#yeah it sucks if i can't afford it myself

[the-badger-mole]

Profiles In Style

This is Ann Lowe, "Society's Best Kept Secret".

Ann (b. 1898) was the daughter and granddaughter of seamstresses who worked for the first families of Montgomery. When she was 16, Lowe's mother died, leaving a collection of four ball gowns for the First Lady of Alabama. Lowe took up the project and, using the skills she learned from her mother and grandmother, finished the dresses.

In 1917, Lowe was divorced, and a mother when she moved to NYC to attend S.T.Taylor Design School. The school was segregated at the time,and she had to take classes in a room alone, because stupid has always been able to cross state lines.

When she graduated in 1919, Lowe moved to Tampa where she opened her first dress salon, Annie Cohen, catering to members of high society. It was a success, and eventually Lowe used her earnings to move back to NYC where she designed on commission for Henri Bendel, Chez Sonia, Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue. She even designed the dress that actress wore to accept an Academy Award in 1946, although the name on the dress was Sonia Rosenberg (shady).

Lowe got sick of not getting credit for her work, so in 1950, she opened a new salon in NYC with her son; Ann Lowe's Gowns on Lexington Ave. Her one-of-a-kind dresses were made of the finest fabrics, and graced the forms of the world's most famous socialites. She designed for the Rockefellers, the Lodges, the Du Ponts and the Auchinclosses.

Janet Auchincloss was such a fan of Ms. Lowe's that in 1953, she hired Lowe to design a dress for her daughter, Jacqueline Bouvier for her wedding to Senator John F. Kennedy.

Despite being a massive success, and a favorite of NYC's society ladies, Ann Lowe rarely made any real profit on her designs after paying her staff. Still, she continued to do her thing. After a particularly rough time in the 60s, during which she lost her store, her right eye, and developed cataract in her left eye, she opened another store, Ann Lowe Originals, on Madison Ave. She retired in 1972. She died in 1981 while in the care of her daughter, Ruth.

The moral of the story is it's okay to be expensive, especially if you're good at what you do.

[cozylittleartblog]

small PSA: if you shop at craft shows or artist alleys, please bring more than apple pay or a virtual card - especially if you're not comfortable entering your card number manually. not all of us have fancy card readers, so please also bring your physical card or cash, even if it's only as backup 👍

[theflyingfeeling]

djdfjfjkdlfk

[hiodoshi-ao]

.

[senseless-blabbering]

kind of very personal reflection in the tags about health and fear of death i guess

[absinthemindedly]

//

[aeliuss]

Featuring: pussydrunk!chan x afab reader

Genre: smut with the tinniest of plots lol

Warnings: chris is reader's fiance, cunnilingus, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) and over all smut smutty smut.....yeah. minors do NOT interact

Notes: what i do for you guys (and myself). feedback is always appreciated! or you can hit me up and we can squeal together lol

chan is horny. like, unbelievably so.

which, in itself is incredibly inappropriate since he's currently at the work function you invited him to, in trousers that he cannot afford to have a hard-on in, but it's not his fault. how could he not be, when you're walking around the ballroom in your pretty little slip dress, hair brushed to the side, as you interacted with your coworkers. you're so graceful, so professional, so put together, so--

delectable.

he clears his throat, adjusting his pants and sitting up, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back on one of your coworkers, who has been speaking to him for the past five minutes about the company's goals. he could not give less of a shit to be honest, but he's here for you, so he makes the effort, smiling and nodding when appropriate, the picture of a loving, supportive fiance.

that is, until he has your dress bunched up to your hips as gets to his knees in front of you.

he doesn't know how you two got here, just that he met your eyes over the shoulder of you blabbering coworker and suddenly, he was excusing himself, and through a flurry of movement, and mumbled apologies, you two were suddenly in the only place you could get a sliver of privacy--a bathroom stall.

"chris, my dress--" you whine when he shoves it upwards unceremoniously, forcing you to curl your fingers around the hem. "it's gonna get wrinkled and I have to give a speech later."

his deft fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you. "sweetheart....you know I love you, but I don't give a shit about your dress."

"we can't do this here," you protest, trying to regain some sense of composure, but your words come out in breathy whispers as his fingers trail teasingly along the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your protests.

he chuckles, keeping his eyes on yours as he litters kisses on your inner thighs. "can't we?"

your scent enveloped him, intoxicating and sweet, as his fingers deftly peeled away your panties, his gaze never leaving yours. your already wet, and normally, any other time, chan would comment on how needy you were for him, how you were already sopping and he hasn't even touched you--but today? today he was the needy one, practically drooling at the sight of you.

"so pretty, baby," it comes out in a desperate sigh. "so so pretty."

before you can respond, he is flattening his tongue across your entire vulva, dragging it up slowly. his fingers tighten around your thighs when you jump, steadying you, but also keeping you in place for him.

he can't help the groan he makes at the taste of you as he sucks on your labia, lapping up at the juices you're already releasing. "fucking made for me," his words send vibrations into your pussy in a way that makes your knees weak.

your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds. the last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but the way chan is devouring you makes it nearly impossible. his tongue works with an expertise that drives you wild, alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick flicks that have you teetering on the edge.

"chris," you whisper, your voice trembling. "we really... we shouldn't—"

in answer, he maneuvers one of your legs so that it's resting on his shoulder so that he can press his face further against your pussy, inhaling deeply. the world outside the stall fades away, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses becoming a distant hum as his tongue delves deeper. his fervor is almost worshipful, the way he licks and sucks at your clit with a fervent devotion, the tip of his nose brushing teasingly against your clit with every movement.

"please," you moan, your voice breaking. it's not clear what you're pleading for—more, less, for him to stop before someone finds you, or for him to never stop.

he responds with a growl, the sound vibrating through you as he doubles his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and intense suction, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling. he knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of release.

he's there when the coil in your lower belly finally snaps, tongue eagerly waiting to lap up everything you give him--and lap up he does. he is so lost in your taste, that you have to physically push him away, thighs already shaking because of the way he is overstimulating you.

he lets you push his head back by his hair, leaning his neck back to give you a perfect view of the glistening of your juices on his lips and the tip of his nose.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, a mix of nerves and disbelief at the situation you've found yourselves in. " we really need to get back to the party," you whisper, trying to regain some sense of rationality, even as your body still hums with the aftermath of his expert ministrations.

"right." he stands, helping you smooth down your dress and you up at him nervously.

"does it look okay?"

he gives you a once over, lips trembling in his effort to stop them from curling. your cheeks are flushed, dress wrinkled and he could see the fabric quiver slightly.

you groan.

"it looks awful doesn't it?"

"nah," he plants a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. "looks amazing. now how 'bout that speech, yeah?"

[tastefulstars]

And I fell, I fell

Throw together a last minute cancellation, a helpful Robin and list of questions, and you've got yourself the romance of the century.

eddie munson x f!reader

c/w: 18+ only. MDNI. smut and fluff. so much fluff. mutual pining. eddie being a cutie. no y/n. protected sex. piv. oral (f receiving). not proof read.

a/n: eddie is a hopeless, gross romantic and u cant convince me otherwise and this is 7.6k of me proving myself correct.

masterlist

Your phone ringing startles you out of your daze, making you jump slightly in your chair. Reaching for it, you don't bother to look at the caller id.

"Oh you're alive, that's nice" Robin's voice cheerfully says, you blink rapidly at your computer screen.

"Why wouldn't I be alive, Robs?"

"I dunno! Maybe because you've been MIA for the past five days!"

You can hear the frustration and concern in her voice and you immediately feel guilty. You sigh softly and rub at your eyes.

"I'm sorry, Robbie" You murmur, "Work's been a lot."

"I worry about you" She confesses, "Like, have you even been eating? Sleeping? What's so important you've got to check out for nearly a week?"

You scrunch your face up because, she's right - you've been doing the bare minimum but you weren't going to admit that.

"I'm fine, really. Just been editing a few of the interviews I did last week and then this morning I had someone bail out at the last minute so I'm trying to find a replacement to do the interview at the end of the week."

Robin hums.

