#unless there's a massive price drop years from now

[phantomrose96]

Actually I have a post I want to make about Property Value.

Which is a topic that comes up a lot in discussions of rich people hoarding wealth, in NIMBY panics, and in the ever-increasing prices of homes. But I don't think we talk much about how the perniciousness of property value goes deeper and basically holds middle class people who own a home hostage.

So to set some context here: in 2025 the median US home sold for $416,000. Say you have a working class family who can't meet median, but who scraped and saved and penny-pinched their way to a $300,000 home.

Typically, when buying a first home, you pay 20% down directly, and take 80% out as a mortgage from the bank. For this family, that means $60,000 of their liquid money (and let's say it took them 10-15 years to save that amount), and a $240,000 loan from the bank.

That's $240,000 in debt the family is. Which will be repaid over 30 years, with interest, at a rate that usually means for the lifetime of the loan, they end up paying back double the original loan.

However this massive $240,000 debt is generally considered "okay" debt to have, because it's backed by the house. If things go truly sour, the bank can take the house (and what's a little homelessness between friends).

That $60,000 the family put down is considered equity, and equity is money you "have", but isn't accessible.

Scenario: Now let's say something happens. Someone in the family loses their job, and the only job they can find requires moving. Or a family member across the country can't care for themselves anymore and so this family needs to move to be closer to them. The family gets divorced. Someone in the family is allergic to material in the home. Someone in the family is being stalked or abused and needs to leave the town. Anything at all, which would require selling the home and moving.

Case 1: The family is able to sell it for exactly what they paid (same property value, no increase or decrease). You would think the math is clean. They are paid $300,000 for the house. $240,000 repays the bank loan. The remaining $60,000 of equity goes right back to them. And they can use it (which took 10+ years to save up) to move across the country and buy a different $300,000 house.

Except no, it does not work like that.

The seller of a home is on the hook to pay commission to their realtor and the buyer's realtor. This is usually ~6% of the home value. They have to pay legal costs. There are taxes. There are miscellaneous costs. It can easily be 6-9% of the selling price of the house.

The bank NEEDS its $240,000 back. So those costs come from the equity. This family is not getting their $60,000 back. They're getting $30,000-$45,000, and now no longer enough money for a downpayment in their move. They're back to renting. Back to penny pinching. They can get by, but homeownership is now out of their grasp once more. Maybe in another 5 years, they'll have enough (unless home prices have increased too much by then) then they'll maybe never be homeowners again.

Case 2: The property value has DECREASED... Family is only getting offers in the $260,000 range.

If the family accepts a $260,000 sale, well $240,000 goes to the bank. This is genuinely non-negotiable. And that leaves.... maybe not enough money to even close on the house. Not enough to pay the realtors and the fees.

That $60,000 is wiped out, and the family is incapable of moving. Never mind losing 10+ years of savings--they're below $0. They don't have the money to close. It's financially impossible to sell. They are stuck with the mortgage. They are stuck with the house. (Maybe they'll rent it, if they can. And now they're landlords by circumstance, which is often NOT profitable when you're not a trust fund baby renting out a totally-paid-for no-mortgage home.) But whatever the case, they cannot sell it. And if the reason for selling was a job loss... well, they can be homeless soon. And if the property value dropped below $240,000, they can be homeless AND owe a bank debt. A $60,000 nest egg wiped completely out, with a bank debt owed on top of that.

So how do people avoid financial destitution when moving?

The most sensible answer is building up equity by paying down the loan--but it's important to know that mortgages are super interest heavy in the early life of the loan. With a 5% interest rate (BETTER, btw, than current rates) this family would be paying $15,460 the first year, and only $3,540.88 is actually chipping at that $240,000 principle. The other $11,919.59 was pure interest to the bank.

So after 1 year, the family went from having $60,000 equity in the house to $63,540.88 equity in the house. This buys a little extra wiggle room when juggling closing costs. But not very much. Even after 3 years, the family has just a little over $70,000 of equity, and just under $230,000 still left on the loan. So if the family has to move for any reason (sickness! death! job loss!) in those 3 years, it's probably financially devastating.

But there is a second answer to avoiding financial ruin: and that is Property Value going up.

Any amount of property value increase is PURE equity. The bank only cares about the amount of money it gave you. If after 3 years, that house is now worth (and can sell for) $315,000 (which is appreciation of only 1.6% a year. Most home appreciation is closer to 3%), that's more equity increase than they got from 36 diligent months of mortgage payment.

If they can sell for $315,000, pay $230,000 of that to the bank, that leaves $85,000. $25,000 goes to paying the realtors and the closing costs and.... the family is back to their $60,000 downpayment. Not trapped. Able to sell. Able to buy a new $300,000 home in the place they moved. Able to just maintain homeownership status.

But wait, if their home appreciated to $315,000, didn't all the other homes do the same, so now $60,000 isn't enough

Smart eye, lad! You've identified why this is a TERRIBLE rat race for the people scraping money together to live, and is ONLY a profitable leisure activity for rich people who sell homes like collectables.

Now because the increase is pure equity, a similar family with decent property value increase can funnel that extra equity into affording to meet the new higher down payment (remember the downpayment is only 20%, so even if the new place is similarly higher in property value, you only need to match that increase 20% for the downpayment). Which gets their foot in the door. But now their new mortgage is higher than the old one. More expensive. More interest.

But there is a losing scenario here--if home property values increased everywhere else, but not where you live. Then this family is back to surrendering homeownership. Because even if they can sell their place, they can't buy the next home.

It forces them to care about their own Property Value increase because, if it doesn't increase while everywhere else does, it traps them.

So what do I mean by all this

If the value of all homes dropped 50% overnight, I assume most people here would celebrate. Affordable homes! Rich people upset and crying! So much to love.

But in reality, that 50% drop would likely continue to mean no home for most of us, because the people who could sell you the homes would be financially incapable.

For the family above with the $240,000 mortgage, that mortgage does not reach halfway-paid-off until year 20 of the 30 year mortgage (remember the interest frontloading). If a family still owes $230,000 in bank loans on a place that can only sell for $150,000, they can't sell it to you. That house is the bank's collateral securing the loan. Their mortgage is underwater. They're trapped. They cannot sell it. You cannot have it.

Something similar happened in the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis, and the only people who got out okay were ones who could stay the course, keep making the mortgage payments, and wait it out long enough for property value to recover.

Those who couldn't got foreclosed on. Those who couldn't were left in financial devastation.

So in conclusion?

Banks profit off of mortgages. Rich people profit off of hoarding housing stock and selling it as the property value increases. Real estate companies profit off of home sales. And the regular people, who managed to achieve home ownership, are shackled to the price-go-up system to avoid financial ruin. They're forced to care about their property value because it is the singular determinant of whether they're trapped in place, whether they'll be okay if they lose their job, whether they could move due to an important life event.

It's a profit system for the rich where the cogs are middle class people who could achieve homeownership, running a machine where every single crank locks the poorer and younger generations out of home ownership forever.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

April 4, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Apr 05, 2025

The stock market rout continued today. As expected, China announced retaliatory tariffs in response to those President Donald Trump announced on Wednesday. Chinese leaders say they will impose a 34% tariff on all U.S. goods imported into China next Thursday. Apparently, Trump did not think China would respond to his tariffs, and tried to sound as if he was still in control of the situation.

Trump is spending a long weekend in Florida, where he is attending the LIV golf tournament at his Doral club. But at 8:25 this morning, he reposted on his social media channel a video in which the narrator claimed that Trump is crashing the markets on purpose. The video claimed that legendary investor Warren Buffet “just said Trump is making the best economic moves he’s seen in over fifty years.” It went on to explain how “the secret game he’s playing” “could make you rich.” Buffett’s conglomerate Berkshire Hathaway quickly denied Buffett had said any such thing as the video claimed. “All such reports are false,” it said. In March, Buffett called tariffs “an act of war, to some degree.”

Then, about an hour before the U.S. markets opened, Trump posted on his social media channel: “CHINA PLAYED IT WRONG, THEY PANICKED—THE ONE THING THEY CANNOT AFFORD TO DO!” About twenty minutes later, he posted: “TO THE MANY INVESTORS COMING INTO THE UNITED STATES AND INVESTING MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF MONEY, MY POLICIES WILL NEVER CHANGE. THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO GET RICH, RICHER THAN EVER BEFORE!!!”

When the markets opened, they plummeted again. During trading today, the Dow Jones Industrial Average fell 2,231 points, or 5.5%, on top of the 1,679 points it fell yesterday. The S&P 500 fell 5.97% following the 4.84% it lost yesterday. The Nasdaq Composite dropped a further 5.8% after yesterday’s drop of nearly 6%. Oil prices also fell sharply despite the fact that Trump had exempted the U.S. energy industry from tariffs, as traders anticipate lower economic growth and thus less demand for gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel.

Twenty-five minutes before the market closed, Trump posted: “ONLY THE WEAK WILL FAIL!”

After-market trading continued downward.

Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell said today that Trump’s tariffs are “highly likely” to increase inflation and risk throwing people out of work. Economists at JPMorgan now place the odds of global recession at 60% unless the tariffs are ended.

Natalie Allison, Jeff Stein, Cat Zakrzewski, and Michael Birnbaum of the Washington Post reported how Trump came to impose the tariffs. After aides from a number of different government agencies came up with options for Trump to review, he decided instead on a different option, one that has drawn ridicule because it is crude and has nothing to do with tariffs at all. He reached the amounts of tariff levies by dividing the trade deficit of each nation (not including services) by the value of its imports and then dividing the final number by 2.

The reporters note that Trump didn’t land on a plan until less than three hours before he announced it, and made his choice with little input from business or foreign leaders. Neither Republican lawmakers nor the president’s team knew what Trump would do. “He’s at the peak of just not giving a f*ck anymore,” a White House official told the reporters. “Bad news stories? Doesn’t give a f*ck. He’s going to do what he’s going to do. He’s going to do what he promised to do on the campaign trail.”

While right-wing media and Republican lawmakers have worked hard to spin the economic crisis sparked by Trump’s tariffs, Financial Times chief data reporter John Burn-Murdoch used charts on social media to show that Americans are not happy. Consumers give Trump’s economic plan the worst ratings of any administration’s economic policy since records began. He has had the same impact on economic uncertainty as the global coronavirus pandemic did. Almost 60% of Americans expect the economy to deteriorate over the next year, and they are very worried about job losses.

Burn-Murdoch noted that despite the attempt of right-wing media to hide the crisis, more than half of Americans have heard unfavorable business news coverage of the government’s policies. While MAGA continues to approve of Trump, he’s rapidly losing support among the rest of the coalition that put him into office.

The administration apparently doesn’t care much more about the law than it does about the reactions to the tariffs that are crashing the economy. Today, U.S. District Court judge Paula Xinis ordered the government to bring back to the United States no later than 11:59 p.m. on April 7 a legal resident it mistakenly sent to a notorious prison for terrorists in El Salvador. On Monday, administration lawyers told the court that the government had swept up Kilmar Abrego Garcia because of an “administrative error” but that it could not bring him back because he was outside the reach of American laws.

Priscilla Alvarez and Emily R. Condon of CNN note that in a hearing about the case, Xinis said that Abrego Garcia, who was in the U.S. legally and was not charged with any crimes, was arrested last month “without legal basis” and was deported “without justification of legal basis.” “This was an illegal act,” Xinis said. “Congress said you can’t do it, and you did it anyway.”

Trump’s deputy chief of staff, Stephen Miller, responded to the judge’s order by calling Xinis a “Marxist judge” who “thinks she’s president of El Salvador.” The White House responded to the judge’s order by saying, “We suggest the Judge contact President Bukele [of El Salvador] because we are unaware of the judge having jurisdiction or authority over the country of El Salvador.”

