#and she can afford to retire

[zonotrichia-albicollis]

I didn’t even like my great aunt very much. I always called her my Fox News aunt. She got weird and distant during covid and I just assumed it was because she was a Republican.

Then last year when she totally cut us off I assumed it was because she was transphobic because. I have 3 trans sisters and she’s a Republican.

But now I know that she was opening bank accounts with this random man all the way back in 2020. She was believing all these insane rumors he told her about us stealing from her or accusing her of affairs or even weirder stuff I don’t want to get into.

And she stopped hanging out with her friends too, not just us. Even her best friends who were at Christmas dinner every year my whole life, she stopped spending time with anyone except this creep and his (probably abused) longterm girlfriend.

I didn’t even like her. But the more I’m digging into this stuff, the more I’m realizing that the person I didn’t like wasn’t even really her anymore. I wrote her off when she was getting taken advantage of. I’m an Alzheimer’s geneticist and I’ve read so much about elder abuse and all I did was go “huh that’s kinda suspicious” when she signed over her estate to this guy.

And now she died believing my grandma hated her. and grandma has to live with the knowledge that her dying sister was taken advantage of by the handyman that grandma introduced her to. and it’s too late for any of us to do anything about it.

Giant personal vent time

This guy stole somewhere between 3 to 6 MILLION dollars from my grandmother by conning my great aunt into signing over her estate and medical & financial power of attorney to him literally on her death bed

I and my aunt have been working basically a whole second job the last 3 months trying to get together a legal case to go after this guy. And now my grandma wants to drop it. And no one else has standing so what the fuck can we do.

This man has absolutely done this to other ppl before, there is no doubt in my mind. I’ve seen his property records for just what’s publicly available in my county and it’s sketchy as hell. I am never going to get over this but there’s nothing I can do.

Gonna put like a million more thoughts in the tags because I’m losing my fucking mind.

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[clamsjams]

if u make a one piece college au and u don’t make all of the strawhats students then u r a fucking coward

[breelandwalker]

Grumpy Coworker back at it again making passive-aggressive "unprofessional behavior" comments at me for quietly giggling at podcasts as if her dumb ass wasn't over there all morning trashing our colleagues on a personal phone call IN FRONT OF THE OPEN HALLWAY DOOR.

Ma'am. I JUST had to clean up the mess you caused by blowing off a VIP guest because you can't be arsed to read your emails. Lower your voice when you speak to me.

[sezja]

One of my favorite coworkers retired today and my weekends are going to suck now

[lacefuneral]

the chronic pain is so bad rn i need back massage forever. please

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

[teaboot]

My brother tells me I spoil my cat

And he's right

But the thing is, when my mom was my age, she had a husband, a full time job, and a child in kindergarten. She was saving up for me to go to school, for her to retire, for us to get a house.

I have a full time job, and a dumpy apartment. I've been through college debt. Houses cost more than my gross annual income several times over. I have no time or energy to date and I'm not super interested anyway, and there's no way in hell I can afford to raise a kid on my own even if I made one myself, so there's no diapers or clothes or schooling or daycare to pay for.

I dont make a lot of money, not enough to live a traditional image of success, but I can certainly afford to treat a small hairy beast like absolute royalty for the 15-20 years he'll be alive.

And I'll probably never be able to retire, but you know what's cheaper than retirement? Personalized kitty towels

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP: Travel Buddy

"I already told you I'm not going to another country! I'm going to New Mexico!" The shout echoes with frustration across the airport. Dick looks up from his phone to where a man is arguing with a woman behind a counter. She has a pinched grimace on her face, an expression only those who have worked in customer service are familiar with.

It's the look of someone who dances on the line of "I don't need to up with this bullshit. I don't need this job" and "Think of your bills, think of your check, stay calm."

There is a long line behind him, where everyone is making faces at the delay.

Dick often preferred to travel with Justice League tech, as nothing beat the speed of instant teleportation, but he needed to have some records of traveling the normal for his civilian identity. It would be suspicious if he was seen worldwide with no signs of how he got there.

It was a necessary evil to have his loveable wanderlust persona that was Dick Grayson-Wayne. He had taken a few aspects of Brucie Wayne but replaced the playboy reputation with a restlessness that couldn't stand being in one place for too long.

Growing up with people constantly pointing out how attractive he was, which would have been fine were it not for the rich old men and women who leered at him through his teen years. He could not stomach being a playboy, allowing those who objectified him to think he enjoyed their attention.

It was easier to be the easily distracted, pretty son who was always away from home instead. It helped that Bruce had plenty of private jets to gift his son for whatever whimsy urge to move hit him. That was why he was in Illinois today.

Dick's jet had needed to stop for some fuel, and like most commercial airlines, they were told that they needed to wait before heading up again. They may have enough money to afford their own planes, but commercial planes have the right of way.

