#if you can't afford to take the needed time off then don't go no one is forcing you ??????

[redtail-lol]

If you ever need more proof that Tumblr users can't read, OP has repeatedly said it's not about the mug and showed tags that explained the mug is a metaphor or a representation of financial security and people are STILL going on about how to aquire a mug for cheap.

Being upper-middle class is having financial security. And those of us lower classed than that long for what they can have. They can own their home, and have something nicer than a studio apartment to live in. We can't. They can go on vacations and enjoy a change of scenery for a few weeks. We can't. They can buy nice things, and not at their best possible price, and still have their home, and food on the table. We can't.

The mug is not a literal desire to have another mug but being hopelessly unable to find an affordable one. The mug is an example of something simple and basic that people in the lower classes are not allowed to just buy without searching for the cheapest possible one, because we lack the same financial security. It was chosen for the metaphor because it is so simple, and yet it is too expensive for poor people to get brand new at regular stores. The post was never about mugs. It's about the desire for simple and basic things like a home of your own with space and no landlord to dictate what you can and can't do, vacations, security, and yeah, small purchases of nice things you'd just like to have without having to scower the town for a dirt cheap price. It is about living comfortably. It represents small luxuries you can have if you live with financial security. Each thing is just an example of something greater than the word alone.

The condo is an example of being able to afford a home. To have a space of your own. A space with some room in it, not just a cramped apartment. A home that you pay utilities for but doesn't require rent on top of that. A home that you can decide what to do with, you don't have strict rules for maintaining property value. You can just live.

The vacation is leisure time and travel. It is not having to work 2 jobs or work paid overtime often just to make ends meet, but getting to enjoy your day. It is being able to take days off when you need or even want them. It is the ability to travel and go places and afford to do that. And take time off of work to do it.

The mug is small purchases and things in life that are mostly simple and meaningless, yet bring small amounts of comfort and happiness to your life that poor people aren't even able to have. It's the ability to just buy something you want to have without worrying about if you'll be able to afford groceries, and without couponing or searching for the places with the best prices or buying the generic version that always tastes a little worse but it's all you can afford.

It's literally just yearning for the comfort and stability and security that's only afforded to the upper middle class. It's not mugs. This is why your english teacher gave you those assignments

When I grow up I wanna be upper middle class.

[rafelandia]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby (Rafe x fem!reader): Chapter One

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N is new to the island and Rafe seeks asylum in the bar she works at.

Author's Note: Hello! Wanted to say thank you for all of the love on my last few writings. The idea of Rafe not realizing he's falling in love, especially with someone he shouldn't, is so personal to me and honestly what made me create this blog in the first place - so here we go! This will be somewhat of a slow burn, friends-to-lovers-ish piece and I can't wait to hear what you all think! Likes and reblogs are obviously welcomed as well as any requests or questions (related to this fic or otherwise - I love drabbling about this man and will write about anything). Enjoy!

It was a rainy night when she first saw him. She was wiping down the counter top with a slightly mildewed rag when the door chime rang, signaling his entrance. He settled into the barstool furthest from the door, almost as if he was hiding from something. Prior to just now, she had been alone in the shitty, oceanside bar that threatened to capsize any day now. She liked it better this way, empty and quiet. Could play her own music, move at her own pace, even close up a little early if she got lucky.

She noticed immediately that he seemed out of his element, like he knew he shouldn't be here. Although she'd only moved here a few months ago, she'd gotten quite good at deciphering pogues from kooks. This man was no pogue. He'd tried to disguise himself - toned arms adorned in a knitted sweater covered in tiny beads of the salty rain. His jeans were tattered, but not from being worn out and washed a million times; like they were manufactured precisely to look like they'd been through hours of tough labor and dirt. What ultimately gave it away was his watch - she'd never seen metal reflect that brightly even in the shitty, yellow glow of the overhead lamps that hung above her. It had to be worth a good chunk of change.

He looked exhausted, stressed, tired, something like that. She knew that feeling. It had been hard starting over here on the island. It had been 3 months since she'd moved into the quaint townhouse further inland, away from most of the liveliness of the city. Making friends had proved to be quite difficult and she'd only just now managed to afford the sofa for her living room that she wanted.

She wasn't sure why, but she was nervous to approach him. He seemed important. Or intimidating at the very least, she wasn't sure. She walked quietly towards him, afraid to even disturb him with her footsteps. Baby blue eyes reach hers before she can greet him.

