#only now you have to pay it all yourself. and you can't afford the cost of an ambulance

[miek-unofficial]

i think taxes should be higher and it should all go towards helping people and none of it should go to the military

[calliopechild]

Listen, I wouldn't normally cite Cosmo as support for an argument, but I can't think of anything that sums up the dangers of the stay-at-home girlfriend/tradwife nonsense like this quote:

“If you give a man the power to feed you, he also has the power to starve you.”

[tittyinfinity]

"You're so lucky that you can get paid to sit at home and do nothing" is something I hear from family members & people online.

Okay, let's say you're not disabled at all. No health issues. You've somehow tricked the system into believing you're disabled (not possible).

Would you still trade your job and salary to live off of $600-800 a month?

Would you give up your house, your car, your hobbies, the ability to buy gifts for yourself & others, and ALL of your savings, just for the "great benefit" of sitting in bed all day?

Do you really think it's that great?

Now, add health issues to all of that.

Not only are you stuck at home, but your body hurts every time you try to move, lights and sounds can send you into a meltdown, you can't even make it to the bathroom without nearly passing out the entire way there. You're always too fatigued, too dizzy, or in too much pain to do basic activities. You can't cook for yourself more than once or twice a month. Fast food is expensive. You can't keep your place clean or even get yourself to shower regularly. You can't afford your hobbies – even just buying a video game is 10% of your income for the entire month. You don't get to buy yourself (or your kid/s) nice things. After paying bills, you have almost nothing left for necessities and gas. Your car breaks down? It costs 50%-200% of your monthly paycheck. You want new clothes? You got the thrift shop, clearance section at walmart, or ordering cheap things from horrible places like Temu, Shein, or Wish. You want a place to live? You won't be able to afford to live alone until you get approved for housing assistance after waiting 5 or more years on a waiting list. And either way, bills are gonna be more than half of your monthly paycheck.

Does all of that sound like a privilege?

And do you REALLY believe anyone would try to fake a disability for that?

Get mad at the system that underpays you, not at disabled people who are paid well below a sub-minimum wage just to "sit around" and feel like shit all day

[mcshiiin]

a pair of scissors, a pair of lovers.

heartsteel! kayn x reader

"babe… i fucked up my hair-"

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

your ears twitched upon hearing his boisterous laugh. it rose your ire, and now you're seeing red.

"DON'T FUCKING LAUGH I HATE YOU!"

"IT'S NOT-" he sputters. "IT'S NOT THAT BA-HAHAHAHHHAAH!"

"GET OUT KAYN FUCK YOU!"

you slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving kayn howling outside. his mockery ticked off something in your head. the frustration from your failure and kayn's taunting made the room seem so small, its walls slowly closing in on you as your chest heaved up and down. the humid air inside is starting to suffocate you. you needed to do something, fast, or else you would get crushed. so you did what you do best—cleaning.

you tried your best to avoid looking at the mirror as you tidied up the mess. normally, it soothes your nerves, yet suddenly everything makes you icky. how the collar of your shirt clung to the base of your neck, making you uncomfortable. your ears twitched with the squeaking noise from slippers as you moved around. you can't help but grimace at the hairs that kept appearing again even after sweeping them off. you narrowed your eyes, surveying the sight before you, and let out an exasperated sigh.

then, your gaze accidentally landed on the mirror.

your impulsiveness costs you your mid-length hair. it used to fall just above your chest, but now it is a butchered bob with uneven cuts, especially on the back. initially, you only wanted to trim the ends, then one thing led to another, so now you're staring at yourself in the mirror at 2 AM with tears your threatening to fall.

"you could've just gone to the salon to get the job done, but no. you just have to do it yourself, don't you?'" you scolded yourself in your head as you examine your mangled hair.

you bit your lip. as panic finally settled in the pit of your stomach, your grip on the edge of the sink tightened. you just got hired from your dream company and it will be your first day on the job this coming monday.

"they won't take me seriously if i look like this," you shuddered. you tried to inhale as much air as you could to drown the sob that was about to spill from your lips.

a trim, that's all you wanted! it should have been easy enough to do at home. easy enough to do so you don't have to spend money for it. with kayn getting kicked out from the band and with you getting out of unemployment only recently, you have a tight budget, one that could not afford the luxury of getting your hair cut professionally. and now, you'll be forced to pay to fix the abominable hair of yours.

you watch your lips twist into a deep frown, your reflection mirroring every minuscule detail of yours. the longer you stare at yourself, the more heavy your chest becomes, the harder it is to breathe, and then-!

you suddenly burst out crying.

hot, angry tears stream down your cheeks. your body feels as if it is on fire, resentment seeping out from your skin. thoughts filled your head, yet none of it made any sense. they were all incoherent murmurs against the loud pounding of your heart.

your hair. your job. kayn.

kayn—he's outside doing god knows what. probably still laughing like an idiot, probably tinkering something in the kitchen, completely forgetting about your dilemma. you badly want to run to his arms and curse at the world, but you're still fucking pissed at him.

your shoulders shook with every breath. the room never felt smaller- the walls are closing in on you, slowly squeezing out the air from your lungs. every second that you spend inside your bathroom agonizes you. you wanted to get out and scream, but you stayed glued to your spot.

you can practically taste the snot dripping from your nose. a choked noise escaped from your lips as you furiously wiped the tears that kept streaming down your face. from your cheeks, down to your shirt, then to the tiled floor- they were all tear-stained, blemished with your bitterness.

amongst the uproar in your head, you heard his voice calling for you, loud and clear.

"hey, babe…?" "are you crying?"

he was met with muffled sniffles. tension hung around in the air like a thick fog. you refused to reply, knowing that you would only slur your words.

"ok, i'm done laughing now. open the door, baby," he tried coaxing you. gone was the humor in his voice. for a man like kayn, he was being gentle for sure, but it didn't budge you out of your spot.

your vision blurs, the tears blocking your eyes making your surroundings look hazy.

"hey! open the door!"

on the other side of the door, kayn was beggining to be restless. you shut yourself inside the bathroom for almost an hour now, and it concerns him. who knows that you could be doing there?

he won't admit it but he kinda felt bad for laughing at you earlier. but who wouldn't be?! no one can resist laughing at how ridicously adorable you looked! sure, your hair seemed a little bit askew, but aside from that, your lips pursed into a frustrated pout and reddened cheeks were definitely a sight to see.

kayn enjoyed poking fun at you. taunting you was amusing for him because of how creative you were at your retorts and how colorful your language was when you cursed him. when he says something mean, your reply is even meaner. whenever kayn tries to stir something and provoke you, the both of you only end up maniacally cackling together. but it appears like this time, not like those times. you were upset, so kayn does what he does best—

"i'm tearing this door down if you don't open it. i swear!"

—be an idiot.

"i'm gonna count to three, 'ya hear me?" he assumed a stance, then begin counting. "one, two, thr-"

the bathroom door swung open. you knew your lover won't hesitate to break the door if it's for you. so amidst your face being streaked with tears, snot, and drool, while your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from all the crying, you opened the door for him.

"hey, baby," he greeted you with a softness akin to cotton. within milliseconds, he's all upon you.

he immediately sought for you. he snaked an arm around your waist, while his other hand rests at the back of your head. you instictively reciprocated his embrace and buried your head in his chest. too tired to be annoyed with him anymore, you let yourself be comforted by his presence. your sniffles echo around your shared apartment. kayn craddled you closer to him.

"shh. it's okay," you heard him say, along with other sweet nothings he whispered on your ears.

he started petting your head to help you calm down. it was effective to say the least. your weeping instantly subsided into faint hiccups until it finally disolves into complete silence.

you were the first one to break the hug. you pulled your head away from him, a wet blob on his shirt marking your presence. you did not dare meet his gaze.

"i still hate you, by the way," you blurted out.

he opened his mouth to say something sarcastic but you were quick to grab the hem of his shirt and use it to dry your tears. then, you ultimately used it to blow your nose.

"ew, gross! babe, stop!"

he tried to wiggle away from you but you held tight and made sure to thoroughly clean your nose. just a little payback, you thought.

you then looked up to meet his irritated gaze with your swollen eyes. his face is scrunched up; his lips are frowning while his brows were almost knitted together. within seconds, you two bursted out laughing. you're practically vibrating at the stupidity of your situation. your eyes crinkle as the sound of kayn's hooting hover around you. seems that a huge weight has been lifted off your chest. you're not upset anymore, at least not much. you feel at ease whenever kayn is around, as if no matter what happens, he'll take care of you.

as silence ensued, he then seized you by the wrist. he was staring at you intently, his eyes boring into yours. there was a sense of urgency in his expression, or was it excitement? what could he be scheming now?

