#companies benefit from poverty

[mbrainspaz]

the manager asked me how to find more workers like me. I had reminded her (again) that we need another worker in order to be fully staffed for the summer. She said she can only ‘afford’ to hire someone part time. I told her good luck, basically. Hope you like hiring desperate angry men who have zero reasons not to do crimes, ‘cause in most cases you get what you pay for. No way you’re finding another guy who has over a decade of industry knowledge, a degree, management experience, is clean, is fit enough, is fluent in boomer etiquette as well as bilingual, and happens to be so catastrophically down on their luck that they’d take this job. Especially part time. That wouldn’t even cover most people’s grocery bills, much less housing costs. She better hope she finds a really eccentric teenage horse girl with rich parents or we’re screwed. Actually that’s my other coworker except he’s a 30 year old man. Nah, this company is never gonna stoop to paying a worker what they’re actually worth. Like beeeeesh I’m worth almost double what you’re paying me in this biz alone and instead you started me on Seattle’s minimum wage and gave me a 2% raise while prices at the grocery store went up 30%. If the company didn’t offer me a house to live in along with the sh*t pay I wouldn’t even be here. I’d rather live in my car than funnel 80-90% of my paycheck directly into another landlord’s pocket. I’ll probably leave in the summer if she doesn’t hire another person, because I’m trying to build my art business back up on the side (so that I have a reason to live or whatever) and I can’t do that while this stupid company is forcing me to work overtime every week and then whining about how they can’t afford to pay me overtime. I can’t do anything with zero sick days. I can’t use my alleged vacation time. And they always want ME—the guy they’re paying as if I’m a damn disposable peasant—to fix this for them. I dunno, Sharon, did you ask your CEO if he’d consider selling one or two of his mansions so you could buy another laborer on the free market? It’s called ‘budgeting.’

[reasonsforhope]

Flint, Michigan, has one of the [United States]'s highest rates of child poverty — something that got a lot of attention during the city's lead water crisis a decade ago. And a pediatrician who helped expose that lead problem has now launched a first-of-its-kind move to tackle poverty: giving every new mother $7,500 in cash aid over a year.

A baby's first year is crucial for development. It's also a time of peak poverty.

Flint's new cash transfer program, Rx Kids, starts during pregnancy. The first payment is $1,500 to encourage prenatal care. After delivery, mothers will get $500 a month over the baby's first year.

"What happens in that first year of life can really portend your entire life course trajectory. Your brain literally doubles in size in the first 12 months," says Hanna-Attisha, who's also a public health professor at Michigan State University.

A baby's birth is also a peak time for poverty. Being pregnant can force women to cut back hours or even lose a job. Then comes the double whammy cost of child care.

Research has found that stress from childhood poverty can harm a person's physical and mental health, brain development and performance in school. Infants and toddlers are more likely than older children to be put into foster care, for reasons that advocates say conflate neglect with poverty.

In Flint, where the child poverty rate is more than 50%, Hanna-Attisha says new moms are in a bind. "We just had a baby miss their 4-day-old appointment because mom had to go back to work at four days," she says...

Benefits of Cash Aid

Studies have found such payments reduce financial hardship and food insecurity and improve mental and physical health for both mothers and children.

The U.S. got a short-lived taste of that in 2021. Congress temporarily expanded the child tax credit, boosting payments and also sending them to the poorest families who had been excluded because they didn't make enough to qualify for the credit. Research found that families mostly spent the money on basic needs. The bigger tax credit improved families' finances and briefly cut the country's child poverty rate nearly in half.

"We saw food hardship dropped to the lowest level ever," Shaefer says. "And we saw credit scores actually go to the highest that they'd ever been in at the end of 2021."

Critics worried that the expanded credit would lead people to work less, but there was little evidence of that. Some said they used the extra money for child care so they could go to work.

As cash assistance in Flint ramps up, Shaefer will be tracking not just its impact on financial well-being, but how it affects the roughly 1,200 babies born in the city each year.

"We're going to see if expectant moms route into prenatal care earlier," he says. "Are they able to go more? And then we'll be able to look at birth outcomes," including birth weight and neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) admissions.

Since the pandemic, dozens of cash aid pilots have popped up across the nation. But unlike them, Rx Kids is not limited to lower-income households. It's universal, which means every new mom will get the same amount of money. "You pit people against each other when you draw that line in the sand and say, 'You don't need this, and you do,' " Shaefer says. It can also stigmatize families who get the aid, he says, as happened with traditional welfare...

So far, there's more than $43 million to keep the program going for three years. Funders include foundations, health insurance companies and the state of Michigan, which allocated a small part of its federal cash aid, known as Temporary Assistance for Needy Families.

Money can buy more time for bonding with a baby

Alana Turner can't believe her luck with Flint's new cash benefits. "I was just shocked because of the timing of it all," she says.

Turner is due soon with her second child, a girl. She lives with her aunt and her 4-year-old son, Ace. After he was born, her car broke down and she was seriously cash-strapped, negotiating over bill payments. This time, she hopes she won't have to choose between basic needs.

"Like, I shouldn't have to think about choosing between are the lights going to be on or am I going to make sure the car brakes are good," she says...

But since she'll be getting an unexpected $7,500 over the next year, Turner has a new goal. With her first child, she was back on the job in less than six weeks. Now, she hopes she'll be able to slow down and spend more time with her daughter.

"I don't want to sacrifice the time with my newborn like I had to for my son, if I don't have to," she says."

-via NPR, March 12, 2024

[phoenixyfriend]

Raising the Minimum Wage and Its Effects

Ko-fi prompt from [name redacted]:

So, what does raising the minimum wage really do to the rest of the economy?

Hecking Complicated! I think I might need a doc of just. References for this one. But here are a few elements!

(Also, the Congressional Budget Office has an interactive model of how different changes to the minimum wage could affect various parts of the economy, like poverty rates and overall employment. Try it out!)

Reduction of Benefits

A common claim that is used to argue against the minimum wage is that it will result in companies cutting hours for their employees in order to recoup losses by having to provide benefits to fewer employees. This isn't 'the minimum wage is bad' so much as 'corporations are assholes,' but it is unfortunately still a thing that happens. (Harvard Business Review)

This is not a problem with the minimum wage itself, in my opinion, but these issues are emblematic of the weight that self-serving elements of capitalism carry. The low minimum wage is just one part of many that contribute to the current wealth disparity; if things like health insurance were universal, then bosses wouldn't be as able to cut them to employees in order to save money. Current regulations incentivize companies to hire more part-time workers than full-time, in order to avoid paying out benefits. Some cities have enacted Fair Workweek Laws in order to combat these approaches, though the impact is as of yet uncertain (Economic Policy Institute, 2018). Early reports, like the Year Two Worker Impact Report on Seattle’s Secure Scheduling Ordinance, do seem to indicate positive results, though:

In addition, the SSO led to increases in job satisfaction and workers’ overall well-being and financial security. In particular, the Secure Scheduling Ordinance had the following impacts for Seattle workers: - increased work schedule stability and predictability - increased job satisfaction and satisfaction with work schedules - increased overall happiness and sleep quality, and reduced material hardship. (direct quote from the Year Two Eval)

Unfortunately, these were approved at the earliest in 2015 (San Francisco's Formula Retail Employee Rights Ordinances, which went into effect in March 2016), which means that none of them were in play for longer than five years before COVID-19 ground the planet's economy to a near halt. I tried to find results for the San Francisco laws, but I couldn't find any studies for it; I did find an article from March 2023 that summarized which cities in California have brought in fair workweek laws, though, so maybe someone could use that as a jumping off point (What Retailers Should Know About California Scheduling Ordinances).

Companies prevented from cutting benefits by cutting hours would probably find another way to do the same thing, but let's be real: keeping the minimum wage low won't stop them from cutting every corner possible. EPI has some articles, like "The role of local government in protecting workers’ rights," that talk about how these measures can be, and have been, implemented to protect workers from cost-cutting employers.

Cutting the hours and benefits of part-time employees is a real, genuine concern to have about raising the minimum wage, and those need to be anticipated and combated in concert with raising the minimum wage. However, it is not a reason to keep the minimum wage depressed. It's just a consequence to be aware of and plan for.

Passing Costs On To Customers

A common argument against raising the minimum wage is that companies will raise costs in order to cover the raise in expenses, to a degree that nullifies the wage hike. This is, um. Uh.

Really easily debunked?

Like, really easily.

Over a ten-plus year period, research found that a 10 percent increase in the minimum wage resulted in just a 0.36 percent increase in prices passed on to the consumer at grocery stores. A similar Seattle-based study showed that supermarket food prices were not impacted by their minimum wage increase. - (Minimum Wage is Not Enough, Drexel U.)

I've talked about it before, but in some cases it's just a matter of how US-based labor is such a comparatively small portion of costs for medium-to-large businesses that raising wages doesn't raise corporate expenditures that much.

That said, some companies rely on drastically underpaying their employees, like Walmart. Walmart's revenue in 2020 was approximately $520 billion (Walmart Annual Report, page 29). Now, this report doesn't actually tell us what amount is spent on labor, but it does give us the "Operating, selling, general and administrative expenses, as a percentage of net sales." This is, to quote BDC, "[including] rent and utilities, marketing and advertising, sales and accounting, management and administrative salaries."

So, wages are just part of the (checks) 20.9% of revenue that is operating SG&A expenses. But maybe I'm being mean to Walmart! After all, the gross profit margin is only 24.1%, so only 3.2% is left for those poor shareholders!

Oh, oh, that means the profit is still over 16billion USD? And Walmart cites having 2.2 million associates in that same report? And that's about $7,500 per employee per year that's being withheld? And that's before we take costs up by like three cents per product?

Which, circling back: A study from Berkeley by the name of "The Pass-Through of Minimum Wages into US Retail Prices: Evidence from Supermarket Scanner Data" found that

a 10% minimum wage hike translates into a 0.36% increase in the prices of grocery products. This magnitude is consistent with a full pass-through of cost increases into consumer prices.

Of course, Walmart does sell more than just groceries, but isn't it interesting that raising a minimum wage resulted in such a small cost increase? If we assume this is linear (it's probably not, but I have so many numbers going on already), then doubling wages from 7.25 to 14.50 would still mean only a 3.6% increase costs! Your $5 gallon of milk would go up to [checks] $5.18.

Hm. Those 18 cents might be meaningful to our poorest citizens, but if those poorest citizens are more likely to be raised out of poverty by raising the minimum wage, then it might just be the case that they too can afford the new price of milk, and have more money left over for things like... rent. Or education. Or healthcare.

Maybe even a cost cutting loss leader like Walmart can reasonably increase its wages. After all, they still have 13 stores on Long Island, where the minimum wage is $15, and has been since 2021.

(I could have just cited the Berkeley study and moved on, but after a certain point I was too deep in parsing the Walmart report to not include it.)

But also... minimum wage increases are often staggered. They start out on the bigger companies, which have the resources to accommodate those changes (unless they've been doing stock buybacks), and then later on the smaller businesses, now that a portion of the economy (those working for the big companies) has the spare change to spend money at those smaller businesses that are raising their prices by a little more than the corporations.

And at that point, all I can really say is, well.

If you can't afford to pay your employees a living wage, you're not an oppressed company. You're just a failing company. Sorry, Walmart&Co, your business model is predicated on fucking over poor people, and so it's a bad business model.

Being a dickhead, while successful, is not actually 'smart' business practice.

(This doesn't even get into the international impacts, like what an "American companies should pay higher wages abroad, especially if they charge higher-than-American pricing for their products, but also at factories where we know they're committing human rights abuses" approach could be but this is already long as fuck so that'll have to wait for another post.)

Anyway.

Inflation

This one is tied into the cost argument above, but like...

Inflation is already a thing? Inflation is happening whether we raise the minimum wage or not. Costs go up whether we raise the minimum wage or not. Who is this argument serving? Not the people who can't afford rent, surely.

