#should you get the new iphone 14

[whokilledjared]

the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself. (& takes on social media)

Hi.

I'm lonely.

The moment I got "two weeks off school" in sophomore year, life went to 4x speed & I can't turn it off no matter how hard I try.

Maybe COVID-19 adolescence did numbers on me. Somewhere between the iPhone 5c and ChatGPT, 14-hour screen times have live-streamed to me a steady, homogenous death of culture.

Nothing is cool anymore. Nothing is sacred. Every movement is a trend, and every cult classic a sequel.

The value we place on things being beautiful, on being "cool," and our gatekept appreciation of how hard these things were to find: it's been co-opted, or perhaps stolen. It's been stolen by the new merchant class. "Disruptors" and "innovators" turning our lives into a burgeoning black mirror prequel. Soon, we'll graduate too, and we'll wring every morsel of value in each others' lives dry for cash.

Plain and simple, I think we're being manipulated.

Your dates are an algorithm. Your music is a social signal. And Zuck knows when you sleep.*

God. What the fuck are we doing???

“Individuation is becoming the thing which is not the ego, and that is very strange.” — Carl Jung

Recently, I deleted Instagram. My first impulse was to post a story or something, announcing my departure. But then, I thought that would be lame.

I got rid of my account, too. Kinda. Over 1 year, over 800 followers removed, and what remains of me is a little grey icon, and "JM_0000000010" where my name and face used to be.

yay.

There were many people I wish I could have been friends with, but I wonder, too, why I find myself so drawn to the validation of others. Does social media affect me worse, or do we all just choose to ignore it, languishing in private?

At any rate, this last year has almost felt like re-learning how to be a human being.

Personally, I think one of the biggest markers for maturity is when you become willing to disappoint the people you know in favor of what feels right to you, when you start to unravel the stories you’ve told yourself (or been told) about who you are and what you should be. In short, the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself.

And sometimes, I think about every college student that has ever lived. My grandmother, my dad, and so on. Just consider for a moment all kids who graduated before 2010:

What was it like for the ones in 1940? To walk around, before a campus had computers? In 2006: To meet someone pretty, but forget their number? In 1999: To cram into dorms, and watch Seinfeld live on-air?

Would I, like my dad in 1988, have braved cold night, brisk wind, & landline phone-call just to knock and see if my friends were too busy to hang?

What stories could I tell if there was even the slightest chance of getting lost on the way home from a party?

Humans are social creatures. We crave our friends like water. To me, the clearest difference between Dasani and Instagram is that one of them comes in a bottle.

Yet despite these distractions and comforts we have in 2024, somehow, we still have engineering students. People who carve out time in their day to sit down, look at paper, and solve differential equations. But then, that's not so hard, is it? It just takes time. Precious, fucking, time.

At Meta, leagues and leagues of these engineers power behavioral scientists, who are competing for the highest salary. Their benchmarks? Your FOMO. Guilt. Anxiety. Obsession. The worse you feel, the more you engage with their content. The more you engage with their content, well, you're starting to get the point.

Try something for me: Open up Instagram, but don't tap anything. What happens? How many little animations? How many tiny nudges prompting you to get lost? Our home-pages are billion-dollar diving boards, hoisting us over engineered catacombs of subconscious quicksand.

My homepage is my FOMO, my envy, and my crushes. The pain and struggle of trying to be someone who I am not. My little existential crises, bundled-up, packaged, and shipped with a like button.

To abandon your social networks entirely, however, requires a safety net of close friends. After all, your friends are online, and you'd be miserable without them.

This is the problem with our monkey brains. Millennia of sociological natural-selection have made us quite great at feeling terrible. We're damn good at making tribal status games to play with, too.

Seeking refuge in quirked up septum piercings and boygenius listeners, my time in counter-cultural, alternative "scenes" between St. Louis and Tampa has shown me that even the weirdest of folks and the most removed can accidentally find themselves reduced to nothing more than high-school popularity contests. Even if I love them. Even if they're amazing people. We're human.

We can't "quit social media" as much as we can't "quit bottled water" Sure, we can, but it's inconvenient. And even without a bottle, we're still drinking water.

So I lost touch with my friends. I got no new updates on their lives. I forced myself into the inconvenience of not having a phone to reach for in fleeting moments of boredom. Suddenly, I was out of the loop. Suddenly, I was bored. And suddenly, nobody missed me. My only friends were the ones I had the time to text. Everyone else ... does not exist.

Weekends have become more valuable than ever. Without the empty social calories of seeing my friends' pictures, I find myself planning hangouts as often as my schedule allows. I have more lunches, more study sessions, and more is done in the company of less.

And I have the time to breathe.

And in this calm, I think I found my answer: it's my misplaced ambition. These fears of anxiety and people I thought I would miss, they seem represent something I want to see more of within myself. Something I want to develop, lean into more deeply, as an individual. And I think that's quite normal; to look out into the world and feel attracted to things we want to see more of. This is, I think, how everyone develops their own definition of beauty — and of coolness. It's largely the intersection of what we find most interesting, and what we want to see more of in the world. Because beauty and coolness, by definition, are rare and hard to find. If they were everywhere, nothing be beautiful, nor would anything be cool.

When we all turn into wrinkles and cataracts, bad backs and heart attacks, for a brief, glorious moment, our lives are going to flash before our eyes. In this moment, you'll see your story. The ultimate progression of you.

How much of that will be skibidi toilet and reaction clips? How much of that will be arguing on the internet? Can you tell me, just how much of your life will you have skipped over to pacify your intentionally-lowered attention span?

That girl whose number you couldn't find Those passing questions over coffee that you couldn't search on Google The boredom of a subway ride

Those are not inconveniences, they're what the older generations refer to as "life."

* (oh, but if you can't sleep, consider this aside: Google knows the angle you walk at, how fast you're walking, and they've got crowdsourced pictures of everywhere around you at all times of the day. fun bedtime thoughts <3)

[queerfootfella]

Ethan lagged behind Braeden as the 23-year-old led his buddy down a bike trail in the local park. Sweaty from walking in the muggy weather, Ethan wiped his forehead. The reason for the trip was to muck up Braeden’s feet, so he was glad the weather was good for something. A generous request for a video of Braeden’s dirty feet was submitted to his OnlyFans. Ethan was his only friend who knew about this stream of income and was happy to oblige when he asked for help.

“Why don’t you start shooting here, dude?” suggested Braeden. “I haven’t seen anybody pass for a while. Get low to the ground and focus on my feet,”

“Got it. You gonna tell me when to stop, or should I film all the way to the bench?”

“All the way to the bench, then we can stop. I need to put my little microphone on for the verbal part,”

“Sounds good. I’ll count you down when you’re ready,”

“Thanks again for doing this, dude. I don’t know how I would have filmed this on my own. Ready to go when you are,”

“No problem! Okay – five, four, three, two,” said Ethan as he sank into a squat. He whispered one and Braeden slowed his gait so his cameraman could keep up. He tapped the feet on the center of Braeden’s iPhone 14 to focus the camera and hit record.

Finally, Ethan thought, Braeden was telling him to look at his feet. He’d made a nasty habit lately out of coveting them secretly. It wasn’t just the feet themselves that drove him crazy, though they were certainly beautiful – size 13, long toes, smooth soles, and well-defined arches. No, what mesmerized Ethan was the way Braeden endlessly moved his feet. If his feet were out in front of him, he would curl and spread his toes. When he was sitting with his feet beneath him, he would use his hands to stretch his toes and crack his knuckles; he liked to use his big toe to pop his second when his hands weren’t within reach. The motion of and attention to his own feet was near constant, and Ethan had a tough time not fixating on it.

Now that he was behind a camera, his job was to document those very toe fidgets and sole scrunches. Just watching him walk was so hot, how to film them came naturally.  Every few steps, Braeden would slow to just before a stop. Sometimes, he’d leave one foot in mid-step to show the camera his progressively grimier soles. Each time he stopped, Ethan inched toward them until the bare foot was front and center. He held on to every detail until Braeden walked again. With each fresh start, Ethan found a new angle to feature. Once, he focused on his legs and ass walking. Another time, he moved slightly in front of him to show the tops of his feet. It felt like a dance: Ethan’s partner was the air between Braeden’s soles and the ground and the beat was feet slapping against concrete.

As Braeden turned toward the destination bench and off the pavement, he measured his steps even more precisely. Ethan made a point of getting a close shot of his soles walking across actual earth. Rocks were sticking to his sweaty soles. They looked even more pillowy with pebbles sinking into them. Ethan circled around to film in front of Braeden as he approached the bench. He sat and crossed one foot over the other, which Ethan zoomed in close on. He pulled the camera outward until just before his head was in frame and hit the record button once more.

“And, cut!” said Ethan, “You wanna see it?”

“Yeah, actually. If it didn’t turn out, we can try again on the walk back,” Braeden took his phone back from Ethan.

“I hope it did, my legs are fucking tired from that squat shit,”

Braeden laughed and sat down on the bench, flexing his foot. “I appreciate it so much, man. Imagine trying to film this by yourself with a selfie stick! I would look insane if I got caught. At least this way, you could back me up and tell them I’m doing it for money,”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know what to say if I got caught like that,” Ethan said. It would be a dream to catch you filming your own feet in the park and I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from licking them, he thought.

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Soon after he met Braeden in college, Ethan noticed how nice his feet were. He always noticed how nice people’s feet were. Generally, he tried to avoid taking too keen an interest in his friends’ feet. Foot fetishists have a creepy reputation already, and Ethan didn’t want to be thought of like that. Besides that, Ethan had gotten close with Braeden. He wasn’t about to ruin a good friendship because he wanted to suck toes. There were plenty of other toes to suck.

However, one afternoon at Braeden’s apartment, he got a little too nosy. Ethan had always wondered how he afforded so many shoes and video games. The few times he asked about it, Braeden was dodgy. Never close to a satisfactory answer. He’d always had more money than Ethan and their other friends in college, and Braeden claimed for years that all he did was wait tables.

“Okay, seriously, how did you afford a new PC? Didn’t you get a PS5 like six months ago?”

“Working at the restaurant, dude! People like to tip young, strapping men like yours truly,”

“Of course,” Ethan laughed, “but it’s not just the games, or even the shoes and the games. I mean, this apartment is nice as hell! And we hang out too much for you to work much more than like 25 or 30 hours a week. I don’t want to pry, but I’ve always wondered. I’ll only judge if it sounds exceptionally dangerous,”

Braeden looked at Ethan for a few seconds. “Okay, fine. But this stays between us,”

“Of course! I’m not looking for gossip. Maybe some finance tips,”

“So, um. Have you ever heard of BraxTheeAlpha on Onlyfans?”

