#employer matching contributions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpwintersoldier · 1 year

Text

『 do it for me, doll. pt.3 || bucky barnes x reader 』

pairing: pornstar!Bucky x f!reader words: medium summary: when life gets hard after the Avenger's disbandment Bucky has to find a new occupation, and you find it too.

『 part 1 』『 part 2 』

Getting on the plane to New York had your legs jittery and butterflies in your stomach. You couldn't stop smiling, you felt like a teenage girl giggling about your crush. Except it was just about the opposite.

Your coworkers found it odd, that you were so happy and couldn't wait for a work related trip, but they just guessed you enjoyed travelling. Little did they know, company awaited you on the other side.

You'd only meet Bucky on your third day in New York, since you were busy the other two days, but you might as well have met him outside of the airport, because your mind was clouded with thoughts of him and what you'd do when you first saw each other. Your body felt like it was burning in every place you wanted him to touch you.

You hurried to call a cab, and once you were in the hotel you didn't bother to unpack or get comfortable, you just grabbed your phone to text Bucky (whom had obviously given you his number since scheduling a meetup via livestream chat was not ideal or practical).

You: I'm in NYC 😎

Bucky: you sure we can't see each other like... now? I want you so bad

(Picture attached)

The picture was of him, lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, that were riding dangerously low on his waist.

You bit your lip, and for a second considered ditching your professional responsibilities for a good great fuck. But eventually decided against it.

You: Sorry Sergeant, duty calls, I'll see you the day after tomorrow

Bucky: you know I'll punish you for making me wait, right?

You: I do... and I can't wait.

You had no idea where your recent surge of confidence had come from (you suspected it was from all of Bucky's compliments and encouragement), but this new you was capable of saying just about anything that went through your mind.

To say you were unproductive and absolutely useless during your meetings was the understatement of the century. You were so distracted, excited and giddy by the thought of Bucky that you ended up contributing nothing to the work you were actually supposed to do. Your coworkers, however (bless them) just pinned it in nervousness for being in front of the higher-ups and covered for you.

When the day came you felt all sorts of emotions and skipped all of the coffees you'd usually have throughout the day as the added caffeine would only make it worse. A lot worse.

The workday itself was light, you only worked during the morning since your employers had meetings in the afternoon.

Come 1PM, you ate hurriedly and started to get ready, as if 6 hours wasn't enough time. You showered, did your hair and makeup (nice and heavy on the mascara so he'd have enough to mess up), lathered yourself in the nicest vanilla body lotion you had ever smelled, and got dressed.

You went all out for the meetup, even going as far as buying new lingerie for the occasion, but the man deserved it, he was cooking you dinner and serving all types of meat after all.

The set you purchased was baby pink. It was a hard cup lacy bra, that pushed up your tits in a beautiful way, with a small ribbon in between the cups. The panties were matching the top, and the back had a cut-out heart giving a perfect view of your ass. The set wouldn't be complete without the matching garter belt that connected to a sheer, white pair of tights.

You looked like a dream.

You put on a fancy outfit and gave yourself one last look in the mirror, touching up your makeup and hair, before texting Bucky.

You: I'm ready, will you make me wait till the time comes as a punishment?

Bucky: making you wait to come over would only be a punishment to me. Come one over.

Bucky shared his location.

You giggled and called an Uber to his location, sending a picture as soon as you got in the car to let him know you were on your way.

Bucky was just as giddy and nervous as you were, and he didn't know how long he'd be able to keep his hands off of you. Despite what might've been a popular belief, he didn't fuck a lot, he just happened to undress on camera.

About 15 minutes went by and Bucky was just adding the finishing touches to the dinner table when he heard your footsteps approach the door.

Ding dong.

You both took a deep breath, and the door opened.

"Y/N! Hi!"

Mesmerizing. That was the only way to describe Bucky Barnes. He smiled at you as if you weren't both thinking of the sinful things you were to do to each other.

"Nice to finally see you in person!" You said, greeting him with a hug.

He guided you inside his house - it was very minimalist, nothing but the absolutely necessary inside.

"I'm not big on decorations." Bucky said with a chuckle, as he saw you look around "But I do have beautiful chains hanging on my bedroom walls." He whispered in your ear, as an arm sneaked around your figure.

You shivered, looking over your shoulder at the man that was standing dangerously close to you. Your lips missed each other by mere milimeters, and the sexual tension was clearly palpable.

Bucky brushed his lips over yours for a split second, before completely pulling away and taking you to the kitchen. What a tease.

Bucky was a true gentleman, pulled directly from those 1940's stereotypes. He pulled out the chair for you and served your food and the champagne he had prepared.

"I hope you like it. If you don't there's a great chinese place nearby." He half-joked, since he was actually a little scared you wouldn't like the meal.

But his worries washed away when he saw your face as you took the first bite of the meal.

"Wow! This is amazing!" You complimented.

You saw his cheeks go a little red at the compliment and he smiled widely.

"Yeah? Thank you."

You'd think all of the compliments he got during streams would've made him more used to hearing them, but he still got very shy.

"Hopefully it won't be the best thing of the night..." You said suggestively, sending a wink his way.

Bucky's face instantly changed, into a look of lust and desire.

"Oh princess, this is nothing compared to what I have prepared." He winked at you, bringing the champagne glass to his lips.

The conversation flowed naturally during the dinner, which was a relief. Both of you had a secret worry in the back of your minds that you'd have no chemistry aside from the sexual attraction, but as time passed the worry faded completely.

When dinner was done, Bucky took a hold of your hand and guided you to his living room, bringing the champagne along with you. You sat down on the couch.

"You know Bucky, I'm surprised..."

Bucky rose an eyebrow at you.

"Hm? Surprised?"

"Yes," you paused, trailing your hand up his thigh "after the stunt you pulled when I came in the door I didn't think you'd last this long without doing... something."

Bucky's bionic arm gripped your wrist, just as your hand was getting to his crotch.

"Oh princess you have no idea how much I've been holding back."

The Soldier pulled you a little closer as he said that.

"Why hold back?" You whispered, as he was just so close.

"Because if I don't I won't be able to hold, back." Bucky responded, one of his hands making it's way to your cheek.

"Then don't hold back."

Those words were almost like a command for Bucky. He borught your face closer to his and kissed you, Your lips fit perfectly together, and all you both could think was "finally".

There was need and desperation in the kiss, and it was as if you were afraid to let go, as if you'd falter if you pulled away.

Bucky's vibranium arm wrapped around your figure, and brought you to his lap. His hips rolled up agains yours, as his tongue entered your mouth once more and his hands gripped your ass - you felt pleasantly overwhelmed, your mind had no idea what to focus on.

You could feel his boner against your core, and moaned at the feeling.

Bucky's hands settled on your ass and he stood up, taking you to what you assumed was his bedroom. He then laid you on the bed, standing up for a second to take of his shirt and pants.

As he worked on his clothes, you worked on yours. You removed your top and undid your zipper, so Bucky could pull down your pants and dispose of them. After he did so, he stood back, admiring your body in the pretty lingerie.

He smirked, chuckled and brushed back his semi-long hair, before climbing on top of you and pampering your chest and neck with sloppy kisses.

"You'll be the fucking death of me, doll." Bucky told you, snapping the waistband of your panties against the skin of your hip.

Your hand tangled on his hair as he marked your skin, while his hand sneaked inside your pretty underwear to find your clit.

"Oh Bucky- fuck."

The man kissed your neck, then your jaw and then your cheek.

"You sound even more beautiful in person." He said, before catching your lips in a quick kiss.

