it wrong#r2r#right to repair#range rage#range anxiety#grifters#demon-haunted world#drm#tpms#1201#dmca 1201#tesla#evs#electric vehicles#ftc act section 5#unfair and deceptive practices#automotive#enshittification#elon musk
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Model 3 Tesla: Cost, Range, Performance, and Supercharging Explained
Are you considering purchasing a Model 3 Tesla? If so, you're probably curious about the cost and the features that make it such a popular choice among electric vehicle enthusiasts. In this article, we'll delve into the details of the Model 3, including i
Are you considering purchasing a Model 3 Tesla? If so, you’re probably curious about the cost and the features that make it such a popular choice among electric vehicle enthusiasts. In this article, we’ll delve into the details of the Model 3, including its price, range, performance, and handling. We’ll also explore its comfortable seating and spacious interior, as well as its access to Tesla’s…
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#Are there any government incentives available for purchasing a Model 3 Tesla?#Can I charge my Model 3 Tesla at home?#Can I lease a Model 3 Tesla?#How long does it take to charge a Model 3 Tesla at a Supercharger station?#Is the Model 3 Tesla suitable for long road trips?
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Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:
Those are the very facts surrounding Matthew Livelsberger’s actions on New Years Day outside the Trump hotel in Las Vegas. Yet corporate media refuses to use words “MAGA terrorism”—and many are leaving out of their reporting the full details of Livelsberger’s final bone-chilling notes. We now know many of the key facts in connection with 37 year-old Livelsberger—whose Uncle explained “loved” Trump. He was a career Army Special Forces master sergeant who served three tours in Afghanistan and was decorated by the Army for valor. Reportedly, he suffered from some form of PTSD that likely drove him to take his own life by shooting himself while in the Tesla truck. Tragically, nearly 20 veterans each day in the United States commit suicide.
But Livelsberger didn’t commit suicide like many others in a spur of the moment event or in a private setting like a home. This was part of plot hatched over time. As FBI Special Agent In Charge Spencer Evans stated Friday, “It’s evident that [Livelsberger] considered, planned, and thoughtfully prepared for this act.” [...]
Livelsberger wrote point bank in a note he directed to, “Fellow Servicemembers, Veterans, and all Americans” that it’s, “TIME TO WAKE UP!” He continued on to explain, “This was not a terrorist attack, it was a wake up call. Americans only pay attention to spectacles and violence. What better way to get my point across than a stunt with fireworks and explosives?” But the corporate media articles almost all ignored other parts of his note and instead focused on his next comment: “Why did I personally do it now? I needed to cleanse my mind of the brothers I’ve lost and relieve myself of the burden of the lives I took.”
That is misleading reporting on a few counts. First, most articles leave out that in the next line, Livelsberger pledged his allegiance to Trump and the MAGA agenda and urged others to do the same. Livelsberger wrote, “Consider this last sunset of ’24 and my actions the end of our sickness and a new chapter of health for our people. Rally around the Trump, Musk, Kennedy, and ride this wave to the highest hegemony for all Americans!” (Boldface added.) Livelsberger was urging people in his last words to support Trump and other MAGA leaders. His note also amplified the MAGA agenda such as writing “DEl is a cancer” and he labeled Vice President Harris “the DEl candidate” who “thankfully we rejected.” He mocked Biden by referring to him as “Weekend at Bernie’s,” while sharing joy about Trump’s win, claiming now we will have a “real President.”
But the most alarming and sinister parts of his notes have been barely covered by the media. For example, under his call for “Fellow Servicemembers, Veterans, and all Americans” to “wake up,” he urged them to head to Washington, D.C. to “purge” the government and military from those who oppose them. He wrote, “Military and vets move on DC starting now. Militias facilitate and augment this activity.” He demanded them take control of the facilities until “the purge is complete.”
Those ominous words are made more concerning by the lines that followed. Livelsberger made it explicitly clear that the target of this purge are Democrats—who if they won’t give up power peacefully, force must be used. He wrote, “Try peaceful means first, but be prepared to fight to get the Dems out of the fed government and military by any means necessary.” He added, “They all must go and a hard reset must occur for our country to avoid collapse.” [...] In contrast, in the case of the New Orleans attacker Shamsud Din-Jabbar who drove his rented truck into the crowd on New Years Day and killed 14 people, he has rightfully been labeled a terrorist given videos showing him swearing allegiance to ISIS and his goal being to further their sick agenda. In some parts of corporate media, there has been nuanced coverage of what led him to this dark place from personal to financial issues, etc. But the coverage still includes—rightfully—a look into what radicalized him in the hopes of preventing ISIS from successfully recruiting others in the future.
The Las Vegas Trump International Hotel Tesla Cybertruck bombing was a MAGA-inspired terrorist attack, as the perpetrator Matthew Livelsberger was a die hard MAGA cultist seeking to inspire people to violently remove Democrats and anti-Trump forces from the world.
