#starker cc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starkerisendgame · 4 years

Text

A State of Undress

Loosely inspired by this post by @starkerobsession. The basic premise being that Peter wears Iron Man panties under his Spidersuit. This takes place during and following the iconic rooftop scene during Homecoming. I decided to post it to this account because I’ve been sorely neglecting it since making my other main. I also said on Discord this was gonna be short. As always; that idea got fucked pretty quickly. Big love to everyone on Discord who hyped this up.

TW: Slight angst | Undernegotiated sex/kink | Power imbalance | Referenced D/s | Underage

Humiliated doesn’t even come close to covering how Peter feels. Thoroughly checked and put in place, there’s nothing for him to do but retreat to the edge of the rooftop, sitting on the ledge and curling over himself to watch the people milling about in the streets.

Would they care? He wondered miserably. Would they wonder where Spiderman went? Will they miss him? Will they be okay without me?

Stupid. That last one is stupid; of course they’ll be okay without him. They have people like The Avengers. People like Tony. They have the police and the general good people amongst them willing to help.

They don’t need Spiderman. The only person who needs Spiderman is...Peter.

He looked down, trailing his fingertips over the ornate pattern that curved and stretched from his fingertips to his shoulder. It was the last time he was going to touch it. The last time he was going to wear it. He risked a glance back at where Tony stood near the hovering suit, on a connected call to Happy.

It was undoubtedly going to be the last time he saw Tony, too.

Like he could sense he was being watched, Tony turned smoothly on his heel, dark gaze finding where Peter had cowered in the corner like a scolded dog. His expression was both impassive and telling, teeth pressed firmly together and brows level as he motioned for Peter to come closer.

He didn’t dare speak as he pulled himself to his feet, arms and thighs still aching, stomach still taut and rolling where it had felt like his arms were going to be ripped off like in the movies. He didn’t dare to lift his gaze when he got closer, staring at the polished black oxfords that Tony wore.

“Happy has clothes for you. You’re gonna change in the car, and then because I’m nice and an adult, he is going to take you home”. The unspoken for good lingered between them, terse and volatile, and Peter closed his teeth down over his tongue as his eyes burned with tears, reaching up to tug the mask over his face so Tony wouldn’t see them.

Tony took a step away, the suit lowering to mold to his form like water flowing through the curves of a landscape, and then they were both masked, Peter finally lifting his gaze to those glowing, cerulean slits. He’d always thought the suit looked kind of adorably grumpy, but now it just seemed cold and impassive, scowling at him from an arm’s length away, as out of reach now as it had ever been.

Tony’s head tilted, like he was about to say something, before he seemingly changed his mind and made a finger-crooked ‘follow me’ motion, striding to the edge of the root not far from where Peter had been and stepping off it with simple, dramatic elegance. Peter, needing momentum to swing, jogged after him and jumped, arching like a diver before he twisted, letting a web snake out and propel him onwards.

He relished in the feel. It would be more or less the last time he ever did this.

He followed Tony, but took an extra building or two’s liberty along the way, just to draw out the feeling of sailing through the air, of the comfort of the suit fitting against every curve, every line of his body. The joy was over in seconds though, as he landed on the asphalt next to the SUV, where Happy stood waiting and where Tony had only just landed.

Peter tugged the mask off, eyes wet and cheeks ruddy with tear-tracks. Happy’s mouth opened, then closed, and he looked away, brows pinched and mouth downturned. It made Peter breathe out a sigh of relief, though he knew the additional scolding and rant would come when he was trapped in the car with no escape.

“Clothes are in the back. Dress quickly” Tony instructed him, tugging open the back door of the SUV. “Knock on the window when you’re decent”. And Peter was vaguely surprised, because he’d expected Tony to just...Leave. But then, maybe Tony was sticking around to make sure that Peter didn’t try to take anything from the suit.

Sniffling, he wiped his eyes and ducked into the car, pulling the door shut behind him. Whilst it was a spacious vehicle, it was no Limousine, and he had to remain ducked over and folded up as he reached to press the pressure sensor that would disengage the form-fitting suit. It fell away from his shoulders with a soft sound, and he instantly felt cold and exposed, instantly missed its reassuring texture.

He was tugging the suit down around his hips, trying to keep his balance, when the cool air blew on the topmost slope of his ass, and he cursed.

Fuck.

How could he have forgotten? The moment Tony said he wanted the suit back, it should have clicked in his mind. It had, in some way. He knew he was only wearing underwear beneath the suit, but he’d forgotten which underwear. The sleek fabric was a cross between a thing and panties, the front enough to cover his slender cock but the fabric diminishing as it hugged his hips and sank into the groove of his ass. What covered his tight little hole was barely more than a string.

Red was outlined with rich gold, and a detailed arc reactor nestled just at the top of his assline, where the small of his back sloped into the parted curve of his cheeks and where the last of the fabric dwindled. On the front, just under the jut of his hips, two blue strips to resemble the mask’s eyes stood out against the burnished red.

Peter let out a soft whine and shifted back onto his haunches, trying to squirm out of the suit in the limited space. He was thankful that the clothes Happy had picked out were far too big - The shirt looked like it would come down to his thighs, and the garish pink sweatpants were thick enough that they would obscure Peter’s shameful secret from view.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he chanted, risking a glance over his shoulder. The windows had been tinted, and Tony had his back to the car, but Peter still tried to hurry, leaning backwards and kicking his legs as he fought the fabric down his thighs. He was leaning fully backwards now, one hand braced on the arm-rest of the door as he scrabbled to undress. He was just kicking the suit away from his ankles when his weight shifted, shunting as his hand slipped and his head whacked off the lower portion of the window with a dull thunk.

He groaned in pain and shuffled, trying to regain his balance when there was the soft click of the door lock, and his heart raged against his ribs as the door bracing his weight suddenly disappeared and he fell backwards, head lolling out of the vehicle and nearly between Tony’s thighs, giving him a perfect, upside view of his clothed cock as his own thighs and arms splayed for grip.

“You shoulder consider a career in quick cha- Jesus Christ”. Tony’s voice was sharp, stunned, and Peter cringed, a ragged whimper of defeated humiliation hitching in his throat as he forced himself to tip his head forwards a little, look past the rise of Tony’s groin and up his shirt, to where the older man was staring unabashedly at his own cock, at the red and gold and blue that stretched over it.

