So About Those Prices

an incredibly sensitive instrument.

The problem with “senseless violence” narrative around the UnitedHealthcare CEO is that it ignores the inherent violence of the insurance industry. Denying someone lifesaving care is violence. Subjecting someone to drawn out periods of pain before treatment is violent. The industry is made up of millions of acts of violence everyday, with the CEO at the helm guiding it all. This is not unprovoked and it’s not an overreaction; it is just harder to ignore

catching up 🎄

New procedure

Gonna be fr grown adult queers should know better than to engage in crazy fear mongering telling other people it’s over and we’re all gonna be sent to camps and lose our rights and be criminalized and whatever like hey how about don’t tell a group of people with unbelievably high suicide rates that there’s no hope and life is over

Uhm wrote up something silly of Fire Jelly (silly hero oc) at his silly job— also gave him a digital portrait <3 uhh minor smoking warning ig

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You probably don’t expect a group of tech nerds to be all rowdy, but they are. The office is always full of loud laughter and playful pushing and such. It’s a bit crowded, though there’s just about 8 of them, the office isn’t the most spacious place. It’s okay, though.

It’s fun— they’re all friends.

It’s fun— they’re having fun.

It’s just a lot. Overwhelming. Overstimulating. A little. Just a little too much. Sometimes someone just needs a breather— a little break. Just a few minutes. Just a few minutes outside. Just a minute.

Finn pushed himself out of his little sticker-covered desk— and pulled himself out of his torn old swivel chair. He rubbed over the little stickers stuck on the wood surface for a moment before he walked off. Star stickers, flowers, cartoon characters, etc. slightly overlapping with each other, crammed together and completely covering a third of the desk. He hopes that the fact of nobody saying anything means it’s okay— because the furniture isn’t really good anyway.

He’s just a bit wobbly, sitting for too long. He wonders if that’s why the other coders are basically wrestling with each other every minute they can— so they don’t get all stiff and tired.

He slipped past them, trying to ignore the terrible jokes and music he’d been forced to overhear for hours, and made his way outside. He got bumped up against once or twice, and tried not to let his urge to just go limp and fall over win. He wouldn’t hit anything, his abilities triggered on instinct when he knew he’d be getting too close to eating dirt, but suddenly floating around in front of your coworkers isn’t an ideal situation.

He took a deep breath once he’d made it out. It’s darker than he expected it to be. How long has he been in there? It… didn’t feel that long? He didn’t want to bother pulling out his phone and checking, he didn’t really care. It’s not like he had anyone waiting up on him— or at least he didn’t think he did? He hadn’t been called in, so there’s nothing. He thinks.

He’s reaching into his pocket, because he’s realizing that maybe he should care— that the time might actually matter— but he’s cut off by someone tapping him with the back of their hand, trying to get his attention.

They had a cigarette in their hand. Right. This was a smoking spot, for when people needed smoke breaks. They were someone from another office, taking a smoke break.

“You have a light?”, they asked him quietly with their cigarette pointed towards him. “You can have one if you let me use your lighter.”, they continued.

He didn’t exactly think before he pinched the end of the cigarette between his fingers, and ignited it. The thought didn’t come across his mind, the thought of “normal people can’t spark fire from their hands, so you shouldn’t do it”. It just didn’t make it there fast enough. Apparently, it was just delayed, because he stopped and pulled his hand away a second later.

His panicked brain could only think of a response to the person’s offer, and not a way to handle his major misstep. “I don’t smoke— it feels gross”, he blurted out.

This person… didn’t seem to care much. As if they didn’t notice that instead of pulling out a lighter and igniting it, this strange guy just made fire from his fingertips. They just took a drag, inhaling and exhaling deeply as they leaned against the wall.

“Gross? Yeah, it feels pretty weird. I just ignore it.”, they spoke softly while watching the smoke float away. They took another drag.

He stared at them, dumbfounded. They definitely saw what he did, and they’re just completely unbothered. They didn’t even pause for a second. They didn’t blink. They just went on with their smoke break. He feels even more awkward than normal. It’d probably have been better if they just did something, but absolutely nothing? Does he just stand there too? But he can see them and smell the smoke— he can’t just ignore them.

“… Smoking’s really bad for you, and you feel weird smoking, so… why are you smoking..?”, he tilted his head a bit as he asked them tensely. He was turned towards them, looking between the smoke they blew out and bits of their attire. He could mostly just tell that they’re wearing the simple office attire every office worker wears. Simple work shirt, simple work pants. He didn’t look like that, because despite it being an office job, uniforms didn’t matter for his group.

They shrugged. Just shrugged.

He leaned a bit closer, so ready to ask something else, but he’s cut off the moment he opens his mouth. A phone ring. He’s phone’s ringing, and it shocks him upright. He turns on his heel and rushes off somewhere else— somewhere he’s not entirely sure of yet, but he’ll figure it out when he answers the call.

By the time he’s ended the call, he’s in the bathroom getting dressed. It was a distress call. From Angelfish. Well, less of a distress call and more of a “please come lend me just a bit of a hand..?” call. It was important regardless— way more important than being crammed in an office. To him. He can work from home anyway— he just shows up because they spent the money they didn’t use on furniture on good computers instead, and his laptop doesn’t like him very much. It can get the job done, but you can only take so much lagging and crashing before you wanna smash your computer.

He pulled on his little homemade hero uniform, and thought about where he’d take them for food this time. Any time he worked with them, he’d treat them to a meal for their good work. Like a coach buying his team pizza— except Finn isn’t much of a coach. Not much of a mentor either, but that’s what he’s supposed to be. He’s okay enough at looking after them, but teaching them? They teach him more than he teaches them. The best he offers is a few little anecdotes about his personal experiences, but not really lessons. His mentorship consists of yapping, watching, and buying food.

He’ll go with the same place again.

abusing tumblr image limits to put together my emergency disco propaganda kit. for future reference or something

READ TF2 7TH COMIC HERE

something something scout pool