Bucky wanted to grab that pretty bra of yours and rip it out, but it was far too pretty, so his hand reached around your back and unclasped it, then peeling it off your body.

"Shit..." He groaned under his breath.

The man's lips attached to one of your nipples, as the other hand sneakily pushed your panties to the side, so he could enter you.

"This wet? Just for me? Wow I must be really good." Bucky joked, biting your breast and then kissing down your stomach.

"May... Maybe." You said, unable to sneak in a snarky reply when his tongue met your clit.

Bucky was holding your waist down with his free hand, as you couldn't help but writhe under his touch.

"Shit if you keep that up I'm not gonna last long." You said, between moans and whines.

"Then don't last long. Cum on my tongue doll, I wanna see how pretty you look up close."

Bucky curled his fingers inside of you and uncurled, picking up the pace he fingered you it. Soon after you were cumming with a loud cry of incoherent words that were meant to be "fuck Bucky, you're so good".

When your breath was steady, he came up to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. Hot.

In a sudden act of bravery, you wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped you over, then kneeling in between his legs.

"What are we doing now doll?" He asked, with a look of amusement on his face.

You hooked your finger on the waistband of his tight boxers and pulled them down, letting his erection spring free. His cock did look bigger in person.

"Repaying the favour."

Before he could reply, you licked a strip along his shaft, before sucking his tip. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, slowly taking more and more of him.

"Oh... fuck." He groaned and made a makeshift ponytail out of your hair, so he could watch the way his cock disappeared in your mouth.

Your hand added to the movement, and when you looked up, your teary eyes meeting his, he nearly came in your mouth.

"That's it." Bucky said, before tugging on your hair and pulling your mouth away from his cock.

Before you could register what was happening, Bucky had you on the bed with your ass up and face in the matress. He took your wrists and held them together behind your back.

Soon after, his tip found your entrance and he slipped in slowly, taking in the moment he finally got to fill you.

"Oh fuck, you feel so good doll." His compliment almost went unheard, as you were too focused on how good it felt to have him fuck you.

His hand spanked your ass and then grabbed it, loving the way it bounced when he fucked you.

As Bucky picked up the pace, your moans became more frequent and louder, making it insanely hard for him not to cum.

"Fuck it." He said, and paused, before flipping you around and entering you again "I wanna see your pretty little face when you cum on my cock, you're going to look so beautiful, all fucked out for me."

His hand wrapped around your throat as he said those words, and you swore your vision went blurry with pleasure.

"You f-feel so good Bucky- shit! Fuck!" You screamed, as he seemed to go deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It wasn't long before pleasure-filled tears streamed down your face, and your hands gripped the sheets. Your climax hit you harder than any before, and you cried out the man's name.

Bucky didn't even get time to ride out your orgasm, he simpy pulled out and came on you. All over your stomach and tits.

The man fell beside you on the bed, as you both tried to regain your breaths. After a couple seconds, you looked at each other, instantly feeling shy as if you hadn't fucked the shit out of each other.

You noticed the way his eyes drifted to your neck, and you softly ran your fingers across it.

"I'm going to have to wear a scarf tomorrow, aren't I?"

Bucky smiled and laughed.

"That would probably be best, yes." He joked, meeting your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to his side, not caring if his cum stuck between your bodies, and lifted your chin up to kiss you.

"Join me. Let's film this, at least once. Please?"

"I'll think about it."

[TAGLIST]

@strndedonmars ; @geeky-politics-46 ; @high-functioning-lokipath ; @erinallene ; @yvessaintmuerte ; @kandis-mom ; @cjand10 ; @sadboiabby ; @sebastians-love ; @princezzjasmine ; @witchywonderlandchaos ; @buckysfirstbitch ; @itjustkindahappenedreally ; @strndedonmars ; @florencediet ; @mdrovert ; @barnescamboy ; @winters1917 ; @yvessaintmuerte ; @pattiemac1 ;

537 notes · View notes

andypantsx3 · 1 year

Text

Deceiving the Duke | 8 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 2.9k of 30k words | 8th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

The Utsushimis were quiet the entire carriage ride home.

It wasn’t until you were through the doorway of their townhome that Mrs. Utsushimi seemed to snap, grabbing your hair and marching you up the stairs towards your attic bedroom.

“What were you thinking, you wretched girl!” she cried, her voice shrill in your ear.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fight her off, knowing as she did that you had just ruined the family once and for all.

“I permitted this acquaintance with Lord Todoroki long enough, thinking you might turn his attentions to Caroline!” she shouted. “And this is what you’ve been doing instead? This is your contribution to preventing scandal?”

“Mama–” Caroline’s voice interrupted. You could just barely hear the worried pad of her slippers over Mrs. Utsushimi’s angry stomps.

“To your room, Caroline, I will speak with you later!” Mrs. Utsushimi said as the pair of you turned the corner to your tiny room.

She shoved you forward, and you stumbled, catching yourself over the bed frame.

“Mrs. Utsushimi, I’ll think of some way to fix it–” you said, but Mrs. Utsushimi shouted over you.

“Pack your things, you little harlot! You have until morning to disappear. You will not be receiving any of your wages, and if you dare seek employment with Camie, so help me I will end you myself!” she bellowed.

She grabbed the door handle and slammed it closed with a strength you’d never known she possessed–rattling the wall and sending a puff of dust into the air from the rafters. You heard her stomp back down the stairs, and heard another door slam on the floor below. And then it was quiet—deafeningly quiet.

A sudden sob welled up in your throat, surprising you with its force. You sank onto your bed helplessly, breath coming in short little hiccups.

What had you done?

How could you have forgotten yourself so foolishly? How could you have lost sight of your objective, this close to the finish line?

It wasn’t enough that you’d had a duty to the family, either. And a duty to your parents, to send back money. But you’d also had a duty to Shouto–Lord Shouto, that was–god, how could you have ever addressed him as Shouto?–to uphold your respective positions in society.

And yet you’d let him go right to your head, like the bubbly fizz of champagne. He was so kind and good and utterly beautiful, inside and out. You’d been overwhelmed by him–but that was no excuse.

He was too honorable. And he would suffer for it. You’d trapped him in matrimony to a woman who was already married.

And he had to be made aware, so he could call off the wedding.

You could disappear–let him find out weeks from now, when the news of the real Camie’s elopement was sure to break, save yourself the face in the process. It might be the only way that Caroline could still have her wedding to Mr. Awase, if he wasn’t too scandalized by the idea of a runaway sister.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let it happen that way.

You had betrayed Lord Shouto–and you needed to be the one to close this ridiculous sham out.

You would tell him.

You spent the next few minutes packing your things into your small valise, the one you’d come to the Utsushimi’s doorstep with all those years ago as a wide-eyed teenager. You shed Camie’s fine gown and Caroline’s pretty paste jewels, her silk flower she’d lent you. You folded them all and put them on the bedside and changed into the dress of your station, feeling the loss a little too keenly.

It was disappointing, how much you’d come to like living as a gentlewoman, when you’d known all along you could never have that.

You took Lord Shouto’s calling cards out from under your mattress, where you’d squirreled them away like the lovelorn little rat you were–and noted his address. It was still an early hour, far too early to see him–but this was urgent, and it would take you some hours to cross the city on foot, to the fashionable part where the Todoroki family kept a series of townhomes.

You crept down the stairs quietly, and let yourself out into the night, and began the long trek to Lord Shouto’s.

The early-morning air was cool and damp, and it helped you clear your head. As you walked, you rehearsed all of the things you wanted to say to him, determinedly pushing down the sick feeling that rose like bile in your throat.

