#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.

[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.

[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

[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

[awkward-teabag]

This is the end result of kicking the can down the road because no one wants to spend the money to fix public healthcare and wanting to privatize healthcare, and I absolutely believe this was a needless death.

I'm lucky in that I have a nurse practitioner (after being years without anyone after my previous GP retired and no one could/would take her patients) but it still took nearly a week for an emergency appointment less than a month ago.

If not, though... walk-ins don't take people unless you show up at 6am and are lucky or can spend all day refreshing a telehealth app to snag a cancelled appointment (which only works if it's something telehealth can actually do something about).

The ER is always an option but I can see why someone in their early 20s doesn't do that. It also relies on hoping you'll be taken seriously instead of being told you're young and healthy so can manage and having to advocate/fight to be taken seriously.

Dix has been horrible as health minister for years and needs to be replaced. Horgan also thought the care he got as premier was similar to what everyone got. Eby has yet to say anything as far as I know but Dix still has a job and nothing will change while he's in it.

Over a fifth of the province doesn't have a family doctor, walk-ins have become something you need to make an appointment for weeks later, and the ER is where you go if you need to be seen ASAP. Urgent care centres was just a political distraction to make it seem like Dix was doing something—many shut down within a couple years due to a lack of staff.

Because that's really what it comes down to, a lack of healthcare providers and a government that doesn't think it needs to change how it does things or increase pay so people can afford to stay/move to the province. 'cause in BC, family doctors get the least pay and also have to pay their own rent/leases and more so after all the deductions they walk away making not too much more than minimum wage while also having medical student debt and being a small business owner.

So of course people leave when they could make more money elsewhere and not have to learn another major skill set on the fly.

Urgent care centres were, supposedly, supposed to cut out the whole being a small business owner that family doctors also have to be but it doesn't solve the lack of compensation in a high cost of living province.

And just in the last year or two, the current government fought against the nurses union to not increase wages as much as the union wanted and refused to tie wages to inflation.

Sadly cases like Sophia have been happening for years and will continue to happen until our healthcare system gets an overhaul that's been needed for decades.

Family and friends of a young shelter worker in Nanaimo are speaking out about her death from an undiagnosed serious infection. They told Global News they believe she could have been saved if she had access to a family doctor. Sophia was only 23 years old when she died on Nov. 27 after repeatedly being misdiagnosed by doctors. “She was full of life, super funny, had a great sense of humour,” Sophia’s mom, Melonie, told Global News.

Continue Reading

Tagging @politicsofcanada

[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

[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

[dekarios]

i need help with vet bills (again).

hi. for those of you who remember, earlier this year i asked for donations to help me afford toos' vet bills, who we found out through your help had kidney failure, and again with your help we got her on medication for it. unfortunately it wasn't enough, and we lost her. and then shortly after, dexter began deteriorating, which we put down to his grief of losing toos - she kept him young, he followed her everywhere, he only played because of her, he only ate when she ate, etc. without her he just stopped. and then he started to have seizures and fits daily. we got him blood tests, but he was suffering so badly. we made the decision to put him down. i didn't ask for donations this time, because i was so deeply embarrassed to ask for help again. but we are still recovering financially from that, as well as the parts of toos bills that didn't get covered from donations. my mother hasn't worked for a very long time, she's disabled and very sick, and she receives PIP from the government that only covers her monthly medications that are not covered by the NHS. my father retired early to become her full time carer, and we are living off his pension. i am too disabled to work, but because my mother already receives PIP and i live with them, the government are resistent to giving me any help - so i have zero income, and rely entirely on my parents.

this is jenny. she's a 14 year old cairn terrier, who loves when we garden because she wants to help dig holes. she helped us bury dexter and toos, digging their graves for them with my dads help. she's an angel, and loves people so much she likes to escape under the fence and join other families for awhile. one time she got into someones back garden and asked to come in as they were eating lunch. she really hates flies, and will try to bite them out of the air (she has never succeeded but i believe she will one day). she will rub her face against you until you start stroking her, and will growl and even bark if you stop! we don't have the money to take jenny to the vets, for a checkup or for anything they may want to do. this has been an ongoing issue, but toos and dexter took priority, and it hasn't been a bother to her. she existed as normal for a long time, but that's since changed.

jenny has this lump in her mouth, it is larger than the picture shows, but she is a nightmare to force open her mouth since this got so big, i think it's uncomfortable or painful for her. she can't properly close her lips now, and it has pushed all her front teeth away, misshaping her mouth, and sometimes it bleeds profusely. eating has become difficult for her, she can't eat anything hard, and currently will only eat soft human foods like rice, scrambled egg chopped up so small she doesn't have to chew, and things like soups and gravy. she's lost a lot of weight, and i'm getting frightened. to add onto it, i've found lumps like this across her body. i've done as much research as i can, and i believe it to be an oral tumor, it fits, and it looks right, and it spreading across her body is called 'full staging'. and going by all i've read - they will want to remove them in surgery. according to my research, this will cost anywhere from £585 - £4,740 for just the lump in her mouth. that's not including any checkup/test costs, or the other lumps on her body.

