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aestheticaltcow · 1 month

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The Social Media Manager: The Series (Part 2)

Another installment of the social media manager series

Another shout out to @thebearsoc for the inspiration!

The Moodboard/OG blurb

Part 1 Introductions and Donuts

Meetings, Meetings, Meetings

“Wait, wait, wait-” Richie started rubbing a hand against the back of his head, “You’re tellin’ me, Marcus’s party girl 20-somethin’ year old friend is getting access to our social media? That’s bull, and you know it, Natalie.”

Natalie rolled her eyes and glanced in Marcus’s direction, “Marcus, Rusty has done this before, right?” he nodded before explaining, “Nat, Richie, I’m tellin’ ya’, Rusty is really good at this shit. Just give her a shot.”

Carmy entered the sitting area of The Bear and sat next to Natalie without saying anything, “I don’t think we can afford this, Marcus. I’m sure Rusty is a wonderful social media manager, but the budgets tight.” Natalie sighed, staring at her computer screen.

“That's the thing- you guys have a hookup.” Marcus grinned, hoping that this would be enough of a selling point. “Rusty owes me one. She’d probably do the setup for free, and I can do all the posting. She helped me redo my account when I came back from Cophegan- I went from like 100 followers to like 1,000 in a month.”

Carmy looked around the group before nodding in Marcus’s direction, “Call her.”

Carmy stood up and walked out of the dining area through the kitchen and into the office, where his phone had been plugged in to charge. He quickly opened his phone, went to the seldomly used Instagram app, typed in your handle, and smiled as your account came up. He’d been Instagram stalking you since he’d heard Marcus giving Syd your handle. She’d laughed about it being a reference to a K-pop group he’d never heard of; granted, he’d never really listened to any of those groups. So far, he’d learned that you have an eclectic taste in music, an affinity for putting googly eyes on potted plants, a love for fancy coffees with overpriced pastries, and had, in fact, known Marcus since high school. He liked your style. There was something free about it; he admired your creativity. Carmy took notes about you through the account. Your highlight reels being indicative of your personality, the ‘Rusty cooking??’ highlight reel was particularly traumatizing. He wondered how you’d gotten into your 20s without knowing how to actually chop an onion, but he could show you how to do it properly; just the idea of that made his heart flutter. Carmy was incredibly attracted to you, but when you’d posted a boomerang of you kissing a guy’s cheek and tagged the guy’s account with a heart emoji, he was worried this would be another unrequited crush.

When you walked into The Bear the next day in a pair of trousers with your hair up and a pair of glasses perched on your nose, Carmy felt like his heart was going to explode. He beelined for the bathroom to make sure he didn’t have anything in his teeth and washed his hands in an attempt to get the smell of cigarettes off his hands before going to talk to you.

“So that’s what I would recommend doing for TikTok. The algorithm is tricky, but once you get on its good side, it can be really great publicity.” Carmy swallowed as he listened to you explain your strategy to Natalie and Richie. Natalie seemed impressed, while Richie seemed wary. “This is all really great Rusty. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.” Natalie smiled as she shuffled a pile of documents into a yellow folder. You shrugged and responded with a playful laugh before explaining that work had been slow at the moment, so you had some extra free time to take a peak at the analytics you could see without access to the account details.

After Richie and Natalie said their goodbyes, Richie was still seemingly cold toward hiring a social media manager and you in general. The two of them discussed it as they walked toward the kitchen. Carmy waited until they had walked through the kitchen door before approaching you. If he struck out with you he’d prefer not to do it within earshot of his sister and Richie; he’d never live it down. “Hey.” Carmy greeted awkwardly, rocking on his heels.

You smiled back, “Hey you. Long time no see.” Carmy blushed at your flirtatious tone. “How you doin’ Carmy? Spendin’ a lot of time on Instagram, huh?”

Carmy needed some clarification on the comment. You noticed and giggled before explaining, “You liked a picture on my account from like two years ago.” Carmy tightly grinned out of embarrassment. He hesitantly nodded, “Uh yeah—Marcus recommended you do our social media stuff… I just wanted to check out what you post.”

He hoped he saved himself, but self-doubt was taking over. He watched as you began twirling a strand of hair on your index finger. “It’s okay, Carmy. I think you’re cute, and I’m going out on Friday with a couple of friends… if you happen to show up at this bar across town called The White Rabbit, I might let you buy me a drink.”

