#Obsolescence Management

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Turnkey Manufacturing and its Benefits

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RIP laptop

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Heyyyy, could you do a oneshot f!reader x Zestial nsfw pretty please ? 🙏

Tea Salon ☆ One Shot

Zestial x Salon Owner Sinner!Fem!Reader:

A young woman with big dreams ready to be achieve was what you were, after making a deal with Overlord Rosie you soon found out that your Salon wasn't the only thing that would bloom in your afterlife...

Warning: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, Husband and wife, Praise kink, Creampie, Oral(Female receiving), Old English, NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 5907

Note: okay if you know anything about business, I am so sorry cuz I don’t, I just did some quick research so if it just looks like a bunch of gibberish (Rosie and reader’s meeting), I am sorry! Also a lot of Rosie in the beginning, like zestial is mentioned but doesn’t show up until the shop is open for a little while.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

In your living, you've always appreciated the simplicity of nature-oriented lifestyle reminiscent of earlier eras. It's not that you have anything against new technologies; you own a smartphone and laptop, after all. What irks you is the over-consumerism perpetuated by planned obsolescence.

Your expectation when purchasing something is that it should function and endure, offering value for the time and money invested. The capitalist mindset, with its overproduction and resulting overconsumption, is something you strongly dislike.

Capitalism inherently creates a class conflict between capital and labor. While capitalists aim for high profits, workers may endure exploitation, receiving wages consistently lower than the true value of their labor.

When you had finally passed away due to a malfunctioning smart car and had discovered that even in the afterlife, people still had to work tirelessly to meet end means, you couldn't deny that you felt disappointed.

With a background in restoration, you secured a position in a somewhat upscale restaurant – well, upscale for Hell's pride ring standards. Although you initially started as a garbage boy, you quickly ascended the ranks to become a server.

Devoting longer hours than your colleagues, by choice, you harbored a goal beyond mere survival in the hellscape. You held an ambition, a genuine dream – to establish a tea salon and sustain yourself through it.

Envisioning your own establishment, you aimed to offer freshly baked treats and brewed tea for guests to enjoy while engaging in lively conversations and gossip.

You were well aware of whose assistance was crucial for your project. Overlord Rosie served as your golden ticket to a thriving salon. You needed her help to secure a building in the border zone shared by her and Overlord Zestial, as both of their people were of interest when envisioning the kind of establishment you hope to open.

After three months of relentless work and an additional month of patiently waiting for an appointment on her end, you finally managed to secure a meeting with the elegant cannibal;

"So, what do you have for me today, darling?" she inquires.

"Well, Madam Rosie—" you begin, but you're promptly interrupted by the demon before you.

"Oh, dear, no need for all those 'madam' formalities for a sweet thing like you. Just call me Rosie. But if you insist on honorifics, then ‘Miss Rosie’ will do!" The leader of Hell's cannibal district and owner of the Rosie emporium cheerfully encourages you to address her casually. Despite the power difference, her amiable attitude eases any tension surrounding your sales pitch.

"Oh, very well then. Ahem, Miss Rosie, I'd like to seek your assistance for a passion project of mine," you pause, collecting your thoughts.

"I'm interested in opening a tea salon. It's been four months since I arrived in hell, and I've been searching extensively for the perfect building. Coincidentally, it's situated on your side of the shared border zone with Overlord Zestial. I understand it's not owned by you as part of the border zone, but being on the edge of your colony grants you some jurisdiction."

"Is that so," she replies, sipping her tea. "I appreciate the idea of a tea salon near my territory. Please elaborate more about the idea itself."

"Of course! I personally dislike the over-consumerism that existed on Earth and persists in hell. My goal is to establish one or two shops at most—something familial and local instead of a big chain. I aim to offer freshly baked and brewed drinks for my customers, who would come from all over the Pentagram. I do acknowledge that most of my clientele would be from your people, Overlord Zestial's, and those from the Radio Demon's territory. A simple analysis suggests that sinners from those areas may be more in tune with the concept, as they hail from eras when such establishments were more common," you explain.

"Well, that's all delightful, darling, but, as you rightly point out, the concept isn't foreign in these circles. Your salon is certainly not the first in these parts. No offense to your aspirations, but I'm struggling to see what sets you apart, something that would entice me to invest."

"As for standing out, I may or may not have direct access to products from the living world," you reveal, prompting Rosie to set down her cup.

"Well, isn't that interesting?" she remarks, now more intrigued.

"Yes, indeed it is. I can assure you that not only would my products be fresh, but they would exclusively feature ingredients from the living world – a culinary experience many down here yearn for. Additionally, I can promise you the highest quality of tea, such as Ceylon," you confidently declare.

"And how would someone like you, who sought an Overlord's assistance, have access to such materials? I'm not necessarily doubting you, but connecting the dots is a bit challenging," she says joyfully.

"Oh, I apologize, but I cannot disclose the identities of my procurers. I've signed an NDA as obtaining items from the world upstairs isn't their primary business. Additionally this avoids attracting requests from other companies, I'm afraid they'll have to remain nameless," you explain.

"Well, isn't that convenient for you, fufufu~ I suppose you'll have to prove your word in other ways," she remarks.

"Indeed, perhaps I have an idea on how to do so that you'd like to hear," you suggest.

"I'm all ears," she replies.

"I've noticed there's a kitchen in this building, so I was contemplating rescheduling another meeting soon after this one. During that meeting, I plan not only to bring in earthly ingredients but also to bake something for you. This would showcase my kitchen skills while simultaneously proving my capability to provide the desired products," you express.

"Well, that does seem feasible. I'll pencil you in for next Monday," she replies, jotting something down on her notepad that had been on the coffee table since the start of the meeting. "Now, shall we discuss payment?" she asks.

"Yes, please. As mentioned earlier, I'll handle the supply for my business. What I need from you is assistance in acquiring the building, help with renovations since it's a bit run-down, and perhaps some promotion to your people concerning work, as I'll still require staff when I eventually open. I've checked the listing for the building itself, and I have more than enough for the purchase. However, when renovations and promoting are considered, my budget becomes a bit tight. I was thinking of a BNPL for that part," you explain.

"Alright then, that doesn't seem too bad. How about this: I get 10% of the overall monthly revenue from your establishment. I still need to make some money, after all, fufufu~ Additionally, we can consider a 1-year BNPL plan to repay the renovation loan. And one more thing: to prove your establishment's worth, aim for a minimum 20% net profit by the end of the year since opening day. How does that sound to you?" she inquires.

"10 percent isn't too stiff, but a 20% net profit may be a little challenging in only a year of business. However, I believe in my dream!" you cheerfully exclaim.

"I'm glad you agree, though I still need some collateral for your loan. But let's discuss that after I get to see your skills in action," she tells you a bit more seriously.

"Makes sense," you reply.

"I think that's all for today unless you still have something to talk about," she asks.

"No, that's all from my side," you tell her.

"Wonderful, darling! I hope to see you Monday at 12:35 a.m.," she says as she stands up and points to the door.

"Yes, so do I," you respond as you exit the room.

Leaving her building, you were more than pleased that the meeting had gone well. Once home, as you collapsed on your couch, releasing all your stress, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance encounter with that imp during your first month in hell;

On that day, you had ventured to imp city for errands, finding Carmine products a bit too pricey for your liking. Seeking an alternative for self-defense, you visited a gun shop there.

Exiting the store, you witnessed a heartbreaking scene—an imp being beaten up by a group of sinners, degrading names thrown at him. While you refrained from intervening, as it wasn't your place, the revelation that they were targeting the imp simply because he was an imp, compelled you to approach and ensure he wasn't fatally harmed.

Before you could rouse his battered form with a shake, he uttered, "The hell you want."

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," you reassure him.

"Bullshit," he retorts loudly. "Listen, fucking pickpocket, those assholes already took everything I had on me, besides my clothes. And I sure as hell won't be stroll down these motherfucking streets in my underwear. So, if you wanted anything, too bad, now you have until the count of ten before I blow a hole in your skull," he rudely warns.

"First of all, I'm not going to rob you. Second, how are you going to shoot me if you just said you had nothing on you? And thirdly, I was serious about checking on you. It's unfair that they beat you up just for being an imp. It's messed up, honestly. Since sinners don't have specific races like back on Earth, they just go after other beings to exercise their racist ideology," you say.

"Humans sure do love their racism," he remarks, still untrusting but more open to conversation.

"Sinners are down here for a reason, but hellspawns are different. They're currently living their lives, just like humans did back on Earth. And yet, the damned are considered superior? That's just messed up," you express sincerely. In your view, hell's hierarchy wasn't fair. ‘If this was the sinners' punishment, why categorize them as better than imps—creatures born here, not getting punished for misconduct.’

With that sentiment resonating in your words, the imp seemed more at ease as he responded to your next words. "Anyways, you need medical attention. Let's get to a hospital."

"Do you have the money for medical bills, or even the admission fee? 'Cause I sure don't," he replies, a grin on his face, strangely charming despite his black eye and cut lips.

"Yeah, sorry, pal. I can't afford the rates for treating you; I'm saving for something big," you convey with sadness in your voice.

He chuckles at your honesty. "Thought so," he replies, allowing his body to rest against the brick wall of the alley even more, as if surrendering.

"My place is far from here. Do you have any first aid supplies at yours?" you inquire, a slight panic setting in, concerned that if he fell asleep, he might not make it, even though he wasn't bleeding excessively. Yet, he didn't appear likely to stay conscious much longer.

