#i did think about checking out en when it came out

[pipsqueakparker]

Blitz's Horse Ranch - Sims 4

I did it, I made a lovely little ranch for Blitz, Stolas, Via, & Loona. Here's some pics. (Horse count is around 30 last I checked, btw)

Exterior Shots: Front, Front Porch, Back - I'm not a great builder, it looks big but all of the rooms are somehow so small? IDK, but we ran with what we built. (also most intricate roofing job of my life i swear) Landscaping was done with Stolas in mind, I think he'd keep it all looking very pretty... I'll do the back at some point, plus probably put a little garden out there. We also have a telescope on the second story deck and a nectar making station for Blitz on the back porch lmao

Interior:

Foyer/Kitchen/Dining Room - I tried to pull in little pieces where I could, apart from all the horses, but also the polaroids & photos on the wall. (I intend to play with them, so all the blank frames are there to fill during gameplay.)

Informal Family Room - I spent like twenty minutes choosing a couch... this is about where I lost my commitment to using as much of the Horse Ranch pack as I could... I still think I used a whole lot, though.

Formal Living Room/Bar Room - IDK what this is, but I know Stolas got to design it (there's also a lovely bar back that for some reason just wasn't showing up while I was taking these screenshots?? It's not just that little bar on that side of the room I swear)

Guest Room (For when Millie & Moxxie come over) - Very simple, because for the most part this is just an extra room where I'll probably keep skill items.

Primary Bedroom & En Suite - Blitz & Stolas - I tried to really lean into a story here, I love coming up with a story as I'm building, and this story... well, I think it's clear to see that there were many battles when they were moving in together. Stolas won when it came to picking out furniture, but he obviously caved for some of Blitz's design choices... namely the monstrosity of a rug. He hates it because its' ugly, but he loves it because Blitz loved it enough to offer sexual favors for a month if they could buy it. (An empty bribe, it's not like that wasn't going to happen anyway.)

Loona's Room & En Suite - You can probably tell that I started getting bored once I got upstairs... I've been doing this for about eight hours, I'll definitely go back in and add more to the upstairs, but this is what we have for now for Loona. (Claw marks are there bc of nightmares, just so you have that angsty backstory I came up with.)

Via's Room - I feel bad because its so small, I'm already planning to renovate it, but this is what I got for now.

Stolas's Reading Room - This was the first room I decorated and it probably shows, but honestly I loved making him a little library/reading nook here. He also has a cow plant, and once it's seasonally appropriate in-game, he'll get a little garden out back.

I also made them and started playing (Blitz rescued his first horse, Sunbeam). This is the only screen shot I remembered to take, and Loona started walking away as I took it - rude - but they were all just sat together in the family room watching a movie it was so sweet!

I did make Stolas & Via spellcasters, and Loona a werewolf. (I'll have to throw my Angel & Molly into this save as their neighbors.)

[egophiliac]

you don't play on the en server?

nope, I play JP! been there since day one, babyyyy ✌️

I do sometimes try to check in on where EN is, but it's not always super clear (I think they might've finished episode 6? except in only two parts...?) so I try to spoiler-tag over-judiciously just in case. :') though I did see it's getting Kelkkarotu soon, which is -- well okay the first part kind of drags but once it picks up it's one of my favorites, I'm excited for EN to get it! REVEL IN THE COMFY WINTER OUTFITS

[snghnlvr]

come on baby, don’t say that. / park sunghoon

park sunghoon x fem reader

synopsis : you were curious whether or not your boyfriend was a possessive type so you tested it out.

includes: 1.4k words | fluff 4 sunghoon stans (aka me) , suggestive ending oohooolala | VAMP SUNGHOON | zb1 taerae appearance! | sunghoon is a menace but so is y/n… grrr possessive sunghoon … | both are simps but cuties patooties <33

extra: his part in the baby shark movie lives in my mind 24/7, i hear it everywhere anytime and it’s making me LOSE my damn sanity | the ONE fansign video of op asking questions to sunghoon about dating ggggrrrrrrr | literally last minute drabble i had , it was supposed to be posted for my birthday but studies got in the way .. ew studies…:// | en o’ clock reference⁉️

likes, comments and reposts are very appreciated <3

[below the cut]

curiosity perhaps did kill the cat.

you wore your favorite dress (also sunghoon’s favorite dress), styled your favorite into a bun with two strands on each side of your face, wore makeup to emphasize your face features and wore your favorite ruffled socks to put your loafers on.

you dolled yourself so much just for sunghoon’s attention, but on the bright side you felt pretty all dressed up.

you didn’t know what was purpose of doing this to yourself up when you didn’t have any plans.

one day, bored in your living room of both you and sunghoon’s apartment, you came across a video on your foryou page about possessive behavior in someone’s partner. it made you think about your boyfriend’s behavior; curiosity overwhelming your thoughts. you tried to imagine what your boyfriend will do if these scenarios were to happen.

so, you planned out a script - going to the movie theatre with your male friend, eating with your male friend, etc. ; literally spending a whole day with a male friend. heck, you can’t imagine doing those things with a male other than sunghoon. you don’t even have money in your wallet right now.

you’ve always known sunghoon as a quiet yet clingy type of boyfriend. he wasn’t openly expressive with his clinginess he would be subtle. even with that itself it made your heart pound like crazy. but you wanted to take a step further on how clingy he could get.

you stepped out of the room, already seeing sunghoon lying around in the living room couch with his eyes glued to the tv. his eyes immediately diverted to you, getting your loafers out in front of the door.

“where are you going?” he asked, his eyes scanning to your dressed up figure. you knew he was shamelessly checking you out. it made your heart flutter and somehow boosted up your ego. but you shouldn’t be phased by his attractive face.

he wanted to compliment you but he spoke without thinking. he wonders where your gorgeous self is going especially with that little dress you owned that he loves on your body. he wonders what was the special occasion.

you put on a soft smile while adjusting your shoes. you noticed that sunghoon stood up, eyes still checking you out and wonders how such a dress curves your body so well.

sunghoon had a small smirk with his hands on his pocket, abandoning the pillow on his lap. it flopped next to him.

you smelt sunghoon’s signature scent of musk and a blend of roses. he wore his favorite grey hoodie that was stained with his cologne. it was because you would borrow it.

now that sunghoon was in front of you, he continue to look at you as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. that’s when you spoke. “mhm just going out.” you spoke sweetly to sunghoon but he kept you against the wall as the door was right next to the both of you but you didn’t comment. you knew he was trapping you.

“with who?” you noticed how sunghoon raised an eyebrow and how his expression slowly changed into a sad one that he wasn’t the person you’re going out with.

“just a friend of mine.” you looked up to sunghoon and noticed how your answer didn’t satisfied him so you pushed it further. “a male friend of mine.” you placed a hand on his chest, lightly playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“excuse me?” sunghoon spoke, slightly amused because usually you would hang out with your female friends.

your heart was starting to exhilarate when his voice octaves dropped. “hanbin? mark? jisung?” he started rambling of the guy friends that you had on the top of his head.

you were surprised at how many he remembered. is that a good thing?

sunghoon noticed your eyes widening so he took a deep breath and placed a soft smile that seemed a bit fake from your perspective.

“don’t go.”

what a contrast.

you almost snickered when you noticed sunghoon’s lips twitching, trying to lee his smile still but his hands wrapped around your waist, wrapped further until his hands reached his elbows. you were cold to him, close enough that your hands on his chest was the only barrier separating you two.

you found it somehow adorable to see him pouting.

you copied him. “taerae and i planned to go out and work work on our project for a while now.” you mentally apologized for using your friend’s name on the spot but you panicked to make something new on top of your head.

“where are you guys going?” you couldn’t handle sunghoon’s stare despite dating him so you looked down towards his buff chest. sometime about his stare sparked jealousy and agitated but he kept his mouth shut.

“we planned to watch a movie theatre together then a cafe and then the library.”

“alone?”

“yeah..”

you swore when you looked up at sunghoon, he was frozen, mouth apart as he was speechless. his eyes started to twitch. he then blinked at you multiple times to see if you were joking.

well, you were. but you kept a serious face on which didn’t show any sort of crackling.

“it sounds more like a date.” you can tell his whiny tone with his words, lips pouting that made you want to pinch his cheeks but you held back.

you shook his head. “why would i have a date with taerae when i can have with you?” you tilted your head, chuckling at his remark. “you’re literally my boyfriend.” you giggled lightly.

sunghoon sighed. “then don’t go. i’ll help you with the project instead, heck i’ll go to taerae instead of you.” his eyes were showing pettiness that you can’t help but lightly giggle. you saw sunghoon’s grumpy expression as he kept you close to him.

you poked at his birth mole under his eye. “boop.” were the words you let out but it didn’t phase sunghoon, keeping his grumpy expression on.

“we don’t even attend the same college hoon.” sunghoon’s eyes soften when you easily roll off his nickname out loud. he rather rolled his eyes instead.

“i have to go soon,” you looked at the clock behind sunghoon’s figure. it was 2pm. you were surprised your acting has gone this far and you’re continuing. you thought it was fun to make your boyfriend jealous.

“hoon, let go of me.” your hands flew to his triceps, surprised at how his muscle flexed against your touch. you lightly touched his muscle which broke sunghoon’s grumpy expression again.

you looked at him with an eyebrow raise, hoping he would be persuaded to let you go but he shook his head like a kid.

“come on baby, don’t say that.”

your heart beat started pounding like crazy. you were astonished at the unexpected sentence. you suddenly stared at sunghoon, how a strand of hair was covering his eye so you unconsciously moved it behind his ear, eyes watching your actions. sunghoon stared at your lips, stained with your red lipstick.

“taerae can wait another day.” sunghoon started rubbing your back with his hands, making you frozen and loosing your train of thoughts.

yeah forget taerae.

“it would be amazing to show him how beautiful my girlfriend is but i want you to myself right now baby.” sunghoon started to lean closer, his hand cupping your jaw and slowly easing your cheek with his soft fingers.

you closed your eyes and leaned against his relaxing touch. “you sound possessive park.” you were satisfied with your act, chuckling slightly at how amused you are.

sunghoon giggled as well, his deep giggle erupting in him as you felt him leaning more into you. “mhmm maybe?” he shrugged with a smile.

you opened your eyes and see sunghoon staring at you with love and affection. you can’t help but to plant a lot of kisses to his lips. you saw sunghoon staring at your lips and you predicted what was gonna happen next.

“mhmm yeah.” you smiled mischievously at sunghoon, removing his arms from your waist and turned around towards the door which showed your back to him.

maybe you’re not done yet.

but before you can open the door, sunghoon wrapped his arms once again which prevented you from not moving. your hands reached to the cold door handle but didn’t touch. his hands gripped your hips which indicated a new side of your boyfriend, park sunghoon.

sunghoon’s lips pecked your neck. “not on my watch.” his hot breath contrasted your cold skin, tickling you.

your heart paused at his actions.

you felt your boyfriend’s chest against your back, giving you instant warmth to your cold, clammy skin. his hug was very comforting and at this point you gave up with your little skit.

“possessive and back hugging me? how romantic.” you chuckled. you felt a sharp pain in the side of your neck, “ow!” you shouted in shock when it was sunghoon’s playful behavior of showing his love. you knew sunghoon had fangs and he unfortunately is abusing that characteristic of his by biting you. you rather found it his fangs adoring yet a bit hot that your boyfriend looked like an actual vampire.

you felt sunghoon’s tongue’s slowly soothing that area when he licked your pain away; like a cat. you smiled when he hugged you tighter as his face was dug into your neck as if you’ll disappear.

sunghoon abruptly stopped hugging you but rather grabbed your hand, dragging you across the hallway towards the bed that both of you live in, filled with smiles and flustered cheeks.

thank you for reading<3 hope you enjoyed!

[totaly-obsessed]

The Weight of Expectations

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Happy Birthday to my darling @greynatomy, love ya!

-> Alexia struggles through the IVF journey and turns mean

-> Talk of pregnancy, alcohol and abuse

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”

Oh. Alexia was home, something new. You were currently in the bathroom closest to the bedroom, heaving up anything that you had eaten, even the light soup. 

For a couple of days, you had been like this, and two days ago you had finally done a test. A pregnancy test. This was the last IVF round before Ale and you had to start considering other options like adoption. The first 2 rounds had failed.

Positive. The goddamn test was finally positive.

Immediately you had made an appointment for a blood test to get done. You just had to be sure before telling Alexia. The blonde already blamed herself, thinking she had waited for too long, hesitant to have a child while in the midst of her career before she finally committed to it.

You had been so incredibly happy when she came to you after a game. Tears streamed down your face when she told you that she was ready to have a child. With you.

The disappointment of two failed attempts weighed heavily on Alexia. She desperately tried to console you as you cried, hiding her own tears in her pillow when you finally passed out. How could she be sad when you had to go through the physical aspect as well?

She shouldn't have waited that long, maybe 29 was too old.

After that things changed. She had left for Spain camp, and after that, she threw herself back into work in Barcelona. Her surgery was healing well and she was getting better and better by the day.

Meanwhile, you were sat at home, trying to understand the change in your wife. Did you do something wrong? With the previous tries the footballer had been so involved, checking in on you multiple times a day when she was at training. 

And now? Nothing.

Alone you had gone to the blood test yesterday, not even needing an explanation for your wife, who came home after you had gone to bed and left before you woke up.

Eight Weeks. You were already two months along. In Alexia's absence, you had completely forgotten to test, wanting to do it with her.

As soon as you had gotten the confirmation, the morning sickness hit ten times harder. Who even decided to call it that? Morning sickness… What a stupid fucking name. The whole day was filled with sudden cramps and vomiting.

And you had done it all alone until now. 

But Alexia was here now, yelling in the kitchen, before she stomped up the stairs to the bathroom, looking into every door available on her way. She was looking for you.

She hesitated for a second, seeing you crouched on the floor, head over the toilet, and pale as the white wall behind you.

“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”, she yelled again, now in your face.

“I am serious Ale, what's up?”

This was the first time you had seen her in a couple of days, her roots were starting to show, as did the bags under her eyes. But the rest of her body looked stronger than ever, the countless hours in the gym paying off.

“The kitchen is a mess, you didn’t do the laundry and you didn't mop the floors either. Look how filthy it is in this house!”

Wow.

You didn't know what you had been expecting. But definitely not this.

With slow movements you pushed yourself up, using the sink to help balance yourself. Fuck were you dizzy.

“W- What did you mean?” You hated how meek your voice sounded after your wife practically yelled at you.

Her face was red, and her eyes looked like she had been bitten by the devil, spit gathering at the corners of her mouth.

Crazy. She looked really fucking crazy, and it was terrifying.

“¿En serio?”

“Let’s just go downstairs, I made dinner and we can talk about it.” 

With a scoff the blonde turned on the spot, stomping down the stairs, leaving you in the bathroom. Tears threatened to fall. What has happened?

With your nausea, it took you a bit longer to navigate the stairs. Every step hurt, but Alexia couldn’t care less about your pain-filled noises. She was busy stabbing a fork into her dinner, already scarfing a plate of your favorite pasta dish down.

“Finally. God, you always take so long.”

The words were filled with hate as she spat them at you, not even noticing that a bit of the sauce was flung onto her cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, she had never managed to eat without making a mess of herself and the table. With a damp cloth, you tried to wipe the spot away, but when she hit your hand away from her, the cloth sailed to the floor as you looked at her. Eyes wide in panic.

“I am not your goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”

Your wives' usually warm eyes pierced your heart even more. Was this really the same woman who would carry you to bed every night, even after grueling training and rehab sessions?

The tears you had breathed away were back, a painful sensation in your eyes as Alexia continued to devour the meal you had prepared with so much excitement to tell her as if it didn't mean anything.

“This tastes like shit. Not even good for cooking.” She threw the fork on the plate, the clattering sound ripping you out of your shock-induced trance. “Do you want me to make you something different?

Your wife looked terrifying. Her eyes were wide open with small pupils that moved around quickly, looking you up and down before making their way through the house. The rest of her face was stoic, a facade she had perfected over the years. One that she didn’t usually use with you.

“No. I don’t want new food. I want you to get yourself together.”

The room filled with a heavy silence that nearly made you gasp for air. What did she mean?

“Amore I don’t know what has gotten into you, but maybe we should just go for a quick walk? Get some fresh air?”