Carmy was speechless. He was by no means an experienced dater, and within that limited experience, he’d never had a girl come onto him like this. You noticed his awkwardness and found it endearing. “No pressure. You can also just call me sometime.”

You pulled a Sharpie out of your bag and grabbed Carmy’s wrist to write your number across his forearm, “Bye, Carmy.” you winked before walking past him, making sure he’d get a whiff of your perfume.

“B-bye Rus-sty.” Carmy managed to stutter out as he watched you walk out of the front entrance. He pushed the heel of his hand against his jaw. You were different, and it scared him, but also found it enchanting.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fic #marcus the bear #natalie the bear #richie jerimovich #sydney the bear

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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

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DD Part 9

Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader

Commissioned art by @/ejpuki on Instagram. Please support the artist 🖤

Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word count 2.8k

Part 1 (contains links to all previous parts)

A/N: FINALLYYYY I got myself to work on this. I'm so sorry for the delay..next on the list is The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 3. I think Chapter 10 of DD will be the end then maybe a cute little epilogue but I think it's time to retire this one. 🥺🖤 Idk if anyone is even following this series as closely anymore but it's still my baby lol.

TW: Minors DNI, age gap (Miguel is 34 reader is 26), danger, kidnapping, mild violence, little angst, Tyler is mean and creepy, talks of drowning, mention of abuse, mention of claustrophobia, mention and alludes to sex but no smut

@mysteris-things

@averagefloydlover

@roserfz27

@latenightcravingz

Gloria was gushing on the phone at the sound of her new grandchild a few feet away from your apartment outside when she thought she heard what sounded like her name being screamed. She turned abruptly, waiting for it to repeat but it never did. She did a double take -silence. She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her cooing tone of voice.

Inside your apartment, you slumped backwards into the hands of the tall, curly haired accomplice. Aaron gulped and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow at your unconscious form, removing the laced rag and stuffing it in a Ziploc bag and tearing off his latex gloves with shaky hands.

Tyler exhaled and shot an annoyed look at Aaron. "Something you wanna say?" He snapped at him.

Aaron gave a feeble shake of his head, doing his best not to let his eyes linger on your helpless form.

Tyler nodded. "That's what I thought. But if you are having any second thoughts about this: go ahead and use that damn thing on yourself and join our little friend here..."

He grabs Aaron by the shirt collar. Aaron's eye twitches in fear as the smoke from Tyler's cigar tickles his face. His eyes ping pong between the intense blue of Tyler's irises and your unconscious figure one more time before he lets out a shaky,

"N-no, boss..."

"Good. Everything in my plan has gone to shit. Taking her is our last hope." He nods in your direction. "If his little squeeze being dropped into the river won't reel him back in I don't know what will..."

Aaron's blood runs cold but he gives a shaky nod in understanding, his neck stiff as he resists the urge to look at you again.

"Let's go..." Tyler strides to the front door, adjusting his blazer, his voice reverting back to a pleasant friendly tone, the wolf shifting back into sheep's clothing as he walked towards Gloria, putting a hand on her shoulders, leading her away in the opposite direction of Tyler's henchmen carefully and quickly stowing you in the waiting suburban in the parking lot, with an anxious Aaron right behind.

----

Later that evening

The dread in Miguel's body quickly escalated when he saw all the lights in your apartment had been turned off as he swung into view of it. Immediate self-hatred and regret flashed in his mind.

He knew he should not have left you alone.

He went to open the sliding door and it was locked. Shit. He pounded the window frantically, "Babe?! ¿Estás aqui?!(Are you here?) Babe?!"

He shook the door, nearly rattling it off his hinges. The sound of your name rolling off his tongue with more and more desperation. Something was gravely wrong when you didn't answer. He had to act quickly. No time for second thoughts. Miguel takes a deep breath and kicks the glass as hard as he can and the whole thing shatters with a loud crash.

The security system alarm sounds at the intrusion and Miguel curses loudly. He steps over the broken glass and runs into your living room, turning on the light. He darts into your bedroom, your bathroom, the kitchen, the entryway, muttering to himself, cold sweat starting to bead aross his worried brow, his stomach tying itself in sickening knots as he prepared for the worst possible sight of you laying hurt or dead, perhaps, but you're nowhere to be found which sets off a new wave of panic in his head.

