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[a-method-in-it]

In union activism, we have a concept of "low," "medium" and "high" level action.

Low level actions are things that mostly publicly broadcast support: signing your name on a letter to management; participating in an email reply-all action; wearing a union tee shirt or pin on the same day; attending a lunchtime rally in the break room, etc.

Medium level actions are things that are more confrontational and might actually inconvenience management: an email action designed to overwhelm a manager's inbox and make it unusable; doing a work-to-rule day; participating in a march on the boss.

High level actions are things that are even more confrontational or involve withholding labor: public shaming, a sufficiently heated march on the boss; a lunch time "practice picket"; a limited-duration work stoppage; and, of course, an indefinite strike.

Obviously strikes are the thing everyone thinks of, but here's the thing: even the most ideologically committed union member will not be willing to go on strike the first day of your contract campaign.

They just won't. You need to work up to that. You need to get people comfortable with doing less intense things first, and once those seem normal to them, you move up the scale.

People need to see that nothing bad happens after they participate in an action, and they need to see all their co-workers participating, too. They need to see that, yes, this was uncomfortable and maybe even scary, but it was fine and other people here had my back.

This is a lesson the labor movement learned many decades ago that I think other activist groups and activist-minded people would do well to absorb, too:

The Low Level Stuff Is What Makes The Big Stuff Possible

Don't assume that "when it gets bad enough" you'll step up then. Because by then, things will be even more intense than they are now. The needs will be greater and the risks will be scarier. And you will think to yourself, "Everyone else has just been going along with this, so if I take a stand, I'll just get crushed."

Take a small stand now. Go to protests; call Congress; donate money; attend community meetings; join a local political group or get involved with your local democratic party; join or form a tenants union; become a clinic escort; etc. etc. etc.

Take a small stand now and do it over and over until it becomes normal to you.

That's how you become the person who takes bigger stands someday.

[insidekatmind]

Deal-Cho Sang-Woo

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

Cho Sang-Woo didn't feel guilty about ending the lives of most of his teammates. While Gi-Hun, his childhood friend, had shown a sense of compassion and had given up the money he had won to donate it to the families of the dead players., Sang-woo wasn't happy that he gave up the money, causing him to lose too.. The next months were filled with attempts to regain his financial stability, but he failed, as usual. That was until he received a card, the same one that had invited him to the ‘Squid Game’ a year ago.

This card was different. It was black, with golden figures unlike anything he had ever seen. Sang-Woo studied it, wondering whether it was worth reaching out to them again. His desperation pushed him to make the call. What they offered him left him in disbelief: they didn’t want him as a player, but as a guard. The message explained that he had been under secret surveillance by the organizers and that they believed he was suited to participate in the game from the other side, in the highest rank.

Sang-Woo returned to the island, now in a new role:his mask bearing the symbol of a square. Everything had changed. He had access to things he never had before. As the games began, he couldn’t help but notice Player 424:you. Sang-Woo was sure that you were destined to win these games.

It was a night like any other, and you, like everyone else, were condemned to live in constant fear and hope. The games of Squid Game had turned each day into a fight for survival. Yet, that evening something strange was happening. When they were escorting you to the bathroom, one of the guards stopped you and ordered the others to leave you alone.

You had never seen this particular guard before, but his appearance left no doubt: he was one of the highest-ranking, with the square mask indicating his position. His face was emotionless, but you knew he wasn’t there for a simple check-up.

"424," he said, his voice filtered through the mask, as the bathroom door closed behind you. "We need to talk."

His words hit you like a sudden blow. The tone was authoritative, but also curious. It wasn’t a request; it was an order. You felt vulnerable, but also trapped in the situation. You had no choice but to listen.

"You’re not like the others," he continued, his voice now harder. "I’ve been watching your behavior. Your determination. I... I can help you."

He paused for a moment, as though weighing every word he was about to say. You, unsure of what to expect, waited in silence, trying not to show your fear.

"These games aren’t just a test of survival," he finally said. "They’re a test of corruption. And I’m willing to make you win, if you accept my conditions. You just need to follow the rules. Because this time, those inside the game can also control it."

His gaze, hidden behind the mask, seemed even more threatening. You knew this proposal wasn’t free; something was about to change drastically. You had heard stories of alliances, betrayals, and deceptions, but never of someone willing to put everything on the line like this. Your life, as always, depended on a decision.

"Do you accept?" he asked, his voice low and relentless.

It was a difficult choice, but you knew this could be your only way to win. The question hung in the air, and you, aware that time was not on your side, answered in your own way, ready to find out just how far you'd go in the heart of the game.

You look at the guard in surprise. "What do you want in return?" you whisper. The guard's gaze was fixed on your face. Even though you couldn't see his expression through the mask, you could feel his satisfaction with your immediate question.

He moves closer to you, touching your lip with his thumb.“Nothing but your total loyalty.” He replied in a firm but calm voice. "Total obedience." he continues to say as he continues to play with your lip “and you give me pleasure ” he whispers possessively.