Then a storm was reported at Gotham Airlines, and his pilot told Dick they were grounded until it cleared up. It could be a delay of six hours.

Dick didn't mind, having told his staff to take a break. If it got too bad, he would buy everyone a hotel room to try again tomorrow. His private jet staff seemed stunned by the offer, insisting they could wait to see if it was clear enough to fly in a few hours.

He had decided he wanted to have some crappy airport snacks, as it was part of the experience, and walked around the airport munching on his chocolate donut. He found a little booth selling local coffee, prompting him to find a seat near the welcome counter and scroll through his phone.

He still had three hours to kill, so he considered exploring the area a little. I suggest finding some hotels just in case. There was little in this place. The closest city was Amity Park, but it was only beside the mall and a decent burger joint; there was little to do.

It was one of those small towns that, despite not having many people, was well spread out due to all the open spaces. The people who lived there either raised a family, retired or had bloodlines traced generations back to the town's founding.

"Sir, as I stated before, you need a passport, and you have to pay for an international ticket to go to Mexico," The woman hissed. Some people in line began muttering about how annoying the man was for arguing.

"All I have is my driver's license. I could go home for my passport. That's no issue, but I am not paying for an international ticket to Mexico when I am not going there! I'm staying in the US! New Mexico is a state!" the man shouts, flailing his long black trenchcoat. It makes the black ponytail swing side to side as he leans on the counter. "How do you work in travel and not know that!?"

"What is going on here?" A man demands, stepping beside the gumming woman. Dick can tell he is the manager just by the way his uniform looks different.

"This man is refusing to listen." The counter lady practically spits and is now leaning well over the "I don't need this job" side of the customer service line. Dick finds himself standing up as the manager gets a quick rundown of the problem.

The crowd was getting impatient, even with the two other representatives slowly calling up the next customer. Curious by the outcome, Dick drifts closer, listening to the man explain that he wants to go to New Mexico to study the enormous reports of violent paranormal sightings.

He was apparently visiting all highly haunted states in the US to write a book about the history of the hauntings, but when he was attempting to get his ticket, the woman had been convinced he was leaving the country. Dick watched in real-time as the manager also seemed to think New Mexico was in Mexico because he began to explain the international policy to the fuming man.

They threatened to put him on the no-fly list if he continued causing them trouble. That angered the traveler even more, and he raised his voice and waved his arms as he insisted the location be within the country.

Dick pulls out his phone, typing with one thumb quickly and pulling up a map of the country. He slid right next to the trio, standing at the stranger's left with an easy smile.

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time?" He asks

The woman's frustration is now nearing its tipping point, but the manager must have recognized him, for he hastily scrambles to make his expression more pleasant.

"Mr. Grayson-Wayne! Please give me one moment to sort this out. I can help you if that's okay with you. I'm sorry for the delay. Karen, call security to have this man escorted out."

"What!?" Demands the guy as the woman grins.

"With pleasure."

"New Mexico is a US state, " Dick cuts in, displaying his screen. "It's been one since 1912, I'm afraid."

The airline employees are pale as they stare at his phone before the manager pulls it out of his pocket and types rapidly on it. A few seconds later, his already white face goes even whiter.

Dick considers the man next to him, who has a grin starting to bloom on his face. It's a pretty handsome face if he's honest. A dig has him looking away towards his phone.

It's a message from his pilot. It seems the storm was due to Mr. Freeze, and they weren't expecting it to clear for at least four days. He was asking if there was anywhere else Dick wanted to fly to.

"I'm so sorry. I'll bump you up to first class." The manager says to the stranger, who is looking rather smug now. Dick considers his pilot's question before thinking, why not.

He does have an image to uphold, after all.

"Would you like a ride in my private jet? " Dick turns to the man, who blinks at him while cutting off the rambling of the woman and the manger. "I can drop you off wherever you want in New Mexico. Where were you headed?"

"Ugh, I wanted to visit Dawnson Cemetry, " the man stammers. "I-do you really have a private jet?"

"Yeah. Would you like to go with me?"

There is a moment of hesitation before the man grabs his wallet off the counter and nods. "If it's not too much trouble," he responds cautiously.

"It's not. I'm Dick Grayson-Wayne, by the way."

"Danny Fenton."

Dick waves the two employees away, winking at them as they slump in relief that Danny doesn't seem to want to make this into an incident. Likely, he had just been upset they weren't listening.

"Most haunted places in the US, huh?" Dick asks while sending a text to his crew. He gets confirmation that they can head over to the southwest post haste. "Aren't you scared of ghosts?"

Danny gives an odd little smirk. "I haven't been afraid of ghosts since I was fourteen."