Miguel stood at the counter and doubled over, his hands behind his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. The blaring sounds of the alarm started to hurt his ears and he could barely think and let his mind process everything that just happened. He took deep shaky breaths, trying desperately to calm himself as he felt himself inching closer and closer to a full blown melt down. He blew air out of his cheeks and slowly opened his eyes, his vision slightly blurry from the tears of frustration wetting it. He noticed a piece of paper on the counter and brought it closer to him with a shaky hand. It read:

"If you want her to live, then you'll return to Alchemax at once, turn yourself in, and finish the job you were hired to do."

Miguel's nostrils flared and his heart rate speed up as he read the letter: his worst fear was confirmed to be true. Somehow or other, Tyler found out where you lived and kidnapped you while he was out. And now he was threatening to kill you if Miguel didn't comply.

This was truly a living nightmare. This stuff only happened in movies, and now he was quite literally living it scene by scene. His mind raced of images of you possibly tied to a chair, sitting in a cell, duct tape around your mouth, eyes tear stained and red, alone and defenseless and completely at Tyler's mercy, and Miguel knew him well enough to know that Tyler had a very short supply.

Miguel barely starts trying to form a plan in his head when he hears banging at the door and the sound of men's heavy boots. "NYPD! OPEN UP! IF ANYONE'S INSIDE MAKE YOURSELF KNOWN!"

Miguel stuffs the ransom note inside his hoodie pocket, scrambling to the window and swinging away into the night just as the door to your apartment bursts open with several men in uniform with guns cocked rush inside only to discover the foe they were hunting had already fled the scene.

-----

Somewhere in a bunker along the Hudson River Valley

Your eyes fluttered open, goosebumps dotted your arms and you shivered, a piercing headache suddenly making itself known as you groaned your way out of your groggy haze. You dizzily scanned your surroundings, or lack thereof. You noticed you were laying on a small twin sized bed, the mattress was anything but cushy. The room was dark with no furniture and an empty closet and no windows. You felt a little claustrophobic, walking briskly to the door and trying to rattle it open.

"Hello?!" You called. Cursing and shaking the door, your breaths coming out more frantic than the last. You backed away from the door, wringing your hands nervously, eyes darting, pleading for a bit of light or at least a clue as to your new, mysterious location.

The door creaked open at last, and Tyler Stone stood in front of the opening, the darkness of your room casting a black shadow on his face, giving him a sinister aura. You cowered backwards, sitting on the bed again.

"You...." you whispered. "Where the hell am I? Where's Miguel?"

Tyler didn't answer, and walked to the middle of the room, tugging a small chord that hung from the center of the ceiling, a small yellow light turns on.

You blink as the room becomes washed in a soft orangey glow. You look around some more, piecing together that you were in a small bedroom, which looked to be in the basement of some unknown dwelling.

Tyler crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "The location of where you are right now isn't important..."

"Umm yes it is?!" You snapped. Tyler's eyebrows raised slightly at your flippant reply. "You kidnapped me! You're the one who tried to kill my boyfriend you fucking..."

At that point, the same tall accomplice with curly dark hair that held you hostage earlier swiftly enters the room, barreling into you and throwing you backwards on the bed before you can lunge at Tyler, his weight crushing you slightly as you let out a pained yelp, your body jerking from the force, the pain in your head worsening from the whiplash.

"Thanks, Jack..." Tyler twirls a toothpick between his fingers, crossing the room where you lay pinned onto the bed, held in place by Jack, both sets of their blue eyes piercing you with a mixture of fascination and annoyance. "Forgot she could be kind of a handful..."

Tyler crouches down, so his face is at your eye level, with your limbs still held down by Jack. Tyler gives you a teasing smirk as he holds the toothpick in his teeth. "Been using these to cut down my little tobacco habit..." he muses with a whispery chuckle. "But as I was saying...the location of where you are right now doesn't matter, my dear. What matters is that you comply and do exactly what I tell you to, and stop giving Jack here such a hard time..." he stands up, striding to the door. He gives Jack a little nod when it becomes clear you're not going to fight back any longer.