Before you has the opportunity to respond, he grabs you by the hips and pushes you against the sink. He was now standing in front and between your legs, bringing his body even closer to yours. You could feel his heat through his clothes, as his gaze remained glued onto your face.Sang-woo leans down and whispers in your ear. "You'll do what I say and I will get you out of this game. Simple enough to understand."

You nod at his words. "To be clear, what do you mean by 'that I have to give you pleasure'?" you whisper. He chuckles at your question, still having your body pinned down against the sink. "I like how your mind works right away." He starts to play with the hem of your shirt, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin of your abdomen.

His voice was barely a whisper, but you could feel the heat of his breath against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine."When I say that you have to give me pleasure, I mean every type of pleasure I decide." He runs his nose across your neck, breathing you in.

He lifts his mask.Sang-woo slowly starts placing soft kisses along your jawline, moving his lips to your ear, his touch leaving a trail of hot, tingles on your skin. He takes your earlobe into his mouth, licking and biting lightly before continuing to whisper."You'll give me anything I want. Any type of pleasure I need." He says against your ear, his words both a statement and a demand.He moves backwards, giving you a little space. You could see his eyes staring at you from behind the mask. He reaches up and slowly starts to lift the mask from his face.

You're left speechless for a moment, as you see his face for the first time. He's beautiful, there is no denying it. His features are sharp, yet oddly delicate. He has soft brown eyes that are staring at you with such intensity that you feel frozen in place, his gaze pinning you down more than his body ever had.

Sang woo reaches for your chin, making you look up at him. He slowly presses his thumb against your lip, almost like he was trying to memorize the feel of your skin. "Do we have a deal then?"

He asks slowly, his voice now clearer without the mask.Sang-woo leans his face down even closer, his eyes fixed on yours. He looks almost predatory, but you can also feel a hint of excitement within his gaze.His hand was still holding your chin and he gently caresses your cheek, his touch unexpectedly tender.

“Yes,” you whisper, looking at him, taking in his face. He nods, still looking at you intently. A small sly smirk appears on his lips as he hears your agreement.

"Good," he says, his voice still a low, husky whisper.He runs his hand down your neck, his fingers trailing over your collarbone and down your chest. His touch is light but possessive, as if he was marking you as his property.Sang-woo moves even closer to you, his body pressing against yours.His hand is on your side now, slipping under your shirt and against your skin. You can feel the heat of his touch as he starts to move further up."I'm going to enjoy having you." he whispers, his voice a mix of excitement and satisfaction.His lips brush against your neck again, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

You moan softly and cling to him. He hums against your neck in response, feeling your hands holding onto him. He seems pleased with your reaction and becomes even more bold, his kisses turning into soft, gentle bites along your skin. His hand that was on your torso moves even higher, sliding over your stomach and then back down, his touch leaving a trail of tingles on your skin he explores your body.

His fingers dig into your waist, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you even closer. His body is flush against yours, the heat of his skin mixing with yours.He continues to kiss and bite along your neck and jawline, each touch leaving you even more breathless. He starts moving lower, his mouth tracing a path down from your neck to your collarbone, and then down to your chest.

He pushes your shirt up a bit as his lips find the exposed skin. He pauses to look at you, his eyes now dark with desire. He then moves back to your neck, his teeth gently biting your earlobe before he speaks."My pretty thing..." he whispers, the possessive tone clear in his voice. He pushes a leg between yours, his thigh pressing against you.

You moan again looking at him. He can see the lust in your eyes as he looks back at you, his own gaze equally intense. His leg is still pressed between yours, and he leans in to whisper in your ear again."You like this, don't you? The way I touch you, the way I claim you as mine?" He says, his voice a low, gruff purr against your skin.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as he presses closer, his body fully against yours. His thigh presses against you even more, and he chuckles softly at your reaction."Good," he whispers, his hand sliding up to your jaw, turning your face towards his. "Because I'm going to take you completely. Every inch of you."

You moan, clinging to him even tighter. He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His hand grips your chin tightly as he kisses you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth. His body presses against you even tighter, his thigh still rubbing against you.

You moan into the kiss, moving your hips for more friction. He feels your movement, and he growls against your lips, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. Sang-woo moves his hand down towards your hip, gripping you possessively and guiding your movements. He wants you desperate and needy against him.

His kiss becomes rougher, his tongue teasing yours, as he pushes you more firmly against the sink. With every movement of your hips, he increases the pressure between your legs, his own arousal growing. He breaks the kiss, panting against your mouth."You're mine," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "All mine."

"Yours, all yours" you murmur near his lips and then kiss him again. He kisses you back hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand moves up your thigh. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin possessively, as he presses you even harder against the sink.

"That's right," he growls against your lips. "You're mine, and I'm going to take you every way I want." He starts to push your shirt up, wanting to feel more of your skin against his. His hand skims over your hip and then moves to your stomach, his touch light but confident. He continues to kiss you, his mouth moving down to your neck, and then your shoulders as he starts to undress you even more.

