#offline part time job

[monicagomez321]

PART TIME JOB IN US

FOR INTERNATIONAL STUDENT

JOB LINK

[imabillyami]

Who are the moots you'd love to meet irl?? 😆

I‘m gonna lead with a bit of an explanation of how things worked for me in the past, just to put it into context a bit:

I’ve formed some really great connections via tumblr over the past 15 years (oh my god I can’t believe I’ve been here for about 15 years 😭) in many different fandoms and I’ve met up with a lot of current or former mutuals in that time, some of whom are now my closest friends irl.

I know that’s not for everyone, but for me it’s always been easier to form connections online first before taking the plunge into real life meetings and friendships. I’m not great at connecting with or getting to know people I meet in my day to day life, so doing it online has always been my preferred way and feels safe in a way. I’m not very good at talking to total strangers or at first impressions, so knowing someone from talking online already gives me that extra level of security and courage.

Some close relationships have never progressed past the online stage cause either I wasn’t comfortable or the other person wasn’t and I respect that and so did the other people involved.

Whenever I’ve met up with someone it’s never been about ‘oh this is a friendship dealbreaker to me’, but always been a ‘this feels organic and feels like the natural progression and logical next step in our friendship’. And sometimes it was just a ‘you’re gonna be there? oh cool, me too. let me know if you wanna meet!’. That being said I also have online friendships that have lasted for almost 10 years and are still going strong that never involved anything but texting.

But yeah. In my experience it’s never been awkward and I’ve never had a weird silence with anyone I’ve met up with. Simply because it was based on long term conversations and/or good vibes we’ve shared before. I’d also like to think that once you really get to know me like that, I’m just very easy and comfortable to be around.

So yeah. I’ve traveled with (former) moots, I’ve visited people (after having met up at conventions and concerts and in other settings previously -> remember: always meet in a public setting with plenty of people around first, just to be sure and for your own safety), I’ve had people visit my home, I’ve spent birthdays and Christmases and vacations with them. It’s how I have friends all over the world these days anywhere I go basically.

My longest lasting friendship that started on tumblr as an online friendship and survived offline to this day/ has been going strong for 10+ years now. We don’t live in the same country, but I’ve visited her, she’s visited me, we vacationed together and I met her husband, kid and all her extended family.

I met my best friend through tumblr as well, working on a fan project/managing a fan account together for a couple of years. Again, not living in the same country, but we meet up whenever we can, we traveled and had plenty of incredible experiences together over the years and other than that we video-chat and text a lot.

I even met my local bestie (though she recently moved away from here) via fandom/tumblr. We talked online a bunch, met up at a couple of conventions and she ended up helping me find an apartment and a job and opening her home to me for a while where I live now. I’m seeing her for Christmas.

And that’s just three of the amazing connections I formed here.

So this being said, I know the kind of amazing relationships that can come from tumblr and sharing fandom experiences and the same interests. But I also know that different people have different boundaries, so I’d never wanna pressure someone into meeting me or would react badly if they said they didn’t want to. I’m very much an introvert, some would even say a hermit these days, but I become a situational extrovert when I’m around the right people.

Just putting that out there, so the people I’m about to mention don’t feel awkward about it or feel any need to ‘let me down slowly’ or something like that.

I’m European-based and lots of the people I’d love to meet are on different continents, so that’s always a but difficult.

I recently met up with someone from the Wrestling fandom at Bash in Berlin and we had the best time, but that was a bit easier, cause they are European as well.

And I met up with a moot/friend from Brazil once when we were both in Paris at the same time. But that’s currently the only way for me to see people from other continents, cause while I traveled and explored a lot in my early 20s and had a job that supported that lifestyle, that’s not the case anymore. So yeah. Meeting people is more of a theoretical thing at the moment.

Anyyyyway. Long ramble you didn’t ask for. But I like putting things into context, so there are no misunderstandings of any kind.

That being said I have a bunch of people/moots who are really dear to me and who I’d love to meet one day.

@taydaq for sure, cause she’s one of my favorite people and an absolute sweetheart. Same goes for @shanie - we connected and it’s been so lovely for a long time now. @mahi-wayy for sure, cause we just click and I know we’ll get along like a house on fire.

And for some of the more recent connections that I feel have potential of growing closer and getting to that point I’d probably add @afterdarkprincess and @harmshake to that list.

There’s definitely a couple more people I can think of, but it all depends on what time and conversations will bring to the table really. And it depends even more on what people are comfortable with. Cause the last thing I’d ever wanna do is overstep or disrespect someone’s boundaries.

I apologize for how incredibly long this is. But I feel like by now y’all know that that’s what you’ve signed up for with me 🫶

Anyway, thanks for the great question anon! I wasn’t expecting someone to be interested ngl.

Have a nice morning, day or night wherever you are in the world 🫂

[mcmansionhell]

the motel room, or: on datedness

I.

Often I find myself nostalgic for things that haven't disappeared yet. This feeling is enhanced by the strange conviction that once I stop looking at these things, I will never see them again, that I am living in the last moment of looking. This is sense is strongest for me in the interiors of buildings perhaps because, like items of clothing, they are of a fashionable nature, in other words, more impermanent than they probably should be.

As I get older, to stumble on something truly dated, once a drag, is now a gift. After over a decade of real estate aggregation and the havoc it's wreaked on how we as a society perceive and decorate houses, if you're going to Zillow to search for the dated (which used to be like shooting fish in a barrel), you'll be searching aimlessly, for hours, to increasingly no avail, even with all the filters engaged. (The only way to get around this is locational knowledge of datedness gleaned from the real world.) If you try to find images of the dated elsewhere on the internet, you will find that the search is not intuitive. In this day and age, you cannot simply Google "80s hotel room" anymore, what with the disintegration of the search engine ecosystem and the AI generated nonsense and the algorithmic preference for something popular (the same specific images collected over and over again on social media), recent, and usually a derivative of the original search query (in this case, finding material along the lines of r/nostalgia or the Backrooms.)

To find what one is looking for online, one must game the search engine with filters that only show content predating 2021, or, even better, use existing resources (or those previously discovered) both online and in print. In the physical world of interiors, to find what one is looking for one must also now lurk around obscure places, and often outside the realm of the domestic which is so beholden to and cursed by the churn of fashion and the logic of speculation. Our open world is rapidly closing, while, paradoxically, remaining ostensibly open. It's true, I can open Zillow. I can still search. In the curated, aggregated realm, it is becoming harder and harder to find, and ultimately, to look.

But what if, despite all these changes, datedness was never really searchable? This is a strange symmetry, one could say an obscurity, between interiors and online. It is perhaps unintentional, and it lurks in the places where searching doesn't work, one because no one is searching there, or two, because an aesthetic, for all our cataloguing, curation, aggregation, hoarding, is not inherently indexable and even if it was, there are vasts swaths of the internet and the world that are not categorized via certain - or any - parameters. The internet curator's job is to find them and aggregate them, but it becomes harder and harder to do. They can only be stumbled upon or known in an outside, offline, historical or situational way. If to index, to aggregate, is, or at least was for the last 30 years, to profit (whether monetarily or in likes), then to be dated, in many respects, is the aesthetic manifestation of barely breaking even. Of not starting, preserving, or reinventing but just doing a job.

