#i don't think the lines on the tattoos actually work like the beads do at camp but I like to update all of them to mark the passage of time

[the-algebra-thing]

you can call me apollo and give me all your fears of the future

annabeth is there also obv. who do u think is taking the photo

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Sailor Outfits and Cigarettes

Warning: Smut, smoking, dirty talk

18+ MINORS DNI

I like the idea that Steve hasn't really slept around that much, but he also likes sex too so when he realizes that he also likes men, he's just like: "Just more people added to the list of possibilities." Like, he realizes before Scoops Ahoy. He's working, and he's going outside for his break when he stumbles upon Eddie Munson smoking. He either just made a deal or was waiting to make a deal. Steve tried not to smoke too often, but he needed one today.

"Could I borrow a cigarette?" Steve asked.

Steve couldn't help but take a real good look at Eddie. It was the hottest day of the year, so Eddie was actually dressed for it. He wore a gray crop top and ripped black shorts that showed off his thighs. Steve could definitely imagine those thighs wrapped around him. His long hair was pulled into a bun, but there was still some hair sticking to the back of his neck, glistening from the sweat. He followed a bead of sweat as it trickled down his skin, and Steve wanted to lick it, to drag his tongue across the skin of his neck, then down to the tattoos peaking from his top. It was a thin top, and he could see his nipples as clear as day. He had piercings. Shit. Steve felt his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck.

"Um. . .no," Eddie said.

"Do you not have another cigarette?" Steve asked.

"I don't give out cigarettes to rich boys in sailor outfits," Eddie said as his eyes raked over his outfit, and Steve could tell by the way his eyes darkened that he liked what he saw.

"What if the rich boy sucked your dick for one?" Steve asked.

Eddie nearly swallowed his cigarette, coughing and spitting it out when it landed in his mouth. Steve tried not to look amused by it.

"Um, don't you work in a mall? Why don't you go in and buy yourself a pack?" Eddie asked, his face red.

"Well, at this point, it's more about sucking your dick than anything else," Steve said as he moved closer to him.

"You seem comfortable in your, um, -"

"Bisexuality?" Steve asked with an amused grin. "I stopped caring about what these mindless assholes think about me or who I like to fuck."

He seemed to move closer to Eddie with each word. He was so close to him now that Eddie could almost taste him. He could almost feel Eddie's skin against his own.

"Have you ever fucked a guy?" Eddie asked.

Steve moved in front of him and put one hand on the wall by his head. Eddie swallowed.

"Almost. I was about to go down on a guy when he panicked and decided to go back to his wife. Though I didn't know he was married. So, no, I still haven't fucked a guy," Steve said.

"Um, I haven't, uh, done anything," Eddie said.

"Not even a kiss?" Steve asked.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Look at me. No one wants this."

"I am looking, and I like what I see. You're hot," Steve said.

"You're just saying that because you're horny," Eddie said.

"I'm horny because you're so damn hot," Steve said.

"Seriously, people hate me. Why aren't you one of them?" Eddie asked.

Steve leaned down to whisper in his ear, his breath tickling his ear.

"You can push me away whenever you want to," Steve whispered, his lips brushing his ear. "I think the reason people hate you is because they're afraid of how much they want to fuck you, how much they want to be fucked by you."

"Man, that's some ridiculous shit," Eddie laughed.

Steve bit his earlobe, and Eddie groaned. Steve could feel him trembling.

"They look at you, and all they see is how wrong you are. They're raised in a world that tells them they have to be absolutely perfect, not a hair out of line. Then they see you strutting down the sidewalk with that slutty little waist with those clothes that scream 'tie me up and tear me apart.' Man, they look at those hands, with those rings, and they want them wrapped around their throat as you try to stop them from screaming your name. They want to writhe under you and ride you like a stallion. They know you're wrong, but they think, 'Oh, I bet he tastes so good'," Steve whispered and licked a stripe up his neck, tasting the salty sweat on his skin.

Eddie groaned and rolled his hips up to grind against Steve’s.