Quoting the earlier-mentioned Drexel report (red highlights mine):

While the minimum wage has been adjusted numerous times since its implementation in 1938, it has failed to keep up with inflation and the rising cost of living. The purchasing power of minimum wage reached its peak in 1968 and steadily declined since. If it had kept up with inflation from that point it would have reached at least $10.45 in 2019. Instead, its real value continues to go down, meaning minimum wage employees are essentially being paid less each year. Additionally, some economists argue if minimum wage increased with U.S. productivity over the years, it would be set currently at $26 per hour today and poverty rates would be close to non-existent with little negative impact on the economy. However, because gradual change was avoided, the extra funds were instead shifted to CEO compensation. A sudden change in wages now could possibly make a more noticeable impact on the economy, which is often cited as reasoning for a slower increase over time moving forward. Gradual increases with inflation and productivity could have avoided any potential economic ripple effects from wage increases and should be considered in ongoing plans.

Increasing Unemployment

A common argument is that the unemployment rate would jump as employers were forced to let employees go. Assuming they didn't just hire more employees so they could give them less hours in order to cut benefits... not really!

A 2021 article from Berkeley News summarizes the issue, along with several others, covering some thirty years of research that started with "Minimum Wages and Employment: A Case Study of the Fast-Food Industry in New Jersey and Pennsylvania," published in 1993. They also touch on the issue of subminimum wages for tipped workers, though they do not address the subminimum wages set for underage and disabled workers.

“A minimum wage increase doesn’t kill jobs,” said Reich, chair of UC Berkeley’s Center on Wage and Employment Dynamics (CWED) . “It kills job vacancies, not jobs. The higher wage makes it easier to recruit workers and retain them. Turnover rates go down. Other research shows that those workers are likely to be a little more productive, as well.” - Berkeley News article, "Even in small businesses, minimum wage hikes don’t cause job losses, study finds"

Lower turnover rates also save money for employers, as it causes them to have much lower HR expenses. How much money do you think large employers spend on using sites like Indeed or Glassdoor to find new employees?

This article from Richmond Fed does, admittedly, encourage a slightly grayer analysis:

In a 2021 review of some of the literature, [researchers] reported that 55.4 percent of the papers that they examined found employment effects that were negative and significant. They argued that the literature provides particularly compelling evidence for negative employment effects of an increased minimum wage for teens, young adults, the less educated, and the directly affected workers. On the other hand, in a 2021 Journal of Economic Perspectives article that analyzed the effect of the minimum wage on teens ages 16-19, Alan Manning of the London School of Economics and Political Science wrote that although the wage effect was sizable and robust, the employment effect was neither as easy to find nor consistent across estimations. Thus, although the literature supports an effect on employment among the most affected workers, it does not appear to be as sizable as theory might suggest.

The International Labor Organization has a similarly mixed result when taking a variety of studies into account. (I left in their own reference links.)

In high-income countries, a comprehensive reviews of about 70 studies, shows that estimates range between large negative employment effects to small positive effects. But the most frequent finding is that employment effects are close to zero and too small to be observable in aggregate employment or unemployment statistics (1). Similar conclusions emerge from meta-studies (quantitative studies of studies) in the United States (2), the United Kingdom (3), and in developed economies in general (4). Other reviews conclude that employment effects are less benign and that minimum wages reduce employment opportunities for less-skilled workers (5).

And there's the 60-page "Impacts of minimum wages: review of the international evidence" from University of Massachusetts Amherst, which looks at data from both the US and UK. I'll admit I didn't read this one beyond the introduction, because this is very long already.

Not all US studies suggest small employment effects, and there are notable counter examples. However, the weight of the evidence suggests the employment effects are modest. Moreover, recent research has helped reconcile some of the divergent findings. Much of this divergence concerns how different methods handle economic shocks that affected states differently in the 1980s and early 1990s, a period with relatively little state-level variation in minimum wages.

I'd encourage you to think of it this way:

Employer A pays $7.25/hr. Employer B also pays $7.25/hr. An employee works 25hrs/week for Employer A, and 20hr/wk for Employer B. The minimum wage goes up to $15/hr. Employer B cuts the employee. Employer A cuts employees as well, but not this one, and instead increases their hours to 30/wk for greater coverage.

The employee has gone from just under $400/wk to $450/wk. They lost a job, sure, but the end result... They have an extra fifteen hours of free time per week! Or more! With time to level out, you have less jobs, but more employment, because people aren't taking up multiple jobs (that someone else could have) just to survive.

This is a very, very simplified example, which doesn't take into account graduated wage increases (see the NYS labor table) or the benefits issue from before, but it does show the reality that "less jobs" doesn't necessarily mean "less pay" or "fewer employed" people, when so many of those employed at this pay are working multiple jobs.

Even the Washington Post agrees that the wage hike wouldn't cost as many jobs as conventional wisdom claims, and they're owned by Bezos. (Though I recognize the name of the article's author as the same person behind that 60-page Amherst report, so there's that to consider.)

The Kellogg Institute also points out that individual workers were, on average, more productive after receiving the pay increase, so the drop in the bottom line was softened. This is a bit debatable; the results varied based on the level of monitoring, but it's worth noting that most minimum wage jobs are pretty high-intensity, high-monitoring. Goodness knows you don't get a whole lot of time to yourself outside of the critical eye of your shift lead or customers if you're working fast food. They also note a decrease in profits, but I'd point out that they speak specifically of profits, not share of revenue.

To explain the difference: imagine you sell $100 of product in a day. The product cost you $50. Overhead (rent, utilities, taxes) cost you $10. Labor cost you $15. Profit, then, was $25, or $25.

A 16% reduction in the profit does not mean you now retain $11. It means that you retain 16% less of the $25. You now retain $21.

(This is, as with many of my examples, INCREDIBLY simplified, but I need to illustrate what the article's talking about, and I don't have infographics.)

Some other articles on the topic are from The Quarterly Journal of Economics, Business for a Fair Wage, The Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco (more critical), the Center on Wage and Employment Dynamics, the Center for Economic and Policy Research, UCLA Anderson, Vox, and The Intelligencer, which cites another Berkeley article. I do not claim to have read all of these, especially the really long ones, but the links are there if you want to look into them.

In the interest of showing research from groups that do not serve my own political views, I'm going to link an article from the Cato Institute; I do encourage you to read that one with a grain of salt, given that it's written by a libertarian thinktank, and they are just as dedicated to hunting for research that serves their political views as I am. There were a few other libertarian articles I came across, but the way they presented information kept feeling really duplicitous so I just... am not linking those, or the leftist ones I am also uncomfortable with due to the whole "I'm totally not tricking you" vibes. Also eventually I just got tired, there are so many articles on this and I am just one blogger who is not actually working for a magazine or thinktank, I am working for my own personal tumblr.

Negatively Impacting Slightly-Higher Paid Employees

Did you know that raising the minimum wage affects more than just those making minimum? It affects those just above as well. It's referred to as the ripple effect of minimum wage hikes by this Brookings article. They estimate that a wage hike would affect nearly 30% of the country's workforce.

"Price adjustments provide the principal adjustment mechanism for minimum wage increases: higher labor costs are passed through to consumers, mainly for food consumed away from home. Such an increase does not deter restaurant customers. Price increases are also detectable for grocery stores (Leung 2018; Renkin, Montialoux and Siegenthaler 2019), but not more generally. The effect on inflation is therefore extremely small." - "Likely Effects of a $15 Federal Minimum Wage by 2024," Testimony prepared for presentation at the hearing of the House Education and Labor Committee, Washington, DC (2019)

This overlaps with general criticisms of widening income equality, citing an AEA article I cannot access since it's behind a paywall. I wonder if it touches on companies like Amazon being headquartered in the city and manipulating the job market by sheer size? I can only speculate.

Plus, there are the health benefits! Which are mostly connected to lessening poverty, and through that lessening stress and increasing healthcare access, but still! Some of these results are debated, but I'd need to know more about the details to know how they're related (University of Washington).

------

I've spent most of the day on this, so if you guys have made it this far and are interested in supporting me, please donate to my ko-fi or commission an article. (Preferably for more than the base price; I'm effectively working at a fraction of minimum wage myself, which is ironic considering the theme of this post.)

(I realistically shouldn't have spent more than two or three hours on this, but I have so many strong opinions on the subject that I couldn't stop.)

(Also: There were so many more sources I didn't even get to read the basic premise of because it was so repetitive after a while.)

[liberalsarecool]

Billionaires reimagined by AI in an alternative universe if they were born without rich parents, didn't receive billions in government handouts, and didn't have thousands of employees creating value they siphon away and rebrand as their 'personal net wealth'.

1. Donny Chumpf: Evaded taxes but didn't get away with it because he's working class, resulting in a criminal record which prevented him from obtaining another job. Chumpf spent more than half his life in prison.

2. Schemelong Musk: Musk's father was a miner but he didn't mine emeralds in Africa, but rather coal in West Virginia. After losing his mother at an early age to prescription opioids, Musk never regained focus or was able to obtain legitimate work. He spends his days roaming the streets loudly ranting to himself about space travel, underground tunnels, and magical coins with dogs imprinted on them that will replace the US dollar and global currencies.

3. Shill Tate: Had a good longterm job at a factory that makes chips for personal computers, but executives made the decision to relocate the plant to China so they could boost their bonuses. He and most of his community were never able to recover despite great efforts.

4. Jep Bozo: An enterprising and hardworking boy, Bozo got his first formal job at 15-years-old at the local warehouse for a global corporation. Despite working 60 hours a week for 20 years in backbreaking labor, Bozo never escaped poverty. He was injured on the job and without adequate medical or leave benefits, was told not to return.

5. Mac Chucklef*ck: Since youth, Mac had a lot of promise and was even accepted into Stanford University. Then Mac got in trouble for using the school's resources to bootstrap a private tech company which kept a database of images of female students without their consent. He was booted from the school, and without a college degree couldn't find good work and turned to a series of unsuccessful side hustles to make a living.

#InheritedWealth #TaxTheRich

[deramin2]

All Clothes Are Handmade

As a sewist with access to a lot of fancy commercial-grade equipment, I think about this a lot. People have this idea that there's a lot of automation in making clothes, that robots do most of the work. They do not. Very low-wage humans do.

The machines can make fancy stitches, but they can't guide them. Cloth takes fine dexterity and constant adjustments to work with. Any sewist who's tried to sew a straight line but had their thoughts stray know how fast it goes tits up. The 2+ pieces need to be carefully pinned together (expert sewists can use very few pins, but still need some), and then carefully guided and managed so they stay exactly together as the same tension without wrinkles. And if there's any kind of curve, it takes great skill to do all of that while turning at precisely the right angle at the right time while keeping everything together. And then a human has to detect the end and change the stitch appropriately to secure the ends.

And then there's fabric management. A the front the fabric bunches in your lap and tries to fall down at weird angles. At the back in bunches up and tries to pull at weird angles. So you're constantly having to manage where all that fabric is going that you aren't currently sewing. And if you're sewing in the round (like putting on a sleeve), you have to manage bringing the back around to the front. All of this twists the entire garment, which has to be managed even when most of it is sitting next to you. In home sewing this is sometimes a 2-person job.

A machine cannot do any of that that. Automating clothing manufacturing is a holy grail people have been working on for a couple hundred years and are nowhere close to achieving. It takes the kind of very precise and constant adjustment with a sharp mind and keen eye that humans are very good at and machines are very bad at. Machines only sew in straight lines.

But people look at fast fashion prices and assume robots must be making their clothes. But they aren't. Highly skilled human beings in horrific work conditions at breakneck speed and brutal hours are being paid pennies to make even the cheapest and most low-quality garment. The entire commercial and consumer chain has simply dehumanized them into "must be robots."

This red swimsuit is selling for $10.99 from Walmart. It probably cost $2-$3 to produce.

This striped swimsuit is selling for Beefcake Swimwear for $99. This is the fair price for a swimsuit made with ethical labor.

Beefcake is a small Portland, Oregon company that uses local labor, local materials, and doesn't have a high markup. They cost $49 to manufacture (maybe more now with inflation). (With business expenses, trust me that margin is really slim.) Beefcake talks about "The real cost of American-made swimwear." Half the cost to produce is labor costs. I'd wager half the cost of the fabric is also labor costs. This is why clothing isn't typically made in the US, except using prison labor that's pretty literally slavery.