See Also:
Mediaite: ‘WAKE UP!’ Read the Trump Hotel Bomber’s Chilling Messages Calling on ‘Militias’ to ‘Purge’ D.C. of Democrats
#Matthew Livelsberger#Tesla#Right Wing Extremism#Right Wing Terrorism#Las Vegas#Terrorism#Las Vegas Tesla Cybertruck Explosion#Shamsud Din Jabbar#New Orleans Truck Attack
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This 👆 guy puts it into perspective...
1 single Tesla charging station = 280 homes worth of power.
Electric Vehicles are a scam for control and it needs to be stopped NOW! 🤔
#pay attention#educate yourselves#educate yourself#knowledge is power#reeducate yourself#reeducate yourselves#think about it#think for yourselves#think for yourself#do your homework#do some research#do your own research#ask yourself questions#question everything#electric vehicles#scam#lies exposed
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧?
originally a commission, repurposed for readervision! writing about the ladies is fun and i should really do it more often, mhm.
notes -> pls i always forget she's 6'1", that's so frickin hot, my gawd
pairing -> quanxi x afab!time-traveler!reader*
warnings -> nsfw (18+, mdni), praise/nicknames used (*good girl), thigh riding, oral sex (reader receiving), orgasm denial, scissoring/tribbing; partial inebriation (alcohol consumption); light editing.
wc -> 4.5k
The modes of transportation in this place are… dated.
So used to seeing the various Tesla models zipping about, or the suddenly extremely common Honda Civic models, you found yourself staring a little harder at the ones that lined the street. All too obviously, the dilapidated street signs around you indicated your new location being somewhere in China. Still, there’d been an aged familiarity about the place, about all of it, from the specific way the splits in the sidewalk crackle from one end to the other, to how the trees willow overtop of them like old, gnarled hands. The glow from the street lights are all equally dull, and do little to highlight the filth the asphalt roads hold. The houses, in their decaying, years left untouched glory, are still cookie cutter enough to say that it once might’ve been a place that people both lived and thrived in— if anything, they might just exist there now. The bare minimum for any species.
But then you look in the distance, past the caved-in roofs, past the loose, swaying electrical lines and through the smog, find the fluorescent lights of the city resting just outside the horizon of this dystopian suburbia, and find that you feel at home, your own having been bright just like that.
You suppose that being at arms with a stranger in the middle of what you can only deem some kind of cacotopia must not be real. A dream or a hallucination— a nightmare, perhaps. The fact that you’ve never been to this place, this time or era, and yet, it’d been familiar. This partial hell scape with its scarred roads and patchwork housing, stuck in its darkened stasis of a temporary ceasefire? Wondering what kind of dream beasts this realm holds was unavoidable from the start, but at the very least, it still includes those in human form.
Your foe is formidable-- or, your predator, you should say. Armed thrice and practically naked in consideration for their lack of armour, wearing a thin shirt that exposes her midriff and tight black trousers, and with their one eye obscured by an eyepatch, they’re still as swift as a shadow when they charge forward, one blade extended, the other held in reverse against their forearm— usually a predictability. But they’re enough of a threat to you that you don’t bother to analyze much else any further.
If not for obeying modern physics, the stone at your feet would’ve split from the impact of your own harsh landing— without a weapon or defense of your own, you scamper out of the way of the woman’s sword, gasping at the close call. If anything, being in this strange place for so long, and being targeted by strange looking creatures and even stranger humans, has made you adept at avoiding harm.
You’re not entirely sure you can avoid it any further. You watch the attacker sheathe their defending sword and reach up toward their one exposed eye to— to… extract an arrow from within her skull, so easily as if it’d been normal to “store” it there.
“Don’t lose focus now,” they call — she calls, you finally learn, from your own language; she’d recognized it when you’d cursed at her earlier. A couple of obvious tonal sounds and inflections double down on you being somewhere in China. “I’ll be disappointed if you suddenly let me kill you, stranger.”
Slim, yet muscular. Long blonde hair. A gaze most distant, yet she still smiles, even in the middle of battle. Human? With that ability of hers, it’s unlikely; you’ve learned to differentiate that much, as short a time as you’ve spent here.
Amidst their game of cat and mouse, you can’t help but wonder if the area had been evacuated prior to Quanxi’s arrival, as if she’d been prepared to give chase, or even worse, as if she’d been prepared to fight. You don’t doubt the possibility of the woman having some kind of pull or authority in this time; as perhaps unprepared and bare as she appears, her skillset had quickly been proven. Being locked in at a coward’s stalemate for as long as you’d been, Can’t this end already?
“Please,” you pant, a hand poised in a pleading gesture. “Please stop.” The woman’s one visible eyebrow raises, her expression remaining placid. A moment later, she’s sheathing her blades.
“That’s fine with me,” she says, straightening up. “I’m pretty fond of this outfit and I’ve already scuffed the knees; it would be a shame if I tore anything else. You seem like… the civilized type, when you’re not running away. And if that’s the case, we should introduce ourselves.”