Legal analyst Steve Vladeck responded that while a U.S. federal court cannot order the Salvadoran government to release Abrego Garcia, the U.S. government should be able to secure his release. If it can—and in this case it should be able to—the court can order it to do so.

If that were not the case, the administration could simply get rid of anyone it wanted to by sending them to a prison outside the jurisdiction of the United States and then claiming it had no way to get them back.

Tonight, as the economy is in turmoil, Trump is speaking at a $1 million-per-person candlelight fundraising dinner at the Trump Organization's Mar-a-Lago property for the super PAC, MAGA Inc., that supports Trump. By law, MAGA Inc. can’t coordinate with Trump’s campaign organization, so the invitations for the dinner say that Trump is simply a guest speaker and is not asking for donations.

The terrible storms in the middle of the country continue. Authorities have issued flash flood emergencies in parts of Missouri, Texas, and Arkansas, and heavy rains are also expected in Kentucky.

Finally, four soldiers who died when their military vehicle sank in a deep swamp in Lithuania during a training exercise came home to Dover Air Force Base, in Dover, Delaware, today. Their recovery took about 200 U.S., Polish, Estonian, and Lithuanian personnel a week and required drones, search dogs, Navy divers, and ground-penetrating radar, as well as 70 tons of sand and gravel.

“We consider US soldiers in Lithuania as our own,” the Lithuanian Defense Ministry said after thousands of people joined Lithuanian president Gitanas Nausėda and other dignitaries in a dignified departure ceremony of the soldiers from Lithuania. “The farewell ceremony once again demonstrated our society's solidarity, respect, and gratitude to the Americans.”

—

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[rennorthernlights]

Having unhealthy thoughts about John Price but as a God.

TW- Blood, mentions of death, John wanting a wife and kids. (Give that man a baby pls)

GodJohn whose’s the God of Battlefields, Logic, Weaponry, Cunning and so on. GodJohn that has a massive temple that many soldiers go to for his blessings. GodJohn that is also a Protector of Families and Children, that when called upon he’ll be on the edge of the property line guarding and waiting.

GodJohn that stands tall and fierce, rarely bleeding the gold that is his lif-blood. GodJohn that prefers smoked offerings and devotional and sacred acts over gifts, wealth, and baseless physical offerings. If given a gift then it has to really mean something from the giver. Something that took time and care to give.

He does prefer to have people devote themselves to him though. What better way to prove that you’re worthy of protection than to devote yourself to him?

Countless years of battle that hounds him into well powerful killing machine. Any blade working effortlessly in his hand just as well as the reins of an animal. GodJohn that has taken part in battles and wars for the thrill. That as much as he craves fighting he will also put more at stake to protect innocents. Like a bloodhound that can just sniff out whose’s good and whose’s bad.

After centuries he finally thinks of something other than War and Fighting. GodJohn that wants a wife, that wants to settle down and have children. GodJohn that only cared about winning until he would see the soldiers he blessed come home to their families and thinking, “I want that. No— I need that.” He hasn’t lost before in a battle and matters of the heart are no different. Now he wants to win the heart of the pretty girl that lives near his main temple.

A walking temptation that smells earthy and sweet, a mix of something far more potent than just human. Far too many times he’s tempted to scoop her up and keep her away. But can’t due to his own self-imposed rule of not intervening. Doesn’t mean he won’t leave gifts for her. Best cut meats and furs, dresses, knives, handmade necklaces, anything he’d believe would be good.

Though his patience is thinning whenever he ‘accidentally’ catches her bathing in the lake by the forests. ‘Accidentally’ watching the water drop down her unmarred skin. Purely coincidental that her clothes might go missing as she laughs and plays in the water, after all it’s a forest. Animals could’ve taken it.

GodJohn that is nearly coming down from the heavens when his woman runs and stumbles into his temple. Bleeding out and wounded, the villagers chanting to “Grab the witch!! Burn the witch!!” No doubt that must be the reason that she came in since she’s never stepped foot in before.

GodJohn on the edge of his throne keeping his eyes solely on her as her bloodied hands grasp his statue and starts to beg as the villagers pound against the wooden door that won’t hold for long. He cannot move and intervene unless called upon but his resolve is waning.

“Come on little dove, say it. Say what I need to hear.” Thick, scarred hands clenching as he’s standing up at the ready. Already grabbing his sword, darken blue eyes solely on the woman so helplessly bleeding out onto his sacred statue. Her blood staining the marble floors like a lamb to the slaughter.

Breath catching in his throat as she opens her mouth, his heart practically stopping to strain to hear her meek and mumbled prayer.

“Oh, great God of the Battlefield. Hear my plea. Protect me and my life is yours!”

Shaky breaths as the wooden door cracks, the yells of anger outside making everything seem oh so hopeless. Promising a violent end. Tears falling down her face as she curls and waits for her death that will surely come. Her plea must’ve fallen on deaf ears until a thundering voice booms from within the temple. The ground shaking.

“I’ve heard your plea, little dove. You are mine.”

[ahiddenpath]

Chat and Update

This one is partial update, and partial chat about something that has been on my mind: the natural deterioration of objects, and what that means for my consumerism habits.

Life Update

I've been working ridiculously hard lately. It's alright, and I'm doing great work. I made huge progress on our IgA1 work, which is enormous because the company has never been able to get IgA1 before me (aka it's been passed through a few people with no progress). I also am working on potential treatments for a type of secondary infection that currently has no treatment, so that could be meaningful.

Basically, challenging, fast paced, high volume work.

Also, since moving labs, I've started burning about 2,500-2,800 calories per day and getting 20-80 elevated heart rate minutes just from... Doing my work. I've lost three pounds in two weeks without, like... Making any changes beyond cutting out sugary drinks, snacks that are not fruit, and just doing my work.

My hands are full right now, and I'm exhausted mentally and physically. I do think I'm in the beginning stages of adapting to the huge increase in physical activity. I hope my body catches up, but like. Hm, I'm torn between appreciating a good job with fair pay and challenging/meaningful work and lamenting how hard I have to work and how tired I am.

Creatively, the create ins at the Camp Digimonth server have been my only creative time, so that's a massive drop off. Right now I am forced to focus on my physical state.

But let's talk about what I'm itching to discuss!!!

Natural Deterioration of Objects and Consumerism

So one of my hobbies is ball jointed dolls. I've been collecting dolls and accessories for them since 2008, so at this point, I have a large collection of both. Recently, I took stock of my collection, and...

I found knit clothes with holes in them, the threads disintegrated. Shoes with peeling leather and plastic. Buttons and applied details that fell off, broken buckles, even a shoe where the heel somehow separated from the sole (?!?!?!).

I take great care of my stuff, and obviously my dolls don't damage their clothes. So, like, wtf? I spoke to a friend about it, and she said that all objects degrade over time... But a lot of objects degrade faster if they are not used, which feels so contrary to what I'd assume. And logically, even if a doll is dressed in clothes and shoes, she isn't "using" them in the sense of... Placing wear and tear on them.

This really made me think about the excess stuff in my house. To be clear, my house isn't cluttered, and I'm generally on top of keeping things organized and displayed nicely. However, my family is huge on gift giving, and on giving me their hand-me-downs. I realized the other day that I had never purchased my own coat and had only purchased a few pairs of shoes in my life, as I keep receiving new and gently used ones.

I went into my closet and cleared everything that I hadn't bought myself, unless I use it routinely, and some of the things I bought ten years ago that, while nice, are no longer used now that I just... Am older and don't have the same tastes. I do what I always do, which is: start by offering certain things to friends and family (based on their tastes, or at least my understanding of them), then separating out what can be sold, then donating the rest to a place that sells all items for $5 and donates work clothes to people who cannot afford them.

I used ebay for the first time, and there is a bit of a learning curve. I thought it was kind of nice to like... Send these things out into the world. I realize I'm romanticizing, but if the items sits in my house, unused, it will quietly deteriorate instead of being enjoyed. So even if I sell something for a low price compared to the new price, I feel happy that the item has moved on.

Anyway, items degrade if we use then, and paradoxically, if we don't. So excess purchases are a bad idea all around, as is holding on to things we don't use (obviously, exceptions for certain things). These days, when I shop, I picture the item quietly degrading and ask myself: do I want to upkeep this? Am I willing to patiently glue or sew this back together? Wipe off the dust? Store it when it's not in use? If so, where? It makes it easier to fight the rampant consumerism that everyone living in a capitalistic country faces.

Except for notebooks. I literally bought one yesterday...

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some doll clothes to patch.

[nickgerlich]

Back To Size...Again

I laughed yesterday when I read another installment of the “Size Matters” debate. Earlier this week we read about how some people were “disappointed” that the Burger King Whopper in photos was not anywhere near as big as the ones being served.

And now comes an interesting retail debate being played out between JC Penney and Macy’s, both time-honored participants in the effort to keep Americans clothed and their homes filled with housewares. Both chains have suffered through some very tough times this century, with both shuttering numerous storefronts.

Interestingly JC Penney was acquired in 2020 by what may appear as strange bedfellows, competing major mall owners Simon Property Group and Brookfield. The duo just allowed Authentic Brands Group to buy a 17% stake in the company.Apparently the threesome thinks the JCP brand still has a lot of value.

But for Simon and Brookfield, though, buying Penneys ensured they would have at least one major tenant in their enclosed malls, a wobbly proposition if there has been one the last few decades. Even more intriguing is that, while Simon and Brookfield are up to their necks in retail, they actually don’t know anything about how to run a store.. They just know how to manage malls.

JC Penney is Middle America, though, and on par with another giant in the field, Kohls. Together, they provide affordable products to a huge portion of the US. But JCP has made one mistake after another, first ditching weekly sales in favor of EDLP (Everyday Low Prices), then reinstating the old model, and also being one of the first to offer their complete catalog on a Facebook page more than a decade ago. As forward-thinking as that was, we simply were not ready for it. Recently, JCP lost its beauty collaborator Sephora, who jumped ship and moved over to rival Kohls.

Penneys just announced they are putting $1 billion into operations and the customer experience, improving everything from the technology running it all, to supply chain matters and merchandising. They are trying hard under the new owners to pull out of bankruptcy, but revenues and profits are dropping fast. Rather than close more stores, they are doubling down. And, perhaps most importantly for this discussion, they are not going to shrink stores.

Macy’s just entered the chat, because they are doing the opposite. Instead of trying to operate massive mall anchor stores, they are going the downsize route, with pared-down storefronts now opening in strip malls. Rents are cheaper, and at least on paper, access is probably easier than having to deal with behemoth malls. Apparently they figure they can increase sales per square foot by focusing on best-selling products, and getting rid of the rest.

But the comparison ends abruptly there, because Macy’s is more on par with Dillards, and while these two also carry clothing and housewares, they are at very different price points compared to JCP as well as Kohls. If you like Thanksgiving parades, Macy’s is your pal. Well, as long as you are good with paying nearly $100 for a Polo shirt.

Given the inflation we have endured the last couple of years, as well as lingering fears that a recession is still right around the corner, consumers are delaying a lot of purchases as long as they can. Market uncertainties can make people do that, and any time we can kick the can down the road so to speak, it makes sense.

And that’s where JCP and Kohls look to have good upside potential. An uncertain economy means that people are more willing to trade down if they buy at all. The problem for JCP is achieving relevancy among its target customers, many of whom have allowed the name to slip from top-of-mind to out-of-mind. It is teetering on the same dowdy image that Sears acquired by selling clothing that my dearly departed old aunt would wear. That’s not a good look, unless you are 80.

The opportunity is there for JCP, though, especially given the economic uncertainties. The fact that its ownership group is investing $1 billion is extremely good fortune for a company that would have otherwise become another entry in the book of dead retail chains. It’s just that this money must be spent wisely, from a complete makeover in merchandising, to a fashion-forward digital presence as well. That’s not to say it needs to mimic F21 or H&M, but it does need to work on its coolness factor.