And then he was looking down, meeting Peter’s gaze with dark yet electric eyes, and Peter flushed, letting his head ball back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Happy” Tony barked tersely. “Take a walk. I’ll text you”.

“What? Boss, I can’t just-”

“Take. A. Walk”.

Footsteps, fading.

Peter daren’t open his eyes, trembling where he lay as the silence seemed to stretch between them like a piece of elastic at the point of breaking. He’d seen the panties in the window of a women’s lingerie store, limited edition and the last pair. It had been sheer chane that they’d fit him, and sheer luck that the girl behind the counter hadn’t even bothered to ask him his age or who he was buying them for.

“That’s all you were wearing under the suit?” Tony asked after a moment, voice strained and low, and Peter risked a short, curt nod, not wanting the make the scenario any worse by accidentally headbutting his ex-boss(?) in the cock. The silence continued for a beat. “And you bought those. Personally. You chose them, and you chose to wear them”.

He nodded again. No sense in lying. What could he say otherwise? His Aunt had bought them for him? May hadn’t bought him underwear since he’d turned ten. And she certainly wouldn’t buy him a set that verged on a thong.

Silence. Peter risked opening his eyes, gaze finding and fixing on the brief peek on Tony’s zipper for lack of anywhere else. He didn’t want to disturb this by moving, didn’t want to shake Tony out of his distracted or rage-induced silence and unleash whatever verbal lashing Tony was going to unleash. He did shuffle a little though, bringing his thighs closer together, trying to tuck his legs up a little to cover his indignity.

“I didn’t know you’d see it” he mumbled after a moment, cheeks flared red and voice weak, breathy. The overwhelming sense of you fucked up threatened to overlap him, envelop him. It had never actually occurred to Peter that Mr. Stark might actually ever see it. Since that day before the whole ‘Civil War’ shebang, Tony hadn’t set foot in the apartment, much less his room.

And Tony had never seen Peter in anything less than the suit. He’d even built an undersuit for it, a thin sort of spandex-like wearable for under the suit so he’d be less exposed when getting in and out of it, though Peter rarely wore it for the sake of quick changes. He was deeply lamenting that decision now, though, when Tony’s gaze still hadn’t moved from his barely covered cock, his fingers flexing then fisting at his sides.

“You’re wearing my face on your crotch” Tony announced again, and Peter cringed. He probably shouldn’t mention the arc reactor on his ass, then. When he dared to look back up, he noted with surprise that some of the view from before was now obscured by the black fabric of Tony’s pants. And the man hadn’t stepped closer. Which meant that...

Tony Stark was hard. Or...Hardening. To the thought of Peter wearing Iron Man underwear. He blew out a harsh breath and squirmed a little where he lay, jolting heat coursing through his body at the notion. “You...You know you’ve always been my hero” he weakly defended. As if that made this whole scenario any better.

“Martin Luther King is also a hero figure, but I’ve never seen anyone wearing a thong in his likeness” Tony pointed out, and Peter’s cheeks erupted like a volcano, flaring hot and red. He gave a mumble in response, fingers flexing against the frame of the car where he’d gripped as he fell. “Is that why you agreed, when I asked for your help? You wanted to fuck me?”

Peter scowled, head tipping forwards to furrow his brows at Tony past the rise of his cock. “I agreed because you’re Tony Stark. Nobody says no to you; least of all someone that idolises you. I was excited. I was flattered. You wanted my help and you were offering to help me be Spiderman. What was I gonna say, ‘no’?”

Although, he’d tried to. He’d had homework, after-all.

“Did you own these, back then?” Tony asked, one hand lifting to rest of the open door, fingers flexing around the metal. Peter huffed, but shook his head.

“No”. No, these he’d bought only a few months ago. An impulse buy. He drew a breath and tried to push himself up, but as he began to a hand fell to his shoulder and pushed him back down. Something thrilling shot down his spine, lips parting as he relaxed back under the touch, looking at where Tony fixed him with a dark, almost unreadable gaze, except for how his pupils were blown and his breathing had deepened.

“Mr. Stark. I’m- I think I’m humiliated enough. Right now” he gathered the courage to say after a moment where nothing else happened, and Tony’s fingers flexed against his shoulder, teeth audibly grinding together. Beneath the silk blend of his slacks, his cock twitched. It stole the breath from Peter’s lungs and he didn’t dare lift his gaze for fear of shattering the moment.

“You always make things so difficult, kid” Tony breathed out, almost like he didn’t mean for Peter to hear it. And then louder; “I’m trying to do the right thing here. I’m trying not to be like- I’m trying to be better than Howard. I’m trying to be responsible and you’re there between my legs wearing Iron Man panties”. Peter was so stunned he couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, brain grinding to a halt.

“Mr. Stark?” Was all he could manage in a bare whisper, and Tony’s fingers dug gently into his shoulder before releasing, sliding up and over the extended column of his throat, touch featherlight. For all that it was gentle, it scorched a path of heat along the skin, forcing Peter to swallow heavily. He felt like he was frozen glass, fragile and liable to shatter at the slightest pressure. He was confused, slightly turned on, and a little afraid.

“You’re too pretty. I should have taken one look at you out of the suit and found someone else. Not least because you’re a kid. Look at me, I’ve just destroyed your life, broken your heart, and I’m thinking about...” He trailed off, nothing but a ghost of a whisper, and Peter swallowed.

“Thinking about what?”

“You” Tony answered simply, but the meaning behind the word was anything but simple, and it sent a thrill down his spine, gaze once again falling to find where Tony’s cock pressed against the zipper of his slacks, not fully hard but invested in the situation none the less. He thought about it carefully. He wasn’t an ignorant child - He knew the power imbalance between them. Knew that the age difference was deplorable. Knew that Tony would be taking extreme advantage of him, especially after this.

And yet.

“I would” he whispered after a moment, soft and hesitant. “Even...I still would. I’ve always wanted to. I know it wouldn’t get me the suit back. But I’d do it anyway”. And above him Tony’s teeth ground and he swallowed, gripping the door tighter, gaze darker than obsidian.

“This is why you shouldn’t be around me, kid. I’d let you” Tony managed roughly, voice no more than a strained rasp. It made Peter’s head spin, rapidly re-thinking, re-evaluating any and every interaction they’d had post this. Had Tony thought this when they met? Was he thinking about it when they were shut safely away in his bedroom? Would he have done something then, if it had come to light?