You give yours first, eager to catch your breath. The woman smiles.
“I am Quanxi. Now, tell me. The name of the Devil you’ve contracted with.”
Your expression hardens. “Devil?” you repeat.
Quanxi does not doubt further the woman’s seemingly earnest confusion. She already looks like she’s not from the area, and certainly not necessarily a native from China, either. In fact, it’d been more like she’s stepped out of one of those futuristic, science fiction movies. Your entire existence did not belong here.
Your tired vision sweeps along the street before rising to stare at Quanxi. “Where is this place?”
Testing, “Do you mean this street? This… neighbourhood? Or this world?” You don’t answer, unable. The silence, accompanied with the difficult read on the foreigner’s partial expression, is an answer enough. “It’s called Earth.”
“I know this is Earth.”
Quanxi’s lip quirks. “Then this place that you’re currently standing in, is in China. And this street, well… I’m not sure the name matters anymore. No one’s lived here in years.”
She watches you, a silence spread taut like a fishing line through the middle of your conversation as you ponder, before cutting it.
“Listen. I’m glad you decided to stop running away,” your lip curls slightly at the curtness in her words, but you don't interrupt, “but since we’ve established that you’re not from the area, and since I don’t see a… spaceship… parked anywhere… you’re probably not an alien. But, you’ve also probably got nowhere to go, hm?”
“… that’s, unfortunately, correct,” you murmur, sighing. What a headache…
“And it doesn’t seem like you’re looking to cause any trouble. Right?”
“I’m kind of in some trouble of my own, if you haven’t noticed,” you point out.
“Fair enough. Then, I’ll do you a favour. If you’d be reasonable enough to not do something as stupid as try to murder me in my sleep, I’ll invite you into my home.”
Try? I could barely run away from you.
“I’ll have to attend to some business in the morning outside the country, but, if you’re a good girl tonight, you’re welcome to stay there while I’m gone.” Your lips part to speak at the woman’s condescension, but by the absurdity of your situation, you find yourself unable to spit the words dancing behind your teeth back at her. Good girl?
“Do you need a physical invitation?” Quanxi says; you hadn’t realized she’d already begun to walk, and soundlessly trails after her. “Good.” Again? “I’ve parked several blocks north of here; it’s about a five minute walk if you’re fast about it.”
“Okay.” True to her estimation, once they’d picked up their pace, they found a sleek black automobile awaiting them only four blocks away. Compared to the older modeled cars you’ve passed, this one is at least twenty years ahead of their design.
Quanxi enters on her side before you can even open the passenger side door, and by the time you sit and shut the door behind you, the car has already belted to life, a soft rumbling heard from within its metal shell. A gear shifts, and they move.
The drive out of the dark neighbourhood where you first appeared, and into the glowing city you’d seen from afar is about three times as long as the walk had been. The luminance of the artificial light happens to be intense enough to make you squint so hard that your eyes become slits.
“Depending on how long you’re here for, you might end up getting used to it,” Quanxi says. You turn your head toward her. “Ah, well, I shouldn’t assume you don’t have these in your own home; apologies. Just, don’t stare at these ones directly. They’re definitely not up to code.”
You nod, glancing forward again.
“You aren’t very… chatty, are you,” Quanxi speculates, lowering one of her hands from the wheel to rest in her own lap.
“It’s… hard to think of something to talk about in my situation,” you say, wringing your wrists a little. “Small talk and idle conversations… is even harder.”
“You could always ask more questions.”
“I… can’t think of any.”
“Or ask if I know of a way to return you to your home.”
“And do you?”
“No. I can do a lot, but time travel?” Quanxi scoffs lightly. “Science fiction, for now. Maybe there’s a Devil out there that can do that. But, you could still have bothered to begin that conversation to see if I did.”
You pause. “Is this all a condition of me staying with you? Talking, asking questions…”
“Not at all. Simply makes for better company.”
You scoff, too, and fold your arms over your chest. “Aren’t you worried I’ll destroy your home while you’re gone? Or rob you?”
Quanxi chuckles. “Not at all. You might be lonely when I do, however. By how you greeted me earlier tonight, I should at least make sure my housekeeper doesn’t spook you away into, I don’t know, jumping out the window.”
“If I didn’t value my life, I wouldn’t have run away from you like I did. Why would I jump out the window…” The question hangs in the air, apparently a rhetorical quip.
The rest of the drive is completed in one-sided silence, Quanxi filling it with her own voice when she explains, unwarranted, the existence of Devils and what she’d meant when she’d asked you about a “contract”. It does make sense (and perhaps your interest in the subject did prove that you did have some curiosities), but you still had found yourself verily unwilling to engage in conversation, leaving your thoughts to race wildly beneath your skull.
In contrast to the surrounding buildings, Quanxi’s is not nearly as vibrant. The only lights come from the large fixed windows pressed tight between the dark brickwork; signs of life that neighbourhood from before had sorely been missing. Even the streets, despite the time, are flooded with chattering humans.