"Yeah, but it's too far from here," he begins, heightening your anxiety. "Though my office isn't. There's some there too," he adds, his eyes glossy, appearing on the verge of passing out at any moment.

"Alright then, just give me the address, and I'll take you there," he somewhat reluctantly grumbled out the location before passing out.

Entering the address into your phone's search engine and hoisting the imp onto your back, you walked to the location.

Quite aware that cab drivers might attempt to take extort you, especially considering you were a human carrying an injured imp, you opted for the slower but more cost-effective walking route, reaching the destination in about 25 minutes.

Climbing the stairs to the seventh floor drained your energy, but your adrenaline surged upon encountering a hellhound and two imps inside the office.

The hellhound growled and barked aggressively, while the female imp simultaneously yelled and prepared for a fight. The only one not seeing red was the male imp, who was trying to make sense of the situation.

"What the hell happened to Blitzø!??" the hellhound demanded.

"Yeah, what the hell did you do to him!?!??" the female imp added, brandishing a knife.

"Millie, calm down. If they brought him here, they're most likely not the ones who hurt him," the male imp reasoned with the female.

"Yeah, it wasn't me. He got beaten up by a group of supremacist sinners," you explained as you gently placed him on the couch in the room. "He told me he had a first aid kit here, so I brought him here as neither he nor I could afford the hospital bills."

"And how can we be sure you aren't part of the jerks who hurt him, huh?" the female imp asked, her nerves still on edge, clearly showing concern for the imp. ‘Well, no, Millie showed concern a lot about Blitz.’

"You can just ask him when he wakes up, but right now, he needs help. So, can any of you bring the kit, and we'll get this over with."

With reluctance, the hellhound, whom you soon learned was named Luna, retrieved the kit and left the healing to the male imp, Moxxie. They preferred you not to touch him any further.

After briefly stepping out to grab some missing antiseptic, you observed as they took care of him. You had convinced your way into staying until he awoke; the thought that his injuries might be worse than you initially thought haunted you, and you couldn't bear the idea that he might have died if you hadn't brought him here fast enough.

After Blitzø had regained consciousness, he thanked you and offered a 50% discount on your first kill. Curious about the statement, you informed him that you weren't aware of what his company specialized in. He somewhat joyfully played their commercial for you.

Finding it all very intriguing, you inquired about the possibility of them visiting the living world for a different purpose, which he confirmed but clarified it wasn't their company's business.

Tugging a bit at their heartstrings, particularly after saving Blitzø, you divulged your ambitions. To stand out and make your dream a reality, you needed something unique, and they held the key to it. Your request was for them to procure ingredients from the human world.

Blitzø exhibited reluctance, but Millie underwent a 180-degree shift, genuinely eager to assist you, with her husband supporting her. After some persuasion, you struck a deal with I.M.P. In exchange for 5/7 of the usual kill price and keeping things on the down low, they agreed to provide you with a weekly shipment of the groceries.

Returning to the present, it was now Monday, and you found yourself 10 minutes ahead of schedule, standing in front of Rosie's emporium with a large cooler containing your ingredients.

An employee inside noticed you through the sizable glass entry doors and came out to guide you to the kitchen. They assured you that they would inform Rosie of your arrival and gave you the green light to start setting up.

True to your word, you efficiently prepared the kitchen, and right on schedule, Rosie arrived to find a clean and ready-to-use workspace, along with the promised fresh and earthy ingredients;

"Looks like you're a woman of your word, aren't you, dear?" Rosie remarked as she grabbed some dairy products and checked the expiration dates on them.

"Of course, and I wouldn't even dream of lying to you in the first place," you assured her.

"Oh, how trustworthy you are, fufufu~" she teased.

"Of course, now should I begin?" you asked, and she replied affirmatively.

With that, the baking commenced. Your choice of treat for today was a Charlotte au fraise. In about 35 minutes, you finished the preparation.

The dessert needed to chill for 8 hours in the fridge, but anticipating such a wait, you had invested in a 'chill crystal' for today and the future. This crystal is essential for cooks and bakers alike in hell as it significantly reduces the time a dish needs to be refrigerated.

Using it, your 8 hours turned into 25 minutes. During that time, you cleaned your equipment and the kitchen and, of course, brewed some tea for Rosie.

Upon reaching the 25-minute mark, you brought out the cake, cut a slice for Rosie, and served her a cup of tea. She relished every last bit of it;

"This was all wonderful, y/n," she expressed. "I am sure of it now, I will definitely invest in your dream!"

"Oh, thank you, Miss Rosie! You don't know how much this means to me!" you exclaimed joyfully.

"I'm glad I can help. But now that we've agreed I'll lend my assistance to you on your adventure, I still need you to agree on the collateral for the BNPL I want."

"Oh, of course. What is it?" you asked.

"Well, it's elementary, dear. What I want is... your soul!" she told you.

"Oh, well, that's only until I pay you back, right?" You asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course. If everything goes well and you pay me back before the deadline, you'll get your soul back. But if you exceed the time limit, your soul will indefinitely belong to me. I hope you understand that," she explained.

With a gulp, you spoke up, "I understand, Miss. Rosie."

"Wonderful, then... 'It's a deal,'" she declared, and with those words, a bright pink contract materialized, altering the entire room's shade. Nervously, you picked up a pen from the table and signed your soul away.

As you pulled away from the contract, a pink chain momentarily appeared around your neck, then vanished in a flash along with the contract.

The demonstration went well, and you got what you wanted. While having your soul signed away was nerve-racking, you believed that if you made your vision work in time, it would return to you.

You begin to double your efforts, working your ass off harder than before. On your days off from the restaurant, you checked on the renovations of your building, and about a month later, everything was completed. After a long time of sucking up to the influential guests of the restaurant, you earned enough money to quit and open your shop.

With Rosie's promotion to her people, you efficiently built a staff, even recruiting some from other districts. On the 7th of August, you finally opened the doors to your shop, and it turned out to be a tremendous success.

The turnout exceeded expectations, but you had trained your staff to handle it. Business was booming, meeting Rosie's conditions in about 5 months instead of a year.

Just as you had envisioned, people from all over the pentagram flocked to enjoy the services your establishment provided. Surprisingly, sinners from Zestial'd district emerged as your number 1 clientele, surpassing even Rosie's people.

With your salon becoming the hot topic of his district, it caught the interest of the governing overlord. Since his people were captivated by your establishment, he decided to pay a visit himself. And so he did.

Upon the first approach to the building, he was delighted by the overall aesthetic.

While he wasn't from the era when salons first became popular, being about two centuries older, the entire ambiance brought a sense of nostalgia, even though he wasn't alive when they gained popularity.

Another aspect that pleased him was the evident respect guests and staff showed to the establishment during a service. People were polite, and the quality of the food served was impeccable.

He was currently enjoying a cup of tea with none other than Rosie, discussing the success of the establishment;

"You've madeth a valorous investment, mine lief friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've hath found quite the gem,” Zestial complimented Rosie as he sipped his tea.

Setting her cup down, Rosie responded, "Oh, quite the contrary, Zestial. My dear little owner was the one who reached out. Sparkles in her eyes and a big dream in her heart. With hard work, she achieved those ambitions, beating my expectations and regaining her soul in less than half the time I expected."

"is yond so? Quite the guts and perseverance the lady hath,“ he replied, taking another sip of his tea.

"Yes, though I honestly didn't expect your people to enjoy this place so much. Really messed up my calculations," she said, playfully feigning frustration.

"well, sinners art inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus," he paused to take a bite of a fruit tart on his plate, "with desserts like this, i don't expect anyone to intermit long ere coming to tryeth those folk for themselves. Speaking of which, i would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous worketh, “ he said once he had swallowed his bite.

Rosie replied, "Well, that's the fun thing – they're both the same person. She works diligently as both showrunner and employee! But yes, I can get her if you truly wish to speak to her."

"yond would beest appreciated,“ he told her.

Meanwhile, you were on the phone with a decor company, trying to arrange something for Valentine's Day in a month – or more like Valentine's week, with new decor from the 7th to the 14th.

Once you hung up, Rosie entered the office and informed you of the situation. Without questions, you followed her into the main room of the salon, and let's just say you were nervous;

Gazing at your form, Zestial spoke out, "i wilt sayeth, miss y/n, i greatly enjoy thy establishment, and so doth mine people.”

"Oh— thank you so much, Zestial, sir, I- I mean, Mr. Zestial. Sorry, I meant Overlord Zestial! So sorry!" you stammer.

"quite the nervous one, isn’t the lady?" he did add with a bawbling chuckle. he said to Rosie, who only nodded in agreement. "well, nay needeth for worries. 'zestial' is quite fine, child." he added with a small chuckle.

"Oh, alright then. Thank you for your praise, Zestial," you said with a soft smile, which he returned. ‘Satan, was he handsome.’

"Hey, how come you call him by his name right away, and I'm still 'Miss Rosie'?" Rosie teased.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Rosie. I've just gotten used to it," you replied, and they both laughed at your flustered state.

This soon became a common occurrence for you, and quickly after that, Zestial came more and more often to the point that your salon became Zestial's meeting spot when discussing business. Consequently, he had his own VIP room for such occurrences.

Simultaneously, you grew closer with the Overlord, becoming more comfortable around him. About a month later, you found yourself crushing on the man, giving him a fair amount of treats on the house to show affection.

