#because they can't get their Starbucks

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I just really fucking hate how twn has worked so hard to reinstall the toxic masculinity into the Witchers. They just went ahead and shat all over the opportunity to construct a sensitive examination of the working class man, their trauma, their vulnerabilities, their flaws and their goodness.

Their honest to fuck goodness.

You know, the men who smile at a little girl to make her feel at ease, the ones who discuss the women and children left behind by war for the monsters, the ones that Ciri thinks fondly of at her lowest.

I really hate the twn interpretation of them . Gives me the ick. Especially when the fucking upper class villains/aristocracy get their storylines sanitised and uwu-ified for sympathy. Are you shittin' me about Eredin right now?

Yes. Feel sorry for the rich elf dude, but those orphan Witchers that were stripped from their homes and experimented on? Nah man, they're just drunk, sexist dudebros in it for le coin. The first one? Yeah, his sob story is he got caught fuckin the wrong person, lololol.

[pettyprocrastination]

whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 

He became a smuggler because of it. 

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 

“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 

All he can do is nod. 

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 

“One.” 

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.” 

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 

“Four.” 

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 

[naomiknight-17]

My brother said something the other day about how no-one could prove if the current anti-Israel boycotts are actually making an impact cuz there could be other reasons people aren't eating at McDonald's or whatever

But besides the fact that there are many articles easily find-able online saying that the companies are aware of and feeling the impact of such protests, and some are even making some changes, I needed to make a point to him about why I participate in boycotts whether they're successful or not

But my brother tends to get annoyed and stop listening whenever I talk real politics, so I tried to make a really simple analogy

Let's say there's a man outside our house, and he is just beating people to death with sticks. Not people from our neighborhood, but still, people. We can't call the cops to stop him, because they think he's doing a great job. And we can close the blinds and ignore him, but he's still there and we know it.

And he has a big pile of sticks, so when one breaks he can get another to beat the next person to death with

So one day you have to go outside and the man turns to you and says, "Hey. Can you pass me a stick?"

And maybe it doesn't matter if you do or not. Maybe someone else will give him a stick anyway, or he'll get one on his own, or he'll start punching people

But I don't want to give him a stick.

And maybe I can't stop him, but I at least don't want to help him

At this point my brother tried to make a joke (because that's what he always does in every conversation) and he said something like "What if you don't give him the stick and then he beats YOU to death"

And I was like, "That's a great point, actually, because the Yemeni wouldn't let weapons shipments through their waterways so Israel bombed them."

And the analogy was broken but. I hope I made my point

Maybe I don't have the power as an individual half a world away to stop a genocide. But I at least want to not contribute to it

[mosscrab]

mgsv has so many literary references to books i have essays abt it kind of makes me.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

in my pursuit to find a coffee place besides starbucks i've stumbled across a place that not only has my heart because they have asiago bagels (that they put the cream cheese on for me and everything) but they also have something called chai cola?? which is......exactly what it sounds like and it's absolutely delicious!!!

[bassia-bassensis]

A Friend of mine told me that their principal in s*udi@ came into their class and told them that they shouldn't boycott because that will hurt the country and that they should instead praise their little prince.

[willowcrowned]

once again the fact that all the non-starbucks cafes around here close at 6 is personally hacking my body to pieces

[thedissociatives]

whoa my phone's sorta fixed itself again

[thursdayglrl]

the brain when it fogs:

[outlying-hyppocrate]

it is my birthday. happy birthday to me i guess

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[harmonybarmy]

I'm so fucking infuriating I'm literally drinking three drinks at once right now

[genderqueerdykes]

poverty is so isolating. it means being alone and away from people, events, society. you can't afford trips to and from places. you can't afford to spare gas. you can't afford the entrance fee. you can't afford tickets. you can't afford making eating a social event. you can't buy drinks. you can't engage in hobbies.

all you're encouraged to do are "free" things, but they're not free. Internet isn't free. cell phone service isn't free. sitting on the computer and your phone all day is frowned upon for good reason because it destroys your health. we shouldn't have to only be able to talk to people digitally to be able to socialize. we shouldn't have to watch streams all day. we need to see other people, i DON'T care if it costs a few dollars: poor people shouldn't be relegated to what few free activities there are because most of them involve being alone.

the library is one of the most annoying suggestions because it makes you feel pinned. yes i want to support my local library. i cannot sit still and read in public. it is not socially acceptable to start taking to strangers in the library in fact you can't have conversations there at all because you need to be quiet for the other readers. libraries are places of education, accessibility to information and resources, and social services. it is not a place to socialize. maybe entertain but Only if you can, well, read. i have dissociative disorders and unmedicated ADHD, i don't make it very far into books. i feel like most poor people get really tired of the library suggestion. it's an amazing resource. but it's not for this purpose

social events are almost always off limits. sure you can go to the bar and not drink, if you don't have alcohol trauma, aren't a recovering alcoholic, aren't overstimulated by noise, aren't photosensitive, don't have anxiety with crowds and strangers, aren't a minor, have an ID, and can walk there or get a ride there. sure you can walk to the cafe and use their Wi-Fi but this isn't a social activity and in many places you can't sit there for long periods unless you buy anything.