"I'm coming over"

She hangs up before you have a chance to respond and you shake your head. Standing, you groan as you stretch your arms over your head before you decide to just call it a day and have a shower.

The warm water feels heavenly on your stiff body, and you let yourself relax under the spray. You're just stepping out of the shower, steam filling the room and wrapping a towel around you, when there's persistent knocking at the door.

You debate for all of three seconds on whether to answer or get dressed, ultimately deciding to let Robin in first, knowing that she'd just knock harder and louder until you did.

She pushes her way in as soon as the doors cracked open an inch, she closes the door behind her and starts pushing at your shoulders.

"Get dressed, Jesus"

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, muttering about bossy, annoying friends. You shuffle to your room though, pulling on soft jeans and a shirt and make your way back to Robin who's curled up on the couch and cradling a can of soda in her hands.

"Alright, sit" Robin says, patting the space beside her and you throw yourself heavily down next to her, resting your cheek against her shoulder.

"You okay?" She asks, pressing her cheek against the top of your head and you nod softly because yeah, you were fine, just busy and tired and overworked. She holds the can to you and you take it, sipping at the bubbly drink. An arm wraps around your shoulder and you feel yourself go boneless against her, relaxing for the first time in days.

"Work sucks at the moment" You admit, leaning on your friend, "I've got so much to do and now I'm gonna loose the venue for Friday because the person I was interviewing cancelled on me and like, I can't afford that you know? It's expensive and I just, I don't know what I'm gonna do Robbie"

"Anything I can help with?" She asks softly, "I can't really do much for editing videos and whatever but, yeah."

You feel a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"You don't happen to want to be interviewed?" You tease, "Could start a new series where I interview my friends instead of like, famous people"

You're joking, knowing that Robin would kinda hate being in front of a camera while you ask her questions about herself but you could see it working - making it a silly little thing where you just have fun with it, rather than the serious interviews you've been stuck doing.

"God no" She laughs for a moment before pausing, "But, I could ask Eddie?"

"Hmm? What's Eddie got to do with this?"

"Eddie Munson, y'know Corroded Coffin?"

You scrunch your nose slightly, pulling back to look at her.

"You mean to tell me that your high school band friend Eddie is the same Eddie from that massively popular metal band? And don't they refuse to do interviews, like, all the time?"

"Yes and yes, it's something about wanting to focus on the music rather than them but he'd do it if I ask nicely."

You chew on your lip, considering it. It would be a massive help, having someone to actually interview and that someone being notorious for refusing to actually participate in interviews but at the same time, you don't want to put Robin out or Eddie.

"Look, I'll ask, the worst thing is he'll say no and if that's the case, I'll do the interview." She says and you feel a weight lifting off your chest, you lean back in to wrap yourself around her.

"Thanks, Robin" Your voice is muffled by her shoulder but she squeezes you back.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon watching shitty videos and snacking, and you feel more relaxed than you have in weeks. You murmur your thanks as you hug Robin goodbye and laugh softly at her stern warning of no more work today, her finger pointing at your face. You agree, considering ordering take out and having an early night.

You're wrapped up in a soft blanket on the couch, lights low and a movie you're not really watching when your phone buzzes.

Robin: Eddie's agreed to do the interview. send deets.

to Robin: You're an angel amongst men, Robin and I love you.

Robin: ur right, I am. love u 2.

You send her the address and times and thank her about five more times before you put your phone back down, and focus back on the movie and you're not too sure when your eyes slip closed and you're asleep.

The next couple of days fly by in a daze of editing and deciding the direction of the upcoming interview. You didn't want it to be stuffy, overly serious and god forbid, boring, so you pester Robin for little tidbits of information about Eddie and you find yourself racing around your apartment the morning of to get ready.

You've never really seen photos of Eddie from Band but you have seen photos and videos of Eddie from Corroded Coffin and you knew he's hot and while you didn't want to come across as unprofessional, you wanted to look good so you spend extra time styling your hair and making sure your outfit fit just right.

Loading your car up with your equipment and set-up took longer than you'd like and by the time you're pulling up to the building, you've only got thirty minutes before Eddie was due to arrive. You rush through set up and you wish you had an assistant for days like today.

A soft knock against the wall and your name being called startles you. You let out a quiet noise of surprise and whip around to see Eddie, smiling wide at your reaction, and your heart stutters. You knew he was handsome, you knew that, but the photos and videos didn't do him justice.

Tall and wrapped in black denim, cotton, silver chains and rings. His hair was curled to perfection, soft and silky, wide brown eyes and plump limps and you realize you're staring and not saying anything.

"Eddie, right?" You gesture to one of the chairs you'd set up, "Thank you so much for doing this, you and Robin have saved me a lot of grief"

He saunters over to you, smiling warmly before sitting in the chair. You almost get lost in watching him again but you force your eyes away, not wanting to be a creep.

"Ah, it's alright. Had nothing better to do today, to be honest."

And god his voice, you wanted to hear it all day. Wanted him to whisper nothings into your ear and you feel yourself flushing at the desire running through your veins.

You turn, scolding yourself for your reaction and get to work turning on the lights, camera and audio recorders.

"Still, I appreciate it. Will you be okay putting your mic on or would you like help?" You ask as you open the case, pulling out both sets of microphones.

"Hmm, might need some help"

You look over your shoulder and he's watching you intently, and you're really not sure how you're going to do this interview without coming across as desperate.

"Sure, here-" You step closer to him, holding out the microphone and wire, "This bit goes up under your shirt and clips onto your collar"

His fingers brush yours as he gently takes it from you, lifting his shirt slightly to feed the wire under it. You hold your breath and avert your eyes when you see a flash of pale skin before you do something stupid like telling him you'd like to lick him all over.

"Like this?" He asks, and you force yourself to bring your eyes down, nodding as he clips the little microphone to his shirt and smooths his hands down his chest.

"Yeah, um- I'll just clip this to your belt, if that's okay?"

He looks up at you from under his lashes and nods, smiling like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. You turn it on and see his jaw clenching in the corner of your eye as your fingers brush at his skin as you work.

"Alright. All set, I'll just finish getting ready - I'll just be a minute" You say in a rush, turning back to the table and putting your own mic on.

"No rush, honey"

And oh god, the pet name has your blood singing. Your hands shake slightly as you take a couple of deep breaths and scold yourself with a stern behave yourself, you're here for work not to hook up, he's doing you a favor so cut it out.

You shake your head slightly and move to turn on the camera. It's almost easier, looking at Eddie through the camera screen as you focus it and you suppress a shudder when you realize he's watching you closely.

You suck in a deep breath and pick up your notes, moving to sit beside him.

"Alright, you good to start?"

His smile returns and nods, shifting in his seat in order to face you. You do your intro, facing the camera and watching Eddie from your peripheral and then your turning, facing him and wanting to whine at how pretty he is. You let your work wash over you, focusing on the interview.

"Thanks for being here today, Mr. Munson. Tell me, how are you? What's been happening?"

"Eddie's fine" He says, laughing softly, "Mr. Munson is my uncle. I'm good, I'm good. Honestly? I should be working on some new songs but I'd rather not."

You nod, humming.

"Look that's fair - You used to play D&D, why?"

He looks a little surprised at your question, like he wasn't expecting anything else besides his music.

"Oh yeah I did. It was just fun, y'know? Like my friends and I got to go on epic adventures."

You try your hardest not to let the grin overtake your face but it's so, so hard.

"That's kinda nerdy but like what do I know? I make silly videos for a living. Do you still play or has that ship sailed?"

"Ah, I'd like to but I don't get as much free time these days and all my friends I play with are all over the place."

"Bummer. What's the best way to eat marshmallows?"

You keep the energy going, slinging more and more absurd questions at him without letting him gather his bearings but Eddie's grinning, enjoying the quick fire questions and your snide comments at his answers.

"Now. This is a serious question and I will judge you for your answer if it's incorrect."

He shifts, face serious and leans slightly towards you.

"Would you rather be eaten alive by a werewolf or have a vampire stick a straw in your neck and drain you like a capri-sun?"

Eddie breaks out into giggles and you feel your insides wobble and you school your features, biting your tongue and raise an eyebrow.

