#corporate hippie

[kindsoulbuddy]

I saw this in r/decadeology:

100 Years of Designs

Which one is your favorite?

Part 1 of 2

(Least favorite?)

Part 1 of 2

[sillysymbol]

hello bro

[applesaucesims]

With another baby on the way, more space needed to be made for a nursery. Of course, Louis was unhappy with the idea of him having to share a room with the baby, while the girls were already sharing one with each other. Thus, the best solution was to expand the house with an additional room. For all the construction work that needed to be done, Niall had called up some professionals to help, who were doing a much better and faster job than they could have done on their own.

Other than that, the pregnancy had inspired Emma to think about her own path in life. She had noticed that the time either of the parents were spending with their children was very limited, and with a fourth on the way, things would become more difficult. Emma thrived in her role as a mother, and not being there for a children was a horrible thought.

All of this had finally led to her reconsidering her career choice. While she loved all the set painting she did for the film studio, it was not the same as coming up with her own themes. In fact, being tied down to specific themes given by the company was starting to not feel as inspiring as she originally thought. The little time she had left to herself to make her own paintings was much more creatively fulfilling in every way. Since it was never about the money for her, anyway, with Niall doing as well as ever in his career as an actor, quitting hers seemed to be the best decision in this situation. After some deliberation, she told her husband, before calling up the studio to make the final move.

[TRANSCRIPT]

*construction noise* *work chatter*

Emma: "Ni, can I talk to you about something?"

Niall: "Of course, what is it?"

Emma: "I've been thinking, and I don't know how we're going to take care of four children and our careers at the same time. We can barely manage the three!"

Niall: "What's your suggestion?"

Emma: "Well, you know I loved being able to make a profession of my art."

Niall: "Yes, but you like it at the studio, no?"

Emma: "I do. Or I did. But I think it would be best for me to quit."

Niall: "But..."

Emma: "I can still paint at home, maybe even sell some of it! It wouldn't be an issue, I promise. You make way more money, anyway. And I want to be here to watch our babies grow, you know?"

Niall: "And you're really sure that's what you want?"

Emma: "Absolutely! I've already made my decision."

Niall: "Then I won't be holding you back, my love."

[hushedhippie]

Worked the week (minus one day) sick as hell because the world is fucked and only cares about money money money!!!!

[star-reyes]

Survival Street: The Radical Left #3 Variant Cover by Artyom Tucović

[that-hippy-dippy-christian]

POV: Big Corporations Trying To Engage In Meme Culture.

(I’ll Give Duolingo A Pass Tho, Because They’re actually funny.)

[delusionalinsecurewreckpiningphd]

Personally dislike the fact that urban street is littered with corporate storefront and franchises as the ultimate goal of economic growth and modernity. Bring back indie local store, mom and pop shop, smes, for that chaotic all-over-the-place aesthetic and actual livelihood

[heatmiiiiser]

So I work at trader joes and as some of you may know TJS sells Israeli goods. Breads, cheeses, snacks, wine, etc. Wellllll recently there's been a big crackdown on lots of stuff especially individual expression. They took down our whiteboards and made it so that we aren't allowed to write on anything. We usually have chalk board lockers we can personalize and those have been replaced with sterile lockers we cannot personalize. We are also no longer allowed to wear bandanas because they have been used to make "political statements." I'm assuming they're referring to keffiyeh. I'm assuming this comes specifically from corporate trying to choke back and keep us from talking about Palestine.

I don't have much to say or any call to action other than maybe contact your trader joes or trader joes corporate and let them know how you feel about the sale of Israeli goods in their stores. Maybe also complain about how miserable your local trader joes employees seem as well. This company is always pretending to be so hippy dippy progressive but it's all for show. Don't fall for it.

[hellomegedwards]

Just a Sensible Idealist

Who is a hippy now?

I was approached by a friendly TTC worker in uniform on the subway in Toronto recently. At first he stood by a nearby pole and watched me for a bit, and then smiled. He was not young but not old, somewhere in that middle ground where they think about death a lot. I smiled back and he opened with “I wish I had been brought up in the sixties”. I would have liked to see my face expression. A wry…

[cathartictrash]

Someone write a Halstarion AU where Astarion is an environmental lawyer and Halsin is an activist and arborist. They initially dislike each other because Astarion views Halsin as "some granola hippie treehugger," and Halsin views Astarion as a "corporate cog." They fall in love slowly after meeting at a protest where Halsin chains himself to a tree, and Astarion speaks to the media about the facts of the case.

