#tracking remote workers

[teamtrackmaster]

Boost Productivity & Transparency: Top Remote Employee Time Tracking Tools

As remote work becomes increasingly common, especially in light of recent global events, businesses need efficient methods to track employee productivity and ensure accurate payroll processing. Remote time tracking involves various tools and techniques designed to monitor employee work hours, track tasks and projects, and maintain transparency and accountability in remote work arrangements.

One of the primary methods of remote employee time tracking is through the use of time tracking software and applications. These tools allow employees to log their work hours, record time spent on specific tasks or projects, and track breaks and non-productive activities. 

Managers can access these records in real-time to monitor employee productivity, identify bottlenecks, and provide feedback or support as needed. Additionally, time tracking software often integrates with project management tools, enabling seamless coordination and collaboration among remote teams.

Another common approach to tracking remote workers tool is through the use of biometric or digital time clocks. These devices, which may include fingerprint scanners or facial recognition technology, allow employees to clock in and out remotely, providing an accurate record of their work hours. This method helps prevent time theft and ensures that employees are paid fairly for the time they work.

Tips Or Tricks For Optimizing Remote Time Tracking Efficiency

Set Clear Goals And Priorities: Start your day by outlining specific goals and priorities. Break down larger projects into smaller, actionable tasks. Prioritize tasks based on deadlines, importance, and impact. Tools like time tracking for remote workers or project management software can help you organize and prioritize your workload effectively.

Use Time Tracking Tools: Explore various remote workers time tracking options available to find one that best suits your needs. Look for features such as automatic time tracking, customizable project tracking, and integration with other productivity tools. Experiment with different tools to find the one that fits seamlessly into your workflow. Establish A Routine: Create a daily routine that aligns with your natural energy levels and peak productivity times. Designate specific work hours and stick to them consistently. Incorporate regular breaks to avoid burnout and maintain focus throughout the day.

Minimize Distractions: Identify common distractions in your work environment and take steps to minimize them. This may involve setting boundaries with family members or roommates, using website blockers to limit access to distracting sites, or designating a dedicated workspace free from distractions.

Time Blocking: Allocate dedicated time blocks for different tasks or projects throughout your day. Use tools like calendars or planners to schedule time for focused work, meetings, breaks, and personal activities. Be realistic about the time needed for each task and adjust your schedule as needed.

Top 3 Remote Worker Time Tracker

Toggl

Toggl is a popular time tracking for remote employees known for its simplicity and user-friendly interface. It offers features like one-click timers, customizable project tracking, and detailed reporting. Toggl also integrates with various project management and productivity tools, making it easy to track time across different tasks and projects. It's suitable for freelancers, remote workers, and teams of all sizes.

EmpMonitor

The EmpMonitor is a comprehensive employee monitoring and time tracking software designed for remote teams. In addition to tracking time spent on tasks and projects, EmpMonitor offers advanced features such as keystroke logging, website and application tracking, screenshot capture, and activity monitoring. 

It provides detailed insights into employee productivity, allowing managers to identify inefficiencies, optimize workflows, and ensure compliance with company policies. EmpMonitor is suitable for businesses that require advanced monitoring and time tracking capabilities for remote teams.

Clockify

Clockify is a free remote workforce management software with robust features for remote workers and teams. It offers unlimited users and projects, allowing you to track time spent on tasks, projects, and clients. Clockify offers browser extensions, desktop apps, and mobile apps for seamless time tracking across devices. It also provides detailed reports and insights to analyze productivity and billable hours. Also Watch: Leading Employee Engagement and Workforce Productivity Tool

Epilogue!

In conclusion, remote employee time tracking stands as a pivotal aspect of modern work dynamics, especially in the context of the increasingly prevalent remote work environment. As organizations transition to distributed workforces, the need for efficient and accurate methods of monitoring employee productivity and managing work hours becomes ever more crucial. 

Through the utilization of advanced time tracking tools and techniques, businesses can effectively navigate the challenges of remote work and ensure optimal performance and accountability among their remote employees.

[workhubsoftware]

Time Flies: Managing Remote Employee Time Tracking Challenges

Time and productivity tracking for remote workers has become a critical task for businesses. With the rise of telecommuting, companies face new challenges in ensuring that their remote workforce remains productive and accountable. In this article, we'll explore the challenges of remote employee time tracking and how to effectively manage them.

Challenges of Tracking Remote Workers

One of the main challenges of tracking remote workers' time is the lack of visibility. Unlike in a traditional office setting, where managers can physically see employees working, remote work makes it difficult to monitor employees' activities. Concerns over accountability and productivity may arise from this lack of visibility.

Another challenge is the potential for distractions. Working from home can blur the lines between work and personal life, making it easy for employees to become distracted by household chores, family members, or personal activities. These distractions can impact productivity and make it harder to track time accurately.

Effective Time Tracking for Remote Employees

To effectively track the time of remote employees, businesses can use various tools and strategies. One popular method is to use time tracking software specifically designed for remote work. These tools allow employees to log their hours worked and track their productivity, providing managers with real-time visibility into their team's activities.

Another strategy is to establish clear expectations and guidelines for remote employees. It includes setting specific work hours, outlining tasks and deadlines, and communicating regularly with team members. By setting clear expectations, employees are more likely to stay focused and productive.

Remote Worker Time Tracker Software

Remote worker time tracker software can help businesses overcome the challenges of tracking remote employees' time. These tools offer features such as automatic time tracking, task management, and productivity monitoring. Managers can use these tools to track how much time employees spend on different tasks, identify potential bottlenecks, and make informed decisions to improve efficiency.

Remote Workforce Management Software

In addition to time-tracking software, businesses can use remote workforce management software to streamline their remote work processes. These tools offer features such as inside threat prevention, employee scheduling, performance monitoring, and collaboration tools. By using these tools, businesses can ensure that their remote workforce remains productive and accountable.

Maintaining Communication and Trust

One of the key aspects of effective time tracking for remote employees is maintaining open communication and building trust. Managers should regularly check in with remote employees to discuss their progress, address any concerns, and provide feedback. It helps build a sense of accountability and ensures that employees feel supported in their work.

Another significant factor is trust. Trusting remote employees to manage their time effectively is crucial for maintaining a positive work environment. By demonstrating trust in their employees, managers can foster a sense of responsibility and encourage employees to take ownership of their work.

Implementing Flexible Work Policies

To further support remote employees, businesses can implement flexible work policies. These policies allow employees to work at times that are most convenient for them, which can help improve work-life balance and reduce stress. Flexible work policies can also help employees manage their time more effectively, leading to increased productivity.

Utilizing Performance Metrics

In addition to time tracking, businesses can use performance metrics to evaluate the effectiveness of their remote workforce. Metrics such as project completion rates, customer satisfaction scores, and employee feedback can provide valuable insights into the performance of remote employees. By analyzing these metrics, businesses can identify areas for improvement and make data-driven decisions to enhance productivity.

Encouraging Work-Life Balance

Promoting work-life balance is essential for remote employees to avoid burnout and maintain productivity. Encourage employees to establish boundaries between work and personal life by setting specific work hours and taking regular breaks. Providing resources for mental health support can also help employees manage stress and stay motivated.

Training and Development Opportunities

Investing in training and development opportunities for remote employees can improve their skills and productivity with keystroke logging. Offer online courses, workshops, and seminars that are relevant to their roles and career goals. By investing in their professional development, employees are more likely to stay engaged and committed to their work.

Regular Performance Reviews

Conducting regular performance reviews is crucial for tracking remote employees' progress and providing constructive feedback. Use these reviews to discuss goals, address any performance issues, and recognize achievements. It helps employees stay motivated and ensures that they are meeting expectations.