This is the true cost of a product that attempts to not exploit its workers. It's a luxury most people can't afford because the entire labor market exploits workers to the point of being unable to afford anything but exploitative goods and services. Fast fashion has convinced people they greatly benefit from supporting the worst of that exploitation.

These swimsuits were made on similar machines with similar materials by people with similar skill. The same degree of automation went into both of them. But the Walmart manufacturer sewists got paid less than a dollar to make that one and live in abject poverty, and the Beefcake sewists got paid $22, which is livable.

But robots didn't make either of these. human hands did. Human hands made every single piece of clothing in your closet. Think of how to cherish and care for their work.

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Part 2

Fandom: LOTR

Ship: Eomer x F!Reader

Trope: Arranged marriage

Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Fun facts: I only wrote this extended fic for this one sex scene during their wedding night. This gif is my favourite thing to look at right now. It's late and I'm tired so.

Word counts: 4 090

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

During the long weeks leading to the wedding, your days were either spent with your mother or Gera, taking over in your mother’s absence.

Indeed, thanks to your father’s insistence, she had been appointed as the wedding organizer. Or something akin to it. She was fussing and busying herself like she had never before, not even for Moira’s wedding. Your mother was a force of nature, but she could be a lot and having Gera was a good contrast to your mother’s buzzing energy.

First, the chiefmaid had kept you company or helped you find your way around the place. Quickly, she became a big part of your days. You visited orphanages with her and brought food to those in need in Sofia’s company. Over these shared times, she became a godmother of sorts - and her daughter a friend - always present when you needed them, and you always there when they needed you.

“Milady, I do believe it is most improper for you to work with the cooks in the kitchen.”

It had taken you almost three whole days of imploring her before you had managed to make Gera yield.

Gera did not believe in such a fantasy as fun. It was working or resting, no in-between. With that statement in mind, she had still followed you to the kitchen while you were asking questions to the bewildered pastry chefs meeting the future queen in such an unofficial manner.

When she asked for what purpose you wanted to cook, the word “fun” came out of your mouth. “To forget” would have been a more accurate description. Eomer’s attitude towards you had become erratic and even avoidant. You could not know why as he would not give you straight answers, always mentionning something he needed to take care of. The gestures of affection he had towards you were limited to him occasionally kissing your forehead and offering you his arm while walking. You had not had a good walk in days, the weather going grim with your mood.

The plates you were cooking always ended up given to people in need.

After that first expedition, it had become a habit of yours to go down to the kitchen to help, a few hours here and there when you could.

But, for every effort you made, Eomer seemed to have forgotten about you. Your actions were out of boredom, but if it could benefit the poorer all the better. He was always busying himself with new economic plans or diplomatic correspondence. He would not tell you about any of those things either and you figured it would take his mind off of things to talk about more mundane things. Like cooking. Suffice to say, it did not work.

So, when he stepped into the kitchen one day, leaving Gera to usher the poor cooks away, you were surprised, to say the least.

“Milady, you do know it is most improper for a future queen to wander around without an escort.

It had to be a trick of the mind though, Eomer did not feel that way and he had made that clear, spending all of his time away from you. Telling you about her. Amongst the fleeting moments of affection you had shared, he had talked to you about Enora. About the woman she was. It felt as a much needed talk for him. For you, it left you questioning everything. Even his commitment to you. Especially his commitment. It was clear that he wanted to keep you out. What for, that was a question you did not have the answer to, as many others when it came to him.

I had Gera until you arrived, my lord.”

He called your name in a soft commanding tone. You could feel the embrace you were missing in his words.

“I am sorry, that you find no suitable distractions in the castle. Nevertheless, you can not come in here. It is not your place. Nor mine as it turns out.”

You sighed. This day was bound to happen. It was improper, and that was that. People would talk. Even he had to uphold his status. He had to, even if he did not want to. Just like you soon enough.

“I know. I am aware of that. I just… Needed space. From the wedding’s preparation, from my mother - I love her but she’s hovering a lot these days, maybe… maybe even from myself. I cannot hear myself think these days.”

You could have sworn his cheeks took a hint of pink as you looked at him from under your lashes. Unbeknown to you, he had grown quite fond of hearing what you were doing and who you were doing it for, your good deeds to his people never going unheard. The cakes going to orphaned children in need, bread to the beggars in the streets, when you were not willingly spending time with the servants, giving a hand where you could. He admired your dedication and kindness a little more every day, despite himself, and his lost lover’s shadow.

-Yet, you do not share that with me. We have not talked much or been in the same room for longer than a few moments since the engagement has been announced. Were you trying to avoid me?”

“I know. I feel the same way.

Over the weeks, your presence had been missing. The little things he would have loved to be doing with you. Your hand on his arm at the engagement party imprinted in his mind. He missed you. All of you. Eomer had thought himself more of a practical person, reasonable, and smart. In this case, he had thrown everything out of the window. Where his first fiancée enhanced his duties, you made up new ones. You were so different, her and you. You could not compare to her and she could not compare to you. She was gone and you were alive. So alive, he yearned for you in a way he had forgotten. You made him feel again.

His head bowed, his eyes cast down. Words were escaping him. He had thought long and hard about this relationship.

“Yes. I was trying to avoid you.”

Your anger was only growing within you. You were frustrated by his actions but could not blame him for them. When it came to Eomer, you had become blind. As soon as you had recognized it for what it was, it felt easier to smile when thinking of him even if he was not thinking of you. No matter what he would do, you knew you would forgive, for you would love him. From that first day until the last.

His voice was lower now, as one of a child being chastised.

“I was afraid.”

His steps brought him next to you, only a meter or two from where you were. Just as he lowered his voice, you softened yours.

“How could you be afraid? I am just a woman.”

His hand took yours and you released a sigh you did not know you were holding. In the back of your mind, you willed your memory to keep those moments tucked away safely. You were sure they would not happen again.

“A woman in grief. A woman I chose. A woman I can not seem to care for as she needs.”

He closed in on you, a mere breath away now, his palm a gentle reminder of his presence on the side of your face, your eyes closed for your own sake. You could not drown in him. You would not. Not when it meant heartbreak.

“Sometimes, I try not to seek you out.”

You could not look at him, but from under your lids, you could feel his breath fanning over your cheek, his head bowed to you in silent prayer. The question burned your lips.

“Why not?”

His hands were now cradling your face, your eyes forced to look at him. His brows furrowed, lips parted in quiet stillness, the way he looked at you, mercy and hurt in the eye, made your heart clench in despair.

“I am guilty of selfishness. When I am with you, I forget. I forget what she looked like and who she was. When I am with you, the ghost of her disappears and I don’t know if…”

His lips parted, as if to say something again, were an invitation you could not refuse. Pushing a little you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him with everything you had. His hands found your waist, making you pull away brutally.

-What for?

“I am sorry, my lord, I…

-The… Just now. And… I did not wish to make you forget. You loved her. Why would I wish to erase her from your memories? She’s a part of you. But, I am selfish too, and…”

You took a deep breath. The feelings you had wanted to snuff out were too strong now. They had to be faced and felt.

-I promise.”

“If you are feeling the way you tell me you are, then I need to know you will be there fully when you’re with me. I… Eomer, I cannot compete with a ghost.

There had been no hesitation in his voice.

He grabbed your face in his hands, and kissed you again, slowly, with eternity in his mind.

The day of the wedding was the worst. You could not see each other all day, it had you both on edge. You were nervous beyond what you could handle, your mother feeding you sweets and Gera swiftly pushing the maids out of your room. You were sure you would suffocate.

Every day it was something new. One day it was a brush of his lips below your ear. The other, his fingers linking with yours discreetly. Another one, he pulled you into an alcove, kissing you senseless, breathless, leaving marks on the exposed skin of your neck.

Once you walked down the aisle, your father’s arm securing and anchoring you, your nerves disappeared. Your father’s teary eyes as he handed you over, almost made you cry, but Eomer’s fond looks shook you to your core. Only then did you notice that the sword he had at his side kept his hand from shaking. A genuine smile on your lips, you had covered his hands with your own, wishing to settle him. The emotion in the man had been threatening to overwhelm him. He had hold onto you for comfort as you wished he would.

The ceremony and the festivities had gone by so fast, it had felt like the blink of an eye. Your parents were dancing and seemed happier than you had seen them in a very long time. They were smiling and laughing, bickering so much, you felt happy for them too. Eomer’s hand surprised you, sneaking under the table and linking his fingers with yours. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, before kissing your lips, your hand cradling his face the cold metal of your wedding band only making it harder to stop. You were his. To love and to hold, forever. How could he have been so lucky, he would never know. But he was willing and wanted to make you understand that. Your doubts and need for reassurance, although not voiced, were clear to him, in the soft moments you shared, a hint of anxiety always taking you over. He never wanted you to doubt his love and attachment for you.

Quickly enough, the night came to an end and the moment to go back to your chambers arrived. The thought of him sharing a bed with you brought a new kind of warmth to your body. The past few days your imagination had been running wild. Not that you would own up to it in front of him. Ever.

Upon entering the room, the door closing behind you, you stepped back until you were met with the wooden surface. It was your salvation when Eomer showed himself, barefoot and naked from the waist up. You wondered if your legs were not going to give out.

In the semi-darkness, silence overcoming everything, he feared you might have swallowed your tongue. In truth, you thought you had, your breathing becoming laboured and uneven.

He called your name, as you were staring, eyes blown while looking at his chest and the expanse of his shoulders, the grave notes in his voice only eliciting more heat to bloom in your abdomen. You bit your lips, not hearing him until he grabbed your shoulders.

“Hm?”

He chuckled, his knuckles caressing the side of your jaw, goosebumps left in his path. Your hands were clasped behind your back, not knowing what to do nor how to do it. Unease took hold of you where there had been only anticipation before. Eomer noticed. He stepped back, looking at you with hunger. He swallowed discreetly. You looked magnificent. His own chest was raising and falling rapidly, the adrenaline in his veins thining his patience to a thread. It made you feel desired and loved more than you could fathom.

“My love, what is the matter?”

“I-… I’ve never been with…a man before…”

You sighed, the endearment on his lips only making it harder to speak.

Fearing you might take offence if he said he knew - even though he did know -, Eomer kissed your temple trying to soothe you. His smile mirrored your own, as his hand slid behind your back, bringing you closer to him. His eyes kept looking into your own.

“I will show you if you wish.”

His lips a mere whisper away from your own, you only nodded. The span of his hands covered your hips as he kissed you. You could feel the laces of your dress coming undone thanks to his handy work, tender kisses caressing the length of your throat, and Eomer holding you against him in a gentle grip. Once the pool of cloth at your feet, your light under-dress was the only barrier between him and you. His kisses were growing heavier with every passing minute, the gentle hold he had turning into him trying to melt his body with yours. Without a word he hoisted you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bed. As he laid you down, your eyes went to the shadows of the fire on the wall before coming back to Eomer, his hair undone, tickling your bare shoulder in the dark. The space above his collarbone, the bridge of his nose, his fingers against your throat, everything illuminated by the feverish light.

Before he looked, his lips against your own he quietly asked “Is this alright…wife?”

Before you could dwell on it, he claimed your mouth for his own, his chest to yours. Your fingers found themselves in his hair, earning a grunt from him, making your core clench and your hand stop. He smirked at that as if he knew what had happened. His palm pulled up your last garment until the birth of your hips, almost revealing yourself to him.

A “Yes” escaped your tongue before you could keep it against the roof of your mouth. After all why would you?

The sweet nothing in his mouth made you whimper out of nowhere.

He helped you out of your dress, leaving the soft caress of his palms up and down your chest, the planes of his hands down your stomach and your back, open-mouthed kisses on your breasts leaving you arching into him, struggling to breathe and how he could be everywhere all at once you would never know, but you would not have stopped it for the world. His mouth trailed down your stomach, always looking at you, always making sure you were alright, just the right amount of overwhelming from him. When he reached the apex of your thighs, you noticed his bare ass in the flickering light of the fire. You swore under your breath. It only made him laugh against you.