PLEASE.

[wildflowercryptid]

considering how similar both my farmers and spouses in awl & sdv are, i really need to draw them together at some point.

[blessphemy]

honestly Ratthi and Tarik must be having some interesting stuff going on.

socially intelligent hippie scientist from Socialism Planet who is good friends with a rogue corporate spyware/rent-a-cop-bot boinked ex-death-squad guy who is currently doing corporate subterfuge and colony release

the most workplace relationship ever

[fafnir19]

A child is born

The night air was crisp as Colin and Julia Copman, a wealthy and influential couple, stood in their lavish mansion, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The full moon illuminated the ancient spell book that lay open on the altar before them, its pages yellowed with age.

They had sought this moment for years. Julia, with her warm smile and gentle eyes, longed for a child to complete their family, but her body had other plans. Colin, determined to fulfill his wife's wish, scoured the earth for a solution. His relentless search led him to an ancient tome, promising to hold the key to their problem. On Halloween, in a clandestine ceremony, they gathered the peculiar ingredients. Julia's delicate hands held a small vial containing her blood, a contribution from the heart of the family. Colin, with his sharp features and determined gaze, provided his seed, a symbol of his ambition. To this mixture, they added peculiar elements: the spit of a renowned musical actor, ensuring their child's voice would captivate all who heard it; fingernails from a business tycoon, infusing the child with strategic acumen; and pubic hairs from a celebrated athlete, granting virility and strength. As the final ingredients were gathered, they turned their attention to the centerpiece of the ritual—a pristine white silk blanket. This fabric, soon to be the cradle of their creation, was laid upon the bed, its softness a stark contrast to the dark magic about to unfold. With trembling hands, they poured the concoction onto the silk, watching as it absorbed the essence of their desires. The once-white blanket slowly transformed, its color shifting to a deep, menacing black, mirroring the night sky. The room fell silent, the only sound the steady ticking of the clock, counting down to the birth of their creation. At the stroke of midnight, the blanket stirred. A ripple ran through the fabric, as if something were moving beneath it.

The Copmans held their breath, their eyes fixed on the growing lump. Then, with a final dramatic flourish, a young man emerged, sitting up and shaking off the silk like a newborn awakening from a deep slumber. Curly blond hair framed his face, and his shaved sides added a modern edge to his classic beauty. "Cohen," Julia whispered, her voice filled with awe and relief. Cohen's arrival was met with awe and adoration. He possessed an otherworldly charm that captivated everyone he encountered. Teachers, parents, and peers alike found themselves under his spell, their wills bending to his every word. His physical perfection was matched only by his intellect, making him the ultimate creation, tailored to dominate and succeed in every aspect of life. But beneath the flawless exterior, a dark purpose lurked.

At college, Cohen's path collided with Logan, the son of Jack, a tenant in one of the Copman's many properties. Logan, an average student, found himself both jeoulus and also repelled by Cohen. While Cohen exuded confidence, Logan struggled to find his place, often joining his father's protests against the Copman's gentrification plans.

"You know, Logan," Cohen purred during one of their sociology courses, "you have potential. With a little effort, you could be extraordinary." Logan scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "I don't need your fake compliments, Cohen. I know you're just trying to butter me up." Cohen's smile never wavered. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, my friend. Embrace your potential, and you might just find yourself on the winning side."

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dilapidated streets of their neighborhood. Jack stood at the front of a small gathering of protestors, their signs held high: “Save Our Homes!” and “No Gentrification!” He was the epitome of an old-school hippy, his spirit defiantly resisting the encroaching corporate world. The air was thick with the scent of autumn leaves and the determination of his fellow tenants. Jack’s long hair billowed in the chill breeze as he raised his voice, “We won’t let the Copmans erase our community for their profit!” “Yeah!” a voice shouted from the crowd. “Fight for our homes!”

When Jack came home Logan, his son, slumped on the worn couch in their small apartment, staring at the flickering light of the TV.