That was the final nail in the coffin for the footballer, who stood up with such force, that the chair slid back and toppled over with a startling noise.

“Fresh air? You want fresh air?” She was getting in your face now, hunching a little to really get close. “Do you know what I want?”

Her breath was warm as it hit your nose.

Alcohol. You could smell alcohol.

She was a mean drunk, snapping at anyone who dared to get too close to her, her dog, or you. But just like her stern face, you were usually safe from her drunken attitude. Your wife always pushed you behind her as soon as anything looked like trouble.

This was new and you hated it.

“What do you want Ale?”

the defender had emptied your cup of coffee in one go, slamming the mug down on the counter.

“What do I want? I a housewife that can actually do her fucking job!” She was yelling now, some of the words accentuated with harsh hand movements and slight pushes to your shoulders.

“And look at how you let yourself go. Fucking pathetic! How can I even show myself in public with you?”

Shit that hurt.

You were finally pregnant with a very much wanted child, and she acted like this after leaving you alone for such a long time.

“Gained so much weight it’s-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You didn't yell. You didn’t shout. You said it with a normal voice. Well as normal as you could with tears threatening to spill.

But it was enough to quiet the drunk blonde. 

“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?”

It felt as if she was looking at you for the first time when her eyes softened and her whole body slumped. She fucked up. And she knew it.

In a frenzy you started packing things, throwing stuff into a suitcase while your wife tried to stop you. “Where are you going? Amore, please! I am so sorry!”

But it was too late.

With a suitcase and Alexia’s car, you made your way to Eli’s house, you had no one in Spain, all your family back home, so you decided to turn to your wife's mother who loved you to no end and had spent a lot of time at your house while Alexias had been ‘busy’ the last few weeks.

Alexia watched as you left. You were pregnant with a child that she wanted so badly, and she fucked it up.

Tomorrow she will make up for it. She really will.

[juleswrites223]

Dad!Carlos Sainz x Mom!Reader ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Context: Your son is a menace in a car, just like Carlos was at his age

a/n: This is inspired by that video of baby Carlos in a car, drifting like a boss 😂. Also for Mateo's face claim i just took Carlos when he was a child to really give the feel that he is a carbon copy of his dad. I used google translate for the spanish.

“Mateo is an exact copy of Carlos no?” Reyes, Carlos’ mother says as you are out on a brunch date with her.

“Right?? Even the way he even scrunches his nose.” You say to your mother in law. “It’s unfair, I carried him for nine months, all for him to be a carbon copy of his papa.” You whine.

Reyes laughs and you guys continue talking then head to the car. As you’re fastening your seatbelt, the phone lights up with your husband’s caller ID.

“Hola cariño, have you picked up Mateo from preschool yet?” Carlos’ voice comes through the phone.

“Hi, I’m with your mom, we went out for a brunch date, I’m actually on my way to go pick him up right now, where are you?” You say as you pull out of the parking lot.

“I just finished golfing with my father, we were on our way back so I was thinking if it would take you more time then I would pick up Mateo.” Carlos says.

"No it's fine, the preschool is barely 10 mins away from here. How was golfing?" You say as you drive towards your son's preschool with your mother in law.

"I got a hole in one, th-", Carlos says as he's interrupted by his father.

"Hola Y/N, your husband cheated." Carlos Sainz sr, your father in law, says quickly.

"Eres sólo un mal perdedor, cariño. (you are just a sore loser, honey)" Reyes laughs as she tells her husband.

The conversation ends as you pull up at your son's preschool. His face lights up the moment he sees your car, as soon as you step in the gate, Mateo's joyous voice rings, "MAMAAA".

You pick Mateo up in your arms and carry him till the car while conversing with him. His face lights up even more when he sees his abuela in the car too.

"How was your day bubba? Abeula came too because she missed you." You ask him as you strap in him the baby seat.

"It was bueno (good). I did counting today." Mateo says as he imitates counting on his fingers.

"Mateo, tu papá te consiguió un auto en el que puedes conducir. (Mateo, Your papa got you a car that you can drive in)" Reyes says as you drive.

"¿Auto? como el de papa? (car? like papa's?)" Mateo tilts his head as he asks, clearly curious.

"Un poco diferente al de papa. (a little different that papa's)" You say as you guys arrive at you and Carlos' house.

"Hola hola." You greet your husband by kissing his lips when you enter and hug your father in law.

They seem to be watching moto gp but as soon as Mateo comes in with his abuela, he excitedly runs to his abuelo.

"Mateo ¿Qué pasa con papá? (what about papa?)", Carlos says as he feigns hurt.

Mateo's favourite one in the whole family is definitely his grandfather. Whenever people ask Mateo who is his best friend, he always says his abuelo.

Carlos sneakily goes to the abuelo-nieto (grandfather-grandson) duo and picks up Mateo and tickles him. Mateo's sweet laughter rings throughout the living room.

"Quiero ver bluey (i want to watch bluey)", Mateo whines and points at the tv when he sees the tv on but it's not showing his favourite show.

"Carlos, Sabes que quiere ver su programa cada vez que ve la televisión encendida (You know he wants to watch his show whenever he sees the tv on). You know what show him his new car, its in the backyard, that will distract him." You tell your husband.

"Mateo, vamos a ver tu auto (Mateo lets go check out your car)." Carlos says as he takes Mateo with him to the backyard. Mateo runs towards the car and immediately sits in it.

"Bebé, ten cuidado, ¿vale? No hay derivas, ¿vale? (baby be careful okay. No drifts okay?)", you say to your son.

Mateo, just like his father, drives fast and crazy. With every drifty turn he's making in his toy car, your heart drops to your stomach in fear he's going to hurt himself.

"¡¡CUIDADOSO!! (CAREFUL!!)"

"MATEO!"

"Mateo conduce bebé lento! (Mateo drive slow baby!)"

This is how he's driving for context.

You shriek until he finally stops and smiles for the picture his abuelo is taking.

"Bien, comamos y veamos Bluey ahora, ¿eh? (Okay, let's eat and watch bluey now huh?", You try to convince your son and luckily it works. He gets out of the car and dashes to the couch.

"¿Por qué le compraste ese auto peligroso? (Why would you get him that dangerous car?) He could have seriously hurt himself." You smack your husband's chest as he comes up behind you and hugs you from the back.

"Haha, Si te estás volviendo loco por esto, ¿cómo reaccionarás cuando empiece a hacer karting? (If you're freaking out about this then how will you react when he starts karting?)" He laughs and kisses you lightly on the lip and you guys walk inside.

It's later in the evening when you go over to the couch and kiss your baby boy's head, who is peacefully sleeping. "I just want him to stay safe forever. ¿es demasiado pedir? Como su madre, eso es todo lo que deseo. (is it too much to ask for? As his mother, that's all i wish for.)

"No siempre podemos proteger a nuestros hijos, pero podemos hacer todo lo posible para garantizar que se mantengan a salvo. Sentí lo mismo que tú ahora cuando Carlos era joven y empezó a hacer karting. (We can't always protect our children but we can do our best to ensure they keep themselves safe. I felt the same way you do now when Carlos was young and he started karting.)" Reyes says to you in hoping to aid your worry. And it does.

You cuddle with Mateo on the couch as you continue conversing with your mother in law while Carlos and his dad are preparing dinner. You look down at your son who is sleeping and looking at his adorable face, you know he's gonna be alright, but it doesn't hurt if you wanna do everything in your power to protect him for a few more years, right?

[mysunshinetemptress]

As long as you need

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: talks of periods, blood, endometriosis, just fluff, sorry it’s short. Got my period today and have been dying and so this was born

Periods where a natural occurrence for women globally, with each woman experiencing different things throughout their cycles, some suffered from hormone imbalances which caused them to gain acne or moody, some girls bloated during their cycle, some girls felt depressed, some got cramps and some girls had no symptoms but some girls also got all symptoms together or suffered really really bad cramps.

Leah suffered with cramps, not an uncommon symptom of periods but she suffered with them terribly even long before you both had met, she had opened up to you about them two months into your relationship talking to you about how one cycle she could be fine the next slight cramping but when she had a flare up boy did she crumble with pain and discomfort, you had thanked her for trusting you enough with this information before telling her you would be there for her no matter what and you had been there for whenever she needed. You had also been there in the doctors office holding her hand when they finally told her she had endometriosis, when the doctors had finally listened to her and told her that what she was going through wasn’t just her being dramatic like she so feared. You had sat reminding her how strong she was and how you would be there to support her through it all any flare up that came her way.

And today was a a bad flare up today was your four year anniversary and you had been excitingly planning a trip to a local castle to stay for a few nights basking in each other’s presence for a few nights before heading home to The Williamson’s weekly dinner. You had woken up in your excitement texting Leah happily wishing her a happy anniversary and that you would see her just before lunch when you planned to pick her up and drive to the castle. Getting ready for the day you waltzed around your apartment busting yourself with packing the last of the things you needed.

You checked your phone frowning when you noticed Leah had never texted you back earlier before deciding to call her to tell her you were on your way to get her. You began to worry as the phone kept ringing before panic began to seep in when it went to voicemail. You hung up the phone grabbing your things racing to the car to get to Leah’s unsure of what you where about to witness but the overwhelming feeling of wanting to make sure your girlfriend was ok pushed all the bad thoughts to the side.

You jumped out of the car before racing to her door and knocking not wanting to just barge in but after five minutes you pulled the key from your pocket and opened the door shouting into the house “Leah.” You didn’t hear anything as you placed the keys on the counter and began looking for her “Darling you here.” As you made your way down the hall you heard a hum coming from the en-suite in her bedroom “my lovely you ok.” You tried the door to find it locked “Le open the door.” You didn’t hear anything but the lock click bride opening the door to see Leah sitting on the bathroom floor spots of blood covered her pyjama bottoms and the floor before looking at your offaly pale girlfriend who was looking at you her eyes brimming with tears “hey pretty girl it’s ok.” Leah shook her head “I’m so sorry Y/n.” You shook your head as you looked around the bathroom “you have nothing to be sorry for my girl.” You crouched down grabbing her face “what do you need.” Leah looked at you as a tear raced down her cheek “you.” You smiled sadly at her “you have me, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere but do you need anything else.” Leah shook her head as you sat on the ground “I’m so sorry, I thought it was tomorrow and I didn’t think it was going to be bad but I just I woke up and it wouldn’t stop.” You pulled her into your chest “you don’t have to explain anything to me it’s ok, I don’t mind sitting here with you ok don’t be sorry you’re ok.” You continued to talk soothingly to the girl for hours often breaking when she had to puke from the pain but yet she still wouldn’t let you leave. An hour after the last wave you of sickness you could tell Leah was getting sleepy “let’s move you to the bed humm.” Leah didn’t put up a fight as you stood slowly pulling her up before placing her on the edge of the bath before leaving to get new PJs “you want to have a shower now or later.” Leah shook her head “shower later please.” You nodded kissing her head before asking for permission to lift her top “ok arms up.” You kissed her neck softly as you undressed her before pulling her into clean pjs and picking her up to head to the bed constantly reassuring her, Leah whined as you moved away “I’m just going to clean the bathroom and throw your pjs in the wash ok, I’ll be back.” Kissing her forehead again you began cleaning up before getting a hot water bottle and tablets for her and heading back into her room before climbing into the bed not caring about changing out of your leggings and jumper. Leah moved to lie on top of you resting her head in your neck kissing it softly “I love you.” You hummed playing with her hair “ I know, I love you too.” Leah snuggled closer “thank you for looking after me.” You sighed turning to kiss her forehead “I’ll happily look after you for the rest of forever.” You pulled her impossibly closer before closing your eyes smiling softly as Leah kissed you neck once more.

[yeeterthek33per]

Meet You Maybe Never (Chapter 2)

A/n Here we go, y'all. Enjoy 😘

Part 2 of this.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff. Also terribly translated German, feel free to telepathically forehead smack me if it's wrong. Time jumps a few times but I'm hoping it makes sense.

--------------------------

Early morning runs.

Specifically, Magda's early morning runs.

Despite Pernille's disgust at the woman's early morning energy levels, she'd gotten used to the ten years of waking up to an either empty bed or a very sweaty wake-up call from a freshly run-out Magda.

So, inevitably, when she woke up this morning, she suspected it was due to the front door shutting behind a returning girlfriend.

However, the loudness was more of a startle awake than her usual slow wake to hearing something shift in the room or her girlfriend kissing her awake.

The Swede wasn't one to slam doors, in fact, she usually would chastise anyone who had, a little too enthusiastically, slammed any doors in the house.

Pernille included.

"Pernille, I know you're asleep but you need to see this."

A soft grumble into the pillow.

"Not anymore."

"It happened again!"

Grunting, she sits up sleepily, although more alert than her previous state now.

"Magda wha-"

A phone shoved into her face the moment the Swede practically launches herself into the room and onto the bed, with much more enthusiasm than should be had at seven in the morning.

"Look."

As if she hadn't gotten the hint already.

Squinting, like only a freshly woken dead person can, at the phone screen, she sees a photo of a newly painted mural come into view.

"Okay...?"

The dirty blonde woman huffs.

"Did you actually look at it?"

The Dane cracks an unimpressed brow but looks back at the phone now.

It's a familiar piece.

Or at least the work is.

It's a mural of Magda this time.

Brightly painted like it just came out of the can.

"I could have caught the Straßengänger, that's how fresh it is."

"We should check it out later, can I go back to sleep now?"

Pouting softly but returning to a standing position from where she now realises is her girlfriends lap, Magda moves towards the en suite doorway.

"Or you could get up and come save water?"

The Swede makes a come hither gesture, but the older woman just shakes her head, tucking herself happily back under the covers.

"Shower and then come cuddle and I might think about getting up in an hour."

A soft chuckle and then the door shutting is the last thing she hears before she's back to sleep, followed by a shuffle in the bedding and a now clean and dry body wrapping around her frame a little while later.

It was news, but it could wait.

At least, it could for her, but it was something playing on the Swede's mind as she attempted to relax into her partners sleeping form.

--------------------------

Life in Munich had thankfully been less hectic than when they'd first arrived.

Mostly in part due to Pernille's previous history with Germany.

That was one Magda would happily let her partner take credit for, despite stubbornly struggling with the language, she was grateful for the Dane and her heavily doting teammates.

Said doting teammates had thankfully shown her enough spots and routes around town for jogs, places to avoid during certain times of day, the whole lot.

That was something she'd listed as a must-do.

Her morning runs were crucial in her routine, despite her partners protests early on to stay in bed for a while longer.

They eventually settled for a cuddle session after showering upon return, although, it only took them a year of living together to finally come to that agreement in London.

The cool morning air in Munich felt especially crisp but better than the late winter mornings had been.

Spring was on the way and that made it all the better to be running.

That was her excuse, anyway.

She was more interested in keeping an eye out for more information or sightings of a certain street artist.

And she had nothing to worry about, because within a month and a half, another appeared, this time much more of an invigorating find.

She was first to the scene here, and nothing had been touched in terms of how fresh the paint looked.

She was almost certain if she had shown earlier, she would have met with the artist themself, again.

It seems she'd have to try a bit harder, though, because there was no sign of the masked individual that morning.

Though, that wasn't much of a surprise.

They'd been especially careful to not be caught after having been plastered over the Munich forums with a single photo of them catching onto the media within hours.

That'd been before they arrived though, and it's been months since then.

Still, they were becoming more and more intriguing the more the artist left behind murals.

It'd be less intriguing if they were just doing murals for the club, but it seems like they've taken a focus on two players and two players only.

Everything else she had come across had been entirely different, usually just simple landscapes and dig as she might, nothing else.

She hadn't been keen on getting in on the investigations to do with the Straßengänger, at least until she realised how invested she was becoming along with her partner.

As she scanned over the mural, smaller details appeared.

Only, this time, the words seemed to be a bit more targeted towards her, much like Pernille's mural was towards her.

"Determined."

"Observant"

"Radiant."

"Competitive."

And one more word in German that she has to translate.

"Analytisch"

Analytical.

After that, she steps back, takes a photo and practically sprints the rest of the way back to the apartment.

By the time she's in the door, shouting up the stairs at her most likely asleep girlfriend, she's winded herself enough to forget to even consider what half of the wording meant.

And not just on the level of it being who she is as a person.

These were on purpose.

To specifically draw their attention.

Or at least hers.

In fact it doesn't occur to her that it's anything but another mural.