We see this online as well. While the old-web Geocities look and later Blingee MySpace-era swag have become aestheticized and fetishized, a kind of naive art for a naive time, a great many old websites have not received the same treatment. These are no less naive but they are harder to repackage or commodify because they are simple and boring. They are not "core" enough.

As with interiors, web datedness can be found in part or as a whole. For example, sites like Imgur or Reddit are not in and of themselves dated but they are full of remnants, of 15-year old posts and their "you, sir, have won the internet" vernacular that certainly are. Other websites are dated because they were made a long time ago by and for a clientele that doesn't have a need or the skill to update (we see this often with Web 2.0 e-commerce sites that figured out how to do a basic mobile page and reckoned it was enough). The next language of datedness, like the all-white landlord-special interior, is the default, clean Squarespace restaurant page, a landing space that's the digital equivalent of a flyer, rarely gleaned unless someone needs a menu, has a food allergy or if information about the place is not available immediately from Google Maps. I say this only to maintain that there is a continuity in practices between the on- and off-line world beyond what we would immediately assume, and that we cannot blame everything on algorithms.

But now you may ask, what is, exactly, datedness? Having spent two days in a distinctly dated hotel room, I've decided to sit in utter boredom with the numinous past and try and pin it down.

II.

I am in an obscure place. I am in Saint-Georges, Quebec, Canada, on assignment. I am staying at a specific motel, the Voyageur. By my estimation the hotel was originally built in the late seventies and I'd be shocked if it was older than 1989. The hotel exterior was remodeled sometime in the 2000s with EIFS cladding and beige paint. Above is a picture of my room, which, forgive me, is in the process of being inhabited. American (and to a lesser extent Canadian) hotel rooms are some of the most churned through, renovated spaces in the world, and it's pretty rare, unless you're staying in either very small towns or are forced by economic necessity to stay at real holes in the wall, to find ones from this era. The last real hitter for me was a 90s Day's Inn in the meme-famous Breezewood, PA during the pandemic.

At first my reaction to seeing the room was cautionary. It was the last room in town, and certainly compared to other options, probably not the world's first choice. However, after staying in real, genuine European shitholes covering professional cycling I've become a class-A connoisseur of bad rooms. This one was definitively three stars. A mutter of "okay time to do a quick look through." But upon further inspection (post-bedbug paranoia) I came to the realization that maybe the always-new brainrot I'd been so critical of had seeped a teeny bit into my own subconscious and here I was snubbing my nose at a blessing in disguise. The room is not a bad room, nor is it unclean. It's just old. It's dated. We are sentimental about interiors like this now because they are disappearing, but they are for my parents what 2005 beige-core is for me and what 2010s greige will become for the generation after. When I'm writing about datedness, I'm writing in general using a previous era's examples because datedness, by its very nature, is a transitional status. Its end state is the mixed emotion of seeing things for what they are yet still appreciating them, expressed here.

Datedness is the period between vintage and contemporary. It is the sentiment between quotidian and subpar. It is uncurated and preserved only by way of inertia, not initiative. It gives us a specific feeling we don't necessarily like, one that is deliberately evoked in the media subcultures surrounding so-called "liminal" spaces: the fuguelike feeling of being spatially trapped in a time while our real time is passing. Datedness in the real world is not a curated experience, it is only what was. It is different from nostalgia because it is not deliberately remembered, yearned for or attached to sweetness. Instead, it is somehow annoying. It is like stumbling into the world of adults as a child, but now you're the adult and the child in you is disappointed. (The real child-you forgot a dull hotel room the moment something more interesting came along.) An image of my father puts his car keys on the table, looks around and says, "It'll do." We have an intolerance for datedness because it is the realization of what sufficed. Sufficiency in many ways implies lack.

However, for all its datedness, many, if not all, of the things in this room will never be seen again if the room is renovated. They will become unpurchaseable and extinct. Things like the bizarrely-patterned linoleum tile in the shower, the hose connecting to the specific faucet of the once-luxurious (or at least middling) jacuzzi tub whose jets haven't been exercised since the fall of the Berlin Wall. The wide berth of the tank on the toilet. There is nothing, really, worth saving about these things. Even the most sentimental among us wouldn't dare argue that the items and finishes in this room are particularly important from a design or historical standpoint. Not everything old has a patina. They're too cheaply made to salvage. Plastic tile. Bowed plywood. The image-artifacts of these rooms, gussied up for Booking dot com, will also, inevitably disappear, relegated to the dustheap of web caches and comments that say "it was ok kinda expensive but close to twon (sic)." You wouldn't be able to find them anyway unless you were looking for a room.

One does, of course, recognize a little bit of design in what's here. Signifiers of an era. The wood-veneer of the late 70s giving way to the pastel overtones of the 80s. Perhaps even a slow 90s. The all-in-one vanity floating above the floor, a modernist basement bathroom hallmark. White walls as a sign of cleanliness. Gestures, in the curved lines of the nightstands, towards postmodernity. Metallic lamp bases with wide-brimmed shades, a whisper of glamor. A kind of scalloped aura to the club chairs. The color teal mediated through hundreds if not thousands of shoes. Yellowing plastic, including the strips of "molding" that visually tie floor to wall. These are remnants (or are they intuitions?) of so many movements and micromovements, none of them definite enough to point to the influence of a single designer, hell, even of a single decade, just strands of past-ness accumulated into one thread, which is cheapness. Continuity exists in the materials only because everything was purchased as a set from a wholesale catalog.

In some way a hotel is supposed to be placeless. Anonymous. Everything tries to be that way now, even houses. Perhaps because we don't like the way we spy on ourselves and lease our images out to the world so we crave the specificity of hotel anonymity, of someplace we move through on our way to bigger, better or at least different things. The hotel was designed to be frictionless but because it is in a little town, it sees little use and because it sees little use, there are elements that can last far longer than they were intended and which inadvertently cause friction. (The janky door unlocks with a key. The shower hose keeps coming out of the faucet. It's deeply annoying.)

Lack of wear and lack of funds only keep them that way. Not even the paper goods of the eighties have been exhausted yet. Datedness is not a choice but an inevitability. Because it is not a choice, it is not advertised except in a utilitarian sense. It is kept subtle on the hotel websites, out of shame. Because it does not subscribe to an advertiser's economy of the now, of the curated type rather than the "here is my service" type, it disappears into the folds of the earth and cannot be searched for in the way "design" can. It can only be discovered by accident.

