#Bio Hazard cleaning

[nirvanamanagedservices]

Nirvana's Comprehensive COVID and Biohazard Cleaning Services

Safeguard your premises with our fully managed COVID, fogging, and biohazard cleaning solutions in the North West of England and North Wales. As we navigate the transition to a post-pandemic era, ensure the safety of your staff, visitors, and customers with our expert services.

Our state-of-the-art fogging equipment, powered by disinfectant solutions like Byotrol, eliminates 99.99% of pathogens, including viruses, bacteria, and yeast spores. The 'fogging' process covers every surface, providing thorough disinfection and peace of mind.

We employ ATP testing to ensure hygiene levels meet standards, swiftly indicating cleanliness levels. Additionally, our biohazard cleaning addresses hazardous waste, minimizing infection risks promptly and effectively.

Contact us today to discuss our COVID and Biohazard Cleaning Service and take proactive steps towards a safer environment.

[c4tto626]

also remembering the filthiest club restrooms i've ever seen rn lol

[reddesertbiohazard]

How To Ensure Bio Hazard Clean Up in Springville, UT and Las Vegas, NV?

An instance of crime or self-inflicted injury on-premises, as well as accidents, can result in traumatic outcomes. Sure, the entire area will be awash with investigative personnel, reporters, and curious onlookers, but the onus of cleaning up after the crowd has abated is on the property owner. The authorities do not undertake such a responsibility, though. Trying to vacuum it and remove the stains with the aid of conventional cleaning products would be foolhardy. It is essential to hire certified and well-trained professionals for biohazard cleanup in Springville, UT, and Las Vegas, NV, instead of trying to do it with janitorial services.

There is more reason to be concerned about meticulous cleaning when there is blood, bodily fluids, fragmented tissue, and chemicals in the area. The dangers of biohazards cannot be overlooked in any circumstances, either. One must remember that such materials can affect one's health adversely as they:-

Carry pathogens capable of causing death or serious ill health due to HIV and hepatitis

Cause infections resulting in hepatitis A, C, and E. Coli. This occurs when bodily fluids remain for a long time in the area

The professional team will arrive suitably clothed in PPE and carry sanitized and effective equipment to ensure a thorough scene cleaning. The trained team will be aware of the safety protocols and take extra care to use the following as needed:

· Personal Protective Equipment (PPE)

· EPA-Approved Disinfection Products

· Government and Law Institution Protocols

· Safe Transport and Disposal:

· Documentation and Record-Keeping

The cleanup team will not only ensure good health for all concerned individuals in and around the biohazard-containing area but will also save both time and money for the other occupants of the building by using the following measures for:

· Efficient risk prevention strategies

· Proper disposal of contaminants

· Time-saving

· Reducing stress

· Prompt and effective removal of all biohazards

This is not all, though. Prompt removal of all hazards also goes a long way in preventing structural damage to the building. The blood and other hazardous materials will not seep into the structure when they are addressed with alacrity. Apart from reducing the deterrent effects of biohazards on property, sanitization and deodorizing of the area prevents malodors, too. This can go a long way in preserving the structures and helps the homeowner retain the property's value. Moreover, certified cleanup professionals adhere to strict protocols, helping their clients steer clear of legal complications.

Using a professional team with the know-how about safe crime scene cleanup in Provo, UT, and Henderson, NV is vital for homeowners and commercial property owners. The ability to reduce cross-contamination and prevent the further spreading of pathogens makes such teams a must-have for individuals and entities who face the shock of having a crime committed inside their premises. Apart from cleaning up the crime scene effectively, the trained team has the expertise to deal with curious onlookers firmly but politely.

[acleanerimagerochester-blog]

Water Damage Restoration: What to Expect During the Restoration Process

Water damage restoration is a complex process that requires a professional to handle it. When dealing with water damage in your home, it is essential to know what to expect during the restoration process. Here are the steps involved in Water Damage Restoration:

1. Inspection and Assessment: A professional will assess the extent of the damage and determine the necessary restoration steps.

2. Water Extraction: The professional will remove standing water using pumps and vacuums.

3. Drying and Dehumidification: Using industrial-strength fans and dehumidifiers, the professional will remove any remaining moisture.

4. Cleaning and Sanitizing: The professional will clean and sanitize the affected areas to prevent mold growth.

5. Restoration: The final step is to restore your home to its pre-damaged condition, including any necessary repairs and replacement of damaged materials.

By hiring a professional for water damage restoration, you can ensure that your home is restored to a safe and healthy condition.

You can rely on a team of experts at A Cleaner Image for Water Damage Restoration in Rochester, NY. We can handle any task with our proven techniques and advanced equipment. Call us, and we'll be there immediately. For more information, visit our website: a-cleaner-image.com

[biopros247atlantaga]

Bio Pros 247 Atlanta

Crime Scene and Bio-Hazard Cleaning Services in Atlanta GA

Compassionate and Certified Cleanup Pros

Bio Pros 24/7 offers services in Alpharetta, Marietta, Sandy Springs, College Park and the greater Atlanta Metro area, call (404) 301-5100 for immediate service. Professional cleanup services are required for unexpected biohazards that may threaten individuals’ and communities’ health and well-being. Typically, a professional cleanup service is compassionate, discreet, and efficient, to minimize any further trauma incurred by participants; this might include visibility and onlookers. We offer remediation services for biohazards, unattended deaths, infectious diseases, and more. Our services operate to a high standard and ensure the area is properly disinfected and free from harmful pathogens. Some of the services we offer are outlined below – If you need a professional cleanup service run by discreet experts, we can accommodate most situations. 

Unattended Death Cleanup In Cobb County, Dekalb County, Fulton County and Gwinnett County

-The unexpected death of a friend, neighbor, or loved one is a tragic event that can affect us profoundly, mainly because we may be unprepared for the news or discovery. The aftermath of such a death may require a professional cleaning service, not only to return the residence to its former condition but to ensure there are no pathogens or body fluids in the area. A professional trauma cleanup service will clean, disinfect, and deodorize the affected area, returning it to a safe and livable condition.    

Homicide & Suicide Cleaning – Professional and Discreet call (404) 301-5100

The discovery of a homicide or suicide is tragic and deeply disturbing. If you find yourself in this situation, you may be mentally and emotionally compromised for some time after. The vicinity where the tragedy took place needs to be professionally treated, ideally be a crime cleanup service. A professional service will quickly and discreetly clean and disinfect the area, returning it to its former condition as promptly as possible. This is the best response to such a tragic event.  

Biohazard, Virus and Infectious Disease Cleaning and Decontamination in Metro Atlanta

Infectious disease contamination may be caused by bacteria, viruses, fungi, parasites, and pathogens. They can be airborne or live on surfaces in affected areas. These biohazards are often invisible and difficult to detect, making a biohazard cleanup service a good option if you suspect contamination. A professional service will deliver biohazard remediation and communicable disease disinfection. This service differs from crime scene cleanup as it focused more on eliminating the spread of dangerous pathogens.   