Conclusion

Managing remote employee time tracking challenges requires a combination of effective tools and strategies. By using time-tracking software, setting clear expectations, and utilizing remote workforce management software, businesses can overcome the challenges of tracking remote employees' time and ensure that their remote workforce remains productive and accountable.

[employeesproductivityhub]

Time Flies: Managing Remote Employee Time Tracking Challenges

Time and productivity tracking for remote workers has become a critical task for businesses. With the rise of telecommuting, companies face new challenges in ensuring that their remote workforce remains productive and accountable. In this article, we'll explore the challenges of remote employee time tracking and how to effectively manage them.

Challenges of Tracking Remote Workers

One of the main challenges of tracking remote workers' time is the lack of visibility. Unlike in a traditional office setting, where managers can physically see employees working, remote work makes it difficult to monitor employees' activities. Concerns over accountability and productivity may arise from this lack of visibility.

Another challenge is the potential for distractions. Working from home can blur the lines between work and personal life, making it easy for employees to become distracted by household chores, family members, or personal activities. These distractions can impact productivity and make it harder to track time accurately.

Effective Time Tracking for Remote Employees

To effectively track the time of remote employees, businesses can use various tools and strategies. One popular method is to use time tracking software specifically designed for remote work. These tools allow employees to log their hours worked and track their productivity, providing managers with real-time visibility into their team's activities.

Another strategy is to establish clear expectations and guidelines for remote employees. It includes setting specific work hours, outlining tasks and deadlines, and communicating regularly with team members. By setting clear expectations, employees are more likely to stay focused and productive.

Remote Worker Time Tracker Software

Remote worker time tracker software can help businesses overcome the challenges of tracking remote employees' time. These tools offer features such as automatic time tracking, task management, and productivity monitoring. Managers can use these tools to track how much time employees spend on different tasks, identify potential bottlenecks, and make informed decisions to improve efficiency.

Remote Workforce Management Software

In addition to time-tracking software, businesses can use remote workforce management software to streamline their remote work processes. These tools offer features such as inside threat prevention, employee scheduling, performance monitoring, and collaboration tools. By using these tools, businesses can ensure that their remote workforce remains productive and accountable.

Maintaining Communication and Trust

One of the key aspects of effective time tracking for remote employees is maintaining open communication and building trust. Managers should regularly check in with remote employees to discuss their progress, address any concerns, and provide feedback. It helps build a sense of accountability and ensures that employees feel supported in their work.

Another significant factor is trust. Trusting remote employees to manage their time effectively is crucial for maintaining a positive work environment. By demonstrating trust in their employees, managers can foster a sense of responsibility and encourage employees to take ownership of their work.

Implementing Flexible Work Policies

To further support remote employees, businesses can implement flexible work policies. These policies allow employees to work at times that are most convenient for them, which can help improve work-life balance and reduce stress. Flexible work policies can also help employees manage their time more effectively, leading to increased productivity.

Utilizing Performance Metrics

In addition to time tracking, businesses can use performance metrics to evaluate the effectiveness of their remote workforce. Metrics such as project completion rates, customer satisfaction scores, and employee feedback can provide valuable insights into the performance of remote employees. By analyzing these metrics, businesses can identify areas for improvement and make data-driven decisions to enhance productivity.

Encouraging Work-Life Balance

Promoting work-life balance is essential for remote employees to avoid burnout and maintain productivity. Encourage employees to establish boundaries between work and personal life by setting specific work hours and taking regular breaks. Providing resources for mental health support can also help employees manage stress and stay motivated.

Training and Development Opportunities

Investing in training and development opportunities for remote employees can improve their skills and productivity with keystroke logging. Offer online courses, workshops, and seminars that are relevant to their roles and career goals. By investing in their professional development, employees are more likely to stay engaged and committed to their work.

Regular Performance Reviews

Conducting regular performance reviews is crucial for tracking remote employees' progress and providing constructive feedback. Use these reviews to discuss goals, address any performance issues, and recognize achievements. It helps employees stay motivated and ensures that they are meeting expectations.

Conclusion

Managing remote employee time tracking challenges requires a combination of effective tools and strategies. By using time-tracking software, setting clear expectations, and utilizing remote workforce management software, businesses can overcome the challenges of tracking remote employees' time and ensure that their remote workforce remains productive and accountable.

[thepresence360]

[constructionsafetynetwork]

Safety in Maritime Construction Projects

Safety in maritime construction projects is a critical concern that encompasses unique environmental, logistical, and operational challenges. This article aims to shed light on the specific safety measures required in maritime construction, highlighting why it’s crucial to address these distinct aspects for the successful completion of projects. Unique Risks in Maritime Construction In maritime…

[clockwayswrites]

*writes 800+ words of Another Red but not the part I'm supposed to*

Jason breathed in the heavy clove scented smoke, taking comfort in it. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t gotten him to stop, he didn’t think he ever would. Somethings were just too much part of a person. The smoke swirled up into the night air, caught in the constant breeze a harbor city like Gotham had.

“You don’t have to do this kid, put yourself in danger like this.”

“No, I do,” Rabbit bit out. Jason was pretty sure if he could see the kid’s teeth, they would be bared in a feral smile. “What I can’t do is let people get hurt when I can go and help them.”

“Yeah, and what about your safety? You could die.”

Rabbit laughed like that was some sort of big joke and Jason felt himself bristling at the reaction. Jason knew how dangerous this was— more than anyone else in his family. He’d felt that fear and pain and—

“Yeah, well, Hood, sorta too late for that.”

Jason’s anger left him so suddenly that he felt cold in it’s absence. No—

“Do you know, it’s not the death itself that’s bad,” Rabbit drawled, almost lazily. He finally lit his gifted cigarette. He didn’t take his mask off, like Jason had hoped he would, but ducked his head down and pushed the mask up just enough to take a slow drag. He looked so small like that, hunched over on himself with the bright ember dangling from his fingertips. “The body stopping everything… it’s sorta of quiet. All those functions we don’t think about going on all the time— breath’n and blink’n and beat’n… it’s quite without all that going on. Nah, it’s not the actually dy’n that’s so bad, it’s the fear that comes with it.”

“Yeah.” The admission almost hurt Jason to choke out.

“Yeah,” Rabbit agreed. He took another drag from the cigarette. His free hand was curled over his head, likely to keep his face hidden from Jason, but it just made Rabbit look all the more like a scared kit. “And that fucking fear? That worst part? I live with that all the fucking time, Hood, so nah, I’m not so ‘fraid of dy’n‘gain.”

“At least let me help you avoid it,” Jason said. He didn’t mean to plead but fuck if he wasn’t.

Rabbit snorted and took one more drag before he snuffed out his cig and stood. “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

All traces of the drawling accent was gone and that hint of Gotham was back in Rabbit’s voice.

Jason wondered which was more real.

He reached into his belt instead of pressing the matter— instead of pressing the accent or take on death or talking Rabbit out of this life. Jason knew in every shattered bone of his that it wouldn’t do any good. This life already had the kid by the neck and there was nothing to do about it. It would choke Rabbit out one way or another, just like the rest of them.

The red fob was innocuous against his glove, could hardly even see it in the dim, yellow light of th Narrows. Red on red on red—

“Take it.”

Rabbit didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked instead, leaning forward just a little.

“A panic button.”

Rabbit snorted and flicked the remains of the cigarette at Jason. “I’m not taking a fucking tracker.”

“It’s not a tracker until you activate it. You press and hold the button on each side for two seconds and only if you do that is it a tracker. I can’t activate it remotely on my end or anything,” Jason said. “It’s the same one I give some street kids and sex workers. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just a tracker.”