And don't think said affection went unnoticed by him. Being an old soul like him brought wisdom, especially in the romance department.

Actually, Zestial himself found himself enamored with you, leading to him declaring his desire to court you;

You were tidying up the VIP room after one of Zestial's meetings, swiping down the table. As you prepared to leave the room, the Overlord spoke up.

"y/n, darling, may i hath't a word with thee?” he asked.

"Yes, of course, Zestial. What do you need?" you replied, your voice slightly quivering, because, 'fuck, did you love the fact he started calling you romantic pet names.'

"well, mine lovely business owner, i hath't to admit something to thee, so prithee did put the rag down and sitteth, " he requested. You obliged. "It seems that I have found mys"'t seemeth yond i hath't did find myself having fallen for thee,“ he began, making your breath hitch.

"i eke did notice yond thee seemeth to feeleth the same, or am i wrong?" he inquired, causing you to shake your head and answer with a weak, flustered 'no.' "did doth bethink so," he said with a chuckle. "then, as we both feeleth for one another, i'd like to court thee, unless thee hath't something 'gainst me doing so.”

"Yes— I mean no, well, um, shit," you stammered. Taking a breath, you spoke out again. "What I meant to say was, yes, I would love to be courted by you, more than anything, actually," you admitted.

Standing up, walking behind you, and wrapping his arm around your figure, he leaned down to your ear. "well, isn't yond perfect. I can't wait to hath't thee all to myself still,“ he whispered, somewhat sensually, leaving you in shock yet longing for more when he pulled away.

And with that, the courtship began. You found yourself taken out for nights on the town to nice restaurants, sweet notes and love poems left in your office for you to see, and evenings spent at his castle in the fireplace room, listening as he serenaded you, oh so lovingly.

You honestly couldn't wait for you and him to become official. You might have thought that being spoken for after such a short time was idiotic in the past, but Zestial was just so perfect and all you needed in your afterlife. It was obvious that you would marry as soon as he asked you.

About 5 months after your initial meeting, you found yourself dining with your suitor at quite the fancy restaurant, fancier than the one you used to work at actually.

"how art thee liking thy food, mine sweet y/n?” Zestial inquired.

"Yes, it's wonderful. What about yours, Zestial?" you asked back.

"everything is eke wonderful on mine end, " he replied, then added on, "Mine darling, would thee mind stopping thy meal for an instant? I'd like to break with an important matter with thee.”

"Oh, why, of course," you replied, putting down your utensils. You were now accustomed to Zestial and his ways, but his next move surprised you.

Zestial had stood up and got on his knees. "mine love, despite not having known thee for yond long did compare to mine long existence, i cannot see myself spending mine life beyond the grave without thee. Thou art high-sighted, talented, ingenious, and quite quaint, to a sir like me, and i would did bet many others, ye art quite literally breathtaking. Yond is accounting for thee as a whole, not just thy aesthetic attributes. So, y/n l/n, would thee doth me the honor of being thy husband for eternity?” He said as he pulled out a ring box, opening it to reveal a beautiful green diamond ring.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you gasped in surprise, your eyes widened at the stunning ring before you. The green diamond sparkled, capturing the essence of your feelings.

"Oh, Zestial..." You trailed off, a wave of happiness and love washing over you. Tears of joy glistened in your eyes as you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, a thousand times yes!" you exclaimed, your heart pounding with excitement. Zestial's face lit up with a radiant smile as he gently slipped the ring onto your finger.

As the dazzling gem adorned your hand, sealing the promise of eternity, Zestial rose from his kneeling position. You both shared a tender embrace, sealing the moment with a passionate kiss. The restaurant's ambiance faded away as you were immersed in the warmth of Zestial's affection.

The patrons and staff discreetly applauded, offering their congratulations to the newly engaged couple. Zestial held you close, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.

"to our dateless love,“ he whispered, and you clinked your glasses together in a toast. The night continued, now infused with the magic of your commitment to each other.

From that moment forward, you and Zestial embarked on a beautiful journey, navigating the twists and turns of the afterlife hand in hand, bound by an eternal love that transcended time and existence.

And so, your wedding unfolded in a splendid ceremony. Radiant in your role, you felt like a true queen that day, with Rosie officiating and injecting humor into the proceedings, eliciting laughter from you, Zestial, and your guests.

The day was a jubilant celebration, offering you the chance to become better acquainted with Zestial's fellow overlords, including Carmilla Carmine: Holy Arms Dealer and Alastor: The Radio Demon. Despite their contrasting personalities, they played nice for the sake of the occasion.

However, that was a few hours ago. Now, with the reception concluded, all the guests had departed, leaving you and Zestial in the intimate confines of his castle, specifically, his bedroom.

Following tradition, this was the night of your nuptials, the night where you and Zestial would come together as one for the first time;

Seated at the edge of the king-size bed in your now shared room, you adorned yourself in an exquisite, intricately embroidered transparent nightgown, awaiting Zestial.

The faint click of the door drew your attention, and your now-husband entered, pushing the door open with a subtle yet confident gesture.

"Well, mine dearest bride, “ Zestial said, his voice filled with an underlying lustfulness that sent shivers down your spine. "'t seemeth we finally hath't some time high-lone.” He stepped closer to you, his presence filling up the entire room.

You could feel his eyes roaming over your exposed body, drinking in every inch of you like a starving demon discovering a feast fit for a king. While you tried hard not to squirm or show any signs of discomfort, your heart raced faster than it ever had before as he spoke words of praise.

"T-thank you, Zestial," you managed to croak out, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

His voice dripping with false surprise. "thee behold absolutely stunning in yond gown, y/n.”

He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to caress your exposed thighs, his touch sending electric shocks coursing through your entire body. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, fighting the urge to whimper aloud as he continued to tease you. ‘Were you always this needy?’

"art thee eft for me to claim what is rightfully mine?” he asked, his eyes flashing with hunger.

You nodded vigorously, as he slowly undressed himself, revealing his tall, imposing frame covered in black fabric that clung tightly to his lithe figure. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants.

As he stood before you, nude except for his dark briefs, you couldn't help but marvel at his imposing presence. He towered over you like a giant spider, his erect member straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

Trembling slightly, you open your legs, inviting him to climb onto the bed and join you. Without hesitation, Zestial crawled onto the mattress, positioning himself between your spread legs. He leaned forward, his mouth hovering inches away from your pussy, his breath hot against your sensitive folds.

"Tell me, mine own lief jointress," he purred, his voice low and husky. "Would thee liketh me to gust thee first?”

A shiver ran down your spine as you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "Yes... please..."

Zestial's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your sensitive flesh. You let out a soft moan as he began to tease you, tracing light kisses along your thighs and inner thighs before finally reaching your wet, quivering entrance.

He sucked on your sensitive folds, causing your hips to buck and writhe involuntarily.

As he continued his lewd assault on your most intimate areas, his tongue darted out to lick and circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You arched your back, crying out his name, your nails digging into the sheets as he relentlessly pleasured you.

"Oh, Satan... Zestial!" You panted, your breath coming in short gasps. "I'm going to—I'm almost there!"

"Good girl," Zestial growled, his voice thick with desire. He increased the pace of his assault, sucking harder on your clit and thrusting his tongue deeper into your wetness.

Your moans turned into incoherent moans of pure ecstasy as he brought you closer to the edge of orgasm.

Just as you felt you were about to cum, he suddenly pulled away, leaving you craving more. "Not yet, mine own dram naughty bride," he purred. "We haven't begun yet. “

He stood up straight again, his hardened member now fully exposed, throbbing with anticipation. "do thee wanteth me to filleth thee up anon?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You panted heavily, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Yes, please, Zestial," you pleaded, your voice hoarse from your intense arousal. "I need you inside me."

“Are thee sure mine own loveth, thy so bawbling i’m afraid i might breaketh thee. ” He teased, which only made whine pleadingly.

Without further ado, Zestial positioned himself between your spread legs once more. Slowly, he pushed himself into your tight, wet entrance, filling you up to the brim.

A mixture of pain and pleasure radiated throughout your body as he began to thrust rhythmically, his massive member stretching and stretching you further than you ever thought possible.

Each thrust was accompanied by a low groan from both of you, the sounds of your bodies slapping together filling the quiet room.

Your nails clawed at the sheets, leaving long, deep scratches in the fabric as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your orgasm built up faster than before, approaching its peak once more.

"Cum f'r me, mine own lief," Zestial growled, his eyes blazing with lust. "Let wend and releaseth all yond pent-up desire. “

You cried out his name, your body convulsing violently as you climaxed again, your juices coating his member and dripping down your thighs.

Your orgasm seemed to fuel him further, and he picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder than ever before.

"Yes! More, give me more!" You begged, your voice barely recognizable from the pleasure that consumed you.

As your body continued to shake with each powerful thrust, Zestial groaned deeply, his fingers digging into your hips for support. Suddenly, he groaned loudly, his entire body tensing up before shooting his hot seed deep inside of you, filling you completely.

Finally, he pulled out of you, his cock still twitching as he collapsed beside you on the bed. Panting heavily, he reached over and brushed a strand of sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"That wast. quite wond'rful," he managed to croak out between heavy breaths. "Howev'r, i doubteth a single round shall suffice to satisfyeth mine own needeth, consid'ring i've been anticipating this moment f'r months. ”

“Oh.” Was all you had the time to say before your night of passion continues.

"Thank you, Zestial," you panted, your own breath returning to normal. "That was... amazing."