Dick stares at his mouth a little too long, swinging his gaze back to his phone when he gets a message from Bruce. His dad had been informed of the flight change and was using the coded message to confirm Dick being the one to change it.

He types out a response, ignoring the fluttering of his heart. If he checks to see what other states are highly haunted as Danny looks around his jet with a fallen jaw, that's only because he has four days to kill.

[reasonsforhope]

"In short: Thailand's Senate has approved a bill legalising same sex marriage in the South-East Asian country.

It will afford same-sex couples practical benefits such as being able to have children through IVF and make emergency medical decisions for their spouse.

What's next? The first weddings may take place later this year, 120 days after the law is announced in the Royal Gazette.

Thailand has become the first nation in South-East Asia to legalise same sex marriage, with the country's Senate approving the landmark bill this afternoon.

The legislation was expected to pass after it cleared the country's House of Representatives in a near-unanimous vote in March.

Despite Thailand's bustling gay bars and prominent transgender community making it a mecca for LGBTQ+ tourists, until now local same-sex couples there have been unable to marry.

The law will take effect 120 days after its announcement in the Royal Gazette, so the first same sex weddings may take place later this year.

Couples who have been waiting years have hailed the move as a historic moment that will afford them rights only reserved for spouses.

A Lifechanging Law

Photos of Anticha and Worawan [including the article picture], dressed in floor-length white gowns and trailed by rainbow flags, getting married at Bangkok's first Pride Festival two years ago went viral, but they are still not legally married.

Now they will be able to change that, and Anticha Sangchai is elated.

"This will change my life and change many Thai people's lives, especially in the LGBT community," she said.

"It is a historical moment and I really want to join with my community to celebrate this moment.

"I want to send a message to the world that Thailand has changed. Even though there are still many issues, this is a big step for us." ...

There were an estimated 3.7 million LGBT people in Thailand in 2022, according to LGBT Capital, a private company which models economic data pertaining to the community around the world.

For the young couple from Bangkok, being able to marry also has very real practical implications.

If they want to have children through IVF, Ms Sangchai says they will need a marriage certificate first.

"I am quite concerned about the time because we are getting older every day, and the older you get the more difficult it is to have a healthy pregnancy," she said.

"So we've been really wanting this law to pass as soon as possible."

Cabaret performer Jena is excited Thailand's laws are finally catching up with the nation's image...

She too had worried about the practical implications of being unable to marry.

"For example, if myself or my partner had to go to hospital or there was an accident that needs consent for an emergency operation, without a marriage certificate we couldn't sign it," she said.

She now wants the government to move forward with a law to allow transgender people to amend their gender on official documents." ...

An Economic Boost?

Thailand has long been famous for LGBTQ tourism and there are now hopes this new law could allow the country to cash in on the aging members of the community.

Chaiwat Songsiriphan, who runs a health clinic for people in the LGBTQ community, said laws preventing same sex marriage were the last barrier holding the country back from becoming a gay retirement hub.

[Note: They do not just mean for rich westerners; Thailand as a gay retirement hub would probably appeal most to and definitely benefit LGBTQ people from throughout Asia.]

"Thailand has an LGBTQ-friendly environment since Thai culture is quite flexible," he said.

"One of my foreigner friends, a gay friend, told me that when he's in his country he has to pretend to be straight … but when he comes to Bangkok he said you can be as gay as you want.

"When we talk about retirement or a long-term stay for the rest of their lives, what people need is … food, good healthcare services, transportation, homes.

"I think Thailand has it all at a very affordable price."

He said it could help give the country a desperately needed economic boost.

"This will have a lot of benefits for Thailand's economy because when we talk about retirement it's people literally bringing all the money they have earned for the rest of their working lives to spend and invest here," he said.

He said he, like the rest of the community, was thrilled by the news.

"It's not about a privilege, it's just equality," he said.

"We are we also humans, so we should be able to marry the one we love.""

-via ABC Australia, June 18, 2024

[3liza]

i mean the truth is that we do not need and should not have all this stupid plastic clutter in or houses. no one should be producing or selling this shit. everyone make your own merchandise and charge a living hourly wage to sell it 🤷 sorry to be so simplistic about this but it's one of the results of the lack of class unity specifically in the means of production-owning creative class, who is not mentioned or dealt with by the core Marxist texts as far as I know (i asked about this earlier on here, did marx ever address in his analysis people like, for example, a professional photographer who owns a camera ans prints his own dagguereotypes? or a portrait painter or idk, independent milliner or seamstress? these people all own the means of production and do not employ anyone, and the answer from better educated people than I was that no, Marx didn't mention them), I'm not well read on this at all, there is just a big void where leftist analysis of what modern economists call "the creative class"