"Whiskey," he breaks the silence, fingers tapping on the warped wood of the bar top, "Neat."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she offered him an empathetic smile and nod before turning to face the wall of liquor that lined the shelves.

"You seem out of place," she pointed out, her fingers wrapping around the thick glass bottle to remove the stopper.

"What makes you say that?" the man inquired, eyes pointed down and looking at the rings of water stains from all of the patrons that came here before him.

"Not that hard to tell. You keep bouncing your leg up and down like you're about to pounce and while you seem unassuming in that outfit, I can tell that that sweater is pretty expensive. Maybe it's the cologne, kinda hit me in the face as soon as you walked in. Could be the watch, too. I'm no expert but I think -"

"Okay, I get it," he cut her off with a chuckle as she slid his poison of choice towards him, "Kook caught in pogue territory."

She takes note of the disingenuous look on his face. He seemed to stiffen in his seat.

"You know I only moved here a couple of months ago, but I've noticed you people are obsessed with choosing sides," she thinks aloud, "Why the need to be so divisive?"

He chewed on her words while the thick, amber-colored nectar sloshed between his cheeks.

"Don't know honestly. You raise a fair question," he leans back in the stool, arm moving to drape across the one next to him.

She tried not to stare while she continued to wipe down the rest of the bar. Really, she should leave him alone she thinks. God only knows what kind of power this man holds and what he could do. Who was she to pry?

"Why did you come here to hide, then?" she asked. Fuck it.

The sun-kissed, stoic man across from her inhaled deeply through his nostrils and exhaled through his lips, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

She thinks she's made a royal mistake before, surprisingly, he answers.

"Just wanted to go somewhere where people don't ask questions," he stated, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before focusing back to his drink that was nearing its end.

Heat crept up to her ears and her stomach turned in embarrassment.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be."

Her attention diverted back to her closing duties - refilling cocktail napkins and changing over the cooler filled with cut up fruits.

"It's alright," the man smiled as his fingers circled the rim of his glass, "Kinda nice to talk to someone that doesn't need something from me or needs me to fix something."

He notices the way her lips turn down slightly. She felt bad for him.

"You said you just moved here?" he continued.

"Y-yeah. Back in the spring," she stuttered, a sigh of relief taking over when she realized she hadn't ruined his evening.

"Where are you staying?"

"Um, bit of a commuter. I live a few miles inland so I think that marks me safe from the kooks and pogues war," she toyed.

He laughed at her, chest rising and falling with each chuckle.

"Guess it does. You liking it so far?" he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his words.

"It's alright. I mean, I've always loved the beach and the place I found was pretty cheap. Just wanted to get out of where I was before and see what sticks I guess."

The man nods in agreement, silently pondering what it would be like if he did the same. He'd had the impulse so many times. Just pack up and leave. But he's not that bold he thinks. A part of him is scared he won't mean anything to anyone if he steps foot off of Figure Eight.

"Seems nice. You on your Rumspringa or something?"

The woman standing across from him laughed loudly, caught off guard by his jest. Her cheeks flushed and glowing in the dingy lighting of the bar. They really needed to change the bulbs on the overheads.

"Something like that."

He's laughing at his own joke, relishing in the fact that he's made her smile. He's not sure why, but her laugh latches onto him, like the warm sun that bakes his shoulders on a hot and sunny afternoon. He likes it.

"It's really not all that bad at the end of the day," the man says in earnest, "Aside from the...societal tensions, for lack of a better word. It's a really beautiful island."

She's staring at him now. Initially, and shamefully, she'd assumed he was a prick. His kind had stumbled into this bar on occasion and they usually weren't very nice or talkative. They'd run up a tab, speak loudly and vulgarly about a business partner or a girl for hours before stumbling out of the door without tipping. But he seemed different. Like he'd been longing for a conversation that wasn't about closing a deal or for someone to genuinely just ask him how he was. There was something so human behind the eyes of someone you'd expect to be anything but.

"It is," she agreed, smiling at him sweetly, "You need another?"

He hadn't even realized his drink was empty.

Just before he could answer yes, the chime of a cell phone pierced the walls of the bar.

"Sorry," the man huffed, pulling the sleek, black phone from the pocket of his jacket that hung on the back of his stool.

His eyes grew heavy and he sighed when processed the contents of the message, hands moving to run across the lower half of his face in frustration.