i get SO tired of the "go to a cafe" suggestion. think about how boring that actually is. you're alone. in America, it is NOT socially acceptable to sit at a strangers table like it is in other countries, let alone just start talking to them. it is NOT a common experience to strike up a conversation with strangers in cafes in America, like we really have cafes other than fucking starbucks to begin with.

going for walks and going to parks is not accessible to people with physical disabilities, agoraphobia, some schizophrenics, people with dog trauma, and other issues. parks usually have really poorly maintained or no sidewalks or foot paths. they can be uneven and hard to traverse for people who use mobility aids. unless you live near a monument or state park, your local parks are really meant for dogs to piss and shit in, for joggers to run through, and to look impressive to investors. they're usually pathetic swaths of grass with you guessed it, nothing to do. again it's rare to strike up conversation at the park. people need conversation starters. there's Nothing going on at the park. it's a great place to go if you need to cool down when angry or stressed, but it's fucking boring.

window shopping is pointless and dehumanizing. i really can't stand it when people suggest poor people window shop so we can think about things to buy when we have money ... why the fuck would i ever do that. when i don't have money i don't think about frivolous things i don't need. what the fuck kind of activity is window shopping, that's for people who have money.

poor people get tired of doing the "free" shit. if you suggest that a poor person should do these things when you do none of them yourself, you have 0 clue how boring and dehumanizing it is to never be able to decide what you do with your time. to have limited options to live. to experience.

money is not the reason you get to experience; you get to experience because you are alive. no poor people don't deserve to sit there and do nothing all day because they didn't "earn" anything. no poor people don't deserve to live their lives because they don't make as much as you. poor people deserve to enjoy being alive. poor people get to decide to have fun with their money, too.

I'm so tired of people being so harsh on people who struggle with financial issues and spending money "right" or "smart". reckless spending and difficulty managing finances are symptoms of mental illness and neurodivergence. bipolar, personality disorders, schizophrenia, anxiety, autism, ADHD, OCD and other mental health conditions can make managing funds very hard. don't be extra cruel to someone who spends money poorly in response to a mental health crisis. this won't make their situation any easier.

i sat in apartment after apartment for a decade doing nothing. i was a total shut in because i had no money. i never did anything but browse the Internet. all day long. without end. i was dissociating constantly. my anxiety was at its highest. i was constantly psychotic. instead of going out to fix it, i would stay inside longer, making it worse and worse and worse. i never bought anything. i didn't have hobbies. all of my decorations and possessions were from my childhood, my clothes were literally falling apart, a decade old. my walls were barren. my world was grey.

don't do this to yourself. don't tell yourself that you deserve nothing because it's harder for you to make money than other people. I'm very lucky now that i have made friends who pulled me out of my shell and have helped me get outside of my house. i spent so long alone and trapped indoors thinking it's the only thing i could do with myself for years. I'm finally recovering. if you're poor you deserve to live. you're alive. and you're not alone. i love you.

[drjdorr]

Got to love going to work and needing a coworker to inform me that something critical for me to do my job was moved, you know instead of management telling me.

[baku-usagi]

Boy howdy was work rough and maybe one could even say bad today :)

I wish billionaires still did that fun thing they used to do where they grabbed a suicidal Essentric artist and kept them as a pet to live in leisure and create because whew boy this whole capitalism thing is starting to kill me a little more every day

[lastoneout]

It really is kinda awful how many job listings will just straight up lie to you about what you "need" to be able to do to screen out disabled applicants. Like fucking Safeway will be looking for a cashier and the listing is like "you ABSOLUTELY MUST be able to stand for 8+ hours a day, NO exceptions" as if you can't do everything required to run the check out line sitting down. Old Navy is like "you must be able to understand body language and facial expressions and make eye contact" like sorry dude I think autistic people can sell t-shirts just fine without doing all that, like honestly what the hell does understanding facial expressions have to do with telling someone where the clearance section is. Don't really think the customers at TJ Max are going to go full Purge mode if one employee can only perform a task requiring fine motor skills 15 times a minute instead of 30, like idk maybe you don't need the lines to move thst fast actually. Maybe everyone can chill out and wait a second. I think the people at Starbucks will be okay if the barista isn't great at multitasking and can't make small talk with every single customer while also running the drive through and making 15 different drinks.

It's such horseshit, none of these job require these things but they can just lie and say they do and disabled people will clear out because we know it's just a big neon sign saying "crippled freaks need not apply", even if that sentence is followed by some fake ass fluff about you being an equal opportunity employer. Like you would not be insisting your underpaid cashiers be able to "make eye contact and understand body language" if you cared about not discriminating against disabled people, that wording specifically is straight out of the DSM-5, what you're doing is fucking obvious and pure goddam evil.

The best part too is then you get denied for SSI benefits because you "can" work, they don't actually care that every single job listing is tailor made to tell us to fuck right off. The potential to be able to work and actually being able to be hired are too different things entirely but sure. I can work. If I find an employer that doesn't care that I'm in a wheelchair and can't make eye contact or life heavy objects or that I need to only work 4 hours a day so I still have the energy to take care of myself outside of work and also have to take 10 days a month off for doctor's appointments and unpredictable health flares. And also crucially does NOT require a fucking degree or drivers license. Find me a job like that that and I'd be overjoyed to work.

But trust me, jobs that can accommodate me simply do not fucking exist, and unfortunately for all of us that is very much by design.