#and i dont have the space and tools and time to learn that

[thisisadecisionimayregret]

trying to get furniture is wild. like say you want a cabinet table type thing for your entryway. and like you go to thrift stores and antique stores bc getting something secondhand feels like a better deal and also probably better for the planet, but options are all way too big for your space and you're limited how far you can travel for it bc you do not have a car and would have to hire somebody or bully a friend into helping you get it home anyway. so you exhaust the thrift and antique stores near you in a decently sized city, and decide to google like. second hand furniture online. and you look around on fb marketplace or craigslist, nothing promising there unfortunately, or you run into the 'pickup only and I'd have to rent a van about it' problem, and so you start looking at other sites promoting secondhand furniture and you open one and it's like hey here's this little cabinet that costs more than what you make in two years :)) what a steal! and it's like damn yeah uh i guess this counts as secondhand bc it is not brand new but jesus christ. you coulda clarified this was the secondhand furniture store for millionaires

anyway. i've now spent like two hours looking at cabinets on wayfair cause well. they're at least within the ballpark of affordable without being like straight up plastic or flimsy plywood, and no offense to ikea but good accent cabinets they do not have

[livethrushit]

i don't want flowers, i want the entire sefaria dot org library in my HOUSE IN THE FLESH I WANNA TOUCH AND ANNOTATE ALL THESE READINGSS

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[chondrichthyes-x-mantodea]

Sooooo as someone going into fields that contain biology I think it's time we talk about how we see it from a fully male perspective. It's gotten to the point for me that I cannot listen to men talk biology, specifically reproduction. When we talk about male competition, we talk about it as "the right to mate". However this sees reproduction as a sentient, default specimen (male) doing to the secondary, inanimate vessel (female). In reality males fight for the CHANCE to win female attention. Females will forever be more selective sexually in the majority of animals. This is because females expend more energy in reproduction (the simple fact eggs are the larger gamete). Even in most fish, where care is commonly paternal, you will find heavy selection on the female side. Females are not fought over like an object to earn or "inseminate" the pure attention we give is what's fought over. Females almost always control their species. Look at tiger endlers. It may seem like the males harass females, but females actually CHOOSE exactly which sperm they concieve with and retain sperm for up to a year (trust me I have SEEN it myself). There's also this notion that males are all about genetics while female is about love or is about being a vessel. That's laughable. Females want their genetics to succeed just as much as males. They just dont have to fight as much because they have the limited gamete, its not a competition to be chosen when the other sex is unlimited. And the way we talk about paternal vs maternal. Paternal animals are all about "self preservation" but maternal animals are robots to their love. Dont get me started on how people act when I tell them my betta males do the incubating. We like to see it as a male competing to spread his genes and not a female choosing to complete her genes with the perfect individual. Every time someone tries to symbolize sex this shit comes into play. Male is the default that uses female as his tool. Be it describing it as penetration, fertilization, and much more. On the topic of "fertilization" did you know that the egg chooses the sperm? Did you know eggs are more complex than sperm? Did you know that eggs are not infertile without a sperm they just arent a embryo? We see female as defined by male, made valueable by male. A vessel filled by male. I think it's time for females to realize that nature is actually quite female centered. Hopefully as we get more women in this field, that will change. Because right now I'm starting to learn that a lot of science is worded in a way so males can cope with actually being quite lesser than females and at our disposal.

Edit: thanks for all the attention everyone! I've always wanted a space I could talk about this sort of thing. Glad to know I'm not alone on this. Trying to be in this field as a feminist can be insufferable

[dragonsondragons]

Part 1 - That Look In Your Eye | You Should Probably Leave series

You make big, bad, Jack Abbot nervous in a way he really isn’t used to. He fumbles his first attempt to invite you to the party, so Dr. Ellis gives him a crash course in how to get the girl.

Word Count: 3.9k

Content: yearning!jack, medical social worker!reader, reader is Jack’s work crush, slow burn, Jack on his #healingjourney, awkward abbot, unspecified age gap, named reader because I dont like using y/n (named her Nel, short for Eleanor. And yes Nel will be friends with Mel)

Read the Prologue! / Masterlist / Taglist

Author's Note: Sorry this took me sooo long to get together! I have the next few parts mapped out well and and mostly written tbh but was struggling so hard with how to introduce their interaction and dynamic in this part. Also, I would highly highly recommend reading the prologue before this part. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

In the Pitt, Jack was seen as a very confident man. He knows exactly what he’s capable of and precisely how to execute it most efficiently. It's one thing unshaken in all his years practicing medicine. No matter how low he’s felt– in war zones, in the pitt– he always stays steady under fire. Words and procedures are tools. He uses them to achieve a goal: keep the patient alive. Be calm, cool, concise. 

It's something he learned in combat, that medics aren't just healers and fighters. They are a source of confidence for the whole platoon. They set the tone. A force multiplier. He was supposed to keep a level head and know what to do, no hesitating. If he stayed cool everyone else would follow suit. 

He had to to seem confident on the outside, but never let himself feel it too much on the inside. If you feel too confident, you start to forget that there is just one critical moment, one mistake, standing between your patient and death.

Jack couldn't help but feel that way now, like he was one mistake from ruining his chances with you. Deep breath. No ones going to die, he repeats in his head. It's one of the constant reminders he’s had to give himself when anxiety spikes. Another deep breath.

He was supposed to be a confident guy. Asking out the girl you liked shouldn’t be so hard. 

But there was a disconnect for him, between what was shown to the world– a self assured master of his craft– and what he felt on the inside. Analyzing every little mistake so that he can be better for next time. Never letting himself feel too secure, always striving for better. Battling between his desires and that loud voice inside, telling him to isolate. 

Because of that voice his social confidence was a lot more shakey than his work persona. For the most part he can fake it till he makes it or keep enough distance from people that it doesn't matter. But then there was you, slowly drawing him out of his shell. Bit by bit so that he barely saw it coming until it hit him like a truck. He should have seen it a long time ago. But he likes you and there's no denying it now. He's decided he's gonna try and do something about it, and that requires some guts and smooth talking he’s not sure if he's capable of.

He pulls into his parking space in the hospital garage, yearning for you hard. He worked himself up all the way here and now that it's at the forefront of his brain he can’t resist the urge to be near you. 

You’ve got the guts, he tells himself, willing it to be true. Just invite her to the party. Just be yourself? Is that who he wanted to show her? This fucked up guy who can barely work up the courage to ask her one simple phrase. There it goes again; his mind working against him.

He walked in through the ambulance bay, backpack slung over one shoulder. Immediately, he saw you. You were sitting at the hub checking the patient census that had just come into your inbox from the day shift and radiating something bright. Maybe it was just him who saw you as the sun.

Now or never. He walked towards the large central desk and slung his backpack under an inner counter. He leaned down on his elbows behind the computer you worked at, thrumming his fingers against the counter top. “Hey, You.” 

His familiar greeting made your stomach flip and you couldn't help but smile. It had been a few days since your shifts had aligned. “Good evening, Dr Abbot,” you hum to him, eyes tearing away from your screen to look up into his hazel eyes. 

Suddenly his pep talk to himself in the car flew out the window. With you sitting right before him, everything inside his mind was gone. You sure didn't mind gazing into Jack’s eyes, in fact you enjoyed it, but the silence was dragging on so you broke it. 

“Missed you at lunch yesterday. I had to eat with Shen and he would not shut up about a big high pressure weather system moving in or something.” There was a pressure system building in Jack's chest. He wanted to respond but was caught up inside his mind. Missed you at lunch, echoed in his mind. She missed me? More pressure flared. 

“Everything okay, Jack?” you asked, head tilting as you looked at him so caringly. 

“Huh?”

“Seems like you’re somewhere else right now. And that look in your eyes, there’s something you’re not telling me.” She could always read him like a book. 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Got a lot on my mind right now.” He was going to continue to deflect, as usual. But she was already onto him. This was his chance. Might as well just come out with it. “Actually I uh was wondering of yo–” Your pager screamed out through the ED and you looked down at it on your waistband. He deflated. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, dayshift always has them on the highest volume.” You read the message coming in and started gathering stuff from the desk around you. “I have to get going to see this patient before discharge. What was it you were wondering though?”  

“Uh… I, um. I was just gonna ask if you, um. Brought your lunch today?”  Fuck. He lost all his steam when that pager went off.

“You know I always do.” You were standing up from the swivel chair now. “Same time as usual? Just page me if you're not gonna be able to make it?” He gives you one of his awkward thumbs up with both hands and says “See you up there,” as you turn to go see the patient. You smile back over your shoulder at him.

He leaned down and put his head between his hands on the counter top while chastising himself for his failed attempt at asking you out. 

He hadn’t registered Dr. Ellis off to the other side of the hub during this whole interaction, having been so focused on whatever it is between him and you that draws him in. A laugh burst out that snapped him out of his pity party. “What the hell was that, Abbot?” said Ellis, thoroughly amused at seeing a guy like Dr. Abbot who is so typically composure and competence fumble. “You can do a REBOA in your sleep but can’t flirt with a woman?”

He lifted his head slightly and glared. “Who said I was flirting?”

“Well, you certainly weren’t successfully flirting. But it would take a fool not to see that you like her.” He laid his head back down and groaned at that. Despite his current embarrassment, Jack liked working with Dr. Ellis more than most other people. He appreciated her no nonsense approach and deft skills. And the fact that she's not afraid of him. She will tell it to him like it is. He knew that interaction was bad, but if Ellis was confirming… then it was really terrible. 

“I don't know, I just… panicked.” How can he stay so calm when someone’s bleeding to death but couldn't do this one thing when faced with you. 

“Did you bring your lunch?!” she echoed him. “That was really what you came up with? What were you really trying to ask her?” He hesitated. But Ellis seemed to already know so much about this whole situation. Guess he wasn’t as close to the chest with his crush as he thought. Maybe he should let her give him some advice. 

“I’m having a party at my place soon, and I was trying to ask her to come,” he admitted.

Ellis raised one eyebrow. “You're having a party?” She never thought she would hear that come out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I'm having a party for everyone from work, you’re invited. That's not the point. Point is I had my chance and I chickened out.”

“Yeah, you did. You have absolutely no game, old timer.” 

“I have game, just… not in that particular instance. I'm out of practice,” he tries to defend himself.  

“Clearly. But I can help you with that.”

“She totally can,” Dr. Santos interjected. Santos had been trying out a rotation on the night shift and had just finished up with a patient in curtain 3 nearby. Always the eavesdropper, she tuned in to the conversation between Abbot and Ellis as she had approached the hub. “Dr. Ellis has got mad game, trust me.” Ellis rolls her eyes at the overzealous intern. “Wait–we’re talking about you getting nervous around Nel right?” 

“Wha-No. I don't get nervous around Nel.” Both women scoff at him. Jack’s eyes widen and turns to Ellis for a sidebar. “How do you both know about this? I don't want to make this a thing. If she's not into me I don't want her to be uncomfortable at work.” He can't be careless about this, needs to do it right. 

“Abbot, be so serious,” she deadpans. “She’s totally into you.”

“You don't know that,” Jack huffs. How do they know if you're into him? He barely let himself know he was into you until therapy earlier today. Santos and Ellis share a look. Santos butts in again, “Dude, it's so obvious. Her eyes literally twinkle when you're in the same room.”

“Don't dude me right now, Santos,” Jack snaps. Do they? Twinkle for him? He hopes so. But he doesn't want to get his hopes up. God, this whole thing is putting him so on edge. 

Ellis sees how uncomfortable Jack’s getting and jumps in. “The grownups are talking here, Dr. Santos. Guy over in North 12 needs his bowel dismipacted, go.” As she reluctantly leaves to go handle the literal shit that's been assigned to her, Ellis tunes back into the conversation with Jack.  

“She's right though, it's obvious you're both smitten. You’ve just gotta shoot your shot, man.” He takes a deep breath to steady himself at the thought. “What are you planning to say?” 

He hesitates. Drums his thumbs against the counter top again. “How about I'm having a party. You can come, if you want.”

“God, this is why I date women. You're useless.” 

“You said you would help!”

“Look–that's way too passive. Sounds like you don't care if she comes or not. Women like when you're sincere and confident. Usually that's your forte, but I guess not when you’re nervous about your crush. Try to tune in to that Abbot, ya know, direct and to the point.”

If I say what I actually mean, Jack thinks, it will be ‘I think you're smart and caring and beautiful, and I like spending time with you at work. And more than anything, I’d like to see you outside of this hell hole…preferably…all the time.’ He’s staring off into the abyss now.

“Oh my god, you're so in your head. Just be normal, be yourself! Say Hey, I'm having a party. I would really like it if you came.”  

“Got it, yeah. Be normal.” 