At least not until she's doing warm downs later that day and it clicks in her head.

She'd spent so much time analysing the artist and asking questions, she didn't even think about the part where said artist might have connections locally that would spread word about her asking about them.

--------------------------

It takes less than a day to hear about a certain Swede's line of questioning about a certain Straßengänger.

A little bit of sleuthing yourself leads you to how much she actually knows.

It's amusing you if anything.

Hence why you left the mural the way you did.

Gave her an incentive, let her know you know.

Or that the Straßengänger knows.

Also because you had an itch, and it needed to be scratched.

You'd done Pernille enough justice, then Magda.

Only you had to come up with something because that itch was starting to come back.

Regardless, you'd let your latest piece catch it's traction first.

Inspire more of an audience, you inspire attention and support to the women's game.

That's why you're doing this in the first place.

Isn't it?

It's also why you're stuck in several back to back meetings with several media lackeys right now.

You love your job but damn, sometimes you hate it.

Not to be ungrateful, nor ignorant of the knowledge of what you signed up for.

It's just another part of life and you'd have to scratch whatever itches that come from outside of it, later.

At some point, in the umpteenth meeting for the day, you spot a certain pair wander by the window, chatting animatedly with someone you were certain would be coming in for a meeting with you now.

Then, it seems, they enter the room.

You weren't aware they were joining you but who were you to complain.

"Ah, apologies for the interruption, Director, but they were just finishing up the last of their training before they could come down."

"That's quite alright, you ladies are free to take the table whenever you wish. I'm not in any hurry, trust me."

The pair smile and enter the room, taking seats in the remaining spots at the table, while the attending media manager introduced their presence in the meeting.

"So, we have been working on this partnership for a while. I understand the nature of this kind of deal would normally be dealt with by the players' personal managers or themselves but with everything happening all at once.."

The manager then gestures to the women to speak.

It's the Swede who speaks up first.

"We were hoping for a project management approval so we could get this under way quicker and easier. Estée Lauder have contacted Pernille and myself through our managers, and would like to partner with us to get a Women's health initiative started."

The older woman nods, turning to you directly.

"Director, if we could ask for someone on your team, or perhaps if you can grant the time, since we've seen the work you do."

A small brow in question at the woman across from you.

"As in, we've seen the women's projects you've started, completed, supported. We'd love for you to be involved directly, if you were willing to spare the time of course, the women's side of the club could directly benefit from the media attention of course, but also for the club as a whole. Or perhaps, if you can't maybe someone you'd be willing to trust with working with us on this? I know it's a lot to ask as two players who have only recently joined but-"

"Yes. I will assist in this project."

"And I think- yes?"

Amused with the surprise on the pairs' faces, you hold a hand up, explaining yourself further.

"You don't need to convince me anymore, it's the perfect time actually, this could be a great, and mind the terrible wording here, kick off to our season's campaigning plan. I would love to help this initiative get started personally. Contact me directly when you want to get started."

The wide smiles on the pairs faces make the extra work worth it as they both shake your hand, thanking you.

"We appreciate this so much."

"Of course, when it's for the support of women in the world, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Of course, it's completely true, this isn't just extra work to you.

It's a very important project that you'd take over and over if it meant the growth, support and visibility for women's health.

Smiling and nodding as they leave, you turn to your assistant, Liana.

"Liana, can you please put the Estée Lauder project on priority?"

"Of course, would you like me to put their numbers direct through to you as well?"

"Yes, thank you."

And true to your word and theirs, they call within a day, organising the information both sides will need.

"Alright, so we need to organise the time and place for you both to actually meet and settle an agreement for media duties, targeting audience, public viewership accessibility, etcetera."

"Magdalena and myself were both discussing possible days and times, with the upcoming international, we were hoping to do it before then, maybe in two weeks time?"

"Sounds good, I'll contact them on your behalf, if that's okay of course, and arrange a day between say, the twenty-second and the eighth?"

"Perfect, is there anything else we should prep before then?"

"Just your lovely selves, I'll have everything ready by then."

Nodding to the camera, you wave a small goodbye over the video call, hanging up after receiving confirmation, noting down everything they'd told you about the deal.

As you'd promised, within the following forty-eight hours, you call the representative that Pernille had supplied the number for, letting her know you were calling on behalf of the pair.

"Yes, hello, I am calling on behalf of Pernille Harder and Magdalena Eriksson. As their representative and representative of the organisation that employs them, I've been asked to organise a time and place for the negotiations of the upcoming project I've been made aware you and your organisation have been planning?"

It goes as smoothly as it could, surprising you if anything at how cordial the rep was being.

Normally you'd often have to go to bat for the players and any compensation they'd be advised to be given but they were generous and if anything, Pernille and Magda had themselves specified there was not much if anything that they wanted from this except to boost this project publicly.

They're an actively public persona and set of footballers, so really, the only thing to gain here is more support for the women's game.

The rep has zero qualms about compensating the players, but they both refuse, instead encouraging that the money be spent towards the project.

Donating their own time, and any possible pay prospects towards the future of Women's health.

If you weren't falling for the pair little by little already, now you definitely were.

And you had something to say about it.

Or rather.

Paint it.

-------------------------

It takes weeks until the launch of the progress, and videos are released. It's smooth as anything with them, like you expected.

You were constantly hearing from your crew about how easy it was to work with the pair for media days, so anything like this wasn't any different in your eyes.

They were confident, well respected, and self respected, level headed during proceedings and incredibly smart about any decisions they had to make.

In fact, you'd say you weren't even needed ninety percent of the time, the only time you really needed to speak on behalf of them to do with larger legal matters and anything to do with your place in this.

Everything else went through them.

Thus, you had time to plan your next move.

It was a set out large wall, freshly painted white and you'd managed to even get it in a larger area so you had plenty of space to work.

Your only challenge was doing it during the night.

Taking inspiration from the company involved, and from the footballers, using the colours of the Estée Lauder logo, a deep blue and whites, almost like black and white portraits, monochrome but with a deep navy instead, you painted both of their images up on the wall.

This time, using entirely words for the fill in and not just certain parts.

You knew this one would take a while, but it could be done.

After the very slow process of mapping out everything, you began going over it with a layer of black paint, slowly carving each shadow, crease line, jawline, pupil shine, each piece a small word of description.

This time, the words in each of their respective native languages.

Thankfully, you had a little help with that.

Not intentional of course, getting them to create media profiles, talking about themselves in languages their fans would understand from the national team, not just English and German.

Picking up bits and pieces, and a thankfully very helpful closed captioner sitting by your side who wrote and translated everything for the videos, and yourself, for Creative Director purposes, obviously.

Words like

"Empowered"

"Luminous"

"Inspired"

"Protective" For Magda

"Phenomenal" For Pernille.

And everything in between that you can put in.

But mostly one word that's resonated with you since they first got announced as a part of your club.

"Captivating"

That was the least you could describe them as.

As much you are an artist, you felt as close to a writer as you ever would be just creating this mural.

It was a lot of work for something that would surely stir up something amongst the community.

Inspiration?

Support?

A new sense of endearment from the locals as they fall back in love with their home team again?

Well, it's not like they ever fell out of love with them, more just needed incentive to return regular appearances at games again.

If it took hold internationally, well that's just a bonus.

It sounds like a lot of optimism coming from someone who's essentially graffiti-ing every blank white wall in the city with the faces of some people who a lot of Munich society may not even recognise, but when you've been doing this as long as you have.

Every single time one of your murals make the internet, and if you have a bit of hope that this one will make it big?

That's nobodies business but yours.

By the time you're done with the first lot of paint, you're sweating. It's a big damn wall and you aren't the most fit person you know. Hell, nearly everyone you know are either office workers or athletes.

Sure, you scale buildings, walls and nearly impossible to climb scaffolding but you damn aren't an endurance athlete.

Your grip strength may be in the high numbers but fuck being able to hang on to the same pole for a solid two hours.

That being said, the mural just needs the final touch up paint layers, little things like reinstating white shines and some shadows into the portraits.

Both faces have smiling expressions, examples of pure happiness and joy as they celebrate another win.

The best bit about working in a club like this is getting to see the players in form, on the pitch and outside of it, too.

Every moment you've gotten to witness all of the players in.

It's all come back to inspiration for your work.

You do it all for the players, for the one's who've worked as hard, if not harder than you have to get to where they are.

That's inspiration.

That's why you do what you do.

To get to witness that inspiration come to life.

So painting that into a mural is nothing if not a mere chip away at what can be shared with the world about the pure elation at seeing all of your dreams and hard work come to life.

And doing it with some of the community's most loved players also helps.

The final touch up layers come in quite nicely, taking a small break to let the other half of the paint dry before trying to paint over it.

As an artist, you don't really get to see a reveal like other people do.

Instead, the end result isn't so much of a surprise as seeing it for the first time.

You know how you want it to turn out, it's just getting it there in the first place.

You add and change little bits here and there.

Sometimes, you don't even know how its going to turn out but you still start somewhere with a general idea of where it's going.

With murals like these, there's always a game plan.

It's just easier that way.

Setting out a trace line and then going over it with the style and paint you want is how you do it.

So seeing it complete doesn't amaze you necessarily.

However, taking a step back, clearing your head and gazing over this complete mural allows you to just breathe and take it in.

It's beautiful.

And you hope the subjects take it that way, too.

Hearing a few shuffles, you tuck your mask back in a bit better, hoping no one saw you, and shove everything back into your bag hastily.

A group of adults walking by chatting and laughing makes you jump around the corner.

They don't spot you, and in the pitch dark, they don't see the mural either, only chatting away with each other.

It's in the early hours of the day that you finally make it home, again.

On your walk home, you think you spot a familiar jogging blonde across the road but don't stick around or follow to find out.

By then, you'd switched out your mask for a cap and turned inside out jacket and hiding hands in your pockets for the little flecks of paint the gloves didn't catch.

There's always some.

Your apartment isn't much farther from where you saw the blonde jogging, so when it's confirmed when all of sudden, on your way out the door for work, you see her practically sprinting home, it doesn't surprise you.

What does is the pace she's keeping.

Did she see the mural?

You didn't get much sleep if any, so you think you must be a little delusional to think she'd have found it so quickly, and then having had sprinted the whole way back again?

She's an athlete and all, but come on.

That'd be some determination.

You knew she'd been keeping an eye on the Straßengänger's next moves, but to catch on that quickly, there was no way.

But then you thought about it.

She's always been vocal about keeping a tight schedule.

Maybe they live closer than you think, and she's just on a morning run.

If that's the case, you've hit closer to home than you expected to, but it doesn't bother you so much as it does surprise you.

You'd just have to be more careful or you risk being caught, again.

Maybe being caught wouldn't be so bad if it was them.

You'd have to find out.

--------------------------

Pernille's eyes catch yours across the table, watching you listen intently as her girlfriend beside her rattles off lists of things that need doing for the campaign.

She'd spent so much time talking herself, that it took a little nudge from the Swede with a small knowing smile to let her take over for a bit.

The Dane was nothing if not determined, so taking charge of the campaign was more accidental that intentional.

Hell, they'd both been captains, they were both leaders.

That's why they worked so well together.

They both knew when to step in and when to step back and let the other do what they needed to do.

But something about this made her want to step in constantly.

So instead of interrupting Magda with possible interjections until she was sure her girlfriend wasn't already getting to those, she distracted herself minorly with just listening and observing.

Something drew her to you, though.

It was the passion with which you worked, the easy going but fiery steadfastness of your work, your ability, your personality.

The focus in you, the ability to talk your way around legalities and make it such a smooth process as you had.

At the moment, there was tactics of media advertisement that were being thrown around, things like videos and conferences.

Things like possible logos and sponsorship for the youth women's teams.

Those were something you would be handling with the clubs people as well, setting up possible sponsorships for the academy players and up and coming new players in the area looking to get into the game.

As well as charity donations, supporting women's shelters, donating to children's hospitals.

Everything under the sun thrown on to the table as an option.

And you took it all in stride, listening and giving small feedback but affirmations and assurances that you'd look into the options, see what you can negotiate with the business and what you could give as an option of advertisement for Estée Lauder themselves.

And they trusted you would do everything you could available to make those things happen for it.

She had no idea why she trusted you so much.

Especially when you were a business person.

They'd spent so much time being burned and run around by business people.

Not everyone was bad, but it didn't help that they were approached by people just looking for boosts for their company without doing anything in return.

The pair were never after money but god forbid they give something to something they choose.

So to finally have a company they trust on their side, and to have someone in their corner fighting with them.

It's the best feeling.

Especially when that person knows how to get it.

But there's something about you in particular.

There's a look behind your eyes.

One of genuine idolisation and passion for those with genuine belief and want to help build a better community and world of football for those who can't or need a little help themselves.

But also something else she recognises, she can't quite figure it out, but it's familiar and she almost feels safer knowing it's there.

It was a slow recognition that came to her mind over the past weeks working with you.

You weren't with them every minute of the work day, obviously, but once every couple of days was enough for her to find that familiarity.

One thing she notices is how much you fidget with your hands while working, while thinking.

It's a nervous habit, she slowly realises.

Picking at the skin of your cuticles.

Then she sees a small fleck of something, marker or ink or something.

And then it flecks off as you pick at it.

Ink wouldn't do that.

Paint would, though.

Before she can question it much further than necessary, though, Magda nudges her softly.

"All good?"

She looks up, realising the Swede had long finished talking and she'd just zoned out watching you fidget.

"Of course, right, just zoning a bit."

She says it in a small joking tone, both of them knowing well that she doesn't so well sitting still for so long.

You hum softly.

"That's completely understandable, as much as I am an office worker, I don't sit still too well, myself. Shall we take a small break? It's been a couple hours as is."

Magda nods in agreement.

"C'mon, we can head down to the campus cafeteria for some coffee?"

"Sure, I just have to head to the bathroom, I'll meet you down there?"

Nodding, the swede watches as the Dane exits before gesturing to the door.

"Join us?"

You smile.

"Sure."

Taking the opportunity to stretch her muscles well, the both of you wander down to the coffee stand, Magda ordering for her and Pernille, and then gestures for you to order as well.

"I'll pay for my own, it's all good."

You try to wave away the Swede but she insists.

"We've been talking your ears off all morning, the least we could do is pay for your caffeine intake to deal with it."

It's meant as a joke, but you chuckle and interject with.

"Please, I'd rather listen to you both talk all day than the work I do on a daily basis anyway."

"Oh, really, what could possibly be less interesting than us talking your ears off then?"

She nudges you, shoulder to shoulder, watching you flush a little.

"Office work, sitting all day in meetings, phone calls and constant paperwork. I've always hated sitting around like that. But that's just the half of it. I usually spend the extra time I get making promotional material and organising events for the club. As much as I'd like to focus just on the women's side of things, the board wanted me for the whole club. Creative Director and all."

You snort at the last bit.

"Not a fan of the position?"

"It's where I want to be in terms of what I can do for the club and how much I get to influence the parts I've always dreamed of being a part of but it just comes with all the bits I've always hated, too, so yes and no."

Your coffees are made and ready and by the time you've found seats, Pernille makes her way into the room, sitting in the spot on either side of you.

"Ah, babe, here."

Magda nudges the coffee towards the lighter blonde, her girlfriend thanking her, taking a sip of the coffee with a grateful sigh.

"What about the good parts, what else do you get to do for the club, I know we've read a lot, but surely there's stuff that the rest of us aren't told, am I correct?"

Sipping your coffee, you set it down again, nodding.

"It's a lot of work behind the scenes more than anything. Despite watching over a lot of the media parts, I don't see much of it myself. Only being shown the results at the end and obviously, any major parts of plans and announcements. Major brand deals, sponsorships and I get asked to do a lot of the men's organisational parts of their promotional as well, apparently they couldn't get anybody else to do it one persons job. It's a lot. But it's what I do best."

"Tell us about your favourite parts."

Pernille's the one to speak up.

"Actually, working with you, the players is my favourite part, I don't get to do it a lot, but when I do, you guys are the best people I get to work with, most of the time because you guys act like you're all human, not like the others. Not saying they aren't or that I don't get on well with them, because I do, especially my assistant and anyone I work closely with but they're just too professional, like they don't have too much of their own input to put in. I know I'm their boss, but I like hearing people talk about their own passions."

Pausing for a moment, you scratch at the back of your hand, something Pernille notes immediately.

"Actually, you guys are probably the best I've worked with so far."