"Fuck. . . I think I'm about to cream my shorts," Eddie groaned.

"Can I check?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded.

"Fuck, yeah."

Steve unbuttoned his shorts and slipped a hand inside, wrapping his hand around Eddie's length. Eddie crashed his lips to Steve’s and Steve moaned, then broke the kiss.

"Oh, baby, yeah. You're hard. . .is this for me? Just for me?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, just for you, sweetheart," Eddie said as he moved against Steve’s hand.

Steve kissed him, slipping his tongue inside as he massaged Eddie's cock with his hand. Eddie was so close to coming. So close. The backdoor to Starcourt opened suddenly, the door banging open.

"Seriously! Harrington! I am in there working, and you're out here macking on some girl!" Robin shrieked, and Steve broke the kiss. "Oh."

"Seriously, Buckley! I was almost there!" Eddie exclaimed.

"UGH! Harrington! Get your ass back inside!" Robin exclaimed.

"We'll pick this back up later, baby?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Definitely," Eddie said.

Steve walked towards the back door and paused.

"I, uh, have something to take care of first," Steve grinned. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Ugh! Fine!" Robin said, and Eddie went to follow Steve. "Munson, what do you think you're doing?"

"Helping Steve take care of it. Wouldn't want him to walk around the parlor like that, would you?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Listen, Harrington, I don't care who you fuck but if you leave me alone in there for too long I will find you and kill the both of you!" Robin exclaimed and walked off.

"She's nice."

"Isn't she?"

"Let's go take care of you, baby," Eddie said and slapped his ass. "Damn, that thing is bouncy."

[alisa-nyx]

A Stitch in Time

Suzuya Juuzou x Reader

Content/Warnings: sfw, fem!reader, fluff, meet-cute, embroidery, slight blood mention.

Words: 1k

Synopsis: When the café is empty you can't help but work on one of you embroidery projects. What you don't expect is for a random, and rather cute, customer to appear and take interest in your embroidery.

A/N: Suzuya is one of my favourite characters in Tokyo Ghoul and the fact that there aren't many fics for him is breaking my heart. Also I don't know how alive the fandom is (since I'm new to it) but here we go!

The café is utterly empty except for you. Soft instrumental music playing in the background as you stay behind the counter, just in case of a customer appearing. Not like you are paying much attention to your surroundings as you are working on one of your embroidery projects, improving a simple black tank top you got some time ago. Making it more… you. And embroidery was your thing. You started a few years ago after seeing some videos online and got absolutely fascinated with it. The way you can make beautiful art with just a needle and thread, it's… It's just beautiful. Of course the first tries and the little practice projects you've done always ended with bloody fingers at how many times you pricked them with the needle. But every time you got better at it. And now you're not even stabbing your fingers anymore. Getting more confident in your work-craft that even the apron you are wearing at the moment has flowers embroidered on it.

That being said, you are so focused on your work that you don't even notice when the café's door opens, the needle in your hand being the only thing you can see, the music the only thing you hear.

"Hello?" startled you look up at the person and prick your finger as you were mid-stitch. 

"Ouch!" you whine before putting the project aside, remembering you are at work and have to do your actual job. "Ah, sorry! What can I get for you?" you ask, smiling at the dark-haired boy who only looks at you curiously. You can't help but notice the little red… tattoos…? Under his eye and lip. There's no way that's thread, no? 

"Are you okay? That looks like it hurt," he asks, looking at your hurt finger where a bead of blood already started forming. You only shrug, continuing to smile as you answer him.

"I'm fine, it's just a little prick anyway," getting a napkin you fastly wrap it around your index finger to hide it away. "So… What can I get for you today?" you repeated but the boy seemed more interested in what you were working on before, actually leaning over the counter to look at your half-embroidered tank top then he looked up at you again, more so at your apron.

"Hey, are you the one who did the flowers on your apron?" he suddenly asks, shifting to face you, his big red eyes full of curiosity and wonder. A little too close for your liking and making you flush just the tiniest bit.