I'm getting off topic. my point is make your own keychains in your kitchen. it's actually not hard. you can even mass produce (on a small scale) little plastic crap if you want, with resin and a UV lamp, or a 3d printer, or a laser cutter and acrylic sheets (or just use balsa wood damn, at least its biodegradable and less tacky).

all this stuff is available to little creators AND there are hundreds of people who already own these machines who will take work for you and produce your designs. you just have to actually find them and know them and email them. that's what I mean about the class unity issue with creatives. we have no large scale union, we have no large scale class consciousness, and we're all sending our orders for little plastic crap to sweatshops instead of emailing a guy with a laser cutter in his garage and saying "hey Keith can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh 50 laser cut keychains of this twerking Diggler design I made, like how much would that cost" and he's like sure here's the work and materials cost and tbh it's always always less than i think it's going to be. you just have to do some basic arithmetic and then order shipping, and I hate order fulfillment with my life but you can actually pay or barter with someone to do that for you too. learn to delegate and then factor that into your unit cost. this is basic shit every commercial creator needs to know. they should teach you this in art school but they dont

don't give me crap about "I can't afford a laser cutter" either because I just told you to email Keith. and all these machines get sold secondhand when a manufacturer or hobbyist needs to upgrade. i got a color laser printer perfect for making zines and wheatpastes and shipping labels from a retired lesbian on capital hill for $75 and it was still full of ink. my friend gave me her 20 year old canon dslr because she just didn't need it and didn't want to bother selling it. it works fine because I spent the time finding the right drivers and shit for my computer. and card readers exist. Craigslist. Facebook marketplace. nextdoor sales section. eBay. everyone always forgets eBay. eBay lets you save searches and will email you when it finds a guy selling his vinyl plotter in your city with local pickup. I'm serious

[ceilidho]

Hello~ new lurker here. I've been daydreaming about Price wanting a family, but not having the time to court someone, and two other possible scenarios came to kind.

Reader, not part of his team but works at the same base, who was just served divorce papers. She wanted kids, the soon to be ex-husband didn't and he found someone else. She doesn't *know* how to be a girlfriend anymore. She only knows how to be a wife.

Or

It's family day on base. Price is wistfully watching families show up for their soldiers. And overhears someone who is in the same boat as him.

"don't be getting babyfever."

"Too late. Want a baby. I want something worth retiring for."

you're hitting all my buttons with this :\\ I'm realllyyyyyy going heart eyes at the first idea though.

Poor reader who maybe got married knowing that her husband wasn't interested in having kids but hoping that she could change his mind. Then maybe accepting a childless marriage after years of being together, but always felt like she was giving up something immeasurably valuable to her, like giving away the future she'd always envisioned for herself.

Only to get hit with divorce papers after giving up so much of herself for her husband. She signs them in a daze because he's already moved in with his new girlfriend and she couldn't bear the humiliation of trying to beg for him to come back when he's already so clearly moved on.

Maybe Price has always been interested in her, but respected the ring on her finger and figured that he was just too late. A damn shame, but over the years that they've worked together, he's come to treasure her companionship. He treats himself to daydreams, to quick wanks in the shower before work so that he doesn't spend the day looking for her or hovering over her shoulder when he finds her. So he can pretend at being normal.

And his brain short circuits when she stops by his office one day and he glances down to her hands out of habit only to find them bare. No ring. Glances up again and really looks at her this time, the troughs under her eyes, dark circles from poor sleep, from crying, cheeks losing a bit of their plumpness from not eating right. Price doesn't even listen to the words coming out of her mouth, some request from her superior that she'd been tasked with bringing to him. It all falls to the wayside because her ring is gone.

He lets her confide in him, gives her his shoulder to cry on. Locks the door to his office and pulls her into his lap even though it's not appropriate, he's not her direct superior but he is a superior. He shouldn't be brushing his thumb under her eyes to wipe away her tears and speaking to her in a low, hushed voice, exhorting her to tell him everything weighing on her. He shouldn't be pitting her against her ex, telling her that he'll help her sell the house (she can't afford to buy her husband's half since it's in both of their names) and she can stay with him in the meantime.

He shouldn't feed into her anguish by telling her that he understands her pain. How much he's longed for a baby as well, just never found the right person, the right partner. The big, empty hole in his life that he's never been able to fill with work or friends or extended family. He shouldn't indulge himself in the way crying makes her pretty lips swell and her eyes go big and watery. He shouldn't nudge her into agreeing to move in with him when she's this vulnerable, still beaten up and hurt from signing the papers not even a few days ago.

He does anyway though :\\

[dragonzair]

My 63-year old aunt, Merlina (Dina) Bayongan, is currently recovering at home from a broken hip, and the costs for surgery and medical treatment have become more than our family can afford on our own. Currently, the hospital has informed us that the bill is $20,000 CAD and likely to increase. My family and I are incredibly grateful for your assistance in paying for the costs of treatment so we can ensure her quality of life.