You reached over and caressed his cheek, your fingers trailing down to his chin. "Could we... do it again sometime?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes softening slightly. "Of course, mine own lief jointress," he replied, chuckling at your somewhat innocent neediness, his voice still husky with satisfaction. "We has't all the timeth in this hellish w'rld togeth'r anon. "

You lay there for a while, basking in their post-coital bliss, their hearts racing in sync. Eventually, Zestial stirred, moving closer to you. "Do thee needeth aught else bef're we retireth f'r the night?” he asked, his hand trailing down your stomach to rest on your hipbone.

“No, I just want you close to me.” You answered,

“Of course.” he replied softly, placing a kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep in each other’s arms….

Old English in order of apparition;

"You've madeth a valorous investment, mine lief friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've hath found quite the gem, ” = "You've made a good investment, my friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've found quite the gem,”

"is yond so? Quite the guts and perseverance the lady hath,“ = "Is that so? Quite the guts and perseverance she has,"

"well, sinners art inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus," = "Well, sinners are inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus,"

"with desserts like this, i don't expect anyone to intermit long ere coming to tryeth those folk for themselves. Speaking of which, i would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous worketh, “ = "with desserts like this, I don't expect anyone to resist long before coming to try them for themselves. Speaking of which, I would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous work,"

"yond would beest appreciated,“ = "That would be appreciated,"

"i wilt sayeth, miss y/n, i greatly enjoy thy establishment, and so doth mine people.” = "I must say, Miss Y/n, I greatly enjoy your establishment, and so do my people."

"quite the nervous one, isn’t the lady?" = "Quite the nervous one, isn’t she?"

"well, nay needeth for worries. 'zestial' is quite fine, child." = "Well, no need for worries. 'Zestial' is quite fine, child,"

"y/n, darling, may i hath't a word with thee?” he asked. = "Y/n, darling, may I have a word with you?"

"well, mine lovely business owner, i hath't to admit something to thee, so prithee did put the rag down and sitteth, " = "Well, my lovely business owner, I have to admit something to you, so please put the rag down and sit,"

"It seems that I have found mys"'t seemeth yond i hath't did find myself having fallen for thee,“ = "It seems that I have found myself having fallen for you,"

"i eke did notice yond thee seemeth to feeleth the same, or am i wrong?" = "I also noticed that you seem to feel the same, or am I wrong?"

"did doth bethink so," = "Thought so,"

"then, as we both feeleth for one another, i'd like to court thee, unless thee hath't something 'gainst me doing so.” = "Then, as we both feel for one another, I'd like to court you, unless you have something against me doing so."

"well, isn't yond perfect. I can't wait to hath't thee all to myself still,“ = "Well, isn't that perfect. I can't wait to have you all to myself forever,"

"how art thee liking thy food, mine sweet y/n?” = "How are you liking your food, my sweet Y/N?"

"everything is eke wonderful on mine end, " = "Everything is also wonderful on my end,"

"Mine darling, would thee mind stopping thy meal for an instant? I'd like to break with an important matter with thee.” = "My darling, would you mind stopping your meal for an instant? I'd like to discuss an important matter with you."

"mine love, despite not having known thee for yond long did compare to mine long existence, i cannot see myself spending mine life beyond the grave without thee. Thou art high-sighted, talented, ingenious, and quite quaint, to a sir like me, and i would did bet many others, ye art quite literally breathtaking. Yond is accounting for thee as a whole, not just thy aesthetic attributes. So, y/n l/n, would thee doth me the honor of being thy husband for eternity?” = "My love, despite not having known you for that long compared to my long existence, I cannot see myself spending my life beyond the grave without you. You're ambitious, talented, ingenious, and beautiful, to a man like me, and I would bet many others, you are quite literally breathtaking. That is accounting for you as a whole, not just your aesthetic attributes. So, Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of being your husband for eternity?"

"to our dateless love,“ = "To our everlasting love,"

"Well, mine dearest bride, “ = "Well, my dearest bride,"

"'t seemeth we finally hath't some time high-lone.” = "It seems we finally have some time alone."

"thee behold absolutely stunning in yond gown, y/n.”= "You look absolutely stunning in that gown, y/n."

"art thee eft for me to claim what is rightfully mine?” = "Are you ready for me to claim what is rightfully mine?"

"tell me, mine own lief jointress," = "Tell me, my dear wife,"

"Would thee liketh me to gust thee first?” = "Would you like me to taste you first?"

"not yet, mine own dram naughty bride," = "Not yet, my little naughty bride,"

"We haven't begun yet. “ = "We haven't begun yet."

"do thee wanteth me to filleth thee up anon?” = "Do you want me to fill you up now?"

“are thee sure mine own loveth, thy so bawbling i’m afraid i might breaketh thee. ” = “Are you sure my love, your so small I’m afraid I might break you.”

"Cum f'r me, mine own lief," = "Cum for me, my dear,"

"Let wend and releaseth all yond pent-up desire. “= "Let go and release all that pent-up desire."

"That wast. quite wond'rful," = "That was... quite wonderful,"

"Howev'r, i doubteth a single round shall suffice to satisfyeth mine own needeth, consid'ring i've been anticipating this moment f'r months. ” = "However, I doubt a single round will suffice to satisfy my needs, considering I've been anticipating this moment for months.”

"Of course, mine own lief jointress," = “Of course, my dear wife,"

"We has't all the timeth in this hellish w'rld togeth'r anon. " = "We have all the time in this hellish world together now.”

"do thee needeth aught else bef're we retireth f'r the night?” = "Do you need anything else before we retire for the night?"

Thanks anon for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

[jenroses]

After a series of appliance fails that had to result in new appliances being bought, it feels like absolute victory that we were able to fucking FIX the stove burners rather than throw the whole thing out because it was too expensive to fix. We had an oven where when it went, the replacement part was going to be $500 not including labor. It was maybe a $600 oven. That was a few years back.

When we moved into this house in 2007, we bought a bunch of new appliances and every FUCKING one of them went out within 7 years. IIRC, this stove was bought in 2003-ish, it's a Whirlpool, and they still make the parts for it, and the parts cost about $60 total. Hubby pulled the stove out, roommate did the mechanical stuff, I troubleshot it when something wasn't working, and the end result is that two wonky burners are now functional burners (we replaced the infinity switches).

Anyway, I don't think Whirlpool makes perfect appliances, but they make REPAIRABLE appliances, and that counts for a whole fucking lot.

We had a frigidaire, once upon a time, that we got an extended warranty on... but they manufactured the shelving out of non-cold-resistant plastic that cracked excessively and when we tried to get warranty service on them they said "Those are consumables" and I was like, "I'm not EATING THEM. They're just badly designed." It cost like $60 PER DRAWER for brand name replacements which promptly broke. We finally fixed things with duct tape until it stopped keeping food at the right temperature and fixing it was going to cost more than I wanted to spend on a fridge I now loathed with the hate of a thousands suns, and after about 5 years it stopped being functional enough to keep food at refrigerator temps and was repurposed into a spare freezer as that was what it was determined to do.

Meanwhile, yes, the whirlpool fridge we now have had an issue with the lid for the water filter, which we were able to replace for idk $20 and the ice maker sometimes freezes over but then fixes itself, and the light doesn't work right, but it keeps the food the right temperature, and the water works and it's the right size and we've been able to manage.

Anyway, right to repair is NECESSARY and planned obsolescence is evil.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Intuit: “Our fraud fights racism”

Tonight (September 27), I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

Today's key concept is "predatory inclusion": "a process wherein lenders and financial actors offer needed services to Black households but on exploitative terms that limit or eliminate their long-term benefits":

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2329496516686620

Perhaps you recall predatory inclusion from the Great Financial Crisis, when predatory subprime mortgages with deceptive teaser rates were foisted on Black homeowners (who were eligible for better mortgages), resulting in a wave of Black home theft in the foreclosure crisis:

https://prospect.org/justice/staggering-loss-black-wealth-due-subprime-scandal-continues-unabated/

Before these loans blew up, they were styled as a means of creating Black intergenerational wealth through housing speculation. They turned out to be a way to suck up Black families' savings before rendering them homeless and forcing them into houses owned by the Wall Street slumlords who bought all the housing stock the Great Financial Crisis put on the market:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/08/wall-street-landlords/#the-new-slumlords

That was just an update on an old con: the "home sale contract," invented by loan-sharks who capitalized on redlining to rip off Black families. Back when banks and the US government colluded to deny mortgages to Black households, sleazy lenders created the "contract loan," which worked like a mortgage, but if you were late on a single payment, the lender could seize and sell your home and not pay you a dime – even if the house was 99% paid for:

https://socialequity.duke.edu/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/Plunder-of-Black-Wealth-in-Chicago.pdf

Usurers and con-artists love to style themselves as anti-racists, seeking to "close the racial wealth gap." The payday lending industry – whose triple-digit interest rates trap poor people in revolving debt that they can never pay off – styles itself as a force for racial justice:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/29/planned-obsolescence/#academic-fraud

Payday lenders prey on poor people, and in America, "poor" is often a euphemism for "Black." Payday lenders disproportionately harm Black families:

https://ung.edu/student-money-management-center/money-minute/racial-wealth-gap-payday-loans.php

Payday lenders are just unlicensed banks, who deploy a layer of bullshit to claim that they don't have to play by the rules that bind the rest of the finance sector. This scam is so juicy that it spawned the fintech industry, in which a bunch of unregulated banks sprung up to claim that they were too "innovative" to be regulated:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

When you hear "Fintech," think "unlicensed bank." Fintech turned predatory inclusion into a booming business, recruiting Black spokespeople to claim that being the sucker at the table in the cryptocurrency casino was actually a form of racial justice:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/07/business/media/cryptocurrency-seeks-the-spotlight-with-spike-lees-help.html

But not all predatory inclusion is financial. Take Facebook Basics, Meta's "poor internet for poor people" program. Facebook partnered with telcos in the Global South to rig their internet access. These "zero rating" programs charged subscribers by the byte to reach any service except Facebook and its partners. Facebook claimed that this would "bridge the digital divide," by corralling "the next billion internet users" into using its services.