Vehicle Biohazard Cleaning

In situations such as unattended death, homicide, and suicide within a vehicle, it’s advisable to hire a professional biohazard cleanup service. These services typically specialize in cleaning up affected cars and returning them to an optimal condition. The vehicle will need to be disinfected thoroughly and require the removal of porous materials from inside the car to avoid contamination. A professional vehicle biohazard service is discrete and efficient to minimize trauma and attention.   

Decomposition & Odor Cleaning and Sanitization

The decomposition and odor issues within a residence can have several causes relating to an unattended death, crime scenes, or pets. By and large, however, the most common need for this professional cleaning service is unattended death. A deceased individual who is not found for days or weeks can create an odor that requires professional treatment. It is not only for the smell. A decomposed body emits hazardous bacteria and pathogens that must be eliminated to protect neighbors and future occupants. 

Call Now For A Free Estimate

(404) 301-5100 | 19th Street NW Atlanta GA,

[melbournebio]

Why Is Biohazard Cleaning Necessary?

A biological hazard is a harmful or contaminated substance that can endanger your health. Pathogenic microorganisms, poisons, viruses, or bacteria are examples of biohazards that can be found in various environments.

Biohazards can be found when industrial or clinical waste is present, such as in hospitals, laboratories, industrial environments, and even restaurants.

Blood, needles, animal excrement, biological debris, viruses, and bacteria are the most prevalent biohazards in the environment. Bio-Clean Melbourne is your go-to destination for prompt and thorough biohazard cleanup in Geelong.

To reduce the danger of infection from exposure to harmful chemicals, you must get a biohazard cleanup for the safe contamination of the areas exposed to biohazards.

A biohazard occurrence requires a comprehensive cleaning process known as biohazard cleanup. Bio-Clean Melbourne’s expert professionals provide the most efficient and prompt biohazard cleanup in Ballarat.

Biohazards like blood, urine, or vomit can seep into porous materials or locations that are invisible to the naked eye if not attended to. In these circumstances, conventional cleaning techniques are not sufficient.

The goal of biohazard cleaning is to remove and discard biohazardous materials securely. Biohazard cleaners ensure the area is thoroughly decontaminated and no longer poses a risk to public health.

Why Hire a Biohazard Cleaner?

Here’s why hiring a biohazard cleaning service is the best option instead of risking your health and doing the dangerous task yourself.

Unlike regular cleaners, biohazard cleaners receive specialised training, certification, and expertise in handling and properly disposing dangerous biohazards. 

To properly remove biohazards, they employ specialised cleaning supplies and machinery.

The biohazardous location becomes safe and habitable after bio-cleaning.

Need quick and efficient services for biohazard cleanup in Bendigo? Bio-Clean Melbourne is your one-stop destination.

Risks Associated With Biohazard Cleaning

The cleaners and the owners of the contaminated property are clearly in danger from biohazards. The biohazards themselves pose the most threat during the entire process.

When blood or bodily fluids need to be cleaned up, there is a risk of contracting infections because even a minute amount of blood can harbour dangerous viruses, including HIV, hepatitis B, and hepatitis C. 

Non-professionals who clean biohazards run a significant danger of contracting these undesired infections.

If biohazards or bodily fluids are detected on a biohazard cleaner's clothing or skin, they may also act as carriers, putting both the cleaner and those who come in contact with them in danger.

Imagine if the contaminated area was cleaned carelessly or by amateurs who could not wholly remove the biohazard. 

In that instance, there may be a risk to those who reside there or frequently visit the area because there is a higher likelihood that they will get sick or spread the disease.

Untreated biomaterials may also draw insects and fungi, which could cause more problems for the surrounding area and the people that live there.

Melbourne's Best Biohazard Cleaning Services

Bio-Clean Melbourne is one of Australia's leading biohazard, trauma, property remediation, and cleanup agencies. 

Our biohazard specialists provide COVID surface cleaning services, trauma cleaning, abandoned property cleaning services, and biohazard cleanup in Mornington. Get a customised quote on our website now!

[robinette-green]

TW: Blood/nose-bleeds

How would Sun and Moon (both human and animatronic) feel/react to the reader having nose-bleeds?? Especially when it’s the first time they see reader have ‘em. As someone who has a lot of them, and quite frequently too, I have wondered about this, quite a lot

And I’ll completely understand if you don’t want to answer, this is (in many ways) a weird question, I’m just curious is all

I don’t think it’s a weird question! (I used to get nose bleeds a lot when I was younger so I know how it goes 😅)

Human Sun (Solaris): He’d panic. Depending on the AU, Solaris usually has a handkerchief on him and would fumble for it frantically before gently taking MC’s face into his hands and holding the kerchief to their nose all the while babbling about how everything would be alright.

“A-AH! Hold on! I have a-! Here it is! Here! Keep your head down! It’ll be okay! Promise! Did you hit your nose? What happened? Everything’s going to be alright! W-we’ll get the bleeding to stop and then get you cleaned up! Oh dear.”

(Meanwhile MC probably had it handled and is bemused at Solaris’s panic.)

Animatronic Sun: This Sun would also panic. Rays shooting out in shock before pulling in in destress. He’s got tissues for when the little ones have runny noses and would scramble to get them.

“DEWDROP! Y-you’re bleeding! I’ve got- I have! Where did I put them! Here! Oh! Try not to get any blood on the floor! Tilt your head forward! Come sit over here! It’s okay! Are you okay? It’ll be okay!”

(Sun’s biggest worry is you but he’s also a little concerned about any blood that gets on anything. It is a bio hazard)

Human Moon (Lucien): He’s panicking but doing his best not to let it show. Lucien would probably take MC’s face into his hands and look for any damage or distress before finding something to stanch the flow of blood.

“What have you done to yourself. Come here, let me see.” He’d use a calm voice and if MC was upset he’d provide forehead kisses and murmur reassurances.

Actually he’d probably provide forehead kisses anyway. His silly little starlight started to bleed out of nowhere.

Animatronic Moon:

I wrote a little bit about Animatronic Moon handling a Reader nose bleed in A Door You’re Unable to Close (though it’s brought on by MC slamming face first into a play structure)

I’ll slip that down below.

I cowered on the floor, hands clamped over my ears as Sun struggled and screamed, his shift over to Moon a painful one as Sun fought to prevent it.

It took longer than I would have liked to kick myself to move. Sun's scream turned into a growl as I forced my legs underneath me and scrabbled at the floor to pull myself into a run.

"You're up past your bedtime."

I didn't chance a look as I ran for the closest play structure. Moon's voice was as raspy and creepy as it was in the game. There was a faint red glow behind me, then with an evil giggle, it was suddenly gone as Moon, presumably, using his cord to lift into the air.

Dashing across the floor to the nearest play set, Moon dropped in front of me, and I had to skid to a stop and change directions.

I could barely see the padded floor before me in the dark, so I didn't see the kiddie chair set to the side until I'd tripped over it.

I was sent flying into one of the plastic walls of a play structure with a yelp. Smacking into it face first, pain rocketed up my nose accompanied by a metallic smell.

This was pathetic. I was going to be caught, and I hadn't even made it into a structure.