The sun was just barely rising, a deep red tinge at the edge of the sky, when you found the placard indicating Lord Shouto’s address.

There was a light at one of the windows on the second floor, the flickering glow of a candle. You wondered if it was Lord Shouto’s room–if he would be awake at this hour, still, unable to stomach the thought of the marriage trap you’d sprung on him.

Well, you would soon put him out of his misery.

With your heart hammering in your mouth, you knocked on the door.

For a long while there was silence, and then a manservant opened the door, looking down at you with a dour expression.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’m here to see Lord Shouto,” you said.

The manservant looked over your shoulder and squinted, as if a proper chaperone might manifest behind you–but then his eyes seemed to catch on your dress. Not a proper gentlewoman–just a woman.

“What business have you with His Grace at this early hour?” he asked suspiciously.

You opened your mouth, wondering how exactly you might explain it, when a familiar head of red and white hair poked over the man’s shoulder.

“Lord Shouto!” you said, equal parts relieved and horrified to see him.

He looked rumpled, but still wore those dark shirtsleeves and waistcoat, as if he had not yet gone to bed. Those mismatched eyes found yours, and a curious expression came over his handsome face.

“Tell me you did not walk here on your own?” he said, something strangely hard in his voice.

You wondered how angry he must be with you, for it to show in his voice.

“I did. But please, Your Grace. I have some things you need to hear, it should only be a moment,” you said.

Lord Shouto gestured the manservant aside, and offered you his hand, helping you up the last step though you did not need it. You accepted, wondering if this was to be the last time you would get to touch him.

“My study should be best,” he said, and led you down a long, winding hall, to a room at the back of the house where a candle was still glowing on a desk. It was large, and would have been intimidating were it not filled with squashy, comfortable looking furniture and stuffed with all manner of books. There were tens of shelves of them, and even more were piled up around the room in teetering towers.

Lord Shouto’s desk was absolutely carpeted in papers, and your hands itched to tidy them.

Once you were inside, Lord Shouto closed the door behind you. You took a deep, steadying breath–and then–

“You should not have come alone. The streets are dangerous at night,” he said.

You turned, to look into his face. “My lord, I treasure your concern. However, you’ll want to hear–”

“The Utsushimis let you come alone?” he repeated, looking as though he couldn’t stomach the thought. His care warmed something inside you, but you knew you could not let him persist in his delusion that you were a gentlewoman. There was nothing wrong with a servant walking the streets alone.

You gathered yourself up.

“I am not Camie Utsushimi,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s eyes darted up to yours, and he paused. His brow raised slowly, but his expression did not change otherwise. The flickering light of the candle cast fluttering shadows over his face, dancing in the hollows of his cheeks, smudging under the dark line of his thick lashes.

He did not offer a reply, and you stood in an awkward silence, until you realized he meant for you to explain further.

“I–my lord, I never meant…I did not think…” you fumbled, until your eyes flashed up to his face again, handsome and solemn. And you realized he deserved the truth, not your excuses.

“No, regardless of what I meant or why I did it,” you tried again. “I have deceived you. I am not Camie Utsushimi. I am not even a gentlewoman. I am called Y/N, and I was a servant in the Utsushimis’ home until this morning.”

Lord Shouto watched you still, saying nothing, and so you continued.

“Camie Utsushimi eloped days before the opening of the season, to Lord Inasa Yoarashi. They are honeymooning now, but she will return to Musutafu soon enough, and our plot will be revealed. I wanted…” you cast your eyes down, unable to look at his face. “I wanted you to find out from me. I wanted to give you the opportunity to announce you are calling off the marriage, before you are caught up in the scandal too.”

You drew in a shivering breath. “I am sorry.”

For a long moment, Lord Shouto said nothing. You could not imagine what he was thinking, how he might even begin to respond to something like this.

After several minutes of silence, he finally moved. There was the soft tread of his boots across the floor. You stayed frozen, unable to anticipate what he was doing. His index finger curled gently under your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You think I did not know,” he said.

Your mouth opened in shock.

He–what? He knew?

“You–? How could you know?” you asked, when you were finally able to gather the trappings of language back to you. “My lord, what do you mean–?”

“The way you behaved, from our first meeting,” Lord Shouto said in his deep tone. “I suspected you were either a very uneducated debutante–quite at odds with Miss Caroline–or a pretender. And then, when I called on you–you answered the door as a servant would. The Utsushimis’ sitting room was barren of any portrait of you, but had plenty of Caroline and another girl who looks just like her–who I am assuming must be the real Camie.”

Fuck! So he had seen something then!

His fingers burned on your skin, and you were all too aware of his touch when you swallowed nervously. Horror and embarrassment burned hot across your skin, igniting your cheeks.

“My lord, I can only apologize and promise that you will never have to see me again,” you said, fighting down the sudden hot sting of tears behind your eyelids. “You were kinder to me than I deserved, and I–-if I had known how good you were, I should have never done it.”

“And if I want to see you again?” Lord Shouto asked carefully.

You glanced up at him, cringing when a tear escaped you in your surprise. “Lord Shouto, please. Do not continue to be kinder to me than I deserve. I will not ever be able to work again in Musutafu, besides.”

Lord Shouto’s thumb came up, and brushed your tear away. You froze, a cocktail of confused emotion burbling up inside you.

“Tell me why you did it,” Lord Shouto said softly. You stared up into those mismatched eyes, watched his long, shadowy lashes fall over his perfect cheekbones when he blinked.

You did not want to say it. But…

“For money, my lord,” you said, hating the way honesty tasted in your mouth. “I send a stipend back to my family. The Utsushimis promised steady wages and a bonus, and future employment with Camie and Lord Inasa when we were discovered. I would have money for my family, and get to see my friend again. And I–”

You took a shuddering breath in, embarrassed with just how open your emotions must be to Lord Shouto. “I did not think I would befriend anyone. I did not know there was anyone like you, or Miss Uraraka, or Lady Asui. I thought all the gentry ridiculous and overweening. Stupidly, I did not understand that it would be so easy to become close–that I would directly affect anyone…”

You had to stop, then, clamping down on a fresh wave of tears. You would not cry in front of Lord Shouto–not when you were at fault here.

Lord Shouto watched you silently, for a long time, your face still held in his grip. You just watched him helplessly, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Eventually, he spoke, his thumb sliding absently across your cheek, again. “Will you come with me?” he asked.

Your brows knit. “Come with you–? To…where, my lord?”

“To the palace,” he said. “To meet Her Highness, Princess Momo.”

All the blood in your veins iced over, and you could feel your body drawn into itself defensively, your hands curling into fists at your side.

There could be nothing good for a deceitful maid at the palace. Nothing good in meeting Princess Momo, especially if he planned to tell her what you’d done.

But…perhaps that was exactly it.

Perhaps Lord Shouto meant to let her pass judgment on your crimes against him. To deliver her royal justice upon you. He was rumored to be her impending fiancee–and there had to be a price to pay, for attempting to entrap the future prince of the empire in a marriage scheme that might have disrupted their union.

Fear and apprehension prickled up your spine. Your gut churned in great heaving turns, and you felt like you might be sick.

But you had come to set things right, hadn’t you? You had come to do the right thing by Lord Shouto, when you could have just as easily fled the city.

You could…No, you would see this through.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I will.”

Lord Shouto’s hand finally dropped from your chin, and he bade you wait a moment. He stepped over to his desk and scribbled something down on a bit of parchment, and then sealed it and stepped out into the hall. You heard him conduct a brief conversation with a manservant, and then he ducked back in to tell you he wouldn’t be a moment.

