#Management Liability Insurance

[riskmgmtforfunandprofit]

Risk Mgmt in the home and garden

My girlfriend and I have recently bought a house. In our city the law requires us to have an energy assessment done, to identify ways we can save money/energy by improving the home in different ways. Apparently this can include anything from replacing the windows and sealing air-leaking cracks, to replacing HVAC or installing a heat pump system. We are also, of course, arranging to have quite a bit more work done on the house, but this energy assessment has to be done within a few days of closing.

As I've been shopping for quotes for this service, I've found the prices run anywhere from $250 to $400, not including the fee to file the assessment report with the city. What surprises me is that the contractors who the City lists as qualified to do this work mostly don't have a contract or a terms and conditions form at all.

However, there is one contractor whose website does have an extensive, impressively-written Terms and Conditions document. To keep things deceptively simple, you only sign a one-page "inspection agreement" at the time of their visit. But, the agreement attempts to incorporate by reference their terms and conditions from the website.

Most of the terms and conditions are innocuous or typical of commercial contracts. However, the indemnification clause (the heart of risk transfer in any contract) made my eyes pop open:

You agree to defend, indemnify and hold [Contractor], its subsidiaries, and affiliates, and their respective officers, agents, partners and employees, harmless from and against, any loss, damage, liability, claim, or demand, including reasonable attorneys’ fees and expenses, made by any third party due to or arising out of your contributed content, use of the [Contractor] Services, and/or arising from a breach of this Agreement ... Notwithstanding the foregoing, [Contractor] reserves the right, at your expense, to assume the exclusive defense and control of any matter for which you are required to indemnify [Contractor], and you agree to cooperate, at your expense, with [Contractor]'s defense of such claims. [Contractor] will use reasonable efforts to notify you of any such claim...

What happens if the contractor's ladder tips over and falls on the neighbor's parked car? What if a contractor employee is injured inside the house? What if the contractor gets into a car accident on the way to or from our house? This indemnification clause means that the contractor, or their insurers, could pursue us for all costs associated with those mishaps. And if we don't have cash, they could take the house itself.

[fuscoinsuranceagency]

Types of Insurance Coverage Your Business Should Carry To Avoid A Potential Loss.

The specific insurance policies your business needs can vary depending on your industry, location, and other factors. However, here are some common types of insurance policies that can help cover your business from potential risks: General Liability Insurance: This policy provides coverage for bodily injury, property damage, and personal injury claims. It’s often considered essential for most…

[hislop3]

Friday Feature: Sr. Living, Health Care, and COVID Litigation

Yesterday’s post was related to the beginnings of COVID, particularly the Biden Administration’s pandemic response plan. Just as Biden entered office, his administration released the response plan and the post (yesterday) included a recording of a podcast I did on the plan, COVID vaccine rollouts, etc. Coming a bit closer to full circle, the pandemic is fundamentally over as we have entered the…

[businessinsur01]

Why Management Liability Insurance Is Important

[fuck-customers]

I work at a self-service location as the de facto low level management of a crew that includes only me.

Sometimes, this style of facility will have someone on hand to “do the thing” for customers. My facility is funded by taxpayer money and charges no fees on location. Because we are not making money, we also do not “do the thing” for anyone.

The amount of customers who have toddler-level meltdowns in the middle of my facility because I don’t sprint over to them as they arrive and beg to “do the thing” for them is unreal. I get screamed and cussed at. People call our office. I get all kinds of disgusting threats.

In the operating rules that I have to follow, I am explicitly instructed not to “do the thing” because customers will then be more likely to expect it of my less capable coworkers.

Last week a customer saw that I wasn’t “doing the thing” and told me to do my job. I told them that my job was to not do the thing they wanted me to do and that I can get fired for it. They responded that my job was to serve them and that nothing else mattered.

I told them that if they were here to “do the thing”, do it. Otherwise, get out. They refused. I called my (awesome) supervisor. They instructed me to tell the customer to leave immediately and that if they didn’t, call the cops.

Guess who had to call the cops? Yours truly.

The customer waited until they arrived and was escorted outside. I put my super on speaker with them to decide what would happen. My super decided the customer needed to be formally trespassed as they were an insurance liability and safety hazard.

Boy did they throw a fit when they found out. Now they get to drive further and pay $20 a week to have someone “do the thing” for them because they couldn’t act like a human being.

Posted by admin Rodney

[ms-demeanor]

On the topic of passwords managers, comparatively to the security of using Bitwarden, what are your thoughts about using your regular repeated pattern (maybe with some changes here and there) as passwords but adding 2FA on top of it?

2FA on top of a bad password system is better than just a bad password system, but I promise you things are so, so, so much easier if you just use a password manager to generate and store complex, unique passwords. And using 2FA on top of that is great!

Also a secure password manager is just great. It's just nice to have. I have two bank cards saved in mine, and one of my cards expired a couple months ago so I went through and updated all the accounts to my new card and as I was doing that I was able to use the notes section of the password manager to list all the services I changed that on and the date I changed it. I've got an entry for my car insurance that I also use to store my VIN and my license plate so that if I need to have that info for something like updating my address through the DMV I don't have to walk out to my car and get that info every time. It makes it super, super easy to switch between logged-in accounts on the various email services I use or to switch between the five tumblr accounts that I've got (fwiw, firefox account containers makes this even easier and I recommend using that too)

If you've got a scheme for passwords, what's your scheme for security questions? Do you have one? You should! Security questions are a liability these days, and you shouldn't answer them accurately. I answer them with gibberish and store the question and the associated gibberish in the notes of my password manager.

Do you have tasks that you have to do online occasionally that are kind of a pain in the ass and you forget how to do them? I've got stuff like that - one of them is paying my tuition. I only have to do that a couple times a year so I forget the process, so I've got a set of instructions stored in my password manager.

Plus there are other security features with a password manager like site recognition to fill in passwords. This helps to mitigate phishing if you're using it properly because the password manager won't fill on sites that don't match the domain it has stored for your password.

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Two is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Tropes : Slavery, Past Sexual Abuse, Canon-Typical Violance, Emotional Hurt Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, True Love, Foursome, F/M/M/M, Dark Magic, Eventual Smut

Summary : After a mission gone wrong, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas find themselves sealed inside a book as love slaves. Whoever discovers the book and utters the incantations within will not only become its owner but also the master of the Lin Kuei’s three deadliest assassins.

For you, grappling with the weight of a solitary life and enduring a particularly rough day, stumbling upon this mysterious book was an unforeseen twist. As you bring the book home, unaware of its contents or the events that led to its creation, the ensuing chain of events will shatter the tranquility of your world, forever altering the course of your life.

Title and work inspired by the “Elley Duhe-Middle Of The Night” song

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CHAPTER ONE : (READER)

You were enduring one of the worst days of your life.

Your alarm didn’t sound in the morning because you were too fatigued to remember to charge your phone the night before. With its poor battery life, it ran out quickly. Living forty-five minutes away from the city center, you should have caught the subway at least an hour ago to make it to work on time. Despite the pressing need for money, uncertainty loomed as you grappled with the inevitability of firing. The job, despite its dreadful conditions and an insufferable boss, stood as your best opportunity in months - too valuable to risk losing.