She huffs at his nervousness. “If you don't grow a spine and ask her out, I will,” Ellis jests, giving him a little incentive. 

“C'mon, give me a chance here.”

“She's hot, kind. Seems like a really great person. So you better snatch her up before someone else does.”

—

It was just before 1am when your stomach started to grumble, queuing you that it was almost your normal “lunch” time. You finished up your case note you were working on, grabbed your food from the breakroom fridge, and headed up to the roof. 

Lunch with Jack was always a highlight of your shift. No matter how shitty a patient had treated you or how many problems you had encountered that day, sitting with him for just a few minutes always made it feel like you were free of the hospital. Returning to your shift after those moments with him, the fluorescent lights turned softer and long hospital hallways less suffocating. 

It happened by accident really, the two of you becoming lunch buddies. You brought your lunch box up to the roof to get some air while you took a break. He was already up there, leaning up against the railing staring out at the city beyond the hospital. He wasn't expecting a visitor, didn’t encounter many others up there, but suddenly there was you. An angel of the night.  

When you pushed open the door of the stairwell to see him staring out at the skyline, you remember thinking that this man looked like a beacon high up above the rest of the city, standing steady and sending out a signal. Looking out over the whole city and asking who’s there? Free in the dark of night to admit that he was seeking connection. 

From the very first moment, you read him eerily well. And you approached. Because you were seeking the same thing. 

You struck up a conversation with him and offered him half of your sandwich. Kept doing so until he started bringing his own food too, usually whatever had the quickest doordash delivery time. He made you laugh with his dry and dark humor. Shared silence with you when you were both too tired to speak, or listened to you ramble about the book you were reading or some movie you had watched. Sometimes he had questions.  ____

“Have you ever heard of the Four Agreements?” he asked one night. You picked through some of the Chinese food he had ordered from the 24 hour place down the street, while he took a bite out of the apple you had packed. You chuckle a little at his question. 

“Why are you laughing at me?” he asks.

“Sorry– it's just. As someone who works in a mental health bubble, the Four Agreements is like… the bible of self help. And it's a little cliche.”

“You’re calling Linda cliche?”

“Who’s Linda?"

“My therapist. She recommended it."

“Look at you, doing therapy.”

He gave you a little shrug. “Thanks. So I shouldn’t read it? If it's cliche."

“No, no, It could still be useful. Give it a try.”  ____

He also surprised you with these bursts of intense vulnerability, sparsed out between his usually more gruff or sarcastic responses. 

Whenever he was about to reveal something to you, you could almost see it coming. He would always position himself next to you, leaning over on the railing and facing out over Pittsburg like he was that first night you found him up here. He wouldn’t look in your eyes like he usually did. Would just stand next to you there and focus on some point, far out on the horizon. He’d be quiet for a while, and you would just wait, just being there with him. 

____

“That guy we both saw today, the boarder in North 7?” 

“Yeah?” you encouraged him to continue. 

“I know him. Well not him, really, but his brother. We served together. He lost his brother the same day I lost my leg.” He pulled up the hem of his scrub pants a bit to reveal a glimpse of his prosthetic.

“Oh…Jack. I’m so sorry. That must bring up a lot of old memories.”

“It was a long time ago. Can’t change it now.” He wants to pull away from the exposure he felt at saying this to you. But you draw out something in him. Sharing with you is easier sometimes, and he doesn't know why. It's because he’s falling in love with you and hasn't let himself admit it yet.

“Doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt.” You’re always trying to encourage him to feel.

“Yeah... still hurts like hell. Hurts more because I hadn’t thought about Eddie in months, maybe years. I forgot about him.” 

You turn your head to face him, frowning. He maintains his gaze on some faraway spot. “You can’t blame yourself for that. If you remembered them all every second of every day you would drive yourself crazy.” 

He took a shaky breath in and just nodded. That was as much opening up he could take for the moment. “I gotta go back down there, check on the patients,” he says, letting the voice telling him to run win, for now.

You pause for a beat, trying to replicate his own incessant gaze that would always get you break and look up at him. The trick doesn’t work on its own master. He continues to put that distance between you and stares out at the city beyond the roof, then down at his feet. 

“Okay. But just be careful with yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to talk more, I’m here.” You jutted your hip out to bump his, trying to coax him out of his unease, show him that it was okay to open up to you. He stood fully up from the railing, giving you a double thumbs up. That was becoming his signature move with you when he didn't quite know what to say. He kept doing it because it always made you smile.  ____

Sometimes his appearances on the roof were just as scattered as his ability to show vulnerability. After times where he opened up you might not see him for days. He would go brood and throw himself into the work to get his mind off the memories, or off of you, when the way you were making him feel scared him a little too much. He would chastise himself for letting his feelings slip out like that. Would convince himself that you didn't want to hear anything about it, no matter how supportive and kind you were whenever he did share. 

Deep down he longed for connection, even though he actively pushed everyone away. 

Once you found him on that roof, finally someone was pushing back. You would come and find him if he didn't show up on the roof, or send him a message as you were heading up, pestering him to come join you if you could. 

And the way you responded to him showing how he felt, admitting what ate at him inside, it started to show him that it was okay to reveal himself. It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable, but still he kept coming back to have lunch with you. 

Tonight would be just like any of those other nights, he told himself as he hiked up the stairs to the roof entry. Just be normal. 

You were already up there waiting for him when he came through the stairwell door. The light midsummer night breeze blew your hair around your face and he sensed something heavy on your mind. Brooding on the roof was usually his forte.

As he approaches you barely register his presence. He places a hand on your shoulder, which makes you jump and turn to him. “You good?” he asks gently.

“Yeah–fine.” You shake your head and give him a little smile but he sees it's not the kind that you usually flash, the kind that's earnest. He doesn’t push.

“Well, if you weren’t good I would offer some crab rangoons as a pick me up.” He lifts his takeout bag up. “But if you’re fine then you don’t need em.” 

“Gimme that,” you snatch the bag from him and dig out the rangoons. 

“That’s what I thought.” the corner of his mouth twitches into an almost-there smirk. 

You two dig into the combo of takeout and packed food spread out before you. All of his nervousness from earlier in the day had dissipated. Up here, in the dark, just the two of you, he was calm. As calm as Jack Abbot could be these days. He lets himself think about being with you like this in the daytime. Somewhere else, like having a picnic in a park where you would admire the spring flowers and he would admire you with the same reverence. 

He had to ask his question, because failing would mean missing that chance. 

“You’re looking at me like that again.” you said.

“Like what?” he keeps his gaze locked on yours like if he blinked you would disappear. 

“I don’t know. I just recognize that look in your eye.” It's the look I get when I admire you, he thinks.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking if you go first.” You let out a huff of a breath. “Fine. I just… I guess I’m tired– getting really tired of all the roadblocks in my work. People always need more than I’m able to give them. Shelters are always full or the patient doesn’t meet some eligibility requirement and there’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“You’re doing everything you can with what you have, that’s more than most people. You rock it in there everyday,” Jack responds. 

“I know that, in theory. It’s just been harder and harder to believe it lately.”

“Well, I’ll keep reminding you.” 

“Okay, your turn.”

He scratched the back of his neck, then forced himself to look at you head on. “Uh, I’m going to have everyone from work over at my place for a barbeque. But I wanted to, uh, make sure that you would be there, with me. And…maybe it will help you decompress from work and everything.” It was as un-awkward as he could possibly make it. 

You found his subtle bashfulness cute. It was endearing to bring the steady Jack Abbot to jumbling his words. “I would love to come.” The biggest smile you've ever seen on him spreads across Jack’s face. 

“When’s the next Saturday you’re off?” he asks.

“Two weeks from now.”

“Then that's our party then.” 

You giggle. “Our party, huh?”

“Well you’re the guest of honor, I decided.” 

“Oh, how gracious of you.”

The banter slows, both of you feeling the tension of crossing a new line that you can't go back over. It's quiet for another beat, then Jack speaks again, quietly.

“Ellis is gonna be proud of me for this one.”

“What do you mean?”

“She told me I had no game, earlier at the beginning of shift. I meant to ask you then but got too nervous. So she gave me some pointers.”

That made you blush. You had liked Jack Abbot for a while, but did not want to risk your friendship on making the first move. You didn’t want him to think that your support of him was conditional on him reciprocating feelings. You could see him deeply struggling and cared about him, just wanting to be there for him. So even though you had butterflies tingling in your stomach more and more after each encounter, you tried to keep the relationship as professional as possible. After this– him asking you to come to his party like that, admitting it made him nervous to do so. It finally showed you that you could want more with Jack. That he wanted it too. 

It emboldened you, and you reached out to lace your fingers with his. “I like you the way you are Jack. It's okay to be nervous, but please just keep being you.” 

He squeezed your hand and nodded his head. “I think I can do that sweetheart.”

[sporesgalaxy]

hey I updated the Pierre Document. The document with all the information about which version of events I consider canon to Pierre. the Pierre document where i write down random shit all the time. that document.

posting this as im on the verge of passing out so i dont have time ti regret it yayyyyyyy

•••

Pierra's family are avid travelers, possible for mild-mannered citizens like them due to their home island Old Tool's status as a travel hub and their family history of working in the Marine shipbuilding and sailing industry. Thus, Pierra being taken along on a pleasure cruise with the rest of her family would be an unheard of luxury in most of the world, but it wasn't originally all that big a deal to Pierra.

Things took an unexpected turn after the cruise ship Pierra was on had already crossed the Grand Line (using sea prism stone technology) and entered the East Blue.

Since the East is supposedly the safest of the four blues, the hired Marine guards were lazy in their security measures, drinking and partying to congratulate themselves on crossing the Grand Line without incident.

Therefore the ship's protectors were woefully unprepared when the Buggy Pirates suddenly attacked! The Pirates were on their way to Reverse Mountain, and energized after reuniting with their captain and escaping Marine custody!

The pirate attack happened while Pierra was avoiding her family (and especially her mother) on a quiet part of the ship and quietlt spiralling into despair about how she has no idea what to do with her life. The terrifying pirate attack was almost a welcome distraction.

With no one she knew close at hand to worry about the safety of, Pierra's first instinct was to hide, and she was scared enough to employ the devil fruit powers she swore never to use in order to hide in an impossibly small space! This gambit backfired however, and to Pierra's acute horror, her hiding spot inside a crate of alcohol was taken aboard the Big Top as loot.

Pierra managed to stay hidden as a stowaway on the Bigtop for at least a couple of weeks. Then, the Buggy Pirates met Portugaz D. Ace, who managed to be the first person to notice the giant red centipede sneaking around the ship. Luckily for Pierra (who spur-of-the-moment decided to go by Pierre and "pretend" to be a guy), Ace is nice and believes Pierre when he says that he never meant to cause any trouble. And luckily for the Buggy Pirates, Pierre is down to his very core desperate for approval and has a lot of chitinous helping hands he's delighted to lend as long as you tell him he did a good job.

--------

Tiny Pierra lets ants crawl all over her. She watches them tear apart a dying grasshopper in the garden, piece by piece.

Pierra looks with wonder in her eyes at a rotting fish covered with maggots. At a dead baby bird that fell from its nest too soon. At a bag full of bloody ducks her father shot.

Pierra gets too upset sometimes, and too frightened frequently.

Pierra hides as often as possible.

When Pierra starts getting big, she wishes she was still small. She used to like squeezing into tight spaces; inside a box, under a small desk, under a bed. She doesn't fit anymore. Sometimes she feels like she's stopped fitting anywhere at all.

Pierra sneaks into other people's rooms when she's alone in the house, just to look around without disturbing anything. Just to hear the silence.

Pierra takes food she is not supposed to eat, just to get away with it. Just to test how far she can go without being noticed. Just to be unnoticed and forgotten on purpose, instead of as a reflex.

When Pierra is 16, she goes to the market with her mother. While her mother speaks to someone, Pierra breaks off a tiny piece of the most interesting fruit at the stand. No one notices her do it this time. Pierra chews and swallows the piece of fruit, and it tastes bad, but Pierra is pleased to have learned what it tastes like without permission.

Later that evening, alone in her room, Pierra thinks she is dreaming, or maybe losing her mind. She wonders half-heartedly if the fruit was poisonous and she is dying-- but she doesn't want to disturb anyone if she's wrong again.

So, she does what she always does when she thinks she is losing her mind: distracts herself and waits for it to pass.

It passes, eventually, but this won't be the last time. She learns that it's not madness, but the curse of a Devil. She learns she can't swim anymore. She prays for forgiveness. She tells nobody.

When Pierra gets too upset and admits it her mother a year later, she is begged never to transform again. To hide it forever, for her own safety. Human traffickers could be anywhere, her mother says, and Devil Fruit users fetch a high price. Pierra promises to keep hiding. Pierra wonders if it will be easier now, having someone who understands.

