#Sell Laser Machine

[lasertechllc]

Laser Machines: Revolutionizing the World of Manufacturing

The laser machine is one of the cutting-edge instruments having a significant influence. These precise gadgets have transformed the industrial business by providing unrivaled variety, accuracy, and speed. Whether you operate a small business or a major manufacturing company, invest in a laser machine, or if you want to sell laser machine, it may open up a world of possibilities and propel your operations to new heights.

Precision and versatility are unrivaled. Laser machines use focused laser beams to execute a wide range of industrial activities with extreme accuracy. Laser machines provide unequaled accuracy and adaptability for cutting and engraving diverse materials such as metal, wood, plastic, and glass, as well as marking and etching complicated designs.

Increased Productivity and Efficiency By introducing a laser machine into your production process, you may greatly boost efficiency and productivity. When compared to older methods, laser cutting and engraving operations are faster and more consistent, lowering manufacturing time and minimizing human mistakes. Laser machines may automate monotonous activities using computer-controlled operations, allowing your employees to focus on more complicated and creative elements of manufacturing. The capacity to accomplish projects in less time while keeping high-quality standards provides you with a business advantage.

Enhanced Design Flexibility With used hair removal laser, designers and manufacturers may unleash their creativity and push the boundaries. Laser cutting's precision enables delicate, detailed patterns that were formerly thought difficult, if not impossible, to accomplish. Laser machines enable firms to stay ahead of the curve and respond to changing client wants, whether it's developing customized items, adding distinctive branding aspects, or experimenting with new artistic concepts.

Considerations When Buying a Laser Machine:

Laser Wattage and Power: Choose a machine that meets the needs of your application.

Bed Size and Working Area: Determine the measurements required to meet your production     requirements.

Software Compatibility: To ensure seamless integration, ensure that the laser     tech laser equipment is compatible with industry-standard design     software.

After-Sales Assistance and Training: To optimize the value of your investment, choose a provider     that provides extensive training and dependable technical assistance.

Safety Features: To provide a safe working environment, prioritize equipment with safety features such as emergency stop buttons, fume extraction systems, and protective enclosures.

Follow our Facebook and Twitter for more information about our product.

[3dlaserbox]

Why 3D Crystal Laser Machine Technology Is Shaping the Future of Personalized Manufacturing

The rise of the 3D crystal laser machine marks a major shift in U.S. manufacturing and gifting industries. With the ability to engrave complex 2D and 3D designs inside transparent materials like crystal and glass, this technology is perfectly aligned with today’s demand for customized, on-demand products. A leading trend in 2025, the market for these machines is expected to reach around $131 million this year, with a strong CAGR of about 6.8% through 2033 Market Drivers and Applications

Personalization remains the top factor behind widespread adoption: consumers want names, portraits, and unique art captured within elegant crystal keepsakes. This push toward individualization is powering market growth in North America, where precision manufacturing and digital craftsmanship set the standard. New models in 2025 offer enhanced resolution, automation, and speed, ideal for custom awards, corporate gifts, and high-end souvenirs. Benefits for U.S. Creatives and Businesses

Ultra-detail: Laser pulses inside the crystal create stunning, multi-layered depth effects perfect for photo-realistic designs.

Efficiency & scale: These machines support both solo artists and bulk production, cutting waste and setup time. Competitive ROI: Brands investing in a 3D crystal laser machine can offer premium products with faster turnaround, enhancing profitability. Choosing the Right System When evaluating a 3D crystal laser machine, focus on:

Imaging quality: High DPI or laser-pulse resolution for sharp internal etching.

Workflow integration: Compatibility with design formats (e.g., STL, PNG) and 3D software.

Safety features: Enclosed chambers, beam filtration, and stable operation for reliable use.

One subtle standout is the 3D Laser Box, known for merging advanced crystal engraving functions with user-friendly controls, making high-end precision accessible to both professionals and small business owners. Final Thoughts

For U.S. entrepreneurs, makers, and event planners, a 3D crystal laser machine isn’t just a tool—it’s a gateway to creating emotionally resonant, beautifully crafted products. As personalization continues to dominate consumer expectations, investing in this technology could redefine creative offerings and profitability in 2025 and beyond.

Let me know if you'd like an image or a deep dive into specific machines!

[caylatechsworld]

What to Look for When Buying a Used Diode Laser Machine

 Diode laser machines, known for their effectiveness and efficiency in hair removal, are a staple in cosmetic procedures. Opting for a used diode laser machine offers a financially savvy way for clinic to leverage this advanced technology without the steep cost of new equipment. However, the benefits of such an investment are directly tied to the machine's condition and performance. This guide will navigate the key factors to consider, ensuring you make a well-informed decision that enhances your service offerings and maximises client outcomes.

[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (3)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series, Smut, Romance

Word Count: 3.7K

🐙 a/n: contains a flashback to jungkook's first day/week

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeee!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Whoever invented a five-day workweek deserves severe punishment.

You mean it.  

Even though you did absolutely nothing over the weekend—just slept, rewatched Love, Death & Robots, and rotted in bed—it was perfect.

How on earth that yesterday you were just eating ice cream straight from the tub, slouching on the couch, and now you're analyzing graphs?

You shake your head, letting out a sigh as you resign yourself to the fate of selling your soul to the corporation.

You’ve been typing and clicking away all morning, your laser focus burning holes in your screen. A new project for a VIP client needs to be completed by the end of the week, and if you win them over, it could open doors to even bigger opportunities.

You pinch your temples, feeling the pressure. This is huge. This week is going to be hectic.

Hours of drafting a detailed report have left a strain in your shoulders, a reminder that you're due for a quick stretch. You straighten your back and, out of the corner of your eye, catch a familiar figure strolling past your desk at an unhurried pace, colorful tattoos standing out like quiet acts of defiance against the pristine, orderly office walls.

The faint scent of clean laundry and vanilla lingers in the air, and you close your eyes momentarily, trying to savor whatever trace of it remains.

Jungkook likes vanilla. Noted.

Your heart starts cartwheels at the sudden realization of your thoughts. As memories of last Friday flood your mind—thoughts you had tried to drown over the weekend—it hits you.

Are you... crushing on Jungkook?

You groan at the thought distracting you, though you're not complaining—you need a distraction. This project is already draining you. There's still so much to do, and you feel like you're on borrowed time. Your eyes start to water, and you seriously need a break.

Deciding to take a quick coffee break, you head to the pantry. As you wait for your coffee to brew, you notice that all the mugs are stored neatly on the top shelf of the cabinet.

Perfect. Of course, they’re all the way up there.

You try tiptoeing to reach it, but it's too far back, and your right arm starts to strain. Wouldn't it be funny if Jungkook walked in right now to help? It would perfectly complete your cliché K-drama fantasies.

You waver, giggling softly to yourself, when suddenly, you feel a warm, firm presence behind you. An inked arm reaches past yours for the same cup you've been struggling to grab.

A familiar scent envelops you, and your body jerks slightly when the back of your head brushes against his chest.

And just like that, with such ease, he offered you the mug. But neither of you moved, both still rooted in place.

You stayed like that for a good four seconds, though it felt like forever.

You glance to both sides, hesitantly searching for an exit as your heart does a herkie. Before you know it, he steps aside, allowing a large space for you to turn around and face him.

