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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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“That Makes Me Smart”

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth

The Biden administration disappointed, frustrated and enraged in so many ways, including abetting a genocide – but one consistent bright spot over the past four years was the unseen-for-generations frontal assault on corporate power and corporate corruption.

The three words that define this battle above all others are "unfair and deceptive" – words that appear in Section 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act and other legislation modeled on it, like USC40 Section 41712(a), which gives the Department of Transportation the power to ban "unfair and deceptive" practices as well:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

When Congress created an agency to punish "unfair and deceptive" conduct, they were saying to the American people, "You have a right not to be cheated." While this may sound obvious, it's hardly how the world works.

To get a sense of how many ripoffs are part of our daily lives, let's take a little tour of the ways that the FTC and other agencies have used the "unfair and deceptive" standard to defend you over the past four years. Take Amazon Prime: Amazon executives emailed one another, openly admitting that in their user tests, the public was consistently fooled by Amazon's "get free shipping with Prime" dialog boxes, thinking they were signing up for free shipping and not understanding that they were actually signing up to send the company $140/year. They had tested other versions of the signup workflow that users were able to correctly interpret, but they decided to go with the confusing version because it made them more money:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/05/amazon-execs-may-be-personally-liable-for-tricking-users-into-prime-sign-ups/

Getting you signed up for Prime isn't just a matter of taking $140 out of your pocket once – because while Amazon has produced a greased slide that whisks you into a recurring Prime subscription, the process for canceling that recurring payment is more like a greased pole you must climb to escape the Prime pit. This is typical of many services, where signing up happens in a couple clicks, but canceling is a Kafkaesque nightmare. The FTC decided that this was an "unfair and deceptive" business practice and used its authority to create a "Click to Cancel" rule that says businesses have to make it as easy to cancel a recurring payment as it was to sign up for it:

https://www.theregister.com/2023/07/12/ftc_cancel_subscriptions/

Once businesses have you locked in, they also spy on you, ingesting masses of commercial surveillance data that you "consented" to by buying a car, or clicking to a website, or installing an app, or just physically existing in space. They use this to implement "surveillance pricing," raising prices based on their estimation of your desperation. Uber got caught doing this a decade ago, raising the price of taxi rides for users whose batteries were about to die, but these days, everyone's in on the game. For example, McDonald's has invested in a company that spies on your finances to determine when your payday is, and then raises the price of your usual breakfast sandwich by a dollar the day you get paid:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Everything about this is "unfair and deceptive" – from switching prices the second you click into the store to the sham of consent that consists of, say, picking up your tickets to a show and being ordered to download an app that comes with 20,000 words of terms and conditions that allows the company that sends you a QR code to spy on you for the rest of your life in any way they can and sell the data to anyone who'll buy it.

As bad as it is to be trapped in an abusive relationship as a shopper, it's a million times worse to be trapped as a worker. One in 18 American workers is under a noncompete "agreement" that makes it illegal for you to change jobs and work for someone else in the same industry. The vast majority of these workers are in low-waged food-service jobs. The primary use of the American noncompete is to stop the cashier at Wendy's from getting an extra $0.25/hour by taking a job at McDonald's.

Noncompetes are shrouded in a fog of easily dispelled bossly bullshit: claims that noncompetes raise wages (empirically, this is untrue), or that they enable "IP"-intensive industries to grow by protecting their trade secrets. This claim is such bullshit: you can tell by the fact that noncompetes are banned under California's state constitution and yet the most IP-intensive industries have attracted hundreds of billions – if not trillions – in investment capital even though none of their workforce can be bound under a noncompete. The FTC's order banning noncompetes for every worker in America simply brings the labor regime that created Silicon Valley and Hollywood to the rest of the country:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Noncompetes aren't the only "unfair and deceptive" practice used against American workers. The past decade has seen the rise of private equity consolidation in several low-waged industries, like pet grooming. The new owners of every pet grooming salon within 20 miles of your house haven't just slashed workers' wages, they've also cooked up a scheme that lets them charge workers thousands of dollars if they quit these shitty jobs. This scheme is called a "training repayment agreement provision" (TRAP!): workers who are TRAPped at Petsmart are made to work doing menial jobs like sweeping up the floor for three to four weeks. Petsmart calls this "training," and values it at $5,500. If you quit your pet grooming job in the next two years, you legally owe PetSmart $5,500 to "repay" them for the training:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/04/its-a-trap/#a-little-on-the-nose

Workers are also subjected to "unfair and deceptive" bossware: "AI" tools sold to bosses that claim they can sort good workers from bad, but actually serve as random-number generators that penalize workers in arbitrary, life-destroying ways:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/26/hawtch-hawtch/#you-treasure-what-you-measure

Some of the most "unfair and deceptive" conduct we endure happens in shadowy corners of industry, where obscure middlemen help consolidated industries raise prices and pick your pocket. All the meat you buy in the grocery store comes from a cartel of processing and packing companies that all subscribe to the same "price consulting" services that tells them how to coordinate across-the-board price rises (tell me again how greedflation isn't a thing?):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

It's not just food, it's all of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Take shelter: the highly consolidated landlord industry uses apps like Realpage to coordinate rental price hikes, turning the housing crisis into a housing emergency:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/24/gouging-the-all-seeing-eye/#i-spy

And of course, health is the most "unfair and deceptive" industry of all. Useless middlemen like "Pharmacy Benefit Managers" ("a spreadsheet with political power" -Matt Stoller) coordinate massive price-hikes in the drugs you need to stay alive, which is why Americans pay substantially more for medicine than anyone else in the world, even as the US government spends more than any other to fund pharma research, using public money:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

It's not just drugs: every piece of equipment – think hospital beds and nuclear medicine machines – as well as all the consumables – from bandages to saline – at your local hospital runs through a cartel of "Group Purchasing Organizations" that do for hospital equipment what PBMs do for medicine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/27/lethal-dysfunction/#luxury-bones

For the past four years, we've lived in an America where a substantial portion of the administrative state went to war every day to stamp out unfair and deceptive practices. It's still happening: yesterday, the CFPB (which Musk has vowed to shut down) proposed a new rule that would ban the entire data brokerage industry, who nonconsensually harvest information about every American, and package it up into categories like "teenagers from red states seeking abortions" and "military service personnel with gambling habits" and "seniors with dementia" and sell this to marketers, stalkers, foreign governments and anyone else with a credit-card:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/cfpb-proposes-rule-to-stop-data-brokers-from-selling-sensitive-personal-data-to-scammers-stalkers-and-spies/

And on the same day, the FTC banned the location brokers who spy on your every movement and sell your past and present location, again, to marketers, stalkers, foreign governments and anyone with a credit card:

https://www.404media.co/ftc-bans-location-data-company-that-powers-the-surveillance-ecosystem/

These are tantalizing previews of a better life for every American, one in which the rule is, "play fair." That's not the world that Trump and his allies want to build. Their motto isn't "cheaters never prosper" – it's "caveat emptor," let the buyer beware.

Remember the 2016 debate where Clinton accused Trump of cheating on his taxes and he admitted to it, saying "That makes me smart?" Trumpism is the movement of "that makes me smart" life, where if you get scammed, that's your own damned fault. Sorry, loser, you lost.

Nowhere do you see this more than in cryptocurrencyland, so it's not a coincidence that tens – perhaps hundreds – in dark crypto money was flushed into the election, first to overpower Democratic primaries and kick out Dem legislators who'd used their power to fight the "unfair and deceptive" crowd:

https://www.politico.com/newsletters/california-playbook-pm/2024/02/13/crypto-comes-for-katie-porter-00141261

And then to fight Dems across the board (even the Dems whose primary victories were funded by dark crypto money) and elect the GOP as the party of "caveat emptor"/"that makes me smart":

https://www.coindesk.com/news-analysis/2024/12/02/crypto-cash-fueled-53-members-of-the-next-u-s-congress

Crypto epitomizes the caveat emptor economy. By design, fraudulent crypto transactions can't be reversed. If you get suckered, that's canonically a you problem. And boy oh boy, do crypto users get suckered (including and especially those who buy Trump's shitcoins):

https://www.web3isgoinggreat.com/

And for crypto users who get ripped off because they've parked their "money" in an online wallet, there's no sympathy, just "not your keys, not your coins":

https://www.ledger.com/academy/not-your-keys-not-your-coins-why-it-matters

A cornerstone of the "unfair and deceptive" world is that only suckers – that is, outsiders, marks and little people – have to endure consequences when they get rooked. When insiders get ripped off, all principle is jettisoned. So it's not surprising that when crypto insiders got taken for millions the first time they created a DAO, they tore up all the rules of the crypto world and gave themselves the mulligan that none of the rest of us are entitled to in cryptoland:

https://blog.ethereum.org/2016/07/20/hard-fork-completed

Where you find crypto, you find Elon Musk, the guy who epitomizes caveat emptor thinking. This is a guy who has lied to drivers to get them to buy Teslas by promising "full self driving in one year," every year, since 2015:

https://www.consumerreports.org/cars/autonomous-driving/timeline-of-tesla-self-driving-aspirations-a9686689375/

Musk told investors that he had a "prototype" autonomous robot that could replace their workers, then demoed a guy in a robot suit, pretending to be a robot:

https://gizmodo.com/elon-musk-unveils-his-funniest-vaporware-yet-1847523016

Then Musk did it again, two years later, demoing a remote-control robot while lying and claiming that it was autonomous:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/14/tesla-optimus-bots-were-controlled-by-humans-during-the-we-robot-event

This is entirely typical of the AI sector, in which "AIs" are revealed, over and over, to be low-waged workers pretending to be robots, so much so that Indian tech industry insiders joke that "AI" stands for "Absent Indians":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Musk's view is that he's not a liar, merely a teller of premature truths. Autonomous cars and robots are just around the corner (just like the chatbots that can do your job, and not merely convince your boss to fire you while failing to do your job). He's not tricking you, he's just faking it until he makes it. It's not a scam, it's inspirational. Of course, if he's wrong and you are scammed, well, that's a you problem. Caveat emptor. That makes him smart.

