#female unemployment

[indizombie]

One 28-year-old woman, who worked in HR, said she'd seen people who were forced to leave their jobs or who were passed over for promotions after taking maternity leave, which had been enough to convince her never to have a baby. Both men and women are entitled to a year's leave during the first eight years of their child's life. But in 2022, only 7% of new fathers used some of their leave, compared to 70% of new mothers. Korean women are the most highly educated of those in OECD countries, and yet the country has the worst gender pay gap and a higher-than-average proportion of women out of work compared to men. Researchers say this proves they are being presented with a trade-off - have a career or have a family. Increasingly, they are choosing a career.

Jean Mackenzie, ‘Why South Korean women aren't having babies’, BBC

[melancholygirl111]

[konfizry]

ok heres the most vile, depraved, unhinged thing i’m willing to admit to

if d*halim was a woman i would be all over that character like go girl give us nothing

hard to articulate exactly what makes me think this way if not “i just think it’s neat when fictional women are horrible not only as people, but also i want them to be absolute train wrecks from a writing perspective, especially in a way that is refreshing and a bit out of left field for a woman”

like

guy needs girlfriend’s help and guidance to tie his shoelaces, not give himself food poisoning and not say the most insensitive shit to people:

-tired, plays into the “men can’t navigate life by themselves and need their Girlfriend Who Owns The Braincell for everything” cliché

-look at this failure of a straight (derogatory)

-opens a pit of darkness in my heart

girl needs girlfriend’s help and guidance to tie her own shoelaces, not give herself food poisoning and not say the most insensitive shit to people:

-refreshing, hilarious

-look at this failure of a lesbian (affectionate)

-opens a pit of darkness in my heart but it is a safe, welcoming kind of darkness that lulls me to peaceful harmony as it hums

gender is so mysterious u guys

[fruitgoat]

I was just a total bitch to someone and I feel bad about it.

[luminewhosthat]

Hey guys

I felt quite insecure and ashamed to post this,

But I don't think I can hold it back anymore.

I'm from Bangladesh, my homeland, I speak Bangla, it's my mother tongue, and I'm proud of my roots but my family immigrated to America many years ago. But I still care a lot about my country. So recently, there has been a lot going in Bangladesh. Mainly, it's because of its corrupted government. Our prime minister Sheikh Hasina is literally a dictator, if you go to twitter and search about recent news in Bangladesh, you can see that the situation is not that good. Basically, it's because we have a thing which is called "Quota" and it affects the Bangladeshi Government job sectors in a very negative way. This "Quota" is for the freedom fighters who fought in 1971 war which happened in Bangladesh. But the problem is that, even though those freedom fighters are dead, their families are welcome to enjoy the privileges which the quota provides.

Mostly, the grandchildren of these freedom fighters can use the quota to get jobs in Bangladesh's most prestigious job sectors, which has created a huge unemployment problem in Bangladesh. Also, these "so called" grandchildren are now TOTALLY CORRUPTED AND RUINING OUR COUNTRY while enjoying many privileges given by our PM and Bangladeshi students are very mad about it because normal, brilliant students with ZERO QUOTA cannot get into any prestigious job sectors no matter how hard they try!

Thousands of students have also committed sui*ide because they could not feed their poor family who are looking up to these brilliant students so that they can spin their family's poor fate.

From 13 July till now, the students of many public and private universities of Bangladesh are protesting together and risking their lives in order to remove this disgusting, vile and cruel quota system. Unfortunately, given to these current circumstances, our PM still pays no mind to these poor students who are protesting ENDLESSLY and literally DYING ON THE ROAD !!

Sheikh Hasina has labeled these brave students as RAJAKAR/TRAITORS (Collaborators who aided the enemy country Pakistan in 1971)

Our brave Bengali students, male and female, got so enraged, heartbroken by the fact that their prime minister called them traitors of the country just because they wanted the quota system removed. Following that incident, on July 15, at 1 AM, Dhaka University students, Eden Women's College students and many other University students broke down the gates of their hall at midnight and ran down to the streets to protest while chanting "Who are you? Who am I ? Rajakar, Rajakar!!"

Brave men and women who are protesting against this quota, are now being brutally attacked and mercilessly killed by the government party terrorist organization Chhatra League. The students at Dhaka University are now being attacked with stones, Bats, knifes and literally anything that can hurt a human brutally enough. Our government has turned their back on us, claiming that these students are traitors of their own country, and they are selfish because they do not want the quota system to give benefits to only the grandchildren of freedom fighters anymore.

But the reality is, these so-called grandchildren are now dominating 56% of job sectors with the help of money, nepotism and other dishonest ways while the honest student of our country stays unemployed, their talents wasted, efforts unappreciated and thus, they suffer from depression.

I'm not asking that much from my followers, but please, for the love of God, share my post as much as you can. These mass protests are not being seen enough, share and retweet as much as possible, we need to spread these horrifying actions committed by our PM to the world. Shame, shame, shame on them. Shame on our government for turning a blind eye to hundred thousand of these students. The streets of Dhaka have been drenched with the blood of our students; in order to save their lives, we need to spread this news as much as possible. My cousins from Bangladesh are absolutely frightened, their exams have been stopped, teachers are also turning their backs on these students, they have nowhere to go now. My cousin's classmate got her arm broken off by terrorist organization Chaatro League men just because she was protesting against the corrupted system.

Women are getting assaulted, acids are being thrown at these students, violence is now occurring left and right, our PM is a woman and still, she chooses to betray the students and stands still on her disgusting beliefs with the terrorist government organization Awami League supporting her crimes.

On 21 February, in 1952, thousands of students at Dhaka University protested against the West Pakistan in order to establish the language Bangla as the state language of east Pakistan. Thousands of students had died on that day, which is why we Bangladeshis celebrate 21 February as our Mother Language Day.

It seems like history is going to repeat itself yet again.

Shame, shame, shame on them!

[metamatar]

When electronics manufacturing took off in China in the 1980s, rural women who had just begun moving to the cities made up the majority of the factory workforce. They didn’t have many other options. Managers at companies like Foxconn preferred to hire women because they believed them to be more obedient [...]

Hiring a young, female workforce in India comes with its own requirements — which include reassuring doting parents about the safety of their daughters. The company offers workers free food, lodging, and buses to ensure a safe commute at all hours of the day. On days off, women who live in Foxconn hostels have a 6 p.m. curfew; permission is required to spend the night elsewhere. “[If] they go out and not return by a specific time, their parents would be informed,” a former Foxconn HR manager told Rest of World. “[That’s how] they offer trust to their parents.”

[...] the Tamil Nadu government sent a strong signal welcoming Foxconn and other manufacturers: Authorities approved new regulations that would increase workdays from eight to 12 hours. This meant that Foxconn and other electronics factories would be able to reduce the number of shifts needed to keep their production line running from three to two, just like in China. [...] Political parties aligned with the government called the bill “anti-labor” and, during the vote, walked out of the legislative assembly. After the bill passed, trade unions in the state announced a series of actions including a demonstration on motorbikes, civil disobedience campaigns, and protests in front of the ruling party’s local headquarters. The government shelved its new rule within four days.

Indian Foxconn workers told Rest of World that eight hours under intense pressure is already hard to bear. “I’ll die if it’s 12 hours of work,” said Padmini, the assembly line worker.

For the expatriate workers, the slower pace of the factory floors in India is its own shock to the system. A Taiwanese manager at a different iPhone supplier in the Chennai area told Rest of World that India’s 8-hour shifts and industry-standard tea breaks were a drag on production. “You have barely settled in on your seat, and the next break comes,” the manager lamented.

In China, Foxconn relies on lax enforcement of the country’s labor law — which limits workdays to eight hours and caps overtime — as well as lucrative bonuses to get employees to work 11 hours a day during production peaks [...] five Chinese and Taiwanese workers said they were surprised to discover that their Indian colleagues refused to work overtime. Some attributed it to a weak sense of responsibility; others to what they perceived as Indian people’s low material desire. “They are easily content,” an engineer deployed from Zhengzhou said. “They can’t handle even a bit more pressure. But if we don’t give them pressure, then we won’t be able to get everything right and move production here in a short time.” [...] At the same time, the expat staff enjoy the Indian work culture of tea breaks, chatting with colleagues, and going home on time. They recognize they are helping the company spread a Chinese work culture that they know can be unhealthy. [...]