“See something you like, princess?”

An idea came to you.

-Hmm?”

“Queen.

You propped yourself onto your elbows, looking him dead in the eye.

-Indeed… then I should treat you as such, should I not?”

“I am not a princess.

His mischievous eyes were new to you. You did not mind them one bit.

You moaned loudly when his tongue flattened against your clitoris. His eyes narrowed and he kept on going, a thirsty man finding a source to drink from. Your body arched of its own accord, full cries escaping you. Something deep in your belly was threatening to snap when he stopped. Concern was etched on his face, his lips gleaming in the dim light as he reached for your face. You shivered at the sight.

“I am alright, husband.”

You nestled your face in his palm, kissing the calloused fingers one by one.

“What about you?”

His body settled next to yours, and you could feel him against your thigh as you turned. Your mouth ran dry at the thought of him inside you.

“I am content.”

He pushed a hair out of your face, feeling the heat of your breath against his nose. What a sight you were. Pupils blown, lips swollen by his ministrations, your skin reacting to the harsh touch of his beard, a path down your body he started following with his fingers down and down again between your thighs. As he met your core, you held onto his shoulder, whimpering again, biting your lip in a silent plea for pleasure. Despite it all, you managed to utter a question.

“Only content?”

His head in the crook of your neck, you felt him stop, now looking straight at you with an adoration you were sure you could not grow tired of. You felt his fingers as he entered you. One, then the other. The soft burn of the stretch kept you from saying anything, your nails digging into his back, his hair now hovering above you, kisses raining on you. He did not answer you, only moving his fingers back and forth until you could not feel the burn of them anymore. He had you rocking your hips onto his hand, filthy sounds surrounding you, the thought of ever leaving this room having left you entirely, drunk on him and only him. Only then did he answer.

“I could not be happier than in your arms.”

“Tonight is not about me. But if you ask…” half a smile crossed his features, as you were marvelling at him, sweating and hungry for more. You never thought anyone could look at you with such reverence in their eyes.

Your heart clenched. Your hips stilled between his hands before he pulled your legs apart.

“If any of this hurts you, please tell me.”

As he pulled himself out, you could feel it down your thighs. It made you hungry for more, somehow. The emptiness he had left behind was soon replaced by the warmth of the sheets on you, his arm sneaking around your waist. He pulled you to him, your head resting on his chest, eyes weary and tired. He did not say a word, the pad of his thumb tracing the column of your spine in lazy strokes and you could hear his heart under you ever so erratic becoming soft and in rhythm with yours. Never could you have imagined this to happen to you. It was nothing short of a miracle, that he found you and you him. You let yourself bask in it for a little while, the shadows of the room luring you into a daydream you longed for deep in your soul.

He laid himself on top of you, his weight never suffocating you, his eyes ever so inquisitive. You nodded slowly, fingers weaving in his hair making him close his eyelids under your care. He placed himself between your legs, your folds welcoming him in a warm embrace. As he pushed into you, a tear escaped you, a dull pain at the pit of your stomach appearing. It stopped with the movement of his hips against yours, ever so gentle, his irises never leaving your face, forehead against yours, before leaving blazed kisses on your skin. Something feral woke up deep inside you, your hand clawing at his back, enticing him to keep going. His groans and moans were echoing in your chest, when he bit down on your shoulder with a swift bite, drawing blood to the surface. The heel of his hand was gripping tightly your ass, moving your legs until they were locked at the ankle behind his back. You felt a renewal of pleasure as he moved your legs higher, visibly impossible for him to stop. His hips were sure to leave bruises on your own. Soon after, you met your end, in a blinding white light, clenching around him. Then he could not stop himself from rutting into you, leaving his seed deep inside you.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

The question was asked as if in pleading, praying the bubble you were in would not burst with its utterance. Eomer merely smiled, reassuring you. He grabbed your fingers, kissing your knuckles one after the other in a tender gesture.

“Both.”

His cheeky grin made you smile despite yourself. Your eyebrows rose of their own accord, not able to hide your surprise. Amused by his newly found confidence, you laughed and kissed him deeply, weaving your hand with his. When you tried to pull back, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and a shiver ran down your spine, eyes wide open. The warmth you felt before, came again. You pulled yourself up and as you were laying on top of him, kissed him as deeply as you could. He did not stop you, his hands on your hips again, where you could feel the friction leaving him hard again. The power you had over him was so obvious. It would have been a crime not to use it to your advantage.

On instinct, a hand to the headboard to support yourself, you dragged your core up the length of him never looking away from his eyes. This new side of you was a pleasant surprise he was delighted to discover. A grunt and an insult passed his lips as the movement dragged down, before starting again, and again, and again. Seeing him willingly relent his control into your hands did things to you, you never thought yourself capable of. Abruptly, his grip on your hips tightened in a desperate gesture to stop your actions.

-…inside me.”

“As much as this is pleasant, I’d rather be…

It had rolled off your tongue so easily. Sultry tone and all. Eomer wondered how he would cope if you were to disappear from his life, taking all you were away from him. The answer never came as he snapped back to you, guiding you down on him. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your back arching into his skillful hands, while he kept on guiding you, the movement of your hips made him jerk upwards deeper into you. Making you cry out in pleasure was his new favourite thing to do, he believed it to his very core. The little sighs, your heaving chest, your hands clasped on his, right on the dips at your hips, the full-out cries, the whimpers, the way you felt as you desperately chased your climax, everything turned him on more and more with each passing minute. The worst part was the way you looked at him, with only desire dilating your pupils, adoration in your every movement when he pulled you down for a sloppy, messy, heated kiss. Forehead against his, your hips moving on instinct, the hot breaths shared between you, all of it turning feverish upon reaching the high you were seeking, before it all snapped, a heat leaking into you as he pushed deeper than before.

You stayed there, relieved, shivering in pleasure. He was still, inside of you, not willing to let you go just yet.

“Sleep now. We have all the time in the world, wife.”

You did not even bother to meet his eyes, as yours were already closing.

“No. I want to be pregnant. Now.”

Eomer laughed and it shook your whole body. Barely registering his kiss on your temple, you fell asleep as he had asked you to, in his arms, protected and content.

Next and last part

[gatheringbones]

[“If you erect a community of expensive, beautiful homes and prop up the value of those homes by making it illegal to build more housing, which turns your home into a resource so scarce that potential buyers do things like write pleading letters or make cash offers above the asking price or bid sight unseen—behavior that has become commonplace in liberal cities like Austin, Seattle, and Cambridge—then you pretty much want to keep things as they are.

If you design a public school system such that it primarily serves students of professional parents, who have the time and know-how to invest in their children’s schooling, and who can afford to pay for extra tutoring and college prep coaches and out-of-state field trips and therapy, you can create an enriching educational environment and pipeline to college. Economically integrating schools would challenge this design, this social status preservation machine, requiring rich students to share classrooms with poor students who might carry some of the traumas of poverty, speak English as a second language, and spend their summers watching a lot of television because going outside is dangerous. One study found that growing up in a severely disadvantaged neighborhood is equivalent to missing a year of school when it comes to verbal ability. Another found that achievement gaps between rich and poor children form and harden before kindergarten.

It has become fashionable these days to pitch social change to the privileged classes by appealing to their material self-interest. The right thing to do is also the best thing to do! Integrating our schools is antiracist, and it improves the overall learning environment, preparing your children for a diverse workforce! Raising the minimum wage allows workers to buy enough food, and it’s good for business, stabilizing the company’s labor force and saving on turnover costs! When then-presidential-candidate Joe Biden told a room of wealthy donors that “nothing would fundamentally change” if he were to be elected, he was repeating a familiar liberal talking point: If you join me in this effort to reduce the inequality you yourself benefit from, you won’t have to give up a thing.”]

matthew desmond, from poverty: by america, 2023

[rhube]

The Problem with Gentle Critiques

This deserves a longer, more interesting post than I have the spoons to write, but:

I have been reflecting a lot lately on the fact that Pretty Woman offers huge and insightful critiques of capitalism that I Did Not Get as a child, and have completely missed until very recently.

It's a problem a lot of 80s movies have, where capitalists legitimately do bad things and are critiqued about it, but so much of the movie is spent wallowing in the luxuries rich people have that audiences do not absorb the critique.

One of the crucial plot arcs in Pretty Woman is about how the Richard Gere character is deeply unhappy until he meets Vivian (Julia Roberts) because he is *angry* at his father, and has been taking out that anger on others by buying up their businesses, breaking them up, and selling the 'valuable' remains for profit.

Vivian makes the insightful point that his company doesn't make anything, it only destroys, and that this is partly why Edward (Gere) remains deeply unhappy, and all the therapy in the world hasn't solved that. Just recognising that you're angry at your father changes nothing. You have to change the behaviours that perpetuate that damage as well.

Vivian is a force of socialist disruption wherever she goes.

Perhaps the most memorable moment of the movie is not the romance or the business plot or the sex work, but Vivian returning to the snooty shop where the women dismissed her because she looked 'cheap' (and probably they recognised her as a sex worker). These are women who work (unfairly) on commission. They're dismissive because they don't want to waste their time helping someone they've been trained to judge won't buy anything. So these are women who won't help another woman. They're women who want to keep as far away from sex workers as they can lest they be damaged by association. But if they had co-operated, they would have all raised each other up.

But I didn't get that.

I didn't get the point about big business and the fact that extracting capital actually destroys productivity because shareholders only care about their price going up, not about funding enterprises that benefit us all. Because the business plot is boring. Even though the business men in the movie are the most grotesque and easy to hate, because of how they treat Vivian, the critique of them as business men doesn't register, because what Edward's money buys is a lot more fun: the beautiful red dress, the fabulous hotel, 'rescuing' Vivian from her life of poverty and sex work.

I also didn't get the socialist undertones of the shopping interaction. What I felt - and what I think most of us feel when we watch that moment, where Vivian comes back in with her many bags and says 'Big mistake! Big! Huge!' isn't 'Workers should unite to protect each other' or 'Women must unite in solidarity with sex workers', instead, what we feel is visceral triumph over bullies and snobs. And what enables Vivian to triumph in that way is Edward's money, and how good and expensive she looks in the clothes his money enabled her to buy.

Because she does look good (in a very 80s way). So even though the film is really well made (it's a classic for a reason) and is doing all this subtle shit with how much more free and comfortable Vivian looks in her street clothes than either she or the shop workers look in their expensive, 'smart' clothes - even though there's this beautiful thematic work going on with how Vivian's character's sex work and free spirit embody actually living life and enjoying it sensuously, and how often the rich-people environments feel sterile and unwelcoming to us as well as her - it all gets lost, because she's also Cinderella.

And don't make the mistake of thinking I'm critiquing Cinderella, because I'm not. I *get* that we all need stories about being rescued sometimes. We shouldn't have to do it all ourselves. We can't. We need stories where the people with resources make the time to see us in our struggles and lift us up out of poverty and pain. I GET IT.

The point I'm making is that a film can do all this good work - it can work hard and skilfully to critique capitalism and say your feminism must include sex workers or it will be bullshit - and it can ALL GET LOST. Because subtle points don't register when the escapism is too inviting.

People will defend Lord of the Flies and Fight Club until the cows come home for having 'real' messages that are important and get missed under the emotional impact of how the story makes you feel, but they won't make the time to do the same for Pretty Woman or The Little Mermaid (another post I should make some time) because they're 'fairytales' and 'for women' and 'feel good'. So I definitely don't want to drag the film down.

It's more that I am, 30 years too late, having an 'OH, THAT'S what you were doing!' about a movie that was making some pretty great points, and I didn't get them until I experienced a company being destroyed to extract capital from the inside.

I didn't get it because, I think, we don't see the perspectives of the workers. The only suffering we see is Vivian's, and she's wrapped up in a fairytale where she's going to be rescued and live a life of luxury at the end. We don't see what made those sales assistants behave like dicks, even though the movie shows how working on commission in a luxury store *sucks*.