"I actually gotta head out," he seemed disappointed when he spoke, now reaching for his wallet that was tucked away in the same pocket. "Is it always this dead in here?"

"More or less," she answered, "It's nice having the place to myself sometimes."

He grinned as she took his card from him. As she walked to the register, she glanced quickly at the name embossed on the plastic. Rafe Cameron.

"I bet," Rafe agreed. "Hard to find that around here these days. Guess I'll add it to my list of hiding spots."

The woman smiled coyly as she slid the clipboard towards him, card, pen, and receipt attached to the hinges.

"You know," she started, "We usually close the patio at 7, but if you ever need some quiet I won't tell anyone."

His eyes locked with hers for a brief second before moving to the receipt, signing his name with an unrecognizable scribble before standing up to redress himself with his coat. He smirked down at his feet, a hint of bewilderment taking over. Why was she being so nice to him? he thought.

He pressed his lips together, pretending to lock them with an imaginary key and patting his chest. Her "secret" was safe with him.

"Have a good rest of your night, Rafe Cameron," she said with a grin.

She's met with a similar smile, a slight dimple forming on the left side of his cheek.

"You too..," Rafe's eyebrow turning up in question.

"Y/N."

He nodded, feet trailing towards the dry rotted front door that inched towards collapse each time it swung on its hinges.

"Have a good night, Y/N," he stated before ducking out of the bar and back into the cool drizzle of the rain.

She went on about her night, grabbing Rafe's glass and placing it in a carton to be hauled off to the dishwasher in the back. Assuming that the rain had scared off any future customers, she decided to close up early and head home to her furry friend that was probably begging for some cuddles and neck scratches.

As she was balancing the drawer in her register, she looked at Rafe's receipt. He'd tipped her triple the cost of the whiskey. Chuckling silently to herself, she wondered if she'd ever see him again. Someone by law of the land she should probably be weary of, Y/N thought she wouldn't mind having someone like Rafe Cameron around.

[kiemiu]

headcanons of chris dating a lavish hyper feminine gf | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship headcanons wc 944 (library) + (request)

boyfriend!chris who loves that you have standards. as someone who grew up with a certain lifestyle, you made it clear to chris before you started dating him that you don't settle and have pretty high standards. expecting him to take a step back because most men do when they realize they can't afford you, he surprisingly doesn't. he just smiles with low eyes and says "i can handle whatever you throw at me, mama."

boyfriend!chris who reaches for his wallet without hesitation every single time. before you can even set all of your items on the counter, he's pulling out his wallet. when you go out to eat together, he pulls his wallet out as soon as the waiter mentions the check. it doesn't really matter where you are and what you're buying, he's gonna be the one to pay for it. doesn't even entertain the idea of you paying for something by yourself and will actually roll his eyes at you when you start to reach in your purse.

boyfriend!chris who pays for your mani pedi every time you go to the nail salon. all you have to do is offhandedly mention your acrylics growing out and he'll give you his card to go and get your nails done. every now and then when he has the free time, he'll go get it done with you. he usually finishes his treatment before you, so when he does he likes to just sit next to you and share gossip with you and the nail tech. if you do mention that you're hungry and the nail tech still has a long way to go with your nails, he'll pick up something to eat for the both of you and even the nail tech if they want anything. without thinking twice he'll feed you so you don't disrupt the nail tech while they're working. he'll get really shy whenever the other people in the salon point it out and coo over how doting he is.

boyfriend!chris who also chooses your nail design. he's consistently been choosing your nail color and design ever since you've gotten together and he takes the job very seriously. he'll genuinely get offended if you let someone else choose your nail design or you get a touchup without letting him know. besides that, he loves to get matching designs, even if it's something as simple as having each other's initials on your ring fingers.

boyfriend!chris who loves to watch you get ready in the morning. if you ever have somewhere to be and he doesn't, he likes to follow you around like a baby duck and watch you pamper yourself. he'll hold your hair up for you while you search for a hair tie, he'll blow dry your hair for you, he'll choose your perfume, he'll even pick out your outfit if you let him. if he's not doing that, he'll just watch you do your makeup in fascination and whisper compliments, usually something along the lines of. "beautiful before and after." never fails to ask you for a kiss after you put on lipgloss, even though you thinks he'd hate the sticky feeling, he actually loves it and won't wipe it off even long after you're gone.