My aunt is a resident of the Philippines, who has been visiting my family for the last few weeks here in Canada. She broke her hip on November 28, after falling during a dizzy spell most likely due to a fever she had at the time. Being a tourist with no insurance, medical care is not covered under Canadian insurance policies. We ended up calling for an ambulance to take her to the hospital after we also realised she had developed an infection on her foot during her fever. This turned out to be a necessary call - during the ambulance ride, the paramedics became increasingly worried about the state of her hip, and X-Rays at the hospital confirmed that she had broken it in the fall.

My aunt stayed overnight at the hospital, where they informed us that her stay would cost $3000 per night out of pocket for the duration of her stay, and told us she needed to go into surgery the next day. Thankfully, the surgery has gone without any hitches, and she is recovering well, a fact that my family and I are eternally grateful for. They kept her a few days longer before she was able to come home. Despite everything, we are relieved that her injury occurred here in Canada, rather than back home in the Philippines, because the healthcare options for her are much better than what's available back home.

She is currently recovering at home, and has been improving in strength. We've been taking her for daily walks outside the apartment hallways, with the help of a walker lent by the hospital. We have a few other equipment on loan including a pushchair, and things to make our bathroom a bit more accessible, but we'll have to start covering the rental fees once the month ends.

She came to visit Canada after retiring back home in the Philippines as she wanted to experience snow for the first time, so we are really hoping she recovers well enough that we can at least take her outside to experience Canadian snow, and hopefully return home to her family and grandchildren back in the Philippines. The holidays will be rough for my family and hopefully with your help, we can make all this trouble worth it by getting our aunt back on her feet.

[kaijuno]

“In this photo, my mom had just turned 18 years old. She was about to finish high school at a classical lyceum, where only eight students made it to the end—two girls and six boys. The others were all children of doctors, professors, and lawyers, but she was the only one whose parents were an electrician and a homemaker. My grandparents had only an elementary school education, and she had to wake up at five every morning to catch the bus with the working men to get to school. By her senior year, her paternal grandfather told her it was time to find a job; they were looking for a secretary, a well-paid and prestigious position for a good girl.

My mom was excellent in school and was sad to stop studying, but they couldn't afford it; there wasn't enough money. Then one evening, her father, my beloved grandfather Lidio, took her aside and said: "This money was set aside for your dowry. Take it and enroll in university. You can always buy sheets later." It was 1960, and my grandfather didn't even have a middle school diploma. He was an orphan from a young age, yet he was always light years ahead. After all, he had two daughters, and to those who said, "Poor thing, it’s a pity you didn't have a boy," he always replied that his daughters were the best thing life could offer him.

My mom graduated in five years, studying in the mornings and tutoring in the afternoons to support herself. She became a teacher, and since retiring, she writes books and edits theses, all thanks to a revolutionary working-class father who, in 1960, chose to invest in education rather than household linens. My grandfather was a superhero.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

AEIWAM How does the chain of command work? What are the seated officers *supposed* to be doing? What's the lowest rank? What is the least yell-able rank? Which job looks silly on paper but is actually really load bearing? Anything you want an excuse to rant about on this topic?

Yeah ok I'll ramble:

So there's how the Divisions are SUPPOSED to work:

Every division of the Gotei-13 consists of exactly 200 members, 20 of which are seated officers. The top two positions are the "Captain" and "Lieutenant".

The Captain (#1) is in charge of EVERYTHING but directly in charge of seated officers 2-10

The Lieutenant (#2) is in charge of seated officers 11-20

Officers 20-11 are usually in charge of the division's regular/maintenance functions, officers 9-3 are in charge of whatever special projects are going on

Seated officers 3-20 each then have 9 of the remaining 180 rank-and-file shinigami assigned to them to carry out whatever orders

Captains can have Duplicate Officers of the same rank (Shunsui's Co-lieutenants or Ukitake's teo 3rd seats), but they are not allowed to have more than 20 seated officers total (there is no 8th or 13th 20th seat)

...And then there's how the divisions *actually* work.

First of all, almost nobody actually sticks to the "Exactly 200 People Per Division" rule. The rule was put in by the Central 46 to prevent the Gotei-13 from growing too large and becoming a military force that could unbalance the government.

The ones who do stick to it currently are:

Yamamoto (Sticking to the rules out of fear of the C46)

Komamura (But doing other chicanery mentioned below)

Zaraki (AT THE ABSOLUTE LIMIT OF HIS ATTENTION SPAN)

Some Captains are a bit up shit creek in that their division is in charge of WAY MORE SHIT THAN 200 PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY DO.