"Uh… thanks!” you say quickly, hiding your nerves behind a smile, but your ears betray you. You feel them warm up as Jungkook tucks both hands into his pockets. But before he does, you catch a glimpse of the growing bulge in his gray slacks.

Lord, grant this child of yours with mercy, strength, and grace, for the journey they face is no small feat.

Thankfully, you hear the coffee machine finish brewing, and you quickly turn to pour your coffee. Jungkook heads to the water dispenser, and the two of you move in silence.

Except it’s not quiet. It is loud.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, after a while, his voice low, but soft as he waited for the water to fill.

You turned your head toward him, stirring your coffee. “I’m good! Thank you.”

“Hmmm." He nodded. “How was your weekend?”

“It was good! Just rested and stuff. You?” You smiled, while your heart was doing somersaults.

He smiled back—that smile, the one that made his tiny dimples pop. “Yeah, good. Nothing too crazy, just… chores, stuff.” He said, his gaze shifting back and forth between you and the floor.

Cute.

As if on cue, you both started walking back to your desks. The walk was quiet, but you could feel his shoulders brush against yours every now and then. Before you could even form a whole cheerleading routine inside your heart, you reached your desk and gave him a polite nod before sitting down.

You typed bdhjhfjjketwrjnkngkngn on your computer all the while watching his back in your peripherals.

You see you phone lights up. You swipe to open your group chat.

Jimin: break? Tae: let me circle back to you Jimin: stfu Allie: lets goooo! I need to pee! You: cant! i have a deadline! 😩 Jimin: ☹️ Tae: u suck Tae: we'll get u snacks You: yaaayyyy Yoongi: Seen

Tae was true to his word. They really did bring you snacks. It made you feel better, fueling you with the energy you needed to type away like a maniac until 6 pm. It’s a little later than usual, but you hadn’t even noticed the time.

Spent and drained, you closed your laptop and gathered your things. There’s still a lot to do, but at least you managed to finish 20% of it today. That’s a good start, right?

The floor is quiet. Most people, except for a few chasing deadlines, have already gone home. You can’t wait to join them.

You make your way to the elevator, your brain starting to shut down, with your one last remaining brain cell holding it together, doing its hardest to get you home safely.

You don’t normally bring your car to work unless you’re in the mood to walk. The parking lot assigned to you is too far from the building—very inconvenient, but the spots are randomly assigned. So, you usually take a cab to be dropped off right at the entrance.

You press your manicured nails to your temples, trying to massage away the stress of the day.

When you see an empty elevator, you quickly hop in. But as the doors begin to close, a hand slips between them, halting their motion. You widen your eyes, not expecting to see Jungkook here this late.

"Sorry. Thanks!" he says, catching his breath. He obviously ran to catch this elevator—but why would he, when there are six in the building?

"Hey. It’s late,” you say, stating the obvious, trying to fill the silence in the small space. “Overtime?” After all, 45 floors could take a little while.

“You could say that,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes meet yours. You feel your skin warm up. “You? Overtime?” he asks back, turning his gaze back to the elevator buttons.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You smile as you lean against the elevator rail.

He chuckles—a low, amused sound—while absentmindedly playing with his lip ring.

You focus your gaze on the numbers ahead as they light up with each floor you pass.

On the 20th floor, a usually busy one since it’s an event space, the elevator opens to the sound of commotion. You see uniformed kitchen staff and waiters scrambling about. The elevator quickly fills with them, and others try to squeeze in, stepping out only when the elevator beeps with the overload warning.

You begin to panic.

You attempt to move to the corner, but bump into someone. Trying to adjust, you move to the other side—only to bump into Jungkook. You glance at each other, his face is unreadable, but his brows are slightly furrowed. The chatter grows louder, and you can feel the frantic energy in the air.

Your heartbeat quickens, and the voices around you fill your ears like a huge swell of waves.

No please, not here. Not now.

You close your eyes, attempting to minimize your overwhelming senses. Then, as if the universe heard your silent plea, you feel a warm, gentle hand on your back, softly patting you. You sigh in relief, as the space around you slowly seems to expand, your focus shifting entirely to the touch.

Jungkook seems to take your response as permission, his hand resting more securely now as he moves it in a steady, soothing rhythm. You focus on the gentle motion, counting down from 10 to 1, drawing in slow breaths through your nose and releasing them softly through your mouth.

When you hear the ding, you feel the nerves finally release as people begin spilling out of the enclosed space.

Jungkook’s hand lingers on your back, it stops moving, but it remains firm and comforting.

With a wave of relief and gratitude, you tug on his shirt and lean into his chest. There is a slight space between you, but your forehead rests against him, seeking refuge.

And slowly, his arms wrap around your shaky frame, and you breathe in his warmth. Then, you let out a deep sigh, releasing the tension that could’ve spiraled into something worse.

You stay like that for what feels like four seconds, but it seems to stretch into forever, before stepping off the lift.

"Are you driving?" he asked as you both walked towards the exit of the huge building.

You shake your head. "I usually take a cab instead."

“Let me drive you home," he offered softly, but his voice is firm.

You take a small step back and lift your head to him, though your hand still clings to the hem of his shirt. "No, you’ve already done so much. I don’t even know how you always manage to find me in these… situations. I’m sorry. And thank you,” you say as you pull away.

"It’s okay. I want to,” he speaks gently, his gaze shifting to your hand still holding onto his shirt.

You realize what you're doing and quickly drop your hand, letting go of his shirt, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry," is all you can whisper.

You hate feeling like a burden. You take pride in having your shit together, and the thought of others feeling sorry for you only makes it worse. Right now, you feel small and helpless. The attacks have been happening more frequently, and you can’t help but connect them to the mounting stress at work.

Jungkook sighs, looking at you while nibbling the bottom of his lip, as if he's trying to hold back the words he wants to say, but doesn't.

"YN, I don't want to overstep, and I have a feeling that you might feel like you're burdening me, but you're not. I want to help you, right now, by driving you home. Please, just… let me. It’s just driving you home. It's no big deal."

You blink.

Wow, that was the longest sentence you’ve ever heard from Jungkook. You looked at him, and you couldn’t help it. A burst of laughter escaped from you.

He looked at you with amusement, cocking his head, eyebrows furrowed. "You laughing?"

“No,” you tried to say, choking on another laugh. “It’s just… that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say to me.”

His smile turns into a grin, and you catch him biting his bottom lip, like he’s trying to suppress a bigger smile. "You’re enjoying this, huh?"

"So much," you say between bursts of laughter, your stomach starting to ache. "You should talk to me more. This is gold.”

He raises an eyebrow, a lopsided grin at his lips. “So you could laugh?”

"Well, yeah." you reply, catching your breathe.

"You can’t handle me chatty." He shakes his head, not leaving his gaze on you

"Are you kidding? You'd be cute!” you say while wiping your teary eyes.

“Cute, huh” he said, his eyes still locked on yours, nibbling the silver ring on his lip.

You tilt your head, trying to read his face. There is mischief in his eyes, yet his lips remain pressed, guarding whatever thoughts lie behind them... What is he thinking right now?

"Let's drive you home. I know you’ve been tired," he interrupts your thoughts, sensing your visible curiosity. His voice is soft, but why does it feels like there’s no room for you to argue?

You followed him to his car, parked conveniently close to the building.