When I look at all of these objects and things, I do so knowing I will never see them again, at least not all here together like this, as a cohesive whole assembled for a specific purpose. I don't think I'll ever have reason to come back to this town or this place, which has given me an unexpected experience of being peevish in my father's time. Whenever I end up in a place like this, where all is as it was, I get the sense that it will take a very long time for others to experience this sensation again with the things my generation has made. The machinations of fashion work rapaciously to make sure that nothing is ever old, not people, not rooms, not items, not furniture, not fabrics, not even design, that old matron who loves to wax poetic about futurity and timelessness. The plastic-veneered particleboard used here is now the bedrock of countless landfills. Eventually it will become the chemical-laced soil upon which we build our condos. It is possible that we are standing now at the very last frontier of our prior datedness. The next one has not yet elided. It's a special place. Spend a night. Take pictures.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[fumiliar]

imagine influencer!y/n with chronically offline!kento

ever since kento came out of his emo phase, he doesn't visit social media often. so when you had gained interest in him after seeing him in your workplace, you tried stalking him. but all you could see was pictures of his high school years, his face barely in it. social media was a no go, so you had to talk to him to figure him out. and truly, that was the best part.

you were always questioning whether he liked something or not. he was a complete blank slate, and you were too. even though you were quite active on social media, gaining a few thousand followers by that time, he never bothered to check it, it just wasn't his style.

when you eventually started dating and soft launching him, everyone was asking who this mystery man was. but his identity was always kept a secret as he wasn't someone who often used social media, you thought it'd be uncomfortable. eventually when you hit the 1 year mark, he finally brought up the question.

"y/n, i don't mean to offend you in any way shape or form. this is more towards curiosity..." his steps slowing down, his hesitation affecting not only his speech but his movement.

"continue?" you looked through the photos kento had taken of you, scrolling and picking out the best ones. you had gone to a beautiful restaurant, and since you got all cleaned up, you had to ask kento to take a picture of you.

"why do you take photos and videos so much? i mean, i do understand it's a hobby for almost everyone, but i do think you spend a tad bit too much time on something that isn't a job," he was curious, trying his best to formulate words that would least offend you.

"what do you mean? it is my job! i'm an part time influencer," you immediately showed him your social media accounts leaving kento in awe.

"oh...i did not...know," he was shocked, to say the least. his mouth was wide open as he scrolled and looked at all your social media accounts. he didn't use social media often, but it wasn't like he was clueless of how it worked! you were popular, most of your social media accounts had a following over 500k, instagram being the least and youtube being the highest.

"i did not know i was dating someone popular...." kento still couldn't wrap his head around this fact.

"did you not know? at all?" you asked.

"no...0%," kento answered, still unable to look away from your phone screen. the fact that he didn't find out over this past year was even more shocking. you've asked him for help in recording so many videos, the fact he didn't even suspect it was mind boggling to you. "is this where you've been posting the pics of us?"

"yeah, i mean none of them have your face, i can take it down if you're uncomfortable..."

"no, i like it."

you never hard launched kento, it was like a public secret. everyone knew you were taken by this mystery blonde man, but they never knew who. it was nice to see the comments theorise on which blonde influencer was your man, but they were severely mistaken. your man doesn't even use social media! his instagram still having no bio and just one post of him and haibara.

not hard launching did not mean you had no announcements. when kento proposed to you a year later, your fans got the news too, as they saw a new flashy ring on your ring finger in your newest day in a life vlog. since his presence, your fans have made a name for him, sir purin, taken from his blonde hair, the only feature you could attribute him to, matching with the sanrio character pompompurin.

when you finally got married, that was when you had finally hard launched kento. a simple picture of you and kento on your wedding reception, dancing as if you were the only people in the whole world. you had tagged kento's instagram account, though his @ couldn't be seen, your fans could find his account easily. after all, he changed his user to @misterpurin so you could tag him.

this account was barely used, only there to repost stories he's tagged in and mainly to post you once in a while. every birthday and anniversary he would always upload a picture of you, with an essay along with it. his account started getting filled with pictures of you, it was like a fan account of you! with the exception of a few pictures of you together and of course, his high school friend haibara.

in that account, it had stored memories of you in his eyes. it was sweet, anyone could tell that every single picture captured and posted was done with utmost love and care. he posted for him, not for your fans, or for his. this slowly lead to kento making a camera account, only followed by you. and even there, almost every single picture had a part of you in it, whether it was your head peaking in the side of a beautiful sunset, or your hair flowing in the wind obstructing the eye-catching view, or just a plain picture of you. every single picture had a speck of you, and if not, his captions would.

this account did end up being found, which led to kento privating the camera account, but it was too late as a few thousand of your followers had already followed it. kento never posted often, but when he did, your presence would always be prevalent no matter what.

p.s this was supposed to be a short drabble, like 3 paragraphs max...but i got carried away. it was only supposed to be kento's insta becoming your fan account.

[underestimated-heroine]

The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.

This is the shrimp guy story:

From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:

>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.

He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."

And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.

Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.

[feminist-space]

Article by Fortesa Latifi:

"Being the child of an influencer, Vanessa tells me, was the equivalent of having a full-time job—and then some. She remembers late nights in which the family recorded and rerecorded videos until her mother considered them perfect and days when creating content for the blog stretched into her homeschooling time. If she expressed her unease, she was told the family needed her. “It was like after this next campaign, maybe we could have more time to relax. And then it would never happen,” she says. She was around 10 years old when she realized her life was different from that of other children. When she went to other kids’ houses, she was surprised by how they lived. “I felt strange that they didn’t have to work on social media or blog posts, or constantly pose for pictures or videos,” she says. “I realized they didn’t have to worry about their family's financial situation or contribute to it.”

Vanessa, who requested anonymity to speak freely about her family dynamics, says she helped create content for huge companies like Huggies and Hasbro when her mom landed endorsement deals. When she reached puberty and began menstruating, her mother had her do sponsored posts for sanitary pads. “It was so mortifying,” she says. “I just felt like I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.”

Being part of an influencer family changed everything about her life, Vanessa says. “Sometimes I didn’t know where the separation was between what was real and what was curated for social media.” And her mother’s online presence indelibly warped their relationship. “Being an influencer kid turned my relationship with my mom into more of an employer-employee relationship than a parent-child one,” she says. “Once you cross the line from being family to being coworkers, you can’t really go back.”

...

Khanbalinov has had zero new offers since he took his kids offline. “When we were showing our kids, brands were rolling in left and right—clothing companies, apps, paper towel companies, food brands. They all wanted us to work with them,” he says. “Once we stopped, we reached out to the brands we had lined up and 99 percent of them dropped out because they wanted kids to showcase their products. And I fought back, like, you guys are a paper towel company—why do you need a kid selling your stuff?”