"so about your hair—"

"stop it," you cut him off immediately, wanting to just forget about everything and sleep it off. "i'll just go to the salon tomorrow or whatever-"

kayn, persistent as ever, heed no attention to you and proceeded to cup your cheeks with his hand. he squeezed it firmly, your lips forming into an "o" shape.

"hep hep hep! zip it," he let out a mischevious smirk. his smugness oozing out. "don't worry. i got you, baby," he then gave you a wink.

you wanted to protest but he already left to get a chair. when he came back, he grab your shoulders and made you sit down. in a flash, he is already behind you with a pair of scissors on his hand. he titled your chin forward using his other hand to level your head. you glared at him through the mirror, but he already busied himself behind you to even notice it.

"you can trust me on this one, baby. i swear."

and you did, even if you're quite nervous. this is kayn after all, the kayn that almost burned down your kitchen. an impulsive idiot, yes— just like you hours ago when you decided to trim your own hair. although he won't verbalize how sorry he is for making fun of you, he makes up for it by doing whatever the hell this is. you can't tell if his movements are laced with certainty or just pure bravado, as he cuts and snips your hair. his carefree humming doesn't help either.

"me likey, me likey likey likey."

you recognize it from a kpop group, twice, which he stubbornly won't admit that he listens to.

"all done, baby." he smirked at you through the mirror.

you stared at yourself in the mirror. you never had your hair cut this short ever. it is new, but you don't hate it. you examined his work. he sculpted your previous, mangled work into a better one. no more uneven cuts and it doesn't look dishelved anymore.

"you can style it like this," he said as he demonstrated it. "or you can wait it out to get longer, then we'll cut it like so, then we can style it like that."

you barely undesrtood the words that he is saying as you were already preparing to jump on him.you snaked your arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses to thank him. from his nose to his cheeks, then to his forehead, there were no spot left untouched, no spot left unloved.

"hey, hey! calm down," he feighed annoyance. he loved getting all these attention from you but he won't admit it. however, his not-so-discrete reactions tells you otherwise.

as you stared at him lovingly, you felt his arms wrapped around your waist. your lips twist into a content smile. you lover may be an asshole, but he has his moments, just like this one.

"thank you, baby," you said with all the sincerity you have.

"yeah, whatever," pink dusted his cheeks. "just stay away from the scissors next time, okay?"

you rolled your eyes and pecked his nose. he knew how stressful it must have been for you these past few weeks, so fucking up your hair might have been the last straw. that's why even though kayn felt triumphant because he's rewarded with your kisses, what matters the most is that your problem is fixed and that you're okay now. he's glad that he gets to make you feel better. he hated seeing you cry, as it felt as if he was being stabbed multiple times. with your eyes brimmed with tears and your nose runny—he can't stand the pained look on your face. although he can't help but admire your beauty in those times, sadness doesn't suit you.

"damn, what would you do without me?"

"oh shut up!"

"aww, my helpless princess!"

"ugh, fuck you, man!"

"oh yes you will, darling~"

you didn't. you cleaned up the mess of hair in your bathroom with his help, took a warm shower, and then collapsed next to him in bed.

[trek-tracks]

hello! I am also diabetic (type one). I’m curious if when you think of star trek or yourself in Star Trek if you imagine having diabetes still? I think either way is valid, just curious. I go back and forth trying to figure out if they would have cured it or just advanced insulin pumps to the point of being practically seamless with day to day life. For me being diabetic is so integral to my personality I kind of don’t know if I would like to think of it as being cured? It’s cool if you don’t want to answer too! Just thought I’d ask :)

This is an interesting question.

I've always thought about my type one diabetes as being solidly on the second end of the disability "spectrum," so to speak, where the first end is "this is integral to my personality and who I am, accommodate but do not 'cure' me," and the second is "this brings nothing but pain to my life, please cure me immediately."

The only accommodation that would fully make my life better, in my opinion, (which is only my opinion about my own disability), is either a functional cure (artificial pancreas) or actual cure (no machinery necessary), the latter of which I would prefer, because frankly I'm sick of wearing a pump and a cgm 24/7 and the sheer amount of waste it produces, which is not my fault because I need to live, but still weighs heavily on me (and takes up a large amount of space in my apartment). Not to mention the scheduling--this message brought to you by me being woken up at 5am by an empty insulin pump and realizing that, no, I don't seem to have any unused cartridges left, so I have to use an old one and pray that the pump accepts it while waiting for the delivery of the supplies I just now ordered, which cost $750.

When I think about a life in the Star Trek universe, I can really only think about being transferred there now, as I am, with the life I have led, and I think that's what also shapes my decision. If I had been born into the Star Trek universe, there are so many aspects of my personality that might have been different, considering I wouldn't have to worry about scarcity and affordability of, for example, housing. Instead of being a theatre critic as a second job that feeds my soul but doesn't pay the bills, I'd probably be a playwright/dramaturg/critic full time. However, I might find not having a job outside of the theatre world to be detrimental, because when people don't have lives outside of theatre, their writing tends to get smaller and more insular.

This is a digression, but what I mean is: I can only see me as I am now joining a Starfleet world, rather than trying to envision the person I would be if I'd begun my life there. I mean, I certainly wouldn't be known for making memes about Star Trek, the TV show, if Star Trek were reality instead of entertainment, so things would be different in a number of ways. I can't even think about all the ways my life could have been different in this reality without getting a headache.

In that case, I have learned a lot from being diabetic, including patience and empathy for other people, and a strong sense of social justice. I've learned a lot about food and exercise and how they affect the body. I've learned responsibility and self-management. I've made more peace with aging than many of my friends, because I've felt prematurely "old" (aches, pains, contemplation of mortality) since I was a preteen. I think I would have some form of these things without diabetes, but my worldview would likely be different. In a way, I'm grateful for these lessons, and I don't know if born-into-Star-Trek me would be insufferable.

That being said, I firmly believe that having diabetes for more than 25 years means that diabetes has taught me all about life it's going to teach me. I'm done. If I were to wake up tomorrow without it, I'd, in the words of Beyond McCoy, "throw a party." A party with plenty of cake. Or, to misquote The Voyage Home, "The doctor gave me a pill, and I grew a new pancreas!"

Now that it's part of me, its absence might leave me somewhat adrift, but I think of all the time I've lost to it where I could have been enjoying life and been allowed to be the unfettered me I desired to be, and I say, good riddance.

[niiwa-angel]

I'm going to say something wildly unpopular in the Radfem community, but IDC, because I think it needs saying.

This little fantasy a lot of Radfems women have about whipping up a group of women, buying a plot of land, and living off it in the name of separatism is a fairytale at best and a dangerous endeavour at worst. My family lives off grid in rural Canada, it's no fucking picnic. First of all, it costs thousands of dollars for solar panels and they don't collect as much power as you'd think, especially in wooded areas. We put them on top of buildings and in fields for a reason and it's because if there are shadows across them, they don't get as much power. Winters are also hard because the days are shorter and the sun is weaker, so in most places, you'll be reliant on a generator for power in the winter.

Now I hear what you're saying "but Angel! We'll have wind turbines too!" Fantastic, and how are you going to maintain them? Those massive white ones you see in fields are out of most people's price ranges and the smaller ones are at risk of being damaged by debris during rough winds or a storm. Which is fine, if it's not your only power supply, but if you're dependent on it, that's a problem.

Now let's move on to other things, because that's important. How are you going to live off the land? Farm it? Raise animals? Hunt? How are you going to pay for the equipment you'll need to farm crops or butcher livestock? How are you going to feed the livestock? My family has goats and chickens, those mother fuckers eat A LOT and it isn't cheap. How are you going to pasteurize the milk you get from animals? What's your plan if your crop fails, how do you feed your group?

How about buildings? First of all, how do you plan to get permits to build? Just because you own the land doesn't mean you can do whatever you want on it, you need to talk to Conservation, Zoning, and your municipality before you break ground and that can take months or even years. How do you plan on getting the buildings up? Do you know how much heavy machinery costs to rent? Do you know how much building supplies cost? What's your plan if something goes wrong, because it can. Do you have the skills needed to operate the type of heavy machinery used in construction? Do you have the safety training to minimize the likelihood of someone getting hurt or killed?

How are you going to take care of yourselves? Remember, you won't be going forever, what happens when you physically can't work the fields anymore? What happens when you need regular treatment for your ailments? Farming and construction are hard jobs, they take a toll on the body. Do you go to the doctors outside of your group, or do you hope that the medical knowledge any members of your group brought with them 5, 10, 15 years ago is still accurate? That they still remember how to perform those treatments? How will you get equipment if you need it brought home, can your power grid even support it?