I have been to the Amarillo Penneys store in the last few years, and all I can say is that it is a train wreck. It was a little more than two years ago when I last visited, and I walked out in disgust, it was that bad. Merch was strewn all over, garments were hanging haphazardly, stockouts were rampant, and it looked like nobody gave a sh*t. At that point, I did not either.

Sure, being owned by mall owners is a lot like being owned by the government. You’re probably not going to fail. It’s also a mutually beneficial relationship. Here’s to the new Macy’s on its way to a smaller footprint across America, and to JCP with its continued format. May they both find their way through the morass of today’s economy.

Dr “With Or Without Me” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[lastoneout]

Like I need y'all to realize that "a laptop costs as much as a new iphone" isn't a valid argument because people do not drop $900 all at once on a phone. The phone company gives you the phone for like one fourth the price or less upfront and then you pay it off for a few years alongside your phone bill. Also, most people, if forced to chose between a smart phone and a computer are going to pick the smart phone. That's just the world we live in now.

But you can't really do the whole pay it off slowly with a laptop(unless you go through like Rent a Center or something similar and you really shouldn't do that, or go into credit card debt which is also not great). And yes there are cheap laptops(and most of them suck ass and break after a year), but if someone genuinely doesn't need one(bcs capitalism has pushed us away from needing computers to instead doing everything through apps on phones and tablets which is a massive problem but is also still HAPPENING and growing up like that isn't gen z and alpha's fault) and maybe only thinks about computers in terms of like custom built gaming towers used by big twitch streamers or the pc their dad bought to work from home on then yeah a computer is out of their budget and they are probably going to think people who own one are rich even tho the VAST MAJORITY of people save up to buy their computers or slowly over a long period purchase all the parts they need to build one or got it gifted to them by a family member who actually does have a lot of disposable income or literally had it handed to them by their job or bought it with a credit card.

This isn't a "haha zoomers are out of touch idiots" post. This is a "owning anything nice, be it a computer or designer clothes or a car or whatever does not mean you're rich" post. Because "anyone who owns even one nice thing must not actually be poor" is an old as dirt conservative talking point used to deny impoverished people the aid they so desperately need, and I HATE seeing leftists use it because no one ever fucking explained to them that owning a PS5 doesn't make you on par with fucking Elon Musk or Taylor Swift.

People saying only rich people own computers are wrong, but not because computers are cheap, it's because computers aren't always prohibitively expensive and often times are gifts or were bought before the person fell into poverty or with their stimulus check or whatever. People shouting eat the rich at the average poor person who managed to scrape together a few hundred bucks for a shitty laptop or got half a computer gifted to them by friends and only had to buy a few parts aren't the rich we should be eating.

And those of you saying "computers aren't even that expensive good lord these out of touch gen z idiots need to go back to school" are fucking wrong bcs computers ARE expensive and in a world pivoting so hard to tablets and phones a lot of people straight up don't need one and will thus probably assume it's a worthless, frivolous purchase made only by people who have disposable income, and while I can very much understand being exasperated by that argument(I am currently very exasperated if you couldn't tell) acting like kids are stupid and need to shut up isn't actually solving the problem.

The only people who are actually out of touch are the ones who are mad that I didn't include people who don't own computers in my post about owning computers. The bean soup types. Make fun of them, I won't stop you. But this is like the clearest example of the generational divide and how older leftists have failed to explain to the younger folks amongst us that we have legit had to spend years listening to conservatives critiquing poor people for using their food stamps to buy a bag of gummy bears or owning a fucking refrigerator and saying every poor person should sell all of their belongings before even considering signing up for government aid, and that's NOT a valid argument. Y'all sound like the assholes who get mad at homeless people for owning cell phones, you can't doctor that argument until it's progressive, it's INHERENTLY flawed.

Poor people own nice things sometimes, that doesn't make them rich. And in this day and age a lot of people don't need computers and thus will naturally think owning one means you clearly have disposable income because they don't know that having some disposable income isn't the same thing as being a billionaire. And the first group being so condescending to second group(because yeah nothing changes people's minds like blatant condescension) isn't solving any fucking problems. Explain why it's wrong. Don't just assume gen z is stupid for not being taught how to view class and poverty.

Okay everyone shut the fuck up now, I'm done.

This website is too mobile focused these days. Reblog and tell me what your desktop/laptop background is.

[misfitwashere]

April 4, 2025

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

APR 5

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The stock market rout continued today. As expected, China announced retaliatory tariffs in response to those President Donald Trump announced on Wednesday. Chinese leaders say they will impose a 34% tariff on all U.S. goods imported into China next Thursday. Apparently, Trump did not think China would respond to his tariffs, and tried to sound as if he was still in control of the situation.

Trump is spending a long weekend in Florida, where he is attending the LIV golf tournament at his Doral club. But at 8:25 this morning, he reposted on his social media channel a video in which the narrator claimed that Trump is crashing the markets on purpose. The video claimed that legendary investor Warren Buffet “just said Trump is making the best economic moves he’s seen in over fifty years.” It went on to explain how “the secret game he’s playing” “could make you rich.” Buffett’s conglomerate Berkshire Hathaway quickly denied Buffett had said any such thing as the video claimed. “All such reports are false,” it said. In March, Buffett called tariffs “an act of war, to some degree.”

Then, about an hour before the U.S. markets opened, Trump posted on his social media channel: “CHINA PLAYED IT WRONG, THEY PANICKED—THE ONE THING THEY CANNOT AFFORD TO DO!” About twenty minutes later, he posted: “TO THE MANY INVESTORS COMING INTO THE UNITED STATES AND INVESTING MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF MONEY, MY POLICIES WILL NEVER CHANGE. THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO GET RICH, RICHER THAN EVER BEFORE!!!”

When the markets opened, they plummeted again. During trading today, the Dow Jones Industrial Average fell 2,231 points, or 5.5%, on top of the 1,679 points it fell yesterday. The S&P 500 fell 5.97% following the 4.84% it lost yesterday. The Nasdaq Composite dropped a further 5.8% after yesterday’s drop of nearly 6%. Oil prices also fell sharply despite the fact that Trump had exempted the U.S. energy industry from tariffs, as traders anticipate lower economic growth and thus less demand for gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel.

Twenty-five minutes before the market closed, Trump posted: “ONLY THE WEAK WILL FAIL!”

After-market trading continued downward.

Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell said today that Trump’s tariffs are “highly likely” to increase inflation and risk throwing people out of work. Economists at JPMorgan now place the odds of global recession at 60% unless the tariffs are ended.

Natalie Allison, Jeff Stein, Cat Zakrzewski, and Michael Birnbaum of the Washington Post reported how Trump came to impose the tariffs. After aides from a number of different government agencies came up with options for Trump to review, he decided instead on a different option, one that has drawn ridicule because it is crude and has nothing to do with tariffs at all. He reached the amounts of tariff levies by dividing the trade deficit of each nation (not including services) by the value of its imports and then dividing the final number by 2.

The reporters note that Trump didn’t land on a plan until less than three hours before he announced it, and made his choice with little input from business or foreign leaders. Neither Republican lawmakers nor the president’s team knew what Trump would do. “He’s at the peak of just not giving a f*ck anymore,” a White House official told the reporters. “Bad news stories? Doesn’t give a f*ck. He’s going to do what he’s going to do. He’s going to do what he promised to do on the campaign trail.”

While right-wing media and Republican lawmakers have worked hard to spin the economic crisis sparked by Trump’s tariffs, Financial Times chief data reporter John Burn-Murdoch used charts on social media to show that Americans are not happy. Consumers give Trump’s economic plan the worst ratings of any administration’s economic policy since records began. He has had the same impact on economic uncertainty as the global coronavirus pandemic did. Almost 60% of Americans expect the economy to deteriorate over the next year, and they are very worried about job losses.

Burn-Murdoch noted that despite the attempt of right-wing media to hide the crisis, more than half of Americans have heard unfavorable business news coverage of the government’s policies. While MAGA continues to approve of Trump, he’s rapidly losing support among the rest of the coalition that put him into office.

The administration apparently doesn’t care much more about the law than it does about the reactions to the tariffs that are crashing the economy. Today, U.S. District Court judge Paula Xinis ordered the government to bring back to the United States no later than 11:59 p.m. on April 7 a legal resident it mistakenly sent to a notorious prison for terrorists in El Salvador. On Monday, administration lawyers told the court that the government had swept up Kilmar Abrego Garcia because of an “administrative error” but that it could not bring him back because he was outside the reach of American laws.

Priscilla Alvarez and Emily R. Condon of CNN note that in a hearing about the case, Xinis said that Abrego Garcia, who was in the U.S. legally and was not charged with any crimes, was arrested last month “without legal basis” and was deported “without justification of legal basis.” “This was an illegal act,” Xinis said. “Congress said you can’t do it, and you did it anyway.”

Trump’s deputy chief of staff, Stephen Miller, responded to the judge’s order by calling Xinis a “Marxist judge” who “thinks she’s president of El Salvador.” The White House responded to the judge’s order by saying, “We suggest the Judge contact President Bukele [of El Salvador] because we are unaware of the judge having jurisdiction or authority over the country of El Salvador.”

Legal analyst Steve Vladeck responded that while a U.S. federal court cannot order the Salvadoran government to release Abrego Garcia, the U.S. government should be able to secure his release. If it can—and in this case it should be able to—the court can order it to do so.

If that were not the case, the administration could simply get rid of anyone it wanted to by sending them to a prison outside the jurisdiction of the United States and then claiming it had no way to get them back.

Tonight, as the economy is in turmoil, Trump is speaking at a $1 million-per-person candlelight fundraising dinner at the Trump Organization's Mar-a-Lago property for the super PAC, MAGA Inc., that supports Trump. By law, MAGA Inc. can’t coordinate with Trump’s campaign organization, so the invitations for the dinner say that Trump is simply a guest speaker and is not asking for donations.

The terrible storms in the middle of the country continue. Authorities have issued flash flood emergencies in parts of Missouri, Texas, and Arkansas, and heavy rains are also expected in Kentucky.

Finally, four soldiers who died when their military vehicle sank in a deep swamp in Lithuania during a training exercise came home to Dover Air Force Base, in Dover, Delaware, today. Their recovery took about 200 U.S., Polish, Estonian, and Lithuanian personnel a week and required drones, search dogs, Navy divers, and ground-penetrating radar, as well as 70 tons of sand and gravel.

“We consider US soldiers in Lithuania as our own,” the Lithuanian Defense Ministry said after thousands of people joined Lithuanian president Gitanas Nausėda and other dignitaries in a dignified departure ceremony of the soldiers from Lithuania. “The farewell ceremony once again demonstrated our society's solidarity, respect, and gratitude to the Americans.”

—

[orcarealtyca]

Long-term Rentals: Not afraid of Commitments?

Long-term Rentals: Where Commitment Meets Comfort What if commitment didn’t mean compromise? Assumptions are saying that making a commitment requires giving something up or settling for less. Take long-term rentals for example, signing these leases frequently causes some adulting-jitters to come out and play with one’s mind. “I’ll not have my freedom anymore” or “I’m throwing money away” may suddenly be muttered after everything’s been said and done. Well, the author begs to disagree. Contrary to those voices circling around your mind, long-term rentals might just be the sturdy middle of the railing—the safe balance between the shaky edge of short-term leases and the steep drop of a lifetime mortgage.

The Moving Blues: Why Packing Up Isn’t Always the Answer Instability, packing up and moving frequently may not be for everybody, not to mention always being at the mercy of landlords and property owners deciding not to renew. Short-term spaces are rarely anybody’s to customize as well – not really the best choice if you’re somebody who prefers a Dalmatian rug or maybe have Michael B. Jordan’s poster plastered across the room. On top of all that, and pardon the cliché quotations, but no man is an island – most people would crave for a sense of belongingness, a need that short-term rentals unfortunately cannot fulfill. You don’t build relationships with neighbors or feel grounded in a community once always on-the-go.