Jack releases you and you let out a small groan, your hands running over your arms where his fingers pinched the tender flesh. You look up at Tyler with angry tears brimming your eyes and he chuckles again, shaking his head at your anguish.

"There's definitely no need for tears. Your boyfriend works for me, you see... And he stole something very important. A drug called Rapture?" He pulls out a small vial from his breast pocket, giving it a little wiggle as he holds it between his thumb and middle finger. He stows it back in his pocket after a brief moment.

"The company I work for... Alchemax, is the only supplier of this drug and, let's say there's a lot of unknown effects, I'm sure as you've noticed..."

You narrowed your eyes, knowing damn well he was lying through his teeth, his story not adding up to Miguel's who already told you it was Tyler who intentionally drugged him, and his new powers were the result of the gene altering machine being sabotaged with spider DNA by his lackey, Aaron Delgado, not the Rapture itself.

"You're lying..." you murmur quietly.

Tyler's gaze hardens, it's clear he's losing his patience with you. "I'm lying? What about your boyfriend? He left you all alone, couldn't even keep you safe like he promised. Now you'll wind up at the bottom of the Hudson all because of him."

Tyler's face twists into a smug smile when a terrified look appears on your face at his revelation of your grim fate.

"There are worse things to lie about, my dear..." Tyler turns on his heel, and Jack starts to close the door. "If you learn to be quiet, I'll bring you some hot food from the kitchen later on."

You sniffle loudly and the door closes with a loud click, a thick cloud of dread filling the space and darkness suffocating you once more.

Miguel, please hurry, wherever you are...

----

Tyler walks upstairs with a loud sigh, the main floor of the remote bunker revealed to have a cozier interior of that of a mountain cabin. Tyler hums and strides into the kitchen, picking up a mug of black coffee, shaking his head at the trouble you were giving him and his henchmen.

He walked towards the kitchen window, looking out at the tall pines and the forest environment that was covered in a healthy layer of snow, winter well underway in the mid-December season. His eyes flicker past the tall trees and eye the half frozen river in the distance, picturing kicking you into its depths, Miguel's face crinkling in despair when he couldn't save you after he was too stubborn to submit.

Tyler decided he'd finish this project one way or another. Superhuman powers would be available to anyone who wanted them, or at least to whoever Tyler and Alchemax deemed worthy. No longer would humanity be weak and self-serving, no.

No, he would stand at the grand staircase of the dawning of a new species of humans, ushering in a legacy of immortality and superhuman strength superior to all. He hungered for it, he was depraved by it, the need to be the face of it all. Tyler Stone always had his way. He'd be revered throughout history like the God he was.

"Sir?" The brawny second accomplice, different from Jack, came bursting into the kitchen without warning.

Tyler hisses, pulled hastily out of his deep thoughts, "What, Eli...? Give me a signal it's you or something next time, for the love of God..." He sticks a fresh cigar back in his mouth and fumbles in his pocket for his lighter, the slight jump scare enough stress to cause him to forget about the toothpicks earlier.

"I have an update on his daughter's whereabouts: the FaceTime call from yesterday on the girlfriend's phone was to a number coming from Boston."

"Boston...?" Tyler grumbles. There wasn't much he could do about that with them being so far away.

"She's with who appears to be her uncle and grandmother: Gabriel O'Hara and Conchata O'Hara."

Tyler rips the cigar out of his mouth, nearly choking on his smoke.

"Conchata?"

He hadn't heard that name in years. No, it couldn't be. Tyler's gaze narrowed and looked at the laptop Eli was holding. "Give me that..." Tyler slammed his mug back onto the counter and greedily grabbed the laptop with shaky hands, his eyes widening even more at the image that was on the screen.

There it was, a picture of Conchata taking a selfie on what appeared to be a random pier from some beach side vacation on an unknown date, sunglasses shielding her eyes, but not enough to hide her beauty. Her lips were plump and red, curved up into a closed lip smile, her cheeks dimpled and the sun kissing her lovely tanned complexion, a couple of slight gray hairs streaking through her long, thick, wavy raven hair that fell past her shoulders in loose ringlets, a simple floppy sunhat on her head.

It was her.

