#labour wave

[sending-wishes]

alright here we go:

@kidspawn tagged me to shuffle my playlist and list the first ten songs that come up (thank you VERY much btw i love it)

(this is being done in real time lol)

Old Enough (Sara Kays)

like JENNIE (JENNIE)

LABOUR (the cacophony) (Paris Paloma)

Petals on the Moon (Wasia Project)

Closet (Sara Kays)

ATTITUDE (IVE)

Porcelain (Em Beihold)

해야 (HEYA) (IVE)

Maybe Life Is Good (Em Beihold)

Imaginary Friend (ITZY)

tagging (only if you want!!): @sweet-thyme, @bananasunflower, @theghostofabee and whoever else wants to do this !!!

[darklordmandy]

tbf who wouldn't

[hairtusk]

Marilyn French, The Women's Room (1977)

[tinkerbitch69]

In all seriousness as happy as I am to finally have the tories out, keir starmer’s labour is only marginably better and still atrociously right wing so I will be spending the next four years continuing to complain about the uk government and keir starmer’s stupid fucking face 😁

[theseimmortalcoils]

Eternal music.

[goatswithtoast]

Pt. 4, Earth Kingdom, Cole

The group has been 'on the road' for a bit now, and they've helped wherever they could. Stopped a robbery in one town, found a lost goat-dog in another and had Ultra be a float in one town's parade ("So realistic!")

They decided to stay in a town to get more supplies and let Ultra rest for a few days. However, once they reached the town center, they were faced with a mile-long queue beside a well. When they asked why it was so long, they learned the trench running beside the town was a recently dried up river, following the construction of a dam. One annoyed queuer comments that 'between the river drying up and the damage happening to the town, this is the worst year they've had in ages!'

Lloyd pieces the damage to the town and the loss of a natural feature together and concludes that the spirits must be mad their river is gone. But since he's the Avatar, he'll have this fixed for them in no time! Nya offers to speed the well line up, and fills everyone's barrels in half the time the well would've taken. The gang pool their funds to pay for a room in the local inn for a couple of nights, luckily the receptionist was in the well line and gave them a discounted price as thanks.

Later that night, Lloyd had a dream of a full river getting lower until completely dry, a dark haired boy facing off with a glowing monster and a dam breaking apart.

The next morning they head over to the well again to help out. Lloyd practices filling a couple of barrels, but joins Zane in carrying them when he gets tired. Nya had filled a good few barrels before the ground begins to rumble. A house starts quivering and crumbling to the ground. A dark haired boy starts to move out of line to help the family move away from the house, but he's pulled back by what could only be his father. The rumbling stops as quickly as it started, leaving the gang completely and utterly confused. Lloyd could've sworn he'd seen that boy somewhere before.

That night, when the town was all asleep, a bright, powerful beam of light pierced the darkness with a terrible roar. Looking out their window, the gang spots a figure running towards the area the light came from, pleading it to stop. The gang rush outside to help, and as they turn a corner, they're faced with a massive monster with spindly limbs and sharp claws, It's cracked skin looking painfully stretched over it's bones. It unleashed a beam of destruction with each roar. And rushing up to face this beast was the dark haired boy from the well.

"I know why you're upset!" The boy shouted up at the beast. "I have a plan to help, if you'd please listen to m-!" He's cut off with a roar, being forced to dodge a blast. Lloyd runs up to the boy as he took cover on someone's porch. "What's your plan?!" Cole is quite surprised to see someone seemingly appear behind him, and even more so to hear they wanted to help. But if this slightly familiar boy and two friends want to help, then they can. "The spirit's mad because his river's gone. We could break that dam to bring it back and calm the spirit down. Hopefully." Turning to Nya and Zane, Cole clicks where he's seen this group before. "You're the waterbender helping with the well! Perfect! You can help me break the dam and keep the village safe!" Remembering Zane and Lloyd are there, Cole turns to them to asses them. "Are you two benders? I can't remember if I've seen you bend or not."

The River Spirit roars once again and crushes a nearby building. The gang jumps at the noise. "Doesn't matter! If we run up to the dam we can bring the river back before the spirit does too much damage!" Lloyd shouts before darting past the spirit towards the dam. Nya and Zane share a look and run after Lloyd. Cole stays stunned for a few moments before a stomp from the spirit gets him to follow the gang.