Jack leaned against the peeling paint of the apartment wall, the scent of damp and desperation clinging to him like a second skin. Outside, the city buzzed with the sounds of life—a siren wailing in the distance, the thud of boots on pavement, the distant laughter of college students. He rubbed his temples, the weight of the protest pressing heavily on his shoulders. “Dad, you really think this is going to change anything?” Logan asked, his voice a mixture of skepticism and resignation. “It has to, Logan. They can’t just bulldoze over our lives for a shiny new façade.” Jack’s voice was strained, tinged with the urgency of a man who had fought too long and too hard. Jack clenched his fists, his long hair falling into his eyes. “You’re going to have to work with Cohen on this college project. Use it to get information.” Logan grimaced, scrunching his face in distaste, “Ugh, Cohen? He’s the worst! He’s got that smug smile like he’s better than everyone else.” Jack sighed, his eyes narrowing. “Listen, son, he’s a tool, but you might find a way to use him. Charm and flatter him and you can gather intel on their plans.” Logan rolled his eyes, frustration boiling over. “And become his little puppet? No thanks. He’s insufferable!” “Cohen’s not just some rich kid; he’s a threat. We need to know what they’re planning.” Jack’s voice softened, knowing this was more than just a college project. ““Just try to be civil, you can do this, Logan. I believe in you…. and if he has a weakness, find it. We need every advantage we can get! ” “Fine.” Logan groaned, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “But if he starts talking about his fancy yacht or his stupid ties, I’m out.” Jack chuckled. “You’ll survive. Just remember, you’re the smart one here.”

The Copman mansion loomed before Logan like a dark thundercloud, its grandeur suffocating. As he stepped inside, the chill of the marble floors sent a shiver up his spine. Cohen was already there, lounging on a plush sofa, flipping through a textbook as though it were a mere magazine.

“Hey, Logan!” Cohen’s voice was smooth, almost syrupy. “Glad you could make it. We’re going to crush this project.” Logan forced a smile, feeling the weight of disdain settle in his stomach. “Let’s just get it over with.” “Come on, lighten up! You’re too smart to be so serious all the time,” Cohen said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “With a little effort, you could be quite the catch, you know?” “Yeah, right,” Logan shot back, crossing his arms. “I’d rather not be a puppet.” Cohen’s laughter echoed through the opulent room, a sound that felt foreign against the backdrop of Logan’s frustration. “Puppet? Nah, more like... a partner. Don’t you want to make a difference?” Logan rolled his eyes, but the unease in his gut only intensified. “Not with you.” “Why not?” Cohen leaned closer, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “I can help you find your voice. You just need to embrace what you’ve got.” Logan swallowed hard, feeling trapped in the thick web of Cohen’s charm. “I’m not your project, Cohen. I’m not here to be your sycophant.” Cohen’s smirk widened, revealing a hint of something darker. “Oh, I think you’ll find you’re more useful to me than you realize.” Logan shivered, an inexplicable chill creeping down his spine. He pushed the feeling aside, determined to keep his guard up. “Let’s just get this over with.” As they began their work, the air grew thick with tension and the stakes were rising higher.

The day dragged on, and as the sun began to set, Logan felt a sense of relief as they called it a day. He followed Cohen up a grand staircase to a luxurious guest room, complete with a king-sized bed adorned with white silk sheets and a black silk blanket. "I trust you'll be comfortable here," Cohen said, his voice smooth. "We'll start fresh in the morning." Logan nodded, grateful to be alone. He changed into his white pajamas and slid into the bed, the pillows enveloping him in comfort.

The next morning, the sun had barely crept over the horizon, casting a soft glow into the luxurious bedroom. Logan, still groggy from his restful sleep, stirred in the plush bed, his senses slowly awakening.

But as he moved, he felt something unusual—a sensation that made him snap into full alertness. The black blanket, once a comforting weight on his body, now seemed alive. It slithered, almost like a serpent, across his limbs, its dark fabric contrasting sharply with the white sheets and pillows. Logan's eyes widened as he watched, mesmerized and terrified, as the blanket enveloped him. It flowed over his body, transforming every piece of fabric it touched into the same lustrous black silk. The once-white pajamas he wore now matched the blanket's hue, hugging his frame as if tailored just for him. Panic seized him, and he struggled to free himself, his fingers frantically tugging at the silk pajama top. It clung stubbornly, as if reluctant to let him go, but with a final, desperate yank, he managed to tear it off, gasping for breath. He sank back into the pillows, his chest heaving, and stared down at his body. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed the changes. His stomach, once soft and unremarkable, now boasted a defined six-pack, and his entire physique had transformed into that of a Greek god.