He knew her as just Conchata before. O'Hara must have been her married name. A simple glance at her photo shot him backwards to over 30 years ago when he was just 21 years old, a young man in college who wandered into a dive bar one fateful Friday night and the lovely young lady who was bartending turned around, pulling him in immediately with those tantalizing brown eyes. Pools of the most decadent dessert, the dark char of wood after it was lit ablaze, lighting him on fire too as he knew it.

That fateful Friday turned into a Saturday, Sunday, Monday, every night he got the chance, he spent it seated at her bar as she spoke to him in that sweet, low, regal voice of hers.

After two weeks, it lead to a heated kiss in the alleyway, which transpired into him sneaking her into his college dorm. Their quiet tipsy giggles turned to soft moans as they loved each other's bodies for the first time.

He looked down at her sleeping form after the act and muttered "I love you..." bravery slipping past him and only bringing him to say it when she was fast asleep. He stroked her chin and vowed that she would one day hear it. He was sure of it. And he had never been sure of anything in his life up until that moment.

But, the next morning she was gone by the time he opened his eyes. He wandered into her bar again that night, his baby blues cinched with worry when she immediately turned to leave as soon as he entered, finally bringing her to confess in the bar's bathroom that she was engaged to someone else. Someone she didn't love and who abused her but she felt pressured to stay anyway under the promise that he would take care of her financially. Meanwhile, Tyler didn't have more than $50 to his name. Must have been that O'Hara guy, whoever his name was that she now went by.

Tyler had left that day a broken man, never returning to that small dive bar, putting her out of his mind indefinitely, never thinking he'd see or hear of her again. Now, he was staring at her picture, the girl who got away was apparently the mother of his number one enemy. But wait...

Tyler's stomach turned lopsided when he gazed at Miguel's file that was open in a window right next to Conchata's. He did the simple math in his head and it all added up. That passionate night with Conchata wasn't just a romantic memory after all. He had left her with something, someone who eventually grew up to be the thorn in his side. The one person who stood in his way of getting everything he ever wanted. The man whose appearance he was waiting on this very second when he'd naively show up to rescue his captive love.

Tyler exhaled slowly, blinking and shaking himself out of his feelings, not letting his realization get in the way any longer. "Guess it's about time Miguel finally paid his old man a proper visit after so long..."

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #Spotify

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ghosty-0w0 · 3 months

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The sillies

Og pic:

I got these from an Instagram reel-

#hehehehe #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #Rottmnt donnie #ghosty art #silly

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h3lfaerie · 5 days

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So casually writing Chapter 8 at the moment, right?

I know I'm taking ages, I'm sorry. IT'S A BIG ONE.

And.

I get distracted by TikToks and Reels (as one does).

Then THIS MF proceeds to pop up on my FYP:

(OG Creator on Instagram -> @that10r)

And I proceed to LOSE MY SHIT BECAUSE-

*fanatically talking to myself in a mirror* You do NOT need to write an entire Modern AU HTTYD Fanfic just so you can have a Biker Hiccup with that vibe. You do not.

You do not.

YOU DO NOT.

Anyway.

I'm almost done with Chapter 8, but I'm not doing well, whatsoever.

*literally crying in the corner*

P.S. If I'm suffering then so are ya'll.

#httyd #httyd fanfiction #my fic #path of alfheim #httyd fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #modern httyd #update

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royalsunshinehotel · 25 days

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social media preference (dev patel)

Anwar Kharral (Skins UK): Anwar is the only one on this list active on TikTok. He's not an uncomfortable teen anymore - he's being cringe on main and setting trends. I bet he's got 90K followers at least! He uses Threads and Instagram to back up his TikTok, not much else.

Sonny Kapoor (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 1&2): For the benefit of the hotel, Sonny is active on Reels to promote the corporate 'brand'. He likes the chance to be creative, and the 'Board' likes the chance to show off the handsome CEO.

Neal Sampat (Newsroom): Neal is an OG Tumblr user, who joined the site as early as 2008. As demonstrated on the show, Neal is adept at using Twitter to cross-reference and fact-check various sources, I do think he'd be a prolific shitposter on a side account, rivaling our king @dril.

Deon Wilson (Chappie 2015): Deon is self-explanatory. he likes to support the indie social media sites that sprung up in the wake of the Fall of Twitter. He's a fan of SpaceHey because he went to Computer Camp with the engineer who started it (it's based out of Germany), which he's always wanted to visit!