What are you going to do about sewage? The septic tank will get full eventually, who do you call to empty it? Can you afford to get it emptied with all the other expenses you have? What if your septic tank needs replacing? Who do you call to do that, can you afford to do it yourself? If you can do it yourself, what do you do with the broken tank?

What about money, how are you going to fund this operation, because that'll be a big one. If you want farmable land, you're going to need to buy land with fertile soil, which can be insanely expensive, then in top of it, you'll need seeds, fertilizer, farming equipment, fencing, storage containers like silos, and labour, none of which is cheap. And all of which needs to be purchased repeatedly, such as seeds and fertilizer, or needs to be maintained, such as silos and farm equipment. How do you plan on upholding those costs?

How do you ensure that your farming community doesn't just die out after 1 generation? How will you recruit new members? How can you make people want to come work for you? Can you afford to make it worth their while?

Listen, I understand wanting to build your own community and I'm not necessarily knocking that. What I am saying is, let's be realistic here. Trying to remove yourself completely from society is not a solution, not a long term one at least. If you want to empower yourself and other women, you need to actually fight to make a better society.

Get a degree in something useful, like chemistry, biology, social work, nursing, teaching, etc, and then volunteer with educational programs for girl children and adolescents. Take on female apprentices and teach them what you know! If you have a degree in something like Early Childhood Education and are working at or run a daycare, reach out to your local women's shelter and offer to take in some of the young children there, free of charge, so their mothers don't have to worry about childcare while job/house hunting. If you get a medical doctorate, do research on female specific illnesses, apply for study grants and make yourself heard!

If you work in Social Work, focus on women! Make women's only addiction recovery, homeless services, housing services, and long term care services! If you want to get a job in agriculture, do it, and then take on female apprentices! If you're in a trade, volunteer some of your time to women's shelters teaching women the basics of home maintenance and repair, as well as servicing the shelter. They often struggle for funding and if you'll redo their roof for the cost of materials, or can fix some plumbing issues, that takes a load of their plate! If you're in an office setting, team up with your fellow women and push for more wages and promotions, build each other up!

You will have to fight for these, and that's okay! Do you think the first Suffragettes just gave up when it got hard, hopped on a boat, and found an uninhabited island to make a commune on? NO! They stayed and they fought, and it was hard, and they were ridiculed and judged but because of them, women can vote today, we can own property!

Being a woman in society is hard but the solution is not to run off and live like pioneers with no sustainability! The solution is to dig out heels in, and push for a better society so that women tomorrow don't have to.

[ladylingua]

I have a very genuine question about the tipping post I promise I didnt read it in bad faith: are people who simply cannot afford to tip not “allowed” to eat out? I’m just thinking about how it works where I am from and while tipping is the norm here if someone doesn’t tip because they can’t afford it it really isn’t a big deal (+tipping norm here us only 10%). so if a poor family goes out to eat to celebrate something and they can barely afford the meal would they still be expected to tip 20% because they shouldn’t eat out if they cant afford it? thank you in advance I’m really curious

If it helps, don’t think of the tip as a separate thing. It is part of the cost of your meal. So if you cannot afford to pay for the cost of the meal including the tip you cannot afford to eat at that restaurant. This is something I myself have to calculate when I’m deciding if I want to eat at a particular restaurant- if I have $15 I can’t go to a restaurant and order a $20 entrée and then refuse to pay the remaining cost, and likewise if I have $15 I can’t order a $15 entrée and expect not to pay the server for their service.

Now that doesn't mean families who can't afford a pricy restaurant can't eat out at all. Since it is a % of your bill you can try to go for a cheaper restaurant (smaller bill = smaller tip), or if you go to a counter service place where you serve yourself you’re not expected to tip 20% (sometimes they have a jar out you could kindly throw a dollar or more in, but there is much less expectation to tip because the workers at a place like that receive a full minimum wage, more on that in a sec). I will also say in my lived experience poor families in America understand and tip well, I’ve almost exclusively been under tipped by wealthy people (which is what kicked off the debate on twitter- if your bill is $700 then you obviously can afford to tip a full 20%, no destitute families are spending $700 on one meal).

Technically speaking you can get away with 18% as a tip, and if you go down to 15% your waiter will think you’re cheap and be annoyed (15% definitely implies you were unhappy with their service) but that is the lowest possible threshold of acceptability. 10% is not an acceptable rate here, and 20% is now the expected norm for good service, and going up from there for great service. And I would never, ever not tip at all. I can only imagine not tipping if like the server had done something deeply offensive or dangerous or something. I've never encountered a situation where I felt the server didn't deserve any tip at all.

Because you’ve asked in genuine good faith I’m going to provide some more context to help you understand a bit more why this is the way it is-

Waitstaff in america are wildly underpaid. Our federal government assumes the tips are part of their expected income, and so a) they are taxed on assumed tips and b) it is legal to pay them less than standard minimum wage. Currently the tipped federal minimum wage is $2.13/hr. Now, states set their own individual rates so some states do better, but $2.13/hr is the lowest they can all legally go. And you’ll notice in that link it mentions the assumed tips and taxing them. I said on my original post, when I worked as a tipped waitress I made $2.68/hr and sometimes my biweekly paycheck was like $60 total. Imagine trying to survive on $120 a month, you absolutely cannot. Tips made up my actual wage, and were the paycheck I depended on to pay for my basic needs. I relied directly on customers to choose to do the social convention of tipping for survival, and when someone would choose to do otherwise it was utterly devastating.

Another thing customers sometimes don’t realize is your waiter may not be allowed to keep all of the tip themselves. It’s a common practice to pool tips amongst all the waitstaff and then divide them equally, and many places require that you tip out other employees there. So if you give me $10 as a tip I might be actually giving a large chunk of that to bussers, bartenders, etc. Or maybe we pool tips and someone else stiffed my colleague so now all of us are sharing your $10 tip. So also keep in mind that the money you leave as a tip very often does not go entirely to the actual waiter, so a big tip can actually become pretty small much faster than you would think.

(and that's just legal practices, wage theft and illegal practices run rampant in the restaurant industry, just fyi)

If you are wondering why tipping culture here is so grim, it is because of slavery. Tipping got big here as a way to keep forcing Black Americans into working for free, now with a small tip but still no actual wage. It was designed for oppression. Waitstaff are overwhelmingly not wealthy people. It is very common for them to be on food stamps, require housing assistance, or to otherwise be living under the poverty line. If you are eating out and not tipping because you yourself are poor, you are taking money out of someone else’s poverty wages to do so. When we debate minimum wage here in america, conservatives are really good at painting a picture of waitstaff being perky middle class college kids making an extra buck, or teens from wealthy homes wanting some spending money. There is an implication that they don't really need the money that badly. That is not the reality of who makes up most serving jobs in america. Minimum wage workers are likely to be in poverty, they’re likely to be women and specifically they’re likely to be women of color. Americans of color are significantly more likely to be working at minimum wage than white americans. There is a pretty sizeable number of minimum wage workers who are over 50, and a not insignificant amount of them who are mothers who support their families. There are also those teens who just want extra cash, and they deserve good compensation for their hard work too, don’t get me wrong, but they are only a portion of who makes up the minimum wage workforce.

If you’re like “But that’s such a shitty system, you’re saying it’s pitting poor people against each other for basic human comforts!” yup. I 100% agree. I am a vocal proponent of raising the minimum wage for that reason. I also advocate for a Universal Basic Income, because I understand that when it comes to small mom & pop restaurants the owners aren’t always making a ton of money either and it seems like truly no one is winning in this system. It is set up to oppress and to demean and to grind us all down. There are lots of orgs in America that are fighting to improve the system, or to radically change the system. There are also restaurants that have tried to do things differently- there’s a wine bar in my city that says specifically on their menu that their wine is more expensive because they pay their workers a true livable wage so there is no tipping there. Instead as a customer I pay a higher upfront cost that covers the true expense of running the bar- including server wages. I love that, I wish more places would do things like that. In the meantime, when I’m choosing where to eat I factor in a tip of 20% when calculating my estimated bill, because paying for service is part of the cost.

Refusing to tip fully in america is not doing anything to change the system. It does not make restaurant owners rethink their pay structure, it does not put pressure on our government to fix minimum wage, it does not make a political statement. It just means your server is going home wondering if they can afford their own meal that night.

Thank you for asking for clarity, I hope this helps. Please feel free to ask more if you have any remaining confusion or are curious about other aspects of american culture. If I can answer and the questions are respectful, I am happy to reply!