He finally pulls away, his gaze roaming over your body, taking in every inch as if he was claiming it as his own. His breathing is heavy, his eyes still filled with desire."You're beautiful," he whispers, his hands tracing over your body, his touch possessive and firm. "So soft, so mine."

He pushes you against the wall, pinning you there with his body. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks."I'm going to own every part of you," he growls, his voice low and rough. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to."

He pulls down your sweatpants and panties and then pulls down his sweatpants and boxers and then enters you and grunts seeing how tight you were. He pauses for a moment, feeling how tight you were. He gently grabbed your ribs with his strong waist and strong touch. He pressed hard against your body and his breathing became heavier. His lips left your ears and moved to your neck and shoulders. He moved away from your neck and rested his head on your cheek. you can feel it.

Sang-woo whispers "Mine" and his hand squeezes tighter around your ribs. "All mine" he mumbles again and he starts kissing your neck while continuing to move with you. You moan, scratching his back from the pleasure you were feeling. "So good".

“Mmm,” he hums softly at the feeling of your nails scratching his back. He lifts his head from your neck, wanting to look at your face.His eyes dark and lustful as he stares at you, taking in the expression on your face as he continues to move rough with you."You're so good to me," he whispers. "So perfect."

You moan softly and look up at him before capturing your lips with his. He deepens the kiss, his hand sliding up to your face as he kisses you back hungrily. He pushes closer to you, pinning you against the wall as he continues to move with you. His body feels hot and strong against yours, and his grip is tight and possessive.

Sang-woo pulls away slightly, his lips hovering near your ear. His breathing is heavy, and he can't help but let out a soft moan, his enjoyment obvious."You're so good," he whispers. "So sweet."His hand slides from your face down to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he continues to move.

“I’m coming” you whisper looking at him. He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, and his grip on you tightens.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice a low, rough growl against your ear. "Let me feel how good you are." He starts to move a more faster, his body pressing against yours."That's it," he whispers. "You're doing so well for me."

You moan and he comes, clinging to him more. Sango woo pushed himself two more times and came inside you. He let out a low moan as he finally let go, his body trembling against yours.Sang-woo held you close, his face burying in your neck. His breathing was ragged, and he leaned into you, his grip on you still tight.“You’re amazing,” he murmured against your skin. “Absolutely perfect.”

You give a lazy smile resting your head on his chest. "May I know your name?" You murmur softly. He hums softly, his hand slowly moving up and down your back.

"It's Cho Sang-woo," he says softly, a slight smile on his lips. "But you can call me Sangwoo." He gently lifts your head up so that you're looking at him.

"And what's your name, darling?" he asks, his voice now softer and a bit more tender. “Y/N” you reply softly.

"Y/N," he repeats softly, as if testing it on his lips. "That's a pretty name."

He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear."I want to hear you say my name, Y/N," he whispers, his eyes dark and intense as they locked with yours. "Can you do that for me, darling?" he continues, his voice low and seductive. "Say my name, just like I'm yours."

You nod softly looking at him. “Sang-woo,” you whisper. He hums, a satisfied smile playing on his lips."That's it." he murmurs, his fingers tracing lightly along your jawline. "Good girl. I like the way my name sounds on your lips."

[mikibwrites]

The Price is Right

inspired by @theweewooshow 's post about a kissing booth :) Happy Valentines Day everyone!

bucktommy | 1.4k | G | ao3

This is ridiculous. He’s officially lost his marbles. 

Tommy’s been in this line for at least fifteen minutes, and every third minute of that has been spent telling himself he should leave. The other 2 minutes of each spiraling cycle have been spent eavesdropping his fellow hopefuls in line, listening to their tittering about how hot the firefighter working this shift of the booth is, surreptitiously cataloguing every person that he can see in front of and behind him and evaluating them on what–little, sadly–he knows about Evan’s preferences and whether or not their dreams of bagging a date with him will come true. Which then, in turn, sends him back into spiraling and berating himself for being among them, given his history with said firefighter. 

He needs to leave. 

There are roughly ten people in front of him, and Evan definitely hasn’t spotted him yet. He could totally duck out and no one would be the wiser. He contemplates pulling his phone out of his pocket with an air of importance, putting the completely silent device to his ear and pretending something dire has just happened that requires his immediate attention. No one would question him for getting out of line, no one would suspect that he’d lost his nerve. They’d think, wow, he must be important to be needed somewhere so urgently. 

Tommy’s definitely, officially for real this time, lost his marbles. 

Also, there are now only seven people left in front of him. 

As he watches each person get their sweet little peck on the cheek, he tries to tell himself this is for a good cause. The money goes to charity. There’s nothing weird about giving to charity. Nothing at all. There’s also nothing stopping him from just dropping the money in the basket on a table near the door that’s designated for just plain donations. He doesn’t need to get anything out of it if that’s all he’s hoping to do. 