Running along the dry riverbed, the gang reach the dam. Cole steps in front of the others to survey the structure. "Ok, I've been up here a few times to find it's weak points, it's reinforced with metal, that means no bending for me. I'll have to hit there first," Cole pointed at the top of the dam "to relieve a small amount of pressure, and then work my way down to the bottom. Could you bend the water back to the river when it starts escaping?" He asked Nya. Nya nodded and moved into position. "Just shout when you're starting dirt boy!" As she moved away, she asked "Lloyd, do you want to try help me?" Cole snapped his head to Lloyd. "So you are a waterbender!" "It's complicated" Lloyd replied as he moved to stand by Nya.

Cole shook his head and turned to Zane. "So what about you? You another waterbender?" Zane fiddled with his hands as he replied with "I do Ice."

"Zane! Go down further to make sure it doesn't flood the town!" Nya shouted over. Zane quickly took the order to avoid that complicated discussion during this dire situation.

Cole had to push his questions to the back of his mind before stepping up to the dam. He took a deep breath in and out, before launching a boulder near the top of the dam. A small crack appeared, along with a small, steady stream of water that Nya quickly bent towards the ideal river path. Cole quickly continued, sending a barrage of boulders to the same spot, enlarging the crack and giving Nya (and Lloyd) more work.

Further down the river, the townspeople had been driven out of their beds and homes for fear of being destroyed. Any close enough to the riverbed spotted a man dressed in white through the darkness from behind their torches' light. One kind man approached him with a torch and lightly tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you ok there young man? Were you living in..." He vaguely gestured to the number of buildings flattened by the spirit. "Oh no, I was only staying in the inn with my friends. We are all quite alright." "Then what brings you outside with us?" "I'm just waiting here to freeze any water that threatens to flood the town once the dam is broken." The man paused, as did a couple of people huddled around that had overheard. Whispers soon started spreading. "Breaking the dam?" "He can't get away with that. They'd skin him alive." "..But we'd get our river back."

Cole had worked his way down the dam, and was now approaching the strongest area, the bottom of it. Breathing heavily and shaking out his limbs, he re-started his assault on the dam. By now, Nya and Lloyd had their hands quite full trying to control the tidal wave of water erupting from the dam. They just about managed to keep the majority of the water in the trench the river used to be. Cole had managed to leave several cracks near the bottom. Looking up at the rushing water and the sheer force of it, he figured one more strong blow would do the trick. Bending one last boulder, he brought it up to his face, took a breath and started building up momentum for a hammer throw.

Slamming the boulder into the dam brought it cracking and buckling down. The amount of water and it's force doubled, overwhelming Lloyd and forcing Nya to take a knee. Cole let out a cheer as he watched the water race down the bends towards the town. However, he caught sight of chunks of rock and metal as debris from the dam mixed with the water.

Looking over to see Nya and Lloyd struggling to control the water, Cole refrained from giving them any more stress. He hoped Zane would spot it and bend it out further down. (though what he meant by 'doing ice' he didn't know. His specialty perhaps?) Cole did his best to prevent as much as he could from falling into the water, and pulling pieces out where he could. However it was soon clear they would have to just wait out the wave.

Down by the town, the people were watching the spirit stomp around their town, still occasionally slamming into a house. Luckily everyone had moved to safety by the dry riverbed. After a few minutes, Zane picked up on a slamming sound from up the hill, separate to the spirit. A few minutes later, the first trickles of water started making their way past the town. Once the stream picked up in speed and size, the townspeople took notice, rushing to see their river return. The spirit itself seemed to slow it's movements.

However the rush of water didn't seem to calm down, and Zane spotted a massive wave rushing down the hill, headed straight to the group gathered by him. "Everyone move back!" he called back to the group while steadying his stance. As the cheers of the people turned to screams, Zane took a deep breath to calm himself first of all, before focusing on the incoming wave. He can do this, he can freeze the wave. He has to, to keep this town safe. To protect it. It doesn't have a waterbender of it's own to do so, Zane must step up. Planting his back foot into the ground, Zane shot his hands to the sky in time with the wave crashing into the bank. The arc was preserved inches from his face in white.