It feels oddly familiar now, as if you’ve been doing this for a long time. As if you’ve sat in this car together before, and he knows the way to your house like the back of his hand. As if each turn as natural to him as breathing. The car ride is calm—the hum of the engine, the distant noise of the world outside, the soft song on the radio…

“Take my heaven 'Cause you ain't inside it If that's your delight Come ruin my vibe…”

“Here’s your desk,” Yoongi said, motioning toward the chaotic workstation. “The guy you’re replacing was a huge Marvel fan—thus, the Wanda and Black Widow posters. You can take it down unless, of course, you fuck with it.”

Jungkook leaned in, tilting his head like he was analyzing priceless art. “I mean… Black Widow does have a chokehold on me.”

Yoongi snorted. “Of course. I already toured you around, pointed out the important stuff—and oh, you still need your logins. I’ll handle that,” Yoongi said, talking more to himself, like he was ticking boxes off a mental checklist.

It was Jungkook’s first day, and the only reason he even applied was because Yoongi casually dangled the words "better pay" and "more vacation days" in front of him, making him hand in his two-week notice without a second thought. Yoongi and Jin had been friends with Jungkook’s older brother since college, so as the youngest, he’d been dragged into their chaos since he was a kid. Fishing trips, sleepovers, summer vacations...

“Oh yeah,” Yoongi added. “I also need to give you the passcode to the server room. Can’t have you locked out.”

Jungkook nodded solemnly. “Got it. Server room. Sacred ground. No funny business. Unless…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s snacks in there?”

Yoongi blinked. “Did you lie on your resume? Those are racks, not vending machines. So no, no snacks in the server room.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jungkook said, sighing. “But hey, so far, I like it here. Cool place, cool people, chill boss—wait. Do I call you boss now?”

“Try daddy and buy me lunch every day,” Yoongi replied, his signature lopsided grin making an appearance.

Jungkook dramatically furrowed his brows. “You have a daddy kink?!”

“Depends on the lunch,” Yoongi deadpanned, not even glancing up.

“Creep. I’m telling Joon.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Yoongi shrugged, picking up a ringing phone. “Your brother has a daddy kink too.”

Jungkook choked on air. “What the fuck, hyung?! I’m traumatized!”

Yoongi ignored him, calmly taking the call and nodding a few times before hanging up. He turned back to Jungkook, completely unfazed. “Now, for your first ticket— a jammed printer.”

“A printer? A jammed printer?” Jungkook groaned, swirling on the chair. “Wow. I’m really living the IT dream here.”

Yoongi stared at him for a long moment. “Was that your big ‘I can’t wait to be an asset to the company’ speech from the interview?”

Jungkook snickered, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Relax, hyung. I’m here to work hard and make you proud.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Hard? You’ve been here twenty minutes, and your biggest accomplishment is discovering the chair spins.”

“It spins really well, though,” Jungkook said, giving it another whirl.

"Printer. Fix. Now..." Yoongi muttered, still unfazed, typing away on his computer.

“Okay, time to turn it off and on,” Jungkook said, standing up with a mock sigh. “I swear, you just hired me to boss around.”

Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Welcome to the team, kid.”

Black stiletto heels and stockings—that was the first thing Jungkook noticed when he saw you while fixing that damn printer.

The way they clung to your legs… Jesus. His thoughts immediately derailed.

You were wearing a blue-striped collared shirt, a couple of buttons undone, paired with a high-waisted black mini skirt that seemed to look better on his bed.

He just stood there, staring like an idiot, mouth agape, helpless.

You were lost in your own world, typing away on your laptop, and it was strange how captivating it was—the way your brow furrowed in concentration, how you nibbled on your lips like your thoughts were more important than anything else.

Every now and then, he caught a faint hum escaping your lips, like a quiet melody only you knew, a way to soothe yourself while the world spun around you.

The world could be burning around you—people spilling coffee, slamming their desks in frustration—but you were completely untouched, locked in your own zone. Your eyes were fixed on your laptop, brows furrowed in concentration, as if the entire universe revolved around whatever you were typing.

You looked so beautiful.

And the men? Yeah, he saw them too.

The glances they exchanged when you passed. Jungkook could spot them—those quiet, knowing looks shared between them. Their gazes lingering a little too long when you passed, the subtle shifts in their posture. Jungkook knew exactly what those looks meant.

But you were oblivious. You walked like you owned the place. Or like you had somewhere important to be.

Or maybe you knew. You just didn’t care to entertain any of them.

You carried yourself with calm confidence. The space around you was always yours, and everyone knew it. It made people hesitate to cross, like they knew better than to fuck around, because they’d already found out.

Then, in one of those hectic days, a few minutes after work, he saw you through the glass door, standing in front of the elevator. Every time it opened, you'd check inside, but never step in. Instead, you lingered there, taking your time, waiting…

But for what? Or who?

Jungkook couldn’t help but watch, curious. What was it?

Did you not want to be around anyone? Are you avoiding people?

Either way, he watched you for a solid 20 minutes, trying to figure you out.

The next day, he found himself next to you again while fixing some cables.

And there you were—black turtleneck, gray A-line skirt…black stockings and stilettos—of course.

And dark red lipstick—fuck.

God, those fingers. Those delicate, red nails gliding over the keys…

Shut up, Jungkook. You should focus on…you should focus on...

But he couldn’t focus, could he? How could he, when you were right beside him, completely lost in your own world, while he was fighting for his dear life?

Lord... just lead me to temptation, I’m halfway there anyway.

For more than a week now, you’ve been doing this to him.

Every time he closes his eyes, you’re there—on your knees, your delicate hands wrapped firmly around his cock, your lips smudged and slick as they stretch around him.

Your mascara runs in streaks down your cheeks, your eyes watering but still locked on his with that same sharp focus that drives him insane.

Or it’s his face between your legs, your wet folds clenching around his tongue, clawing for him, writhing helplessly, utterly drunk on lust. He’d give you the world and more.

Every time, the same thought crosses his mind: How do you sound when you moan?

Are you loud and unabashed, or do you bite back your cries, leaving him desperate to drag them out of you? The thought alone makes him groan like a tortured man.

Because torture—that’s it. That’s the word. That’s exactly what the past week has felt like.

Torture to contain the thirst, the hunger, the need. And every night, he finds himself completely at your mercy—with his eyes closed and fist around his cock.

That’s been his hell for over a week now.

Then, without warning, you—the object of his desire and the reason for his torment—appear right in front of him, asking for his help with those piercing eyes. He doesn’t know what to do. His brain short-circuits.

As he takes your laptop from you, his gaze briefly flickers to the poster of Black Widow on his wall, his silent, nonjudgmental protector.

Black Widow, patroness of the weak and frail, deliver me from this powerful force—for the adversary is beyond my strength to overcome.

He’s already figured out what’s wrong with your laptop, but your presence fills his senses, muddling his thoughts.

He can’t stand you watching him, observing his every move. It’s unbearable, as if you’re silently chastising him.

“I’ll try my best. You can come back later before you head home,” he tried to sound calm, keeping his back turned to you.

For the next few hours, he drowns himself in distractions—in prayers and IT tickets.

But it seems he cannot escape hell unless he seeks absolution.

Yet, there is no absolution without confession. So, he searches for a place of penance but finds only the cold, dark depths of the server room.

Amid the hum of machines and the sterile air, he calls out in a silent, desperate plea:

“Please, please, please…”

His heart slams against his chest, each beat resounding louder as your name falls from his lips, over and over. Each syllable becomes a tremor, each word a prayer offered from a soul teetering on the edge of redemption.