Ethan roared, “No way! I haven’t heard of him, but he sounds hot,”

“He’s sort of a hunk, yeah,”

“Is it safe to assume you are Brax?”

“In the flesh,” said Braeden, cartoonishly flexing, “Is it really that surprising?”

“Well, yes and no. I mean, like LMFAO said, you’re sexy and you know it. I just didn’t take you for the type, I guess. I don’t know what the type is, exactly,”

“Young, hot and sort of broke?”

“I’d throw vein in there,” he said, and laughed as Braeden started flexing again, “So, I have two follow up questions,”

“Yes, you can subscribe. It’s ten bucks a month,”

“Wow, affordable!” Ethan took out his phone and pretended to start looking it up, “How do you spell that?”

“B-r-a-x and ‘Thee Alpha’ like ‘Thee Stallion’. No spaces,”

“Got it. I’ll need that for my research,” he said. Lying is easier when you just tell the truth as a joke, thought Ethan.

“Looking to invest in a local, humble sex worker?”

“No, just trying to figure out how much money my friend makes from selling access to what type of pornography,”

“Okay, I’ll start with the less embarrassing part. I make about six thousand a month from posting: fourty-five hundred or so from monthly subscriptions and around two thousand from tips, used socks, custom videos, other fetishy content. Give or take a couple hundred,”

“Damn, that is definitely not embarrassing,”

“Nah, it’s tight. But I make… foot fetish videos,”

Ethan’s eyes got wide. “Damn, no way! I knew people liked feet, but I didn’t realize you could cash in like that without showing hole,” he lied. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing,”

Braeden laughed, “Well, I guess I don’t think of it like that as much anymore. I mean, the feet are where the money’s at. There’s just that connotation, you know? I got a couple foot people in my Instagram comments and DM’s freshman year of college. I thought it was super weird and just hid the comments at first. Then, some of them started offering money. I got talking to this one dude who bought pictures and he told me I should start a foot page or OnlyFans or something. Eventually, I did. It started as something to do for a little extra spending money, but the shit took off after a couple years of doing it. Now, I have this whole separate online foot master persona. When I graduated college, I just told my boss I was gonna take an extra two years for a graduate program and needed to stay part time. I do like 20 hours a week at the restaurant, but most of my money comes from the same amount of time doing stuff for the OnlyFans. If it keeps going well, I might just do it full time,”

“Damn, I don’t blame you if you’re making that much. Still, 20 hours a week? What takes so long?”

“Well, I’m counting going to the gym. I always wanted to go more during college anyway, and these foot dudes will pay for your used socks, sweaty underwear, videos of my feet in the gym mirror – they love that jock alpha shit. The more in shape I am, the more money I make. Filming and editing the videos takes some time, posting on Twitter, Instagram and OnlyFans regularly, responding to DM’s, video calls. I’ve had to coordinate a couple meetups with people to film videos. It’s all pretty fun, to be honest. I’ve gotten into it more than I ever thought I would. Plus, it’s way easier than finding a ‘real job’.”

“Honestly, dude, that’s sweet. If you like doing it and you can make that much with it, why not,” Ethan thought he was holding it together pretty well.

Relieved, Braeden reached over to slap Ethan’s hand and said, “Thanks, man! I’m honestly glad you asked. It feels good to tell somebody in real life,”

“Yeah, dude, glad you told me! I can’t believe I’ve been hanging out with a foot celebrity for all these years,”

“Y’know, since you reacted so cool, do you think you’d ever be willing to help me film some things? I can get most of it done on my own, but I’ve had to decline a few offers because I couldn’t film something right. I’d give you a quarter of the profit from whatever videos you help with,”

“Oh, sure, dude, whatever you need!” That felt too eager. “Well, maybe not anything,” he turned red and added, “but I can help you film for a little money,”

“Nothing too crazy, I just need somebody to film while I’m walking or moving or whatever. Or while somebody is licking my feet. You don’t have to get your tongue dirty if you don’t want to,” Braeden winked, his last sentence delivered with a bit of BraxTheeAlpha arrogance.

“I can help with the camera, I would need a bigger cut of the money to go that far,” Ethan laughed, his cheeks ripening still.

“Nah, I have plenty of people willing to do that part for free,”

“Clearly! They pay you just to look at them,”

“Exactly. You’ll have to do a lot more than lick my feet and help me film here and there to get a chunk of the BraxTheeAlpha empire,” Braeden’s joking condescension felt more genuine with each sentence.

Ethan felt compelled to follow this dominant streak to see where it might lead, but he couldn’t bring himself to submit to his friend like that. “Alrighty, if the all-powerful BraxTheeAlpha needs any help taking videos of his feet for horny men on the internet, he can let me know,” Ethan chided.

Braeden laughed hard at that and said, “For sure, man, I will,”

Ethan waited three days to subscribe to BraxTheeAlpha on OnlyFans after that. His username was EthanLovesToes, but his profile picture was of an anonymous man’s feet and his page contained no identifying information. The topic never came up between them, so Ethan assumed Braeden didn’t make the connection. The thought of telling Braeden about his foot fetish crossed Ethan’s mind pretty often once he knew about his profession. On one hand, he loved Braeden as a friend. They were both single, open-minded people, but they’d never had a sexual relationship at all. On top of that, Ethan wasn’t sure how much, if any, of Braeden’s motivation for running the page was sexual. At the same time, Ethan couldn’t help but think about the potential of getting more intimate with Braeden’s feet.

The first time Braeden asked for help was about two weeks after Ethan found out about BraxTheeAlpha. They were hanging out at Braeden’s apartment and about an hour in, Braeden told him that he either needed to leave within ten minutes or record somebody worshipping his feet. Ethan agreed to stay. The man was only there for about half an hour and Ethan, the only person there not wearing an elastic mask, was introduced as ‘Master’s friend and cameraman’. Although there was a dream scenario unfolding in front of him, Ethan’s focus was strictly on filming a good video; as much as he could, he tuned out the verbal admonishment Braeden’s sub was receiving. He knew he’d be able to watch the video later on, he figured, why risk popping a hardon? What if he got too horny and outed his fetish? When the man left the guys joked around about it for a bit, but Ethan changed the subject as soon as he could. Just keep saying yes, Ethan reasoned, even if you never do anything but help him film here and there, maybe an opportunity will present itself. Braeden asked him to help record a video of him walking barefoot in Carson Park the next week.

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“Speaking of not knowing what to say, try not to get weirded out by the dirty feet talk you’re about to hear. The dude who bought this video said don’t hold back on the humiliation,” said Braeden as he handed his phone back to Ethan, “That looks great, by the way. That would have been impossible for me to get alone,”

“All in a day’s work,” Ethan said with a coy smile.

“I’m impressed you know how these foot freaks like their videos. It took a lot of trial and error, and comments and DMs from horny foot dudes, for me to figure it out,”

“Heh, I guess I just have an artist’s eye,” Braeden laughed at that, and Ethan hoped that meant he played it off well.

“I’ll say,” he replied. “Okay, frame it so my feet are about center, and make sure it cuts off somewhere between my shoulders and neck,” Braeden dug around in his canvas tote until he found his microphone. “Oh, and feel free to move the camera around a little bit, but make sure stick around for a while on each angle. I need to get screenshots for the socials,”

“What a marketing king. Tell me when you’re ready,”

“Ready!”

“Okay – five, four, three, two,” he pointed at Braeden and hit record. Though he’d been scrunching his toes absentmindedly since he sat down, Braeden started exaggerating the stretches and wiggles for the camera.

He began, “I hope you knew what you were in for when you asked to clean my dirty feet, boy. These fuckers need a lot of TLC. You’re not finished until every inch is spotless,”

With that, Ethan brought the camera in close and swept the view across Braeden’s soles to show all the dirt some internet sub paid to imagine he was cleaning.

After a robust silence filled with a medley of teasing foot wiggles, Braeden continued, “It’s probably killing you that you can’t do anything about it. Helplessly masturbating behind a screen, knowing that a washcloth in my shower is going to receive the honor of revealing the smooth soles beneath this dirt instead of your tongue,”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he had gotten into this, Ethan thought. The first time he filmed, having to focus on shooting Braeden’s feet around some dude’s head helped keep him from getting into the content. Today, it was just him and the dirty soles of BraxTheeAlpha. Ethan pulled the camera back a bit. Taking his body with the phone, he lowered the camera below Braeden’s crossed soles. He made sure the shot was focused, then looked up at Braeden for the first time since the video began. The self-assured smile on his face made Ethan’s dick twitch. His eyes shot back at the phone.

“How sad. I’m sure you’re fucking leaking just imagining this dirt,” he rubbed his feet together, “sprinkling onto your pathetic face,” Braeden spat at the ground. The loogie landed less than a foot from Ethan’s face. “Loser,” Ethan looked for Braeden’s eyes after that line and found them staring back at him. Braeden maintained that cocky expression and resumed, “I mean, seriously. Aren’t you like 50 and married? And you’re paying some 23-year-old on OnlyFans $50 for two three-minute videos of his filthy feet? You could take that money and go spend a nice date night with your wife, or maybe save it up for a gift for her. Instead, you want to give it to me, so you can pound your piggy little cock looking at my fuckin’ feet,” Braeden laughed at the idea, “That’s incredible, truly. At this rate, I can’t imagine what you would pay me to come treat you like the dog you are in real life. You’d probably even let me fuck that wife of yours if I wanted to! For now, I’m happy just fucking your wallet,”

Despite the specificities, Ethan was just as hypnotized by the degradation as he imagined the cuck buying the video would be. He was fully hard by the end of the monologue and had to get creative to make his final camera angle shift without showing it. He backed the camera up as he moved into a squat, dick secure against his waistband, and panned the camera upward.

“Come back down here, bitch, I need you up close and personal. You have to kiss the soles gracing your screen before I finish up,” Albeit he was making eye contact before, this statement felt more like it was directed at the customer and the cameraman. He looked up to see Braeden smile and wink, then motion his head downward, eyebrows raised. Ethan did as he was instructed and sank back into his previous position.

“There you go. C’mon, even closer,” Ethan scooted forward, his hand now an inch from the evaporating loogie, “Now plant a big wet kiss on that screen, pig. Mhm, good boy,” Braeden raised his feet in the air, “Now wave goodbye! Oh, I forgot to mention, you owe me $25 if you came the first time through,”

Braeden set his feet down, but Ethan kept filming. He barely noticed Braeden was trying to wrap it up he was so fixated on the iPhone screen.