“Then let me” he rushed out before he could second-guess it, drawing his hands away from the edge of the door to reach slowly and shakily for Tony, who hissed a breath and reached for him, then stopped, fingers clenching around air as Peter lay his palms on his thighs. The muscles were thick and taut beneath his palm, near trembling like a startled horse as he slowly slid them up. He’d never done anything like this before, not with anyone, but he kind of knew what felt good on himself.

And porn made it look easy enough, even though he was old enough to know not everything in porn was real. Still, he knew enough to close his grip around Tony’s zipper, dragging it down awkwardly until a large hand wrapped around his wrist, stilling the motion. He couldn’t really see Tony with his head lolled back like this, but his sinking heart when Tony pulled his hand away lasted only a moment, before Tony dragged the zipper down for him.

Peter breathed in, out, let his head fall to the side. They were so openly exposed here. Anyone could walk past at any moment, or a street camera could turn there way, or-

“JARVIS. Smoke and Mirrors, please” Tony rasped above him. Peter watched the still deployed suit turn, the hologram activate, and the air around the entrance to the alley shimmer. He didn’t have to question it, he knew that meant a real-time projection of the ‘empty’ alley was now being deployed. Anyone walking past would just see an unwelcoming, empty space full of garbage bins and litter.

“If you’re doing this because-”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter interrupted, fingers flexing against his thighs. “I know this is conceptually wrong. I know this won’t get me the suit back. I know this doesn’t mean anything. But just...Let me”. It came out more as a plea towards the end, high and breathy as he fought the urge to cry again, and Tony fell silent above him, grip and stance relaxing.

He reached for Tony again, fumbling with how to approach it, when Tony’s hands moved as a buffer and took over, reaching down into the dip of his slacks. Peter’s throat went dry and his heart hammered as he watched the fabric move, watched as Tony drew out a sizeable, mostly-hard, flushed cock. It made his entire body ignite, tongue peeking out to slide along his lower lip.

Tony Stark’s cock. In his face, about to go down his throat.

He made a soft sound, low in his throat, and reached for it as Tony stroked himself slowly, pushing into the curl of his fingers. His cock was on the thicker side, curved and cut and sticky at the tip when Tony made his own guttural sound in response and angled his cock downwards. Peter shuffled, got comfier and without a better range, and tipped his head up, breathing out before he closed his fingers over Tony’s.

He damn near cried at the fact of what he was doing as he shifted, nuzzling up against the underside of his cock and the thick swell of his balls, still confined in his slacks. Tony breathed out heavily above him, cock twitching beneath their grip, and Peter did it again before shuffling backwards further, pulling down until the sticky-wet tip brushed over his parted lips. It was kind of like a gloss, smooth on his lips and mostly tasteless when he licked them, and above him Tony grunted, pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

“Kid, we-”

Peter pushed his head forwards and up, sucking the tip into his mouth like a popsicle and hollowing his cheeks. It worked, anything Tony had been intending to say cut off with a hiss and one of his hands pulling away, down to cup Peter’s cheek while his other squeezed his cock. Peter kept suckling, pressing his tongue flat over the rounded tip for lack of any better ideas. It was big and warm and soft in his mouth, and he briefly imagined in sliding down his throat, filling his mouth.

Several moments of soft sucking passed, and he pulled his head back a little before pushing it back up, copying what he’d seen in porn by sliding the spongy tip in and out of his mouth, licking at it whenever it pushed back between his lips. Tony’s hand stayed on his jaw, gentle and without pressure, but his other hand moved in short, alternating little pumps, stoking the pleasure that Peter offered.

“Is this your first?” Tony whispered above him, and Peter pulled slowly off Tony’s cock, mindful of his teeth as he licked his wet lips and nodded. He didn’t get any response after a brief pause, so he sucked Tony’s tip back into his mouth slowly, flattening his tongue to the bottom of his mouth as he let his lips pop over the flare of the tip, until he began to work at the length. He kept pushing until his neck ached from the angle and it felt like his mouth was too small to take anymore, eyes closed and focused on the feel of it.

Tony’s hand wriggled free from beneath his own, cupping Peter’s jaw gently, thumbs rubbing a circle, before they slid down and back, cupping his head and taking its weight so his neck was no longer straining to hold it up. Peter moved both of his hands up to wrap around what his mouth couldn’t take, not wanting the experience to falter into sub-par. He knew he was nothing compared to the rest of Tony’s long list of lovers, knew it couldn’t be all that great compared to the other countless blowjobs Tony had ever received, but Tony hadn’t stopped him yet, and it spurred him on.

His own cock was achingly neglected as he licked and sucked and nodded his head, doing his best to form a tight, wet, warm sleeve for Tony’s cock, but he squeezed his thighs together and ignored it, focusing on referencing every piece of porn he’d ever seen or read and all of his own jerk-off sessions as he worked Tony’s cock. His mouth and the top of his throat already ached a little, but it was easy to ignore. His arms had burned since the ferry, anyway.

“Fuck, kid” Tony uttered above him softly, stroking through his hair, and Peter gave a muffled sound around his cock in response, high and keening. Tony’s hips jerked forwards and Peter half-gagged in surprise, even though Tony hadn’t moved more than a half-in forwards. It made Tony groan above him, fingers tightening in his hair, and Peter had to squeeze his thighs until they trembled not to reach down and take care of his own drooling length.

He tried to take Tony’s length deeper, pressing his tongue down and pushing his head forwards, but it only went a few more inches in before he was gagging, his throat feeling like it was completely closed off. Tony’s hands were gentle as they pulled him away. “Easy, kid” he soothed above him, tugging a thick handful of curls before Peter sucked in a breath, swallowing around what he could take. He began to move his hands in earnest, mindful of the lack of lube as he applied a little pressure and pumped each time he sucked down.

For all he could swing around all day, he was losing breath quickly at this, though he supposed it was more down to the sheer emotional wring of the situation and the fact that it was his first time. Tony didn’t seem to care either way, grunting above him, fingers tight as he fought the urge not to fuck forwards. It was sloppy, over-careful and inexperienced, but Peter could taste the salt on his tongue, could feel the gooey-thickness of tell-tale precum.

He’d lost count long ago of how long they’d been there, the sounds of the city faded well into the background as Tony twisted his curls around his fingers, as Peter felt the heavy slide of skin over his tongue. He had no idea of how many minutes had passed since they’d started, only focused now on how his panties stuck uncomfortably to the wetness that leaked onto his own hip, on how Tony’s cock seemed to twitch and pulse on his tongue here and there, a sign Peter knew meant Tony was close to orgasm.

