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houseofanticipation · 2 months

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It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

#CW im told this one is realer than usual so be warned #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #breeding toy #r@petoy #r@pe kink

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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months

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A message.

I’d like to start by saying once more (due to it being the cause of so many hateful messages) that I support Palestine.

I donate to charities that fund several of the organisations that help and I use my business in the best way I can to give my services for free to fundraisers that also raise money for these causes. Shy of showing you my personal bank statements and private emails between myself and my clients, I don’t have any ways of showing this on tumblr.

I have several social media platforms, I have a business that I run, I have friends and family I talk to, I have an entire life off of this website. I choose to use tumblr to post my writing and for the most part, it’s become a really important space for me. Writing is one of the few things I truly do for myself. I enjoy it immensely and it can really bring me a lot of peace.

I choose not to blog anything other my writing, other people’s writing and general fandom related things on my blog because I like to keep it as that small space for myself and one of the things I love most. I understand wholly that that is a privilege in itself and I will not shy away from that fact.

However, I will not condone being hunted for the choices I make. For the vast majority of you, I am a stranger online and no one, absolutely no one, knows what I do off of this website. I won’t allow anyone to judge me on what they don’t see and don’t understand.

The size of my following was not a choice I made, it was not something I deliberately aimed for and it was not something I tried hard to make sure I achieved. It wasn’t the goal of this blog. I don’t deem myself capable of “influencing” anyone in anyway. I’m a fanfiction writer. I’m not a politician, I don’t claim to be the most educated person on political and worldwide matters. I simply would like to believe that everyone tries to help in anyway they can. I know not everyone has the financial means to donate and instead they choose to raise awareness in other ways - that’s absolutely okay.

But I - and others - do not have to follow the rule book someone else deemed law. You see, I gave my views and reasons and it wasn’t good enough. And now, if I chose to reblog certain things, I’m pretty sure I’d be dragged for being performative, or “back tracking.” I fear that with some people, who like to hide behind an anonymous button, I cannot win. Despite an argument revolving around real life issues, I think I can safely say it came across as a very personal attack.

As other people have mentioned before, I also don’t enjoy the idea of writing smut and happy ever after’s about our favourite fictional men and then reblogging the death of others in real life straight after. I know that’s the world right now. I’m aware. I read articles, I watch the news, I follow accounts on Twitter, on Instagram and I try and keep myself as up to date and as educated as possible. I just don’t show that on this one platform.

As many of you know, I do run my own business. I’m also five months pregnant. I’m definitely experiencing more stress than I usually do. I’m very happy and enjoying my pregnancy immensely but I struggled with sickness and tiredness for the majority of it so far. Whats to come in the next four months and beyond fills me with excitement and anxiety and nerves. Coming onto tumblr and writing about fiction is a little reprieve from that - again, a privilege I am so aware of.

But I won’t be tolerating any more hateful messages, I won’t be arguing with anyone. I’m not lowering myself to it. You can talk about me passively aggressively, you can choose to hate me, that’s fine. I’m happy blocking people and moving on. Anons will be off indefinitely, it’s been proven that too many people are willing to hide behind them. After the messages regarding myself and my unborn child, quite frankly, there’s not a lot of trust left when it comes to knowing how far people will sink.

I’ve said all I’d like to say on the matter, I’ve told people where I stand, my views on the genocide that is occurring, what I’m able to do about it in my personal life and why I choose to keep this particular space the way I do.

I hope everyone can try to understand and respect that. If you don’t, that’s fine, that’s your prerogative. I don’t go out of my way to challenge, or police, or demand things from people I do not know. I hope that no one thinks that they have the right to do that to myself and others. I’m under no obligation to follow someone else’s rules.

I don’t know what the future holds for this blog, pregnancy and real life is very much taking priority over writing at the moment, but I do like to try when I can. I can’t lie either, the messages and their content that I received really left me feeling dejected and frustrated, this fandom really has turned into something rather poisonous. I’d like to be able to rise above it and in the mean time, even if I’m not always present, I’d like people to be able to access the stories I worked really hard on.

Thank you for reading,

Emmy 🧡

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

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You can’t shop your way out of a monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

If you're running a business, you can either invest at being good at your business, or good at Google SEO. Choose the former and your customers will love you – but they won't be able to find you, thanks to the people who choose the latter. And if you're going to invest in top-notch SEO, why bother investing in quality at all?

For more than a decade, Google has promised that it would do something about "lead gens" – services that spoof Google into thinking that they are local businesses, pushing down legit firms on both regular search and Google Maps (these downranked businesses invested in quality, not SEO, remember). Search for a roofer, a plumber, an electrician, or a locksmith (especially a locksmith), and most or all of the results will be lead-gens. They'll take your call, pretend to be a local business, and then call up some half-qualified bozo to come out and charge you four times the going rate for substandard work:

https://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/31/business/fake-online-locksmiths-may-be-out-to-pick-your-pocket-too.html

Some of them just take your money and they "go back to the shop for a tool" and never return:

https://www.riverfronttimes.com/news/when-a-fake-business-used-a-real-st-louis-address-things-got-weird-32087998

Google has been promising to fix this since the late aughts, and to be fair, it's a little better. There was once a time when a map of Manhattan showed more locksmiths than taxis:

https://blumenthals.com/blog/2009/02/18/google-maps-proves-more-locksmiths-in-nyc-than-cabs/

But GMaps is trapped in the enshittification squeeze. On the one hand, the company wants to provide a good and reliable map. On the other hand, the company makes money selling "ads" that are actually payola, where a business can pay to get to the top of the listings or get displayed on the map itself. Zoom out of Google's map of central London and the highlighted landmarks are a hilarious mix of "organic" and paid listings: the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, the Barbican, the London Eye…and a random oral and maxillofacial clinic in the financial district:

https://twitter.com/dylanbeattie/status/1764711667663831455

Hell of a job "organizing the world's information and making it universally accessible and useful," Big G. Doubtless the average Londoner finds the presence of this clinic super helpful in orienting themselves relative to the map on their phone screens, and it's a real service to tourists hoping to hit all the major landmarks.

It's not just Maps users who'd noticed the rampant enshittification. Even the original design team is so horrified they're moved to speak out about the moral injury they experience seeing the product they worked so hard on turned into a giant pile of shit:

https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182

Now, when it comes to locksmiths, I'm lucky. My neighborhood in Burbank includes the wonderful Golden State Lock and Safe, which has been in business since 1942:

https://www.goldenstatelock.com/

But you wouldn't know it from searching GMaps for a locksmith near me. That search turns up a long list of scams:

https://www.google.com/maps/search/locksmith/@34.1750451,-118.369948,14z/data=!3m1!4b1?entry=ttu

It also turns up plenty of Keyme machines – these are private-equity backed, self-serve key-cutting machines placed in grocery stores. Despite Keyme calling itself a "locksmith," it's just a badly secured, overcaptilized, enshittification-bound system for collecting and retaining shapefiles for the keys to millions of homes, cross-referenced with billing information that will make it easy for the eventual hackers to mass-produce keys for all those poor suckers' houses.

(Hilariously, Keyme claims to be an "AI" company):

https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20200114005194/en/KeyMe-Raises-35-Million-to-Further-Its-Mission-of-Building-the-Premier-Locksmith-Services-Company-in-the-Nation

But despite the fact that you can literally see the Golden State storefront from Google Streetview, Google Maps claims to have no knowledge of it. Instead, Streetview labels Golden State "Keyme" – and displays a preview showing a locksmith using a tool to break into a jeep (I'd dearly love to know how the gadget next to the Slurpee machine at the 7-Eleven will drive itself to your jeep and unlock the door for you when you lose your keys):

https://www.google.com/maps/place/KeyMe+Locksmiths/@34.1752624,-118.3487531,3a,75y,350.19h,90.21t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssHrtqjqvgFir3NBauMy13Q!2e0!7i16384!8i8192!4m15!1m8!3m7!1s0x80c2959cd65dbb1b:0x4b3744cf87492a71!2sBurbank+Blvd+%26+N+Hollywood+Way,+Burbank,+CA+91505!3b1!8m2!3d34.1750025!4d-118.3493484!16s%2Fg%2F11f37_3lq8!3m5!1s0x80c2951cedbf4d39:0xe8ff9fd5872e66e9!8m2!3d34.1755176!4d-118.349!16s%2Fg%2F11mw7nr4fx?entry=ttu

It's pretty clear to me what's going on here. Keyme has hired some SEO creeps and/or paid off Google, flooding the zone with listings for its machines. Meanwhile, Golden State, being merely good at locksmithing, has lost the SEO wars. Perhaps Golden State could shift some of its emphasis from being good at locksmithing in order to get better at SEO, but this is a race that will always be won by the firm that puts the most into SEO, which will always be the firm that puts the least into quality.

Whenever I write about this stuff, people inevitably ask me which search engine they should use, if not Google?

And there's the rub.

Google used predatory pricing and anticompetitive mergers to acquire a 90% search market-share. The company spends more than $26b/year buying default position in every place where you might possibly encounter a new search engine. This created the "kill zone" – the VC's term of art for businesses that no one will invest in, because Google makes sure that no one will ever find out it exists:

https://www.theverge.com/23802382/search-engine-google-neeva-android

That's why the only serious competitor to Google is Bing, another Big Tech company (Bing is also the primary source of results on Duckduckgo, which is why DDG sometimes makes exceptions for Microsoft's privacy-invading tracking):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DuckDuckGo#Controversies

Google tells us that the quid-pro-quo of search monopolization is search excellence. The hundreds of billions it makes every year through monopoly control gives it the resources it needs to fight spammers and maintain search result quality. Anyone who's paid attention recently knows that this is bullshit: Google search quality is in free-fall, across all its products:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

But Google doesn't seem to think it has a problem. Rather than devoting all its available resources to fighting botshit, spam and scams, the company set $80 billion dollars alight last year with a stock buyback that was swiftly followed with 12,000 layoffs, followed by multiple subsequent rounds of layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

The scams that slip through Google's cracks are sometimes nefarious, but just as often they're decidedly amateurish, the kind of thing that Google could fix by throwing money at the problem, say, to validate that new ads for confirmed Google merchants come from the merchant's registered email addresses and go to the merchant's registered website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Search is a capital intensive business, and there are real returns to scale, as the UK Competition and Market Authority's excellent 2020 study describes:

https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/5fe4957c8fa8f56aeff87c12/Appendix_I_-_search_quality_v.3_WEB_.pdf

But Google doesn't seem to think that its search needs that $80 billion to fight the spamwars. That's the thing about monopolists, they get complacent. As Lily Tomlin's "Ernestine the AT&T operator" used to say, "We don't care, we don't have to, we're the phone company."

That's why I'm so excited about the DOJ Antitrust Division monopolization case against Google. Trusting one company to "organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful," was a failure:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/justice-department-sues-google-monopolizing-digital-advertising-technologies

I understand why people want to know which search engine they should use instead of Google, and I get why, "There aren't any good search engines" is such an unsatisfactory answer. I understand why each fresh round of printer-company fuckery prompts people to ask "which printer should I get?" and I understand why "There are only six major printer companies and they're all suffering from end-stage enshittification" isn't what anyone wants to hear.