Sheru “Saroo” Bierley (Lion 2016): I find it harder to deny with each passing day that Saroo Brierly isn't an Instagram thot. Look at @brockohurn on IG and tell me that they don't have the same respectful bro energy. I think Saroo likes the chance to use all the photos in his camera roll, and I think the MILFs of Instagram are grateful for the content.

Jay Menha (The Wedding Guest, 2019): The closest Jay gets to social media is the Polaroids he likes to stick up on the wall of your shared room. Sometimes, if he's having a bad time, he likes to sit in his beanbag and look at the wall. He only gets a ghost Facebook account to keep up with relatives- nothing ever is posted, ever.

David Copperfield (The Personal History of David Copperfield, 2020): I think David would do numbers on Medium.com because he can write self-prompted think-pieces that no one ever asked about, AND get paid for them! He's writing analyses of "Jeyton vs Brucas vs Leyton: One Tree Hill", and he's actually making money. It would be magic to him!

Joshua Madika (Modern Love, 2019): Joshua's social media is all on Tinder. He's perfected his profile, and he likes talking to people. It's all genuine and zero malice. Who wants to be alone with their thoughts?

Sir Gawain (The Green Knight, 2021): I once read a post about Edward Cullen texting that read, "just saw a snail . . . effervescent," and I think that's as close as Gawain should get to the internet. It's just like shitposting, but it's all for you.

Dr. ZZ Chatterjee (The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, 2023): ZZ keeps his drama on Facebook. He's definitely showing up in comments to defend someone's mutual friend from accusations of bias when she broke up with her tiny boyfriend because she was having neck problems*. With a doctor on her side, she didn't have to post X-rays of her neck! ZZ will be beefing!

The Kid (Monkey Man, 2024): "Ted, the movie hasn't even come out yet! How can you say The Kid is a Pinterest girlie?" It's all pretty pictures with an indefinite scroll. I also bet he's a big fan of putting things in categories (see also: skittles). We'll see who's right.

*true story circa 2018 on my Facebook page.

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wisecrackingeric-2 · 10 days

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🥐🧃🦴 for ask game <333

WAH IM SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO BUT HERES THE ASK GAME https://www.tumblr.com/wisecrackingeric-2/747863396842618880/pleasepleaspleaspleaspleaspleaspleaspleasspelaadple

1. Name an internet reference that always makes you laugh

oh I have S O MANY, but I think at the moment it’s that guy on TikTok and instagram reels who responds to that one really notorious conservative with FNAF lore. Like the og video will be something ridiculous like ‘if women get paid less, then why aren’t we only hiring women?’ And then the guy will stitch that video with ‘well you know who we SHOULDNT hire???? Freddy Fazbear’ and now whenever anyone’s says ‘Freddy Fivebears’ around me I just start sobbing

Either that or literally any notorious tumblr post like the three weed smoking girlfriends or the ball pit

2. Share some personal lore you’ve never shared before

I’ve seen a Boeing 747 crash on a runway, I got frostbite and almost had to amputate my foot on Mount Everest base camp and had to get emergency helicoptered out, I know how to fly a helicopter, my dad is friends with George Lucas, Sir Edmund Hillary (before he died) and Temuera Morrison, one of my primary school teachers was a very famous anime voice actor, I work in the animation industry (kinda I’m doing an apprenticeship) and I can speak three languages (English, Te Reo, and a little bit of Niuean).

3. Is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

Almost EVERYTHING inspires what I create. I always believe in wearing your inspirations on your sleeve, so stuff like watching the Neverending Story and The Last Unicorn growing up to reading Don Quixote last year has left a permanent impact on what I create. And of course Resident Evil has been a driving motivation for everything I’ve been doing lately but that’s like. Duh WNAHDNDJDNDJMX

#ericsasks

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camgirlsurvivalguide · 1 year

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Get Off Your Ass and Start Shaking It

Tough love for creators who need a push

I need to get my head out of my ass and start believing in myself again, so I’m writing this for myself - but sharing it for anyone who might benefit from seeing it. Enjoy a little slap from yours truly - free of charge.