The law has woefully lagged behind the culture here, but there’s signs that policymakers might finally be catching up. In 2023, in addition to Illinois, three other states—New York, Washington State, and New Jersey—proposed bills to protect influencer kids. Contrast that with the flurry of legislative activity in just the first two months of 2024. Seven more states—Maryland, Georgia, Ohio, Missouri, California, Arizona, Minnesota—have introduced similar legislation. Some of the bills are going one step further to protect the privacy of the kids featured in this content. In some states, proposed legislation would include a clause that borrows from a European legal doctrine known as the “right to be forgotten”—it would allow someone who was featured in content when they were a child to request that platforms permanently delete those posts. None of the current legislation introduced, however, would outright bar the practice of featuring minors in monetized content.

...

The movement on this issue was glacial for years, but it finally feels like the ice has thawed. Much of that progress is thanks to activists like Cam Barrett (she/they), a 25-year-old creator (@softscorpio) who uses TikTok to talk about her experience of being overshared in their childhood and adolescence. Barrett doesn’t go by her legal name anymore because of the online history it’s tied to. “I love my legal name,” Barrett tells me. “I just don’t love the digital footprint attached to it.” Last year, Barrett testified in front of the Washington State legislature as a proponent of a bill to protect influencer kids. This year, they testified again—this time, in front of the Maryland legislature.

“As a former content kid myself, I know what it’s like to grow up with a digital footprint I never asked for,” Barrett told the Maryland House of Delegates Economic Matters Committee in February. “As my mom posted to the world my first-ever menstrual cycle, as she posted to the world the intimate details about me being adopted, her platform grew and I had no say in what was posted.” And yet, Cam says her activism has been healing.

For Cam and other influencer children, getting a paycheck won’t give them back what they lost—a normal childhood unobstructed by the cameras pushed into their faces. But it could be the beginning of some version of restitution. “My friends say I’m fighting for little Cam,” she tells me. “It feels very healing because I didn’t have anyone to fight for me as a kid.”"

Read the full article here: https://www.cosmopolitan.com/lifestyle/a60125272/sharenting-parenting-influencer-cost-children/

[puppetwoman17]

No because I actually wanna talk more about Billy getting a call/email about his dad’s remains years later, because the concept is just so life-altering.

Like, imagine that you’re Billy, who had to deal with his father never coming home and his sister not remembering much from before. After years of dealing with all the hurt and trauma, he’s finally at a place he likes. He’s older, he has his sister back, and they’re extremely close. He has friends in and out of the hero community. He’s trusted within that community. He has a good job. He makes enough so he’s not starving. And while the wounds from his parents’ brutal deaths are still there, they aren’t as bad. They’re healing slowly, but healing nonetheless.

And then everything comes crashing down. And whatever point he gets the email or phone call does not matter. That’s honestly one of the worst parts of this. He could be waking up to a new day. Going to bed.ar the watchtower. Doing his job. Going on a date. Going out with the JL. He could be doing ANYTHING and it wouldn’t matter.

And it’s more likely for him to get an email about it. Idk why I think this, but I do. So you can probably imagine how it feels for him to get a random email from a random @ that says “C.C. Batson’s Remains Found”. Like, what the fuck do you mean? What do you MEAN?

Ebenezer got the email. He is absolutely fuming and refuses to have anything to do with it, so it’s left to Billy, because of course it is.

What does he look like to the League? To his friends? One moment, he’s the same as he’s ever been, talking and laughing and finally acting like the child he is at heart, and then his phone lights up and he reads something on it—

He goes completely pale. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t react when someone touches him or says anything. He just stutters out that he needs to go and asks for a sick day, or a sick week, or a sick whatever, because he doesn’t care. He just makes a run for it before anyone can ask.

They try to ask around, but Mary and Junior are offline soon after him. Dudley suspends Captain Marvel Inc.. Whiz Radio announces that the Whiz Kid segment will be doing reruns for the next two months. Diana is getting missed calls from all of her Fawcett war buddies.

Meanwhile, Billy spends agonizing days, weeks, waiting for his father’s remains to finally come home. There are warnings. From Adam. From Dudley. Hell, from the email sender. All about how gruesome C.C. looks. And billy is angry because that’s his father and he shouldn’t be so disgusted about finally seeing him again.

And then he finally does get to see him. He gets to see his dad after so many years. His ACTUAL, real dad, and not just Captain Marvel on the tv screen—

And he can’t look. He can’t. He just looks too…

Billy throws up all over the good-looking clothes he bought, because he thought the quality would make up for that entire situation. But of course it doesn’t.

Dad’s home, and Billy, for the first time, wishes he wasn’t. When he’s finally in the ground, next to his wife, next to their daughter’s empty coffin, all he can do is cry in shame.

[whereserpentswalk]

You know a girl whose going to be uploaded into a computer soon. It's pretty common nowadays, like not so common most people know someone whose had it happen to them, but common enough so that everyone knows about it.

She says she has to do it for her job. Like, it's not required, but every aspect of her job is 100% online so it's just more convenient for her employers that way, making her a lot more enjoyable. Plus not having things like sleep or food to worry about would cut costs a lot. And she might eventually be able to get a new body once she gets promoted a few times.

You feel really sad for her. You know a lot of people who've had to become cyborgs or even full robots for both work and personal reasons. But being fully uploaded into a computer with no way of accessing the offline world is way to drastic a move for most people to go to, even out of desperation. But while she's still here, you try to get to know her, since you won't have her for long.

She seems really nice. Graduated from a top business school, but she seems to actually be pretty class conscious. Mabye she though gaining power in the system would help her help the world, she wanted to work for an eco friendly company but that didn't pan out well.

She's trying to spend her last weeks with a body as best she can. Sometimes that just means hanging out around the city, you try to take her around to places she might enjoy. You grew up here and she didn't so of course you know a lot of really cool places to see. You took her to neighborhoods you love walking around, to little corners you can only see in person, and little shops that can't be replaced by websites. You take her to a meusum, and spend so much time looking at things that hit diffrent when you see them up close, massive radiant paintings, and glistening gems, and alien fossils, all of them soon to be gone to her, when everything is equally far away.

You spend time doing things with her body that she won't be able to soon. She tells you not to feel sad, that she chose this, though she seems a bit sad herself. She savors the sensation of sleep while she still has it. She trys all kinds of food that she won't ever taste soon, she's laughs a bit that there's no use in dieting now. She asks you to cuddle, and you cuddle her, because you know she needs that human touch while she can have it. She asks to have sex, you had to get neutered for your last job so it doesn't normally interest you anymore, but you'll do it for her. She doesn't want to leave this body having never known how it feels and you understand. When she falls asleep in your arms you call her pretty, and hearing that about her face makes her cry.

Eventually it's time for her to go. You give her one last hug, hoping she can carry it as the last thing she feels. You take the train with her to the uploading station. She seems to have regrets, seems to not want to go through with this, but she's committed to it now. You tell her she can still back out, and find another way to live, that it's not to late as long as she's in her body. She tells you to stay strong for her when she's gone.