Avoid the Mortgage Maze: Why Renting Could Be the Real Win The other end of the string, however, may have you locked down, but at what cost? Now, unless the last 25 years of your life was spent in daddy’s house and you’re earning more than you need (good for you, by the way), the massive mortgage and long-term financial commitment with down payments, property taxes, maintenance and repairs up in your face may just burn a hole through your pocket, and a big one at that. Think throwing money for decadent desserts this month and looking in the mirror unsatisfied the next – not only were your pockets drained but you suffer for a greater part of your life. From leaky roofs to aging appliances, not to mention the cultural expectation of settling down through ownership – all huge steps you don’t necessarily have to take. Lastly, once you own, it’s harder to move or relocate without the hassle of selling or renting out your property.

Make it Yours (Without the Down Payment Drama)

For those in the play safe field who prefer stability without strings, long-term leases is just the thing to give you a sense of security without a dead end, plus, it’s often at a better price point. Imagine being able to stay rooted in one place while still having the flexibility to leave. Not only that but you’re free from the chains of repairs and maintenance as they often fall on the landlord, even better, the property management company if you’re linked to one. Live big without owning big, right?

LONG-TERM RENTALS (H3)

Why compromise when you can have the best of both worlds? Scroll through our list of long-term rentals and find stability without strings attached. You may also contact us today by dialing +1 604 757 5480.

[atasteofchocolates]

Trying to remain positive.

So our chain broke. And for those who may not know a chain is this:

If you are buying a house, the people you are buying from also need to buy a new house, and those people may need to buy a new house etc etc.

Well, our buyers after 4 months ended up pulling out from purchasing their onward house. Now, on the bright side, we have not lost our house ( although it felt like it at the time) but it does mean we have to sit and wait for several months for our sellers to buy and complete on a new house.

Now we met our sellers, and after having found out more info, we did feel bad for them. We agreed to stay and wait rather than pull out ourselves and look for something new. We love the house and feel it’s the one for us.

The uncertainty remains though as our sellers may not find another house they like, if they do get an offer accepted, we don’t know how long the new chain could be (our previous one was pretty short) and obviously, the chain could break again.

I do feel a little heart broken as we had planned to be in jan-march and after having our offer accepted in October, it feels like our new move in date is forever away.

But I want to try and change my mind set and focus on the positives. So yes, it would have been nice to be in at the start of the year, and yes I struggle with being patient but:

- we rent a lovely two bed coach house, and it does feel like home, we are settled, and our landlord is pretty good.

- potentially interest rates could drop slightly, giving us a better rate.

- ability to save more. I have looked at whether we could get to the 10% but it’s just not possible. However, we can continue to save to be in a better position when we move in and to be able to action more of our decorating plans.

- we also now have the ability to travel a little which isn’t possible once we have our mortgage. Due to having more time to save, we have booked a few days in Edinburgh. We’ve always talked about going, but never been able to justify the price. We are also looking at going back on a Norway cruise.

- I will be closer to paying off my car. The mortgage will be a shock to the system, but with my car payment finishing in October, that will be an extra £164 back in my pocket. A later move in date means I will be closer to having that money back in my pocket,

Ultimately, there are loads of positives to our very overwhelming, uncertain situation. February is busy and often flys by. March will show signs of spring and I know we will be in before we know it.

And if not, we start again.

The things that I think are contributing to feeling so frustrated are:

- not having a garden. Some mornings I just don’t feel up for going for a walk the minute I wake up. And I know it’s probably good for me but it’s not as enjoyable anymore …

- we have several unfriendly dogs in the area now. And I feel like they’re always about. Brandi now hates them and reacts back (or even reacts first) and I am scared one day she will be attacked. They walk about the Rez and the lane which leaves me walking around the block which gets pretty boring. I feel I am filled with anxiety when walking brandi and don’t enjoy our surroundings as much as I did when we moved in.

- the mud, I feel this time of year everywhere is just so muddy, our house is currently open plan and rented so we constantly have to wash brandi if we take her out for a good walk.

- storage is also a massive problem, I feel like there is clutter everywhere all of the time.

- our shower no longer gets hot, it has become very temperamental.

- finally, the road works in chard. They are due to go on for a whole year! It adds a whole extra twenty minutes to any journey and I often feel trapped in the house, unable to go out unless I want to get stuck in traffic.

[coineagle]

Crucial Role of Consolidation in Bitcoin’s Soaring Recovery Journey

Key Points

Bitcoin’s recent surge due to the ‘Christmas Rally’ is tempered by potential psychological risks.

Despite a potential correction, Bitcoin’s exit of weak hands could set the stage for fresh players.

Bitcoin experienced a 4% surge due to a phenomenon known as the ‘Christmas Rally.’ However, potential psychological risks could potentially dampen this bullish trend.

Just ten days ago, Bitcoin [BTC] reached a new all-time high (ATH) of $108K, a milestone it has been aiming for since the “Trump pump.” However, even in the absence of an overheated market and greed staying well below 90, investor caution rose sharply as the FOMC warned of a cautious outlook for 2025.

Bitcoin’s Sharp Decline and Potential Correction

This resulted in a sharp decline in BTC, erasing much of the gains made during the final phase of the election cycle. With a potential correction on the horizon, many decided to cash out at the $94K price point, resulting in over $7.17 billion in profits.

While this might seem like a setback, the exit of weak hands is often seen as a ‘healthy’ retracement, preparing the way for new players to enter the market and take up the available supply. Now, with BTC slowly inching back towards $100K, it’s unclear whether new capital is flowing back into the market or if investors are still wary from the recent unexpected decline.

Caution Among Risk-Averse Investors

Following the massive cash-out, Bitcoin exchange reserves surged to 2.427 million – the highest since November. Short-term holders’ SOPR also hit 1.04, indicating that those with less than five months of exposure were cashing out and locking in profits.

In addition, BTC inflow into exchanges reached a five-month high, with 21K BTC deposited at an average price of $98K. This caused BTC to drop to $92K, its lowest level in over two weeks, with $94K clearly proving to be a strong profit-taking zone.

However, just as things seemed to be heading south, the holiday cheer kicked in. Before a deeper pullback to the $88K-$90K range could take hold, BTC bounced back with a 4% jump, finding itself back in the $98K-$100K band.

Despite this recovery, institutional demand for Bitcoin ETFs has remained sluggish, continuing a four-day consecutive outflow streak. This suggests that the current price point has yet to attract significant institutional capital.

On the retail side, buying has picked up, though not aggressively enough to signal full “accumulation.” As the New Year excitement builds, BTC could range between $100K-$105K. Yet, a new ATH still feels a bit far off.

Ultimately, the ‘risk’ factor looms large. With recent declines still fresh in investors’ minds, the psychological resistance could deter new capital from flowing in.

Bitcoin’s Future Direction

Historically, the first quarter of each year has been bullish for Bitcoin, marked by a supply shock where limited supply meets high demand, creating the perfect economic imbalance.

However, with the current metrics in mind, it wouldn’t be surprising if Bitcoin diverges from its typical pattern. External forces are becoming more powerful, and the lack of clear economic signals could pose a significant hurdle in 2025, even with healthy on-chain metrics.

So, unless BTC breaks its previous all-time high by mid-January, calling a bull rally just yet may be premature. The absence of substantial retail and institutional capital means even big players like MSTR might not be enough to spark the rally.

Instead, a consolidation in the $95K–$98K range could be just what Bitcoin needs to build momentum for the next big move. This would keep risk-averse investors in the game by squeezing their profit margins, while reigniting FOMO and setting the stage for the rally that could carry us through the next couple of weeks.

[potatoes83]

Random...

Had to drop the Wrangler off at Belle Tire yesterday; found a nail way too close to the sidewall, and the 7 year old tires were starting to dryrot in the treads. I live about 2 1/2 miles away, so I walked back home. Got a big bastarding blood blister on the ball of my foot, right behind the index and middle toes, size of a quarter. That's obnoxious.

Stayed up late, slept in, creatures fed, me fed, laundry and dishes going. It's funny how things change when you're an adult; you used to tell your friends about your newest action figure or whatever, now it's like, oh yeah, got a new dishwasher... yeah, stainless steel, you'd better believe it... no, three freaking racks, I know, right???

I am still annoyed by the fact that the dishwasher takes like 2 1/2 hours to run the dishes. The old one took about an hour. And it's not like I desperately need the dishes like I'm running this thing back to back in a restaurant or something, we've been lazy this week, so there's every bit of a second load to go in, but it's not like the washing machine where you have a finite amount of time to get everything done over the weekend. It doesn't really matter how long the dishwasher takes, truth be told, but I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole it runs so much longer so it can save energy thing. Last I checked, with electrical appliances, the longer they run, the more they cost you. And I know, the heating element is probably half the size, the pump is smaller, and I hear it in there spraying rack by rack, instead of just a massive cascade of water, but once again, if you have something that's half the size running twice as long, it seems like that would be as much if not more energy.

What I really hate is the way that with all this energy efficiency nonsense, your everyday families are really being priced out of being able to afford appliances. Like it's one thing if you're making the decision to spend more money on the higher efficiency model that uses less water and allegedly less energy, that's you making that choice with your dollars based on your lifestyle. But if you just need a replacement dishwasher, never mind the fact that the cheap ones are prohibitively expensive compared to what they used to be, they also just don't work as well. You're really forced to buy something upper end just for it to do what it's supposed to do. This dishwasher works great, yes it does, no one's questioning this. For over $1,000 it better. You buy a cheap one these days, and because it's sitting there saving energy at you, you got to run half the dishes through again. Unless you're one of those people who pre washes them with soap and water before they go in the dishwasher, in which case what's the point? But I know there was a significant period of my working life where there was no way in hell I could spend this kind of coin on a dishwasher. Hell, I had the basic rebuilt washer and dryer from the local used appliance store, $150 each out the door, if they lasted you a couple years, they had paid for themselves. And there was nothing wrong with that. And even in this case, a thousand bucks isn't walking around money, it's by the grace of the Home Depot consumer credit card letting me use their money for 6 months interest free that this dishwasher is a thing.

I've said this before, I'm not a masochist when it comes to my energy bills and whatnot. Everything costs way too much money, and we work far too hard just to pay for our utilities. But let me make that decision. That's what it boils down to. Because some people can't. Oh, what you save in electricity and water, that makes up the cost of the dishwasher, yeah that's cute, but you're talking about long-term costs versus upfront costs. I'm sitting here right now looking at seven light bulbs, none of which are on, but back in the day those would be 60 watts if not greater. Each. That's a hell of a lot of wattage. So I'm running energy efficient light bulbs, I still have quite a few cfls, a smattering of leds, because I didn't go throwing everything I bought away when the next technology came down the road. But I also remember when you get a box of 60 watt standard light bulbs for like 80 cents or some nonsense. So if I want to save the energy, I can spend five bucks a light bulb or whatever the hell it is these days, but what if I don't have that luxury. What if I just need some light in my kitchen, and things are really tight, what do I do then?

The choice needs to be in the hands of the consumer. And that can't be a Sophie's choice of choosing between affordability or something that actually works. Also, affordability needs to be determined by real people, not a bunch of bureaucrats pulling down comfortable six figure salaries. That's not reasonable. And it's not helping anybody. If I need to buy something basic, with less fancy functions, less energy efficiency, but it will still do the job I need it to, that needs to be my decision. 🥔

[thessalian]

Thess vs Helplessness

It came to me today, as I was committing yet another act of Making Things, exactly why I enjoy Making Things as much as I do: it’s not quite spite, though that’s sort of close. It’s about the only thing I have to alleviate the feelings of helplessness that just kind of ... gather en masse these days.