He sucked harder, closing his lips over the soft skin, pushing himself until each thrust was uncomfortable and threatened to make him gag again, but Tony was cursing above him, hips stuttering now, single-focused on the wet, warm channel around him. Peter mewled as Tony’s thrusts became sharper, a little less careful of his abilities, and the signs began to culminate. Tony’s heartbeat spiking, his cock suddenly stiffening and seeming to swell over his tongue, a sharp rasp of his name and then a flood of salty, thick cum to the back of his mouth, sliding down his throat so his breath hitched and he spluttered, convulsing around Tony’s cock, Tony, who groaned as fucked forwards, chasing the flex of his throat.

Tony rode his orgasm hard, milking his cock with Peter’s throat until it seemed to relax on his tongue again, hard but not as raging as it had been before, and he slowly began to pull out as Peter snuffled and jolted and swallowed on sore muscles, lips dark and wet and swollen when he finally sucked in a gasp of air, letting Tony’s hands carefully tip his head forwards. He spluttered as he heaved for breath, the taste still rich on his tongue as Tony stooped a little and coaxed him into sitting up, into leaning back against a strong thigh.

“Easy. You did good. You’re...Okay”. It was an awkward but soft attempt, and Peter let his head fall back into Tony’s hip, looking up at him through wet lashes, suddenly hyper-aware of his own undress and his own arousal as Tony’s cock began to slowly soften in his peripheral. Tony looked suddenly stilted and tired, and Peter ducked his head again, bracing himself for the second lecture of the day.

Instead, Tony’s hand slid up into his hair, gentle as he stroked through the messed up curls, tender it slid down his jaw to wipe away a glob of drool from the corner of his mouth.

“I should...Get dressed. Happy won’t be...Happy. With waiting so long. And you’ve probably got stuff to do” Peter whispered after a moment, surprised by how rough and scratchy his voice had become. It almost hurt to talk.

“...No” Tony murmured after a moment, and Peter frowned, head tipping back again. Tony’s gaze, when he met it, looked torn and heartbroken, but determined. Steeled against his own internal rage of emotions.

“No?” He echoed fearfully, dread rising in his gut.

“No” Tony repeated, then looked up and away. “We’re going to get in the car. Fully. And I’m going to show you what a blowjob is meant to be like, while you wear those fucking panties. And then...You’re going to get dressed, and we’re going to go to the Tower. We’ll...Figure this out. Like adults. Reasonable adults. Well. As...Best as an old pervert and a fourteen year old can” Tony breathed, frowning at the end, though Peter’s lips were already curving upwards.

Hope.

“Fifteen” he corrected, like he had on the rooftop, except now he was smiling.

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker cc #starker cu #starker smut #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider cc #ironspider cu #ironspider smut #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark

406 notes · View notes

firefandoming · 5 years

Text

Hey Pro-shippers

There's no such thing as a bad ship

Your ships are valid

#pro shipping #wincest #starker #c 137cest #sebasciel #maxvid #cc maxvid

52 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

Text

How the IMF loan-sharks the global south

When you take out a loan or get a credit card, the headline figure is the “APR” — the annual percentage rate of interest. But anyone who’s ever borrowed because they were poor and needed money has learned the hard way that APRs are pure fiction.

To get the true APR (what economists politely call the “effective” APR) you have to factor in the fees, penalties and other gotchas that turn reasonable seeming interest rates into perennial, inescapable debt-traps.

Take student debt. During the 2020 presidential campaign, we had a debate about student debt forgiveness, whose opponents frequently cited the “unfairness” of allowing people to “escape their responsibilities.”

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

In their telling, student debt forgiveness would reward fecklessness, allowing people who got the benefit of an expensive education to duck the costs.

Now, even if you ignore the farcical inflation in university tuition and expenses (for example, the 1000%+ hike in textbooks driven by ed-tech monopolists), that’s still a highly selective account of how student debt works.

Student debt is negotiated from a position of weakness and naiveté, which allows lenders to attack the poorest grads with incredible fees and penalties. “Chris” took out $79k in student loans in 1982. He’s paid back $190k. He still owes $236k.

https://taibbi.substack.com/p/student-loan-horror-stories-borrowed

That’s not the magic of compound interest. It’s the magic of loan-sharking. If you’ve ever used a payday lender (aka a “fintech startup” AKA a “loan shark”), none of this will be the least bit surprising. This form of usury is as old as Christ casting out the money-changers.

The payday lending industry didn’t invent these tactics, but they refined, automated and industrialized them, then they spent millions at Trump hotels and (in a stunning coincidence) all those tactics were blessed by the US finance regulators.

https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-inc-podcast-payday-lenders-spent-1-million-at-a-trump-resort-and-cashed-in

The normalization of loan-sharking sent the entire finance sector into a race to the bottom. America’s largest banks saw their profits soar during the pandemic due to record overdraft and other fees — in other words, collecting fines for being poor.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/22/ihor-kolomoisky/#usurers

The sums are jaw-dropping. In 2020, Jpmorganchase made $1.5b on overdraft fees, Bank of America made $1.1b and Wells Fargo made $1.3b. The biggest rake came from the worst months of the pandemic.

https://prospect.org/economy/big-banks-charged-billions-in-overdraft-fees-during-pandemic/

78.3% of all overdraft fees come from just 9.2% of bank customers. At $35 a pop, these fees turn the banks’ overdraft facilities into loans with an “effective APR” of 3,500%.

Three thousand.

Five hundred.

Percent.

These are the cold, bloodless numbers of the debt trap. They conceal a vicious cycle in which those with the least pay the most, a cycled that can’t even be outrun in death.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

Take a moment to (re)read Molly McGhee’s Paris Review essay from May 2021, “America’s Dead Souls,” about her mother’s death. McGhee’s mom made less than $10k/year and suffered “debilitating depression while caring for aging parents.”

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

Her mother was haunted by two warring clans of ghouls: debt collectors who harassed her through legal and illegal means, and con artists who located her through databases of struggling debtors and tried to sell her predatory consolidation loans.

48 hours after her mother’s death, these blood-suckers switched to harassing McGhee, as she grieved her loss. Unlike her mother, McGhee had the resiliency and wherewithal (a credit card) to hire a lawyer, whose boilerplate letter reduced the debt by 90%, over $250k, poof.