The fact that this would make "Facebook" synonymous with "the internet" was just an accidental, regrettable side-effect. Naturally, this was bullshit from top to bottom, and the countries where zero-rating was permitted ended up having more expensive wireless broadband than the countries that banned it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/02/countries-zero-rating-have-more-expensive-wireless-broadband-countries-without-it

The predatory inclusion gambit is insultingly transparent, but that doesn't stop desperate scammers from trying it. The latest chancer is Intuit, who claim that the end of its decade-long, wildly profitable "free tax prep" scam is bad for Black people:

https://www.propublica.org/article/turbotax-intuit-black-taxpayers-irs-free-file-marketing

Some background. In nearly every rich country on Earth, the tax authorities send every taxpayer a pre-filled tax return, based on the information submitted by employers, banks, financial planners, etc. If that looks good to you, you just sign it and send it back. Otherwise, you can amend it, or just toss it in the trash and pay a tax-prep specialist to produce your own return.

But in America, taxpayers spend billions every year to send forms to the IRS that tell it things it already knows. To make this ripoff seem fair, the hyper-concentrated tax-prep industry, led by the Intuit, creators of Turbotax, pretended to create a program to provide free tax-prep to working people.

This program was called Free File, and it was a scam. The tax-prep cartel each took a different segment of Americans who were eligible for Freefile and then created an online house of mirrors that would trick those people into spending hours working on their tax-returns until they were hit with an error message falsely claiming they were ineligible for the free service and demanding hundreds of dollars to file their returns.

Intuit were world champions at this scam. They blocked their Freefile offering from search-engine crawlers and then bought ads that showed up when searchers typed "freefile" into the query box that led them to deceptively named programs that had "free" in their names but cost a fortune to use – more than you'd pay for a local CPA to file on your behalf.

The Attorneys General of nearly every US state and territory eventually sued Intuit over this, settling for $141m:

https://www.agturbotaxsettlement.com/Home/portalid/0

The FTC is still suing them over it:

https://www.ftc.gov/legal-library/browse/cases-proceedings/192-3119-intuit-inc-matter-turbotax

We have to rely on state AGs and the FTC to bring Intuit to justice because every Intuit user clicks through an agreement in which we permanently surrender our right to sue the company, no matter how many laws it breaks. For corporate criminals, binding arbitration waivers are the gift that keeps on giving:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/24/uber-for-arbitration/#nibbled-to-death-by-ducks

Even as the scam was running out, Intuit spent millions lobby-blitzing Congress, desperate for action that would let it continue to privately tax the nation for filling in forms that – once again – told the IRS things it already knew. They really love the idea of paying taxes on paying your taxes:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/20/turbotaxed/#counter-intuit

But they failed. The IRS has taken Freefile in-house, will send you a pre-completed tax return if you want it. This should be the end of the line for Intuit and other tax-prep profiteers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/17/free-as-in-freefile/#tell-me-something-i-dont-know

Now we're at the end of the line for the scam, Intuit is playing the predatory inclusion card. They're conning Black newspapers like the Chicago Defender into running headlines like "IRS Free Tax Service Could Further Harm Blacks,"

https://defendernetwork.com/news/opinion/irs-free-tax-service-could-further-harm-blacks/

The only named source in that article? Intuit spokesperson Derrick Plummer. The article went out on the country's Black newswire Trice Edney, whose editor-in-chief did not respond to Propublica's Paul Kiel's questions.

Then Black Enterprise got in on the game, publishing "Critics Claim The IRS Free Tax Prep Service Could Hurt Black Americans." Once again, the only named source for the article was Plummer, who was "quoted at length." Black Enterprise declined to tell Kiel where that article came from:

https://www.blackenterprise.com/critics-claim-the-irs-free-tax-prep-service-could-hurt-black-americans/

For Intuit, placing op-eds is a tried-and-true tactic for laundering its ripoffs into respectability. Leaked internal Intuit memos detail the company's strategy of "pushing back through op-eds" to neutralize critics:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/6483061-Intuit-TurboTax-2014-15-Encroachment-Strategy.html

Intuit spox Derrick Plummer did respond to Kiel's queries, denying that Intuit was paying for these op-eds, saying "with an idea as bad as the Direct File scheme we don’t have to pay anyone to talk about how terrible it is."

Meanwhile, ex-NAACP director (and No Labels co-chair) Benjamin Chavis has used his position atop the National Newspaper Publishers Association to publish op-eds against the IRS Direct File program, citing the Progressive Policy Institute, a pro-business thinktank that Intuit's internal documents describe as part of its "coalition":

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/6483061-Intuit-TurboTax-2014-15-Encroachment-Strategy.html

Chavis's Chicago Tribune editorial claimed that Direct File could cause Black filers to miss out on tax-credits they are entitled to. This is a particularly ironic claim given Intuit's prominent role in sabotaging the Child Tax Credit, a program that lifted more Americans out of poverty than any other in history:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/29/three-times-is-enemy-action/#ctc

It's also an argument that can be found in Intuit's own anti-Direct File blog posts:

https://www.intuit.com/blog/innovative-thinking/taxpayer-empowerment/intuit-reinforces-its-commitment-to-fighting-for-taxpayers-rights/

The claim is that because the IRS disproportionately audits Black filers (this is true), they will screw them over in other ways. But Evelyn Smith, co-author of the study that documented the bias in auditing says this is bullshit:

https://siepr.stanford.edu/publications/working-paper/measuring-and-mitigating-racial-disparities-tax-audits

That's because these audits of Black households are triggered by the IRS's focus on Earned Income Tax Credits, a needlessly complicated program available to low-income (and hence disproportionately Black) workers. The paperwork burden that the IRS heaps on EITC recipients means that their returns contain errors that trigger audits.

As Smith told Propublica, "With free, assisted filing, we might expect EITC claimants to make fewer mistakes and face less intense audit scrutiny, which could help reduce disparities in audit rates between Black and non-Black taxpayers."

Meanwhile, the predatory inclusion talking points continue to proliferate. Nevada accountants and the state's former controller somehow coincidentally managed to publish op-eds with nearly identical wording. Phillip Austin, vice-chair of Arizon's East Valley Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, claims that free IRS tax prep "would disproportionately hurt the Hispanic community." Austin declined to tell Propublica how he came to that conclusion.

Right-wing think-tanks are pumping out a torrent of anti-Direct File disinfo. This surely has nothing to do with the fact that, for example, Center Forward has HR Block's chief lobbyist on its board:

https://thehill.com/opinion/finance/4125481-direct-e-file-wont-make-filing-taxes-any-easier-but-it-could-make-things-worse/

The whole thing reeks of bullshit and desperation. That doesn't mean that it won't succeed in killing Direct File. If there's one thing America loves, it's letting businesses charge us a tax just for dealing with our own government, from paying our taxes to camping in our national parks:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/30/military-industrial-park-service/#booz-allen

Interestingly, there's a MAGA version of predatory inclusion, in which corporations convince low-information right-wingers that efforts to protect them from ripoffs are "woke." These campaigns are, incredibly, even stupider than the predatory inclusion tale.

For example, there's a well-coordianted campaign to block the junk fees that the credit card cartel extracts from merchants, who then pass those charges onto us. This campaign claims that killing junk fees is woke:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

How does that work? Here's the logic: Target sells Pride merch. That makes them woke. Target processes a lot of credit-card transactions, so anything that reduces card-processing fees will help Target. Therefore, paying junk fees is a way to own the libs.

No, seriously.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

[sunbentshadows]

I've been turning this over in my head the past few days: Does anyone else think of the way the Millennial/GenZ generation in the USA have never had a functioning federal government in our lives? We're so USED to living like this we hardly even register it.

Think of all the stupid day-to-day things that make your life worse- the small things . Billions of emails in your inbox after one purchase, all of whom have already sold your data. Inability to easily cancel subscriptions online. 23andme going under meaning it's very likely their entire userbase's genetic data is about to be sold to private equity. Forever. Data privacy, passwords, the fact your SSN and health records and everything else have been leaked online and you just have to hope you don't win the stolen-identity lottery.

Or cars - touchscreens in cars which are so horrifically dangerous they should have been banned in the beginning, or that the stupid fucking Cybertruck is even allowed to be on roads, the ridiculous lifted-trucks that kill people and children that are now STANDARD model, or LED headlights so DANGEROUSLY bright they destroy your night-vision. Or even WATER - corporations allowed to take water rights and bottle and sell, or food-waste laws, or plastic-waste laws...

That I still need four different chargers MINIMUM for all my bits and bobs of technology, that tech companies are allowed to do planned-obsolescence, that it's perfectly legal for private equity to buy up homes, that medical education isn't free or highly-subsidized in the US in spite of the massive, slow-moving crash that is our lack of doctors...