I mean, there’s the fibromyalgia for starters. Never knowing what shape I’m going to be in day to day. Having to be so careful about spoon expenditure. Hurting all the time, and while I can generally get some improvement, I get no real relief from any of it. It’s a horrible feeling.

Then add to that ... well, this fucking country. The Bank of England has just raised interest rates again, massively - so it’s up to 3% now. We’re looking down the barrel of the longest recession since the 1930s. Which ... we’re talking about Great Depression terms here. The cost of living is skyrocketing, wages are in no way rising to compensate, and the murmuring from the government is that there are going to be more cuts to things that can’t afford to be cut anymore, not to mention tax rises (and gods know they probably won’t be for the rich, though at least one mention has been made of abolishing the whole non-domicile tax loophole - though if Sunak lets that one go, he’s going to end up sleeping on 10 Downing Street’s sofa because that loophole is his wife’s favourite). It’s a nightmare.

They say all this like it’s just arbitrary numbers, but it isn’t. I see the difference every time I shop for groceries. It’s not even just the price of everything going up - the quality and quantity you get for your money has plummeted too. The chicken I cooked today, for example. I have to order my groceries online, for the most part, because dragging home even a week’s worth of groceries is a nightmare, never mind a month’s worth. So when I ordered a chicken I wanted to last for many days, I ordered a medium-sized one. What I got was one that was smaller than the ‘small’ chickens I was buying a couple of years ago, and it hadn’t been properly plucked - none of the poultry I’ve been getting lately has, to be honest. Also it was more bone than substance, especially in the legs, so damnit, I probably got a battery chicken (I hate that, but with prices what they are... Ugh). All of that taken into account, my ‘medium’-sized chicken is not going to last as long as I thought it would. Which pissed me off because that’s just ... I got less for more in so many ways. So I was angry, and again, I felt helpless.

And then I thought, “Fuck this. I am going to squeeze EVERY DROP OF GOOD I CAN OUT OF THIS BIRD”, and looked up how to make chicken stock. I had to do some guessing and goshing, and may have used slightly too much water, but what I also used were more fresh herbs from my windowsill-and-balcony garden. And some peppercorns. And a couple of cloves of garlic. And I just boiled them all for hours and now I have chicken stock. Which I will use in risotto, along with some of my leftover chicken. I am going to make as many meals as humanly possible out of that pitiful bird and price-gouging assholes who think more about shareholders than people can get fucked with knives.

It also helps to make sure I get all the things that I actually want, the way I want them, which is incredibly hard here. "We make our pickles super-sweet here and if you don’t like it, then tough luck”. Fuck that; I’ll make my own. “Sugar tax and price-gouging and cheaping out on ingredients in sweets, and if you don’t like it, don’t buy it”. Fuck that; I’ll make my own. “We don’t do much gluten-free so you can forget most breaded things unless you pay through the nose for it”. FUCK THAT AND FUCK YOU; I am asking for an air fryer for Christmas and, again, I will make my own. I am not as bound by what I can find - and, more to the point, what I can afford, on the supermarket shelves. Yeah, the base ingredients cost, but not as much and at least you know what you’re getting.

So that’s basically it. I make things because I am tired of feeling held hostage by price increases. I refuse to buy ‘just the bare essentials”, at least in part because even my essentials are expensive because gluten issues. But mostly, it’s just that everyone needs some goodness in their lives. And if this fucking country seeks to deny me that through an ill-thought-out Brexit, if it keeps insisting that raising wages in line with inflation will cause a ‘wage-price spiral’ because they’re more interested in inflating the bubble economy a few more inches than they are in letting people live, if it keeps telling me that I’d be a lot better off financially if I just cut out all sources of joy? Well, then, fuck them. Up the arse. With cacti. SIDEWAYS. They won’t do right by me; I’ll just do right by myself as much as I can. If that means putting some effort into growing my own herbs, making my own candy, dehydrating fruit so I can have fruit that won’t go off if I buy in bulk, and generally squeezing the maximum benefit out of every single fucking thing my budget will allow in this situation? At least I’m doing something.

We’re two years away from a general election, and we keep getting prime ministers that we never voted for making our lives worse and worse with every decision they make. They talk about the potential for running out of fuel this winter to the point where they’ve got a worst case scenario for week-long blackouts (and keep in mind that this is the same country that refused to acknowledge the worst case scenarios about Brexit and Covid, and both ended up worse than their projected scenarios, so I have the terror) ... but I look out the window and I see all the office buildings lit up like Christmas trees. Why do all the lights in those buildings need to be on if we’re worrying about upcoming fuel shortages? Wouldn’t we save a lot if they just turned off all the lights beyond the ones on the tops of those buildings that are there to warn low-flying aircraft that they want to pull up if they don’t want to crash into a building? But no; apparently it’s so much more convenient to ignore it and have the potential for people freezing this winter, and being unable to cook for days at a time, even if they can afford their electricity bills. (And what’s the bets there won’t be any reduction in the standing charge even when the power companies aren’t providing the service for periods that long?) I can do nothing about any of this, because ... well, see above. Two years away from a general election, protest all but criminalised (and will be worse if they pass that horrible bill that says that anyone who’s been in a protest that has been so much as ‘annoying’ or ‘noisy’ will have to wear a gods-damned ankle tracker). Also I couldn’t manage a protest march. There is literally nothing I can do about the root causes of any of this.

So I will do what I can to make my life as bearable as possible for as long as I’m able. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it anger me beyond all reason that I should have to do this? Sort of, but I guess I don’t have to. Nobody expects me to. That’s why I get, “That sounds like so much effort, though!” Well, I mean, yeah, but I have some control here. I can make something good happen. And if it spites Tory assholes who think that people like me should live on gruel and do nothing but work and sleep, or preferably die because I can’t work hard enough to be a sacrifice to the Great God ECONOMY ... so much the better. It’s a small thing in the grand scheme of things, I guess, but I have to do something or I’m just going to despair, and in terms of my mental health, I can’t afford that. Sure, it’s not great for my chronic pain, but it’s still better than the alternative. The alternative isn’t pretty. I can deal with physical pain way better than I can deal with a depression spiral. I speak from experience.

[traincat]

I know the comic piracy debate is a never-ending cycle, but in India where I live, you can't get western comics (or manga for that matter). There aren't comic book stores. Sometimes on Amazon you can find collected editions worth more than INR 1000 at least, for the paperbacks. Most older collections, even from the early 2000s, will be upwards of INR 6000. And sure, it's because the exchange value is so low for Indian rupees, but that's still a LOT of money to Indian citizens. You can get digital editions of random odd issues for approx. INR 150, so that's there. But overall it's really a huge investment to buy a physical comic. So yes, I pirate. But I get so guilty when this debate rolls around, every time. I just don't see any other alternative.

I debated whether or not to answer this considering I haven't really addressed the comics piracy issue before so I'm not sure I'm the right account to talk about it, and also because my askbox is not a confessional and I am not a priest, but then some Spider-Man news broke that I feels ties into it this so whatever, we're going for it. The comics piracy debate comes up every couple of months and will probably continue to come up every couple of months until forever and all of these points have been stated before by others because nothing in this debate is new. First things first, you shouldn't feel guilty. I'm going to suggest actually that nobody should feel guilty, unless you are like, a millionaire and you're exclusively pirating indie books. The prices you're quoting are prohibitively expensive but I have some unfortunate news for everyone involved: the prices are really bad in the US, too. If you want good collected editions, especially in hardcover, they're going to run at similar if not quite equal prices. Comics have gone from a cheap hobby to an overwhelmingly expensive hobby.

This is a good article comparing to the cover costs of American comics since the 1960s adjusted for inflation which I think puts some things in perspective. Comics currently cost roughly $5 USD per issue, which doesn't sound that bad, even though most of my monthly streaming services are roughly that price for a whole month's access to a library of content. But it only doesn't sound that bad if you're not buying special issues (the Marvel Pride book retailed for $10), and if you're only reading one or two books a month. The problem is, American superhero comics are specifically designed so you're not reading just one or two books per month -- this is why we have events! And crossovers! Not for the story potential but because it forces the consumer to purchase more product. This is why there's constantly an event running with a checklist of tie-in issues in the back. So now you're spending probably at least $20 a month. If you're a fan with a lot of interest in different titles, and in different publishers, this can easily hit triple USD digits. It's a money pit. It's not affordable to most people. And this is where that new Spider-Man news comes in, because it was announced today that Amazing Spider-Man is going back to a thrice monthly schedule like it used to operate on during Brand New Day. Which sounds good at first -- more comics, yay -- until you realize that's probably going to be $15 USD a month for a one title. That's $180 a year for one title, not including annuals or special issues. That's not feasible for a lot of fans -- young fans, poor fans, fans with other financial obligations etc. And most people aren't reading just one title. I don't know how the X-Men fans are currently financing their Krakoa habit and I'm afraid to ask. There are services like Marvel Unlimited, which make things slightly more affordable, but I imagine the wait for newer issues to hit the service can be alienating for some fans who want to join in current discussions, the library has some incredibly massive holes in it which is unacceptable when it's coming from inside the mouse house, and I believe, although I could be wrong, that it is not available in all countries. Comics are no longer an easily accessible hobby, if you're paying for everything you read.

"But the creatives deserve to get paid" is the common argument and yeah, they do, I'm not arguing that point. They should absolutely get paid and they should get well. I'm a writer, I'm a published writer even, and I want to be a published novelist, and I definitely want to get paid, and I'm reserving the right to be a complete hypocrite about this, as I do with everything in my life, but this is where the difference between indie publications and Marvel publications comes in: Marvel is owned by Disney. There is absolutely no excuse for Disney not to pay their creatives. If they are not getting paid fairly, it's not because you pirated a book -- it's because Disney has a vested interest in not paying their creators, as evidenced by Alan Dean Foster's lawsuit claiming that they are withholding royalties from him. Fans pirating these books are not the reason the creatives are not getting paid fairly -- the creatives are not getting paid fairly for the same reason that Disney park employees experience homelessness, and it's because Disney would rather put that money into the pockets of their executives. There is no debate on that subject. It's easier and perhaps more convenient to blame fans for pirating comics rather than putting all of their money into what has been for years now a prohibitively expensive hobby to keep up with, but the fact of the matter is Disney could pay all of their creatives what they're worth without hurting their bottom line and instead chooses not to. That is not on you, as an individual reader. You have no reason to feel guilty about that, no matter what your circumstances are, and you do not have to justify your actions to either me or the House of the Mouse. I'm with you, and Disney ultimately doesn't care. They're making that money up elsewhere and then not distributing it fairly to the people who create the properties their media empire is built off of. But especially if you're buying older books, you should know that your money is not going to the creative team -- once it's out of publication, they're not going to get any of the money you spent on it. The argument then becomes that you should be supporting local comics stores which yes, is true, but also doesn't apply to everyone, like anon who doesn't have access to local comic book stores. And again, this can become prohibitively expensive -- collections are expensive. Older, hard to find collections can be very expensive. Once something is out of print, all bets are off on what it might be selling for. Buying single issues is only affordable if the single issue isn't desirable or sometimes if it's in exceedingly bad condition. For the sake of transparency, I have a fairly big single issue collection because it's my preferred format, but I had the time to bargain hunt, access to local comic book stores and large comic conventions, and I'm very good at sniping eBay auctions. The most I have ever dropped on a single issue was expensive for me -- and still under three digits USD -- and it's for an issue from the '60s that is not in great condition.