[lesyarei7]

🅻🆄🆂🆃🆈 🅹🆄🆂🆃🅸🅲🅴

WARNING OF NSFW CONTENT ─ 🔞mdni, oral sex Same on 🔗AO3

Madara x FemReader, Modern AU, 2888 words 

🔗Request 6

By 🔗lesyarei7 - Sep 13, 2024

🅻🆄🆂🆃🆈 🅹🆄🆂🆃🅸🅲🅴

Madara is a highly esteemed lawyer in Japan. You were facing difficult legal issues that could potentially leave you homeless if not properly handled. A once-trusted relative had stabbed you in the back, weaponizing your darkest secrets in a ruthless blackmail attempt. Feeling desperate, you remembered that Madara, who is only 31 years of age, was renowned as the top attorney in Tokyo. As his former employee, you had recently left your job at a call center after working there for 2 months due to family health concerns. Before that, you spent 6 months working under him at the law firm.  Despite his busy schedule, Madara had sometimes chatted with you during your time as his employee. He even once offered to drive you home. So you decided to reach out to him for help.

Your heart is racing in your chest, a mixture of panic and desperation overwhelming you. Madara stands before you, listening intently as you explain your dire financial situation. You have no money at the moment, but you need help immediately. With a heavy heart, you offer to take a loan from him and pay him back once the case is resolved. He nods, his piercing gaze probing for more details.

"Y/n," he interrupts, his voice low but unwavering. "I will help you. But on one condition..." He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "If the case is successful, you will sleep with me instead of paying me back." He doesn’t blink, but there’s something beneath his words — hesitation? A flicker of vulnerability was quickly masked by his usual stoic expression. Something flickers in his eyes — a brief flash of uncertainty before his mask of control slips back into place. Could he be nervous too?

Your jaw drops at his brazen demand, and you find yourself dumbfounded.

You are stunned at such a proposition. It's not that Madara isn't attractive or your type, it's just so unexpected and sudden that your stomach clenches in discomfort. You have never been the type to give yourself to a man so easily, especially not one that you barely know. Sure, you have met Madara before and he has given you rides home occasionally, but that was the extent of your relationship.

Anger rises within you at his disrespectful proposal, but it's quickly overshadowed by fear. What would happen if I walked away? The thought of losing everything weighs heavily on your mind. You can't just call him a filthy motherfucker and walk away, as much as you want to. Your breath quickens, and you feel trapped between your principles and the reality of your situation. This is not how I imagined saving myself. Every instinct screams at me to walk away... but I can’t afford to. Still, desperation gnaws at your resolve, and with a heavy sigh, you reluctantly agree. The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you need his help, no matter the cost.

"Very well," Madara responds coolly, accepting your terms as if they were nothing. You take a deep breath and begin to give him all the detailed information about your legal issues, grateful for his help but also feeling uneasy about the price you may have to pay in the end.

Two long, grueling weeks had passed since the intense battle with your relative. Throughout the ordeal, you found yourself noticing little things about Madara that you hadn't before — the way his lips curled when he was deep in thought, or how his gaze lingered just a moment too long on yours. You couldn't deny the small rush that came every time his hand brushed yours while exchanging documents. But you pushed those feelings down. There was too much at stake to let your emotions complicate things. Yet, with each passing day, a subtle tension grew between you, and you wondered if Madara felt it too.

Now, standing before Madara on the day of your triumph, it was time to fulfill your promise to pay him.

"Meet me today at 7," he reminded you in his smooth, confident voice. "I'll send a taxi to you."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth and embarrassment flood through you, causing your cheeks to turn as red as a ripe tomato as he winked at you, knowing that he could see right through your nervousness.

"I'll throw you the address," he added playfully as if it was some kind of game between the two of you.

You donned a form-fitting black dress that hugged your curves and let your long hair flow loose down your back. As you made your way to his apartment, you couldn't help but feel like a prostitute going to meet her client. It was your own fault for agreeing to this arrangement... despite the flurry of thoughts running through your mind, you were filled with worry and confusion. Throughout the entire time you had worked on the case together, Madara had been nothing but reserved and aloof. His true emotions were always hidden behind a mask of calm professionalism. 

How would he behave?

As if sensing your thoughts, Madara stood near a huge window in a pristine white open-collar shirt and fitted black pants. His chiseled features and sharp jawline only added to his already overwhelming handsomeness. "Come on in, y/n," he beckoned, gesturing towards the plush leather couches arranged in front of him.

Madara loomed over you, his towering figure casting a shadow over your body. His hot breath tickled your skin as he leaned in, causing your heart to flutter with a mixture of fear and excitement. Madara's breath was hot on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced in your chest, unable to control its erratic beating with him so near. "You're so tense, my dear. Are you afraid? Don't worry, I won't bite...unless you want me to." His voice dripped with seductive amusement as he flashed a wicked smirk. You were rendered speechless, completely lost in his intense gaze and forgetting how to take a breath.

Your words were barely audible as you mumbled, "I just... it's so wrong..." Your gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet Madara's piercing stare. A sudden movement caught your attention as Madara turned away, his broad back now facing you.

"Just leave, Y/N," he said, his voice heavy with something you hadn’t heard before — regret. His gaze softened, no longer the cold, calculating lawyer but a man wrestling with emotions he wasn’t used to. He glanced away for a moment, jaw tense. “I don’t want to force you into anything,” he added, quieter now as if speaking more to himself than to you.

Your eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"I don't want to force you into anything," he continued, his tone softer now. "I won't find any satisfaction in having sex with someone who doesn't truly want it."

You couldn't help but think about payment, knowing that was your only means of survival in this twisted world. "But what about payment?" you managed to say through the rush of thoughts.

"Forget it," he said dismissively. "Your well-being is more important than any monetary compensation." His words caught you off guard, a glimmer of something resembling kindness shining through his hardened exterior. "You couldn't put a price on something that should be given freely and willingly." Madara continued, sipping a drink and looking out the window.

Your heart raced as you looked up at Madara's intense gaze. "It's not that I don't want you," you muttered, your voice shaking slightly. "It's just all happening so suddenly and fast for me..." You couldn't deny the strong attraction between the two of you, but you needed time to process everything before taking things further.

Madara turned to face you fully, his piercing eyes softening for the first time. What’s happening? Your pulse quickens. You had always thought of him as distant, unreachable — but now, there’s something different in the way he looks at you, something warmer. "I understand, Y/N," he says, his voice lower, almost tender. It’s then that you feel the pull, the undeniable chemistry between you both. You swallow hard, wondering if he’s feeling it too. But is it just lust? Or something deeper? The questions swirl in your mind, but you find yourself leaning closer to him regardless.

"Let's spend some time together and see where it will lead us." His hand reached up to gently caress your flushed cheeks, sending shivers down your spine.

At that moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. It was like a spark igniting within you, filling you with warmth and desire. And then, just as quickly as it began, he pulled away and smiled at you. "Take all the time you need," he whispered before letting you go.

The intimacy of the moment left you feeling both exhilarated and nervous about what was to come next.

As the week went by you spent more time with Madara, going on dates and walks together. You started to realize that your initial assumptions about him were wrong. He didn't push you or pressure you in any way, and you appreciated that. You weren't the type to jump into bed with someone without any emotional connection, and he provided that for you.

Bedroom

As you followed him into the bedroom, the weight of the earlier deal felt distant, almost irrelevant. This isn't about repaying a debt anymore, you thought, your heartbeat quickening with something far more genuine. My body reacted to him in ways I never expected, craving his touch not out of obligation, but out of an undeniable attraction.

Madara’s commanding presence filled the room, but instead of feeling powerless, you felt drawn to him, more aware of your desires than you had ever been. His eyes searched yours, not with dominance, but with a question — one you were ready to answer. You wanted him, not out of obligation, but out of a longing you hadn’t anticipated. With each step toward him, the power shifted. This was no longer a transaction, but something far more real.

His assertive hands explored your frame, eliciting intense sensations of pleasure as he removed each piece of clothing from your quivering form. He murmured compliments into your ear, his moist kisses generating a profound sense of exhilaration throughout your entire being. With every caress, you experienced an increasing level of arousal, overwhelmed by the compelling desire to surrender to him.

For several days, you had been preoccupied with thoughts of Madara's passionate advances, which stirred within you a profound sense of desire and longing. Now, in the confines of a hotel room, you found yourself realizing those fantasies as he skillfully explored your physique with his tongue. Your being responded instinctively to his expert touch, each movement eliciting intense waves of ecstasy. Your thighs involuntarily pressed against his head in a display of unrestrained pleasure as he firmly grasped them, enhancing his access to your most sensitive areas.

How he provided you with pleasure was unparalleled, eliciting sensations that coursed through your bones and causing them to tremble with ecstasy. Each contemplation of his presence in such an intimate context had culminated in this moment, which proved to be even more intense and exhilarating than you had previously envisioned.

With a primal growl, you grasp Madara's head and pull him closer, urging him to continue his passionate assault on your swollen and sensitive button. You writhe on the bed, arching your back in pleasure as waves of ecstasy wash over you, causing your shape to convulse and tremble. Goosebumps spread across your skin, accentuating every inch of your body that tingles with delight.