Although you had graduated from college with a commendable degree, the job market proved bleaker than anticipated. Your once-bright dreams faded as the harsh reality of post-graduation life set in. Most desirable positions demanded experience, yet securing experience required entry into these very positions. While a diploma opened a few doors, the conditions were often as harsh as modern-day servitude, albeit with insurance and a predictable late salary.

Your current role as a programmer at a gaming company offered no respite. Long hours in front of the screen left your eyes bloodshot, encircled by dark rings, and your neck perpetually aching. Despite the hardships, a promise to your distant family fueled your determination to stand on your own. Abandoning everything and returning home was not an option after coming this far. You had shed too many tears to surrender now, enduring the suffocating loneliness of solitary dinners in your cramped kitchen as you pursued your dreams.

Thus, with a reminder of your purpose, you hurriedly left your apartment. Despite the packed subway and the frenzied rush, you managed to trim your commute from fifteen minutes to a mere seven and a half. Yet, upon arrival, your efforts were futile. Summoned to your boss’s office, you were promptly instructed to collect your belongings and leave the company, denied even the opportunity to provide an explanation.

You were keenly aware of the disdain your boss and coworkers held for you; it was an open secret. They resembled vultures, poised to oust you at any moment. As the lone rookie, you were perceived as nothing more than a liability. Despite your efforts to avoid seeking their assistance by tackling most tasks independently, being in your first year of the profession meant there were occasions when you needed guidance or support. Yet, camaraderie was a foreign concept in this office. Compared to other workplaces, the only semblance of unity stemmed from shared breaks and lunches.

A part of you felt relief at the prospect of bidding farewell to a workplace where you found no joy. However, the dominant part, fueled by anxiety, fretted over how you would cover rent and expenses. Although you had a modest emergency fund tucked away, it would only sustain you for about a month. Urgency gnawed at you as you roamed the streets with a cardboard box containing your few office belongings, scouring for job advertisements. Picky was a luxury you couldn’t afford; you were prepared to take on any role, even as a barista or waitress, until you secured a position closer to your aspirations. Survival necessitated prioritizing money above all else.

As the day wore on, you lost track of time. With the setting sun casting a dim glow and street lamps flickering to life, tiny raindrops began to graze your cheeks and nose, soon escalating into a downpour. Despite the onslaught, you mustered the strength to suppress the curses threatening to spill forth. Rushing back to the subway, you braved the rain without an umbrella or proper clothes, mindful of the looming threat of illness. With no funds to spare for hospital bills or medication, resuming your job hunt from the shelter of your laptop seemed the safer option.

Arriving at the subway, drenched from head to toe, you collapsed onto the nearest available seat, your legs barely able to support you. With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day’s exhaustion bearing down on your body. The simple act of sitting down was a luxury, a stark reminder of just how fatigued and stressed you had become over the course of the day. You rubbed your weary legs in an attempt to generate some warmth, soothing the cramps and chasing away the chill brought on by the rain.

As the subway doors slid open with a ding, a wave of commuters flooded in, filling the once-empty seats around you. Seizing the opportunity to rest your eyes until reaching home, you leaned back against the seat with the cardboard box resting on your lap. Tired, cold, and hungry, the numbing effect of the rain provided a brief respite from the stress, deserving of a well-earned nap.

When the ache in your neck became unbearable, you reluctantly opened your eyes, realizing that your stop was approaching. Glancing down, you noticed a book lying on the seat beside you, as your grip on the box was dangerously close to slipping from your grasp. Picking it up, you scanned the faces around you, expecting someone to claim the book or acknowledge its presence, but no one seemed to react. Confirmation dawned upon you, the book had been left behind, seemingly forgotten by its owner.

Although the book appeared hefty, its weathered cover hinted at years of use and handling. Despite its age, it felt surprisingly light in your hands, its once vibrant hues faded to muted tones. Adorned with a pale gold cover devoid of any text on the back, the book bore the scars of countless readings and journeys. Turning the book over to avoid catching your tired reflection on its worn and shiny surface, your lips parted in mild surprise. Three striking male figures graced the cover, their details rendered with such realism that they almost seemed tangible, despite the signs of wear and tear. Your finger traced over the hyper-realistic features with impulsive curiosity, only to retract abruptly as if scalded, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

As a sweet ache pulsed between your thighs, you found yourself unexpectedly aroused by a mere image, prompting you to shift uncomfortably in an attempt to quell the throbbing sensation. It had been quite a while since you last shared intimate moments with someone, but even that didn’t entirely account for the sudden surge of desire sparked by a simple picture. Stirring memories long buried within you, igniting a hunger you hadn't realized existed until now.

A blush warmed your cheeks as you examined the figures once more. The trio bore the semblance of warriors or assassins, albeit clad in scant attire. The man on the left possessed a sun-kissed tan, his muscular frame adorned with a large scorpion tattoo on his left arm. His black hair was artfully swept across his face, his golden mask veiling a stern gaze as he brandished a flaming kunai, its rope end poised for action.

Your attention shifted to the figure at the center, whose face remained partially obscured by a silvery black mask. Despite the concealment, a strange sense of familiarity emanated from his features, mirroring those of his companion. His complexion was pale, revealing blue-green veins beneath the surface, while his dark eyes emanated cold, dominating arrogance. Black hair, tied in a low bun with a few tufts escaping to frame his strong features. Massive biceps framed his imposing stature as he wielded a sword of ice, poised to strike with lethal precision.

In stark contrast, the figure on the right differed greatly from his counterparts. Towering slightly above them, he bore little resemblance to an Asian individual, exuding a distinctly European air. His skin was also light, and he wore a grey-colored mask covering half of his face. A thin, light grey smoke emanated from his body. His short gray hair and softer gray-blue eyes lent him a gentler appearance, juxtaposed by the lethal aura exuded by the carambite adorning his finger. Despite his softer features, his lethal prowess was undeniable.

As you scrutinized the cover, a perplexing question lingered: why would the illustrator depict warriors in such a manner if not for a romantic context? Their barely dressed and provocative poses hinted at a fantasy narrative, reinforced only by the presence of their weapons. Without them, the figures might have appeared more akin to love slaves than skilled warriors. “An intriguing choice,” you murmured to yourself, pondering the illustrator’s intentions behind such a depiction.

As you opened the book to look at the chipped pages, curiosity piqued about the contents within, you suddenly realized that your stop had arrived. Hastily tucking the book into your box, you sprang to your feet with a muttered exclamation.

“Oh, shoot!” With a swift maneuver, you barely managed to slip through the closing doors of the crowded subway. Amidst the post-work rush, the mingled scents of sweat and cigarettes engulfed you as you navigated through the throng. Minutes later, emerging from the subway, you drew a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of rain-soaked earth.

Your journey to home passed in a blur, your body moving on autopilot along familiar streets and corners. Before you knew it, you stood before your fifth-floor apartment, a small abode consisting of two rooms and an American kitchen. Its most prized feature was the balcony, a sanctuary where you relished summer evenings, savoring the view with a glass of wine by candlelight.

When you arrived home, it was already nine o’clock in the evening. Leaving the box in your hand at the entrance of the door, you went straight into the shower to wash away the fatigue and grime of the day, and to replenish the warmth your drenched body had lost. You lingered under the hot water until it thoroughly enveloped your body, and finally, when the steam filled the small bathroom and you felt like you might faint from the heat, you emerged, clad in your well-worn and hardened bathrobe, with a towel wrapped around your head.