Rabbit watched Jason with an eerie stillness. “Swear it.”

“I swear, it’s just a panic button. It’s only a track if you turn it on.”

Rabbit still didn’t move. Jason sighed and started to pull his hand back before Rabbit darted forward and grabbed the panic button. The little fucker was quick.

“I won’t press it just for anything,” Rabbit said with a defiant jut of his chin.

“Wouldn’t expect you too,” Jason said with an honest, easy shrug.

Rabbit watched a moment longer before he pulled out a keyring without any keys and put the button in. It hung between a battered food shelter tag and a library barcode that Jason was sure was counterfeit.

“Yeah, whatever. Now go on and get, Hood. Don’t you have a whole city to look after?”

“Fucker,” Jason said fondly and stamped his own cigarette out before he tucked the butt away in a pouch slot. The small part of him that was still very much a Bat wanted to do the same with Rabbit’s so he could try and pull some DNA. Instead he flicked Rabbit off and leapt off the roof to the kid’s laughter.

[brostateexam]

Big tech companies are still trying to rally workers back into physical offices, and many workers are still not having it. Based on a recent report, computer-maker Dell has stumbled even more than most.

Dell announced a new return-to-office initiative earlier this year. In the new plan, workers had to classify themselves as remote or hybrid.

Those who classified themselves as hybrid are subject to a tracking system that ensures they are in a physical office 39 days a quarter, which works out to close to three days per work week.

Alternatively, by classifying themselves as remote, workers agree they can no longer be promoted or hired into new roles within the company.

Business Insider claims it has seen internal Dell tracking data that reveals nearly 50 percent of the workforce opted to accept the consequences of staying remote, undermining Dell's plan to restore its in-office culture.

[apas-95]

In most city builders the unofficial (sometimes, explicit) goal is to grow your city - get a large amount of money, a large population and large tax income, unlock cool buildings, etc - and, while you can play it that way, the real unofficial goal of Workers & Resources is self-sufficiency.

While in the early game you're necessarily reliant on foreign trade to purchase raw materials, even hire foreign skilled labourers, and depend on exports to make up your currency deficit, the excitement of the game comes about once you fully control all steps of a given production process. You go from importing electricity - to mining, transporting, and refining coal for your own domestic power plants. And that applies to every single resource chain in the game, from bread, to concrete, to railway carriages.

What really sells me on the whole thing is this - in 'realistic' mode, the ability to construct buildings purely from money is removed. You can still import materials and labour, but you need to actually get them there. The process for starting out your city goes like this:

Set up mud tracks (the only free road type) from a border customs office. Build the free versions (which is to say, designated dirt lots) of a construction office, a fuel depot, and a road logistics office. From the border, buy vehicles with cash - cement mixers, dump trucks, asphalt pavers and steamrollers, a bus to bring foreign workers to your construction site, and don't forget a fuel tanker to supply your fuel depot. At this point you have a muddy construction site with some cars parked on it. Start construction on worker housing, the electrical substation for the housing, a water pump and water treatment plant (or, just a water tower to import water into), a small store to feed them - and hopefully it's not cold enough that you need a central heating block. Congrats, now get your construction offices carrying out each individual stage of construction in turn, requiring different resources and vehicles at each part, until, over dozens and dozens of workdays, you've finally built a single worker accomodation. Take in some workers, who are probably a bit annoyed that there aren't any bars or sports complexes around, and you've finally, after months of construction works, got your first residents. Now they need an actual workplace - and, luckily, you've now got a local workforce to construct it. Give it time, and this remote patch of dirt will be constructing nuclear power stations.

I feel like, in the way games like Banished (or, more topically, Manor Lords, I think? I've never played it) turn city-building into a survival game, by just semi-accurately portraying the precarity of a peasant economy, Workers & Resources definitely makes you feel like a stressed planner fighting against production itself, rather than your own citizens, like in Cities Skylines or the like.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair. 

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life. 

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?” 

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?” 

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room. 

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away. 

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth. 

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side. 

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class. 

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed. 

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora. 

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her. 

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.” 

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride. 

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it. 

Now was not the time to slack. 

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior. 

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed. 

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought. 

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date. 

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture. 

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart. 

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.  

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.” 

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over. 

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop. 

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin. 

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?” 

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.” 

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.  

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air. 

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again. 

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running. 

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.” 

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette. 

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.” 

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.  

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over. 

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin. 

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology. 

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?” 

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.” 

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.   

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?” 

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.” 

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve. 

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim. 

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens. 

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger. 

It was raw shame. 

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight. 

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Pulling into the lonely gas station, my eyes quickly find what I'm looking for, a pair of blue lights emanating in the darkness. The glow is coming from the gas attendant's skull: clear indication that he's a Moonlight™ employee.

"Good evening, sir," he says with the overly-endearing tone of a gracious host, "How may I be of service tonight?

I don't hide my distaste for the pathetic menial worker, leaning on his mop and waiting for my reply like he's got the best job in the world. He doesn't actually believe that. He doesn't even know what he's saying, let alone doing!

"Just fill her up," I grunt.

"You got it, sir!" he beams, tending to my car with a pep that's out of place for the late hour.

Moonlight™ was the app that revolutionized working culture forever. It allows the user to sign up for a job while they sleep. All they have to do is doze off and some insufferable AI from Moonlight™ will resume control of the body via remote connection. People like it because they get paid work without experiencing all the boring hours and insincere customer interactions. Subsequently, they always get the same unbearably eager personalities stuffed in their bodies. Even without the glowing eyes, their idiotic grins would make them stand out a mile away!

"How has your day been, sir?" he contines mopping as the gas slowly pumps.

"Don't try to chat," I snap.

"Of course, sir," he doesn't miss a beat, smiling as he returns his neon gaze to the sidewalk he's swabbing.

I just roll my eyes and wander inside. The app doesn't record memories while it's in control, so this guy has no idea how humiliated he should feel. No one should have a shit-eating grin on their face working the night shift as a gas station janitor! I'd die before I gave up my dignity to Moonlight™ like this fucking loser!

On the TV behind the register, an ad plays...

The costumed man on the left steps forward and announces, "Join the revolution. There are over forty-two-million Moonlighter's taking advantage of their sleep! That could be you!"

The statistic makes me cringe. It's nearly doubled since the last time I checked...

The man on the far right of the screen happily taps in, adding, "We're constantly expanding our scope, so check with your employer! If your job doesn't already have a Moonlight™ option, then ask your boss to give you one!"

God, they're pressuring people now? Some jobs should not be done by an AI puppeteered Moonlighter...

Finally, the man in the center steps forward to deliver his lines, "Remember, Moonlighting is a safe and healthy way to not only make money but also get a good night's rest! Why work all day, when you can do it in your sleep!" his head turns, making it seem like he's smiling at either of his coworkers, "After all, we are!"

The three men laugh in unison, like true colleagues chumming up at work, but I know the truth. These three are worse than actors, they're empty marionettes for the Moonlight™ corporation. I doubt they'd ever even met each other in real life...

"Shut up!" I groan, smashing the power button to turn it off.

This world is going to shit. Moonlight™ has grown too large over the past year for there not to be some conspiracy or ulterior motive. I don't know what it is: the elite keeping the working class in their place, our government influencing our decisions, a foreign country converting us into their slaves! It all sounds crazy, but I don't think a single theory is impossible with an app like Moonlight™.

I'm the only one probing into this mess. I may have only worked as a detective for a few years, but I never did any of it fucking asleep!