Pierra's mother goes back to acting like nothing ever happened. It doesn't get much easier.

---

"It'll be okay," says Pierra's mother gently, drawing her daughter into her arms. Pierra wraps her arms around her mother as well, because she is supposed to.

"We'll figure this out..." her mother continues, "...we can fix this."

Pierra stares over her mother's shoulder as she feels the last remains of her hope crumble away in silence.

That's it, then. Despite everything, despite so many years of cyclical disappointment and pain... Pierra's mother would not give up on "fixing" her.

She and her mother had been repeating this painful exercise for Pierra's entire life. Over and over, every year, every month, every week, for as long as Pierra could remember.

Pierra is so tired of trying to be fixed. She is tired of trying to be something she isn't. She is tired, so so tired, of letting down people who see something in her.

She had hoped that after such a spectacular failure as this one, her mother might finally give up on fixing her. She had hoped that her mother might start trying to learn how to forgive her, instead.

That hope was gone now.

Now, Pierra can see that her mother will never stop waiting for someone less disappointing to take Pierra's place. Pierra can see that her mother's pity will always be directed at the less disappointing person Pierra is certain she can never be.

Wrapped in her mother's arms, Pierra has never felt more alone.

"We'll figure it out together," her mother adds, squeezing Pierra's shoulders tighter.

----

Humans have to be taught everything. We're very good at learning. It's what we evolved to do.

Some animals have to be taught how to do things. How to hunt, where to go.

But many animals exhibit behaviors that are never taught to them.

Humans have a precious few. Holding our breath underwater, hanging on with our arms.

The less social the animal, the less learning it tends to do.

The more its behavior is ruled by instinct.

-----

Most Observation Haki users learn to tune out the auras of nonaggressive bugs, consciously or unconsciously.

Otherwise, their senses would be overwhelmed by spiritual "noise" from hundreds of tiny auras. The glut of information can make it harder to notice actual threats, and the easiest solution is to ignore typically irrelevant details-- i.e., bugs.

It's something like mentally tuning out the sound of cicadas in a forest when you are listening for a distinctive bird call.

In his centipede form, because of his skittish nature and typical lack of malicious intent paired with centipede instincts from his Zoan abilities, Pierre's aura usually registers as a genuine nonaggressive bug aura. It can therefore go easily overlooked, despite Pierre's large size.

Like if our proverbial birder was listening for bird calls, but Pierre was a bird whose call almost perfectly mimicked a cicada.

It takes a very skilled Observation Haki user and a very sharp mind to take in ALL auras in an area without tuning out small details like harmless bugs. To these sort of people, centipede Pierre can be detected just as well as anything else, and his large size will even cause him to stick out.

In the cicada metaphor, these people are sharp enough to identify any bird calls and count the number of cicadas calling at the same time. And Pierre sounds like a cicada...but not a species of cicada the expert listening recognizes. Thus, Pierre sticks out.

Pierre's attitude can also ruin his bug aura camoflauge. If he is too focused on anything besides his own survival, his aura ceases to be nonthreatening or buglike enough and he will no longer go overlooked.

For bird-Pierre, this would be like accidentally letting out a distinctly bird-ish squawk rather than the mimic-cicada call.

-------

B: [unlocking a chest] This poster better be the best thing since sliced bread or I am completely SCREW--

[Pierre is revealed to be inside the chest. Buggy gawks at him.]

P: I- I know how this looks!

P: But it's not the same as last time!! I'll leave as soon as I--!

B: [snotty, sobbing, frantically grabbing Pierre's shoulders] NO!!!!!! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!

P: !!!! [Pierre is wide-eyed and speechless]

B: [stops sobbing] wait a second.

B: [shaking Pierre by his lapels, angry now] Where the HELL have you been, Chucklehead?!!!

P: [being comically shaken around too much to form a response]

B: I haven't seen you since we got arrested on--!!!

B: [stops shaking Pierre, squints at him] .....OHHHHH.

[Pierre has no idea whats going on, is still being grabbed by the lapels]

B: [angry smile] [lets go of P and crosses arms] I see what happened!!!!

B: [vindictive] The government took back your pardon because they abolished Warlords!

B: [pokes Pierre in the chest] So after two years of thinking you're BETTER than me,

[Pierre's eyes widen]

B: You had no choice but to come crawling back!!! [flicks Pierre's nose] GYAHAHAHAA!!!

B: [patting Pierre's head condescendingly] Don't worry Chucklehead, I won't make you grovel. Much. [mean grin]

P: Wait, what?! [earnest] I-I'm not-- I don't think I'm above you, Buggy!! That would be crazy!!

B: [smug aura cracks slightly] Eh?

P: [sheepish] I'm surprised you even remember my name! A famous pirate like you must meet so many amazing people, I didn't think I'd stick out at all...

[Buggy gets smug again, and a bit flustered]

B: Well, heh heh...

B: [remembers he's mad] Then why'd you ditch me?!!

P: I-I didn't ditch you!

B: Like hell!!! All the Buggy Pirates got pardoned when I became a warlord, but YOU never came back!!

P: Because I'm not a Buggy Pirate?! I was a stowaway!

B: [gawks again, like "are you serious??"]

P: ...you...wanted me to come back??

B: [dodging the question] YOU'RE DODGING THE QUESTION!!!

B: What were you even doing for th last two years that was so much better than ME-- MY CREW!!!!!!

[FLASHBACK PANEL: Pierre on the Snail. He is saying "No, Mom-- I-- I DO want to be here. The science is really interesting, I just--"]

P: ...Well, keheh... [drags hands down face] ...Ugh. Trust me, I did NOT wanna be there.

P: So, when the navy caught the Buggy Pirates, they saw my Devil Fruit power.

P: [before Buggy can ask] I know I told you I've had this since I was a kid, but I never used it before I was with you. It was always this big secret.

P: Anyways, I was really afraid that I'd get in trouble for hiding it, so I told them I got the Devil Fruit on your ship and that I was a hostage.

[Buggy squints at Pierre. It's a good thing Buggy likes him and is exactly as cowardly]

P: They believed it, and I was hoping they would just let me go home, but they really wanted my Zoan powers, so I ended up stuck with the Marines...

[FLASHBACK PANEL: Marine representative says "You've got a unique ability, Ms. Pierra. Opportunities like this shouldn't be wasted! Please, consider our offer, at least--" Pierre interrupts: "I'll do it." He looks terrified and miserable as he says it. What's his problem?]

P: And that's where I've been for...two whole years.

[FLASHBACK PANELS: Pierre thinking "I have to get out of here." "I hate this." "I can't do this anymore." Pierre talking on the snail again, "Yeah, I'll look into research positions." "No, I haven't looked yet." "I've been really busy..." "I just haven't gotten around to it." "I still wanna do something different."]

B: Okay. So how the hell did you end up in my closet???

P: Uh.

P: They sent me with the guys who were supposed to arrest you, actually, but I ditched them.

[FLASHBACK PANEL: Pierre is on a Marine ship looking miserable and indecisive. Suddenly it is chopped in half by Crocodile. Pierre survives by hiding in a barrel & manages to paddle ashore.]

B: And you snuck all the way in here? On an island full of bounty hunters??

P: [manic grin] ...I guess!

P: I'm kind of just trying to not die right now!

P: Thanks for not killing me, by the way! Kehaha!

B: Kill you?? Of COUUURSE not, Pierro-chan!!!

B: [claps Pierre on the back] Why would I kill my own PERSONAL bodyguard!!!

P: ........HUH?

[minkieater]

spiderhead → yj

tattoo artist!yeonjun x fem!reader

smut mdni, cheating, alcohol consumption, toxic relationship wc. ~6k

the buzz from tattoo guns spread across the room as if there were a swarm of bees  — the shop was busy today. yeonjun’s mouth tasted of tobacco and menthol, his favorite combination, his index and middle fingers stained with the scent from years of use. he rain a hand through his hair, feeling the ends tickle his neck, before burying both hands in the soft, fleece lined pocket of his hoodie. 

he made his way over to his station, checking his tools, cleaning up the area so he could prepare for his next client. the steps whirled in his head as they always did when he fixed his area: wash his hands, put gloves on, sterilize his tools, cover his equipment, disinfect all surfaces. he loved this part, the organization, having everything accessible to make his art easier to complete. 

god, yeonjun loved his fucking job. just the plain idea of him drawing and coloring on people’s bodies, having his art stay there forever, it was magical to him. yeonjun knew in high school that he wanted to be a tattoo artist — he bought a shitty tattoo gun online, spent his weekends drunk in beomgyu’s basement leaving wonky doodles on his friends in places no one would ever see. at parties, people would beg him to whip out the tattoo gun, implore him to etch small designs on their skin on the big leather couch in soobin’s parents’ house. 

those nights turned into lonely ones spent in his bedroom, cross hatching lines into fake skin on his desk, shading with pointillism in designs he’d seen on pinterest, smoke from his lit joint dancing into the air of his bedroom. he had a year long apprenticeship at a tattoo shop in the middle of brooklyn when he turned nineteen, he tried college for a year when he graduated high school but quickly realized it just wasn’t for him. now, four years later, he was thriving: he was booked, he was busy, he was a real fucking tattoo artist and made real fucking money. 

he grabbed his phone to check the time before he started disinfecting, only five more minutes before his client was supposed to show. he scrolled his lock screen, eyes thinning when he read the notifications. 

v: did u turn the lights off before u left v: if my electric bill is high again just know you’re paying that shit

his lips pulled into a line, thumbs moving a mile a minute. 

yj: yes i turned them off yj: u dont have to remind me every single day 

he locked his phone and set it face down on the counter that ran along the back of the shop, packed cabinets filled with saran wrap, disinfectant and ink caps underneath. he shook his head, irritation flooding his thoughts, he’d left the lights on one time and now he’ll never hear the end of it. 

well over a year now, together but still not quite official — on and off but pretty much living together, yeonjun has spent more time in your bushwick apartment than he has at his own downtown. granted the shop was closer to your apartment than his own, but he’s always liked your apartment more, anyway. tall ceilings, funky art, maps and concert posters on the walls, a unique touch to your living space with your red lacquered kitchen cabinets and dark wood accents where his own looked cheesy and cheap in comparison.

two bedrooms, one full bathroom and a separate room just for the television and couch, yeonjun thought you were fucking loaded when he first stepped foot in your apartment. it had to be your parents paying your bills, or maybe you were a nepo baby – this is new york, after all – but as your relationship grew and he learned more about your occupation, how much you truly made between high commission and tips, he’d never thought a hairstylist could make so much fucking money. 

both of you in your careers, working full time with the public, both creative people that spend their days creating art that lives on people’s bodies. your canvases were humans, walking, breathing pieces of scrap paper that you drew on, painted on, poked, cut, shaded. the two of you related to one another too much in too many areas, on too many levels, so many conversations about people and their critiques, their wishes, their families, their stories. if you and yeonjun could do anything, it was talk. 

you’d met on your twenty first birthday, a little over a month after yeonjun’s twenty second. you and your girl friends and coworkers he later learned circled up on the dance floor with you in the middle, rolling your hips to the beat of the song, head tipped back in a drunken haze and a cocktail in your hand. he eyed you from the bar, thinking nothing of it other than the fact that you were a drunk twenty one year old about to be obnoxiously loud in his ear all night. he sipped his glass of whiskey, neat, tattooed fingers wrapping around the glass that dripped sweat onto his palm. 

the bar was hot, too hot for the outfit he had on — oversized black hoodie with the hood over his head, black pants, boots on his feet. he was dressed for early november in new york, layered to fight off the chill of brooklyn, not for whatever the hell was going on in his favorite bar. 

you approached him first, slurring over your words, tucking your hair behind your ear which was already tucked. you batted your eyelashes, your eyes glossed over in intoxication — yeonjun was not biting, he wasn’t interested in the slightest. he gave you a tight lipped smile, clinked his glass with your own and turned his attention away from you, a small gesture to say what you’re looking for is not me, keep it moving.

but when you strolled into his shop two weeks later as a walk-in and yeonjun had a cancellation, only then was he taking the bait, the bait you had no idea you were dangling from a hook right in front of his own two eyes. you didn’t seem to recall your interaction on your birthday, you didn’t seem to recognize yeonjun at all and that only made him curious.

you asked for a ruler along your index finger, two lines to show the public what two inches really is. he laughed at that, a small puff of amusement leaving his perfect plump lips just as the words left yours. 

“is that stupid?” you asked, head cocked to the side, eyebrows furrowed in question but your eyes wide and he swore he could see them shine as you looked up to him. he was taken then, from just that one look in your eyes – he knew he was in trouble.