We don't get the perspective of the ordinary workers in the companies Edward destroys - only their CEO, who at the end of the day would actually be fine. The idea of losing a 'family' business that 'makes something' is abstract. The CEO never made anything with his own hands, even if he 'cares' about his workers.

And yeah, a single film can only do so much, but the issue is that it's a paradigmatic example of a wider problem - also seen in Lord of the Flies and Fight Club. Which is that if your message is overtaken by revelling in the thing you want to critique, all the audience will take away is that they enjoyed the revels.

We want to be Edward and Vivian, not the shop workers. We want to burn it all down, not critique toxic masculinity.

In a world where most people know the way capitalism operates is bad, Pretty Woman makes a powerful critique. In a world where we're constantly urged to worship money... it makes it look like having money is really nice. Like you get beautiful dresses and jewellery and to get back at your bullies.

I think too often, as writers (and I am speaking of myself here) we allow ourselves to be persuaded to hold back, because we don't think people will accept what we have to say if we say it too bluntly. But actually, there are people out there who need you to scream.

And I'm not saying that Fury Road is a better movie than Pretty Woman because it confronts the issues head on and screams them in your face. We do need both. We just get a lot more of one than the other; which sadly makes the more dominant kind of film less effective.

I guess I'm saying that if you want to make a point, subtlety doesn't cut it. If you want to change minds, to go against the grain, you have to be careful not to enjoy too much that which you critique.

If you want to critique billionaires, you can't make their lives look fun.

People remember Iron Man's gadgets and fabulous home, not the critique of arms dealing.

People remember Vivian's red dress and the defeat of bullies with money, not the importance of worker solidarity.

If you want people to remember your critique, you can't be subtle.

(OK, maybe I failed at writing the short version of this post.)

[fictionadventurer]

Would you be able to tell me more about how pro-life positions are beneficial to women?

I have been becoming more pro-life over the past year because I see edges of this argument online, but I don't know enough to try to clearly explain it to myself, much less to other people. One point someone brought up that helped me see this differently was that abortions are a band-aid solution to sexual abuse and help make it easier to hide sexual violence. And I have also seen the point people make that companies would rather provide abortion care than maternity leave because it keeps people working.

I'm curious if you have other thoughts that can help me affirm this point both to myself and to others? I think there's a lot of vitriol around how people speak about women in abortion discussions, and it can make it hard for people who are on the fence to engage. And having more examples of how pro-life advocates care for women would make it easier to enter into the conversation, especially with people who take a feminist approach to the topic.

(I also want to affirm that I'm asking this in good faith, as someone who wants to learn sincerely, and I hope you might respond sincerely too. I'm taking it for granted that a fetus is also a human, so I'm more interested in how to bring up this other part of the discussion with people. If this is a topic you know less about, that's all right too.)

I tend to approach abortion debates by keeping a laser-focus on the fact that the fetus is a human and a person, because we need to remind people that no problem that the mother faces justifies killing an innocent human being. That said, the pro-life position is infinitely better for women in a bunch of different ways. I'm not going to provide sources, because there are lots of better blogs devoted to that kind of thing (@prolifeproliberty is one that's coming to mind), but I can provide a few talking points.

The biggest benefit a pro-life position provides to a woman is that she doesn't have to live with the fact that she killed her own child. People understand on an instinctive level that a woman is pregnant with a baby; they can try to gloss over it with rhetoric, but the truth remains that the woman pregnant with a human being with its own separate life to live, and abortion violently ends that life. Abortion regret is a very real thing; there's a vast increase in depression and suicide in post-abortive women, and these women often can't get help for such regret, because people deny that it exists, or because "it was her choice".

A pro-life position is also infinitely more empowering to women. Abortion supporters look at a pregnant woman and tell her, "You can't do this. You can't raise a child. You can't have a career. You can't get out of poverty. This will destroy your life." The pro-life position tells a woman that she can do this. She's strong enough. She's smart enough. Both she and her child can have fulfilling lives, because we can help her. The pro-life community provides tons of resources to help women get the supplies and medical care and support that they need to either raise the child or to find adoptive parents to help raise it. Abortion only gets rid of the child--it doesn't solve any of the other problems that made it so difficult for the woman to have a child.

Abortion is also the single greatest tool to allow men to sexually abuse women. The pro-abortion idea that men are against abortion because they want to oppress women is laughable. Men get no benefit from a pro-life position. Abortion allows men to sleep around as much as they like, and if they get a woman pregnant, they don't have to pay child support--they just pay for her abortion and go on their merry way. No concern for her mental or physical or emotional health--just convenience for him. Abortion turns both woman and child into objects for a man's pleasure, to be disposed of when they're not fun anymore.

I could go on for ages, but to keep this simple, I'll just list a few other points:

Abortion greatly increases a woman's risk of breast cancer, and can cause fertility problems later in life.

The abortion pill is extremely dangerous, especially used unsupervised, because it can cause extreme bleeding and other complications.

Abortion allows sexual abusers to hide the evidence of their sexual abuse and keep women trapped longer. This includes human-trafficking and prostitution situations.

Women are often pressured into abortion because of lack of support from their family or community. People might be willing to help her pay for the abortion, but if the woman chooses to have the child, people are unwilling to provide long-term support--it was "her choice", so she has to bear all the responsibility. A decision for abortion made under that kind of pressure isn't really concerned about "a woman's choice."

As you said, employers are far more willing to pay for abortion than they are to provide much more expensive maternity leave, health insurance, etc. It can serve as another tool for employers to oppress workers.

Abortion supporters are often so focused on increasing access to abortion that they put women at risk. They have shot down and repealed bills that require abortion clinics to be licensed and inspected and to meet certain minimum medical standards. They've allowed teenagers to get abortions without parental notification, even though they're legally not competent to make other medical decisions, and the abortion procedure could put the teen's health at risk (plus this can cause teens to be trapped even longer in trafficking situations). They shoot down measures that would require women to be given more information about the abortion procedure and other options--even though informed consent is a cornerstone of medical ethics. If abortion supporters were truly concerned about women, they would be willing to put some of these common-sense protective measures in place.

[morallyinept]

A full character analysis on MAXWELL LORD from the film WONDER WOMAN 1984

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Born Maxwell Lorenzano, known as Maxwell Lord (he changed his last name to Lord when he created Black Gold Cooperative)

Nickname(s): Max

Appears in: Wonder Woman 1984, 2020 (voice heard on screen via TV screens at approx. 11:15. First appearance on screen at approx. 31:41)

Age (if known): Unconfirmed, suspected late thirties/early forties, based on appearance

Sexuality: Straight - Max was previously married and had a wife

Nationality: Not confirmed. His original surname Lorenzano is of Italian origin, however it is never confirmed in the film Maxwell's nationality. He appears to live and work in Washington DC in the United States.

Family: 1 Son, Alistair

Spouse/Partner: No mention of a current partner

Relationship Status: Divorced, he and his ex-wife share custody of Alistair

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: English

Education: Presumed at least college educated as he started his own business

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: Owner/Director of Black Gold Cooperative, a failing oil company

Special Skill(s): Granting wishes

Notable Colleague(s): Barbara Minerva, Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): None

Piercings: None

Scar(s): None notable

Other Markings: None notable

Prominent Feature(s): Clean shaven face

Injuries: Maxwell is drained each time he grants wishes becoming weaker. His eyes become bloodshot in the scleras and he suffers intolerable headaches and nosebleeds

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Caramel/honey blonde

Personality:

Traits: Unlucky, persuasive, misguided

The film is primarily set in Washington DC, where Max's Black Gold Cooperative Offices are.

Max Lord is famous for being an extremely charming, charismatic, and powerful individual as well as a motivational-esque speaker with addition to being highly manipulative and cunning in order to obtain what he seeks, using his vast influence over people to get them them believing him and his words.

Max's original surname is Lorenzano which is Italian, however his nationality is not confirmed in the film.

Max comes from a poverty stricken family background with a violently abusive father. Max has a son of his own, Alistair, whom he seemingly pushes aside for the Dream stone and it's power, fearing that Alistair will see him as a loser father figure without it, only to realise in the end that his son loves him regardless of how successful he is, and he should be a better father to Alistair rather than seek success and fortune.

Max feigned interest in Dr Minerva to gain control of the Dream stone by tricking her into giving it to him under the guise that he could "help her in her research.” Max then wishes to become the embodiment of the stone itself, granting him its wish-granting powers, but at the price of draining his lifeforce with every wish he grants.

Due to it being the 1980's, the fashion back then for men's suits were larger padded shoulders in the suit jackets, of which is evident in Max's suits.

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfit 1 - (Opening scene on TV commercial) Light grey/cream suit suit, white shirt with red stripes, red, black and grey tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief (On the boat in the commercial Max wears a open collared white and blue striped shirt)

Outfit 2 - (Meeting Dr Minerva scene) Blue pin striped two-piece suit, white/pink striped shirt, silk tie and matching breast pocket handkerchief, gold tie clip

Outfit 3 - (Museum benefit party scene) Black tuxedo, white shirt, dark gold bowtie and matching breast pocket handkerchief, black dress shoes

Outfit 4 - (Simon apology scene) Blue three piece suit including waistcoat, white pinstriped shirt, yellow patterned tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief, black shoes

Outfit 4 - (In Egypt scene) Cream plaid patterned two piece suit, white shirt red patterned tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief, dark shoes, sunglasses

Outfit 5 - (In office capturing wishes scene and remaining film scenes) Grey three piece striped suit, including waist coat (which he is later seen not wearing with the suit), white shirt, navy pattered tie with matching breast pocket handkerchief, black shoes, blue patterned braces

Accessories: Gold Rolex watch, gold ring on left pinky finger, sunglasses when in Egypt

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Maxwell's main weapon is the Dream Stone, which he becomes himself. Through the power of wishes he is able to garner strength, more fortune and becomes almost invincible.

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Maxwell's personal chauffeur driven car appears to be Lincoln Town car

Dialogue:

🗨 See Maxwell's full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Wonder Woman 1984 Behind The Scenes, Meet Maxwell Lord, Max Lord DC Wiki Page

Info on ring & watch via Styleofpascal IG

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

[ukrfeminism]

Women can buy period pants for £2 cheaper than current prices after the government abolished a tax on the product.

As of Monday, retailers including supermarkets Marks & Spencer and Tesco, as well as clothing shop Primark, have promised to pass on the savings (worth 16%) to customers.

It follows a campaign by retailers, women’s groups and environmentalists. Other period products such as sanitary pads and tampons have been exempt since 2021.

Women will save on average up to £2 on period pants, the government said. The pledge to scrap the tax was made by the chancellor, Jeremy Hunt, in the autumn statement.

In August, retailers including Marks & Spencer and the brand Wuka were among about 50 signatories of a letter to the Treasury which urged the government to remove VAT on period pants.

In the letter, they pledged to pass on any tax cut straight to customers “so they feel the benefit of the cost-saving immediately”.

Period pants are increasingly popular, and are now on sale from major high street brands, offering a sustainable alternative to single-use products such as tampons. The pants contain a highly absorbent lining and can be used in place of sanitary pads. They can be washed and reused, just like ordinary pants. Campaigners said that removing taxation would make them more affordable.

Period pants were not covered in the 2021 law change in which the “tampon tax” on period products was removed. This is because they were classed as “garments” and therefore considered exempt.

The letter from retailers in August said that period pants “have the power to reduce plastic pollution and waste”, and could save people money in the long term. They said: “One of the main barriers to switching to period pants is the cost.”

The financial secretary to the Treasury, Nigel Huddleston, said the change was a “victory for women” and for those who had “helped raise awareness” of the importance of this product.

VAT is paid at 20% on most products, except for some items such as books children’s clothing and most food.

Victoria McKenzie-Gould, the corporate affairs director at Marks & Spencer, said the company was “thrilled” with the decision.

“Nearly 25% of women cite cost as a barrier to using period pants so we know the new legislation that comes into effect from today will make a big difference to women’s budgets across the UK.”

The savings for women are subject to the VAT cut being passed on, with retailers pledging to play their part.