A few days later, I track down my first lead...

"Good morning, sir," the garbage man says in that unnaturally smooth cadence they all have, "Is there any trash you need collected?"

"I just have some questions," I snort.

One hand pulls the hem of my shirt over my nose while the other swats at the flies. These garbage trucks are absolutely filthy. I doubt the garbage companies even bother washing them out anymore, but why should they if their workers are soulless husks without the ability to care? The man in front of me seems completely oblivious to the mixture of rotting smells and accompanying bugs. His glowing eyes don't even blink as a fly lands on his face, crawling through the hairs of his beard. He's probably lucky that he goes home with no memory of this downright awful job.

"Are you looking for employment with Moonlight™ incorporated?" his smiling lips stir the bug on his face, but it quickly buzzes into the moist retreat of the man's dark armpit, "I'd love to help you install the app and-"

"No," I cut, "Just open the truck. I accidentally threw out something I shouldn't have."

I study the man's frozen grin for anything. It's a test. The Moonlight™ AI is designed to accept demands from free-willed customers, but I have a suspicion that the building nearby is an undocumented base for the company. If I'm right, the company would hate for anyone to root through the garbage of their secret lab...

"...I apologize, sir, but the garbage has already been compacted, and it is unsafe for non-employees to look inside. Please let me know what it is you are looking for and I will search for you."

His artificial glee didn't wane, but the blue light in his eyes did flicker just barely. This guy might be asleep, walked around by remote AI tech, but I could still tell he was lying. I'd like to see one of the Moonlight™ detectives figure that out. As I said, some things are better done the old-fashioned way...

"Well, thanks anyway," I snark, planting a slap on his sweat-soaked back. He says something about it being his pleasure as he resumes handling the garbage, flies eternally buzzing around his smiling head and glowing eyes.

Continuing my investigation, I pop down in the sewer, looking for an underground entrance to Moonlight™'s secret lab...

"Are you lost, sir? Let me help you."

I've had to breathe through a mask to put up with the heavy cloud of steaming sewage, but the Moonlight™ septic worker seems fine, smiling with an open mouth, specks of God-knows-what dried on his teeth.

"No, I'm where I should be," I dismiss him and march past.

Suddenly a muddy glove sticks out and holds my chest. "I'm afraid you cannot pass, sir," his smile is as strong as ever, but the trademark glow of his eyes intensifies.

I've never felt more sure about my suspicions. This mind controlled worker seems ready to fight rather than let me pass. I wonder if this poor soul knows he's being used as a guard as well as being a Moonlight™ sewage worker.

"Why don't you show me the way out then," I relent.

"Of course, sir," his hand removes itself from my chest, leaving a dirty print, "The sewer is a dangerous place for civilians."

I follow as he marches me out of the sewer. It's better to leave and come back later with a plan. Today, I confirmed my suspicions, but tomorrow, I'll finally see what secrets they're cooking up in that lab. I return home and end the day with the satisfaction of being close to a major discovery. Sleep finds me quickly...

Waking up in my bed, I check my phone and find an unsettling message waiting for me...

"Congratulations on finishing your first shift with Moonlight™!" the text reads, "Here is a photo of you hard at work last night!"

"What the FUCK!"

I jump out of bed, but instantly everything feels off. My back aches and my legs are more tired than they were last night! My pajamas are uncomfortable, pinching in areas like someone else dressed me in them! My mind is racing with confusion, and an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness rushes over me. My face burns from the violation, but most of my fear is focused on the strange feeling lingering in the back of my private area.

"What did they do to me?" I try to be pissed, but all I can do is whimper.

Suddenly my phone rings...

"Hello," I growl.

"Good morning, sir," a familiarly gracious man's voice rolls through the call.

"Tell me who the fuck this is!"

"Someone who noticed you snooping the other day, sir," his voice sounds like it's smiling.

Suddenly it clicks. Whoever's calling me from Moonlight™ would never use their own phone and voice. They must be using some poor schmuck that thinks he's working an honest job right now. How am I ever supposed to find who's behind all these layers of lies?

"You can hind behind your brainless puppets," I sneer, "But I will not stop looking into this fucked up company!"

"But now you're one of our puppets, sir. I'm not sure how much credibility a detective has if he spends his nights working the room at the dirtiest club in town..."

"That's sick..." I whisper, thinking about the picture on my phone. The idea of me gleefully stripping for a room of disgusting old men makes me shiver.

"Good luck with your investigation, sir," the voice continues, "But just understand that every time you sleep, your body will get up and report to that club. I have to admit that you're hiding a rather tight body under that trench coat of yours."

"You were there?" I mutter.

"Oh I had to meet the man poking his nose where it didn't belong, sir. I got very familiar with you. You were very friendly last night, so I poked something of mine where it didn't belong."

The voice on the other line laughs, and all I feel is utter humiliation. I hang up the call and stare at the photo he'd sent. It was me alright, smiling like a maniac in the gayest outfit I've ever seen. I didn't like my body being dressed like that. I hate that I was happily busting my ass for the enemy. He had to have been getting off at my humiliation last night. I'm sure he relished every second of what he did to me. I don't even want to think about the sensation left in my ass.

I need to push this investigation faster.

Because tonight, when I go to sleep, I'll be helpless to prevent this from happening again.

[drtanner]

I'm angry today so you're getting a Rant™.

There's not a single day that's gone by in the last four years where I haven't been viscerally, incandescently furious that so much of the awful bullshit we're suffering through today and will continue to suffer through for the foreseeable future could have been prevented. We could have had cheaply and widely available vaccines for COVID that were distributed rapidly to everyone all over the world, but we didn't get those because a handful of rich cunts didn't want to waive their patents for those vaccines. We could have had a proper lockdown that kept everyone safe for long enough that those vaccines could become effective and the virus could die out, but we didn't get that because it would have made the line of rich people feelings go down too much for a little bit. We could have knocked this on the head in less than six months, we had the opportunity to do that, but that opportunity was stolen from us because the rich couldn't stomach losing even a tiny shred of their profits.

During the one meaningful lockdown we did have, the smog cleared up from a few places but global emissions didn't change at all, because global emissions are almost entirely generated by industry and industry didn't stop during that lockdown. We discovered that remote work was incredibly beneficial to thousands of people and that productivity even improved in many cases while people were working remotely, but now our governments are badgering people to get back to the office because they don't want their corporate rent portfolios to lose value or for Pret a Manger to go under, except in the case of disabled people who are too sick to work, for whom remote work suddenly does exist and means they're lazy and workshy if they don't "do their part". Speaking of which, there are now thousands more disabled people than there used to be, because this virus that we're now pretending doesn't matter anymore is turning out to have devastating long term health consequences like brain fog caused by leaky blood vessels and permanently reduced physical condition similar to that caused by Myalgic Encephalomyelitis. We've had waves of strikes in the last couple of years, which tracks with workers' rights movements in the wake of other, previous pandemics like the Spanish Flu and the Black Death, which were able to take off because so many workers had died or become too disabled to work that those who remained were able to bargain more persuasively for better pay and conditions, but that's the extent of actual change that's happened in the wake of this ongoing global disaster.

We could have knocked all of this on the head back at the start, but this shitty Pandora's Box is now irreversibly opened and we are never going to be able to close it again. We're continuing to be ravaged daily by a disease that is still killing and permanently disabling people but our governments really want us to pretend it's all gone now, while the world around us is actively on fucking fire.

I would like it if people rioted about this.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Why is this Canadian university scared of you seeing its Privacy Impact Assessment?