On the assembly line, Foxconn’s targets were tough to reach, workers said. Jaishree, 21, joined the iPhone shop floor in 2022 as a recent graduate with a degree in mathematics. (With India’s high level of unemployment, Foxconn’s assembly line has plenty of women with advanced degrees, including MBAs.) [...] “At the start, during my eight-hour shift, I did about 300 [screws]. Now, I do 750,” she said. “We have to finish within time, otherwise they will scold us.” [...]

Mealtimes are an issue, too. In December 2021, thousands of Indian Foxconn employees protested after some 250 colleagues contracted food poisoning. In response, the company changed food contractors, and increased its monthly base salary from 14,000 rupees to 18,000 rupees ($168 to $216) — double the minimum wage prescribed by the Tamil Nadu labor department for unskilled workers. [...]

Working conditions take a physical toll. Padmini has experienced hair loss because she has to wear a skull cap and work in air-conditioned spaces, she said. “Neck pain is the worst, since we are constantly bending down and working.” She has irregular periods, which she attributes to the air conditioning and the late shifts. “[Among] girls with me on the production line, some six girls have this problem,” Padmini said. Workers said they regularly see colleagues become unwell. “The day before yesterday, a girl fainted and they took her to the hospital,” [...] Padmini, at 26, believes she is close to the age where the company might consider her too old. “They used to hire women up to age 30, now they hire only up to 28,” she said.

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

Time for a pretty obscure character, it’s Miss Martine! In the Rodier version of Alph-Art everyone is incredibly 70s, while I love 70s fashion I thought I’d do my own design of her that’s rooted in the 30s. I was very much inspired by Miss Lemon from ITV’s Poirot.

Tintin absolutely needs some female friends, and friends that are more his age. I can imagine Martine, Chang and Tintin forming a chaotic trio and tearing up Brussels!

Martine is left in a predicament after her former employer was murdered. The case of his death may have been solved and her name may have been cleared, but she is now left in unemployment during an economic depression. 

She reluctantly goes to Tintin for help; things are a little awkward as he previously turned her down when she asked him out at the end of the last case. At Marlinspike she meets Chang who is just moving into his room, and she bumps into Ramo Nash, an artist who worked with the art gallery she was formerly employed at. Nash has been secretly seeing Captain Haddock so has been around Marlinspike more frequently.

Nash informs her of a new exhibition he’s working on at the Museum of Art and History and suggests she applies to work there as a curator. Chang helps break the awkward tension, leaving Martine intrigued about Tintin’s friend from Shanghai.

Martine decides to follow Nash’s advice and applies for work at the museum. Chang and Tintin tag along as Tintin wants to show Chang around the city. Before the interview Martine has a panic attack - Chang manages to calm her down and gives her encouragement. She later gets the job and quickly forms a friendship with Chang, the two often going out in the evening to dance at local jazz bars and dance halls.

In between cases the three of them meet up to hang out. Tintin isn’t used to spending time with his peers so is a little socially awkward. He also still feels guilty for accusing Martine of murdering her former employee, as well as for not reciprocating any feelings for her.

To smooth things out and to thank Chang for his help Martine decides to invite them to the museum’s archive for a behind-the-scenes tour, before Chang is due to return to Shanghai to see his family for the Lunar New Year. Chang’s excitement quickly turns cold when he sees artefacts that have been stolen through colonial force. He quietly laments to Tintin, who impulsively decides to steal an ancient Chinese whistle to return it to its place of origin.

The museum descends into chaos. Nash’s exhibition is cancelled. There is a huge police investigation. Martine is a prime suspect yet again. Tintin is, suspiciously, missing. She and Chang work together to track him down to clear her name. Rather conveniently, Tintin turns up in China having “retrieved” the missing whistle, but when she inspects it closely she can tell it’s a fake. She confronts Tintin about this, but Tintin tells her if it becomes known the real whistle is gone she may lose her job. Martine is horrified at his betrayal.

She decides to stay quiet but cuts ties with Tintin. She remains friends with Chang but warns him to be careful, and not to get too close to Tintin or his work. 

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 1) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~ Please be nice to me, this is my first time writing fanfiction in a while and honestly have just been experiencing the phenomena that is Matthew Lillard as William Afton. Also, first time posting on tumblr! Also thinking of making this a multi-part series, so feedback is really appreciated!~

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships.

When it had been suggested by your previous manager that you should see a career counsellor, you had thought it was a funny joke. You had laughed at the idea of something such as going to see another human being who's job was solely to tell you what jobs you were good and qualified for.

Until the paperwork had been handed over in an unsealed manila envelope letting you know that you had been terminated.

Unemployment had hit you like a truck, but without the pay-out that might have come from the trucking company. Filing paperwork to try and get even a few dollars a week to survive and contribute towards your house-share whilst already struggling to try and push through college had fallen by the wayside and you had been hitting the pavement both physically and online to try and find your next job.

That perfect one that was sure to turn up the next day, or maybe the next week.

But as somewhat expected, that moment had never arrived and neither did that job. So it was with great reluctance that you found yourself in a drab beige building with the occasional sound of human misery making the area feel like anybody was left alive in the room despite the faint clicking of the keyboard from the receptionist.

'Would it have killed them to put a small plant or something in the room?' You found yourself thinking as you looked around, almost missing the gesture from the receptionist lady who scowled over her glasses at you and handed you a slip of paper.

"Your councillor will see you down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thanks ma'am." your voice was quiet, and the woman scoffed before shooing you away with her somewhat ridiculously long nails. You wondered how she managed to do anything with them, but your thoughts quickly turned to the office you were supposed to find as you set off quickly down the hall.

The walls were beige, the floors were beige and you were minorly impressed that they had found somewhat beige doors as you moved down the hall cautiously. But the door you needed seemed almost comically like an old episode of Scooby-Doo where it was easy to tell what object was going to be interacted with due to the significantly different colours and quality of drawing. For some reason, the one door you needed was a nice deep wooden colour, although you seriously doubted it was real wood in a place like this. It took you a moment to breathe deeply, steeling your nerves and running your hand through your hair to tidy it up a bit, hand smoothing down your skirt before reaching up and knocking.

There was sound of shuffling from inside before a smooth, warm voice that came from inside though slightly muffled. "Come on in!"

Entering slowly, you blinked as you spotted a man sat at the desk infront of you, his hair peppered with greys despite being a cool brown colour and his slightly gaunt face adorned with greying stubble. Glasses perched on the end of his nose, which he looked over the rim of to see you before reaching up and pushing them back onto his face with his index finger, standing up with a warm, lopsided smile. What surprised you next was how tall he was. The guy was easily over six feet tall, and you felt dwarfed by his sheer size, broad shoulders accentuated by a neat by rumpled beige plaid shirt and a neatly knotted tie.

"You're my new client right? Come on in! Sit, sit!" he gestured to the cracked plastic chair opposite the desk with a large hand before extending it to shake your own, hand engulfing yours and allowing you to feel how rough and calloused they were compared to your own.

'How does an office worker get such rough hands?' you wondered as you took a seat, hands automatically tucking your skirt underneath you as you sat in the hard plastic chair. Blushing as you felt the man's grey eyes wandering over your appearance with something akin to disinterested amusement before he opened a folder and made a humming noise as he scanned it.

It allowed you to look around his office, noticing several framed diplomas on the walls, surprised by the amount of colour in the room with the warm wooden bookcase and even the occasional muted purplish-blue folder dotted amongst the shelves. You noted his room smelt like coffee, both freshly brewed and stale grounds somehow, a faint smell of smoke and cologne. Sniffing quietly, you wondered if perhaps the person who had sat there before you had been a smoker and worn some cologne to try and impress. But you supposed that you had gotten dressed up yourself despite your scuffed up converse ruining the somewhat ill-fitting blouse and skirt giving some illusion of professionalism.

"So, what are we going to do with you?" His voice made you jump as you suddenly snapped your attention back to him. Heart pounding as you blushed, realising as he tilted his head slightly to one side that he had caught you off-guard and slightly snooping.