If you can afford a lawyer, your parents’ debts don’t become yours. If you can’t, you enter a cycle of intergenerational poverty, with each generation sinking deeper into debt.

When you have nothing and owe everything, debt collectors know that they have to terrorize you into putting their bills ahead of the others. The cruelty is literally the point — without it, you might pay your rent ahead of your mother’s old credit-card bills.

To quote Umair Haque, “America is the the world’s first poor rich country.” an “advanced economy” where a sizable portion of the population lives in conditions typical of the global south.

https://eand.co/the-worlds-first-poor-rich-country-c411afc68539

Not for nothing. The same tactics that impoverish the vast American underclass also work to keep the world’s poorest countries — rich in resources and talent — poor. The loan shark here is far more powerful than a payday lender or even JP Morgan — it’s the IMF.

A new report from the Center for Economic and Policy Research dissects the way the IMF uses fees and penalties to trap the poorest countries in the world in unbreakable cycles of debt — fees that drive up the IMF’s notional APR to dizzying, usurious heights.

https://cepr.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/IMF-Surcharge-Report-2.pdf

Like any predatory loan, these “surcharges” are levied against the countries that have the least ability to repay. They target countries whose debt:GDP ratio passes an arbitrary line. For the poorest IMF debtors, surcharges account for 45% of all non-principle repayment.

These numbers add up. In Egypt, surcharges gobbled up $1.8b between 2019–24 — triple the cost of fully vaccinating the whole country. Small wonder that the world’s 64 poorest countries spend more on external debt payment than they do on their own health care.

In its defense, the IMF offers the same tissue-thin responses that any arm-breaker offers. The claim that penalties and fees are a way to “incentivize” debtor nations not to overborrow, and to seek their credit from the private finance sector.

But these countries are borrowing to pay off their debts — often debts that date back to colonial times, in which the rich (white) world mercilessly looted their resources and fomented destabilizing political divisions.

This undermined domestic resistance to imperialism and allowed kleptocratic, corrupt leaders to thrive — leaders who borrowed heavily to finance vanity projects, corrupt enrichment of domestic elites, and militarized suppression of opposition movements.

All of that was funded by debts, often from the IMF, who tied lending to the dismantling and sell-off of state enterprises, from power to water to sanitation — which is how the world’s poorest get gouged by the world’s richest to drink their own water.

These countries don’t borrow because they want to live outside their means — they borrow because they want to live. They don’t borrow from the IMF because they’re too lazy to ask a multinational bank for credit — they borrow because they can’t get credit elsewhere.

But the IMF has another excuse for this: they claim that the fees they extract allow them to originate more loans, creating a virtuous cycle. But as the report makes clear, this is absurd on its face.

The IMF went into the pandemic boasting about $1 trillion in “firepower” (that’s creepy-cutesey IMFspeak for “cash reserves”). Meanwhile, the annual revenues from these fees is $1b — that’s three orders of magnitude less than that “firepower.”

That means that the IMF could simply give up on these punitive fees, levied against the poorest people in the world, at an annual cost of 0.01% of its reserves. Literally, the cruelty is the point.

The point of all of this? The victims of usury are all in the same boat — in the USA and around the world. The same tactics, the same excuses, the same misery, from Cairo to the Caribbean to Cleveland.

Not all debt is created equal, of course. If you’re Elon Musk or Peter Thiel, you can get sweetheart loans and roll overs that let you avoid almost all taxation through the fiction that you earn no income, even as you amass hundreds of billions.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/08/leona-helmsley-was-a-pioneer/#eat-the-rich

And of course, if you’re a government with debts denominated in the currency you issue, it’s not really “debt” at all — the only way the US government can run out of dollars is by ordering its employees not to type more dollars into existence in a central bank spreadsheet.

Indeed, you couldn’t ask for a starker example of the difference between monetarily sovereign nations and postcolonial countries that owe debts in the currencies of their former conquerors. Venezuela can’t spend its way out of US dollar debt by creating bolivars.

Like McGhee’s mother, whose debts turned out to be fictions that disappeared as soon as a professional with credentials and access to the levers of power printed out a boilerplate letter, these countries’ debts are cruel fictions.

The powerful and wealthy can indulge these fictions or ignore them, as they choose. For example, finance-friendly politicians can insist that the “debt ceiling” must not be raised, for political purposes.

When the US declines to do the trivial data-entry that would make the money to pay its sovereign “debts,” the consumption that the money would have funded still takes place — financed not by the democratic state, but rather by a loan-shark.

National financial “prudence” interrupts the normal and benign process of sovereign money-creation, opening space for usury — private borrowing from the vampires and ghouls whose 3,500% APRs are redeemed through terror.

The cruelty is the point.

Image: Sbw01f (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Developed_and_developing_countries.PNG

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Image: А. Н. Миронов https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:%D0%98%D0%B7%D0%B3%D0%BD%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B8%D0%B5_%D1%82%D0%BE%D1%80%D0%B3%D1%83%D1%8E%D1%89%D0%B8%D1%85_%D0%B8%D0%B7_%D1%85%D1%80%D0%B0%D0%BC%D0%B0._XXI_%D0%B2%D0%B5%D0%BA.jpg

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

44 notes · View notes

inky-thoughts · 5 years

Note

Hello there! I read all of your how to zine thing and I've been thinking how to organize a portfolio online... Do you have any suggestions or tutorials on how to do one? I use Google drive but I don't like it anymore (it seems unprofessional) so I was wondering if you have any tips óvò thank you in advance and sorry for my English!!

aaaa it’s ok I’m no native English speaker either, so don’t worry!!

For your question, I personally have started using the Adobe Portfolio (it seems to be free?) as I have the Adobe CC for uni purposes and thus already an Adobe account. I innicially wanted to have it for design stuff only but then discovered I could make a second portfolio so I made one for my internet illustration/art stuff as well and used it as portfolio for zines (idk if it interests you but in case you want some inspiration, here’s the link.) I’m still kinda unsatisfied as it doesn’t really have a gallery option where you can click through the images individually, it really is catered to mobile users and the images look uncomfortably large on the desktop for me, but in general building them is kind of intuitive even if the layout options are rather limited.