"Definitely being eaten alive" He wheezes between his laughter, "I might as well go all out if I'm gonna die."

You purse your slips, looking down at your notes primly.

"Correct."

Eddie laughs harder, eyes shining when you look back at him.

"Alright, last question - what's the plan for the rest of the day?"

He rubs the back of his neck, he looks at you and you think maybe there's something in his face, in his eyes as he glances at you.

"No real plans, might grab something to eat."

"Right on, free as a bird."

You close the video and slide out of your chair, turning off the camera and beginning the pack up. Your eyes flicker to Eddie and you smile softly, moving to him to help remove his mic.

"Thanks again for this, Eddie. I know you don't really do interviews much so I didn't want to make it awful for you"

His fingers find the soft skin of your wrist when he hands you the mic set, pressing against your skin.

"I had a lot of fun" His voice is low and rumbles and you feel your chest erupts with butterflies.

You shuffle back, throwing a smile over your shoulder and continue to pack away your equipment.

"Want a hand?" Eddie's says, right behind you and you can feel his warmth seeping into your back. You bite your lip.

"Nah, it's all good! It's not that much" You try to keep the tremble out of your voice, "I'll um, let you know when the video's up? It should be maybe a week or so."

You hear him inhale and then hum softly.

"Perfect."

You step around the table, putting a bit of distance between the two of you before you do something really really dumb and proposition him. Eddie shoots you a small smile, fiddling with his rings and you think he might be nervous.

"I'll, um, see you around then?" He asks, taking small steps backwards towards the door.

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you" You try to smile warmly as you say your goodbyes while all you'd like is to beg him to stay longer.

"You too, honey. I've heard a lot about you."

And then he's gone and you throw yourself down on one of the chairs, face in hands and you let out a whine.

"God damn it, Robin" You mutter before huffing and dragging yourself to load your car.

You're tired and sore when you finish unloading the car back at your apartment and you grunt as you throw yourself onto the couch, propping your feet on your coffee table.

Your phone buzzes.

Unknown Number: Hey honey, it's Eddie. I hope it's okay but I got your number from Robin.

Unknown Number: I just. I really had a good time today. I usually hate doing interviews but you made it a lot of fun.

You save his number and quickly respond, heart in your throat and fluttering in your stomach, hating how much you wanted his attention.

to Eddie: Eddie, hey! Yeah that's fine. I'm glad you had a nice time :)

Eddie: Very much so. Did you get everything packed and get home alright?

You start chewing on your lower lip as he responds almost instantly, not wanting to seem overly eager, you send a text to Robin instead.

to Robin: ROBIN what the FUCK????

Robin: ur welcome :)) he thinks ur hot btw and like ur both my friends so dont fuck it up.

to Robin: thanks!!!!! no pressure at all with that!!!!!!!!

Robin: :)

You start chewing on your thumbnail and open Eddie's messages again, responding with an affirmative and asking how his afternoon went before tossing your phone to the other side of the couch, kicking your feet.

You feel like a teenager, heart pounding and cheeks hot and chest feeling three sizes too big. You wander around your living room, shaking your hands and deciding to just go about your evening routine - making dinner and showering and watching a movie.

Your eyes drift to your phone every few minutes and you groan, giving in and picking it up.

Eddie: I ended up going straight home, been watching some of your interviews ;)

Eddie: What are you up to? Busy night?

to Eddie: Oh god, don't do that. They're all very boring.

Eddie: Ah but I get to watch a pretty lady tearing apart a bunch of dummies who don't realize they're being insulted.

Your face heats again and you place your face in your hands and let out a very embarrassing noise. You lift you head, staring at your phone and take a rough, deep breath. Eddie was going to kill you, you were sure of it.

You feel like a silly teen with a crush as you text with Eddie for the rest of the evening, his flirting making you want to screech out loud or melt or something.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.

You're a little scared to check your phone the next morning, a whole bunch of what if's running through your mind, but a soft ding brings you out of your mind and you couldn't stop the lovesick smile if you tried.

Eddie: good morning, hope you have a good day

to Eddie: you too :)

You spend the rest of the day trying to focus on work, on finishing the editing of your previous interviews and starting on Eddies, but it's hard going when all you want to do is text the man. Taking a quick break, you lean over the bathroom sink and stare at yourself in the mirror. You frown at your reflection.

"Get your shit together" You snap at yourself, "You're not a teenager with a crush, you are a grown woman so act like it."

You sigh and pull yourself away, sitting back down at your desk.

"Alright. We've just got to finish these two interviews, we can totally do this. Totally, they're like ninety percent done already."

You nod at your pep talk and get back to work, newly found focus coasting you through the last few hours of editing for the day.

It's starting to grow dark by the time you save your work and shut down for the day. You feel lazily satisfied from finishing the task you set for yourself for the afternoon and more than ready to publish the videos and transcripts onto your social media sites. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a soft groan as your back pops.

Picking up your phone, you bite your lip at the messages Eddie had sent you throughout the day.

Eddie: dont work too hard today but kick ass at work today

Eddie: im attempting to write new songs but i dont wanna y'know?

Eddie: i went to get groceries instead. saw a cat :)

Eddie: dont forget to eat lunch

Eddie: ok ok im gonna try to work wish me luck lol

Your stomach growls at you and you realize you did forget to eat lunch again, you groan and start dinner. Sitting on the couch with your plate, you send a message to Eddie.

to Eddie: Sorry, been pretty busy today but i managed to finish up a couple projects and im ready to start working on your interview tomorrow. Did you end up getting any writing done?

to Eddie: And what type of cat was it?

It doesn't take long before your phone is buzzing beside you.

Eddie: she lives! im glad you had a productive day, one of us needs 2 lol and u dont need to edit our interview its already perfect. I wrote like 4 lines of a song.

Eddie: i took a photo of the cat, i'll send it 2 u.

You laugh softly at his messages, his writing getting lazier the more you two talk, not that you mind. The photo comes through and you coo, the cat was incredibly fluffy and stretched out over a brick fence, fast asleep.

Your eyes burn as you look at your phone, a result from staring at a computer screen all day, so you take a deep breath and press call.

"Hey honey!" Eddie's voice filters softly through your phone, "Didn't expect a call to be honest, it was the cat right?"

You laugh and let your eyes slip closed, laying down on the couch and placing the call on speaker phone.

"Absolutely," You hum, "It has nothing to do with my eyes hurting-"

"Aw, you okay? Need anything?"

You can hear the concern in his voice and something inside you swells.

"Nah, I'm good. It's just from being on the computer all day, y'know?" You rub your eyes, "Anyway, what are you up to?"

There's a slight pause before he answers but then he's telling you that he's trying to decide on dinner, weighing up pros and cons of cooking verses ordering in and then he's launching into a tangent on life skills and capitalism.

You let his voice wash over you and you find yourself relaxing until you're almost asleep, drifting in the in-between.

"Still with me baby?" Eddie asks softly, his words not really registering but you hum at the sound of his voice, making him chuckle quietly.

"Go to bed, honey." He croons at you, "We'll talk tomorrow, alright? Dream sweet."

You sleep on the couch that night, dreaming of soft curls and warm brown eyes.

The next week passes in a blur of work, texts, calls and longing. You want to see him again, want to have his deep honey eyes on you, want to hear his voice without the filter of a phone.

You whine about it to Robin a lot, much to her amusement and annoyance.

"Just tell him you like him" She says one night as you recount the latest texting session you and Eddie had the previous day.

"Dude! No! I can't just tell him that" You feel your heart starting to race at the idea, Robin snorts.

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer" She fires back and you groan.

"Because, what if he only wants to be my friend? What if he's like this with everyone? I don't want to make a fool of myself and just because he talks to me doesn't mean he likes me, and there's also the fact that he's like, famous!"

Your words come out in a panicked rush and you breathe heavily while Robin contemplates.

"Y'know, I've been his friend for a while. I don't think I've ever seen him like this about someone, he really does like you. A lot. It's kinda gross."

Her voice is soft and kind and you feel your cheeks heat at her words.