Musk does this all the time. Take the Twitter blue tick, originally conceived of as a way to keep Twitter users from being scammed ("unfair and deceptive") by con artists pretending to be famous people. Musk's inaugural act at Twitter was to take away blue ticks from verified users and sell them to anyone who'd pay $8/month. Almost no one coughed up for this – the main exception being scammers, who used their purchased, unverified blue ticks to steal from Twitter users ("that makes me smart").

As Twitter hemorrhaged advertising revenue and Musk became increasingly desperate to materialize an army of $8/month paid subscribers, he pulled another scam: he nonconsensually applied blue ticks to prominent accounts, in a bid to trick normies into thinking that widely read people valued blue ticks so much they were paying for them out of their own pockets:

https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-65365366

If you were tricked into buying a blue tick on this pretense, well, caveat emptor. Besides, it's not a lie, it's a premature truth. Someday all those widely read users with nonconsensual blue ticks will surely value them so highly that they do start to pay for them. And if they don't? Well, Musk got your $8: "that makes me smart."

Scammers will always tell you that they're not lying to you, merely telling premature truths. Sam Bankman-Fried's defenders will tell you that he didn't actually steal all those billions. He gambled them on a bet that (sorta-kinda) paid off. Eventually, he was able to make all his victims (sorta-kinda) whole, so it's not even a theft:

https://www.cnn.com/2024/05/08/business/ftx-bankruptcy-plan-repay-creditors/index.html

Likewise, Tether, a "stablecoin" that was unable to pass an audit for many years as it issued unbacked, unregulated securities while lying and saying that for every dollar they minted, they had a dollar in reserves. Tether now (maybe) has reserves to equal its outstanding coins, so obviously all those years where they made false claims, they weren't lying, merely telling a premature truth:

https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/cryptocriticscorner/episodes/Tether-wins–Skeptics-lose-the-end-of-an-era-e2rhf5e

If Tether had failed a margin call during those years and you'd lost everything, well, caveat emptor. The Tether insiders were always insulated from that risk, and that's all that matters: "that makes me smart."

When I think about the next four years, this is how I frame it: the victory of "that makes me smart" over "fairness and truth."

For years, progressives have pointed out the right's hypocrisy, despite that fact that Americans have been conditioned to be so cynical that even the rankest hypocrisy doesn't register. But "caveat emptor?" That isn't just someone else's bad belief or low ethics: it's the way that your life is materially, significantly worsened. The Biden administration – divided between corporate Dems and the Warren/Sanders wing that went to war on "unfair and deceptive" – was ashamed and nearly silent on its groundbreaking work fighting for fairness and honesty. That was a titanic mistake.

Americans may not care about hypocrisy, but they really care about being stolen from. No one wants to be a sucker.

#tether #ftx #scams #trumpism #caveat emptor #cryptocurrency #twitter #sleaze #premature truths #bossware #pluralistic

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toast-in-a-cowboy-hat · 2 months ago

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Havent caught back up yet but this is my general understanding of this seasons Theme

I may have gone a little overboard here, I started out intending to make a simple little poster but well. an Event Occurred. and here we are

Anyway, here some stills and full images

I made all this with screenshots, stock images, and the W.BG fonts

Please appreciate my 'W.B1G1' discount code, I think I'm very funny

———

While they didn't all make it to the final video, these are the "Product Photos" I had

Top to bottom, left to right its intended to Edgar or Edman, Marissa, Ty ( although that ones not particular ), Outlaw, Sly, and then Michael, just in case its not very clear

Also wanted these to have the vibes that they were not aware they're being photographed, which hopefully they do, idk

———

This is the full list of "Product Options"

I intentionally didn't use proper character names to try to give more of a dehumanizing effect.

———

Fun fact! I dont know how to do video edits so all the movement that's not the timer or the glitches was just me manually moving and saving everything, which I guess just leaves the cursor and options list, so Those Things.

It took 200+ frames so if it looks a little janky, that's why!

———

End bluescreens

That QR code just leads back to my Tumblr, though I doubt many people will scan it lol

And that's all I really have to say about this, hope y'all like it, but even if not, I had fun making it either way

#Did i make this instead of studying for upcoming finals? yes #should i have done that? no #did i do it anyway? indeed 😌#woe.begone #w.bg #woe begone #wbg #woe.begone spoilers #w.bg spoilers

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2-dsimp · 8 months ago

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D͟͟͟͞͞͞A͟͟͟͞͞͞R͟͟͟͞͞͞L͟͟͟͞͞͞I͟͟͟͞͞͞N͟͟͟͞͞͞G͟͟͟͞͞͞ C͟͟͟͞͞͞A͟͟͟͞͞͞F͟͟͟͞͞͞E͟͟͟͞͞͞: F͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞t͟͟͟͞͞͞u͟͟͟͞͞͞r͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞g͟͟͟͞͞͞ t͟͟͟͞͞͞h͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞ Y͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞d͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞r͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞ V͟͟͟͞͞͞I͟͟͟͞͞͞P͟͟͟͞͞͞ O͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞ P͟͟͟͞͞͞o͟͟͟͞͞͞l͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞c͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞m͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞

“So that’s it? All I need to do is just sign the NDA? And I can start working at the Darling cafe? There’s no need for my job interview at all?” You asked, in an apprehensive manner. Looking down at the sheet of paper which was placed in front of you by the smiley masked man who went by the name of Smiles.

“Yup! No need for a job interview or anything remotely tedious! You’ve already been approved by me, the head honcho of this particular Darling cafe branch. So there’s no need.” Your soon-to-be boss sounded off with a humorous tone in his airy voice that wasn’t muffled behind the mask. He merely spun a pen between his gloved fingers as if he was on autopilot. His other hand propping up his chin as he stared at you from his eye holes.

“All I require is for you to work wholeheartedly as a fine Darling in our establishment! Simple enough yeah?” He added, his tone carefree as he then leaned back within his office chair. His legs were crossed, while his arms moved to the back of his head.

This was your golden ticket out of debt! Your father being the deadbeat he was shifted all his debt onto you. His eldest child so that he could live Scot free and mooching off of the poor souls he swindled out of their money. To spend on drinking and gambling.

“Wow that’s great! You know I’ve heard some rumors about this place.” Smiles, stilled his eyes growing dark. He then inched forward from his lax position to hunch over the office table like a brooding old man. “Hah? What rumors did you hear sweetheart? Nothing strange right?”

“No, not at all! I’ve only been hearing good things about how the Darlings get paid generously. And even get healthcare benefits as well. I just wanted to fact check if that was true if that’s alright?” You rambled sheepishly, you had hoped that the rumors were true. You needed all the grace you could get with the shitty situation you’ve been held captive in.

After working many part time jobs that only paid minimum wage. You couldn’t help but be frustrated at how little of a dent you’ve made in getting your father’s debt off your shoulders. So it made you desperate to find any kind of job that would provide you the leverage you need to save yourself from potentially being sold off as collateral by the loan sharks.

“Oh that’s what you meant by rumors, haha! Yes you’ll be paid generously! As hazard pay will also be included.” You blinked at his words, hazard pay? What could be so hazardous working at a cutesy cafe of all things? You wanted to ask a question about it only for him to brush it off with an air of nonchalance.

“Don’t worry about that tibit too much it’s just a precaution per se. Since we cherish our Darlings dearly.” Smiley said with a serious undertone, while he had leaned back in his rolly chair to pull out a drawer to retrieve two stamps. Setting one onto the table next to you while he held the other in his grasp.

“Now to wrap things up, all I need you to do is sign the dotted line and then stamp yourself. Any part of the body will be fine.” He instructed, absentmindedly loosening up his tie. As if the mask he was wearing was making him feel a bit heated.

“Um stamp myself? As in just me and not the paper itself?” You asked dumbly, taking ahold of the stamp. It smelled alluringly sweet from the ink it was coated in. But the stamp mark would just wear off right? So what was the point?—

“It won’t wash off, it’s permanent. If that was what you’re wondering about dear.” Smiley, hummed pulling down his arm sleeve to reveal his stamp mark. It was a small QR code imprint on his inner wrist. “Let’s just say that It’s a safety measure we take to have your identity registered in our employee system. As lots of rats try to impersonate our workers/patrons or sneak in uninvited.”

That statement unnerved you a bit, but you didn’t have any time to waste. With determined hands you stamped yourself on the body part of your choosing. And steadily signed the dotted line completely missing how Smiles eyes had glowed faintly behind the holes of his mask.

His grip on the helm of the stamp he had splintered from the bubbling joy he felt at nabbing yet another prospective darling under his wing. The masked man could practically taste the sweet victory on his tongue. from beating his petty associate in a bet for whoever could pull in the most Darlings for their Yandere patrons.

“Well it’s been a pleasure. Welcome to the team Darling! Now let’s get you all prepped and ready for your debut to our lovely Patrons I’m sure you’d be a popular choice. ”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

“Alrighty Mister Koori, your Yandere Patron ID is all set for the Darling cafe!” Chimed the Helper at the front desk, they were neither a darling nor a fellow Yandere patron and seemed to be a working third party between the two factions within the Darling cafe. “Thank you for taking the time to fill out the questionnaires, it’s just to make sure your profile is 100% accurate for future darling match making.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

The Helper hummed, tapping away at the service patron screen. Glancing up at the giant Oni man, who was a whooping 10 feet tall. Making everything dwarfed from his size, where he had to duck his head to avoid his horns from scraping against the top of the front door entrance. “And seeing as you’ve invested in becoming a VIP member of ours would you like to see the latest edition of Darlings within our fine establishment?”