"Yea—Yeah. Why?" 

"I like them! Your stitches are very precise. You must have a lot of practice." he states smiling, and that somewhat takes you off guard. In the six months you worked at this café no one has ever complimented your work. Or even noticed that you are the only waitress with a different apron.

"Oh, thank you," you genuinely thank him, deciding there's no harm in entertaining him for a while. You two are the only ones here anyway. "Do you like embroidery?" the boy's smile widens, the gesture pulling at the red lines under his lip that you are starting to think are actual pieces of thread stitched into his skin.

"Yes, something like that! I love sewing and stitching! See!" he excitedly says lifting his right arm to show you the stitches on it. And only then do you also finally notice 'x's on his neck. You freeze, slightly off put by the display, and shiver at the thought of needle puncturing skin. How can you do that to yourself? Is the first question going through your mind. Then: do they hurt? Of course, they hurt idiot… But are they still hurting after healing? Are they like tattoos or piercings? Paining you when they are done but after healing you don't even know they are there? The boy's smile slowly fades away at your stupefied gaze. 

"You're—"

"Do they hurt?" you blurt out before he can continue, your eyes roaming over the red thread on his arm.

"Not really," he states. "Tho I'm kinda insensitive to pain." 

You nod, slowly processing what he just said. "You sure do love stitching." just like you love embroidery. You can somewhat understand him, though you could never do that to yourself.

"Mhm. Just like you do embroidery." he hums approvingly, seeing how your face shifts from concerned to gentle. And just like that his smile returns. "What were you working on?" and his curiosity too. You couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped you.

"Just adding my touch to a tank top," you say glancing at the tambour hoop holding the fabric in place. "Do you wanna see?" 

His eyes practically sparkle at your question, an immediate "yes!" following. 

You laugh again, revealing the half-finished piece of a white snake coiled around a golden crescent moon, little stars sprinkled around.

"Wow!" the boy exclaims, leaning closer to take in every detail. "It's beautiful! The details are amazing. How do you get the stitches so precise?" you slightly flush at the compliment, smiling wider as his enthusiasm rubs on you.

"With lots of practice and patience," you answer while he still analyzes your work.

"I'd love to learn how to do that!" and you find yourself laughing once again. 

"I could teach you if you want." you offer in the heat of the moment, deciding that you like the boy and wouldn't mind spending more time with him.

"Really!?" the sparkles returned to his eyes that are now solemnly focused on you. "I'd love that! When can we start?" 

"Whenever you want. We could do it here after I finish my shift or on breaks. This week I'm on the early one and next week on the afternoon shift," you say and he nods excitedly.

"It's a deal!" he says thrusting his hand forward and you shake it while chuckling, putting the embroidery away.

"Deal," you confirm smiling. "By the way, I'm Y/N Y/L," you say totally aware of the nameplate on your chest but you still want to present yourself appropriately.

"Juuzou Suzuya!" he says, pulling his arm back.

"Nice to meet you, Suzuya!" you say, still smiling.

"Likewise Y/N!"

[dzpenumbra]

8/3/23

AGH I CAN'T STOP WORKING! I only have 3 more beads to go! I really wanted to get to bed early tonight because I'm really tired but... I just can't stop now, I'm so close. I already Brillo-prepped them too, so all I have to do is the final buff.

Alrighty, that only took about half an hour to wrap up. The beads are all done, they look great and they're all strung on a doubled piece of hemp for now. It was so long ago that I prepped these... I don't even really remember my plan. I think I was going to make this a knotted bead necklace, but I don't know if I wanted to add a clasp to it or have it be closed. I don't know if I have enough beads for that. I guess we'll see tomorrow.

Big day, lots of accomplishments. I woke up after about 5 hours of sleep, but got back to sleep pretty quickly, didn't even get out of bed. That was a relief. I had dreams about being with my ex, which was... difficult. And alien. But I shook that off and started my day. Yoga was nice today, I did some Factorio over first meal.