Laura Coryton, a tampon tax campaigner and founder of social enterprise Sex Ed Matters, said: “Ending the tax on period underwear will make a huge difference, particularly given skyrocketing levels of period poverty across the UK.”

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Rose Tea

Group: B

Prompts- Historical AU- Regency, monster hunter, flood.

-

Intentions

Miss Arabella French, known to those closest to her as Belle,   a rather handsome knowledgeable woman of one and twenty,  well-read and well- disposed by her gentle upbringing and naturally friendly demeanour, felt happy in the life she knew. The only daughter of the town parson,  she had a lifelong  passion for  knowledge and reading.  Due in no small part to the influence of her late mother,  who had fallen ill and was laid to rest  some three years ago. 

As she matured in age, however, Miss French began to  feel a sense of longing. A longing to  experience more of  the world beyond the walls of Avonlea Abbey or her father’s watchful eye . Years passed, and the family slowly began to sink into poverty.  Belle spent many an evening deep in prayer for any respite from her situation.  

She found  her answer one  spring afternoon. Arabella has taken a pause from her sewing to spend hours  engulfed in Byron when the Abbey was greeted with a visitor.  Marking the passage in her book,  Arabella tuned her ears to listen. 

She could hear three rather distinct voices:  one  she knew as her father,  the other  the unmistakable bragging tone of Captain Gaston—-- her recently betrothed, and the other unfamiliar but with an almost musical lilt.  

As curiosity got the better of her, Arabella  went to investigate. 

“Arabella, my dear,  “ Her father gave her  a soft smile.  “ May I  introduce you to Mr Gold.  He has come  to make an offer that he claims shall benefit us all.” 

Arabella looked at the man  curiously.  She had heard countless rumours  about Mr Gold. Many  had described him  as a sort of rake. The sort of man who preferred the company of a select few, if even that.  He was often called ‘a great beast’ and had a temperament to match.  

Swallowing hard, Arabella  gave  the man a petite curtsy.  “How do you do, Mr Gold? “   Trying to hide all traces of fear behind propriety.  

Mr Gold bowed with effort. “ it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, before  turning back to the other two men. 

“Your offer” Arabella began,  her thoughts already racing. “ Do you plan on purchasing the Abbey?” 

Mr Gold’s expression changed.  He looked directly towards her.  “I had considered the thought,”  He rubbed his hands together.  “ Though   I believe I have a new offer in mind.” He  stepped towards her,  the shuffling of his cane on the floor growing louder with each step.   “ My proposition is to you, Miss French.  You shall come with me.” 

Arabella could see her father and Gaston’s mouths agape. 

“No!” exclaimed her father.  “ I cannot allow this.  She is my only daughter. Whatever your intentions may be , Gold,  I forbid this!” 

Gaston reached out a hand, as if grasping her shoulder in protection.  “ Miss French is engaged. To me. I know your sort. On the battlefields I’ve become adept at hunting monsters.” 

Mr Gold shook his head.  “I can assure you my intentions are nothing untoward.  “ He made a face in mock offense. “ I am simply in need of a caretaker. I am in possession of a rather large estate.  No harm will come to  her, and it shall be  enough payment to restore this”  He looked around the Abbey . “wretched place.” 

Arabella spoke up.  “I shall go with him.  I must.  This is is my home.  And I have often dreamt of seeing other places.” 

Her father sighed.  “Then  I approve.  I only pray that no harm will come to you.”  

—----

The carriage ride from Avonlea Abbey to  Gold’s estate felt like an eternity.  Mr Gold was not one for conversation, but  Belle  had brought a few books  to occupy herself on the way.  After their arrival and caring for the horses,   she assumed now would be as good a time as any to ask. 

“If I may, Mr Gold,  what shall I be required to do?”  She surveyed the estate .  It was massive, larger than  anywhere she had seen before. If the rumors were correct, Gold  had  made a generous bit of money dealing in wool and one of the up and coming factories.   

Gold raised a hand, ticking off each detail on his fingers.  “You are to keep  the estate clean, you are to  cook my meals, do a bit of sewing,  and you are to  go to market if necessary. I shall provide you the money .” 

Belle nodded, taking in each detail.  “I understand. Perhaps I could start by preparing your tea?”   

Maneuvering  to the kitchen,  she returned several moments later with a pot of tea and two steaming cups.  As she carried them , however, one of the cups slipped from her hand , hitting the floor . 

“I do aplogize!” Belle said frantically,  carefully bending down to clean it. “ It is only a chip.” 

“No matter. It is only a cup.” 

—-----

Months passed at the Gold estate.  Belle had gotten a sort of routine now each morning. She awoke as the sun rose ,  prepared his breakfast,  washed and mended any of his clothes , cleaned the kitchen ,  and every now and then—-usually on Sundays,  had a few moments in which she could delve into her books.  

One particular Sunday,,  something most extraordinary happened.   

After breakfast and her prayers and contemplation,  Belle had began to clear the dishes when the shuffling of a cane greeted her.  

“ Miss French,  a word?” 

Belle clumsily rinsed a pan .  “ Sir?” 

“ I have been invited to a ball this evening.  However,  I am out of practice at dancing and am in need of a partner.”  He gestured for her to follow him.   “And you shall wear this.”  He pointed to a golden silk gown laid onto her bed.   

A flood of emotions overtook Belle in that one moment.  “Oh, Mr Gold.  I cannot accept this.  “  

“Consider it a gift then.”  

—-----

The ballroom was crowded that night-  dancers bowing to their partners as the country dance began.   

As the last notes of the final piece played,  Belle looked into Mr Gold’s eyes as they danced.  She had not noticed the sadness and emotion permeating through them.   

“You are quite good” He commented,  nearly leaning in to kiss her.  “ And there is one other request, Miss French. :” 

Belle felt the warmth throughout her whole body at his kiss.  “ A request?” 

Mr Gold nodded.  “ When we were introduced ,  I explained my intentions to you and your father.  Do you recall?” 

Belle smiled.  “I do indeed.” 

“ And I shall add an additional one.  I intend to marry you.”  

-

[biblically-accurate-bimbo]

i genuinely believe those who glorify "the grind" and take pride in working 40+ hours a week are the most mentally fucked up among us, actually. the way we exist isn't normal, necessary, or healthy. credit scores are the same age as taylor swift. it's all made up bullshit. it hasn't "always been like this," nor does it have to continue. ask yourself why it does; who does it benefit to maintain the sinking ship that is the status quo of our society?

none of this is sustainable. the majority of us are beyond burnt out and barely getting by. the 1% doesn't care. i really think one of the first, most instrumental steps to change has to be a collective refusal from the working class to continue reframing workplace exploitation as being a "hard worker and loyal team player." this gaslighting rhetoric needs to be rejected. people need to re-read oliver twist and pay heed to the themes.

these multi-billion dollar corporations are reporting record profits while paying poverty wages to the employees building their fortunes. they could easily pay livable wages and the higher ups would still make more money in a week than some of us could ever fathom seeing in our own bank accounts after a lifetime of toiling. these companies don't pay poorly and force us to live paycheck to paycheck because an alternative isn't perfectly possible.

they do so because they see the working class strictly as labor - not as lives equal to their own; deserving of comfort, fulfillment and free time. stop glorifying this. stop enabling them by parroting manipulative mantras they popularized to begin with. you aren't "on your grind." you've just been trained to romanticizing your own exploitation, and even take pride in it.

you should be furious. you should be devastated. we only get one, fleeting lifetime. how have we gone so wrong as a society that we've normalized the majority of us wasting it away like this? we were not born to be the human equivalent of cattle for the ultra wealthy. life should be more than this.

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

London is a city that has always been deeply uneven, with plenty of cultural treasures to hide the poverty in the Tower Blocks and the underpasses. London is effectively the main of the UK economy, and everything is geared towards it. Hence it retains a degree of economic dynamism that allows a degree of optimism, after all there's always a new restaurant, new exhibition, new flagship store, new play. Sure most workers are dirt poor, living on mashed avocado, and hoping the landlord gets visited by 3 Ghosts at Christmas, but there's the dream of making it in the big city.

Outside the London bubble, large parts of the country are either in despair, or have totally given up. Roads, bridges, hospitals, and schools are crumbling. Police have almost disappeared outside traffic stops. Courts are backlogged, prisons overfilled & well past their designed lifespan. Companies face significant trade barriers with the EU. The water industry is essentially operating on leveraged debt and mostly owned by oversea's pension funds, whilst the infrastructure collapses and raw sewage is being pumped into the rivers/seas. Everyone is underpaid compared to the cost of living, but also compared to many comparable roles in other countries.

In the shires, the more well paid commuter class can still have a nice life, but they are feeling a sharp pinch. Holidays cut. Cars held on to much, much longer than before. Meals out being reduced. Optional extras like music or sports for the kids cancelled. Impulse purchases stopped. All of which sounds like "oh poor Emma can't get her daughter Lucinda piano lessons boo hoo" but think about the economic impact. That is money that would have gone to a piano teacher (usually self employed), to the coffee shop whilst Emma waits, to a music shop for music, perhaps a CD or concert tickets to something Lucinda played at a lesson. Then when Lucinda grows up instead of having a career in arts or entertainment, even at her local bar or church, she doesn't know how to play piano. So society as a whole has lost a musician, and Lucinda as a person flourishes slightly less. The UK arts sector is one of our biggest economic powerhouses, yet it is routinely ignored and hammered by the govt. Art & music are regarded as luxury items, despite contributing £1.6 billion to the annual economy (2021 at 5.6%). That's huge, bigger than the fishing industry which contributes £1.4 billion (2021 at 4%). Yet with rents sky rocketing, and school budgets in utter crisis, arts/music get dropped and creative talent has to switch to more routine jobs to survive. UK Musicians are dropped from EU events following the botched visa system, and international work is increasingly harder for them to get.

Outside the diminishing middle class, the real difficulty and poverty of the UK hits home. People are not sure whether the next rent payment or electricity will quite literally bankrupt them and leave them homeless. Wages are mostly static, with few rises outside a number of key sectors. Some areas have seen wage growth, but that has been concentrated in a small number of jobs (especially finance/management). The population is aging, and the care system is left almost entirely to private companies in a very disjointed, expensive manner. For most people the only credible hope of a financially better life is to inherit or to win the lottery or to commit crime. This is strikingly similar to the pattern seen in many developing world economies.

For example, I have worked in the public sector for 20 years. In that time I have trained, gained professional qualifications, led larger teams, upskilled on IT/project management and become more productive. Since my pay has been capped at a 0.5% rise, it is a real terms wage cut. So I've become more productive yet I'm paid less. Why should I 1) carry on trying to be more productive, & 2) stay in the job? Productivity increases from workers have to be linked to a personal reward, as well as a benefit to an employer or there's no point for the employee. Hence "quiet quitting".

So the UK is in the dire position of poor infrastructure, rampant poverty, and a population that no longer believes hard work or being productive will improve their own lives, only maintain their survival. This is not a recipe for a flourishing economy or nation. The worst thing is that the UK has started to lose hope that things can get better without a magical solution. Without at least some hope, we are doomed.

Saved via reddit from user 'AgeOfVictoriaPodcast' - as an excellent (if depressing!) summary of the UK's economy and society in 2023 / the 2020s / post Brexit

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Date Night Pt. 3

Summary: Yen Ori'ken finally found her calling as a matchmaker. The work was involved and fulfilling. After helping Rex find his own perfect match, the Captain calls in a favor for one of his brothers. Yen knows she is up to the task, but this trooper proves to be her most difficult client yet.

A/N: Alright, y'all. This chapter has been rewritten so many times I can't even. Two seconds before submitting it earlier, I realized I didn't have the depth I wanted and did a lot of heavy edits and what was supposed to be the final chapter got split into two. So, now Pt 3 is more an intro to Yen and Dogma.

Pairing: Dogma x OC (Yen Ori'ken, RTL Matchmaker Extrodinaire)

Warning: SFW. Mentions of Umbara, general exploration of guilt and anxiety but nothing specific/no details.