You nodded, afraid of what you’d sound like if you spoke. When the door closed behind him, you let the shivers come over you, gripping Lord Shouto’s desk against a sudden bout of lightheadedness.

You briefly considered running, turning and contemplating your valise where you’d deposited it next to the door.

But suddenly all the fight had left you.

If this is truly what Lord Shouto wanted, then you owed him this much, didn’t you?

When he returned, he’d changed into something decidedly less rumpled and considerably more appropriate for an audience with royalty. You felt conspicuous in your graying maid’s garb, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Lord Shouto led you outside, where a carriage had already been arranged, and he surprised you by handing you up into the carriage as though you were any sort of a proper lady. Your face went hot, despite the cool prickle of apprehension that had settled into your bones.

He settled in across from you, those mismatched eyes blisteringly hot on your skin.

And then, with a final word from him, the carriage rattled off towards the palace, the wheels clattering over the cobblestones in the early morning quiet.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto todoroki x reader

409 notes · View notes

regexkind · 1 month

Text

Looking for gigs where you draw pornography and your employer will match contributions to your 401(k)

30 notes · View notes

bitchesgetriches · 3 days

Note

What are some not-bank-breaking benefits you can ask an employer for? I have a good shot at a good job, but as a VERY small business, it pays less than I was hoping for. It's still more than my current situation of self-employed, and they already have offered pretty decent benefits on the form of PTO and medical/ dental/ vision. Plus, I'd be working with an owner/ manager I already know is smart and open minded. (WFH is meh for me, as it's a modest commute and a place away from distractions of the home.) I was thinking a very modest pay bump to match another job I interviewed for (but have not yet heard back from), or a slightly lower contribution to my medical. Anything else you suggest that says "I'm interested, but you are below my preferred rate"?

We have just the thing, babycakes! Here's our guide to asking for stuff other than a salary increase (though you should still absolutely ask for that no matter the size of the company) and a couple more resources for your situation:

If Your Employer Refuses To Negotiate Salary, Try These 11 Creative Counteroffers

Workplace Benefits and Other Cool Side Effects of Employment

You Really Need to Ask for a Raise. Here's How.

Did we just help you out? Join our Patreon!

#negotiating #career advice #job interview #salary offer

30 notes · View notes

bodyswappertransforming · 5 months

Text

Elias the time, traveler, A stable boy

A New Era, A New Life

After leaving the opulence of 17th-century French royalty behind, Elias decided his next adventure would be vastly different, both in time and station. He set his coordinates for 12th-century England, a time of feudalism and burgeoning towns, far removed from the intrigues of a royal court. This time, Elias would immerse himself in the life of a young stableman—a role that promised a simpler existence but no less rich in experience and learning.

Arrival in 12th-Century England

Elias's time machine materialized in the dense woodlands near a bustling medieval village. The air was filled with the sounds of life—chickens clucking, the distant clang of a blacksmith’s hammer, and the murmur of peasant folk. Stepping out, Elias felt the cold, crisp air, smelling of earth and wood smoke, welcoming him to his new life.

Physical Transformation

Initiating his transformation, Elias concentrated, feeling his body shift to adapt to his new role. His skin roughened, exposed to the elements of a harder life; his frame grew more muscular, suitable for the physical labor he was to undertake. His hair darkened to a muddy brown, cropped short for practicality. Examining his reflection in a nearby stream, he saw a young man of sturdy build with calloused hands, dressed in simple, rough-spun woolen clothes—so different from the silk and velvet of his previous life.

Admiring His New Voice and Body

Speaking softly, Elias tested his new voice; it was deeper, with a rustic accent that perfectly matched his guise as a stableman. He moved, feeling the strength in his limbs and the resilience of his body, built to endure long hours of toil. His clothes were plain—a tunic and breeches, much coarser than he was accustomed to, and heavy boots suited for muck and mud. Each movement reminded him of his new identity, a far cry from the refined aristocrat he had once been.

Accepting His New Life

Walking into the village, Elias was greeted with curious glances. He introduced himself as Eli, a stable hand looking for work. Quickly, he found employment at a local inn that boasted a busy stable. His days became filled with the rhythmic tasks of grooming horses, mucking out stalls, and hauling feed. The physical labor was grounding, and he found a simple pleasure in the tangible results of his work.

Evening brought him to the communal life of the peasants. He shared meals of hearty stew and coarse bread with fellow servants and laborers. Stories and songs were exchanged by firelight, and Elias contributed tales of distant lands, careful to disguise their true origins as the stuff of legends told to him in his supposed wanderings.

Reflections of a Time Traveler

As days turned to weeks, Elias found a rhythm in the simplicity of his life. The hard work and the camaraderie of common folk provided a stark contrast to his previous existence. He observed their struggles and joys, learning the values of community and resilience.

Though his stay in the 12th century would not be permanent, Elias knew that this chapter would greatly enrich his understanding of human history and spirit. Each day spent as a stableman taught him more about the strength and endurance of those far removed from the trappings of power—a lesson as valuable as any learned in the courts of kings.

After a few months immersed in the life of a 12th-century stableman, Elias, now known as Eli, began to learn and appreciate several fundamental aspects of medieval peasant life, each offering insights into the human condition and the natural world.

The Value of Community

Eli quickly realized the importance of community in medieval life. Unlike the competitive atmosphere of the royal court, the village thrived on cooperation and mutual support. Neighbors relied on one another for help during harvests, in building projects, and in times of need. This close-knit community fostered a sense of belonging and responsibility, something Elias found both humbling and enriching.

The Rhythms of Nature

Living close to the land, Elias became deeply attuned to the rhythms of nature. He learned to read the signs of the seasons, understanding when to plant and when to harvest by observing the changes in the environment. The knowledge that the villagers held about their natural surroundings was detailed and practical, born of generations’ experience and passed down orally—a stark contrast to the technological methods of his home galaxy.

Physical Labor and Resilience

The daily physical labor of a stableman was taxing but also grounding. Elias gained a new appreciation for the resilience of the human body and spirit. The strenuous work lent a tangible sense of accomplishment at the end of each day, something that was different from the intellectual and political achievements of his previous lives. This labor also highlighted the stark realities of class and privilege, teaching Elias about the endurance and dignity found in those who toil.

Folk Beliefs and Superstitions

Elias was fascinated by the rich tapestry of folk beliefs and superstitions that permeated village life. These beliefs, whether they related to warding off evil spirits or ensuring a good harvest, were integral to the community’s understanding of the world. He observed rituals and listened to stories that explained natural phenomena and human behavior in magical terms, providing a cultural context vastly different from the scientific understanding he was accustomed to.

Skills and Crafts

Living as a stableman also allowed Elias to learn various practical skills and crafts. He became proficient in horse care, learning to groom, feed, and treat common ailments of horses. Additionally, he picked up basic blacksmithing and carpentry skills, which were essential for maintaining the stable and equipment. These hands-on skills were a departure from the more cerebral and technological skills of his native culture.

The Human Spirit

Perhaps most importantly, Elias learned about the resilience and adaptability of the human spirit. Despite the hardships of daily life, the villagers showed great capacity for joy and celebration. Their lives, while hard, were also filled with moments of happiness, community gatherings, and celebrations that marked the passage of time and important events. This aspect of human life, resilient in the face of adversity, added a rich layer to his understanding of humanity.

29 notes · View notes

rainofaugustsith · 1 year

Text

I've been seeing articles lately talking about the plummeting birth rates in some countries. Some places are finally starting to acknowledge the employment and socio-economic issues that can contribute to people not having kids.