"Pardon sir?" You asked, swallowing softly as you met his gaze for a moment before you looked down at your hands again. Picking slightly at your nails and more specifically the pale blush nail polish you had hastily tried to apply yourself that morning to hide the fact that you bit your nails. He paused before sighing and leaning forwards onto his elbows, chin resting on his hands as he gave you a somewhat lazy smile.

"I asked, miss..." he glanced at the paperwork before letting your name roll off his tongue in a way that made your heart pound slightly. You weren't sure why it did, but some tiny part of your brain was eager to hear him say it again. "what I was going to do with you. You have a clean employment record...aside from all the dismissals due to.." He paused and pulled his glasses down to peer over them to stare the text, his lips moving silently as he read before putting his attention back onto you. "it says here 'staffing issues and personal life interferance'?" Raising a quizzical eyebrow

"I um... I had some issues at home at that time Mr..." Glancing down at the nameplate on his desk, you realised he had never formally introduced himself to you apart from the handshake. "Raglan. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well, I can't help you find a job if you don't help me help you." The man you now knew as Steve Raglan sighed, giving you another one of those lopsided smiles that made you feel like you were talking to a sweet, disappointed but supportive dad and gave you a pang in your chest that you might be letting this total stranger down.

"You don't have to tell me today, but I want to see you next week and I want you try to open up, tell me about what was going on and I might be able to offer something." Steve offered, gesturing to his pile of potential job prospects. You weren't aware that he was looking at you again, wondering if you purposely had chosen something that obscured your body-type and meant you weren't confident in yourself, or whether financially you had chosen what option was available.

The way you sat there meekly and picking at your nails was somewhat infuriating as he wanted to demand you looked at him when he spoke, but he remained calm. You were probably his most interesting client to date, hunching in on yourself and avoidant of filling in the blanks that your open ended statement had left. He decided he would lay on the charm slightly, see what got you to cave in and perhaps provide some amusement as his mind whirled with too many ideas and desire to move, do something and be far more active than his life as Steve Raglan allowed.

"I guess I'll see you next week then, thank you having me Mr. Raglan." you spoke softly and stood up. Watching as the hulking man stood too and opened the door with a somewhat sad smile, like he was watching a bright student walk down the wrong path in life.

"Of course, please, take this and give me a call if you would like to talk about this matter sooner. I hate to see a young woman like yourself go to waste because of one little hiccup." Another pang went through your chest as he spoke. He really did seem dissapointed in you, and some how, you found that you wanted to please the man you had met barely half an hour before.

As you walked down the corridoor, his eyes lingered on your smaller retreating form and tilted his head to one side, licking his lips to wet them for a moment in thought. He hoped whatever you were hiding from his was worth his time, and would perhaps find him another fun thing to play with.

[melancholicstation]

The Socially Active Secretary: Chapter One

pairing: robert francis kennedy female ❤︎ original character charlotte agapov (secretary!reader)

authors note: this is more of establishing of context around our main secretary girl!! our favourite pathetic catholic men (the kennedys) will come very soon i promise, all in due time. 🍺 please leave comments of any questions/likes/dislikes/all around opinions so i know if your interested!!!

synopsis: charlotte agapov, a divorcee whom recently moved back to the states after a disastrous lovers quarrel, assumes the secretarial position to the most important man in America, but it is not he who has captured her attention, no. instead, it's his meek younger brother, the runt of the kennedy pack, bobby francis kennedy.

[1403 words]

taglist: @kennediva @absurdlyvintage

chapter two, three four

masterlist charlotte moodboard rfk moodboard

(border from jenny holzer truisms 2018)

Chapter One

May 1st , 1961

There Charlotte stood, rolling on the balls of her feet, observing the woman before her in the mirror, finding her increasingly difficult to place her as recognisable. She had all the features that Charlotte understood to be her own, but she felt like nothing of the sort. Swathed in wool, to accommodate for the seemingly perpetuate damp state of Massachusetts in the month of May, and encompassed by a calf-length dress fit with double-faced cashmere in a mousey grey. Due to her contentious divorce with the English baron Hugo Cornwall, he had ordered for all her typical clothes to be held in a storage facility in Kent instead of its original location: Brookline Massachusetts. He knew how important those items were to Charlotte, and he used them as nothing more as a bargaining chip.

As a result of the divorce Charlotte had been tabloid-manhandled out of Britain and promptly returned to her mother country, the United States, and backed right into perusing the job boards in the Cape Cod Times by her alimony-avoiding, hector of an ex-husband. Hugo, at 40, knew of nothing but a life of bone china plates and private charter jets, getting by in this world from a combination of generational handouts from his godmother's situated in a nondescript European country off the coast and the humiliatingly tacky private tours he host every Saturday evening of the inherited estates cashing in a small fortune. And yet, he avoids the alimony checkers in a not so dissimilar fashion to that of his shunned family embarrassment of an uncle, who was, as of last month, avoiding taxes of in sunny Monte Carlo.

Once it became incredibly clear that Hugo was never going to cough up, and that her mother's invitation of staying at her summer house in Martha's Vineyard had a fast approaching expiry date Charlotte started to look for her next move.

Just when she had nearly exhausted all her mother's country club friends who, in a tone that could only be translated as deeply patronising stated that,

"Unemployment for such a young, american divorcee was 'in' for 1962" and that they would "call back in April to work something out"

However, April came and went, and still nothing. During the 16-month stint since Charlotte's divorce of 1961, Charlotte felt very sorry for herself and--well that's about all she did really.

Not only did getting married at 20, and it's later disillusion 8 years later, create an abstract wreckage sculpture out of her self-esteem and physical health, it stripped all prior job experience that a girl her age should've been building. After all, she could still feel her mother's fingertips ushering an 20 year old Charlotte's hands away from a flyer, held by a piece of battered painter's tape on a lamppost advertising a law school in the area,

"Oh for christ sake what are staring at now Charlotte?, you know we have caroline's recital across town, and I swear if I have to hear your aunts nasally whine one more time so help me God I will--"

Charlotte abandons her post of intense eye contact with the poster fluttering by the winds will almost instantly and returns through a soft tone "I-I'm coming now, it just captured my eye that's all."

The rest of the walk was blanketed in a soft wool of repression and thoughts better left unspoken until her mother turned on her heal, the gravel exclaiming a pleasant crunch in response,

"Don't you dare think I didn't see what you were looking at Charlotte, these are not the aspirations expected of a future baroness, you won't have any need for these silly machinations once you're tending to your husband and your home together. I understand that your nervous but think of how happy you'll be in a short few months with Hugo."

Her mother assured her in such a cadence, with such wistful hope, not meaning to make Charlotte's stomach drop but it did all the same.

"You know, I got nervous too, when I was engaged to your father. I thought about leaving more times than Sinatra's gets played on the radio at Green's pharmacy, but I stuck it out. And I got rewarded a great deal for that, for that bravery, and you will too. Far more than I ever did, I mean you're marrying a Baron who is infatuated with you for Pete's sake!"

Charlotte thinks to scoff at the notion that Hugo is at all capable of the feeling of infatuation but halts when she observes the expression of sheer elation on her mother's face.

"Everything will run as it's meant to if you do what's best, I promise",

and with that a kiss is pressed to Charlotte's forehead, and the conversation is recklessly abandoned by both parties.

Charlotte had stayed in that marriage for 8 years and what did she have to show for it? Surely not anything tangentially useful. Sure, now she knew the intricacies of English etiquette and the British aversion to hugs but that's nothing to be put on a resume. However, one worthy advantage that came out of the grotesque misalignment that was their marriage was that around the 4th year mark Charlotte had managed to secure an English degree from the University of London. Now that was certainly something to put on her resume.

Still the world seemed to completely turn its back on Charlotte, though only on a strictly employment basis, she still attended mass each Sunday and caught up with her still married, though not happily, socialite friends but it was hard to find common ground anymore. Before she could feasibly pass as one of them, now even if they didn't explicitly state it, Charlotte was now regarded as persona no grata for the entirety of the high society scene of London. She was left with a bunch empty friends, and an, as if increasing by the day, empty purse strings.

That was until a job ad in The Boston Globe caught the baby blue shadowed eye of Charlotte during her quite lonely solo escapade to the local sandwich bar across the street from her flat.

It read, in a thick professional font:

'Exciting Secretary Position Available at political epicentre of Washington D.C!