I personally don’t have much experience with other portfolio websites (I only tried deviantart’s portfolio before and wasn’t really satisfied with it either, but that’s been years ago.) I would recommend doing some research (maybe some of my followers also has suggestions?) and maybe also consider using a general website from a website builder like weebly or wix (I think there are also free options?) as they are a bit more flexible in their layout.

EDIT: I added a list with some website builders and portfolio websites on the How to Apply post, if any of you have more suggestions, I’ll add them to the list as well. Just a note that I don’t have experience with every website on the list.

Some of my study friends also from other universities used a PDF file with their best works and sent that to agencies, so that might be an option, too, especially if you’re only allowed to a very limited number of pieces. With programs like InDesign it’s fairly easy to make a cohesive and nicely designed PDF (I recently got some suggestions for similar programs as a lot of people suffer from Adobe raising their CC prices but I haven’t tried any of them so I can’t vouch for them.)

For me, it largely depends on what specifically the portfolio is for.If I were to apply for an agency job, I’d try to fit in as much of my range as possible while still trying to focus on what the specific job is for. I think that tactic works for zines as well, even though it’s more illustration-heavy than necessarily corporate or editiorial design. I started to categorise my works more by projects/purpose so that the individual concepts are gathered together instead of having “sketches” “illustrations” “typography” etc. as throughout time, you’ll get more and more interdisciplinatory projects so you can’t sort them that easily. Of course you can sort them also on the main focus for the individual projects (a magazine might be sorted into editorial or typography for example.)

I made an extra category for my comic project to have everything together, currently most of them are just some illustrations but I’ll add more concept art and stuff like that later on.I also like displaying commission or zine works in a seperate category so it’s easier to see what people can expect from hireing me, plus it also shows that I actually already have experience with zines and commissioned work. Of course you don’t need to put all your commissions/zine works into it, especially if you don’t like them/don’t find the result very pleasing anymore. A portfolio is always courating your own works by what you consider your personal qualities.

As I already have mentioned in the portfolio post, I also try to kick out works that are older than 3 years from the portfolio staples that I use when zines only ask for a few of my best pieces (like 3-5) but I keep them in my online portfolio site if I still like them on a general basis, especially if the style is something I still can pull off. I also never use pieces I never published anywhere online so I usually just link to the tumblr post if there’s only a limited number of pieces allowed. I just try to keep my tumblr organised and aesthetically pleasing and check if all the links still work.

For the layout, I recommend using something simple and neutral as the work itself should be the focus, not the very fancy design around it. This especially should be the case if you want to display several styles and/or moods/colour schemes. If your style is very pastell-y and cute, of course a more cute and pastel design compliments it well. But if you also have very dark colours and for example gory designs, it most likely will clash with the works and thus isn’t a very wise descision. Safe colours are always white and any completely desaturated greys that are somewhere in the lighter and mid-range shades. Black can look good, too, but imo should be handled with a bit more care. I probably would recommend a darker grey instead as it doesn’t swallow too much light. You want your work to pop but having too much contrast between your work and the background can also get uncomfortable for the eye.

I also would recommend not using too fancy and playful fonts as they easily distract you from the actual work. I also wouldn’t use Times New Roman and Arial as they aren’t very comfortable to read (and don’t have a very good design.) Calibri is always a very safe and well-designed font that most likely is an option everywhere, but of course just look through the font options and test what suits your works the best.When picking a font colour, please always check the contrast to the background, especially when you use more saturated colours. I also wouldn’t recommend using 100% saturated colours as they are also very uncomfortable for the eye.My prime example of very little readability is bright red on pitch black background. It’s one of the most uncomfortable combinations to read as red is very aggressive to the eye and through the very high saturation also is difficult to distinguish in front of the very dominant black. Having a red-ish grey would work much better, especially if it’s a lighter shade, and not using black but a darker grey would take away the tension as well. Just play around a bit until you get to a visually satisfying result.

Always be aware that starker contrasts also always draw the eye, so you want the most contrast in your works and not in what surrounds them. If you have especially light works with maybe a very delicate lineart and little contrast, you might want to use a white, pastel colour or light grey with a fairly light font (that still has enough contrast to the background to be readible)

The most general advice I can give is focussing on displaying your works and not distracting from them. I would try to have a very simple and cohesive site that puts everything together in a harmonizing way and also doesn’t have too many subcategories so that navigation is easy and smooth.

I hope that helped in some way? ^^;

#htoaz101 ask #portfolio #portfolio advice #how to organize a zine 101 #zine portfolio #anon #ask

8 notes · View notes

deathbysatellite · 2 years

Text

Since my TS3 lepacy runs much smoother than other saves due to only having the base game enabled, and having removed CC and most mods, I decided to try playing it with the graphic settings turned all the way up. Not only does that save still run pretty smoothly (although objects do take a little longer to load), but the game looks gorgeous now!

I mean look at this!

Look at how detailed the landscape is now! Granted, I do have lighting mods which create starker shadows, but it still looks much nicer than with the previous graphic settings!

The Sims' faces look much smoother! And look at the detail in the lace!

Objects look much smoother and more detailed! And it's so nice having nearby lots in detail!

Even the plants look nicer, and they're typically the worst looking thing in the game! I am honestly in awe over how nice the game looks!

#sims 3 #ts3 #gameplay

0 notes

finntaur · 3 years

Note

What is the worst url you’ve seen to memory on this site

I have them blocked, so they definitely won’t find this but, one of the worst ones is starkeraddictbaby.

Anything to do with cc!beeduo shipping and/or starker will immediately get a 🤮 from me djjdjd

#ask #rocky #thanks for the ask!

0 notes

cctinsley · 6 years

Note

what episode is cc tinsley from bc i cannot remember and it's driving me starkers

the disappearance of the sodder children!

12 notes · View notes

starkeristheendgame · 4 years

Note

Welcome back! I wanna share my personal head canon also a prompt for you: it took Peter a while to figure out his Peter tingle can sense when somebody wants to fuck him. Even if he sensed that around the most unexpected people all the time, like Flash, his PE teacher, or some villains he's fighting, he didn't think he would ever have the 'sexy' tingle when Tony Stark was in the same room.

I chuckled probably a little too hard at ‘sexy tingle’ but it is absolutely what Peter would call it! This isn’t smut based, I’m so sorry, but I felt like this prompt had major fluff/feels/crack vibes. I really hope this is okay and that you enjoy it! Major props for such a creative and possibility-filled idea!