Unohana got really creative about what counted as a "Consultant" or "Assistant" or "Temporary Hire" until she finally had enough damn people to actually run the seireitei's primary shinigami and civilian hospital, several major civil services (until the Ninth took over the Archives under Tousen and the Eleventh took over Sanitation under Zaraki).

Soi Fon has done something similar by stretching the definition of things she's "In Charge Of". Parts of the Onmitsukido, Shihouin clan retainers, Mercenaries etc.

Mayuri decided to stretch the definition of what counted as "People".

More commonly, captains will have a handful of people they pay under the table to help with tasks someone needs to do but doesn't need a Shinigami- errand-runners, tech support etc.

Rose and Byakuya have like, six extra people a piece, mostly for small tasks that otherwise gum up the works or that are major QoL improvements for the squad. Tea ladies, messengers, someone who bakes snacks and tidies the common areas. Housekeeping.

Tousen employs like 15-20 extra people in the 9th because they were already on the verge of becoming a substitute social service when he took over. He would have hired more but Aizen didn't want questions. Ukitake and Shunsui employ a similar number of off-the-books division members- Ukitake sort of absorbed the Kido corps after Tessai vanished and Shunsui has a Whole Lotta Finance Consultants.

MATSUMOTO has like. 50 extra people on the books. QOL improvements, minor task monkeys, couple of recently deceased consultants with the latest in new tech and organizational science… Okay, and a bunch of people she hired basically to help them out. Old lady Yamazaki, the two local street bums (you notice how nothing EVER gets stolen or vandalized at the tenth?), a bunch of academy kids from the shitstain districts of the rukongai who can't afford board I mean really I found Daisuke sleeping in with the training dummies did you want me to LEAVE him there?

...And then some people are running divisions of LESS than 200 people.

Shinji keeps forgetting to hire more people to replace people who retired.

Gin never actually figured out HOW to hire new people.

On the Far Opposite end of this nonsense is Komamura, who has gotten the 7th into such a well-oiled and efficient machine that he doesn't actually NEED all 200 members, so he keeps his additional staff on the actual payroll via clever use of Expense Reports.

Furthermore, what any given seated officer is actually in charge of varies wildly not only by Division but also by individual captains.

Unohana puts all her seated officers in charge of specific branches of medicine (anesthesiology, endrocinology, toxicology, etc.) and as far as she's concerned 3-20 are all the same rank.

Shunsui put himself and his lieutenants in charge of the 8th's regular functions (Finance) so he could deploy his 19 other officers to investigate all the fucking white-collar crime he got saddled with managing.

It's not clear if Zaraki ever actually assigned ranks to officers 4-20. He's captain, Ikkaku is is right hand, Yumichika is effectively-his co-lieutenant-but-wanted-the number-3 spot and there is a pack of 17 other guys that have men assigned to them but *what number seated officer they actually are* is a division secret. Partly because, like his favorite captain, every officer that is not his lieutenant is the same rank as far as Zaraki is concerned, and partly because if some district daimyo or minor noble demands to see the highest-ranked available officer available for their trifling matter, whoever he sends is now his "Fourth Seat". He's had as many as a dozen "Fourth Seat" Officers deployed at once!

The Tenth Division under captain Shiba always had the same teams- once you were assigned to a seated officer, the only way to change your coworkers was to get promoted. Under Captain Matsumoto, your co-workers change every week. Some seated officers have as many as 30 people assigned to them, some as little as two, and what officer you're working under changes as needed.

Lieutenant is probably the worst job in the Gotei-13.

It's the same as being a seated officer except you're responsible for the other officers instead of rank-and-file, you have to go to way more meetings and if something happens to your captain, you're acting captain until further notice

Does come with a SWEET pay raise tho

As the captains have to answer to Yamamoto, the Lieutenants have to answer to Sasakibe, the Gotei-13's Shadow King.

Sasakibe is a very quiet, almost forgettable man which is hilarious because he holds the positions of Lieutenant-captain of the Gotei-13, Headmaster of Genryusai Academy, and Gotei-13 Liaison to the Central 46. The man is the single most powerful person in soul society after Yamamoto and Yamamoto's Ex-Wife.

The lieutenants see him more often than any captain sees Yamamoto, often when they would least like to. He has a habit of Suddenly Appearing when they're in the middle of something embarassing.

Chojiro Sasakibe refuses to admit that there is even the remotest possibility that Yamamoto will predecease him, so in lieu of having to take over as "Acting Captain-General", Sasakibe regards his primary duty as Lieutenant-Captain to prepare all the lieutenants under him to become future captains. ALL of them, because he can't actually talk Yamamoto out of a poor pick once the man gets an idea into his head. The twelfth division has been a SHAMBLES because he hasn't been able to change Yamamoto's mind about the importance of R&D vs Reliable Provisioning. Maybe Mayuri will poison himself and Lieutenant Kurotsuichi can take over. She's *DELIGHTFULLY* reliable.