"I don't know what you did to him at the interview but he's like, super gone for you. Pretty sure he's panicking about the same things you are, hun. Trust me when I say that Eddie's not the type of person who'd string you around like that."

"Alright, okay" You sigh, feeling better with her reassurance.

You sit on her advice for a few days, weighing up your decision, when ultimately, Eddie makes it for you.

to Eddie: Eds, I'm posting the interview video and transcripts today. Want me to tag the band's @?

Eddie: Yes, please! You're incredible.

Eddie: Would you like to go out with me? Dinner tonight?

Your heart leaps into your throat and you can't stop the childish giggles as you respond with an enthusiastic yes, yes please I would like that very much.

You don't remember doing much work, too excited about that night to focus properly but you do manage to get the video and transcript online, making sure to tag the band's socials as well as Eddies.

to Eddie: Alright, it's up. What's the dress code for tonight?

Eddie: I just saw and casual, whatever you're comfy in :)

Eddie: What's your address? I'll pick you up at 6?

You give him your address and start getting ready, wanting to look good but not wanting to look like you're trying. A very hard line to walk but you were determined to do so.

A few minutes before six, the doorbell rings and your stomach fills with butterflies. Opening the door for Eddie, your heart stops inside your chest.

He's got his hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head, a few loose curls framing his face. Black jeans and combat boots with chains hanging from the belt, and a faded, well-worn Dio shirt.

His entire face lights up when he sees you, a beaming smile gracing his lips and you're almost ready to fall to your knees and begin proclaiming your everlasting love and devotion to him.

"You look beautiful" He says in lieu of a greeting, eyes roaming your body. You bite your lip softly and his eyes darken, tracing your movement.

"Thanks" You feel almost shy, "Should we go?"

He holds his arm out for you to take and you laugh softly, pulling your door shut behind you and slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow.

He leads you to his car, opening the door for you and closing it after you. Sliding into the drivers seat, his fingers drum against the wheel as he starts the car.

"Where are you takin' me tonight?" You ask softly, turning to look at him as he drives.

"We, my dear, are going to the park"

He glances at you as he says it, the tips of his ears going pink when he realizes you're already watching him.

"The park?" You ask, surprise colouring your voice, "Thought you were taking me out to dinner."

He laughs softy and you feel like you've just won a competition, a prize.

"We're havin' dinner at the park" He beams, "I was going to take you to a restaurant but Steve said not to do that and Robin said you'd like something more personal anyway."

You honestly feel as if you could float, you scrunch your nose at the feeling.

"You talk about me to your friends, huh?" You settle for teasing, enjoying the way Eddie's ears and cheeks bloom with a blush.

"Of course I do" He admits, "I really like you"

You feel your own face heat at his admission and you inhale sharply.

“I- um. I like you, too” You stumble over your words, face flaming and chest tight.

You steadfastly look out the windscreen and miss the look Eddie throws you, like you just handed him the moon. You bite your lip when you feel fingers brush against the side of your hand and shudder when you shift, letting your fingers spread and tangle with his, your palms pressed together.

“I’m glad” He murmurs, giving your hand a soft squeeze before he huffs a laugh, “Would’a made all this kinda awkward if you didn’t.”

You glance over at him and he’s already looking at you, warm smile on his face. He winks, focuses back on the road and lets go of your hand to turn. It doesn’t take much longer for the car to slow to a stop, a comfortable silence settling over you both.

Eddie’s a whirlwind as he rushes out of the car, tripping over his feet as he races to your door before you’ve even finished undoing your seat belt. Laughter bubbles up your throat and you’re chuckling by the time he’s pulling open the door, his cheeks blushing sweetly and eyes warm.

“You’re a dork” You laugh, taking his hand as he holds it out for you, he just smiles wider.

“Y’know, I have been told that” He murmurs as he pulls you closer to him, your breath hitches, “Now. Stand there and look pretty for me while I get our picnic ready.”

You bite your lip and lean against the hood of the car, watching him as he takes out a cooler, basket, blankets and pillows out of the car and rushing back and forth to a nearby tree. It’s tall and old and he sets up the picnic between gnarled roots. Once it’s laid out to his satisfaction he moves to stand in front of you, his fingers reach out and brush against your forearm.

“Good to go?” You ask, voice barely a whisper. He nods, eyes flicking over your face and he gently takes your hand in his, leading you to the blanket.

It’s kind of perfect, honestly. Too many pillows and blankets and Eddie’s brought so much food and there’s soft drinks (I didn’t know what kind you like and I didn’t want to bring booze because I’m driving and like I didn’t want you to think - Eddie breathe).

It’s a lot perfect.

You ask each other questions, you learn anything you can (his favourite colour is, surprisingly, lavender - “it was my mom’s, she used to have this knitted cardigan with little lavender flowers all over it.”)

You talk and talk and talk and the sun slips past the horizon and washes you both in soft golden oranges and reds. You shift closer to Eddie as the night air begins to cool your skin, Eddie notices your shiver because of course he does - he wraps one of the many blankets around your shoulders, presses his body against your side.

"Eddie?" You murmur, resting your cheek onto his shoulder, the soft fabric of his shirt rubs against your cheek.

"Yeah, honey?" He's just as quiet as you, nose brushing along your hairline. Something inside you shudders and trembles before settling into a soft glowing warmth.

"Thank you" Your face turns, forehead pressing against his cheek, "This has been easily the best date I've been on."

He cups your cheek and raises your face to his, your noses brush and he holds you against him.

"Baby, I'm the one who should be thanking you," His voice is rough and sincere, his eyes boring into yours, "For even giving me a chance. For letting me text you all day, every day. For making our interview so fun."

Baby, baby, baby, the word rattles around in your brain and you think you could cry. You're not sure how you've ended up here but you are and you are so, so grateful.

"Remind me to thank Robin for suggesting I interview you." Your words brush against his lips and you're leaning in, pressing your lips against his.

Eddie doesn't hesitate, kissing you back softly, sweetly. It's perfect. The date, the kiss, him. You kiss and kiss and kiss. He keeps it soft and sweet, innocent almost, and you want and want.

You sit together, wrapped up in each other and blankets, trading little kisses until your eyes begin to droop and you're yawning more than you are kissing Eddie. He rubs his palms up and down your arms.

"C'mon, I'll take you home, sweetheart."

You let him help you up, let him guide you to the car, let him assist you into your seat. You watch as he quickly packs up the picnic and loads the car.

You watch, head turned to rest against the seat as he starts the car. You watch as his gaze drifts from the road to you every few minutes and watch his hands as they hold the wheel and you watch as he parks the car in front of your building.

He turns and watches you, watching him.

"You're really sweet, Eddie." You say softly, limbs tingling as his lips curl softly at your words, your smile turns into something more teasing, "Knew you were hot shit but sweet too? Talk about a whole package here."

Eddie's cheeks are bright red and he's pressing his lips together tightly, he shakes his head fondly.

"Bed time for you, I think," and then he's walking you to your door, warm hands holding your face and a kiss being pressed against your lips, "Goodnight baby, dream sweet."

You murmur a soft goodnight, get home safe, please let me know when you're home safe, and then you're in bed, clutching your phone and waiting for that I'm home text.

You fall asleep between one breath and the next.

You don't get to see Eddie for a while after that, but you speak everyday - all day if you can. Good morning texts and random anecdotes about your days, soft words and sweeter wishes, I miss yous and goodnights.

You're swamped with work, fielding emails because apparently you're super popular now - Eddie's video went viral and now everyone's trying to book you for interviews and the comments on every one of your social media's. It's exhausting, honestly.

You call Eddie to complain, and he coos at you, teasing you and taking your mind off the sudden explosion of work.

"That's not nice, you're mean," You pout, phone pressed against your cheek, heart fluttering at Eddie's smooth laughter.

"Thought I was sweet, baby" He teases, recalling your sleepy words on your date. You can picture his wide smile as he teases you, and you just want.

"Are you busy?" You ask on a sigh, expecting the answer to be yes - Eddie's been telling you that he's on a roll with new songs and music, said he's been inspired. "Wanna see you, like, a lot. I know it's only been a couple weeks but-"

"For you? I'm free as a bird" He sounds like an absolute angel, "Want me to come over?"