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Barbra Streisand is famous for many things: her exciting performances on the big screen, the small screen, and the stage; her Grammy-winning career as a musician (she's a certified EGOT!); and for all the times she's had to correct people who've added an extra vowel to the spelling of her first name (I can relate!).

But a thousand years from now, her legacy is likely to be linguistic, rather than artistic. The "Streisand Effect" – coined by Mike Masnick – describes what happens when someone tries to suppress a piece of information, only to have that act of attempted suppression backfire by inciting vastly more interest in the subject:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Streisand_effect

The term dates to 2003, when Streisand sued the website Pictopia and its proprietors for $50m for reproducing an image from the publicly available California Coastal Records Project (which produces a timeseries of photos of the California coastline in order to track coastal erosion). The image ("Image 3850") incidentally captured the roofs of Streisand's rather amazing coastal compound, which upset Streisand.

But here's the thing: before Streisand's lawsuit, Image 3850 had only been viewed six times. After she filed the case, another 420,000 people downloaded that image. Not only did Streisand lose her suit (disastrously so – she was ordered to pay the defendants' lawyers $177,000 in fees), but she catastrophically failed in her goal of keeping this boring, obscure photo from being seen:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Streisand_effect

Streisand has since called the suit "a mistake." On the one hand, that is very obviously true, but on the other hand, it's still admirable, given how many other failed litigants went to their graves insisting that their foolish and expensive legal gambit was, in fact, very smart and we are all very stupid for failing to understand that.

Which brings me to Ian Linkletter and the Canadian Privacy Library. Linkletter is the librarian and founder of the nonprofit Canadian Privacy Library, a newish online library that collects and organizes privacy-related documents from Canadian public institutions. Linkletter kicked off the project with the goal of collecting the Privacy Impact Assessments from every public university in Canada, starting in his home province of BC.

These PIAs are a legal requirement whenever a public university procures a piece of software, and they're no joke. Ed-tech vendors are pretty goddamned cavalier when it comes to student privacy, as Linkletter knows well. Back in 2020, Linkletter was an ed-tech specialist for the University of British Columbia, where he was called upon to assess Proctorio, a "remote invigilation" tool that monitored remote students while they sat exams.

This is a nightmare category of software, a mix of high-tech phrenology (vendors claim that they can tell when students are cheating by using "AI" to analyze their faces); arrogant techno-sadism (vendors requires students – including those sharing one-room apartments with "essential worker" parents on night shifts who sleep during the day – to pan their cameras around to prove that they are alone); digital racism (products are so bad at recognizing Black faces that some students have had to sit exams with multiple task-lights shining directly onto their faces); and bullshit (vendors routinely lie about their tools' capabilities and efficacy).

Worst: remote invigilation is grounded in the pedagogically bankrupt idea that learning is best (or even plausibly) assessed through high-stakes testing. The kind of person who wants to use these tools generally has no idea how learning works and thinks of students as presumptively guilty cheats. They monitor test-taking students in realtime, and have been known to jiggle test-takers' cursors impatiently when students think too long about their answers. Remote invigilation also captures the eye-movements of test-takers, flagging people who look away from the screen while thinking for potential cheating. No wonder that many students who sit exams under these conditions find themselves so anxious that they vomit or experience diarrhea, carefully staring directly into the camera as they shit themselves or vomit down their shirts, lest they be penalized for looking away or visiting the toilet.

Linkletter quickly realized that Proctorio is a worst-in-class example of a dreadful category. The public-facing materials the company provided about its products were flatly contradicted by the materials they provided to educators, where all the really nasty stuff was buried. The company – whose business exploded during the covid lockdowns – is helmed by CEO Mike Olsen, a nasty piece of work who once doxed a child who criticized him in an online forum:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/01/bossware/#moral-exemplar

Proctorio's products are shrouded in secrecy. In 2020, for reasons never explained, all the (terrible, outraged) reviews of its browser plugin disappeared from the Chrome store:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/04/hypervigilance/#radical-transparency

Linkletter tweeted his alarming findings, publishing links to the unlisted, but publicly available Youtube videos where Proctorio explained how its products really worked. Proctorio then sued Linkletter, for copyright infringement.

Proctorio's argument is that by linking to materials that they published on Youtube with permissions that let anyone with the link see them, Linkletter infringed upon their copyright. When Linkletter discovered that these videos already had publicly available links, indexed by Google, in the documentation produced by other Proctorio customers for students and teachers, Proctorio doubled down and argued that by collecting these publicly available links to publicly available videos, Linkletter had still somehow infringed on their copyright.

Luckily for Linkletter, BC has an anti-SLAPP law that is supposed to protect whistleblowers facing legal retaliation for publishing protected speech related to matters of public interest (like whether BC's flagship university has bought a defective and harmful product that its students will be forced to use). Unluckily for Linkletter, the law is brand new, lacks jurisprudence, and the courts have decided that he can't use a SLAPP defense and his case must go to trial:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/20/links-arent-performances/#free-ian-linkletter

Linkletter could have let that experience frighten him away from the kind of principled advocacy that riles up deep-pocketed, thin-skinned bullies. Instead, he doubled down, founding the Canadian Privacy Library, with the goal of using Freedom of Information requests to catalog all of Canada's post-secondary institutions' privacy assessments. Given how many bodies he found buried in Proctorio's back yard, this feels like the kind of thing that should be made more visible to Canadians.

There are 25 public universities in BC, and Linkletter FOI'ed them all. Eleven provided their PIAs. Eight sent him an estimate of what it would cost them (and thus what they would charge) to assemble these docs for him. Six requested extensions.

One of them threatened to sue.

Langara College is a 19,000-student spinout of Vancouver Community College whose motto is Eruditio Libertas Est ("Knowledge is Freedom"). Linkletter got their 2019 PIA for Microsoft's Office 365 when he FOI'ed the Nicola Valley Institute of Technology (universities often recycle one another's privacy impact assessments, which is fine).

That's where the trouble started. In June, Langara sent Linkletter a letter demanding that he remove their Office 365 PIA; the letter CC'ed two partners in a law firm, and accused Linkletter of copyright infringement. But that's not how copyright – or public records – work. As Linkletter writes, the PIA is "a public record lawfully obtained through an FOI request" – it is neither exempted from disclosure, nor is it confidential:

https://www.privacylibrary.ca/legal-threat/

Langara claims that in making their mandatory Privacy Impact Assessment for Office 365 available, Linkletter has exposed them to "heightened risks of data breaches and privacy incidents," they provided no evidence to support this assertion.

I think they're full of shit, but you don't have to take my word for it. After initially removing the PIA, Linkletter restored it, and you can read it for yourself:

https://www.privacylibrary.ca/langara-college-privacy-impact-assessments/

I read it. It is pretty goddamned anodyne – about as exciting as looking at the roof of Barbra Streisand's mansion.

Sometimes, where there's smoke, there's only Streisand – a person who has foolishly decided to use the law to bully a weaker stranger out of disclosing some innocuous and publicly available fact about themselves. But sometimes, where there's smoke, there's fire. A lot of people who read my work are much more familiar with ed-tech, privacy, and pedagogy than I am. If that's you, maybe you want to peruse the Langara PIA to see if they are hiding something because they're exposing their students to privacy risks and don't want that fact to get out.

There are plenty of potential privacy risks in Office 365! The cloud version of Microsoft Office contains a "bossware" mode that allows bosses to monitor their workers' keystrokes for spelling, content, and accuracy, and produce neat charts of which employees are least "productive." The joke's on the boss, though: Office 365 also has a tool that lets you compare your department's usage of Office 365 to your competitors, which is another way of saying that Microsoft is gathering your trade secrets and handing it out to your direct competitors:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

So, yeah, there are lots of "features" in Office 365 that could give rise to privacy threats when it is used at a university. One hopes that Langara correctly assessed these risks and accounted for them in its PIA, which would mean that they are bullying Linkletter out of reflex, rather than to cover up wrongdoing. But there's only one way to find out: go through the doc that Linkletter has restored to public view.