When she uploads herself she leaves the first pick of parts from her body to you. It was a healthy one, really nice for her age. You take her reproductive organs so you can finally be unnutered again, and take her eyes to cure nearsightedness, and a few muscles to undo chronic pain. It hurts to know you're taking her apart like that, but somebody was going to, and it's not her anymore. At least you'll carry a bit of her now.

Now that she's uploaded you talk to her a lot through social media. She seems like she misses a lot of the world. You try and show her what you can through photos, and talk to her as much as possible. She misses hugs more then anything, and tells you how boring life is without sleep. You wish you could have done more. She wishes she had listened.

[rqbossman]

I found out about tma from my friend because he asked me to make an edit of michael distortion and got into it a few months later. I LOVE TMA. I mostly listened to the whole thing three times when I was mostly offline because I have the 200 episodes downloaded on YouTube and now I'm finding out that there's some stuff I missed, there's bloopers, q&a and I was in the wiki because i wanted to see how many times the admiral was mentioned and theres one what the ghost episode? IM GOING INSANE. I love tma. I think it's rotting my brain... it's everywhere, it's in my veins. I need to know everything but when I try to search these things up on YouTube it only shows me rusty quill gaming which I will be watching later but where do I find the other stuff where is the best place to listen to tma and find every extra lore even if it's just the tiniest squeeze of lore? I need to know y'all really did an amazing job with tma, I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of listening to it. I need to relisten to it before hell— I mean... School starts again. Lord save us for another year of merciless torture. Also I was trying to type this fast and forgot to say hi. hi Mr Alex, I hope you're having an amazing day/night when you see this. I promise to listen to all the podcasts rusty quill has after I learn every little squeeze of tma lore. Where is the best place to listen to and learn every little squeeze of information of all of rusty quill podcasts? (I absolutely did not install Tumblr just to ask this what do you mean 😓😓😓)

Lovely to hear from you and thankyou for the kind words. To list good locations for TMA Lore: 1) The podcast feed is obviously first port of call and includes some bonus materials between seasons 2) Our Patreon has an absolutely enormous amount of content in there now and I believe it should at this point be organised into collections so you can just look up TMA and it's all there for you (although that is behind a paywall) 2) Any video QNA's/events etc. not included in the main feed should be on our twitch channel. 3) Rustyquill.com has various links dotted around that have snippets too 4) The fan wiki is a very strong resource. Like any wiki there is the odd error here or there but for the most part its astonishingly accurate and detailed. 5) Special mention to whoever keeps our TV Tropes pages up to date. It was when I saw a proper entry for The Magnus Archives on that site that I actually started to call myself a "proper" writer.

[psychoticallytrans]

This post is specifically meant to help kids and emerging adults that were not taught what you might not want to share online.

The purpose of not sharing personal information is to make it more difficult to connect up information about you, and especially to make it difficult to connect the "you" online to the "you" offline. The reasons one may want to do this range from maintaining safe relationships outside of an abusive relationship, to making it harder to put together enough information to break into their bank account, to being actively concerned about doxxing and swatting.

For any of these reasons, if you're not completely sure you will be fine having that information on the internet indefinitely, it's best not to share it in the first place. The internet is full of turmoil, but we all know that some posts never die, and that others are archived.

Here's some information that is generally considered a bad idea to share publicly or privately online, with the exception of applying for jobs or working with online financial and legal systems, and some strong alternatives.

Your full legal name, or any particularly distinctive part of your legal name. My first name has less than six hundred people with it in the States. I use a nickname on this blog for a reason. Nicknames are a great alternative to legal names.

Your birthday, especially if you also share your exact age. That allows for people to look for you based on your exact birth date, which is a very powerful piece of information. Unlike your legal name, there's no way I know of to change it. Consider not sharing this at all. For age, "minor" or "adult" are all the information a reasonable person should need.

Your precise location. Big cities, like Tokyo, New York City, or London, have a high enough population to act as a bit of a smokescreen, but as a rule of thumb, stick to stating a local with at least a million people in it. I often just use my time zone, since it's the main thing people need to know online.

There's other information that is questionable to share openly online, particularly your personal phone number and email, but those are the three big pieces of information that it's generally not a good idea to share either publicly or privately. This is because they can be plugged into background checkers and other databases to try to find you offline. The more information you share, the more someone can narrow down who you are. If that is something you are concerned about, consider following these guidelines about what not to share.

I encourage people to add onto and spread around this post.

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 25 - Winter Solo

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: No is not pet play again ahhahah I just find that pic cute.

No one would ever think that Minjeong is anything more than a cute girl. She's always acting shy and kind with everyone, but the thing is that her true self only comes out when she's alone in her room. Well, alone is a way to say it, because she isn't alone at all. Not at least in a particular way.

Minjeong is in her room doing her job, her real job. Not the side job she has as a waitress in the coffee shop near her apartment. This is a more special job and one no one could even think she is doing. 

Minjeong is lying fully naked over the carpet in her room, with a dildo and vibrator both deep inside her pussy, and her body still shaking from her last orgasm. The second of the night. 

She's giving the back to the computer in her desk and the camera pointing directly to her private parts.  On the floor in front of her there is a handycam recording her face too.

“Thanks for giving me so much love.” With a big smile she blew a kiss to the camera recording her face. Her short blonde hair is messy and covers part of her face, but still enough of her pretty features can be seen.

“Give me a minute to rest.” Minjeong giggles looking at the camera with love. That's why her followers like her so much. Despiste doing naughty things on camera she always maintains her smile and her kinda cute attitude, giggling and blowing kisses to her audience at the other side of the screen.

Minjeong is a streamer, a good one, and that is making her gain followers. Her number of fans is rising like crazy at a velocity that soon could allow her to leave her regular job. But Minjeon needs that job because no one in her offline life knows what she does when she’s alone at home and the cameras are one. For the rest of the world she’s a cute shy girl that works as a waitress to pay her rent and other expenses related to college.  But the truth is that at the end of the day she’s living her best life out of this online job, and the money for the coffee shop is just extra money. She uses that job as an alibi because the only ones that know her true self are her fans.

“That one was good. Thank you guys.” Minjeong finally stood again after resting for a while and cleaning her own slick from her thighs and cunt. Still naked she sat on her gamer chair putting her feet over it and hugging her knees, now her legs are the only thing that prevent the camera from capturing her in her birthday suit. “What do we do next, huh?” She asks to the camera moving her head to one side and making a cute face. Even when she had an intense orgasm just minutes ago still looks cute and kinda innocent in a way that is arousing. 