The problem with this debate is that it is generally a nuanced issue that always gets boiled down to "piracy bad" in a way that makes a lot of well meaning and well intentioned fans, especially the ones with extenuating circumstances, feel bad. It's not your fault. You shouldn't feel guilty. There are a huge amount of reasons why someone might pirate something that are not bad reasons and do not make you a bad person who is personally withholding money from the creators -- because you're not. I don't publicly tell people where to pirate comics, mostly because I really don't think it's that hard to find out for yourselves especially because several creators involved with Marvel themselves have, I suspect accidentally, posted pages of their work to social media WITH THE BANNER OF A WELL KNOWN COMICS PIRACY SITE STILL IN THE IMAGE please learn how to crop, so maybe my standpoint on the issue wasn't well known, but there it is. I think readers should, if they are able to financially and otherwise, support the creators they like, but that it should be acknowledged that this is a more complicated issue than it's commonly made out to be on Twitter and that the largest part of the blame needs to be put on the companies making these comics inaccessible to many and who refuse to pay their creators fairly, not on individual fans. Don't feel guilty, anon.

[nickgerlich]

Boycott This

As I have said before, I am an equal opportunity critic. I proudly claim my position in the middle of the political spectrum, weighing the pros and cons of candidates, and then selecting the one I think will inflict the least harm. Maybe that’s a bit negative by default, but I just can’t seem to find one whom I think is all rainbows and unicorns.

Unless you have been on a remote island without wifi, the last couple of years have been rocky for US marketers. We all know what happened in April 2023, when Bud Light partnered with trans activist Dylan Mulvaney. A massive boycott ensued, which found Bud Light’s market share dropping from the number one spot at 12%, down to 6.4%, which put it in third behind Modelo and Michelob Ultra. Bud Light has rebounded somewhat since then, thanks in part because of a massive ad spend and promos with pro and college football, but the damage was done, at least for now.

In fact, this is the biggest and longest boycott impact I have seen since I started researching such things nearly 15 years ago. Usually, boycotts start out with a lot of bluster, and then fade within six months as consumers return to their normal habits.

Target, as we have also discussed, felt the sting of boycotting a couple of months later with its Pride Month merchandise. The company has foundered ever since, but not just because of its product selection. Inflation also caused the store to be out of many customers’ price range, and Target share prices have dropped 11% thus far in 2025.

But then things started getting a little bit weird last week. There was a 24-hour economic impact championed by the Left, including Target, Amazon, Walmart, and practically every major corporation someone—I have no idea who started this social media-driven campaign—deemed to be evil.

But wait, there’s more. Much more.

Because Target ditched its DEI initiatives, a 40-day Target boycott started on the 5th of this month. And then John Schwarz, the founder of The People's Union USA, announced a one-week boycott yesterday of Amazon and all of its various companies, including Zappos, Ring, Whole Foods, Twitch, and Prime Video.

I have one word to say about this spate of boycotting: Whatever. Actually, I uttered a barnyard epithet that is something you don’t want to step in. I think you get my point.

Personally, I am getting a little tired of all this, regardless of whether the boycott comes from the Left or Right. I am too much of a capitalist, meaning I embrace the concept of self-interest, to be bothered. I was disappointed last summer when Tractor Supply scrapped its DEI program, but it didn’t keep me from shopping there. In fact, I bought some things there last week.

And why do I keep shopping there? Because they deliver value to me. Yes, “value” is a subjective construct, which can be derived from competitive prices, convenience, product selection, service, and more. Since I live in the country, I get a lot of things at Tractor Supply that I need for my property. I have neither the time nor desire to find another source.

What I find really interesting is the social media comments on all of these news items. I scroll them for entertainment value. With people on the Left now boycotting Target, Amazon, et al., people on the Right are saying they are now going to shop at Target. No, really. These are the same people who trashed the place—some literally destroying in-store displays and harassing employees—saying they will now gladly give them their money.

Why, I bet some of them might now be open to buying an EV without posting that trite laughing face emoji they are so wont to do. Climate change? Sure thing. Wind turbines and solar farms? Bring ‘em, if the Left is boycotting whomever makes them. If the Left started boycotting Anheuser-Busch, you might start seeing working class beer drinkers sipping from blue cans again.

Oh my. This really has spun out of control. For all that is good and proper, everybody…please reach down and untwist whatever it is you're wearing. Can we please try to get along a little better?

A big part of the problem is that collectively we have allowed our emotions to hold sway over many aspects of our lives. Maybe it’s just too hard to think rationally when our country has fractured into polar opposite belief systems. I know. Shopping with a conscience is some people’s mantra. My conscience is located in my wallet, not my heart or anywhere else.

I remember my mother always telling me never to bite off my nose to spite my face. It’s one of those rural Appalachian idioms she was so good for. It’s just as true today. If you derive value from Amazon, Target, Walmart, or whomever, then just shop there. You really aren’t hurting them. You are hurting yourself. The same goes for the people who gave up the beer they loved all because Bud Light became linked to a transgender. Sure, that may have been a hard swig to swallow, but once again, those people sacrificed value.

I also remember a couple of decades ago some family friends visiting from the north. They were and still are staunch conservative Christians, and the man had a worn folded sheet of paper in his billfold listing all the companies, from consumer packaged goods to restaurants, that supported Planned Parenthood. By golly, they weren’t going to spend one nickel with them. Too bad, because there were some good things on that list.

Things were much simpler then, weren’t they?

You may disagree with my rather agnostic view of things. It is not so much because these things are unknowable. It’s because I don’t want to know. I just want good products and services, and if you are Right, Left, straight, gay, or trans, I don’t care. I don’t care if your CEO is a gazillionaire. If I were in the market for an EV right now, I would consider a Tesla, even though I am not a fan of Musk’s chainsaw economics.

And I am tired of all these shopworn boycotts. When you come down off your virtue signaling high horse, you’ll probably just go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Even Bud Light drinkers, and former Target shoppers who are now driven to return because the tide has gone out to sea.

Just spend your money wisely. That sends the loudest message.

Dr “Coming Down Off My Own High Horse” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 1

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever. 

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 3.3k chapters: 1/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

Cleaning rich people’s vacation homes hadn’t been your dream job growing up. You had such high hopes when you were a kid, well into your teens, of becoming a zoologist. It had started off like most kid’s dreams—in kindergarten you wanted to be a veterinarian. That grew into wanting to become a herpetologist, but then you wondered, why limit yourself? As a zoologist you could be around tons and tons of animals, studying their behaviors and ecological impacts. It was about half way past your fourteenth birthday that you realized none of your dreams mattered.

You woke in the middle of the night to a crippling pain in your stomach, an unbearable heat boiling under your flesh. You must’ve been screaming, because your parents burst in frantically—only to stop dead upon stepping past the threshold. At the time you had no idea why, but it had been shock. Omegas were rare nowadays, more and more betas were being born while the number of omegas dropped. It was a point on contention; betas could breed with alphas, rendering the omega almost obsolete but alphas, especially ones with packs, wanted omegas.

Personally, you figured that evolution had decided to take things into its’ own hands. Everything about omegas spat in the face of adaption; they were small and delicate, hardwired to obey alpha commands even to their own detriment, experienced a full weeks’ worth of being completely and utterly incapable of survival on their own—

Well, unless one acquired (through whatever means necessary) methods to prevent it that one. Heats, a homegrown threat guaranteed to commit acts of violence at least twice a year. By the time your first had worn off, your parents had already jumped into action. They had three different packs bidding on you. Your mother had been bubbling with glee, talking about how wonderful it was that she had produced an omega when she herself was a beta. Your very existence was about to rocket them into both fame and fortune. So, you ran away. That same night.

It had been shockingly easy to locate illegal suppressants. They taught all about them in school, how they were horrible and taxing on an omega’s physiology. Suppressants masked an omega’s scent, prevented their heats, and (in your opinion) were the best invention of the twenty first century. You couldn’t have given a flying fuck about what negative impacts they might’ve had on your body—death would be a reprieve. Unfortunately you’d yet to have any of the widely touted negative effects (effects that you were pretty sure were made up to keep omegas afraid and compliant) and so you found yourself cleaning rich people’s vacation homes just over the Canadian border.

You’d been living out of your car since you first bought it at sixteen, for five hundred dollars. You gave a creepy beta a blowjob to get your license forged. It was the best investment you’d ever made (not that you had the opportunity to make many) and the clunker was still getting you from point A to point B and that’s all you needed. You had to move constantly, staying in one place too long meant people started to notice you, especially in the small towns you frequented in Ontario. But there was so much forest surrounding you that every once in a while you could just drop off the face of the earth, camping so deep in the woods no one would stumble across you. It made staying anonymous so much easier.

That was actually the current plan, after you finished cleaning this last massive cabin; to abscond into the woods for a while, until you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You won’t return to this town for at least a year. You’ll spark recognition when you return, but not enough for anyone to consider you more than an outsider in their close-knit community. The kind woman who lets you work for her cleaning company so sporadically will remember you when you ring her, the only person particularly thrilled to hear you’re back for a few months.

You do an excellent job and you do it fast— you can thoroughly and perfectly clean a 6 bedroom mansion by yourself in less than 10 hours and you were paid under the table so you didn’t require overtime, which Mrs. Hunt loved (there was no tax to be taken from an unreported cash payment though, so it was a fair trade in your opinion). You would work yourself to the bone, 10 hours a day everyday there was work available for at least three months and then dip without any expectations until the next time you returned, when she was gushing over the amazing reviews your work had gotten the last time you were around.

It was symbiotic existence—you were paid well for your efforts, more than enough to sustain living out of your car for months at a time, and your performance drove her online reviews into the 4.9 stars range and made it feasible for her to raise her prices. Mrs. Hunt didn’t ask any questions either, even when you requested to only work alone and couldn’t provide any identification beyond a driver’s license.

You were finishing up the kitchen in what was definitely one of the nicest places you’d ever cleaned when your phone went off in your back pocket. It made your skin prickle. Very few people had your number and you couldn’t think of a single reason they’d ring you instead of texting unless something was wrong.  You propped the mop against your shoulder and dug out the phone, frowning at Mrs. Hunt’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Oh sweetie, I’m so glad I got a hold of you! How are you doing?”

“I’m well, Mrs. Hunt,” you answered, your voice coming out semi-robotically as you strained not to sound panicked while continuing the conversation like a normal fucking person, “I’m just about done here, I was finishing the dry mop in the kitchen when you called and then all I need to do is pack up.”

“Oh perfect! I was calling because the owner just rang me, apparently some of his packmates will be arriving a bit earlier than anticipated—potentially within the next hour. Something about someone getting caught up at work, I’ll spare you the details. But if you’re almost done then you’ll probably be gone by the time they arrive.”

“Certainly Mrs. Hunt,” you’d immediately started frantically dry mopping the moment the words ‘within the next hour’ escaped the woman’s mouth, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder. “I’ll be gone in the next few minutes.”

“Now even if you aren’t its okay,” the concern in her voice meant that your own had betrayed you, waivered when you responded without your knowledge. “I always warn the owners that if they arrive before the scheduled time that there’s a possibility the house won’t be done and/or there might be people actively working in the house. You won’t get in any trouble, okay?”

“R-Right, thank you ma’am,” you swallowed heavily, finishing the last swipe across the tile in the kitchen and hustling back into the foyer. “I really won’t be but a minute though. I always keep all of my equipment put away and together if I’m not using it, so I really just need to pack up the mop.”

Which you’d already shoved into the rolling cart you picked up each morning that held all of your cleaning supplies provided by the company.

“Don’t forget your bucket too!” Mrs. Hunt sounded smiley again, “I’ll leave the key under the mat so you can stow your cart tonight. Have a good one swee—.”

“You too!” You might’ve hung up a touch too soon to be considered polite, shoving the phone back into your pocket and running into the kitchen. There was no time to dwell on manners. 

The mop bucket was sitting on the counter, already washed and dried and waiting to be put away. You’d started keeping your things completely put away at all times the same day you’d been accosted by a homeowner who arrived home earlier than expected while you were still trying to pack up. You’d tried to put your notice in that night, a couple of years ago now, but Mrs. Hunt begged you not to—promised it would never happen again. This must’ve been her best attempt at preventing it. At least you had already planned to leave town tonight anyway.