“not at all,” he said as she shook his head, smile still dancing on his cheeks, “it’s funny, i’ll take you back.” 

you sat down on the bench, yeonjun went searching for a ruler in the cabinets lining the back of the shop. you spoke mindlessly about your job as he searched, immediately telling him a story about a client you had a few days ago who wanted a balayage and not highlights but they couldn’t decipher between the two — they insisted on highlights when what they were describing was clearly a balayage. you spoke with such enthusiasm, your mouth running a mile a minute, words spilling from your lips just as fast as you thought them. 

yeonjun had no idea what you were talking about but he knew you were adorable — much different from when you first tried to pick him up at that bar. your eyes are bright, words controlled, movements sharp and alert. what did stay the same was the confidence, your outward extrovertedness made it so yeonjun didn’t have to say much, just nodding and listening to your little story as he tried his best to keep his head on straight. 

“finger tattoos don’t last as long as they do on other parts of the body,” he interrupted as your story ended, finally pulling a small red plastic ruler from the cabinet to his left. 

you shrug, “i figured as much, my hands are in water a lot, too.” 

yeonjun sucked a breath in through his teeth, “that makes it even worse.” 

“so what, i have to come back and get it touched up, then? big deal,” your hands came up at your sides, shrugging altogether, “as long as you still work here when i have to get it touched up then it’s fine.” 

“already commending my work when i haven’t even done the tattoo yet?” yeonjun wears a lazy, teasing smile as he sits down on his stool, grabbing the arm rest for you to lay your forearm on. 

“who said i was talking about the tattoo?” yeonjun’s eyes shot up at you who was already wearing a smirk, his lips parted ever so slightly. he immediately cracked a smile, shaking his head as he looked back down to your hand. 

“that’s crazy,” he mumbled under his breath as he put the ruler up to your finger, then grabbed his pen from his tray to mark the inches. maybe you did know — maybe you were purposely dangling the bait, or maybe the two of you just had the same amount of interest in each other. maybe there was no bait to begin with.

“i don’t think it's crazy,” he didn’t expect you to hear him or respond, but it seems you don’t have a filter of any kind as you keep going, “you’re hot, i’m hot, we have a lot in common already.” 

“we have a lot in common?” he raised an eyebrow, looking up to you again after marking the second inch, he grabbed a different pen to mark the eighths. 

“we’re both creative, both work with the public, we have picky people as clients, have to listen to unrealistic expectations, both work in careers that aren’t super common — not common, maybe abnormal? or maybe i’m trying to say we can be abnormal because our careers aren’t super judgemental? appearance wise, i guess, whatever, anyways, we also both know how to talk to people, i can keep going…”

“so all we have in common are our careers?” he’s still playing along as he finishes marking out the lines, “how does that look?”

“looks good to me,” you say after a quick glance, barely an inspection of your finger, “pretty much, but our careers teach us a lot about ourselves. oh! and we can do art trades, i’ll do your hair and you give me tattoos.” 

“are you bribing me or pimping yourself out?” the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and the smile that paints itself on your face feigns innocence, he’d save that look for his sketchbook later tonight.

“maybe a little bit of both. are either of them working?” you cocked your head to the side again, swinging the feet that hung from the bench ever so slightly, careful not to kick anything in front of you. yeonjun had to reel himself in.

yeonjun had to be honest — with himself, and you — it started working the moment you stepped into the shop. you had no visible tattoos, a casual outfit on, sweatpants and a tee shirt that left just a sliver of skin between the hems of your clothes. your hair was done but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, you didn’t seem like anything special off first glance– in fact, you seemed the exact opposite of his type, the girls he usually went for. yeonjun was just as confused with himself as he was enamored by you. 

“i don’t know, i think you might have to try a lil’ harder,” he faked a deciding face, eyebrows scrunched as he moved back in his stool, ushering for you to stand up. he looked at your finger from all angles, analyzing it as you stood to the side, lifting your hands, flexing your fingers as you stood. he was happy with his sketch, his outline, he was more then prepared to freehand a couple lines. 

“you should let me try harder over some drinks if the tattoo comes out good,” your eyes were trained on your hand as you followed his instructions, moving your hands into every position he asked for. 

yeonjun laughed at that, “if the tattoo comes out good? what, am i the one picking you up now?” 

you shrugged as he ushered you to sit back down, “you might be, i’m trying to find out.”

he nodded with his lips pursed, folded into a frown that wasn’t exuding any sort of negative reaction, more impressed than anything. “fair game.”

your tattoo came out flawless, the lines he free handed onto your finger came out straight, perfect in thickness. as easy as it seemed, you knew the talent it took, the patience and a steady hand needed for such precision. after you paid, tipping him generously, your flirting returned with vengeance.

“i think we hit it off if i’m being honest,” you smiled, showing all of your teeth to the black haired man behind the counter, “do you have anyone else after me?” 

he shook his head, “you’re my last, i had a cancellation.”

“oh my god– do you believe in fate? yeonjun, i think that’s what this is, i’m being so serious,” your eyes were wide, eyebrows shot up, smile wide. excitement bled from you, your veins, you were nothing but honest. so shameless, not a thought in your pretty little head that he’d reject you – he wasn’t sure if you’d care if he did. 

he laughed, something he seemed to do too much during your entire service, his head hanging low in front of him before he picked it back up, looking at you who was already staring expectantly at him. “i don’t, but maybe if we go get drinks you can change my mind.”

you raised your fists, “i’ve won.”

the bar was halfway to your apartment, almost smack ass between the tattoo shop and your place. you’d been there before with your girlfriends, once or twice since your birthday – you could finally join in on the fun. yeonjun was dressed in all black, you’d soon come to find out he was always dressed in all black, and he never looked like he got enough sleep. you seemed so bright next to him, with your hair and your clothes and the plush keychains attached to your purse. you looked like total opposites, when you knew you had much more in common than what meets the eye.  

that one night bled into the next year of your lives – something he was not expecting after your first interaction. it’s not like he’s never had a client try to bag him before, but something about you was different, it drove him insane that he couldn’t put a finger on it. he was used to playing games, always the winner, never the loser. he was used to confusion, being stuck in the inbetween, the gray area that sometimes came with relationships, or lack thereof. with you it was so straight forward, a slippery slope, not a hole he dug himself into but instead a well, one full of water, full of life. he never wanted to stop drinking from it, gulp after gulp, chugging until he was so full he thought he might spill over. 

the spilling didn’t come until six and a half months in. your first two months were every man’s wet dream – he had every inch of you, every fistful of perpetually iron-curled hair, every corner of plush skin burned to memory – on every surface of your apartment and his. 

in yeonjun’s past relationships, he never seemed to be the problem. if anything, he was the victim.

small fights to massive blown out arguments over petty shit, staying out too late with his coworkers at his favorite bar to beomgyu stealing him for a night out clubbing, missed texts and phone calls to going MIA for three days. yeonjun never seemed to understand what the issue was – petty arguments were never his thing, he’d rather stay silent than give into whatever the fuck his current plaything was yelling about this time. so what if he stayed out too late with his coworkers? he still came home. there’s no harm in a night out clubbing with his boys, she didn’t even know about the girl that was grinding against his dick all night, or the other one that had her lipstick smeared across his lips in the corner of the dark club. he went MIA for three days because his phone was dead, not because he had her number blocked. it was ridiculous, really, the things women would try and pin on him – yeonjun never seemed to think he was the issue at all. 

the thought never crossed yeonjun’s brain that these behaviors were learned, or that he could teach them to anyone else. he never thought that his pretty, bright eyed new girlfriend would turn into a different version of himself – if she did, he’d be grateful, he thought himself pretty fucking cool – yeonjun never thought any of his behaviors were bad, but when yeonjun got a taste of his own medicine he knew he met his match. 

he showed up at your apartment past midnight, drunk off his ass, clothes oozing whiskey, weed and burberry her. he let himself in with his key, the one you gave him after three months in, the one you told him to use whenever he wanted. he called out your name, searching from room to room, but you were nowhere to be found. he’d never shown up to an empty apartment, there’s never been a lack of you, cuddled up in a fuzzy robe, either under your duvet or sitting on the couch watching reruns of your favorite drama. yeonjun was confused, his dazed head couldn’t think up a proper reason for your absence, he decided to do what he absolutely fucking hated to be done to him. 

he called you about thirty six times, texted you about forty two times. he also left four voicemails, not one of them nice. 

he sat there on your couch – after a much needed shower, a bottle of water and a change of clothes you kept for him in your bottom drawer, he sobered up real quick. he felt more level headed, but he couldn’t ignore the anger that began to grow, a pit that sat heavy in his stomach: where the fuck were you? who were you with? 

you damn near fell into the room an hour later, keys falling to the floor after you ripped them out of the door. you giggled to yourself, your heels in your hands, fingers curled into the heel of your black pumps. the strapless, sparkly scrap of fabric he could barely call a dress was crooked, your hair that was always purposely styled to perfection was a mess, your red lipstick was smudged down your chin. yeonjun’s seen this scene before, he’s done it, he’s lived it.

“who fucked you?” were the first words that left his mouth as he stood in the living room, oversized black clothes hanging off his frame like hade’s robes. the breath that left his nostrils was hot, burning his cupid’s bow, his jaw locked with his usually plump lips scrunched to a thin line. 

you laughed – you fucking laughed. “you’re a fucking psychopath, junie. i just came back from a night with the girls!”

yeonjun was not buying it – he stepped closer. the stench of alcohol was masked by dior sauvage, a smell he knew too well, a smell that drifted past him as you nearly pushed him out of your way. yeonjun was dumbfounded and raging, his eyebrows furrowed together, his hands held out in front of him like he didn’t know what to do with them. 

his girl, his only girl – well, other than the girl he made out with earlier – he couldn’t fathom the thought of someone else’s hands on you, being so close to you that you came home smelling like him. he followed you to the bathroom.

you were already stripped down bare – no bra and no panties to be seen on the pile on the floor with that thin scrap of fabric, yeonjun couldn’t collect his thoughts fast enough, his rage was creeping up his spine, sitting in his stomach like food poisoning, threatening to come out whether he wanted it to or not.

“you’re lying,” was all he could get out as you brushed through your hair, putting it in a tight knot atop your head, a small smile still sitting on your cheeks. he didn’t sound angry enough, his voice wasn’t stable, his feelings weren’t enough to give his voice ground to stand on. 

“no i’m not,” you said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, like your words were the honest to god truth. you turned to him, your best innocent look paired with that award winning smile, “wanna shower with me? or did you already when you came home from the club?”

yeonjun had a full body reaction, his eyebrows furrowed and his face scrunched up in disbelief and shock, for just a moment there he thought he might be insane. did he make that up? was the dior he smelled just remnants from being with beomgyu earlier? no, no he showered, that was all you. he was not insane. he stepped closer. 

the smell of a shower he’d taken just an hour ago filled the room, the body wash that you always used was the only scent he could decipher. he took a breath, “you fucked someone.”