“Cut, buddy! That was over three minutes, right?”

Ethan scrambled to end the recording and check. He stammered, “Uh, yeah, it was 3:23,” and hopped to his feet. His brain was having trouble breaking out of BraxTheeAlpha’s enchantment.

“Sweet! I hope it wasn’t too weird that I was looking at you. It helped me get into the verbal, so thanks,” Braeden’s expression had softened some, but with his ankles crossed and soles facing him, he still carried a superior glow.

“Oh yeah, man, it was, uh, I mean, I sorta figured that,”

“Let me see the video, dude!”

Ethan handed him the phone and Braeden started skimming through. He brushed the dirt off his shirt. “I tried to get a couple different angles,”

“You did!” he said, scrubbing through, “I like it. And this last one will be great for the screenshots. Okay, great, let’s get out of here,” Braeden unclipped his microphone and returned it to the bag. After he pulled out his slides, he brushed the dirt off his soles and placed each foot in a sandal. “You good, dude? You’re kind of staring,”

“Yeah, um, I was just waiting for you,”

“Look man. If you’re not gonna say it, I need to ask – are you into feet?”

“How – what?”

“So yes, then,” Braeden paused for a response and continued when he didn’t get one, “It’s not a big deal! I love dudes with foot fetishes. I mean, I’ve made a career off the guys, for god’s sake,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I didn’t want you to think me being into your feet was part of why we were friends or anything like that, but when you told me about this and asked for help, I couldn’t say no,”

“Oh, I could tell! I had absolutely no idea you were into feet before you were excited to help me film so quickly. I’d assume if you were perving on my feet before that, you would have done something creepy already,”

“You knew that long ago?”

“Well, no, but that was the first little clue. Then, I thought it was a funny coincidence that somebody called EthanLovesToes subscribed to me just a few days after I told you about the page,”

“I figured that Ethan’s a common name…”

“Right, so did I. I didn’t even think much of it when that worship video turned out so good, because I figured the idea of filming the feet and not the head was pretty easy. It was when the video of my soles walking was so perfect. It took forever for me to get how I should film for the OnlyFans. After that, it all sort of came together in my brain. So, during the video, I made sure to pay attention to how you were reacting. When I say visibly horny, I need you to know just how much I mean that,”

Ethan’s face burned through his shy smile. “I was trying so hard to hide it!” he said, and Braeden laughed.

“Well,” Braeden stood up and walked over to Ethan, “there’s not a ton of great ways to hide that,” he said, pointing to the vertical lump in Ethan’s shorts.

“Listen,”

“Let’s walk back to the car. I have way too many ideas, and as much as you love my feet, I don’t know if you want the world to see those ideas,”

“Okay…” of course, Ethan was going to follow. He just couldn’t find any words. He would pay good money to watch the porno flick that he was living and breathing. The two started back toward the parking lot, toward a situation too good to be true.

“Do you have any other plans today, bud?”

“Um, not really. I was just gonna go play some games when we were done hanging,”

“Perfect! What game are you playing right now?”

“Oh, nothing new, just Dota,”

Braeden kept the small talk going as Ethan tried to make sure this was all still real. He wasn’t dumb; he knew Braeden finding out was a possibility. What he couldn’t believe was how perceptive he had been. The boner was a bit of a giveaway, but it sounded like Braeden knew before that. Regardless, judging by his reaction, Ethan should have drooled over them from the start.

As the driver’s side door closed, Ethan opened his door. By the time he was sitting, Braeden’s dirtied feet were hovering above the seat. He waited to get in and looked at his friend behind the wheel.

“Go on and sit down, Ethan! If at any point I go too far, say ‘banana’, and we can split,”

“Very clever safe word,” he said, sliding underneath his feet. There wasn’t much loose dirt left sticking to them, but his soles were still stained brown. “I never thought I’d say something like that to you,” Ethan chuckled.

“Same here, but sexy times call for sexy measures! Here’s the deal, Ethan: BraxTheeAlpha has been growing, but I haven’t been able to find the extra time to spend on it. I’m gaining followers, but I know if I were posting more often, and added new types of content, I could grow even faster and net more money from that growth. That’s where I see you coming in. Start massaging my feet if you’re intrigued,”

Ethan let hardly a second pass before he grabbed Braeden’s left foot and began to rub.

“Great! So, it’s been a struggle to find anyone because, while I make good money, I don’t make enough to lop off a living wage to pay somebody to help me out,” Ethan switched to Braeden’s right foot, “The only subs I talk to online who I think would do it for, let’s say alternative compensation, live too far away for that to be possible. Pop my right big toe in your mouth and start sucking if you see where I’m going and want to hear what I have in mind,”

This time, Ethan hesitated. Braeden just raised his eyebrows and waited, pointing the toe toward him. Timidly, Ethan leaned forward. He let his lips rest on the top of Braeden’s toe for a moment before he welcomed it into his mouth.

“I want you to record and edit all my pictures and videos,” Braeden began, maintaining eye contact as Ethan listened to his potential duties and swirled his tongue around the big toe. “We can schedule one or two times a week to record. I’ll still come up with some ideas for content, but I definitely want your input. You’ll manage my Instagram, Twitter and OnlyFans as well. Still interested, Ethan?”

He nearly spat Braeden’s toe out before he realized he wasn’t given a new command. Ethan nodded.

“Good – you had the right idea, left big toe now,”

Ethan’s right hand kept a grip on Braeden’s sole as he pulled the cleaned toe from his mouth. He used his other hand to bring his left toe to his mouth for the same treatment.

“Each new video, unless it’s a custom, needs to have a preview posted. I’ll leave editing them down to your discretion, just make sure it’s hard to cum without the full video,” Ethan laughed through the toe at that requirement. Braeden smiled and reasoned, “It’s good business!”

He took the toe out of his mouth but left his lips brushing against the bottom. “Hey, you’re the expert, I believe you,” said Ethan. When he finished speaking, he put it back in to signal Braeden to continue.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he snickered, “Sometimes I’ll just do a photoshoot – I like those to be between 15 and 20 pictures. Post one to four on Twitter and Instagram. For either video or photo previews, use the OnlyFans caption for the post and link the OnlyFans in the replies on Twitter and on Instagram Stories. I’d imagine you’re still in – start giving my other toes some love if I’m right,”

With a smack, Ethan removed the big toe and eyed up the second. First, he darted his tongue in the space between the toes. Satisfied it was clean, he engulfed the second toe and looked back toward Braeden.

“Ethan, I think you may be the man for this job,” Ethan smiled and started cleaning between Braeden’s second and third toe. “A couple more things, though. Like I said, I’ll still come up with ideas for videos, but I want you to compile any ideas or custom requests you find in my replies or my DM’s. Bring them to our recording sessions, as well as any messages or comments you think I might want to respond to personally. I’ll start signing the posts and replies that come directly from me,” he paused and waited for Ethan to look up from sucking the life out of his middle-left toe. “I hope you’re listening,” Ethan nodded, “and I hope you remember I have two more toes on this foot alone,” Braeden teased.

“The thought of it is making it a bit harder to focus,” Ethan admitted.

“You should have plenty of quality time with them to come,” Braeden said, and Ethan slipped his tongue in between the third and fourth toe, “but we have an interview to finish before I offer you this gig,”

“Fair enough, fire away,” Ethan said as he dove onto the fourth toe. He felt Braeden’s pinkie toe wiggling against his cheek.

“I also want you to respond to some of the spammy DM’s and comments. You’re a foot guy, I’m sure you’ll figure that out quickly. I think that’s it for the job description, let’s talk compensation,”

Ethan finished scrubbing between Braeden’s final two toes and said, “I hope I’m getting a preview of the employee benefits right now,” he said, finally taking the pinkie toe in and sucking.

“You read my mind! Specifically, if you don’t feel comfortable being on camera, I’m willing to offer an hour a week after a recording session for you to have your way with them as payment,”

With a sloppy, deliberate slurp, Ethan pulled all five of the toes on Braeden’s left foot out of his mouth and asked, “Can I start sucking the toes on your other foot to find out what I get if I am willing to be on video?” Braeden grinned and nodded, and Ethan dove in.

“I knew I sensed something special in you! Not every video will be a worship video, but a hell of a lot of them will be. If you want to wear a mask, you’re more than welcome. Of course, let me know if a video brushes up on a limit. On top of the private foot worship, I’ll throw in a cut of the profits. If I can make $7k a month, I can quit the restaurant and not lose any money. Anything I make beyond that is yours until we get to a 50/50 split. If you agree to that, I want both of my big toes in your mouth,”

Although he wasn’t even done with the third toe, Ethan couldn’t comply with Braeden’s demand faster. He started sucking both toes and Braeden pinched his cheeks with his big toes and second toes and pulled Ethan in towards him.

“This is going to be a very fun situation for the both of us,” he sneered and pulled his toes out of Ethan’s mouth. Braeden tapped his cheek firmly with the sole of his foot. “I’ll write up an official contract for us to sign next time we meet up,” he said. Ethan started to respond, but Braeden shushed him and placed both soles over his face. He continued, “I’ve been pretty cordial with this so far, but there’s one aspect I haven’t touched. You’re going to have to get comfortable with submitting to me on a regular basis. Nod if you understand,”

After Ethan nodded, Braeden extended his legs and pushed his head back until it was against the window.

“Start licking my soles,” Ethan opened his mouth wide and wiped his tongue against every square inch he could reach in his compromised position. Braeden continued, “We can still be friends, but this arrangement will be more intense than just friends with benefits. Outside of filming sessions, I’ll still call you Ethan and you can call me Braeden. We can hang out and play games! I also want our correspondence during the week about posting to remain professional. However, during filming sessions, from the second you walk in my door until we’re done filming, I will expect a total shift in the power dynamic. You will address me as either Sir or Master, and I will call you whatever demeaning name I see fit. I’ll establish an itinerary before the session, which will begin with your list of custom requests and video suggestions, and we will remain in our Dom and sub roles until the itinerary is complete. Between filming actual videos, I will expect you to remain subservient. You will be instructed to complete tasks outside of what will be posted online. For at least eight hours a week – no mandatory overtime, but there will probably be requests – you will be mine. Since you have tonight free, that begins right now. If you understand, hold my legs up and start licking the rest of my soles clean, boy,”

“Yes, sir,” said Ethan. He took Braeden’s calves in his hands and pulled them from his face, but before he could continue cleaning, his Master delivered a swift slap to his right cheek with his sole. The kick came with far more force than the tap he had just received.