You nearly sprinted back to the cart, haphazardly tossing the stupid bucket on top and wheeling it towards the huge front doors. You’d just stopped to reach around and grab the handle when the knob turned and the left door was pushed open, nearly hitting your cart.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he was a beta, curly haired and dark eyed with pale skin, wearing a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Did I knock anything over?”

“N-No, sir,” you pulled the cart back a few steps, nearly trembling with the effort it took not to blast right past him, especially when you noticed him carefully scenting the air. "The house is all clean, I was j-just leaving.”

“Thank you, for getting everything clean for us. We don’t get to come out here as often as we like, I’m sure the place collected a lot of dust in our absence,” he smiled, looking both parts shy and calculating to your well trained eye— and you had no time for such consideration.

“Not too much, h-have a nice night!” You could feel your pulse racing and that was bad. Even the good suppressants, the ones that most of your money went to, had difficulty completely masking the scent of panicking omega.

“Did you use bleach?” The question caught you off guard and you almost jumped when he put a hand on your cart, glancing through the array of chemicals.

“Y-Yes, in the bathrooms. I wasn’t informed of any sensitivities—”

“Nothing a little fresh air won’t take care of,” you wanted him to stop looking at you like that, like there was some pale flash of recognition behind his eyes. “Would you go open the windows in the bathrooms upstairs? I’m afraid my nose is pretty sensitive, several of my packmates are similar.”

You did not like that his nose was especially sensitive and you hated that his packmates were similarly afflicted. It felt like getting punched in the face with a fight or flight instinct, your brain immediately demanded that you leave the cart and run past him—fuck the cart, fuck the job, you could find something else.

“Oh, and do you have the key to the front doors? I might as well get them from you now instead of us having to go down to the office tomorrow.” Your hand immediately dove into your pocket, yanking out the single key and dropping it in his palm. “Thanks— and the windows? Sorry, I just can’t go up there until it’s aired out.”

He wasn’t a huge man but the way he filled the doorway made you second guess trying to run past him, even if he was greying at the temples and looking a little rumpled. It was strange, you wouldn’t usually have such an intense reaction to a beta, but something about him was vaguely unsettling. So instead of trying to make a run for it, you turned on your heel and forced yourself to calmly walk up the stairs. There were four massive bedrooms in the cabin, each with its own bathroom and you’d need to go through and open the windows for the three bathrooms that had them. It meant darting into huge bedrooms, dodging expensive furniture and knickknacks and trying not to dirty the freshly mopped and swept hardwood floors in the process.

It took about five minutes but you felt like you’d run a marathon, your heart was pounding and there was sweat at the nape of your neck. All you wanted was out of the stupid fucking house, immediately. You dashed down the stairs and turned the corner, seeing your cart right where you left it. The door was still open too, but the beta was no where to be seen. You immediately darted forward, grabbing the cart tightly and beginning to push it past the threshold—

You were stopped in your tracks at the sight of two unnecessarily broad alphas. Both were tall, the white man standing just an inch or so taller, with a full beard and blond hair. The black alpha had facial hair too, a cleanly edged goatee to match a faded cut. Both were incredibly attractive and putting off waves of pheromones, to the point that your head floated for a moment.  Your lips clamped shut on a whine, instinct trying to push through and alert the two powerful alphas of your presence. Instead you ducked your head and continued out the door.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” Your gaze snapped up, immediately locking with a pair of dark brown eyes. “You the housekeeper?”

“Yes sir,” you answered quietly, stopping short in front of them when neither moved out of your way. “Sorry to have been here so late. Have a good evening.”

Both were still smiling, still pointedly not moving.

“My name’s Steve, that’s Sam,” the blond’s nose twitched, just slightly, and you realized he was very discretely scenting the air. “Nice to meet you. Do you live in town?”

“N-No, please excuse me,” you nudged the cart forward just an inch but they still didn’t budge and panic began coursing through your blood with renewed vigor, “excuse m—”

“Your scent is… confusing,” Steve’s head tilted to the side, “I don’t mean to be crass, of course, but I couldn’t help but notice.”

“It’s always been this way,” the response was automatic and your brain began shutting down all unnecessary functions; you were about to have to run and hope your omega physiology would make you faster than them.

“You smell almost like an omega,” he continued, both hands coming to rest on his hips, emphasizing the width of his shoulders. “But not quite?”

“I’m a beta.”

“Are you sweetheart?” Sam’s voice was a rumble, his head tilted to the side while his dark eyes burned holes into your skin.

The tone an alpha used with naughty omegas was deliberate and tightly controlled, the same as a command or a purr or a growl. It was on purpose, an attempt to nicely draw out the correct response. He wanted you to admit you were an omega, to tell them the truth of your own volition. The fact that your hindbrain desperately wanted to comply was a completely different issue—one you didn’t have time to address right now.

“Positive,” you breathed, clenching your fists tightly around the handles of the cart for just a second before deciding to leave it behind; you’d never be coming back here, there was no reason to worry about preserving your job.

Your eyes were quick and indefinitely perceptive. Being an omega was one step up from being a prey species, it came with inherent instincts that made you especially good at predicting behaviors. After all, an omega was only as good as their ability to please and soothe packmates. One of the single upsides to being an omega was that you were fast though—fast enough to outrun most alphas. And you only needed to go about a hundred and fifty feet, once you were in your car you could certainly get away. So the second you realized the pair was about to shift, moving to face each other more than you, you darted around the cart and dodged to the left.

It wasn’t your fault, honestly. There was no way you could’ve known you weren’t dealing with normal alphas. The blond was so fast that he almost moved between blinks—one moment he was still, the next he’d wrapped his arms around you and tugged you back into his chest. His arms were like steel, one wrapped around your torso to keep your arms pinned to your sides while the other carefully held your chin. Your hindbrain was screaming now, submit, submit, make alpha happy and you bit down on your tongue to hold in the whimpers, the omega sounds your throat was trying to produce.

“Shhh, shh, calm down,” it was half a tone away from being a purr and you continued to squirm while you still could—an alpha command was coming, you could feel it in your bones.

“Let Steve smell you,” Sam was rumbling instead of talking again, a similar half purr to how Steve had started speaking. "Everything’s okay, omega.”

You felt a nose nudge down your neck, towards your scent gland and you bared your teeth at the man in front of you. “I’m not an omega!”

“You smell like omega,” Steve’s breath ghosted over your skin and you fought a shiver. "Sort of. It’s buried, under… beta… sour beta?”

“What sort of suppressants are you on, sweetie?” You startled as the beta from earlier emerged from the house, wiping his hands on a dish towel absently. "Are you cutting them with anything? Heroin, or coke? It’s okay, you just need to tell me.”

“Tell Bruce sweetheart,” Sam coaxed, automatically moving to roll up the sleeves of your shirt, evidently looking for track marks. "Where do you get them?”

“I’m not on suppressants!” Your voice was almost a shriek at this point, desperately imitating the behavior of an angry beta rather than a terrified omega. “I’m a beta! Get off of me!”

“Okay, okay, here then,” Steve’s arm around your torso tightened, the one on your chin beginning to work its way down towards your jeans. "There’s only way one to tell for sure.”

Shock and fear and humiliation; an array of emotions swarmed through your body as his hand popped the button but those were the three you could identify and you immediately started thrashing your legs—he was going to check if you had an omega ridge and then everything would be over. It was a defining physical characteristic that couldn’t be passed off as anything other than what it was: a boney protrusion meant to catch on an alpha’s knot so they could be locked in place. In females it was found in the vagina, prominently featured directly before the g-spot so a knot would cause persisting pleasure. For males it was similarly positioned next to the prostate.

“Calm down, calm down!” Sam crooned, hands coming up to cup your face as while Steve’s slithered down the front of your jeans and into your panties. "It’s okay sweetheart, no matter what. Whatever Steve finds, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

The thrashing was doing nothing but tiring you out, you’d already been intensively cleaning for the past 9 hours without a break and it certainly wasn’t dissuading the hand slithering between your folds. You bit down on your tongue harder, until you drew blood to prevent the whimpers—you couldn’t make that stupid sound, you’d never make that stupid, pathetic, whiney noise, you couldn’t. Not even when a long, thick finger penetrated and sunk knuckle deep. Not even when the pad of said finger brushed your g-spot before hooking onto the ridge, tugging gently in a way that would’ve caused blinding pleasure had you not grounded yourself with the pain of biting your tongue.

“There it is,” Steve’s voice was soft, finger carefully running the length of the ridge. "A nice deep one too.”

“How long have you been taking suppressants?” Bruce prodded quietly, coming to stand next to Sam. “I need to know what sort of damage we’re looking at.”

When you didn’t respond Sam sighed, fingers brushing gently over your chin as he directed you to face him. "Please don’t make us use an alpha command, sweetheart. We just wanna take care of you. Tell Bruce how long you’ve been on suppressants, please.”

You regarded the handsome alpha for several short moments before spitting a mouthful of blood directly into his face.

 content warnings: assault, noncon vaginal fingering

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

[all1e23]

Tricks & Treats

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Orion’s Halloween is quickly turning rotten until someone helps to turn her day around with a few sweet treats. 

Warnings:  N/A Unless you count a disgusting amount of fluff to be a warning.

A/N:   A new Astrophile drabble! This is set in the very far future, Halloween 2042. Orion is 27 and it’s just the kiddos. No Beck or Bucky. This does have some bits (okay a lot of bits) of the the shared Price of Astrophile universe collab with Tara and if you haven’t read The Price of Gold you need to! Thank you to my beautiful @moonbeambucky​ for looking it over for me. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.  

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Halloween 2042

Today has been a disaster. A complete and utter nightmare. It started with spilling hot tea all over her copy of Star Lore and down the front of her favorite skirt, which forced Ori to settle for the little black number Cassie bought her as a Halloween costume. It’s supposed to be a cat but it’s really a dress accompanied by cat ears. It’s not that it’s awful, it’s not her usual taste. It’s a simple spaghetti strap dress, sweetheart necklace that doesn’t dip too low and cut just above her knee. As far as Halloween costumes go it’s fairly modest but it’s a little tight compared to the rest of Ori’s closet. 

Little did she know that was just the beginning to her terrible day. This was the first day in months that Ori was running the store on her own. No mom to fall back on. Not that it hasn’t happened before. At fourteen Ori was working the floor by herself so none of this was new but, today has been a nightmare from the moment the doors opened. It was unusually busy for a holiday, especially Halloween. It wasn’t often that the store was packed with customers on a day like today and there were moments when Ori began to feel claustrophobic with the amount of people filling the tiny shop.  

Half of the morning was spent on decorating the window display for a new series that was set to be released at the beginning of November. The copies were scheduled to be delivered today, but they never showed and when Ori called to check on their status, the man she was unlucky enough to be put in contact with screamed at her, explaining that it was a holiday and not everyone spent their lives working. 

It was one of those days where she wished she was ten years old again and Bucky could swoop in and save the day. 

By some miracle, there was a lull, and she was able to slip behind the counter where her phone is kept when she’s working the floor alone. She swiped away the missed calls from Cassie and ignored the texts from Leo. There was only one person who knew how to calm the swirling mess in her head right now and she knows how pathetic she looks, twenty-seven, and tears swimming in her eyes. She didn’t care because just hearing his voice would help settle her. Theo’s voice rang her ear and as happy as she was to hear it, part of her wished it wasn’t his voicemail. 