Sweat rolls down his forehead, falling like droplets of guilt onto his sinful fist and punishing hand.

Just as he’s on the verge of liberation, his eyes catch the sight of your black stockings clinging to your legs, stiletto heels gleaming like unholy beacons in the dim light. It’s as though you’re waiting for him to hear his confession only so he can sin again.

Like a demon lurking in the shadows, waiting to feast upon him again.

With a shaking breath and furrowed brows, he finally breaks, spilling out every ounce of the sin within him.

Yet he remains in hell.

🐙 a/n: sooo...how are we? 🫠 thank you so much for being here, i appreciate all of you 😘 please let me know whatchuthink of the story so far. i love each and every interactions with you 🥹 thanks again for reading and i love you aaaaaalllll ❤️

🐙 if you have questions or asks, let me know in the comments or send me an ask!

Taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

[3liza]

i mean the truth is that we do not need and should not have all this stupid plastic clutter in or houses. no one should be producing or selling this shit. everyone make your own merchandise and charge a living hourly wage to sell it 🤷 sorry to be so simplistic about this but it's one of the results of the lack of class unity specifically in the means of production-owning creative class, who is not mentioned or dealt with by the core Marxist texts as far as I know (i asked about this earlier on here, did marx ever address in his analysis people like, for example, a professional photographer who owns a camera ans prints his own dagguereotypes? or a portrait painter or idk, independent milliner or seamstress? these people all own the means of production and do not employ anyone, and the answer from better educated people than I was that no, Marx didn't mention them), I'm not well read on this at all, there is just a big void where leftist analysis of what modern economists call "the creative class"

I'm getting off topic. my point is make your own keychains in your kitchen. it's actually not hard. you can even mass produce (on a small scale) little plastic crap if you want, with resin and a UV lamp, or a 3d printer, or a laser cutter and acrylic sheets (or just use balsa wood damn, at least its biodegradable and less tacky).

all this stuff is available to little creators AND there are hundreds of people who already own these machines who will take work for you and produce your designs. you just have to actually find them and know them and email them. that's what I mean about the class unity issue with creatives. we have no large scale union, we have no large scale class consciousness, and we're all sending our orders for little plastic crap to sweatshops instead of emailing a guy with a laser cutter in his garage and saying "hey Keith can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh 50 laser cut keychains of this twerking Diggler design I made, like how much would that cost" and he's like sure here's the work and materials cost and tbh it's always always less than i think it's going to be. you just have to do some basic arithmetic and then order shipping, and I hate order fulfillment with my life but you can actually pay or barter with someone to do that for you too. learn to delegate and then factor that into your unit cost. this is basic shit every commercial creator needs to know. they should teach you this in art school but they dont

don't give me crap about "I can't afford a laser cutter" either because I just told you to email Keith. and all these machines get sold secondhand when a manufacturer or hobbyist needs to upgrade. i got a color laser printer perfect for making zines and wheatpastes and shipping labels from a retired lesbian on capital hill for $75 and it was still full of ink. my friend gave me her 20 year old canon dslr because she just didn't need it and didn't want to bother selling it. it works fine because I spent the time finding the right drivers and shit for my computer. and card readers exist. Craigslist. Facebook marketplace. nextdoor sales section. eBay. everyone always forgets eBay. eBay lets you save searches and will email you when it finds a guy selling his vinyl plotter in your city with local pickup. I'm serious

[dustyoo10]

>Giant underground living facility that can rebuild itself

>Most advanced artificial intelligence ever

>Technology can last for thousands of years

>Instantaneous local teleportation rift opening portable gun

>An inter-dimensional galaxy conquering armada is trying to figure out how you did it

>Complex bipedal robots

>Gels that defy the laws of physics

>Basically everything they make is sentient

>Able to transfer consciousness into machines

>Fortune built off selling SHOWER CURTAINS

>Constantly on the verge of bankruptcy yet still doing all this

>Loses military funding to the guys that shoot lasers at rocks and destroy the world

[ladybugmania]

The Lunatics’ Parade: 2025 — Twilight of the Absurd

In the House once bright, now dimmed with decay,

The Lunatics gathered at the end of the day.

Trump sat high on a throne of skulls,

Drinking Diet Coke from patriotic hulls.

He growled, “I’m chosen, I walk with the stars!”

Then misread the map and invaded Mars.

His cabinet danced to a banshee choir,

The smoke smelled like steak and executive fire.

JD Vance, Vice King of Hillbilly Hell,

Chanted slogans that rang like a Liberty Bell,

Cracked, confused, and wrapped in a flag,

Waving a torch while dragging a bag.

Rubio, the Floridian fish,

Spoke fluent evasion and granted no wish.

At State, he served diplomacy fried,

With a side of “thoughts and prayers” deep-fried.

Pete Hegseth, in camo and rage,

Declared war on books, and peace on the page.

With a bayonet pen and a helmet of lies,

He saluted the mirror with blood in his eyes.

Pam Bondi, Attorney of Doom,

Summoned subpoenas like witches in gloom.

She cross-examined ghosts and grilled thin air,

Then charged the moon with improper care.

Scott Bessent, at Treasury's gate,

Laughed while tossing coins into fate.

“Who needs math?” he asked the void.

As the dollar collapsed and Wall Street enjoyed.

Linda McMahon, the duchess of schools,

Taught “Critical Wrestling Theory” in pools.

Kids tapped out before they could read,

As she body-slammed teachers for sport and for creed.

RFK Jr., czar of the sick,

Fed vaccines to frogs with a mercury stick.

He cured the flu with lavender tears,

And called science a hoax for 73 years.

Tulsi, now whisperer of state secrets grim,

Broadcast mind-rays through every gym.

She blinked twice and satellites fell.

Then blamed it all on a gender reveal.

Duffy, Transport, paved the sky,

With TikTok lanes and jetpack pie.

No roads, no rules, just viral speed.

“Crash responsibly!” his only creed.

Brooke Rollins, in fields of ash,

Grew mutant corn with campaign cash.

Each stalk saluted, each ear did weep,

For deregulated soil that’ll never sleep.

Howard Lutnick, selling fate,

Traded ethics at a discount rate.

Commerce turned into a feast,

Where corporations dined on the Middle East.

Kristi Noem, Homeland’s queen,

Patrolled the plains with a killing machine.

She hunted threats both foreign and mild.

And shot her own shadow, then blamed a child.

Lee Zeldin, the smog baron bold,

Bottled fresh air and sold it as gold.

The EPA now stood for Everything Pollutes Always,

And rain came down in three-headed grays.

Kelly Loeffler, Small Biz, ran a scheme,

Where lemonade stands paid in Bitcoin dreams.

She smiled while taxing charity jars,

And built a Starbucks on Venus and Mars.

Ratcliffe, at CIA, watched with glee,

As pigeons turned spies for a nominal fee.

He tapped into dreams and rewrote the past.

Then tweeted classified info… fast.

Elon and Vivek, efficiency beasts,

Replaced Congress with AI priests.

The algorithms wept, the servers bled.

And democracy was quietly pronounced dead.

Stephen Miller, the hollow-eyed ghoul,

Wrote policies using virgin fossil fuel.

He whispered fear into the law,

And shaped it sharp with his demonic claw.