“We’re here, get out,” Quanxi says, putting the car into park and exiting it, herself. You join her on the sidewalk, where she’d just given a man a set of keys. In the corner of her vision, you watch him replace where Quanxi once sat, and drive off with her car, while the two of you enter the building.
“I’m on the penthouse level,” she tells you after pressing a button on the wall of the elevator. “It’s nothing fancy. Comfortable enough when I come home from an assignment, and for my—” Quanxi goes silent. You notice, but don’t press. The elevator chimes, announcing their arrival to the topmost level, and the doors open. “This way.”
There’s a keypad on the door, for which Quanxi types a particularly long code into before it beeps at them to enter. Whereas you take off your own boots and set them aside, Quanxi toes hers off and kicks them to the side, knocking yours over.
“A drink?” Quanxi offers.
“… water is fine.”
The penthouse is minimalist and simple, as its owner mentioned it would be. A simple living area full of couches and irregularly shaped chairs; a simple bedroom, raised up, across the room in a loft space. The bathroom and kitchen end up being the fanciest of the space, full of shining metal appliances and smooth surfaces, as white as the moon, itself.
There are but a few adornments and decorations, and you find that across the apartment, there are only a handful of photographs framed and sitting atop a long cabinet, two of which had been turned down— you recall Quanxi doing so as she’d entered ahead of you. Not one to pry — you know just as well as anyone what dredging up old memories does to a person — and with Quanxi busying herself in her kitchen, you cross over to them and quickly tip them up. Both have the woman pressed between four other girls, all with varyingly unexplainable appearances — why are her brains exposed? — but they all easily express their fondness for Quanxi.
“It’s like you’ve never been invited into someone’s home before,” Quanxi suddenly calls from around the corner. You flinch, and without making eye contact, set the frames back down with care. “It should go without me having to say the words “don’t touch anything unnecessary”.”
“Sorry,” you say.
Quanxi sighs, and extends her arm to hand the stranger a glass of clear liquid. “It’s fine. Just don’t touch them again. And try not to get curious enough that you want to ask about… them.”
You accept the glass, nodding, and take a generous gulp from it, immediately reeling.
“This isn’t water,” you say, swallowing thickly, your throat catching from the burn.
“It’s baijiu. Figured you could probably use some to relax while you’re here.” You instantly cough.
“Relax?”
“It’s not like you’ll be able to figure anything out tonight, not this late. And, not if you’re still wired into fight or flight mode. Drink this. If you’re hungry, there’s food in the fridge you can help yourself to. The bathroom is around the corner. Go and shower. I’ll grab you a change of clothing.”
Not that it’d been so severely important to, but you silently admit to her observations. Being sent stuck here and almost immediately thrust into one-sided combat against this strange woman, to being invited to her home for reprieve, has kept you tiptoeing on a jagged edge, teetering more to one side than the other. It’s discomforting. Unfamiliar.
You down the clear liquid in the glass before stalking into Quanxi’s bathroom, quick to strip yourself of your clothing before stepping into the shower. Beginning to scrub away the day’s grime from your body with a sudsy cloth, you realize you’ve yet to feel this calm thus far— must be the baijiu, you assume.
With the glass of the shower all fogged up from the steam, you don’t notice Quanxi standing in the doorway when you finally exit it. Unfocused, you jump, the towel in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp.
“I’m beginning to think,” you start, huffing out a flustered breath, “that you’re the lonely one between us.”
“Perhaps I am.” The ice in her own glass clinks against it when she takes a sip, watching you start to pat yourself dry. “I won’t argue with you. I never thought I would feel like this, even after losing them. They were only Fiends, after all. Not entirely human.”
“... does one have to be “entirely human” for someone to love them?”
“… I forgot who I was saying this to,” Quanxi muses, mostly to herself. “You’re young, after all. Insightfulness comes easier to each new generation of life.”
“Something like that,” you halfheartedly confirm, dragging the towel down each of your legs. You sigh— avoiding certain conversations may not be as easy as you’d once thought with this woman, the involvement of alcohol perhaps making it even more of a difficult probability. “Where I’m from… in my time… in my version of Earth, we don’t have different species of humans. But to be loved by anyone, by anything, even by someone non-human, is a joy, and an honour. Don’t justify them being Fiends so you don’t have to grieve over them. And… just be glad you can remember everything about them.”
She smiles back, but it’s distant; spurious. You know full well what the look is for, and decide it’s unfair to call the woman the only lonely one between them, after all.
Quanxi pushes herself off the door’s frame, stumbling very slightly out of her awkward stance.
“I was only in here for ten minutes. How did you manage to get drunk so quickly?”
“Oh, I’m not drunk,” Quanxi swears. “This is my first glass… and I’m a bit of a heavyweight. I just figure I should share some of my vulnerability with you since you’re naked in my home right now. Seems like a fair trade to me.”