Linkletter has excellent pro bono representation from Norton Rose Fulbright, a large and powerful law-firm that is handling his Proctorio case. Linkletter writes, "they have put this public college on notice that any proceeding is liable to be dismissed pursuant to the Protection of Public Participation Act, BC’s anti-SLAPP legislation."

Langara has now found themselves at the bottom of a hole, and if they're smart, they'll stop digging.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/01/eruditio-libertas-est/#streisand-v-linkletter

Image: Copyright (C) 2002 Kenneth & Gabrielle Adelman, California Coastal Records Project, www.californiacoastline.org (modified) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Streisand_Estate.jpgbr>

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

--

Langara College (modified) https://langara.ca/

Fair use (parody) https://scholarship.law.ufl.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1104

Fair dealing (parody) https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1468015

[archermind]

seen your post abt suggestions for a spencer reid fic, this has been marinating in my brain so pls bare with me. <3

spencer reid x aarons daughter! reader

maybe he forgets his lunch, and his daughter brings it in? or something along the lines of needing a tutor? ill take ANYTHING. bonus points if its fluffy and smutty

feel free to change anything!!!

-🃏

Arousal Theory

Spencer Reid x Aarons daughter!reader

Description: You are Aaron Hotchner’s only daughter. It is safe to say he is a little over protective of you. You have never been able to bring a guy friend home without your dad profiling them and scaring them away. The one guy he never thought to profile was his own co-worker, Spencer Reid. 

Word count: 2,500 approx.

Content Warning: fluff and light smut, light choking, hair pulling, fingering, small age gap.

y/n/n = your nickname

Author note: omgomg! I'm so glad someone sent this request in! Don't worry anonymous, I too have had this scenario brewing in my head. I loved your suggestion, thank you for submitting it! I hope i have done your idea justice <3

You hated your dads job. Mainly because he was too good at it. Every boy you were ever remotely friends with, you weren't anymore. All because of Aaron Hotchner. Each time you invited a guy to your house, your dad kicked into his professional shoes and took it upon himself to profile the poor boy. No guy was ever good enough for you or some of their characteristics unnerved Hotch.

This was the reason why at 22 years old, you still had never had any romantic relationship. The most romance you received lately was with a $20 lovehoney sex toy you bought in a valentines sale. Now that is romance. Your days were spent scrolling through tumblr, ao3 and erotic ebooks - yet every time after finishing the romance novel that piqued your current interest, you felt like sleeping on the highway. You couldn't help but think… ‘If this is my life at 22, I'm going to be the lonely old cat lady by the age of 25’.

It was a casual Saturday, you stood within the kitchen as your cat purred lapping in and out of your legs as you prepared her food. You weren’t really a sociable person. You mainly spent your days studying, preparing late dinners for your dad and caring for your cat - cookie. It was the main reason you didn't stay in dorms for college, you couldn't stand others. Other people your age were out drinking or hooking up. You just simply didn’t have the energy to go out to a party every week. 

Your feet padded along the tiled floor as you made your way to the fridge. Opening the door, you let out a gasp. Your dad had forgotten his lunch. The BAU day can get pretty long and you know your dad often gets so caught up in a case he forgets to eat. You grabbed the tub, a basic lunch packed inside of it. You lightly stifled a laugh, seeing your fathers poor excuse of a ‘nutritious’ lunch. Opening the tub you pulled out an apple, some crackers and cheese, along with a small sandwich. Enough to fill a five year old… not a hardworking, criminal catching 43 year old man. 

Luckily, you had cooked too much cheesy spinach pasta for lunch. You packed Hotch a generous amount. Before putting it into a lunch bag, grabbing your keys and heading out of the door. After two tries of twisting the ignition key for your car, it suddenly kicked into motion. With winter approaching, your old beat up car was struggling. The drive wasn’t too long fortunately. Getting a space in the small Quantico parking lot was your greatest problem.

You made your way through the reception area of the building, confidently walking towards the elevator. However, you were abruptly stopped in your tracks after seeing the ‘out of order’ sign. You sighed making your way over to the stairwell. You saw someone entering through the stairwell door and realized the doors to the stairs were key card accessed.

“HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!” you yelled, running towards the boy who held the door. 

“Sorry, but you have to have an access card to be allowed through” the boy spoke, gesturing to his key card. 

You squint your eyes to read his name before responding with a coy smile. 

“Well actually… spencer.” you smiled at him, “i have to just quickly drop off my dads lunch, so could you be a sweetheart and just let me through?”

He shifted anxiously as you battered your eyelashes at him, trying your hardest to persuade the older boy. 

“I guess so..” he responded, looking your impatient demeanor up and down “what floor are you heading to?” 

“Floor four” you stated quickly as you rushed toward the steps, spencer hot on your trail

“That's good because I actually am too!” Spencer gleefully responded as you hummed in surprise. 

You were slightly short of breath by the time you reached the fourth floor. Spencer however was still just as energetic as before. All throughout the walk up the stairs, he rambled about which tourist attraction has the most steps in the U.S after you made a single complaint about the elevator being out of order. 

“Here we are,” spencer opened the door “who is your da-”

“Y/N/N?” Hotch exclaimed, coming up to you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Hey dad, I came here to bring you lunch… you forgot yours” you pointed out with a laugh

“Oh? I didn't realize” he gratefully took the tub from your grasp, “i see you have met Dr. Spencer Reid” 

You and Spencer both looked toward each other. You gave him a polite smile and then nodded sweetly to your dad. 

“I was just talking to Spencer this morning about how you could use his extensive knowledge to support you in your studies” he spoke confidently, yet.. You found yourself on the verge of protesting. As you opened your mouth, Hotch began again…

“He already said yes.”

Great.

You anxiously bit your nails and paced just behind the front door, awaiting the moment Spencer would knock. From the moment you both met, you thought he was handsome. The way his brown soft looking curls were all laid messy. The way his honey brown eyes stared focused on every point of your face, as you spoke. It made you want to know him more. Everything about Dr Spencer Reid intrigued you. 

A knock broke your train of thought- or more like your fantasy imagination about your dads Co-worker. It sent a shock through you. You shook your arms attempting to get rid of your nerves. It is just a 26 year old man coming to help you study. Nothing else… nothing more. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror to check if you looked good - to study of course

You death gripped the handle of the front door and pulled it open to see Spencer stood there. He wore a hat, gloves and scarf to help protect him from the cold brittle air. It made you feel terrible for leaving him that extra few minutes in the cold. You smiled at him, motioning him to come into your home. 

“Hotch told me you were studying psychology” he questioned, walking into the dining room. 

“Uh… yea i am” you followed him through to the dining room, “would you like a hot chocolate?” you questioned him.

“I actually don't like hot chocolate” Spencer stated, giving a soft smile to lessen the harsh deny of your polite gesture.

“Neither do i…” you bit your bottom lip as you looked at him blushing. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Spencer smiled. 

As you added the sugars into the coffees, you heard cookie meowing from the dining room. You grasped the coffees, making your way back to spencer. To your surprise Cookie had jumped onto Spencer's knee and began kneading his leg, purring. You placed the coffees down and laughed at her kitten-like attitude for Spencer, a random stranger. Until you saw how uncomfortable Reid was. You quickly shoo’d her off of him. 