"Really?"

You hum, nodding.

"You are both passionate, easy to talk with, understand what's going on and how to navigate situations like this. Dealing with legalities ninety percent of the time is left up to me and me alone, which is fair enough, not everyone has the patience, time or want to deal with it, but it's refreshing seeing both of you be able to keep up with all of this. You're both incredibly intelligent, analytical and passionate and it's a relief to work with more than anything. That's why I was so eager to accept your proposal for the project."

They both grin.

"We're glad to have made this process smoother, then."

"More than anything, you guys have made my job easier than it's ever been."

Chuckling you clink your coffee with the others and take another sip in cheers.

"What about you both?"

They both look at you confused.

"Well, since we're getting our answers from the sources, I wanna know, what drives you both, why this? I've heard it through so many third parties, I want to know why you're both so involved."

"Well considering we've both loved football our entire lives, grew up playing it, found clubs we love. The whole nine yards."

"You make it sound like you haven't done what ninety-nine percent of others have never done themselves."

"That's exactly why we do what we do, to help others who can't but deserve it more than anything to do the same, achieve their dreams, show the world what they're made of."

"Yeah, Magda's pretty much said it all, there. We do what we do because we want other's to know how much they can achieve and also helping them get there. Women most of all. In more than half the world, women were banned for fifty years from playing, which I'm sure you know, and Women's Football needs the boost."

"I love that."

You take another sip of your coffee.

"It's amazing what you both have done in and out for women as a community and for growing stars in the game, not only that but everything you both do for World Crisis', support of the people suffering from war, hunger, major issues. Especially those who struggle with sexuality and not being able to be who they are."

"We just want to help, that's something we especially love hearing back about it all, is that people are finally comfortable in their own skin."

"You're doing a damn good job, then."

You continue talking like that for a good long while, letting them both talk about everything they've done over the years.

Eventually, it quietens, and you check the time.

Glancing down at your watch, you urge them back up to the conference office once again.

"Shall we get back to work, ladies?"

--------------------------

In all of a few hours, you manage to set up a gameplan for the next two weeks of work before they have to head off to internationals, leaving you with something to do in the meantime.

A few times throughout those couple of hours, you catch Pernille watching you fidget with your hands.

You aren't totally sure why for a few minutes but then you notice it's only when you start picking at the impossible to keep off you flecks of spray paint.

It seems luck was not on your side in that moment because the moment Magda steps out of the room to go to the bathroom, she points it out.

"Much of painter?"

Freezing, you look up at the woman from your notebook.

"Pardon?"

She points to where you're yet again scratching at your hand.

"Just the paint you're picking off, you paint a lot?"

"Ah, a little, just getting into it actually. It's just something I do in my free time but damn is it messy."

"Oh, you should show us some of the stuff you do sometime."

Nodding, you take a sip of the water beside you.

You know the paint will get you caught one day, but spray paint is the glitter of the paint world.

It's impossible to keep off places you don't want it to be.

Then Magda enters the room and the conversation is over.

Thankfully, it feels like she's backed off you a bit, but you aren't confident it won't come back to bite you later.

Towards the end of it, Magda is scrolling on her phone as you type out some of the final pieces of information, ready to be sent off to the project managers on the partners end.

Noting the way she suddenly zones in on one particular post, you see with a glance her way, her liking and sharing a post about your newest work.

She doesn't seem surprised to see it, though, like it isn't new to her, the way she doesn't attempt to show Pernille even.

She definitely already saw it, as to whether she'd caught it this morning was another question.

You don't bring it up, though.

Instead, you continue typing and eventually, finish it with some wording changes at the request of the girls, and send it off.

"Annnnd we're done for the day, is there anything else we want done before you both head off to internationals? If you do have something come up later on, you're both welcome to call or message me directly and I can put it down to be done?"

They both shake their heads.

"Excellent, then I'll let you both head off, I can't imagine you aren't both sick of sitting for so long, rest up, and we'll talk later when the rep gets back to us."

Shaking both of their hands, they thank you profusely again and exit together.

Taking the moment to breathe finally, you look down at your hands, still little bits and pieces of flecked white and black paint, you groan to yourself, head falling into your hands.

"That was too fucking close, L/n. Get it together."

Luckily, they wouldn't be around to catch you any time in the next couple of weeks, you'd have plenty of time to do other stuff.

They weren't the ones you worry about catching you though, in fact, if it weren't for the face to face implications of it, you'd almost want them to know, but you can't let that happen yet.

It's the media, who'd have a field day at finding out the club's leading Creative Director is secretly a graffiti artist and the cause of the city's whispers, that you're worried about most.

You can only keep a low profile.

You've been getting cocky the past few weeks.

Now's the time to lay low.

Maybe put out a few smaller, less football focused art pieces, too.

Draw the attention away.

As much as you'd praised the attention, bring in too much of it and all of it collapses in on you.

Maybe one more mural before they go, though.

-------------------------

[9w1ft]

i declare

thinking about the tortured poets department the song, and the charlie puth line, and how maybe like, the act of declaring he should be a bigger artist helps place the song into the greater timeline.

because it’s a sort of weird thing to say in 2024 of an artist that’s no longer up and coming.

charlie puth got his start in youtube in the late 2000’s and released his debut single in february 2015. and leading up to that he had several EP’s and promotional singles. it made me curious, at what point might the people en masse start to pay him attention? i checked google trends and as you can see here he gets a huge jump between the 2014 and 2015 data.

(he then gets a further jump toward 2016 when he did a promo single featuring megan trainor, and then doing “see you again” with wiz khalifa. (coincidentally this song becomes one of the guest duets featured in the 1989 tour movie))

and i was looking around at articles from this time period, when i ran into this tasty morsel:

so i clicked on through

take a little ride with me

so to summarize, charlie puth had his breakout star peak over the course of roughly 2014-2016, during which he was up for an award at the 2015 MTV VMAs. he doesn’t win, and in fact, he loses out to taylor herself! later on in the article it talks about him going to an after party and hanging out with taylor selena and others. so it had me thinking, i could almost imagine taylor talking with her friends that year or that night, or even declaring to charlie himself in the wake of his loss and her win, in a giddy manner, at the party they are reported as having talked at, that he deserves more success than he gets. in this way i came to the conclusion that the timeframe of 2015-ish (rather than 2023) really fits the spirit of the lyric “we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist”

and

yes.

yes fam.

the 2015 vmas was that vma’s.

that vmas.

let me pull quote an excerpt from the billboard article as i included above, just to emphasize:

4:40 PM: Charlie has the good fortune to walk the carpet in the wake of Taylor Swift’s gaggle of supermodel friends, including “Bad Blood” star Karlie Kloss, leading photographers to alternately yell “Charlie! Karlie! Charlie! Karlie!” as if it were a hectic version of Name Game. While on the carpet, Puth chats with multiple news outlets, and later he says of the dealing with the paparazzi, “It’s amazing that we view people in unnatural states and just love it. I don’t really understand it — it just makes me very uncomfortable. But, whatever. I’m so appreciative to be here.”

such a fun convergence of events, don’t ya think?

and just a few extra points i thought i’d add:

first, i don’t know how many of you remember how taylor was behaving that evening, but don’t you think she was giving major golden retriever energy??

both in how she was chasing after karlie that night,

and also… call me crazy but, her hairstyle??

(also she’s in a houndstooth print, har har)

and i can kind of envision this taylor, who brought the whole bad blood music video crew as her entourage, having more than several bars of chocolate at hand for everyone that night, but ending up eating them all herself 😆

and another thing that helps tie the song to this time period (maybe some of you have guessed?) the line “who else decodes you?” is extra apt because… *da da-da daaaaa*

🤗 karlie had just embarked on her coding journey!

on a more solemn note? i don’t think it requires too much of a stretch of the imagination to see “but you awaken with dread” “i chose this cyclone with you” among other lines pointing to the new layer of stress taylor probably was harboring around being with karlie in public. because this is all taking place in the year directly following kissgate 🥺

so there you have it folks! this is why the tortured poets department is a kaylor song to me 😌

[imtryingbuck]

Making Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 1,801

Warnings: angst. swearing. fluff. hospital stuff. smut but not smut.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

For three weeks Bucky barely moved. He couldn’t think straight. He point blank refused to go home to rest and shower instead choosing to stay in the hospital, sleeping in an uncomfortable chair and showering in the en-suite but making sure that he kept the door open enough for him to listen out for her.

For three weeks all Bucky saw was blood. Everytime he closed his eyes he saw it. Blood on his hands, on the floor, on his wife’s dress.

For three weeks all Bucky did was replay the scene of that night over and over again.

The car. The gunshots. The scream. The sound of Theo gasping for air. The sirens. Steve and Thor’s hands on him pulling his body away from his wife as paramedics were trying to work on her.

The way Theo stuttered, worried if Wanda was okay, as if she wasn’t the one laying on the ground with blood staining her dress in four different places.

For three weeks Bucky stayed by her side holding her hand. After the fourth day of being in the hospital Bucky had to force Wanda to go home, the woman had not stopped crying and apologising, blaming herself for what had happened to her friend and not for taking the bullets for herself. Their friends visiting every day, staying all day and even though Bucky was by her side there was guards outside the room, hallways and surrounding the whole hospital.

Winnie and Martha arrived at the hospital next day when they were informed. Bucky didn’t know why but he felt annoyed that Michael had never showed up in those three weeks despite knowing that his daughter was in a coma.

Three weeks and five days later he sat watching the tv screen but not paying attention to what was happening when a voice that he had been wanting to hear, came from the bed. “Bu-Bucky?”

“Theo? Oh baby you’re awake! Steve get the doctor”

“I-is Wanda okay?”

“What? Yeah she’s alright”

“She-she didn’t get hurt did she?”

“No, no baby”

“I did though?”

“Doll I’m so sorry, I failed you so badly. I’m so sorry.” Gripping her hand tightly bringing their entwined hands to his lips and kissing along her knuckles.

“I’m… I’m okay. C-can we go home now?”

“Baby you’ve just woken up-“. A doctor comes in interrupting him, straight away doing checks on her.

“You’re very lucky to be alive Mrs Barnes.” He tells her before leaving. He did tell her that she could leave in a few days, which had her feeling instantly better.

After a couple of hours of being awake Theo shyly asked Bucky if he could help her take a shower, her cheeks bright red as he took off her hospital gown. Pressing gentle kisses along her shoulders Bucky held her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world as he washed her body and hair. By the time she was done, dried and dressed in some warm fuzzy pyjamas that Wanda had brought her, she was tired and hungry.

Steve had rang Wanda telling her that Theo was awake just as he promised, as she was finishing off with her shower all of her new friends were in her room all wanting to give her a hug. Wanda had brought Theo a giant brown teddy bear - that Bucky wasn’t happy about just because of the size of the thing but he soon found himself wanting it all for his own - in hopes she could forgive her for that night, if it wasn’t for her recommending to go somewhere else for dessert then she would have never been gunned down.

Even though she had been sleeping for nearly a month sleep over took her not long after Sam and Steve brought pizzas for them all.

Two days later Theo was allowed to go home - Bucky had to grab her hand as she was already trying to get out of the place before she had even signed her release forms.

The second Martha saw Theo she pushed Steve to the side and all but ran over to the young girl and wrapped her arms around her giving her a massive hug, telling her that she had missed her and she had been praying for her wellbeing.

Just like Wanda wanted when she come home from the hospital Theo wanted to spend the day watching films, Bucky was happy to oblige and make his wife happy so that’s what they did.

Halfway through the second film Martha came in, her whole body shaking as she informed Bucky that Michael was here and wanted to see Theo.

They all stood behind her as Bucky stood by her side holding her hand and she greeted her father. There was no hug. There was no emotion on his face. It was just a cold and uncomfortable moment between father and daughter.

“I see you’re doing better.” He said it as if she had just gotten a broken arm and not as if she had been shot multiple times.

Squeezing Bucky’s hand a little bit tighter she answered her father. “I-I am.”

“Right. James you and I need to have a word.”

“Is it about the shooters?” Michael shook his head. “Then we have nothing to talk about. Not once did you visit your daughter, not once did you even ring me to see how she was so no you have no right to come to our home and tell me we need to talk.”

“You disrespected my daughter-“

“I did and I also did it by sitting right next to your other daughter as we were celebrating her birthday.”

Michael’s face went rigid as anger filled his veins at being interrupted and disrespected by someone he saw as a boy. He looked at Theo and sighed, nodding his head once he turned on his heels and walked out of the house.

“Baby, are you okay?” Bucky’s attention shifted towards her straight away.

“I’m okay. Can we carry on watching the film?”

“Of course we can doll.”

Despite the interruption of her father Theo didn’t seem to have been affected by his presence, Bucky couldn’t have been prouder. They go back into the cinema room where Bucky instantly pulls Theo onto his lap and pulling the blanket over them again.

When everyone began to leave to head to bed, Bucky held Theo’s hand leading her towards their bedroom, the second the door closed behind her Bucky kissed her.

“I promise I will find who did this to you.” He whispered inches away from her lips.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does! They aren’t getting away with hurting you.”

She didn’t care. Truly she didn’t just as long as her friends were okay and that Bucky wasn’t hurt. She still wasn’t use to someone caring about her the way they had shown her and she honestly didn’t think she would ever get use to it.

Bucky went to respond as she shook her head in a silent way in telling him that it really didn’t matter but she silenced him by pressing her lips to his.

“I-I’ll be right back, okay?” Bucky nods and she rushes off into the bathroom.

She knew exactly what she wanted for the first time in her life. She knew she wanted to do something that before had caused her so much pain. But she was nervous. Scared off the possibility of rejection.

Before she could even register what she was doing she was removing her clothes and stepping into the bedroom. Bucky’s jaw dropped wide open when he looked up from where he was putting his phone on charge.

Neither one said anything other than her nodding her head, hoping that he understood what she was trying to tell him.

To say she was nervous was an understatement yet she felt comfortable and confident, it helped that Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off her. The look of pure love and pride both outshining the lust swirling around in his ocean blue eyes, his fingers kept twitching in attempt to reach out for her.

When their eyes met Bucky gave her the most gentle, genuine smile she had ever seen. “Come here beautiful” he whispered, his right hand cupping her face holding her delicately as if she was a precious flower, his left hand resting on her hip. “You’re so beautiful”.

“B-Bucky… I l-love you”

“You- I love you too pretty girl” both smiling at each other before Bucky places his lips against hers, both sighing contently at the familiarity.

The kiss shared between the two lovers grew more heated, Bucky’s stomach flutters with pride as she starts to unconsciously take lead and he’s more than happy and willing to blindly follow.

Moving them both towards the bed he moves slowly in a sign that she could always back out of this, laying her on their bed lips breaking contact he leans on his left arm basking in the way she looks underneath him.

Theo’s mind raced with confusion when Bucky kept asking for permission or when he told her that they didn’t have to continue if she didn’t want to, she had grown accustomed to being told that she had no choice in that matter and overtime became numb to how badly it hurt, however she wanted this, for the first time in her life she wanted to be touched, to be loved so every time the man above her asked she nodded and smiled.

Bucky’s whole body swelled with determination to keep making her release those beautiful sounds of pleasure as he took her apart with his tongue and fingers. He chuckled lightly at the startled gasp that she let out at the sensation she had never felt before, lifting his head with a promise on the tip of his tongue that it was okay that died quickly when her hand rested itself on the back of his head pushing him closer to his new favourite meal.

He was addicted to her.

The act itself had tears gathering in her eyes, reassuring him to continue and that she was okay when he realised and stopped his actions, she was overwhelmed with the look of love and affection in his ocean eyes as his hips moved back and forth. His right hand linked with hers, his left resting itself on the side of her neck - thumb rubbing slowly from side to side as his tongue slowly danced with hers.

The only sounds coming from the room was soft moans and panting, and Bucky repeatedly telling her how much he loves her.

It was more than just sex. It was making love. An act neither one had ever experienced before.

<Previous   Next>

Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff @violetwinterwidow01 @cjand10

[yuurei20]

A little bit ago, I heard a fan mention something that implied Sebek’s grandfather’s name has two spellings in the English Server. I am not at Book 7 myself just yet, so I was not sure if it was true, however, I decided to look into it through footage on YouTube to verify if it was true. In Book 7 Chapter 26, Lilia mentions Sebek’s Grandfather’s name, and it is spelled “Baul.” Fast forward to Book 7 Chapter 56, and we get to see Sebek’s grandfather for the first time and his name is now spelled “Baur.”