Slowly, I sat up, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as pain radiated from my poor nose.

A whimper left me as I lifted my hand to my nose and found that hot, sticky liquid was trickling down my face. Was that blood? Had I broken it?

Then Moon landed next to me, and I panicked, scrambling away with a pathetic panicking noise.

On my hands and knees, I dove for one of the tubes at ground level but got stuck, back hitting the top of the tube. I'd have to slide through on my stomach if I wanted to get any further, but I wasn't given the chance.

"Stop. You'll hurt yourself more."

Large hands easily halted my escape, snagging me around the middle and lifting me out of the tube and into the air.

"N-NO!" I yelped, covering my nose and squeezing my eyes shut.

Moon had caught me so easily. There'd been no chase; I'd just immediately put myself out of commission. Would he kill me now? Choke me to death like he did in some of the fan fictions I'd read? Maybe he'd take me to Vanny, and she'd kill me.

Tears were pouring down my face now, body trembling, blood dripping into my hands from my throbbing nose, convinced that this would be my end. I'd lost the game so quickly, and there were no save files I could switch to.

Carefully, the hands holding me set me down on the edge of the security desktop.

My eyes flew open, and I looked up, confused and scared, into red eyes. With a soft, comforting noise, Moon carefully pulled my hands away from my face. I struggled, but the animatronic was much too strong.

"Let me see what you've done," Moon murmured, his red eyes flicking over the tears and blood.

A flash of blue light blinded me in the dark, leaving me squinting with an afterimage left in my eyes.

"You didn't break it, but I'm sure it hurts."

I was having a really hard time processing what was going on. Moon wasn't trying to kill me. Instead, he was caring for me as though I was a small child who had had a tumble.

I did have a rather nasty tumble, but I wasn't a child.

Though I am crying like one… and my nose really hurts.

"I-if you're not going to hurt me, t-then why aren't you allowed to come out anymore?" I asked, voice muffled from my messed up nose.

Moon just stared at me. That was probably not what he'd expected me to say in this situation.

"Stay." He instructed before vanishing into the dark.

He didn't answer my question.

If Moon wasn't dangerous, why had Sun tried so hard to keep him contained? Or maybe switching between the two hurts, and that was all that was to it? But Sun seemed too nervous about the lights for that to be the only thing. I was missing something. Had something happened that made Faz co. forbid Moon from coming out with anyone in the daycare? That would explain the generators. But what had happened?

Hugging myself, I trembled on the desktop, adrenaline still coursing through my body as I came down from my scare, blood dripping onto my knees as I let it flow, not wanting the hot red gross to flow down my throat.

"Here." A paper towel was gently held to my nose, and I flinched, having not seen or heard Moon's approach.

"Head down till the bleeding stops, then we'll use a cold pack on your nose for a bit to help with the swelling."

Holding the paper towel to my nose, I did as instructed and tilted my head down. Moon was standing just to the side of me, crouched slightly, his face plate level with my head, as he reached up to rub my back with one of his massive hands comfortingly. The stars on his puffy jester pants and the little nightcap on his head were glowing faintly in the dark.

"Thanks…" I mumbled.

Moon said nothing, continuing to watch me, hand still on my back. We sat there in silence until my nose stopped bleeding, then Moon brought me the cold pack I'd been using on my shoulders.

[chaos-has-theories]

I don't remember if I've already made this post, but on the question of how Wake made it into Gideon's sword, I am convinced that Augustine just spelled it out for us:

Gideon is the murder weapon. I believe the Spunk Undying did a number on Wake during the nine months (it killed Mercy's perfect dummies!) and that she was already dying when she jumped out of the shuttle but - even if you disagree, Gideon's bio-hazard container was actively sucking out her oxygen. I'm pretty sure that counts.

Murder weapon: Gideon Nav. Things that touched the murder weapon: one standard infantry box, still in its original packaging when handed over around age 8. Gideon kept that sword with her all the time, training and cleaning and all but hugging it to sleep. I call that solidly "exposed to her thanergy and thalergy". Definitely more than any other possessions our Girl has, considering that those tally up to her shoes and some titty mags.

And of course bloody-mindedness is essentially Wake's middle name. Right between Kia Hua Ko Te Pai and Snap Back To Reality.

[resident-wof-expert]

Webs: Why are you all not cleaning the cave?!

Clay: Because I found a bunch of needles under Kestrel's chair, and I wasn't sure how to dispose of them.

Webs: You know you're supposed to put them in the bio-hazard bin!

Clay: Yeah, but the last time I did that, Kestrel got mad at me.

Webs: Clay-

Clay: She called it "fatherless behavior" and then threw me through a wall.

Webs: CLAY-

Clay: It hurt. Partially because her comment hit close to home. But mostly because walls are hard.

[gothicflowers]

John Price x GN!firefighter!Reader

Hang Up The Coat

Umm so this is extremely self indulgent (I’m using Price to cope instead of facing the reality of my job)

Warnings: mentions of death, alcoholism, firefighter reader. SFW.

John had returned last night from his deployment to an empty home. Bottles scattered around, Piles of laundry from the past month. He knew it was getting bad but it seemed to have gotten worse in his absence. He didn’t know how to have the talk that needed to happen but you seemed to be on the edge of breaking and he’d be damned to let you get near it.

It was 07:13 in this morning and he had already polished the house clean. The was no evidence that anything was even remotely wrong. To price it was important to help you get better. Even if that meant waking up at 4AM to clean the house so you could relax when you got off shift. Working 48 hours consecutively absolutely exhausted you and he wanted to make sure you could have his undivided attention.

You had a habit of going full housewife when he was home. Cooking, cleaning and tending to his every need. Despite your families disappointment of getting a male dominated job you still can’t get rid of the traditional values you where raised to uphold. Your adoration for John was undeniable even after all these years. In a way you left that your life purpose was to serve him. And John lived his life to serve you, when he wasn’t at work the soldier in him melted away to reveal a kind hearted man with a love for his wife and board games.

He finally heard your car door shut in the driveway. He practically ran to the door to great you like a puppy. Opening the door you were greeted with a brown haired man with his hair pulled back and a smile plastered on his face. He was home a week earlier to your surprise.

“My love I missed you”

He pulls you into a deep kiss. His strong hands cradling your small head as he kissed you. The tears he hadn’t noticed poured into his hands.

“No, no, baby what’s wrong?”

You sniffled and handed him the paper that you hoped would say something different. Instead it read the same as all the times before.

Hello,

Thank you for applying for the lieutenant position. We regret to inform you that you were not selected this round. While you held the necessary certificates and training requirements the promotion committee believes you should improve as a member of the brotherhood before any further promotions. We appreciate your time and dedication in the selection process.

Thank you,

Chief

“Darling im so sorry”

He pulled you into a deep hug. His musk engulfs your senses. He’s been gone for three long lonely months. No contact with you per 141 policy. The isolation is suffocating. All your friends had moved on with life and left you behind so you were completely alone. The letter wasn’t helping with the sense of adulthood failure.