Getting bitten by a genetically altered, radioactive spider just kept getting weirder. And each time Peter thought that he was getting used to it, or each time he felt like maybe, finally, he’d discovered all of his abilities, something else sprang up and slapped him in the face.

And to say nothing of actually learning how to use and balance the abilities he knew he had. His ‘danger tingle’ apparently took frequent pee breaks, because he could sense a bad guy lurking in an alley, but couldn’t send the very resilient apple that Aunt May lobbed at his head.

And then came The Other Thing.

It wasn’t really a tingle. It was more like a thrum. Bone-deep and reaching every nerve, almost like anticipation or excitement. It seemed to be completely and utterly random, and it infuriated Peter to no end.

The sorta cute girl that stacked the shelves at his local small grocer set it off. The hot substitute tutor they had for PE when Coach Wilson sprained his ankle. Here and there on the streets in brief flashes. Peter tried his best to scope the scene each time, to see if he could spot danger, or if they were mutants or someone with powers, but...

Nothing.

Worst of all, though, was Mr. Stark.

It was constant, around him. Each time he was in the vicinity, that warming sensation flooded him, and it only made it that much more frustrating, because Tony being Tony meant it was next to impossible to try and find a connecting factor between them all.

Anything that Mr. Stark was, the others weren’t. Except for the other Avengers. The thrum was less with them, but still existent. It made correlating the various people almost impossible.

Until they started to correlate themselves.

Peter was trying to figure out the difference between ‘ethnic taco seasoning’ and ‘blended taco seasoning’ when his senses gave a brief ping and a thrum, and someone tapped him on the shoulder. Peter turned to see the girl who stacked the shelves, and she thrust a piece of paper at him before running off.

It was her number.

And a week later, when Flash tried to start an actual fight with him on the grass; they were rolling around as Peter tried desperately to keep his powers to heel, and the thrum was almost a vibration when they came to a halt, Peter nearly punching himself in the face when he realised that Flash was hard against his thigh.

Catching Mr. Barton’s gaze on the flex of his thighs, half-lidded and dangerous.

Peter is in the lab when he makes the connection, head lifting with abject horror, holo-pen and thus the rest of his design clattering to the worktop with such sudden disturbance that two benches over, Mr. Stark jolted with a yell, jerk-reaction throwing his solder iron across the room.

“The Hell, kid?” the older man grumbled, pushing off his stool to retrieve it before it burned another mark on the floor. Peter moved before he could even really permit his legs to do anything, and when Mr. Stark turned to find him mere inches away he jerked with another curse, solder iron brandished like a weapon.

“Jesus Christ, kid!” the older man huffed, lowering the solder iron with an exasperated expression. Peter paid it no heed, eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to focus on comparing how Mr. Stark acted to the idle thrum deep under his skin.

A thrum. A tingle.

A sexy tingle.

Mr. Stark was eyeing him suspiciously now, one brow lifting high when Peter rounded a pointed, accusatory finger at him.

“You give me a sexy tingle!” he announced, and Mr. Stark looked more than a little mollified.

“I’m... Flattered?”

“What? No,” Peter relaxed, dropping the finger and putting his hands on his hips as he tipped his chin up at his mentor. “A sexy tingle. You give me a sexy tingle, which means you wanna sexy... Me.” He finished lamely, realised he’d kinda mashed that sentence up a little, but hoping that it got through.

Judging by the thing Mr. Stark’s face did, which happened to be the exact same thing it did whenever Pepper found out he’d done something she’d specifically warned him against, Peter wasn’t far off.

Mr. Stark opened his mouth, closed it, frowned and scowled at once, and then moved to walk past Peter. Midway through his third step there was a soft thwip and he stumbled, head slowly looking to the side and down to see where his leg, from thigh to just below the knee, was stuck to the leg of a workbench.

The look he landed Peter over his shoulder was not at all unlike that he had given him the first time they’d met and Peter had web-glued him to the doorknob.

“Sexy tingle,” Peter insisted, erring on the side of desperate, because this was Tony fucking Stark. Peter’s hero since the first moment he’d ever laid eyes on the red and gold suit, and Peter’s crush since the first time he looked at Mr. Stark’s PlayGirl cover and popped his first ever stiffy.

Mr. Stark’s expression pinched.

“You really have to think of a different name for it, kid,” he sighed, reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. In his moment of distraction Peter walked closer, rounding the trapped man, who eyed him warily, like he was expecting Peter to whip out a nude and demand blackmail.

“It means you like me. That you wanna... Be with me,” Peter murmured, confidence suddenly failing him. What if he was wrong? What if it was sheer coincidence, the others? But one look into Mr. Stark’s resigned eyes and he knew.

“Of course I like you. You’re practically a younger, less dignified, less rich me,” Tony shot at him, tone jovial as though trying to sway the conversation to a lighter, more platonic track. Peter narrowed his eyes, then slumped.

“So you... Don’t wanna? Me, I mean,” Peter flustered, hands gesturing wildly. The look Tony levelled him with was thoroughly judgemental.

“I’m not used to this,” he excused miserably, and reached for a scalpel to free his mentor. As he stretched, a large hand wrapped around his wrist, pausing.

“If it wouldn’t make me the worlds biggest creep, kid, I would,” Mr. Stark breathed, so quietly that Peter almost doubted he’d heard it at all. Peter couldn’t fight the dazzling smile that bared his teeth and made his cheeks dimple, so blindsided that Mr. Stark had to gesture to remind him of his previous task.

By eight o’clock that night, Operation Sexy Tingle Mr. Stark was in full swing.

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker drabble #starker cu #starker cc #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider drabble #ironspider cu #ironspider cc #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #sie fics

590 notes · View notes

starkerisendgame · 4 years

Photo

On a very wholesome note, this is my first post (on my Starker accounts) to reach over 1,000 notes! It is also now on the top row of the ‘most popular’ search function!

Honestly, you guys, I cannot express how much this means to me and how honoured and overjoyed this makes me feel. When I wrote that fic it was a spur-of-the-moment, offhand thing based upon anti hate and ramblings within the darling Starker groupchat, and I never expected it to hit off as much as it did.

You guys are awesome, and the best!

On a side note, this work is also roughly canon-based (the Civil War meeting scene) and features no Daddy kink/feminisation so is a safe read if you’re looking for more canon based content!