“i think you might still be drunk, baby,” you wore a fake pout, raising your right hand to run your thumb across his bottom lip, “happy anniversary, by the way. six months!”

that was the start of everything – his pretty little bright eyed girlfriend was buried somewhere, six feet deep in wet soil, replaced with something akin to a fucking monster. when yeonjun first met you, you had told him you had so much in common, yeonjun didn’t believe it, didn’t see it. he thought the two of you were polar fucking opposites, yet he liked you anyway, liked that you introduced him to a new type of relationship. while yeonjun spent six months subconsciously teaching you his own behaviors, you spent the time purposely teaching him quite a few of your own. 

goodmorning texts to goodnight texts to facetime – yeonjun never did any of that shit before. yeonjun has never bought a single person a bouquet of flowers in his entire life. yet here you stood, his pretty little bright eyed girlfriend, in the middle of your salon surrounded by a herd of your coworkers with a bouquet signed ‘your junie <3 love you baby!’

his friends called him whipped, a simp, a cuck, every name in the fucking book because yeonjun adored you, and it was painfully obvious. you’d come to beomgyu’s garage, parading around in a mini skirt and your tiny little purse that yeonjun was sure only had lip gloss inside, getting him beers from the fridge and cracking them open, handing them to him with a smile and sitting straight on your throne: his lap. his friends adored you too, they couldn’t figure out what you saw in yeonjun – with his dark clothes, heavy tattoos that covered his body, bags under his eyes, black hair and too much metal through holes in his face. his friends were constantly flirting with you, getting you whatever you needed, they were the ones cracking beers and serving them to you, yet you were doing it for yeonjun. 

yeonjun was filled with pride, he loved it. a trophy they could look at but never touch. he’d never had this type of relationship before, someone so obsessed with him, someone willing to wait on him hand and foot, he slipped deeper and deeper into an emotion he’d never experienced before without even realizing it. 

the day he did realize it, that was when the true fun began, because while he was unconsciously slipping, swimming deeper into that well, you stood at the top, holding the rope, pulling bucket by bucket out of the well with that award winning, innocent smile etched into your skin. 

you weren’t kidding when you said you’d do art trades, even his coworkers knew your face by now, taehyun two stations down always offered his services when you sat down on yeonjun’s bench. you giggled and flipped your hair, saying why would i do that when my boyfriend’s a better artist than you?

god, yeonjun loved to hear those words leave your lips. it was a bit the two of you did, taehyun acted as if he was shot through the heart, a poisoned arrow slipping straight through his skin, and yeonjun could hear the sweet melody of your giggle through the shop. yeonjun has filled up one of your arms by now and half of the other– a garden, flowers, bees, butterflies, tattoos that were so undoubtedly you he couldn’t even make fun of you for them. he wouldn’t expect you to have anything else.

his favorite, though, was the YJ right above your hip. it was in yeonjun’s own handwriting, a doodle he marked on your skin for life, late at night after too many drinks – it was like he was in high school again. that was four months in. 

that night, yeonjun felt the closest thing to his entire world caving in on him – he needed to go. he stared at the scribble on your hip while his face was buried between your thighs, you were writhing above him, hands buried in his hair, you always looked so fucking gorgeous like that. instead of being focused on you, determined to push you over the edge like usual, yeonjun’s head was clouded – hazy. he wondered how a person he’d met by chance just a few months ago could become so important, so detrimental to his life, he feared he would be a shell of himself if you ever chose to leave him.

it terrified him. he’d never felt this way about anyone before.

before that night, your relationship was golden – yeonjun was something out of a dream, a hero, the prince in your story, you were convinced you’d spend your life with him. he was honest, he was smart, he told you everything that he had wrapped up in his complex, dark brain, and you accepted every word that came from his mouth, every thought that popped into his head.

when he left that night, hours after shoving a twelve gauge needle in your skin with ink the color of his hair, you didn’t stress. you woke with a panic, of course, where the hell did your boyfriend go? but after twelve hours of no response, a trip to his shop, a night spent in his favorite bar, hours bent over your ikea bed frame, you knew what this was. you recognized this fear, you saw straight through him, yeonjun wasn’t as masked as he thought himself out to be. you’d shared too much, you knew too much about one another for yeonjun to be anything but transparent. 

you paid attention. late nights, coming home smelling like another woman’s perfume, earrings that fell from his pocket when you did laundry, long and short pink and blonde and brown pieces of hair found around every inch of your apartment – you looked at the tattoo that sat above your hip, you knew there was no one else for you in the world. if yeonjun wanted to play the game, you’d play it too, you’d play it better. 

the first three or four or twenty two times you did it – yeonjun didn’t notice. you even sent him home in one of yeonjun’s tees, one of his favorites, one that you successfully convinced yeonjun he left at his own apartment. when he couldn’t find it there, it wasn’t your issue anymore – with half of your wardrobe in two different places, you’re bound to lose a shirt or two. 

it was only when you got sloppy, when you wanted him to notice, that he did. two months in, six and a half months after your relationship began, he’d caught you and you were so fucking close to convincing him that he didn’t. 

“we’re fucking done,” he was seething as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a plush beige towel around your torso, no effort needed to keep yourself calm. 

“why’s that?” you continued to feign innocence, stepping in front of the mirror to start applying your skincare, not even glancing at the man who stood next to you, his hands balled into fists. 

“i know you fucked someone tonight,” his voice was stern, it was hideous on him. you loved the cool, calm yeonjun better – you loved your yeonjun, the one you spent endless nights with, looking through his sketchbook, where he showed you all of his doodles, his drawings, when he let himself be the most vulnerable. “there’s no use in denying it, v.”

“and what have you been doing for the past two months, yeonjun?” your head snapped to look at him, your voice matching his, cadence slipping into something more harsh, laying yourself bare for him. you supposed your time was up. his mouth opened and closed. 

“great,” his head dropped, low, sarcastic laughter slipping from his lips, “you fuck someone and blame it on me? project your cheating onto me?”

“there’s no use denying it, jun. have you talked to beomgyu? maybe you should ask him what he did after he dropped you off.”

you physically watched his face turn red – ears hot, crimson bubbling up from his chest to his throat to his face – you had to stop yourself from smiling. he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, and you slept like a baby. freshly fucked, coming down from a solid drunk, you felt brand new. 

it was a week before you saw him again – honestly, you were shocked it took that long. that gorgeous, long black hair that curled around his ears, peeked from the hem of his hoodie, you longed to touch it, feel it between your fingers. he looked like he hadn’t slept since the last time he saw you, his bags sat heavy, dark, in your entryway, key in hand. you wanted to take care of him, wanted him to get a good night’s rest – next to you. 

you sat on your couch, not a muscle to be moved in his direction, the two of you just stared at each other from across the room. moments went by, you’re sure maybe a full minute, then he was pacing towards you. 

“hello?” you asked in disbelief and concern before he was pulling you up by your wrists, smashing his lips against yours. his lips tasted of whiskey, neat, cigarette smoke, menthol. you thought maybe you were addicted to tobacco too from the way his mouth felt euphoric against yours, an old friend you’d missed. it’s only been a week but it could’ve been a year for all you knew. 

“you’re mine, you know that?” he’d asked between kisses, his mouth swallowing yours, his tongue stealing the words you couldn’t begin to think let alone speak. instead you nodded into his lips, fingers tangling in his hair, body forcing itself into his, you missed him. you missed his smell, his touch, the feeling of him against you, you missed everything. you never wanted to part from him again. 

he had you split open on the couch as he knelt on the floor, head between your thighs again, eyes trained on the YJ that sat on your hip. he hadn’t seen it in a week, his brand on you, his initials that were inked into your skin for the rest of your life – he missed being between your legs, missed tasting you, missed taking everything you had to fucking offer. he missed you, his other half, the monster he created, his comfort, his home.

yeonjun would be lying if he said he was willing to part ways with you, but he’d also be lying if he said he was willing to acknowledge to the full extent of what he felt for you. yeonjun felt betrayed, played, messed with, like you snuck into his brain and plucked every single thought out of his head and fucking warped it. god, he loved you. he was so scared.

he told you as he barreled into you, fucking you like he hated you, whispering those words in a choked breath over and over into the shell of your ear. he couldn’t believe he was admitting it, couldn’t believe he was saying those three little words – you’re different, you’re everything. he loved you.

the months to follow were dancing right on the edge, together, but not quite. apart, but were you ever really apart? every night, wrapped in your sheets or his sheets – always someone’s sheets, always together. you never discussed sleeping with beomgyu, yeonjun never brought it up again, he looked back at that moment in his head and all he saw was weakness, a time where he let you slip away – let you get away from him. you never spoke of it, but it was always there, between the two of you like a wall. 

that wall that stood between you was tall and rock solid, unlike the glass doors to yeonjun’s head, yeonjun’s thoughts, that wall of his was unbreakable – even when he came home smelling like burberry her again no argument in the world could pry that night out of him again.

you knew better this time than to try with beomgyu again, he hadn’t reached out since the night yeonjun left your apartment, you knew better than to try with anyone. instead of fighting fire with fire, you got distant, you spoke less, you asked less, you tried less. you became the ghost of his pretty, bright eyed girlfriend, one that had been to hell and back, one that learned from her mistakes. you became a reflection of yeonjun. 

yeonjun checked his phone after his client, only two hours had gone by, surprisingly enough. it was a solid first session for his client’s leg sleeve, but his bones were aching, his eyes sore from being focused for so long.

v: you left the fucking lights on

[i-cant-sing]

Saya want know how Qasim look,are you have proposal?(≡・x・≡)

(pics below) Qasim, the brother, is older than reader by 5 years. He has chocolate brown hair, thick messy locks, and green eyes. He's gifted with eiditic/photographic memory which made him excel in school and he obviously had a high IQ as well. Doesnt mean reader thinks he's intelligent. Sure, Qasim is book smart, but he's not- street smart. Y/n has been the one to often make him realise that his friends were taking advantage of him by making him do their homework, or that they were laughing at him not with him because of his intellect. But reader chalks it up to his sweet nature, her goody-two-shoes of a brother who was hafidh (memorised the Quran) would always be the forgiving person. Its not that he was a pushover, he just... preferred to be the bigger person. Always. He'd chuckle and ruffle your hair "so what if I cleaned up their mess? it only took me 5 minutes and the job was done. Its okay, Y/n." He's always so selfless. You used to worry that he'd get hurt because he's too kind, you used to think he couldnt stand up for himself because he just didnt know when to- but no. Qasim was quite protective over you. When he saw you trying to tackle one of his so-called bullies, the boy towering over you (but you dont consider the height advantage, not when youre a raging kitten), Qasim stepped in and landed a single punch that knocked him down. (then big bro had to spend the rest of the day consoling u because you made him fight someone- and in ur head, that was the biggest sin u made him commit).

Qasim in Arabic means "the generous one" or "the one who shares", and being the older bro, he took his name quite literally. You were the younger sibling, the spoiled brat, the princess! But Qasim never had any problems with sharing anything with you, be it materialistic things or advice or even knowledge. You memorised Quran by his help (because u were competitive) and he had the extraordinary patience of a saint. You two would often participate in competitions at the local mosque just to get the cash prize and help your parents a bit (they never took ur guys money, encouraging u to either save it or spend it on something). Since both of your parents worked long hours, you two were left unsupervised for a long time and that only meant genius yet chaotic shenanigans, including prank calls to the pentagon hq.

Qasim grew up to get a lot of full ride scholarships from top colleges, and once he did his masters (a STEM major), he decided to start his own travel agency, surprising everyone because it seemed like something he wouldnt do? Everyone expected him to go into sciences, but he said he liked to travel and see the world, and Qasim told you that he enjoys running his own business, being your own business.

You supposed it made sense because he was a polyglot and he did enjoy learning new things and seeing new places, their history, etc. Due to his job, he would be gone for long months at a time, but he never returned empty handed. His arms full of souvenirs and sweets and BOOKS! Its not that he bought them for u, no. He bought those books for himself, but once he read them- he's already memorised it and he doesnt have anymore space in his home for more books, so he's always dropping them by your place (as kids, u made him memorise the phonebook before hiding the entire neighbourhoods phone books and had people pay to use your brother's memory for contacts, which was a good business until your father busted it down).

Qasim is the softest, kindest, most generous person. Even though he has a busy schedule due to work, he always made time for you. Whenever he came by, especially during your finals season, not only did he help you study, but he would also stock up your fridge and made sure to do some maintenance around your house. Fridge not working? Qasim has the tools, and if you werent so tied up with studying, you wouldve freaked out over him disassembling your fridge like lego. Sink clogged? No need for the plumber, Qasim knows the right potion of chemicals to unclog it. He's always been the one to prefer to do things himself, by his hand rather than relying on help.

what do u guys think???

[babysfirstpentagram]

What is Deity Work?

Deity work is when you open your energies and attention to a Deity you wish to engage in a working relationship with. Typically this is a give and receive type of relationship in which you are giving the deity offerings and the deity is giving you advice or help in someway in return.

Working vs Worshipping.

When you are working with a deity, there is either a verbal or nonverbal agreement that you are both contributing to the encounter. Either bein through offerings and knowledge or offerings and company. Worshipping is very one sided, when you are simply leaving offerings for a deity or entity and expect nothing in return.

Patron and Matrons.

A patron or matron deity is one that you have an extremely deep connection with. They typically helped you find your path or have helped you through a tough time. They appreciate offerings and such, however they have also stuck with you through low or zero offering times. In my case, Apollo is my patron.

How Does One Start Deity Work?

You have to know three things before you even consider deity work. Protection, banishing, and vetting. Once you have these three things down, then you may continue on researching the deity you wish to reach out to.

Step One: Protection.

You need to know how to protect yourself before you even consider deity work. This can be done by casting a circle, cleansing your space, and creating sigils. There are many other ways, but I seem to find these the easiest.

To cast a circle, you need to know a little energy work. You should stand in a quiet space with little to no distractions and focus on pushing your energy out around you. This can be aided with salt in a circle around your practicing space. Focus on pushing your energy out to the salt ring and hold it. Please note that if you leave the circle, the circle breaks and will need to be redone. This may take a few tries to get down, and it can be very tiring, so please give yourself grace.

Next is cleansing. Cleansing should be one of the first things you learn when you start your practice. Cleansing can be broken into two sections: intention and tools. It is semitrue that you dont need anything to practice witchcraft, but it makes things a lot easier.