But - I think we also need to acknowledge that for some of us it's not about money, it's not about logistics, we just don't want kids. Flat out don't. Want. Them. Don't think we'd be good parents. Don't want to be parents whether we'd be good at it or not.

That doesn't mean everyone hates kids. Frankly I think it's a lot kinder to children to know in advance you truly don't want that responsibility and thus avoid it. It doesn't mean hating parents, either. It just means knowing that role isn't a good match for you personally.

IMHO one salient reason you're seeing more childfree/less people now is because people feel more comfortable not having kids, as opposed to having them under duress/societal pressure because "that's what you're supposed to do." I think another is more widespread access to family planning, which as we all know the right wing is screaming and melting down about.

And I think that should be okay. Not everyone is meant to be a parent. That's the message we need. The other message is that those who want to be parents should be able to decide when and how - and should have the societal and financial support to thrive and help their kids thrive and grow up feeling wanted, loved and supported.

#childfree

189 notes · View notes

the12thnightproject · 3 months

Text

Chapter Ten: Waves (Mitsunari POV) - Mitsunari isn’t great with emotion… but he’s very good at strategy. But can he strategize his way to a new connection with Okatsu?

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

Strategy: the employment of a nation's military capabilities through high level and long-term planning, development, and procurement to guarantee security or victory. Tactics, which contribute to the achievement of the overall strategy, can be limited to a single battle and used to reach a short-term objective.

Personal comments: I understand tactics and strategy when it comes to war. I understand nothing when it comes to human interactions. And yet, strategy is not constrained within the parameters of a battlefield. Therefore, why wouldn’t it be possible to use military tactics and strategy to reach an interpersonal objective?

“What other behavior can you expect out of … newlywebs.”

The fact that both Nobunaga and Mai both found Mitsunari’s spider… hunt… amusing ought to have been a relief, but Mitsunari was too aghast at his own behavior to feel anything but shame. He had put his hand on her… no. This was a memory he would need to push far far down, and only examine later, when the embarrassment was not as fresh. The only relief was that although Okatsu had laughed at the incident, she hadn’t seemed to be laughing at him. He suspected she was laughing at herself.

Even so, his… internal upheaval lasted until he decided instead to revisit the book he had been reading that afternoon. Concentrating on the text helped him feel more like himself, and as the meal progressed, Mitsunari lost himself in the comfort of words. Of ideas. Of strategy.

In the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy’s country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good. So, too, it is better to capture an army entire than to destroy it, to capture a regiment, a detachment or a company entire than to destroy them.

Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

Thus the highest form of generalship is to baulk the enemy’s plans; the next best is to prevent the junction of the enemy’s forces; the next in order is to attack the enemy’s army in the field; and the worst policy of all is to besiege walled cities. The rule is, not to besiege walled cities if it can possibly be avo-

Okatsu had just moved his soup bowl!

The words in his head scattered, chased away by images, flashes really, of memory. Okatsu moving his teacup away from his arm. Okatsu edging his chopsticks away from the ledge of the table. Okatsu catching a bottle of sake before it fell. Okatsu… preventing the stack of books from falling on him. She had been covertly assisting him for a while now. “Lady Okatsu, you do that a lot… am I correct?”

As per usual, Okatsu was businesslike in her assessment – possibly her view was that if a job needed doing, she would do it without hesitation. “Honestly, it’s instinctive at this point… but would you prefer I didn’t?”

“I’d rather I didn’t make it necessary.” No wonder she had treated the spider incident so casually. She had dealt with his clumsiness so often that it likely was no more than a matter of duty for her. In a way, he supposed it was.

With a shrug, Okatsu treated his worry like it was simply something he could strategize a solution for. “Pretend your meal is a sparring match and your goal is not to come into any accidental contact with anything on the table.”

Would that work? It was a solution he hadn’t thought about, but it required him to pay attention while he ate. Which meant if it worked, that his problem wasn’t inherent and incurable clumsiness, but focus. Did it also mean that Okatsu didn’t believe he was a lost cause? For some reason, that theory made him feel… well… hopeful, though he wasn’t sure why that was so. “Thank you, Lady Okatsu. I will try that.”

After dinner, Hideyoshi requested Mitsunari’s presence for a ‘short discussion,’ and Mitsunari wouldn’t have refused, even if he had wanted to. Unless the short discussion had to do with the spider incident. Which he would rather not think about yet. Or perhaps ever.

Unfortunately, once they reached the privacy of Hideyoshi’s rooms, that was exactly the topic Hideyoshi brought up. It was a casual mention, a comment thrown out while he was setting out his pipe and the Nanban ‘Tabaco’ that he’d developed a taste for. “Mitsunari, did Okatsu ask you to tou-”

Mitsunari stopped him right there. “I reached to brush away the spider, but it moved the other direction. I didn’t think, even when…” He paused, as the whole scene came rushing back, this time including Okatsu’s words. “She said, ‘wait, no’.” And he hadn’t listened. Once again, he wanted to retreat into the memory of his books. “I behaved worse than Mozumi.”

“No, clearly it was an honest mistake and Okatsu will-” Hideyoshi froze in the middle of packing the leaves into the pipe. “Mozumi? What did he do?”

“He took her to a shelf with books illustrating various acts of copulation and tried to touch her.” More shame, this time for not realizing what had been going on at the time. Had he been aware of what Mozumi was doing, he would have confronted the man.

“That…” Hideyoshi seemed at a loss for words. He sputtered a few nonsense syllables while his hands tightened on the stem of the pipe. Finally, he gathered himself back together. “How did Okatsu react?”

“She said she pretended to be stupid because she believed Mozumi would lose interest in bothering her.” Hm. Interesting that she had not reacted with her knife, the way she had when the sailor grabbed her. “He had already left the room before she told me what happened, or I would have let him know that was unacceptable… do you believe that I should confront him?”

Hideyoshi said nothing for a long moment, and the only noise was the rhythmic tapping of the pipe against the desk. “Lady Okatsu likely had the correct idea. I will discuss this with Nobunaga, and together we will subtly let Mozumi know we are watching him. Many would say that he has done nothing wrong, and indeed, he may not be aware that we find this kind of behavior inexcusable.”

“If it is inexcusable, then why are we excusing it?” Mitsunari did not want to give Mozumi another chance to bother Okatsu.

“We are not. Nobunaga will make it clear that Okatsu and Mai are under his protection, and insult to them would be a grave insult to him.” Hideyoshi gave a decisive nod. “Mozumi will not dare repeat the offense.”

With a bow, Mitsunari signaled his external agreement. Nobunaga would handle it. Internally, though, he promised himself that if Mozumi bothered Okatsu again, Mitsunari would also let him know this behavior was inexcusable.

When he returned to ‘their room,’ Okatsu was nowhere to be found. Was she avoiding him because of the spider? Or… what if Mozumi had decided that Okatsu would be a good victim after all? Spurred by that fear, Mitsunari hurried back to the banquet room, where a quick look at the scene inside was enough to confirm that Mozumi would likely be occupied for a while, if not the rest of the night.

Therefore, the good news was that Okatsu was not in danger from Mozumi. The bad news was that he still didn’t know where she was.

“Are you searching for Lady Okatsu?”

Mitsunari looked around, then down to see Mozumi’s young son addressing him. Unfortunately, Mitsunari couldn’t remember the child’s name, so instead, he simply nodded.

“She went to visit her horse.” The child bowed, then was towed off into the bowels of the castle by a harried looking retainer.

That mystery solved, Mitsunari returned to the room again, changed into his night clothing, and tried to concentrate on reading until Okatsu finally joined him. Just in case she was upset, he apologized again for putting his hand on her.