Logan's fingers traced the contours of his new body, a mix of astonishment and pleasure washing over him. As he lay there, reveling in this unexpected metamorphosis, he felt a stirring below. His cock twitched, awakening to the soft caress of the silk. The sensation was electric, and he watched, his smirk growing wider, as his cock rose to attention, straining against the confines of his black silk pajama pants. It was as if his body had been reborn, and with it, a newfound confidence. *What a great cock... it's magnificent!* The thought echoed in his mind, and he couldn't help but agree. Such arrogance was unfamiliar to him, but it felt right, as if he had always been meant to be this way. He imagined the reaction of his peers, the envy in their eyes as they beheld his new physique and the bulge in his pants. *They'll all want me,* he thought, *chicks and guys alike.*

The bedroom door creaked open, interrupting Logan's musings. Cohen, his project partner and host, stood in the doorway, clad only in tight black silk shorts, his expression a mix of satisfaction and hunger. He took in the sight of Logan, sprawled on the bed, his legs spread, and the bulge in his pants evident. Cohen's lips curved into a smile, his plan unfolding perfectly. He approached the bed, his bare feet silent on the plush carpet. Without a word, he perched on the edge of the mattress, his hand reaching out to gently stroke Logan's hardening cock. The touch was electric, and Logan, who would have normally recoiled from such an advance, found himself relaxing into the sensation. Cohen's fingers, skilled and confident, began to work their magic, stroking and teasing, and Logan's body responded, his cock throbbing with need. The sensation of the silk against his hardening cock only added to the pleasure, and he watched with a newfound arrogance as Cohen stroked him with skilled hands. "Mmm..." Logan moaned softly, his eyes half-lidded as pleasure coursed through him.

Cohen's touch was electric, and Logan's thoughts were no longer his own. The values and beliefs he once held dear began to fade and the Copman family's desires and ambitions seeped into his mind, erasing his past life and replacing it with a new identity. Cohen's fingers worked their mastery, and Logan's body arched, his back pressing into the silk sheets. The room echoed with the sound of skin on silk, the rustle a sensual accompaniment to the dark ritual. "Yes... Oh, yes!" Logan's voice, now deeper and laced with confidence, filled the room. His breath came in short gasps, and his heart raced as the pleasure built. Cohen's plan was working; Logan's essence was being reshaped, his DNA rewritten with the Copman lineage. As Logan's climax neared, Cohen whispered, his breath hot against Logan's ear, "Soon, you will be reborn - as Logan Copman." "Ahh...!" Logan's cry of release was loud, his body convulsing as he shot his load into the silk. The sensation was intense, and for a moment, he felt a strange detachment, as if he were witnessing someone else's pleasure. The old Logan, his DNA, and his very soul were now just a cum spot  on the lustrious silk pajama pants and replaced by the Copman's linage. His once modest nature and humble background, was fading away. "Oh, fuck..." Logan panted, his eyes still closed, savoring the aftermath of his orgasm. Cohen's satisfied grin widened as he watched Logan's transformation. "Perfect," he murmured. "Just as planned." The black silk, as if sensing its master's desires, flowed around Logan's body, shaping itself into a stylish black suit, complete with a crisp white shirt and a black silk tie.

"Welcome, Logan Copman," Cohen said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Are you ready to embrace your destiny as the heir?" Logan turned, his eyes narrowing slightly at the mention of his name. "I've always been Logan Copman. Heir to the Copman empire. Why do you speak as if I'm new to this role?" His voice carried an air of arrogance, a trait he had never possessed before. Cohen's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light. Logan sat up, the black silk suit now fully formed, hugging his new muscular frame. The transformation was complete, and the old Logan was a distant memory, replaced by the arrogance and entitlement of the Copman family. "Of course, my dear boy," Cohen replied, his tone soothing. "You've always been destined for greatness. And now, it's time to claim your birthright." Logan stood, his movements graceful and confident. He adjusted himself in the tight silk pants, his cock now a source of pride and power. "I'm ready," he declared, his voice carrying an air of command. "Let's go, Cohen. I have a family business to attend to."