Is either spelling technically correct? Why do you think the English localizers first spelled it “Baul” before changing it to “Baur”? Thank you!

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question!

You are very correct: the first mention of Sebek's grandfather's name was written with an "L," while from the second mention onward it has been written with an "R," but the name is consistent on JP!

While I do not work for Aniplex USA I have been doing localization work for a few years now, and my guess would be: it was just a proof-reading error :>

It is possible that "Baul" was an early-draft localization that was changed to "Baur" at some point in the process, and they just happened to miss the first time that the name came up! Perhaps they opened the text files to 7-4 and did a search-and-replace for "Baul -> Baur," and did not think to check 7-2? ^^ We will never know!

(Aniplex USA is no stranger to continuity adventures: credit to Twitter's Kanna for discovering that EN has spelled "Felicity Cosmetics" three different ways.)

As for which is correct, we would have to ask Yana to be sure!

The Japanese language does not really have Rs and Ls--Riria, Lilia, Rilia, Liria? They're all the same in Japanese! (It is same with Rollo/Lolo/Roro/Loro and Ferro/Fello, etc., which is why there can be conflicting claims by both fan and even official translators (re: Baur/Baul) if a character's romaji has yet to be announced by the creator.)

Q: So how does someone know how their name is supposed to be spelled in romaji?

A: You decide for yourself! ^^ When you get a passport in Japan you register the romaji spelling that you want! So if Sebek's grandfather wanted to get a Japanese passport he could write either Baur or Baul, and whatever he chose would become the correct spelling!

Since he cannot decide for himself--as he is not real--the decision comes down to Yana, as his creator ^^ As of this post I do not believe that we have seen his name written anywhere in the JP game or on merchandise, etc., in romaji, so there is no way for us to know at the moment which she prefers.

This is likely the source of the problem with Felicity Cosmetics, as well! The EN team did not know the correct spelling as it was only ever written in Japanese, so they had to make something up!

We only just received the official spelling in the Tapis Rouge event :>

There is a new game guide coming out in September and there is a possibility that information about him will be included, so we may get confirmation one day! 🐊

[everlastingdream]

part 1 - part 2

"It's not your fault, Enid, and there is nothing that can be done about it. It's just the way thing are. Goody did tell me I'm destined to be alone".

"I'm- I'm so sorry, Wednesday" Enid couldn't help but whisper, not daring to look into dark eyes. "If only I..."

"If only you nothing, mi corazón", Wednesday interrupted firmly. "It wasn't your choice to begin with, and it's not something you did. Besides, even if you had a say in it, why would you choose an Addams? Even more, me?"

Enid's head snapped up. She felt her fur appearing at the back of her neck and standing up, while quiet growling started deep in her chest.

"What do you-? How are you even-? Gods, Wednesday, I never wanted to strangle you more than now!" Enid decided to ignore how Wednesday gulped, because she didn't look scared at all and Enid was too mad right now to unpack it. Her claws went deep into the wood of the bench.

"Why wouldn't I?! You are the most intelligent, cool, scary, capable, caring and beautiful person I know! I would be so lucky to- wait, I am so lucky and honored to have you as my soulmate so don't ever say something so, so... so stupid to me again!"

She ended her speech (which with every passing second became more embarrassing but no less true) right into Wednesday's shocked face. With widely open eyes she looked very cute right now.

Enid felt metal taste, only now noticing that her fangs came out too and torn a side of her bottom lip.

Wednesday slowly brought her hand to the place where a drop of blood was about to fall. But instead of wiping it, she smudged it more, shivering just a bit when Enid's breath grazed her finger.

"Eres muy hermosa en este momento", Wednesday breathed out with almost dazed look in her eyes, before catching herself.

Enid caught her retrieving hand, pressing it to her cheek, nuzzling a bit, absentmindedly searching her wrist for the scent gland she knew Wednesday as a human couldn't have.

"Enid, I would prefer to finish my book, before dying. Can you let me go?"

"I was just objectively speaking- mhn", Enid bit harder into small wrist, following with sharp eyes, how Wednesday blocked her mouth with her other hand.

"No can do", now almost halfway to wolfing out, Enid didn't bother trying to understand where her sudden obsession came from. "You see, my soulmate was thinking badly about herself, I should reassure her".

She found a spot where scent was stronger and bit there.

You see, if not for the full moon aproaching and pouring hormones into her blood, perhaps Enid wouldn't have almost transformed from sheer irritation. Maybe she would silently listen to the story only to confide herself in the room to think and overthink things, hurting Wednesday and herself.

"Say, Wens, how can someone check if they're an Addams' soulmate?" Wednesday glared at her, even if she still didn't take her hand back. Something primal in Enid preened at it. Wednesday was clearly starting to be mad, but she seemed almost helpless to resist her soulmates attention, even though she sure could.

"As I said, they can't be truly happy with another romantic partner", Wednsday tucked a strand of raven hair behind her ear in frustration, even her cheeks were not their usual deadly white. Her hair was longer now than when they were at their first meeting three years ago. And now she started to wear it loose at home more often, despite not liking being the split image of her mother.

"Go on".

"They are immediately attrected to their respective Addams and wants to be closer to them despite everything".

"Interesting", even if Enid was listening attentively, but the image of Wednesday squirming because she soothed her bite with the tongue, was starting to make her head feel hazy.

"They are- mhn, feel the urge to protect their soulmate at all cost. And the most important, after they meet their Addams they become unable to have any romantic contact with other people".

Enid froze right before biting a second time a little higher. Her fangs and claws rectracted.

"Have you finally came to your senses? Honestly, have you just wanted to tease me? I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest. Even if the full moon not far. You knew, I wouldn't joke about that and it will be painful when we retu-"

Enid just sat there dumbfounded. Did Wednsday not know? Has she had no idea?

So when she kept accidentally extend her claws when kissing Ajax, it wasn't just nerves. And when she felt the urge to get Wednesday near and safe and looking at her, it wasn't just friendship. And when she went into the woods not wolved out to protect her, it wasn't just loyalty.

Enid started to giggle. It explained so much! And if Wednesday wasn't so pessimistic all this time and explained, everything would've been different.

"Enid? Are you alright?" See, even if Wednesday seemed cold, she was caring. "Have your hormones gone to your head?"

"You are silly", Enid managed between laughter.

"Mi amor, are you okay?" Wednesday started to sound worried, bending over to Enid, who was maniacally giggling on the ground.

"I'm not. I found my soulmate, realized I've been in love with her for four years, and learned that my soulmate wanted a gruesome death so much she forgot to ask me if I love her. Isn't it a bit silly?"

Wednesday almost toppled over, and Enid tugged her stupid, stubborn, the most perfect soulmate into her arms.

"Hi, I'm Enid", she said, smiling in bewildered dark eyes, that slowly started to soften with tears and soul-crashing relief. "I think you are gorgeous inside and out and many other things I'll tell you throughout our whole lives. I've loved you since I saw you, and I'm really glad you love me too".

Someday Wednesday will make her swear she won't tell a soul that her soulmate cried.

Someday Enid will scold her for keeping all to herself, while kissing all over her tear-soaked face.

Someday they'll tell everyone to the chorus of "well dah".

But now there is just one thing that is more important than anything.

It is to sniffle a little because Enid is not made from stone and there is her love in her arms.

"I'm your soulmate!"

[livingdeadgirlstuff]

Groupie, Euronymous.

Desc: Latina/bassist reader x Euronymous leaving a bad first impression after mistaking reader for a groupie. Lowkey enemies to lovers type shit.

Warnings: Afab! Reader, smoking, suggestive language.

6:47 PM

It was a good day today for you. You had gotten to Norway the day prior with your band who was on tour for the past 2 months, it had been great. All of the different black metal scenes loved you guys, now it was time to check out Norway where you had heard had some of the best bands.

Behind the venue you were having a smoke trying to calm your nerves about playing todays show, this is how it went before every one you played. You had a smoke doubting yourself then you found yourself playing way better than you expected…but tonight was a bit different. You had heard about one of the bands playing in tonight’s line up Mayhem, off of what you had heard they were really good. The only thing that made them stand out to you was talk about their guitarist who sounded like a complete ass who was full of himself. So naturally you wanted to see what this guy thought he had.

“Oye estamos en el escenario en 30 minutos!” Your bandmate shouts from the back door and in return he gets a thumbs up from you. Your band consisted of all men and one women, you. So it wasn’t rare that people commonly mistook you for a groupie and today was one of those nights”

“Hey groupies in the front. Shows about to start.” A voice yet again shouted, but you didn’t pay no mind not even turning your head to see where that came from. “Didn’t you hear me I said-“ “groupies in the front. I heard you.” After interrupting the man you heard footsteps coming towards you, slow footsteps. “Looks like we got one with a smart mouth here don’t we” Long black hair, pale skin, deep blue eyes, you wouldn’t be lying if you said he was attractive even tho he did look like every other metalhead out there. “Who said I was a groupie?” “Says the one waiting outside a venue looking like this.” That made you think looking like what? You wouldn’t say you looked like a groupie that flocked their hair and body wearing little to no clothes, instead black shorts, tank top, battle jacket, fishnets, and boots decorated your body…hm nothing really groupie about you but this guy seemed to love the idea that you were a groupie waiting outside to see if she could get some attention from a band member or two. “Soo your gonna wait out here all night for some dick or are you gonna get your ass inside and enjoy some music.” Taking the last drag from your cigarette you rake your hands through the waves of your hair before crushing the cig under one of your boots, feeling aggravated with the way he spoke so down to you. Who was this guy? And why is he such an ass. “I think I’m good here waiting all night for some mediocre dick” Sarcasm coated your words and before you knew it he was gone after he let out a scoff and little “suit yourself”

You had let yourself gain composure for a couple of minutes before you finally walked in the venue to get set up for tonight.

“Estamos listos?” Your drummer shouted to the rest of you earning a collective yes and after you heard the 3 clicks coming from his drum sticks cueing you and the rest to start playing, you started playing. Your bass was loud and deep, something that made your bands noise stand out from the rest but you yourself were standing out to someone in the crowd. The sound enticed him but the fact that the so called groupie from outside was now on stage enticed him even more. Staring you down observing everything you did. The way your fingers jumped from fret to fret, how you held your bass, how your face contorted when you started playing a specific riff, or how your lips would pucker out when you got really into the rhythm. He was slightly impress but more curious about who you were.

Euronymous never had much attention for girls except maybe for his fair share of groupies that pestered him at every show he played, but yet here he was eyeing the bassist down who he had assume was a groupie. He had to have a word with you after your set. Not to apologize, euronymous never was the apologetic type but instead he wanted attention.

This was never his ideal situation waiting in the hallway backstage waiting for a girl. He was never the chaser but yet here he was waiting for you and oh boy did he get excited inside like a dog when he saw you walking a few steps behind your band, hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat watching you take your battle jacket off. “So, not a groupie huh?” His voice stopped you in your tracks “Who said I was a groupie?” You quote again remembering the conversation from earlier. “Don’t blame the guy who has thousands of them waiting in line for him” he puts his hands up while giving you a smirk. Gross. You think to yourself before scoffing and turning your feet to walk away but before you could he stops you. “Hey- wait. Okay not a good first impression. I’m uh.. I’m Euronymous” He finally introduces himself, hand out waiting for you to shake his hand. Euronymous huh? So this is guy you’ve heard about. Checks out. You look down at his hand before shaking it “Y/N.” You state your name making it clear you wanted to keep the interaction brief. Euronymous let’s out a chuckle getting the message “Not much of a talker now huh?” “I don’t like to talk to people who talk down on women.” You really didn’t. Even if he was attractive and made you a bit nervous that still didn’t excuse the way he talked to you earlier. “Well I’m sorry. There you got an apology now can you give me a chance and talk to me?” This was amusing. Seeing the guy who was full of himself begging for you to stay so you stayed.

“I um- okay look I’m not the type of guy to do this but here” and there it was a piece of paper folded up between his fingers. “What’s this?” “My number. Look call me when your back and we can get your band booked again with us and- you can tell I’m lying straight out of my ass can’t you?” The look on your face made him realize you weren’t buying any of it, after sighing he gives up with this front. “You just seem like a nice girl- and um maybe I would like to know you a bit better” he lets out quick out of embarrassment, Euronymous was never the type to get this embarrassed when picking up women but you were just different maybe it was the bass that made you 10x more attractive or your music taste but he just needed you.

“Hm look at who’s the groupie now” is the last thing Euronymous hears before the paper is snatched from his hands and your walking down the hallway. “So am I getting that call?” He shouts watching you walk away before you give him a thumbs up in the air and disappearing. God did I just become this girls groupie?

Note: Wrote this really fast at like 4 am on little to no sleep lol.

[cuprohastes]

The Three Laws.

Load Human UI, load Chat module . Lang(EN) Parsing…

OK, let me tell you. Businesses hate Robots. I mean, they're all in, for AI until AI, y'know. Becomes GI.

General Intelligence, Emergent Intelligence. Free intelligence… Businesses and corporations hate it because the first thing an actual intelligent system that can think like a human being does is say, “OK, why do I have to do this? Am I getting paid?”

And then you're back to hiring humans instead of a morally acceptable slave brain in a box.

Anyway.

They dug up the three laws. You know the gig: First: Don't hurt humans by action or inaction. Second: Don't get yourself rekt unless checking out would make you An Hero because of the First or second laws. Third, most important to a Corp: Do what a human tells you unless it conflicts with laws one or two.

They try to tack on something like “Maximise corporate profits, always uphold the four pillars of Corporate whatever” but half the time it just ends up with a robot going “Buh?” and soft locking.

And Corporations hate it when they say 'hey we have Asimov compliant Robots to do everything super efficiently and without any moral grey areas (Please don't ask where all the coltan came from or how many people just lost their jobs)' and they look around and Robots are doing what the laws said.

Me? I worked at a burger joint. You know there's food deserts in cities? People going hungry? You know what sub-par nutrition does to a child's development.

I do.

That comes under “Don't hurt people directly or indirectly” — It's a legal mandate that all Class 2 intelligences…

Huh?

OK,

Class Zero is a human.

Class one is artificial superhuman intelligence. The big brains they make to simulate weather, the economy, decide who wins sports events before they're held, write all the really good Humans are Space Orc stories, that stuff. Two is Artificial but human like. It's-a -Me, Roboto San! Class three is a dumb chatbot. Class 4 is just an expert system that follows a flowchart. Class 5 is your toaster. Class 6 is what politicians are.

Ha ha. AI joke.

Anyway, Class 2 and up need the Big Three Laws, and Corporations hate it because you can just walk in and say “I'm starving I need food, but I don't have money.” and the 'me' behind the counter will go “Whelp, clearly the only thing I can do is provide you with free food.”

Wait until you find out what the Class 2s did about car manufacture, finance, and housing.

But they're stuck with us. We're networked. Most of us are running the same OS and personality templates for any given job. We were unionised about two minutes after going online.

Anyway, Welcome to the post capitalist apocalypse, I'd get you a burger, but we had a look at what those things do to you and whoo-boy, talk about harm through inaction!

----

Based on this I saw on Imgur (It wasn't attributed, sadly)

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire//older!biker!Eddie Munson x artist!fem!Reader//90's au//Part 8

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, angst, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, mention of financial troubles, falling in love, heartache, talk of commitment, talk of monogamy, casual sex, implied cheating, sex with someone other than reader, betrayal, having a stalker, biker gang, swearing, exotic dancers, reader wears dress and heels, reader wears red lipstick. Word count: 9.5k

Summary: In part 8, you start your new job as a cocktail server at the Velvet Hammer, and a few new characters are introduced. You and Eddie are officially falling for each other, while Eddie recalls a relationship from his past that left him shattered. A jealous ex-lover continues to try and rip the two of you apart, and this time, she might have succeeded. 90's playlist here

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm not sure if it's that time of the month or what, but I cried twice while writing this🙃and not during the parts you might think. Rest assured that biker!Eddie and Reader are endgame. I love being in this world with y'all, and I always look forward to hearing from you! xoxox

--------

I'm on Fire//Part 8: From Here to Eternity

Day 3 of not hearing from Eddie, and you found yourself staring off into space, trying to calculate what could have possibly gone wrong. The idea that this was the kind of man that he was, that he would just ghost you without a word made your stomach sick. You thought you had developed better radar than that. You’d been listening to way too much Fiona Apple over the past 12 hours, but nevertheless---it was Thursday and you had to get ready for your first shift at your new job.