Are you a talented and organised individual seeking a rewarding career in a fast-paced office environment? Our office is looking for a professional Secretary to join our team and contribute to our continued success.

Position: Secretary Location: Top Secret [Call to confirm details] Salary: Competitive, with excellent benefits

Responsibilities:

managing and prioritising daily office tasks with efficiency

coordinating appointments and travel

managing diaries

support senior executives

having a pleasant demeanour when interacting with important officials

Qualifications:

High School Diploma or equivalent

Apply today to be part of a supportive and thriving workplace!

Phone: *** *** ***''

Now sure, the vague nature of who exactly the job would have Charlotte working for was strange and a little more than unnerving but realistically Charlotte, a 29 year old women with the same employment history as a 18 year old fresh out of high school, was going to take whatever she could get at this point.

The girl took the changing of the sky from bright periwinkle to a dim earl grey, as a sign to head back to her place in order to escape the fast approaching storm, the newspaper resting comparably rolled up in the crook of her arm.

Prior to returning to her apartment Charlotte had come to forget about the job as she had ran a few errands after the sandwich bar, that was until her feet met the door mat of her apartment. It was no longer clean as she had left it prior it now had, scrawled in big black letters, 'warning of eviction if payment is not obtained by next month'.

Charlotte's shaking hands move to pick up the yellow slip, and as she makes her way through her apartment, periodically leaving her jacket on the armrest of her laughably small settee in her stress-filled haze, she then starts to remember the job offer from the afternoon.

Sure the ad's ambiguity was a bit strange, but truly who was she to judge? It's not like the job offers were exactly rolling in at the moment.

'Oh what the hell, she might as well give it a go!' Charlotte thought, as she hesitantly dialled up the rotary.

End of Chapter One.

[ayyy-pee]

Chapter 9 - Powerslide

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: It's reader's turn to have an eye opening heart to heart with NanaGo.

Warning: Profanity because it's me, duh, mentions of emotional manipulation, reader finally making a choice!!!!, idk what else I can't remember what I even wrote

Suguru Art: YuOekk

Choso Art: @DmD_0_03

The annoying sensation of your phone ringing beneath your pillow pulls you from your dreamless sleep. With a groan, you silence it, ignoring whoever is reaching out to you this early in the morning. You know it’s not who you want it to be – your boss – because you’ve been placed on a temporary suspension until the investigation into the violence that took place on set has been completed.

It’s been a little over a week since the shitshow that was your photoshoot and you’ve spent your days wallowing in your bedroom since your followup meeting with Yaga. Just thinking about how it went down makes you shiver. You’re grateful for the dreamless sleep you’ve been having the last week or so. You fear you’d hear his deep, gravelly voice yelling expletives until your dying breath. 

In all honesty, you were surprised you’d even left with a suspension. If anything, you thought you would be leaving to make an appointment in the unemployment line. A suspension pending investigation gave you a sliver of hope that you may have a career to come back to. 

Your phone vibrates on your bed for what feels like the fiftieth time this morning. And just like the last morning and the morning before that, you ignore it, turning over in bed as you pull the blankets over your head. It dawns on you that you may feel better if you actually left your apartment, but any time you muster the courage to crawl out of bed, vivid images of the disaster on set run through your mind and you slink back beneath the sheets.

But you can’t hide away forever, you know that.

Again, your phone vibrates on your bed. With a groan, you finally pick it up. There are several unanswered texts from both Choso and Suguru, who you really don’t want to talk to. There are multiple missed calls from Suguru and one missed call and a voicemail from Choso. You don’t bother to listen. There are texts from Satoru checking to see how you’re doing and a friend request to your social media from Momo? But it’s the text at the top of your screen that really draws your attention.

It’s Nanami Kento.

He never texts. Sure, he’s been with your longtime friend, Satoru, for as long as you can remember, and you’d consider him a friend as well, but you never text each other.

You swipe your phone, unlocking the screen and tapping the message, your name the first thing you see at the beginning of his paragraph. You don’t even giggle at the goofy nickname Satoru saved his number as when you feel the serious tone of his text. 

Nanami Gojo’s Love Bun: Hello, 

Sorry to text you out of the blue like this. Let me preface this by saying I hope you’re doing alright. I’ll get to the point here.

Satoru had Suguru over for dinner last weekend and he filled us in on what took place at your photoshoot. Firstly, I hope you did not let those horribly misogynistic and frankly vile words Zenin said get to you. I don’t imagine you would.

Secondly, I don’t usually take it upon myself to involve myself in the matters of others unless asked, but I’d like to have you over for dinner tonight if you’re able to make it and discuss where your head is. I’m sure you’re aware of Suguru’s ability to over exaggerate and make statements leaning in his favor. 

Satoru is worried for both of you. He does not want to interfere, but I can’t sit idly and watch him worry himself to death. I think it would be a good idea to have you over if not to simply keep you company while you’re going through this.

If you can make it tonight at 7pm, we will have a plate ready for you. If not, just let me know.

- Kento

The gesture is nice, you can acknowledge that. And as much as you don’t want to move from this very comfortable spot on your bed, you think it’ll be a good idea to get out of the house for once. A night with friends, no guys vying for your attention, no pressure to choose someone, just…fun. You deserve that at least.

You: Hi Nanami. Thank you so much for the offer. I’ll see you all tonight.

He texts back within a few minutes.

Nanami Gojo’s Love Bun: Wonderful. See you tonight.

- - - - - -

The door to Nanami and Gojo’s apartment swings open, Satoru’s eyes literally beaming under the hallway lights. His brows draw together in confusion, head tilted to the side as he peers down at you. It may also be because you look like a tired sack of shit after all this time wallowing in your bedroom. But Satoru, the great friend he is, doesn’t comment on it.

“Hey? What are you doing here?” He steps aside, leaving room for you to come in. You move past him, already seeing Nanami setting their small, round dining table.

“Nanami invited me for dinner,” you explain, your answer being met with an “ah” from Satoru as he moves around you, motioning for you to take a seat at the table while he heads into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses for you and Nanami.

“Hello,” Nanami greets you as he plates the goddamn gourmet meal he made tonight. Any time you’ve been to Nanami and Satoru’s place, he’s always in the kitchen making something. Their house always smells like a damn Michelin restaurant

“Hey Nanami,” you return his greeting, as you sit down. Nanami and Satoru take a seat next to each other on the other side and Satoru pops open the bottle, pouring the wine into both your glass and Nanami’s. As usual, Satoru sticks to whatever sweet juice he’s in the mood for.

“This looks so good, Ken,” Satoru grins, leaning to the side to rest his head on Nanami’s shoulder. Nanami doesn’t acknowledge the compliment, but you can see the pink lightly dusting his cheeks. Nanami is the first to raise his utensils, never wanting to waste a moment to eat. As long as you’ve known Nanami and Satoru, dinner at their place has always been a quick experience. The moment the food hits the table, Nanami is all in, ready to judge his own cooking. It’s actually funny to watch his eyes close and his brows knit together on first bite as he assesses his creation. You and Satoru watch him with hardly concealed amusement. Satoru glances at you and grins, shaking his head. He looks back at his partner next to him, eyes sparkling. It makes you smile even harder. 

“Good,” Nanami voices to himself as he loses the concentrating look on his face. Satoru shakes his head again, picking up his own utensils to begin eating and you follow suit. There’s a lull in conversation for a bit and then Satoru finally asks what you know he’s been dying to get into. 

“Sooooo…what’s been up with you the last few months?” He nibbles at the food on his fork.

You shrug. “Didn’t Suguru tell you?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you know him. He likes to…embellish.”

You nod, chuckling because it’s so fucking true. Suguru turns everything into the damn Suguru show when he feels like he’s the victim, which you’re beginning to realize is almost always as of late.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” So you fill them in on what’s been happening between you and Suguru over the last few months, your version. “He’s been trying to change. Trying to be better.”

“How so?” Nanami questions, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip of his wine.

“I mean, he’s been doing sweet gestures like sending me flowers and breakfast. He texts me or calls me telling me he misses me. Things he didn’t do before.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, chuckling and you feel your irritation build.

“What?”

“That’s like the bare minimum.” He sighs. “After all this time, he suddenly wants to call you for something besides sex? Send you little gifts? I mean, come on.”