“I’m so tired, of this constant struggle to be enough”

“Maybe it’s time to consider other options”

His soft voice was afraid of what you’d say next.

“But it’s what I was made for. All these year and to just be done?!”

John felt a ping in his heart because he knew his honest words would still sting.

“Love you don’t need your job to be your purpose in life”

That’s when you began the real breakdown.

“But it’s what I’ve been doing since I was 18. I don’t know anything else, I’m stuck, but I love the job too much to quit. It’s like asking you to leave 141.”

You never intended to be a firefighter. It just kinda happened. That bright eyed rookie that was full of energy had been burned to pieces years ago. Your friends always told you that working a 48 hour shift must be so nice because you have so much time off. In reality you came home and slept for a few hours after the never ending late night 911 calls and days filled with the general public yelling at you for not being fast enough, cold dinners, washing bio hazards of your boots.

At home waking up to deal with the mental toll of the job and making yourself a glass of whiskey to ease your mind, only to overdo it and end up passed out on the kitchen floor.

The department you worked for always peached “brotherhood” but no matter how hard you worked you still remained an outside. Constantly getting pulled into the chiefs office for “not showing enough dedication”. They never recognized the extra effort you put in. The endless charity events you organized, overtime, teaching classes. Going to extra training classes eating away at your days off. Countless trainings out of town when your husband was home from deployment. None of it mattered to them. Never good enough.

Promotion time came and went again, this was round four of applying for promotion. Yet again missing out on becoming a lieutenant because you don’t fit into any of the clicks. You didn’t golf with the ranked officers on your days off. You didn’t get invited to the cookouts. They always said promotion was based off performance but the five newest officers proved that to be false. Lazy, arrogant, fat men had moved up while you stayed at the bottom. If you wanted to move up you needed to be one of the boys. How?

“It’s never enough for them is it” John has said just loud enough to be a whisper.

John was tired of seeing you get kicked around. It angered him more than you’ll ever know. He always stood by your side when things got hard. You had made it your goal to get promoted to lieutenant before you started trying for a family. John was never going to tell you but he has growing slightly impatient. He wanted you to spend your days happy, kids running around while he cooks breakfast and you sleep in. Not coming home pretending that you didn’t witness another overdose before breakfast and help the corenor bag another young person took far too soon before bed.

You barely had energy to kiss him when you got home. Your mental health had plummeted, your new hobby was drinking and screaming at the walls. Stumbling around with music blasting. You didn’t care about anything, and when you wanted to talk about something you turned it into an argument over nothing. The five foot nothing angel he fell in love with eight years ago was barely recognizable in you. The man that never wanted you to know pain, death, loneliness felt helpless.

But for whatever reason he still loved you. He recalls a time before you met when he was this way in the military, before 141. Angry at the world, doing his best with a bottle in his hand. He only realized he needed a change when he was given the option to stay or start 141. He chose to leave the bottle.

“Love maybe… maybe it’s time to close this chapter” he was gentle saying it as best as he could. He knew how much it hurt for you to hear it. But he knew you better than to let you keep being destructive. He could see the internal conflict within yourself behind the tears in your eyes.

“Then what do I do? I know what I want out of life but I just feel like I’ll lose part of myself if I stop”

“Do you think you’ll lose a part of yourself, or has the part of you that’s tired of pushing has turned into rage?”

“It’s turned from rage to sorrows. And I’m tired of being pushed around. And I’m tired of not being good enough… and…”

“And what love”

“I don’t want you to think less of me for calling it quits when you’ve always stood by be though it all. I want to go back to how I was to you. I’m so sorry I’ve neglected you for so long”

“Oh love you’ll always and forever be my strong angell. I would never think of you differently for quitting. You did such a good job and I know they don’t see it but I know. I will always know my wife fought hard. And I just want you to get better and I’m happy you want to. But I can’t let you keep hurting yourself like this”

“Then I think… I’m ready to hand up my coat.”

“Then that’s what you will do”

He gently kissed your lips and wiped away your tears.

He had a soft reassuring smile. He knew this was going to be a hard process for you but the job was eating you alive and you knew it too.

“Would you like me to help you write your letter of resignation?” His hands still holding your delicate face while his eyes looked down with love.

“I would love that”

[biographydivider]

I couldn’t stop thinking about @cupcakeslushie‘s Donnie in his lil black cami in one of the latest comics from their Separated AU, so I wrote a little lighthearted April and Donnie day out in its honour. I would lay down my life for hyper, slowly-learning-he-deserves-to-be-loved Three, and he deserves something fluffy💜

She found him crouched in a corner, behind a rack of coats, rubbing a black satin camisole between his hands and chirruping contentedly to himself.

April shoulda known D wasn’t ready for a trip out.

“Donnie,” she hissed, pushing aside a gigantic, furry, pink monstrosity in order to see her brother better, “what are you doing?!”

“April!” Donnie yelled, beaming. “How pleasant to see you here!”

A woman walking past tutted, saying something about kids these days and no manners. April whipped her head around to glare daggers at her retreating back. D had a volume control problem; so what? Least he wasn’t a passive-agressive bitch about it.

“Donnie. We came in together. Remember? I gotta pick out some jeans and then we’re going to get --” 

“Boba. I remember, I remember.” Donnie clicked his fingers at her, nodding so fast April wasn’t sure how he didn’t tweak a muscle. “But look what I found; look look look look.” He inched his way out of the coat rack and was pushing the vest into April’s hand, still passing the material back and forth between his finger and thumb. “Oooh. Soooooft.”

His eyes glittered with delight, and April had to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing; she had to at least try to be a voice of reason, here.

“Get up. You look like a pervert. Sittin’ on the floor with undergarments in y’hands.” She hauled Donnie to his feet, re-adjusting his hood so his green skin wasn’t as visible. “‘Nah, Raphie,’” she muttered sarcastically to herself, “‘Me an’ D’ll be fine on our own for one afternoon, suuuure...’”

“I’m going to buy it,” Donnie was saying, looking down at the puddle of satin in his palms. “I’m going to buy it - with the money Spl...that Papa gave me. And I’ll only use it to clean up my very best paints. Or I’ll make it into a...a pillowcase. Ooh, or even better; I’ll hang it up on the wall in my room! And when I finally - finally! - get my hands on some uranium I’ll use it to create a pattern on the fabric - so when I use my blacklight, it shines! Or...”

“Or,” April interrupted, slinging her arm around Donnie’s neck, “you could wear it. Like you’re supposed to.”

A tiny crease appeared between Donnie’s unnervingly immaculate brows. “Wear it?”

“It’s a cami. To go under your clothes? Or by itself, so you can show off those guns of yours.” April poked her brother in the bicep and was quietly thrilled to hear him laugh under his breath at the joshing. There was a time when Donnie had flinched away from any and all roughhousing; which, as the family slowly and tentatively tried to glue themselves back together, made April sadder that she’d ever mention out loud.

“Papa said no guns in the lair. I asked.” Donnie’s gaze was torn away from the camisole. “And I can’t wear it. Not something this nice. I’d...I’d spoil it. Tear it. Get it dirty.” Suddenly, that manic glitter in her brother’s eyes was clouded by a shimmer of tears. “C-contaminate it.”