As Logan strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor, Colin Copman entered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Cohen approached him, bowing slightly. "Master Copman," he said, his voice filled with respect. "I have succeeded in my task. The final ingredient, a living boy, has been offered, and your heir is born." Colin's eyes narrowed, a mix of curiosity and satisfaction playing across his face. "You sacrificed the son of Jack, our tenant?" Cohen's grin widened, revealing a hint of sharp fangs. "Yes, and what a perfect choice he was.“ Colin's eyes widened slightly at the revelation. "And the boy, Logan, he is...?" "No more," Cohen replied, a sinister edge to his voice. " His essence has been completely overwritten. He is Logan Copman, through and through. The old Logan is nothing but a distant memory, a speck of dust in the wind.” Colin's laughter filled the corridor, a chilling sound that spoke of his malicious delight. "Excellent! I must admit, I'm pleased it was him. His father has been a thorn in our side for too long. You've done well, demon. The spell is complete, and our legacy is secured!" With a final bow, Cohen approached the black blanket, the portal to the demonic realms. "My task is done. I will return to the shadows, leaving the Copmans with their new heir." With that, Cohen moved swiftly, jumping onto the black blanket, which had been the catalyst for this dark magic. The fabric rippled, and in a flash of darkness, Cohen was gone and the blanket lay still, its purpose fulfilled. Colin stood alone, his eyes fixed on the spot where Cohen had been moments ago.

He felt a surge of power and pride. "Logan Copman," he whispered, savoring the name. "My son, my heir." Unbeknownst to the Copmans, their fate was now intertwined with the demonic forces they had summoned. Cohen's plan had come to fruition, and the new Logan was ready to take his place in the family, unaware of the dark origins of his existence.

[lectorel]

Murderbot Worldbuilding Idea:

NurseryUnits. Also called Nannybots. Childcare constructs designed to raise children. And for the very wealthy, there are MimicNurseUnits - a type of NurseUnit which precisely mimic their charges' legal parents. The same face and body shape, the same voice, and turns of phrase, matching body language, even some amount of staged mimicry of the guardians's actually career work.

After all, wealthy corporates don't have time to raise their own children, but they can't let their children get attached to someone unsuitable. That way lies disaster and space-hippies. It's a neat solution - they get the benefit of their children's love and obedience without having to put in the work of parenting.

[allgremlinart]

you must decide. you must choose the ultimate MILF.

propaganda/MILF context under the cut

Kya I - Very brave. Died in kind of just a brutal and violent and sad way. Invisible presence of the show. Good mom, from what we can tell. Bagged absolute stud of a husband so good for her.

Ursa - What can I say ? Soap Opera Protagonist. Forced into non-consensual marriage. Killed her father in law. Loved both of her children very much but it still wasn't enough to save them. Unfulfilled stage mom. Magic Gay Grandpa.

Hei-Ran - Refers to her daughter by her military rank. Maybe killed her cousin and others in honor duels on purpose but it's kind of wishy washy. Had a thing with past avatar, new avatar ends up dating her daughter, which has got to feel kind of weird.

Lin Beifong - One of few characters in-universe with family name privileges. Not the mommy issues giver but the mommy issues haver. A cop but hey she's really hot. No social life. Miserable.

Liling - Going to give her children incredibly intense mommy issues. Capitalist. Engaged in corporate sabotage to ensure her own dominance in factory town. On like the worst possible version of an HOA. Prejudiced against own daughter.

Buttercup Raiko - One of few characters in-universe with family name privileges. Only mistake was marrying absolute cuck of a president. Barely on screen but when she was she served I can't lie.

Suyin Beifong - One of few characters in-universe with family name privileges. Kind of weird ex-hippy turned liberal mom vibes. Didn't give any of her five children mommy issues but DID give them to the ethno-nationalist with a mecha.

Kya II - Canonically lesbian. Hippie aunt. Underutilized. Shows up to beat ass and make fun of her brothers and then leaves to go smoke weed or something. Daddy issues but like they're pretty manageable, could be way worse.

Senna - Next to her husband looks about one apple tall. Long suffering mother of Avatar. Loves her daughter very much. Not really sure how she survived living with the personalities that are Korra and Tonraq but I think it has to be weed. Cute hair.

Izumi - Maybe has 30 seconds of dialogue but nonetheless present in plenty of f/f slash. The glasses are hot. We don't really know much about her besides the fact that her dad loves her very much.

Pema - Tenzin get OFF of that woman. I know she was only pregnant for like technically one season but it may as well have been the whole show. She needs to try weed and also abandon her family for a month. Low-key devious.

Tagaka - Self-titled Pirate Queen. Waterbender but also uses cool sword she stole off a dead guy just cus. Humiliates old men in front of their adoptive children. Ok so MAYBE she raids coastlines and takes prisoners/slaves from villages she plunders but she's hot when she does it.