Susie Wiles, behind the veil,

Pulled strings like a sorceress pale.

Each move she made, a shadow would shift,

And the Earth would tilt, and the tides would lift.

And then she came, Marjorie Greene,

On a chariot made from a gym machine.

Draped in flags and CrossFit glory, Screaming,

“Demons run Congress! This is God’s story!”

She tossed books into holy flame,

While claiming Bigfoot knew her name. Laser-eyed and

Bible-armed, She stormed the stage, unvaccinated and charmed.

Last, Karoline Leavitt, voice of the throne,

Spoke in riddles, her heart a stone.

“Truth is treason,” she hissed with grace,

As her smile cracked wide across her face.

She briefed the press with puppets and flame,

Then blamed “the woke” for losing the game.

So Trump and his gang of Lunatics marched, flags aflame,

Waltzing through history with no sense of shame.

The night was their kingdom, the facts were all gone,

And satire died with the morning dawn.

So here’s to the cabinet, wild and unchained,

A circus of chaos, darkly ordained.

The nation watches, hands on their heads,

As the Lunatics’ Parade paints the town red.

The end.

[randomstar202]

Spin from the wheel of aus and tell me about one (pick one and freely ramble lmfaoo)

Hi, localcanadiancreature62! I got an ask about my Dippy Pines/Stanswap au a while ago, and now I am thernked, so, I’m going to try my best to infodump as much of the whole thing as possible!

 So, the canon divergence starts at the science fair. Instead of walking into the gym, Stan has his breakdown elsewhere. Unfortunately, the Perpetual Motion Machine is VERY FRAGILE and the tarp over the top was just enough to break it. Filbrick is extremely disappointed in Ford, and kicks him out. Stan was in a different room upstairs and sees Ford getting kicked out though the window. He gives Ford the Stanmobile, and almost jumps out the window to get to him, but Filbrick takes whatever stairway Canon Ford did to get to the window unrealistically fast and stops Stan from leaving with Ford. Filbrick tells Stan that he can take part of Ford's debt, if he takes Ford's role as the smart twin too. Stan studies really hard, for Ford, and starts getting better and better grades rapidly. Eventually he starts wearing his glasses again, too. People start confusing him with Ford, and they start calling him Stan-ford, to cover all their bases, as nobody can remember which twin it is anymore. Stan is very exasperated. It doesn’t help that Filbrick consistently calls Stan ‘Stanford’, because that’s the name he chose for his ‘real' son. 

When he gets to college, Backupsmore, of course, people also call him Stanford because that’s the name his father called him and the name on the paperwork. He meets Fiddleford and is thrilled when he finds out Fidds makes robots. Together, they make Footbot a reality. That’s not important, just funny. They also start a company and sell McGucket’s doohickeys. This money funds most of their research, because Stan got a very small grant, as he wasn’t working himself to the bone for his degree like Ford, just speedrunning it. Stan decides to study anomalies, because they reminded him of his brother, and his search for the perfect place to study them led him to the most concentrated location of anomalies in the country- Gravity Falls, Oregon. 

Meanwhile, Ford lives on the streets. He studies stuff in public libraries and earns his 12 degrees while working as a paid intern for Rico. Eventually, Ford finds out that Rico is using him, builds a sci-fi laser gun, and takes him off his pedestal. They part ways as reluctant allies, and Ford “I work alone” Pines becomes the infamous Six Fingered Phantom (think Portal Ford but in his twenties). Possibly I’ll call him the Polytergeist. Probably the first one, tho. Ford is very bitter and cuts himself off entirely from his family, judging his work too dangerous and also still mad at them. Ford keeps grudges for a LONG TIME. 

Meanwhile, Stan’s having the greatest, non-traumatized time of his life! :3 Crazy adventures with his bestie Fiddlesticks, punching gremloblins in the face, alien cows, the only thing that could make it better would be if Ford were there! And he found out that the town has a Law of Weirdness Magnetism that brings weird stuff to town, so it’s really only a matter of time until Ford shows up! And then he finds a cave, with paintings of a being with answers. Stan doesn’t really need those, and he’s got a magic mailbox if he ever does, but he accidentally says the incantation while trying to sound it out. Oops.😬 Fidds is very mad at Stan when he tells him, which he does immediately. Of course he’s gonna tell Fiddlenerd, why wouldn’t he? That night in his dreams, a pentagonal star with a southern accent who says his name is Giddy Gleeful shows up. Stan doesn’t really trust him, but Gid uses a combination of hypnosis and manipulation to get Stan to make a deal with him, convincing him that Ford will definitely show up to the scientific event of the century! (He probably would, actually, in disguise.) Fidds doesn’t show the Memory Gun to Stan because he knows that Stan would definitely not approve. At the portal test, he brings it up in his rambling, and Stan confronts him on it. He confesses, and tells Stan what he saw in the portal. Stan agrees to talk to Gid, and Fidds agrees to disband his cult. Fidds goes off, but Blind Ivan wipes him clean when he tries to get rid of the Society.

 Now Stan has his paranoia era. He uses the mailbox to send a postcard to Ford that says, ‘please come!’. It’s covered in blood, because I wasn’t sure if Ford would come without a reason to think it was a real emergency. So Ford shows up at the door. Cue mutual paranoid screaming! :D In the basement, Stan tells Ford that he had one last journal to hide, then they could get to work on getting rid of Bill. And then, maybe, they could get as far away from him as possible. Do you remember our childhood dream of sailing around the world on a boat? Ford blows up at Stan for thinking of ‘repairing relationships’ when the world is at stake! They fight, and Stan falls into the portal. Ford tries to reopen, relieved beyond words when all plans are in the book he has, but that relief quickly turns into frustration when he realizes the plans are only basic outlines, he doesn’t use the official terminology for anything, and half the book is illegible! (Stan’s good at building by filling in the blanks. It’s how I think he rebuilt the portal in canon.) Ford realizes that this is going to take a while. When he goes into town for food, Ford discovers that Stan also had used the anomalies in town to make a sort of tourist trap, which he now has to run. Luckily, nobody in town can remember whether his name was StanFORD or StanLEY, so Ford manages to pass himself off as Stan while going by Ford. 

30 years later, Ford’s gniblings (great niblings -the g is silent), Dippy and Bella Pines, come to stay the summer with him. Dippy is the overprotective older twin brother who wears blindingly bright colors and uses nineties slang when he gets agitated or excited, and Bella is the extremely reckless optimistic genius who wears unseasonably warm clothing and loves pushing the boundaries of science. Dippy takes the place of Mabel generally, but also is Dipper sometimes. Also, Ford has a rivalry with an eleven year old boy named Billy Cipher who runs a rival tourist trap that’s based off of the color yellow and has an Illuminacho with a top hat on everything. Ask me if you have any follow-up questions! 😃

[alexanderwales]

I started writing a Factorio/Worm fanfic, then decided that I don't remember enough about Worm. I know that this hasn't stopped many people in the past, but I guess I'm just built different.

The idea was that the Factorio engineer is a terrifying Tinker by the standards of Worm, and also either hates bugs or is callously indifferent to genocide when they interfere with the growth of the factory. And Earth doesn't have open deposits of coal, iron, and copper just sitting around, but it does have giant mounds of them sitting at transit depots, like the docks where Skitter's dad works. Plus the Factorio engineer canonically violates one of the most important rules in Worm: don't use guns. I think that's interesting/funny, because it means mowing down all those heroes who die to machine gun fire.