When I cleanse, I only think my enchantments, but you can say them outloud if that helps you focus. An easy way I cleanse my space is by sound cleansing and cleaning supplies. I typically will put on an upbeat song that makes me feel happy and refreshed and then go to town with disinfecting wipes, a broom, and a Swiffer. Simply cleaning your space is a part of cleansing that is greatly overlooked. Other ways you can cleanse are through charged crystals, singing, dancing, sigils, and wands. Please find whatever works for you best, as everyone is different.

Speaking of sigils, they are super easy to make and can be made with whatever you have lying around. There are so many ways to make one, but my favorite way is to write down what my intention is and then I organize the letters of the intention alphabetically and cross out the doubles. I do a doodle with the remaining letters and boom, sigil. But you can also free scribble or look up a unique way to do the sigil. There is no limit to chaos magic. Once youve made your sigil, you can place it in your work space to aid in protection.

In lieu of a sigil, you can set up wards. I recommend everyone has at least one ward in their house. It wards away negative energy and are typically pretty simple to make. They can be a spell jar with protection as the base, or a satchel. Some people use sigils as wards, however the sigils need to be refreshed more often.

Step Two: Banishing.

Once you've gotten protection down, you can move onto banishing. Banishing is draining and very not beginner friendly, but is a necessity if you wish to work with entities and deities. It would suck if you accidently invited a negative spirit into your space and now you can't get rid of it. Here are a few steps you can take to banish.

One: Ask.

You can simply ask the energy to leave. Most of the time, passing energies or lingering energies (please refer back to cleansing) can get suck in circles and that is who you are talking to. They don't really want anything to do with you so simply open the circle and let them leave! An easy way to avoid this is to be very specific with who or what you want to enter your space. If you invite all of the energies in by saying something along the lines of "I invite anyone to speak to me," then you are going to get a lot of strays.

Two: Cleanse again

Okay, so you asked the energy to leave and they either ignored you or refused. It's time to cleanse again. You need to be more forceful with this cleansing, but not rude. "Please leave," may or may not be enough to deter them, but "I demand you leave," may seem too rude if the energy isn't actively harming you. My personal favorite is either "You don't have to go home but you can't stay here," or "I was expecting someone else, but thank you for stopping by." Very firm but not rude.

Three: Demand

So now you've asked nicely and firmly. You know this energy is not welcome and has intention of harming you. Cast a new circle, deep cleanse AGAIN and demand the spirit leaves. Candles are a huge help and if it is too much for you to handle on your own, you can request the help of ancestors or another diety you work with. Now you're allowed to be forceful.

The last step is vetting.

What is vetting?

To vet a deity is to make sure that it is who you think it is. In the realm if worshipping and working with deities and entities, vetting is extremely important so you know exactly who or what you are devoting your time and energy too.

How does vetting help?

It helps by ensuring you are speaking to the right entity. There are many trickster spirits out there that want you to believe they are someone else so they can gain access to your attention and energy. It would suck if you thought you were giving energy to a god or goddess and it turns out to be a trickster.

How does one vet?

This is a broad question that doesn't have a singular answer. My personal favoritr way to vet takes a while, because I want to be 100% certain that this is who I want and need to be speaking to.

1. I do three separate forms of divination for every encounter. I ask personal questions about deities like their symbols and offerings. If im using pendulum, I ask a few questions and I repeat them using different words. If I get the wrong answer (say, I were to ask if Apollos bird was a swan and the energy replied yes) I know its not the energy or entity I thought it was. I do this for multiple sessions to be sure. I also use tarot cards and ask similar questions. My last form of divination i bibilomancy. I open to a random page and read the first paragraph that catches my eye. If it has any symbols if the deity, I am a little more sure of who I am speaking too.

2. I meditate on it and open myself up to thoughts. I go completely off of intuition here and if I continually keep thinking of symbols or the deity themselves, I know I am speaking to the diety. This is something that took me a long time to get good at, so please be gentle with yourself.

3. Last, I go off of pure intuition. Sometimes, I just feel a wave if relief when I start to vet, where all my anxieties are gone, which is another very good sign. But please remember that this also took me a long time to realize, so be gentle with yourself.

When you first start deity work, please keep these steps in mind. I really dont want to see anyone start to worship a trickster under the guise of a deity. Be safe out there!

[theempressofthenile]

A READING FOR FEB. 2024 : THEMES OF THE MONTH; WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN? WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE?

Hey, so this is my pile reading for the month of february 2024. If you see this after this could still resonate however my focus was purely for feb. Anyways, I hope you all get the insight you need and enjoy this overall. Have fun!

PILE 1 - 'To give or to receive, that is the question'

Okay so for this group, you have to remember that to receive you also have to give something, but to give you also need to be reciprocated. Most people can only do one, but this causes imbalances over time. You must prepare for acts of service, keep up good boundaries to not be leeched off of, and to be open to receiving from which february is a good time to get what you need/want from others. Don't be afraid to receive because whats for you is for you, got it? Some of you may have to learn how to put in more effort by gift giving and just doing something for somebody you love. For others, your empress energy is kicking in and you can be fed all you desire if you just allow. Hope this helps!

PILE 2 - 'The Union of a Lifetime; Soulmate connections coming thru'

So for this group a very special encounter is coming in for you. Might be before valentines day or could be in the middle, after, etc. But one thing is for certain that the connection between you and them is special. Romance is in the air for some of you so I like that this came up in the reading, with this connection however they'll will be something you will learn from all of this : True Love. To be in love is one thing, to grow into is another. Each moment will be filled with love that grows like a plant. Each seed that was planted will show so much more than what met the eye many moments ago. You will learn to fall into love but in a way where you guys can bounce back up and remember why you guys came together in the first place. It's an energy where your love for one another means something deeper than what the world could describe it. Its something much more than what books you've read could be, it's honest, its raw and its full of power.

PILE 3 - 'Love is a Drug, but it's one worth keeping'

So for this group, Love is significant for you guys. Not just romantic like pile 2 (we'll get into that) but for you guys the idea of self love and community will be big on you too. You have to believe that love can be found anywhere. Not just in romantic partners. This could be something connected to a galentines event, or just simply hanging out with friends, partying and just getting to know new people. It's all about perspective. But for this group love can be around the corner, you just have to let go and believe you deserve it. It can all be yours if you just believe for it to be. Dont pressure yourself to get into a relationship at this time as the focus is mainly about you and not just other people. You have to know how to be a great friend and a lover at the same time, so try to find balance in that.

PILE 4 - 'Seeing is believing, but just make it worthwhile.'

So for this group you guys are connected to the cosmos, love it! What I mean is, you guys have an infinite amount of control of the reality around you. And you are very sensitive to the people and the world at large. For some of you, empathic abilities could be intensified during this time, and you could look to the moon for answers if you just let go and allow your intuition to give you the insight it is that you are seeking. Your mindset is going through transformation, and you are being called to be more open to dreams that can lead you to messages from your spirit guides, angels, the universe etc. This group should focus on practicing meditation and leaning towards cleansing tools for their aura. Doing egg cleanses, saging, sea salt baths, anything that will help cleanse their aura and their space is beneficial at this time. I'd get into that if I we're you ;)

Be more open to what messages you get, be it numbers, be it intuitive, be it from someone talking on television or through conversation.. Just listen out for the signs, you got this.

PILE 5 - ' I'm ready when you are, just let me out of these gates.'

So for this group, you guys are feeling a bit mad here. Could be going through a lot of stress, feeling tired, confused on what to do etc.. But wait, you have to listen out for divine messages (similar to group 4) and a lot of ideas you've had in the past are coming up to be noticed during this time. It's time to decide where all of this might lead, so do the work to figuring out what it is that you want for the rest of 2024 because this isnt the year to be playing any games. Planning and redirection is another theme for this group, because it's time to pick yourself up and put yourself where you've always wanted to be. Got it? Go slow, take your time, and remember you have the abilities to bring in your dreamed reality into fruition. Let go and break a leg! A Support group is coming in and you need to let people in so that you can grow in whatever it is that you're doing. Hope this helps!

[cowboypigz]

HIII OMG IM YOUR BIGGEST FAN!! headcanons for malleus x female reader who is alternative and likes DIYing and going to shows!

malleus w/ an alternative!female reader * . -

OK RIGHT SO FIRST OF ALL i think malleus would be really interested in alternative fashion once he finds out you're into it.

the guy alr looks alternative so.

he'd accompany you to try on clothes to help you find your style and even offer you advice on what he thinks works and what doesn't

i can see you subjecting him to a makeshift fashion show at ramshackle where you model all your outfits and he kind of just stares and nods in approval.

like listen, he isn't especially good with words but i think he'd always try to support you no matter what.

"right, okay - so what about this one?' "you look lovely." malleus replied with a rare smile. he seriously meant it - you looked great. "malleus, you've said that about all the other ones i tried on." you folded your arms, spinning around for malleus to get a better look at the outfit. "those looked great too," he said, tapping his hand against his thigh as he kept that same smile on his face. "i liked them all, actually." "malleus.."

as for your diy hobby, i think he'd be supportive as well!!

though he'd probably question you on why you'd DIY something like that when you could just buy it yourself.

(rich kid problems..)

and when you explained the reason you did so - explaining you just like making your own clothes - he never asked again after that.

in fact, i think he'd gain a better understanding of your hobby and try his best to like bring you little trinkets that'll help spice up your already limited arsenal of sewing tools.

it'd start off small with new little pincushions that he thought you'd like till it gets to the point you wake up one day and there's a brand new sewing machine from malleus on your bedside table that lilia delivered overnight.

i also think he'd love to stand off to the side while you work and hold stuff for you so your space isn't too cluttered and overwhelm you.

"would you hold this for a second, mal?" you muttered, eyebrows knitted in concentration as you held out a random piece of fabric for the man to take. malleus hummed in agreement, taking the fabric from you and holding it in his already full hands. "what're you making this time..?" he asked, inching a bit closer as he leaned down to look over your shoulder. "just touchin' up my battle vest," you replied without breaking concentration. "...is it always this easy for you to do this?" he asked, peering to get a better look. "it gets easier over time," you murmured, turning to look at the tall man behind you. "why?" "i..wanted to learn a bit more about it."

in all honesty, i dont think malleus is a stranger to going to shows at all.

lilia has definitely dragged him out of the house to accompany him so he wouldn't spend all day bed rotting.

the experience was..well, he didn't hate it.

i think he was just a bit confused on what he was supposed to do and he didn't even know who was playing so that didn't help his experience.

i think you introduced him to a band you're really into and he warmed up to it, he'd be wayyy more inclined to go.

like i mean obv he'd still go even if he didn't know the band but still!!

it'd be more fun if you two were mutually bonding over something together.

The only downside of going to shows is the loud sounds - that'd likely turn him off.

"can you see now, (nickname)?" malleus asked, he was currently holding you up in his arms so you'd get a better glimpse of the concert stage. "i can see them - i think..!" you replied, heart swelling with excitement. malleus felt a smile creep onto his face as you gushed about the band and how much more you could see. he figured he'd be more comfortable if he was floating however, the feeling of having you in his arms proved to be a bit too much for him judging by his heart pounding in his ears. "malleus - hey, are you listening?" "hmm..?" he asked, meeting your eye reluctantly. "oh..sorry - my arms were going limp for a moment."

overall, he'd LOVE your freaking alternative fashion so much.

i think he'd even get hyper-fixated on the story behind the alternative/punk movements too.

like you'd be randomly talking and he'd drop a fact he learned about the movement a week ago out of nowhere.

great boyfriend, great attitude and much support!!

[damnfandomproblems]

7061

Op, you are complaining about peoples writing while typing "cuz" perhaps you should write your complaints with the same standards you place upon hobby fanfiction authors. I am joking, dont worry. Here is my real issue with this post

And I'm not saying this to discourage people from writing. Most of yall should at least be 16 and I know for a fact yall can write better than this. I'm just fucking begging yall to stop putting absolute garbage writing up and to learn how to actually write engaging, immersive stories that people can read without having their soul sucked out. Attend your fucking English&reading class.

let me express to the best of my abilities, why you come across as an arrogant entitled bastard.

most sites require users to be at least 13+ and people can lie about their age. Bold assumption that most people you are speaking about are 16+. grammarly, auto correct and other tools may help younger people in general avoid the misspellings and wordings that may make it obvious they are younger.

People can not only be held back for a year or two in schools missing out on education they are assumed to know but also drop out of school, making it so that their education was limited.

If someone had a hard time by experiencing mistreatment within school, even if they did their best, they may not remember after leaving that class because of the stress they were put under.

Not every english teacher cares about teaching and not everyone will be able to learn in a class setting.