And, well. That sounds perfect.

"Please. I'll cook us dinner, if you like."

"Heaven sent, you." Eddie groans, softly. "I'll be there in like twenty minutes, baby."

It feels more like five before you're letting him into your apartment. You've barely got the door shut before his arms are wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest and holding you.

"Missed you too, baby." Eddie says into your hair, arms squeezing you softly.

You go boneless against him, stress melting away in the safe circle of Eddie's arms. Eddie presses quick kisses to your hair, forehead, temples, wherever he can reach without pulling away.

You lean back, press your lips against his and you loose yourself in the sensation of being held close and kissed by Eddie Munson.

It's nothing like the sweet kisses you shared during your date. It's a little more. More intense, more burning and has you feeling weak in the knees.

Eddie's tongue brushes against your lower lip, and your insides light up like fireworks. Your lips part on a sigh and Eddie dips his tongue inside your mouth teasingly before he pulls away. Pecking you softly and smiling at you.

"Hey"

"Hey, gorgeous girl." His eyes go soft, warm, "No stressin' about work, alright?"

You nod, step back, tug at his hand, lead him to your couch and pull him down with you. You curl into him and Eddie wraps his arms around you again.

A kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" You ask, cheek pressed firmly against his chest. Your stomach flutters at the feel of solid muscle beneath your skin, the warmth of him, the steady rise of his breathing, the beat of his heart.

His grip on you tightens and he's pulling you down as he lays, forcing you between him and the back of the couch. One of his hands grips your waist tight and the other is gently cradling your head to his chest.

"Anything. You could make me burnt toast and I'd be the happiest person alive," You snort and he tilts your face up slightly, "I'm serious. You're amazing, you really are. And I'm not just saying that because I like you so much, well, I mean, I guess I kinda am but you know what I mean. You're so, so smart, and funny and talented and passionate and caring, charming and so beautiful."

You're shifting so you're hovering over him slightly, face inches away from his as he talks. You've never been one to associate those things about yourself but as Eddie says it, you think you believe it. Your chest feels like it's going to burst and you slide your hand up from his side, resting against his own racing heart while he continues,

"Like, I was so gone for you even before we met. Is that weird? That's weird but I would see the photos Robin would take of you when the two of you hung out and like, sure I thought you were the prettiest person I've ever seen but then she would start telling us stories about you and oh man, you were my dream girl. Absolutely. And then Robin's calling me, asking me to do you a favor? I said yes so fast she laughed at me and hung up."

You're grinning now as he talks, it's a little embarrassing but you feel happy, adored.

"And then, then I was there with you and you were even prettier in person and so goddamn funny? My heart just about gave out and -"

You cut him off by kissing him.

You both melt into it. Eddie's fingers tangling into your hair, keeping you close. You press against his chest and slide your body over his, covering him completely as you slowly run out of air. You pull away, take a deep breath and press right back in. Eddie makes a small sound at the back of his throat and the hand that's not holding your head, slides down to the small of your back, pressing and keeping you firmly against him, like you'd want to be anywhere else.

The kiss quickly heats, gets messier, desire and fire and something a whole lot like love thrum through your veins and you want and need.

You shift slightly, rocking your hips gently down and oh, oh.

Eddie groans, his hand splayed over your lower back moves, grips your ass and pulls you down to him. He rocks against you and you feel him getting hard beneath you and you're moving. Slipping off him, getting to your feet as you fist at his shirt, tugging him up with you and then you're both stumbling to your room while trying to not break the kiss and feel as much of each other as you can.

Your arm slams into the door frame and your whine is lost in Eddie's lips, his hand gently rubs at your shoulder to soothe, and then you're on your bed, Eddie on top of you and pressing you into the mattress. His hair falls around your face, curtaining you both from the outside world and making you feel like there's no one else - time slows and stops and then its you and Eddie, the last two people on the planet.

His lips travel, moving from yours and down your jaw, your neck. He leans over and presses a few quick kisses to your shoulder where you banged it before he's at your throat again, doing his best to cover you in his marks, whether it's from his lips or teeth.

You hold him close and squirm, breathing heavy through parted, kiss swollen lips. His hand slips under your shirt, fingertips gently brushing along your side and coming to rest at your waist. You whine out his name and struggle to free your legs from under him, Eddie lifts slightly and you quickly wrap your legs around his hips, locking you together.

"Eds" You breathe out as he nips at your neck, he trembles and stops, lifting his head and looking at you like you were responsible for lighting the sun and hanging the stars in the sky.

"Eds," You sigh, fingers caressing his face, "Want you."

You see his expression shudder with desire and he surges up, kissing you.

"You've got me," He says, voice rough and deep, "You got me. Wanna make you feel good, baby, can I?"

You nod and press a soft yes Eddie, yes into his lips and then you're both pulling at clothes. Slowly revealing yourselves to each other, it's slow and lazy as you both touch and look your fill with each new bit of skin shown.

Desire is under your skin, but it's simmering, a slow burn that lets you focus on sharing yourself with Eddie rather than a desperate need to be filled.

He kisses and mouths at every inch of your skin, hands touching and caressing anywhere and everywhere. You've never felt so wanted as you do right now with Eddie pressing kisses along your chest and down your torso, with his hands gently keeping you from falling apart.

He kisses his way down until he's reached the waistband of your pants, eyes flicking up to yours. You hold his face, smile, give a small nod, watch as Eddie's eyes slip closed and he presses his lips to your fingertips, you burn.

Eddie slowly shimmies you out of your pants, then his own, and you're both naked together. He sighs quietly as he kneels in between your legs, fingers skating up your calf and thigh. His eyes are darting around like he's trying to drink you in and keep you, how you are right now, burned in his memory.

You do the same.

He's lean, pale skin stretched over wiry muscles. Years of lugging heavy equipment has toned his arms, shoulders, chest. You trace one of his tattoos on his thigh, the closest you can reach without moving - there's so many more than you thought and you want to catalogue every single one, with your fingers and lips and eyes.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers.

The moment feels delicate, gentle, and loud words don't feel right. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, gently pull.

"Eddie"

You're just as quiet, his name leaving your lips on a soft breath. He leans down and softly kisses you before he's moving again, settling down between your legs and your legs shake as you feel the first press of his lips against you.

He's slow about it, running his tongue along your folds like he's got nowhere else to be. It's gentle and soft and has you quaking. You bury your fingers in his hair and Eddie's gripping your thighs, bringing you impossibly closer. He moans so quietly you would have missed it if it weren't for the vibration shooting through you and stoking the fire building under your skin.

"Eddie," You moan, tugging on his hair, "Eddie"

You chance a look at him, and your eyes almost roll back at the sight. He looks blissed out, eyes almost closed and face slack as he eats you out like you're the best damn thing he's ever tasted.

It doesn't escape your notice that he's rocking his hips down, grinding onto the mattress, and that's oh, oh that's enough.

You yank hard enough on his hair that he pulls away, his lips swollen and red, his chin and jaw covered in your slick. You twist and reach for your bedside drawer, praying you didn't forget to replace your expired condoms. You almost cheer out loud when your fingers brush one.

You kiss him as you tear it open, fingers finding Eddie's cock and rolling it on, he whines as you touch him.

Eddie guides you into laying back on the bed, settling between your legs. He's covering you completely, arms and hair surrounding you and caging you in, and he looks at you, eyes finding yours.

"Eddie"

He brushes his nose along yours. His lips gently caress your skin. He hums, and soft words are breathed into your cheek - I've got you baby, you're perfect, so perfect.

Then he's pressing inside you.

He moves slowly as he fills you, trembling moans falling from both your lips. Your eyes burn, tears stinging and you struggle to breathe. You've never felt so full, so wanted, so complete.

"Shh, darling"

He rolls his hips against yours and you cling to him, fingers digging into his arms and back.

"Eddie"

He whispers your name and begins to gently thrust into you. It's heaven. It's rapture. You've never felt so connected to another and you're sure you're seeing your death, your life. Time slips away, it's just you and him, him and you, together.

