Creator Capital Markets: How Pump.fun Changed Streaming in 2025

This time last year, the Solana meme coin launchpad Pump.fun had disabled its livestreaming feature after creators flooded the platform with videos of dangerous stunts in attempts to pump their tokens.

Now, Pump.fun views streamers as the future of its platform, with plans to take on other livestreaming competitors head on: “Our plan is to kill Facebook, TikTok, and Twitch. On Solana,” the company posted on X in July.

The move is being billed as “creator capital markets”—the idea that viewers can help fund their favorite creators while having a stake in the future of their content via a crypto token. It’s a stark contrast from the traditional model, which mostly relies on viewers donating money to creators, with little to nothing in return.

Pump.fun turbocharged this vision when it revamped its fee structure in September to feed more of the fees it generates from each trade to token creators’ pockets. This resulted in some streamers earning tens of thousands of dollars over just a couple days as their content went viral.

But the initial momentum soon crashed back down to reality as it became clear that creators and traders made the most money when they leaned into crazy stunts. And Pump.fun found itself back where it started, with a model that incentivizes creators to walk the line of controversy. Now the industry is reflecting on how to change that.

Livestreams return

On April 4, Pump.fun rolled out its updated streaming feature to 5% of its users with revamped user guidelines and a bolstered moderation system. It then slowly expanded the feature to more users, making sure it didn’t get out of control as it did in 2024.

Two months later, crypto influencer Jake “SolJakey” Hillhouse launched Basedd House, a content crew full of up-and-coming influencers living together in a frat-like house with weekly episodes and meme coins attached to each character. It’s from this that now-established creators made their name, like the wacky Iseem and crypto rapper Whish. Pump.fun directly funded the whole venture, Hillhouse previously told Decrypt.

Other creators and viral moments started to bubble up around them in June, too. 

Leland King Fawcette became the second-fastest person to race through all 50 U.S. states, according to Fifty States Club, all while livestreaming on Pump.fun. A Ukrainian man called Ricken said the words “Pump fun” one million times on stream. And one man even livestreamed the birth of his child, and then named her “Solana”—after the crypto network that hosts the meme coin machine.

It was clear that Pump.fun had tapped into something with its audience, and it was then that the company began investing in what it now saw as the future of the platform.

Pump.fun invests

Pump.fun started paying people to post clips of the launchpad’s top creators, the opposite of traditional livestreaming platforms, which require their creators to source, manage, and pay these “clippers.” Pump.fun co-founder Alon Cohen told Decrypt this was a bet on “stimulating social activity” in the hopes of incentivizing more adoption of crypto-native livestreaming.

But it was in September, when Pump.fun revamped its fee model to increase the earnings of creators on the platform tenfold, that streaming started to explode. On one day in September, Pump.fun handed out over $4 million in creator fees, according to Dune data. This meant that streamers, who create their own meme coins attached to each viral (they hope) event, no longer had to sell their own supply of these tokens to make good money.

Pump.fun then doubled down on its livestreaming bet. It began shipping out streamer backpack kits to help creators boost the quality of their streams. The launchpad also hired an unknown number of recruiters, who helped Pump.fun offer contracts to traditional content creators.

Alec Strasmore, a former assistant to musician Post Malone, was one of these recruiters. Stasmore told Decrypt in September that he would approach content creators in the traditional space who had big audiences but were struggling to monetize effectively, and introduce them to Pump.fun and help onboard them.

The exact terms of these streamer contracts remain undisclosed. A source familiar with these deals, however, told Decrypt that the contracts included commitments to streaming time, token supply control, and were usually short-term—weeks and months, rather than years. This helped prompt a stream of well-known influencers outside of crypto to join the platform.

Chad Tepper, a former member of Jake Paul’s influencer crew Team 10, who has millions of followers across social media, was one of those who joined Pump.fun. Others, like retired League of Legends esports player Michael “BunnyFuFuu” Kurylo, also joined the platform.

Usually, these tokens would debut with an immediate surge in price, as the content creators’ audience bought into the token. More often than not, though, it didn’t last—the hype would eventually fade and the tokens would then slowly trend downwards.

These scenarios resulted in streamers making big bags during the first few days of trading (BunnyFuFu made over $130,000 in fees in his first three days), before their fees tapered off as trading volume plummeted. (BunnyFuFu only made $29,000 in the three months following). The short shelf life didn’t just hurt creators—traders and viewers also made less money over time.

And, as a result, many of these traditional streamers and creators have since stopped streaming on Pump.fun.

“A lot of those didn’t work out. Maybe the best course of action is to not go spend a shit ton of money on Web2 streamers,” Hillhouse told Decrypt, referring to streamers outside of the crypto or “Web3” space. “But you do get those few that matter, that now become a proof of concept,” he said, pointing to Misfits boxer B Dave and TikTok influencer Minikon as shining examples. Both creators’ tokens are down over 90% from highs set shortly after launch.

“Moving forward, I don’t think [Pump.fun] should be doing that again,” Hillhouse said, suggesting any future deals need to be “more long-term.” 

Virality matters

But Pump.fun’s biggest success stories this year came from its homegrown talent: Hillhouse’s Basedd House, the random degens looking to break world records on the site, and the Bagwork boys.

In September, two dudes, Chris and Mike, created a token called Bagwork and then livestreamed various stunts to work those bags. The first stunt was relatively mild, running onto the field during a baseball game. They then went mega viral after filming themselves stealing gym influencer Bradley Martyn’s hat and getting slapped for it. The Bagwork token surged 2,000% as a result, netting the duo $49,000 in fees. All it took was just one viral video.

Just days later, the pair leaked unreleased songs from rapper Drake, which brought the Bagwork brand international recognition—and legal trouble, in the form of an apparent cease and desist notice. This stunt earned the Bagwork boys $83,000 in fees over just two days.

But the token fell victim to the same ailment that many meme coins before it suffered: once the attention, hype, and controversy fade, so does the price. Bagwork is currently down 96% from its all-time high market cap of $53.8 million, back during the Drake leaks, and now sits at $1.9 million, according to DEX Screener.

In an interview with Decrypt, Mike from Bagwork called that period “the best few days of my life.” He thought he was about to turn into one of the “biggest and richest” streamers in the world. As the attention waned, though, he realized there is “definitely a little bit of an issue” with Pump.fun streamers “needing crazier content to pump their tokens.”

Hillhouse agreed that something isn’t right with the current model. He suggested more community activations that require tokens, such as voting on what a creator does on stream.

Pump.fun did not respond to Decrypt’s request for comment on how the company plans to address this tension.

It may be make or break for creator capital markets in the coming year. Will Pump.fun find a way to fix its reliance on sensationalist viral moments? Or will creator capital markets fade into obscurity, like the many meme coin trends before it?