These are not EASY problems (well. they are. usually they are solved with money and regulations applied correctly), but by fucking god they're the problems that could be legislated to make your life better. The functioning role of government is to pass fucking laws and protect citizens and improve their lives. But it has become SO NORMAL that we have a dysfunctional government that we're so used to life sucking in all these little ways.

Yes, there are the big ones - student loans, minimum wage, healthcare, gun control etc etc... but like, life COULD be better in other ways too, if the government would fucking DO something (if Republicans were not in office). The last major piece of "clear, everyday life-improving" legislation that passed was the ACA - and even with that, instead of making things BETTER, congress (Republicans, of course, let's again name them) spent several sessions trying to KILL the last good thing the US government ever did for its citizens.

I'm not saying dems would be perfect if they could sweep this election, but go look at what Minnesota managed to do with a one-vote majority, and then think of the way our lives could be better in small ways too.

Vote, etc. I'm so exhausted of all of this.

[so-true-overdue]

Brace yourself: we're doing a stellar job of dismantling the only planet capable of supporting human life.

Yes, that's right, Earth—our exquisite, one-of-a-kind, self-regulating biosphere that’s been the pinnacle of life's delicate emergence—now teeters under the weight of our ambition. Fueled by the reckless combustion of fossil fuels, industrial expansion, and a blatant disregard for sustainability, we're watching as the very foundation of our existence erodes. But don't worry, this isn't just a brief aberration in geological history; no, this is a masterpiece of human ingenuity gone awry.

To grasp the magnitude of this unfolding calamity, one must first consider the concept of fugacity, that delightful term encapsulating the ephemerality of existence. It’s the perfect descriptor for the fragile and transient equilibrium of our climate—an equilibrium which, let’s be clear, took billions of years to form and is currently being obliterated in a geological blink of an eye. The atmosphere, once a stable cocoon nurturing life, is now a volatile canvas of human-induced perturbation. Carbon dioxide levels are rising exponentially, global temperatures are creeping higher year after year, and yet, somehow, we still cling to the notion that our actions aren't having cataclysmic consequences.

The irony is palpable: we are the architects of our own obsolescence. Nature, which has endured the great extinctions, the tectonic shifts, and the cosmic collisions, may endure long after we've relegated ourselves to a mere footnote in its history. But our window of habitability? That is what's fugacious. Our insatiable thirst for consumption has rendered the planet’s future transient, fleeting, and rapidly deteriorating.

So, congratulations, humanity! We’ve taken what was a miraculous, life-sustaining environment, and in a mere few centuries, we've managed to fashion it into a precarious, ticking time bomb. But, by all means, let’s continue to debate the “validity” of human-caused climate change, as if the planet itself isn’t screaming the truth from every hurricane, wildfire, and collapsing ice sheet.

[daniel-profeta]

The Head

There was a place between sleep and wakefulness where anything could be possible. A haze of forgotten dreams and lost promises. Her hands hung out of the window and the gleeful grin on her face was infectious. She floated between states of being completely alive and nearly dead, but right then she was whole. He smiled back and sped up as the car careened across the mountainside. The world was awash in pink as the sun set. The trees opened on one side to give way to the entire countryside with the dead city just beyond it. It was all so real; they could almost reach out and touch it.

In a past world they were barely friends, but shared experience can bring people together in a way nothing else can. He was well acquainted with this concept already as his parents had bonded over their mutual hatred of their absent father figures. He had always hoped he could break the cycle, but some patterns are more universal than anyone could have imagined.

For example, the cycle of life had finally taken a turn and allowed something new to become apex. Finally, something had surpassed the limits of human ability and taken the worms out. All that remained were ruins and some survivors. Small communities of huddled forms abounded in the wilderness, and they both knew some humans had been kept alive in the cities. All that was left was to hide and wait for death. Or so thought most survivors.

Not them, not these humans, they had taken advantage of the situation and had risen. With gallons of stockpiled gasoline, stolen weapons, food reserves, and ingenuity, they were rulers of the wasteland. They found each other and found a hope that lasted beyond anything they had yet experienced. They were one of the few who managed to carve out a life beyond simple survival, they had become explorers of a new world filled with wonders and powerful entities just beyond the layers of hopeless chaos. They were heading to the dead city to try and loot it and see what they could learn. It seemed every place they found had a story to tell regarding the end of times. He put his foot down further and they sped up.

They had become each other's shadows. In everything they did they fed off each other’s energy and had almost become one person. At first working together was difficult, but with practice they had gotten so good it seemed impossible to stop them. He would rather go a week without food or water than go a week without her company, and thanks to current circumstances that exact scenario had occurred on multiple occasions. He couldn’t believe she had stuck with him for so long, and in everything they shared everything. Except for one twisted secret.

He was dying.

Something had taken hold of him inside and he had no idea what it was. He believed he had contracted it in the bunker they had stormed a few months prior, but where he got sick was immaterial. Last week the coughs had gotten worse, and he had started coughing up blood. Earlier today he found himself coughing up what looked like black sludge. His body, once strong and lean, was weakening. He could feel his brain burning and shriveling as his eyes stung every time he tried to close them. He couldn’t sleep.

She knew something was wrong and had asked him about it, but he had lied repeatedly to try and protect her from the knowledge she would soon be alone. He somehow knew in his heart this disease would finish him; it was something inevitable. He just had to try to hold on as long as possible.

They made their way down the mountainside, and through the tall grasses that paved the way to the city as well as any road. They had gotten incredibly lucky with the car they had found; it was built to last decades. Most recent car models were victims of planned obsolescence and were vastly overpriced, but the rich had vehicles most could never dream of. No longer. Now it belonged to the strongest and the smartest.

Darkness snuck up on the world slowly and like a wave descended and crashed onto the city, illuminating through polarity the small fires still sending smoke signals up into the dry night air. As they entered the core of the city, they felt alive. Her hand crept over to his and squeezed. Driving through the empty city at night was almost romantic in a strange way. Despite everything, they still existed. Despite all the world had been through, they had found and sustained each other through love and devotion.

Parking the car and looking up at the towering skyscrapers, they were struck by how small they were in comparison to these edifices of human achievement that were slowly eroding and falling into the ground. The earth would swallow them up and time would roll on by, totally unbothered by their presence. It was freeing and exhilarating, because with this knowledge comes the idea that one can live life for the joy of living beyond the idea of constraint and boundaries. There is nothing but the never ending potential of endless wonders, and the only sadness could be regret that you don’t have time to see even the smallest fraction of them. All that was inconsequential all along is revealed. Everything comes to an end, and it was foolish to ever try to convince themselves otherwise.

There was a faint sound carried by the wind from a far distant part of the city. It sounded like a distorted voice being carried aloft by a long-broken loudspeaker, probably a forgotten loop of the old advertisements that would constantly play to remind people to consume till they could actively consume no more. Then they would be shunted aside.

Their lips met and lingered, the doors opened, and they exited in tandem, armed and ready for anything that might come their way. There were not many humans who could say they had killed one of the creatures. They had killed many of them in that bunker where he had gotten sick…

They started to search the rubble and inside smaller buildings for anything useful. Small radios kept them in contact as they split up and moved slowly through the ruins like cats on the prowl. Focus was razor sharp. They could see their breath in the cold of the night. Days had been slowly growing colder and colder since the sun had begun to shrink.

He suddenly was wracked with self-doubt and faltered as the sickness almost overcame him. He knew he did not deserve this situation. Why was it he who managed to survive and not someone who needed to? Before the end came, he hadn’t had any direction in life, and he actively felt life had no purpose or reason to it. He couldn’t stand to look at himself in a mirror, he felt as though this body was not his own. He was not really that great of a person, but he had been forced by either hidden courage or simple instinct to adapt and stay alive.

Now he had a girl who would die to protect him, and he would do the same for her. But he couldn’t help but feel as though there was no reason it was he who made it this far. As he stopped to catch his breath, he realized that - in a way - he was happy he had gotten sick. He felt it was justified if he died.

Her voice, distorted yet obviously excited, came blowing out of the radio to inform him she had found something. He smiled at the thought of her. It had not been easy for her, yet she had retained her enthusiasm for life and living despite the circumstances. Mostly.

Occasionally, there would be mood swings where she would feel like she was completely worthless and attempt to take her own life. Thankfully, they balanced each other out and kept each other's doubt and self-hatred in check. It was a system that might work better if he was as honest with her as she was with him. But that is something he felt he couldn’t do.

As he moved quickly to her position, he tried to imagine life without her. Life without her smile. Without her daily kindness and thoughtfulness. Without her unconditional love. Without her soul staying beside his.

He coughed again.

She rushed to him and they embraced beneath an awning of sheer metal hanging out over what looked to have formerly been a restaurant of some kind. Her hug was warm and bracing and his worries left him, at least at that time.

She was holding a Journal that was wrapped in some strange animal skin. He ran his hands over it and asked her what it was. She told him it was either crocodile or alligator, but it might have been fake. Not that it mattered, the book itself was real. She had discovered it in a single-story home that had remained mostly intact. She opened it and showed him what she had been reading.

The name signed inside the front cover was nearly illegible, but after staring at it for a few seconds he thought it read “Rick.” He took the book and started flipping through it. It felt strange to hold, as if it were cursed. Evil. It was only a teenager’s diary, and it felt like an invasion of privacy to even be reading it. But there was no helping it, any discovery of what had caused the end of the world was worth it. What had happened leading up to it? Why had the sun gotten smaller? How did civilization collapse so quickly?