Eddie keeps the pace slow, gentle, it makes you feel wanted and adored. Desired. You rock your hips up in time with him and he groans, presses his forehead against yours.

"Baby, baby. Look at me."

He's pleading, almost begging you. Your fingers grip him tightly and put your eyes open, find his. Something ignites and you feel yourself hurtling towards your climax.

"With me," Eddie moans, hips rolling faster, "Baby. Baby. With me."

"Yeah, yeah. Eddie."

Your fingers dig harder into his back and you tremble, keeping your eyes locked on his. Fireworks explode in your nerves and you're shaking apart, whining loudly as you drown in bliss.

Eddie's hips stutter and he groans until he's stilling, panting and boneless. He's still buried inside you and he settles his weight a little more firmly on you as you share oxygen, pressed so close that you can't be sure you haven't become one - melded together and fused.

You don't burn it, but you end up having toast for dinner.

[s1ut4evan]

new toy - stan bowes x fem reader

*smut*

*not proofread*

Stan comes home with a new toy! Though it's not one you expect...

wattpad: s1ut4evan

————————————————————————

•

•

•

The warmth of my tea fogged up my glasses as I took a sip. I sat my book face down on the couch to keep its place while I tried to de-fog my lenses. Just then, headlights from a car flashed across the wall, telling me that Stan was home. I placed my glasses down next to my book before I got up to go greet him.

•

I heard the garage door open while I walked down the hallway. But I was confused...the engine of our car seemed louder. Different. Without a second thought I entered the garage and was met with a cherry red Mustang.

•

My mouth gaped open. I couldn't believe my eyes. Stan exited the vehicle revealing a huge smile on his face. "I-I.. wait.. wha- the fuck?!" was all I managed to say. "How bout her baby? What you think of our new ride?" Stan held out his arms like he was begging for a hug.

•

I placed my hand over my mouth before walking towards him. His large arms wrapped tight around me as the warmth of his kissed tapped the top of my head. Still speechless, I looked up at Stan, unable to grasp what is going on. "Hey now don't worry, we're able to afford it after all with my new promotion." he shook his head to assure me.

•

"I just can't believe..my dream car! Holy shit!" I jumped up and down like a child on Christmas morning. "You're the best baby!" I lifted my arms and placed them around Stan's neck before kissing him. I felt his hands grip my waist, "Anything for you my love."

•

All this excitement caused me to quake at my core. Stan really would do anything for me. My hand began to trace his jaw line before leading down his torso. He bit his lip while his fingers took a firm grip around my neck. "Let's break our new toy in." I said before pulling on his waist band.

•

Stan didn't hesitate as he laid me across the hood of the car. His hands traveled up my gown to caress my breasts. I gasped as he sucked on my neck while his member grew hard in his pants, pressed against my heat. I flinched as his rough fingers teased my clit through my soaked panties.

•

"Fuck yeah." he said before standing up to unbuckle his belt. I quickly slid off my panties, eager for him to enter me. My nipples shown through my thin gown, making his mouth water. Stan's eyes sparkled as I opened my legs revealing myself to him. I began sliding my fingers between my folds with a smirk on my face as I watched him struggle to get his pants off.

•

He bit his tongue before anxiously dropping them to the floor. "I've got to have a taste." Stan said while lifting my legs. He leaned down to my heat, his breath caused me to shiver before he gently licked at my bud. I rested my legs on his shoulders as he held to my thighs. His lips suctioned around my clit while his tongue lightly tapped on my sweet spot.

•

I felt myself getting close just as he pulled away. He laughed as I groaned out in frustration. "No worries pumpkin, you're getting everything you want." My cheeks turned red at those words. Stan once again lifted my legs to push them apart, placing his tip at my entrance. I pulled him in close so we were face to face.

•

We kissed heavily while he slowly entered me, allowing my walls to adjust. I gasped as his pace sped up. His pumps caused the whole car to move with each thrust. "Wait, this won't hurt the car will it?" I whispered in his ear. Stan shook his head, "No baby."

•

And with that I was all for him pounding me on top of our new "toy". I wrapped my legs around his waist for support as his pace quickened. The sweat dripped from his forehead onto mine. I started into his eyes as I felt the familiar pressure build. He held onto my waist with one hand and leaned against the car with the other.

•

"I love you baby." I whimpered before releasing on his length. "Fuck.." Stan said before pulling out and painting my stomach. He smirked, "Oh I love you too babe. Damn." he tried to catch his breath. "Now," he said, "how about we take this baby for a ride?" while lightly smacking the top of the car.

•

•

•

Allllrighty. So it's been like 2 months since I last posted. 😭 I've been in such a writing rut so I'm so so sorry if this is complete trash but I'm trying ugh. I promise I will have bigger and better things coming! Thank you all for love and support of my smut journey. 🩷

[ii-evil-confessions]

jobs near me

jobs near me NOT "personal assistaint"

jobs near me NOT "personal assistant"

jobs near me NOT "personal assistant" "proton associate"

jobs NOT "personal assistant" "proton associate"

jobs near me music

jobs near me music NOT "personal musician"

jobs NOT "personal musician"

jobs rave

actually decent job

electronhub.com

electronhub.com/search/?q=job/

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

forkntoaster : 7 yrs ago

All electron jobs suck? Help!

Why do all the job options on atomjobs suck? Everyone wants a "personal assistant" and when I say everyone it really feels like everyone. Do other jobs just not exist for us?

-

bitz0blast : 7 yrs ago : was bro just rebirthed[1]??? do you just not know how protons work??? its been this way forever buddy you're gonna have to camp out 24/7 online all the time if you want even a chance of some other job before someone else takes it

forkntoaster : 7 yrs ago : Is it really that bad?

bitz0blast : 7 yrs ago : this has to be ragebait or something. no way youre actually this clueless. either this is bait or you were literally just rebirthed

forkntoaster : 7 yrs ago : No! I'm genuinely confused. I'm not trying to bait anyone, I just want a straight answer.

[deleted] : 7 yrs ago : [Content has been deleted by the moderators.]

spark_fucker : 7 yrs ago : WHAT THE FUCK???????????

NotMyProblem_ : 7 yrs ago : Okay. That is disgusting. Which plusky[2]'s bot was that?

20000-voltz : 7 yrs ago : oh my god. is that what theyre doing to their "personal assistants" now

nmbr1protonhatr : 7 yrs ago : [Content has been deleted by the moderators.]

20000-voltz : 7 yrs ago : THE FUCKING PROTON'S ADDRESS???

WIREEATER : 7 yrs ago : protonhatr you are my hero. Who wanna storm they house

Load more replies...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

tzrbro11 : 3 yrs ago

How to leave job without upsetting employer?

Quick story time: So! A few years ago my financial situation wasn't the best, and I had been recently traded away to a different atom, so I was really in need of a job! I would have taken practically anything if it paid decently. One very dodgy interview later, and I had landed myself a job- unfortunately, as I should have gathered from the interview, my employer was full of absolute shit.

Not going into any details as to how full of shit they were, but it should be saying enough if I'm asking for advice on how to resign from my job without making my employer go ballistic. Working with my employer's taken a big toll on my mental state and I fear that if I stay a moment longer I'm going to be charged for murder.

Any help would be very much appreciated!

-

fate_my_ass : 3 yrs ago : Is your employer a proton? Because if so, you're better off just rebirthing yourself. No offense.

tzrbro11 : 3 yrs ago : None taken. Just wondering if there was another way I could leave without having to end up as a missing persons case with amnesia.

fate_my_ass : 3 yrs ago : Sorry. Unfortunately I don't know of any alternate ways to resign and end up in one piece - I would know. I've been legally "dead" (we technically can't die, but whatever) in my home area for a few years now. A friend of mine was sent to the hospital when his (proton) boss "found" him injured in a dumpster. Lawyers never helped - if we could even afford them.

tzrbro11 : 3 yrs ago : Could I just flee the area and become a squatter? That seems like a viable option.

fate_my_ass : 3 yrs ago : Oh, yeah. But you'd better be good at hiding.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Valence_Shell_Official : 7 months ago

[CLOSED] Applications needed for the Valence Shell!