Time passed, the studying was long and quite boring . Spencer helped you create numerous flash cards to help you study and you both went through them. While studying, small talk was going on - you enjoyed getting to know Spencer. He was such an interesting person that you wished to know him more and more, deeper and deeper. 

“I have an idea, for each question on these cards i guess right you get to ask me a question?” spencer suggested

You smirked in response, it was a good trade. He got to tutor me and I got to question him.

“Okay” you grinned

The questions were basic. ‘What is your favorite part of your job?’, ‘Who is your favorite co-worker?’, ‘what is your favorite book?’. You were actually making an effort in answering these silly little cards. However, you were never asking the questions you really wanted to ask… more about his personal life. 

“What is the arousal theory?” Reid asked

“to be the physiological state of being aware, alert, awake or attentive” you spoke confidently

“Correct!” he shouted

“Okay…” you spoke slowly and playfully

you thought long and hard about what you wanted to know about Spencer, your mind immediately going to the one and only thing you were desperate to know. Although it was wildly inappropriate to ask your dad’s co-worker, you just couldn't help yourself.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you spoke mumbled and shy. 

“No.” he answered sharply, “do you- uh… have a boyfriend?” he blushed.

It was new year's eve and you were currently dressed in a silver satin dress. You felt confident but nervous as you stood beside your dad, hugging a tub of home baked cookies on the doorstep of Rossi’s house. He had invited hotch and you over to his annual new year party. You knew Spencer was going to be there hence why you dressed at your best.

Little to your fathers knowledge, you and Spence had grown closer and closer. Although you both were nothing serious. You could feel the tension between you both with every brush of your hands, sip of coffee and longing stare. You couldn't be more grateful for your weekly study sessions, you were gaining more marks on each essay and exam - all thanks to spencer. 

Walking into the party, you were engulfed in hugs from Hotch’s co-workers. Everyone was so kind. You listened to the group of friends laugh and joke. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice Spencer was missing from the large tight-knit group. You glanced around the room, in search of the man you were obsessed with. You couldn’t help but worry that he wasn't here at all. 

“I'm going to go grab a drink” you informed hotch before rushing off into the crowd. You were in search of a beverage and a smartass man who took up every inch of your thoughts. You pushed past small crowds making your way to the drinks table. Your eyes scanned the room, still no sign of Reid.

“You look beautiful Y/N” a voice whispered in your ear.

You jumped slightly at the hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. You smiled instantly knowing exactly who it was behind you. You quickly spun around and threw your arms around his neck, giving him the tightest hug. He smelled good and you found yourself sinking further into his arms for longer. 

“Should we get away from the crowds” you asked him, looking up at him, remembering a discussion you had about his hate for big crowds during a study session. 

He nodded and swiftly guided you through Rossi’s home and up the stairs to a bathroom. You giggled as he closed and locked the door. You loved sneaking around to have some privacy for whatever it was going on between you both. It made you feel special and giddy for the tall boy who you had grown so close to. Spencer now towered over you as he stepped closer, placing his hands on your waist and lifting you onto the giant bathroom counter. 

The room was silent but the tension was thick. You licked your lips as they went dry from anticipation for anything to happen. You stared up at him as Spencer tucked a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear. You have never wanted a man more and it was a lot for you to admit. You felt vulnerable under his touch and gaze. You and Spencer searched in eachothers eyes, looking for any indication in each other's stare if you both felt the same way. 

You found yourself leaning into the temptation and to him. Spencer was quick to close the gap. You both kissed passionately and slowly, enjoying the moment that had been a long time coming. You smiled as he pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long Y/N” he blushed at his confession

“I wish you didn’t wait so long Spence”

You kissed him again and felt his hand go to your neck, applying light pressure. You moaned at the contact. Slowly Spencer began to pepper kisses along your jawline. You hummed at his actions. You felt yourself grow with more need for him. Both of your breathing became heavy as your lust and want for each other grew stronger. You felt Spencer's hand trail up your thigh as his tongue played with yours in a heated make out. You pulled away and looked down as his hand grazed your clothed pussy. You were soaked for him and ready for his touch but so hesitant. You didn’t want this to be a one time thing, no matter how much you wanted this. 

“Is this okay Y/N?” Spencer questioned you concerned for the worried look you held in your expression.

“Yes Spencer p-please” you whined needy, pushing the negative thoughts away. 

Quickly Spencer pushed your panties aside, you gasped at the sudden touch of his cold fingers against your heat. He began stroking small circles on your clit causing your head to fall back from the pleasure. He bit back a smirk at the reaction you had for his touch. You whined as you felt a finger brush near your entrance.

“You have to be quiet baby” he spoke gently, shushing you before plunging his fingers into you.

You moaned in response and then Spencer clasped his spare hand over your mouth to try and muffle the reaction coming from you, not wanting your father and his boss to know what you both were getting up to in his co-workers bathroom. He kept the pumping of his fingers at a steady rhythm as his thumb massaged circles on your clit. Spencer's hot mouth went to your neck biting and sucking at the skin. It seemed your entire body was sensitive for him. Every touch, kiss, and word from him caused an elicit reaction. 

You began to ride his hand and fingers faster as you grew closer to your finish. While he sped up the thrusts of his fingers, you could hear the countdown to new year about to start. Spencer knew you were about to cum and instantly knew what he wanted from you.

“You only cum when i want you to” spencer growled his order into your ear 

 your legs and body began to shake from the overwhelming knot of pleasure in your stomach. Your body writhed and wriggled against the counter as his thumb applied pressure to your sensitive overstimulated clit. You were a mess, dripping with arousal. 

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3…

“Hold it Y/N!” Spencer grunted

2..

“Look at you such a good girl Y/N” he praised, stroking your hair out of your face but grabbing a fistful and pulling your head back to look at him….

1…

“Cum for me!” Spencer begged as he watched you come undone from his touch.

You whined from your climax. Trying your hardest to gain the full ability of your mind as it was going wild from your overstimulation. Spencer kissed your forehead as your chest heaved up and down. You smiled letting out a light laugh.

“Happy new year Spence” you smiled into his kiss

“What a way to come into the new year Y/N”

[fatkish]

Sanemi x Puppygirl Reader Pt. 2

It had been a year of you living with Sanemi and he had started to track your heats. He kept track of when they would happen and made sure to be prepared for them. He also made sure to let his kid siblings know that you couldn’t play with them during said heats. Sanemi had gotten some advice from Gyomei and a few of his other co-workers at school on how to help a hybrid and properly care for them.

He had gotten you multiple toys and heat aids to use during your heats as you waited for him. Some of these were things he told you to get because he wanted to use them such as a remote control vibrator and vibrating panties. During one of your heats he decided to have you use them. “Hey pup, I want you to put this in and wear these all day.” He said as he held up a vibrator and the vibrating panties.

He smirked as he watched you put both things on. Once the vibrator was in he turned it on from his phone and set it at a steady speed. He also turned on the panties. They constantly vibrated and stimulated your poor clit. You had to take a deep breath and Sanemi smirked as he watched you struggle. “You’re not allowed to remove them at all unless it’s to go to the bathroom, understand? I want you ready and weeping when I get home tonight, got it?”

You nodded as you could barely talk. Sanemi came over and pat your head. “Good girl” he then left the house, leaving you behind. Throughout the day, Sanemi would play with the vibration speeds. Turning it up and down every so often, which often had you whimpering and panting. You laid in your little nest of blankets and tried to sleep although it was difficult to when you were constantly being stimulated.