You feel your cheeks warm under Satoru’s scrutiny, because you know he’s right. And you can admit that you may have looked the other way about that fact because you were simply happy he was finally doing it. It’s embarrassing how desperate you were for Suguru to make the most minimal effort that you didn’t see how little he was actually doing.

“I mean…it’s more than he used to do,” you try to defend Suguru because…you don’t even know why.

“He’s love bombing you.” Satoru continues. His bright gaze holds yours and he sees the confusion loud and clear behind your eyes.

“Love…bombing?”

Nanami speaks up this time. “He’s trying to manipulate you into sticking around by giving you the attention and affection you’ve been asking of him for the duration of your…whatever it is.”

Love bombing…Manipulating you? Is that what’s been happening this whole time with Suguru? Suguru had always been straight up with you about his intentions, and while you weren’t particularly okay with it, you had agreed. Once you started seeing Choso too, he said he was fine with it, even said he wanted to be with you and he’d prove it. How was he manipulating you?

Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a very small voice screaming that you’re a fucking idiot.

As if he could see the wheels turning, Nanami interrupts your thoughts when he calls your name.

“Think about it. Satoru and I know about your situation with Suguru. We’ve also known Suguru for a long time, long before you knew him, and well…” he pauses, pursing his lips as if thinking carefully about what he says next. “Can you think of anything that’s happened that would trigger Suguru to suddenly want to be an upstanding partner for you?”

You sigh because you know where he’s going with this. Because the answer is obvious. 

“If I can be candid…” he asks.

You nod your approval. “Yes, of course.”

“It’s the new factor he didn’t account for in your life,” he states factually. And he’s absolutely right.

“I mean, he didn’t start acting like this, didn’t start wanting to change until I started seeing Choso, too.”

Satoru and Nanami nod in unison.

“Suguru doesn’t…share well,” Satoru mutters. “Doesn’t like other people trying to take what’s his.”

“I’m not his,” you affirm, almost defensively. “He’s told me that plenty of times.”

“Yeah, but that was before he saw you making eyes at Choso at the skatepark,” Satoru says. “You know he broke his skateboard when he saw Choso kiss you at the park?”

You want to laugh, but not because it’s funny. You want to laugh because everything is starting to dawn on you now; your entire situation with Suguru, how maybe you’ve been letting him act how he has because while he’s not really committing to anything, he’s giving you just enough to keep you attached. He’s been love bombing you, as Satoru said.

“He told me, yeah…on the date he took me on.”

Nanami and Satoru share a look and Satoru sighs.

“And Choso? How does he feel about all of this with Suguru?” Satoru asks.

Choso…

“He’s…” Your mind thinks back to your last real interaction with Choso, the sadness in his eyes when he confronted you about Suguru.

It’s always going to be him, isn’t it?

“He was okay with it at first, that I was still seeing Suguru and getting to know him at the same time. Somewhere along the way, that changed.”

“As expected,” Satoru chimes in. “I don’t know Choso at all, but with how interested he’s always seemed to be in you, he never struck me as a casual relationship type.”

“No…” You think about all the time you’ve spent with Choso and how understanding he’s always been with you, how he told you he’d wait for you to, how he’s always only ever been committed to you, even when traveling for competition. All the effort that he’s put into getting to know you, show you he cares for you. He’s never made you doubt his intentions, never made you nervous about where you stood with him.

And yet, you made him feel that way.

You treated Choso the way Suguru treats you, thinking he’d just always be there.

You rub your hands over your face, the feel of tears prickling at your waterline.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” you whisper, trying to hold back the sob. “I’m so stupid.”

Nanami shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab hold of your wrist. He pulls one of your hands away from your face so you can see him clearly. 

“You’re not stupid. Anyone could be in your situation. Are you maybe a little selfish for wanting to make Suguru change for you and hold onto Choso as well?”

“Yep! For dragging Choso along…” Satoru announces. “But honestly? So is Suguru for how he’s dragged you along all this time and made you feel like he was going to suddenly become this better person.”

“I’ve just wanted this side of Suguru for so long. It was nice to finally get it, but I just feel stupid for how long it took me to see that it’s always been this, that even with the promises he’s made, he’ll always be Suguru…And I feel like an asshole for how I’ve been treating Choso…He’s always been good to me.” You sniffle softly, wiping at your eyes. “Always. Without me asking.”

“You can always make that right,” Nanami notes as Satoru leans over, laying his head on Nanami’s shoulder.

You’ve been watching them throughout dinner, throughout this conversation. It’s their little touches throughout that you notice, their glances at each other, the way they share pieces of food with each other without the other asking, their unspoken language. There’s so much love between them in the smallest things they do. Pure, genuine love. 

You imagine what it would be like to have an actually healthy, functioning relationship. To be with someone who wants you and only you, and won’t ever hold back from proving it to you. You want that, you really do.You could have that. You could have all of that if you stopped fucking around and just made a choice. And made the right one.

- - - - - -

You leave Nanami and Satoru’s apartment shortly after dinner, thanking them for stepping in and opening your eyes. Your mind reels as you mull over everything you discussed. Everything is piecing itself together for you; being strung along by Suguru for all this time, your excitement when he finally decided he wanted to change, even through your apprehensiveness you had hope.

You may have enjoyed the attention Suguru was giving you, even if it was annoying most times. It was him finally doing what you had been asking for all this time.

And then there was Choso, who had been nothing but patient until just recently. It dawns on you that between you two, he saw Suguru for who he was. It seems he always had and even then he waited for you to come to your senses. That is, until he couldn’t anymore. He made his feelings clear at the photoshoot. Choso had never outright shown his jealousy or disdain of your feelings for Suguru – did you even have real feelings for Suguru anymore? You hardly saw him. You spent most of your time with Choso anyway. 

What were you even hoping to get from Suguru if he actually had changed? A real relationship? Commitment to only you? A relationship with both him and Choso?

What the fuck have you actually been doing all this time? With both of them?

Your phone rings in your pocket and you fish it out, your boss's name popping up on the screen and you answer.

“Mr. Yaga…hello.”

He gets straight to the point. “We’ve closed the photoshoot investigation. Let me start by saying this…what you do with your free time and who you do it with is a non-factor here. These skaters are not under contract with us. The issue here was the violence that took place.”

You nod along as he speaks. “Yes, I understand.”

“Now, that being said, Mr. Zenin has taken full responsibility for his actions and has apologized…” he pauses for a moment, clearing his throat. “This is all coming from his agent, so, do with that what you will. Anyway, you can thank Mr. Kamo for coming in and giving a written statement. We were able to take that into account and present it to Mr. Zenin, so given that Mr. Zenin escalated the situation, you’ll be able to return to work.”

There’s another long pause from Yaga and you almost think he’s hung up until his deep voice rings through the phone again. “Off the record…Take the next week off, gather your thoughts, get your shit together please because we cannot afford another instance of your personal life leaking into your professional one.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir. Thank you.” You end the call. You feel like you can’t breathe, your heart leaping into your throat. You have a job. You still have a job! And it’s all thanks to Choso. 

You swipe your phone, selecting the voicemail Choso left you a couple days ago. Your heart is pounding so hard, adrenaline still rushing after your conversation with Nanami as Choso’s voice rings clear through the speaker.

“Hey. I…um,” he clears his throat, his voice tense with nerves. “I know you probably don’t want to speak to me and honestly? That’s valid. I understand. I acted out of character and embarrassed you on what should have been your day. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t begin to express that enough. I spoke with your boss…Yaga? Nice guy…um…” He’s rambling and you’re standing in Nanami and Satoru’s hallway grinning like an idiot as you listen. “Anyway, I took full responsibility for instigating the fight. I told Yaga that our personal…whatever we have doesn’t impact your work in the slightest.” He pauses. “And neither does your…whatever you have with Suguru. He agreed.” You bite down softly on your bottom lip. “I told him that if Naoya pursues anything legally, I’ll take responsibility but Yaga doubts he will. Thinks that little worm wouldn’t be stupid enough to make himself look even worse than what the article published after they pulled him from the lineup.”

What?

They pulled Naoya? Yaga didn’t mention that.

“When you get a chance, if you want to, will you please call me back? I’d really like the chance to sit down and just…talk to you…bye.”

You listen to Choso’s voicemail two, three, maybe four more times before you finally leave Nanami and Satoru’s apartment building. You know exactly where you’re going next.