Pouring the last remnants of the red wine you opened days ago into a glass, you placed it in the microwave to heat up the leftover Chinese food you ordered a day ago. As you waited for your meal to warm, your gaze wandered to the box in the corner, reigniting your curiosity about the mysterious book. Crossing the room in a few strides, you retrieved the book and placed it on the kitchen island, settling into your chair with wine and warmed food. “I’ll worry about unemployment later,” you declared, raising your glass in a toast. “Today was stressful enough, and I definitely deserve this wine.” With a sip of wine and a mouthful of noodles, you flipped open the book’s cover with your free hand, eager to have a look at what it held.

‘’What…?” You stared at the glossy golden pages, brows furrowed in confusion, surprised to find them empty. “What kind of book is this? I don’t understand the purpose.” you muttered in disbelief. The worn-out appearance of the book added to your confusion, making you question whether something had happened before it was finished.

As you reached the middle of the book, a shocking revelation left you speechless. Lines, equivalent to about a paragraph, materialized on the previously blank pages before your eyes, causing your entire body to freeze in shock. Tremors coursed through you, as if jolted by electricity, and you grasped desperately for reality, unsure if what you were witnessing was a dream. Gasping for breath, you struggled to comprehend the surreal sight before you.

“I haven’t even had that much wine—I just took a sip.” you mumbled, your voice strained with the effort to contain your rising panic. “I’ve seen enough movies to know where this is going. I’m not reading whatever’s written here,” you declared, the thin timbre of your voice betraying your attempt to stifle a scream.

You closed the cover of the book hard and attempted to get up from your chair, but found yourself unable to move. It was as if an unseen force held you in place. The cover of the book opened again, and as the pages flickered before your eyes, the one you had just turned to was laid out in front of you once more, sending shivers of fear down your spine.

“Read it,” a demanding male voice echoed in your mind, freezing you in terror. Despite your frantic desire to flee, you remained immobilized, unable to move a muscle.

“I-I was just curious about what it says. I didn’t mean any harm,” you pleaded weakly, few tears streaming down your cheeks due to the immense fear you felt at the moment. Another voice, speaking in a foreign tongue filled the air, his tone scolding but directed elsewhere, not at you.

“We won’t harm you, master,” another voice reassured, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the fear.

“Say the words aloud, and we will serve you,” urged yet another voice, prompting a realization of the three distinct voices corresponding to the figures depicted on the book’s cover.

“W-What the…! Are they…”

“Yes, that’s us you see on the cover. We’ve been trapped in this book for a long time. You have to say the words to get us out of here,” one of the voices explained.

“You’re talking as if I had a choice,” you replied in a timid, low voice.

“Read the words, woman,” another voice commanded. It was the coldest and harshest of them all. Despite lacking a physical form, his dominant aura was unmistakable in the way he emphasized his words. His voice resonated with a deep, chilling tone, unlike anything you had ever heard before. You attempted to steady yourself, swallowing hard and clenching your trembling hands into fists on your legs.

“How do I know you won’t hurt me? Each of you had a weapon on the cover; it’s clear you’re some kind of warriors.”

“We are bound to the master of the book,” another voice interjected, his tone notably more welcoming and kind than the others. “We cannot harm you.”

“God, I must be losing my mind. I’m talking to a book,” you muttered, glancing at the pages with audible trepidation. Fear and panic constricted your throat, rendering you speechless.

“This is no illusion—it is the truth,” the same younger voice asserted after a brief silence. “Read what is written, master, and we shall pledge our service to you.”

“I-I’m not anyone’s master. Don’t call me that; this situation is already too surreal for me,” you protested weakly.

“As you wish, master,” came the compliant response.

“You won’t hurt me, will you? I’m too young to die; I haven’t even begun to fulfill my dreams…” you pleaded, your words abruptly cut off by a snarl. If not for the invisible force holding you down, you might have leaped in fear.

“Read these damn sentences!” the voice commanded, his tone harsh.

“Bi-Han, don’t frighten her!” another voice intervened.

“Fine, fine, I’ll read it!” Tears continued to trickle down your cheeks as you began to recite the words aloud, hoping to end the ordeal. And as you prayed to the god or whatever deity might be watching over you, you couldn’t shake the dread that you might be leading yourself to your own demise. “Rise, my servants, from the depths of slumber and bind yourselves to me with your souls, revealing your names. Embrace your new purpose ensnared by passion.’’

As you finished speaking, a powerful gust of wind whipped through the room, causing the towel around your shoulders to unravel and fall. Soon after, you heard the voices of three men speaking in unison, their words echoing loudly.

‘’We rise, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas of the Lin Kuei, bound to your will, for in your presence, we find solace and purpose. We protect and we please, however you see right, however you seem fit. We’re your slaves, and you’re our master, surrendered to your every command, body and soul.’’

With a surge of energy, the wind intensified, knocking over the glass on the counter, spilling wine onto the robe and floor. The glass shattered at your feet, scattering shards across the kitchen. A brilliant light emanated from the book, forcing you to shut your eyes against its intensity.

Then, as suddenly as it began, everything fell silent and still. The wind vanished as if it had never been, and the light that had filled the room dimmed into darkness. Summoning the courage to open your eyes, you were met with the sight of three imposing, completely naked men standing a short distance away.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” You attempted to gather your thoughts, tearing your gaze away from the men to focus on the scattered glass on the kitchen floor. “There are three naked men in my living room. And—and they emerged from the book? I must be losing my mind. I really must be losing my mind.”

As the words tumbled from your lips, sounding like utter madness to your own ears, you tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself. But when you attempted to rise from your seat, your numbed feet betrayed you, causing you to stumble and fall to the ground. The impact sent a jolt of pain through your knees and feet as shards of glass embedded themselves into your flesh, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Shh, it’s okay. Calm down, you’re only hurting yourself,” came a gentle voice.

Your gaze was drawn to a towering, bronzed figure looming over you, his powerful physique making you feel small and vulnerable. Sensing your escalating panic, he gently cupped your face in his large hands, the touch of his calloused fingers both rough and tender. With each contact, warmth spread through your body in soothing waves.

“Look at me. Take deep breaths and exhale, just like I do,” he instructed in a soothing tone.

“I can’t,” your voice broken with fear.

“Of course you can. Follow my lead, I’ll show you,” he reassured. As you turned your gaze to his face, you were met with a pair of slanted light brown eyes, framed by long black eyelashes. His gaze exuded warmth and understanding, matching the sensitivity of his touch. “Breathe with me. Now.”

As your brain somehow focused on his instructions, you found yourself synchronizing your breaths with the mighty man before you. With each inhale and exhale, you felt a wave of calm wash over you, dissipating the last shreds of your strength. He effortlessly supported you, preventing you from collapsing to the floor, his touch gentle yet firm. Despite the pain throbbing in your flesh and the warmth of blood trickling down your skin, you remained in a state of confusion and fear, unable to muster the will to move from his grasp.

“Tomas, find something to clean the wound,” commanded the one with the authoritative voice, resonating with incredible depth. The man who held you gently lowered himself onto one of the double seats in the living room, maintaining his firm grasp on you. A faint warmth spread across your face, but you remained ensnared in his hold, feeling as if your mouth were filled with dry cotton.