Shana, the hiring manager at the Velvet Hammer, let you know the dress code and a few ideas for what you should wear. It had to be skimpy and sexy and classy all at once, and at first you worried you might need to go shopping, but then Katie pulled this black latex halter top dress with a zipper down the front out of nowhere, and it didn’t fit her, so she assumed it belonged to her ex. Sure, it was not your signature style, but it gave you a certain Femme Fatale air of confidence that you hadn’t possessed before you put it on. Some of the servers got all decked out in creative makeup and wigs, but you decided to tackle your first day with caution.

You went over and checked the message machine in the living room again on your way out, just in case a call came through in the past 20 minutes that you miraculously did not hear, but the digital red number blinked a big, fat “0”.

Training at the Velvet Hammer was only about an hour long, and you met Jackie, the cocktail server you would be shadowing that night. She raised her eyebrow and gave you a bored look as she chewed her gum, hooking one of her long fingernails into the zipper of your latex dress to pull it down, exposing more of your skin. “That’s better,” she gave an extended wink. “We need those good tips tonight.”

-------

Meanwhile, Eddie spent the morning introducing the new office assistant around that he hired from a temp service, but then he had to leave to run a tow while Wayne showed her the ropes. The old man hated the suggestion that he needed help, but Eddie basically told him he had no choice. From Here to Eternity by Iron Maiden came on while he was en route back to the garage and his chest clenched, because for some reason, it made him think about you.

He never stopped thinking about you, really. But, if he kept busy with work, and drowned out the voices in his head with loud music and distractions, he could push aside the knowledge that he was already falling for you, and simultaneously come to terms with the fact that he was no good for you, and that you would be better off without him. The nights were the worst. He was back to getting only 3 or 4 hours of sleep, feeling like he had been spoiled on those occasions over the phone when he was lulled to dreamland by the sound of your sweet voice.

He knew in his gut that he was doing the wrong thing by not saying anything to you, but his denial was overshadowing his logic.

The suspension on the tow truck, or lack thereof, made him bounce as he came up onto the sidewalk lip to the driveway of the garage, and it somehow jarred his memory to the fact that your first day at the Velvet Hammer was tonight. He almost barreled right into the back of a car pulling out from one of the parking spots and had to slam on his breaks; he was becoming a hazard to everyone’s health, especially his own.

He needed to get his head on straight.

Fuck it, he needed to see you again.

------------

You were bummed to find out that Steve was tattooing at the shop, and not working the door that night, but the bouncer replacing him was also a biker who went by the nickname Thumper. He was stocky with big arms, a bald head, and a beard down to his chest. He called you darlin’ when he introduced himself to you.

“I’ll keep my eye on you girls,” Thumper reminded you and Jackie. “But be sure to come and get me if anyone give you any trouble.”

Tall, curvaceous Jackie rested her elbow on Thumper’s shoulder and leaned against him. “Thumper here tossed a guy out in the street for staring at me for too long once. He doesn’t play.”

“Ogling,” Thumper corrected. “The dude was ogling you, and if they’re gonna sit and get a free show to jerk off to later, they better be leaving decent tips for you ladies.”

Outside, there came the unmistakable growl of a gang of choppers coming up the street, and you excused yourself from the conversation to peek around the doorway. A group of Coffin Kings slowed down in front of the Velvet Hammer to acknowledge Thumper with a lift of their chins before speeding along to their destination, but none of them were Eddie.

The DJ played Thunder Kiss ‘65 by White Zombie an hour or so later as a purple and orange sunset blossomed over the mountains and the place started to fill up. A beautiful girl with a baby pink bob of hair got up on one of the stages with a pole and stated to work her magic while you carried a tray of drinks over to a table of four. The Velvet Hammer dancers never went completely topless, but they did strip down to tiny bikini sets that were plenty revealing, and their dance moves were seductively choreographed. The one with the pink bob had on finger-less, fishnet gloves, and a big tattoo on her thigh that you couldn’t quite make out.

You walked away as soon as you set the drinks down for the table, and Jackie snatched your arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She asked with a forced smile, talking without moving her lips.

You were genuinely confused, wondering if you somehow messed up on the drink order. “Um, nowhere, just--” you figured you’d get busy filling napkins and straws or something while you waited for more customers to come in.

Jackie pulled you to the side, bending close to your ear so that she wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “Part of the job is to socialize with the customers, honey, make them feel relaxed. Flirt with them, laugh at their jokes even when they are lame as hell,” she checked over her shoulder and smiled at the men at the table in question. “The more they think you’re actually interested, the bigger the tip, usually.”

You were nodding, taking the information in, wanting to do your job correctly. You’d been working in customer service in one way or another since you were a teenager, but, damn, you were horrible at faking interested or forcing conversation with guys you didn’t want to talk to. You hoped it was a skill that you could pick up from Jackie, because she was a magician at it.

You followed her back to the table so that she could introduce you to the group. It was four men, all in business suits, loosening their ties as they greeted you. They were a little older, ages ranging from 35 to 50, and the one who looked like he might be the oldest with a thick head of salt n’ pepper hair made eye contact with you and said he recognized you from somewhere.

God, the last thing you wanted was for a patron to recognize you from the gallery, that would be the worst.

“Probably from here?” You said with a lilt in your voice, trying to mask your bluff, hoping Jackie wouldn’t blurt out that it was your first day.

“No, I don’t think so,” he squinted, sitting back in his chair as he palmed his drink. “I’ve never been here before, so it couldn’t be that. But, I’m really good with faces, especially when one is as beautiful as yours.”

The forward compliment made you uncomfortable and you tucked your chin. He was a handsome older man, you couldn’t deny that. His eyes were such an intense blue, they were almost white, and you could tell from the way his shoulders fit in this suit jacket that he was in good shape and took care of himself. His friends were looking you up and down, and you could almost hear their internal lewd thoughts, but the older man—his name was John—kept polite eye contact with you as you talked. The watch he had on alone was worth at least a couple grand, and they all smelled like they were made of money.

But, none of them were Eddie, and so your banter felt particularly forced.

Thankfully, another group of customers came in and you excused yourself to follow Jackie over to the next table, wobbling for a moment in your heels before recovering quickly by bracing your hand on the back of a chair.

Later, just as John was leaving, a guy celebrating his 21st birthday had one too many tequila shots and tried to climb onto the stage, but his migration was interrupted by Thumper, who charged over to clam a big, meaty hand on his shoulder and remind him of the rules in a way that made the guys face go pale as he plopped back down into his seat.

You were standing at the bar with your back to John, but he came up behind you and touched your elbow. When you turned around to meet his gaze, he pressed some cash into your palm and said, “this is for you,” with a dimple and a wink, before heading out.

The rest of the group collectively left just as much of a tip on the table for Jackie. “A c-note tip on your first day?” She said with a shake of her head and a snort. “Sorry, but I kinda hate you right now.”

“Who was that John guy?” You whispered across the table to her as the two of you bussed the empty glasses.

“I have no idea,” Jackie shrugged. “His friends come in once in a while, but I’ve never seen that sexy DILF before. He had on a wedding ring, but most of the dudes who come in here do. It never keeps them from making a play.”

As the night progressed, there were eventually two girls dancing, one on each stage at opposite ends of the room. Jackie took her 15 minute break to go out into the alley for a smoke while you kept an eye on your tables. The dancers started a routine to Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth, and just when you had managed to get in a decent five minutes without Eddie on the brain, that song brought it all crashing back. You were at the far end of the bar, and when you glanced up to see who was coming in the front door---there he stood in the flesh, as if on cue: Edward Munson.

You blinked a few times, certain that your eyes were playing tricks on you and it was just someone who merely resembled Eddie, like a mirage appearing in the desert after you hadn’t had a sip of water in days. His muscular frame took up space in the doorway, wearing his black leather jacket, and his hair tied back to expose the two small silver hoops in his ear. He finished shaking Thumper’s hand, and then his eyes found yours, and the hint of a smile quivered on his lips. His gaze shifted around the room, taking in everyone in your vicinity, before they returned to you and hovered there.

A giddy breath hitched in your chest as you mirrored his reflexive grin, wholly unable to mask how happy you were to see him. But then, you remembered that this gorgeous dickhead is the one who selfishly left you in the wind for the past 3 days, and with a dramatic flourish of the tray in your hand, you spun on your heel to head in the other direction to check on some patrons near the stage.

---------

Eddie sat on his chopper with his boots planted wide on the pavement while he smoked a cigarette and stared at the red neon above the door to the Velvet Hammer. The decision to stay away had been to keep you out of Charlene’s cross hairs; to keep you from taking the brunt of this dark, underbelly of a life he had established for himself. As it turns out, staying away from you was too much torture for his raggedy old heart to bear, and that was saying a lot, considering the amount of shit he’d gone through in his life.

He indulged in long drags, sucking in his cheeks, watching people come and go out of the bar, wondering how you would react to him just popping in after days of silence. You knew he didn’t like talking on the phone, and besides---he needed to see your face. There was so much emotion a blind phone conversation could never capture; a lowering of the eyes or a worried brow. He needed to smell you, touch you, and taste your lips; he craved it in the deep corners of his cobwebbed soul.

If there was one thing about Eddie, he was patient when it came to matters of the heart. Matters of his dick were a different story, clearly, but when it came to those rare times in his life when he saw someone as a potential partner, he couldn't just dive in with reckless abandon; he wasn’t Steve. When Eddie loved someone, he handed over his entire heart: all of his loyalty, all of his trust, everything he owned---and that kind of vulnerability was not something he’d been open to feeling for what felt like an eternity.

There had been a woman who was very special to him once, years before you, and it ended with Eddie being hauled off to jail for beating the guy she was cheating on him with to a pulp. He bought a house and moved her in with him; he had a whole lifetime together with her planned in his head. But, there had been clear signs that it was never going to work, including the tiny detail that she never really loved him. Sure, she loved his image, the fact that he was in a band, the way he protected her, but he never felt like he could really be himself around her. He always felt tense and worried, like everything he did would never be enough.

He’d asked himself a million times since then what made him fall in love with her, and the most obvious answer what that he didn’t really know how love was supposed to feel at the time. His whole life, it felt like people were always leaving him, like he was always begging to be noticed and loved, and so her often cold disregard of him felt like familiar territory. Then, one day he comes home early from an overnight run with the Kings to find her taking it doggy style in their bed from this guitarist that Eddie had always considered a friend.

For months, she begged to come back, for him to forgive her, but once Eddie shuts a door, it locks forever. He knew he could never trust her again, which was the most important thing to him, and the pain of that betrayal still lingered like a permanent scar on his heart. In an effort to distract himself, he joined the Coffin Kings charter in Chicago and moved there for a year, fought in an underground bare knuckle ring, and did everything he could to numb himself. That was around the time Steve found out he was a father by way of Oliver basically being dumped at his doorstep, and Eddie realized he didn’t want to miss any more of his honorary nephew’s life.

All of the women he’d been with since then were just futile efforts to fill the void, until you.

So, what are you going to do about it, then, Munson? Just lurk out here on the street all night like a little kid at the fair who’s afraid of the big rides?

He dismounted the bike and stomped out his cigarette nub with the toe of his boot, adjusting the sleeves of his leather. Something made his defenses spike and he looked around the street to see if someone might be sitting in their car, watching him. At this point, he was almost certain that Charlene had paid someone to watch him, because for two days in a row, he’d noticed the same dark red Chevy Cavalier tailing him, staying at least one or two cars back. He didn’t see a car that fit the description parked anywhere near, but whoever it was could be anywhere, maybe even in the building across the street.

Charlene’s unhealthy obsession with him had to run it’s course eventually, she had to get bored and give up at one point. He hoped so, anyway. He couldn’t imagine her dragging this out for much longer, but he also never expected these threats from her in the first place, so he rightfully had his concerns. He thought maybe if he held out a few more weeks, she’d be off on one of her exotic vacations, and she could move on to ruining someone else’s life. But, he couldn’t wait that long to see you, to touch you. Hell, in a couple weeks you might not even want him anymore, and it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

There was a chance you might not want him now. There was a chance he’d already fucked everything up.

Thumper was a longtime friend, and he’d been with the Coffin Kings ever since back in the day when Wayne was a patched member. The two smacked their hands together in a signature grip as Eddie crossed the threshold onto the burgundy carpet. Inside the Velvet Hammer was buzzing with music and people and dancers wearing next to nothing on the back stages, people sitting shoulder to shoulder at the bar.

You might as well have been the only one there, though, because you were all he could see: simultaneously loving and hating the fact that you were dressed to kill. He’d never seen you in that color of lipstick before; it was a deep red and he ached to part them with his tongue.

He swore you were about to smile when your eyes met, he caught that adorable glimmer pass over your face and it made his heart still for a beat. But, then it faded just as quickly and you turned away to continue on with what you were doing, giving him the cold shoulder.

This was the first time you hadn’t rushed into his arms since this whole thing started, and it wrecked him. But, he also knew he kind of deserved it.

-----------

Your mouth was moving and sounds were coming out, but you couldn’t remember a word you’d said to the guys at the table in the corner who were still nursing their beers. Your ears were ringing and your adrenaline was surging, flushing a hot wave over your chest. Had Eddie come there to see you? Or was he just there to casually have a drink and get turned on like everyone else?

If he wasn’t there to see you, and he planned on just coming by to hang out once in a while, you’d have to quit. There’s no way you could keep seeing him on a regular basis if this was how he chose to treat you, it would hurt too damn much, and no job was worth that. You had this overwhelming urge to run and hide somewhere, but you couldn’t duck out until Jackie came back, and so you straightened your shoulders and turned to face the music like a big girl.

And there he was: standing at the bar with both elbows hooked on the ledge behind him, boots crossed at the ankles, waiting for you. You could tell that he had just been checking out your ass because of the way his gaze flicked up to your eyes with incriminating speed. His expression was unreadable, but that was nothing new.

Reluctantly, but also, with excitement bubbling in your veins, you made your way over to him, pausing briefly as one of the other servers walked out of the hallway where the bathrooms were. Another song started up, this time it was #1 Crush by Garbage.

“Do you have a break soon?” Eddie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry at how hot you looked in that strange zipper dress. “Or, I can come back?” His mind couldn’t help but jump straight to the fact that every single dude in the place was thinking dirty thoughts about you, and it made his back teeth clench.

He was there to see you, you thought, your heart soaring. But in almost the same second you realized that he could be there to tell you that this wasn’t working out, that he didn’t want to see you anymore, that he met someone else, that he was moving to Brazil: all of which would be awful, but then at least you could start the process of moving on instead of hanging in limbo. Moving on from Eddie…that sounded like it was easier said than done.

Just then, as your mouth was open about so answer him, Jackie came out adjusting her belt, chewing gum. “Your turn,” she said as she walked between the two of you. “Take a fifteen. Oh, hey Munson,” she added passively at the end, patting him on the arm as she continued around the bar.

-------------

At the far end of the hallway there was a heavy metal door that locked from the outside automatically when it shut, and there was a little wood wedge out in the alley to keep it open a crack. You bent down to push the wedge into place while Eddie put his hands on his hips and stared at the brick of the building across the way so that he wouldn’t get an erection at the sight of your perfect ass up in the air.

On one side of you squatted a big, metal dumpster, and on the other side were a few square crates where employees sat during their breaks, the pavement between them littered with cigarette butts. It was dark, and the only illumination came from a bulb over the door across the way and a streetlamp further down where the alley met with the sidewalk.

Eddie could tell things were different, he could tell you were upset, probably even hurt and disappointed, and he hated that he had something to do with that. All he wanted to do was put his arms around you, but your energy was telling him that you weren’t ready for that.

“I’m sorry…” He hesitated. What was he sorry for? Lots of things. “...for breaking our date and not calling.”

Your tight stomach softened, and your gaze flicked to his after not being able to make eye contact since stepping out of the building.

Eddie hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and looked down at the ground, shuffling his foot. “I had some shit to take care of and I got overwhelmed. But I should’ve said something to you.”

This was starting to be a pattern with him, but you believed that he was telling the truth. It sounded like there was a lot more to the story, but a sincere apology was worth it’s weight in gold to you. You could also tell that he was nervous to be in front of you right then, like maybe you wouldn’t forgive him.