- - - - - -

Your fists lightly tap the door to the apartment ahead of you. Your hands are trembling and you’re pretty sure your anxiety is dripping from your pores. When the day started, you hadn't imagined that you’d end up here. You started the day sad, confused, angry. And you’ve ended it with clarity. Even if it took you weeks to get here, you got here. 

It only takes a minute before the door opens, dark eyes meeting yours, framed by the raven strands hanging loosely around them.

“Hey, I’m glad you came,” he says, voice making your heart…do nothing. Interesting…He steps aside so you can come in.

“Hey, Suguru.” You shake your head when he gestures for you to come inside again. “That’s okay. This won’t take long.”

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

A/N: DLSKFJKDJ READERRRR GODDDD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!

Taglist: @mimiszworld @mighty-luna @re-dd0 @k4zuhasleaf @nekonanamiiii @Sacvh @suguju @watyousayin @nothisispatrick300 @sukunasseventhfinger @mykyoon @athenaholmesher @nobody289x @OUTTHEBASEMENTNAE @alpacapum @cherribxio @gloomiigloom @xocreedvo @ficti0nalslxt @getousbabymama @510hz

[samptlay]

To My Sweetheart Who Carries A Wounded Heart ~ Info.

Blade & Reader's Relationship

Series Masterlist, Chapter 1 🤍, Chapter 2 🖤, Chapter 3 🤍, Chapter 4🖤, Chapter 5🤍, Chapter 6🖤, Chapter 7🤍

Being childhood best friends, they knew everything about each other and been there for all of the other's milestones.

Reader describes Blade as his soulmate and is the only person throughout the whole series who calls him "Ren."

They met in kindergarten or preschool (I forgot what I wrote for that) and the reader kept on bothering him until he acknowledged her and proved to care for her, and since then has been inseparable.

It goes deeper into detail in Chapter 2:

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52453421/chapters/132797800

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/samptlay/737693316678828032/to-my-sweetheart-who-carries-a-wounded-heart-ch

Before meeting Levi, (the reader's current husband) reader would call Blade at least 4 times a week and they would go out together 2-to 3 times a week. Lots of people thought of them as a couple, but both the reader and Blade would shut down the idea.

If the two of them were honest, the attraction and romantic tension were there. There was one night that the two had made out under the influence back in high school as seniors, but the two of them both agreed to just not speak of it. (Blade thinks about it every few months.)

However, none of them had ever made a move. And this is because of the phase he went through during high school. During the beginning of their sophomore year, Blade had started to hang out with guys who thought they knew better than everyone else. Guys who thought girls were just objects made for their satisfaction. Though it didn't change the way Blade acted around the reader, he was arrogant and an overall bastard to everyone else.

A bastard with a handsome face that had ladies all over him. He started to smoke and drink (not enough for him to be an alcoholic or anything, this is what also led to the make-out sesh with the reader one night) He had dozens of girlfriends throughout those years and cheated on them all. Even when he found someone he was actually interested in, he couldn't help but give in to the temptation of other females. So in summary, he was a total player who couldn't commit himself to someone for anything.

This behavior sadly faded into his early years of adulthood. He had different girls running in and out of his apartment every few weeks.

*Switching to 2nd POV, sorry.

You always scolded him about it, worried he would catch something or end up knocking a girl up though he always insisted he played it safe. He admired you even more during those times, because you never seemed to judge him for it. However, you were off limits, out of reach.

This also happened to be around the time you and Levi got married. Blade knew he couldn't commit himself to you, so he didn't have anything to say when someone else swept you off your feet. That doesn't mean he didn't feel anything at all. He took at all the frustration of not being there for you on other women, and got into a bad drinking habit.

Not exactly an alcoholic, but still. You let Blade know you would avoid being alone with him for a long while until you completely have your partners trust to come see him alone. Though Blade understood, it still made his heart ache.

It wasn't until he lost his job in a very risky project he wasn't even supposed to be working on in his company, that he sobered up. (Something like in the game.) During this period, he only had enough savings to last him 4-5 months but it would run out quickly. You had tried to offer him help but Levi wouldn't let you, saying you were being "too nice" and on your way to "giving Blade the wrong idea.".

When I eventually got to one month of unemployment, he was at the gym trying to gather his thoughts while in his own little bubble until a man named "Elio" approached him. Apparently Blade had been watched for about a year according to him and had no idea. Elio said that he knew Blade was running out of cash and offered him a job with a salary that would have people bending backs for. The requirements of the job were tight and required his whole life to fall into Elio's hands, but Blade was desperate and broke.

He didn't have time to entertain women or get wasted. The work was definitely sketchy, and he knew all the things he weren't all legal. He's been under-cover, stolen, fought, involved in fraud and more. All of this seemed to wake him up to true adult life and look back at his past self in absolutely disgust. Of course, you were stoked and over the moon about his new found maturity and even seemed to be around more, just because you felt a lot more comfortable & secure. with this Blade.

Yet, you had no idea what caused the change and always pressed him about it, a little concerned about his choice of field since you swore that Golden Watch he had on was more than both you & his savings combined. Each & every time, he gently shut you down and avoided the topic, deciding that this would be the one wall you'd never be able to break with him. After two years, you let it go and to be honest it caused a small strain in between the two of you since you though he didn't trust you anymore, which wasn't true. He was just silenced.

But you two were still each other's favorite person. Even if you were married, Blade was your soulmate. You've texted him at least 3 times a week throughout your whole life and make sure he never feels forgotten, vice-verse.

But as of the last three years, you seemed to be getting worn down more and more, day-by-day. Each month, the amount of times you'd call him crying because of arguing with your husband increase and he swears that he would have kidnapped you himself up and out of that place long ago if you'd let him.

End of 2nd POV.

In conclusion, Blade & Reader are strictly platonic even though there is little romantic tension, it's more of a click when it comes to the two. They never judge each other for anything and if one party calls, the others is zooming over there in an instant, no matter who there partners are.

Note this, Blade has always wished him and Reader had gone out in their early highschoolers years. Then perhaps his whole life would be turned around, as well as having a ring on his own finger.

And if you weren't married as of now, he would have proposed the moment he left his past self behind. But that's not the case. So for now, he'll admire you from where he currently is.

But Reader knows he loves her. And Blade knows reader loves him too.

Taglist: @msun1c0rn @anime1fan2 @skyl8ver, @umi-adxhira, @lovingnahida @immahuman @faellell @uhfhfhfhf @ssecylia @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @markexplanation @meowmeowraven @xdrin

[strictlyfavorites]

Liberals can try to argue against it, but they don't use logic to argue against it, they just jump to "he's racist" "he's misogynistic" "he's weird." Trump isn't racist, he's actually helped the black community with a better economy, lowest rate of unemployment, and empowering blacks with great jobs and business opportunities as well as great education. Misogynistic? No he isn't. He's surrounded himself with great powerful women, and helps young women learn and understand they can do anything in life, and aren't 'born in the wrong body'. He also wants women to thrive in their sports, and not have some woke biological male who pretends to be a woman, beat them in female sports. To think it's okay to have a biological male punch a woman in boxing at the Olympics, is just disgusting and immoral. Anyone who supports that has no heart, and is clearly deranged. He's weird? You lefties allow drag queens (men in tights, with wigs and fake breasts) to wave their genitals in the faces of kids, and tell them that they're in the wrong body. You tell kids that sex is great, and they should explore it...as children! That's disgusting pedophile behavior. No child should learn about butt plugs, sex toys, sex acts, etc. Let the kids be kids. "Hey Teacher! Leave Them Kids Alone!" Trump believes in God & Christ, you lefties believe in nothing and worship Satan and the Cabal.

[appalachiananarchist]

When I see posts romanticizing the “traditional SAHM gender role” home structure, I think about the women in my life still trapped by it. This structure is still the expectation where I live, so I have seen it play out in all (yes, all – my ongoing status as single and employed has earned me the moniker of “odd”) my female relatives and friends. From extensive experience I have learned that when you give someone power within a relationship (such as, financial power) it will eventually get abused. I think about the men in my family who have used their financial power over their wives to force her to stay in an unsafe relationship. I think about the women who put up with abuse, sometimes unspeakably horrific abuse, or infidelity because they are considered unemployable without any professional skills/work history and have no personal savings.