Your gaze shifted to the man cradling you, his expression clouded with concern as his amber eyes scrutinized you closely as if he feared you might suffer another attack. Despite his gray hair, you were taken aback when a youthful visage suddenly filled your vision. The man was tall and imposing, his large build casting a formidable shadow over you. Feeling intimidated between these two towering figures, a timid whimper escaped your lips as your body instinctively recoiled, yearning to escape despite its weakened state.

“Calm down, master. We won’t hurt you. Let me tend to your wounds; you’ve cut your knees and feet badly. I can ease your pain,” reassured the silver-haired man, his voice carrying a surprisingly gentle tone given his imposing stature. As you swallowed and tried to shift again, a cold sound from across the room froze you in place.

“If you move again, I’ll—” began the menacing voice.

“Bi-Han, enough! She’s already frightened, no need to add to it.” Intervened the man holding you, his voice commanding authority. Though Bi-Han’s threat remained unfinished, its effect lingered, rendering you motionless, afraid to even breathe. As the silver-haired man tended to your wounds while taking advantage of your stillness, the man holding you attempted to comfort you with gentle pats, drawing soothing circles on your back.

Gritting your teeth against the pain as the glass shards were removed, you fought the urge to appear weak and helpless in their eyes. Though you couldn’t see yourself from their perspective, a sense of self-consciousness gnawed at you. In an attempt to shift your focus from the pain, the man holding you soflty interjected, “I am Kuai Liang,” he introduced. “May we know your name?

Struggling to articulate your name through clenched teeth, you managed to utter it in one breath. A faint smile graced Kuai Liang’s face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n).”

“Speak for yourself,” growled Bi-Han from across the living room. “Just another fucking master we’re bound to serve.’’

‘‘I thought you wanted to get out of the book.’’

Kuai Liang’s sharp retort silenced Bi-Han, prompting Tomas, who was tending to your wounds, to interject. “And so am I, Tomas. Thank you for calling us into your service.” he said with a small smile that seemed forced, his dull greyish blue eyes lacking genuine emotion. As he carefully tended to your wounds and wrapped them in bandages, a sense of unease washed over you, causing you to squirm away from Kuai Liang’s grasp and retreat to the corner of the seat, eyeing the three men with a mix of confusion and discomfort.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” you croaked, avoiding their look as your gaze involuntarily dropped to their lower parts for a second before you could prevent it, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “And please cover up your bottoms. You can use the cushions.”

Complying with your request, all three men concealed their private parts with cushions. Tomas took a seat in the opposite double seat, while Bi-Han settled into the single seat. Despite your small apartment being already cramped, the presence of the three burly men made the space feel even more claustrophobic.

“Where would you like us to start?”

“From the beginning,” you replied, addressing Kuai Liang. “Who are you? How did you end up in that book? And why are you here now… Please, tell me everything from the beginning so that I can understand.”

“We are members of a clan called Lin Kuei, known for training assassins, and we are brothers,” he began. “Bi-Han is the eldest, serving as the grandmaster of our clan in the past. I, on the other hand, am the middle one, and Tomas and I served as his second-in-commands.’’

The revelation that they were assassins drained the color from your face, confirming your suspicions from the book cover. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized the chilling reality of being in the presence of trained killers.

“Many years ago, we encountered a demon named Quan Chi on a mission. As you can imagine, the mission went awry, and he sealed us inside this book. Whoever owns the book and says the words becomes our master, and we are compelled to fulfill their wishes and desires.”

Even if you sensed that the information was being presented with some omissions, you refrained from voicing your suspicions. They were strangers to you, and you to them, so expecting complete transparency without trust seemed unreasonable. While you had the authority as their master to demand the truth, approaching the situation in this manner didn’t sit well with you—it didn’t feel right, nor did it feel humane.

For God’s sake, the idea of being anyone’s master was abhorrent. The twenty-first century had arrived, and the notion of a master-slave relationship had long since vanished. It felt nauseating and profoundly unsettling.

“I am not your master. I can’t—I can’t be. No.” You attempted to stand up in panic, desperate to escape the situation, but your injuries held you back. Kuai Liang gently grabbed your arm, urging you to calm down.

“Calm down (y/n), your wounds are very fresh. You’ll make them bleed again.” You clung to his wrist, pleading with your eyes for assistance.

“Is there no way to set you free? I can’t accept this. This is—this is against humanity!”

With your words, a deep silence enveloped the room. As you observed their stunned reactions, it became evident that this sentiment was new to them. Your heart ached at the thought of witnessing these powerful men stripped of their freedom. Despite your fear, the realization knotted your stomach. They appeared intimidating and deadly, yet the severity of their situation suggested that past experiences had shattered them and stripped away their dignity. You couldn’t fathom how long they had endured as slaves within the confines of the book, but the outcome seemed all too predictable, casting a somber shadow over the room.

“Set us free?” Tomas’s voice echoed with longing, his desire palpable.

“Such a thing is possible, isn’t it? If you tell me what I should do I—”

“Why would you do that? What do you want from us in return?” Bi-Han’s voice sliced through your words, sharp and menacing. You fought to maintain your composure, avoiding freezing in your spot as his icy demeanor chilled the room. As your agitated gaze shifted to his pale, muscular arms, you were astonished to see a thin layer of ice extending from his hands. Were they truly made of ice?

“As I said just now, I can’t be anyone’s master, it’s in defiance of human ethics. If there’s any way I can help you, I’d like to do it. I don’t want anything in return except for this situation to end as soon as possible, I’m sure you want the same.”

“Do you expect us to believe that you are just a fairy godmother?” Bi-Han’s mocking half smile sent waves of unease through you. “You are not convincing at all, woman. Favors are done with an expectation of something in return.’’

“Favors are done for nothing; you don’t expect anything in return. That’s why it’s called a favor.” Emboldened by a hint of defiance, you met Bi-Han’s stern gaze head-on. “I can understand why you don’t trust me after what you’ve been through—”

‘’Don’t you dare,” Bi-Han shot up from his seat, his movement swift as a shadow. Suddenly, he was close enough for his breath, cold as winter air, to brush against your face. “Don’t try to empathize with what we went through. Do you think you know us now just because you’ve learned a few things?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” you said quickly.

“Brother, please sit down. If you talk like that, we won’t get anywhere.” Kuai Liang intervened, putting one arm between you and Bi-Han. Bi-Han glared at you intensely, his eyes slanted like those of a predator, then he took a deep breath. Watching the mist of his cold breath in the air, everything still felt like an endless dream—or nightmare. When he finally returned to his seat, Kuai Liang’s gaze turned to you.

“Thank you for offering to help, but unfortunately, we don’t know how to undo this dark magic.”

You ventured a suggestion that you hoped wouldn’t sound foolish. “We could try burning the book. I’ve seen it work in some movies.”

“We’ve tried that,” Tomas chimed in, joining Kuai Liang. “Several times. Whatever we’ve done, the book has never been destroyed. It’s protected by some kind of magic, just as it protects its master from us.”

“You spoke as if you had tested the last part before.”

In response, silence enveloped the room. Despite your efforts to stave off panic, the realization that they were assassins and the precariousness of your situation made you feel threatened.

“We have tried to kill several masters before,” Kuai Liang admitted frankly. “But there’s some kind of seal that protects them—you can think of it as a shield. It renders any attack ineffective. That’s why we were telling the truth when we said we wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Of course, if things were different, it wouldn’t mean you wouldn’t try,” you said, averting your gaze and clasping your hands in your lap. Another solution came to mind, prompting you to straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath before continuing.