If he can't get the captains to train their (possible) replacements, BY THE SOUL KING'S NUTS HE WILL. He's had to do a lot of work with Poor Master Kira, but he thinks the boy still has potential. Miss Hinamori will need a lot of rehabiliation too, and Miss Suragaki needs to be outright domesticated so Captain Hirako is NOT ALLOWED TO DIE any time soon.

Some of them he's quite pleased with, actually. Master Macheriyo has come out quite nicely, but the Omaedas have always been strong stock in Sasakibe's mind. He was very upset when Seinosuke Yamada left to become the chief of medicine at the Seireitei's private hospital but Miss Koetetsu has exceeded his wildest expectations. Miss Kuchiki has not only filled Lieutenant Shiba's shoes, but gone up a size. He is not looking forward to the impending "Three Captains Kuchiki" situation though.

The Eleventh has always been an unmanageable dumpster fire but Lieutenant Madarame and Lieutenant-But-Third-Seat Aseyagawa put him somewhat at ease. With Sasakibe's rotten luck, Zaraki is probably immortal but he has two of the most organized men in soul society to think for him so it'll probably be alright.

The thing he's REALLY looking for is someone to train as HIS OWN replacement- he assumes he will die first, and SOMEONE will need to take care of Yamamoto-Sama in his place. He thought he'd found that in Komamura, possibly his favorite shinigami he's ever trained, but it was not to be. He currently has high hopes for Liuetenant Ise should something happen to him.

It will not. It's going to be MUCH more annoying than that.

The hallmark of a great lieutenant is that they can take over for their captain at the drop of a hat, and most captains regularly put their lieutenants in charge as "Acting Captain" for brief periods to practice.

Unohana puts hers in charge the most often, because she regularly has to go do surgery where she can't be interrupted. Isane Koetetsu is Acting Captain at least twice a week, and once had to take to role on for a solid month!

Ukitake has semi-regularly scheduled "Dead Days" where he's in the office but nobody is allowed to acknowledge him, so he can see how they run and give concrit to his lieutenant. It helps his division cope with his illness, but one time a picture of him asleep with his feet on his desk and a piece of paper taped to his face reading "I'M DEAD, GO ASK RUKIA" escaped the context of the 13th and there was Bedlam about it.

Zaraki has either never or always had Ikkaku in the position of "Acting Captain" and neither of them will clarify that situation.

Tousen didn't *intentionally* put Shuuhei in charge- he tried to avoid it to keep his beloved lieutenant out of Aizen's Circle Of Influence, but Shuuhei is like a border collie in that if he is not Being Helpful RIGHT NOW HE WILL EXPLODE AND DIE, and so, like a border collie, Shuuhei kept inventing jobs for himself and taking over any random task that was not immediately explicitly someone's job so when Tousen got abducted Shuuhei was doing like 60% of the work already.

Gin NEVER put Izuru in the role of "Acting Captain", he just foisted all his responsibilities onto the boy with none of the authority which has made him a nervous wreck. Captain Otoribashi, on the other hand, casually decided "I need the day off to go see a preformance of Bizet in the 3rd district, Izuru you're captain until i get back, BYE~!" and was only stopped from breezing out the door by Izuru's immediate scream of panic. They're working on it.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shoulder

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Summary: Your Lyon injury

Pernille shrieks when it happens, turning away and hiding in Magda's arms.

It was hardly the first Champion's League final you had competed at (twice at Arsenal, one win and one loss and last year at Barcelona too) but it still filled Pernille with the same amount of pride every time she saw you on the pitch.

The corner kick came in and the world turned into slow motion.

One of the girls on the opposite team crashes into you, a clear foul as you come out of your goal to grab the ball. She knocks you back into your own goalposts and you go crashing to the floor.

Natalia grabs onto the railings in front of her, knuckles white, when Pernille finally peaks out of her hiding spot.

You're still on the ground when she looks and the whole box is filled with unease.

"Get up," Pernille hears Frido mutter through gritted teeth," Come on, get up."

Johanna has her hand clamped over her mouth as the medics rush on. Zećira has begun to pace slightly as Jessie looks a little sick.

Natalia is completely still, her hand clenched tightly around the railing as everyone watches the medics fuss over you.

You're saying something that no one can quite work out and you wince as they touch your shoulder.

"She'll be okay," Natalia says, looking around wildly," Right? She'll be okay?"

Her eyes are wide with horror and fear as she looks between all of the retired players surrounding her.

"I mean, it won't be bad, right? She's not really hurt."

"Natalia..." Magda says gently.

"No! She's going to be okay! She has to be okay!"