“…”

Wordlessly the Water Oni extended his huge calloused hand towards the attendant. Waiting for the catalog to be placed within his grasp his face remaining blank. Though his frosty eyes betrayed his nonchalance with a glimmer of interest.

“None of these will do.”

Shimo, grumbled underneath his tusks. Scanning over the catalog over trying to find someone who’d be the calm to his brewing storm. The only reason he even invested his time in coming out here. Despite his distaste for being in a public crowded setting.

Was because of his police patrol partner, Naan’s recommendation of the Darling cafe. Singing it high praise reviews of how the cafe helped them to successfully capture their own lover.

“Well sir how about you take a look at the exclusive selection for our VIP guests. I’m assuming you’re looking for the sunshine type of Darling, yes?” The Helper guessed and Shimo merely nodded truthfully. Liking how observant the worker was saving him from any needless chatter about what he was searching for.

The previous darlings on the public catalog looked so bland in his eyes. The Policeman wanted a darling who’d be his ray of sunshine on a rainy day. An optimistic type if you will, as it’ll complement against his cynical outlook on society. Thanks to his tireless job of catching felons and menaces to society for a living.

“This one…I want them to serve me.”

Shimo said softly, his claw tapping at your portrait within the exclusive catalog. Where your profile appeared underneath the Newbie Darlings listings. He admired the way you were so cute in the picture. Hair all messy with a sheepish smile on your lips, you looked as if you walked into a gust of wind which knocked you off kilter. And it was no doubt your newbie appearance that attracted him.

“Hoh? You’ve got a good eye! Luckily that darling has just been recruited to be working with us today on opening night. I’ll be sure to schedule the both of you to meet immediately” The rapid typing from the Helper alongside a sound ping coming from Shimo phone. Indicated that the date had been set for 9pm, right around where his shift would end.

With a chuff of satisfaction he tipped his hat towards the Helper and sauntered off ducking once more underneath the door frame. His cold heart thrumming with heat from the thought of being able to meet his prospective darling in just a couple hours.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

[9:00pm Opening night of the Darling Cafe]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

The whistling bells from the door rang as a familiar giant figure slouched his way through the small entrance. Shimo, was dressed in a traditional Oni garb, of exotic divine beast furs, his iron club situated right upon the strap of his waist.

He already had a look of annoyance at hearing how chatty everyone was in the cafe. Dreading jam packed spaces as he was easily prone to anger given his temperament. Nonetheless, the blue oni was guided by the Helper who greeted him politely. Making way for the VIP section where the ogre was pleasantly surprised with how spacious and quaint the area was.

“Mister Koori, here is your VIP seating section. So whenever you come in you can just waltz on in here and get comfortable without needing to wait in line” They had booths tailored for Yandere Patrons of all shapes in sizes. Ranging from the Giant plus section for the bigger customers. And fairy sized section for the smaller ones.

The Helper then checked his watch. His eyes fixated on the moving hands before he grew a faint smile. “Well mister Koori the Newbie Darling you’ve requested will be arriving shortly! Just tap this button if you need my assistance or have any questions.”

With a polite bow the Helper waltzed away back to his station at the front desk leaving Shimo to his thoughts. But it wasn’t long until his train of thought derailed at feeling a cold splash on his attire alongside a faint presence falling against him. He blinked slowly, veins popping out one by one as his tusks grew in pure agitation. He was about to put his iron club to good use.

That is until he heard your apologetic frantic voice drowning in his ears like a pleasant water stream. His chilled glare softened seeing the newbie Darling he’d handpicked himself. Situated between his thighs clutching onto the server platter. Their outfit also covered in the daiquiri slush.

“I’m so sorry! Oh no your exotic furs— My god they look like they cost more than my life, Just give me a moment I’ll wash them myself ASAP—”

Your floundering made his lips twitch upwards a bit in a slight smile. He didn’t look like it but he did enjoy fucking with people despite his no nonsense attitude.

“It does cost more than your life. These furs came from divine beasts I killed myself. It wasn’t an easy feat.” The Water oni spoke, his words as tranquil as the ocean. Glowering down at you with a half lidded gaze. His large clawed fingers gently tilting your chin upwards so your eyes met with his own.

“I could file for destruction of property in this case. So what’re you going to offer me as compensation? To make me overlook this incident, Darling?”

Let me know if yall wanna see more of the Darling Cafe! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

#Shimo the WOni #yandere monster #darling cafe #yandere stories #yandere writing #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere male x reader #yandere monster x reader #yandere blurb #yanblr

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pigeon-smidge · 1 year ago

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Strike on June 16-22nd for Palestine ‼️‼️

Post originally written by evilbagellisence on YouTube.

organized by @nadinewarnerr on twitter- poster by @blythtism on twitter

Two days ago, there was a nonstop bombing in Gaza. Over 5 massacres were committed by the Israeli occupation in 24 hours the other day.

These are people, like you and I, being harmed and killed because they exist. This is why we strike, no matter how little our contributions feel by themselves.

Striking together in solidarity makes a statement. During the strike period, refrain from contributing to the economy and buying from companies on the boycott list. Uplift Palestinian voices, do not speak for them if they’ve said otherwise on a matter.

If you can, put up posters! Ones with QR codes to gofundmes or other helpful resources are always nice to see.

Links to help: https://gazaesims.com <Donate Gaza Esims https://linktr.ee/opolivebranch <Operation Olive Branch, includes a spreadsheet of Palestinian’s gofundmes decolonizepalestine.com <Educate yourself on Palestine Arab.org <Daily clicks to generate revenue for Palestine https://piousprojects.org/campaign/2712 <Provide hygiene kits for women and girls in Gaza https://x.com/nadinewarnerr/status/17...

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lib-to-conned · 2 months ago

Text

Red Wave Solutions: Spread The Word

Mason Samsen wasn’t your average 20-year-old college student. His perpetually tousled hair and ink-stained fingertips were more than a badge of his role as a budding journalist; they were the marks of someone who rarely rested when there was a story to uncover. A junior at Jefferson University, Mason had quickly built a reputation as a truth-seeker on campus. His peers respected his tenacity, and some even feared his relentless pursuit of exposing wrongdoing. As an outspoken Democratic Socialist, Mason believed deeply in the power of truth to dismantle systems of inequality and oppression. For him, journalism wasn’t just a career path – it was a moral obligation.

His work spoke for itself. Within just two years, Mason had written exposés that sent shockwaves through the community of his college. The first uncovered a scandal involving a tenured professor who was not only cheating on his wife with his teaching assistant but also allegedly grading female students unfairly. Then there was the damning report on the head of the History Department, whose pattern of racially charged comments and discriminatory hiring practices for his TAs Mason meticulously documented. Both articles landed Mason in hot water with the faculty due to how much news coverage it received, but they also cemented his place as the student body’s most fearless journalist. His articles had been shared far beyond campus, with national outlets even picking up some of his stories. To Mason, this was proof that his instincts were never wrong.

So when the fliers for a company called "Red Wave Solutions" started appearing across campus, Mason’s journalist’s radar pinged instantly. He first noticed them plastered haphazardly on the corkboard outside the student union. A stark crimson logo dominated the page, paired with the tagline: "Reject Political Anxiety and Accept Conformity – Join the Movement Today!" The messaging was vague but calculated, designed to intrigue and alarm in equal measure. The company’s name struck him as odd too, as "Red Wave" sounded more like a politically charged rallying cry than a corporate entity. As such, he couldn’t help but wonder what type of services it could even offer.

Due to this, Mason tore a flier off the board and scrutinized it further. There was no detailed description of services, no list of affiliations, and no website – just a QR code and a phone number. A quick scan of the code on his phone led to a bare-bones webpage with little more than a flashy promotional video and a generic mission statement about "encouraging unity across the political divide." To Mason, it reeked of corporate jargon hiding something more insidious.

As he watched several nervous students hastily follow him and grab the fliers while looking around to make sure no one else saw them, the odd feeling Mason felt continued to gnaw at him. Why was a seemingly obscure yet political company suddenly plastering fliers all over campus? What exactly were they selling, and who had invited them here? Was this tied to the university administration, or was it the work of a private group looking to influence the student body? Mason didn’t know yet, but one thing was certain: the smell of bullshit was undeniable.

Mason’s resolve hardened as he opened a fresh document on his laptop. He would do what he always did – follow the trail, piece by piece, until he uncovered the truth. He had a gut feeling that Red Wave Solutions was up to far more nefarious things than their preachy unity message implied. As such, it was up to him to find out exactly what they were hiding and why they were targeting his campus.

Back in his dorm room, Mason leaned back in his creaky office chair, scrolling through the company’s sparse website with a growing sense of unease. The bright, polished visuals stood in stark contrast to the murkiness surrounding the company's true purpose. Stock photos of smiling queer couples holding hands and multi-racial families posing dominated the homepage. Their warm, inclusive energy clashed oddly with the undercurrent of the program’s messaging, which was as ambiguous as it was unsettling.

Mason’s sharp eyes honed in on the phrasing in the promotional text. "Are you worried about the future? Afraid of standing out? We hear you, and we can help remedy those nerves!" The implications were vague, but something about them made Mason’s skin crawl. The language was too polished, too calculated, as if crafted by a focus group determined to hit all the right notes for an audience grappling with post-election anxieties. His intuition told him this wasn’t just a therapy program – something insidious lurked beneath the cheerful exterior.

Being a gay man, Mason had learned to trust his gut when it came to exposing homophobic hostility, no matter how sugar-coated and concealed it appeared. The website’s queer-friendly imagery might have fooled someone else, but to Mason, it reeked of a ploy. As he clicked through the pages, a darker theory began to form in his mind. Could Red Wave Solutions be some kind of veiled conversion therapy operation? Maybe not in the traditional fire-and-brimstone sense, but something modern, subtle, and far more calculated – a campaign to indoctrinate or "reorient" unsuspecting young people under the guise of empathy and support.