“H-hey,” Ori’s voice cracked, she cleared her throat ridding it of the tears choking her. “I know you’re at work. I’m sorry I’m calling. Please tell me I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m so sorry if I did. I just… I needed to hear your voice. I’m having a really awful day. That party with Cassie is tonight. I don’t want to go even though Cassie says it will be fun. And this new series. This stupid dumb shipment. They said they would be here today and I spent all morning doing the window display between the mad rush of customers by the way, they never showed. When I called to check in they said they can’t get here because it’s a holiday and well, they yelled at me. Now, I have to find something to replace the window display and spend another hour fixing what I did this morning. The store is so incredibly busy. I haven’t even stopped for lunch. I’m hungry and tired and I hate this day. Great. Now, I’m whining. Did I mention that I miss you? Well, I do and-” 

“Ma'am?” A deep voice grabs Ori’s attention and she turns around to find a man in a UPS shirt standing behind the counter, she smiles as kindly as she can and pulls the phone away from her mouth to answer him, “I’m so sorry. Can I help you?”  

“We have your delivery.”

Ori can feel the color drain from her face. She shouldn’t have that many boxes and the publisher on the clipboard being handed to her isn’t right. 

“Wait… No. No, I didn’t order that. That’s not mine-”

“Orion Barnes?” 

“Well, yes that’s me but,” She sighs, holding back the whimper that’s threatening to escape her. “Can you hold on just one second?" 

Ori didn’t wait for his okay like she normally would have, she stepped towards her office and put the phone back up to her ear, “I guess my terrible, awful, no good day isn’t over. Talk to you soon? I hope.”

Orion had her eyes glued to a stack of invoices in front of her when the bell above the shop door rang. Thankfully, she was able to clear up the whole shipping mixup, but dealing with that set her even further behind inventory. It didn’t matter much. She knew who it was without having to raise her head. Ori didn’t have to look up to know her sister had arrived. Cassie skipped nearly everywhere, she has since she was old enough to walk and between the jingling of the bracelets on her wrist, the massive keyring on her purse, and the bells on her shoes (that had nothing to do with Halloween) it was easy to know when she arrived. The jingling came to a stop next to Ori, and a slight nudge to her hip that made Ori look up from the papers in her hand to find Cassie handing over a small brown paper bag from the bakery next door. Ori narrows her eyes at the gesture. Is she trying to butter her up about the party tonight? 

“What’s this?”

“Cinnamon bagel from next door,” Cassie said with a certain self-satisfied taunt to her voice. “A certain boy texted me and said you hadn’t eaten today and asked if I could bring you something when I come by to pick you up for tonight." 

Ori beams brightly as she peeks in the bag, avoiding her baby sister'’ suspicious and slightly giddy gaze.

“Question. Why is Theo texting me about your food needs and how does he know about tonight?” 

She doesn’t answer, but this isn’t unusual. Like Bucky, Ori’s softer, gentler when it comes to revealing things close to her heart. There are some secrets she’s not ready for the world (or herself) to know yet. Cassie on the other hand is loud, in all things, but especially with what’s written on her heart. She loves just as deeply as Ori does but she’s quick to shout it from the rooftops, without a hint of fear.

Ori wishes she could be like that sometimes. 

“Something is up. I can tell by the smile you’re trying to hide!”

"I’m smiling because I was hungry and it was very thoughtful of you both.”  

Ori finally gets a look at Cassie’s costume when Cassie sheds her coat and she can’t help the surprised laugh that slips out. She’s in a white cotton dress that looked like it was made from one of those adult onesies, covered in glitter from head to toe and the rainbow leggings she has on matches the tail sticking out of the bottom of her coat and the mane on her hood she has pushed down. 

“What are you wearing?!” 

“What? I’m a sparkly unicorn. I look adorable!” 

Ori grins. 

“Yes, you do. You look beautiful.” 

The bell chimes again and Ori greets her brother without looking, he’s never far behind Cassie after all. Leo looked pretty much like he always does, slacks and a button-up white collared shirt under his coat but he was wearing black square-frame glasses. He leans over the mahogany counter and presses a kiss on Ori’s cheek. Whatever Cassie was hoping to get out of Ori would never happen now that Leo was present. Ori laughed at the pout on Cassie’s face, picking at the bagel as she scans over the invoice in front of her. 

“Ready for tonight?” Leo asks as he steals a piece of her bagel.

Ori shrugs a little, glancing at the clock and sighed when she saw it was nearing six. They would be pushing her out the door soon. It’s not that she didn’t like going out, she did. Things have been off lately and she hasn’t felt much like socializing, which is why her siblings insisted they have a party. If it turns out to be as terrible as she predicts it’s going to be, she can always call Bucky to pick her up because no matter what Bucky still drops everything to come to her rescue whenever she needs it. 

“It’s going to be fun!” 

“I guess. I’m not really a party person.”

“I know but you make the cutest cat ever.” 

Leo’s brow furrows and the worry on his face has him looking so much like Bucky it almost makes Ori laugh. 

“You’ve been working a lot. Skipping family stuff. When was the last time you came to family dinner and didn’t rush out the door? Mom said you’re working more hours than she is-”

“I should! She deserves time with dad and it’s not like I have a life waiting on me right now.” 

It’s been a little over a year since she called off her wedding and ended things with Cole and while she’s happy that relationship has ended, she’s nowhere near where she thought she would be at her age. She had plans and lists, milestones she promised herself she would hit by a certain age and now she’s… floating. No purpose. No real path. Simply riding her mother’s coattails, managing a store she wouldn’t have without her mother and she has no idea where she’s going or what her future is going to look like. It’s terrifying. So maybe she’s been spending a little more time at work to keep her mind busy. Sometimes it doesn't quite calm the chaos in her head, but staying busy helps. 

“That’s not true. You have us and, yeah, mom deserves a break but so do you. We thought it would be good to get out of the house. If you hate it I’ll bring you home.” 

Ori smiles. Leo has always been their protector, ready to jump in and save his mom and sisters from anything that could cause them the slightest bit of discomfort. She couldn't be aggravated with him for wanting to help, he’s only following in Bucky’s footsteps. 

“Yeah, okay. Today has been a mess. Give me a few minutes to wrap things up, okay?” 

She’s barely had time for her eyes to focus on the words in front of her when Cassie chirps from her side, “The window display is a mess. What happened there?” 

“Cassie!”

“I’m just saying. Want me to help you fix it tomorrow?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Ori snatches the brown bag with her bagel resting on top and heads back towards the office in hopes she will be able to focus there, “and yes. I would like help. Thank you.”

“I’ll watch the desk!” Cassie shouts behind her, getting an appreciative smile from Ori. The quiet doesn’t last long. The shop bell is ringing and Cassie is yelling for her before she’s managed to make it through one invoice.  

“Ori! Get out here. There’s a delivery.” Cassie’s shouts are piercing her ears and she’s certain  the entire bakery next door can hear her clear as day. Ori steps back out onto the sales floor, frowning and having every intention of reminding Cassie not to scream in the store, but she can’t because she’s staring at the largest bundle of lavender she’s ever seen. 

“I-- this. What is this?” 

“They are for you!” Cassie squeals but quickly stops smiling and looks at the older gentleman who is wearing a warm smile when he confirms that they are indeed for her sister. 

“Yes, ma’am,” The man says with a chuckle, “If you’re Orion Barnes. These are for you.” 

He passes the delicate bundle wrapped in brown paper in her arm and passes over a pen for her signature. She quickly scribbles her name and pulls the small white card out of the twine, grinning foolishly at what’s written. 

“Who are they from?” Cassie begs, jumping up and down. “I already know but I need to see the card myself.” 

Ori presses the card to her chest to keep Cassie from sneaking a peek, she’s not willing to share a bit of the sweetness written there. Cassie quickly gives up on the card and snatches the receipt before Ori can grab it, finding exactly what she was looking for. 

“Theo Tucker! I knew it!” 

The thin paper is pulled from Cassie’s hand by Leo, who is staring at the receipt with a deep frown as if he can’t process what he is seeing. 

“Why is Theo sending you flowers? Where did he find a place that delivers lavender like that? More importantly… why is Theo sending you flowers?" 

Ori can’t answer her brother, she’s too busy grinning like a fool and hiding her blushing cheeks behind the soft purple sprigs in her arms. 

“What do you mean ‘Why is Theo sending her flowers?’ Because he loves her. Am I the only that’s been paying attention?” 

"He loves you. It's the same thing and you don’t get flowers.”

“It is a hundred percent not the same thing, Leo.”

There’s the faint sound of the twins arguing in the background, “How is it different?” “Leo you can’t be serious. You’ve seen the way he looks at her!” She should probably stop their bickering but she can’t. She can’t focus on anything, not while she’s daydreaming about California. 

Maybe it wasn’t the worst day, after all. 

“So, are you going to wear a sprig of lavender as your catnip? Seems like it added a little spring in your step.”  

“Cassie!” 

Cassie had squealed when Ori asked her to draw a cat nose and whiskers on her face. If she was going to dress as a cat she had to go all out. The ears, while cute, weren’t enough to satisfy the perfectionist in her. Before they left her apartment, she sent Theo a thank you text and a picture of her all dressed up. The simple response, you look beautiful, makes her stomach flip and leaves her head spinning. It drops a fraction when Leo asks why she’s smiling at her phone with such a goofy grin. 

No one is ready for that answer, so she tucked her phone in her purse for now. 

The minute they arrived, Leo stepped through the front door and pulled his shirt open to reveal a giant S stitched onto his blue undershirt and he proceeded to do several more times throughout the night. Despite her reservations about the party, it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe she was simply in a better mood. She spent a better part of the night hanging around Cassie and Ariel, who was dressed as Tinker Bell and her lovesick Peter Pan never strayed from her side for long. Ori didn’t know a lot of the people currently filling Leo and Ollie’s apartment, so it felt safer to stick by family. 

At some point a small group of people broke off from the larger party and started playing spin the bottle. It was strange to watch twenty year olds play a childhood game. There was bobbing for apples which didn’t seem all that sanitary if you asked Ori, which is why she declined rather emphatically when asked if she wanted to try. 

Halfway through the night their mom texted asking for pictures, so she took a few with Cassie and Ariel, some of her and Leo and of course all of them posing together. She even sent the few of Ariel and Ollie off to the Tuckers. Another text comes in but it’s not a response from her parents, a very handsome Indiana Jones pops up and she can’t help the huge smile that forms. He looks adorable with that hat and playful smirk and she tells him so. Ori peered over her phone to find Cassie and Ariel smiling, she cleared her throat and quickly hid her phone back in her purse. 

“Oh, look. There are some mummy cupcakes left. I better go grab one before they disappear,” Ori had muttered as she quickly tried to divert attention off of her. 

There was every Halloween themed treat you could think of. The chocolate covered strawberries dressed up as ghosts, bloody s’mores, and candy corn rice krispy treats were gone first. When Ori asked how they managed to do all this, Leo admitted with a sheepish grin that their mom had done most of the baking and Cassie and Ariel had decorated. She should have known Ariel had a hand in the planning, it was too well organized for Leo and Ollie to handle on their own. 

The party started to die down a little after one in the morning, Leo offered his bed but Cassie was already fast asleep and there was no way she was sharing with that human koala. After refusing to take Leo’s spot on the couch, Leo brought her back home with the promise to text him the minute he got back. There’s no way he would let her catch a cab back to her place all by herself. 

It’s nearly three by the time Ori trudges up the stairs to her apartment. She’s tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. Not that she will ever admit this to Cassie but tonight was fun. It wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be, and a very important someone was missing but it wasn’t as bad as she envisioned. She slips out of her heels and drops her purse on the table by the front door, she can clean up tomorrow when she’s not struggling to keep her eyes open. Right as she reaches kitchen island where her bouquet is sitting in her mother’s chipped mint green vase, her phone rings in her hand and she can’t help but grin at the name staring back at her. 

“Hey, you.”

Ori grins, dusting a finger over a stray sprig and she’s suddenly not feeling as tired.

“My day? You know, it wasn't so bad actually. It got better there at the end. Even better now.”