Grown adults are free to make the choices they wish, but I worry that cutesy videos of bread-baking and meal prepping “for the hubby” obscure the very real risks of this lifestyle. You will be placing your access to healthcare, food, and shelter in the hands of another person, and if things go wrong, that will be used against you. It has been used against thousands and thousands of other “you’s” who never thought it would be, that he was different, that the relationship was solid. I just want women to know the risks and be prepared. Maintain your own separate savings (and if he balks at the idea, run). Consider some part time or from-home work, even if it is just intermittent, to minimize your employment gap and keep up some professional skills (and if he balks at the idea, run). Make sure you have at least 1-2 close relationships outside the home who could help you in an emergency (and if he tries to interfere with those relationships, run). You are placing your entire life in the hands of a person who is not taking equivalent risks or making equivalent sacrifices in the relationship. If this is the path you choose, know if is not risk-free. Be smart and be prepared.

I hope this does not come across as overly forward. This is a subject that has colored every part of my life, so it tends to hit some nerves. You all have no idea the stuff I have been through or the stuff that I have seen. No idea.

[blankwashed]

(READ THIS FIRST)

The story has nothing 18+ except the female is an adult actress. That’s all.

In the dimly lit room of his cramped apartment, Toji sat hunched over his laptop, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen before him. It was a familiar scene, one that had become all too routine in his solitary existence. With each click of the mouse, he delved deeper into a world of fantasies and fleeting pleasures, seeking solace in the images that offered temporary respite from his troubled mind. As he was unemployed, he would spend less time going out and wouldn’t shower often. Unemployment loomed over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over his already fragile sense of self-worth.

Despite the chaos of his current reality, his thoughts often drifted to happier times spent with his wife, Fushiguro. Their laughter once filled the very room he now occupied, a testament to the love and joy they shared. But those memories now seemed distant, overshadowed by the emptiness that lingered in her absence. Outside, the world carried on, oblivious to the silent struggles of a man who had long since lost himself in the labyrinth of his own addiction.

After her passing, he didn't want to be around people anymore. Their home, which used to be lively, became quiet and empty. Toji felt like he couldn't handle being around others without her. So, he stayed inside his apartment all the time, avoiding going out or talking to anyone. Even simple things like going to the store to get groceries felt hard, and he felt safest staying at home where things were familiar.

As time passed, Toji found himself increasingly drawn to watching pornographic content online. It became a way for him to escape from the pain and loneliness that engulfed him after Fushiguro's death. He even took her name as his last name. The lewd images and videos provided a temporary distraction, numbing his mind to the harsh realities of his life. Each click brought a fleeting sense of relief, a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume him. Before long, it became a habit, a cycle of seeking solace in the virtual embrace of strangers, while the real world faded away.

In his desperation for connection, Toji even began donating money to some of the porno companies, despite not having a job. It was a foolish decision. Each click brought a fleeting sense of relief. Before long, it became a habit, a cycle of seeking solace in the virtual embrace of strangers, while hiding from the real world.

There was one porn actress in particular whom Toji grew particularly fond of watching, Sola Aoi. Her presence on screen evoked emotions in him that surpassed the usual arousal from watching usual pornographic videos. She made him feel seen and understood in a way that was exhilarating.

Toji settled into his routine, preparing to indulge in his habitual escape into the world of online pornography. As he navigated through the familiar array of videos, his gaze fell upon a new upload from the actress he had grown particularly fond of watching. Intrigued, he clicked on the video, expecting another fleeting moment of distraction from his troubles. However, what he found was far more surprising. In the video, the actress made a startling announcement: she would be meeting with the viewer who donated the most amount of money to her.

Toji, blurry and consumed by desire, had donated close to all of his savings in his bank account before closing his laptop to sleep.

On the next few days as he was about to shut down his laptop and retire for the night, an email notification caught his eye. Curious, he clicked on it, expecting another spam message in his inbox. However, his jaw dropped as he read the e-mail.

It was a notification from the website hosting a contest, congratulating him on being the top donor and winner of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend a day with Sola.

Toji blinked in disbelief, reading the message over and over again to make sure he wasn't imagining things. It wasn't until he saw the confirmation details and the ecstatic comments from Sola that the reality of his victory sank in. He wasn't the best dad or even the best adult but hey, at least he won something.

Toji stood awkwardly before Sola, still reeling from the shock of winning the contest. Sola's bright smile put him at ease, though, as she greeted him warmly.

"It’s Toji, right? I can't believe you won the contest! You really went all out," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. Toji shifted uncomfortably, not used to being the center of attention from such a pretty and sexy female. "Yeah, it's... uh, unexpected, to say the least. I mean, I just did what I could," he replied modestly, scratching the back of his neck.

She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "Well, you definitely did something right. You were the top donor by a long shot," she pointed out, admiration in her voice. Toji shrugged, still processing the surreal turn of events. "I guess luck was on my side for once," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

Sola's gaze softened as she regarded him. "Or maybe it was fate. Who knows? But I'm glad you're here. I've been looking forward to meeting you," she confessed, her sincerity shining through while she was checking his well-built body out.

Toji's cheeks flushed at her words, feeling a warmth spread through him. "Really? I mean, I'm just a guy who watches too much porn. Nothing special or new," he replied, trying to downplay his own significance.

Sola chuckled again, shaking her head. "Don't talk so lowly about yourself, Toji. There's more to you than meets the eye. Trust me, I can tell," she assured him, a playful glint in her eyes.

Toji couldn't help but smile at her words, feeling a flicker of confidence stir within him. "Well, I do try. So, what do you say we make the most of our day together? Any requests?" Toji asked, his enthusiasm showed.

"You won the contest, so I'd let you pick sweetie," she winked at him, making him blush.

Sola had grace and charm, with luminous eyes and a warm smile. Oh how he wished that she was to call his.

As Toji glanced down at his own clothing, a embarrassment of self-consciousness washed over him. His attire, once acceptable for his former life as a sorcerer killer now seemed out of place in the presence of someone like Sola. There was no way she would date anyone with such outdated fashion sense. With a sigh, he realized that if he wanted to make a good impression to her and everyone else, he needed to change—starting with his wardrobe and perhaps even his hairstyle. Letting out a big sigh, he turned to Sola, clearing his throat nervously.

"Sola, I've thought about it," he began, his voice tentative. "I could really use your help with something."

She turned to him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Of course, Toji. What could I do to help you?"

Toji hesitated, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. "Well, it's just... I've been feeling like I need a change lately. You know, a new look. My clothes, my hairstyle... they're all a bit... outdated."

Sola studied him for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "I see what you mean," she replied gently. "You know, Toji, people need to change for the better. And I'd be more than happy to help you."

Toji and Sola made their way to one of Japan's largest Uniqlo stores, the bustling energy of the city streets fading into the background as they stepped inside. Sola's eyes sparkled with excitement as she surveyed the array of clothing and accessories that lined the shelves.

"Toji, look around. They have everything we need to give you a fresh new look," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious. Toji couldn't help but smile at her eagerness, feeling a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support.

"Well, in that case, the only thing I really need is you," he joked, a mischievous glint in his eye. A flush of pink crept into Sola's cheeks as she stifled a giggle, her laughter ringing out like music in the air.

"You charmer" she teased, swatting playfully at his arm. "Come on, let's find you something that'll make you look like a whole new man."she said while dragging his arm closer to the rack of clothing.

With Sola's keen eye for fashion, she effortlessly selected multiple outfits for Toji to try on. Handing them to him with a playful smile, she encouraged him to head to the changing room to see how they looked.

"Alright, Toji, time to look more handsome," she teased, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Go ahead and try these on. I can't wait to see how they look on you!" Toji accepted the clothes with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity, grateful for Sola's guidance in this unfamiliar territory. No woman has picked clothes for him since his mother did for him as a child.

As he disappeared into the changing room, Sola couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, eager to witness the transformation.

Toji emerged from the changing room, adorned in the first outfit Aoi had selected, and the sight nearly took her breath away. The clothing hung on him perfectly, accentuating his features in all the right places.

Sola's jaw practically dropped in awe as she took in the transformation before her. "Toji, wow," she breathed, her eyes wide with admiration. "You look... incredible." Her voice was filled with genuine awe, unable to hide her surprise at just how handsome he appeared.