Adding to his unease, Mason had found himself overhearing some of his friends mentioning Red Wave Solutions in the past few weeks. They’d talked about the program as a potential outlet to process their political anxieties and the stress of living in a rapidly polarizing society. Their interest frustrated Mason to no end. Couldn’t they see how suspicious it all sounded? He knew he couldn’t simply tell them to stay away without proof though, it was a common occurrence for them to accuse him of overthinking or being paranoid.

And so, Mason made a plan. If his friends were intrigued, he’d get there first. He’d scope out the company himself, ask pointed questions, and observe their methods. If his suspicions were correct, he’d blow the lid off Red Wave Solutions before any of his friends fell victim to its schemes. He wasn’t afraid to sacrifice a few hours enduring thinly-veiled conservative rhetoric if it meant protecting the people he cared about.

That resolve ultimately left him scheduling an appointment and standing outside the nondescript building listed as the company’s headquarters the very next day. The office complex was a bland, utilitarian structure – gray cement walls with windows that reflected the cloudy sky. There was no large sign or logo to announce Red Wave Solutions’ presence, only a small decal on the front door that caused the company to look as impersonal and corporate as Mason had imagined.

Taking a deep breath, Mason adjusted the front of his shirt. It wasn’t just a nervous habit though, he wanted to make sure the tiny button camera sewn into the middle of his polo was perfectly aligned. He’d spent all night setting up the camera, ensuring its placement was discreet yet functional. If something went south, he needed visual proof of whatever shady operation was running inside.

As he smoothed his shirt, Mason glanced at his reflection in the glass door. He looked composed enough, but his stomach churned. This wasn’t his first investigative dive, but something about this one felt different. Possibly dangerous even, given the type of hardcore conservatives that were most likely working on the inside to trap unsuspecting people into their web. Ever determined though, Mason shook the thought from his head and squared his shoulders. He had a job to do, after all, the truth wasn’t going to expose itself.

With one final glance at the street behind him, Mason pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The air inside the Red Wave Solutions building was cool and faintly scented with a generic, clean aroma that reminded Mason of a freshly mopped hospital floor. His eyes darted around the space as he stepped inside, taking in the minimalist yet calculated decor. The interior was almost sterile in its design: pristine white walls and floors offset by carefully placed red accents. A striking red backlight illuminated the reception desk at the center of the room, and short sections of the walls were painted in the same bold crimson. It was sleek and modern but lacked any warmth, as if it had been designed to evoke trustworthiness without inviting comfort.

Behind the desk sat a neatly dressed woman who greeted Mason with a polite but impersonal smile. She was African American, her hair pulled into a professional bun while her burgundy blouse complemented the crimson accents of the room. Mason’s journalistic instincts immediately kicked in. The choice of a minority woman as the face of this place struck him as deliberate – an intentional move to put visitors at ease and present an image of inclusivity. He wondered how many people had walked through these doors, seen her friendly face, and let their guards down.

“Welcome to Red Wave Solutions,” she said, her voice professional but warm. “Do you have an appointment with us today?”

Mason nodded, stepping closer to the desk. “Yeah, it’s Mason Samsen. My appointment’s at 2:30.”

The woman’s manicured nails clicked against her keyboard as she searched for his information in the system. Mason used the moment to glance around, noting a few chairs arranged neatly along the walls of the waiting area. They were stark white, with small red cushions placed in the center of each seat. A table held a stack of glossy pamphlets with titles like "Taking the First Step Toward Inner Peace" and "Navigating Life’s Challenges with Confidence." He resisted the urge to grab one, keeping his focus on the woman behind the desk.

“Ah, here you are,” she said after a few moments. “I just need to verify your identity. Do you have an ID with you?”

Mason froze for a fraction of a second. He hadn’t anticipated this. “Uh, yeah,” he said, fishing his driver’s license out of his wallet. “Is that really necessary though?”

The woman’s smile didn’t falter. “Unfortunately, yes. We’ve had a few incidents recently with people trying to play pranks or disrupt our sessions. Running a quick background check helps us ensure that everyone who comes in is serious about taking advantage of what we offer while also helping us easily share information with the police if necessary.”

Mason hesitated, his fingers gripping the edge of his license. Her explanation was reasonable enough on the surface, but it still felt invasive and incredibly suspicious. Still, he knew he couldn’t afford to raise any alarms this early in his investigation. With a tight smile, he handed over the ID.

“Thank you,” the woman said, sliding the card into a small scanner attached to the desk. The machine whirred softly as it processed the information. “This will just take a moment. Once it’s done, we’ll take you back to begin your consultation and help you learn how to thrive in the red wave.”

Mason forced a polite chuckle at her use of a clearly corporate-enforced tagline, but inwardly, his nerves spiked. The phrase felt even more ominous now that they held his ID, like some Orwellian euphemism. He watched as she glanced at her screen, her expression unreadable as the system ran its checks.

“Feel free to take a seat while we finish up,” she added, gesturing toward the waiting area.

Mason nodded and moved to one of the chairs, carefully positioning himself where he and his hidden camera could keep an eye on the desk. He slid his phone out of his pocket and pretended to scroll while his thoughts churned. This whole process felt wrong. What kind of therapy company needed to run background checks on its clients? Was this just about deterring pranksters, or was there something deeper at play – some sort of data collection method or pre-screening tool to help figure out how exactly to break the mental reserves of interested parties?

As he waited, Mason adjusted his polo shirt again, ensuring the hidden button camera was still perfectly aligned. Whatever was happening here, he wasn’t leaving without answers.

The seconds stretched into minutes as Mason sat in the waiting area, his foot tapping against the white tile floor. His eyes flicked between the receptionist and the clock on the wall, noting that it had been over ten minutes since his ID had been taken. The polished environment of Red Wave Solutions, with its pristine surfaces and artificial calmness, was starting to get under his skin. The longer he waited, the more his mind raced. What if they were stalling for a reason? Had their check revealed his identity as an expose-focused journalist? He needed answers, and he wasn’t about to waste more time sitting idly by and waiting for them to make the first move.

Determined to act, Mason stood and walked back to the desk, forcing a polite smile. “Hey, sorry to bother you,” he began, “but is there a bathroom I could use while I wait?”

The receptionist returned his smile with one of her own, still calm and composed. “Of course,” she said, pointing toward a hallway behind her. “Just head straight down that hall and take a right. You’ll see the sign.”

“Thanks,” Mason replied, masking his nerves as he turned away.

He followed her directions, but as he walked, he took in everything around him. The red accents continued down the hallway – with all of its short walls and door frames painted with the same deliberate splash of color. The space was oddly quiet, the faint hum of distant air conditioning the only sound accompanying his steps. His hidden camera captured everything, from the layout to the stark, almost clinical lighting.

When he reached the intersection where he was supposed to turn right toward the bathroom, he paused. To his left, the hallway stretched further into the building, its end obscured by a sharp turn. Mason hesitated, weighing his options. The bathroom was a safe choice, but his instincts pushed him in the other direction. If he wanted answers, he knew he had to take a risk.

After glancing back to ensure the receptionist couldn’t see him, Mason hastily turned left and strode deeper into the building.

The further he went, the stranger the place felt. The hallways were eerily labyrinthine, branching off into sharp angles and other hallways that made it easy to lose his bearings. Doors lined the walls, each one marked with a small, nondescript plaque bearing a room number. Curious, Mason peeked through the window of one door, only to find an empty, white-walled room with a single chair bolted to the floor. The next room was the same. And the next.

“What the hell is this place?” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding harder with each step.

Then, a sound broke the silence – a voice, faint at first, but unmistakable.

“Help! Someone, please! Help me!”

Mason froze, his breath catching in his throat. The voice was male, clearly desperate and filled with terror.

“I changed my mind! I want to leave! Please, let me out!”

The cries sent a chill down Mason’s spine. He scanned the hallway, trying to pinpoint the source. Although he didn’t know where exactly, the man knew that the screams were coming from somewhere deeper in the building.

Without hesitation then, Mason followed the sound, his steps quickening as he navigated the twisting corridors. The voice grew louder by the minute, the man’s pleas echoing off the sterile walls. Mason’s chest tightened as he rounded another corner, finally stopping in front of a heavy door with a small rectangular window.

Inside, a young man was standing with his head pressed against the glass window. His face was pale, his eyes wide and filled with panic. When he saw Mason, he pounded on the glass.

“Please, help me!” the man begged, his voice raw. “You have to let me out! I changed my mind. I don’t want to go through with this anymore!”

Mason’s hands trembled as he reached for the door handle, only to find it locked. He looked back down the hallway, adrenaline flooding his system. The silence outside the door was deafening, as if the building itself were holding its breath.

“Hold on,” Mason said, his voice low but urgent. “I’ll get you out of here. Just give me a second.”

The man inside the room sobbed, clutching his head in anguish. “Please, hurry, I don’t feel well,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Mason scanned the door, looking for any way to unlock it. His instincts told him to move quickly – if anyone caught him here, he wouldn’t have the chance to find out what was really going on.

Mason’s heart hammered in his chest as he examined the door, searching for some way to unlock it. His fingers brushed over the control panel on the side, and he let out a small breath of relief when he saw the latch mechanism – a simple keypad. His years of investigative journalism had taught him a few tricks, and after quickly punching in a few common codes he’d used to sneak into areas in the past, the lock finally gave a faint click.

The door swung open, and the man inside nearly collapsed into Mason’s arms. His slender twinkish frame trembled, and before Mason could say a word, the man threw his arms around him, clinging tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” the man cried, his voice breaking. “We need to get out of here… right fucking now!”

Mason gripped his shoulders firmly, pushing him back slightly so he could look him in the eyes. “Hey, calm down. Stop yelling,” he said, keeping his voice low and steady. “I’ll help you get out, but you have to keep quiet. We can’t get caught, okay?”