Well. If that didn’t just break your heart. It suddenly occured to April exactly why Donnie had hidden himself away with his treasure, without showing her or telling her where he was going. Because he didn’t feel worthy of something as inconsequential as a stupid vest top.

Donnie and April hadn’t exactly got on when he’d first crash-landed in her life. Being used to big, kind, stalwart Raphael hadn’t prepared April for a brother who was spiky, loud and more than a little brittle. But then Three...Donnie...D...had started to relax. A little. And Raph had told her things, like when they’d had a trip to the junkyard together and he’d learned a little more about his brother’s past. No wonder this kid thought he was a walking bio-hazard. And slowly, the loudness had started to look like passion, the spikes like defensive armour. The brittleness like a desperation to be loved. And if there was one thing April could do, it was love.

“Get in there,” she said, shoving Donnie towards a changing booth at the back of the store.

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“It’s too bright!”

“I know, changing rooms have bad lighting so you feel like shit an’ buy their stuff to feel prettier.”

“I see -- aghh! My face! My porous face in the mirror!”

“Close your eyes, then, and put your arms up.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“April I refuse to be part of this harshly-lit torture chamber for a moment --”

”Okay fine! Come out. Better? Okay. Arms up. Hoodie off - just for a second, then you can have it back, alright? Then just slip your hands through those holes there, let me just pull that into place annnnd...yep! Open your eyes.”

As Donnie regarded himself in the mirror, April wondered if she’d made a mistake. His body language was...well, it was non-existent. He’d gone stock still, staring blankly at his own torso. Then, both hands came up to flatten the material against his plaston, and a shaky, wobbling smile broke across her brother’s face. It was only when those hands began to flap, fanning the sides of his face, that April could finally breathe.

“I look...resplendent.”

“Dang right you do!” April squeezed his shoulder, snapping off the tag at the nape of his neck. That way, the lady at the counter could scan the barcode without interrupting Donnie’s flow. “I should do this for a living. April O’Neil; Personal Shopper! So - how would you rate your experience with us today, sir? Very satisfied, very very satisfied, extremely satisfied...?”

[neptuniadoesstuff]

My Reference Sheet of Phen 228.

A "censored" Ref of my ver of Phen 228 (Canon) for my Modern AU aka "Branches of a Paranormal Federation".

(What is censored are the faces & the severed limb as those are where the gøřə is.)

Bio (Major):

|| Code Name: Phen 228 | Aliases: "Watanabe Bird", "The Boiled One", Hakunata (Based on strange written letters that look similar to English) | Year & Place of Discovery: 2003, Pennsylvania (By the Ephrata Branch) | Current Wearibouts: Unknown | Other: Was discovered to have other variants of it whom have somewhat similar abilities although with different out comes | Main abilities: Cognito-Hazardous properties (When looked at, can cause quesdocoma & the manifestation of its being, can't be seen by others, only ones who are effected) | Ways to combat the effects: Wear blue-light glasses & earplugs, must be about 5 feet away from the screen at all cause ||

(Btw this is just info the Ephrata Branch has put down, as I'll be putting my own info here based on my head canons & the design/lore I gave Phen myself for this au. Although the Hakunata part is only for this AU & not the canon lore. This includes the design.)

(WARNING INCOMING! BL00D, GUTS, & GØŘƏ WILL BE HERE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION! FOR THESE ARE THE UNCENSORED REFS + FULL BODY REFS OF PHEN 228!)

(Also... Slight disturbing imagery for the reference photo)

The actual uncensored ref sheet & the full body ref. Yeh uh.. they look pretty messed up lookin but it's clear that Phen rlly isn't supposed to look.. Clean.. (Although I am waiting till the simps arrive.. Which I hope they don't-)

Bio (Written by... an outsider aka me lol)

|| Name: [REDACTED] | Aliases: Hakunata (A nickname given to by his sister) | Gender: Interseggs/Genderless (But is represented as male), He/They/It (Or any Pronouns but those are preferred) | Age: 100? (Not sure, I doubt Phen has a canon age-) | Height: Whatever rlly (But is normally like... REALLY TALL-) | Pride: No Idea. I doubt this spirit demon thing cares about being attracted to anything- | Species: A strange hybrid of a human & fallen angel | Family: A child named "Rei" & some other Phens (Example: Kasinoshi or "Priest) | Personality: Somewhat malicious, is a bit obsessive with a certain family, but seems to... weirdly care about his victims? (Idk its a whole bag of worms) | Occupation: Some false prophet frikker idk. Might've been a war criminal from Japan in a past life (WWII) | Powers: Able to give anyone who looks at it w/o protection pseudocoma & sleep paralysis, also able to communicate with anyone who is affected with their "curse". Can fly apparently (But is pretty lazy & doesn't rlly use their phantom arms to fly at all) | Other (aka unimportant stuff): Prob likes torturing a certain family he effected back in 2003, despises kids (except its own), gets very uncomfortable with anything sus (like me), loves stealing & consuming ppl's spines, prob not understanding how modern tech work, might commit a few war crimes here & there (which is a big nono), & is usually seen indulging himself in some Japanese things bcs it reminds him of the old times (Yes even the modern stuff) ||

& here is the Original/Reference Image!

(Update: fix some stuff in the Extra info thing bcs I don't grammar well.)

Credits lol-

Character: Phen 228 (Belongs to Doctor Nowhere aka Silas) (Although the design of Phen 228 not from the original image belongs to me.)

Art: Mine.

Reference Image Creator: Silas Orion aka Doctor Nowhere.

Program: IbisPaint x.

Bubs' TOS: Plz don't repost/steal, trace, or recolor my art WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! If you do, I'll take yur femur and pelvis.. SO, DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! (The PNS on my blog's pinned post clearly means "Please No Steal" plz follow that rule.) If you do post my art on anything like yur blog or somewhere else (With my permission) PLEASE CREDIT ME!

[seqyv]

[HYSTERIA CANON - SCP-173 REWRITE.]

ITEM #: SCP-173

LEVEL-2 -- RESTRICTED

CONTAINMENT CLASS: EUCLID DISRUPTION CLASS: VLAM/KENEQ RISK CLASS: WARNING

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-173 is to be contained within Site-19's Anomalous Art & Humanoid Containment Wing, and is assigned a reinforced-concrete chamber. When personnel assigned to cleaning duty enter SCP-173's container, no less than three (3) persons may enter at any given time and the gates must be relocked behind them. Two (2) persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173, while one cleans the surface area of SCP-173’s chamber, until all personnel have vacated and relocked the chamber.

Description: SCP-173 is an animate cognito-hazardous statue resembling a human composed of concrete, rebar and traces of spray paint with an atypically high concentration of isobutyl acetate (C6H1202). Its primary anomalous characteristic is its mobilization and hostile, predatory behavior towards any biological organism in the vicinity that exceeds a certain threshold of intelligence. However, when visually observed by such organisms, the anomaly becomes immobilized and temporarily activates its secondary, cognitive-damaging effects. These secondary effects are:

mild paranoia, anxiety;

subtle, unpleasant olfactory hallucinations.