1. Accept that you’re starting from “scratch”.

The internet is different now. Sex work is different now. If you’re an OG, it’s important to recognize that burnout isn’t just OnlyFans burnout - it’s industry burnout. We didn’t get a chance to catch our breath between having had ManyVids and MFC and then OnlyFans and now the biggest bitch of them all, visibility on social media. Our tweets used to show up and now they don’t. Our followers used to see us on Instagram, and now they don’t. We can cry about this all we like (and I do so frequently because it’s more healthy than just bottling it all up), but tears won’t pay the bills, baby. Time to pull up your socks and get moving.

2. Do your best not to overthink it.

There are a million and one theories on how to do things “right”, when in reality, sometimes a single Reel about absolutely nothing with zero effort involved will hit the algorithm and pop the fuck off. Strategizing can be good, but staying up to date with the theories surrounding advertising should be inspiring, not crippling. We’re doing away with creation paralysis. Brush yourself off, and focus on making content to the best of your ability. Who cares if it’s only selfies and low effort shit for now? People will pay for pretty much anything, and if you have any semblance of a following, they want to see what you put out even if it’s not “to your standards”.

3. Switch up your routine.

This sounds brutal because it is, but this is what I’ve been doing as of late: and it’s helping. You’ll come up with justifiable reasons why this may not be right for you - but ask yourself if what you’re doing right now is right for you. Are you achieving what you want to achieve with the routine you have? Do you even have a routine? This is tough love, but it’s meant to be a realistic look at where you’re at, followed by support to get you to where you want to be.

A month ago I started plugging my phone in across the room and setting an alarm for 5:30am. I have to physically get up to turn it off. It’s a brutal way of waking up (even though the alarm I have is all peaceful and cute, but still) - but it gets me up. I have my robe and slippers waiting for me, and I do not allow myself to get back into bed. I do my best work in the morning after coffee and before my first meal of the day. I’m not saying you need to work with this timeline, but if you’re a sleep-until-nooner, set your alarm for 10am. If you’re a work-later-on, set an alarm for when you need to start work - and then get your ass up. It’s hard to build a routine but much easier to maintain it once the habits are in place, so have a little faith in yourself. I don’t care how many times I’ve started, hit the ground running, and then crashed and burned, because guess what happened while I was running? I made money. Focus more on the positives of when you are functional, rather than moaning about the times when you’re not. If you’re in this industry it means you have, at some point or another, made it work for you. You can do it again.

I get out of bed at 5:30am, rinse off in the shower, make my coffee and do a beauty routine that makes me feel really fucking pretty. Sure, messy hair and an instagram filter can do just fine, and again - any content is better than no content - but I feel my best after dry brushing my skin (hello cellulite and the obvious signs of ageing, lol) and then applying a really nice smelling lotion all over my body. I have been listening to Ariana Grande instead of my usual lofi (or just fucking silence, which also isn’t great for my motivation levels). Pump yourself the fuck up. You’re a bad bitch under the weight of all of this self imposed pressure and comparison, you just need to wake that energy up again, and you can do it. Take your meds and drink your water. After coffee I’m in my most positive state to work through my inbox. Yeah, a neglected inbox on OnlyFans is going to take a hot fucking minute to get through but once you actually do it, it’ll be easier moving forward. Buck up, baby - you can do hard things, and the payoff will be worth it.

Setting actual times to get shit done is helping me immensely. I work on OnlyFans until noon. At noon, my second alarm goes off and I get up and eat and stretch and do something other than look at my phone. Most importantly: PAT YOURSELF ON THE FUCKING BACK! If you’ve done something more than you did the day before or the week before or the month before, you’re moving. You’re going. You’re doing. Our nasty little brains can always tell us we could be making more of ourselves but you know what, fuck that shit. Focus on doing 1% more than you did the day before. Rome wasn’t built in a day and again: you’re starting fresh from this moment forward. Kick the shit out of that voice in your head that wants to compare you to other people or, worse, compare you to what you “used to be able to do”. Fuck it, whatever, we are where we are - all we can do is work with that and make the most of it.

