#like girl you make three times my salary. figure it out

[spacebabe51]

in my "I just think it's funny how..." era

[richardsgraysons]

Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids

anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.

tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing

In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.

He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.

What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.

He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.

Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.

Three years later, he put a ring on it.

"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."

Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"

"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"

Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"

You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"

He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."

* * *

Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.

You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.

And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.

You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.

"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.

Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.

Your stupid, lovable, husband.

And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.

You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.

He knew what you were doing. Dammit.

"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"

"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."

He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"

"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."

He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.

"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.

"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.

"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."

"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."

You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.

"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."

"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."

He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."

[aonoexpat]

The rollercoaster that was quitting my job after a week and a half

02-03-2023

Unfortunately, that cafe turned out to be more of a challenge to get away from than I had anticipated. Everything went South last Thursday when the manager called me into the office to talk about my availability, since I had told him I needed more time for busking, because it wouldn't work in the cafe. He was unhappy with me pulling back, and we agreed it wouldn't work out. It seemed like we would go our separate ways perfectly amicably, but then he got back to me and brought up the contract we had, and how it dictated I had to give a 1 week's notice, so I'd have to work another full week. I told him well, the contract also dictates I'm not obliged to work any more than two hours per week. Suddenly, that same contract seemed to lose all relevance to the conversation, and he implored me to just put my head down and work, and not "kick that hornet's nest." This didn't sit right with me, so I had another talk with him about the terms on which we were going to end this contract. He proceeded to tell me how grateful I should be to be offered shifts on the weekend, how "you can't live off of your passion", and even if you try, you "really should cover all your bases first". When I told him I didn't need his advice, he got offended. Our talk was cut short because duty called, so I wiped my tears in the bathroom before getting back to the bar and finishing my shift.

The next day, I called in sick. I was shaking on the couch as I sent the text. I was absolutely terrified. This was not how I've been taught to behave. I have to be professional, I have to be nice, I have to be polite and if my feelings get hurt I should rise above it. I should be a good girl and finish the hours I'm expected to work as I humbly resign because clearly I must have been in the wrong. According to him, I was the one breaching our initial agreement, and he was an authoritative male figure so I felt quite intimidated. Still, my text was accepted and suddenly I was free for the day. That felt wonderfully empowering, and you know what I did? I walked into town and got another job. And another. And another. Now I have my pick of other places that all seem 1000x better than this one.

That Monday he texted me saying how "glad" he was that I was "feeling so much better", because "a friend of his" had seen me busking at the markets Sunday morning (low-key stalker behaviour if you ask me). He told me I was expected to come into work the very next day. This forced my hand a bit, because I had been waiting to officially resign until payday, fearing they might try to withhold my salary once I informed them of my intention to leave. I headed over to Wellington Community Law, who volunteer their time giving out free legal advice to those in need. With their help, I drafted up a resignation message, telling the manager I was not coming in for more than the two hours mentioned in the contract, and even that was a courtesy because he had failed to communicate the work roster to me at least a week in advance, which the contract dictates he must do. He texted me back telling me I was dead wrong, that I was misinterpreting the contract, and to show up for all scheduled shifts or else there would be legal consequences. He even had the gall to tell me I should really get some sound legal advice before making this decision. I told him I already had, and that he could not legally require me to work all the ~45 hours (!!) he had decided to put me on the roster for, because that would be an unlawful availability provision (loved learning the legal jargon for this, thanks wclc ❤️). He told me to write an official e-mail with my "complete concerns" and my decision not to work the required shifts. Luck would have it that I had already been typing away for three days at about a kilometre of text detailing all the broken promises and everything that he had done wrong, including but definitely not limited to some non-consensual touches during work. I ended the e-mail reiterating my (courteous) offer to still work the two hours, and, as advised in a second session with wclc, gave him a deadline before which he was to tell me which hours he wanted me to come in. Suddenly he was very quiet, until I got a text message the next day stating very shortly that I was not required to come into work anymore that week, and all outstanding payments for previous worked shifts would be made within a week 😤

Mind you, my stress levels were through the roof throughout this entire process. I was shaking, I was waking up early, scared to look at my phone, worried about the consequences I had been threatened with. In my most fearful thoughts I saw him coming to my house and trying to harass me. I'd never done anything like this before, and his manipulative words unfortunately had their intended effect on me. I was scared I was actually wrong, that he would sue me, and I would be deported. But wclc assured me I did everything right, and I was happy to be able to believe them over him. The waiting for replies was scary but I'm very lucky to be surrounded by some truly wonderful people here who supported me, kept me from buckling and helped distract me from the stress. "This is not Europe," they told me. "You can just block his number and never go back." It turns out employees are legally in a much better position to start with over here, which is very refreshing.

And let me tell you, I feel like I've grown a couple of centimetres through the whole ordeal. It feels amazing to stand up against somebody like him, somebody who made conversations way more personal than they needed to be, told lies about me to the rest of the staff, and basically told me to let him exploit me, and WIN. The act itself is invigorating already but the moment he texted me saying I wouldn't have to come in anymore, I jumped with joy. I was so scared but I WON. He's never going to apologise to me, nor is he going to like me ever again (which is something I've been taught to feel bad about), but I'll sleep soundly just imagining what his face must have been like when he realised he was wrong. I know I'm not the first person he exploited, but it seems I was the first to walk out like this. I do hope he learns a lesson, or that I might set an example for the rest of the staff.

So if you ever need some courage to stand up for yourself, I've found that listening to these songs helps:

Doja Cat - Boss Bitch

Todrick Hall - Wrong Bitch

Blackpink - Pretty Savage

It really sounds so much easier than it is, but as Rascal Flatts put it so beautifully, you can do what you think is impossible 🤩

[teableeds]

I am in my first serious relationship with my girlfriend. We have been together just under a year. She moved into my place three months ago.

Everything was fine in the beginning but once we started seeing each other more frequently I noticed her bad habit. Every time we went out and food was involved she would sample my food before I got to it. We are not just talking of a chip here and there from my chipbutt sandwich. In actual classy places she would take the first chunk of my steak/salmon/cake. You name it she would take the first bite. I had several talks with her about this, but she said it was cute and not sinister.

Four months ago she got a job with training opportunity. After completion when she returns to her normal place the salary will be higher. My place is forty minutes closer than were she used to live and I offered her to live with me rent free if she stopped this behaviour.

The first month she stuck to our agreement. The second month she slipped up a few times. This last month she has gone back to her old ways. Last weekend a turning point.

I bake it's hobby. I made cake. After dividing it into eight I left it in the fridge while I went out with a friend. Usually when I bake and friends drop me off I will fetch a few slices and thank them for the lift home with the cake. Imagine my surprise when I saw that each piece had a bite taken. I phoned my friend that I owed him cake and he needn't wait for me to come back down.

I was angry. I told her that she embarrassed me and we needed to figure out a solution. She went defensive and said she ate it due to loving me so much. That all women do this and guys love it. I made it very clear that she needed to stop now or there would be consequences. Next day I bought a lockbox for the fridge. She was livid, but couldn't do much. Last night she broke the lock and had taken a bite out of all my snacks and two slices of baguettes in there.

I told her to pack her stuff and leave while I stay with my mother for a few hours. She called me an asshole for making her homeless and possibly ruining her employment opportunities.

Am I the ass?

I think you need to put that girl in another room while you eat dinner, like what I do with Chicken Wing when he's being naughty and jumping on the dining room table.