boyfriend!chris who keeps a compact mirror on him just in case you need it. when you're together, you try not to be on your phones as much, especially when you're out spending one on one time together so to avoid you looking at your phone he carries a small compact mirror around for whenever you feel the need to check your makeup. you could just carry it in your purse, but he prefers to do it. he says it'll be safer in his hands, especially since it's made out of glass but the real reason is that he likes you asking him for help.

boyfriend!chris who carries all of your bags. it could be groceries, shopping bags, or luggage, it doesn't matter. he'll always do the heavy lifting as well as the easy lifting. all you have to do is be pretty for him, he enjoys the view. if he sees you carrying something he'll take it from you without hesitation, especially if it looks heavy. most of the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it, he just feels the need to grab whatever you're holding. what if you chip a nail? he can't have that happen, you'd be so upset, and what kind of boyfriend would he be to not keep you happy?

boyfriend!chris who is always pleasantly surprised when you buy him stuff in return. he genuinely enjoys spoiling you, and the way you always show appreciation for him and the things he does for you always makes him feel fulfilled as your boyfriend. so, whenever you give him something back that's not affectionate doting, he's always pleasantly surprised and really appreciative.

boyfriend!chris who loves to kiss your attitude away. you've accumulated a bit of an attitude due to everything being handed to you, so whenever something doesn't go your way, you have no qualms about showing how annoyed you are about it. the platform uggs you wanted went out of stock? well, chris is right next to you to kiss the pout away and promise that he'll get them for you as soon as they're back in stock. your nails didn't turn out the way you wanted them to? no worries, chris will take you to get them redone tomorrow. he's always there to smother his pouty baby in kisses.

boyfriend!chris who is completely wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @oliviagirlsworld @koilaniazul @starsforu @sturn777 @sturniolosiphone @chrisfavoritewhore

[ashton-ryder]

"Hmm, alright I trust you, as long as we don't end up with someone's sex couch," Ash bit back the laugh with a shiver of dread, but the a real horror was there of ending up with a dubious couch. Probably needs a deep cleaning anyways if he could afford it. Ruth always had a way of getting it her way in the end, convincing him of things he personally didn't think he'd need, but this was something he didn't think he could argue back. He isn't the one that would like to watch movies, Ruth had always been the one to pull him into them when they do. But who was he to deny her of her fun when he owed her so much?

Trading favors may be enticing but he wasn't even sure if he could offer anything worth trading, but he squinted at her second comment, a hint of doubt at her availability, "I thought you'd be way too busy in med school, I wasn't even sure you were eating." Every time they video chat over the past year after Ruth moved from Minnesota, she was always busy doing something. But Ash knew better than to debate it with her, nor to take her away from important duties and work. "I'll let you know if I need help," he settled with that hoping to wouldn't need to bother her.

It was good to hear at least that the neighbors here are alright, he hadn't exactly had the experience before other than with the marines in very close proximity, and had adamantly avoided all forms of a dorm. Ruth's recommendation here was another reason Ash took the bait. "Greeting you with a handshake and pocketing your money in the other?" He joked at the thought but he was more than thankful for an affordable rent quote, having asked for the smallest apartment available. "Yeah I met Mr Wexley earlier when I first got here.. he seemed nice, showed me in and to my apartment when I arrived and everything. Kinda down to earth for a rich guy." You'd think people that own a building and profit off of it would be living somewhere else in a mansion or something. "Heard the apartments get bigger the higher to floors go, can't even imagine living on the ninth floor."

he might have been right about facebook, but that didn't mean it was unmanageable. there were plenty of ways to fact-check whether or not the piece was real. and she'd started to be able to spot some of the fakes fairly quickly. "it is. but, there's a lot of private student groups." considering the volume of move-ins and outs between just columbia and nyu there were plenty of good pieces left out on the curb for the discerning eye.

"i think a couch would be good for movie nights."because there might have been one person living there, but she certainly wasn't going to host every time they did something. just some of the time. most of the time. and besides, the roses already knew of her existence and it hadn't quite clicked so serendipitously. "you can always trade favors. i'm free."

sort of. enough that she would have dropped anything to help ash settle into the city. "i don't spend a lot of time here, but everyone's nice." though given the hours to resident ratio, she was also fairly certain she hadn't met everyone. "even the owners, the wexleys, are so nice." she even went to school with two of them, though their paths crossed far less than she'd first expected. "you'd never know they were the ones collecting rent if you get in the elevator with them."