“Remember the safe word, boy, and make sure you thank me when I give you a command,”

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Master,” if it weren’t for his stinging face, Ethan would have pinched himself. With a new fervor from the hit, he dove back in to continue sucking the dirt off Braeden’s soles.

“Good piggy. You’re even more of a duck to water than I’d have thought,” he lifted his foot slightly and bent his toes toward him. Instantly, Ethan started sucking his heel and Braeden laughed. “A duck to water,” he repeated, still chuckling, “I can’t believe I missed out on this for five years,”

Once the heel he’d been offered was clean, Ethan moved Braeden’s feet to the side and said, “Thank you, Sir, I’m so excited to get started.

Braeden giggled and raised his feet back up, “That’s how I know this is going to work out,” he said, then pointed the other heel toward Ethan, who promptly took it upon himself to begin cleaning, “you learned from that slap. Plus, you’re already picking up on those nonverbal cues,” Braeden paused for a moment and Ethan kept licking. Dissatisfied, he took his other foot and slapped Ethan’s left cheek.

“Sorry, Sir. Thank you for the compliment, Master,” Ethan rushed in response before returning to his task. It wasn’t as hard as the first, but still plenty strong enough to relay the message.

“I might have spoken too soon! Try to learn from the slap this time. Now that I’ve got your verbal agreement, we can move onto some foot sub training. It might be a little painful, but I’ll try to avoid visible bruises,”

“Respectfully, Sir, that would be a banana,” Ethan said softly between licks.

“Fair enough, boy, I figured as much. Glad you said it. Though, it’s not gonna be smooth sailing,” he said. To make his point, he took his foot out of Ethan’s mouth and twisted his nipple with his toes through his shirt, causing him to yelp. “Work on cleaning the other foot if you understand,”

Ethan thanked his Master and pulled Braeden’s right foot to his face. Once the toes Ethan hadn’t gotten to clean already were in his mouth, Braeden let go of his nipple.

“Fantastic,” Braeden pulled out his phone and scrolled for a minute while Ethan worked on getting his spotless. The heels and toes were looking clean, so Ethan moved on to the side of Braeden’s right foot. He lowered his phone and gazed out the window, then said, “Sun’s gonna set in about 20 minutes, which means the park’s gonna close. My feet should be clean enough to put back in my sandals by then. If they’re not, you’ll drive me home, get in your car and leave to go edit and send the videos we just made. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so unless you have plans you absolutely can’t get out of, I’ll expect you at seven A.M. sharp to start filming. Well, we’ll start filming time – I’ll have a list of chores and a key under the mat. That should keep you busy until you wake me up at nine to start your, oh, I guess we can call it an orientation,”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Ethan, speaking between licks more fervent than before, “but what if I do have them clean before the park closes?”

“Well, you’d avoid your first real punishment, and playing Dota tonight would turn into some of the more fun parts of that orientation I talked about. I have another custom request to film and a video idea of my own,”

“Perfect, Master, I’ll try to get these cleaned to your liking as hard as I can,”

“That’s the spirit, Feethan!”

Ethan laughed and said, “That’s cute, Sir,”

“Get licking; be a foot scrubber now so you don’t have to be a toilet scrubber later,” Braeden demanded. He turned a playlist on and closed his eyes.

Get licking he did. He wasn’t really worried about the time limit – Braeden’s feet were so close to cleaned. It would be a labor of love to get them across the finish line. Ethan began with the right foot. He gathered as much spit as he could and slobbered it from top to bottom.

Compared to some of the feet Ethan had cleaned, Braeden’s feet weren’t even all that dirty. They were so smooth, and he normally kept them clean, so most of the dirt came away with a few licks. The guy would need to be barefoot a lot longer to challenge Ethan’s veteran tongue. He had the dirtiest spots excavated by the time his Master finished breaking down his new sub role. Now, he just needed to lap up what he missed, which meant he got to explore every inch of Braeden’s sole over and over again. He scrubbed some spots with his tongue. Each problem area would meet Ethan’s circling tongue while his lips sucked at the skin. When he figured he had it clean, he would release the sole and make sure he left only flesh remaining with a final lap. Meticulously, he went about spot checking the right foot for about five minutes in this way. Taking a minute or two to ensure the tops sparkled as the soles did, he then wiped the excess moisture onto his cheek, figuring he wouldn’t be allowed to use his shirt. He finished Braeden’s left foot even faster and used the same cheek method to dry it. Ethan gave them both a final once-over. He glanced out the windshield to check where the sun was at, then back to the feet. Reasoning that his tongue was probably dirtier than the soles at this point, he lowered Braeden’s feet to his chest with the sun inches from the horizon.

“I believe they’re clean, Master, would you like to check?”

“Obviously, boy,” Braeden turned the music down and flipped the overhead light on. His left leg supported by the foot on Ethan’s chest, he grabbed his right foot and crossed it over his knee. Flexing his ankle in every direction, Braeden made a show of inspecting for dirt. He spread his toes and peered between them. Finally, he said, “One down, one to go,” When he switched feet, instead of placing his right foot on Ethan’s chest, he opted for his face. Smothered sideways against the window, Ethan had to listen for the cue that would mean the difference between continuing an unimaginable night at his friend and Master’s feet and a night of homework into an early morning of chores.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ethan managed to say through squished lips. He figured a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt his chances.

“Don’t get used to this, but thank you, pig. You managed to snarf that dirt up so well, I don’t need to shower tonight. Which means you don’t have to do my chores until you screw something else up!”

“Oh, good, Master, thank you! I’m so glad I did well,” he said, still moving his mouth from between foot and glass. Mercifully, Braeden released him. He slipped on his sandals and opened his door.

“Okay, loser, when we’re on filming time, I don’t drive. If I’d known this was gonna happen today, I would have made you drive me in your car. You didn’t know either, so you don’t need to pay for my gas this time. But from here on out, filming time equals your gas,”

“Understood, Sir, thank you for allowing me to drive you,”

“Goddamn, dude, I love that you’re this much of a pig. Thanking me for letting you drive me? That’s dope,” He grabbed his crotch and said, “Y’know, if it’s in bounds, you’re being such a good boy that feet might not be the only thing you suck tonight,”

“Thank you, Master, that is well within bounds. I would be lucky to get to pleasure you like that,”

“You sure would be! But I’m getting ahead of myself. Hop in the driver’s seat and let’s get going. We have a great night ahead of us,”

“Yes, Sir, my pleasure!”

Let me know what you thought of what is potentially part one of BraxTheeAlpha! Probably won't start on a part two for my next story, as I want to write about some different scenario with a foot related Dom/sub dynamic. If you have any good premises, send those in as well!

[rafetopia]

anyone of you guys got the iphone 15 or 14? my phone has been going on my nerves for ages now and now and i wanna get a new one but idk which one i should get

[literatureatthebowofnails]

A/N: I love you like Dr. Strange loves being right

Created for the 14 Days of Valentines community project, hosted by @muddyorbsblr

Series masterlist

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Includes: Angst

Summary: Loki seeks council when he fears he's crossed a line

The Bewitched theme tinkles from your pocket as you leave the cafe. Chrysa wiggles her eyebrows, waving goodbye. She's been making hushed comments about how "fucked out" you look since she walked through the door.

You gave up telling her it was just a dream. A very satisfying, very realistic dream, but still a dream.

"Hey Wanda," you answer the call. "What's up?"

"Is Loki with you?"

"No," you frown at the concern in her voice. "I just left work. Why?"

"Steve's angry. Really angry. He said 'damn' under his breath, and he never swears.

"Loki's supposed to leave for a mission in an hour and none of us can find him."

"Have you asked Thor?"

"Thor's at the market. He refused to take his phone because he 'can't afford any more distractions from the new generation of boxed delight.'"

"He's getting an iphone?"

"No," she snickers. "Pop-Tarts released a limited-edition flavor. He's worried everywhere will be sold out because he didn't make it to the store this morning.

"Aaaanyway, do you know where your boy-toy might be? Bruce heard 'HE'S NOT MY FATHER!' coming from Thor's room before breakfast, but no one's seen Loki since.

"He likes to be snarky on coms, but he's never ditched a mission before. Did he say anything last night?"

"Not really. He said he didn't want to get 'too familiar,' but nothing about going somewhere. Luckily, he wasn't so refined it in my dream," you giggle.

"You're so naughty! What did he do?"

"Haha, we gotta meet up if you want the dirty details. I'm not telling the whole train about it."

"Come down to the tower then. Most of the team is leaving. We'll make pineapple upside down cake, and you can tell me everything. And if Loki comes back, you'll get to see him."

"Twist my arm why don't you."

☕

On your ride up, a feminine tone speaks in the elevator. "Welcome back to Avengers' Tower, I'm FRIDAY. Putting Mr. Stark through now."

"Hey, I'm trying to find Rock of Ages," says the unmistakable voice of Tony Stark. "Any idea where he is?"

You look around for a camera or microphone and say "Hi. Um, sorry? I don't know where Loki is. Can't you track his phone or something?"

The doors open, revealing the genius himself as he takes off his Bluetooth to address you directly. "No can do, princess. He's somewhere even FRIDAY can't reach. Next stop is Bleaker St. There's a wizard down there who likes to keep tabs on potential threats. Might be able to give us a lead."

"You don't think he's...?"

"What? Leading another alien army to attack the city? Probably not, but we can't be too careful. Either way, if we don't find him Cap's gonna have an aneurysm and he's too old to survive that." Chuckling at his own joke, Stark gives your shoulder a squeeze and gets on the elevator. "Don't worry, we'll bring your boyfriend back in one piece."

"We've only been on one..." you sigh as the doors close.

"Hey," Wanda comes up behind you. "There you are. I hope Stark wasn't giving you a hard time. He's still jumpy about planetary security. Wants some sort of forcefield, but after the Ultron mess..." she looks guilty. "No one else will agree to it."

You chew your lip, following her to the kitchen. "Should I be worried?"

"Worried?" she looks up. "I don't think so. Steve's just upset because he has to replan the mission. I'm sure Loki isn't in trouble or doing something wrong.

"From what Banner said, it's probably just a family issue."

You nod, but something doesn't feel right. You haven't known the god for long, but you know he wouldn't go to his parents unless he had to.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @peaches1958, @javagirl328, @loopsisloops, @goblingirlsarah, @buttercupcookies-blog, @lovelysizzlingbluebird, @cakesandtom, @ladymischief11, @km-ffluv

Main masterlist

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the list.