You look up at her, having wrapped your head in the towel, and around the washroom.
“Your clothes. Right. I forgot to bring them in. They’re out here.”
“Could you go and grab them?”
“You’re coming back out here anyway, right? Just come and change out here.”
Your eyes narrow. The woman’s already seen her as nude as the day she’d been born, and from her own words, she now lives alone, the existence of those four girls in the photos seemingly otherwise erased from the apartment save for those photos. Being on the penthouse level on one of the tallest buildings around, it’d be unlikely for any of the neighbouring buildings to see—
“You’re overthinking it,” Quanxi calls out. “Is that something you do when you drink alcohol?”
Your attempt at sliding past her in the doorway fails, the taller of the two having lifted her arm to stop you.
“Is it?”
You sigh. Quanxi’s lip lifts into a small smile, and she drops her arm to let you pass and enter the kitchen.
“Is this where you assert yourself on me, and I lower myself into showing you my “gratitude”?” You slip on the folded burgundy tee from the counter, mentally cursing at the woman for supplying you with such a useless piece of fabric, the offending material barely reaching your navel; you shiver. “I’ve read enough fiction in my lifetime to recognize this cliché.”
“Then you must’ve read a crazy amount of sapphic erotica throughout your journey across the stars.” You shake your head and reach for the pants, ignoring Quanxi’s presence at your side. “No,” she answers, “though, I’m glad my intentions go without me having to say anything. A harmless, wordless invitation to share in a little bit of skinship with me. I won’t force you into it, but…”
In still being bare from the hips down, Quanxi dares to smooth a hand across your waist that curls an arm around your middle, and you freeze, your cool skin quick to grow warm under her touch.
“Quanxi—””It’s not lowering yourself to enjoy yourself,” she muses, right next to your ear. You blame your immodesty for the chill that sweeps down your spine. “Let me take your mind out of the stars for the night.”
It’s the alcohol. You’re drunk, too. That’s the only reason. Trying to rationalize your acceptance of the situation with false realities only embarrasses you further— you aren’t drunk. You can’t even call yourself slightly inebriated, not yet.
Then perhaps it’s your subconscious telling you to cave to Quanxi’s suggestion. To give into the strange offer of reprieve this Earth finds itself willing to give to you.
Her hands travel, soft and featherlight, across your now scalding flesh, and beneath the waistband of the sweats she’d intended on giving you. Loosening them from around your hips, she pushes them down until they slip around your ankles, and with a hand poised at the toned sculpt of her abdomen, she presses you into leaning against the counter behind you.
“Just stand there and stay pretty for me.”
Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment; not particularly keen to stop her, you lean into the hand that cups your jaw, allows her to fit her lips between yours, tries to remember the last time you’d ever kissed or had ever been kissed, and fails. With no other thoughts to keep you tethered to creating distractions for yourself, you keen forward and shift your weight onto a single foot. A small laugh huffs against your lips.
“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you,” she murmurs. You’re about to argue the opposite, that you’d only been acting agreeable for their best interest, and open your mouth; ever the opportunist, Quanxi is quick to curl her tongue to sweep along the inside of your lips before you get the chance to utter a single word. You flinch, but your own hand stays holding Quanxi’s hips against your own.
Her thighs are thick, discovering them to be more muscular than you’d first presumed when one of them press between your own and shift upward. You gasp, a soft sound, when the coarse material of Quanxi’s denim begins sliding back and forth along your bare clit; you tremble, and grips her sides just a little firmer.
“Ah, see? You don’t have to use your words to show it.”
A hand slips around to hold your neck, Quanxi pulling her mouth hard against yours, and you moan, your breaths shared with each tilt of their head and each swirl of their tongues around the other dense, purposeful. Was it the alcohol making your mind fuzzier? Making your judgment clouded? You hadn’t yearned for something this hard in much too long a time, though it did go without saying— yes, I’m enjoying myself.
You shiver at the sudden soft pecks and harsher licks at the curve of your neck, and Quanxi grinds your crotch against her bouncing thigh a little more insistently when you’d begun to shudder.
“You’re close, right? So soon?” Reluctantly, you find yourself nodding. Quanxi hums. “Not here.” She lowers her knee almost too abruptly, and releases. Your head snaps her way, frowning.
“This isn’t how I want you to come,” she explains, decidedly tugging down her own pants and kicking them away. “Too simple.”
“Why did you stop?”
“It’s only for a moment,” Quanxi assures you. She takes one of your hands and begins pulling you toward the staircase to the loft, quick to guide you along to sitting at the edge of her plush bedding. “Don’t look so frustrated, hm?”
You scoff, but it’s choked, heart still racing from your formerly impending, now lost, orgasm.
“More condescending words of yours,” you mutter, “just like earlier.”
“Condescending words from earlier…” Quanxi pauses. “Do you mean when I called you a “good girl”?”
“Yes. It was patronizing.”