He’s definitely hoping to get something out of it. He can at least admit that to himself, if nothing else. 

Five people left. 

“Oh my god, he’s so hot,” Tommy hears from behind him. “Look at those arms. Hold me down, daddy.” He almost chokes, the girl’s voice clearly pitched for just her friend next to her to hear, but he’s apparently blessed with supersonic hearing. The friend chimes in as well. “I wonder if he’s actually a good kisser or if he’s one of those dudes who relies on his rizz alone and then can’t deliver when it counts.”

Tommy has no idea what ‘rizz’ is, but he has to physically stop himself from turning around and describing for this girl in detail just how good of a kisser Evan is, how well he can deliver. He’s sure that wouldn’t go over well. 

Two people left. Evan is being so gracious and attentive to each of his patrons that he still hasn’t noticed Tommy. He could still make a run for it. 

He’s not going to. 

There’s roughly enough time for one more cycle of spiraling before he makes it in front of Evan, but Tommy chooses to spend it going over what the hell he’s going to say. Surely, Evan may protest giving his ex a kiss, even if it’s for charity, given the way they ended. It’d be well within his right to do so. So Tommy needs to have some justifications ready just in case Evan gets the wrong idea here. 

And what is the idea? Tommy failed to decide before he attempted this ridiculous stunt. Honestly, he’s been so, so god damned touch starved since he walked out Evan’s door that he thinks he’d do anything for just a brush of fingertips from Evan at this point. And that’s it, really…he only wants it from Evan. His coworkers have told him multiple times that he needs to just go out and get his ex out of his system–Donato offered to wingperson for him, even–but the very idea turns his stomach. 

But did he actually think that throwing some money at charity at a kissing booth of all things was going to get them anywhere near a reconciliation? Jesus, he should have just texted. Not that he hasn’t tried that, many many many times, and all of them ended up deleted because regardless of what he likes to tell himself he does not have the courage to put himself out there without the reassurance–or despair–of seeing Evan’s actual expression when he says what he wants to say. 

Which is…what? Exactly? He still hasn’t deci–

“Tommy?”

Shit. He’s missed the last person in front of him getting their dutiful peck on the cheek, and now he’s run out of time. 

Evan’s voice as he says his name is full of awe, trepidation, and…dare he say it…hope? His expression is even more devastating: like he’s seeing the sunrise just beginning after a century spent underground. His narrowed eyes are earnest and a little guarded, but they are trained wholly on Tommy.

Shit….what was he going to say?

“Uh, yeah. Hi. I, um…well I. Uh.” Tommy runs his fingers over his hair roughly, feeling unbearably stupid and exposed. He should have run when he had the chance. “Look, Evan, I–”

Evan’s breath hitches audibly at the sound of his name. They’re staring at each other. 

“Shit or get off the pot, dude, we’re all paying customers!” Some guy further back in line is shouting. 

“Um. Did you want a kiss?” Evan says, his face turning pinker by the second. And this. This Tommy can definitely answer.

“Yes,” he says, with maybe a little too much conviction behind the word for their current circumstances. Evan seems to clock it immediately, his eyes flicking down to Tommy’s mouth before coming back up to his eyes, his expression morphing to hopeful disbelief. “But, I mean, you don’t have to, here, I know you probably weren’t expecting–”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Evan’s mouth sealing onto his. 

God, god, he’s missed these lips. Each slide is like a revelation, and the thought is not lost on him that they’re in the middle of what is essentially a work function, they are both in uniform for christ's sake, having a whole existential crisis shared along with their breath and space and saliva. Because yes, Evan has now bullied his insanely talented tongue right behind Tommy’s teeth and is exploring like he’s going to be asked to draw a map later. 

Evan kisses him long, hard, and thorough, endless seconds ticking by and Tommy definitely doesn’t listen to any of the complaining going on in the line behind him. Evan does, though, and he very reluctantly pulls his lips away from Tommy’s and blinks in the most adorably flustered way and Tommy’s so, so gone on this man. How did he ever walk away from this?

“Can we talk?” Evan asks breathlessly.

“Please. But maybe later. Your adoring public awaits,” he adds, gesturing with his thumb to the line behind him, still nearly thirty people strong. He can’t blame them, but he’s also feeling a tad possessive so he leans in one more time to press his lips to the apple of Evan’s cheek, causing the blush to intensify when he pulls away. 

Tommy begins to turn to walk away, his smile already making his cheeks sore when Evan clears his throat. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay, you know.” He’s smirking, the little shit. 

Before Tommy can make a move, someone in line shouts, “Damn! How much does it cost to get that?”

“That is not for sale,” Evan states with finality, but he’s still looking at Tommy, lips pursing, trying to hold back a full blown grin. There are a few groans from the line. 