Next part

[passionesolja]

So at risk of not sounding like an oldhead, I’ve been a fan of Baldur’s Gate since I was 13-14. Baldur’s Gate is one of those games that I buy on any system I can. I have BG1 and BG2 for iPhone, Computer, switch. Everything I can get it on, I can. Ima be 100 wit y’all, I was in the “DnD game made by Larian” mental frenzy like most mfs was, because end of the day, I think Larian made a great DnD cRPG in THEIR style, but they didn’t make a Baldur’s Gate game.

“Why do you say that?” Because mechanically, gameplay wise, if you’ve never played any other game in the series but BG3, you’re not going to have the proper skills to go back. Game from the 90s or not, I think it’s an issue that Larian made a game so close to Divinity: Original Sin that it makes it difficult for Baldur’s Gate 3 players to go back to play Baldur’s Gate 1 and 2. Because Larian didn’t create the series, BioWare did, they were just given the rights to make the third installments.

I’ve never really tripped over it up until this point because imo, Pathfinder is keeping the Baldur’s Gate/Infinity Engine cRPG torch going. Plus, Larian made a great DnD cRPG but as I’m seeing more and more “Baldur’s Gate 3 is my first cRPG game” types be recommended D:OS 1 and 2, instead of the previous games in a series that introduced them to the genre, I just gotta raise the red flag here.

Fuck the “my fave romance doesn’t have as much focus as Astarion” discourse. This is the real shit that Larian should be dragged for. cRPGs are not sports games or FPS games. The individuality of a cRPG is super important to its existence, whether that be gameplay, setting, story, etc. Game titles and IPs aren’t just flashy names to catch your eye, the names “Pathfinder:”, “Divinity:”, etc. have a lot of baggage and expectations attached to them. When the next Pathfinder or Divinity game comes out, I know what to expect from it because I know the legacy of their respective previous games. cRPGs have their roots in table top games, and if you buy the new DnD 6e rulebook, and it’s Rogue Trader then you’d be like “wait”.

That’s what makes cRPGs so special, is because a new IP in the genre is a new IP in the genre. The most pivotal thing a cRPG has to do is forge its own style. This—imo, in the modern age—is because of all the Infinity Engine games that came out. BG, IWD, PST, are all on the same engine but they’re totally different games.

With the popularity of Baldur’s Gate 3, that ethos is lost on a lot of new players. The game will always be a fantastic DnD cRPG, but it won’t ever be a good Baldur’s Gate game.

[beardedmrbean]

Threads, Meta's new social media app, has signed up 100 million new users less than a week since its launch last Wednesday, making it the fastest-growing app in history.

Like other social media apps, users probably barely scanned − or skipped − the terms and conditions for what information Threads can collect, share and sell about them.

Meta probably already had a lot of information about users because Threads is built upon its Instagram platform.

Start the day smarter. Get all the news you need in your inbox each morning.

So how much does Threads already know about you, and what can it do with that data? Here are a few reasons to be concerned about your privacy.

What information does Threads collect?

Social media platforms monetize user data by selling relevant ads based on your location and activity, but, along with the usual app privacy requests like browsing history and location data, Threads also asks for financial information, health and fitness data, diagnostics and a nefarious-sounding "sensitive info."

Many users have voiced concern over Threads for its 14-point list of data permissions you're granting Meta to use the app. Twitter, by comparison, has 10 of these.

"I would say it's at the outer boundaries of what's usually expected, which is to be expected from its connection to Facebook, a brand long known for being especially hungry to take in user data and commercialize it in different ways," says Dan Ackerman, the new editor-in-chief at Gizmodo, a leading technology, science and culture news publication.

Android users can toggle off some of the data requests from the app, while the Apple App Store is "more take-it-or-leave it," Ackerman said.

"It also doesn't help that there's no browser-based fully functional version of Threads right now, and so you have to use the app version," he said.

Meta declined my request for comment and clarification.

Is Threads data collection worse than Twitter?

It's not necessarily malicious, suggests Tim Bajarin, a veteran technology analyst and Chairman of the San Jose, California-based market research firm Creative Strategies. "Users should know this Threads data list is pulled directly from Instagram, and it's all tied to their advertising engine when they start to monetize Threads.  

"When you sign off on financial info, for example, they're not looking at your bank statements or anything," Bajarin said.

Rather, Threads collects what you're posting about and liking, where you are, and whether you bought something through a third-party site, app or game you logged into using your connected Facebook/Instagram ID (usually to avoid creating a new password altogether).

Bajarin said users are granting Meta access for future advertising.

"Meta isn't giving you a free app out of the goodness of their heart − they're there to make money, which is mostly from advertising."

Threads can collect and save this information, and the data can also be shared with third-party services that connect to your Threads profile.

Can you deactivate Threads?

Yes, but you cannot delete it without also deleting Instagram, Bajarin said.

"Meta built (Threads) on the Instagram infrastructure, on top of the program itself, and so it would be very difficult to uninstall one and not both – at least the way it's engineered today. ... They could eventually be spun out to be completely separate apps," Bajarin said.

To deactivate (but not delete) your Threads account, Adam Mosseri − the Instagram boss who now spearheads the Threads app – says you can choose to hide your Threads profile and content, delete individual Threads posts and set your profile to private, as reported by USA TODAY contributor Jennifer Jolly.

"Threads is powered by Instagram, so right now it's just one account, but we're looking into a way to delete your Threads account separately,” he posted.

Ackerman said the fact Threads is built on Instagram is actually a boon for Meta and users, "as it's especially easy to sign up for, has no wait list, and is simple to use." But "in order to delete your Threads account after you sign up, you’ll need to delete your Instagram account, as well, which reminds me of the difficulty people had deleting their Facebook accounts in the past, and how there was a lot of fine print about what data Facebook would keep unless you jumped through extra hoops."

Is the Threads app safe?

Threads is asking for more permissions than Twitter, so it boils down to your comfort level.

Though some of the privacy permissions seem ludicrous – granting Threads access to health and activity data and other "sensitive info" on a smartphone just seems wrong – no one is forcing users to install and use Threads or any other social media app that monetizes its free platform by delivering personalized, contextual ads to you.

Threads is available in more than 100 countries, but perhaps it's no surprise it isn't available in the Europe Union just yet: Meta was forced to pay more than $400 million by EU regulators for forcing users to accept targeted ads.

Personally, I am using and enjoying Threads quite a bit but wish there was more clarity about how my data is collected and used. And I'm disappointed Meta declined to clarify things.

I select "Ask not to track" on all iPhone apps to reduce an app's visibility into my web browsing activity, and I have a virtual private network (VPN) on my computer for extra privacy, but perhaps it's true there is nothing truly free in this world – it's just up to each person to decide whether the cost is worth it.

[whisperprime]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Interlude | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Hob blinks into awareness, staring at a blank wall.

A blank wall that should have a door in it.

He turns, putting his back to the offending wall. Takes in what appears to be his flat, at first glance. It gives him the surreal feeling that everything that had come before - Dream showing up, their talk, the offer to fix his ankle - had been the dream, rather than what he was currently experiencing.

Upon a second glance, he can pick up on the things that are out of place, like the pleated coat he’d bought back in the 15th century hung on the coat rack or the claymore he was still mourning the loss of mounted over a couch he definitely wouldn’t be buying again this go around.

Littered through out the flat are also things that didn’t exist yet - if they ever came to exist in this new timeline, such as a cellphone that made the iPhone 14 look like a MicroTAC Ultra Lite or the 22nd century style coat hung up next to his pleated one.

For a moment, he feels nostalgic for the time period he had left behind when he agreed to take up the Herald’s mission. He misses the friends he never got the chance to say goodbye to. Misses the advancements in technology. Is glad he doesn’t have to worry about missing the latest medical advancements.

Oh, what a world they were heading into. He looked forward to not only meeting it again, but also to experiencing it in new ways he hadn’t the first time.

There’s the feeling of displaced air, of a shift, that Hob has begun to attribute to something entering the dream with him, that tips off that he has company. Leaving the room to itself, Hob shifts his attention to Dream, who is peering at a future piece of technology that won’t exist for another 110 years.

What is it like to be a creature existing in the now while also retaining knowledge of things that existed in the tomorrow, he wonders. What strange things might this Endless being have seen that now only exists in the memories of those who have walked times that no longer make up their existence? What did time travelers bring to the collective unconsciousness?

Hob puts a pin on those thoughts before they can carry him away. He may have been improving when it came to lucid dreaming, something that was far easier at the moment with Dream being there, but it was still far too easily to get distracted and lose the thread on things. “It’s done?”

Dream pulls himself away from the cell phone, turning to meet him. Here, in his domain, Hob is struck once again by how much more substantial he is. His eyes, usually blue in the Waking world, are their more natural reflection of the cosmos.

“Yes. You might feel sore in the morning, but the bone was set back correctly.”

Oh, to be able to walk without the feeling of bone not sitting correctly. He could not wait.

Near bouncing on his feet, Hob turns back to the blank wall. He places one hand on his hip, while the other goes to his chin as he debates his dilemma. “I might need your help, dove.” He points at the wall with the hand that had been on his hip. “I’ve gotten decent at controlling my dreams, but I never got the hang of changing them.”

Dream steps up beside him, intrigued. “You were not a lucid dreamer in the past. When did you learn?”

“It’s a recent skill.” Well, ‘recent’ if one took into account that Hob has roughly 379 years worth of lived experience that Dream knows very little about. “It took way longer than I thought it would to get even to my current level. I’m jealous of those it comes freely too.”

He gets a thoughtful nod. “Everyone who sleeps experiences it differently. The only thing they have in common is that they dream at some point in their lives.”

Hob has always wondered: “Do you sleep?”

Dream is silent in a way that Hob knows that he’s weighing whether or not to tell him something. He’s a little shocked when he gets, “No. The closest thing for me is unconsciousness.”

Another thought to put a pin in.

Not wanting the conversation to take a darker turn - they are supposed to be having a bit of a dinner date, even if they’re not calling it that - Hob forces himself to face the wall. “I know the place I’d like to go, but I don’t know how to get there. Any suggestions?”

A considering silence, this time. “Emotional attachment can help shape dreams.”

Hob suddenly remembers that he has, just once, changed a dream before, although he hadn’t been trying to do it on purpose. Remembers the brief flash of The Wake during his revisit of the 1889 dream right after the seal broke. 

Dream tilts his head down to make eye contact, and Hob suddenly realizes that Dream is taller than him at the moment. “Does this place have any such attachment for you?”