When Sanemi got home that night, he greeted his siblings before coming to see you. He smirked when he saw you wagging your tail with a tired look on your face. He walked over to you and saw how wet you were. “Well would you look at that, you’re sopping wet. Good girl, now get over here and suck my dick, after you do that, I’ve got a surprise for you” he said as he sat down on his bed and patted his lap. You crawled over to him and began to unbuckle and remove his pants and boxers.

Once his cock was free and sitting there waiting for you, you licked a strip from his balls to his tip before taking the whole thing in your mouth. You sucked on him as he leaned his head back and sighed. He grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, making the tip hit the back of your throat. You gagged but continued to suck like the good girl Sanemi has trained you to be. He then turned both the vibrator and the panties up to their max speed setting, causing you to moan around him as you ground your hips trying to get some more stimulation.

When Sanemi got close he pulled you off of him and had you remove the panties and vibrator after he turned them both off. Sanemi then got up and walked over to his closet and opened the ‘toy’ box and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold. He then smirked as he walked over to you and picked you up before dropping you on the bed. He then cuffed one of your hands and secured the cuffs through the headboard. He then tied the blindfold around your eyes and smacked your bare ass.

“Are you ready for your surprise? I bought this and I wanted to try it out on you. Since you’re literally a bitch in heat, I figured you might enjoy getting knotted. I know it ain’t the real thing, but since I don’t have a knot, this’ll have to do”

Sanemi spoke as you heard him pull something out of his closet and felt something pushing against your cunt. You keened as it pushed in and you could tell it was a thick dildo. Sanemi chuckled as he pushed it in deep before pulling it out and shoving it back in. This went on for a bit, Sanemi fucking you with the dildo and circling his thumb on your clit. He aimed for your g-spot and repeatedly pummeled it as your back arched. When you came you felt the base of the dildo start to swell until it was stuck in you.

You then felt two fingers start to circle your anus before feeling a cold liquid and then them pushing in. Sanemi began to fuck his lubed fingers inside your ass as your cunt clenched down on the toy. You whimpered when Sanemi pulled his fingers out only to feel the hot and blunt tip of his dick against your hole. He then pushed in and you whimpered at the stretch as he fully sheathed himself inside your tight asshole.

“Goddamn pup, you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so good, such a good girl” Sanemi groaned as he started to slowly thrust his hips, dragging himself in and out slowly. You moaned as he gripped your hips and began to set a steady rhythm. As his pace increased in speed and strength, he smacked your ass and started to play with your clit. You never felt so full, you were overly sensitive from all the orgasms you had throughout the day and you felt another on the way.

Sanemi growled as your insides twitched and squeezed him, causing him to pinch your clit hard. You cried as you felt another orgasm overtake you. Sanemi continued to fuck you through it until he came with a final thrust, filling your ass with his seed. “You’re such a good girl, maybe one of these days I ought to breed you properly. You want that? You want me to fill your greedy cunt with my seed and fill you with my pups? Huh?” He gave your ass one last smack before deflating the toy and pulling it out. He then unlocked the cuffs and removed your blindfold before helping you clean yourself up.

Sanemi got ready for bed as you snuggled into the bed. Once he climbed in you snuggles up to his side and he wrapped an arm around you.

[thepresence360]

[ceranovis]

So... the thing that IMMEDIATELY stood out to me in Fit's Dec 30th lore stream was the use of the nocom heatmap:

Like this is the exact version if the heatmap Fit uses in his 2b2t vid about the nocom exploit (which is a wild story in itself, please watch it if you haven't before).

But some musing about how nocom might be connected to the lore (which quickly spiralled into some theories about Madagio, the 2 Cucuruchos, and the eggs):

Nocom was an exploit that tracked players in real time, predict their movements, and allowed remote spying on physical changes to locations. Madagio being drawn in by the remenant signal of that could just be a nod to their interest in finding ways to collect information and why they would find Fit suitable for the job.

HOWEVER-- Nocom was built on a Papermc vulnerability that meant it could also work on other multiplayer servers that run it. While nocom was patched on 2b2t, that doesn't mean other servers have patched the vulnerability & the source code has been released by the creators. So Madagio could have been interested in going to 2b2t to get ahold of nocom to use on Quesadilla island so it could uncover the "secrets [it] must have at all costs"-- their POV when tracking down fit shows entity lines so they clearly have some tracking ability/tool.

Maybe they got the nocom code, but found they couldn't use it yet. It's been mentioned before that Fit tried hack clients on QSMP but they didn't work, and exploits get fixed pretty quickly to keep the server stable. Madagio said the only way onto thr island at the time was the Federation train-- presumably the Federation had thing heavily locked down and Madagio wouldn't be able to enter or run any sort of exploit.

2b2t's nocom was made possible because of social engineering-- Madagio could have hired Fit to collect information so it could find a way to successfully manipulate holes into the Federation's security and get onto the island/run nocom.

In the Dec 21st QSMP Info stream, Dark Cucurucho seems to be looking for something the Federation has hidden, and demands Cucurucho tell him where it is. Maybe Madagio is looking for the same thing? Nocom would theoretically allow someone to find hidden facilities/people anywhere on the server.

Where Dark Cucurucho seems tied to the Nether, and Cucurucho the overworld, its becomes pretty notable that Madagio has Fit go through a giant Ender portal.

Madagio being tied to the End also has some interesting implications if you think about the (ender?) dragon that supposedly inhabited the island & created the eggs. While the federation claimed the dragon left when the wall was blown up, there's no actual evidence it was there at the time. Perhaps Madagio is the dragon.

Fans seem to be interpretting the "i am a god" anagram of Madagio literally, which could fit with the ender dragon being a sort of godly being presiding over the End dimension.

BUT it may not be a literal dragon-- the eggs seem to be some sort of science experiements, so what if the anagram is a reference to a scientist playing god?

Maybe Madagio literally created the eggs from End-realm-DNA or something before fleeing/being kicked off Quesadilla, and the dragon story is just what the Federation made up to explain the eggs without having to bring up Madagio.

Maybe the experiements that led to the eggs were about opening up inter-server travel? Madagio said whatever made it leave Quesadilla also gave it server-hopping powers (powers which seems similar in reach to the Federation's ability to pull people to the island/send workers to other places).

The Federation can block interdimensional travel too-- we saw that with the Nether, which the residents eventually broke through with the train bug, implying hacks/bugs are needed to bypass Federation security.

Dark Cucurucho told Forever it wanted to leave, desired freedom, and that the Federation didn't want it to have that. Maybe the thing Dark is looking for is the thing that Madagio created that allows for interdimensional travel, which the Federation stole.

I think the only non-Federation example of cross-server travel we've seen is with the Watcher/Purgatory, but it may have actually been Dark Cucurucho who enabled that, not the Watcher. Aside from Dark being the one to give the residents their tickets to Purgatory via the dice game, Cucurucho claimed the recent security vulnerabilities were due to Dark, so maybe Dark found an exploit that allowed for limited interdimenisonal travel-- if it's tied to the creation of eggs somehow, maybe that's why there were 3 new eggs found on Egg Island?

The Unknown Egg diary Cellbit found could potentially be connected to Dark Cucurucho leaving & making contact with the Watcher prior to the purgatory arc, given the timing (about a month after the residents broke open the Nether, which may have created a door for Dark to get to the overworld despite Federation security and set things in motion). Maybe Cucurucho sent Cellbit to investigate because it suspected Dark was up to something? Cellbit assumed the egg's fate was the Federation's doing, but why would they send him to investigate it then? Maybe it was Dark making a cheap immitation of the Federation adoption center so it could travel, and then abandoning the egg once it had what it wanted?

Cucurucho also said that Dark didn't understand the potential of the eggs, which could explain why Dark would only be able to achieve limited travel.