"Oh fuck...Madara," you groan as he skillfully works his tongue over your throbbing clitoris, sending electric shocks through your core. He devours you like a predator, savoring every drop of your sweet essence and leaving you yearning for more. You gasp breathlessly, barely able to form coherent words as the pleasure overwhelms you.

His dark eyes glint with desire as he gazes at you hungrily. "Your moans are intoxicating," he rasps, his voice thick with lust. "You're incredible, you gasp, still reeling from the mind-blowing experience. His dark eyes sparkle with amusement as he smirks, "You gave me an instant boner, Y/N."

Touching Madara's waist, you smiled seductively as you sat beside him. You could feel the heat radiating from his throbbing erection, sending shivers down your spine. With a sly smirk, you took him in your hand and slowly stroked him, relishing the way he squirmed beneath you.

"Do you like me to take care of this for you?" you purred, already knowing the answer.

Madara's eyes darkened with lust as he nodded eagerly. Without hesitation, you lowered your head and enveloped him with your lips, teasing the sensitive tip with your tongue. He let out a guttural groan, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you with desperate urgency.

You hummed in pleasure as his shaft filled your mouth, taking him deeper and deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis. He moaned loudly, his grip on your hair tightening as he reached his climax.

With a final gasp, he released his grip on your head and you pulled away, watching as his hot cum dripped onto your hand. But there was no time to bask in the afterglow — Madara's eyes burned with desire as he gazed at you hungrily.

"Give me a few minutes," he growled, "and I will fuck you senseless."

You couldn't resist giving yourself a quick taste of his lingering seed, feeling intoxicated by the intensity of his release. You licked your fingers, reveling in how dirty you could be.

Your hands glided over his chiseled abs, marveling at the ridges and curves of his perfect physique. You lay on your back as Madara slowly ran his hardened cock along your pink folds, eliciting tingles of pleasure from your shape. With a gasp, he entered you and began to move his hips in a gentle rhythm. Your kisses were passionate and urgent as his dick deliciously filled you. The warmth of his skin against yours sent shivers of ecstasy through you, as you savored every moment of this intimate encounter.

Your anatomy trembles as you wrap your legs tightly around Madara's back, gasping for air.

With each thrust of his powerful hips, you moan in pleasure and bite at his ear, begging for more. He eagerly obliges, sucking on your sensitive nipple until you feel a surge of electric pleasure shoots through your flesh.

Your sex with him is intense and passionate, a mix of gentle love-making and raw lust. You cling onto him, biting and scratching at his back in desperation as he quickens his pace, growling praises in between grunts of pleasure. "You're amazing y/n...I never want this to end," he groans as he cups your breasts firmly in his hands. The sensations are overwhelming, driving you both towards the edge. "Ah, Madara...I'm gonna cum..." you cry out, feeling your orgasm building inside of you. "Mm...me too," he responds his apex drawing near. In perfect rhythm, you move together as one, lost in a blur of ecstasy.

In a frenzy of passion, you rub your throbbing clitoris, eager to experience every ounce of pleasure with him. The wet sounds of skin against skin intensify as Madara pulls out and releases himself onto your trembling stomach, both of you panting heavily from the intense orgasm.

But Madara is not finished with you yet. He leans in close, using his skilled fingers to push you over the edge once more. You writhe and moan under his touch, experiencing a blend of pain and pleasure that only intensifies your arousal. Your body trembles with overwhelming pleasure, your mind engulfed in a wild frenzy of desire as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy.

As you lay there, exhausted and breathless, Madara's lips brushed against yours in a passionate kiss. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice brimming with adoration.

"I like you, Y/N," Madara confessed, causing a flush to spread across your cheeks. "I never intended to use your body for mere physical pleasure. I genuinely care for you." Your heart swelled at his words, and you wrapped your arms around him, unable to contain your feelings any longer.

"I didn’t expect this… but I feel the same way, Madara. I want to see where this goes," You murmured, your voice laced with emotion. "I would love to date you and embark on this journey together." For the first time in weeks, you felt grounded, like the chaos of the past was finally behind you. His arms wrapped around you felt more like a promise than a possessive hold, and you smiled softly into his chest. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t just about sex; it was about finding comfort, trust, and maybe even love in each other. A sense of peace washed over you both, and you realized that this was the start of something far more meaningful than either of you had anticipated.

๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑  ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑ ๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑  ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑ ๋ㅤ ࣭  The End๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑  ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑ ๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑  ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑ ๋ㅤ ࣭  

🔴Previous 🔗Request 5

🔴Fanfiction AU Requests are open! 🔴For those who wish, you can send them anonymously via 🔗Tumblr, 🔗Tellonym, or 🔗AO3 – whatever works best for you!

🔴Rules:🔴

🔴 AU Universe only – Real-world setting, ordinary people, heterosexual relationships, woman x male.

🔴 Characters: Madara only, NO ships, reader x relationships are okay, etc.

🔴 NSFW/SFW requests are welcome.

🚫 I won’t write about kinks such as rape, hardcore BDSM, slavery, underage characters, incest, cheating, or bestiality. No threesomes.🚫 ⛔ If I’m uncomfortable, I will decline the request. I reserve the right to deny any request.

🔴 Anonymity is allowed if you'd like to submit your request anonymously.

🔴 If it takes me longer to post, it’s likely because I’m short on time.

❤️🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​​🇰​​🇸​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​​🇮​​🇴​​🇳​ ❤️

Reblogs are appreciated, it was a fun request, hope you liked it.❤️

Rules for Requests

[bobokitty]

Brain woke me up too early blegh so get this...whatever this is. A vent?

I don't like doing commissions. I don't like the dynamic they set up between me and the other person. It's a pretty miserable experience for me and makes me hate what I draw. The other person has an idea in their head that I'll never be able to match cuz I can't picture it properly.

That said, I do like drawing for others. Gifts and doodles are totally fine. Things where the other person isn't expecting much or anything at all from me. I'm the only one setting expectations and rules. Much lower stakes for my brain.

[side note: Studio work falls into another category where I'm working with others and there's a pretty clear style and goal that I need to hit. It's also working off someone else's art to start with. My brain is fine with this]

I set up ko-fi to see if I could find a medium between the two (though there has yet to be any takers so zero data exists on the successfulness of it for my brain). Having it timed means you get what you get and no revisions. If there are mistakes then there are mistakes and that's now part of the art. That's the idea at least. Also, the pricing kind of highlights how little people tend to charge for commissions.

$15/h is what you make working fast food where I live. It is not enough to afford rent by yourself anywhere here. I know this from experience. $20/h isn't even enough for solo living here but it's a little easier to get by. Five hours into a piece, and you're already hitting $100 (this is all USD btw, yes I live in the US and can only talk about the cost of living here. Don't come at me about how that amount is different in another country. That should be understood; every country has it's own cost of living). So what then if a piece takes at least two days? Two work days = 16 hours. That's $320. Some artists can calculate this stuff and price accordingly, but there are a LOT of smaller artists who will never be able to charge that much. Is it right to say that they are only worth paying $2/h? (US companies sure think so. They love to outsource work to pay people that little) But if you're a small artist, you can't charge more. You can't ask for fair pay because you're lucky for the few eyes you get. It's shitty. It sucks! I wish I was super wealthy so I could just like, pay all these people idk man I've lost my train of thought.

Imma go back to sleep now. No idea how to end this lol. Congrats if you got this far? 🎉🎉🎉

[tagedeszorns]

Warhammer free and legal?

Yesterday I read a comment to a post in which the author said that they had no way of getting Warhammer lore or something similar because they had no money.

And because I can't stand to see someone listening to YouTubers or podcasters who wilfully shorten the lore or don't even bother to understand it because bizarre takes get more clicks than research, I'll throw two completely legal methods into the room here to get your Warhammer fix without spending a single cent!

Firstly: Public libraries!

You can pick up any book still available there. Any. Yes, every one! In many cases even as an e-book! And if it's not in stock, you can get it from the central library. And all this costs nothing! Really! I can only speak about the public libraries in this country, but I've already read a few posts from librarians in other countries and it seems to be the same in most other countries. so, start reading the Heresy right now and don't pay anything for all that drama!

Secondly: Play for free.

Yes, you can! Of course, it's meant as a starter pack, but if you're someone who runs a youth group or something similar (for example, youth fire brigade or sports groups or scouts), you can go to the nearest Warhammer shop and get a slip of paper with which you can order a free starter pack for your group. This will contain a bit of everything and not your favourite faction - but you can play. For free!

Of course GW wants to earn money from us. And I support this by buying their expensive plastic - especially because I hope that there will be new stories about my favourite chaos drama queens for a long time to come! But I'm lucky enough to already have a good job that allows me to afford this luxury.