Hob closes his eyes and imagines the place he’d like to go. Feels the tug of it, like a call home. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

He feels cool fingers wrap around the hand that had still been pressed to his hip. Nearly opens his eyes, until he hears, “Hold the image of the place in your mind.” His hand is guided out until he feels those fingers wrapping his hand around a door knob that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Let the attachment be the thread to guide you to where you want to go.”

Holding tight to the image, Hob turns the knob and pulls on the door. When he opens his eyes, there before him is the New Inn. But it isn’t a version from any specific era, nor is it the one he’s trying to build back in the Waking, although it might be close. 

Here, in this dream, it is more the concept of the place than an imagining of the real thing. The hopes, new and old, he’s poured into it. What it was and what he wants to it be again. His hands itch with the desire to pick up a hammer and attempt, perhaps in vain, to try and make it a reality.

Remembering he isn’t alone, Hob uses his free hand to indicate that Dream should enter first. “After you, dove.”

Dream pauses in the door way much the same way he had when he’d entered the New Inn in the Waking world. He looks back at Hob over his shoulder, briefly, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, before he turns back and passes through the door.

Hob follows behind him, coming to walk beside him as they enter the seating area. In the Waking, the New Inn would be full of tables and booths if it was this far along. Here, in this place that Hob has imagined just for the two of them, is just a single bar stool up against a more richly colored version of the real bar table.

“Feel free to take a seat, if you’d like.” Hob points over his shoulder to the double doors that should lead to the kitchen. “I shouldn’t be too long with the food.” 

Dream eyes the seat for a moment, before he shakes his head. “I should like to come with you.”

Hob feels the phantom sensation of sweat down his neck. This is hardly the first time someone will have watched him cook before, but there’s a certain level of stakes here that he hasn’t felt since that one time he had the Queen over. Higher, even.

He covers it up with his usual bravado, offering a welcoming smile and a ‘follow me’ as he heads for the kitchen.

He hadn’t ever given any heavy thought to what he might make Dream if he ever had him over for dinner. Even if he had, food in the Dreaming was different than anything in the Waking world. In the Waking world, the quality of the ingredients and the skill of the chef determined the taste of the food.

In the Dreaming, food was more memory and emotion. To feed someone in the Dreaming was to share with them an experience and to pour it into being.

Hob had only shared a meal once with the Other Dream, but he hoarded that memory like a dragon hoards it’s most precious gold.

Doing this prods a little at that loss, but it feels like pressing on a bruise that will always be worth the hurt to have gained the experience. 

Without it, he would never be able to do what he was doing now. To share this gift with any of the knowledge that give in the full impact of the thought that went into it.

It is with this in mind, that he lets the doubts fall away and gets to work. The kitchen, as it can only in a dream, has everything he needs. The dish itself is simple, but still something he’d feel comfortable feeding a king. He preps the venison with the curiosity he felt during their first meeting. Preps the vegetables with the trepidation he’d felt going into their second meeting. Spices the venison with the love he’d newly discovered going into their third meeting. The vegetables are sauteed with the light that was the remembrance that he had someone waiting for him going during their fourth meeting. Roasts the venison with the wonder he’d felt at the end of the their fifth meeting and the empathy he’d felt for the loneliness he’d felt himself during their sixth meeting.

Food finally cooked, he fashions a plate to serve it on, made of the faith, despite the fears, that they’d see each other again he’d felt going into what should have been their seventh meeting. The same faith that had carried him beyond it when it was missed, both the original and repeat time around.

Carefully lifting the plate, Hob turns to head back into the sitting area. Has to pause when he gets a look at the expression on his friend's face.

The Lord of Dreams and Nightmares stares back at him, the heat behind that gaze a supernova at the height of it’s explosion. He looks like he wants to crawl into Hob’s psyche and see what makes him tic. To preserve it for him to return to and gaze upon at his leisure.

Hob swallows feeling not unlike a pinned butterfly on display, carefully asks, “Dove? The food is ready.” Needlessly, he holds up the plate.

Dream blinks, with all the effort of a titan willing itself back into something small enough for something a human could perceive. Eyes the dish like a predator would prey.

What would you feed a creature that is beyond that of a god?

“Yes, let us see what you have come up to thank me.”

Hob wills himself not to allow his trepidation stop him now. He once shit talked Death and earned an eternity to enjoy life. He's not stupid enough to do anything like that again - not rudely, anyway - but it is that kind of courage he reacjes for, foolish as it is.

He just hopes that this doesn’t turn out to be foolish, as well.

Dream takes his seat on the stool, somehow looking like a king set at the head of a grand table rather than someone sat at a bar table. Hob lays down the dish in front of him. Once his hands are free, he turns to the shelves behind him and reaches for one of the bottles. Imagines it filled with the joy of drinking with a companion that knows him better than anyone in the world as he pours it into a glass he’s pulled up from beneath the bottles. Lastly, he lays out a pair of utensils.

Once finished, he steps back, hands trailing palm up along the table as he withdraws. “I present your meal, milord. Roasted venison and vegetables, served with a Bordeaux wine. I hope it is made to your liking.”

Dream decides to taste the venison first. The moment the meat hits his tongue, Hob watches as his eyes fall close with a flutter. Raw pleasure lights his face, subtle that it is, like Hob has rarely seen, and he can’t help but feel an answering, pleased flush of his own.

Dream does not do anything as undignified as inhale the food. He takes his time with savoring the food, the wine. Somehow leaves not a single trace of it behind when he is finished. 

This might be the closest to sated Hob has ever seen Dream. 

Hob very happily adds this memory to his treasure trove of moments to look at on a rainy day.

Food consumed, Dream picks up his glass of wine. Swirls it a bit, something heavy on his mind. When he looks up at Hob for the first time since starting the meal, his eyes are deep and terribly, terribly knowing.

This is hardly the first time Hob has bared himself to this impossible creature. It will likely not be the last.

He does not back down, but rather rises up and meets it.

“Why do you not call me by my name?”

Hob blinks at the seeming non-sequitur. Rolls with it and shrugs. “You haven’t given me permission to use it.”

Dream hums at him, recognizes the insolence and decides to find it amusing. “Having my love would not be the safest thing for you, Hob Gadling. To have it would be your ruin.”

Fog, briefly, skirts the floor of the New Inn before vanishing. Hob can almost taste the Chateau Laffite 1828 on his tongue. 

And may each and every one of us give always the Devil his due.

It is far too late to be warned about what loving Dream of the Endless could mean for Hob Gadling. He is too far past the point of no return to worry about something as simple as being ruined.

He will claim, and even mean, that he spent those 106 years in Roderick Burgess’ basement because he wanted the world to keep spinning for the selfish reason of wanting to continue to live in it.

But that does not change the fact that he still took Dream’s place in what turned out to be the closest he has ever gotten to Hell on Earth because Hob was in love with him.

That he would do it again, no matter the cost.

“Some things are worth the danger, dove.” Hob stepped back up to the table, leaning forward until they were eye to eye. “You are worth it and I would say that every day if it would help you to believe it.”

Dream appears to be holding himself back with every ounce of his control. His emotionless façade long cracked down the center, laying bare the controlled urge to claim and possess. “Be sure, Hob Gadling. I may not let you go.”

Hob leans in, not away. They will talk about boundaries after Dream is convinced he is allowed to touch. “You may have me, dove. Now and as long as you will have me.”

Dream’s control finally snaps as he near springs up from his chair. Hob barely has time to register the hand reaching around his head and tangling in his hair, before he is pulled into a kiss that borders on desperate. He sinks into it, melting into that mouth that steals his breathe from him and leaves him thanking it for him. He can still taste hints of the wine and meal as he chases that clever, sharp tongue.

Dream pulls away, as if belatedly remembering that Hob is human and it is human habit to breathe, even in dreams. Licks his lips as if Hob has a taste and he wishes to savor it.

Hob watches the flash of pink like a parched man would water in the desert.

“You may use my name.” The Dream Lord’s fingers loosen their grip on his hair. His touch becoming a caress along Hob’s check as he begins to pull his hand away.

Hob, feeling brave, catches his arm and presses his lips to that wrist were a pulse might have been were this being anything as simple as human. “Thank you, Dream.” Whispers the name against the skin beneath his lips like a prayer.

He feels the shiver as well as sees it this time. Reluctantly releases his grip when Dream pulls away.

“Thank you for the meal, Hob Gadling. Your gratitude has been received.” He stands in one smooth motion, more graceful here in his domain than he ever is in Waking. “I will see you again, soon.”

With a wave of his hand, Dream sends Hob back to the Waking world.

Hob opens his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom. His ankle, true to prediction, is a soft ache that will be gone by the end of the day, if he is careful. 

For the next hour before his alarm goes off, Hob lays there as for the first time since he met the Herald of Destruction on that ordinary day in 2189, he feels the unintended consequences of his choice - and the wish behind it - fully sink in.

There is no possible ruin that could come from bearing Dream’s love that will compare to the pain of outliving him when Hob inevitably loses him.

He had thought he knew what he was getting into when he decided to marry Eleanor and father children with her. It had nearly destroyed him when he vastly underestimated how terrible it was to lose someone you loved with all you had.

Yet he knows, just as he did with Eleanor, Robyn, and his unborn daughter, he will weather this pain because getting his heart broken will have been worth the happiness, however short it lasts.

He had survived her death and the death of their children. Eventually.

He had survived Dream’s death, the first time.

He can only pray he will survive it a second time.

Interlude: 1989

[henrysmith245]

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[lasclbath]

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[daydream-cement]

Hi! i have a question. I passed my exams and am rewarding myself with a new one coz I’ve had my current one for ages… I have the Samsung Galaxy S3 Mini 🫣

Anyway, I was thinking of buying an iPhone 14 pro max. Do you know what colour I should I get, I can’t decide???

is there a purple or gold one?? those seem slayyyyy

[dearclem]

𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑶𝑵𝑬

— a look at clem's mobile device & social media ( ft. kage, montez, candy, aranya, finley, dae-eun ).

THE BASICS:

brand of phone:

apple iphone 14 pro max 1TB²

color:

deep purple.

case:

phone case: plain, matte black. popsocket: a ghostface call me, visual here

locked or unlocked:

locked with both a passcode and face ID. face ID is the preferred method, of course, but her passcode is her mother's birthday in the order of DDMMYR ( so it's 230373 ).

wallpaper:

THIS piece of artwork that she finds very cute ( pastel panting of ghosts sitting on a grassy hill with a crescent moon, clouds, and rainbow in the sky ).

lockscreen:

THIS photo of dao, her cat ( siamese kitten sleeping on its back in her lap with view of adorable toe beans ).