Homeschooling is an option but the quality is all dependent on the parents so still an english class or reading class may not help them or in fact it could be worse if the ones teaching them are also not that well prepared to teach english and literature

People with mental disabilities exist that may make it harder to communicate or to write down and eloquently express the story they have in their mind.

Your only exception was non native speakers but in my humble opinion having a certain standard for hobby literature and artwork with anyone, including native speakers is what kills fandom. Even good artists and authors will stop publishing if they feel it will not neet the standard that others expressed they only want to view.

You come across as entitled to others free time and no author or artist should take your words to heart because you cannot offer the smallest bit of understanding or empathy to peoples potential struggles or the simple fact that...

...Fandom is a hobby...

...not a business and not a career, no one gets paid unless it is legally questionable. Fandom is not a space that should be held to the same standard as commerically produced works.

If you want more higher quality fanfictions, do it yourself instead of spouting shit online to belittle others or pay someone else "But i said i am not trying to discourage-" but your intentions do not matter when everything else shows you are discouraging people and you are being vile to the treatment of hobbyists because you want top tiet commerically produced quality goods for free. You saying that did not make you less discouraging, it just showcased you are unaware of how your words came across and that you are blind to your own faults yet expect others to be held to your standard

I do hope i worded myself as clear and directly as i possibly could. I had to make sure you can read my words without feeling enraged at my grammar and spelling, it may not be immersive but tough shit because my dumbass aint a writer. Just someone who reads fanfictions and appreciates those who put time and effort publishing free fanfics

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[hislittlestar]

Hi! First, I want to start by saying I really like your energy and your blog. My mom is an eclectic witch, so I've been exposed to the stuff my whole life, but every time I try to get more into my practice, something happens where I just feel stuck. But this time around, I am determined to not be deterred.

I've recently been really interested in the various religions (I was a practicing Catholic over the summer but stopped), and the lore behind Lucifer. He's actually been on my mind so much these past weeks that I think I want to start devotional work with him (not this second, of course, I don't I'm in a good space to start that).

So I have some questions for you, if you dont mind.

How did you develop/practice your clairaudence? It's a skill I really want to learn, and I think honing that skill will help me to communicate with ✨️beings✨️ better.

Can deities/spirits hear your thoughts? Do they get upset by them? (I have OCD and a lot of my intrusive thoughts are sexual and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable).

How do I communicate with deities? I understand you can divination tools to receive their messages, but do I just talk and they'll understand me? If I say or do something weird, are they going to be upset with me?

How do I show respect to a deity (other than just basic decency you'd show to anyone)? Do I always call them by an epithet or Lord/Lady/King/Queen?

Sorry if this is weird ❤️

Hi, Anon! I’m so glad you like my energy and blog! I’m happy to answer your questions ♡

How did you develop/practice your clairaudience?: For me, this has been one of the most interesting and important parts of my spiritual growth. It is still something I’m working on and haven’t yet perfected, but I have made a lot of progress thanks to Lord Lucifer’s help. What he had me do is get into regularly practicing meditation, specifically working on developing the ability to clear my mind into a trance-like state. I have ADHD, so this has been quite difficult for me. Lucifer also had me get into listening to hypnosis files so I could learn what trance feels like.

To listen to Lucifer, I take time at night when it’s quiet, my lights are off, and I have white noise playing, to try and clear my mind of all things except for internally repeating Lucifer’s enn: “Renich tasa uberaca biasa icar Lucifer” over and over again. I clear my mind’s eye of all other images, only thinking of his sigil. At some point, I start to get new thoughts that don’t feel like my own, it kind of feels like mentally tuning into a radio station. At this point, I can start to receive full sentences from him.

He’s also taught me how I unknowingly experienced clairaudience a lot already, I just didn’t realize it was clairaudience. When receiving words from outside entities it can seem like your own thoughts, but it may be thoughts completely irrelevant to what you were previously thinking or doing and it may be in words you wouldn’t normally use. It’s not like having another person’s voice in your head. Though with practice, you can give that other entity’s voice its own pitch and accent.

Can deities/spirits hear your thoughts?: Yes, deities can hear your thoughts. Though I think they only start hearing your thoughts the more that you think about them. Like, if you think about a deity’s name just one time they aren’t going to care. If you start thinking about a deity regularly, they’re going to have more access to your thoughts (this is just my theory). I honestly struggled with this at first, it seemed like a real invasion of privacy. But, I’ve gotten used to it and even find it really sweet that Lucifer still loves me with all the insane thoughts he’s probably heard in my head lol.

Do they get upset by them?: Luckily, this isn’t something to be worried about! I also have OCD and struggle with intrusive thoughts, but deities can tell the difference between normal thoughts and intrusive ones. Even if you have the most awful intrusive thoughts, they won’t judge you or care. We also have to remember they aren’t human, they don’t experience emotions the same way that we do. They aren’t looking for petty fights with humans.

How do I communicate with deities?: Yes, divination tools are great (I prefer a pendulum with a letter board and tarot cards), but the best way to have a conversation imo is with developed clairaudience (Well, the actual best ways would be either astral projecting with a full out of body experience with the deity, or talking to someone who is channeling the deity, but those are harder circumstances to obtain). You can also just talk to them, but I’d recommend waiting until you feel their presence first. I’ve also seen that some practitioners write letters to deities and then burn them. Deities aren’t really judgmental, they’re super old and have seen their fair share of weird shit. And like I said, they don’t feel emotions the same way humans do.

How do I show respect to a deity?: Each deity has their own personality, so this answer will vary depending on the deity. Some wish to always be referred to as their proper title (I’ve heard this about King Paimon), while others don’t care much about that sort of thing. A common VPG is that Lord Lucifer is generally really chill. I tend to just use his title Lord the first time I refer to him in a post. His demeanor is quite relaxed and he tends to not even ask practitioners for offerings. I feel like the rule for any deity is to respect them like they’re your boss at a job. Some bosses are more lenient and easygoing than others, but they still should be respected. (I’m not saying your relationship with a deity should be like a boss + employee relationship, just that the deity should be held with high respect)

Oops, I yapped a lot, but hopefully this helps! I also recommend checking my #information tag and joining the r/DemonolatryPractices subreddit.

[daily-singularity]

Hello. I am here to ask you about their paralells and how insane they make you. Pretty please... you're the only one feeding us the good food...

Going insane. white knuckling my pen and paper. I will do my best to make this coherent, apologies in advance if its a mess!!

In the simplest terms both Gabriel and Hux are carbon copy assembly line units created by Huxlee industries for the purpose of colonizing planets and prolonging the human race.

Gabriel is a tool just as much as the Huxlee units are.

"Each individual was manufactured for a different societal function... The idea was to create a functional society that would operate flawlessly." - Gabriel Soma BIO

"Unlike human clones, the HUX-A7 required no food, no water, no sleep, and no life support system. It was created specifically for outer space exploration and the construction of colonization hubs." - HUX-A7-13 BIO

Gabriel was specifically designed by Huxlee for planet colonization. Outside of his time on Dvarka, I gather that Gabriel was in a permanent deep sleep/cryostatis. All of his memories of his family and childhood are fabrications- he has no real life or directives or experiences outside of his work on Dvarka.

---

Both were under the threat of termination, or reprogramming should they fall out of line.

"Dmitri’s not trying to help… he’s trying to get me to stop asking questions. What does he know? What’s he hiding?" - Tome 16, Memory 2998 (Gabriel Soma)

"It remembers its objective. It must assist the crew in terraforming Dvarka. Failure to do so will result in termination."- Tome 16, Memory 2665 (Hux-a7-13)

When Gabriel first starts noticing discrepancies in his memories, his crew's medic writes off his issues as "problems that dont exist", and gives him a drug that fogs up his senses. Its a clear attempt to force him back into subservience, a message of "Stop digging or else".

We're never able to find out what would happen to Gabriel if it became known that he found out about the fact hes a clone, but I gather he would be removed from the project. Terminated so he wouldn't spread panic.

--

After Gabriel finds out about the fact he's a clone, it's a lot harder to get more direct info on his mentality, since thats where his Memory archives end.

Neither of them have much experience with free will.

Due to the fact that both Gabriel and Hux were taken by the entity near immediately after learning they were a clone/gained sentience, it isnt much of a stretch to say that neither of them have experience with a sense of individuality.

Gabriel learns that his entire life has been a fabricated lie and then is immeidately shoved into a killing game. He doesn't really get that chance to come to terms with who and what he is before having to fight for his life.

Hux on the other hand, had more time to digest his new worldview. He was able to start forming his own desires and wants even if they were as simple as "Kill the inferior human worms who created me", or abstract as wanting to "the remake the universe in my image over infinate lifetimes"- whatever the fuck that means Hux. Its really unfortunate that he barely begins to form these desires before theyre all stripped away from him and he is once again forced into subservience.

---

I was gonna put like idk an insightful little footnote here, but i spent absolutely way to long writing this post. Anyways. Gabriel and hux are both tools struggling with a sense of self while being forced to kill or be killed.

Also. can Behavior please fucking explain to me why Gabriel was waxing poetic about the beauty and godliness of the machine that he watched slowly kill his entire crew, like goddamn ogling that machine, then he exploded it. and then like. went "ok damn still godlike."

I just wanna talk with whoever wrote this please. what was. what does this mean. i need to know.

"It had fabricated a new body for itself. Part flesh. Part silicon. Part human. Part machine. Massive. Powerful. Beautiful and majestic like—

An ancient God."

"Gabe raced across the meadow and into the forest. When he looked back, he saw the HUX emerge from the flames and smoke. Burning. Melting. Shrieking. Deformed. Terrible and wrathful like—

An ancient God"

[reanimatedmagpie]

Hey!! I absolutely love your work, your art, comic, designs, etcetc are just.. so SO good. ALSO, I was wondering if you possibly had any art resources? More specifically art resources for someone that’s just starting out. I would love to get into drawing but there are a million videos and books and articles out there and I have no idea where or how to start.

Art school would be amazing but gosh dang it I’m broke </3

first of all ive never gone to art school proper, or any real amount of college at all for that matter either, its not terribly hard to get ahead of your peers who do with proper work ethic and knowing where to look for, the 'self-taught' label is becoming increasingly arbitrary because the internet's made it all easier than ever to access if you know where to look

admittedly i was starting out at a very different time in the internet and speaking a different language, so i cannot quite recommend what i was using when i started between language availability and modern expectations of say video quality, however! i do have some pointers

at a glance channels like proko [though more so the older videos] are pretty handy but also

i can tell you what to look for and general principles

if youve not already, look up and commit to practice the way youre supposed to hold the pen for art. genuinely good for your artwork, but, more importantly, helps you strain your wrist less. considering especially in the beginning artwork can take a long time, you need to get into those habits early. look up wrist exercises while you're at it and try to warm up your hands before starting. it is genuinely exactly like sports you cant skip the stretch. /

look for specific things. 'get good at art in 10 days' is the same as 'get fit in 10 days' even if its not impossible to learn some very useful fundamentals in that time, you know thats not what they have for you. you need to be looking for things like 'color contrast' 'muscles of the leg' 'how to do cleaner linework' when searching on the internet /

I would avoid short form content or even just shorter videos altogether or anything with a super flashy presentation for anything but like, simple software tricks, that stuff is not really usually interested in teaching things as much as its here to get algorithm points. it used to be a lot less of a thing and i feel sorry for people that are learning with this so saturated in the space ngl definitely steer clear off pinterest too. they wouldnt need to cocomelon you if they had something useful. did you know straight up art lecture recordings are out there btw? /

if you want an overview of a broad variety of things you want a book. yes i know. they are all fairly useful i would personally say and if you do not have a library in your immediate area, did you know the internet archive lets you borrow books digitally if you have an account? for human anatomy i really recommend the morpho series, for animals my go to was Gottfried Bammes, and i cannot recommend the Understanding Comics and Making Comics for sequential art, but generally speaking, books often want to appeal to people that are just starting out, so most of them that have a technical drawing aspect at all will help a beginner in some capacity. if you dont yet know which ones are 'good' i generally recommend looking into ones that mention the author is an art professor in the back /

important note: sometimes people consider the text on the page in those books as filler and Only look at the diagrams. that's not the case, you do in fact learn things if you read it /

also when reading those books take care to not just copy down the process but try your best to understand why. its not so much what it looks like so much as the thought process behind it /

use gesture drawing exercise tools like sketchdaily.com [if you do not wish to see nude models make sure it's filtered to clothed] if you do not yet know what gesture drawing is, that's a keyword to look up /

The secret sauce to drawing any creature is its bones and muscle. Trouble with faces? draw some studies off of photos of replica skulls. struggling to get what the hell is happening with the neck? look up a diagram of the neck muscles. a lot of 'anatomy for artists' resources are ultimately just translations of the scientific fact, so if youre not finding anything good there, go to the source! ive been doing that a lot lately. /

watch speedpaint videos! i know they dont come up as often on youtube naturally anymore but you get a Lot of insight into things from watching people whose art you like [and even don't like!] draw /