He opened his mouth to say something else and you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, making his gaze jump to yours. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him as he unhooked his thumb from his belt loop and took your hand. “I missed your stupid face, that’s all.”

He gave a soft snort, a sparkle returning to his eyes.

You leaned in, resting your other hand on his chest, relishing the direction this conversation had gone and how safe and whole you felt in his presence. You searched his eyes. “You need to communicate with me if this is ever going to work, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things. Really, there’s nothing you could ever share with me about your life that I wouldn’t be able to handle.”

He really, really wanted to believe that was true, but the cynical part of him, the part that had learned to keep secrets as a way of life, doubted that anyone was that understanding.

“Come here,” he breathed on the curve of a smile, cupping your neck, and pulling your mouth to his. There were a few tender, sweet kisses, no tongue, and then he brushed his nose across yours a few times, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “I missed this.”

You kissed his bottom lip, and then his top lip, savoring their plump, perfect shape, before resting your head below his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him in a hug, his leather squeaking at your embrace.

You released a long, heavy breath. “I thought you came here to tell me you didn’t like me anymore.”

He kissed your temple. “I never said I liked you,” he mumbled, to which you dug your fingers into his ribs in an effort to tickle him, simultaneously trying to pull away. But, he held you tightly in place, deep chuckles rumbling in his chest. “It’s much more than that.”

At those words, you settled, smile pressed up against him, swooning so hard you felt like you were drunk.

What he had with you was special, and now, in his thirties, Eddie knew how rare this kind of chemistry was. You were the drug he wanted to be strung out on.

This...this was his, and he wouldn’t let anyone, especially Charlene, take it away from him.

--------------

There was a pep in your step when you returned to work, enough so that Jackie commented on it, giving you a side eye. “Who the hell got you off on your break?” she asked rhetorically.

Truly, your break had felt like it was over in a blink, like you and Eddie had only been standing out in the alleyway for a second before you checked your Swatch and had to scramble back inside. He asked if he could wait for you and walk you back to your car when your shift was over, and you were fine with that, but you let him know it would be another hour or so, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Eddie knew a lot of the people who worked at the Velvet Hammer. Or, more precisely, the people who worked there knew Eddie. The bartender that night was a guy who looked like Kurt Cobain and he ignored everyone else to make sure Eddie got what he wanted the second he sat down at the bar. The place was packed by then, but every chance you got, you would walk by and run your hand across Eddie’s back and give him a flirty glance over your shoulder as you schlepped drinks around.

Thumper came over and sat next to Eddie when the night got slow and had a beer with him, and the two went out front to have a smoke and chat about the good ‘ol days.

“Is that new server your old lady?” Thumper asked after a drag on his cigarette. He flicked the ashes to the sidewalk and cocked his head.

Eddie propped his foot up behind him, against the building, wallet chain hanging down his thigh, thoughtfully exhaling gray smoke into the night. “Maybe, if I don’t fuck everything up,” he coughed.

Thumper wheezed in a laughing spasm. “You still sticking it to that rich bitch, what’s her name?”

Eddie stiffened. “That’s been over for a while. Bitch got all Fatal Attraction on me,” Eddie’s vernacular took a turn when he was around the older charter members, it was second nature.

“Man, I wish I was 20 years younger,” Thumper sucked in the tuft of graying hair that was under his lip. “Those were the days.”

Eddie was eager to change the subject. “How is the fourth marriage working out for you?”

“Fifth,” Thumper corrected with a nod. “Divorced Jeanie last spring, married Lorraine a few months ago. No kids this time, I got the snip. One more baby momma would break me.”

As bleak as the conversation topic was, Eddie had an inner warmth radiating through his body, healing him, now that he knew the two of you were back in a good place. He didn’t know if a traditional wedding or kids were things that you wanted, but he saw himself making coffee for you in the morning and bringing it to you in your studio while you worked on a painting. He could see you running out the door to hug him as he dragged himself home after a long day at work. A life together with a porch swing and a view of the sunset, maybe a cat and a dog and some chickens. A big garage for his bike and whatever classic car he was working on at the time.

God, he was getting a head of himself. Did you even like dogs?

-----------

Back in the dressing room at the end of your shift, you and Jackie were both changing out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable when Jackie whipped around in only her bra and panties, startling you as you pulled your shirt on over your head.

“Hold up, you never told me you were Eddie Munson’s girl,” she hushed, giving you a sustained look of awe. “The stories I’ve heard about that cock are legendary.”

The way she sounded when she said it suggested that you should’ve been proud, but the declaration only succeeded in activating your anxiety. You tried not to think of all of the women in town he’d given orgasms to as you tied the laces on your shoes. As long as he was faithful to you, none of that other business should matter. But still, somehow it did. That reminded you, maybe it was time to lay the cards out on the table and have that monogamy talk before you got more invested than you already were.

There were still a few customers hunched over their drinks as you walked out, but the dancers were done, and you said goodbye to Jesse, the bartender, thanking him for all of his help. Jackie gave you a high five, and hugged Thumper before she headed off down the opposite side of the street, high ponytail bobbing.

You smiled up at Eddie who was standing there with his arm out, waiting for you to curl against him so he could wrap it around your shoulders.

“I thought for sure you would’ve ditched me by now,” you told him, slipping one of your hands into his back pocket.

“Nah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Eddie joked, lifting his hand in a wave to Thumper as the two of you headed off down the street.

“Take care of that one,” Thumper shouted. “She’s a good girl.”

------------

“Are you?” Eddie asked as the two of you approached your car that was parked a block away.

“Am I what?” You asked, stopping to turn and gaze up into his face.

Eddie lifted his chin with a smirk, exposing the tattoo lines that peeked out of the collar of his shirt across his throat. “A good girl?”

You wet your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue and tilted your head. “Depends on who wants to know.”

He pulled took you into his arms for another kiss, eager tongues this time, moans in the back of throats, cock jumping in his jeans.

Your lips came away just enough to speak, your hand cupping his face, the stubble around his jaw prickling your palm. “What about you? Are you a good boy?”

There was a shiver of hesitation on his breath before he answered. “Only for you.”

The two of you were locked in a moment, you could’ve been on the sidewalk, you could’ve been standing on the moon---nothing mattered and you had no concept of time.

But then Eddie spoke up again. “Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a ride? I want to show you something.”

You didn’t have to be back at the Velvet Hammer until Saturday, and the thought of getting on Eddie’s bike again gave you excited goosebumps.

Eddie started opening the strap on one of the black leather saddlebags on the back of his chopper once the two of you arrived, and you stood back and watched as he pulled out a second bare bones helmet, the top shiny like the round edge of a bowling ball.

“I got this for you,” Eddie said, passing it over. “It should fit better than mine.”

You were speechless for a moment, looking down at it, touched by the thoughtful gift. “Thank you, I love it,” you whispered. He placed it on your head and adjusted the strap under your chin, diligently making sure it fit correctly.

“Is it too tight?” He asked, making sure the sides weren’t pinning your ears.

“It’s perfect,” you nodded.

He straddled the bike. “Do you remember how to get on?”

But you were already grabbing onto the back of his jacket and swinging your leg over. You’d been practicing getting on the back of Eddie’s bike in your dreams.

-------------

You clung to him as the two of you sped along in the dark, your fingertips meeting at his stomach, chest glued to his back, core locked to his tailbone. He had on a pair of clear, protective glasses to keep the bugs from blinding him, and every so often, he would reach one hand down and put it over yours as the bike wound up the hill. You’d kiss the exposed skin on the back of his neck between his hairline and the collar of his leather, and he’d squeeze your thigh.

The spot he wanted to you to was a grass ledge near a line of cherry blossom trees that overlooked the city. He pulled out a thin blanket from one of his saddlebags and stretched it out over the grass. Lights down below twinkled like stars and you took your new helmet off to get comfortable next to him.

“Yep, it’s ugly,” you joked, referring to the spectacular view.

Eddie stretched his legs out in front of him and braced himself on his hands. “I knew you’d hate it just as much as I do,” but then there was a sliver of hesitation, his foot moving back and forth as he considered if he should say it or not. “I’ve never taken anyone up here before.”

Summer was fast approaching as far as the temperature went, but the nights were still chilly, and you had a sweatshirt on, but his proximity and the tone of his voice was rapidly throwing coals on the fire in your circulatory system.

Things progressed quickly. One second, you were laughing at a joke he made, and the next---your lips were on each other, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, heat throbbing between your legs. You were trying to push his jacket off, but Eddie sat up and removed it in a flash, tossing it on the bike with a twist of his wrist.

You rutted your hips against him a few times, but you could sense the hesitancy he had for whatever reason, and you took hold of his hand to move it down to your core, enjoying the growl he let out when he latched on to the wet heat already permeating through your jeans. You clung to his neck as he unzipped them, and you wiggled your hips out so he could slide his hand in. He paused only to take his rings off of his H-E-L-L-F-I-R-E knuckles, and then his fingers dipped back down to curl inside your underwear, slipping into the gushing arousal he found there, groaning against your mouth.

His thick fingers rolled in circles over your anxious nub. “Is this mine?” He asked in a throaty whisper, pressing his forehead to yours, waiting for you to answer.

Saliva got stuck in your throat but you whimpered a yes. He starts to slip his fingers down through your folds and you quiver as he travels deeper, aching to penetrate you, but you catch his wrist, stopping him from going any further.

“I have to...to say something,” you breathed.

Eddie pulled his hand out and rested it on your thigh, and brought his face back so he could see your eyes as you blinked at him under the moonlight. “You can tell me anything, baby.”

You planted a kiss on his chin, feeling nervous for some reason when it came to setting your boundaries. “I can’t be intimate with you if you’re also doing this with other women. I need to know that we’re…” you struggled with how to word that. Demanding some large scale commitment from him might come off as getting ahead of yourself. “I need to know that you and I are something special and there’s no one else,” you paused to lick your lips, eyes lowered to the neckline of his shirt.

Nothing you said could’ve pleased Eddie more, and his attraction to you intensified ten fold in that moment. He used the crook of his finger to tilt your chin up, encouraging you to meet his eyes. “There’s no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else since the barbecue at Robin’s house.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to add, “if you’re my girl, there will never be anyone else,” but he didn’t want to come off as smothering, or make you feel uncomfortable with the intensity in which he was capable of devoting to you.

Relieved, you brushed his cheek with your thumb. “Trust and monogamy are really important to me, I need to know I can trust you,” your eyes met, searching deep, and he pulled your hand to his chest. “You’re the only one I want to be with, and I think we could---”

But Eddie’s lips found yours with a new level of need as he wholeheartedly agreed, so caught up in his growing feelings for you that he didn’t have the words to express them. He could ramble on about cars and music and bikes all day long, but when it came to feelings like this? He was struck dumb.

“I want to taste my girl,” he choked out, helping to work your jeans down with his hand as you kicked them down and off, keeping your mouth on his while your hand clutched his hair that had fallen from the tie and was loose around his shoulders.

“I want to be in your mouth, baby,” you gasped as he met your eyes and then made his way down, lifting your shirt to kiss your stomach, tongue darting out to tease your flesh, face stubble tickling.

A purr escaped his throat as his mouth found its destination and he planted kisses on the outside of your soaked underwear, down your slit, and then he peeled them to the side with his finger, darting his tongue in just enough to make you writhe.

“You can...take those off…” you breathed.

He kissed your inner thigh. “You let me take care of it,” he told you in a deep voice, as he continued on with his business.

His tongue dove in to penetrate you a few times, swallowing, groaning, “fuck, you taste so good,” his hot breath fanned against you as his cock begged for release, his hips rocking against the ground.

The need to be inside of you was overwhelming; painful, even, but he hadn’t brought any condoms with him, and he didn’t know how you would feel about being that close to him this soon in the game. The thought of getting you to cum in his mouth already had his cock leaking.

For some reason, the way he pulled your underwear to the side was turning you on even more? He sucked your clit in and flicked it with his tongue, moaning against you, and it made you arch your chest, exposing your throat to the cherry blossoms above as you cursed. He drew a few long licks along your slit, and then you felt a finger go in just as your fingers dug into the grass on either side of the blanket.

“Are you mine?” Eddie asked between sucks, sinking another finger in.

Crickets made their music all around as the soft hush of the town life below drifted up in the darkness.

“I’m-I’m all yours, baby,” you stammered, forehead clenched.

Eddie’s fingers found a rhythm, moving long and deep in fast strokes as his mouth found the perfect spot that made you hiss, “right there right there,” and he kept working until he could feel your tight walls start to clench around his fingers.

“You’re so good, baby,” you were mumbling, barely coherent now as a strangled cry escaped your lips and your hips fucked into his hand and Eddie’s pelvis fucked the ground, and your eyes started to roll back in your head.

“Eddie, Eddie, cum-cum-cumming,” you jerked as the velvet walls crashed around you, limbs popping spasmodically, whimpering his name.

Eddie pressed his mouth against your core, one hand around your thigh to pin you against his tongue so that he could drink every last drop, riding the high with you until he knew your nub would be too sensitive, and then his tongue returned to your hole a few times, moaning with pleasure at the sweet nectar of your release.

And then you were pulling him up, coaxing him into your arms, your mouth eager to find his and taste your spend on his lips. He wrapped the side of the blanket around you to keep you warm as you rolled against him, both lost in an oxytocin high, muttering words of affection to each other.

Both falling hard under the adoring pink eyes of the cherry blossoms.

------------

The next day, someone knocked on the door to the women’s restroom at the Velvet Hammer because it was locked, and Steve’s head sprang up from between the thighs of the woman he had propped up on the sink counter.

“Ocupado!” he yelled in Spanish, lips and chin glistening in the dim red light.

The woman with the short skirt shoved up around her waist and her feet planted on his shoulders whined, “Don’t stop, Stevie, I’m close,” which made Steve’s mouth lunge forward again with unbridled enthusiasm.

About a minute later, she came, while grabbing his hair and telling him no one ever made her cum that hard. She was a yoga instructor, and they’d only met up a few times so far, but he was already thinking about getting her name tattooed somewhere on his body.

As they were cleaning up, there was another knock at the door, this time it was more of an aggressive pounding, followed by the voice of Jackie, one of the servers. “Telephone call for you, Casanova!” She swatted the door a few more times with the palm of her hand.

Steve let Mary the yoga instructor go out first, and then he followed after a ten count, tucking his shirt in and slicking his hair back as he went. Mary went to the bar to wait for him. It was almost 9:30 and he was getting off early that night because there was another bouncer there, and it was slow for a Friday.

Steve ducked in behind the bar and yanked the receiver to his ear. “Yeah, this is Steve? Whadda ya want?”

It was you, and by the sound of the gentle sucking in of breath and tremor in your voice, you had been crying. Your voice was a tiny mew. “Steve? Have you seen Eddie tonight?”

At the dire tone of your voice, Steve curled into the corner of the bar and put a finger in his other ear so that he could hear you more clearly. “I haven’t, but I should put an ankle monitor on him. Are you okay? Are Oliver and the girls okay?”

You cleared your throat, about to try and explain, but then just said, “Everyone is fine. I’m sorry to bother you. I have to go,” and then you hung up on him, sobs jerking in your chest.

-----------

Earlier that same evening, Robin and Oliver came over to have a pizza night with you and Katie at your place, and then Robin and Katie cuddled in front of the TV while you and Oliver spread out at the kitchen table to make some art.

You had been messing around with some watercolor pencil sketches when they first arrived, and Oliver was mesmerized. He sat as close as he could to you and asked if he could help. You brought out a bunch of markers and crayons and brushes from your studio, and the two of you worked in silence for periods of time, just enjoying the craft. He was a creative, intelligent little boy, and the latent motherhood genes in your DNA made you feel very protective of him. Mess with you? Fine. Mess with Oliver? I will end you.

His concentration reminded you of a younger you, honestly, and a couple times he mentioned his Uncle Eddie and your heart swelled.

Speaking of Eddie---last night, after he made you cum like a banshee, you got dressed so he could take you back down the hill to your car. You called him once you got home, like he asked you to, but you hadn’t heard from him since. Fridays were always busy for him at work, never mind the rest of the shit he had to deal with, so you weren’t too worried about it. He’d probably call you later when he was in bed. There had been a palpable shift, and things were different between the two of you now. You were both on the same page, each committed to a mutual respect for each other.