Everyone was frozen in shock for a moment. Several lives were being watched in flashes. Zane slowly unplanted his foot and turned to the crowd. "Is everyone alright?" The crowd went wild. Everyone forgot about the rejuvenated river for a moment as they celebrated this odd boy in white who just saved their lives.

Back up by the now-destroyed dam, the initial wave had passed, giving the group a well needed breather. Nya pushed sopping wet hair out of her face to see Lloyd looking like he could cough up a fish any second he was so drenched. Cole waded over to drop off chunks of dam he had gathered. "That. Was. Amazing!" He gasped out through breaths. "Thank the spirits I didn't go at that by myself. I would've drowned." Nya snorted and coughed. "Well, I could say the same thing to Lloyd here." Lloyd rolled over and coughed out even more water. "Me? I washed out after that wave slapped me in the face!" "Exactly, I had to keep going so to make sure you didn't drown!" Nya slapped him in the face with a wet glove. "I'm not going to be the reason the Avatar dies, no way!" At this, Cole really perked up. "The Avatar? Did she just say you're the Avatar?!" Lloyd sighed and sat up. "Yeah, came from the Southern Air temple. Nya here's my waterbending teacher." Cole just stared, gobsmacked for a few moments before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Of course you came to help break the dam.." He muttered before finally climbing out of the river. "Well then, if the Avatar and his teacher are ready, we'd better head back to the town before the sun's up. I want to see if that spirit's ok."

On the walk back, Cole remembered the other member of the group. "Oh, I meant to ask, what's up with that Zane guy?" he asked the others. "What does 'doing ice' mean?" Nya gave a long sigh. "I hope this is a long walk down, because it's a long story."

Fortunately, the walk downhill was a sufficient amount of time to fill Cole in on Zane's 'ice doing' and Lloyd's 'Avatar doing'. Cole was just about to ask Nya about herself when a huge cheer sounded from ahead. The group broke through the trees to find Zane hoisted off the ground as the town gave him three cheers. Zane spotted the gang as they approached and gave them a small, polite wave. Nya found the situation absolutely hilarious and was reduced to a doubled over ball of laughter.

Amidst the cheers, Cole looked to the town and spotted the Spirit standing amongst a couple of destroyed houses. As it's features filled out and it looked to the river to hear the sound of rushing water mixed with the cheers of the town, it must have decided that all was well and peace had returned to it's home. It then turned it's head to Cole, who stiffened under it's gaze. The Spirit bowed it's head before slowly beginning to disappear. Cole relaxed, and bowed back to the Spirit as it passed back over to the spirit world.

However, the celebrations were cut short by a shout from a dark haired man with a cane. "COLE! Where did you run off to?!" Zane was returned to the ground as the group turned to see what all the fuss was about. Cole froze as his father made his way over to the tree line. Under the scrutiny of his new friends, his entire town and the Avatar, Cole couldn't bring himself to defend himself as his father reminded him that "I had said not to go off 'gallivanting' like this! You'd only get into trouble I said. And what did you do?!" Lou paused as he looked to his son expectantly. As his father's silence dragged on, Cole was forced to mumble the answer his father wanted. "Go out gallivanting... But!-" "You'll be lucky if you get off with community service when the guards find the dam gone!" Lou warned as he grabbed Cole's arm to drag him back home. The crowd parted as they passed, with Lou grumbling about Cole's "Obsession with that dam since it was built... should've locked you up then and there!"

The gang was left standing beside the river as they watched Cole get dragged home. The high of the river returning had been knocked by the sudden interruption, and the townspeople decided it was late and time to go home. After several seconds of dumbfounded staring, Nya started making her way back to the inn for the night with the other two following soon after.

The next morning, the gang packed up out of the inn and started making their way back to the field they left Ultra in. Zane notes that seeing earthbending up close would be beneficial for his training, while Nya replies that having a teacher would be better. Lloyd thought he had found one, but he might not be able to join them.