I went straight to work on my griptape to finish it off. I loved the vibe of listening to Heilung and painting on the floor, so I went with their live album. It's really good. All I had to do today was the highlights, and I knocked that out. Did a big photoshoot and... it's done!

Then I decided to relocate my suncatcher to a position where it can catch more light throughout the day. Where it was, it only really caught light between 5-7PM. I'm hoping this new spot will give it more light access. I had to run a string through an eye bolt mounted in the ceiling. That eye bolt was about 16 feet off the ground. So I took a big line of hemp twine and tied a rock to the end of it, and reached it over from my loft about 6 feet out to the eye bolt with one of my carved staves, and fed it into the hole with a second staff, the one I usually go walking with. It was a hell of a workout holding two oak branches by the hilt, trying to maneuver a rock through a 1" diameter hole like 5-6' away. But luckily, I picked a good rock. It fit snugly, but I got it through and it worked first try. So that's all rigged up and good to go, and super adjustable too.

Then I showered and headed out to the skatepark. When I got there, there were 6 people there. A group of 4 kids that looked college age, and two people closer to my age that looked like a couple. I did my usual thing, showing up on my hybrid board with the AirPods in, getting my trick board out of my backpack, finishing my apple and then off I went. It's weird going to the skatepark by myself when everyone else there is a group. For me, at least. And I'm actually starting to wonder... are my AirPods sending the wrong message?

Like... I keep my volume super low and transparency mode on for safety, if anyone wants to chat I can hear them clear as day. It's a really good habit to stay in, especially when riding on streets, so you can hear cars coming. But I'm kinda wondering... does me wearing headphones send the message "don't talk to me"? Because today was the first time someone talked to me, and I feel like it was almost a fluke? Meh, that's too harsh. It was entirely thanks to her, it was 100% the woman's initiative that made it happen.

This chick who... is most likely younger than me but somewhere around my age... was standing next to me when I was skating a low box. I was really bashful being one of the worst skaters at the park. I can talk all day about how skating is not a competition and it's just you trying to improve. And I bet most of the people at the park did not give a shit. But I was pretty self conscious, I often feel like I'm just gonna get in the way or something, it's... not helpful thinking. And you know, sometimes I have good days and I don't care at all... and some days I have days like today. But I pushed through it.

The woman was short, blond, very thin. Like... almost concerningly thin. And had a lot of tattoos, including a face tattoo. This wasn't the first time I saw a face tattoo in person, but the first time I saw a decent sized one, and on a female. And it was a new experience. I'll put it that way for now and elaborate in a minute. She complimented my grip tape and I said "thank you, I did it myself." And she seemed genuinely blown away, like she legit didn't believe me. And I was like, "yeah, I did," and then said, "I'm a professional artist." I really don't know why I keep adding in the word professional. From the second I got home I've been trying to convert kicking myself over that into... "it would make me feel more comfortable if I dropped the 'professional' part. I can just say I'm an artist, that's fine." It's always the little things that get you caught up, right?

She immediately asked if I had an Instagram. I was literally going to post my progress photos of making the grip tape before leaving, and I decided not to so I could get more skate time. She gave me her phone and had me add myself to her Instagram. The whole thing was just, so goddamn alien to me. Just having another human speak to me, let alone a female around my age, let alone a human in person in close proximity to me, and having an actual conversation... it was just... I got really "what do I do with my hands" pretty quick. But that was a cool moment, it meant a lot to me.

However... yep, there's always a however... my anxiety was on the prowl today. And what I'm realizing... it's not a fun realization, but it's important. Some of the most important are the least fun, I'm starting to notice. Anxiety is... judgement. It kinda has to be, right? Like... anxiety is a defense mechanism put in place to keep you safe, right? So... what anxiety does is scan the information it's receiving and... forms a judgement of whether that is safe or a threat. Information = speaking in front of 1000 people. Anxiety = you might screw up, you might do bad, people will laugh, people will emotionally hurt you because of that. Reaction = piss yourself and avoid. So, anxiety functions as an intermediary step between information gathering and reaction. And it is quite literally a step where you are judging and categorizing info based on your past experiences.