The man nodded frantically, his breathing ragged. Mason took a moment to observe him. He was young – probably a college student no older than Mason himself – with bright blonde hair that was tousled in a way that suggested he’d been consistently running his hands through it while in distress. His frail physique was only emphasized by the somewhat tight Britney Spears t-shirt he wore, providing Mason with a clear as day impression of the other man’s toned abs and flat chest. The whole look screamed twink, which instantly caused Mason to develop a pang of protectiveness for him.

“Okay, we’re getting out of here,” Mason said, his voice firm but quiet. “Stick close to me, and don’t make a sound unless I ask you something.”

The man nodded again, wiping tears from his face. Mason led him out of the room, carefully closing the door behind them. He glanced down the hallway, ensuring the coast was clear before gesturing for the man to follow him.

As they walked, Mason leaned in close. “What’s your name?”

“Cooper,” the man whispered, his voice trembling. “Cooper Evans.”

“All right, Cooper. What the hell is going on here?”

Cooper hesitated, wringing his hands as they moved down the quiet hall. “I– I came here because I was scared,” he finally said, his voice shaking. “I didn’t know what else to do. With this new administration, I was afraid of being hate-crimed or losing my rights. They said they could help me blend in.”

Mason’s brows furrowed. “Blend in? How?”

“They… they said they have this process,” Cooper explained. “They said they could transform me into a Conservative. That I wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore if I just… fit in.”

Mason stopped in his tracks, turning to stare at Cooper. “Transform you? What are you talking about? How does that even work?”

“I, I don’t know!” Cooper said, his voice rising before Mason quickly shushed him. “I swear, I don’t know. They gave me this whole pitch, had me sign a contract saying I’d agree to it, and then they gave me this red pill for me to swallow. That’s it. That’s all I know!”

Mason let out a low groan, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell were you thinking saying yes to something like that?” he hissed. “I know the future’s scary right now, but why would you want to become someone with such awful values? Someone your altered self would hate if they ever met the real you?”

Cooper’s lip trembled, and tears began streaming down his face again. “Dude, I was scared, okay?” he choked out. “I didn’t know what else to do! I thought… I thought it was the only way I’d be safe.”

Mason sighed, his frustration melting into a mix of sympathy and anger. “Look, I get it. Things are bad, but you can’t just give up who you are because you’re scared. That’s exactly what people like them want. I don’t know you well, but I can already tell that you’re a great guy who deserves to be your true self…”

Cooper sniffled, nodding miserably as he endured the lecture from the other man while continuing down the hallway. Mason kept a hand on his shoulder, guiding him while keeping an ear out for any approaching footsteps. Whatever was happening here, it was worse than he’d imagined, and he was determined to not only get Cooper out of here safely, but expose this company for the disgusting things they’re attempting to do.

Mason kept a steady grip on Cooper’s shoulder, speaking softly but urgently. “Listen, Cooper, nobody can just transform like that. It’s not real. Whatever they gave you, it’s probably some kind of drug – a sedative, maybe, or something to make you more suggestible. Brainwashing, that’s got to be their angle. They’re just trying to get you weak enough so they can get in your head…”

Cooper’s watery eyes flicked toward him, searching for reassurance. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Mason replied firmly. “You’re still you. We just need to get out of here in one piece, and everything will be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

But just as the words left Mason’s mouth, Cooper stopped dead in his tracks. A low grunt escaped him, and his hands shot to his stomach.

“Something’s wrong,” Cooper whimpered, his voice tight with discomfort.

Mason spun around, his heart lurching. “Cooper?”

Before he could get another word out, Cooper screamed – a piercing, guttural sound that echoed through the hallway. Mason’s pulse spiked, causing him to immediately clamp a hand over Cooper’s mouth.

“Shh! Stop screaming!” Mason hissed, glancing over his shoulder, expecting someone to come rushing toward them at any moment. But Cooper’s muffled cries didn’t stop. His entire body trembled, his knees buckling as he clutched his midsection.

“Damn it,” Mason muttered under his breath, scanning the hallway. He spotted a door nearby, one that oddly wasn’t locked like so many of the others but rather slightly ajar. With no other choice and not in the situation to second-guess it, he yanked it open all the way, dragging Cooper inside and shutting the door behind them.

“Okay, breathe,” Mason said, trying to keep his own voice steady. “We just need to–”

But Cooper cut him off with another scream, this one deeper and more guttural than before. Mason’s stomach churned as the sound of cracking bones filled the air. Cooper fell to his knees, his hands bracing against the cold floor as his body convulsed. “What’s happening to me?!” he roared, his voice suddenly raspier and deeper, no longer the light airy tenor Mason had heard moments ago.

“Cooper, calm down!” Mason demanded, though his own panic was building. “It’s, it’s probably the drug giving you a panic attack or something. Just hold on, we’ll–”

But Mason’s words faltered as he watched, wide-eyed, as Cooper’s body began to change. His frame, once frail and delicate, suddenly began to expand with unnatural speed. His limbs stretched, his torso elongating until he had shot up to at least 6’4”. His skinny jeans became comically short, now resembling capris, while his Britney Spears t-shirt rode up his lengthening torso, exposing a wide swath of his toned abdomen.

“What the hell…” Mason whispered, stumbling back against the wall.

Cooper’s screams wavered, cracking wildly between high-pitched cries and guttural, low groans. His hands clutched at his chest and shoulders as his body continued to shift – this time with the invasion of muscle into his lithe frame. Before his eyes, Mason watched as the other man’s lean arms buffed up, his flat chest began to thicken and broaden, and the remainder of Cooper’s entire physique began to morph from wiry club kid to college athlete.

“It hurts!” Cooper cried out, his voice so deep and gravelly it was almost unrecognizable. “What the fuck is happening to me?!”

Mason’s breath caught in his throat. “Cooper,” he said, his voice trembling. “I– I think it’s real. That pill… it’s actually transforming you.”

Cooper’s new, larger form shook with silent sobs as his head dropped forward, his blonde hair falling into his face. “But I didn’t want this!” he bellowed, his voice resonating in the small room. “I just wanted to feel safe!”

Mason stared at him, horrified and helpless, his mind racing. Whatever he had stumbled into at Red Wave Solutions was far more sinister than he could have imagined. This wasn’t just brainwashing or manipulation – this was something once thought to be scientifically impossible.

He took a shaky step forward, placing a hand on Cooper’s arm and struggling to comprehend the jock-like biceps the man now possessed. “We’re going to figure this out,” Mason said, his voice low but firm. “I don’t know how, but we will find a way to turn you back. Just… keep it together, okay?”

Cooper looked up at him, tears streaming down his face. “They changed me,” he choked out. “I barely even recognize myself…”

Mason swallowed hard, fighting back the rising tide of panic. “We’ll fix this,” he promised, though he had no idea how. “But first, we’ve got to get out of here.”

He reached for the door handle, his heart hammering. Whatever was happening inside Red Wave Solutions, Mason knew one thing for sure: he had to expose it, no matter the cost.

Mason had barely finished reassuring Cooper when the man doubled over again, this time clutching his chest with both hands. The cracking and popping sounds of shifting bone and sinew returned, louder and more unsettling than before. Mason’s stomach twisted in fear as Cooper’s body began to shake once more.

“Cooper?” Mason asked, his voice shaking as he stepped back. “What’s happening now?”

Cooper let out a low groan that turned into a guttural moan as his entire body suddenly began to swell with immense mass. In an instant, his arms ballooned with muscle. His biceps and forearms thickened rapidly, straining the sleeves of his Britney Spears shirt until they began to tear at the seams. His chest expanded, leaving his plump pecs pressed tightly against the fabric as his shoulders further broadened and filled out. His newly-jockish frame was already disappearing, undergoing an extreme metamorphosis as more layers of powerful muscle began to flood his physique.

“Holy… shit…,” Mason muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of Cooper’s transformation.

The changes didn’t stop with his upper body, as Cooper’s thighs and calves surged with muscle, causing his jeans to pull taut until the fabric threatened to split. His abdomen, which had been toned yet flat before, rippled with abs so bulging and pronounced they looked sculpted from stone. And yet, even as Mason watched, a soft layer of fat began to spread over Cooper’s newly chiseled physique. His once-defined six-pack faded into the softer outline of a bulkier, slightly rounded stomach, giving him the appearance of a well-fed, off-season athlete… or a frat bro who spent as much time lifting weights as he did guzzling beer.

Cooper let out a long, low moan as the transformation slowed. His once frail and shaky voice was now deep and resonant, though his words came out in a stilted, almost dazed manner. “Holy shit, bro,” he said, looking down at his enormous hands and flexing them experimentally. “What… what happened to me?!”

Mason’s breath hitched as he stared at the hulking figure before him. Cooper’s face still bore a trace of his former self, but it was broader now, more rugged. His blonde hair was now down to his shoulders, styled with a natural set of curls that gave him a sort of redneck-chic style befitting of a frat bro. The sight was surreal, and Mason’s instincts screamed at him to leave.

He took a step back, glancing at the door. “Look, Cooper,” he said cautiously, his voice trembling. “I– I think you’re going to be okay still. Just… stay here. I need to figure out how to get us out of this mess.”

But the words felt hollow even as he spoke them. Every fiber of his being told him he couldn’t stay here any longer. Whatever was happening to Cooper, it was beyond anything Mason could comprehend, let alone fix.

“I’ll be right back,” Mason lied, taking another step back toward the door until his back pressed against the firm metal.

As he reached for the handle and turned it though, his heart sank. It wouldn’t budge. He yanked harder, but it quickly became clear that there was no use. The door was locked.

“No, no, no,” he muttered under his breath, his panic rising. He spun around, his eyes darting toward the small window in the door.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

Two enormous security guards stood just outside, their arms crossed over their broad chests. Both men were built like linebackers, their sharp features set in stern, no-nonsense expressions. They were looking directly at Mason, their eyes unblinking, their presence menacing.