#starker #starker fic #starker fanfic #starker fanfiction #starker cc #starker cu #starker kink #ironspider #ironspider fic #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider cc #ironspider cu #ironspider kink #thank you all #starker fam #ironspider fam #starker love #ironspider love

40 notes · View notes

bigyack-com · 4 years

Text

Decoding Indian economy 2010-19: From external to domestic shocks - india news

Before the global financial crisis hit the US economy in 2008, which soon converted itself into a global economic slowdown, the Indian economy had been growing at 8% (in constant dollar terms) for five consecutive years. At a time when the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) has projected India’s GDP growth to be 5% for the current fiscal year, and the economy has been losing growth momentum for six consecutive quarters, the pre-crisis economic performance seems like a dream run. Back then, however, most people believed that the best was yet to come for the Indian economy. In the years India was growing at 8%, the Chinese economy was accelerating at double digit rates. Putting the economy in a sustained double digit trajectory was the cherished policy goal, even after the global economic crisis had disrupted the global economy. “The first challenge before us is to quickly revert to the high GDP growth path of 9% and then find the means to cross the ‘double digit growth barrier”, the then finance minister Pranab Mukherjee said in his budget speech in 2010. Such targets seem quite unrealistic today. Growth rates have gone down globally in the post-crisis world. The world economy has not been able to achieve its pre-crisis growth trajectory even a decade after the crisis. China, which was growing in double digits, grew at just 6% in 2018. India’s GDP growth in 2018-19 (in constant rupees) was 6.8%, the lowest since 2014-15. Most institutional and private forecasts, including that of the RBI, see the Indian economy growing at 5%, or perhaps even less in 2019-20. (See Chart 1: India, China and World growth rates.) Even the government seems to have moderated its growth expectations for the Indian economy. This year’s Economic Survey, for example, says that India needs to sustain a real GDP growth rate of 8% in order to become a $5 trillion economy by 2024-25. These stylised facts about the last decade raise a fundamental question about the Indian economy. Should India reconcile itself to the fact that it can never achieve the kind of economic growth it aspired for less than a decade ago? Answering this question requires a holistic assessment of how things have changed both within and outside the Indian economy. To be sure, the recent deceleration in GDP growth is not unprecedented in India. If the Indian economy ends up with a 5% growth in 2019-20, it will be similar to how it performed in the beginning of the decade. GDP growth was 5.2% and 5.5% in 2011-12 and 2012-13. However, there is a significant difference in the low growth phase at the beginning of the decade and the one we are facing today. This difference is inflation. The low growth phase during the beginning of the current decade was accompanied by double digit inflation. Notwithstanding the recent spike, inflation rates today are less than half of what they were eight-nine years ago. The difference is even starker if one looks at core inflation i.e. inflation without food and fuel.(See Chart 2: Quarterly growth in inflation and GDP in India.) The short point is that the challenges facing the Indian economy have changed drastically in a span of less than a decade. We started the decade with fears of stagflation – a low growth high inflation phase – and are finishing it surrounded by threats of a recessionary – a low growth low inflation phase – grip on the economy. This also means that the basic constraint facing the economy has moved from a supply side one to a demand side one. The main reason for high inflation in an economy is its inability to meet the demand for goods and services being used for economic activity. The reverse holds true when inflation starts declining, when economic agents; both consumers and producers (who also buy raw materials, etc) are not buying enough to clear the supply in the market. Core inflation trends are a better metric of the supply versus demand side constraint in an economy as it is immune from seasonal shocks to agricultural production, such as the current onion price spike due to crop destruction, and exogenous shocks such as crude oil prices. How did India end up with a demand side problem to growth within less than a decade of supply side bottlenecks bringing down growth and pushing up inflation? This is the most important economic story that has played out in the last decade.

Three factors have played a major role in this. Export markets are not growing as fast as they used to. Annual export growth in dollar terms in the last decade was mostly above the 20% mark, it has more than halved for most parts of the present decade. This has almost killed an important growth engine for the Indian economy. (See Chart 3: Export growth) Many entrepreneurs had overleveraged themselves in the hope that the pre-crisis boom would last forever. When the crisis punctured these hopes, these borrowers and their lenders; primarily banks, had a huge crisis on their hands, which created a vicious cycle of sorts. Already saddled with debt, the entrepreneurs could not borrow to invest more, and with their capital locked up in bad debt, the banks found it difficult to lend to even worthy borrowers. This is also referred to as the Twin Balance Sheet crisis in the Indian economy. While the primary trigger for the crisis was ‘irrational exuberance’, poor governance structures in banks, which created incentives for unscrupulous financial practices, also compounded this problem. At a time when these headwinds were being generated in the Indian economy, political economy took a significant turn in India. In 2014, the Congress-led United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government lost power to the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). The latter had exploited high inflation (as discussed above) and allegations of corruption against the UPA government to the hilt in its election campaign. So it was only natural that these two issues were crucial in driving its policy agenda. The BJP-led government adopted inflation targeting as the guiding principle of monetary policy and was particularly keen to control food prices, as can be seen by meagre increases in Minimum Support Prices for large part of the first Narendra Modi government. In 2016, the government announced demonetisation to purge unaccounted income stored in cash. While almost all of the money came back to the financial system, the policy inflicted a massive disruption to economic activity, especially in the cash-dependent informal economy. Even as the economy was recovering from this shock, the government rolled out the Goods and Services Tax (GST) in July 2017, which significantly increased the cost of doing business for informal and small businesses. As of now, the GST does not seem to have delivered on its promise of augmenting tax revenues. The Centre’s GST collections missed their target by Rs 1 lakh crore in 2018-19. Both these policies, however, dealt a big blow to the economy, which was slowly recovering from its supply side troubles which emerged earlier in the decade. This is best captured by the RBI’s Consumer Confidence Surveys (CCS), which are conducted in 13 major cities in the country. The CCS shows that net perception on general economic situation and employment have gone downhill in the post-demonetisation phase. This eventually has also brought down demand, which can be seen from the decline in non-essential spending metric in the CCS. (See Chart 4: RBI CCS) For India to make a recovery, the first pre-requisite is a policy realisation that reviving domestic aggregate demand in the economy is a bigger short-term challenge than controlling inflation or adhering to fiscal targets. Unless this happens, the ghosts of past stagflation and potential political gains from being perceived as tough on corruption would continue to drive policy in a direction where the Indian economy might be stuck with a recessionary environment Read the full article

0 notes