We want to be able to vote with our wallets, because it's so much faster and more convenient than voting with our ballots. But the vote-with-your-wallet election is rigged for the people with the thickest wallets. Try as hard as you'd like, you just can't shop your way out of a monopoly – that's like trying to recycle your way out of the climate emergency. Systemic problems need systemic solutions – not individual ones.

That's why the new antitrust matters so much. The answer to monopolies is to break up companies, block and unwind mergers, ban deceptive and unfair conduct. "Caveat emptor" is the scammer's motto. You shouldn't have to be an expert on lead gen scams to hire a locksmith without getting ripped off.

There are good products and services out there. Earlier this year, we decided to install a (non-networked) programmable pushbutton lock. I asked Deviant Ollam – whom I know from Defcon's Lockpicking Village – for a recommendation and he suggested the Schlage FE595:

https://www.schlage.com/en/home/products/FE595PLYFFFFLA.html

I liked it so much I bought another one for my office door. Eric from Golden State Lock and Safe installed it while I wrote this blog-post. It's great. I recommend both of 'em – 10/10, would do business again.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

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/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#vapor-locksmith

Image: alicia rae (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kehole_Red.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

Budhiargomiko (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wasteland.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #enshittification #locksmith scams #google #google maps #monopoly #doj #seo #big tech

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tastesoftamriel · 20 hours

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Hey everyone. I'm really upset rn but much longer description of this fundraiser below the cut as it's quite the ramble.

My private PhD funding was immediately cut without warning this week, leaving me with no option but to crowdfund the next half year of studies (Sept-Jan 2024/5).

As suggested by some friends, I have made a crowdfund for my tuition fees for the next academic year. I have only listed half a year's tuition to start with as I will be on fieldwork next year, and will have a slight reduction in fees over that period. If I need to by then I will start a new fundraiser but I want to be totally transparent about how much money I am raising and where it is going.

I need to have the full amount raised by early September. Anyway this is a massive amount of money and if I even get close I'll be grateful. I am looking at every possible open funding option, I have considered a loan but wasn't eligible (both in SG and UK). This is a really a mortifying last resort. I'm sorry.

Over this period I will be opening my books for editing and writing commissions again. Please watch this space for announcements, I cannot start immediately as I'm currently at a really busy point in the term.

Anyway, thank you for reading this far. I'm holding out hope I get academic funding at some point in the next few months because I can't fathom the thought of my entire life crumbling around me again.

Sceptical about the veracity of this crowdfund? Want to know more about my research? Head over to my public anthropology blog, @painthropologist or shoot me a DM! I love talking academia!

#Not tes #Crowdfund #Academia #phdblr #phd life #PhD #University #Help #Boost #Signal boost #Study #social anthropology #anthropology

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rafetopia · 5 months

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𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!drug boss!reader

genre: smut with some plot -> 18+ only!!

warnings: knife play, gun play, blood play, blood licking, mentions of death, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, implied sex on drugs, chocking (sexual way)...., i hope i didn't forget anything but yeah this one here is a little bit darker

even though this is all written with the intention that it's 100% consensual, please keep in mind that guns, knives (and indirectly drugs) are involved

words: ~5.7k

summary: a visit to his drug boss turned into a fight over control and power which can only one of them win

note: this is also repost from my old blog (dreamingwithrafe) and honestly, idk if this is edited

48 hours. That’s the amount of time Rafe Cameron had to come up with five thousand dollars. Sure, for someone like him this shouldn't be a big deal but his dad cut off his money as a punishment for misusing the money he gave him for generators after the storm “Agatha'' hit the outer banks. He was broke and in deep shit. So deep, that alone the thought of time passing every second sent a cold shiver down his spine. He knew Barry wasnt one to fuck with, no drug dealer was but it was something else, something that Barry said before Rafe left his house, that wouldnt leave his brain.

“If you’re screwing me, it’s not just me that you’re screwing, it’s her.”

Her.

Now, Rafe Cameron had never met her before but he heard the stories. Stories of cars burning in driveways, stories of boats that fail in the middle of the ocean and even whole companies being shut down all because of her. Not a lot of people on this island have ever come across her, or maybe they have but never knew it was her. Those unlucky souls that did indeed meet her, described her as a woman made of nothing but cold beauty, as if the devil made her himself. Eyes so pure and warm, a body so divine and perfect with a soul so dark and evil, even Lucifer himself would shiver if he ever looked into it.

But Rafe didn't believe these stories. How could a woman, described as barely older than him, be capable of something like that? How could someone with eyes so pure be so evil and yet, even though he tried to convince himself, alone the thought of being exposed to her anger, sent shivers down his spine.

And yet, he found himself at the address, an unknown number texted him, as word got around that he wanted to meet her. He had to check twice if he was at the right address, since he found himself in front of his step moms favorite flower shop.

He let his hand trace over his back pocket, checking if everything he might need was there, before he took a deep breath and walked towards the store.

“Hello darling, what can I do for you?” An elderly woman asked as soon as he entered the shop.

“I uhmm…” He paused as he tried to remember the code word that was given him. “I am here for uhmm… black lilies.”

“Black lilies?” She asked as she raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. Black lilies.”

“Well then you have to come with me, sir.” She signalized him to follow her and walked into the private area of the shop where she stopped in front of a door. She opened it with her key before signaling him to go inside. It was an old utility room, or so he thought. In reality it was some sort of elevator that brought him down into the basement of the building.

When the door opened, he found himself in some sort of dark office. It looked comfortable, even though it had no sort of daylight. Even though the room had no windows, it smelled fresh in there, like flowers. He quickly found them on the shelf next to another door, probably coming from the flower shop above them. In the middle was a desk and behind it, sat a woman, with a glass of brown liquor in her right hand and a newspaper in the other. She was laying back in her chair with her feet resting on the desk.

“I’ve been expecting you, Rafe Cameron.” She said, without looking up at the man in front of the elevator. “Now come on darling, take a seat.” She smiled softly as she gestured to the seat on the other side of the desk. He was only now able to see her whole and they weren’t wrong. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, with eyes so soft he felt like he could tell her everything. Her wavy hair was falling over her shoulders gracefully, matching her silky black dress perfectly. he didn’t see much of it, since it was hidden behind her desk but it was tight, so tight that he could see the borders of what he assumed were nipple piercings, making it hard for Rafe to keep his eyes up.

“Thank you, Miss …”

“(Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N).” He finished.

“Now, can I offer you something to drink, Mr. Cameron?” She asked, with a smile so beautiful, one could easily forget who she was.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“So whiskey or vodka? I also got rum but you don’t really seem like a rum type of person.”

“Whiskey.” He answered shortly.

She nodded and poured him a drink. He took the time she was distracted to look around her office a little bit more, trying to figure out if she could have any weapons hidden but there was one thing he’d noticed immediately, since the second he entered that office.

“So… are you alone down here?” He asked, trying to hide the slight shakiness in his voice.

She looked at him in disbelief before handing him his drink. “That’s not a subtle way to find out if it’s just the two of us, Mr. Cameron.”

“Oh god, no I… I just thought that maybe you’d have some security or something.”

“See darling, if i’ve learned one thing during my few years in this business, it’s to not trust anyone else with my safety, except myself.” She scoffed. “But why are you asking? Are your intentions not as pure as I thought they were?” She asked carefully, her eyes never leaving him.

Her gaze burned right through him, causing him to shit around in his seat. “Oh no they are as pure as they can be.” He spoke, his voice a little bit shakier than he intended to be and his eyes not leaving the desk in front of him, as he desperately tried to avoid hers. He was clearly nervous and she knew it.

“Hmmm.” She purred as she swung her legs from the table in order to position herself closer to him. He now looked around the room, pretending like he was just waiting for a response when he suddenly felt a cold material against his skin, gently pushing his face up. He didn't need to look in order to know what it was, he knew exactly what the barrel of a gun felt like. He swallowed at the realization, now slowly looking up into her eyes. What once seemed so warm and welcoming once, now turned ice cold. “Then tell me, pretty boy, why aren’t you able to look me in the eyes? You haven't once since you arrived here, only starring when I wasn’t looking. Such a shame actually, you have such pretty eyes.”

“I…” He wanted to say something but it was like the words suddenly left his brain, but even if he had known what to say, he wouldn’t have gotten any word out due to his throat turning dry as dust.

“Shht it’s okay, darling, I knew about that gun in your backpocket since the moment you got here. You should really learn how to hide it better. Now tell me, why did you want to meet?” She smirked, “And before you answer, slowly put your gun up here and leave your hands on the table. Don’t bother lying sweetheart, I’ll know.” Her voice turned dark now, nothing like the sweet sound from when he first got there.

“Fine.” He growled, as he reached into his back pocket and did as he was told. She pushed the gun aside with a grin, her eyes still not leaving him for a second. “I owe you money, a lot actually and-”

“And you wanted to ask for more time?” She let out a soft laugh.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend like you didn’t know that already.” The boy scoffed and it was as if something shifted in him. “Now you have my hands and my gun, what about you putting that thing away so we can have a civilized conversation.”

“So, so many demands, one could think you’re the one charge.”

“Oh no baby, we all know you are.” He smirked, a dark sparkle in his light eyes.

She was clearly surprised at his sudden confidence but impressed enough to put the gun away. “So you came here, only to tell me that you have no money?” She chuckled. “That’s bold.”

“I thought maybe I could do something else for you, to pay my debt.” The young man proposed, causing the girl to raise an eye. “A job, of course.” He added quickly as he realized how his proposal sounded at first. Even though he would have lied to himself if he said he wouldn’t be open for that as well.

“And what job do you have in mind Mr. Cameron?” She asked as she leaned forward, crossing her arms under her chest. “What could you possibly do for me that would cover your debt?”

“You tell me.” He smirked confidently. “You’re the boss, aren't you?” Now it was him that moved closer to her. It was hard to tell for either of them where this new found confidence came from when his heart was in his boots only moments ago. But there was something else Rafe was feeling, a feeling that came up everytime she laid her eyes on him. He was smitten by her beauty and her power and he didn’t want to admit it but he was impressed. How did she manage to climb that ladder up so high, in a business that was dominated by middle aged men?

“Right… You know, I might actually have a job for you.”

“Continue…”

She told him about how she needed a driver for her next shipment since her regular one got into an accident. It was an easy job and would pay way more than he owed her. He was in immediately, no further questions asked. She was about to explain the details when her phone started ringing.

“Excuse me.” She mumbled as she grabbed her phone and disappeared into the next room.

While she was gone, Rafe used the time to look around when his eyes fell on the leftovers of some white powder next to her glass. He wasn’t craving anything right now, but he knew he’d be later.

Rafe also knew it was a bad idea from the moment he got it but he knew how the withdrawal would feel like, he had to go through it way too often before. So he got up and carefully looked around, trying to find any sign of her coming back but he could still hear her cussing around in the other room in a language that he assumed was Spanish. It made sense since he knew she had contacts in middle and south america.

He walked around the desk, trying not to make a sound, until he was standing next to her empty chair. He tried to open the drawers but none of them would open except for one. He carefully opened it and there it was, a tiny bag of white powder.

He thought about it for another moment, knowing this would probably be the stupidest thing he ever did, even worse than buying that bike from the generator money, but then, when the addiction hit, no one was able to think rational and Rafe Cameron the least.

He took the bag and quietly closed the drawer, again, trying not to make any alarming noises.

He shoved the bag into his pocket and let himself fall back into the seat, as he waited for her to come back.