No one knows what to say to ease Natalia's clear distress as the medics helps you up and the ref gives a yellow card to the girl that fouled you.

You return to your goal but keep rolling your shoulder, the crinkle between your brow deepening.

"Something's wrong," Jessie says as play resumes," Something's definitely wrong. Her shoulder..."

"They need to take her off," Natalia says, shaking her head," She bounces back from injuries. It's bad."

No one refutes her as Lyon advances on Bayern's half. No one watches the ball, eyes focused solely on the way you're staring down at your arm like you're confused about something.

"They won't let her back on after halftime, right?" Frido asks no one in particular as Lyon finally break the deadlock.

"They've got no other choice," Zećira says," The whole reason she was loaned is because their other two keepers are long-term injured. Their next best choice is that eighteen-year-old who has a total of, what? Two games of experience? This is a final. They can't afford to not keep her on."

"It's going to get worse!" Natalia insists and Pernille briefly wonders if she ever looked like this, if those times that Magda got injured had manifested themselves on her face like how it was in Natalia's.

Her eyes are wild and she looks seconds away from jumping the barrier.

Pernille understands the feeling.

"She's going to be fine," Magda insists," She'll get checked at halftime and we'll see."

You don't go off at halftime.

Zećira's right.

Lyon has no other option, especially not against a team like Bayern who had knocked Barcelona out this year.

You're powering through it but it takes another knock in extra time to ruin it all.

You've just saved the penalty that one of your defenders had so carelessly given away when the girl from earlier comes storming towards you.

She's yelling at you and you stand firm.

Pernille can feel Magda's grip on her tighten when the girl grabs you by the shirt and slams you up against the goalposts.

The wounded sound coming out of your mouth is load enough that it causes the crowd to go silent for a moment.

Then, they erupt.

You fall to the ground and grab at your shoulder.

Johanna and Frido grab Natalia to stop her from leaping over the barrier and Zećira lets Jessie hide her face in her shoulder.

Magda's grip is iron tight as a similar wounded sound leaves Pernille's mouth in sympathy.

The medics rush on and you sit up.

The Bayern girl is shown a red card and walks off the pitch.

It gives Pernille time to inspect what's wrong. Your arm is lower than it should be and you scream out in pain as the medics touch it.

"Let go! Let go!" Natalia says," She's in pain! Let go of me!"

"You're no use to her right now," Frido replies," Don't do anything stupid."

You're sucking heavily on a green whistle and Pernille flinches as one of the medics pulls your arm up and out in front of you. The other stands behind you, bracing your back.

Slowly, they work the joint back into its socket.

You suck harder on the green whistle.

This isn't the first time you've dislocated your shoulder. The first was during one of your first matches for Sweden, back when you first faced Denmark as a member of the senior team in a round of friendlies.

You'd had your shoulder set after the game finished.

It's the first time that she's seen it set on the field.

Despite the green whistle numbing your pain, everyone can see the moment you feel the bone popping back into its socket.

The medics are talking to you and you keep nodding even as they fit your arm into a sling.

"No..." Johanna says as you get up," They've got to take her off, surely?"

"There's a minute on the clock," Jessie says when it becomes clear that nobody else is going to answer," You know what she's like. She'll wait it out."

It clear that the Lyon girls have the same idea because they don't even try to shoot for goal anymore. They just pass the ball between them aimlessly as the minutes count down.

Magda, Pernille and Natalia are all gone the moment the whistle blows, jumping over the railing as you walk off the pitch.

Natalia gets there first, tucking you into her as you rest your head on her shoulder.

"Does it hurt, amor?" She asks gently and you nod.

"I'm fine."

"No, no," She says just as soft as before," You will be fine. You're not fine just yet and that's okay."

That's what triggers it.

The tears you've been holding back roll down your cheeks as you sob into her shoulder, blubbering out a slew of Swedish and Danish that Natalia can't keep up with.

"It's all going to be okay," Talia says to you," I'm going to take care of you. You'll come home and I'm going to make it all okay, mi vida."

"You scared me, princesse," Pernille says as she approaches," What happened, huh? I though we'd gotten over this sticking out an injury."

You sniffle and look at your Momma from where you're resting your head on Natalia's shoulder. "Sorry, Momma. I...I didn't want to let anyone down."

"Keeping yourself safe isn't letting anyone down," Magda's stern voice says," I've half a mind to bring you home while you recover."

You frown. "But I'm going home anyway? I've been sending my stuff back to Spain for weeks now."

Talia chuckles. "You're so cute, amor. I think your mother means home to Sweden."

Your cheeks go red from embarrassment. "Oh."

Pernille rolls her eyes at Magda's look of annoyance (she never did quite get over the fact that you're an adult now). "Come on, princesse. I think you need to get some scans done before you get your medal."