‘’ If I can’t set you free, then you’re free to do as you please, go where you want. You don’t have to be stuck here.” you offered.

“You won’t give us orders? Isn’t there something you want us to do?” Tomas asked, surprised.

“No, as long as you don’t start killing people, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“We’re not mindless killers,” said Bi-Han harshly, sounding offended that you would even think of them in that way. Kuai Liang interjected, softening his brother’s tone.

“We serve a noble purpose. We were, until we were sealed in the book… Our clan has been dedicated to protecting Earthrealm from dangers for centuries,” he explained, his gaze softening slightly as he made eye contact with you. “Thank you for the opportunity you’ve given us, but we can’t be away from you for more than a few hours. We have to get back here, to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How so? Why? Do I have to say something else?”

“No, it’s part of the magic. It was designed to prevent us from escaping. When we’re away from our master—you, and this period becomes longer, we become weaker and weaker.”

“So at the end of the day… God, what cruel magic this is,” Gulping, you scanned all three men with a heavy heart. It must have been torture for them to endure this existence. Even as you spoke, your heart ached with empathy, imagining what they had been subjected to. Anger and sadness gripped your body as you contemplated their plight. “Is there anything else I can do for you? My house isn’t too big, but I want you to be comfortable during your stay here.”

It was Bi-Han who responded, his narrowed gaze resembling two thin lines, as if he were dissecting your sincerity. You couldn’t help but feel a pang as you tried to discern whether he believed you. While you understood his skepticism, winning their trust seemed like a daunting task.

“You can start by finding us clothes.”

[schrijverr]

Please, I Got a Family at Home

Divergence from chapter 7, where instead of not getting to finish, Buck gets to tell Bobby he has a family that relies on him and his income.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (percieved one sided)