“I’m so sorry darling, someone messed up my last shipment and now they’ve got the cops investigating.”

“I… I’m sorry to hear that ma’am.”

“Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart, it will resolve itself on its own soon.” She smirked confidently as if she had a backup plan for something like this all along.

“I’m afraid I have to leave now…” Rafe stumbled, trying to contain his voice from becoming all shaky again but it was hard considering he just robbed a drug boss. “Can you… can you text me the details?”

“Sure.” She answered, with a smile on her face that was way too soft and friendly for his liking.

He got up and reached out to shake her hand, which she returned. “Then…thank you for giving me this chance and I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, you won’t.” She smirked and got closer to him, dangerously closer to him.

He gave her a stern and rather uncomfortable nod before he turned around on his heels, dying to get out of there as soon as possible. He thought he did it when he suddenly felt the cold metal of a gun pressed against his head. He closed his eyes at the feeling, trying to stay calm because he knew doing that was his best and probably only option.

“Did you really think I would just let you walk away after you stole from me?” She whispered into his ear, followed by a soft laugh. “You really are dumber than I thought.”

“If you shoot me, you will never see your money.” He spoke quietly.

“You think I’m relying on your money?” She chuckled. “Sweetheart, I'd buy myself a new pair of heels from the money you owe me.” He took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do next. He still had his gun in his back pocket but she was standing so close to him, he was sure that she even felt it against her leg. “Now put your hands up, pretty boy.”

He did as told and slowly turned around, now looking directly into her stone cold eyes. He tried to keep cool but his heart was pounding like it never had before. He was scared, obviously but there was also something about this scenario that turned him on. Maybe it was the intoxicating smell of her perfume, maybe it was the way her eyes flickered when she scanned him upside down, or maybe it was the way her dress hugged her body so perfectly, like it was made just for her, revealing just the perfect amount of skin but not too much. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, she was dangerous, she was a killer and soon she would have his blood on her hands but if she was so bad, then why was so down for her?

He tried to hide it but she saw the fear in his eyes. He was terrified and she thought it was adorable. She didn’t lie earlier, she never lied, he did have pretty eyes and if she wasn't careful she might have lost herself in them. She had trouble admitting it to herself but she was intrigued. How could such a pretty boy, coming from one of the richest families of the island get himself in so much trouble? Stealing from her? Especially after she was so gracious and offered him a job to pay his debt? She knew what she had to do, she had to keep up her reputation after all but if she knew what to do then why wasn’t he dead on the floor already? Why was he still standing in front of her? If she knew what to do then why wasn’t he on his knees, pleading for his damn life? If she knew what to do then why was she still standing there, thinking about the taste of his lips on hers?

He got closer to her, as he bit his lips while his eyes flickered from hers down to her lips. He was close, his lips almost touching hers and his breath so hot against her skin it always felt like he could burn her. She was the one with her finger against the trigger and yet her heart beat so fast, she thought it might explode.

“So what, you gonna shoot me now?” He whispered.

“You know I have to. You stole from me.”

“Hm.” He chuckled softly against her lips. “Then do it sweetheart, shoot me.”

She closed her eyes, preparing to pull the trigger when she suddenly felt his lips on hers. The kiss was slow and shaky at first, considering he still had a gun to his head but it quickly turned into something hungry and passionate. She leaned into it as she pushed him against the wall behind them. She could feel him smirking against her lips as his hand wandered over her hips until it landed on her ass. She tried to stay focused, careful not to lose control with her gun still pressed onto his head, signaling him one wrong move and it could all be over. But she couldn't keep her focus for long, as his kisses got more intense each second and his hand movements became bolder with each kiss. It was as if he forgot about his situation, or as if he just stopped caring. She was about to forget it herself when he suddenly swung her around, making her drop the gun at the harsh impact against the wall. She wanted to do something about it but got quickly stopped by a clicking sound and the feeling of cold metal against her head.

She swallowed at the sudden change of situation, knowing he was in control now. She silently cursed at herself for not taking his gun away when she stopped him in front of the elevator but maybe some part of her knew what they were doing when she chose to ignore it.

“You dropped something, princess.” He smirked, knowing god damn well he won this round. “I’m in charge now.”

“Looks like it.” She whispered as she bit her lip. “Then tell me darling, what happens next?”

(Y/N) would lie if she said she didn’t like how the tables have turned. She would lie if she said it didn’t drive her crazy how he tricked her into losing her focus. She would lie when she said it didn’t make her even hornier than before and the pool in her thong proved it.

She could regain control of the situation with ease and he would be stupid if he thought otherwise. (Y/N) knew what she was doing, she knew to never rely on solely one weapon, she knew better than that.

Coward. She thought to herself after she didn’t get any response. She leaned in and started kissing his neck in order to take matters into her own hand. She knew what she had to do and his lack of anticipation only made it easier for her. Or so she thought.

“Wanna make you feel good.” She breathed into his ear as she gently dug her teeth into his soft skin. “Please.”

“But what gentleman would I be if I wouldn't make sure you’re satisfied first?” He smiled. “Rafe Cameron always makes sure his girl is satisfied first.”

She swallowed at the realization that he saw right through her. Because Rafe knew better than to trust her. “Now head back against the wall, princess.” He grinned. “And don’t move.”

She did as she was told and leant back. He leant in as he started placing wet kisses on her neck before traveling back to her lips where his tongue quickly gained control of her mouth. His one finger still on the trigger, his other hand went down and slowly crawled under the dress where he was met with the sharp end of a pocket knife. He laughed at the pain, knowing he was right.

“Hm, would you look at that?” He grinned as he pulled it out from beneath her dress, blood dripping down his hand. “Look what you did to me baby.” He didn't really expect an answer and he didn’t get one. All he got was a wicked smirk on her lips and a look so evil, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. She slowly reached on to his hand, never breaking eye contact as she put his fingers into her mouth, careful not to cut herself with the knife still in his hands. She sucked off every single drop of blood before releasing his fingers.

“Took care of it, didn’t I?”

He chuckled at the realization of what just happened before leaning back in. The kiss was hungrier now, as his tongue traced her mouth, making him taste his own blood on her tongue. He put the gun back into his pocket, knowing it would be easier if he focused on one weapon at a time.

She could feel the sharp blade tracing over her skin as he cut off her thong with one quick cut. She whined at the pain as the knife cut her skin, causing Rafe to giggle. “What? Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He asked with a tone of fake concern in his voice.

“Just a tickle.”

“Hmmm.” He mourned against her skin as he let his tongue travel over her skin, cleaning up the blood trail the knife caused. “So sweet.”

She gasped at the burning pain when his saliva met her wound but let her head fall back against the wall, as his tongue swirled through her folds and sweet moans escaped her mouth. This man knew exactly what he was doing as he let the tip of his tongue trace over her clit before slamming it back inside. He still held the knife in his one hand, ready just in case she got any stupid ideas but his other hand was free to support his tongue. She held up her leg and laid it onto his shoulder, giving him not only more space to work his wonders but also giving her control over his movements. Because even if Rafe thought he had all the power, (Y/N) would never give up complete control.

She tried to keep quiet at first, not wanting Rafe to know how much she loved this but he saw how wet she was before and he could feel her walls tighten around his tongue, knowing she was close.

“Don’t try to hide your pretty voice for me darling, let me hear you.” He muffled against her pussy, sending vibrations through her body that only brought her closer to the edge.

“Don’t… don’t stop!” She whimpered between her moans.

And he didn’t stop. He kept going faster and deeper until her screams filled the room and he was pretty sure the lady from above could hear them. He helped her ride out her orgasm and licked it all clean afterwards, looking like a little boy who just got his first ice cream.

“Now, on your knees.” He demanded, as he let his pants slip down his legs, revealing his cock in front of her. She smirked at the sight, disappointed that her plan didn't work earlier but still hungry for him.

She opened up as she let the tip of his length slide over tongue, the taste of precum traveling through her mouth. He still had the knife in his hand but her movements ripped him out of reality and forced him to forget his environment, only focusing on the touch of her tongue on his skin. (Y/N) knew exactly what she was doing, her tongue tracing over his cock as if it was programmed to do just this and nothing else.

She looked up at him with innocent eyes but he could see an evil sparkle shining right back at him.

It didn’t take long until he was falling apart inside her but she took it all, like he did before. He was so wrapped up in the feeling of euphoria that he hadn’t noticed and before he knew she was standing right in front of him with the knife under his chin. As he slowly came to realize what just happened, he tried to carefully reach into his back pocket but he was met with nothing.

“You looking for this, pretty boy?” She smirked devilishly, as she let the small gun spin through her fingers.

He swallowed, knowing that she had it all and he had indeed, nothing. “What now, princess? Gonna kill me now?” He got closer to her, completely ignoring the sharp pain of the knife that started to bury itself into his skin. “Do it. Do it baby but we both know that we’re not quite finished yet.” He whispered against her skin, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

She knew she could end it now, end it and she would win. But then she would never know how he would feel inside of her. She would never know how it feels to have him thrusting against her g-spot or how it would feel to be skin to skin with his naked body.

“You’re hesitating.” He stated, with narrowed eyes as if he was about to realize something. He chuckled softly, before slowly taking her wrist and moving it away from his throat. “You can let go sweetheart, I'm not going to run from you.”

She looked up at him, debating whether she should trust him or not. He gently let his hand slide through her hair as he pulled away loose strands and tugged them behind her ear and for a second, he could’ve sworn there was a softness in her eyes that he had never seen before. “I don’t…” She tried to say but she was too distracted. Too distracted by his hand in her hair and his other on her wrist and too distracted by his scent that blew through her nose, intoxicating all her senses.

“Shhht.” He whispered softly, with his finger now on her lips. “You don’t have to say anything darling.” He smiled. “Just relax.”

She looked at him, his eyes full of warmth, something that she hasn’t seen too often before. It felt as if he genuinely liked her, as if genuinely cared but then who was she fooling, he probably just wanted to distract her into giving into him once again. And it worked. The moment his lips touched hers she lost. The kiss was slow, not as hungry and passionate as before, as if he tried to calm her down. As if he could feel how fast her heart beat in her chest, how nervous she became with every second. He gently pushed her back against the table, hoping she’d let go of the weapons in her hands but she held steady. He had her but she was still the one in control and he hated that. His mouth wandered to her neck where he traced his tongue up to her ear, gently nibbling around her earlobe.

“Hop up baby.” He breathed into her, causing her to moan out at the tickling feeling in her ear.

The feeling shot through her whole body as she lost control of any power circling through her hands. She lost the feeling of metal against her skin but she didn’t notice, not even the klirr as the gun met the ground beneath her. All she felt was his hot breath against her skin and his erection against her cunt, that she lost sight of everything around her.

She did as told and hopped up on her desk. Rafe let go of her wrist and held up his arms, so she could pull off his shirt. She laid the knife beside her and pushed the fabric of his shoulders while he pushed his boxers down his legs completely. He then pushed her dress away under her ass until he could pull it off her body. He stopped for a second, completely hypnotized by the beauty of her body. The tattoos that marked her skin, a thin, red dragon that made its way up her rips in the right side of her body, a black rose under her left boob and many other small ones such as a date under her right boob. But the one that caught his attention the most was a snake, just between her tits. Thin, black lines with red details that crawled their way up her sternum. It only took over a small part of her body, and yet it looked incredibly majestic.