she hasn't been to the vet yet, i don't have any secure goal or bills to share, just my assumptions and beliefs from researching myself online. my parents refuse to take her because we can't afford it. i want to save up money, have it in my bank, and show them that we can help her now, before it gets worse, or it's too late. as i said before, i don't have any income, so the only way i can do this is with help.

here's a link to my paypal.me

the icon is a little mouse, and the @ is rivellon

i struggled so badly posting the first post like this for toos. i felt so guilty and embarrassed and ashamed. but i have no choice again, i want to help jenny. i don't want her to suffer. and selfishly, i can't handle losing another dog so soon. this year has been waking nightmare, and i need your help to stop it getting even worse.

please reblog and share, even if you can't donate.

thank you for reading.

[phantomrose96]

I've mentioned this thing in tags before but I've decided fuck it, it should be its own post.

I've seen this sentiment lumped into Eat the Rich posts which goes like "if you're worth more than $1 million I think you should die" and I think tumblr users need to know this is not the Eat the Rich statement they think it is.

Someone being worth $1 million doesn't mean what you think it means.

A 71-year-old widow who bought a single-family 2,000 sqft home in Somerville Massachusetts with her husband 40 years ago to raise their family in, who now lives in this home all alone because her children are grown and her husband is dead, is--without a shadow of a doubt--worth more than $1 million. Maybe even $1.5 or $2 million. And it's because of her home equity, because that's what single family homes go for these days in that area.

The 71-year-old widow may be living pension check to pension check, because her millionaire status can only be dipped into if she's removed from her home and sells it. And if it's the home she's loved for 40 years, where she simply wants to live out the rest of her time peacefully in, I wouldn't put her to the guillotine for that.

Maybe that comes off as an extreme example, like that's just an outlier of the "we hate millionaires" agenda. But I don't think it truly is. I'll scale back and tell you the median U.S. home price right now is about $430,000. And that's just median. Half of them are more expensive than that.

The statement "I think people should be able to afford to buy and own the homes they live in" is, I would desperately hope, not a radical statement to anyone on Tumblr. I think that's a pretty well-received idea. So someone who's done that, who's bought their home and worked many years to pay off the mortgage and now owns it fully, is worth close to half a million dollars on average. Many of them more than that, as many areas rapidly gentrify and drive up housing worth.

Statement 2: "I think people deserve to have a retirement fund which would comfortably support them through end of life." Too radical for anyone? I hope not. And I won't pretend to be an expert on how much retirement money is ideal. I'm sure it varies with cost of living in places. But considering this is money which, ideally, should support someone for the remaining 10-20 years of life (money which may be necessary to cover the absolutely crippling medical costs of end-of-life treatment) I'd bet it's well into the many hundreds of thousands. Even if someone was simply living off $30k/year of take home money and just making that work, then 15 years of retirement, costing $30k/year, plus maybe $50k+ of end-of-life medical costs... That's at least $500k.

Which is all to say, if you show me someone approaching retirement age who's "worth" $1 million dollars, my hope would be that their house is paid off and their retirement fund is comfortable. I'd be happy for them. I would want this for them.

Even that may not be true, though. Someone "worth" $1 million maybe owns a paid-off house which has rapidly appreciated to being worth $900k, and their $100k in retirement is something they're trying to stretch through end of life. Maybe someone worth $1 million owns a house which has ballooned to $1.1 million, and they're in fact $100k in debt.

And the fact that SO many Americans will never even meet this bar is significantly more appalling to me than the existence of people worth more than $1 million. "I own my home and can retire comfortably" is a bar we want every American to meet. I want more millionaires who are millionaires because they meet these criteria.

If Nana Somerville's house burns down tomorrow, she'll have lost everything. If a billionaire were to similarly lose $1 million of worth, he would not feel it. That's a fickle day at the stock market. That's Tuesday. That's the rich which desperately needs to be eaten.

[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 longer 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 :\\

[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

[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.”

[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."

[lexithwrites]

credit to franki3_draws for the beautiful artwork

since sirius black's early retirement as a pro tennis player, his younger brother regulus has been playing in his shadow. their mother—both their coach and four time wimbledon champion—has never let him live a normal life even before his brother quit, meaning regulus has known nothing but tennis since he was five years old. he's good, one of the best, and is on a fast track to the grand slam for the first time, as well as becoming the first trans man to compete in mens singles, so he cannot afford any distractions.

then along came james, the lifeguard at his parents country club, and everything went to shit.

(coming soon)

AHH i had to put the official artwork out there because its so gorgeous and frankie did an amazing job with my boys, they look so good and i cant wait to start releasing this story! it means a lot to me and has been a passion project for the last month, so i hope i can do it justice<3

and here is the original artwork without the title and colouring so you can appreciate it properly (go check her out she's doing commissions!!)