Warnings: referenced addiction

~~~

Bobby is angry. Angry at himself, because he didn’t put his foot down soon enough and angry at Buck, because Bobby is trying to help him, mentor him, but he’s acting out and now he’s pushed too far.

He doesn’t like it, but he can’t keep being kind. First it was the fire engine, then refusing the teen mom entrance to the ambulance and now it’s the fire engine again. Clearly, Buck doesn’t do well with a kind hand, clearly he doesn’t take this seriously enough. Bobby can’t have a liability like that on his team, can’t keep covering for Buck, not when he still has so much to make up for.

“You’re fired,” he tells him, watching how Buck’s face drops.

“What?” he chokes out with a high voice. Shock and disbelief, as if he never considered such a thing could happen to him. “Wait, that’s not fair. You said I got three strikes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bobby says, because it shouldn’t. Buck didn’t officially get three strikes, but there are three strikes against him and he clearly didn’t learn. His decision on this is final. Even if Buck looks a little like a kicked puppy. “You’ve made this choice yourself, and you rubbed it in my face. The same exact infraction two days after I wrote you up. You’re out of line and you’re not taking this job seriously. So you’re out.”

With those final words, Bobby starts to walk away. Buck is an adult, he can figure out that he needs to sort himself out and bring the fire engine back.

Before he can get very far, Buck has tucked his dick back in and has caught up with him. He looks to be near tears as he pleads: “Wait, Bobby! Bobby, I- I need this job. Please, don’t do this to me. I have people that rely on me and my income, I need this job. At least until the end of my probie year.”

God, he looks absolutely devastated and it takes everything in Bobby to not give him another free pass, but to stay firm on his decision. He needs to keep his resolve. Besides, what or who could he possibly be funding?

So, he shakes his head firmly: “No, I don’t care that you can’t fund your little frat house parties anymore, you can find another job. You can disrespect yourself like this, but but you are done disrespecting our firehouse and this fire department.”

“That’s not what I’m funding,” Buck frowns, he looks hurt, though resigned. Bobby is just wonder what that is about when Buck suddenly drops a bombshell. “Please, I got a family at home.”

“What?”

“I got a family at home,” Buck repeats, sounding almost surprised that Bobby isn’t cutting him off, but letting him explain. “Chris, our kid, he has CP, he needs this insurance. And Eddie is recovering from an injury he got in the service, I need to support him until he can get back on his feet and find a job.”

The only reason he lets Buck talk, is because he’s too shocked by and still processing the new information he has just received. Buck isn’t some frat boy funding his parties, he’s a father and a husband. Suddenly the flashes of inexplicable maturity make more sense to Bobby, however, that goes hand in hand with a revulsion at what he caught Buck doing. He thought this was a good kid, a bit lost, maybe, but with his heart in the right place.

“You telling me you’re not just fucking some girl on the job, but cheating on your husband isn’t making your case better, Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby manages to spit out.

Realization dawns on Buck face and he flails his hands around as he trips over himself to assure Bobby: “That’s not what this is, I swear. It’s not like that. We’re-” he cuts himself off, suddenly looking heartbroken, “We’re gonna divorce soon.”

That sends Bobby reeling once more, Buck has gone from single frat boy, to father and husband, to cheater, to divorcee in the making in a minute and Bobby needs a second. He holds up a hand, as he says: “Wait. Just wait. Gimme a moment.” Buck diligently does, anxiously awaiting his next word. “Chris and Eddie, start there.”

“Uh, yeah, so Eddie’s my husband, technically, and I adopted Chris last year,” Buck says. “Eddie is Chris’s actual dad, you know, biologically. Shannon, Chris’s mom walked out on… us, I suppose, two years ago. God, has it been two years? Yeah, two years, Chris was four. He’s six now.”

A six year old. Fuck, that’s three years younger than Brooke had been when she died. And Chris has already had one parent walk out and now his parents are getting divorced. Bobby can’t imagine doing that to a kid, let alone your own. “And you two can’t work it out?”

Again Buck gets that surprised look on his face and Bobby wants to strangle him a little, because why are you surprised at the notion of trying to work it out with your husband? That should be the first thing you’re trying.

“Oh, no. No. It’s- uhm, it’s not like that. We were never together. We’ve always had an open marriage, since it wasn’t romantic, but I don’t know if you know that term,” Buck says, with a tone that implies he is explaining something, but like Buck guessed, he doesn’t know the term.

“An open marriage?”

“Yeah, that sleeping or dating other people is fine,” Buck explains. “It depends on what you communicate about, but me and Eddie always said we’d find other people. It’s a marriage of convenience, not-” he swallows, “not love. We knew we were gonna get divorced the day we got married.”

This whole this is only getting more confusing. Bobby rubs his brow and says: “Wait, explain that to me again.”

“We got married for Chris. I’ve been in his life since he was three, only met Eddie a year later when Shannon left. I babysat, kinda turned into a co-parent to fill the gaps when she fell away. But then Chris needed two surgeries and bills piled up, so Eddie had to re-enlist, but he didn’t want to his parents to take them – they’re kind of horrible sometimes – so instead we got married, so I could watch Chris while he was away and divorce when he got back.”

“So you’re now in the process of getting divorced?” Bobby asks, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. At least the mom walking out on a kid backstory explains his behavior at the call with the baby in the pipe.

“Oh, no, not yet,” Buck shakes his head, complicating it further. “Eddie got hurt on his tour, so Chris still needed insurance and he needed time to recover, so we switched Chris over to my insurance and I am providing financially right now until Eddie can go look for a job of his own again.”

“But it’s okay to sleep with people, because you have an open marriage,” Bobby says to check if he got it all correct.

“Yeah,” Buck nods enthusiastically. “You got it.”

That- That still is a lot. Firing Buck for being an irresponsible kid without a care of consequences is one thing, firing a man who has a kid, who needs medical attention, and husband, who can’t work right now, both of which are dependent on him, is a whole other story.

Still, one thing bugs him about the whole thing. Buck has proven, he is capable of stepping up. He’s seemingly raised Chris by himself for a good while when Eddie was on his tour and Bobby knows he can be mature when it counts. He obviously cares about these people and what happens to them with how devastated he looked at the news of his firing. So why do it?

“Why do it?”

“What?”

“If you have a family to provide for, people that rely on you, what are you sleeping with girls on the job for? You say you have an open marriage, then you don’t have to sneak around in your free time, right? Or am I still misunderstanding the situation?”

Buck gets a resigned look on his face, remembering what had caused him to explain his whole situation in the first place. He drops on the seat Bobby had caught him only a little while earlier and rubs his face as he sighs.

There is a moment of silence, then he says: “Because I’m helplessly in love with Eddie and he’s never going to love me back, because he’s straight and soon he’ll divorce me and find someone he does love and I have to stand there and watch as the family I’ve loved and fought for these last few years is ripped away from me and I get replaced.”

And that is a lot. Even more than Bobby was anticipating after the first few wild cards had been put on the table. He has no clue what to say to that.

Buck doesn’t seem to mind his silence as he continues: “So, I’ve been pathetically clinging to the time I do still have with them off the clock and trying to cope on the side. Which I do with sex. I, uh- I don’t have the healthiest relationship with sex. Might even be an addiction at this point.”

Bobby might know nothing about how to handle anything about this whole situation, but he does know addiction. He sits down next to Buck, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he tries not to think too hard about the fact that Buck was fucking the snake lady on that very same seat moments ago.

“Hm?” Buck makes a confused little noise as he looks up at Bobby, appear surprised at the show of support, but also so desperate and hopeless.

“You did a good thing, admitting that. But you have to quit if you want to keep your life together. It’s not healthy, Buck. I’m not going to let you throw your life away like that.”

“A little too late, huh,” Buck laughs humorlessly. “I already got myself fired.” He looks over the city with dead eyes. “God, Eddie’s gonna hate me. I don’t know how I’m going to explain to him that I lost our son his insurance and our family its income.”

“You’re not fired yet,” Bobby says determinedly. “No one knows I said that, it’s not on the record.”

“Are you for real?” Buck asks, dull eyes lit up by a little sparkle. Hope.

“Yes, I am for real,” Bobby uses Buck’s words clumsily. “Can your family handle a week suspension with no pay?”

Buck’s expression gets a little tight and his voice sounds a little strained, but it’s still mixed with an utter and complete gratitude. “Yeah, yes. Yes. Uh, we can definitely swing that.” Then as if to assure Bobby he’s not lying, he adds: “I do the budget.”

Bobby can guess that Buck still dreads having to explain to Eddie why he’s home for the week, but he can’t not act. He’s already been way too soft on Buck, it feels unfair to let this slide too. If he wants to remain credible as Captain he needs to give Buck some sort of punishment.

So, he says: “Then I’m not firing you, just suspending you. For one week. Go home, get your head on straight, figure yourself out. You can’t keep going like this, you need to find a better outlet. Go to a meeting, if you think it’ll help. I can recommend you some, if you’d like.”

“Thanks. Truly, thank you, Bobby, this- this means the world to me. Not just me,” Buck says, gripping Bobby’s hand in a sort pseudo-handshake-prayer-thing.

Bobby places his hand on top of Buck’s in what he hopes is a comforting manner. “Of course. I’m here for you, if you want to talk.” Then he clears his throat. “Now, let’s return the equipment to the firehouse so it’ll be there when there’s an emergency.”

Buck becomes a little pink at the reminder of what Bobby caught him doing and he clears his throat too, letting go of Bobby as he says: “Uh, yeah, let’s- let’s go do that.”