“It’s ok. Really. I know it was an accident.” Okatsu confirmed Hideyoshi’s take on the incident. “Could have been worse. Could have been a snake.” She rummaged through the shelves and found a night kimono, then casually strolled behind the screen.

Again, the sound of the rustle of her clothing against her skin did strange things to his senses. The screen was slightly raised above the floor – he could see her feet and ankles, as she stepped out of the discarded kimono. To distract himself from picturing the rest of her legs, he asked, “Are you afraid of snakes?”

“Only if they are poisonous. It was more that I was thinking a whole snake would have been pretty annoying in my clothes.” Rustle, rustle. She reappeared, fully covered in a turquoise kimono – apparently Mai had decided to make her something in her favorite color after all.

Mitsunari dragged his attention back to his book – it was odd not having the focus to read. Then again, he had never had to share quarters with a female person before … he was bound to find their ways and rituals curious. Still, it would be impolite to watch her, so he kept his eyes on the book, and only allowed himself covert glances out of the corner of his eyes. She placed her futon perpendicular to his, so that the tops met at the corner. She would be sleeping so close to him!

He would be able to hear her breathe.

The thought was oddly exciting.

She looked over at him and caught him staring. He was about to apologize again, but instead, she surprised him with new information. “Mitsuhide is in the stables.”

“Did he explain why?” Perhaps there was another purpose to this visit beyond an alliance and treaty. Mitsuhide would not have joined them, especially not in secret, if there weren’t an element of intrigue to be had.

She paused, and though there was no expression on her face, he realized her thoughts had gone the same direction as his. Mitsunari wasn’t sure how he knew this – perhaps like a book, Okatsu became more familiar with study. “No. Simply that he’d originally planned to send Kyubei, but that he needed Kyubei to go somewhere else.”

“It is always a good idea to have an undisclosed agent in reserve if you are unsure of your territory.” He watched Okatsu arrange her blankets and crawl into her futon. Hm. She likely did not plan to read before sleep. “Are you going to sleep now? Should I blow out the lantern?”

“If you want to keep reading, go ahead. It likely won’t make any difference.” Okatsu lay on her back. Rustle. Then on her side. Rustle. Then she cradled her arms under her head and pulled her knees up to chest. Rustle.

He blew out the light and in the sudden blackness, every breath and movement from her was magnified. Even in the dark, the image of her curled up in the bed was seared into his mind. He could hear her breathing softly, in and out, and imagined the rise and fall of her torso as she inhaled and exhaled. Her breathing reminded him of waves upon the shore.

When he was still answering to his childhood name of Sakichi, he had travelled with his father and brother to the ocean. He’d stood at the shoreline, fascinated by the way the waves lapped at his feet, then rolled back into the waters. What caused the motion? It had been a mystery he’d never solved. Even so, the knowledge that the waters approached and departed and approached and departed was a solace to him, evidence of an order and rhythm to a world that otherwise was characterized by disorder and chaos.

Listening to Okatsu breathing made him feel like he was back on that shore, with the steady rhythm of the waves providing comfort after a chaotic day. He focused on her breathing until the world softened and blackened.

Until some time later when his slumber was disturbed by the sound of Okatsu thrashing about. She sat up with a cry that choked off an instant after it began.

“Okatsu? Is anything wrong?” No one had come in to attack them. A bad dream?

“Yes, sorry. Did I wake you up?” Okatsu sounded as embarrassed as he had felt when he chased the spider into her clothing.

“Yes, but I don’t mind. Did you have a nightmare?” It was too dark to see her clearly, but Mitsunari rolled on his side to face her anyway. “This is why you don’t sleep?”

She took a deep breath as she lay back down. “A few years ago, I got trapped in a crate for a day and I still have nightmares about that.”

Trapped in a crate? A box? For an entire day? Though he didn’t quite grasp how that had come about, he wanted to comfort her, comfort her in the way that books, and the water could be a comfort to him. Perhaps he should offer a hug?

No… that felt like it would be too much of an imposition.

He reached over and tentatively patted her on her head. They way he would if she were Kitty and had curled up with him.

Her hair was soft.

She froze.

He held his breath.

Maybe this had been the wrong thing to do?

Then she moved closer, giving him greater access.

“I’m sad that happened to you.” Would it be wrong to ask her for more details? He supposed if she didn’t want to talk about it, she would say so. “Why were you stuck in a crate? Was it too small? I once got my hand stuck in Nobunaga’s candy jar.” He decided not to mention that he had only done such a thing at Mitsuhide’s instigation.

He could feel her relax further at his statement, as he had intended her to. “Was he upset?”

“No. Hideyoshi started using bigger jars, which resulted in more candy, so Nobunaga said he was pleased with my strategy.” He twined his fingers in her hair, careful not to accidentally snag it. Like the sea, he supposed, like waves. That was how to touch her. Ebb and flow. “Why were you stuck in the crate?”

“It’s kind of a long story. It was part of a plan to rescue my brother, but things went wrong.” She tensed up again, and Mitsunari concentrated on sending soothing thoughts through his hand. To heal if he was able. “Or I thought it was part of a plan to rescue my brother, but apparently it was actually a plan to get me out of the way, or even kill me… and no I don’t know why, but if I ever find the person who shut me in there, that’s one of the questions I plan to ask him.”

The anger Mitsunari had felt when he’d realized what Mozumi had done was nothing compared to the rage swelling up in him when he pictured Okatsu locked in and alone, left to die. He willed that feeling away – now was not the time for that. He could rage later. This was for figuring out what Okatsu needed, if he could, or letting her choose, if he could not. Because this incident had left scars, not simply with bad dreams. Okatsu seemed more restless when she was indoors, and she--. “This is why you like being outside or near windows, isn’t it?”

“Yes. That’s-” Whatever she meant to say was interrupted by a yawn.

“Maybe you can sleep better now?” Although he liked talking to her in the dark, it would be better for both if they slept.

“I’ll try.” She burrowed into the bed but stayed within his reach. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome Okatsu.” Since she seemed to enjoy it, he continued to caress the top of her head, as her breath slowed and the tension eased from her body.

She was asleep now, he could tell. Mitsunari considered removing his hand from her hair, but he was enjoying the texture of it as it curled very slightly under his fingertips. Okatsu had seemed so competent, even businesslike with him until this night that he hadn’t realized she was hiding behind that. It was her armor. A castle with gates and a moat.

As a strategist, he appreciated that competence, as he imagined Mitsuhide did as well, or the man wouldn’t have brought her into this.

But… as a man… he was now noticing there was softness there too. Maybe she didn’t want to be soft – if she had survived such a frightening attempt on her life by someone that – reading between the lines – she had trusted, Mitsunari could even understand why. But like that unexpected curl in her hair, it was there.

Though the residual embarrassment surged through him, he finally allowed himself to think back to the moment when he’d instinctively followed that spider’s path down the front of her kimono, and his fingers had encountered a different, an exciting softness. Another woman might have thrown a fit, or retreated into embarrassment, but Okatsu had simply laughed it off.

That had been a relief then. But now, with her sleeping quietly under his hand, he wished she had turned just a little pink, and looked at him with a dawning awareness in her eyes. Instead of being… businesslike.

No – businesslike was not how she treated him. She acted as if he were her brother – in fact – she had mentioned that he reminded her of him.

Perhaps that was for the best. They had made a bargain. Okatsu wanted to return to her life. Mitsunari wanted no distractions in his.

But… if he did change his mind… if… would he be able to change hers?

It… might be somewhat like a battle campaign. He was a strategist after all. If he could figure out a strategy for war, he could figure out one for affection.

