#Cooperative housing

[dispatchesfromtheclasswar]

O LOOK - HOUSING THAT ISN'T A FOR-PROFIT EXPLOITIVE INVESTEMENT SCHEME!

[racefortheironthrone]

With housing becoming increasingly unaffordable to many Americans, do you think we might start to see bigger companies and labor unions start buying and/or building housing for their workers?

Companies, not so much, because especially post-tech layoffs, the dominant paradigm is to view labor costs as something to be avoided and passed on to consumers or the government etc. as much as possible. So even though workforce housing is a sound investment, most employers won't put in the money.

Labor unions have done this historically, but it's a heavy lift when it comes to organizational capacity, especially when the costs are distributed across ever-smaller numbers of members. It's also the case that U.S banking, housing, and labor law makes it unnecessarily difficult to build cooperative housing of this sort.

Changing the law and financial policies to something more similar to continental Europe or Scandinavia would dramatically alter how much cooperative housing is built in the U.S.

[the-city-in-mind]

Germany’s non-capitalist solution to the housing crisis: Housing Cooperatives!

[bumblebeeappletree]

We interviewed Rhea Miller and Breton Carter of the Lopez Community Land Trust on how they combined a land trust and cooperative housing model to make affordable, environmentally sustainable housing for working people.

[elizabethgoudge]

How Co-Operative Housing Works

Brilliant ideas about how cooperative housing should work. Give us more of this! Please?

[sorrelpaws]

They make such a nice couple. The king and queen are pretty nice too. Heheheh.

[ekingston]

also on ao3.

Lena smiles to herself as she watches Kara zip through National City’s most exclusive luxury mall. She’s like a honey-drunk bumblebee, bouncing from aisle to aisle, descending on some random item every five seconds just to mutter hmm and dart off again.

Lena is moving at a more civilized pace. She has long since stopped trying to keep up, both with her best friend’s not-quite-incriminating measure of super speed and her unfathomable decision-making process.

“Lena help,” Kara pouts, suddenly back, familiar and warm at Lena’s side. “Do fifteen-year-olds like anything?”

Lena doesn’t take her eyes off the art books she’s been perusing, but she also doesn’t stop herself from leaning in, her shoulder resting briefly against Kara’s, their hips grazing. A friendly gesture. A welcome back. “You remember Ruby, right?” she teases. “Cute? Bright? Probably six feet tall by next Wednesday?”

Kara huffs. “Yes, but she's—you know. Cool now.” She makes a gesture that’s somewhere between jazz hands and a bomb exploding. “What do cool teenagers like?”

Lena sends her a self-deprecating smile. “Do consider who it is you’re asking.”

Kara’s gaze tumbles from Lena’s face to her chest to her hands, and then she nods. Lena feels like she should be insulted by Kara’s quick acquiescence, but all thought leaves her mind when Kara steps closer, reaching across Lena’s body to play with the head of a fat round brush. Lena watches the fine bristles spread wide around the pads of Kara’s ring and middle finger, and tells herself that she isn’t affected by the situation at all.

“You know,” she breezes, veering away from the wisp of Kara’s breath against her temple, “Ruby’s been sketching a lot more, lately.”

Kara, immediately revived, follows Lena over to a glass case marked with Holbein’s logo. But when she glances up at the price tags, she goes pale. “Seven hundred dollars?” she yelps. “For colored pencils?”

Lena hums. “They’re pastels,” she explains, flipping the case open with a pleasing wood-on-metal snick. “High-grade pigments, no fillers.” She runs her fingers down a length of cobalt blue, watching Kara’s throat bob when she reaches the gold lettering along its side. “I hear they lay down incredibly soft,” Lena hears herself say, her voice low in the narrow space left between them. “Rich and easy. Just a hint of pressure is enough to achieve whatever effect you desire.”

Kara looks up, her glossy pink lips now inches away from Lena’s own. “Since when do you know about art materials?” she rasps.

Lena breaks into a light sweat at the question. “Well, you know,” she stammers, straightening. “It’s. No secret that I’m a patron—” She gestures helplessly, trying to step away again but finding herself trapped between the display case and Kara’s body. “That I—I’ve always had a thing—”

Kara’s eyebrows twitch as she waits for Lena to finally finish a sentence, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth when Lena fails to do so. Her amusement at Lena’s floundering should embarrass her, but combined with the close heat of Kara’s body and her cocky smirk, Lena finds it alarmingly arousing.

“I have literally never heard you talk about art before,” Kara smarms. “Oh wait! Actually I specifically remember you canceling on Bruce Wayne’s charity gala when you realized he was having it at the Museum of Modern Arts, two years ago.”