They arrive back at the firehouse together and Bobby leaves Buck next to the engine with a clap of the back, before going to his office. He’ll start on the paperwork now and leave this mess behind him. Plus, if he is honest with himself, he doesn’t want to see Buck’s pinched face as he packs his stuff up. It’s not permanent and Bobby knows he made the right choice. He won’t soften his stance again, he’s done that enough already.

He never gets to finish the paperwork, because they’re interrupted by the alarm ringing. He finds Buck in the locker room with Hen, he gives him a pointed look, before he can get any ideas. “Go home, Buck.”

“Yes, Cap,” Buck says, a little resigned and maybe a little resentful, however, he doesn’t move to get up or follow.

Bobby doesn’t let it get to him. Being out on the emergency serves the same purpose as doing the paperwork would have; not seeing Buck leave with that defeated slump in his shoulders.

Though, it’s a little harder to dodge the questions of the others on the call than in his office, but he avoids them nonetheless. It’s not his business to share. It’s clear Buck hasn’t wanted to, him never mentioning any of this since he started says that much.

Still, despite telling himself he’s made the right call with suspending Buck, he can’t deny that he’s a little relieved when Hen tells him about the second chance she gave him. Buck has enough trouble at home, Bobby didn’t want to add stress to it, but he had to do something.

When they get back to the firehouse, Buck isn’t there yet, so they all wait for him to return. He gets out of the engine and immediately says: “I know what this looks like and I know you told me to go home, but I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

“I know, Buck,” Bobby assures him with a smile.

“You do?” Buck asks surprised.

“Hen already filled me in,” he says nodding to Hen, who gives a quick wave. “And Sargent Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are. Told her she was half right.” He lets him sweat for a second, then breaks character: “You did good, kid.”

A relieved smile breaks out on Buck’s face, he probably couldn’t stomach the thought of more punishment.

“In fact, you made up for the stunt you pulled earlier today. Go get changed into your uniform again, you’re back on the shift,” Bobby says, quite pleased with himself.

“Really?” Buck practically sparkles. “Thank you so much, I won’t forget this,” he calls out, skipping back to the locker room.

“Are you sure that’s the right call, Cap?” Chimney asks as they watch Buck go.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Bobby answers. “The fear of what could have happened was enough of a wake up call for him. He won’t do it again.”

“If you’re sure,” Chimney shrugs, willing to trust Bobby’s judgment. “Come on, Hen. Let’s see if there are left overs.”

“You’re hungry after that call?” Hen asks as she starts to follow Chim. “That guy’s leg looked like minced meat. Don’t we only have shepherds pie?”

“I can compartmentalize,” Chimney retorts as their voices disappear up the steps.

Bobby waits until Buck comes out of the locker room again, once more in uniform. Buck spots him and joins him, softly saying: “I am really thankful for what you did today. I meant it when I said I won’t forget it. If you ever need anything – and I mean, anything – I’m here. I’ll show up with a shovel, no questions asked.”

“Thank you, Buck,” Bobby says with amusement. “Just take the time to be with your family when we’re done with this shift. Remember what almost happened today. Eddie doesn’t have to know, but promise me you’ll remember?”

“I promise,” Buck says immediately. He shudders: “I don’t think I’m capable of forgetting that moment. I never want to let Chris down like that.”

“Good,” Bobby nods. He knew he made the right call. However, there is no use in lingering in the moment longer, so he asks: “Want to help me get started on dinner? I’m pretty sure we’re eating something vegetarian.”

“Oh, gnarly accident?” Buck asks as he joins Bobby as they follow the same path Chimney and Hen took a minute earlier.

Bobby nods and Buck starts rambling about how he’s got a pretty iron stomach, but he’s been cooking with less meat more often recently, before speculating why brains do that.

If he’s honest, Bobby only half listens, but it’s comforting anyway. He still has so much to make up for, so much to make right. However, he doesn’t feel like Buck is jeopardizing that mission anymore, he’s not angry with him anymore either. He made a difference in Buck’s life today. That’s what he’s meant to do. It’s not a name off the list, but it’s a good deed to put on his slate to make it ever slightly more clean.

~~

A/N:

Poor Bobby trying to follow the whole mess of a relationship Buck has gotten himself caught up in lmao, he’s trying so hard xp

Also wouldn’t it be hilarious if he does end up hiring Eddie in this universe, not realizing who it is and then he finds out and goes to Buck like “uhh, are you ok working with ur ex?” and then has to have a crisis as Buck replies: “oh, he’s not my ex.” like I think that will be the final straw for him lol

[kopfkino-o]

okay modern acotar au but the setting is a shitty local bar and I might or might not have been tipsy when I wrote this.

Rhys inherited this crusty bar from his business tycoon father and, despite being utterly incapable of maintaining a well respectable establishment, he lowkey loves being able to boss the staff around and enjoys the all the “free” booze whenever he wants. No he does not file taxes. But he has given his wife, Feyre, creative reign over the place and she painted the walls herself, which was definitely a choice, but the patrons don’t really seem to mind the various eyeballs staring down at them so it sort of works for the place.

Cassian works security with Jurian but most nights he is the one who ends up starting something and it lowkey causes a lot of insurance liabilities but Rhys isn't really worried about all that. Cas also can’t stop sniffing after veteran bartender, Nesta, who will definitely throw your ass out if you so much as look at her wrong. The tension between them is causing a lot of “bad vibes” for the bar’s regulars, Lucien and Eris, who only come to this shithole establishment to get away from their dad (he’s sleeping on their couch because their mom left him for another man). Tamlin always wants to hangout, especially on open mic nights, but he doesn’t have a car and Eris refuses to drive a few extra minutes to pick him up because he doesn't want "unnecessary mileage" on his 2008 beat to shit BWM.

Elain works the front well because she’s the only one who can use the bar's new POS system and Mor waits tables because she’s a customer favorite (she's comps drinks for literally everyone). But there’s really no need for three bartenders on every shift (the bar gets like five customers, max) and Nesta definitely has that shit handled, so most nights Mor and Elain just sit out back near the dumpsters drinking wine coolers and gossiping. They occasionally upload TikTok videos with Gwyn and Emerie, two waitresses who work at the restaurant next door, but Rhys and Feyre let it slide because it’s good publicity.

Vassa, Tarquin, and Helion occasionally meet up at the bar after work (they work at the pr firm across the street) but only because the drinks are cheap and their asshole boss, Amarantha, thinks the establishment is "below her", so they don't feel obligated to invite her along. Helion has slept with like half the staff, and has some weird thing going on with one of the regular's mom, but he always tips well and at least he's consistent. Once, Tarquin let Cassian borrow his boat so he could take Nesta on a date, but he crashed it into a dock when he was trying to park and it ended up being this whole thing. Amren, the lawyer Feyre hired, has sorta advised the staff to refrain from talking about all that though.

Azriel, the bar manager, smokes cigarettes in the old walk-in cooler (Feyre painted it one night during a staff party) between shifts and wonders how the fuck he ended up being in charge of keeping this trainwreck running. He would have quit the job five years ago but he needs the money and Rhys at least offers half decent health insurance. The bar occasionally gets letters from Beron, the local health inspector who is totally on Rhysand’s case, but Az just throws them away in the raccoon infested dumpster outback (the girls swear they haven’t been feeding them) and yearns for the day this whole shitshow finally gets shut down.

Oh, the baby? Yeah he handles accounting and the shadow monster in the basement is in charge of the social media. don't ask.

[nananarc]

Gonna disclose my income as a freelance artist because I feel like it might give some perspective. And mostly bc I'm feeling a bit burnout and I want pity points ok? Lol.

Context 1: For sake of simplicity, all figures are net income (minused all fees, charges, insurance, benefits, etc)

Context 2: I live in a big city in Việt Nam and the cost of living is relatively low. A salary of 1000$/month is considered really good for someone living alone with one pet, no family or children, no debt or other liabilities. Entry level jobs usually start at around 200-300$/month.

.

Let's start in 2021 because that's when it can be considered when I started doing art professionally.

In 2021 and 2022, I was juggling between art school, a part-time online side gig, building social media for my art, and of course try to get commissions. But coms were few and far between, mainly because I didn't have an online present before and I only hang in relatively small fandoms. So all I earn through side gig and art were only some change, in total avarage to about 40$/ month. Some months made up for no income months.

In 2023, things starts to be a bit better as I get more confident in my skill, but coms are still few and far between and months with no income is still common. Side gig was few and far between too and pay less. Overall I'd say it goes up to about 80$/month.

This year 2024, art school is done, I can finally do art full time. But I was severely burnout because all the accumulated stress since waaaaay before catch up with me and i couldn't cope anymore. I have to spend a lot of time resting instead. Fortunately, I received a decent amount of coms each month, and the new patreon surprisingly got a few supporters (I fully realistically expected it to sit at 0 for at least a year). Overall, I have an 8 hours 4 days work week: 4 hours a day on com and managing social media and other stuff that actually makes money; 4 hours a day on my own projects and personal indulgence that doesn't directly make money. As of now, my income is about 180$/month.

.

You are probably wondering how the fuck do one live like this in this economy.

It's because my family is middle class and can afford a freeloader like me in their house, receive their pocket money and tuition fee. I'm privileged.