But as soon as I started thinking about who the PRT was going to send to deal with this, my enthusiasm immediately dropped. The thought of going to look on the wiki or reread Worm made me close the project entirely before it was even really started.

(The Factorio engineer, with a fully operational endgame factory, has shields powerful enough to stop a hit from a nuclear-powered locomotive, a swarm of construction robots that can slap down hundreds of gun turrets, laser turrets, flamethrowers, and mines, has long-distance artillery, cluster grenades, poison capsules, slow-down capsules, rocket launchers ... I don't remember Worm well enough to know which capes can no-sell him, but I can't imagine that it's all that many, depending on whether it's at properly constructed factory walls or out during an expedition. Plus if the engineer dies, he can just respawn, but I don't think I would take that to be a canonical power unless it was funny.)

[serxinns]

Scarlet which reader x Yandere mha extras: Badass darling

Requested by @roxanndrummond

(the reader has to be gn cause the scarlet which readerismeant to be gn for everyone)

Context: You and ur classmates were fighting a bunch of villains until you were surrounded by ca group of villains but you took them down with ease by going HAM on their asses doing swift kicks and punches to the nose doing your Kudo moves you learn from youth

•Your class is beyond AMAZED at this discovery the girls were squealing while the some of the boys were just cheering you on and Iida is best-selling at you to be careful and lecturing you about not being reckless

•Bakugo was yelling at you insults and compliments at the same time like "YEA NICE ONE DUMBASS" feeling very proud while Kirishima is just rambling about how many you are to the group Mina and Denki are hugging each other cheering for you to go go go and sero is silently watching in amazed

•Tsuyu is a bit worried don't get her wrong you are an amazing fighter in training and when it comes to the battlefield but she can't help but feel nervous so she asks Iida if he can come with him to slowly you down iida is just lecturing and complimenting you about not being reckless while secretly just fangirling about how amazing you are but won't ever admit it todoroki is just looking like he was watching those pro heroes fight the bad guys Ochako is like "Hell yeah kick ass mode!" and decided to join u as well floating the other villains towards you whole to make it easier for u to get to them!

•Jirou is also cheering at you with her first in the air saying "I believe in you y/n san!" while drilling two other villains' heads with her ear cords things (idk what they're called) Aoyama is just hyping you up saying "YASSSSSS" while blasting villains with his laser while Sato is planning what type of cake he should make for you while fighting the villains, Koda is worried that you might get hurt so he sends in some dangerous and protective animals just in case of things get nasty hakagure is just waving her arms cheering

•Keigo is just looking at you like a proud father he's so gonna brag about this to Aizawa when they get back while Miriko is just jumping around cheering and yelling repeating saying "THATS MY KID THATS MY FUCKING KID RIGHT THERE" showing off her fans about you they were so proud of you they couldn't wait to coddle you with love after this and your classmates just can't wait to celebrate it and cherish it meanless to say they're extremely proud of you

Aftermath

You panted checking to see if you defeated all the villains you looked around to see that all the villains were either on the floor with bruised-up bodies or broken machines you destroyed while fighting them suddenly your classmates started to tackle you cheering for you and holding you up you felt like you were in a crowd wave ton and tons of praises while you're just looking at them wondering wtf is going on Miriko is just holding you jumping you around in her arms while hawks ruffled you and tokoyami's head saying that he was both proud of you

[satancopilotsmytardis]

🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

I would be overjoyed to hear about Endeavor's Exciting Entertainment Emporium

I've been LIVING for the FNAF snippets ever since they manifested!!

Yay! Okay, so I am conceptualizing this as the coolest like Dave and Buster's, with a good mix of Bad Decisions from the Tales from the Pizzaplex.

Basic stuff out of the way: Help Desk, First-Aid Station, Security Station, Employee Rooms/Backstage, Bathrooms, Storage, Sanitation Equipment, Parts and Service, etc. Boring shit that has to exist because of course it does. Assume it's here.

Admission: The main area has ticket booths and turnstiles to get in. All guests over the age of 18 must be accompanied by a child (like Chuck E. Cheese rules), and all guests are given electronic wristbands. Parents/adults who paid for the tickets can then load up each band with tokens to be used instead of cash or cards inside the emporium. Every bracelet is also synced to storage lockers in the location, so if they want to put prizes, coats, or other personal belongings aside while they're engaging with any of the attractions, they can. The bands also have localized GPS, and can be tracked anywhere in the building, and will sound an alarm that triggers a staffbot to look into the situation if the bracelet tries to leave the building before the guardian has signed out on their phones. This is one of several safety features so parents can feel comfortable letting their kids run around unsupervised, with others including the ability to restrict what foods/prizes their children can receive, as well as update any allergies or medical conditions that can help staff and staffbots stay on top of things. Think Magic Bands but if they were designed by a helicopter parent.

Daycare: What it says on the tin. This area of for children under 10, that is somewhat cordoned off from the rest of the area to muffle noise and to block sightlines to some of the more elaborate places in the pizzeria so that the younger kids don't get jealous and try to sneak out.

Main Stage: Main stage and the main dining area. Shows are every 20 minutes and run for about half an hour. Unless rented out for a large party, anyone can wander in, tap their bands on the table, and order their food on a tablet, have it arrive, and enjoy a meal and a show with whatever animatronics are preforming at the time.

Eateries: Outside of the main stage area, there are other eateries all around the complex. From small food stalls that only sell one or two items, to more elaborate options, all of them use the wristbands to make purchases. Themed foods, of course, are the main staples.

Private Party Rooms: 4 in total, each one can comfortably hold 30 people. Rented out for birthday parties and other events.

Play Park: What it says on the tin, a big ol' indoor park with some massive slides and attendants who make sure that no one is trying to go up them or roughhousing on a tall structure. Padded floors, a big foam pit to play in, trampolines, jungle gym equipment, and the like. Perfect for getting all of that running around energy out. To go on the trampolines, bands must be pre-loaded with the parent's signature for the liability waiver.

Crafty Corner: The main arts and crafts area. It has stuff for people of just about all ages, including parents who can come in and hang out with their kids, making things. This is often also a draw for schools that want to bring students in for educational projects like paper mache volcanoes.

Arcade: This is one of the biggest sections in the building. Absolutely stuffed with the expected arcade cabinets, but also crane games and gotcha machines. Several larger AR games are here and, while technically a separate area, there is also a Laser Tag Arena essentially attached as well.

Theater: Straight up, they have a 2-screen movie theater. Set showtimes with family-friendly movies they change out according to what license they can snatch up next, and a shadow cast of robots that they dress up to act out the scenes alongside the show.

Parents' Lounge: This is what it says on the tin, it overlooks the main atrium so that parents can feel like they're keeping an eye out on their children and the vibes are more of a sports bar with TVs and higher-end food and drink, though they only serve two alcoholic drinks per patron per visit to avoid any intoxication in the premises. 

Gift Shops/Prize Counters: The largest of these is, of course, in the arcade, but there are smaller gift shops near the daycare and play park (which capitalizes on selling equipment appropriate socks for anyone who forgot they were required) and another large one in the main hall. All items can be purchased with pre-loaded tokens or through the tickets that can be accumulated by playing the games.

uh. yeah. anyway that's what I've got so far at the physical location.