As she realized the book felt odd, she started looking around them and felt increasingly that something was invading them. They were not cats, they were mice. Insidious and slimy, it crept within and caught hold. Despair was setting in, and something weird was happening in the sky above them. The stars had gone black.

Looking up, they felt a sickly turning in their stomachs as long tendrils or ropes began to descend from the sky. These eerie tentacles were like nothing else these naïve humans had viewed before and following them up with their eyes found no place where the dead hanging ropes could originate from. It just seemed like they went up into the sky forever. Slowly lowering down to choke any fool caught in the grasp of self-doubt.

A split second of hesitation almost destroyed them both at once, but the universe had other plans for them. They stared in awe and fear at the slender limbs as more and more slowly appeared in the inky black sky. Then he grabbed her hand and bolted for the rubble of the home she had found the book in. In the air behind them small floating lights started opening and illuminating the large gaping pores on the falling limbs with a cold and calculating pale light. Daring to look back revealed the lights were darting alien eyeballs suspended at random points in the air, slowly floating and all staring at these idiot humans who got far too overconfident.

She slammed the rusty door shut as the sound of the loudspeakers in the distance faded, replaced by a single repeating sound that continually rang out at seemingly timed intervals. The sound was that of the chiming of a bell; small, sharp, and eager to annoy with its piercing yell. They had heard this sound before, and both knew they were going to die. It was not a matter of if, but a matter of when and how gruesomely. His sickness was starting to overtake him.

They locked their eyes together and realized they were going to be stuck in the dilapidated house for a while. Long enough to at least learn from the diary of Mr. Rick. Maybe it would reveal something secret information they could use to escape this god-forsaken place? At the very least it would pass the time before their fates were sealed. They moved furniture into position to block the door, but soon heard a strange hissing sound coming from outside. It was the sound of acid devouring or water being eviscerated by fire. The things outside were trying to get in. But what the humans did not know was they already had gotten in..

listen to the song I wrote to accompany this story.

[avenchbklnk]

The Myriad Benefits of opting offshore development center (ODC) services.

[probablyasocialecologist]

“Growth” under capitalism is a bit of a misnomer: it’s the correct word, just not the correct usage. Capitalist growth is better understood as “a growth,” that is to say, “an abnormal proliferation of tissue (such as a tumor),” rather than the implied meaning, “progressive development.” That is because capitalism has a single, completely amoral value: profit maximization. It is incapable of caring about anything else, and it does not pause even if the consequences of capitalist growth threaten capitalism itself, such as in the case of climate collapse. As a result, capitalist growth and human needs only align incidentally: if capitalism creates things that humans require—food, clothing, shelter—this is not because humans need them, but because they offer the highest possible average return on capital invested under specific circumstances (all investment options are not available to all capitalists, so while higher returns may be possible elsewhere, they are not accessible to all; this is a key reason why “the rich get richer.”) As a consequence, there is no inherent alignment between capital’s lone priority—maximizing profit—and human priorities: subsistence, joy, a viable biosphere, etc. The result is immense, unnecessary suffering and degradation: billions starve because preserving their lives is not more profitable than investing in guns, water is made undrinkable because doing so improves stock prices, our air is poisoned to keep industrial firms afloat, our lives are made meaningless and empty in pursuit of someone else's profits. Ultimately, capitalism is a doomsday machine, the architect of its own destruction and ours, too. Like a tumor, it never stops growing, robotically creating unneeded tissue that eventually kills its host & itself. This is our fate if we do not stop capitalism.

[...]

The only way to fix this is to reduce economic activity overall, even as we grow underdeveloped sectors. This is called degrowth. The word may sound austere until you consider that much of our activity under capitalism is useless or destructive or both. We will not be impoverished by having less busy work or toxic garbage or weapons of war or advertising or planned obsolescence, we will be enriched by it. Having fewer managers and lawyers and mortgage brokers and insurance adjusters and health care administrators and HR specialists will be a relief, both for them and for the rest of us. People do not actually enjoy producing bullshit—they feel the emptiness of their work strongly, in fact—but they need to sell their labor to survive under capitalism. Despite the overall reduction in economic activity called for by degrowth, it paradoxically offers us much more than capitalism. It does this because it is oriented towards human need, rather than profit and productivity. If a good life could be measured by the quantity of energy and resources used by the economy, then capitalism might indeed triumph. But the two issues raised above—the vacuous, precarious nature of life under capitalism, and its inability to stay within planetary boundaries—mean that is incapable of offering a good life even to the most privileged among us.

[eyeofnewtblog]

So, my dad does a bridge school at the university he teaches at (his is held in January and is a 4 day refresher course for professionals) but honestly, any one young who is interested in civil engineering…making popsicle stick bridges is where it starts.

The number one question is always “how much stupidity/natural disaster can you build against with the budget you’ve been given” and then the construction workers get to the design and go “oh fuck this engineer, he’s never spent a single day on the job site”

One, female engineers are always eager and encouraged early on, but then they run into the Good Old Boys Club. My dad is in the Club, kind of, but he literally married a female engineer back in the 80’s and is pretty upset when women drop out of the major or (like my mom) constantly run into issues where misogyny is a major factor (screaming tantrums out of a 50+ man) in upper management.

Two, construction workers who are handed the materials list and the blueprint are 90% of the time complaining about the fact that while they’re given the most “efficient” design for structural integrity and materials, they’re going to be labor intensive to either maintain, install, or repair.

Take the 2002 Volkswagen Beetle. What fucking engineer decided to put the steering fluid pump line OVER the timing belt? It DOES make the engine more compact. It does. It also requires, as part of regular maintenance, that you UNPLUG a line that is an absolute bitch to reconnect, and should only require maintenance or repair once every two years, to be disconnected JUST so that you can replace a belt that needs to be replaced “as needed” which really just means once a year if you buy the cheapest replacement.

And engineers DO THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS. Their job is to weigh costs of maintenance, repair, sustainability.

But the reality is that if they get paid big bucks to come up with “the most efficient design” they’ll also, as part of their licensing, be required to report the drawbacks of said design.

To be fair, some inefficient aspects only pop up after manufacturing the product. But the fact remains that corporations deliberately ignore stated engineering concerns or warnings based on aesthetic, planned obsolescence, etc. That, or manufacturing costs cause corporations to deliberately ignore engineering manufacturing requirements for a design from the very start.

Or! Plus, there really is a more efficient design and the market hasn’t caught on yet! This happens with aftermarket car parts a lot.

I guess long story short, I’m very happy that these girls are getting to test out legit bridge designs and that they have the same experiences my dad gave me and my sisters (every single science experiment issued by a teacher was met with “do you wanna build bridges or test concrete? A shrug is not a choice, here’s a quarter, heads for concrete tails for bridges.”) and while I have absolutely zero interest in building bridges or testing the strength of concrete as a living, I’m really glad that someone is making it an interesting group project for young people. I’m also glad that I was raised by engineers and am capable of thinking logically about structural integrity and cost management.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

A New Dawn for Air Quality in Brazil

As researchers, our role often involves identifying and highlighting flaws and obsolescence in environmental policies. However, it is equally important to acknowledge and commend notable advancements, regardless of political affiliations. One such advancement is the recent implementation of Brazil's National Air Quality Policy (PNQAr), officially unveiled at a prestigious event on June 27, 2024, in Brasília.1 This event marked an important moment in Brazil's environmental policy, offering clarity and direction in the nation's approach to air quality management.

Since 1990, with the promulgation of the first resolution by the National Environment Council (CONAMA) concerning air quality standards—CONAMA Resolution number 03/1990—and the subsequent update in CONAMA Resolution number 491/2018, Brazil has struggled with ambiguous goals, undefined deadlines, and a lack of accountability in meeting proposed air quality limits.2,3 Historically, Brazil has lagged behind international standards, adopting WHO guidelines years after their recommendation, as evidenced by the 2018 adoption of the 2005 WHO standards. The introduction of PNQAr and the proposed revision of the legal framework regarding air quality, now enacted through the publication of CONAMA Resolution number 506/2024 on July 5, 2024,4 mean a policy shift in Brazil's commitment to air quality (figure).

Established by Federal Law number 14.850/2024, PNQAr sets forth principles, objectives, instruments, and guidelines for managing air quality across the entire nation.5 This law applies to all entities responsible for air quality management, pollution control, and emitting atmospheric pollutants. Crucially, the law underscores Brazil's intention to expand its air quality monitoring network, going beyond just a few urban areas to regions with recognised high emission activities and other identified risk areas, and aligns with the objectives of the UN 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development concerning air pollution. The CONAMA Resolution number 506/2024 includes specific timelines for achieving interim targets: Interim Target 1 will remain effective until the end of 2024, with subsequent interim targets set for 2025, 2033, and 2044. The final target, aligned with the 2021 WHO guidelines, will have an implementation date set by CONAMA in the future.4 Although these advancements are commendable, it is clear that the proposed revision still has room for improvement. Considering 2044 is 20 years away, new WHO guidelines will probably be released before then, potentially rendering the proposed objectives out-of-date. Therefore, from the current perspective, the air quality goals of the final target are sufficient and ambitious; however, the delays in reaching these interim and final targets is concerning. In an ideal scenario, the deadlines would be more ambitious to ensure Brazil's path to being at the forefront of air quality standards.

Continue reading.