As they walk past the river, they see the townspeople happily gathering their water with no wait times. Among the people are two similar figures having a hushed conversation. The taller of the two gestures to the people around him, evidently referencing their newly returned happiness. "I just tried to do what was right for the town. And do right by her." The man with the cane looks down for a moment before taking his son's hand. "And I just didn't want you to get hurt." Cole's expression softened before he gave his father a hug.

As the reconciled pair began to walk back to their house, Lloyd ran up to them. He shared how well Cole controlled the destruction of the dam and prevented it's debris from flowing far. Lou was impressed, but confused as to why this boy was telling him this. Lloyd then explained that he was the Avatar, and would be honoured if Cole could teach him earthbending. Both Lou and Cole were taken aback by this offer. In their silence, Lloyd further explained that he had decided to learn the elements while helping as many people as he could. And if Cole accepted, he would join them.

A smile formed on Cole's face at the promise of adventure, helping those who needed it and being asked to teach the Avatar. He turned to his father to gauge his reaction and was met with a face full of worry. He gave a fond sigh before reassuring his father that he'd be ok. His father sighed before agreeing and urging him to pack the right clothes.

Just as the gang had finished fixing the reins to Ultra, Cole strode through the trees, bag in hand, ready to go.

Part 1 (Nya, Zane +Kai) | Part 2 (Lloyd) | Part 2.5 (Morro) | Part 3 (Meetup) | >Part 4 (Cole) | Part 4.5 (Pixal) |

[sciderman]

I’m sorry.I’ll do better.I just didn’t know what exactly to say because I’ve never felt with it before.That and it auto corrected me- But I am deeply sorry.

bless your heart anon – it's okay, i hope that you do take the time to do a little read into the region - it's actually really interesting!

and you know, here's a fun fact i've noticed a lot about people from iran and iraq specifically - the majority of my iranian friends prefer to introduce themselves as "persian" before they say "iranian" - it's kind of funny - and my dad, who's iraqi, much prefers to introduce himself as "babylonian" rather than iraqi - i think it's so interesting to see - that they're not eager to claim the nationality that has been carved out for them by the modern day division of the middle east (as per the sykes–picot partition imposed by the british), but are so proud to proclaim their heritage based on the greater history of their regions and their people. i think it's interesting, i think it's interesting. maybe i should start introducing myself as babylonian, like my dad. sumerian, actually, i think. i've always been so interested in sumerian culture specifically,, (it was one of my special interests, at a time!) and i've done so many research and art projects based in that history... ough. i should get back into it, maybe.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Some feminist circles were open to the ideas promoted by Wages For Housework [WFH]. An editorial in The Other Woman, a feminist newspaper sympathetic to lesbian organizing, reminded its readers that housework was literally everything women did to serve men: “housework is getting coffee for your boss, making love, grocery shopping, going to the movies, serving others, changing your baby’s shitty diaper, looking attractive, being a ‘mother’ to a coop house.” Echoing a stance taken by Selma James, the editorial added, “it is not the money [of a household wage] itself which will give women power, but the struggle to get the wage.” A swift response by WFH clarified its point of view and offered a different definition of lesbianism, but it was not hostile. Whether women were fighting for welfare for single moms or control of their bodies, the letter noted, they were engaging in anti-capitalist struggles, since “money is power” and capitalism “harnesses our bodies, our time, our very personalities” for profit. Other feminists were not sympathetic. Grappling with women’s domestic labour may have been in the political air, but wfh’s call for a wage for housework was rejected by many feminists in Canada and beyond, and some claimed WFH was dogmatically “obstructionist” in its organizing style. Feminist antipathy reflected important material and ideological changes in women’s lives at the time. More and more women, especially those with families, were working for wages: feminists thus prioritized equality in the labour force and challenged the popular image of domesticity as the primary, appropriate, and desired role of all mothers. Many feminists identified this hegemonic, moralizing opinion as a problem, as did some progressive unions, which understood that this ideological construction of domestic femininity propped up an outdated male breadwinner ideal.