But of course my family isn't rich and if just one catastrophic event happens to us, we'd be in bad shit. I'm constantly in anxiety of money, work, and the future. It doesn't help that I'm late 20s and many people around keep reminding of how I'm not making money yet still leeching off parents. It doesn't help that, for years all i hear about art is it will just lead to failure and no money.

.

But still, I am thankful of my family for letting me stay here. And all my friends and supporters for giving me money oc lol, but more importantly, believing in me more than I ever do in myself. I read all of your little tags, your keysmash and compliments, and I keep them all dear to my heart, and I went back to them everytime I need motivation. I can't see where my future as an artist will be, but I cling to your support and love as the will to keep going. Thank you all so, so fucking much. I'd have been literally dead in a ditch somewhere without you guys.

Anyway, idk, I've always been adamant about wage transparency (especially in a corporate setting) but I rarely see this in freelance artists. except to flex, to promote the hustle culture, or to sell some courses they made. Most of us don't want/can't subscribe to the grind and have nothing to flex either. All we have is this shit economy. I'd wish we could have been more open about this and many of us wouldn't have to feel so lonely and despair all the time.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

Since ChatBot has an issue with my framing let me explain a little bit.

When I said that Dems should go to jail for objectively lying about their political rivals I was half kidding but not entirely and I'll express why.

Lying is protected under the first amendment. But a few things of note.

Politicians (despite not doing their jobs) have a responsibility to the people they represent.

Election interference is against the law.

As a elected official you have responsibilities and should have actually less freedoms than normal americans. As the liability of your choices are much higher.

So what was my actual point? Kamala Harris, CNN, and 98% or more of the establishment media have been saying a number of things about Trump and others that are factually not true. As in Objectively not the case. What have they said?

-Trump will ban abortion.

Response: Trump has said almost a dozen times until now that he would not only NOT ban abortion, but would veto any bill brought to his desk IF one managed to reach his desk. And said he prefers it left to the states as it is now.

-Trump will ban IVF

Response: Trump has said at least twice that he thinks IVF should be covered by insurance. That's a long way away from a ban.

-Trump will arrest his political opponents.

Response: Trump will enforce the law that the Dems have broken and gotten away with. However this is actually less than fair considering the blatant disregard for the law that the dems have shown until now. Including most of the Establishment and the Dem party waging war against trump on a legal front with stuff that has never been used against people before and instances in which victimhood can't be proven. As well as the fact that a DA ran on finding dirt on trump and trying to put him in jail. (This is mostly an aside point but a needed point to talk about)

-Trump's Project 2025

Response: Trump has not only distanced himself from 2025 but has also said that he has nothing to do with it. Because he does not. The Heritage Foundation created it. And all have more or less stated he has nothing to do with it.

-Trump said nazi's were very fine people

Response: Trump did not say this and it is an objective falsehood. What's more, right before the coup on Joe Biden, Snopes AFTER SEVER FUCKING YEARS finally changed it from something like "Mostly true" to False. His full speech was viewable, plain as day. It was very clear what he said and what he meant.

-Trump called for a Bloodbath if he didn't get elected

Reponse: Trump did not call for a "Bloodbath" if he lost. He said there would be an economic bloodbath if we continue to rely on China's automotive industry, as well as Biden/Harris's policies in general. No intelligent person could listen to what he said and misinterpret that.

And the list goes on but my point is such. All of the points (Though specifically the ones in green) are outright fact checkable things that Dems, the Media, and Neo Liberals have objectively lied about to push Harris to the forefront. News organizations should have LIMITED freedom when it comes to protections. Especially when they tend to circle jerk and cite one another with "The approved narrative".

And that's what I mean when I said, "Should be put in jail". Elected Officials and MSM have an actual responsibility they have long since run away from in favor of spreading lies, slander, and propaganda.

Now I hear the moron chat bot say, "Well what about republicans?" Ok. Let's be fair here. Same deal. Except here is the issue. MSM leans 99% left. That's fact. YOU might claim that false but it's the truth. They all back the Democrats. And even when pushing "Criticism" they go out of their way to good faith, and justify what they complained about.

So. When it comes to embellishment, I take less issue. Exaggeration and embellishment are not the same as objective lying unless you know something is actually false. Like saying, "The fish was THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS BIG". Tends to be an exaggeration more often than not. Also isn't important to the collective function of this country. However, Elected Officials and MSM have responsibilities to the people. This includes NOT fear mongering. Like the commercial I posted where a woman is bleeding on the floor, and the guy calls a physician rather than 911, claiming that a republican will show up in your home and tell your wife to die because "She needs an abortion". 1.) Over the phone you can't know that, and 2.) No Reps will not BAN aid to a dying or in danger mother. It requires a fundamental misunderstanding of what abortion actually is.

So when I say arrest for objective lying, I look at Japan a little for this despite their culture and laws being different. These people have OBJECTIVELY lied about Trump. If Trump were elected we would likely get more of the same as when he was in office last time. Except we might actually see positive change in our country. Not for NeoProgs because you people are lunatics who think kids can consent but that's beside the point. My entire point was that Kamala Harris has objectively lied about things Trump has said. MSM has lied about things he has said. That? That is election meddling. Hell, if I has my way Dorsey, Zuck, and many of the people in all three companies, (google included) would be in prison for election meddling. DOD and DOJ officials as well.

I might fundamentally be a small L libertarian but I also believe in a LAWFUL society. Where as a number of far left radicals think anything they do is "Just". Where as in letter of the law, a number of these people have OBJECTIVELY broken laws. Meanwhile a number of Trump's cases are being overturned and appealed. Including the most important ones, like those levied by Laticia James. And the entire corrupt state of NY. Anyways, this is long enough, but I've made my point. If we have election meddling laws, they need to be enforced. The first two being some of the biggest offenders.

[hislop3]

Friday Feature: COVID and Liability Insurance Coverage

A practice concentration within my business, H2 Healthcare, LLC, belongs to my wife who is also, the firm’s Senior Partner and co-founder and co-owner. The practice area is compliance and a strong focus within, is litigation support/expert witness/forensic nursing. My wife is frankly, one of the foremost clinical compliance (nursing) experts in the nation, supporting insurance companies and…

[brehaaorgana]

THIS WEEK, IN "MY ALCOHOLIC DAD DIED,":

I am really glad that I know just enough about how estate handling works to be dangerous.

While we did our best with cleaning the apartment, and I left my contact info as next-of-kin when I returned the apartment keys, the rental management company reached out to my Aunt in order to let her know they'd identified bio-material (ew) and will need to hire professional cleaners.

This is part of the email they sent:

At this time, bio-material has been identified in the unit. As this is the case, we will need to have the unit treated by a specialty team to complete. Once the service is complete, we can send you the final statement. As this service is costly, we are requesting quotes from multiple company to provide you the best end price. I wanted to make sure you all are aware where we are currently with his account. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns I can help with.

Now, my dear followers, have you spotted the bullshit that even a specialty team couldn't treat?

I'll lay it out!

Once the company was advised that I am legally next of kin, they have no business emailing anyone else but me! I signed return keys paperwork in person, in their office, by writing "on behalf of the estate of (my dad's name)" then my name and then following it with "(Next of Kin, Acting Executor)." I probably didn't need to do any of that but I won't be caught signing anything that even remotely looks like I am taking personal legal liability lmfao. I provided my address and contact info as the next of kin. They demanded seeing MY legal id in order to let me into the apartment. Failure to update best contact info is a bad look.

"this service is costly," neat! You can start by applying his security deposit and making a claim with renters insurance if he notified you of any. You should file that claim before his rental insurance finds out he's dead. You cannot tell me your fucking expensive apartment didn't have a hefty security deposit.

"in order to give you the best end price" oh, really? Gee THAAAANKSS that's SOoOoOoOoo THOUGHTFUL!!! 🙄 This is a bullshit thing to say. You don't need to give me options lol. You should be choosing the most affordable option because —

Sweethearts, your final statement isn't being paid by ME. It's being paid by my father's estate. You are making the gamble there's any money in it. I'm not legally liable to pay any of my father's debts, including your final apartment bill. The liability is with the estate. You can choose the most expensive option and if the estate has no money, then you're the one left with the bill.

Basically what a stupid email to send. You should choose whatever price you're willing to lose entirely in case the estate is insolvent. Get in line with all his credit cards, this dude didn't own property, or his car, and declared bankruptcy at least once lmfao.

probate court will take months, my father was probably broke, and unluckily for you I EAGERLY look forwards to my dad's broke ass screwing over a greedy California landlord. ✌🏻

And I know I don't have to pay a single red cent from life insurance payout if I get anything.