Tommy reaches into his wallet, pulls out a $100, and slaps it on the table in front of Evan. “What time does your shift end?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at the cafe two blocks down. Bring those lips. We’ll talk.” Tommy congratulates himself on being smooth as he smirks right back at the look on Evan’s face. 

“Mmm, okay. I’ll bring these lips. But I hope you remember they’re good for more than just talking,” Evan adds as Tommy turns to walk away. 

He retracts his self-congratulations as he trips over his own feet. 

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

alright y'all. since assholes don't seem to get it:

Taylor Swift is not there to piss you rednecks off. She is not there to make the NFL more money (but she's doing it anyway and therefore you should be grateful-- better stadiums, etc). She's there to support her boyfriend, like PEOPLE in a HEALTHY, LOVING RELATIONSHIP do, which I get is foreign to a lot of you.

And FURTHERMORE: It's okay to not like her music! I don't get it, but it's whatever. But shitting on her as a person? Seriously? This amazing, unproblematic woman who cheers on everyone even when they beat her, donates MILLIONS to her backup performers and charities, and openly speaks about women's and queer rights? What the hell is wrong with you??

[gangstalkerbarbie]

No hate to anyone talking here but I'm gonna be real for a sec I don't understand this take. Obviously you can both get famous and make money on here.

You know those accounts that keep showing up on YouTube channels and sell merch of themselves? You can buy merch of pukicho because pukicho a hustler. That creep Neil Gaiman used to live here (and tbf I always found him creepy and patronizing, maybe because I had never read anything of his so didn't have the rose tinted glasses, but that did nothing to make him less famous).

Haven't you ever, in the wake of a humanitarian disaster somewhere non-Anglophone, gotten a lot of very mysterious messages in obviously native English that violate the manners people would have around begging in those places, from ostensible survivors of the catastrophe? Which, exploiting the fact that the infrastructure to send and receive money there might be very compromised and that you probably have no idea what normal people with loved ones there do about that, keep asking you for Paypal donations and gift cards?

What about the entire community of Artists On Tumblr, whose idols are the ones that, in fact, manage or once managed long ago to make money off of people on here?

You aren't famous on Tumblr because you aren't the type of person to want to become famous, and you aren't rich off of Tumblr because you aren't famous enough to sell merchandise of yourself and also because you aren't the type of person to exploit its core vulnerable demographic (teenage autistic girls who like cartoons).

This is commendable, but not actually intrinsic to the website or its culture. It's a positive reflection on everyone who reblogs the sentiment and believes it, but there are market forces you could ride to fame and fortune with a little effort everywhere, for eyes that wish to see.

all articles about tumblr’s “decline” boil down to 2 things: you can’t get famous on here and you can’t make money on here. And they don’t get that that’s why we like it here.

[sillygoofyqueer]

So, originally Crowyuan occured when Bingge was already Demon Emperor, then came the idea of him becoming known as the Corvid King while Binghe was still a little disciple. What if he transmigrates and becomes known as the Corvid King before Binghe is even born? What if he finds this poor abused slave boy and decides This Is Mine Now before realising Oops! He's taken the scum villain under his wing, metaphorically and possibly physically too. Too bad, that's his son/little brother now. Oh but what if he transmigrates a little earlier and it goes the same except it's with both Shen Jiu AND Yue Qi? Or with all the other slave children too because he feels bad just saving two, even if those two are the only ones relevant to the original plot?

Wow....the Original™ Crowyuan timeline........back in the good old days where I didn't have so many different AUs to think about.....(/silly I love them all) ANYWAY. Corvid King crowyuan would definitely stumble across the street kids - he gains B-points n shit through answering prayers and gaining followers, so of course he's going to listen to the prayers of some poor little street children with nowhere else to go. It's not like he doesn't have the means to look after them, whether that be giving them to couples who badly want a child but can't have one for whatever reason, or placing them into orphanages that he funds himself (note: they don't know that he's funding it, they just believe there's a generous rich person donating whenever they need the money). However, when he's dealing with this new band of street kids, there is one child who just....does not want to let go of him. He scorns Crowyuan's existence when the deity first finds them in the alleys, offering gentle words of reassurance despite the late hour and leading the children along (yes, "Come Little Children" style, what kind of animal do you take me for?). Unlike the other naïve idiots, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi have seen this played out before. A stranger comes in the night, promising food and a home and love, and those who follow are found not long after. Dead. Crowyuan watches on in...a mixture of respect and worry as one of the children tries to explain the danger of following strangers in the night to the others, and another stands back and watches it happen, scorn clear upon his face. These children should not know the harsh dangers of life, not so young, but it is good that at least two of them are smart enough to not trust strangers, even if that isn't necessary in this instance. So, he offers proof of who he is. He sits down and tells them who he is, and he makes them pray, so he can listen to what they want. The snappy, unimpressed child doesn't, he just glares and scoffs when his friend drops his head down, but then shifts as if to protect him if necessary. When he respond's to this friend's prayer aloud - "Xiao-Jiu would be happy and safe in a bed, I think" - everyone seems to startle. (Of course, he has to repeat this exercise many times until this snappish child, this 'Xiao-Jiu', finally relents). He finally is able to lead these children to a nearby orphanage, ran by people who could do so much good with just the right amount of gold, and he drops them off there along with a pouch filled with gold. However, when he turns to leave, Xiao-Jiu clings to him. He stares up at him with a sort of fury in his eyes, demanding to know who he thinks he is, ditching them after dumping them off with these random people. A street child who speaks to a god, whose fear of being left by his saviour outweighs his fear of the power this creature wields, and does not hesitate to cling to this deity's robes with his dirty hands.