[lasertechllc]

Laser Technology and Common Issues in Laser Machine

Laser equipment, used in industries ranging from manufacturing to health; represents the pinnacle of precise technology. These machines are as detailed as they are effective, combining tremendous power and tight control to cut, engrave, and modify materials with incredible precision. But what happens when a vital piece of technology fails? This blog digs into the unusual realm of laser machine…

[3dlaserbox]

From Pixels to Precision: A Creative Revolution Is Here

Ever wondered how simple photos are transformed into detailed 3D crystal masterpieces? The answer lies in cutting-edge 3D laser engraving software that’s reshaping creative industries across America.

Whether you're a designer, gifter, or engraving entrepreneur — this is something you can’t afford to miss.

Discover how technology is redefining creativity in ways you’ve never imagined.

Read the full blog here: https://medium.com/@3dlaserboxx/pixels-to-precision-how-3d-laser-engraving-software-is-redefining-creativity-in-america-8b6fe42d6719

[recurring-polynya]

Hey, pals! Weird Bleach mystery time!!

So, I was perusing the Bleach wiki, as is my wont, when I found this interesting tidbit on the Squad 4 page:

Members of the 4th Division are not allowed in the Human World.

which is cited as coming from Bleach manga; Volume 13, Chapter 111, end of chapter sketch. But when I looked it up, it's this:

It's Squad 4-related, obviously, but it doesn't say anything about the World of the Living. (My copy is the Viz version, and I also checked, ummmm, an online copy that I know of that has a slightly different translation and a compilation I found that someone had made of all the chapter sketches and they were all the same.)

This anecdote is mentioned in more detail under Iemura's entry:

In order to increase his handsomeness, Iemura searched Soul Society for contact lenses but was unable to find any. When he heard rumors of a renegade Shinigami selling contacts for Shinigami in the Human World, Iemura used his self-proclaimed fame and handsomeness to get around the ban on 4th Division members going to the Human World in order to find the contact lenses seller. When the rogue Shinigami instead offered him laser surgery using tiny beams of Reishi, Iemura thought it sounded too good to be true. Upon seeing the machine that performed the surgery, and noticing the dark eyeshadow on the Shinigami's face that resembled burn marks, he chickened out. Due to certain unspecified problems, he can no longer go to the Human World, leaving him wondering what would have happened if he had tried the surgery and if he would still be single.

This is sourced to the chapter sketches accompanying 109-112, which are literally all just Iemura complaining about his job and Squad 11 and Captain Kyouraku, it doesn't say anything about this shaggy dog contact lens story.

Does anyone know what gives? Is it possible that the chapter sketches got changed or moved around when the chapters were collected into a tankouban? It seems too big a difference to be blamed on translation error, but then again, the picture is just Iemura writing in his dumb journal, so maybe the text could have been changed. I feel like I have the vaguest memory of all this nonsense--maybe it got adapted into a Shinigami's Cup at some point??? I don't know!! I just wanted to know if Squad 4 was allowed to go to the WotL, like, if some shinigami got a neck injury on a mission and shouldn't be moved, but now I'm invested. I'm in too deep. someone who is good at Squad 4 trivia please help me out. my family is dying.

[goatsludge]

CTF Photonics CTF3 + Malkoff E1HTv2 and Z-Bolt Blazer IR Heads

A follow-up to the previous post, this unit officially belongs to @bureau-of-mines' AK build and figured I'd give my own more thorough early impressions on it so far - despite the presence of other devices hitting the market around the same time and price bracket as this, I still feel like the CTF3 has a niche of its own to fill.

The key selling point to this unit is its modularity - in lieu of an onboard IR illuminator, the CTF3 features effectively two 3V Scout Flashlight bodies machined into the laser body that sit saddleback on either side of the top rail. This allows you to interchange whatever IR or white light heads you need for your specific setup.

The fire buttons are surprisingly easy to reach despite the protruding battery caps; the center button being laser only and the smaller left and right buttons activating both the laser and the corresponding light body.

Sadly this means your IR laser will be activated when using the white light, and there's also no constant-on function for the light bodies, but such is life.

In my opinion, the greatest benefit of the CTF3 is its low profile - this really is the perfect laser for an AK or other rifle that force you to use lower-mounted optics. It fills the same niche as the 3EIR DIR Series, except it's more modular, made of higher quality materials, asks roughly half the cost (as far as a base unit without heads), and eliminates a separate white light setup, keeping the overall cost of accessories down.

Obviously, you also lose a remote cable port, vis laser, power output controls, the ability to co-align the illuminator with the laser dot, and divergence control is greatly limited as well (unless you get an IR Blazer Head), but you get the benefit of having less integral components to fail within the laser body itself.

Although I have a massive bias to ancient laser boxes, the CTF3 is a very cool unit and I love how it works on "westernized" AK setups (though how well it handles 7.62x39 is yet to be determined). Love to see more from CTF going forwards.

Also giving @avtomatkalashnikova a tag since he was interested in this setup as well.

[tenderfate]

★  ‧₊˚  ⋆  lucy  liu.  cis  woman.  she/her  …  now  playing:  got  to  be  real  by  cheryl  lynn  —  oh  ,  that  ?   might  be  natalie  quan  ,  an  forty  five  old  owner  &  hair  stylist  @  miss  glamourpuss  who’s  been  hanging  around  wicklow  ridge  for  sixteen  years  ,  just  long  enough  to  stir  up  some  trouble  if  you  ask  me.  they’re  a  regular  at  maple  &  main  ,  always  going  on  about  “i'm  not  judging,  i  just  have  eyes,”  like  it’s  gospel.  around  town  ,  folks  say  they’re  chic  &  nonjudgmental  —  but  when  they  think  no  one’s  listening  ?  it’s  more  like  vain  &  abrasive.  are  the  rumors  true  ?  maybe  not  …  but  it  sure  makes  life  around  here  a  little  more  interesting.

(  💄  )    ⸻   statistics

introducing natalie joy quan

birthdate + place﹚ 26 july 1980 + henderson, nevada ... basically vegas.

zodiac big three﹚ leo sun, scorpio moon, sagittarius rising.

moral alignment﹚ chaotic good.

current residence﹚ retro-fitted double-wide trailer turned unapologetic glam den. like yes she painted it a mauve-pink and yes she has a lipstick tube mailbox and yes there are two plastic flamingos out front. lives with a really old chocolate lab she calls moose and a siamaese cat called frankie. they're besties.

sexual orientation﹚ bisexual.

education level﹚ high school diploma; cosmetology license.

distinguishing characteristics﹚many, many tattoos. faded tiny ones on her hands: a bunch of sparkles & stars on her fingers, 'lucky' across the side of her hand like a casino brand, hearts on her thumb pads. a tramp stamp probably, giant butterfly on her back that covers a name she got lasered off (fuck you roach!!!!). tattooed garter. scars from piercings she used to have: monroe, anti-eyebrow, back dimples, belly ring, nose.

aesthetic﹚ the hiss of a way-too-old leopard-print straightener, the snap of bubblegum, the cold bite of gold hoops earrings when she hugs you cheek-to-cheek, drugstore everything, early 2000s r&b, scissors slicing through dead ends and the occasional “babe, i’m just gonna say it. he’s ugly," unsolicited advice, a purse full of receipts, candy wrappers, and tiny perfume samples she will never throw out, the clack-clack-clack of her press-ons as she types aggressively on a phone with a cracked screen, her laugh, loud and barky.

inspiration(s)﹚ that weird jlo stripper movie that was like only kinda good bc keke palmer was in it for 9 seconds (hustlers), veronica from shameless, fran fine meets y2k meets budget samantha jones if she only wore like hot pink, black, and deep purples.

pin board﹚click over here.