USAGE:

time spent on device:

it depends. on the days of her uploads, she's probably on it more than usual because of engagement. otherwise, she's only on it whenever she's reaching out to someone, when she's playing her games before trying to sleep, or she's looking up something and doesn't have her ipad or computer handy.

five most used apps:

spotify. kindle. webtoon. classic words. animal restaurant.

web tabs:

none are open. whenever she's done using one, she closes it.

last thing googled:

probably when she was looking for a new story, so something like japanese urban legends.

last text message received:

an update regarding a delivery of something she ordered for monty's upcoming birthday.

last voicemail:

probably a spam call and no, her voicemail is never full. she always cleans them out after listening to them, only saving the ones that are really special.

last thing on camera reel & what image was last saved:

last picture taken: THIS selfie. last image saved: THIS photo that she emailed to herself, which was taken for a previous concept to post on her company's instagram for httpfear. ( tw: fake blood ).

extra tidbits:

this is mainly just a section i wanted to add because these were things that came to me as i was doing this, but there was no real place to put them, so you're getting them here. as is true for her regular life, she keeps her phone very tidy and there is a place & reason for everything: all of her apps are organised in folders---e.g., daily, socials, entertainment, games, shopping, etc.---and she only has four folders on each page so the majority of her background is visible; like with her voicemails, she doesn't keep texts directly on her phone unless they're special and she cleans her call history regularly; if you're in her phone, trust she has you saved under a nickname, even if she doesn't ever address you using said nickname; she always closes both web tabs and apps on her phone the second she's finished using them; she is constantly sanatising it; physically CANNOT STAND having the red notification bubbles on anything and when some apps glitch and those things don't always go away immediately when they should is when you get to see angy clem; and she uses one of those privacy screen protectors so you have to be sitting at the right angle to see what she's doing.

SOCIAL MEDIA:

handles:

personal handles: dearclem. handles where she posts all podcast related things: BLKBoxStudios

instagram, latest post:

snapchat, latest sent:

using the mini tripod she has when going on adventures, she took this photo and sent it to monty, rubbing it in that she has goodies and he doesn't 😌

dating apps:

doesn't partake in the thing, no. has no desire and people can be creepy.

spotify:

top three songs of '22: fall in lust ╱ EDEN, jiselle {xx}

❝ we should ride this wave, until the sun comes up baby kiss me harder, make me feel the rush i don't wanna be alone tonight, so why don't we just fall in lust.. ❞

boomerang ╱ the summer set {xx}

❝ let's pop champagne, fake like we're billionaires just you and me, ain't much but we don't care you look so good, i love when people stare you on my arm, tryna keep you there.. ❞

call me back ╱ chase atlantic {xx}

❝ if you get a minute, call me back i'm so lonely and you're the only one that knows me and if you're busy, then i understand it it's bad timing, and i'm probably gonna end up crying.. ❞

last listened to: killer on the drive home ╱ kaiyko {xx}

❝ stop your crying it's not the end of the world but no one listens to a quiet little girl i wanna talk about it, don't wanna shout about it left me alone made me the killer on the drive home.. ❞

tiktok:

she has the app downloaded, but that's only because she gets sent tiktoks and it's just easier to have it downloaded than not. it's never something she finds herself scrolling on.

facebook:

this is another social media app that she wants no part of. she's never had one, nor will she ever because she has no family to keep in contact with and all her friends are nearby.

others:

has youtube, pinterest, reddit, & tumblr.

youtube is where she posts the videos she creates of her two podcasts.

ADVICE PODCAST. HORROR PODCAST. ( tw: horror images, fake blood, creepy eye drawing?, knife ).

pinterest is mostly a private thing ( as in most of her boards are hidden ) because she pins things for aesthetic purposes regarding different ideas she has and may wish to explore in the future. the only boards that are public are her own personal board ( about herself and things she likes ) and a board she's created for the book series she's already published and within that board, each book has it's own section with things like how she pictures the main characters, their connection, the aesthetic of the location & mystery, etc. reddit is something she uses as a way of connecting with some of her listeners and giving them a place to post their own stories and things they may want her to read/cover because whereas she gets some of her inspiration from r/nosleep sometimes, she also likes involving her listeners and that's a wee bit easier to manage in comparison to emails, especially considering she does everything all on her own save for someone she has help her with the editing of her youtube vids. tumblr is where she posts writings, something like a diary of sorts ( think like inkskinned & sue zhao ), though it's completely anonymous and she'd likely throw herself into the void if anyone found out it was her.

[maiosx]

junko enoshima was the ai created to oversee hopes peak along with monokumas after junko lost, but in our world the music idol is the voice that guides the majority of people so the things I post are not meant to be taken seriously.. I am not saying we need to be quick to innovate or maintain order, but we should be tired of ways things were in the past.. would anyone go back to using iPhone 4S’s if you were handed an iPhone mini or a 14 Pro? I wouldn’t. Darwinism takes a toll on laziness and we should be afraid of it’s effects bc there are people and artists out there that bum others or try to maintain them like bees nectar never inspiring them to solve problems on their own but become sorta like renaissance or cults saying yeah we had to go through what you did but do you think the artists really did? no.. they have ad revenue and album sales. true art would be something like hololive bc it’s collaborative and those emotions on stream are real. you see miko spitting at the audience when she’s annoyed.. why would we believe in idols having these perfect sets without our minds changing bc that’s what they are, they’re trying to paint a picture of a common viewpoint to sell us a ticket.. they’re not trying to make us change.. miko says don’t try to change her change yourself. Kurt Cobain committed suicide bc the name of his band was nirvana and that was hypocritical in that his music was the opposite of achieving symphonic excellence. It never did bc he had no way of achieving it. An evolving artist does not use people like instruments but knows what to play in different locations.. bc they know people will understand an idea like blur’s song 2 is about breaking a room, rock is about escaping rooms and going further.. but you know what goes further… orchestras. That is how the world is run.. in a symphony of chaos and order leveling people based on their innovative efforts.. and if you didn’t see Darwinism taking the linkinpark singer or Kurt Cobain, it’s not our fault.. they had no inspiration other than their fans and the fans did not reach out to say stop singing that stupid shit and make a queen album or put yourself in our shoes.. they were always in their own heads thinking the fans were like bees and they were queens themselves, except in the music industry it’s the other way around. We are getting close to rally 5.5 in a month and a half, aespa’s new album comes out on the 8th and it seems pretty natural that we see ourselves as cheer leaders of broken institutions bored of everything.. bc our minds are meant to solve bigger problems than others happiness.

[iphonegetfree]

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iPhone 14 Pro Max Camera System

Main camera: 48MP quad-pixel sensor. Specifications: Aperture size: F1.8; Focal length: 24 mm; Pixel size: 2.44 μm. Second camera: 12 MP Telephoto, OIS, PDAF. Specifications: Optical zoom: 3.0x; Aperture size: F2.8; Focal Length: 77 mm. Third camera: 12 MP ltra-wide, PDAF. Specifications: Aperture size: F2.2; Focal Length: 13 mm; Pixel size: 1.4 μm. Fourth camera: ToF 3D depth sensing Video recording: 3840x2160 4K UHD 60 fps, 1920x1080 Full HD 240 fps, 1280x720 HD 30 fps Front: 12 MP Auto focus, HDR Video capture: 3840x2160 4K UHD 24 fps System chip: Apple 16 Bionic Processor Hexa-core CPU Hexa-core 2x3.46 GHz Avalanche + 4x Blizzard GPU Apple GPU 5-core graphics RAM: 6GB Internal storage: 128GB Device type: Smartphone OS: iOS (16.x)

Capacity: 4323 mAh Type: Built‑in rechargeable lithium‑ion

Charging : Fast charging, Qi wireless charging, USB

MagSafe wireless charging Max charge speed: Wireless: 15.0W

Storage :128GB 6GB RAM, 256GB 6GB RAM, 512GB 6GB RAM, 1TB 6GB RAM

Bluetooth: 5.3 Wi-Fi: 802.11 a, b, g, n, ac, ax Wi-Fi 6; Wi-Fi Direct, Hotspot Sensors: Accelerator, Gyroscope, Compass, Barometer, LiDAR scanner Hearing aid compatible: M3, T4

[claudiasharon]

In other news, I finished my masters degree just waiting final grades rn but my project I got a 99/100 on it and I died and ascended yay! I thought I’d get a B or worse lmao. Well ngl I was hoping at least a B haha.

Anyway idk if it works with masters degrees but I could graduate w honors tbh. I did with my bachelors degree and I had a GPA of 3.95 out of 4.00 and my masters degree GPA is rn 3.98 out of 4.00 so I should still graduate w honors if ppl do that w masters lol.

Anyways I’m excited and March is coming up soon so, how should I celebrate?

[cyarskj52]

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MR. KEKE PALMER'S BOYFRIENDUPDATED JULY 17, 2023

Keke Palmer’s Boyfriend Doesn’t Know His Place

Keke Palmer and Darius Jackson. Photo: Rebecca Sapp/Getty Image

Is this how a second gentleman should be acting? After a video surfaced of Usher serenading Keke Palmer at his Las Vegas show on July 5, her boyfriend Darius Jackson decided to share his opinion on the family matriarch’s dress. “It’s the outfit tho.. You a mom,” he wrote on the Elon Musk app. Mr. Keke Palmer’s Boyfriend was saying her outfit — a black sheer, long-sleeved polka-dot dress with a bodysuit peeking out underneath — was unfit for a mother to wear in public. According to his misogynist logic, moms shouldn’t have fun at concerts in cute little black dresses because that is a threat to the traditional family. “We live in a generation where a man of the family doesn’t want the wife & mother to his kids to showcase booty cheeks to please others & he gets told how much of a hater he is,” he added in his follow-up tweet. Mind you, he and Keke are decidedly not married. The couple have been dating since 2021, and their first child was born in February of this year. “This is my family & my representation,” he kept going, for some reason. “I have standards & morals to what I believe. I rest my case.” He has since deleted his profile and scrubbed photos of him and Palmer from Instagram.

Twitter, however, kept up the fight. The internet dug up Jackson’s old tweets, which include seemingly defending police brutalityand liking a post that calls Tracee Ellis Ross a “female loser” for posting a topless picture of herself at 50 years old. The petit-incel vibes combined with conservative ideas about family and policing isn’t going to get a lot of Palmer fans on his side. The two people at the center of Jackson’s ire appear unbothered through it all. Palmer posted a picture in the allegedly offensive outfit on Instagram with the caption, “I wish I had taken more pictures but we were running late!” Meanwhile, Usher liked a tweetwhere a user understood Keke’s behavior, saying, “It’s Usher like cmon now. I could see if it was Jacquees,” where Jacquees replied, “😂😂 Leave me out of it.”