[littlethingwithfeathers]

Small Ways to Make a Difference

So... we all are stressing about Trump (and let's face it... Musk really) slashing through budgets left and right for public services and such. And... it feels like there's not really anything you can do about it besides protest (which not everyone can do or is comfortable doing). But... you can! Because here's the thing... while a lot of stuff is losing national funding, much of that stuff is actually staffed, scheduled, and budgeted at the local level. And usage by the public is usually the metric tracked in order to determine exactly how much of the local budget gets allocated. More use? More people through the door? More money. And the opposite is true. Think of a local budget like pie... and the size of slices is allocated by how many people are going to eat that slice pie. So... wanna help fight this nonsense and ensure public services don't go away? USE YOUR PUBLIC SERVICES. But what does that mean? What's a public service? Anything your tax dollars pay for. Libraries. Parks. Public Health Departments. Public schools. Many museums and such as well. So here's some suggestions (most of which do not cost anything but time): Use your public library. Check out books. (Even if you don't read them. Have a favorite book? Make sure it stays in circulation by giving it traffic!) Go log into a computer and use the internet for a bit. Reserve and request books/movies/music (did you know that you can get DVD sets at a library? For free? No streaming service needed!) Attend a meeting/presentation. Hell, SCHEDULE a meeting for something... maybe a game night or a book club. Go to public parks and green spaces. Especially if there's a logbook or other way to be counted. Your presence is ammunition for the people fighting to keep green spaces from getting paved. Also take pictures of yourself here and tag those spaces on social media. This gives them free images of real people to use when they're making their budget presentations and writing grant requests. Look up your local health department and see what services you can access at your income level. Often they offer free or discounted vaccines, health checkups, and cancer screenings. And if you're hemming and hawing about whether or not you need it, your traffic will ensure someone who very much does need their services has access. Call and find out when they're slow (my uneducated guess is that traffic picks up around the start of school and during cold/flu season) so you aren't competing with people trying to get sports physicals and vaccines for their kids. Listen to and interact with your local public radio and TV station. This one is pretty self explanatory. Log onto their website and stream their programming. Make music requests. Look up stuff on their community calendar. Even if you aren't into their programming, they're valuable community resources for communicating local events and such, especially during an emergency. Oh... and donate money if you can. They really depend on that stuff... especially now. Use public transit. This one is pretty self explanatory too, but might cost a little money. This includes public rent-a-bikes if they're around. Even if you don't need it, use it sometimes. It will keep it there for others who might depend on it. I'm sure there's a bunch that I'm missing, but in my area, this is a pretty good starting place. Feel free to add on!

[short-black-diamond]

Hello, I need help getting this new fundraiser off the ground for my friend, can you please donate and spread the word? 🙏❤️❤️🇵🇸🇵🇸 https://www.tumblr.com/youseffamily3/772721482018308096/new-link-on-chuffed?source=share

EVERYONE DONATE MONEY!! DONATE DONATE DONATE!!

FREE FREE PALESTINE!!!

INSHAA ALLAH YOU WILL GET EVERYTHING YOU NEED!!

I will pray for you and every other palestinian that reached out to me. I know that you are strong. You don't stop believing in Allah and that is what drives you to face the zionists, to continue to live. I am proud of you, and i know that Allah is, too.

[senvurii]

real ones remember dsmp festival ctommy

[andhumanslovedstories]

Update on update! These tentative agreements advanced to member vote because Providence was refusing to concede anything on the issues like PTO and staffing. They basically said flat out “we are not going to offer anymore than this.” It was a new contract almost identical to the contract offered before the strike.

A really big thing is that Providence wants to stop union contracts from syncing up like this again so we can’t do another large strike like this. Providence REALLY does not want that to happen.

(Makes you think about the strength of a general strike for labor rights and the economy as a whole.)

With 92 % of members voting, the agreements were overwhelming rejected. 83% of voting members have authorized continuing the strike. I’m honestly surprised, very pleasantly so. A lot of us are feeling the financial crunch. But also almost everyone is also pissed at Providence over something. For example, nurses who have had contracts expired for over a year were told that they would not get retro pay. So like, if a contract agrees that nurses now make X more dollars an hour, people covered by that contract should get reimbursed the money that they would have been earning if the contract had been renewed on time. Denying retro pay feels like Providence penalizing the nurses for negotiating for so long.