She watched him as he mustered her body, probably thinking what each of the pictures on her skin meant. He gently let his hand travel over her skin, until his thumbs reached her nipples. He carefully slid over the cold metal of her piercings, causing her to get goosebumps all over her skin.

“You’re beautiful.” He smiled softly. “Now lay down for me princess.”

She swung her leg over the table, accidentally pushing off their glasses from before. She winced at the sound of the glass breaking but quickly calmed down as Rafe hopped on right behind her, now sitting on top of her. His lips not even inches away from hers, he let his finger slide over her skin until he reached her clit. He gently massaged her until he slid inside, making sure she was ready for him.

“Please…” She whimpered, but he pulled out his fingers and placed them on her mouth, making her taste herself.

“Patience darling.” He whispered against her lips, “You want me inside of you but I don’t even know your name.”

He was right, she had only told him her last name. Only very close people to her knew her first name and Rafe Cameron, was so far away from close and yet he was the one she felt the closest to she had felt in a very long time.

“(Y/N)…” She breathed against his skin, “It’s… It’s (Y/N)”

“How pretty. Now are you gonna be a good girl for me (Y/N)?” He smiled at her nod and gently pushed himself inside her. She was indeed ready for him as he didn’t even need to use his fingers for help.

They both moaned out in sync at the feeling of him inside her. He took her hand and buried his inside, while his other hand went to her throat. She let out a quiet moan at the pressure against it, and let her hand travel through his hair, pulling him down into her lips.

While she dominated his mouth, he had control of his movements. It was as if they were made for each other, his tip perfectly reaching her spot every time he thrusted into her walls hugging him so tight, as if they never wanted to let him go again.

“You’re so tight baby girl…” He breathed out, “So perfect for me.”

She wrapped her legs around his back, losing one of her heels in the process. She pushed him even closer into her, almost screaming at the feeling as he thrusted into her even stronger. Her walls tightened around him, he knew she was close but he didn’t want it to end yet, no he wanted this to last forever.

“Rafe…” She whimpered, tears in her eyes as he pushed her closer towards her breaking point.

“Hold on baby girl, hold on for me.” He whispered as he leaned in for another kissing session. His one hand united with hers, his other leaving choking marks on her neck while her nails traced red lines over his back, so that everyone knew who he belonged to. Her.

She had never felt this sort of connection before, sure he messed up, he had bad intentions the second he entered her office but she couldn’t help it. He had her wrapped around his finger and they both knew it. Maybe it was his smile, maybe it was the way his scent intoxicated her thoughts or maybe it was just the drugs but in this moment she would’ve done everything for him and (Y/N) was never one to fall for anyone.

“Faster baby.” She whimpered between the kisses, a wish he was only happy to grant.

He sped up his pace causing her to scream out his name. “Music to my ears.” He chuckled. He then went even faster as his orgasm started to build up as well.

“Hm can’t hold it anymore…” She cried out, a tear streaming down her face. “Please…”

He thrusted into her harder and merciless as her walls tightened around him and they both let out moans and screams of pleasure as they reached their breaking points.

She had her eyes closed, as she tried to recover from her high, a soft smile on her lips. He took that picture in for a second, her makeup all messed up from her tears. It was a beautiful sight and he wished he would never have to look at something different but he also knew what he had to do.

She was about to open her eyes and say something, when she felt cold and sharp metal pressed against her throat. She opened her eyes back up and looked at his, eyes dark but with a hint of sorrow buried inside of them.

“Hm.” She scoffed. “Of course.” She tried to stay cool but he saw the tears forming in her eyes.

He was still sitting on her, pressing her body down on and cornering her between himself and the cold table beneath them. There was no way for her to turn this around and they both knew it.

He made her give up her weapon and she trusted him. She let down her guard, something that she had never done before with anyone and now she had to pay the price.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into her ear as he leaned down. “But we both knew this could only end in two ways.” He paused, leaning back to look into her eyes, gently wiping away the tear rolling out of her beautiful eye. “And… and it seems like I won.”

“Seems like you did.” She whispered before closing her eyes and accepting whatever fate it was that Rafe Cameron had for her.

add yourself to my tag list here

#jas writes ❥#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader

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sluttywonwoo · 11 months

Text

instead of you [part seventeen] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, nudity, mentions of sex, mentions of recreational drugs (18+ mdni)

word count: 4.4k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

this is one of my favorite chapters of the series :) and it even comes with its own playlist that you can listen to in the second half of the chapter <3

You seated yourselves at the edge of one of the long booths that served as auditorium rows in between Jisung and Minho with Felix on the inside next to strangers. A server approached your table almost immediately with a stack of English menus. Felix ordered a round of sake for all of you before you could tell him to exclude you. You were too distracted by the dancers on stage to react in time. Blinded by tits yet again.

Music began to swell from the speakers as the next number officially started. The dancers started to move to the beat with practiced expertise, some circling poles and others waltzing into the crowd to get closer to the patrons. You watched a couple of the visitors get swept away into private rooms with a reluctant tinge of jealousy. You’d never been to a strip club before, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to see what a private dance entailed. But you also didn’t have the money for that, and you weren’t about to ask your boyfriend’s brother.

You didn’t recognize the song that was playing, but you didn’t care either way. You were far more focused on the dancers than the music that they were dancing to. Felix and Minho were having a conversation next to you, but you tuned it out.

You realized pretty quickly that you were the only woman in the audience, which earned you more attention from the performers than the other patrons. Whether they were genuinely attracted to you or just tired of the sweaty businessmen using the same pickup lines on them week after week, you weren’t sure. But you couldn’t care less.

Three of them approached your table as a server from the bar delivered the sake Felix had ordered. You took a cup and downed it instantly against your better judgment, hoping the liquid courage would live up to its name.

You could feel Minho and Felix looking at you with raised eyebrows as your best friend slash fake boyfriend just smirked from beside you. Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment as one of the women brushed her hand across your shoulders.

“Do you want some cash, baby?” he asked.

You nodded distantly, gulping. Jisung laughed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed you five hundred yen to give to the dancer cozying up to you and leaned back to watch with amusement.

You offered the money to the woman nervously, but she just smiled.

“You can put it here!” she said, pointing to the space where her g-string was resting against her hip.

Your eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Your fingers trembled as you slotted the money into the elastic band, trying not to think about how she was standing above you… topless… with her ass in your face… grinning smugly down at you.

“Th-thank you,” you squeaked out once you’d given her the tip.

“No, thank you,” she responded. “I’m Yui, by the way.”

“Thank you, Yui,” you amended, not even thinking to give her your name in response.

She winked at you before rounding up her other two coworkers and making her way back to the stage. It wasn’t until she was all the way back at the front that she hadn’t so much as looked at the three boys you were with.

You usually had pretty good game when it came to women, but you were striking out horrendously. If it was this easy to fall out of practice with flirting, you wondered how bad you’d be at the end of the trip.

Jisung still looked amused, but you knew he was internally fighting his wingman instincts whilst also fighting the instinct to make fun of you for dropping the ball so fucking hard.

“That was close,” Minho mused in his brother’s direction. “Nearly, lost your girl there.”

Jisung shrugged. “Were we watching the same interaction? She could barely get two words out. I’m not worried.”

You glared at him, but he ignored you.

“The only reason y/n is dating me is because her brain short circuits every time she looks at a pretty girl. Right, babe?”

“That’s not fair,” you scoffed.

“I mean, you are dating me, aren’t you.”

“I can flirt with girls! She was just flirting with me for work and I didn’t want to be creepy.” you reasoned.

“Then how come she didn’t flirt with any of us?” Felix asked.

“Uh-”

“She’s in denial, mates, let her have this,” Jisung said softly.

The other two Hans shut up at that, but you could still tell that they were judging you as they sipped their drinks. You were pretty sure they spent the night watching you watch the dancers instead of actually watching the dancers themselves.

By the time everyone was ready to call it a night, Yui was nowhere to be seen. You figured that she had already clocked out for the night. You frowned as Jisung led you out of the club by the hand, pausing to look around the room one more time. Even if you couldn’t do anything with her because you were “with” Jisung, you still wished you could have given her your name. Maybe you could’ve gotten her Instagram.

It was the second time your faux relationship had cockblocked you on this trip, but if it wasn’t for your faux relationship you wouldn’t be on this trip in the first place. You were caught in somewhat of a catch 22.

Jisung had to keep an arm wrapped around you as you walked together to keep you steady. Despite your resolve not to drink, you’d had four or five glasses of sake throughout the course of the night, and were effectively tipsy. You gave yourself a pass since you weren’t alone with Minho this time, but you were still trying to sober up as quickly as possible.

“Watch it,” your best friend warned as you attempted to balance yourself on the curb of the road. You were still holding his hand, but leaning towards traffic a bit too far for his liking. “I will not have you getting run over in a foreign country. Your mum would kill me.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you shouted. “You’re not worried about losing the love of your life?”

“Your mother is a very intimidating woman when she’s angry!” he cried defensively.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Minho yelled, rolling his eyes at the PDA. “Cab’s here! Come on, or we’re leaving you here.”

“We’re coming, we’re coming!” Jisung called back and tugged you off the curb.

Naturally, you stumbled, but he caught you easily, bracing your body against his own.

“Come on, silly,” he said, snaking an arm around your waist.

He helped you into the backseat of the car and made sure you fastened your seatbelt. The taxi this time was a minivan so you didn’t have to be squished in between the twins, much to your relief. Your head was already pounding and you needed the space to yourself.

Felix and Minho settled into the middle seats of the van and shut the door behind them. Minho gave the driver the address of the hotel before turning to you and Jisung in the back.

“What a night, right?” he chuckled awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But not a word of this to mum and dad.”

Jisung fell asleep on the ride back, and it was you this time who was shaking him awake as soon as the car came to a stop in front of your hotel.

“We’re here,” you whispered.

He rubbed his eyes with his fists and stretched, giving his brothers a moment to get out of the car first before pushing the seat forward so that you both could climb out from the back. He led you through the lobby with a hand on the small of your back. You were still pretty tipsy from the sake, and he didn’t want to risk you tripping and falling.

You said goodnight to Minho and Felix in the elevator and parted ways for the night in the hallway. As soon as the door was shut behind you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief.

When you had checked in earlier you had barely any time to rest before going to the onsen. You had been running around nonstop all day and you were exhausted. You had another flight to catch tomorrow morning too, and you didn’t even want to think about how early you were going to have to get up for that. At least you’d sleep well tonight. You knew you would be able to rest for real, without the quiet anxiety of maintaining your performance as a couple in front of Jisung’s brothers looming in the background.

“Should we have sex tonight?” Jisung asked suddenly, flopping onto the bed next to you.

“What?”

“You know,” he nodded in the direction of his brother’s room.

You considered it for a moment. “Nah,” you decided. “I don’t want to put them through that again. It’s been a long day, and they’d probably think I’m fantasizing about that dancer while I’m riding you anyway.”

Jisung snorted. “I wouldn’t blame you. She was hot.”

“Wasn’t she?” you gasped, sitting up. “Do you think she was actually into me?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t she have been?”

“It’s literally her job to seduce people.”

“Right. Guess we’ll never know then.”

“Jisung!” you whined.

“I’m just being realistic!”

“Well it’s bumming me out!”