If he wanted to.

Okatsu stirred in her sleep, and rolled over, leaving his hand behind, alone, and cold.

And Mitsunari knew.

He wanted to.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

#TBTMND #A mitsunari nights dream #throwback thursday #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen mitsunari #ikemen sengoku fanfic #ishida mitsunari #oc katsuko #katsuverse #ikesen hideyoshi #queued

17 notes · View notes

brucespringsteen · 5 months

Text

i have an interview tomorrow. anyway so about my employment history. i worked the front desk at a gym as a teenager but i was annoyingly shy to have gained any social skills from it. before that, i worked on construction sites for cash but i mostly just cleaned and fetched tools. always thought i was gonna become a tattoo artist but pressure of being first generation whatever i felt like i should get a degree first then pursue that. then one day youre 18 polisci major art minor working in an art gallery, assisting your political science professor in editing a book, and contributing research to a local history project and getting hired as an independent contractor to see its completion and it's one of the most gratifying accomplishments u ever had. mostly bc these are all connections you've made on ur own after an eternity of being a quiet kid. now ur name is on the wall forever of ur local community college and u think its only bigger and better things from here even tho you're terrified and exhausted. lots of eyes on u. then you decide the natural progression is going to a university and getting a paid internship with [redacted] but everything about it was disgusting. you had a breakdown in the office of the school counselor you matched with and were talking to on bumble. you dropped out and worked as a barista for a few years. felt so lost bc for the first time in your life you didn't have a goal or bigger meaning to things. started finally feeling happy with life but then went through a crazy health scare. learned to play pokemon cards. applied and had some interviews with corporate world jobs and finally asked myself wtf do i want from myself. from all this. found out the meaning of it all is friendship and following your heart just like in the stories. now you're enrolled in cosmetology school and want to cut hair (and play pokemon cards) and be amongst the people and stay true forever

42 notes · View notes

allthecanadianpolitics · 9 months

Text

Middle-income earners will start seeing a larger portion of their paycheques going toward Canada Pension Plan contributions as of Monday. A broader pension revamp began in 2019 as both the Quebec Pension Plan and CPP began phasing in enhanced benefits intended to provide more financial support for Canadians after they retire. So far, individual contributions -- and the employer's matching portion -- have primarily ticked upward. The trade-off is that Canadians will eventually receive higher payouts once they start collecting their pensions.

Tagging @politicsofcanada

#cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #canada pension plan

33 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 days

Text

In recent weeks, both Vice President Kamala Harris and former President Donald Trump have announced proposals to exempt tips from federal taxes, much to the chagrin of economists across the ideological spectrum.

The obvious problem is that the proposals are inconsistent with sound tax policy. The less obvious problem is that exempting tips would not even help the vast majority of low-income workers. Still, the proposal opens the door for discussing better ways to organize taxes and help low-income workers, such as expanding the Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) and the Child Tax Credit (CTC).

The proposals

Harris would exempt tips from income tax but not payroll taxes—the contributions that people make to Social Security and Medicare. Her proposal would allow workers in the service and hospitality industries with income below $75,000 to claim exemptions up to a (currently unspecified) capped amount.

Trump has offered scant details. It appears that his proposal would not limit the tax break by sector or income level. This would match two recently introduced bills, one by Senator Ted Cruz (R-TX) and Representative Byron Donalds (R-FL) and the other by Representatives Thomas Massie (R-KY) and Matt Gaetz (R-FL). But it is unclear whether Trump would exempt tips from payroll taxes. The Cruz-Donalds proposal would apply only to the income tax, while Massie-Gaetz would apply to payroll taxes as well.

Better ways to help low-income workers

Both camps see their proposals as a way to improve the economic standing of low-wage workers.

We agree that this is an important goal, but there are much better ways to achieve it. Only 5% of workers in the bottom earnings quartile earn tips and could possibly benefit from the proposal. Even among tipped workers, 37% earn so little that they pay no federal income tax and so would not benefit from the tax cut.

Additionally, it may not be workers who gain from such a policy. Employers might simply cut workers’ base pay, pocketing the would-be gains for themselves. Business owners could attempt to reclassify employees as tipped workers under the guise of a tax break, only to then also drop their pay to the lower tipped minimum wage (currently $2.13 per hour federally, compared to $7.25 per hour for non-tipped workers).

Lastly, exempting tips from taxation risks depriving workers of several federal benefits. For instance, if the Trump proposal in fact shields tips from payroll taxes, then workers—perhaps unknowingly—would receive reduced retirement benefits, which are based on total career contributions to Social Security and Medicare. Similarly, the EITC phases in for low-income workers, meaning that, if a family earning tipped wages has their taxable income drop below a certain threshold, they will lose benefits, potentially even more than the corresponding tax cut. The Center for American Progress, in reviewing Cruz’s plan, finds that savings might also be fully offset by lower CTC benefits for many families.

Exempting tips from taxation does nothing to help most low-income workers, and it may do little for many tipped workers—or even actively harm them. This means that candidates would be better off focusing their efforts on policies which would benefit all low-wage workers. This could include an increase in the minimum wage, as Harris has already announced, or potentially closing (or even eliminating) the gap between the minimum and tipped minimum wages. It could also include expanding the CTC and EITC, both of which Harris has proposed. Although vice-presidential nominee JD Vance has proposed his own version of an expended CTC, the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 calls for eliminating “most deductions, credits, and exclusions.” Ultimately, if the two candidates want to flex their commitment to lifting low-wage workers, there are numerous sound ways to do so—but exempting tips from tax isn’t the answer.

Distortionary tax policy

Moreover, regardless of the specifics, the proposals make for distortionary tax policy.

A carveout for tips violates the basic principle of equity, a cornerstone of sound tax policy. Exempting income earned as tips for a waitress, but not wages earned by a teacher, ensures that two taxpayers with the same level of income would pay markedly different amounts of tax. On top of this, it is somewhat ironic that tipped workers have been singled out for tax relief given their already-high rate of tax evasion. And the proposals could make state tax collections more complex.

Moreover, introducing an exemption for tips creates a slippery slope for future tax avoidance. Giving one type of income preferential treatment automatically creates an incentive for taxpayers to find ways to label their income that way. Under the Trump proposal, for example, what is to stop lawyers from slashing their rates and allowing clients to pay them a large, tax-free tip for their services? Also, enacting the proposal would open the door for others to seek relief for their particular form of income, such as the bonuses or commissions that hedge fund managers and investment bankers earn. Although the Harris campaign has at least attempted to limit these outcomes through its proposed guardrails, this would only serve to complicate a tax system already mired in a dizzying array of exemptions, all while the IRS has limited resources to shut down loopholes for wealthy tax cheats as it is. It would be far simpler—and fairer and less risky—to simply continue to tax tips as normal income.

Lastly, the U.S. continues to face a long-term debt problem. According to recent analyses from Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget (CRFB), the Trump plan would cost between $150-200 billion over the next decade, while Harris’s plan would cost a little less than half of that, due to her proposed targeting. However, when combined with a concurrent proposal to raise the minimum wage, CRFB estimates that Harris’s plan would still cost $100-200 billion. Furthermore, these estimates assume that there is no behavioral response to the new policy. If workers instead shift a higher portion of their income into tipped wages, then the costs of these proposals could quickly balloon to as much as $325 billion for Harris and $500 billion for Trump.

If the candidates want to help low wage workers, they should be direct in their approach. A “no taxes on tips” approach will not do the trick, and the distortions in the tax system outweigh the few benefits it might provide.