Wages for housework was perceived as a retrogressive demand, returning or “chaining” women to the home, perpetuating their oppression. Opponents could point to Selma James’ own writing, which asserted that women’s integration into the labour force was not a viable path to emancipation. Black and socialist feminists had specific critiques: in the latter case, they emphasized the need to socialize, not “privatize,” work associated with domestic labour. Feminist opponents raised a slew of objections: Who would pay? If the state, would women be beholden to state surveillance? Would this discourage collective social services? And so on. When the National Action Committee on the Status of Women (NAC) refused membership to WFH in 1979 because their platforms clashed, the ensuing debate was heated." - Joan Sangster, “Waitresses in Action: Feminist Labour Protest in 1970s Ontario,” Labour/Le Travail 92 (Fall 2023), p. 21-22.

[the-new-typist]

An Anarchist without Adjectives Allow me to introduce a favourite anarchist of mine, my special girl Voltairine de Cleyre (1866–1912). Anarchist, Feminist, Atheist. Mutually Disagreeable Friend to Emma Goldman. Found atheism in a convent. Shot thrice by an obsessive student, who she refused to identify to the authorities out of sympathy for his mental illness and poverty. Buried in the same cemetery as the Haymarket Affair Memorial in Chicago. Below only covers her start, the years 1866-1887.

She was born in Leslie, Michigan to Hector De Claire, a French immigrant socialist who fought in the Union, and Harriet Elizabeth Billings, a New Englander writer with family involved in the abolitionist movement. She was named after the French philosopher Voltaire by her father, and her mother would read to her and her older sister Adelaide the poetry of Lord Byron before bed. Byron’s poetry had a profound impact on Voltairine more than Adelaide, but they both still loved him nonetheless.

Growing up, De Cleyre was described as a wayward by her older sister. Her juvenilia was filled with her love of nature and want. This was no thanks to her family’s poverty, something which caused Harriet to grow distant and Hector more stubborn. In 1879, her father was away at work in Port Huron and never went back home but still financially supported his family, meanwhile Harriet stayed behind in St. Johns, contemplating her situation and caring for Voltairine and the sick Adelaide as a working single mother. Her mother made the decision to send De Cleyre to live with Hector while she tended to her other daughter. O, how the teenage girl hated the next few years.

Now with her father at Port Huron, De Cleyre was enrolled at Our Lady of Lake Huron by the next year, a convent in Sarnia across the American-Canadian border in Lambton County, Ontario. Despite being Protestant, Hector hoped his daughter would be disciplined by the Carmelite nuns and turn away from her idle reading. For instance, as a young girl she’d often climb trees to privately read her beloved Byron atop the branches, amidst the leaves. Luckily, this unwilling act only changed her for the better, but that doesn’t mean she enjoyed her stay. Early into De Cleyre’s education, she described the convent as a prison, so she made her escape plan to swim across the water and hike back home to her mother and sister. This obviously didn’t work as she soon realised it was impossible and was quickly caught, and then sent back to the convent with a notice to her father of her schemes.

At Our Lady, she became educated more in music and improved her French and writing skills, which served her greatly later on. Her anti-Catholic sentiments smoothed over also, she began to admired the Catholics for their charity towards the poor and ill, young De Cleyre even thought of becoming a nun for a moment, but her defiant spirit and rough experience with the nuns prevented her from going through with the idea. She couldn’t understand religious superstition and she quickly turned to skepticism in the convent. This behaviour only caused trouble for her, but at seventeen she graduated from Our Lady of Port Huron as a self-proclaimed atheist with no master but her own will.

The radical youth soon returned home to St. Johns, but she didn’t stay for long. Two years later, she moved up north to Greenville at nineteen in order to find a job as a private tutor by putting her skills to work and hopefully earn money. While working and living with her aunt, De Cleyre became more involved in the freethought movement, an ideology centred around empirical evidence over traditional and dogmatic beliefs. She grew closer and closer to the anarchist movement through her anti-authoritarian atheism and freethinking.

In 1886, De Cleyre moved once again, still remaining in Michigan but out west towards the city of Grand Rapids. She was no longer a private tutor but editor-in-chief to a freethought magazine, The Progressive Age. Throughout her twenties, she expanded her writings and lectured at various venues and gatherings to her fellow freethinkers, sharing her life story and experiences during her years at Our Lady. She’d tour the Midwest and Northeast with hundreds in the audience, but always return to her home state and the various cities she stayed at during her youth by the end of them, although her childhood home in St. Johns would grow quiet on political issues when she visited, her sister and mother disapproved of her new radical path.