“And… if I were to call you a good girl now?” Quanxi releases her hold around your wrist and, before you can pull them back (whether you were going to or not), fits her fingers through both of yours and kneels between your legs, spreading them further apart with her shoulders. Your entire body flinches, and your arms both jerk upwards with nowhere to go. “Is that still me being condescending? Or…” Quanxi tilts her head forward once more, and licks a stripe upward against your quiver. “… maybe it’s patronizing now?”
“Y-You’ve… well surpassed the definition of both of those words,” you groan.
“Maybe.” Quanxi’s tongue curls, catching on the hood of your clit. You gasp. “But look at you, my little time-traveling friend, behaving so well for me. I think this deserves a little bit of praise; a small reward.”
“Stop talking about it and give it to me, then.”
Quanxi doesn’t speak again, having suddenly busied herself with the wet kisses she supplied to your cunt. Your eyes fly upward to meet hers, tongue flicking so frustratingly calculated between your folds. You stir, arms twitching impatiently in her hold with nowhere to go— until she releases them again. Unable to help herself, you lurch forward, one hand pressing the woman between your thighs deeper into you, the other clawing at the sheets beneath you. When Quanxi goes to mumble something, not bothering to remove her tongue from against you, you send a hazy glare her way.
“Don’t talk, j-just—!” Quanxi’s grip shifts, instead to wind her arms around your thighs when your squirming becomes too uncontrolled. You cry out, a sharp noise that ends up startling you back into biting down on your own lip, as Quanxi suckles on your swollen bud. It’s impossible to stop her, to want to stop her; your hold on her head lessens, though it’s only when your legs begin to tremble in their attempt to fold shut, and when your voice catches in her throat that Quanxi finally pulls away, lips and chin glistening under the moonlight and hair slightly disheveled, and you groan again, a noise that grows progressively louder and more frustrated as the blonde rises back onto her feet.
“I never specified if you’d be the only one getting rewarded,” Quanxi points out, chuckling. “Keep your legs open.”
You manage a frown, but still hold your thighs apart for Quanxi to straddle you. Your hips buck, feeling the sudden pressure, the sudden heat and slick press against her; Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment, having been denying even herself the pleasure she’d now twice ripped away from you— punishment for the frustratingly short answers you’d provided throughout the evening.
Hands falling next to your head to grip the blanket, she rocks forward, lower back instinctively arching upon the friction finally reaching her— Quanxi moans, and you, impatient and shuddering once more, reach behind Quanxi to grab at her ass to pull her tighter into you.
“So eager,” Quanxi groans. Jerkily, she forces your shirt up over your breasts, nipples pert from your arousal, and dips her head down to wrap her lips around one, tongue swirling.
“Quanxi, I—” she pops away, gasping, hips still gyrating and pelvis grinding into yours with such a desperate fervour; she suddenly swivels herself and takes hold of your leg from under her knee, bringing it upwards. “Quanxi—”
“Go on, then,” Quanxi pants. Both mouths dripping, she takes her tongue and drags it up your calf. “Come for me, my little time-traveler.”
You choke on your breath, and your hands seize for Quanxi to hold her in position while you suddenly flip her around, grinding down on her, instead. Teeth gritted, Quanxi pulls and tugs at the sheets, moaning with the sweet relief of her own orgasm, and you tremble, crying out soft and low from the washing over of — finally, finally — your own pleasure.
Spent, you huff at the one-eyed woman when you lower herself down fully onto her pelvis. “Don’t… call me that ever again.”
Quanxi’s laugh is one of disbelief, and has you reddening above her.
“I was supposed to have an early night… I can always sleep on the plane.”
© nc-vb 2024 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.
#quanxi x reader#afab reader#quanxi x y/n#csm x reader#quanxi smut#csm smut#csm quanxi#wlw#quanxi wlw
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A quiet but smart child sequel where reader is now 11 y/o and still eerily smart, to the point in which sometimes it gets hard for the family members (except for tesla) to keep up with them
One day the school calls the family to pick the reader up because they are in trouble, but at home they find out that the reader simply corrected their teacher because he made a mistake about whatever complex subject you can think of and reader told them that it's wrong and then explained the right answer, but the teacher took it as an offense and started an argument with the reader who was still chilling because they were simply correcting a mistake 😭😭 to make it funnier, it's an odd situation because reader is usually quiet and collected at all times, not prone to arguing, and the subject they were discussing was something that a 11 year old shouldn’t even know about by any means yet the reader knows an awful lot about it
-When your family got the call at home that you had been sent to the principal’s office, they were quick to laugh, thinking it was a prank.
-When the receptionist was able to prove that this was legit and that you had gotten into trouble, your family was quickly rushing to your school.
-You had always been way… way more mature than other children your own age, preferring to sit back and learn new things rather than running around or roughhousing. And you were always so level-headed, nothing ever got you upset!
-When they walked in, Adam, Hades, Nikola, and Odin, your ‘selected guardians’ for things like this, you didn’t look bothered at all, while the principal looked exasperated, and your teacher looked furious.