“Oh, crap,” Mason whispered, stepping away from the door.

“Dude,” Cooper said behind him, his voice booming and casual now. “Why’s the door locked? What’s goin’ on, bro?”

Mason didn’t respond. His mind raced, trying to think of a way out. Yet as he looked around, he quickly realized that not only was the room small, but it lacked any other exits or windows. The only way out of this room was through the door – and the guards who clearly weren’t going to let him leave.

Cooper took a lumbering step toward him, his movements unsteady as he adjusted to his new burly size. “Yo, Mason,” he said, his voice a strange mix of confusion and excitement. “I feel so weird, man. Like, I’m freakin’ huge now. This is nuts!”

Mason pressed himself against the far wall, his breath quick and shallow. He had come here to expose Red Wave Solutions, but now he was trapped in a nightmare with no clear escape. And to make matters worse, the transformed Cooper was now staring at him with an unsettling mix of bewilderment and enthusiasm, as if unaware of the full extent of what had just happened to him.

The guards outside shifted slightly, their eyes never leaving Mason. It was clear they were waiting for him to make a move – which left the journalist wondering if they were simply there to stop him from interfering or eventually take him somewhere worse for finding out the truth.

Mason swallowed hard, his mind racing. Whatever was happening here, he was in way over his head.

Mason barely had time to process the sight of the guards standing outside the window before the door clicked and swung open into the room. His pulse spiked, and he took a few reflexive steps back, especially as the two massive guards rushed into the room with practiced precision and alarming speed.

“Hey! Wait–” Mason shouted, but the words were cut off as one guard grabbed his left arm and the other seized his right. Their grips were like iron, pinning him in place with an effortless strength that left him completely immobilized.

“Let me go!” Mason demanded, struggling futilely against their hold.

But his cries went ignored. The guards didn’t so much as glance at him, their stony expressions remaining fixed ahead like robots as they held him firmly.

Mason’s eyes darted to Cooper, desperate for help, but the sight before him made his stomach drop further. Cooper was staring at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the far wall, his now-massive hands running over his muscular chest and arms. His face, once soft and pretty, had undergone further dramatic transformation. The delicate features had sharpened into something rugged and masculine – a stubble-covered jawline that could cut glass, a straight nose, a set of manly lips adorned with a trimmed mustache, and thick brows that framed eyes filled with a vacant yet self-satisfied glint. For a moment, the man played with his hair, enjoying running his thick, callused fingers through his long wavy strands.

“Cooper!” Mason called, hoping to snap him out of his trance.

But Cooper didn’t respond, his attention entirely consumed by his own image. He flexed, his bulging biceps straining the tattered remnants of his shirt, his lips curving into a smirk as he admired his physique.

The sound of deliberate, measured footsteps echoed through the room, drawing Mason’s attention away. His eyes widened as a figure emerged in the doorway – a handsome, middle-aged man with perfectly trimmed stubble and sharp, piercing eyes. Dressed in a tailored suit that exuded authority, the man carried himself with an unsettling confidence.

He stepped inside, surveying the room with a smile that sent chills down Mason’s spine. His gaze lingered on Cooper for a moment, his expression one of approval, before turning toward Mason.

“Well, isn’t this quite the scene,” the man said, his voice smooth and commanding. “Cooper is coming along beautifully, wouldn’t you say?”

Mason didn’t answer, his throat dry as he glared at the man.

The stranger’s attention returned to Cooper, who was now flexing in earnest, his massive arms and broad shoulders filling the small space. “You’re doing great, Cooper,” the man encouraged, his tone warm and enthusiastic. “Just look at you. All that weakness, all that self-doubt – it’s melting away, isn’t it? You’re finally becoming the straight alpha male you were always meant to be.”

“No,” Mason muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “This isn’t right. Cooper, don’t listen to him!”

But Cooper didn’t even glance at him. Instead, his expression remained precisely trained at his new reflection and hyper-masculine face as one hand moved down to paw at his immensely-sized crotch. “Yeah… yeah, bro,” Cooper said, his voice deep and almost gravelly. “I feel so… powerful.”

The man chuckled, his smile widening. “That’s it. Embrace it. Let go of that weak, pitiful version of yourself. Expel it. You don’t need it anymore.”

“Cooper, stop!” Mason shouted, straining against the guards’ hold. “This isn’t you! Don’t give into what this asshole and his fucked up company wants!”

But his words were drowned out by the older man’s encouragement. “Come on, Cooper. Show us you’re ready. Show us you’re done with that fragile little self you used to be.”

Cooper’s grin turned almost feral as he stepped back from the mirror, his massive hands now split between jerking himself off and squeezing his immense new form. He thrust his hips forward once, then again, his body trembling as he gave in to whatever compulsion was driving him.

“No!” Mason screamed, his voice cracking as he fought against the guards with renewed desperation.

Cooper bucked his hips one last time, his movements growing erratic until he froze as a torrent of cum shot out of his thick cock. Mason watched as the man’s eyes rolled back into his head, his chest heaving as a guttural groan escaped his lips.

Mason’s blood ran cold. Whatever was happening to Cooper was reaching its horrifying conclusion, and Mason had no idea how to stop it.

Cooper – or rather, the person who had once been Cooper – stirred a few minutes later, his head jerking slightly before his eyes fluttered open. Mason froze, watching in disbelief as the hulking man came to. The confusion was evident in the newly sculpted frat bro’s face as he blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings.

“Uh… what the hell is going on, broskis?” he mumbled, his deep voice carrying an unfamiliar, lazy drawl. His gaze darted from the guards restraining Mason to the middle-aged man standing with a smug expression, and finally landed on Mason himself.

As recognition failed to surface in his eyes, the now-transformed man tilted his head, his lips pulling into a cocky smirk. “Yo, wait a sec… are you, like, a homo or something? Tryna sneak a peek at my badass bod or check out my… uh…” He flexed one arm and cupped his other hand over his crotch with a crude laugh. “…my impressive package, bro?”

Mason’s mouth fell open. “Cooper, it’s me, it’s Mason! Don’t you remember anything? You came here because–”

“Shut it,” the other man interrupted before snapping his fingers at the guards holding Mason. Without hesitation, they reached up and clamped strong hands over his mouth in order to silence him. Mason struggled, muffled protests escaping as he glared daggers at the older man.

The mysterious man turned to the hulking figure, his demeanor calm and calculated. “You’re quite perceptive, Jackson. As a matter of fact, we did indeed catch Mr. Samsen here sneaking into your room while you were in the middle of your… business.”

Instantly, Jackson’s brows furrowed as his expression darkened. He clenched his fists, the sound of his knuckles cracking echoing ominously in the small room. “What the fuck, bro?” he said, his voice a mix of anger and indignation. “You some kinda creep? Lemme guess, you’re some kind of fucked up fairy jealous of what a real man looks like?”

Mason shook his head frantically, trying to plead through the guards’ hands. His muffled cries went unnoticed by Jackson, whose frustration seemed to bubble over.

“Yo, I’ll mess you up, dude,” Jackson growled, taking a menacing step forward. His massive form towered over Mason, the threat in his body language clear.

But before Jackson could act, the middle-aged man raised a hand, his commanding tone cutting through the tension. “Now, now, Jackson. There’s no need for violence.” He nodded toward one of the guards standing by the door. “Escort Jackson to the lounge, would you? He’s had an intense day coming to terms with his inner truth, so I’m sure he could use some time to relax.”

One of the guards stepped forward, placing a hand on Jackson’s broad shoulder. “C’mon, man. Let’s go.”

Jackson hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking back to Mason. But then he shrugged, his frustration melting into indifference. “Yeah, whatever. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today, bro,” he muttered, turning to follow the guard out of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind them, the man shifted his attention back to Mason. His warm smile was chilling in its insincerity. “Now, Mr. Samsen,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s your turn. You’ve poked your nose into matters you shouldn’t, so now it’s time for you to not only get punished but find a way to truly contribute to our cause.”

Mason’s eyes widened as the man continued, his tone almost fatherly. “You’ve spent so much time fighting against what you perceive as wrong. But you’ll soon realize that you’ve been on the wrong side of history all along. Don’t worry though, we’ll be gentle in helping you see the truth. And once you do, you’ll become the Conservative you were always meant to be...”

To read part two, click here.

#lib to con #gay to straight #frat bro tf #jock tf #mental changes #dumber

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andy-wm · 9 months ago

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AYS Behind the scenes: behind the paywall

Now that the Disney+ episodes are complete (sob), my attention is firmly fixed on my mailbox as I wait impatiently for the AYS photobook and QR code.

I was always going to buy the Jikook photobook, even though I doubt there will be much we haven't already seen in the episodes. But the inclusion of the QR code was the clincher.

I must admit, Hybe locking up the behind the scenes for AYS was not on my bingo sheet.

Making behind/additional clips available on Bangtan TV would have been more in line with their regular MO. We don't generally have to pay for what really amounts to outtakes.

Okay, yes, we have to pay for behind cuts of Run BTS, but the actual episodes are free. With everything else the behind clips are included when you buy the series (I'm thinking of BV, ITS, and concert boxed sets).

In fact I can't think of any other time a behind/ bonus clip hasn't been available to fans who pay for the main content.

Maybe it is because Hybe was only contracted to deliver 8 episodes to Disney+ and the price was fixed. Maybe they saw an easy way to make the series more profitable.

We know they will take any opportunity to lighten our wallets.

But I think there's more to it

Let's talk business:

If Hybe wanted to make money from this, having the sale point directly on Weverse would make more sense. That way anyone could buy it any time without having to buy the photobook as well. Even if they charged just a few $$ for these extra clips, the return could be substantial over time. Long tail products can be very lucrative and Hybe clearly knows this - they have heaps of old footage for sale on Weverse. Since they're hosting the content already, it makes sense to keep that 'buy now' button active and let the dollars trickle in.