These effects occur, intensify sequentially, and immediately subside when line of sight is broken. These effects typically don’t result in permanent damage to the psyche and are relatively easy to treat.

SCP-173 is also capable of instantaneous acceleration. It retains momentum when immobilized, allowing it to resume movement as if it had never stopped. SCP-173 has been observed to reach record-breaking speeds aswell, traveling roughly 22 meters a second (= 50 mph / 79 km/h) when unobserved.

SCP-173 is highly aggressive and prefers to target isolated, vulnerable individuals, presumably for an advantage as suggested in later interviews beginning from 1997 (ADDENDUM-01-1997). In addition, SCP-173’s preferred killing method is by snapping the neck at the base of the skull or violent strangulation. SCP-173’s preferred means of traveling is via the ventilation system and on foot.

The reddish-brown substance the anomaly produces resembles a mixture of bio-waste in texture and odor; the origin of these materials is unknown and exclusively manifests ectoentropically in rooms it is in while out of sight. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis. Sounds of scraping stones originating from within the container are heard when no one is inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behavior should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor¹ on duty.

DISCOVERY: Moved to Site-19 in 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown, suggested to be an art piece constructed by an unknown sculptor who belongs to a sub-sect of GoI-2979 (“Are We Cool Yet?”) which focuses on Dadaist principles, instigating the breakdown of logical superstructures and coherency.

ADDENDUM-01-1997: As of 1997, it has been revealed that SCP-173 could participate in limited verbal communication after repeated attempts to initiate a conversation with the anomaly. Interview logs are to be added.

Note: SCP-173 has become habitually verbally aggressive and refuses to offer any information pertaining to its origin and purpose. Interviews have been indefinitely suspended and stricter containment procedures have been implemented.

REFERENCES USED: SCP-173-B DOCUMENT FROM SCP-5K. ORIGINAL SCP-173 DOCUMENT.

NOTES: ¹ “HMCL supervisor” is a role akin to the lead researcher working on an SCP. They are in charge of said SCP and control almost everything involving it. They deal with everything related to it and what course of action to take.

[skazoo]

heat waves.

↳ choi san x f!reader, implied past sakura miyawaki x f!reader

summer sucks and so does your boyfriend. you love him tho, so that's ok.

length. 5.5k

genre. vampire!san, crack, fluff and very little angst (unbelievable)

warnings/tags. language, mention of blood, mention of sex, i think that's it??

networks. @kflixnet

notes. woohoo!!! first ateez fic!!! not much to say i just love popsicle!san ig ALSO i'm so fucking bad at writing description wtf is that?? but also do you get the pun? please tell me you do.

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

san knows you hate summer.

he knows you hate sweating, bugs, air conditioning in shops, and when people say 'it's not so much the heat as the humidity' in those stupid little knowing voices. 

san knows you hate summer, and your tossing and turning and whining in your shared bed is the glaring proof of that. 

with fond eyes, he watches you inch closer to his body every few minutes. it will inevitably lead you into the familiar position, with your head on his chest and your legs tangled together, you hugging him close to benefit from his gelid skin.

he admittedly gets all giddy and internally giggles like a teenager every time it happens. he’s just glad you’re not awake to catch him in the act for he would not hear the end of it.

san knows you hate summer but he can’t help but love the season for this reason exactly.

the two of you actually met in the middle of ‘one of the hottest summers ever recorded’ and from that moment on, he’s been in all your seasons.

FIRST SUMMER TOGETHER.

moving into a new apartment on the third floor with a narrow stairway and no elevator in the middle of july was possibly the worst decision you’ve ever taken in your entire life, and you’re pretty well known for making wrong choices. 

every one of your friends agreed that it was, in fact, a bad decision but you had embarked on the tedious journey knowing it was inevitable and desperately needed.

because honestly speaking, what were the options? were there options in the first place?

picture. you just moved from another country, running away from both your problems and your parents, things which if you think about it now, were one and the same. you’re a freshman in a college you’re surprised you even got into thanks to your messy portfolio. you don’t know anyone, let alone have friends, and sakura miyawaki, who’s apparently the sakura miyawaki —hot junior with a brilliant career ahead of her and a honeyed voice capable of making anyone fall at her feet— bumps into you and spills her iced coffee all over the sweatpants and sweatshirt combo that you call your pajama. 

it’s a chilly late september night, you’re coming back to your dorm from a lonely and sad dinner at the convenience store five minutes off campus, and your wide eyes, shivering body, and awkward incapability to form a single, coherent sentence must inspire her so much pity that she essentially begs you to at least allow her to take your dirty clothes to your dormitory’s laundry room. she’s pretty and smells nice, and in your book, that’s more than enough to follow her to the cramped and dusty room with flickering neon lights and a serious mold problem.

you talk the whole night, you dangling your legs from one of the dryers, and she, sitting legs crossed on the ground waiting for your clothes to clean up.

fast forward eight months, and she’s inviting you to live with her after having to hear you whine about your bio-hazard of a roommate for the whole semester. you’re together now, have been for two months or so, and it actually sounds like a good idea until it isn’t.

it doesn’t last too long. you know the first period of living together poses a great challenge to every relationship, you merely thought that yours was going to pass smoothly.

you fight over stupid things more often than not, you say sorry when you’re not supposed to, she feels bad, you have sex, and you are back to square one.

you’re not one to force something that’s not meant to be, disregarding your mental health in the process, and just before summer starts, you break up with her. it's not that surprising when it doesn’t turn out to be something tragic. she’s still your friend, you’re still living together under the same roof. there’s just an invisible wall acting as a boundary between the two of you.

when the summer you so fervently hate and she so animatedly loves finally comes around, your living situation becomes a problem. 

she has a new girlfriend, and you don’t resent her one bit. chaewon is pretty and smart and likes summer almost as much as sakura, she’s not the problem per se, it’s just that the small two-bedroom apartment is starting to feel claustrophobic. it’s when, after a month or so, you catch them doing stuff on the couch you and sakura bought together that you decide you have to move out. out of the apartment, out of the relationship.

which brings you to your current situation.

did sakura really have to find happiness in july?

you loudly curse the droplets of sweat that form at the back of your neck only to slowly crawl their way under your tank top, down your back. 

you take one look around the small atrium of the old building off campus you consciously decided to move into, then over your shoulder to the heap of furniture sakura so graciously let you take with you, and you’re overcome by the urge to just leave it all on the street, live a refreshing minimalist life, sleep on a mattress on the floor and keep your clothes inside your suitcase forever. 

you visibly grimace at how lazy you are, but, in your defense, you were promised assistance, motivation, an annoying cheerleader with a probable undiagnosed OCD hyping you up and telling you exactly how and where to move things.  

honestly, seonghwa was such a bitch to bail on you last minute. he should be here helping you (doing everything for you without even noticing because he hates how you do things), not lazing around somewhere (working overtime for mere pennies).