“Ok, thank you.” She said shaking a bit because someone made a donation and the vibrator that still is inside her pussy is activated by the sound of tips. In that way her audience can control the pleasure she’s receiving even when they are miles apart. “Right or left?” The question is because the tip was for Minjeong to lick a foot, and as her audience wanted and paid for, she took her left foot and started licking and sucking her toes. With slow movements of her tongue she’s licking her sole, making the most naughty face she can in the process. But after the time they pay for ends, Minjeon put her foot back on the chair 

“You guys love my feet so much.” As a free gift she rise her feet and put the soles close to the camera, almost instantly the toy in her pussy start vibrating again with the sound of the tips . Her audience certainly love Minjeong’s cute feet, but also the fact that on the way she’s showing it, the camera also can record her glistened pussy. “Aaaah! You gonna make me fall from the chair.” She really has to let her feet and grab the sides of the chair to not fall off to the floor.

Even grabbing the chair Minjeong isn’t safe from the stimulating vibrations of the toy because one of her longest followers made the biggest donation of the night, almost making her pussy explode. But what really makes Minjeong’s heart run faster is what they requested with that huge donation. The money was a lot, with that she easily could pay two months of rent and buy some new clothes, but has to be a lot in order to request what they want. 

Despiste that Minjeong has been doing this streams for almost a year she still blushes and bite her lip with that request. Her follower whats her to ride her biggest dildo but not to fuck her pussy, they want to see Minjeong’s little asshole being stretched. “OOooohhh you naughty guys.” She giggle and bite her thumb. “I gonna need to prepare me first.”

 The lube bottle is always on her desk, that’s something that she learned time ago, so Minjeong just kneels on the chair pointing her ass to the camera, and placing the handycam where can record her face. Soon her fingers are massaging her asscrack and spreading the lube all across, preparing her for what is coming. With a little push her middle finger easily opens her anus and is inserted inside, soon a second finger follows its steps.

 Isn’t really hard for her to do that because Minjeon isn’t stranger to anal sex, but the size of the toy she’s about to fuck herself need her to be well prepared. Is far from the size of the plugs she regularly uses and always gives her some troubles to fit inside her little asshole. That’s why a third finger is inserted in her ass making her body tremble with jolts. 

Minjeong is moaning to the camera she has on her face. Her eyes are closed but that’s just proof of the pleasure she’s feeling. The other camera is recording her ass being stretched and how her pussy is practically dripping over her thighs because the toy never stop vibrating with the sound of countless tips she’s receiving, wich give Minjeong enough courage to fit with a lot of work a fourth finger inside her already stuffed asshole. Her fingers are small, yes, but that does not mean that having them inside her ass isn’t difficult, and that effort has her panting and moaning.

When she feels that her anus is pushed to the limit Minjeong takes out her fingers and the camera can capture how her anus remains open for a few seconds and then slowly closes. “Are you guys enjoying the show?” The answer came in the form of more tips that make her small frame shake. She could let it go and have another orgasm here because is already so stimulated, but she knows she have something to do.

Minjeon takes out of the drawer where she stores her toys her biggest dildo, a big black toy that simulates being a real dick and has a suction cup in one end. It must be around 12 inches long and 8 of girth, and feels heavy on Minjeong’s small hands. It’s almost comparable to the size of her forearm and the thoughts of having that inside her ass make her pussy throb. 

The dildo is placed on the floor, with the suction cup maintaining it on the spot, and Minjeong set the cameras to capture all the important details. One is pointed to the dildo and the other to where is supposed to be her face.  She doesn't want her audience to miss anything. 

“The thighs I do for you.” Minjeong says before trying to suck the dildo to leave it covered in saliva. An idea that is quickly abandoned because the measurement makes her gag almost immediately, but instead Minjeong decides to coat the toy in layers of lube that her small hands are spreading on the entire length. When she decides it is well covered it is finally time to put the dildo where it should be.

“This is for you.” And with that she spread her cheeks and squat over the dildo while. Even when her ass was already prepared Minjeong had troubles with the tip, so she had to roll her hips in circles and push down to make the toy finally penetrate her small asshole. Immediately her anus protests to this new intromission but has no other option that surround to the plastic toy. 

Minjeong's face is already contorted into a grimace of pleasure. It feels like her ass is about to split and it only have a few inches inside her, so she have to stop descending to touch her pussy. The finger massaging her folds helps her to relax and allow her sore ass to engulf more and more of the toy till the point that a respectable eight inches are inside her ass.

Now her knees are on the floor and her hands are grabbing her thighs. Is really difficult to have such a massive piece of plastic inside her, but also feels so good. Having her ass wide open while everyone is watching gives her a special arousal, because she enjoys the attention but is too shy in public to make something impressive or dress more provocative. But here in the safety of her room she can sit down with a huge dildo stretching her anus and still smile to the camera. 

The dildo is so huge compared to her that Minjeong can feel how the tip is tickling her gust, and that floods her pussy. Or maybe are the tips sounds that her audience keeps sending to show how much they love her and enjoy this show. But the truth is that It doesn't matter because Minjeong is enjoying this so much, all the sensations have her crawling to heaven.

Her anus being stretched and filled with the toy, her soaked pussy being stimulated for the vibrations, the attention she receives. Everything feels so pleasant and makes her want more, so Minjeong raises her ass, taking a few inches of the toy out of her anus and then descends again. She’s bouncing on the dildo, impaling herself everytime she goes down and moaning like crazy. 

She’s already shaking because the pleasure this is giving to her is tremendous. Is something that she doesn't do really often because of the size of the dildo, but for that special follower (And that amount of money) she can make their wish come true. And after all she has to give to her audience what they want, and what they want the most is to see her having pleasure.

Minjeon wish she could have a third camera so her followers could see how soaked her pussy is, or how she’s rubbing and spanking her pretty pink folds.  She wants to put some fingers inside too, but she  thinks that is too much, she could not manage being that filled. Her ass being filled is already engount to have her on the edge of madness. 

Her moans are powerful and in a high tone, but have to be like that because it is the only way to let her audience know how much she is enjoying this. How much she enjoys having her little anus being completely stretched by this huge piece of plastic. Because the pleasure on her face can even show how good she’s feeling right now. 

The ring of muscles that is her anus is tightly gripping the toy circumference, making her feel every single one of the veins and reliefs on the surface of the dildo. That is a plus on the pleasure that Minjeon can manage anymore, not when her fingers are coated in her slick and her fans are completely crazy making tips. And by the way her legs are sore she can’t last any longer doing these movements.

With a final slap over her wet cunt Minjeong surrenders herself to the absolute pleasure of her third orgasm of the night. One that makes her small body shake violently and needs her to put all her strength on not falling to one side. Her pussy is throbbing and releasing more juices while her anus is gripping so tight the dildo that it seems like it could cut it in two halfs. 

Both cameras capture her climax with details. One pointing to her stretched ass and lower back, allowing the audience to see her anus throbbing too. And the other is filming every contortion of pleasure that Minjeong face does. This for sure is going to be a clip that she can sell to make even more money out of this.

But before even thinking about that she has to calm down and she has to try to pull herself together because is an absolute mess. Her previous orgasms were good, but his last one was crazy. Every single muscle on her body is tyred and protesting, her breath is short and her heart is running like crazy. Minjeong is panting with closed eyes while she manages to recover enough strength to stand and take the dildo out of her sore asshole. 