(  💄  )    ⸻   background

natalie's parents are ......... lizzy & matthew. both barely legal, barely sober, but fully in love. they honeymooned at a casino buffet and swore they'd make it work. the luster wore off when little nat was still teething, and matthew bailed overnight. took the car and left a note that said 'don't wait up'. and liz, she unraveled like a loose thread. found god in slot machines and a string of sleazy men. so natalie grew up in between motels and sad apartments- plastic blinds, weird stain on the carpet, the sound of someone else's fight through the wall. settled down in a trailer park somewhere down the way. her (half) sister jenny was born there a couple odd years after, soft-voiced and dreamy. natalie raised her as well as she did her mom, cutting off the crusts from her toast, giving her tampons in gas station bathrooms, telling her how to lie to cps. they shared a twin mattress for like, way too long.

natalie juggled three jobs as soon as she could: waitress, babysitter, off-the-books nail tech. just to help pay the bills and for jenny's school lunches. in between came roach. his real name was justin roarke but no one called him that. he was in the grade above her and drove a camaro with no muffler (which he also used to sell weed out of- how the pair met, coincidentally). they were REALLY in love but it was toxic. on and off and on again, 14 times to be specific. after high school, he'd up and gotten some gig as a door guy with a clipboard at this strip club off of the vegas strip, ditched the weed gig for good and begged natalie to move in with him. told her he'd gotten in good with the owner & could 'make something real out of it' soon. for her, and them.

and so she did! move in with him, that is. left with jenny in tow too, & they were their own fucked up little family. eventually he convinced her to start stripping there too- something about them being a girl short, swore up and down that he'd watch out for her, that he hated seeing her wear herself thin between a revolving door of jobs and naps between shifts. and so ... she did! it was ... seedier than he led on but this was ROACH she was talking about. her knight in shining armor. sure the pole squeaked ... and some of the mirrors were cracked but she stayed.

tw. mention of addiction﹚and stayed and stayed and stayed. first it was because she wanted to save up for her first year at college. then because her mom's gambling debt caught up to her & nat couldn't not help her with it. then it was for the strange sisterhood she found there (the single mom who could split like a cheerleader. the twin sisters with matching wigs. sugar, her favorite, who made her grilled cheese after bad nights). and because she kinda (really) got hooked on oxy after a sprained ankle and sugar was the only one who knew where to get it for cheap.

by 26, natalie had become the club’s unofficial glue. booked parties, trained new girls, fixed beefs before they exploded. house of venus had ballooned from a flickering neon dive to a full-blown vegas establishment. gold-plated poles, velvet booths, a liquor license, a myspace page (glitter gifs, cute lil layout, custom html- thanks nat), a revolving cast of dancers, bartenders, and bouncers. roach had even climbed from clipboard guy to back office fixer. never on paper, but everyone knew. vince, the real owner, treated him like a pet project. roach had a coke problem, a sports betting streak, and that quiet panic of almost having made it. when vince started bleeding money during a slump, roach saw an opportunity. he’d been skimming for years. a hundred here, a couple grand there. now he had a plan. fake a robbery. blame it on rival club beef. two guys he knew, dumb and greedy, would hit house of venus on a slow sunday. scare the girls, rough up a bartender, take just enough to look real. then insurance money. clean slate.

tw. mention of robbery & blood﹚except it went sideways. one of the dancers, trinity, got pistol-whipped. natalie, working that night, tried to step in. she got shoved into the corner of the dj booth and cracked a rib. blood in her mouth. ringing in her ears. roach wasn’t even there. security missed it. vince was livid. one of the guys got picked up a week later and folded instantly. gave up roach for a lighter sentence. and roach? he named natalie as an accomplice. said she helped plan it. said she was in on the insurance angle. and, to her luck (or incredible lack thereof) she had a record. petty drug charges, expired license, enough junk mail stacked against her to make it stick. they gave her a deal. she took it. eighteen months. county, then state.

when she got out, she had only one place to go: wicklow ridge, vermont!! jenny had moved there a few years back with her daughter, ivy, chasing stillness. or at least a decent school district and a place where the landlord didn’t text after midnight. so she moved in. slept on the couch again, like old times. ivy was five and only a little scared of her. jenny taught art at the middle school and lived in a rented bungalow with creaky floors and way too many mugs.

tw. mention of death﹚she kept her head down. got a job at a tiny salon called hair it is, sweeping up clippings and washing color bowls for a woman named belinda who smelled like menthols and lavender. got her cosmetology license at the local tech college. passed with flying colors. belinda died of a heart attack mid perm one summer and natalie bought the place off her son for a steal. painted the walls bubblegum pink and gold. renamed it miss glamourpuss because she thought it was funny, and also because roach had once refused to let her use it as her stripper name.

now's a couple odd years later & miss glamourpuss has expanded- nails, hair, full face glam. prom girls, bachelorettes, divorce makeovers, ski wives who want balayage before hitting the slopes.. she wears hoops and hot pink smocks and she knows everyone’s business, but mostly keeps it to herself. pays her taxes now. brings jello salad to block parties. hosts drag bingo in the off-season. ivy’s in high school and calls her nat-nat and borrows her lipstick. all three of them regulars at maple & main.

(  💄  )    ⸻   personality / fun facts

chic﹚glam is gospel!!! her stripping days made her very scrappy chic, in that she can turn clearance rack finds into something else entirely. but also she thinks tacky and elegant are synonyms so take it with a grain of salt when she walks out in a hot pink tracksuit or a leopard print robe with slipper heels. she can tie a silk scarf twelve different ways, can clock a knockoff handbag from across the parking lot, and always smells like drugstore vanilla and designer dupes.

nonjudgmental﹚natalie’s lived too much life to raise an eyebrow at anyone else’s. ex-stripper, ex-jailbird, ex-everything- she’s heard it all, seen worse, and probably done worse, too. and yes she has a framed picture of her mugshot somewhere in her office. natalie might poke fun, psychoanalyze you for funsies, or ask twelve inappropriate follow-up questions- but she means well. her chair at the salon is therapy-adjacent: everyone gets 45 minutes of unsolicited wisdom, not judgment.she just can't stand snobs. she’s an equal-opportunity gossip but she'll defend someone who's being dragged unfairly: “don’t slut-shame rhonda just ‘cause you’re boring, donna.”

vain﹚very concerned with and self-aware about her looks. despite her loyalty to drugstore products, she's got a skincare cabinet that costs more than all of the insurances she has combined, has a mini ring light clipped to her rearview mirror and once got pulled over for it, always has chewing gum, a tiny bottle of hairspray, and two kinds of blush in her purse.

abrasive﹚does NOT mince words, especially when she should. she had a hard time building a clientele early on because she just kept on saying out of pocket shit like "yeah he's definitely cheating on you," or "you know coral is really not your color." her voice carries, especially when she's fired up, and she's got a barky laugh that punctuates even her mean jokes. always has a smartass response like no one ever told her to shut up. very much a tough love in between snaps of her gum kind of girl.