So... what I saw was... a super thin girl, like gaunt-in-the-cheeks thin, with a face tattoo and... a big scar on her shoulder. And my anxiety reminded me that I'm in a city now. And flashed back to last summer when my highschool "best friend" told me vivid horror stories - I mean straight out of Trainspotting or Requiem for a Dream horror stories. And flashed back to the last person I met on the side of the road, who was obviously high as fuck. And I got anxious. I was afraid she was a meth head or something. I feel bad for making that snap judgement. And hell, maybe she is, who knows? But like... was it really fair of me to be cautious around her when she had given me no reason to be afraid?

I often feel like a dog that has been adopted from a shelter. Only... I haven't been adopted... I'm just sorta... out here. Alone. Trying to human, somehow. I'm always trying to keep myself safe, at all times. Wow, it's almost like I have PTSD or something, weird...

But yeah, I feel bad about being judgmental. And... despite her being around the same ability level as me... I tried to keep a little distance from her because she was there with a guy. The guy had a buzzed mohawk and was really good. Like... I'm always just in awe when I get to see talented skaters in real life, and I get so intimidated. I really hope to get over that some day. But it's just how things are for now. But I tried to keep my distance from the chick because... I didn't know if they were together and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. I obviously have pure intentions and I'm just trying to make friends... but yeah. Anxiety can be very convincing.

So... I just kinda went back to skating, doing my thing. I got a lot more comfortable with the FS half cab. I'm really starting to understand it a bit more now. When I try to whip it around, it just does not work. But if I just sorta... pop and hop, and not worry so much about facing forward right away? It works pretty smoothly. But what completely made the trick for me was just facing backwards while I set up. That just made the trick possible.

I did some pretty long boardslides on an old railroad tie that was there. But that thing was sticky as hell, and I'm not brave enough to wax something at a skatepark, honestly. Not that I have wax... I got a bit more comfortable with my nosemanual position, but I'm still figuring it out. I did a few runs of ollie onto a small box and FS 180 off. So yeah, more practice. And I had a good time. I think I was there for a good hour and I was the last one to leave.

When I left, I passed by the couple who were waiting for a ride. The guy and I exchanged our first words saying "have a good one", as I rode by on my hybrid board like some kind of cyberpunk hippie. XD After all that intimidation and "not wanting to upset him", he seemed very nice. Then I was back in bliss-mode riding down the roads with tunes on, carving and cruising. That thing is so much fun to ride, I swear. My only complaint is that my back trucks might be a tad bit too loose, but it keeps me going at a slow pace so its not so bad. And then the couple passed by me again about 2 blocks down, and we all waved at each other. So that was a good vibe to end on.

So the whole like "I was being judgmental and distant and kinda anti-social" self-flagellation didn't really start until well after I got home. And I've been pretty good at keeping it productive. I think a good habit to get into is... instead of going "why did I do ____, that was dumb..." Let me give an example. Introducing myself as a professional artist. I was kicking myself because of that. I don't like it, but when my depression and my anxiety team up... I'm severely outmatched, so... sometimes I don't win. What I'd like to do is... instead of going "why did I introduce myself as a professional artist, I have under 100 followers and she can see that, that's embarrassing," I would like to try... "ooo saying 'professional artist' is a little difficult for me right now, maybe next time I can just say 'artist', that might feel a bit more comfortable." I think that's a much more gentle way of going about it, and it's actually actionable instead of just being harsh and self-disciplinary.

Self-discipline is fucking useless when you don't have context or a plan. It's just punishment for having experienced something. It's useless and harmful. The most important part of any uncomfortable moment like that is... integrating the lesson learned. Focusing on that, rather than dwelling on the mistake portion and laying into yourself, is a really good way to break self-abuse cycles. Not easy to do, but it does good.