With her legs shaking as if they were made out of jelly, Minjeong finally can take out the huge dildo. When the tip comes out make a pop! sounds leaving Minjeon’s anus wide open. An asshole that apparently cannot be called small anymore. 

Now free of the pressure of the plastic over her gust and rectum Minjeong finally falls to the side and lies on the floor with both legs open again. Her wrecked asshole is on camera, closing on slow motion as the last  witness of what she did. 

Reaching the handycam with a lot of work and some pain Minjeong points it to her face, showing her big smile and cute features once again. “Did you enjoyed it? Did you?” She blows a new kiss to her audience in a cute way and tries to hide her face because the camera makes her blush. Is incredible that a few minutes ago she was stretching her asshole with a huge dildo, and now she's acting shy and cute. But that is how Minjeong is, and that is how her audience loves her. 

[deskraven]

Chaos Terrans, Chaos Energy, Terratronus, Starscream

Read time: 5 minutes

TLDR: Starscream ordered the Chaos Terrans to stab each other with the Cyber Slayer to charge it; The Chaos Terrans cared about each other genuinely; I wish Starscream studied Mandroid corpse.

ID: A clip from Earthspark S2E09. After Hashtag and Mo discover the Witwicky underground tunnels form a humanoid shape, we see Aftermath and Spitfire attempting to enter the tunnels with the Cyber Slayer at the entrance where the cave water was first discovered in S1E07. Aftermath unleashes a massive chaos energy blast through the weapon, shaking the chamber the Maltos sisters are in but having no effect outside. Spitfire takes the weapon, taunting, "My turn already - and you have to it with STYLE!" She spins the weapon coolly, only to release a tiny streak of energy. Aftermath teases, "Some STYLE you got there, Spitfire… or should I call you, Nofire?" Spitfire retorts, "Ha-ha-ha, and I thought you were just funny looking." Possibly misreading her mockery as praising, Aftermath proudly declares, "Aftermath is the complete package," before launching into a random battle cry. "I don't think you -" Spitfire's confused look changes into resignation. "You know what? Never mind." She lifts up the weapon and points it at her brother, "Just hold still while I recharge this - what's it called again?" "CYBER SLAYER," Aftermath reminds her, leaning down. "Wicked cool name for a weapon if you ask - Aaargh!" His words are cut off as Spitfire taps him sharply on the head with the weapon. He stumbles back, clutching his head as his embershard dims, emitting garbled sounds. Spitfire tosses him a bottle of cave water. After a long gulp, his embershard lights up again. Wiping his mouth, he smiles, "That does NOT get any easier, but what a rush!" Seeing the weapon charged with Aftermath's own energy, Spitfire grins, "Yeh? The next time we will trade." This time, she manages to unleash a powerful blast into the cave walls, causing rocks to fall around the Malto sisters but still no external effect. Frustrated, she asks, "Any doors open up yet?" "Ha! That's what we are doing here, sister?" Aftermath shrugs. "I stopped listening after Starscream said - " Switching to a more high-pitched voice, he imitates, "Take the cyber slayer - urrhhh". "Well, apparently, this thing's supposed to get us inside the - " Spitfire says as she continues to stab the cave walls, unleashing loads of energy. "Where?" Aftermath asks. "Yeh, Starscream left that part out." Spitfires stops, contemplating. "But he did say it will help with his BIG PLAN for taking out the Maltos and the Autobots." She seems to be convinced by the reasoning, and returns to her job at hand with an even stronger blow. This time, the wall shatters and starts glowing in red - the color of the chaos energy. Cybertronian letters appears on the wall with Quintus' symbol, "IN TIMES OF NEED HELP SHALL RISE TO YOUR CALL". Marveled, both Chaos Terrans paused, though they likely can't read it, and Spitfire soon resumed her stabbing.

Thought 1: Wow this is quite messed up!

I'm probably just slow, but on first watch I assumed the Chaos Terrans were able to channel chaos energy through the Cyber Slayer naturally, and thought Spitfire hit Aftermath with the weapon as a part of their mutual bickering. I only just realized they were taking turns stabbing each other with the weapon to keep it charged, and they were ordered to do so by Starscream.

Wow this is pretty messed up! "Hey kids take this weapon and go open a door for me. If the weapon runs out of energy, just draw each other's blood to recharge it. Try not to kill each other in the process and good luck!"

This seems extremely dangerous. The Cyber Slayer is not fatal, but it is fatal if the victim doesn't have access to treatment. And we all know if one of them accidentally goes completely offline, Starscream won't bother to treat them. I wonder if this is part of his plan.

Thought 2: Awww Siblings

The interaction between Aftermath and Spitfire is suddenly more wholesome, too. Spitfire didn't stab him out of malice. She warned him about the charging, gave him a very controlled knock on the head, and immediately tossed him a bottle of cave water.

Despite the contact being short and controlled, Aftermath was immediately sent into severe energy deprivation, falling and whining in pain.

It seems like prior to this Aftermath was the only one taking the blows, as Spitfire suggested "next time we will trade." I have been wondering how much Spitfire cares about her sibling, and it turns out she cares about him enough to volunteer drawing her own blood so he doesn't have to suffer repeatedly. And he didn't even complain about it, possibly because 1) he has one braincell and didn't realize it's unfair, 2) he cares about his tiny little sister and volunteered to take up more responsibility as the large big brother.

So it's... both messed up and awwww siblings. Wish to see them more in S2C / S3B / S4 ^ ^

Theories and Implications

This also gives a clearer definition on how they broke through Terratronus's defense system. Basically they just hit her repeatedly with condensed chaos energy. This might imply that Cyber Slayer enhanced chaos energy is stronger than Quintus power.

I wonder if Starscream would have been able to get himself out of Terratronus if he had access to chaos energy. And, maybe the Decepticons could have been able to escape the Quintus-powered bubble if they had access to the Cyber Slayer.

I'm also curious how Starscream learned he could break Terratronus' defense system with chaos energy. The only other person who's aware of this seems to be Terratronus herself. Starscream also seems to know it even before getting Croft's hard-drive. And it's unlikely that he got the information during GHOST imprisonment - GHOST knew nothing about the Emberstone until Mandroid told them about it in S1E20. Starscream escaped in S1E21, likely during he power outage in S1E20. And Croft didn't retrieve the stone for Mandroid to study until S1E22.

I think the only two possibilities are:

Starscream's science degree thesis was about chaos energy and it was a such niche field that none of the other scientists know anything about it.

Starscream got the information from Mandroid. Either he unearthed some of Mandroid's top-secret research on the Emberstone while helping the Autobots clean up the mess, or he reached this conclusion by studying Mandroid's corpse.