-Your principal took charge, not letting your teacher get in a word in edgewise, as he had been yelling at you for the last fifteen minutes that you were disrespectful, “Y/N corrected Mr. Chungus here, multiple times in class. He believes that this is disrespectful and demanded a parent teacher conference immediately.”
-Odin glowered down at your teacher, who shrunk in his chair, intimidated before Hades spoke, “Y/N is this true?”
-You looked up and nodded, “I did- he was teaching us advanced calculus, to show us what we would have to do in a few years, claiming that if we didn’t learn what we were learning now we would never be able to learn it. He made a mistake in his calculations, and he got upset.”
-All eyes went to Mr. Chungus who was red faced, embarrassed, “Y/N didn’t have to be so rude about it- but after correcting me numerous times I had to take action.”
-Your eyes were unwavering and focused, “But sir, you were the one who claimed that none of us were able to do something so simple and kept talking down to us if we asked questions, as we wanted to learn. If it was so simple, why did you make multiple mistakes?”
-Nikola looked proud, ruffling your hair lightly as your principal turned to Mr. Chungus, a sharp look in his eye, “Is this true?”
-Mr. Chungus was quickly stammering, panicking as he had been caught, not expecting that you were going to call him out like this.
-Your principal turned to your guardians, “Y/N is free to go. I will be having a word with Mr. Chungus about his lesson plan. Y/N- is there anything you want to say to Mr. Chungus before you go?”
-They were expecting you to apologize as you stood up, “If you are going to try to demean us by showing us anything advanced, make sure nobody knows how to do it first, so nobody calls you out on it.”
-Hades quickly had to turn, hiding his laugh in a cough as the two other adults were wide eyed, but you weren’t reprimanded, as you were in the right.
-The others were quickly roaring with laughter in the ice cream parlor that Nikola insisted on taking you to, telling them all what happened.
-You didn’t think you didn’t anything worthy of celebrating; you just didn’t want anyone else to be taught wrong. You weren’t going to turn down ice cream though.
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Here's a story that may be overlooked because of the terrorist incident in New Orleans and the exploding Tesla in Las Vegas.
A MAGA nut named Brad Spafford has been arrested for stockpiling a large cache homemade explosives at his garage near Norfolk, Virginia.
Federal agents in the US found one of the largest stockpiles of homemade explosives they have ever seized when they arrested a Virginia man on a firearms charge last month, according to a court filing by federal prosecutors. Investigators seized more than 150 pipe bombs and other homemade devices when they searched the home of Brad Spafford north-west of Norfolk in December, the prosecutors said in a motion filed on Monday. The prosecutors wrote that this is believed to be “the largest seizure by number of finished explosive devices in FBI history”.
FYI: the FBI dates back almost a century. So that covers a lot of history.
Most of the bombs were found in a detached garage at the home in Isle, along with tools and bomb-making materials including fuses and pieces of plastic pipe, according to court documents. The prosecutors also wrote: “Several additional apparent pipe bombs were found in a backpack in the home’s bedroom, completely unsecured,” in the home he shares with his wife and two young children. Spafford, 36, was charged with possession of a firearm in violation of the National Firearms Act. Law enforcement officers allege he owned an unregistered short barrel rifle. Prosecutors said that he faces “numerous additional potential charges” related to the explosives.
The FBI was tipped off about Spafford by a concerned citizen.
The informant, a friend, told authorities Spafford had disfigured his hand in 2021 while working on homemade explosives. Prosecutors said he only has two fingers on his right hand. The informant told authorities that Spafford was using pictures of the president, an apparent reference to Joe Biden, for target practice and that “he believed political assassinations should be brought back”, prosecutors wrote. Numerous law enforcement officers and bomb technicians searched the property on 17 December. The agents located the rifle and the explosive devices, some of which had been hand-labeled as “lethal” and some of which were loaded into a wearable vest, court documents state. Technicians detonated most of the devices on site because they were deemed unsafe to transport, though several were kept for analysis.
Spafford is a determined wannabe domestic terrorist. He even continued to manufacture explosives after accidentally blowing off three fingers on his right hand.
Donald Trump has nominated the notoriously unqualified Kash Patel to head the FBI. More worryingly, Patel pals around with the far right and has made threatening remarks against journalists and political opponents. Among Trump's pack of loathsome nominees, Patel stands out as the worst. He would likely ignore domestic terrorists.