So why reduce the potential pool of buyers? Why limit this to those who buy the photobook??

Well, let's consider who is going to buy the photobook?

Who is going to fork out US$28 plus postage for a keepsake of these two on their third honeymoon?

I doubt OT7 ARMYs would buy it. Even ARMYs who bias JM or JK - if they aren't part of the SGMB they probably don't want it either.

Solos sure as hell don't want it - they are probably wishing the whole thing never happened... sucks to be them haha

Who really wants to see these two living their best lives together?

We do!

And by we, I mean Jikook supporters.

People who want to see more of this:

and this

And this

We are the people who will buy this photobook (and probably never look at it more than once, let's be honest)

But let's get back to the topic at hand....

The photobook/behind combo seems like a chicken/egg situation to me.

Which came first - as a concept - the photobook or the behind clips?

Did they decide to offer a photobook, and then think of adding the extra footage to make it more appealing?

Or vice versa?

Did they decide to make the behind clips, and think of the photobook afterwards?

Hard to say, since behind clips have always been a thing and recently Hybe is putting out photobooks for everything.

But I think I have a fair idea

Consider the price point for this photobook - it's the same price as most of the others produced recently: +-US$28.

AYS photobook & behind is the same price as the Photo-Folios, Tae's Type 1 (magazine version) photobook, and the Beyond The Stage photobook

🗣 So they aren't charging any extra for the behind footage?

No, they aren't. They're basically giving it to the buyers of the photobook as a gift.

🗣 Could they be making money off it?

Yes, the could.

Long tail, remember?

Looking at the profit-making potential, it makes WAY more sense for Hybe to offer the behind footage on Weverse for a few meagre dollars and... wait for their ship to come in...

See what I did there? hahahhaha (laughing by myself)

They really aren't making any money off this!

how unlike Hybe...

So why go to the effort of setting up QR codes and putting it behind a paywall? It costs money to host content this way. They are in fact SPENDING money to bring us this footage.

Not only through the hosting costs there are also production costs to consider.

Wouldn't it make more sense to just freely share it with ARMY via Bangtan TV? Or not release it at all?

Yes, it would...

So there's only one logical answer...

Hybe has chosen to make the content available - but also make it just that little bit more difficult to access.

This whole exercise seems to be about releasing additional footage without releasing it to the general public. It's being shared specifically with those of us who support them.

Does that mean we'll see slightly more personal content?

Maybe it's a little more revealing of their undeniable bond and their hot chemistry...?

Whatever they contain, these behind clips are definitely for a limited audience - and purposefully so.

The only reason for it, that I can think of, is to safeguard Jimin and Jungkook from too much scrutiny and criticism - from within the fandom (unfortunately) and outside of it.

We will find out in a few days I guess.

In the meantime, I'm camped out by my mailbox

#kookmin #jeon jungguk #park jimin #jikook #국민 #true love #jikook ays #jikook are you sure

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grateful-for-zayn · 3 months ago

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Fan projects for Zayn in Mexico City/ Fan projects para Zayn en Ciudad de México.

This is a long post, it has all the fan projects that are plan for the different shows of Zayn in Mexico City. I will be very thankful if you can reblog this post so more fans can see it. Details of the fan projects below./ Esta es una larga publicación, tiene todos los fan projects planeados para los diferentes conciertos de Zayn en CDMX. Estaría muy agradecida si puedes compartir esta publicación para que más fans puedan verlos. Detalles de los fan projects abajo.

Fan projects for the 25th of March./ Fan projects para el 25 de Marzo.

They are two fan projects, both are organize by different groups, one is for Pillowtalk & the other for Sweat.

For Pillowtalk there will be lights green, white and red like the Mexican flag (bring your color paper and use the flash or put an image of the color and turn on the bright of your phone to the max., or use the concert lights app, for the white section only use the flash). On the pit there will be signs with things related of Mine Of Mine as wells as balloons. The signs will be share by the organizers but you can also print them here./ Para Pillowtalk, habrá luces verdes, blancas y rojas como la bandera de México (trae un papel del color y usa el flash o usa una imagen del color y aumenta el brillo del celular al máximo o usa la app concert lights, para la sección de blanco sólo usa el flash). En la sección de general habrá carteles con textos de Mine Of Mine, así como globos. Los carteles y globos serán repartidos por los organizadores o puedes imprimir los carteles aquí.

The second fan project is for the song Sweat, this will be with the app ledsUp! You can download it from the play store or using the qr code. Here a video of how the lights will look, tutorial here & here./ El segundo fan project es para la canción de Sweat, este es mediante la app de ledsUp! Puedes descargarla de la play store o utilizar el código qr. Aquí esta un video de cómo se verán las luces, tutorial en este enlace y este otro.

Fan projects for the 27th of March./ Fan projects para el 27 de Marzo.

There will be 2 fan projects one for Sweat and the other for Scripted./ Habrá dos fan projects uno para Sweat y el otro para Scripted.

For Sweat there will be lights green, white and red like the Mexican flag (bring your color paper and use the flash or put an image of the color and turn on the bright of your phone to the max., or use the concert lights app, for the white section only use the flash). On the pit there will be paper faces like nobody is listening album, this will be share by the organizers./ Para Sweat habrá luces verdes, blancas y rojas como la bandera de México (trae un papel del color y usa el flash o usa una imagen del color y aumenta el brillo del celular al máximo o usa la app concert lights, para la sección de blanco sólo usa el flash). En la sección de general habrá caritas de papel como las del álbum nobody is listening, las cuales serán repartidos por los organizadores.

For the song Scripted it will be a wave of lights, so just use the flash of your phone and for the pit there will be metalic stars that the organizer will share but you can also bring your own. / Para la canción Scripted se hará una ola de luces así que sólo necesitas el flash del celuar. En la sección general se tendrán estrellas metálicas que serán repartidas por lor organizadores o también puedes llevar la tuya.

Fan projects for the 28th of March./ Fan projects para el 28 de Marzo.

There are two fan projects for this date, one for What I Am and the other por Alienated./Hay dos fan projects para esta fecha uno para What I Am y otro para Alienated.

For the What I Am fan project the lights will be blue (bring your color paper and use the flash or put an image of the color and turn on the bright of your phone to the max., or use the concert lights app). Besides that they want to make a Z using white balloons and the flash behind it, this will be in the middle of the venue with the help of different sections (check the images to see which sections), the balloons will be share by the organizers or you can bring yours. In the pit there will be balloons and signs that the organizers will share or you can print your sign here. / El fan project de What I Am consistirá en tener luces azules (trae un papel del color y usa el flash o usa una imagen del color y aumenta el brillo del celular al máximo o usa la app concert lights). Además en la parte de las gradas del centro se buscará formar una Z con globos blancos y usando el flash del celular detrás del globo (checa las imágenes para ver en cuáles secciones se utilizarán), los globos serán repartidos por los organizadores o también puedes llevar el tuyo. En la sección general se tendrán globos y carteles, los cuales serán repartidos por los organizadores o también puedes descargarlos aquí.

The second fan project is for the song Alienated, the lights will be green (bring your color paper and use the flash or put an image of the color and turn on the bright of your phone to the max., or use the concert lights app), for the pit besides the lights there will be stars and pictures of aliens in spaceships. The organizers will share the material but if you want to print yours or print the instructions in paper green to share it in your section is here./ El segundo fan project es para la canción Alienated, las luces serán verdes (trae un papel del color y usa el flash o usa una imagen del color y aumenta el brillo del celular al máximo o usa la app concert lights). Además de las luces verdes en la sección general se tendrán estrellas e imágenes de aliens en naves espaciales. Los organizadores van a compartir el material pero si quieres imprimir el tuyo o imprimir las instrucciones en papel verde para compartir con otros en tu sección esta aquí.

One of the organizers is planing to bring a banner to the show./ Asimismo uno de los organizadores planea llevar una manta especial de Zayn al concierto.

The fan projects are organize by: Zayn México, Zayn Monterrey and Fan Projects CDMX, go follow them./ Los fan projects están organizados por: Zayn México, Zayn Monterrey y Fan Projects CDMX, síganlos.

You can share the fan projects on instagram, here is the post with all the fan projects except the sweat on the 25th and alienated on the 28th./ Puedes compartir los fan projects on instagram, aquí esta el post de los fan projects excepto por el de sweat del 25 y alienated del 28.

On twitter you can share the fan projects: The whole thread of fan projects in english & spanish, except for sweat on the 25th and alienated on the 28th./ En twitter puedes compartir los fan projects, aquí están los tweets con todos los fan projects en inglés y español, excepto el de sweat del 25 y el de alienated del 28.

One of the organizers is asking for volunteers, in case you want to share material in your section for the fan project fill the form here/ Uno de los organizadores está pidiendo voluntarios, en caso de que quieras repartir material en tu sección llena el formulario.

Please reblog this post./ Por favor comparte esta publicación.

#this was a nightmare to write please reblog #it will be nice it we make it happen #por favor compartan #signal boost #zayn malik #stts tour #zayn in mexico #fan project #zayn #sttst #stairway to the sky tour #i check the post 10000 times sorry if it has mistakes still #esmetracks #mindofwalls

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gsirvitor · 2 months ago

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I'm losing my mind.

Destiny 2 has a new community event, in the first week it involved us scouring the game to find 60 unique chess pieces.

Then this week a chess board appeared, we got shrunk down and began to play.

After winning 27 games of chess the board wiped, and revealed something new;

Unique boards with different frequency codes, like x2017.

There were frequency codes from x0001-x4096, which meant there were 4096 unique boards for each player to find.

So we did, we gathered all of the boards, uploaded them to a database and began to align them, they created a QR code;

This QR code led to this website;

Which requires you to navigate it, and when you get to input experiment codes, it requires you to generate a FEN code to input.