you loudly sigh, hoping he can hear you from the other side of the city before shaking your head to shoo away any counterproductive thought and rolling up non-existent sleeves to finally get to work after almost twenty minutes of sweet and pure procrastination.

starting going up and down the steep stairs, you think that maybe you were just being a tad bit overdramatic. yeah, you’re still sweating like a pig and your hair still uncomfortably sticks to the back of your neck, but you’re working relatively quickly and you’re finally seeing progress! who needs help? from a man, nonetheless? seonghwa can go to hell with his big words like irresponsibility, laziness, immaturity, and weaponized incompetence that he throws at you every time you beg him to help you with something.

this little emancipated-woman moment lasts for about an hour when you realize how right your best friend actually is in calling you dumb, and the real reason for everything going so smoothly and without that much of an effort finally reveals itself. having moved all the useless and light things first, your bigger furniture remains sitting on the street, tanning under a bright summer sun.

now you stand alone at the top of the first flight of stairs. a wanderer above a sea of silence and embarrassment. the bed structure you just left tumbling down the steps with a loud noise after trying to dangerously drag it to your apartment on your own, stares at you mockingly.   

and yet, the only thing you can think about is that when it fell, the headboard banged against the staircase wall and didn’t leave any mark, so at least the old building is not made of cardboard and won’t fly away at the next thunderstorm in a wizard of oz type of fashion.

two floors above you a door slams open and a deep, angry voice cascades on you from the heavens, judging for your sins and damning you to an afterlife of suffering in the fiery pits of the equivalent for stupid people of hell.

“what the fuck is happening in this forsaken building!? some people are trying to sleep, for fuck’s sake!”

you hear him before you see him but nothing about his voice could have prepared you to witness the hunk of a man hurling himself down the stairs to see your crouched and sad form pitifully sitting on the last step of the stairs, knees close to your chest and eyes looking at the consequences of your actions through fissures of your hands pressed in shame on your face. 

you know he’s standing behind you from the furious huffs coming from his nostrils every two or three seconds, and you slowly —comically, under other circumstances— turn your head to look at him, hovering over you, blazing glare pinning you down.

“was it you? who- what are you doing?”

“i dropped my bed…”

he passes an aggressive hand through his dark hair. “what the fuck does that mean?”

you silently point to the furniture at the bottom of the stairs, resigned eyes staying on his confused face.

“how did- you woke me up. i just fell asleep.”

“it’s almost noon.” you point out. “and it’s tuesday…”

he presses his lips in a thin line seemingly getting where you’re coming from.

then it dawns on you. almost too obvious considering the people you hang out with. “oh my god don’t tell me- you’re a vampire?”

“i am- wait- how did you- and why do you sound disappointed, what the fuck?”

you shake your head dismissively. “oh, it’s not you, i swear. i just thought i’d meet a normal person for once.” your attention is back to your bed, assessing how to bring it to the third floor and missing the man’s shocked expression. if they could, his eyes would pop off their socket.

“for once?” 

you shoo his disbelief away with a wave of your hand, leaving him gaping at you like a fish out of water. “i’m- who are you?”

you simply shrug. “oh, i’m YN. i’m moving here.”

he’s funny, you think. right hand propped on his hip, left hand massaging the bridge of his nose while he takes deep breaths, he looks just like the old lady that lived down your street when you were little, and that had something to say every time you and your brothers played outside.

“are you okay? do you need to sit down?” you gently pat the space near you on the step you’re sitting on. a worried smile playing on your lips.

he glares at you from over his hand and scoffs loudly. “look, i really don’t know how you know, but i am a vampire and i do need to rest every once in a while. so just- just do what you have to do but do it quietly.”

you frown as he turns around, surely intent to barricade himself back into his house. 

is he really going to make you ask for it?

you have to bury all your pride —which at this point is not a lot– to stop him from leaving. “can you help me?” a whisper that you know he hears loud and clear as his head snaps back to you and his body stills halfway up the first flight of stairs.

“what?”

you feign innocence, looking at everything but him. “what?”

his face contorts weirdly, and you don’t understand if he’s about to cry his eyes out in front of you out of frustration or scream at your face before snapping your neck and going back to sleep like this is just another tuesday for him. what you do not expect is the loud snort that he lets out like you just said the most hilarious thing ever.

he looks at you again with the neighbor-lady pose and a surprised smile on his lips. “you want me to help you?”

you shrug, admittedly a little bit embarrassed at the condescending tone he’s using. you feel like a child before him, and in terms of years on this earth you probably are. “well-” you point at the furniture you just dropped down the stairs ”-the bed is not going to bring itself up the stairs and we clearly established that i’m not physically capable of doing it alone, so…”

he cocks his head and blinks blankly at you.

“you want me to say please? because i will-”

“say please.” he cuts you off and graces you with a smug smirk.

it’s hard to be annoyed when his voice sends a weird shiver down your back. “please, will you be so generous and help me bring the heavy stuff up these ridiculously steep stairs? like really, why are they so-”

“yes, dear neighbor. i will help you. thank you for asking so nicely.” and before you can say anything else, he’s already picking up the bed structure and carrying it up to your apartment without breaking as much as a sweat, and you’re left to stare at him at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded and admittedly a little attracted to this weird man too.

in no time the unsurprisingly strong vampire has managed to clear the street of your possessions and is now awkwardly standing in the middle of your small apartment, seemingly waiting for you to send him on his way.

“everything is here,” you state matter-of-factly, nibbling nervously at your lower lip and rocking on the balls of your feet.

he nods his head once and when you don’t say anything else, he looks at you with confused eyes. “do you need me for anything else or…?”

you’re quick to shake your head and offer him a thankful smile. “thank you, though.”

“no problem.” another beat of weird silence. “then i’ll… i’ll go,” he bids you a polite goodbye and starts walking to the door before you stop him with a shy hand on his cold forearm and a look that’s hopefully conveying how truly thankful you are for his help. without him you would still be sitting on the stairs wallowing in self-pity, waiting for a tired seonghwa to put you back in a tranquil state of mind.

“hey, i just wanted to- i really am sorry, okay? for waking you up, i mean, but i really hate summer and- and my friend seonghwa says i’m dumb, and he’s right because why the hell did i even try to drag the bed up the stairs alone? but he says that i have a problem with logical thinking and that i do stupid shit because of that, so maybe that’s why…? and he also says i’m a public danger and that i don’t read social cues, and that i say things to people and don't even realize it and- and i asked if you were a vampire and maybe i offended you and-”

“sounds like a shitty friend to me.” the cute smile on his lips makes you literally melt where you stand, and you’d be at a loss for words if you didn’t have a best friend whose reputation you have to save just after ruining it.

“no! i swear he’s the best! he’s- he's my voice of reason and- you know what, you should meet him, look i’ll call him now.” you reach for your phone in the pack pocket of your pants.

“YN.”

you stop halfway through clicking on seonghwa’s contact. “yes?”

he laughs a little. “it’s really not that deep, okay? i was just tired and i made it bigger than it actually is. so you don’t have to worry about it, and please don’t call your friend.”