Despite Jackson’s departure from the internet, Palmer is rightfully not letting his misogynistic words go. She’s now selling merch reminding moms that they can be hot as well as an empowered parent. “One thing is certain and one thing is true, IM A MOTHA, through and through! ‘IM A MOTHA’ and ‘Stevie to the bullshit’ shirts available NOW!” captioned Palmer on Instagram with a video where she sang to her baby. “To all my mom’s out there, how did your baby change you?? Mine empowered me! On such another level, my perspective changed because when my baby is good I’m GREAT! Look at that face! Gratitude galore.” Palmer is even alluding to the baby daddy drama in her live shows. At Broccoli City Fest Sunday, Palmer changed the lyrics of “Bossy” to reflect her mother status. “Lil booties matter, my son gave me some ass/ I’m my own boss and I got my own cash/ I don’t need a *****, only thing I need’s a bag.” A couple days ago, Jackson was just Palmer’s low-key man; now he’s generating enough online discourse to last for weeks. Embarrassing.https://www.instagram.com/p/CuVoiM5r_iF/embed/captioned/?cr=1&v=14&wp=744&rd=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.vulture.com&rp=%2F2023%2F07%2Fkeke-palmer-boyfriend-usher.html#%7B%22ci%22%3A0%2C%22os%22%3A17773%7D

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The e-World of Molly Soda

2023. The further in time we get, the more I realise how chronically online we've all become. Low key Instagram photo dumps are king, we're being sucked into the world of producing short videos for various different platforms and A.I is becoming bigger by the day. I still remember when DALL-E Mini first launched (I say this like it was a long time ago, but it wasn't) and I was typing things in like Wembley lasagne and some other unhinged subjects that could never happen in the real world. This little machine would then make me this cute little pixilated image combining the keywords into something weird. It's been a few months and already there are apps stealing thousands of artists work and combining it for a small fraction of their price to allow you to have about 50 forms of A.I generated selfies. Personally, I don't see the hype with those but it's whatever makes you happy. Who am I to judge? I think that Covid has really pushed the way that we as a society have become so reliant on being online, all the time. I think there are a lot of artists out there who also use being reliant on the Internet to push their forms of work out there.

Take Molly Soda for example, a performance artist based in Brooklyn, New York. Soda works from every form of digital medium that could possibly exist. Much of her work is selfie based. She makes GIFs, zines, videos and then produces them for both online gallery spaces and physical real life gallery spaces. A breakdown to show examples of this is to talk through a variation of works that she has created during the span of her career so far, all being different but fairly similar. You'll see what I mean as I speak.

Exhibit A) Comfort Zone for Annka Kutlys Gallery (14 October - 12 November 2016)

Installation view images of Comfort Zone by Molly Soda. (2016).

The full installation features a multi-media selection including photos and moving images made viewable on the laptop on top of the plinth. The works themselves are to challenge the notion of what art is to the viewer. How would you feel to walk into a space that is full of digitalised images and videos, as if you were to step into someone's iPhone gallery and have to view every piece. It explores how we engage with electronic devices which are always with us, the way our phones buzz with notifications from various social medias as the day goes on. An endless cycle. The video from the laptop on top of the plinth is titled All by myself, this features 18 hours of footage taken directly from Soda's MacBook camera roll and is then published into a video format for the audience to see. A selection of images that were never intended to reach a public audience the way that it did. Perhaps it is there to make you feel a little bit uncomfortable, immersed with all of these images of a person you don't know, images of theirs that are supposed to be private to them. But through their private images, they are stepping into their comfort zone because they have no secrets to hide from anybody.

The floor of the gallery space featured two pink TV screens, something that is nostalgic, as if you've entered someone's room from the early 2000's, featuring All I have is my phone and Phone Zone, both of these being images of Molly Soda on her phone. Instant messaging, social media, being able to speak to anyone in the world at the tip of our fingers is taking over our lives, and this is what the collection of works has been made to portray. It's powerful in a sense of how uncomfortable the works would make specific audiences in the gallery space. I on the other hand feel as though there should be more work in galleries that challenge the notion of art and instead discuss the concept of social media and digital work. Sometimes I feel as though digital works should leave the digital world and be displayed in a real life space.

Screenshot taken from Molly Soda's website.

As Soda puts it, 'a screen recording of what someone does on their computer or on their phone in the day is like a diary entry at this point.' and perhaps I'm starting to see it too. In this day and age, you truly don't know someone until you've seen their Internet history and their saved tabs which sit on the top of their Chrome. Much of the time, Soda bases her work more on classic Internet, the early 2000s. This could be purely down to how desensitised the Internet used to be, the things that I saw on the Internet when I was a child that I shouldn't have seen astound me and it's insane to me to see how much of the Internet now seems to be under lock and key. As Molly Soda puts it, classic Internet is something that was important for her personal development, but also for Internet development as a whole. Looking at her website specifically, I feel as though I am on a MySpace page, something that is oversharing so much that it doesn't look like it's sharing anything at all with anybody. Soda has spoken openly about how the general aesthetic of the Internet has changed over time, a world that was so femme and female orientated is suddenly something that is so dull. 'I think the aesthetics really got smashed. There are no more glitter graphics. (Does anyone remember Blingee??). 'It's really streamlined and white and blue, with no music. It's a little strange.'

Screenshot taken from Molly Soda's website.

It's nostalgia. It's bright pink moving blinged out images. It's when people would insert music players onto their Tumblr's and pirate music in order to play their favourite music loudly on their blog as you click it core. It's something that just doesn't happen anymore. It's make your YouTube channel entirely pink and filled with colourful comments core. But it isn't all about the aesthetics and the cute pink colours filling your screen. It's about being filled with shame as a teenager. It's about deleting your old Tweets because you said something so embarrassing that you don't want anybody to ever see that, a modern day version of making your social media private so your future boss can't find out anything about you. Soda's works are curated to be vulnerable, as in she is displaying herself in that way to the public. Perhaps as a comfort thing, to remind girls that it is okay to be embarrassed by past images or things you've said that is deep on the online archives forever.

All I have is my phone (2016)

Comfort Zone is such an important exhibition in coming to terms with the online world. One of its key reasons is also to do with not only how we are addicted to our phones and being chronically online, but also how we perceive ourselves online in this day and age. How we have these fake identities that we use to make our ordinary lives seem so much more interesting than they actually are. But also how even when we post ourselves in these public spaces and then perceive ourselves in these spaces, that they then follow us into our private spaces. How we wake up first thing in the morning, looking rough and we immediately look at the notifications on our phone, or we look at who's been watching our Instagram stories while we've been sleeping. We can never escape the world of the persona we are on the Internet, and it is brave of Soda to mix both the public and the private to create these artworks. 'The moment I post something and make it public, it becomes less of a big deal. All of a sudden, I'm in control.' Long story short, none of us should be afraid to be a little unhinged on the Internet.

From Soda being chronically online as she has grown up, it only makes sense that she has also managed to pretty much rinse out YouTube and every type of video that has trended on there over the years too. 'People think, 'oh if I just post a bunch of videos about my life, eventually I'll be able to quit my day job and become a lifestyle blogger.' I'm always thinking about how the successful YouTuber is a new version of the American dream-'if I just work enough at curating my life, eventually I'll be paid to just exist.' And while it's been true for people to make this aspect of their life to work, for many others it hasn't worked out the way they wanted. Soda has also been very plain in the way in which YouTubers design their space for when they talk in their videos, and how it is very similar to how the layouts of social media work. Very plain. She notices their interior and how they choose not to show many items in their space purely on the grounds of how they don't want their audience to notice it. 'Everything has to be really clean and look a certain way.' She speaks of how platforms such as YouTube have overtime become too advertisement friendly and how everyone is becoming the same through that. How can you as creator be different to everybody else if you look the same and act the same as everybody else? It's as if the Internet has become a very bland space where everybody wants minimal and everybody wants to talk about the same things at the same time, so when you finally find someone online who has a little bit of a personality, it's whelming.

Finally, another one of Molly Soda's exhibitions, You Got This, a show that took place just before Covid hit in 2020. The show is mixed with Internet culture with the use of American suburbia. Essentially, these two concepts are two very different things, but also interlink within each other perfectly. It is the way in which the Internet and the suburbs are heavily controlled places where status is defined by wealth you can project and what others think of you.

It is interesting because Soda's project heavily relies on video content, and because of Covid, most of the exhibition is now online forever on her YouTube account.

Decorating the desktop is an interesting concept for the way in which we view spaces and also art. It is not something that is typically art, especially when you consider it in the world of digital format. Do we even think about the design of our desktops? The only time I ever thought about my desktop was when I was back in uni and I had to show my lecturer my work and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole when I connected my laptop to the big screen and everyone could see the HD image of Antonio Garza crying and holding a knife that was my desktop image at the time. Soda likes to view the desktop space as a form of interior design because our homely spaces have become like sets because we are always broadcasting them. The way in which Soda decorates her desktop space is very much like how the space of a room a YouTuber sits in looks like. White space, big open spaces, plants and *that* inspirational quote that you can always find somewhere. Not only that, but the music. Name one YouTuber who doesn't use music like this when creating the outro to their videos, which then leads you to hyperlinks of other videos just like the one you've watched.

House Tour is another empty of example of this. The lofi beat that plays as the intro to the video starts, this video feels as though it is a punch in the face to all online influencers who post home tours, what's in my bag videos, you know the ones I mean. The house is literally the suburban mansion, the modern day American dream, but the homes always look exactly the same. It's unnerving at best.

Molly Soda's work has to be one of my favourites at the moment. It is so cool to me seeing someone who has such an Internet presence and makes it work so well with the response to art at the same time. The works are statement pieces, all so different but so alike. I would love to see a collective of these works myself in a gallery space and I really love how she keeps it real, or does she. Looking at this work has made me want to be even more unhinged on the Internet, as if I'm not bad enough for spam posting absolute garbage on my story for my boss to see.

Molly Soda's website for more.

Further reading:

Molly Soda's Comfort Zone gallery synopsis.

Molly Soda on making art from your Internet history.

Molly Soda challenges the the notion of private areas as safe-havens.

What Molly Soda has learned from watching YouTube all day.

Molly Soda wants you to know You Got This.