“Kara—” She’s still so close. Lena is beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“You were already in Gotham,” Kara points out.

“Listen,” Lena flusters. “I am a well-rounded—”

Kara’s eyes are dark and sparkling. “You were his date.”

“...I was his friend,” Lena corrects. “Bruce and I were never—not like—” She gestures between Kara’s body and her own, the movement greatly inhibited by their closeness, and ceasing entirely when she realizes where her argument is headed.

Kara bites down on what Lena is sure would otherwise be a maddeningly self-satisfied grin. “My birthday’s coming up, too,” Kara says. And then, her voice gentle, “But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Lena huffs out a breath. Of course she knows that. Kara is her best friend. It’s completely natural that Lena would spend night after sleepless night poring over catalogues and browsing the dark web, trying to find her the perfect gift.

“You got me these?” Kara grins, picking up a viridian green pencil and twirling it between two of her fingers. She looks so pretty and pleased that Lena nods, instantly resolved to trash the one-of-a-kind mini-anti-life-equation she’d managed to place the winning bid on, and gift Kara Holbein’s entire collection, as originally intended.

Kara still hasn’t moved. “Lena,” she says. “You know you didn’t need to spend all that money on me.”

Lena huffs out a humorless laugh. If Kara thinks the pencils are pricey, ditching the anti-life-equation is definitely the right call. It’s a shame—apparently it’s super effective against fruit flies and fungus gnats, both of which Kara has been unsuccessfully battling in her kitchen for the past couple of months. “You know me,” Lena says, something bitter twisting at the corners of her mouth. “Always going overboard.”

“No,” Kara tells her. The surety of her tone draws Lena’s gaze back up to those ludicrously blue eyes. “I do know you,” Kara says. “And you always get it exactly right.”

The silence that ensues stretches taut between them, stretches thin, fraying Lena’s nerves along with it. She should get Kara some canvases too, Lena decides. In fact, why not make it a set? Add some new brushes, and oil paints, maybe a new easel—oh!

“Mechanical erasers,” she blurts, and darts away.

Kara isn’t quite as quick on the uptake this time, taking long seconds to rejoin her on the other side of the aisle.

“Not like what?” Kara asks.

Lena blinks at her, puzzled by the non-sequitur. Kara’s eyebrows twitch together again, but this time they stay there, a tiny divot in the skin between them. Lena doesn’t know what to do with—well, any of it, quite frankly. “Since the secret’s out,” she says, pointedly looking away from the curious expression on her best friend’s face and gesturing at the collection of erasers, “do you prefer the—”

The feeling of Kara’s hand at her waist is highly unlikely and profoundly baffling. But when Lena looks down, trailing off, there it is; Kara’s thumb, settling against Lena's hip bone, her fingers sliding—sure and steady—into the gap of Lena’s open coat.

“You said you and Bruce were not like you and me,” Kara says. “What are we like?”

Lena’s heart is slamming in her chest like Kara is playing tennis with it. She’s so frustrated that Kara won’t just let it slide and allow Lena to escape with her pride intact; she’s so enamored with the way Kara looks at her, open and curious, as if she honestly doesn’t know what Lena is trying her best not to say for fear it will ruin their friendship.

The situation is so impossible that Lena doesn’t register the movement of Kara’s other hand until she’s slipped it around the back of her neck. It rests there—joining the other in its exploration of formerly firmly out-of-the-way places—with just the barest hint of pressure, her fingertips settling warm against the vulnerable skin of Lena’s nape.

Lena flusters, suddenly forced to address Kara’s question in a far more certain shade than she’s allowed them both to get away with over the years. If Lena opts for “the kind of friends I thought I’d never have”—a bitter, but familiar favorite—will Kara still help her blend the outline between the soft tones of their friendship and the vivid hues of what Lena is pretty certain is their mutual desire?

She swallows, watching the quick flash of Kara’s tongue as she wets her lip, reveling in the sight of it up close, struggling to maintain her solid form beneath the feeling of Kara’s hands on her body.

“There’s…” Kara whispers, swaying closer, “...probably a couple of things we really should talk about.” Her nose brushes Lena’s cheek before resting there, her eyes falling closed, their foreheads just barely touching. “But do you think it would be okay if—just for now—” She’s muttering the words almost directly into Lena’s mouth. “If I kissed you, first? Before, I mean, the rest of—”

Lena tugs herself up by the lapels of Kara’s jacket before Kara even finishes her question, the darkness behind her closed eyelids sparking into bright technicolor at the soft press of Kara’s lips against her own. They’re warm, and yielding, and slightly sticky—probably from the fresh-baked cinnamon roll she’d scarfed down before entering the store. Just before they pull apart, Lena catches the slightest hint of sweetness with the tip of her tongue.