7 notes · View notes

netherworldpost · 2 years

Text

This blog contains mature content (but not financial advice, you must do your own research + make your own decisions)

Let’s talk about 401K Contributions. They are frequently great! Your employer may say “We will match up to 3% of your 401K contributions.”

That means if you invest 1%, they will invest 1%. A total of 2% is invested.

If you invest 2%, they invest 2%. A total of 4% is invested.

If you invest 3%, they will invest 3%. A total of 6% is invested.

If you invest 4%, they will invest 3%. A total of 7% is invested.

They may offer higher or lower than 3%.

401Ks are sometimes given a bad rap because the fees are high and/or your investment options are limited -- maybe the companies being invested in are not in line with your politics, maybe they are in company stock, maybe they are in line with your employer’s politics... you get the picture.

It should be noted that 401K rollovers are possible -- i.e. you take the money from this account and put it into another 401K, which has better options for you and/or lower fees.

401Ks are a bit tricky in a few ways.

Firstly, they are taken pre-tax. If you make $100, and invest 3%, and your company matches this, you have $6 invested -- and the resulting $97 paycheck is taxed ($100 - your $3 contribution). So your immediate tax bill is lowered a bit, and there is more money invested.

For easy math, let’s say your tax bill is 25% and you make $100/check

$100 check - 25% = $75 take home with $0.00 invested.

$100 check - 3% ($3) invested, matched = $97 taxable - 25% = $72.75 take home and $6 invested.

So, yes, you are functionally taking home less ($75 vs $72.75 = $2.75 less take home)

But your $3 invested has the potential to grow

And your immediate return is 100% (your company matched your $3, a total of $6 now exists in an account under your name).

So now your fund has $6 to grow.

Which means a combination of 401K fund fees + market downturn has to drop +50% before your contribution is affected.

...which is a significantly bigger drop than the October 28-29, 1929 crash that kicked off the Great Depression which was 13% then a secondary 12%. If that happened to you, your $6 would look like:

Day 1: $6 - 13% = $5.22

Day 2: $5.22 - 12% = $4.59

Which is still $1.59 more than half of what you invested btw.

Let’s be very ungenerous and truncate +0.8% of the S&P 500 growth since it began, and calculate an 11% average return over 10 years. You invested $3 ONCE, you were matched $3 ONCE, your fund is now worth about $15.35. It doubled between years 7 and 8. If you hold it another 10 years (total 20), it is now worth about $43.58.

I want to stress I did easy math and rounded down to 11%, nearly a full percentage point

And that this was a single investment of $3 and a single match of $3.

This is an averaged figure because “hey sometimes the market crashes” (I remember vividly the aftermath of coping mechanisms I took to get through 2008)

This means you have to be careful and patient. It also means that company match? It helps protect your cheddar. If it helps, think of it as “the company match lost money before my invested cash kicked in.” See above 1929 market crash example.

The tax is taken when you withdraw the cash from the fund, typically in retirement as there are typically pre-retirement penalties. The entire scheme is designed to encourage you to save for retirement (cough and propel the economy at the same time cough)

And when you’re in retirement, you take out bits and pieces at a time, so there is still cash kicking around and growing.

Secondly, as I say above, 401Ks roll over.

If you find yourself in a fund that has a high fee (”high” defined by “you have googled other 401K plans and see better deals”) and/or you leave this job and/or your 401K plan is limited, you can shove it somewhere else.

Consult your plan to see if there are penalties (probably not) or fees (probably not) and/or how to do this. You may have to wait a certain amount of time to be “vested” -- a fancy way of saying “your account must be THIS OLD to move and/or be considered fully yours.”

If you had an old job that you left ages ago and forgot to roll over the 401K, it is still out there somewhere, google “find old 401Ks” and pursue the research. You’ll get it back.

"So my employer match is additional money?”

Yes.

“I want the money before I can retire to buy a house and/or cover medical bills!”

This is possible through various paths, but is tricky, and frequently expensive. Consult your money folks (the people who handle your 401K, this will be separate from your employer) on risks and rewards.

However, and I want to stress this, even with the penalties, because your employer matched something, there is a bigger potential pool of cash there.

“...my 401K is down like -X%... why am I pumping money into something losing money...”

It’s tricky and requires a lot of discipline, but unless you’re preparing for retirement in the next 5-10 years, being down means buying stock is cheaper.

Shares in your 401K that cost $100 before are now priced at $75. If you’re 20+ years from retirement, if they are worth more, you’ll get more money out.

Thems the hard knocks of the stock market.

It’s easy to panic when things are low but unless you are selling the stock soon, it’s not affecting you directly.

Fund set ups vary greatly, but a massively common feature is your fund is not buying stock directly. It is buying any number of stock bundles.

Your 401K is dipping your stock group(s) are dropping, as the individual stocks in the group are dipping, and someone on the other end of the chain is in charge of fixing that as best as possible.

Sometimes that means “wait” because this is a predictable period (a company spending a ton of money to upgrade, etc). Sometimes that means “rebalance” (”these companies aren’t going to recover, we gotta ditch them and figure something out.”

The suits in charge of the 401k fund(s) are in charge of figuring this out.

“So... you’re saying... I should just trust these suits?”

Oh, moonbeams, no.

This is a litany of information that is very entry level and is frequently not taught anywhere. Use as information to begin Step 1 of Many. The number, shape, and direction of your steps will vary based on your individual circumstances and mindset and resources. None of this is financial advice!

“I can’t afford to contribute that much and/or at all.”

I hope your circumstances improve soon.

“This is a weird thing for a ghost post office to talk about.”

Besides having a chuckle at a blog that was labeled “mature content” and had just random stuff posted (the inspiration for this post), there is actually a long history of the post office offering basic banking services and some are being piloted again / another article.

Given the USPS’s legal obligation to every citizen in this country, I am a huge fan of any reasonable service that it can similarly offer that both boosts viability to the office and accessibility to people.

Plus the whole “atty is a agent of lunar chaos thing” and i am the atty in this equation, so, y’know, on brand.

“I would like to learn more about the stock market etc.”

I subscribe to and frequently enjoy ColdFusion’s financial videos and most everything The Plain Bagel produce on YouTube.

“It is too late, I am X years old.”

Cash-need circumstances should fuel your decision to stop or delay investing. Age should not. If you are 50 and starting, you’re setting yourself up for when you are 60, 70, etc.

“Okay last thing, my job doesn’t have a 401K matching and/or a 401K at all and/or I am self-employed”

Look into IRAs and Roth IRAs. They may be right for you, but more importantly, this will put you on the path of research. If they aren’t, you’ll find something that is.

“Seriously though last thing. I like to keep my cash liquid.”

At the very least you should keep your cash in something called a “high yield interest savings account.”

Your checking branch down the street is going to offer you 0.01 - 0.03% or so.

A high yield, fee free savings account is going to offer you something significantly higher for quick math sake, let’s say 3%.

Now let’s do the math on $100, untouched for 1 year, compounded monthly:

$100 * 0.03% annual yield compounded monthly = $100.30 after a year

$100 * 3.00% annual yield compounded monthly = $103.04 after a year

A difference of $2.74 without effort on your part

I don’t understand why / I hate that / basic savings accounts exist when high yield versions exist. But that bitterness at the financial industry at large is a secondary reason why this post is made.

The tertiary reason is I tremendously enjoy being your wacky, excessively colorfully dressed, gothy neighbor who you don’t quite know what they do for a living, but you do know they are living their best life. It’s a sitcom staple.

And now!

Time for coffee.

Go protect and grow your funds!

#aging tumblr population #is one of my favorite tags

165 notes · View notes