Subscribing to a movement that relied on observation and evidence such as Freethought inevitably lead towards interacting with other ideologies, such as the ever-growing movements of women’s suffrage, socialism, communism, and anarchism. De Cleyre’s transformation into a more pronounced leftist was quick. After attending a lecture by the socialist lawyer Clarence Darrow in 1887, and later conversing with the Jewish anarchist population in Pennsylvania, the twenty-one year old labelled herself a socialist, later an individualist anarchist. The latter label of anarchist became more prominent after she heard the news surrounding the Haymarket Affair, when policemen open-fired on various individuals, including anarchist demonstrators and their own, after an explosive was thrown by an unknown individual to stop the in-fighting during a demonstration for a proposed eight-hour workday. At first, De Clayre was enraged by the unknown perpetrator and called for their hanging, but swiftly renounced her anger after Adelaide’s agreement and instead focused on the unjust attacks that blamed the anarchists. She closely followed the aftermath trial and its sentencing of the anarchist “perpetrators” which only created doubt in her towards the “justice” delivered by the legislative system. From 1880 to 1887, De Cleyre underwent a formative process and progression from what began as an adolescent anti-clerical stance at a convent, she had been transformed into an even more determined person with a set vision for her community and those around her. This was only the beginning of her political journey and eventful life.

[snowlithills]

seen some takes on the reform uk pub and like, while its true that political parties having physical space is a crucial idea that the left has mostly let go of, the chance of this pub being some kind of insane tax dodge and/or burning down for the insurance money within a year has got to be approaching 100%

[prlssprfctn]

Since we all agree that people of the Alley of Crime adore Red Hood and believe in him, I think it is time to imagine Jason in a scene similar to the one from OG Spiderman, where his identity is accidentally outted in front of crowd of people, and they all are just choose to protect him and help him out.

So maybe Gotham is facing especially nasty trouble, and vigilantes are on the receiving end this time. So maybe Jason is thrown at the dirty Alley in his part of town, wounded, with helmet flying off, and there is just a crowd of people staring as bleeds out, astonished. And Jason thinks, oh, that's the end — he can go and shoot himself, honestly, because he just failed the man rule every vigilante have: never show your face, never reveal your identity.

But people are... helping him? His eyes are half-open, breath laboured and pained, but all he hears is gentle murmuring:

'God, he is just a kid...'

'He must be younger than my son.'

'Poor child...'

He feels soft elderly hand against his cheek as someone from the crowd, an ex nurse, comes closer to bandage his injuries, while a kid, barely with the size of his helmet, brings it back, sticking out their tongue as they try to place it back on his head, to hide his face.

'It is okay,' the old woman reassures him. 'You are safe with us, son. We hadn't seen anything.'

Jason's eyes sting, because, oh.

It is his people. He loves them. He will die for them.

And they love him just as much.

He still waits for someone to out him, though. But the week ends, the villain is out of the picture, and no one says a thing. The only proof that it ever happened is civilians, who keep waving at Jason — not Red Hood, just Jason — when their paths cross somewhere in the shops or streets.

And that's how he knows that it is them; it is them, and they keep him safe as much as he keeps safe them.

[afieldinengland]

had a long and detailed dream about seeing a play that doesn’t exist

[wave-city-ghaziabad]

https://www.wave-city.in/hardware-store-in-wave-city/

[dostoyevsky-official]

the americans going "i need to leave to europe" and especially the smug europeans saying "america needs to fix its racist, climate change denier voters" are operating on an advanced model of cognitive dissonance. sir starmer's landslide labour country was gripped by race riots a few months ago and handed out five years to climate protesters. nearly every far right party in europe is first or second with youth voters for both genders: RN secured about a third of both 18-24 and 25-34 age groups; young men across the continent said they would vote trump by massive margins. tusk barely beat back orban 2.0 in poland, and his immediate reaction was to double down on fortress europe—something all other parties are doing. EU politicians are so averse to public investment that this fear blew up the german government yesterday.

there is nowhere to run, there is no country "safe" from the global far right wave

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[embrace-the-satan]

Is it just me or is the most popular song of an artist never their best one?