“They’re open until four, we could go back. Figure out if you ”

The idea tempted you, but you brushed it off. If you had been maybe two years younger you would have given into your impulse without a second thought, but you weren’t as limber, weren’t as energetic as you used to be. Second winds didn’t come as easily to you anymore, not at your twenty-something years of age, not with your lower back pain and almost nonexistent hangover tolerance. You used to be able to go out bar hopping on back to back nights, and then show up for your eleven am class the next morning like nothing had happened. You weren’t even halfway to fifty and you felt like your body was giving up on you.

“No, we need to rest,” you insisted. “We have another flight to catch tomorrow.”

“You’re just afraid to get curved, aren’t you?”

“Maybe ignorance is bliss, ok? Maybe I want to live in a daydream world where I can believe she actually thought I was cute.”

“Fair enough.”

You pushed yourself off the bed and managed to stay balanced as you got to your feet.

“I’m going to shower,” you announced, words slurred.

Jisung nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ve got next.”

Everything in the Tokyo hotel room was exactly as you’d left it. You couldn’t imagine being wealthy enough to pay for a hotel room that you weren’t even staying in for a night, but you also knew that an expense like that wouldn’t even make a dent in a HYBE check.

Once you made it back, the plan for the rest of the day was to rest. Since the Hans were taking a full-day excursion to Mt. Fuji the following morning, they advised their sons to take advantage of the down time you had that afternoon.

“The last thing we want is for anyone to get sick,” Dom had said as he briefed you and the boys on the plans for the evening. You were standing in the hotel lobby, blocking the pathway to the elevators. Luckily no one was around to be inconvenienced by your group, but it still stressed you out. “You’re on your own for dinner. Let us know if you need any money.”

“What do you want to do?” Jisung asked as soon as his father was out of earshot.

“What is there to do?”

“So much.” He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you hungry? We could eat. Or we could nap if you’re tired.”

“I won’t get any sleep,” you reasoned, eyes flitting over to where his brothers were caught up in their own conversation.

“Okay, scratch the naps. Do you want to eat? Drink? It’s only noon, but it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

You chuckled, but shook your head. “I don’t think I should be drinking, at least not this early. Are there any galleries nearby? We can do that thing we used to do back home- minus the ‘being high’ part.”

“Pretty sure that’s a felony here,” Jisung agreed.

“I don’t even know where we’d get a joint either. It’s not like we can go around asking for a dealer- we don’t even speak Japanese.”

“You’d definitely get us thrown in jail.”

“Okay, well, are there galleries nearby or not? It won’t be as fun, but we could still kill some time.”

“Should we ask my brothers to join us?”

“Can it just be us two?” you asked, feeling a little guilty about not wanting them to tag along.

Jisung smiled and nodded. “Definitely. C’mon, let’s go.”

Sharing a pair of earbuds was a lot more intimate than you remembered it being. To be fair, when you’d done this in the past you had been blasted out of your mind, and you had been sharing Jisung’s AirPods, not an actual pair of wired earbuds.

But Jisung’s AirPods were dead and yours were in your backpack in the hotel room so you made do. You’d stopped in a convenience store to pick up the cheapest pair you could find, and then walked a couple more blocks to a place called teamLab Borderless, an art gallery Jisung had found on Google Maps.

No one gave you a second glance as you and Jisung navigated the queue up to the ticket booth, tethered together on a wire. Jisung paid the entrance fee and grabbed a map from the stand before leading you through the entrance into the main exhibits.

You were immediately overtaken by darkness, and had to squint to see a foot in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him beside you.

“I’m fine, you?”

“Peachy.”

You giggled, but didn’t say anything else, content to stand exactly where you were until your eyes adjusted. Not for the first time that day you felt in the way, like you were blocking something. But luckily, there didn’t seem to be many other visitors in the gallery.

You blinked a couple of times before realizing you were standing in a hallway. There were illuminated signs above each pathway, and light seemed to be seeping through some of the exhibits, projections mixing together and tapering off at random in the main hall where you were.

“This isn’t a normal art gallery, is it?” you whispered.

Jisung shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

You walked together into the first opening on the right and were greeted by an explosion of color. The darkness evaporated into the background as bright images were projected onto every surface in the room. The walls, the floor, the ceiling were all being used as the canvas for the projections. It was abstract, shapes and lines spilling from one wall to the next with no sense of direction. In the middle of the room, the floor sloped upwards into an uneven hill where other guests were sitting and admiring the exhibit together.

“So it’s like digital art,” you said to no one in particular.

“Looks like it.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of these.”

“Then it’s your lucky day,” Jisung mumbled back.

You glanced over at him and couldn’t help but grin. He was still taking it all in, mesmerized by the colors and special effects.

“Should we start?” you asked, holding up the cord to the earbuds.

He nodded. “Wanna sit on the hill?”

He offered you his arm and you took it, looping your own through it and following him over to the elevated part of the room. You found a little nook to sit in and settled there. Jisung slipped off his backpack and put it next to him, leaning back on his elbows to look up at the ceiling.

“Ladies first,” he said, nodding at his phone sitting on his lap.

You took it and unlocked it with your Face ID. The only time Jisung had ever locked you out of his phone was when he started sleeping with your lab partner and he didn’t want you to find out. You did find out, but only because he’s a shitty liar when it comes to you, and locking you out of his phone was even more suspicious than his weird behavior.

You scrolled to the Spotify app and opened it, navigating to the search page. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard hesitantly. This was a lot easier when you were high. And it was a lot easier when you were looking at a picture in a frame on a wall. You’d think finding a song that represented a piece of art would be simple when you were physically in the middle of said art, but you were blanking.

“No Mitski,” Jisung whined when he saw you typing in the familiar name. “You always pick Mitski.”

“Wha- fine then. No The Band CAMINO”

Your best friend’s jaw dropped like you had just stabbed him in the heart. “You get one Mitski song, and I get one The Band CAMINO song.”

“Deal.”

He sighed. “Play what you were gonna play.”

“No, I’ll find something else. If I only have one Mitski song I’m going to save it for something good.” Jisung rolled his eyes. “What? It’s not my fault she has a song that perfectly encapsulates every human emotion.”

“I thought you said that was Taylor Swift.”

“Her too.”

You racked your brain trying to think of a song that matched the feeling the art exhibit gave you, but you still came up short. It was hard to put into words, you decided as the colors swirled around you.

“Take your time,” Jisung said suddenly. He must’ve been able to sense that you were stressing over your decision, not that it would be hard to tell when you were tapping your foot anxiously against the floor and fretting at your thumbnail with your teeth. “This is supposed to be fun,” he reminded you.

You sat up a little straighter and nodded. He’s right, you agreed. If you couldn’t put the feeling into words yourself, then you’d pick a song that you couldn’t understand and let the music translate the sentiment for you.

“K-pop?” Jisung asked, cocking his head to the side.

“No, this is a Japanese song,” you chided. “Just shut up and listen.”

The next exhibit you visited was a room full of lanterns. They hung at different heights to give off the illusion that they were actually floating, and the lights inside flickered as if they were real candles. The lanterns changed colors at random, slowly fading in between soft pinks and blues and purples. The walls and the floor were made of mirrors, making it look like the room went on forever.

“I have the perfect song,” Jisung exclaimed, yanking the phone from your hands.

You hadn’t even found a spot to sit yet, but he was already typing in the title.

“It’s kinda on the nose, but…” he trailed off and let the song speak for him.

You recognized the tune immediately. I See the Light from Tangled began streaming through the headphones and you felt yourself tear up instantly. You didn’t know why you were crying. You couldn’t explain it if you tried, but you let the feeling consume you.

You could picture the scene perfectly, hundreds of thousands of lanterns drifting into the distance, their glow just as bright in the reflection on the water… you didn’t think you would ever experience anything remotely as ethereal as that scene, but this felt as close as anyone could get in this lifetime.

The inherent romanticism of the song was not lost on you, but you were happy to share the moment with your best friend. You couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else anyway.

You looked over at Jisung and saw tears shining in his eyes too. Tangled always had that effect on you both.

The next exhibit was a room full of lily pads. The stems extended above your heads, making you feel like you were at the bottom of a lake. Silhouettes of fish swam on the ceiling, making ripples beneath the petals of the lily pads. Trapped underneath the surface, like you.

You took a deep breath even though you knew you weren’t actually submerged in water and took a timid step forward.

You spent the entire afternoon in the Borderless Museum. It was well into the evening when you finally stumbled out onto the street again, squinting even though the sun was setting. The daylight was still a harsh contrast from the pitch black museum.

You had kept your promise and only played one Mitski song. It was an exhibit that mimicked a planetarium, but instead of stars and planets the sky was full of butterflies. You laid next to Jisung on the ground, that was actually a net suspended a few feet in the air and watched them flutter around, forming constellations as the projections orbited the room.

“It’s a good thing we weren’t stoned,” Jisung chuckled.

“I think I would have had a mental breakdown,” you said, shaking your head as you imagined how you would have reacted to all the colors and lights if you had been under the influence.

“It would’ve been so obvious.”

“Would’ve been an experience, that’s for sure.”

“You can say that again.”

You took a deep breath of fresh air and looked around. It was nearing rush hour and traffic was beginning to pick up as corporate Tokyo wound down for the day. Shops on the ground level were closing up while nightclubs were preparing to open.

“What now?” you asked. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“We could grab some food and then head back and go to bed early.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“Should we invite your brothers? I feel bad for ditching them earlier.”

“I don’t,” Jisung replied bluntly. “They’re big boys, they can figure out how to entertain themselves for an afternoon.”

“You know what I meant,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, and I love them, but I also love you, and I know that it’s not easy for you to always be around them. I missed having you to myself anyway.”

You bumped his shoulder playfully as he pulled out his phone to text Felix and Minho.

“Getting soft on me, Han?”

“Never.”

Minho and Felix beat you to the restaurant. They were in walking distance whereas you and Jisung had to take the metro to get there. You’d picked a sushi restaurant near the hotel because you were insistent on Jisung ordering whatever he wanted without you to hinder him. The menu had plenty of non-seafood options for you to choose from too so finding something to eat wouldn’t be an issue.

You found Jisung’s brothers seated on one side of a booth, leaving the other open for the two of you.

“We already ordered,” Felix explained sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” you said easily while Jisung rolled his eyes next to you. You grabbed his thigh and squeezed gently as a warning. “It’s fine.”

“What did you guys do today?” Minho asked, changing the subject.

“We went to this digital art museum,” you answered. “It was probably one of my favorite things we’ve done on this trip. We thought we were just going to a regular art gallery, but it was a whole experience! We did this thing we used to do back home, er- back at school. We used to get really stoned and take the bus to different art galleries and exhibitions and then we’d play a game where we took turns picking songs that matched a specific artwork’s vibe.”

“You smoke?” Felix asked his twin in disbelief, ignoring the rest of your story.

Fuck.

You had already accidentally mentioned that fact to Minho a few weeks ago back in London, but you’d forgotten that Fleix still didn’t know. You gave a sideways glance to your best friend, hoping he wasn’t mad. He gave you an indifferent shrug and you relaxed the tiniest bit.

“Occasionally,” Jisung said casually.

“Sorry,” you apologized.

“Don’t be, it’s not like it’s a secret.”

“I know, but still.”

“It’s fine, baby,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I promise.”

“I do that too,” Minho piped up.

“Smoke?”

Your best friend’s brother laughed. “Yes, but that’s not what I meant. I meant that sometimes I get so excited when I’m telling a story that I say things I’m not supposed to say.”