W/C: 4,860

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tapping the papers gently on her desk to help them fall into place in their folder, Yen smiled, satisfied that another day of good work was done, her tasks all checked neatly off her daily to-do list one by one, falling into line like synchronized swimmers. She even managed to knock a few things off her weekly to-do list, and the week had only just started.

Yes, things in her little world were neat and tidy, kept that way through meticulous organization and perseverance.

And a large part of that was thanks to Right to Love.

Matchmaking had been the family business — at least as her grandmother told it. But that was decades ago, and it wasn’t much of a stable career back on her home planet. So when she graduated from Coruscant University with a degree in Business Administration and a minor in Sociology of Humanoid Species, she directed her attention toward making her mark on the business world instead.

One corporate desk job and three stints with start ups so immature the CEOs should have been wearing diapers led Yen to her wits end. One would think the realm of business would be orderly but somehow the entire enterprise operated on chaos, caffeine and petty spite.

No wonder so many companies relied on the war for profits.

It disgusted her down to her core how many seemingly well-to-do firms were war profiteers, no matter the regulatory handwaving by the Senate to grant capitalist exceptions that protected them from that title. And did these companies at least benefit the citizens of the Republic? No, of course not. Not unless you were wealthy and wanted a new speeder.

Yen had been about to quit her fourth job in as many years, more willing to face poverty in the capital than work for those self-important assholes again when her grandmother reached out. Apparently, the matchmaking community was still small enough, and the endeavor of Right to Love so large, that word had reached her Mid-Rim planet.

“Just think about it, love. You were a wonderful apprentice here, and it could be a way to continue our work. I know you have your fancy office job, but do consider this? At least for me?”

At that point, there really wasn’t much for Yen to consider other than how to best update her resume. Once she got the job, the rest of her post-grad life fell into place — she had a decent apartment, a job she enjoyed, and even made friends in the office.

Most importantly, in the six months since, she was proud to have matched ten happy couples.

It wasn’t a numbers game; more a critical analysis. A breakdown of information cleaned from clean profiles and messy interviews to put together a picture of a whole person — not just the wants they admit to, but the flaws and quirks they don’t — in order to pair them with a compatible match.

And Yen was quite good at it.

At least, that’s what her spotless record attested to. Despite not having the same amount of experience as some of her colleagues, Yen had been able to find each one a match they were happy with and currently dating.

One client was so impressed, he’d asked for some … additional help in getting another clone trooper comfortable with the process. Yen typically didn’t get so personally involved — it was hard to stay clear headed and objective if clients became friends. However, Captain Rex’s normally even tone had a hint of something … unsettled in it when he called earlier.

Clearly, her assistance was needed, and if it meant the captain would continue recruiting for her and spreading the word among his brothers of her expertise, then tonight’s small exception would be worth it.

With one last look confirming everything was in its place, Yen locked up and made her way across the city to an intimate little café. Her choice of location, one she knew would be welcoming to the men, but off the beaten path and quiet enough to allow a private conversation.

The journey wasn’t long, but she was late. Captain Rex was sitting at a table outside, facing her, dressed down in “civilian” attire. Yen was glad to see the deep bags under his eyes seemed a little brighter. In fact, his whole person seemed more relaxed, relieved. She tried to silence the small part of her that felt a little proud that her matchmaking may have contributed to this change from the first time they met.

Opposite Rex sat another trooper, his back to Yen. That must be the reluctant brother.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” Yen said, as she came around the table to greet Rex first.

Ever the gentleman, the captain rose as Yen reached out her hand. ““Not reason to be sorry, we were early. It’s good to see you again, Yen.”

“Good to see you, too, Rex,” she said sincerely, squeezing the captain’s calloused hand before turning to the other trooper. Unlike Rex, he wore his casual fatigues. More striking than his choice to wear a uniform during off-hours was the intricate V-shaped tattoo that bisected his face. “And you must be the man Rex insisted I meet. I’m Yen Ori’ken.”

The trooper’s handshake was stiff and firm, and his eyes never once left hers. “Dogma, ma’am. And apologies. I told the Captain that this was unnecessary, but he pulled rank.”

Yen raised an eyebrow and leveled a look at Rex as she sat next to him. “Did he now?”

Rex raised his hands in surrender. “I just wanted the two of you to meet and have a conversation.”

“You can’t order someone to go see a matchmaker.”

“I didn’t. I gave Dogma the choice of desk duty for a month or one evening with good company and good conversation since he refuses to schedule his interview.”

“Oh, so your paperwork is done?” Yen asked, turning back to Dogma, who gave a small nod.

“Yes, ma’am. The Captain submitted it fifteen rotations ago through the holonet portal.”

Closing her eyes for just a moment, Yen held in a soul-deep sigh. She really should be used to the mental gymnastics clones employed to get their way. Even the commanding officers were guilty of it.

Sometimes they’re even worse, she thought, remembering Daria’s struggles with Commander Neyo. Taking a deep breath, Yen put her professional smile back on, softening it just a bit for the man across from her who sat straight and still as a board.

“Well, the good thing about being a civilian is that your captain can’t pull rank on me. This won’t work, it can’t work, if you don’t want it to. And I’m not looking to risk my record or reputation because one man is too afraid to tell his commanding officer to stay in line. So, Dogma, I leave the choice up to you.”

He looked at her like she was speaking Huttese. “Ma’am?”

“Yen, please,” she smiled softly. “Look, forget Rex for a second. Forget everything, in fact. Just take a moment to think about what you really want. Do you want to meet someone and have a partner in your life? Or do you want to continue as you are?”

The silence that settled wasn’t tense, but it weighed on the trio. Dogma looked down to the tabletop as if it held the answers he was looking for. He looked almost lost at her most simple question.

 After a few more beats, he finally looked up. His body was still rigid, but now there was a softness in his eyes as he met hers again.

“I think I’d like to try. For a partner, that is. My brothers … they all look so happy when we’re on planet now.” Dogma paused, like he was trying to find the right words but then the softness drained from his eyes again. “But I’m not leaving the 501st.”

It took all her strength to keep a satisfied smile off her face, but Yen could see from the corner of her eye that Rex didn’t exercise the same control.

“No one is asking you to,” she said. “Plenty of troopers are still enlisted. And obviously your legion still spends a bit of time off planet and that hasn’t been a problem for their partners. That’s where I come in. I’ll take what I know of you and find someone complimentary in our system.”

At that, Yen reached into her purse to pull out a small datapad and stylus.

“Naturally, that means I’ll need you to be completely honest with me. Lying to me means lying to a potential partner, and that does not end well. Further, while my record speaks for itself, I am not actually a miracle worker. You may go on dates that don’t end in a relationship. You may even have bad dates. Please don’t think of these as failures. They are opportunities for me to refine my parameters and try again. Understand?”

Dogma nodded, but his face had lost some color at the mention of failed dates. It was a risk to mention, especially with a nervous client. But one thing Yen had come to realize about clone troopers is their uniform preference to have all the data and face new situations as prepared as possible.

Still, it was disconcerting that Dogma’s mouth kept opening and closing like a fish trying to breathe on dry land.

“Are you okay, Dogma?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It had left his mouth before she even finished her question.

“Strike one,” Yen said, brandishing her stylus in admonishment. “I said I expect complete honesty. Don’t lie to me again, trooper.”

Dogma’s eyes narrowed at her, nose crinkling slightly. “I didn’t lie, ma’am.”

“Dogma.” Rex’s tone was nothing like Yen had heard before. Must be his captain voice. It worked instantly and had his subordinate leaning back into his seat.

“Fine,” he spat. “I am intimidated by the idea of a date. My experience is limited and I have no training.”

Yen nodded. “Many of your brothers were — and are — in the same boat. And us natborns aren’t really trained in this, either.” She offered another small smile, relieved to see Dogma’s durasteel spine start to soften. She waited for him to relax a little further into his seat before continuing. “We’re all just winging it and trying our best. Some are just better at hiding their nerves.”

Dogma looked unwilling to accept the revelation, but when Yen met his eyes hoping to convey her sincerity, he stared back like he was holding onto a lifeline.

Opening up to civilian life, accepting change and chaos into their worlds that, while dangerous, had been so orderly, was a challenge for many troopers. Nothing unusual or unfamiliar for her to navigate. And yet, Yen couldn’t help but feel that something deeper was at play.

Well, the only way to solve that mystery is to dive right in.

Sitting back with her datapad at the ready, Yen let herself slip fully into work mode. “Are you alright with a few questions to start?”

Despite the rocky start, Dogma was impressively forthwith and thorough in his interview answers, sparing not even the less flattering truths about his personality and habits. Unlike other troopers, he didn’t withhold any information, even about his arrest for killing the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

That bit of information certainly caught Yen’s attention, though she fought to keep her surprise off her face. Everything about Dogma screamed regimented order. The thought that the man in front of her could have not only defied orders but turned against a commanding officer was almost unthinkable.

All that to keep his brothers safe.

The curl of Dogma’s fists into the tablecloth was the only physical clue he gave as to how much the incident still impacted him, prompting Yen to mark patience as a necessity in his potential matches.

As the trio ordered and their food arrived, Yen’s questioning became less formal, allowing Rex to hop in with commentary and anecdotes of his trooper, as well as a few stories that brought a tint to Dogma’s copper cheeks and she couldn’t hold back a teasing smile as the trooper turned the tables on his captain, playfully exposing how awkward Rex had apparently been leading up to his first date.

As the night progressed, Yen found she was enjoying herself more than she had in a while, the banter between them flowing naturally.

She had a good feeling about this client. And as she went home that night, she felt in her gut she would find a match worthy of such an exemplary soldier.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was lucky she so often neglected physical exercise. Because just a little more strength in her grip and Yen really believed she could break her datapad.

Six dates. Dogma had been on six dates in two weeks and not a single one had passed muster to earn a second date.

If it was a lack of chemistry or incompatibility, she could understand. But the man was a damn vault. Every time Yen attempted a post-event interview to get to the bottom of where her analysis went wrong, he stonewalled her.

It just didn’t work out.

No, I’d prefer not to give it another try.

I’d rather start over than continue with this match.

Between his past and his general hesitancy signing up for her services, she knew she had to tread carefully with him, though she could recognize that the first date she set up was optimistic. That match being particularly outgoing and outspoken. The hope had been that a bright, extroverted energy would compliment Dogma’s introverted and quiet nature.

And maybe she corrected too far with the second, a much more softspoken match, one who would let Dogma take the lead and set his own pace.

But the last four? All perfectly lovely women, who happened to be comfortable being paired with a man who was still enlisted and had personalities that seemed compatible with Dogma’s.

So no, short of them all talking about their exes or their expectations of marriage on a first date — which she didn’t think had happened but couldn’t confirm — Yen could not understand what had gone so horribly wrong.

And from the interviews conducted with the matches, she knew Dogma wasn’t the problem. Apparently, he was a delightful date, well-mannered and respectful. A few had mentioned that he seemed nervous and stiff, maybe not the most forthcoming with conversation, but that was pretty standard for some troopers. All five were in fact quite upset to find their date hadn’t gone as well as they thought and that another wasn’t in their future.

The most frustrating thing was, Yen believed it. From all her own interactions with the man, Dogma had proved to be a grounded, driven man who was reserved but kind. Definitely an academic mind, almost like an old soul, which she supposed was ironic considering he was a clone.

So while the trooper may not be everyone’s cup of tea, there was an enigmatic yet comforting aura to him that certainly had its own appeal.  

With nowhere to put the blame for the failures and no insight into what the heck was wrong, Yen was officially stuck. At this point, honestly, she didn’t even care if Dogma found a partner. Forget a relationship. She’d feel accomplished if he asked for someone’s comm frequency at this point.

Even worse was the backlog this fiasco was causing. Checking her to-do list was something that previously gave Yen a sense of focus and direction. Now, a sneer curled her nose and lips as she looked at the unchecked boxes that mocked her as her anxiety sparked.

“Oh, the scary face.” Daria leaned against the entrance to her office, raising her offering of iced caf. “So you do need an afternoon pick me up.”