[mariacallous]

The phone or computer you’re reading this on may not be long for this world. Maybe you’ll drop it in water, or your dog will make a chew toy of it, or it’ll reach obsolescence. If you can’t repair it and have to discard it, the device will become e-waste, joining an alarmingly large mountain of defunct TVs, refrigerators, washing machines, cameras, routers, electric toothbrushes, headphones. This is “electrical and electronic equipment,” aka EEE—anything with a plug or battery. It’s increasingly out of control.

As economies develop and the consumerist lifestyle spreads around the world, e-waste has turned into a full-blown environmental crisis. People living in high-income countries own, on average, 109 EEE devices per capita, while those in low-income nations have just four. A new UN report finds that in 2022, humanity churned out 137 billion pounds of e-waste—more than 17 pounds for every person on Earth—and recycled less than a quarter of it.

That also represents about $62 billion worth of recoverable materials, like iron, copper, and gold, hitting e-waste landfills each year. At this pace, e-waste will grow by 33 percent by 2030, while the recycling rate could decline to 20 percent. (You can see this growth in the graph below: purple is EEE on the market, black is e-waste, and green is what gets recycled.)

“What was really alarming to me is that the speed at which this is growing is much quicker than the speed that e-waste is properly collected and recycled,” says Kees Baldé, a senior scientific specialist at the United Nations Institute for Training and Research and lead author of the report. “We just consume way too much, and we dispose of things way too quickly. We buy things we may not even need, because it's just very cheap. And also these products are not designed to be repaired.”

Humanity has to quickly bump up those recycling rates, the report stresses. In the first pie chart below, you can see the significant amount of metals we could be saving, mostly iron (chemical symbol Fe, in light gray), along with aluminum (Al, in dark gray), copper (Cu), and nickel (Ni). Other EEE metals include zinc, tin, and antimony. Overall, the report found that in 2022, generated e-waste contained 68 billion pounds of metal.

E-waste is a complex thing to break down: A washing machine is made of totally different components than a TV. And even for product categories, not only do different brands use different manufacturing processes, but even different models within those brands vary significantly. A new washing machine has way more sensors and other electronics than one built 30 years ago.

Complicating matters even further, e-waste can contain hazardous materials, like cobalt, flame retardants, and lead. The report found that each year, improperly processed e-waste releases more than 125,000 pounds of mercury alone, imperiling the health of humans and other animals. “Electronic waste is an extremely complex waste stream,” says Vanessa Gray, head of the Environment and Emergency Telecommunications Division at the UN’s International Telecommunication Union and an author of the report. “You have a lot of value in electronic waste, but you also have a lot of toxic materials that are dangerous to the environment.”

That makes recycling e-waste a dangerous occupation. In low- and middle-income countries, informal e-waste recyclers might go door-to-door collecting the stuff. To extract valuable metals, they melt down components without proper safety equipment, poisoning themselves and the environment. The new report notes that in total, 7.3 billion pounds of e-waste is shipped uncontrolled globally, meaning its ultimate management is unknown and likely not done in an environmentally friendly way. Of that, high-income countries shipped 1.8 billion pounds to low- and middle-income countries in 2022, swamping them with dangerous materials.

High-income countries have some of this informal recycling, but they also have formal facilities where e-waste is sorted and safely broken down. Europe, for example, has fairly high formal e-waste recycling rates, at about 43 percent. But globally, recycling is happening nowhere near enough to keep up with the year-over-year growth of the waste. Instead of properly mining EEE for metals, humanity keeps mining more ore out of the ground.

Still, the report found that even the small amount of e-waste that currently gets recycled avoided the mining of 2 trillion pounds of ore for virgin metal in 2022. (It takes a lot of ore to produce a little bit of metal.) The more metals we can recycle from e-waste, the less mining we’ll need to support the proliferation of gadgets. That would in turn avoid the greenhouse gases from such mining operations, plus losses of biodiversity.

The complexity of e-waste, though, makes it expensive to process. As the chart above shows, even an ambitious scenario of a formal e-waste collection rate in 2030 is 44 percent. “There is no business case for companies to just collect e-waste and to make a profit out of this in a sustainable manner,” says Baldé. “They can only survive if there is legislation in place which is also compensating them.”

The report notes that 81 countries have e-waste policies on the books, and of those, 67 have provisions regarding extended producer responsibility, or EPR. This involves fees paid by manufacturers of EEE that would go toward e-waste management.

Of course, people could also stop throwing so many devices away in the first place, something right-to-repair advocates have spent years fighting for. Batteries, for instance, lose capacity after a certain number of charge cycles. If a phone can’t hold a charge all day anymore, customers should be able to swap in a new battery. “Manufacturers shouldn't be able to put artificial limitations on that ability,” says Elizabeth Chamberlain, director of sustainability at iFixit, which provides repair guides and tools. That includes limiting access to parts and documentation. “Repair is a harm-reduction strategy. It's not the be-all-end-all solution, but it's one of many things we need to do as a global society to slow down the rate at which we're demanding things of the planet.”

At the core of the e-waste crisis is the demand: A growing human population needs phones to communicate and fridges to keep food safe and heat pumps to stay comfortable indoors. So first and foremost we need high-quality products that don’t immediately break down, but also the right to repair when they do. And what absolutely can’t be fixed needs to move through a safe, robust e-waste recycling system. “We are consuming so much,” says Baldé, “we cannot really recycle our way out of the problem.”

[eightyonekilograms]

In addition to the disciplined disobedience required to execute effective mission command, the US Army is facing a dire combination of a recruiting shortfall and a shrinking Individual Ready Reserve. This recruiting shortfall, nearly 50 percent in the combat arms career management fields, is a longitudinal problem. Every infantry and armor soldier we do not recruit today is a strategic mobilization asset we will not have in 2031. The Individual Ready Reserve, which stood at 700,000 in 1973 and 450,000 in 1994, now stands at 76,000. These numbers cannot fill the existing gaps in the active force, let alone any casualty replacement or expansion during a large-scale combat operation. The implication is that the 1970s concept of an all-volunteer force has outlived its shelf life and does not align with the current operating environment. The technological revolution described below suggests this force has reached obsolescence. Large-scale combat operations troop requirements may well require a reconceptualization of the 1970s and 1980s volunteer force and a move toward partial conscription.

(emphasis mine)

This is a couple people writing a report and does not represent anyone's official opinion, but considering that the longtime stance of the U.S. military has been that conscription isn't useful for an advanced mechanized force, while "bring back the draft" was an opinion limited to fringe politicians and thinkpiece writers, this seems worth paying attention to.

[sirfrogsworth]

Oh god, please don't do this.

Update your phone.

Maybe an argument can be made to wait a week or two just in case there are bugs in the new update, but updates are crucial to your phone's security. Updating apps is also part of that security. Unless it is an app that has no internet requirement, you need to keep them current. And if an app is no longer being supported or updated, you should probably move on to the next best thing. Even if that sucks sometimes.

And I hate to defend Apple all the time, but you cannot make current judgments based on the freakin' iPhone 4. Apple currently makes some of the longest lasting products on the market. Not only that, they support those products with software updates for pretty much their entire lifespan. Google and Samsung were being praised this year for promising 5 and 7 years of updates. Apple has been doing this for years now. They never put a number on it, but if a phone can run the software, they support it.

In fact, the big story about Apple slowing down phones is always presented as them wanting people to buy new phones, but in that case they were actually trying to extend the life of people's devices. If they hadn't throttled the CPU, the battery would have bricked a bunch of phones. Their error was not disclosing what they were doing. They got sued for that and rightly so. All people needed was a battery swap and they'd be back to full speed. It's ridiculous that Apple didn't just disclose that from the beginning.

Also, the days of phones getting too old to run new software are pretty much over. Moore's Law is slowing down and phones are incredibly powerful and anything within the last 5 years or so will probably last 7 to 10 years if you take care of it. Depending on your use, you might need a battery swap, but you should only need to replace your phone sooner if there are features you absolutely need in the new model.

Apple's big sin is not planned obsolescence but repairability. Their products are well made. They last a long time. And they tend to have fewer manufacturing defects than other brands. (In general. Your anecdotal experiences will vary.)

But... shit happens.

People drop things. They spill things. They abuse things. And when they break, you shouldn't have to get a whole new thing. Apple seems to have poorly trained diagnostic staff who commonly tell people their device cannot be repaired when the diagnosis is not apparent. Or they will misdiagnose something with a super expensive repair when it is actually a minor fix. (Which is why experienced repair shops exist and should be supported by Apple.) Apple has tried to micro-manage the repair process of their devices to such a degree that it has sparked an entire advocacy movement.

But don't let Google, Samsung, etc off the hook either. They suck too. If you are using Android thinking you have some moral high ground, they either do the same shit or they do slightly different shit that is just as bad.

Not to mention, Google is an advertising company. I don't understand people who are like, "Apple is evil, so I'm going to use this advertising platform instead." It's a lateral move, at best.

No good guys in capitalism, folks.

At minimum, repair shops should be able to use spare parts from broken devices to fix salvageable ones. And Apple is literally pairing screens and chips to one device so they can't be used to fix others. It's... diabolical.

So, update your phones.

Apple is bad at repairability but is good as far as planned obsolescence goes. Although when computers and phones eventually are able to last for 20 years, we'll see if that changes. For now, they make things that last until you fumble them into the toilet bowl and *that* is when they start to suck.

If you need a good villain to talk about planned obsolescence, I would go with Samsung appliances.