“He quite literally has a reputation for it,” Felix added. “The entire K-pop industry turned it into a whole bit.”

You pursed your lips. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve never heard a single K-pop song,” Minho scoffed.

“It’s the whole reason we’re dating,” Jisung murmured smugly and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Thanks, Ji, I love you too,” you grumbled.

“You’re super hot too, but that’s just a bonus.”

You narrowed your eyes at his brother across the table. “And they say romance is dead.”

Minho scrunched his eyebrows together and opened his mouth like he was going to ask a question, but was interrupted by the server reapproaching your table to take you and Jisung’s orders since you had just recently arrived.

You still let Jisung relay your order for you even though you were eating separate meals. He knew marginally more Japanese than you, and he was far more direct, always making a point to mention your food allergy. You almost never said anything about it even though it was dangerous to your health. You just hated being high-maintenance.

The server traded your menus for glasses of water and promised to be back soon with everyone’s food.

“Something on your mind, Min?” Jisung asked a moment later, noticing the way he was looking at you both.

But to your surprise, he shook his head. “Nothing, why?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

iou tags: @sluttywoozi @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtoooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu @hbzzzbork000 @mimzibee @sofiaslayed @kangyounghyunhands @lexxxxs-things

add yourself to my taglist here!

#instead of you skz #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids series #lee know x reader #lino x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #lee minho x reader #minho x reader

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sharkgirldick · 7 months

Note

Hi, sorry! just trying to reach out for help if it’s okay! My cat is in need of urgent care so I’m trying to raise some funds for his upcoming vet care visit, I made a post about it and I pinned it on my blog, hoping that you’d be so kind to help me spread the word, please as every bit of help can get him one step closer to relief. I would truly appreciate it and i pray that all goes well on your end, too! stay safe! By the way, if its possible, try to answer this ask in private or mesage me if fine, reason is that, people might think I "pressured" you to do so, as some people can be weird about these things. Sorry again for being direct. 🥹🙏

You are now a learning tool.

This ask is a scam. How can I be sure?

1) I've never interacted with this person, nor have they interacted with me.

2) Requesting that I don't post this ask. This makes me reblogging the fake donation post seem like it was my choice instead of being asked to do so.

3) Their oldest reblog is from ~1 hour ago at the time of posting this.

4) The only original post this blog has made is the donation post.

Not every donation post you see is a scam, but know what to look for before sending your money to anyone.

#text post #ask #scam alert

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nappingpaperclip · 1 month

Text

“People who tell you not to vote Biden are psyops trying to steal left votes” type posts are pro-government propoganda.

Last time y’all spread that bullshit around the blogs getting deleted for being “Russian spies” were black leftists.

NOT EVERYONE WHO DISAGREES WITH YOU IS A PSYOP. Get real!!

Not everyone who criticizes Biden or says they won’t be voting for a genocider and that you shouldn’t either wants you to vote for Trump or not vote!! Third party candidates exist!!! Write ins exist!!! If we actually organized instead of y’all pulling the “lesser evil” bs about a GENOCIDAL RACIST RAPIST OLD MAN we might actually see some fuckin progress!!

Did y’all forget Biden is a rapist?????

Btw is the “left” in the room with us? Where is the left? Where is the progress y’all keep claiming Biden is making?

Last time I checked Biden has not let those kids out of cages, has personally approved more huge pipelines that run through Indigenous lands and speed up climate change, has ex-BlackRock leaders (yknow, the top 10 climate change villains company who also funds most American private prisons as well as funding arms manufacturing companies, who spend millions lobbying politicians on environmental regulations, immigration and drug policy) in his cabinet, increased police and military budget, didn’t codify Roe v Wade, in fact he held it hostage for votes, hasn’t codified gay marriage or trans rights, hasn’t legalized marijuana, hasn’t raised the federal minimum wage, oh and also is DOING GENOCIDE in case y’all forgot or wanna tiptoe around the “some bad policies” y’all always talk about

Did y’all forget about his “nothing will fundamentally change” policy?

Y’all heard that and thought “left”?? Babes he’s a right leaning centrist AT BEST.

There are actually left candidates btw! Ones who care about things like Landback and reparations and free healthcare and education and sustainability! The ones y’all are telling people are throwaway votes/votes for Trump!! (Which isn’t even how the electoral college works btw)

So us telling y’all not to vote for a genocider makes us Russian psyop spies but y’all telling us not to vote for leftist third party candidates doesn’t? K.

Vote for who you want, I don’t give a fuck anymore, BUT DONT TELL HIM HE STILL HAS YOUR UNCONDITIONAL SUPPORT WHILE HES COMMITTING GENOCIDE IF YOU ACTUALLY WANT HIM TO STOP

The only way to get a politician to stop doing WAR CRIMES is to tell them you won’t vote for them or give them money or otherwise support them until they stop!

You can fucking lie if you want!!! All we’re asking is for y’all not to publicly announce Genocide Joe still has your unconditional support WHILE HES DOING GENOCIDE

His approval ratings are literally less than Trumps!

He has no one to blame but himself.

If he loses in November, I don’t want to hear y’all bitch and moan and blame black people or disillusioned voters or third party voters or “Russian spies” again like y’all did in 2016, I don’t want to see y’all blame anyone but him, BLAME BIDEN FOR HIS OWN ACTIONS. HE IS A GROWN MAN AND HAS THE MONEY AND POWER TO STOP IT IF HE ACTUALLY WANTED TO.

Y’all keep saying he’s doing his best to stop it, that he’s working behind the scenes, that he’s trying, IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE STILL SENDING ISRAEL MONEY?

IF HE IS TRYING, WHY DID HE SEND ISRAEL MILLIONS OF DOLLARS IN SMALL PAYMENTS TO AVOID NOTIFYING CONGRESS?

IF HES TRYING WHY HAVE WE NOT SANCTIONED ISRAEL?

IF HES TRYING, WHY HAVE US SOLDIERS BEEN SEEN FIGHTING ALONGSIDE THE IDF?

IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE SENDING EXPIRED MREs AS AID? EXPIRED FOOD DROPS THAT ARE NOT ENOUGH TO FEED MILLIONS OF STARVING PEOPLE, WITH FAULTY PARACHUTES THAT KILL CHILDREN?

IF HES TRYING, WHY DID WE BUILD A PORT CUTTING THE GAZA STRIP IN HALF, A PORT THAT NETANYAHU SAID WOULD BE USED TO DEPORT PALESTINIANS?

IF HES TRYING WHY DID HE SIGN OFF $14 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS ON TOP OF THE ANNUAL CONTRACT AND SMALL SECRET PAYMENTS TO GO TOWARDS ISRAELS BOMBS AND GUNS AND FREE HEALTHCARE WHILE IGNORING THE PEOPLE HERE WHO NEED FOOD, HOUSES, AND HEALTHCARE???

DONT MAKE UP RUSSIAN SPIES TO POINT FINGERS AT! IF HE DOESNT WANT TO LOSE HE SHOULDNT DO GENOCIDE

IF GENOCIDE JOE LOSES THE ELECTION FUCKING BLAME HIM FOR DOING A GENOCIDE!!

#FUCK YALL FR #racist white liberals are no fucking better than the alt right. YALL WOULDNT PISS ON ME IF I WAS ON FIRE!!!#‘what about trans people’ WHAT ABOUT MY TRANS SISTER WHOS HOMELESS? WHAT ABOUT MY TRANS FRIENDS IN FLORIDA LOSING THEIR RIGHTS???#YEA CAUSE THINGS HAVE BEEN GOING SOOO WELL FOR TRANS PEOPLE! tell me you live in fucking California or New York without telling me!!!#ATP JUST SAY YOU DONT FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE GENOCIDE CAUSE IT DOESNT EFFECT YOU CAUSE WE ALL KNOW THATS WHAT YALL MEAN!!!!#.txt #Joe Biden #us politics #genocide Joe #Palestine #free Palestine #vote blue #vote blue no matter who

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abbyshands · 2 months

Note

Hi kit, do you know how to tell if a person sending asks saying they need donations for their family in gaza, is fake?

Cuz someone sent me an ask and I’ve reblogged it but I was going through the comments and there a several blocked and one of them says that the op is scamming people.

I know there are ppl like this that are that horrible, but I wonder if you know how tell them apart ? Or if anyone knows for that matter. Cuz I don’t want to mislead people and give them the wrong information or anything.

hi, honey! this is gonna be all over the place but. i've had this very thing happen to me before as well, maybe three or so asks just like the one you received. i did fall for the first one, but once you see them over and over again, i think it can get easier to tell when it's a scam. one thing to note is when the actual account began to post. i notice a lot of these accounts began to post in recent days or weeks. at the time that i donated to the first person who sent me an ask like this, it was february, and they began to post around mid january. the next tell is one i see a lot, where they'll reblog a bunch of things about palestine, but they will all be in a matter of hours, days, etc. usually never weeks (and also, you'll see that they randomly begin to reblog in very recent days. ex. all their reblogs are from three days ago and onward). one more thing: look at their posts (not their reblogs. their actual posts), and check if it says "some replies may have been blocked, deleted, removed, etc). absolutely, 100% not a good sign. chances are, replies are being removed by the op because they're getting called out for scamming.

the structure of the actual ask is also a dead giveaway. if it ends in "my goal is x amount of money," usually somewhere in the hundreds or thousands, not a good sign. if they are asking you to respond to their ask PRIVATELY, not a good sign. if you copy part of their ask and paste it into tumblr or do an internet search, and you see it elsewhere, not a good sign! these blogs will go around copying the same message into people's inboxes. chances are, someone else on tumblr has posted about the very person who sent you the ask, OR, you will find it somewhere else on the internet, etc a gofundme (which, by the way, is where most of these scammers obtain their story or pictures. they'll find it in gofundmes as i said, articles, etc). before you engage, copy the username of the person who sent you the ask, and paste it into the tumblr search bar. this is how i found out that the first person who sent an ask like this to me was a scammer.

this post here (which i absolutely implore you to read, as it captures what i want to say here much better than i'm doing so right now) explains why there is an abundance of people on tumblr sending asks like this in people's inboxes. for one thing, they target popular tags (ex. literally, the "palestine" or "gaza" tags, or any tag that may be trending at the time), or, they go for blogs who are consistently reblogging and/or uploading content related to the genocide. why? because they're taking advantage of the fact that you want to make a change in regards to what's going on. and if that's the case, what would stop you from donating to someone "in need," right?

if you want my honest opinion, if someone is sending you an ask about this on tumblr at all, it's likely not real. to put it into perspective: people who are really in gaza and want to escape, raise money, etc, will go to big network places such as gofundme, because there are better chances of them raising actual money in general, but in a short period of time. as opposed to asking people individually, their cause will be more widespread, and more people will see it. not only that: places like gofundme are pros at figuring out what's a scam and what's not. op in the above post noted this, and how places like gofundme will remove causes that are clearly scams. that's why scammers avoid places like this at all, and go to places like tumblr, where it isn't so easy for the actual site to remove their post. it's only when people on the app pick up on it, that scammers' facades fall. does that make sense?

i feel like this sort of jumped around, but i hope i was able to clarify what you were asking anyway. if someone feels the need to add onto this, please do, and if i need to clarify any point i made, etc, please let me know! ♡

#kitlyn’s anons ♡#free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza #free palestine 🇵🇸#palestine genocide #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #gaza strip #scam #scam alert #from the river to the sea #gaza genocide

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steampoweredwerehog · 1 month

Note

Hello everyone, my name is George and I'm a transgender man. I'm reaching out to share a bit of my journey with you all. I'm currently seeking access to private endocrinology consultations to begin hormone therapy as part of my transition. Unfortunately, these consultations come with a significant cost that I'm unable to cover on my own. That's why I'm launching this campaign. I'm asking for your help to raise funds to cover the expenses of these initial consultations. Any contribution, no matter how small, would mean the world to me! Thank you so much for your support.