4. Schedule, schedule, schedule

Instagram allows you to schedule posts. If you do your makeup to shoot for OnlyFans, make two or three reels. Schedule them to post over the next few days. If you manage to shoot a few photos for OnlyFans, make a semi-SFW one and queue that up as well. Places like TweetDeck will allow you to even schedule Twitter posts in advance. Pound an energy drink (or take your meds, if you need that extra focus as I know many of us do) and get ‘er done. That way you can focus on working for shit down the line rather than trying to do everything day by day. OnlyFans lets you queue, so utilize it! Setting aside even one day to sit in your grubby sweatpants and just hammer out scheduling can be so fucking advantageous not only to building your success, but to strengthening your confidence and mental health.

I’m not going to blatantly call justifiable reasons excuses, but sometimes you need to really look at what your internal monologue is saying and whether or not it’s advantageous. If you’re depressed as shit, there are so many strategies out there to get you moving even while you’re depressed. If you’re ADHD or neurodivergent, there are strategies for you, too. The playing field is not level and if you’re starting from a rough point in your life, working will be really hard - but what’s the alternative? Not working, and making it even harder? I know you know this already, but you’re probably using this knowledge to beat yourself senseless. Stop. Even for one day, actively shout (out loud or into a pillow, whatever) at the nasty voice in your head that tells you that you’re too limited by your current position to crawl out of the hole you feel like you’re in. You can handle a scheduling day. Tell yourself, over and over again, that you can handle it. Even if you take breaks every hour to screech like a banshee or cry onto your keyboard, you can push through it. Send it. I believe in you in the same way I push myself to believe in myself. It’s not easy for any of us - but nothing ever is.

This isn’t bullshit coming from someone who’s doing well. I struggle so, so much. This shit is a grind for me, too. I berate myself and compare myself and am so fucking self critical that it can be immobilizing - but I have to smack some sense into myself once in a while and remind myself that I can grind even when I feel like I can’t. Sometimes I lean into being outright delusional. I love lucky girl syndrome. Shove your head into the clouds and pretend that you’re the absolute best version of yourself, even if you feel like absolute dogshit. The vibes may not last long, but if they last long enough for you to make something happen, then you’re pulling off that 1% improvement that you’re striving for.

5. Plan for breaks

Give yourself a light at the end of the tunnel, whether it’s relaxing at the end of the day or planning a “do absolutely nothing but lay around” day at the end of the week. As much as it may feel like you’re staring into an abysmal black hole demanding you to do more and more forever and ever, you’re not. You can hustle while taking breaks: in fact, you need to take breaks to make the hustle happen. Just be cautious not to let the downtime turn into a downturn. I put a limit on my rest periods because I am prone to lying face down and just … not getting back up, for weeks or months on end. Saturdays are my sleep in days. Sundays are my do nothing (except for a lil chores or whatever) days. Then I’m back to the grindstone on Monday, knowing that after my “end work day” alarm goes off, I can simply vibe out.

6. Stop looking at the numbers for now

Analytics are great, but also … not great. Story only got 500 views even though you have thousands of followers? It’s still 500 views. Reel didn’t hit the explore page? Whatever, at least a few people saw it. Recent PPV only sold once? It’s more money than you had before you released it. The best way to handle the restart period is to just focus on output and let any number motivate you to keep on keeping on. Everyone started somewhere. The biggest accounts started at 0 followers and the most successful OnlyFans pages started at 0 subscribers. You started from nothing, too.

7. Revisit your dreams

Do not stop yourself from dreaming big. What do you want? You can have it. Setbacks are setbacks, not finish lines. A break is a break, not an end. Write your dreams out and put them somewhere you can see them and fucking CELEBRATE every step you take toward them. If you need to start small to feel good about yourself, then do that. If your goal is to post once a week, push yourself to make that happen. If your goal is to make a certain amount of money in a week, do what you need to do to make that happen, whether it’s more posts, more messaging or more advertising. I like to set my goals small but keep my dreams big. I want to buy a condo, which is a big dream, but in order to do that, achieving all my little goals will put me closer to that every time I cross it off my “to do” list.

8. Fucking believe in yourself, goddamnit

You can do it. You can do it. You CAN do it. Do what you need to do, as your unique and individual little self, to put the systems that support you in place. Trust that you can rely on yourself. Even if that trust is frail for now, it will build as you build yourself up. Berating yourself isn’t helping, is it? I didn’t think so. You’re beautiful, interesting, worthy and so fucking capable, even on days where you think you aren’t. We’re in this together.

#camgirl survival guide

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