“I never said I didn’t, just that I was too busy to leave.”

“Uh-huh.” Taking the seat across from her, Daria slid the drink to Yen. “Who’s pissing you off this time?”

Yen leveled a flat look at her friend.

“The 501st trooper? Again?”

Sucking down the biggest gulp of overly sweetened caffeine she could, Yen nodded. “Yup.”

“And he’s still being pigheaded about it?”

“Yes! It doesn’t make any sense! I’ve reviewed his application and interview answers at least four dozen times by this point! I know I’m setting him up with solid candidates and he refuses to give me one objective reason why he won’t consider any of them.”

She slid down in her seat that now felt too big to fill. “Maybe I’m just losing my touch …”

“No, no no no.” Daria pointed one finger right into Yen’s face, leaning across her desk to scold her properly. “We are not doing that ‘woe is me’ osik.”

“Osik?” Yen asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Bantha fodder.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t know you speak Mando’a.”

“Well, I do. Or I’m learning,” Daria explained, and if Yen didn’t know her friend so well, she may not have noticed the flustered way Daria’s fingers began fidgeting with the neatly lined styluses on the desk. “Regardless, we’re focusing on you. And what you need, my dear, is to go undercover.”

“Undercover?” she asked, her tone flat as a credit chip.

“Ok, not undercover. But you know what I mean. You need to see what’s happening firsthand.”

“Dar, please. Do not make me verbalize my refusal to go on a date with a client.”

With a roll of her eyes and a huff, Daria returned Yen’s attitude pound for pound. “Yen, please. Give me more credit than that. I’m not saying date him. I’m saying spend a little time with him so you can fill in the blanks. Think of it like field research.”

Yen leaned back in her chair, succumbing to her old habit of swiveling it aimlessly as she sipped her iced caf again. “Field research, huh?”

In the end, it really didn’t take long for her to consider Daria’s advice more seriously. As the workday drew to an end with still fewer tasks being resolved, Yen couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. She caved, and rather quickly, too, for her tastes.

It took everything in her to break her personal code and send the message to Dogma asking him to meet up. She could hear her grandmother’s voice, chastising her the entire time, bemoaning that good matchmakers do not get to know their clients on a personal level.

It was that unspoken and unrealized disappointment that ensured Yen clarified no less than three times that this outing was a solution — unconventional though it may be — that could help her better match him and most certainly not a toe beyond professional boundaries.

Fortunately, Dogma didn’t leave her agonizing in limbo long. His reply came promptly, agreeing to her terms and leaving the planning to her.

Perfect. I just need to get to the bottom of this conundrum, and I can get things back to normal.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dogma fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve for the fourth time in as many minutes, though the perfectly pressed seams were already sitting properly on his wrist.

He should have said no.

She was going to ask. Again. About why his dates keep ending in rejection. Why he hadn’t connected with any of the matches she set up for him.

She’s going to find out he lied.

Dogma had no kriffing idea what he wanted from a partner. He’d asked every brother he trusted when he found out Captain Rex was going to drag him to finally meet with the matchmaker they all kept praising. And those karking idiots couldn’t come up with a single answer.

It must be his curse, or the cosmic repercussions for his actions to be reassigned to the chaotic quagmire that is the 501st.

That’s what the Force was, right?

In the end, Kix was the only one to give him any sort of suitable advice. If you don’t feel a connection to your date, that’s ok. Just move on and try again.

The dates Yen set him up on were all lovely but … he just didn’t connect with them. He couldn’t.

Pouring salt in the wound was the way Yen would look at him with so much sincere kindness in her eyes after each disappointing evening. Looking at her like that, he couldn’t say the truth he knew deep down: he’s defective. He’s not meant for a partner. He’s barely meant for the battlefield now, but at least there he has his brothers to help him.

He wondered how long until she gave up on him, until she learned the truth.

The small seed of optimism that coaxed him into trusting the system around him still urged him to keep up hope. But that little voice had shrunk and grown quieter since Umbara. It didn’t matter that his brothers all agreed his actions were justified, or that he was considered a hero now. The betrayal was still there.

But not just Krell’s. His own haunted him just as much. Sometimes more.

Despite all the extenuating facts, Dogma still broke the ultimate rule, the foundation of a soldier’s code of honor: Trust in and listen to your commanding officer.

Even Captain Rex hadn’t been able to pull the trigger. But he had. And in his heart, he knew he didn’t shoot to protect anyone. The only thing he felt in that moment was rage … and pain. And he took that out on a prisoner of war.

Now, the guilt was what he operated on. He knew that it was preventing him from connecting with anyone. But how could he tell that to Rex, his brother who somehow still believed he deserved anything beyond the chance to make amends?

How could he tell that to Yen, to this civilian woman who owed him nothing but was clearly working her hardest to do right by him?

He couldn’t. So he didn’t. He went through the motions, and tonight he knew his lies would catch up with him. He hated the dread he felt, almost wishing it could be over now.

“I should have guessed you’d beat me here.”

Dogma hid his startled jump by turning at the sound of Yen’s voice, impressed she managed to get so close unnoticed. He must have been too far into his own thoughts.

She clearly came straight from work. Her dark hair pulled back and into a neat twist, leaving only her straight cut bangs out, cutting a military straight line across her forehead. Her outfit was simple but professional, all dark colors and gold accents perfectly tailored to her form, her bag tucked neatly under her arm. Everything about her was neat and orderly, as it was each time he saw her.

There was a small, pretty smile on her lips as she looked up at him expectantly.

It took him a beat too long to realize he never answered her.

“Just like to be punctual, ma’am.”

“Yen, please. And so do I, which is why I got here five minutes early. So now I’m wondering how early you got here.”

Her tone was light, playful, and yet Dogma still felt like he was facing a test no one had ever instructed him for.

“Sorry, ma- Yen, I mean,” he said, his arms automatically falling into an “at rest” position behind his back as she took the lead and began walking across the plaza, her eyes never leaving his. “I haven’t been waiting long,” he lied.

“No need to apologize. It’s kind of fun not being the one to wait for once,” she said, her smile widening. “So, as I said in my message, I’m a bit stuck in picking your next match and since our post-date interviews haven’t yielded any new information, I wanted to meet up and touch base.

“Of course, ma’am.” He gave a short nod and fought to hide his confusion as Yen’s smile fell from genuine to stale.

“I know you’re doing it out of respect, but I’d much prefer you call me by my name,” she said, her tone firm but not angry as far as he could tell. “I’m not your commanding officer. In fact, for tonight, it would be best if you think of me as a peer.”

“A peer?”

“Yes. I didn’t fully explain in my message, but this isn’t just to meet up. I wanted to see first-hand what a date with you is like. This way, I can have better insight when picking your next match. That can’t work if you keep treating me as a superior.”

A date?

It wasn’t real. It was just for professional purposes.

And yet Dogma couldn’t understand the rush that rose through him like a wave at the prospect of a date with Yen. Even a fake one. Out of all the civies he’d met — through Right to Love and in general — she was by far the easiest to talk to. The kindest, too. He kept all the soft smiles and the gentle encouragement she gave when he told her his story locked in his memory.

He always felt supported by his brothers. But the way she guided him that night was something he hadn’t experienced before or since.

“Is that okay?” she asked, looking as if she believed he would actually say no.

He had to remind himself that technically, it wouldn’t be out of bounds for him to refuse. And he ignored the incessant thought that said he should, that this couldn’t be regulation behavior. But she was offering, looking at him expectantly for an answer but unassuming beyond that.

Like a bolt, Dogma realized that’s what made him feel so secure around her. Yen expected nothing from him but himself. And she was the first person to do so.

He realized he liked that very much.

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Wonderful! I hope you like light shows. There’s one tonight in the plaza, set to a Pantoran opera. It isn’t too long, so I figured it would be perfect. Ready?”

Yen didn’t wait for an answer. She took his hand without another word and began pulling him through the crowd to the opposite end of the plaza.

That same wave of gentle support washed through him, just like when he spoke to her after each date, and he reveled in it. Nothing had ever soothed him like this. Even before Umbara, Dogma struggled with his anxious nature, retreating into the order and boundaries of the regulations to guide him. Nothing could go wrong if he was acting as he was supposed to.

Or so he thought. Umbara showed him how limited the regulations were, how confining. And worse, how fallible the structures of power could be to corruption. Without those pillars, his anxiety had grown worse.

His brothers helped where they could. Kix, Maker bless him, had researched medication and breathing techniques to help him in acute situations. Captain Rex was always patient with him. And while Jesse still kept a bit of distance, Fives’ exuberant friendship did wonders alleviating remnant guilt, even if he wanted to punch the ARC trooper more often than not.

But this? The feeling of Yen’s skin on his, the natural warmth that oozed out of her cut to his core, silencing the thoughts that came unbidden to plague his mind. She was a quiet power — neat, organized, controlled. And yet so damn soft as she forged ahead without worry. At least, none that he could see.

He wasn’t sure if she expected people to follow her or just became accustomed to it. Probably the latter. He couldn’t see her demanding anything. And yet, it was so natural to fall into step just behind her. More so than the captain, or even the marshal commander. He knew on that first night that he could trust her.

She would never lead him somewhere unsafe.

As the crowd grew thicker, Dogma lengthened his stride until he pulled up to Yen’s side. With only the barest of thoughts, his hand dropped hers to rest gently on her lower waist, pulling and pushing with as little pressure as possible to help ease her movement through the mass of people, his own body angled to take the brunt when bodies would collide with theirs.

Recognizing what he was doing, Yen pulled herself closer to him, throwing an appreciative smile at him before turning back to watch where she was going.

He never really had someone he could trust his battered heart to before, so being able to help her back, steer her through this crowd with her approval had notes of pride and satisfaction harmonizing with the now ingrained sense of calm.

There was something else, too. Something more foreign, but …

Oh.

Kix said to wait for a connection. Fives said he would just know. Dogma felt so stupid. Of course he wouldn’t just know.

But then again, maybe he did. Maybe deep down, he knew from that first meeting that Yen was someone special. And none of the matches she found could compare.

[whatevergreen]

The UK has yet another unelected head of state, a new and unelected prime minister and tory government, and is handing out $10s of BILLIONS to corporations (again). Meanwhile the literal majority of the population is going to be in poverty because of fuel and food bills by next year.

There're so many foodbanks that they're running out of food because fewer and fewer can spare/afford it.

Meanwhile the funeral for a dead billionaire queen who did nothing to help anyone is set to be the most expensive funeral in the history of the world.

Nearly 300,000 people are homeless in England alone.

The NHS (National Health Service) without which many would not be alive, is being killed by the government, for the benefit of the private sector.

The current unelected government is trying to take away free prescriptions for people over 60, most of whom are already struggling/dying because of energy and food bills.

The energy companies are making $100s of BILLIONS in profits while their charges soar. 100,000s of people will become ill or die because of this.

Public transport is an overpriced fiasco.

Small businesses are dropping like flies while bloated corporations continue spreading their tentacles.

Climate change is causing increasing devastation, yet this latest sham of a government overturned the fracking ban before the queen was even cold(er), and they want to go back on other commitments.

Covid infection and death rates have been at all-time highs for months, but you'd think everything was fine.

The bulk of the mainstream media is biased, corrupt, and increasingly resembles the output of North Korea, from a capitalist-monarchist-fascist slant.

Anti-monarchist protestors are being arrested. Though that hasn't stopped the very vocal protests in some places.

Another unarmed black man, Chris Kaba, is shot to death by the Met police, while racists fall over each other to defend this.

Meanwhile the UK's racist anti-immigration juggernaut continues, but that's okay because the Home Office has just been handed from one god-awful brown fascist and racism enabling woman politician to another (Patel to Braverman). Being a woman and not white (version 2) however means that there's nothing to see here, if you like artificial, token progress that's like a flowery throw rug over a rotting corpse.

Anyone with long term illness/disability continues to be persecuted - and let's not forget that the Tory governments capitalist response to covid just added over 2 million and counting people suffering from long covid.

If the UK - England in particular - was an animal, it would be put down for suspected rabies.