Draw real life things from real life. your pet or perhaps family member or friend, strangers on public transport, buildings outside it doesnt actually matter what just that you do it. photographs lack real life depth information most people's eyes can capture irl /

i know it can be kind of difficult these days but you shouldnt discount or ignore traditional even if you are not planning to focus on it. understanding of irl art mediums is really valuable even if you plan on being primarily digital because the less predictable nature of them builds confidence and helps you be more present among other benefits. its one of the many reasons youre not gonna find life drawing classes that allow students to just whip out a tablet /

hang out with your artist peers! ideally in spaces where people are actively making something like OCTs[Original Character Tournaments], game jams, even fandom spaces can work though i do not recommend that last one so much because they tend to be less interested in you as a person and more just seeing free art of their favorite guy and arent very friendly to beginners ngl. best find spaces specifically for original work, people tend to be more supportive there.

there really isnt a strict order in which you have to learn things. you can in fact go all in on turtle anatomy for a while if thats what interests you, why not, etc. but some good places to start are, in no particular order

anatomy of the face

anatomy of the torso

rotating cubes in 3d space [volume and perspective. generally not that scary i just find people overthink it a lot and get anxious]

how motion works[even if youre not at all animation inclined]

composition, color, contrast

various linework techniques, various panting techniques

mammal anatomy, bird anatomy, reptile anatomy, bug anatomy's nice too

basic plants, basic buildings, basic machinery

Anything deeper than that will be dictated by your own interests, this is just what would make you a very adaptable generalist. look up references whenever you struggle, study things you find visually cool, let your interests guide your research for the most part

but also, if i were to call Anything my big cool piece of advice, it's don't just sit around and aimlessly wait for your art to get 'good enough' to do something cool. start some little projects [and i do mean little. like under 5 pages of comic, a silly animation to a Short sound byte etc] and look up what you Directly need for them try your best. like a one day project, then a three day project then maybe a week long one, etc dont go right into anything long term right away, get practice finishing things first!

[youd be surprised what comics make you draw too, my last thing just had a random model t car in it for fun]

Because nothing, and i do mean nothing will teach you to make art in practice quite the same as making even a tiny project featuring the thing you want to learn

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I Can Be Your Antidote Tonight (You Were Finished Universe)

I Can Be Your Antidote Tonight (You Were Finished Universe)

Indie Rocker!Eddie Munson x POC!Indie Rocker!Reader “Sug” x Fuckboy!Steve Harrington

Early 2000s Indie Rockstar AU

Summary:

Sometimes you need a reminder that we’re all at least a little broken inside. Time is fleeting. We should be making the most of it living instead of just surviving. 

Warnings:

18+ MDNI, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Feels, Notes of Fluffiness

Notes:

Just a reminder this is a universe where the reader is a singer. This little series is dirty and naughty but also very heavily inspired by music and will feature performances. Whether you can carry a tune or not, just know in this world you hit every note. That being said this fic is HEAVILY inspired by Disease- The Antidote Live by Lady Gaga. I do not own the rights to this song and any lyrics used will be bold. Please go listen to the song as it really does enhance the experience. Happy Reading Heathens.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Banner by @cafekitsune

Eddie and Steve have been working themselves to the bone. Leaving little time for anything else. D&D and the band are on pause due to Eddie's erratic schedule. Date nights are practically non-existent as your boyfriends have become like some type of work vampires. Dead to the world when not on the clock. As if the sun had just risen in the sky.

Now, you like to think that you’re an easy going partner. Low maintenance if you will. Life's a bitch and all that, so all you require is that when you're together they’re present and in the moment with you. 

That's hard to do when they're barely here. 

You feel the ghosts of their presence more than the warmth they used to fill this home with.

Their workload is taking its toll on more than just your love life. You can see the bags formed under their eyes. The hollowness that has crept back in and muddied the chocolate pools of brown that used to sparkle with joy. See, the thing with our demons is, they never quite go away. They sit and wait for the perfect moment to weasel their way back into our veins and wreak havoc on our souls once more.

Eddie's demons have always been loud. Attacking the soft fleshy bits when he's most vulnerable. He thinks you haven't heard the night terrors take control when he is deep in sleep.

Steve has to pop a pill just to be able to slow down his mind enough to sleep. A dangerous game of how many will it take tonight.

You feel helpless. Like you’re watching them slowly be poisoned behind the glass of an exhibit. 

This disease needs to meet its end. If you've learned anything from your time on this little marble floating through space. Music is a powerful tool. A magic all its own.

You are going to need to call on that magic sooner rather than later.

Voice don't fail me now.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for getting the boys each a day and night off. I don’t know how you did it but, I am in your debt.”

“Don’t worry about it, really. Steve was starting to freak me out.” Robin replied.

“And Eddie looked like he was one minor mistake away from a car falling on him. It needed to be done.” Dustin added in.

“Hopefully after today things will get back to normal. Wish me luck.”

“Like you need it.” Robin scoffed. “Go fix those boys and dont get a hold of us until everyone is returned to normal.”

“Catch ya on the flip side.” Dustin calls out before you all hang up.

With a calming breath you head to the kitchen to start your plan while your boyfriends catch up on some much needed sleep.

As you plate the last pancake there is a soft knock on the door. Wiping your hands on your apron you rush over to open it. A smiling Argyle greets you. Arms laden with a keyboard piano and stand.

“I have brought the goods you requested. Be gentle with them.”

“Thank you Argyle. I know the rules. I work at the same store, remember? I’ll bring them back when I return to work in perfect condition. Promise.”

He just gives you that goofy smile of his and places the instrument on the couch for you to set up yourself. Letting himself out as you go to check the bacon cooking in the oven. It has just the right crispiness so you pull them out to cool down. Allowing you to get the keyboard in place in the living room.

Content with the placement you head back to the kitchen and begin setting two plates. Sneaking in bites for yourself along the way. Just as you are finished setting the table your alarm goes off on your phone. Throwing off the apron, you head down the hall to your bedroom.

The boys are still blissfully slumbering. You hate to wake them but you’ve let them sleep in long enough and you are eager to get through what you have planned.

Leaning over, you kiss Eddie’s head first then Steve. They stir but settle back in for more sleep. So then you kiss them on the mouth until they start to rouse and reciprocate.

“Rise and shine boys. I made us breakfast. Tables already set. Let’s get some food in ya and then I have something I want to show you both.”

Eddie’s stomach chooses that moment to start growling.

“No objections here, sweetface.”

“Can we stay in our sweats? I really don't feel like getting dressed today.” Steve yawns out.

“Clothing is as optional as you want.”

They quirk a brow in your direction as you saunter out the room.

“Hurry! Before the food gets cold.”

“What’s with the keyboard in the living room? That part of what you need to show us? You been working on a song without me, sweetcheeks?”

“It is part of that, yes. And how could I work on any music with you when you’ve barely been here and when you are, you're half dead?”

“Fair. Fair.” Eddie nods.

“Why don’t we put our dishes up and I can show what I’ve been working on okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve agrees.

Once everything is put away and the boys are seated on the sofa. You take your place at the keyboard and turn to them.

“Now. This is still rough. I haven't perfected the music yet but the lyrics are what’s most important. So please just sit back and listen. Any questions or comments save for the end okay?”

They look at each other and then nod their agreement.

With a steadying breath you close your eyes and begin.

There are no more tears to cry I heard you beggin' for life Runnin' out of medicine You're worse than you've ever been   Screamin' for me, baby (Ah-ah) like you're gonna die (Ah-ah) poison on the inside I could be your antidote tonight (Ah-ah) screamin' for me, baby (Ah-ah) like you're gonna die (Ah-ah) poison on the inside I could be your antidote tonight   I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease If you were a sinner, I could make you believe Lay you down like one, two, three Eyes roll back in ecstasy I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya (cure) Cure your disease   You're so tortured when you sleep Plagued with all your memories You reach out, and no one's there Like a god without a prayer   Screamin' for me, baby…  

You continue to let the emotion flow from my vocal chords as you lay yourself bare before them. Offering them a respite for their inner torment while you expose your own. You’re unaware of the tears leaking from your eyes until they choke you up as you sing your final notes.

Placing your hands in your lap, you turn towards your boyfriends. Unable to cast your tear stained eyes upon them just yet.

Like a broken spell, the fog weighing them down lifts. Finally able to see the evidence of your combined pain before them. Begging them to let you cure their afflictions.

Eddie reaches you first. Falling down on his knees. Tears in his eyes as he lifts your chin and presses his forehead to yours.

“Oh baby girl. I'm so sorry I let myself get lost again.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Maybe so, but it's still not fair to you.”

Steve moves to join him on his knees. Pulling your hand out of your lap and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I'm sorry too. I was just trying to get through to the other side where I could have my life and time back.”

“Just like I told Eddie. It's not your fault.”

“Don't make light of the situation to spare our feelings. We neglected you.” Steve corrects.

“Now let us make it up to you.” Eddie wipes a tear from your cheek. “We can be each other's antidote tonight.”

A small smile emerges at the glimpse of your Eddie finally breaking through.

“What was that one line? Lay you down like 1,2,3. Eyes roll back in ecstasy.” Steve adds.

“That sounds like the perfect place to start.”

It’s like some kind of switch has been flipped by your little musical intervention. Your once sullen and worn out men have seemingly vanished. Allowing for their more lively and sinful sides to resurface.

You don't quite remember how you ended up sprawled across the tossed covers of your shared bed, but right now you couldn’t care less. Not while their hands roam across your skin. Eddie's dexterous fingers tracing delicate patterns along your thighs that ignite a symphony of sensations from his well earned calluses. 

Steve’s thick fingers dance across your collarbone and down your decolletage, before teasing circles around your areolas. Making your nipples tighten and stand at attention as they go ignored. 

Every tender caress is a silent promise. Each specifically placed love bite, a mark of passion and desire. 

It’s a slow dance of intimacy, you have yet to feel from them together before. 

Has Eddie spent an entire morning worshiping your pussy? Yes. Devouring you whole, and draining every sweet drop he could from your honey pot until he had his fill. All without asking for anything in return. There was no need as the act alone of you coming undo from his talented tongue had him making a mess all his own hands free.

Steve enjoyed spoiling you in places you’d least expect it. Where the risk for exposure was high. His fingers buried deep in your cunt while you tried to have a conversation or order food. Making sure you soak his fingers before he finally removes them and finds a reason to lick them clean. Taking every chance he has to run them under his nose to get a fresh hit of your essence. Until he gets you underneath him where he could gaze into your eyes as he loses himself inside of you.

To be at the center of such love and devotion is slightly overwhelming. In the best of ways. 

You are surrounded by their warmth. Right leg hitched over Eddie’s thigh for comfort as they take you at the same time. Eddie filling your pussy while Steve buries himself in your ass. The air is filled with quiet moans and soft pants. Echoing the rhythm of your hearts beating in staccato. 

Time seems to dissolve around you. The late morning leaking into the afternoon consumed by the essence of your reconnection. A moment that feels almost magical. 

Your reunion deepens. An exquisite harmony of trust and exploration as you renavigate the boundaries of pleasure together. Creating something new where intimacy reigns and every touch tells a story. 

A sacred space that binds your souls together in a tapestry of desire and devotion.

You can feel yourself drawing closer to a powerful climax. One heat will pull you apart and reform you anew. You want to take your men along the ride with you. With a graze of your hand along Eddie’s jaw, you pull him in for a kiss. Dancing your tongue along his until your lungs ache for breath. Only to turn your head and pull Steve down to do the same.

As much as this seems to be all about you, you feel the need to remind them that they need each other too. So you bring Eddie’s head up to Steve’s and watch with rapt attention as they share a much needed kiss.

You can’t help but squirm at the display. Practically fucking yourself on the cocks still buried within you.

That gets their attention. Breaking the kiss they turn to you with devilish smiles. Eddie grips tightly to your thigh. As Steve slides his arm between your breasts and rests his hand around your throat.

With a glance to each other they begin to pick up their pace. Working your already primed muscles into overdrive. It’s not long before you’re coming apart around them. Voice unrecognizable as your overcome with pleasure.

Their rhythm becomes erratic. Groans of pleasure surround you as you feel the first splashes of warmth filling your insides. Setting you off once more as you milk them for all they are worth.

A slight sheen of sweat covers the three of you as you lie in the rumpled mess you made of your bed. Content smiles and labored breaths shared between you until Eddie opens his big mouth.

“You sure you're not some kind of Siren, baby girl? That alluring voice has the power to bring a man to his knees, determined to right his wrongs.”