So not only are the inbox scammers pretending to be Palestinians, but they’re also pretending to be trans people too. Cool. Cool cool cool.

Get bent

PSA: be wary of big long asks in your inbox asking for money. The blogs are usually freshly made & only have a few generic popular posts to make them look real. Block ‘em or report and move on

#Asks #Scams

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mangocheesecakes · 8 months

Text

I have found a connection between Laura Deramas and the scammer amongsts/amongstss who was recently discovered and since been taken down. I have very good reason to believe that amongstss was either Laura herself, or someone working closely with Laura.

(Please bear with me as this is going to be a very long post. I don't know how to make it shorter.)

So first off, in the "speaking up" video Laura posted recently, while she admits that she "made a mistake", Laura claims that she made the video to "speak up about what I and user neeches "have been doing to her while she's not on Tumblr". Specifically, she is angry about how we've connected her with another now-deactivated scammer, sheeyancjoje. Laura is adamant and insists that she has not come back to Tumblr since I called her out, and so she wants us to stop "blaming her for all the scams that's happening here". Now Laura's acting may be FAMAS-worthy, but I maintain that the evidence I found about her and sheeyanc is solid and undeniable, and later I will also explain why this is so in a separate post. But for now, let's talk about amongsts.

Amongsts/amongstss was a scammer who recently got taken down by tumblr, and who was pretending to be a "Black Transwoman living in Andorra" trying to raise money for "rent support". The post they made was copied word-for-word from an actual fundraiser on Facebook with the only change being the person's first name. Here is the original post and my reblog with the callout and link to the legitimate fundraiser. After posting this, amongsts began sending me irate messages and insults through dm.

Now amongsts wanted their donors to only use "wire transfer or paypal" when donating. They also did not put the actual link anywhere on the post itself. When asked about this by other users, amongsts claimed that she prefers sending her paypal info through dm because of the spam emails she had been receiving lately:

Now someone had unfortunately already donated to amongsts before I was able to call them out, but I proceeded to send warning asks to those who reblogged the scam posts all the same. One of the users I messaged responded to me, and it turned out they were one of the people who had donated to amongsts. Because I thought it might be relevant for keeping track of the scammers on here I asked them if they could share to me the Paypal address that amongsts gave to them in private when they donated. This user very kindly got back to me and gave me the screenshot they took of the scammer's paypal name and gmail.

The name on the paypal was one "Joan Malubay", while the gmail address was written as [email protected]

Here is a screenshot of my conversation with this user, with their blog and name redacted for privacy:

Going back to Laura and her "speaking-up" video. Laura keeps mentioning a certain JES SA, who she says is her friend and neighbor, and who according to her "made a tumblr" the night before and saw "all of the posts that I and neeches have been making about her". This JES SA then presumably alerted her about this, which is how she found out and why she was back again. Laura was also pretty insistent that I talk to this JES SA on Facebook, kind of similar to how she kept asking me to contact her mother back when she was still pretending to be dead:

Checking up on Laura's Facebook profile after all of this went down, I saw that she had made a couple of status updates about being "stressed" and "going through a lot lately". Sure enough, among those who sad-reacted to her posts was a user named Jes Sa. This Jes Sa also commented a happy birthday greeting on Laura's post during her son's birthday 4 weeks ago:

I also clearly remember seeing this user on Laura's old profile before, though I had no screenshots of her at that time and didn't really take note of her. Curiously, Jes Sa already had her profile locked when last I checked it, so I couldn't take a screenshot and had to take a photo using another phone.

So instead, I tried another route and typed "jes sa" on the search tab to see what comes up...and what do you know, the name "Malubay Jo an" was one of the first results.

This Malubay Jo an names Jes Sa as her sister in this pic (Bry Lle seems to be Jes Sa's former name on FB) as well as a "Dawn Syrelle Mozo" as her pamangkin/niece. Upon further digging, I've found that Jes Sa is Joan Malubay's sister, is married to a certain "Manuel (Nano) Mozo" and has at least two daughters, "Dawn Syrelle Mozo" and "Anne Janelle Mozo". On my screenshot of Jes Sa's birthday greeting above, Dawn Syrelle also greets Laura's son a happy birthday.

And so here is now the connection between Laura Deramas and the scammer amongstss:

amongstss was using the Paypal account of Joan Malubay with the gmail [email protected].

Malubay Jo an on Facebook who lives in Davao City has two nieces with names that fit the gmail handle being used by amongstss. Malubay Jo an is also the sister of Jes Sa, the person Laura said is her "friend and neighbor", and who apparently is also here on tumblr.

Given this discovery, I can say that amongsts was probably being run by either Laura herself, or by her friend/s Joan and Jes Sa, or even more likely, they were all in it together.

And Laura's claims that she is not connected to any other scammers on here is another one of her many many lies.

#donation scam #laura mae deramas #laura deramas #Jessa Mozo #Joan Malubay #Manuel Mozo #amongstss #amongsts #Other Laura Scams

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explodingfurby · 4 months

Note

Hi! Im really sorry for coming across like this and i hope im not stepping out any boundary, just in need of dire help right now as my cat needs some emergency treatment and im on financial bind. Im trying to raise some funds for him and I’m hoping that you’d be so kind to help us even by just spreading the word out. I made a post about it on my blog and pinned it, i know times are tough right now for and its a few days before Christmas, just wanted to atleast get the care he needs before its too late. I feel so bad 😭 i hope you would consider, also pls if maybe answer the ask privately or send me a message instead? its just that people sometimes tend to get weird on these things. 🙏😭 merry christmas in advance 🙏

DO NOT FALL FOR THIS, THIS IS A SCAM!!!!!!!!!!

If you get a random ask which wants you to pay money for someone's pet, it's probably a scam.

I looked at tundrakuppa's blog, and every single post on there was from 4 days ago. I scrolled down to the bottom and it was all from 4 days ago.

Also, the image of the cat in the pinned post isn't even theirs. I reverse image searched it and it comes from a post by elaborateschemer.

And it's not even a few days before Christmas, I literally just got this ask today.

#scams

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blazehedgehog · 3 months

Text

Putting this out there for y'all but I'm 99% sure this is a scam.

I'm wary about this kind of stuff since I've heard people run scams like this. Generally I don't blog about this kind of stuff, but if you follow me on Cohost or Twitter, you know I will sometimes retweet people in need -- but I never do it at random, I always try to make sure it is coming from someone I marginally trust or even know personally. Never strangers.

So when a "stranger" approaches me in my tumblr ask box, immediately I go about investigating.

This user's blog passes the first sniff test: a seemingly "real" avatar (not a default shape, not a stolen selfie), there's an actual blog description, and they even have some likes.

Red flag number one: This blog has only made six posts. I have post timestamps turned on, so I can see that all six posts were made on January 31st of this year. Nothing before that date, and nothing after that date.

Red flag number two: Five of those six posts are reblogs (generic animal memes). The only original blog is the pinned post about the supposed cat. No other pictures of the cat, no other pictures of the daughter, no other posts about lifestyle or interests in any shape or form.

Red flag number three: Though the blog has some likes, they only have seven likes, five of which are also the things they reblogged. One of which is someone publicly boosting their message about the supposed cat.

Red flag number four: Tumblr lets you view a blog's following list, so you can see who they follow. This user is following at least two obvious spambots (empty blog, default shape avatar).

Red flag number five: They don't even follow me. How did they find my blog? On what grounds do they think I'd be a good fit to boost their message? I do not signal boost charity on tumblr very often, as stated.

Red flag number six: Their pinned post mentions they "have a paypal" but they're gathering money through some obscure crowdfunding platform I've never heard of ("because gofundme takes too much money out.") I haven't clicked their link, but I did google the site name, and it's some sort of social media profile card service (like linktree) that also lets you raise money. The service lists high profile clients, most of which may as well be fake clip art images for all I know, outside of the Comedy Central logo. Not super trustworthy.

Red flag number seven: "Try to answer this ask privately." Why? Because it's obvious this is all super suspicious?

Nobody wants to be heartless, which is exactly what this message is built to prey upon. If this person's cat is real, my heart truly goes out to it, because I've lost many pets over the years. Some of which had their health decline so rapidly they literally died in my arms as we were rushing to the vet emergency room. I've been more emotionally wrecked by some pet deaths than people I knew.

So I don't want to inflict that on anyone.

But the red flags are overwhelming. This person is not to be trusted. Be on your guard with what you share, folks.

#scam #scammer #scam alert #donation scam #psa

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Private equity finally delivered Sarah Palin's death panels

Tonight (Apr 26), I’ll be in Burbank, signing Red Team Blues at Dark Delicacies at 6PM.

Remember “death panels”? Sarah Palin promised us that universal healthcare was a prelude to a Stalinist nightmare in which unaccountable bureaucrats decided who lived or died based on a cost-benefit analysis of what it would cost to keep you alive versus how much your life was worth.

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/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS

Palin was right that any kind of healthcare rationing runs the risk of this kind of calculus, where we weight spending $10,000 to extend a young, healthy person’s life by 40 years against $1,000 to extend an elderly, disabled person’s life by a mere two years.

It’s a ghastly, nightmarish prospect — as anyone who uses the private healthcare system knows very well. More than 27m Americans have no health insurance, and millions more have been tricked into buying scam “cost-sharing” systems run by evangelical grifters:

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/02/health/christian-health-care-insurance.html

But for the millions of Americans with insurance, death panels are an everyday occurrence, or at least a lurking concern. Anyone who pays attention knows that insurers have entire departments designed to mass-reject legitimate claims and stall patients who demand that the insurer lives up to its claim:

https://kffhealthnews.org/news/article/khn-podcast-an-arm-and-a-leg-how-to-shop-for-health-insurance-november-24-2021/

The private healthcare sector is designed to deny care. Its first duty is to its shareholders, not its patients, and every dollar spent on care is a dollar not available for dividends. The ideal insurance customer pays their premiums without complaint, and then pays cash for all their care on top of it.

All that was true even before private equity started buying up and merging whole swathes of the US healthcare system (or “healthcare” “system”). The PE playbook — slash wages, sell off physical plant, slash wages, reduce quality and raise prices — works in part because of its scale. These aren’t the usual economies of scale. Rather the PE strategy is to buy and merge all the similar businesses in a region, so customers, suppliers and workers have nowhere else to turn.

That’s bad enough when it’s aimed at funeral homes, pet groomers or any of the other sectors that have been bigfooted by PE:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/16/schumpeterian-terrorism/#deliberately-broken

But it’s especially grave when applied to hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/21/profitable-butchers/#looted

Or emergency room physicians:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/14/unhealthy-finances/#steins-law

And if you think that’s a capitalist hellscape nightmare, just imagine how PE deals with dying, elderly people. Yes, PE has transformed the hospice industry, and it’s even worse than you imagine.