We've just had our grand opening of the Valence Shell nightclub, and are looking for producers and artists for rave nights!...

Read more...

-

<- Back to main replies

least_favorite_electron : 7 months ago : I know that the applications just closed, but got any room for one more?

Valence_Shell_Official : 7 months ago : No, unfortunately.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

urfellowelecnewsreporter : 1 yr ago

CEO of Produce Plus discusses electrons

Excerpt from the interview you can watch here.

"...it honestly upsets me to see how violent these people are - I mean, they're more animals than people at this point. They- committing crimes in abandoned houses, assaulting their atommates[3], forced rebirth? They're all... they're all crazy. I don't want them near any of my employees, I don't want them near any of my friends, I don't even want them working in any jobs under me - surely they've got a disease that's making them act this way, right? No normal person would ever act the way they do."

-

ponabuz ⭐ : 1 yr ago : oh my god

WIREEATER : 1 yr ago : its like they forgot we had a fucking civil war not even 50 years ago bruh. do we seriously have to do this again

least_favorite_electron : 1 yr ago : CAN WE ACTUALLY CATCH A FUCKING BREAK?? HOLY SHIT???

ywuzthisusertakennn : 1 yr ago : Why is this bitch saying this to us we are literally half your profit every year

Stormyy_ : 1 yr ago : We can't even boycott this goddamn plusky because all the food we get comes from him. Either we get oppressed or we become the first fundamental particles to actually die

nmbr1protonhatr : 1 yr ago : not if the plusky dies first :)

bitz0blast : 1 yr ago : protonhatr i could actually kiss you

Load more replies...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[1]: rebirth: when a particle becomes unstable after multiple years (can be in the span of days to centuries) and implodes in on itself, eventually creating a new version of the former molecule but without or very few memories of its past self

[2]: plusky: a derogatory term targeted at protons.

[3]: atommates: members of an atom.

[dee-the-red-witch]

Okay, I need to be serious and put this somewhere for one because I need to let people know wtf is going on in full because it affects a lot of shit, because I need to talk about it, and because I need to figure out what I'm going to do.

The relationship with S, my now separated, still cohabitating and coparenting with former partner has been getting worse and worse. She has barely worked since January has made minimal efforts at best in helping with childcare, has borrowed over seven grand in total from myself and other sources that I know of to lose all of it in an online honeypot scheme, has as yet barely done anything to try and recover those funds and because of all of this, left me in the situation of having to drain everything from my transition gfm just to cover april's rent and some of the bills, and then left me still having to fundraise just this week to cover stuff.

On top of this she's still being inadvertently (I'm assuming) transmisogynistic on a regular basis. And refuses to learn or do any better, unless, you know, I'm actively calling her out in the middle of it, and even then it's a whole other fight, that often turns into other abuses lkke her threatening to just immediately abandon me with the kids.

I don't feel remotely safe here, i am in constant stress, I can't focus well enough to work even when I'm not being constantly interrupted for things, and financially there is no way I can keep doing all this. I'm also physically exhausted from all this plus the workout regime I'm having to pull to get down to surgery weight (though with my recovery fund getting constantly emptied, part of me is in Does It Even Matter mode, while the rest realizes that somehow a gym full of cishet people in lynnwood is somehow SAFER than here.)

I don't know what to do. I don't really have options, and i need out. Affording here on my own would be equally impossible, so forcing S out isn't really a great option. I'd need around 6k a month to cover EVERYTHING fully doing it as a business, and there just isn't enough coming in. I need help and I need options.

And I'm aware that yeah, just. A bigass rant with context missing in parts and no real call for action or anything. Mostly I want folks including customers to know what's going on. Please don't cancel existing orders, I'm still working to try and fill them. Please don't send me resource links for shelters and such. I'm not running yet. Ideally, I need an out, and a place on my own free and clear, but I don't know how to get there from here yet. And I'll update later eith specific asks for help if and when I figure out what those are. I just need folks to udnerstand that things are kinda sucking for me right now and it's going to be rather hard for a while.

[demilypyro]

I think the issue is that while I hate the centrist establishment with a fervor and in a perfect world I'd be more loud and proud about that, the reality is that especially as an autistic trans woman I often don't have the freedom to not perform conformity without my ability to self-determine being taken away. As much as this country supports the "good ones", the public will still turn on anyone who looks like a "bad one" without a second thought, so I can't afford to look like a bad one if I want to protect myself. And when I look in the mirror I know that's some coward bitch shit but I also know it's a battle I can't win alone, and losing it wouldn't help anyone. Shit sucks.

But yeah I could stand to be more punk.

[lonelyprincess666]

I know it's gonna sound terrible and kinda disgusting, but I can't help myself. I wish I had cuts on my arms and thighs so mommy/daddy can kiss them or suck on them while telling me how proud they r of me not cutt1bg myself anymore... Yeah i know... I can't afford therapy.

[olderthannetfic]

Since it was brought up. Why do so many people have this weird protective boner for rich people anyway? You can't call out rich people for being completely out of touch, without someone being like "Yeah but…" I don't fucking care about the "Yeah but…" Why the fuck should I care about the feelings of a rich bitch who can live in the lap of luxury while the asses of myself, friends and family can't afford to fucking live?

Do any people out there actually unironically believe that a queer millionaire has any-fucking-thing in common with poor queer people? POC rich people with poor POC people? Those rich people don't give a shit, they care about their own richness, and then the other rich people, before they even would look at you with their ass. "But they donate money." Yeah, I too would donate if I had the money, and I got that big delicious tax-write off for it. Alas, I don't got fucking money, thanks for asking.

Some dumb rich asshole living in a fucking insane asylum looking home tells us "Get off your ass and work." while she just had someone get off in her ass. "But that isn't whar happened." Don't care, fuck rich people who think that they get to tell poor people "You choose to be poor because you don't work." don't get more respect from me.

Oh wow some chick who was raised rich made her own company by getting some of her parents money and is now even richer. Let's all clap for the "self-made" millionaire. Bet she also got a smaaaaaall loan of a million dollars. I mean, if she failed fuck all would happen because she was rich before, but come on, she's rich and famous, so she's super special. Yeah... how does that work out for people who wanna start a business who DON'T have money laying around for a little ego project?

Some rich boys get to be the star in the show "Nepo baby, when getting popped out into a rich family opens all the doors." but because they're gay and POC, we don't wanna call them out because the poor rich people might feel oppressed for being called rich nepo baby fucks being called out on their privilege.

You remember Hawaii? Who went there and bought land while the natives were still grieving? Rich assholes. Who owns land and properties on Hawaii while not being native, but then also looked all puppy dog sad asking for donations? Oh Oprah? Wow, see how much she cares about the poor POC people in Hawaii. Give back those fucking properties to the Natives. "Oh but she helped by giving 5 millions, and water and blankets." You know what else she could give? The fucking land back to the natives who need it. She and all the other fucko rich people like Bezos, for whom Hawaii is just a little holiday island. 👏Rich👏fucks👏give👏back👏the👏land👏to👏the👏Natives👏and then never come back.

Rich people fucking suck. They don't care for you, they don't care if you're "one of them", if you're not rich, you're worthless. So why the fuck do people of the middle and lower class constantly get into actual fights to play saviour for some ugly ass rich bastard who doesn't give a shit about them? We don't fucking need people who can buy and take away the lands from Natives, and we don't need nepo babies who tell us we choose to be poor.

Fuck rich people.

--

[oh-a-very-toxic-octopus]

Stress is a fucking tyrant. Cold sweating all the time. Can't really make myself eat. Don't think I've slept more than three hours a night for the past almost two weeks. Every night is a fun sequence of dozing a bit -> waking up -> checking my phone clock -> half an hour has passed since I last checked.

It's just been a shitty month, I tell myself, but it's a long-term pattern too. And first world middle class problems. Come the fuck on, me.

I'm in the midst of pulling together the money to buy half of the chapel from my partner as he can't afford the burden anymore, it sucks not being 50-50 on it, and changes to capital gains tax could annihilate our position on the housing ladder if we're not proactive.