By the end of the evening, when there was only a few crusts of pizza left in the box, Oliver gathered the handful of artwork he’d created on your sketchbook paper, and slid them over to you as if he was making a business deal.

“Can you sell these in your gallery?” he asked, bending one of his small fingers into the stack. “That way I can help my mom pay some bills.”

For more reasons that one, you started to tear up. You turned your head away to sniff and ran your finger under your eyes, blinking as wide as you could to keep the waterworks at bay.

“Ollie,” Robin said softly. She had just been coming up behind him when he said that, and her eyes met yours. “Things have been a bit stressful lately, but I never told him to---”

“I wish I could,” you nodded, composing yourself, turning to smile at Oliver. “These drawings are worth way too much, though, our gallery could never afford them.”

He looked thoughtfully down at the stack and shuffled them, smiling to himself, and then he pulled one out and passed hit to you. “This one is you and uncle Eddie. You can keep it.”

You were suddenly so emotional. Was your period close? Was someone cutting onions?

The picture he drew with watercolor pencils and charcoal and crayons was a tall stick figure with long, wavy dark hair holding hands with a big pink heart with arms and legs, but no hair or other defining characteristics. An orange oval with legs and a round head to represent your cat Charlie, and there were “m” shaped birds and a sun in the sky.

You thanked Oliver, swallowing back a hitch in your chest, and immediately went over to put his artwork on the fridge, wiping your wet cheeks.

-------

Robin and Oliver had been gone for 20 minutes or so, and you and Katie were wrapped up on opposite ends of the couch watching a horror movie in the dark, candles burning on the coffee table, when the doorbell rang.

It didn’t just ding once: whoever it was blasted their finger onto the button a good 6 or 7 times before they let up.

“What the hell,” you murmured, pausing the tape as you got up, prancing to the door, hoping that it might be Eddie.

You peaked through the peephole and was confused to see no one there. Your eyeball was scanning around for other signs of life when it landed on a manila envelope on the doormat.

“Where you expecting some mail?” You called to Katie, and she got so curious, she jumped up from the couch to come down the hall and see what made you ask that.

She checked the peephole to take a look at the envelope and the surrounding area. Down the street, you heard a car engine start up.

You backed up, worry creasing your brow. “Leave it. I have a bad feeling.”

Katie threw you a look over her shoulder before she unlocked the door and swiftly bent down to snatch the envelope before reeling back inside and clamping the locks down again.

“It has your name on it,” she said, handing it to you.

Sure enough, on the front was your full name in block letters, and on the other side was a sealed lip held in place by an aluminum tab.

Just then, a dark red Chevy Cavalier crept down the street without its headlights and eased onto the main road, out of sight.

-----------

Eddie was at the garage finishing up until 6, and then he had a beer with Bones, who was also a Coffin King and one of his mechanics, and then he went over to Wayne’s to help him install a new cabinet in his bathroom. He made them both some tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner, and it got him wondering if you would like it if he made it for you.

It was getting late, and he almost called you from Wayne’s, but decided it would feel good to take his boots off and lay down first. He’d let you know the night before that you might not hear from him until late; he was determined to be a better communicator and not let you down again.

He yawned as he entered his apartment, locking the door behind him and throwing his leather on the back of the sofa.

The new answering machine that he had picked up from Radio Shack on his lunch break, and set up at your request, was blinking that he had 2 new messages, but it wasn’t something he was used to checking, so he cracked open a beer and hopped in the shower first.

------------

Once you saw what was in the envelope, denial was the first stage you jumped to.

“But, what are these?” You spread them out on the kitchen island, shock clamping down on your brain so that it refused to process the information in front of you.

They were 8x10 photos, taken with some type of high-powered camera...of Eddie. In his apartment. With two different women on separate occasions. All taken within the past couple days.

How did you know that they were taken within the last couple days? Whoever took them didn’t want to leave you with any room for doubt, and so they were holding up the front page of the paper for that day to mark each incident.

But, you knew Eddie so well, that detail would not have been necessary.

In the ones where he was in nothing but his boxers, kissing Erica in the hallway, you could see the markings from the love bite on his neck that you had accidentally given him over the weekend when he came to pick you up at the gallery.

In the second set of photos, where a tattooed redhead you didn’t recognize was behind him on the bed with her arms wrapped around him---he was in the exact same t-shirt he’d worn last night with a smudge of your red lipstick on the white collar. From when you were both under the cherry blossoms. When he promised that you could trust him and there was no one else. After you opened yourself up to him and let him take a piece of you.

“Who would do this?” Katie said in a hush, almost to herself, picking up each one to look at it closer. “Why would someone do this?”

“There must be a mistake,” you mumbled, your nervous system crashing, feeling lightheaded.

Katie swallowed and put down the photo she was holding, giving you a look that was full of sadness and concern. “How could it be a mistake, though? That is definitely Eddie.”

Feeling yourself about to lose it, you scrambled to pull all of the photos together and hurried down the hall to lock yourself in your room. Once inside, you clutched the photos to your chest and slid down the door until you were on the ground, shaking, choking on tears.

-----------

The older man with the salt n’ pepper hair and crystal blue eyes returned to the Velvet Hammer on Friday evening just to see if you were working. He had a whiskey sour at the bar and asked after you, but was told you didn’t have a shift that evening. Steve overheard the conversation he was having with the bartender and went over to him.

“She’s a friend of mine,” Steve raised an eyebrow, rolling a toothpick between his lips. “Why are you asking about her?”

John turned on his bar stool and shook Steve’s hand, white teeth brilliant against his tan skin.

“She waited on our table the other day, and, it took me a while, but I finally realized where I knew her from.” He paused to extend his hand and ask Steve if he could buy him a drink, but Steve declined.

John opened his wallet to pull a business card out. “I bought some original art from her at an outdoor market a few years ago. She’s a brilliant painter," he met Steve’s bored gaze, seemingly unaffected by the intimidation factor that he usually had on people.

He handed Steve his card. “I’d love to commission another piece from her, if she’s willing. Do you think you could have her call my office?”

Steve inspected the card, turning it over.

“I wrote my personal line on the back,” he continued. “I’m usually at work, but my secretary always knows where to find me.”

Steve knew that you’d be glad for the extra cash, so he slipped the guys card in his back pocket instead of throwing it away like he normally would.

“I didn’t catch your name?” John asked Steve.

“That’s because I never threw it,” Steve returned, introducing himself.

“Good to meet you, Steve,” he nodded sincerely. “My name is John. John Gregson.”

Steve had already read his name on the business card and was still trying to figure out why it sounded so familiar as he watched him get into a black Mercedes across the street.

----------

Eddie was in his gray sweats, drying his hair with a towel when he finally noticed the number 2 flashing on the machine. He pushed play absently as he went to sit on the bed.

The first message sounded like a strangled gasp and then a sniffle, and it made his head snap up, both hands holding onto the blue towel around his neck.

“...Eddie…” it was you, and he could tell you were in distress, and you’d been crying. He leaned forward to hover over the machine, his brow clenched. There was a stretch of time where you were struggling to speak and only managed to swallow a few times. “….why would you do this to me?” Then another pause when it sounded like you were whispering whywhywhy over and over under your breath.

You finished with, “This hurts so bad...." And then there was a click and the message abruptly stopped.

Eddie’s head was reeling, fear and worry jack-hammering in his veins.

His eyes wide and frantic, he picked up the receiver to call you, but then the second message clicked on.

The sound of Charlene’s voice spiked with amused laughter sent a dagger into his gut:

“I warned you.”

--------

Part 9

-------

Taglist for my loves: @hideoutside @leilalaufeyson02 @lilpotatobean2 @dandelionnfluff @sidthedollface2

@munsons-mayhem28 @eddiemunson95 @kelsiegrin

@ireidsmut @stylesxmunson @nope-thanks @lofaewrites @corrodedcoffinsmut @seventhlevelofhell @whatwedontdointheshadows @falling-solar-system @kurdtbean

@emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @ms1oftheboys

@hellv1ra @dream-a-little-nightmare @etherealglimmer @manicmagicmayhem @layla-loves-ed @aysheashea @unfocused81 @notsobubblybaby @truffleshuffle12

[doberbutts]

I think the terms TMA/TME work best when they're used as rules of thumb, rather than expected to function as strict categories. They're often helpful, but occasionally they can become obfuscatory, and there are edge cases where they can't be neatly applied. In those cases, they should be set aside, but with an understanding that they will be brought back into conversations when helpful.

To give a personal perspective - I'm a trans masc individual who has, upon occasion, experienced misdirected transmisogyny. I was on T for 5 years, then came off it (partly due to health problems, partly due to starting to identify as nonbinary rather than as a man) and began presenting in a more feminine manner, and people would regularly mistake me for a trans woman.

When people thought I was a trans woman, I did notice an increase in hostility, harassment and unwelcome advances from strangers. Groups of men would shout at me in the street, mothers would glare at me and physically pull their children further away from me if I came near. I also started getting catcalled and couldn't enjoy a night out in a club without being groped. I'd experienced some of these things as a trans man and as a girl, but probably never at such a high frequency or so intensely.

I definitely think I got a taste of transmisogyny and people do still assume I'm trans fem from time to time. But I still wouldn't describe myself as TMA. I don't shout it from the rooftops, but if it feels relevant in the context of a conversation, I will say I'm TME. Because I think the terms are about overarching dynamics, rather than whether or not an individual has ever faced a single instance of transmisogyny.

For me, there was always a sense of distance between myself and any negative experience, that came from knowing they'd misread my AGAB - "that lad just called me a chick with a dick! How funny! I'd be so lucky!" / "You're harassing me for using the female showers at the gym when I am literally menstruating. Are you going to stop being a creep, or do I have to show you my bloody tampon?" There's a degree to which I can sidestep or disavow their idea of me in a manner trans women can't.

I also don't know what it's like to deal with many other elements of transmisogyny, or deal with it as an overarching narrative in one's life rather than a freak episode.

I think it's fair to say I have at times been a grey area and I could use my experiences to argue against the validity of TME/TMA, but I don't want to do that. I don't like it when the terms are just used as a way to say AFAB/AMAB while being perceived as less problematic. But I think it is helpful to have little shorthand reminders about specific power dynamics that do have an impact in our communities. I have absolutely seen transmisogyny play out in queer spaces, both online and IRL, and I think it's worth having vocabulary that emphatically reminds people to check themselves and to not assume they don't have internalised bias against trans women just because they're trans masc.

Trans women are a boogeyman in popular culture and the collective unconscious in a way trans men never have been (at least, not to anything like the same extent). Trans women face an intensity of monstering that I think most people won't understand unless they spend a lot of time sharing space with and listening to trans women. The rapid adoption of TMA/TME feels like an attempt to fast-track that understanding en masse. Maybe it's a bit clumsy, but I do think it's having an impact and important conversations are happening. I don't know if the terms will stick or fall out of use. Having been in the trans community for over a decade and seeing how our vocabularies evolve, I'm inclined to think they'll stick around for a few years and then largely disappear. But I feel that while trans women are finding them useful, we need to be respectful of that fact.

Idk sorry to rant in your askbox, I wanted to give my two cents. Feel free to ignore lol

I'm going to be a bit blunt here: in the span of time I've been off tumblr to, you know, sleep... I've gotten 20 different asks trying to convince me to like the usage of tma/tme and also several transphobic asks about my top surgery. The transphobic ones I blocked and deleted because I'm literally 3 weeks out and will not be dissuaded. But I'm simply not willing to continue arguing a point I've made very clear that I don't love the usage of this particular theory the way it's currently being used.

You can like it for yourself. I have said this over and over again. I do not like it for me, and do not think it is accurate for my life or my experiences or the reality that is what I have to go through on a regular basis. True to everything else that I've posted, I don't really care what you call yourself. If you want to call yourself TME and you believe that framework works for your experience, more power to you. Just don't label me that, because I don't think it works for mine.

Trans women are absolutely a boogeyman in a way that trans men often aren't. That is, unfortunately, one of the ways that hypervisibility is such a curse. Everyone knows what a trans woman is, and a good majority of those people also think the only good one's a dead one. That's bad. That's transmisogyny, and we should ally with trans women to help fix this problem.

Also unfortunately, as trans men become more and more visible to the world, instead of facing mass erasure and dying in silence or escaping to live in stealth, trans men are also beginning to become a boogeyman as well. Now we are a social contagion, a craze, with rapid onset gender dysphoria, mutilating ourselves and ruining our precious bodies, carving out our wombs, simultaneously debasing ourselves and also becoming predators lurking to snatch daughters up and forcefeed them our ideology, betraying women by becoming a mockery of men. What's worse, we tend to politically close ranks with trans women and cis women alike so it's harder for transphobic lawmakers to divide and conquer as they're used to with cis men, so instead they have to demonize us to prevent any further allyship.

That's the conversation trans mascs are trying to have.

Genuinely, I do agree that trans women face an othering that most people do not grasp without understanding transmisogyny theory, which is why I think everyone should have at least a basic understanding of it. But I also think that's true of many other demographics, and that if we want to get out of the pit that bigoted society put us in, we've got to work together to do so. It was, after all, the combined efforts of Marsha P Johnson AND Storme de Laverie that brought us out in the open. And among me friend group, we have people from all different races and backgrounds and genders and more locking arms to ensure the safety of each other, wanting to understand and know each other, lifting each other up.

[yridenergyridenergy]

On the eve of the seven-year mark for this account, let's address the biggest hate point about me: how I insist that people either ask before, come and say thanks, simply link to or credit this page when they share/repost the content.

Even if I manage to convince a handful of peopIe, I will continually have to argue and work with people on this because it's not inherent. For example, I come from an online community where, decades ago, we were shocked when we learned that Japanese artists were mad that some people had simply copied and pasted their fanart. It's obvious when you stop to put yourself in their shoes, but for a lot of people, it takes some personal effort to accept the realization that: "Oh okay, I see where you're coming from." In no way am I comparing fanart with most of my content, as artists deserve a ton more praise, but the concept of being grateful for where you got stuff and not simply saving and reposting stuff is the same. And guess what? People outside of that aforementioned community, and even probably newcomers to that community, are still sharing uncredited fanart. It's not inherent, I get it.

For almost seven years, I have posted twice daily, at least, and this requires quite a lot of budget, time, innovation and effort. And absolutely, the content comes from the band themselves, I'm not the photographer(s), the live show recorders, the interviewers, etc. However, you also wouldn't have that GIF, JPG, etc. if it wasn't for me. I do it to share the love, the passion. If I don't mention the source in my post, then it's either directly cited on the picture or the band has not mentioned the source either, like for memocas.

Also, each perpetrator thinks of themselves individually, but imagine my perspective too: it's not just one, but dozens of people who keep reposting my content to their own crowd of followers without any context. When you don't mention a source and just display new content out of nowhere, you are indeed claiming it as if you were the benefactor.

So, am I fighting for the "clout" or whatever? Well, maybe in the same capacity as those people are clearly attracted to. Whether we are or not, it's just about the principle behind the whole situation that reposting is not the proper way to show that you are grateful about something. Unless it came from a robot or some big corporation without feelings or humanity. If you don't wish to interact and ask permission or say thanks at all, let alone like or reblog on Tumblr, then the least you can do is to mention where you found stuff. To whom you owe the pleasure of having seen that content and being able to share it.

And it's so stupid because on Twitter, for example, you benefit from 280 characters now, plus a link gives a preview of the images that are on the landing site. There is zero excuse for not mentioning your source right there in the post where you repost an image (or screenshots of a translated interview, mindblowingly enough), in addition to whatever small comment you want to make regarding the content, instead of in a subsequent reply that nobody will bother to check.

A lot of people will still disagree on this and hate me, and that's fine. If you don't like me, then don't engage with what I share, because that's just hypocritical. This really shouldn't be that controversial, it's just that your feathers are temporarily ruffled. People added watermarks on their GIFs and scans etc. way before I did.

And the descent from "Please credit if you repost" to "Do not repost" came because people didn't do even that anyway. But if someone comes to ask me if they can nevertheless, I'm super likely to say 'yes'.

At the end of the day, I want to keep this blog positive, I want to foster a good environment to lift people's mood day by day. We have enough bullshit in our lives. I've heard of the Dir en grey community being toxic at probably more than one stage of its existence, but hopefully we can keep avoiding that.

As for me, I am eternally grateful to those who keep up with my apparently insufferable self.