So the strike continues! Strike fund need remains! Thank you guys for donating and reblogging. Every bit helps build a better and safer healthcare system.

The healthcare strike in Portland, Oregon is in its third week with no clear end in sight. Front-line caregivers with the Providence Healthcare System negotiating union contracts at multiple hospitals that would improve employee working conditions and protect legally-mandated nurse:patient ratios so nurses don't get assigned an unmanageable and unsafe number of patients per shift. There's been some progress with negotiations, and the governor of the state is putting pressure on both sides to end the strike soon, but Providence continues to hold out on key issues.

As a float pool nurse, every shift I go to whatever floor is understaffed. In nearly every unit I've been to, there have been patients who still be in the ICU, getting one to one care. But because we don't have enough critical care staff, we transfer This is not safe for patients or staff. And it's not just medical safety. It takes time to talk out a problem instead of calling security, or to help someone with severe mobility issues go to the bathroom, or to sit with someone crying. The kind of care that makes you feel like a person, not just a patient, takes time. The more patients I have per shift, the less time I have for each of them.

A strike is our strongest negotiating tactic. And as long as we're on strike, we're not getting paid. The longer you don't get paid, the harder it is to not cross the picket line. We're already out two paychecks so far. A lot of people cannot afford to lose that much income. As the primary income earner for our household: GOD I would love to make money again. That is what Providence is banking on. They're losing a TON of money during this strike, but they've got deeper pockets than their workers. They are betting that they can survive the strike longer than the union can.

You can support the strike by donating to the Oregon Nurses Association's hardship fund which provides money to caregivers so they don't have to scab. (I'll put a link in a reblog I'll make right after posting this.) There's also a public petition you can sign that I'll also link. And if you're in the Portland area, we've got picket lines at like nine different places at any given point. Even just awareness is helpful. Providence wants people to be angry at the striking healthcare workers, not them.

[rickybabyboy]

im on top of silly mountain

[Begin ID: "White and orange shorthair cat sitting on a cat tower with his tongue out" End ID]

[mspaint-flower]

hi all!! first of all i wanted to give huge thanks to everyone who helped me and my family, whether it be through comms or donations! it means so, so much to all of us!! secondly, unfortunately we still are in urgent need of help: my mom got a terrible job that barely gives any payment as she's still looking for better jobs, and we're still full of debts while we're also trying to sustain food for both us and the animals we rescued from terrible conditions (such as chickens). this was my first post about it if you want to check it out, i'm willing to explain our situation better if needed!

my and my brother's comms are still open and i remade my sheet with more info and examples!

you can contact me through here or discord (sleepy_nurse), any amount seriously helps!! we're so grateful for everybody who helped us out 🥹🙏

[stil-lindigo]

in a little over 2 weeks, I've made enough book sales to donate almost ~$10,000 to Palestinian causes! This means donations to:

MAP (Medical Aid for Palestinians)

PCRF (Palestinian Children's Relief Fund)

CareforGaza

ANERA

Safebow (which is currently working to evacuate over 50 Palestinians before Ramadan)

and a bunch of miscellaneous Palestinian escape funds on Gofundme.

I'm incredibly grateful and humbled by the response to my books on this website, and would just like to emphasise that my policy of donating 100% of my profits from my store(s) to Palestine is INDEFINITE. Pick up a book or print any time and know that your money is going to a good cause!

Thank you again, and free Palestine!

STORE (BUY MY BOOKS)

PRINTS

[cookingwithroxy]

Two very GLARING problems with OP's initial and absolutely batshit argument come to me very quickly.

One, that the average member of congress gets paid 174 THOUSAND dollars a year.

Second, that the 'lifestyle' (bullshit that) of the average politician counts as CAMPAIGN work, and as such is allowed to be paid for out of federal donations. In fact, most of the 'Lifestyle' elements they do are PAID CAMPAIGN STOPS. Gala dinners where everyone else is charged a thousand dollars a plate, and the money goes into a slush fund for the congresswoman's other projects? Yeah, the expense for that is paid, often pre-paid, by the money they take in!

And the reason a lot of people are massively hostile to the money politicians make is because those roles were never meant to be full time or lifetime careers. As it stands, the 'poor, unfortunate' members of congress make millions of dollars out of stock trades that would violate so many fucking laws on insider trading if they were not done by congresspeople! There's a damn good reason why people comment that getting into congress is a sure way to become a multi-millionare! It's not because you can only get there because you have money, but because BEING There is a certain way to make money, illicitly!

and jesus fuck 'people don't hate the rich' as if there hasn't been a running call for the past few months to see a man get off on terrorism charges because he was accused of shooting an insurance CEO.

That there is not some form of legal and systemic oppression of a group of people does not mean that there is no hatred OF that group. Hell, one can easily argue that because one of the comments often made about when a homeless camp gets rousted is that it was done to benefit some rich fucking CEO who wanted to use that land for some other purpose, even when that isn't what happened!