If you don't, you have these two perfectly legal ways to get your fix.

So - there are no excuses for not getting the lore from the original sources. Nobody has to resort to YouTubers and podcasters! Don't write yourself off - read for yourself! See for yourself!

[sofasoap]

Happy ever after, please stay for a while

Pairing: Simon “Ghost ” Riley x f!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary : interlude to "Love, do not pass me by" . Mini and Emma moving into the new place. Johnny is the best big brother you can have.

Warning: Mature theme , pregnancy. London/UK landmarks described in this fic are just made up by me for plot purposes. English isn’t my first language so expect a lot of mistakes with tenses. Not beta'ed.

A/N : Kind of Continuation/parallel universe of @saltofmercury ’s ““The Favorite MacTavish” , where the reader/OC is Soap’s little sister. PLEASE GO READ HER STORY first to make sense of this story. Thank you for lending me your character!  “masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

" Congratulations.. Mrs...?"

"Just Miss. " " Congratulations Miss MacTavish. Now... Let see... Ah. I can see the baby moving around quite a bit here. " She paused. " Would you like to know the gender of the baby? " " Why not. "

" Let me move around a little bit there... hold still little bub.. Ah there we go, looks like you are having a boy!... OH." " What is it? is there something wrong? " " I can just see another leg around the other side... Miss MacTavish, I think you will need to buy extra set of baby gears. You are carrying twins".

After the..unpleasant announcement, you decided you will forget all about Simon, move on with your life, and bring the babies up yourself. You got support. Your family, your friend Emma, you have a career. In the short time Johnny was staying with you, together with Emma, the three of you started to pack up the flat. You need to find a new place to move into before the little treasures comes into the world. Your current place is just a little two bedroom flat with a small living room and kitchen area, which is just not enough space for extra two babies. You are pretty sure the neighbours wouldn't be appreciating sound of screaming babies day and night. Soap surprised you one day when he hurried both you and Emma into the car, drove you out towards the suburb, not too far away from your current flat. Pulling up in front of a detached house with " Sold " sign, you look at him with confusion. "What are we doing here Johnny?"

" To look at the house." " With a sold sign on it? I thought we are looking for rentals." He smiled, said nothing. Jingling a key, he help you out of the car and head towards the house. It's a beautiful cottage which been looked after. Nice front yard area with a garage/workshop on the side. Emma whistled in awe as she walk through the front door. "Well, this is certainly a nice place, how many bedrooms?"

" Five." " Bit excessive isn't it?? We only need maximum of three, plus how are we going to afford the rent payment? Must cost a bit with the size of it." Johnny dropped the key in your hand. " You and Emma going to move in here. I bought the house. There should be enough space for you two to stay." Two of you just stared at him with wide eyes. HE BOUGHT THIS HOUSE FOR YOU?

" Wait.. what... Did you just say you bought the house? I can't accept this Johnny, Wh.." " You got TWO babies coming soon Mini, I want my niece and nephew have a good environment to grow up in. Plus, It's time for me to set up a base here in London, SAS and SpecGru pays me well enough." You threw yourself onto Johnny and cried. Those damn hormones again. How lucky are you to have a big brother that look out for you, beyond what he needs to do.

He insisted the two of you don't need to pay any rent, just take care of the utility bills will be enough.

" Think of it as being caretakers of my house." he winked at Emma, and dropped into more serious tone. " Also as thank you for taking care of my sister. You been a loyal friend to her."

You look around the nursery. Most of the things are in place now, waiting for the second cot to be delivered. Johnny helped you to assemble most of the stuff before he left for another mission few weeks ago. All you and Emma need to do is slowly unpack rest of the smaller stuff that is still in the boxes. Your mother is also planning to come down a week before your due date. Everything is going smoothly. Standing up, you felt a bit of pain on your upper side of belly. Rubbing it slightly you murmur to the babies to tell them to behave. Taking a step forward, you felt the room starting to spin and vision going blurry.

Last thing you heard before you faint was Emma screaming your name.

Johnny is the best big bro you can ask for.

[cbenedict1123]

CW POLITICS, FAMILIAL ABUSE, TRAUMA, SA.

...

Hello, Mr. Redacted.

I'm writing this letter to you here because I don't know if I will have the courage to tell you this to your face. I have always tended to avoid conflict, and now is no exception, but I really do need to get this off my chest right now.

First off, as you notice from the salutation, I don't really consider you my father. I have not had a father since 2001 when y'all outed me and you shoved me up against a wall and told me that "if my mother got sick because I was a fucking (f-slur), you'd hurt my asshole so bad i wouldn't be able to shit by the time you were through."

So of course, the rest of high school was hell. Most of my adult life until 2019 was hell, because between you and Mrs. Redacted, you did everything in your power to keep me under your thumb. I had to sneak my internet access, I had to maintain my friendships in secret. I couldn't finish college because you refused to help if I was "going to continue to support the gay agenda." I developed a hell of a work ethic, because the more time I spent at work, the less time I would be at home, and now my health and psyche are trashed because of it.

You set to smolder so many potential bridges between us and I've just kind of let them fall apart. This is why I rarely call. This is why I respond to emails that you forward on with a 👍 if at all.

So I know who you voted for. Since I was a kid, I remember the toxic crap that you would have on the radio, the local talk radio station, with Rush Limburger and all those loud, white, male assholes. I remember when Rush Limburger had a television show and you and Mrs Redacted went to it. I remember, especially, in 2001, how the news network that you all became fixated on after 9/11 was the Fox Lies network. I remember seeing it on your television the last time I visited.

So I know you voted for. You said as much yourself, the man is trash, but because of your precious party affiliation, that was who you had to cast your ballot for.

Well, guess what. You are trash too. And, I know exactly why, but it doesn't exempt you. Anyone with a modicum of critical thought and empathy would be able to see that you were formed by the systems in which you grew up (white America in the sixties) and through which you worked (Reaganomics) for all of your life. But that doesn't mean that any of these systems were right, and it doesn't exempt you from doing horrible shit. It doesn't exempt you from your lack of empathy and critical thought, it doesn't exempt you from being accountable for your expressions of homophobia and racism that are such a frequent part of your vernacular now that I can't stand to be around you.

And now you got what you wanted. Your precious party is in control of the country once more. Women, Immigrants, People of Color, and the LGBT+ Community can now be codified as scapegoats rather than simply complained about rhetorically. Rapists can now choose the mothers of their children. States can now choose how human people actually are. Aren't you glad that you're in the demographic that gets to stay human?

But I know that there are going to be other consequences of this Arrangement which will not treat you well. And I am not going to shed any tears when you are hoist by your own petard.

I wonder how you will fare when Healthcare across the United States becomes even more capitalized? When they roll back the Affordable Care Act and the restrictions it placed on how insurers could deny service for pre-existing conditions. Do you remember that? Do you remember during the Bush Administration how you had to consistently downgrade your health insurance to the point where it would only really be effective if you were in a terrible accident? Do you remember how, even with your insurance, your prostate surgery cost more than your gross income over two years? And how long it took to pay it off? How's your PSA level? I know Mrs Redacted was concerned that it was creeping up a little bit. Such a nasty little pre-existing condition. Just a little food for thought.

I wonder how you will fare when, instead of the expected tax cuts that you say Republicans always make sure happen... Don't. Only this time, instead of your tax money actually supporting society, supporting roads, healthcare, Public initiatives, public safety, food safety, all that fun stuff ... your tax money goes to line the pockets of preachers who are already rich, billionaires who are already rich, and, of course, all of those lovely politicians with the red ties that have their heads buried so far up Felonious Fuhrer's ass that they can't tell where he ends and they begin. You're going to get squeezed for more. And you're going to see much less because of it. You already complain about the roads, they're going to get so much worse. You don't have a new car. I already told you what's going to happen with healthcare. What about the price of groceries? What about the price of gasoline? What about the price of electricity? You're bitching about all of those, and instead of opening your mind just a little bit and ticking a box for a candidate who actually made a demonstrable promise to reduce taxes and codify law that prevented price gouging...

I wonder how you'll fare when they dismantle social security. You're definitely not a spring chicken. If I recall correctly, you are older than your father was when he died, so, I guess, good for you, but think about it. You're still working now. The way things are going, you're going to have to keep working. And you know how difficult your industry is. You may not be able to continue being a business owner with the way the economic environment continues to eat itself. Can you imagine being someone else's employee after a lifetime of being a business owner? Can you imagine trying to find work in the current job market? Can you imagine trying to find work when the job market gets even worse? I mean, I'm sure there will be plenty of jobs, when Mango Mussolini and his cronies work on that mass deportation scheme of theirs that's going to cost trillions of dollars, but do you really see yourself, in your seventies, getting a job as a farmhand? A laborer, a maintenance worker? All those essential jobs that your demographic feels you're just too good for? Just saying.