Yesterday, the Center for Economic and Policy Research published “Preying on the Dying: Private Equity Gets Rich in Hospice Care,” written by some of the nation’s most valiant PE slayers: Eileen Appelbaum, Rosemary Batt and Emma Curchin:

https://cepr.net/report/preying-on-the-dying-private-equity-gets-rich-in-hospice-care/

Medicare pays private hospices $203-$1,462 per day to take care of dying old people — seniors that a doctor has certified to have less than six months left. That comes to $22.4b/year in public transfers to private hospices. If hospices that $1,462 day-rate, they have lots of duties, like providing eight hours’ worth of home care. But if the hospice is content to take the $203/day rate, they are not required to do anything. Literally. It’s just free money for whatever the operator feels like doing for a dying elderly person, including doing nothing at all.

As Appelbaum told Maureen Tkacik for her excellent writeup in The American Prospect: “Why anybody commits fraud is a mystery to me, because you can make so much money playing within the guidelines the way the payment scheme operates.”

https://prospect.org/health/2023-04-26-born-to-die-hospice-care/

In California, it’s very, very easy to set up a hospice. Pay $3,000, fill in some paperwork (or don’t — no one checks it, ever), and you’re ready to start caring for beloved parents, grandparents, sisters, brothers, aunts and uncles as they depart this world. You do get a site inspection, but don’t worry — you aren’t required to bring your site up to code until after you’re licensed, and again, they never check — not even if there are multiple complaints. After all, no one at the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS) has the job of tracking complaints.

This is absolute catnip for private equity — free government money, no obligations, no enforcement, and the people you harm are literally dying and can’t complain. What’s not to like? No wonder PE companies have spent billions “rolling up” hospices across the country. There are 591 hospices in Van Nuys, CA alone — but at least 30 of them share a single medical director:

https://auditor.ca.gov/reports/2021-123/index.html#pg34A

Medicare caps per-patient dispersals at $32,000, which presents an interesting commercial question for remorseless, paperclip-maximizing, grandparent-devouring private equity ghouls: do you take in sick patients (who cost more, but die sooner) or healthy patients (cost less, potentially live longer)?

In Van Nuys, the strategy is to bring in healthy patients and do nothing. 51% of Van Nuys hospice patients are “live discharged” — that is, they don’t die. This figure — triple the national average — is “a reliable sign of fraud.”

There are so many hospice scams and most of them are so stupid that it takes a monumental failure of oversight not to catch and prevent them. Here’s a goodun: hospices bribe doctors to “admit” patients to a hospice without their knowledge. The hospice bills for the patient, but otherwise has no contact with them. This can go on for a long time, until the patient tries to visit the doctor and discovers that their Medicare has been canceled (you lose your Medicare once you go into hospice).

Another scam: offer patients the loosest narcotics policy in town, promising all the opioids they want. Then, once their benefits expire, let them die of an overdose (don’t worry, people who die in hospice don’t get autopsies):

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2022/12/05/how-hospice-became-a-for-profit-hustle

You can hire con artists to serve as your sales-force, and have them talk vulnerable, elderly people into enrolling in hospice care by convincing them they have nothing to live for and should just die already and not burden their loved ones any longer.

Hospitals and hospices also collude: hospitals can revive dying patients, ignoring their Do Not Resuscitate orders, so they can be transfered to a hospice and die there, saving the hospital from adding another dead patient to their stats.CMS’s solution is perverse: they’re working with Humana to expand Medicare Advantage (a scam that convinces patients to give up Medicare and enrol in a private insurance program, whose private-sector death panel rejects 13% of claims that Medicare would have paid for). The program will pay private companies $32,000 for every patient who agrees to cease care and die. As our friends on the right like to say, “incentives matter.”

Appelbaum and co have a better idea:

Do more enforcement: increase inspections and audits.

Block mergers and rollups of hospices that make them too big to fail and too big to jail.

Close existing loopholes.

They should know. Appelbaum and her co-authors write the best, most incisive analysis of private equity around. For more of their work, check out their proposal for ending pension-plan ripoffs by Wall Street firms:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/05/mego/#A09948

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Burbank, Mountain View, Berkeley, San Francisco, Portland, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: An industrial meat grinder, fed by a conveyor belt. A dead, elderly man is traveling up the conveyor, headed for the grinder's intake. The grinder is labelled 'HOSPICE' in drippy Hallowe'en lettering. It sits in a spreading pool of blood.]

Image: Seydelmann (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:GW300_1.jpghttps://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:GW300_1.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #cepr #medicare advantage #medicare #hospice #aca #aging #death panels #fraud #california #preying on the dying

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yourthirdparent · 4 months

Text

OH MY GOD okay so a beloved follower of mine sent me an ask about my tristan mclean headcanons like in december but i accidentally deleted !!!!!!! the fuckcing ask !!!!!!!!!!!!!! so i'm making it a post. hope you don't mind. also sorry for the wait

most of my thoughts are things i can not share on this blog (this is the Normal blog for Normal things and not the fucked up torture i subject this man to on a regular basis. tbf i hardly post about it on the Bad Posts blog either but like still. can share it on ao3 though check out sleep by imjustheretoreadonefic (don't do that it's not good)) but you can ask about that (if you want, which you probably won't because it is not most people's thing lmao) on my sideblog, yourfourthparent!! BUTBUTBUT i do have some thoughts and headcanons and such that are at the very least decently presentable!!!!

starting off first: i think he's bi! i think he figured out he was bi when he was pretty young (probably somewhere in his teenage years, probably like 15 max) and when he was in his 20s he was very involved in the queer community (his 20s being. in the 80s. sorry.) and was like a big activist. that is until the curse.

the curse being him hitting his big break. stars in some film that wasn't supposed to really blow up but it like Fucking Smashed and suddenly he was like all those guys who do one role and then are suddenly in Everything. cuz he sure is in literally everything. once he starts blowing up ofc he's got folks to help manage his image and at some point they're like haha [lip bite] you gotta stop with that gay shit or straight audiences won't find you marketable. you're already native and folks can hardly handle that let alone you being an active queer activist. you gotta cut that shit out so you can be the next batman or whatever. and tristan's like Well at least i'll make money to support myself and my dying father!

newsflash his father dies of cancer before he gets a chance. tristan's doing his best to avoid thinking about his father's death so he moves out of oklahoma blah blah yk how it goes.

he has piper when he's 33 ! everything's set and he's settled and then piper comes along and like. he's alright. he can handle this. he can be a good father (he's white knuckling the bathroom sink while he says this)

yeah he's terrified of being a shitty father. he does his best to keep her away from the press and keep her Okay for the most part but in order to do that he doesn't get to see her much etc etc. you know. you've read hoo. bleh

when piper starts dating jason he's like Oh cool ! i am about to break down ! cuz like. hey man. he is so not prepared for the reality of The Passage of Time. wdym his daughter is 16. fym tristan's almost fifty. that's so fucked up how is this allowed.

anyways he and jason are like Besties (*shoving my Bad posts to the side*) like they're such good friends they hang out so often even after jason and piper break up they're just Hiding it then. like they have weekly chess meetings and they talk about books and their lives and jason concerns tristan So Much oh my god tristan is so scared for this poor boy What are those tattoos young man Who are these "wolves" that raised you What is this "legion" Are you in a gang Little private school boy are you in a gang. What do you mean your first language is latin.

ngl my obsession with tristan came from my obsession with jason. i made a post like ages ago about how silly it'd be if tristan was jason's gay awakening and i just kept. thinking about them hanging out. and it spiralled and now i'm insane about him sorry. jason will always be my number one but Oohhhhh tristan consumes me.

anyways live tristan reaction when he finds out jason's mom is beryl grace in the middle of showing jason and piper a million old movies (beryl is in one and jason sees her and immediately freezes and tristan's just talking through the movie (hes silly sorry he talks through the whole thing. piper actually likes it because she has a hard time following movies so tristan explaining everything is good but jason is vaguely annoyed by it. he loves tristan to death don't get him wrong it's just that he can't concentrate on the kovie with tristan spitting fun facts a million words a second) when he looks over to see if theyre still watching and he just sees piper fretting over jason who's looking at the screen with a thousand gard stare.

let's go misc things that i want to mention somewhere but don't really fit uhhhh

i have this idea where tristan used to be a drag queen. i don't have any of the details down not a single one but i think about him talking to piper and her friends about the old days when he was a queen. mentions something offhandedly about how he wants to wear more feminine clothing and someone's like "oh are you like. yk. a gamer" and he's like "oh nonono i'm not trans trust me i explored my gender plenty, wore makeup, padded my bra, did drag for a few years, changed my name—" and they're like "you did DRAG ???" and he's like "OH yeah LOLZ i was terrible lol. my team keeps trying to bury it from public view for a reason. those looks were NOT serving !!!!" (he doesn't talk like that but i'm being silly rn)

(you just knoooooow jason was jaw on the floor immediately looking up TRISTAN MCLEAN DRAG TRISTAN MCLEAN DRAG QUEEN PERSONA NAME TRISTAN MCLEAN DRAG QUEEN TRISTAN MCLEAN— the SECONDDDD he got a chance. like staring so hard at old ass pictures of tristan doing drag and realising like Oh maybe i am bi. piper dumped him because she found his search history /j)

i think when his father died he cut his hair but then when it started growing long again it reminded him too much of the past that he Didn’t Want To Think About so he just. kept it short. and it's been short ever since. BUTBUTBUT when piper decides she wants to reconnect with her culture (which she's been mostly separate from because of tristan's own avoidance of it due to memories of his childhood and his father and blahblahblah) it sort of motivates him to do it too. like if piper's gonna do it after tristan entirely cut her from their culture then like. he can too. and it was a big part of his life when he was younger so like. he knows shit. i'm not good at this btw sorry i just have ideas UGSFHADGSF but anyways when piper starts reconnecting he decides to do it too and his first step with like Getting Comfortable again is growing his hair out. it's a smaller step yk he just doesn't cut his hair it's nothing active. (ofc when it starts getting properly long he has a few moments. he has to really confront his grief over his father's death and just the fear of that alone is enough to make him want to cut it again. piper stops him before he does but he has a few moments where he questions if it's worth it)

ik i just said earlier that he's not trans but like sometimes. with characters. i have headcanons that complety contradict each other. that is to say Transfem tristan mclean headcanon. she changes her name to t. just T. t wynn mclean. she goes by t cuz it's something she's already used to (jason called her that all the time before she came out).

these are all the ones i have off the top of my head agh pleaseplease feel free to ask more about any of these !!! (or critique them lmao half of them are. things i suck at explaining because they exist only for hyperspecific scenarios wherein nothing happens but tristan talking to jason or piper LMAO) you can also send in your own headcanons about him or jason or piper because EYE WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT THEM RAAAAGHHH seriously there's so little stuff that features him especially and if you have literally anything at all i would lovelovelove to read it all !!!!!!! sorry for deleting the ask btw i really didn't mean to LMAO sorry to my honourary mutual (i'd tag you but i'm afraid of misremembering who it was LMAO sorry mate 💔💔)

#allfatherly guidance #answered prayers #tristan mclean #tysm to the person who sent the ask btw !!! i love talking lol #sorry it took so long to get this post out lol #btw. take a shot every time i say an expression of laughter #pjo #hoo

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