#domestic terrorism#anti-government extremists#maga#the far right#virginia#brad spafford#homemade explosive devices#pipe bombs#fbi#kash patel#donald trump
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if they can afford teslas and 55k wedding venues, they can afford to pay their employees. otherwise, they wouldn't be buying those things. unless they're giving themselves luxuries before they pay their employees, which would also make them bad.
people usually save up for or finance large purchases. they don't just... drop a wad on these types of things. wedding venue prices fluctuate depending on time of year/day of week/guest list size/time spent at the venue/a number of other factors, but even if ryan or shane DID spend $55,000 USD on their venue... 1: their spouses also work, and 2: that's not unheard of. people finance their weddings all the time, and that's a pretty normal number to spend on a venue. it shouldn't be, but it is.
i also don't know if you've checked the price of new cars lately, but what tesla is charging isn't... out of the ordinary. they're priced like normal fucking cars dude. you guys are so hung up about the prices of this shit when teslas cost just as much as every other new car. hell, $30,000 usd is pretty normal for a used car in this market.
but no matter what you're still missing the fucking point. this is not the type of class warfare we need to be doing. a tesla is not a luxurious purchase. getting married is not a luxurious purchase. would you like to know what is? your fifth private plane. your third home. a second apartment building you lease for twice the average rent of the area.
this is the type of class warfare eat the rich bullshit corporations and billionaires WANT you to be doing. this is infighting. this is cutting off your nose to spite your face. this is distraction. collectivism is destroyed when we are too busy arguing with each other to take out the ACTUAL problems. ryan and shane and steven are not the problems. they experienced significant oversight and immediately course corrected, so y'all need stop acting like fucking children and move on. go read some actual theory instead of getting all of your information from hasan piker and the amazing atheist. it'll do you some good.
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I get both sides, but I feel a little confused they couldn't find four people in their +25 employees
Data analyst (Are you seriously telling me you couldn't personally email or even just HIRE matpat's team who do data analytics as part of Theorist Media to help??? The man would be overjoyed to help???)
Editor (Put the first $6 towards a can of coffee grounds, dude)
PR Team (Even, like, a single person, please, for the love of god)
Business Major (Or literally anyone that has taken a home ec/budgeting/personal finance class)
First, the Dish Granted series was started when gold leaf burgers were novel, now it's seen as tone deaf (for obvious reasons) it should have shifted to something like interviews with people who make that kind of food or local businesses (like parmesan cheese shops in Parma, Italy) or the history of food (like talking about the history of modern Native American slavery on Californian wine vinyards). Not to mention the untapped potential of Food Fraud topics. Either shift it, or scrap it. Any data analyst or chronically online person could tell you that.
Second, why did you keep "anyone can afford $6 a month" in? Are the editors asleep at the wheel? Are they overworked? What is going on? You know damn well to not make generalizations about what people can afford. That's NEVER a good idea, especially when you KNOW (because YT gives you analytics) that most of your viewers are young (16/18-30/35 range, I'd guess) who probably, either 1, are still in school and either arent paid well/dont have jobs OR 2, arent paid well and tired of people's shit, like people who own businesses talking about "tough financial decisions." To them, Watcher isn't going to look different from the other people talking like that, because this was so sudden, with no input from fans, and in the video you hear shit like "anyone can afford [X]." To be frank, it wouldn't really matter what the amount is, because that generalization goes against the message they have stood by for years. THAT is a slap in the face.
Third, what are yall doing with the budgeting? Every artist has a right to make art that they are proud of. Every artist deserves to have their work seen if they so choose. Every artist deserves to make a living. HOWEVER, there are MANY options online when it comes to making money, especially on YT. You could get into marketing, data analysis, expanding your demographic, looking at what people are interested in right now VS what will stand the test of time (not gold leaf burgers), etc.
You have to either have these skills, develop these skills, or hire someone to do it for you. It's understandable that you would want a team behind the production, but I find +25 employees to be WAY too many people, especially in LA. Bailey Sarian has a Dark History section on her YT (and Spotify podcast) where she has hired historians to help make sure her episodes are as accurate as possible. You've caught heat before from Puppet History's missing & incorrect info, you should do the same. She has about three (3) "intermissions" per episode for ad breaks. I never see anyone complain. People WOULD listen to yall talk for that long (+1 hour videos), tbh, though that's not necessary.
Why are yall out here with Teslas, expensive food, new gear, scripts (where there weren't scripts before, PH is different, that makes sense), and "better than TV" level sets??? I need to put your accountant in this week's church prayer list what the actual hell??? Ya'll, this video is literally the meme:
Guys help me budget:
LA Rent: 2K per month
Videos: 100K per vid
+25 Employees: God only knows
New stuff for videos: Don't get me started
Like, are you serious?
You have a right to do whatever you want with your art. You have a right to charge whatever you'd like for that art. You have a right to make a living from your art and you have a right to ask your fans for money.
Your fans have a right to be angry when they've been supporting yall for, what, almost 10 years? They have a right to choose when and where to spend their money even when you've made an impact. They have a right to feel betrayed, especially when there are better options (like Nebula or consulting with Theorist Media).
Fans DO NOT have a right to be racist to any members of Watcher, now that they have made a decision they do not agree with.
I personally, think this is a really silly decision and could have been solved (haha solved) with a simple YT poll, but apparently we had to get... this. I respect their decision, I just don't think it was a smart one. I wish them the best, and I hope they find a better solution. Any further comment from me will depend on what steps they take next.
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