How?

Using a website like this;

So, the goal is to recreate all 4096 boards, get the FEN codes, and input them into the website, yet not all FEN codes seem to work.

All I've pieced together is that it's the Apollo company, it has Marathon code names, it involves time travel, and the Cabal have apparently interacted with this prior.

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karasukarei · 8 months ago

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Wind Breaker Exhibition Kyoto - Full review with audio guides

I went for WinBre Ex two weeks ago! It was STUNNING and AMAZING 🤩 Here’s a rundown of what went down (with plenty of simping from yours truly)! I also bought the audio guide, so I’ll also be summarising the audio guide at the points where it’ll be played. The guide features the first year trio.

Disclaimer: Photos are allowed for most sections of the exhibition. As many of the exhibits are manga panels, I was more selective in the photos I've shown here, to focus more on interesting ways the panels were shown, or on exhIbition-exclusive displays. (moots, feel free to DM me if you want more photos!) Where there are no photos in my post, photography was not allowed. I did not take photos of every single exhibit on display, only the panels or art works that I found especially interesting (or those with Umemiya cos I'm his simp).

Entrance

You’ll be given a QR code to scan to get the audio guide when entering, if you bought it! There are 9 tracks in total.

The bonuses you’ll get when entering are a random sticker (I got the omurice one with Sakura and Umemiya!!!) and a physical ticket. You can also purchase the ticket with a pass case and photo card, but I didn’t find it very cost-effective so I bought just the ticket ^^;

At the entrance there’s a huge poster of the key visual of the exhibition art, as well as the noticeboard at the entrance to Makochi!

Section 1: Character intros

The first section has cutouts of the first years! Manga panels of the first chapter and a few other general key visuals, such as art by Nii-sensei for the anime airing, are here too.

They also have Sakura’s real uniform on display!! The detail on the embroidery is sooo intricate.

Audio guide 1: The scene starts with Nirei dropping his notebook. Suo (if i remember correctly)picks it up and returns it to him, and Sakura tells Nirei to take better care of it. Nirei tells Sakura about how he wants to use the notebook to help Sakura reach the top, since Nirei himself can’t fight, and he hopes to help using the information on people inside it. They go through Sakura’s profile (stuff like his height, weight, likes and dislikes etc.). Suo tells Sakura that he’s really loved, and Sakura gets all blushy and tsun (SO CUTE).

Section 2: Meeting Boufuurin

This section is in the same area as the first, and starts with a photo spot!

They have two uniform jackets for you to try on for photos (Sakura’s and Sugi’s) and the size difference is real lmao. The one in front is Sakura’s, and it’s considerably shorter than Sugi’s. I also took some dumb photos here www (available on request by DM, moots only)

The rest of Boufuurin is introduced here too!! But um. As you can see I kind of. Only had eyes for one person. Oop.

Audio guide 2: The trio are discussing how their class is full of interesting people, and they give a quick profile of Tsugeura, Kiryuu, and Sugi. When Nirei says that standing next to Sakura and Suo gets him all excited, Suo mentions that Sakura is all red, and Sakura gets really flustered. Sakura demands Nirei to hand him the notebook so he can search for Suo’s weak point, but the only information he found is whatever was in Suo’s character profile (specifically his love for Chinese-style fashion and tea). They also discuss the embroidery on their uniform, and how long Sugi’s uniform is because of his height.

Section 3: Shishitoren arc

This section summarises the Shishitoren arc, and includes panels from the manga, as well as keyframes from the anime!

Note: For the Tokyo exhibition, the Shishitoren tunnel was there, but from what I remember the Kyoto one didn’t have the tunnel (I might have missed it in my excitement to see Umemiya x_x)

Audio guide 3: The trio see a cat, and they discuss the Shishitoren members. According to Nirei’s notebook, Choji claims to understand cats, and there’s also some discussion about how Hiiragi and Sako had a past together, and they also talked about Togame and Sakura’s fight. Sakura comments that the fight he had this time felt different from those he had in the past, and Suo tells Sakura that he has climbed the staircase to adulthood while petting his head. Sakura gets all pissy (like a cat) and tells Suo to stop petting him like a cat. (LMAO)

Section 4: Pothos

There’s a recreation of the bar counter at Pothos here! (I also have a photo with myself here, request by DMs from moots only) You can sit here for photos, and they even recreated the omurice and coffee!!!

Audio guide 4: This takes place at Pothos. The trio have come to get some food, but Kotoha is out for now. Nirei quizzes the other two about what Kotoha likes, and the answer is that she likes taking care of plants. Kotoha returns, and the audio guide ends.

Section 5: Umemiya and the Shitenou

This section introduces you to the four kings! The scroll with the Boufuurin structure is super cool www.

It’s also super nice that they have the panel with Umemiya and the four kings in life-size!!! It’s almost like Umemiya is speaking straight to you ;-:

Audio guide 5: The trio discuss facts about Umemiya and Hiiragi. They warn you not to follow Hiiragi’s way of spamming Gascon 10, and discuss a bit about the role of grade captain. In a throwback to Sakura wanting to become the top (Teppen), they called the role of being the grad captain the Teppen of their class too. (SO CUTEEEE ;-; SAKURA IS SO LOVED)

Section 6: KEEL

This is the keel arc, and there’s this super cool wall with the Keel logo. The whole area was also decorated to look like the warehouse where the fight took place! You can see how the walls were made to look like the sheet metal in the warehouse.

They also have the panel of Kaji-paisen coming to the rescue in a life-sized board!!!

But I think the coolest panel is the first years in mid-fight!

Audio guide 6: Nirei is almost run over by a car!!! Nirei and Suo warn Sakura about watching out for Keel, and they discuss the traits of Keel. There’s also a bit of discussion about Kaji-paisen; the headphones seem to be a gift from someone important to him ^_^

Extra: Special video

No photos or recordings are allowed for this section, but it’s a video compilation voiced by Sakura about the growth he experienced up till the Keel arc ;-; it starts with how he was alone, and gains many dependable friends in Boufuurin, and how he’s no longer alone ;-; it is very beautifully thought out and created, and I really loved how poignant and moving the piano soundtrack was ;-;

Section 7: Roppo-Ichiza

This entire section looks like a night club, with all the blue lighting and use of metal grilles. There’s profiles of Tsubaki-chan, Kanji (forgot to take a pic of his oops) and Suzuri here (this one’s for you @/kafkaoftherubble!!!)

Audio guide 7: The trio start by talking about Gravel and the nature of the group. They also talk about Roppo-Ichiza, and mention that Umemiya and Nakamura (Kanji, not Yuuichiro www) know each other personally. When Nirei and Suo comment that Tsubaki-chan could be meeting someone she likes in the Roppo Ichiza area, Sakura starts stammering and blushing. (YOU CAN HEAR THE BLUSH SO MUCH)

Section 8: Umemiya’s past

THIS IS MY FAVE SECTION BTW I TOOK SO MANY PICS HERE.

A small note that the notebook with “8” on it marks the points where there is an audio guide track! The audio guide specifically describes this section with the two scrolls:

Audio guide 8: Nirei starts the ball rolling on the past of the current Boufuurin. For the first part, he reads the text in the two scrolls in a super exaggerated and old-fashioned (think Kabuki-style without the elongated syllables!) manner. Suo observes that Nirei really likes the town, and Sakura says that he will protect the town.

ALSO THIS IS HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAVOURITE ILLUSTRATION BOARDS THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE EXHIBITION

ALSO THIS. PLEASE LOOK AT THIS.

Section 9: FRANK

At the time of the exhibition, this arc was still ongoing! Only the first part where Boufuurin is prepping for the fight is featured.

I also LOVE this cover art, I’m so glad they have a big version of it here!!

They also reproduced the briefing by Mizuki about the plan to protect the town! The projector will also show a QR code that you can scan which takes you to a web page that replicates the LINE group chat created by Mizuki for Boufuurin. (Available by request by DMs, moots only)

(edit 22 October 2024) I tried scanning the QR code here^, it brings you to the first chapter of Wind Breaker on Magazine Pocket lmao.

Some of the manga panels and art featuring the start of the fights is also featured here!

Audio guide 9: Note that this is actually an epilogue to the exhibition that does not touch on this arc. The trio say the Boufuurin motto. The cat from audio guide 3 gets ahold of Nirei’s notebook, and Sakura chases after it!

Extra: Anime-related content

For this section, photos are not allowed. The OP and ED videos are showed, and there’s a wall of 16 shikishi (signature boards) from the voice actors, production staff, and even natori and Young Keel! The shikishi which really stood out to me was Suzuki Ryouta’s (Hiiragi’s seiyuu), he wrote “Gascon Ten?” (HELP I’M CRYING) (t/n: This is a very dumb pun. In Japanese, the Wind Breaker Exhibition is called “WinBreTen” for short, as 展＝てん＝pronounced as “ten” = exhibition.)

Merch haul

I bought an aggressive amount of merch from the exhibition, and surprisingly my favourite piece isn’t anything Umemiya related, but it’s Nirei’s notebook. It’s super cute that it’s marked as Nirei’s own notebook, and even includes all the character profiles until Tsubaki-chan!!!

Also the finger puppets were available starting from the Kyoto exhibition, I’m SO GLAD I managed to get one.

Other significant stuff I bought of note: Yakiniku Teishoku t-shirt (I am wearing it as I type this lmao), WinBre10 candies (IT’S THAT PUN AGAIN HELPPPP). There’s a couple other things I got but these are the more interesting ones www

And that’s it! Thank you for sticking through with my very long post with an aggressive amount of simping for Umemiya. I hope you’ve enjoyed it and managed to get a glimpse of what it was like! I rate it Gascon10/Winbre10, will go again (I’ve been infected by Suzuki Ryouta).

#wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker anime #windbreaker #wbktimely #wbk

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