This is a semi spinoff of this post, but really its own thought.

When a job pays less than a living wage, it generally attracts one of two types of employees:

Desperate people (usually poor and/or otherwise marginalized or with barriers to employment), who will take any job, no matter how bad, because they need the money, or

Independently wealthy people (usually well-off retirees, students being supported by their families, or women with well-off husbands*), who don't care about the pay scale because they don't need the money anyway.**

And sometimes, organizations will intentionally keep a job low-paying or non-paying with the deliberate intent of narrowing their pool to that second category.

People sometimes bring this up when discussing the salaries of elected officials -- yes, most politicians are paid more than most "regular people," but they're not paid enough to sustain the expensive lifestyle politicians have to maintain, and that's on purpose. It's not an oversight, and it's not primarily about cost-cutting. It's a deliberate barrier to ensure that only rich people can run for office.

The same is true, albeit to less severe effect, of unpaid internships -- the benefit of "hiring" an unpaid intern isn't (just) that you don't have to pay them; it's also that you can ensure that all your workers are rich, or at least middle-class.

When nonprofits brag about how little of their budget goes to "overhead" and "salaries", as if those terms were synonymous with "waste," what they're really saying is "All our employees are financially comfortable enough that they don't worry about being underpaid. Our staff has no socioeconomic diversity, and probably very little ethnic or cultural diversity." ***

This isn't a secret. I'm not blowing anything wide open here. People very openly admit that they think underpaid workers are better, because they're "not in it for the money." This is frequently cited as a reason, for example, that private school teachers are "better" than public school teachers -- they're paid less, so they're not "in it for the money," so they must be working out of the goodness of their hearts. I keep seeing these cursed ads for a pet-sitting service where the petsitters aren't paid, which is a selling point, because they're "not in it for the money."

"In it for the money" is the worst thing a worker could be, of course. Heaven forbid they be so greedy and entitled and selfish as to expect their full-time labor to enable them to pay for basic living expenses. I get this all the time as a public library worker, when I point out how underfunded and underpaid we are. "But... you're not doing it for the money, right?" And I'm supposed to laugh and say "No, no, I'd do it for free, of course!"

Except, see, I have these pesky little human needs, like food. And I can't get a cart full of groceries and explain to the cashier that I don't have any money, but I have just so much job satisfaction!

And it's gendered, of course it's gendered. The subtext of "But you're not doing it for the money, of course" is "But how much pin money do you really need, little lady? Doesn't your husband give you a proper allowance?"

Conceptually, it's just an extension of the upper-class cultural norm that "polite" (rich) people "don't talk about money" (because if you have to think about how much money you have or how much you need, you're insufficiently rich).

*Gendered language very much intentional.

**Disabled people are more likely to be in the first category (most disabled people are poor, and being disabled is expensive), but are usually talked about as if they're in the second category. We're told that disabled people sorting clothing for $1.03 an hour are "So happy to be here" and "Just want to be included," and it's not like they need the money, since, as we all know, disability benefits are ample and generous [heavy sarcasm].

***Unless, of course, they're a nonprofit whose "mission" involves "job placement," in which case what they're saying is "We exploit the poor and desperate people we're purporting to help." Either way, "We pay our employees like crap" is nothing to brag about.

[gotchibam]

Hey guys, I'd like to apologize for disappearing once again. I seem to end up self-sabotaging myself everytime I try to get back into the swing of things (attempting to do the backlog of comms + doodles, opening patreon). I've been feeling lethargic for some time now & tbh I can't help but remember my mom's situation back then before she got admitted to the hospital. I don't want to go through the same thing so I'm trying my best to pick myself up—even though it's hard. I lost my dad last 2016 then my mom this year & it's just... it's a big blow for me.

I'm sorry if I keep asking for help like this... but I've stretched our budget too thin now since I haven't been able to work on anything. If anyone would like to help, my ko-fi page is open. Any kind of help or support is very much appreciated! 🙏

I'd also like to apologize to those who subscribed to my patreon. I really thought I'd be able to just start right away & draw again like I used to after announcing it here but I thought wrong. I owe you guys a doodle + a drawing session. I can't promise to do them soon but I'll try my best!

Lastly, I've also been thinking of doing an art stream as a thanks for continuing to support me even though I haven't posted art for so long ;_; Nothing fancy, just a simple stream of me drawing on a canvas (I don't have the guts to show my face or talk I'm sorry... 🙈). Tbh it sounds overwhelming but I thought it might help me gain momentum for drawing again. Idek if I'll actually be able to do it, but it's something that's been on my mind for a while now.

I'm sorry again for all this... I'm still a mess atm & so I still keep struggling. But I'm also grateful bc many of you still choose to stay & support me despite the lack of activity. Really though, thank you, thank you so much for still being here ;_; 🙏🙏🙏

[queerliblib]

not sure what you should do in the new year? feeling a bit burnt out on resolutions? fuck diets - support QLL!