Mrs Redacted told me a few months ago that you cry because of how infrequently I communicate or visit. And then she asked me what the look on my face meant. I didn't tell her.

But I was thinking one word. Good.

I work with the public. And sometimes our clientele overlaps. And people will ask me how you are. And I usually give them some sort of politely non committal response. But I'm just going to start saying that we don't talk. I'm going to tell them that if they want to know how you are, they're going to need to ask you themselves. Like I said, I'm probably not going to say all of these things to your face. Because I try to take the high road when I can. But I don't have very much high road left. Your vote went for someone who is going to ensure that America is every man for himself, so I can't really spare any effort of kindness for you anymore. I have to save it for myself and for my friends and my community, because we are going to suffer because of your choices.

So it's with my feet on the low road that I say this. You're old, you're going to die sooner or later, and when that happens, I'm not going to have any tears to shed for you. I'm not going to have any kind words to say at your funeral, I don't even know if I'll go there. You have thrown away your country, you have thrown away your community, you have thrown away your health, you thrown away your prospect for a comfortable retirement, and you have thrown away your son. You may be able to get some sympathy from the other red hat cultists, "oh, boohoo, my woke kid doesn't talk to me," but you're not going to get enough to live on. And when you die, I hope that you are hungry, you are cold, you are in pain, and you're alone.

No love,

Guy who's probably gonna change his name from Redacted to distance himself from you even more

[the-white-soul]

We've got some good thoughts already, aside from Sans. The only thing he's eager about is quitting. You can't blame him with how hard this all is, but we have to win this case despite that!

Let's see... During the war, we couldn't even manage to take one life while countless monsters died. They were also allowed to make these murders since it's a given of war, but all this means is monsters haven't manage to kill anyone until Asgore's seven souls. Humans are much more bloodthirsty, and most monsters could hardly even hurt humans if they tried. At the point when souls were taken, we were forced to do so just to live free from a barrier which was put in place for no real reason in the first place. Monsters were innocent for the longest time and beaten down on by humans for that one instance with the curious child who absorbed the soul of their already dead friend. The kid didn't even try to harm anyone with it, like Alphys said.

I'd like to say I should go as a witness as well since I also know asgore well and grew up in politics so I know how things work, but then again I didn't perform well last speech and I might ruin this again in addition to sparking some negative reactions just by showing me face.

Speaking of, d'you think people are going to try to take me for murder? Or would the police not care since that human was obviously an idiot? At least I hope it was obvious.

(Kara) "Honestly, I have no idea. How hasn't he been arrested? I'm happy about it but confused." (John) "While you are probably a criminal, you are a criminal of war, so…" (Dess) "It doesn't matter. We have great security." (Kara) "People spraypainted your house." (Dess) "They were protecting you. They are everywhere." (Kara) "Spies cost money." (Dess) "You want to know how we can afford everything? There's one monster who's so popular even some humans give him plenty of money." (Mettaton) "It's me, darlings! You can see why, can't you? I'm so glamorous it connects the world because everyone agrees I'm hot." (Kara) "Whatever pays. Now, one last question." (Dess) "What is it?" (Kara) "What will we do with the Anons?" (Dess) "I was about to ask the same thing."

(Kara) "How many problems can we handle? I feel like I'm about to explode. You can change your voice, as well. Great, now you could all be psychos. 'Hey Kara, did you have enough stress today? No? Well, let's make it so you want to pull out your hair and punch yourself so hard you'll be unconscious. Won't that be great?'Looks around and sees the monsters hiding behind a chair. Sorry, something slipped out. Now, how did you get here? Cause when one person gets in…"

(Kara) "Wait, Chara did this again?" (Dess) "Um, Kara? I don't mean to alarm you too much, but we're not hiding because of you." Kara turns around and sees Chara pop out. (Chara) "Howdy!" (Kara) "Oh shit!" (Chara) "Don't worry, I'm not here because of blood lust. Well, not now. Tee hee. I'm here because I thought a flower would've been my mailman, but he seems too afraid. Don't worry. I'll tell them. Winks. You see, I think you should take this more seriously." (Kara) "Why?" (Chara) "Oh, let's just say monsters will be free one way or another, whether it's by death or love. Most likely both. I guess you've met some of the anons. I thought about giving you a little fun because we all know how boring court dramas can be." (Dess) "Don't you want monsters having less discrimination? How does bringing more hate solve anything?" (Chara) "Well, if you can't handle a simple creature like an anon, you should give up! I promise you I'll make it quick." No one spoke. The wind could've gone 1 MPH, and everyone would've heard it. (Chara) "Okay! If you want a ridiculous trial, then who am I to judge? Good luck! Try not to die to the anons!"

[logically-asexual]

Personal opinion only.. But.. I don't think people who are super wealthy should be promoting their Friends/Family's GoFundMe's. Thomas makes around 300k (Rounding down for benefit of the doubt) a year from his main channel alone and he gets 220k from his Patreon yearly. Half a Million dollars a year and he promotes a friend's Top Surgery fund?

Markiplier did a similar thing when his niece passed away a few years ago and his brothers family wanted help to pay for funeral cost's and to help them have money while they grieved without having to worry about going to work. Mark set a 10k goal and the GoFundMe is still accepting donations to this day and has around 75k donated to it.

Now I know comparing Mark to Thomas isn't quite fair as Mark makes 36 Million a year. But the fact that they both have the means to comfortably afford to help someone yet they ask their communities to do it just rubs me the wrong way. I'm in no way saying this person doesn't deserve to get their Surgery. A lot of people in the Trans community are desperate for this and thousands will never get to have it done because they can't get the money for it.

I'm not speaking from a place of jealousy mind you as I am not Trans myself. I just think promoting one person's Fundraiser over everyone else's is kinda douchy of him. It's going to hit it's goal quite quickly and will go well past the asked for amount and I have a feeling the person it's for will raise the Donation amount even higher for "Other" reasons.

If it was a Fander who caught Thomas's attention and he shared more than one person's Fundraiser I would have 0 issues with this. But he isn't being fair.

God this turned into a nonsense rant. I apologize for that. I just get so much Anxiety when Influencers do shit like this.. 🐸

i am not trans so i can’t speak much when it comes to uncomfortable feelings due to this. however, i do think this situation is way more complicated than just Thomas having some responsibility to share either every gofundme he is sent or none, and to pay for his friend’s surgery himself.

my entire thoughts under the cut:

like. first of all. what Thomas does with his money is entirely up to him. we don’t know how much of what he earns from youtube and patreon and other sources actually goes to his pocket after paying for the crew, the writers, the office rent, the props, the equipment, etc. and after he has paid for those things destined to the youtube channel, whatever he has left for himself is his own money and he decides what to do with it.

also we don’t know Thomas nor Aleks personally, and we don’t know what their relationship is like. how can you be sure that Thomas didn’t offer to pay for the surgery and then Aleks rejected it? not everyone is willing to accept such big sums of money from a single person. or how can you be sure that Thomas isn’t paying already for something another person in his life needs, without being public about it? and therefore doesn’t have the money right now for this, too? how can you be sure what Thomas and Aleks have or haven’t discussed about this topic?

also it was Aleks who set up that gofundme. i would find it weird if Thomas was like “hey. i want to donate 10k to this thing, so i made this donation fund for you to help me.” then i would raise an eyebrow and think why don’t you just make the donation yourself. but this is a very different situation.

this is something very personal and exclusively between those two people and no one else. because the people donating are just donating, not paying in exchange for details about Aleks’ transition or any other personal information. and we can’t assume what is going on further than what they let us know. i think it’s unfair to assume the worst of someone we don’t know.

same goes for assuming Aleks is going to take advantage of the situation in some selfish way and pocket donation money that surpassed what he needed for his surgery. we don’t know why he chose the 10k goal, if he moves the goal up we won’t know his reasons, and we can’t assume they’re greedy or selfish. i can see how we can have a parasocial relationship with Thomas and pretend that we know he’s capable of donating a certain amount of money, but if that’s not a right thing to do, then it’s even less okay to make worse assumptions about Aleks, of whom we barely know the name and have seen his appearance in a couple pictures and videos. we know absolutely nothing about his personal life and financial decisions and it should stay that way.

also, Thomas signed up to be a comedian and artist on youtube, sharing every fund he comes across is not his responsibility. i personally think it’s perfectly understandable that he only shares donation funds when they’re for a friend of his. he knows where the money is going and it’s for a person close to him that he wants to support. being a public figure doesn’t mean you have to help everyone and it’s not immoral to have different standards for your friends and family than for your fans.

i understand that it’s hard to see someone else will probably get the money they need easily just because they happen to be friends with someone popular, specially when you are also in a situation where you could use that money. but that doesn’t mean the whole thing is wrong, or that the people involved are evil for having this advantage in a bad system. (i think the real issue here is the fact that anyone needs to set up a donation fund to pay for gender affirming surgery)

Thomas has a big privilege when it comes to money, among other things, he is aware of it and. i am not an authority on this because i’m clueless about many things, but. i personally think he’s doing a good job at being aware of his privilege and using it to uplift voices of others. he has chosen to use his position to uplift voices of diverse queer people, which is good. one can’t be an activist for every single problem ever. he has found his niche and that is creating art about being queer with queer people for other queer people. and i think that’s a good enough use of his money and time.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Minimum Wage, and beyond

Let's use any store for an example:

Minimum wage is set at $15 an hour.