Lena hums.

Kara is right. They really should be talking about this, and not necking in the middle of Eulalia Literature & Arts like a couple of boarding school kids on a school trip. But Kara is looking at her as if Lena is a wonderful secret freshly revealed, so Lena really can’t be expected to keep herself from being pulled back into Kara’s orbit. Can’t be blamed, even, for doing it lips-parted, so eager for another taste of what feels like the one bright spark of undiluted joy she’s ever felt she actually deserved that she shamelessly licks into Kara’s mouth, her entire body lighting up in oversaturated iridescence when Kara meets her with similarly unselfconscious sincerity.

Kara doesn’t let her go, even when they pause for air, both of her hands twitching against Lena’s body, as if keeping herself from pulling Lena back in is a tremendous effort. “Can we just stay here for a minute?” she hushes, her breath mingling with Lena’s own.

Lena smiles. “I think the security guard may have a couple of things to say about that,” she tells Kara, flashing an embarrassed glance over her shoulder at the woman in question.

“Oh, shoot.” Kara flinches, flushing an irresistible shade of pink Lena doubts even Holbein’s pigments could emulate. She rarely wears her glasses anymore, but Lena watches her reach for them out of habit, her movements jittery and raw.

“It’s alright, darling,” Lena soothes her, thrilling privately at the endearment as it falls off her lips. “I’m sure all will be forgiven when the cashier runs my credit card.”

And she’s right; when they exit, the guard gives them a nod that may even signal some mild approval. Whether that’s about the fortune Lena just spent on art supplies or their impromptu public exhibit, Lena isn’t sure.

Later, after weeks of conversations, after numerous tiny discoveries and world-shattering revelations—one of which has Kara confessing to once helping a fifth-dimensional imp create a half-dozen miserable alternate realities in which the full, vibrant spectrum of their love for each other went unacknowledged, and never led to a kiss—Kara blows out thirty-one colorful candles, and unwraps first (in the company of all of their friends) her gifts; and then (in the company of only her lover) Lena’s wrap-around A-line dress.

Lena’s legs are already trembling when Kara finally glides her fingers to the seam of her thigh, the pad of her thumb nudging gently at the patch of darkening cotton between Lena’s legs. “Could I try something new?” she asks, and Lena, who has discovered that Kara’s ideas only ever fall into one of two categories, one being complete absurdity and the other unmitigated brilliance, sighs.

“I want to paint you,” Kara says.

It so figures, Lena thinks. All of these new toys, and Kara can't decide which one she wants to play with first.

“Okay,” Lena says, driven to impatient acquiescence by Kara’s thumb, now moving in gentle, tiny circles against her.

“Okay?” Kara confirms, hand stilling, sitting up.

Lena clasps Kara’s teasing fingers and presses them down hard where she needs them, her back arching into the touch of their joined hands. “After,” she demands.

This was written for the multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge, using the prompts ‘vignette/slice of life’, ‘shopping for a gift’, ‘friends to lovers’ and ‘colored pencils’. You should give it a whirl!

[scribblekingdom]

I think the Nameless Army is becoming a bit too much to handle...

[noitsforthebetter]

the most devastating trope in my opinion is when characters spend the whole story haunted by a ghost or entity only to realize at the end that it was themselves the whole time

[inknopewetrust]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨, 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝! 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭—𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝.

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐈 - 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 [𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 [𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

[𝔉𝔦𝔠 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐕𝐈 - 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 [𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐕𝐈𝐈 - 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 [𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

[𝔉𝔦𝔠 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐈𝐗 - 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐗 - 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐎𝐜𝐭. - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 [𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝟕:𝟎𝟎 𝐏𝐌 𝐂𝐒𝐓, 𝐔𝐒𝐀, 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

[zazaofpugs]

“But who would take care of the building?!” They’re called co-ops, babes.

List of biggest corporate landlords in the US.

[gumbiedots]

"The Woodworm Men." Ghosts. BBC, 9 Aug. 2021.

[breckstonevailskier]

Looks like they're about ready to film in New Vegas!

Pictures by u/ericalm_ on Reddit.

[whgore]

Fangoria <3

[vexedandperplexed]

i'm finally watching twin peaks for the first time and i was truly not ready for how much of an fucking weirdo dale cooper is. just an absolute gremlin of a man. his neurodivergent behaviours and offputting smile have enraptured me.