[christinesficrecs]

Also, these gems are still on tumblr for your enjoyment. 🧡💙🧡 here, here, here, and especially this one. Oooh, this one too.

the lunch table configuration | 16.6K | Explicit

When Isaac makes Derek switch lunch tables, the last thing Derek expected was to fall for Stiles.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream | 105.1K | Explicit

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

The Hollow Moon | 180K

It’s the summer after Stiles’ first year of college, and he’s working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he’s okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn’t care about, nope, not at all.

Blind Date With A Book  | 30.3K

Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books.

Derek didn’t know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.

This Started As Only Make Believe | 44.1K | Explicit

Derek is trying (and failing) to juggle his career, coach lacrosse, and raise his 5 year old werewolf daughter. When he adds his bitter ex-wife and his daughter's slight attachment to him, Derek knows he doesn't have any time for a life of his own - and definitely no time for the super cute daycare teacher.

Past The Breakers | 40.7K

Stiles and Scott get summer jobs at the exclusive Seawolf Beach Resort, and the last thing Stiles expects is to start taking surf lessons from the hot lifeguard.

This Might Be Irony  | 38.3K

Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents’ death. But Derek’s in the popular group, he’s a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn’t have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.

And it all begins with two white boards.

heart as black as night | 97.7K | Explicit

It's 1924, and Derek Hale is a bootlegger and runs one of the many speakeasies in New York with the help of his Pack. They don't know, however, that he's also a hitman for his Uncle Peter, a shady Omega with mafia ties to whom Derek owes a huge debt.

Stiles Stilinski is about to graduate from high school and start working at the docks when he stumbles into the Sour Wolf, a speakeasy with lively music, a glamorous jazz singer, and a certain dark, handsome, and moody bartender that Stiles can't stop thinking about.

my heart’s been offline  | 58.8K

31/M/New York. Rich, lays in bed all day, likes to read (aka Derek Hale, son of an Oscar winning actress, brother of one obnoxious reality star and one rebellious fashion designer, hates the paparazzi so much he’s a recluse)

26/M/California. Boring office job, likes to read (aka Stiles Stilinski, co-owner of a 100 acre organic farm with his dad and two best friends, writer of obits for a newspaper, has absolutely no life)

Or, where Derek and Stiles meet online, and Stiles has no clue Derek’s part of a famous family.

I Ran (So Far) | 33.7K

In which Stiles’ summer starts off so badly he starts running, gets pelted by paint balls, and decides he is, in fact, going crazy if he willingly wants to hang out with Derek Hale.

But The World Won’t Stop Turning  | 19.9K

Derek glances at Stiles, who is watching him with a curious expression.

“Oh shit,�� Stiles exclaims as comprehension dawns on him. “Everything makes sense now. Derek, I know what the witch did, she cursed you with – “

But before Stiles is able to finish his sentence, everything fades away and Derek is surrounded by darkness.

I'll Be Seeing You | 81.4K | Explicit

In the summer of 1941, with the country on the brink of war, diner waiter Stiles meets Derek Hale, an army soldier just passing through Beacon Hills.

Babcia Knows Best | 11.8K

Stiles takes his grandmother to bingo every Thursday. Now there’s a new guy calling out the numbers, and his grandmother has decided to set them up.

Wild Horses | 78.9K | Explicit

Derek's a drifter with no home, no destination, and no will to live. Stiles works on his family's failing cattle and horse ranch while all his friends are going off to college. When Derek falls asleep in a random barn, exhausted and half-starved, he doesn't expect to wake up on the other end of the sheriff's shotgun. And Stiles sure as hell doesn't expect his dad to invite the drifter in for breakfast.

no aphrodisiac like loneliness  | 19.7K | Explicit

Stiles is 27 now, with a master’s degree and a career and a house and a serious boyfriend and a life in San Francisco that doesn’t include Derek. But then Stiles unexpectedly shows back up in Beacon Hills, and Derek would recognize that scent anywhere.

[zentriii]

Atsumu wonders if anyone would notice if his brain leaked out of his ears. The line he’s been standing in shuffles forward so slowly, he could’ve made an honest living in the time it took to make it to the front. But why make an honest living when a dishonest one is more fun?

“Next,” a bank teller calls and Atsumu’s grin broadens across his face in genuine glee.

Time for the fun part of this all.

Giddiness quickens his step until he reaches the man who called him. He forces himself to look a little less manic, if only to reduce the contrast between the two of them. The teller looks half asleep on his seat but brushes his curls out of his face and dutifully drones, “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to make a withdrawal.” Atsumu slides a document over the counter and drop a hand into his slightly open bag. Save for the cool surface of his gun tucked away in it, it’s quite empty and spacious. Perfect for today’s plans.

The man doesn’t spare his document a second glance and takes out one of his own. He gestures to a pen holder and says, “You can fill these out.”

Atsumu shakes his head with a slight smile still on his face. The man must be confused. “All my information is on this page.”

It’s a move he’s perfected. He’s practised it several times before, the picture of handsome ruefulness, it’s never failed him before. Yet the teller has the nerve to purse his thin chapped lips at him. He doesn’t even pick up Atsumu’s documents! “We need your information on this form to do a withdrawal.”

What? No–

Atsumu’s fingers start to tap against the counter top, he’s running out of time and being stared down by unimpressed pretty faces make his brain go offline. He picks up the pen and looks over the form before even realizing it.

“Do you need ID?” Atsumu asks, trying to pull threads of a backup plan into place because what the fuck? This was not supposed to go like this.

“Yes,” the teller bites. His customer service smile starting to fall apart. Not that there was much of one to begin with, but he’s gotten less friendly the more Atsumu puts up a fuss.

Atsumu used to work in retail himself. A part of him feels a sense of camaraderie with the poor guy. But the part of him that punched someone on the job before quitting? The part that grew up with a twin brother? They’re itching to piss him off even more, see what other reactions he can pull out of him before he breaks his professionalism.

“Not askin’ me out for dinner first? Why how forward of you, Moles-san,” Atsumu gasps dramatically, a hardly-delicate hand on his chest.

There’s the slightest twitch under the man’s eye but his stoicism is a stronger opponent that what Atsumu originally thought. “It’s Sakusa, please complete the form.”

He’ll have to up his game but at least he swiped his ex’s ID and held onto it. Dating another fake blond means no one looks further than the hair. It made for a plethora of annoying jokes but he has no reservations about taking all the advantages he can get.

Sakusa’s too busy rolling his eyes to take too close of a look at the card. It checks out.

Atsumu stares at the form in front of him. He came here to commit a robbery but instead, he’s been given the chance to pull the greatest form of revenge on his shitty ex. He carefully fills out information he probably shouldn’t have swiped when he knew they were over, and gleefully withdraws a large enough amount that should piss the unfeeling asshole off.

It goes through and fifteen minutes later he’s skipping out the bank, quite a few yen richer and robbery statement free. Hm. Hopefully Sakusa threw that out. He doesn’t think he’s the type to give out his number to recreational criminals and Atsumu plans on visiting again to ask for it.