In order to break even, which is arguably the entire point of a business to begin with. You need to pay your employees hours worked.

That means you need to sell 2 $10 sandwiches an hour per employee. You make cost of ingredients AND pay that employee.

Now, back in the day before utilities were a thing: water, power, refrigeration, ectera... You didn't need EXTRA to pay the utilities. It wasn't a thing. That's why bartering worked, because the shopkeep could sell goods to the next sap to walk in the door.

And, besides from the assholes, rent wasn't a thing. You bought a plot of land, took out a loan to hire a carpenter and built your house and business on the same spot, called it a day. (Or got some buddies and some brewskis and did it yourselves.)

There's building codes, and inspectors, and utilities, and you have to worry about termites, carpenter ants, other pests, mold, mildew, ASBESTOS!

You gotta pay all *that* on top of the doctor that owns the business that you manage for him while he's in the Bahamas. He's never there, he rarely checks in, he just wants to foot the bill for a continuous dividend.

And shit if you fuck it up, or the business is in a location with no foot traffic. (And since it's to expensive to go outside, now you only interface with people delivering to other people! And those other people will give you a bad review when they inevitably receive their food cold.

Did I mention it was good for nothing doctors that recommended asbestos in the first place as a miracle insulation?

So how the f* are you supposed to make enough money to pay yourself, your employees, and your boss AND STILL HAVE ENOUGH TO PAY UTILITIES!

And on top of *that* what's the next step since you don't work for a corporate infrastructure that has hierarchy beyond *some doctor who owns this place*?

Unless you manage to figure out how to convince the doctor landlord to pay you a bonus for making astronomical returns, this is it buddy. This is your life.

I hope you enjoy Pizza.

So how is it possible that anybody make more than that? How is it, that somebody can get a loan of A BILLION DOLLARS. Refuse to pay it back, and then not go to jail? Is it because you'd have to be an idiot to loan out that much? Well if you got that much to lend, it must be fine.

In America, "pawn stars" has ensured that bartering is like an old fashioned nearly ancient way to make money. Goods are money, disposable items means you can't sell anything. Hell, I've never seen anything at a garage sale go for more than a couple bucks.

The goods as currency just doesn't work if everybody is just waiting to "storage wars" your old stuff when you can't pay your mortgage anymore. It's not value, it's icing for land owners and banks.

So tell me, how is value store supposed to work for the average person? We need to spend money to eat, and for the economy to work, it's mathematically impossible to make ends meet at a business that sells food if the local population doesn't come eat at your establishment.

On a macro scale, what we have isn't working at all.

It wasn't working when minimum wage was $7 it isn't working with minimum wage at $15. We checked the math twice.

How do you ensure an employee can afford room and board, and still have time to participate in politics to ensure a working government and economy?

That is the questions we're trying to answer as we look at the entire system from a macro perspective.

We have to ensure that the plumbers, and the farmers, and the electricians and the mechanics can all get paid a living wage, but they cannot if there is nobody who can afford their services.

So how do we make sure, that the "dirty jobs" that "nobody wants to do" actually have demand for use, AND return on investment to the individual doing them?

I think, that it should be illegal for a residential unit to be used on AirBnB. I think, that they should have to be zoned like regular inns and hotels. I also think, that if somebody who *owns* the house they're living in, or you know, has a mortgage. Then you should mind your own damn business if they have an OnlyFans. unless they're keeping you up at night, or out in the streets, I don't think you should care.

I also think that rental housing should also follow the same rules for Hotels and apartments. They should be zoned for that, and they shouldn't count towards the theoretical residential housing that the city thinks they have.

At the very least, it'll ensure that there's a supply of people nearby to buy pizza from Dr. Pizza's Pizza and Law office.

And you'll be able to keep track of your homelessness issue.

[rosiedoestumblr]

40 looks so good on you, Ms. Rosie! I hope I’m as cool as you when I’m 40. I’m currently 28, and aging kind of scares me, but it’s people like you that make me feel like there’s nothing to be scared of. 🩷 Thanks for sticking around the internet (specifically Fall Out Boy spaces) as long as you have, it’s always quite a treat to see you on my dash. Have a good day!!

Aw, thanks dude! That's such a nice thing to say (I think you may be mistaken about exactly how cool I am, though). I know I'm really fortunate that having Sicilian genes and a chubby face disguises some of the ageing process, but bear in mind that (as with most people) the pictures I share are probably one or two out of 30 I took to find a couple from a good angle, with good lighting, possibly a Norfolk Terrier or a scarf over my chin to hide how many of them I've cultivated in the last 20 years... I also tend to keep my make up (except my eyeliner) quite natural, because I find that helps keep you looking fresh faced - but that principle shouldn't dictate what you wear.

Here is my stupid face right now, without make up and with unwashed hair. I developed adult acne after having immaculate skin when I was a teenager, possibly because my dog keeps standing on it or licking all over it. I have OCD and what is (appointment pending) probably about to be diagnosed as ADHD, so I'm a chronic skin picker, hence the scars all over my chin and forehead. I've also got fine lines under my eyes, bottom lip and on my forehead, but automatic settings on modern phone cameras kind of smooth the worst of them out.

The whole thing about getting older can be scary, but mostly because we've all been raised on the Boomer-generation's expectations, through movies, TV, adverts and the like, and a lot has changed. We're really fortunate to live at a time where being yourself is much more acceptable than it used to be, in most (although sadly not all) cases. Every advert you see is specifically designed to make you feel inadequate and make you fear irrelevance, but only so they've got an excuse to sell you something you can live without. Whether that's a fancier car or anti-wrinkle cream.

You don't actually have to do the stuff that really ages you, unless you want to. You can keep going to shows (to be honest, gigs have got so expensive we see more people our age there than younger people, who often struggle to afford what bands are asking). You can keep wearing band shirts. You can keep dying your hair and getting tattoos. You can keep being passionate about it. You're a grown ass adult, it's down to you to make your own choices. You don't have to give up what you love, but sometimes you have to be creative about the time you find in which to enjoy it. And you'll appreciate that more.

I've never wanted kids, so I haven't had any.

I never went to uni, but I fell into a career that pays me alright, and it's not an industry I care a lot about (I'm a gas safety contract manager) but I see it as a resource that allows me to do the things that I really want to, the rest of the time.

It's important to remember to live your own life, not the life someone else - anyone else - wants you to. You have to be pragmatic, obviously, and if you choose to settle down with another person then give and take will always be necessary, but don't ever let someone tell you what you can and can't be interested in because of your age (except you, Prince Andrew) or what you can or can't spend your own spare time and disposable cash doing. Keep loving the things you love, if they still captivate you. Fuck anyone who would tell you otherwise! It's the joylessness of giving up your identity to become nothing but your life obligations that costs you the most.

For my part, I'm pretty squarely between Patrick and Andy, age-wise. Fall Out Boy are my generation. We've grown up together, in a fannish sense. It's not like a TV show might be, where the characters are still young and I've gotten old in the last 18 years, they're still relatable to me, even now. Which is probably a lot of the reason I'm still here, specifically.

Watching the waves of new fans discovering the band over the years has been fun, really. Partly because it makes us truly geriatric emos feel like mystical sages sitting on the lonely mountain tops of Old Timer Fandom, offering anecdotes from bandom drama long ago, to young adventurers who approach us with news from the mists of TikTik to ask if things really happened, and witnessing the same things happening cyclically, every couple of years.

New blood means Pete will feel validated and Patrick will feel relevant they'll continue to feel they have something to offer/sell (look what happened when an album didn't do as well...) and it's hard to fault that.

Focus on enjoying your life and your interests as they are now (although do think about saving some of your money when you can, because you'll thank yourself later) and fuck worrying about everything else. You'll find you don't feel any different, when you get where I am, than you do now, anyway.

You have a good day, too. And thanks again for saying such kind things. xoxo