So, for example... I was being harsh on myself for judging this chick. Specifically, for judging her because of her scars, which she obviously can't help. And... getting personal (but I mean duh, it's a journal...) - it kinda reminded me of an ex of mine that used to cut herself. And that... was a difficult memory. Let me be super clear here, that association of mine? That's not fair to her. But it's part of what happened for me. And my self-protective centers started screaming "be careful, be aware, you've seen this before, she might self-harm".

Welp. After I got home? I skimmed over her Instagram. And she had X-Rays from a broken collarbone. And I mean fucking shattered. And I just felt so fucking bad. And I was like... I mean, in hindsight, it's hard for me to even understand how I would jump to a conclusion that someone would cut or burn themselves in such a visible and odd location. But... trauma brain does weird shit, and swears it has the best intentions.

So... what I'm struggling to do is find a way to convert that... I mean, it's clear I'm still beating myself up over it and I still feel shameful. But that's not only not healthy, it doesn't lead anywhere. I just beat myself over it until that part of my brain is tired or moves on to something else. That's... not a great way to live life. So... I'd like to actually get a lesson out of this. And I think the lesson is to not judge quite so hastily. Not assume so much.

I think a huge part of that is isolation. A huge part is being alone and having to keep myself safe. And lately I've just been erring super on the side of caution. So... I'm giving myself forgiveness for this, it's been a struggle lately. And if I see her again, I guarantee she will have had zero idea any of that happened. She probably just thought "oh, he just wants to skate," and then went and skated herself.

I just so often feel so compelled to apologize to people for things like this. Because I have so many fears of the judgement of others myself, that I have to brute force through just to take the trash out sometimes. Judgement of my skin condition. Judgement of the unique combination of frankincense, nag champa and dragon's blood that I wear instead of deodorant. Judgement of me being 36 at a skatepark and struggling to ollie on a 8" box. Judgement of be having AirPods and a hybrid board. The things that some people (like me) would go "holy shit, that's really cool!" (remember, that's a judgement too...) That force has kept me in isolation for a long time. And the more that stuff like this happens? The more I realize that those judgmental anxiety fantasies? They live in my head. That hyper-judgmental force... lives inside of me.

It lives in other people, too. Sure. Don't get me wrong. The "former friend" I was talking to the other day was being super judgmental of entire demographics based merely on... a font. Which... ironically... was the exact demographic he was from... He was ripping on "fake blue collar" people, who don't even know how to use tools and shit... and I was just... it took everything in my power to not be like... "dude, I have met your parents and been to your childhood home that was in the suburbs! I've lived here way longer than you have and I've only lived here since I was 11!" And it started to hit me. And I bet this is like... a thing, you know? Projection... right?

To find something repulsive or terrifying in others, outside of ourselves... but it's really the repulsive or terrifying thing within us. And despite me often being compulsively compassionate, I often find myself being harshly judgmental. Not nearly as much as the past, and not even a fraction of a shadow of my parents... but it's there, and it showed its ugly face today. And honestly? I'm not sure how to manage it.

Because being judgmental? Profiling people? It can keep you alive. It can help you read a situation where, otherwise, you would've gotten mugged. But being in survival mode 24/7 is no way to live, and no way to build any form of relationship. Be it a partnership, a friendship, or even an acquaintanceship.

So yeah, a lot of thoughts today. But the big things of the day - finished the grip tape (phase one), finished the beads, strung the suncatcher, and posted a photo time-lapse of the grip tape to Instagram. With music I wrote in the spring, too. Finally found use for all those random riffs I write. Time lapses, social media videos.

So yeah, feeling a big sense of accomplishment. So... I'm going to actually let myself feel that for a minute because I'm realizing... I've kinda just been turning all of this into a life lesson and I haven't really taken time to celebrate victories here. I met two new people, and they could very well turn into new friends if they frequent the park and live nearby. I finished the mandala on my grip tape. I finished the beads. I did some circus act stringing a rig on my ceiling hook. I posted one of my art pieces in a public forum. I got a lot done, and I should really be proud of that.