I'm short exactly the amount I lump-paid into our mortgage when the rates went up this time last year, because of course I am.

Trying to purge-sell everything I can to make it up, but those are all little shots of £10–50 here and there to the point where they almost feel like a waste of time. Maybe they are, idk, I can add things to eBay while I'm doing other chores so it doesn't feel like a phenomenal timesink, but fundamentally I should be putting all my braincells into getting a second job.

Which I've been putting off forever — I went to a four-day work week last year because I wasn't coping anymore. Had the intention of starting a small business to mix things up, but that time has been consumed by house repairs, vehicle repairs, vehicle sales, family shit. And lbr, I don't want to go back to work, so I'm not trying hard enough. Gotta get my act together. Pick some kind of job and do it. Immediately. 💀

But yeah. The car goes in spring and my half will add another £2–3k to my chapel pot. Only we've been looking into replacements and they're all set to depreciate in a way we've never had to budget for before. The Ranger was a strange COVID fluke that will never happen again. Before we had that, we bought the Combo for £6k and expected it to lose £2k over our period of ownership. COVID actually lifted the sale price to £7.5k.

I look at those strokes of luck and realise they're how I've amassed enough to be within spitting distance of buying the chapel, not any personal budgeting successes or hard work, and so EVEN THE LUCKY THINGS become stressors.

Last night a bit of decorative wood trim fell off the chapel. We fixed and repainted some rotten window trim last year, but couldn't reach the roof and put it off. So that's a chore for this coming year. Fingers crossed the roof doesn't cave in in the meantime. We live just down the road from an obnoxious gossipy village who will absolutely talk about this and whatever method we use to fix it. Jim keeps reading their toxic little FB posts waiting for us to become the topic of conversation. It's his personal doomscrolling addiction.

He's been pretty depressed since his degree ended and has been pushing me a bit to Get Prettier. This is very out of character for him, and he walks a lot of it back when he's feeling better and was very very good at helping me through some shopping shit I couldn't have dealt with without him, but the comments still stick in my head. I know they don't sprout from nothing.

I'm conscious I have a massive chip in my shoulder about fashion and beauty so I'm not entirely against repairing some of that, but fuck, I hate it so much. Shopping is the activity that first made me understand what people meant when they used the word triggered. I read people's Reddit posts about bras that fit and what slip to buy for a knit dress and how to puzzle out your personal colour season and I want to blow my brains out. This is invented crap for shallow people but it matters, somehow it has to matter TO ME. Jim's like hey, I know as a tomboy you never learnt to do makeup but there are so many YT tutorials around now that you're barely at a disadvantage! And I'm like bro pls understand that makeup looks like shit to me. I watch the videos & I'm watching a good-looking woman make herself look shit. And I have to copy that?

No. Makeup is not happening, but I'm trying to tackle the skincare and the nailcare and some reworking of my personal style.

The timing on this is horrific, however. Imagine us having these huge discussions about money and wasting our lives and stress-related health complaints and pensions and our parents' growing health concerns and me needing a job and the chapel needing repairs and who shoulders the mental load. And then I'm all ooh oopsie that's my exfoliation alarm hehe lemme go do that and then slap snail mucus on my face. Fucking kill me.

A lot of this is because he asked me to dress up for his graduation, so I've gotta act sane and not make it all about me me me and my apparently CPTSD-grade insanity/fury because it's his big event and I'm hugely fuckin proud of him for getting a first and earning it so decisively.

Anyway my mum had a huge breakdown earlier this year that I had to help her through. Honestly thought she might off herself. I went up to stay for a week and cleaned her house and fed her and got her onto new meds. When she first retired in 2020 she planned to move but COVID fucked that up in so many ways. Now she's trapped in that house, which is too old and huge and high maintenance for her, and sits on a hill so steep she cannot climb back up if she goes out for a walk. It's a constant source of stress and something of a prison for her. Her financial manager retired and let her pension payments lapse, too, so suddenly she had to sort all that out, and she's not financially literate at all so she passed it to me.

Her financial advisor did not grow her money at all. He had it from 2011 and it lost £50k in that time. £300k if you factor in what it should have made if she'd stuck it in a standard tracker account. I'm trying to sort out her will and important shit like power of attorney and what she wants us to do in various situations and she's all well as I have so much money I'll get a nurse to visit! And I have to tell her that's not possible. She can safely take £9k a year and that will see her through to ninety, but there isn't anything else. She needs to downsize the house and use that money to secure herself.

Naturally this means she keeps turning on me as the harbinger of doom. I'm trying to get her pension reinvested in better funds and split a portion of it off so she's better diversified/less exposed to what is frankly a terrifying market, and she's mad because I Sound Like My Father when I suggest she reduces her drawdown by whatever she can afford. Just for now. Leave as much in there as possible for as long as possible to maximise compound interest, pick up the slack.

She has a sick cat. He's costing £90 a month in meds + he needs regular work that ranges from £300-£700 each time. She won't reduce her drawdown amount because she wants money to pay for him. Don't I understand she WON'T be the kind of person who KILLS a cat for MONEY REASONS?

I note I made a mistake once on a topic like this one. I owned one of our family cats, but he stayed with her when I moved out because he was old and happy there. When his kidneys failed, we discussed over the phone what we should do. We agreed we'd put him down. I waited until the end of the working week to travel up there. When I arrived, I discovered she'd independently decided to try to save him and had him at the emergency vet the entire time. As he was my cat, I paid the bill for all that + the inevitable euthanasia. It wiped out all my savings for that year.

To me, you look after your animal as best you can. But if you can't afford the treatment, you can't afford the fucking treatment. You don't torpedo your struggling finances for them. Not as an old person who refuses to lower any other outgoing, go back to work or sell a single thing on eBay to fund them.

She suggests we put his care on my credit card and she'll pay me back when she can.

I don't understand this view on money. Yes you can spread the cost of things over time. But that won't change what percentage of your yearly income can reasonably be spent on certain things (cats, holidays, shit on Amazon).

...which is again why I'm the bad guy.

I've backed off. I think at this point I've done my best to set her on her feet/help her grapple with the problem. I'd do more but she doesn't want that, so I'm stumped. I am ofc conscious that if she runs out of money and doesn't move before she's too old to move and ends up in a depression pit I will still be on the hook for that. But hey.

I'm really rambling now.

The reality is that I need to be driven and have some kind of vision to get out of my current situation and it's hard. I felt I chased what I wanted pretty decisively in my twenties, but in my thirties (I turned 35 at the start of the month) I'm realising it's all simultaneously pointless and incredibly important forever. You have Do Things to spin a narrative to yourself and others that you are a good and worthy human being with Stuff Going On. And somehow I have to Do Things for another 30-40 years, and if I slack I'll lose opportunities and lose the things I've already accumulated. Everything evaporates if you're not fucking on it all the time. Gotta challenge yourself always. But if you push your limits! You get overstressed and take psychic damage and can't be as effective moving forwards!

This has been Nyx's brunch breakdown, thank you, pls let this stop rattling around in my head and let me get some goddamn sleep now.

[hush-writes-preg]

I totally feel you on the job sucking your soul out. I just want to work on building a life and it feels like I have no energy to even take care of myself after work, and I hate having to have my partner remind me all the time. I just want to be able to do things i enjoy without feeling guilty for putting off the dishes.

Big hugs for you, anon. Super big hugs (if you want 'em).

I feel like I can either try to build a life I want to lead, or I can work enough to make myself semi-comfortable. It doesn't feel like I'm allowed to have both. My nesting partner is disabled and can't work (and can't get income because how could a 30-year-old possibly not be able to work if they look physically sound /s), and both of us struggle with mental health stuff. Can't afford a car or even a tiny house somewhere like so many of my peers, and it sucks. Every time my partner brings up traveling someday or the fact that we might need a new phone/monitor/etc. soonish, I feel myself die a little inside because there's no way we can afford it.

I barely touch my interests and hobbies because I feel so incredibly guilty for doing anything that's not work, and I still feel like we barely scrape by each month. It's... ugh. Yeah.

Try to be kind to yourself, anon. Do the best that you can without tearing yourself down. And hang in there. It's gotta get better someday.