Toji couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at her reaction, his confidence bolstered by her words. Emboldened by her approval, he flashed her a shy smile, the warmth of her gaze washing over him like a ray of sunshine.

"I'm sure the rest of the ones I picked out for you would look as good as this one does. Come on darl, we need to get you a new haircut. You currently look like a homeless man, dear~" she snickered and took all the chosen clothing to the cash register.

He blushed at her comment and fiddled with his long grown straight black hair. She's right. It's been forever since he went to an actual hair saloon.

As Toji and Sola continued their shopping excursion she couldn't resist commenting on Toji's slightly unkempt appearance.

"Darling, we simply cannot let you roam around looking like a scruffy stray," she teased, her voice dripping flirateously. "I must take you to the nearest hair salon. Trust me, I know the hairstylist. He will work wonders on you! Your hair is positively crying out to be redone!"

Toji couldn't help but chuckle at Sola's comedic punches, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Sola exchanged a knowing glance with Toji, her lips quirking up in a fond smile.

As Toji and Sora arrived at the hair salon, Toji couldn't help but notice the familiarity of the place. It was owned by Tamura, Sora's own friend. Stepping inside, they were greeted warmly by Tamura, who welcomed them with open arms. Toji observed as Sora and Tamura exchanged kisses on the cheek, a customary greeting that reminded him of the French. Despite knowing that it was a gesture between friends, Toji couldn't shake off the twinge of jealousy that crept into his heart. Shaking off his feelings, Toji forced a smile and greeted Tamura.

As Sora discussed with Tamura, the hairstylist, she asked him to give Toji a haircut that is suited with the current trends. Curious to understand Toji's style preferences better, Sora turned to him and casually asked about his age. Toji responded with, "23 years old." Sora couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at Toji's answer—he was a year younger than her. With a playful grin, she complimented him on his youthful appearance, teasing him about his good genes. Toji chuckled modestly, feeling a sense of pride at Sora's lighthearted praise.

Sora decides to make a playful suggestion to Tamura. "Tamura, let's give Toji here a haircut that will make him stand out when he goes out to flirt with the ladies," she says with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We want him to look his best, right?"

Toji chuckles nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed by the attention. "I'm not sure about all this flirting stuff, Sora," he admits with a sheepish grin. But Sora waves off his concerns with a laugh. "Oh, come on, Toji! You've got to embrace your single life while you can. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone special," she teases, her words laced with playful encouragement.

As Sora suggests the haircut for Toji to stand out while flirting with females, Toji's mind drifts elsewhere. In reality, he doesn't care about attracting anyone else; his heart beats only for Sora. He wants to look his best for her, to catch her eye and make her see him in a different light. He's drawn to her in a way he can't explain, feeling as though he already knows all her personalities from watching her porn videos. But beneath the surface, he longs to unravel the layers of the real Sora, the one behind the screen. With a determination, Toji silently vows to seize this opportunity to get closer to her, to show her the depths of his feelings in hopes of winning her heart.

"I think he'd suit a middle-length wolf cut," Tamura says, placing his hand on his chin as he sizes up Toji, his gaze lingering on him like he's examining a specimen. Toji shifts uncomfortably under Tamura's eyes, feeling a bit like he's under a microscope. "A wolf cut, huh?" Toji repeats, trying to envision the style in his mind. Sora nods enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yes, I think that would look fantastic on you, Toji! It'll definitely make you so hot!" she chirps, her voice filled with approval. Toji can't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Sora for her support, even as his heart races at the thought of her admiring him with such enthusiasm.

After Toji's hair is styled by Tamura, he looks in the mirror and is stunned by the transformation. The middle-length wolf cut frames his face perfectly, giving him a rugged yet stylish look. Combined with his new clothes, he feels like a completely different person—a bad boy with a hint of charm. As he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he can't help but smirk at the reflection staring back at him.

Sora's eyes widen in admiration as she takes in his new appearance. "Wow, Toji, you look amazing!" she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine awe. Sora’s heart was beating Toji grins at her reaction, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. With his newfound confidence, he's ready to take on whatever the night may bring.

As her eyes lay on the transformed Toji, she feels a flutter in her chest, a subtle quickening of her heartbeat. A sudden rush of heat floods her body, causing her cheeks to flush with warmth. She's taken aback by the intensity of her reaction, feeling a mixture of surprise and excitement swirling within her. Unable to tear her gaze away, she finds herself captivated by his presence, her thoughts consumed by the sight of him.

"Thanks, Sora. This was all because of you," Toji says with genuine gratitude, his voice filled with appreciation. With his newfound confidence, he feels more brave than ever, and he stands up next to Sora, prepared to express his gratitude with a hug.

As Sora was initially shocked by the embrace, she couldn't deny the pleasant surprise of Toji's cologne, which enveloped her senses in a comforting and familiar scent. However, as she eased into the hug, she realized that there was more to her reaction than just the cologne. Beneath the surface, she felt a sense of warmth and connection with Toji, a feeling that went beyond mere physical attraction. It was the sincerity and gratitude in his embrace that touched her heart, reminding her of the genuine connection they had formed. In that moment, Sora couldn't help but acknowledge that her fondness for Toji ran deeper than she had initially realized, sparking a newfound awareness of her feelings towards him.

Sora shook her head gently, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush. "It's nothing, Toji dear," she murmured, her voice warm with affection. "You were the winner, and I'm just happy to have been a part of your transformation." With a tender smile, she reached up to gently kiss his cheek, her eyes shining with pride and genuine fondness. "Let's head out now, shall we?" she suggested, her tone light and playful as she steered the conversation towards their next destination.

Sora's heart skipped a beat as Toji confidently took her hand in his, a rush of warmth flooding through her veins at the unexpected gesture. Despite the shock that pulsed through her, she managed to maintain her outward composure, offering him a small, albeit slightly shaky, smile.

"Hmm, where to now, babe?" Toji said with a smirk, his fingers gently intertwining with hers as if they were a couple. Sora's pulse quickened at the intimate gesture, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and excitement.

Sora felt a flutter of anticipation in her chest. She hadn't expected him to take charge in such a bold way, but there was something undeniably thrilling about his confidence. With a sense of newfound excitement, she glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. As an adult video actress, she’s received touches of all sorts before but Toji…made her feel different.

"Toji, I..." Sora began, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words. But before she could finish her sentence, Toji flashed her a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"I was thinking we could look at some clothes for you," he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Let’s see if our styles match,"

Sora's heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, her mind reeling with disbelief. She had never expected Toji to be so forward, but the thought of spending more time with him filled her with a rush of excitement. Despite the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, she managed to muster a smile, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and anticipation.

"Sure, I'd love that," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. As Toji led her towards the nearest clothing store, Sora couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and connection that seemed to radiate between them. She couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something truly special.

[arsonistmoth]

Local nonbinary nerd really needs help paying rent.

2023 has been a rough year as I was fired in January over my internet connection going out for a few days. The joy of remote work for a piece of shit company. Since then I've applied for job after job after job and was safe with unemployment for a time. However that has run out.

I live in a red state so not only is there nowhere safe to go if I do lose my apartment, seeing as I am visibly not female presenting, but there is no rental assistance to be had here. Because of course there isn't with covid 'gone'

Long story short I need 512usd by the 5th or I will not have a roof over my head for myself and my two furbabies.

Any help, any at all, would be so greatly appreciated.

Paypal: @ Goatsgalore96

Venmo: @ CallenGGoat

I also have commissions open as well as 2 pride YCH options.

Any help is so very appreciated

[metamatar]

In 2022, the share of unemployed youths in the total unemployed population was 82.9%. Further, the report mentioned that the share of educated youths among all unemployed people increased 11.5% from 54.2% in 2000 to 65.7% in 2022. Among the educated (secondary level or higher) unemployed youths, women accounted for a larger share (76.7%) than men (62.2%).

The report pointed out that in 2022, the unemployment rate among youths was six times greater for those who had completed secondary education or higher (18.4%) and nine times higher for graduates (29.1%) than for persons who could not read or write (3.4%). Moreover, this trend was higher among educated young women (21.4%) than men (17.5%), especially among female graduates (34.5%), compared to men (26.4%) with similar qualifications