“okay…”

a small satisfied nod, and he’s ready to go back to sleep, hopefully before the day ends.

“wait!”

he turns around yet again. his furrowed eyebrows and the small pout of curiosity on his mouth make you want to touch his face, just to feel if it’s soft or not. 

“do you… do you want to stay? i have blood if you want.”

he chokes on spit and you bite your cheeks to keep from bursting out laughing.

when he’s back to functioning normally he considers the invitation and nods slowly, following you to the small kitchen table he just took up the stairs.

he sits on one of the two chairs and looks at the almost empty refrigerator. some bags of blood, a carton of almond milk, and some weird bottles that san thinks he's seen before at hongjoong's place, the witch usually brewing the potions to help with his friends' hangovers. just who are you friends with? 

“how did you even bring the fridge here?”

you put a full glass of red liquid with a bright yellow straw in front of him. “it was already here when i came to take a look around. did your apartment not have one?”

he hums to confirm while taking a small box out of the pocket of his hoodie, and you can’t contain the amused gasp you let out.

“do you have fake fangs?!”

he puts something in the box and closes it, glaring at you with an offended hand on his chest. “my fangs are very much real, thank you. this is just my retainer.”

your laugh comes out before you can stop it, and he just sits there, in your packed apartment, a hurt frown on his pale face, aggressively sipping blood like a wronged child. 

san knows you hate summer, but he’s happy that sakura miyawaki decided to find happiness in july.

SECOND SUMMER TOGETHER.

“hwa, i swear i’m okay, alright? it was a busy day at work and i forgot to charge it. i’m sorry i didn't answer your calls. i know you were worried.” phone balanced between your right cheek and shoulder, you maddeningly fish for your keys in your work bag to unlock the entrance door of the old, silent building.

it’s almost one in the morning, the family with the little kid on the fourth floor and the two old couples on the first have been asleep for at least three hours, and you’re trying to keep your late-night noises to a minimum, climbing the stairs on your tiptoes and being careful to not let your keychain clang against the metal railing. 

when you reach the second floor and you realize that you forgot your very late dinner in your car parked fifteen minutes away because you couldn’t find a spot near the apartment, that’s when your resolve crumbles under the stress and the tiredness, taking you with it in the process. 

with a quick, strangled goodbye to seonghwa, you hang up the phone and loudly plop down on the last step of the first floor, just in front of a familiar door. head in your hands, tears of frustration collecting on your lower lash line. 

to say that you’re ready to give up would be an understatement.

if someone had told you you’d be going to university in the morning, work the first job after lunch, study, and then work your second job till after midnight and still not be able to pay rent without delays, you wouldn't have moved out of sakura’s apartment. hell, maybe you wouldn’t have moved out of your childhood home.

that’s actually a lie and you know it but these last few horribly hot and humid days have been making you question if you actually are as strong as you’ve always thought yourself to be. forgetting dinner in the car was just the last, short straw, that caused the tolerance for the frantic pace you’ve been living at to overflow, drowning you in doubts and paranoia. 

you hear the door behind you slowly open but your head remains in your hands while tears silently make their way down your reddened cheeks.

“hey, baby.”

you let yourself smile through the pain at his calm voice and silly pet name you love to hate.

“hi, sannie…”

“are you okay?”

still not looking at him, you slowly shake your head no, missing the fond look that takes on his features. 

“what’s the problem?”

you scoff. your life right now is just a bunch of problems in a trenchcoat, where do you even begin to tell him what’s wrong?

“if you turn me into a vampire do you think it’ll count as dying according to my life insurance policy?”

he laughs while leaning his side against the door frame, arms crossed and defined biceps standing out in his ‘this is the skin of a killer’ tank top…?

“what are you w-”

“i lost a bet to yeosang.” he closes his eyes in embarrassed contemplation.

“what-”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

you raise your hands in defeat, biting your lower lip to suppress a laugh. your exhausting frustrations are almost completely forgotten. “okay… killer.”

he groans loudly. “look, i was going to ask you if you wanted to talk about it but apparently bullying me is all it takes to feel better.”

you chuckle. “for being centuries old you sure are such a baby, sannie. yes, i want to talk about it, maybe just not where we can wake everyone up?”

he throws one last glare at you before turning and inviting you into his home. “did you have dinner?”

you take off your shoes and unceremoniously drop yourself on the fancy couch in his big living room. “nope. that’s one of the reasons i was crying, actually.”

without saying anything he gets to work at the stove he apparently uses just for you. “don’t they let you eat before you start your shift? i heard you talking to seonghwa.”

“were you eavesdropping, sannie?”

he shrugs. “i hear everything that happens here. i can’t just plug my ears every time someone’s on the phone.”

you chuckle at his old man antics. “they’d let me eat but i barely make it on time every day. i go there directly from the library, i just don’t have time.”

a small hum to signal that he’s listening.

“the problem is,” you start, popping your head from behind the headrest of the couch to look at him work his magic on your food, “that even if i kill myself at work every damned day, i’m still not able to live without worries. if i want to eat i can’t pay rent on time, and it’s fucking tiring.”

“stop renting and just buy.”

silence. 

you stare at the back of his head, and he must notice because he turns around with a questioning look on his face. “what?”

“‘just buy’? really?” you deadpan, “respectfully and all, but when you bought this apartment they were still using goats to buy stuff, san. that’s why you live in a huge ass house while i barely can afford a glorified closet.”

he turns to his stove muttering under his breath that he’s ‘not that old’.

you plop back down on the soft cushions. “i just want to be able to live the life i know i am worthy of. i work hard, i study hard, and i can’t even sleep without being scared of getting thrown out on the streets. and on top of that, my AC is not working and every time i step foot into that nightmare of an apartment i’m always on the verge of throwing myself out the fucking window.” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “i just wish something deus ex machina-style would happen to me to get me out of this misery.”

“you could come live with me.”

san hears you fall off the couch and on your ass.

“what?”

he switches off the stove and walks to his mahogany table at the center of the room, telling you that dinner is ready.

“i have a lot of spare rooms. you could come to live here, start saving some money for the life everyone who loves you knows you deserve.”

he always speaks like everything is so simple and while after you just met him it was sure to make your blood boil, over time it has become something to help you ground yourself when you feel you’re starting to spiral. 

“i- but you’ve lived alone for so much time maybe-”

“maybe it’s time to switch it up, don't you think? besides, i like spending time with you and you have a concerning amount of blood coming directly to your door every friday, so if it makes you feel better i’m also taking advantage of you a little.”

you snort loudly, a moved blush creeping up on your still tear-stained cheeks. “i don’t know what to say, sannie.”

he smiles at you. his dimples seem to melt your resolve every time.“then shut up and come eat before it gets cold or i’m gonna give it to you for breakfast when you wake up tomorrow.”

“i’m coming, wait a second…”

he curiously watches as you quickly type on your phone. “are you telling seonghwa?”

you shake your head without looking at him. “asking yeosang if he has another one of those shirts.”

he throws a napkin at you while grumbling something about ‘regret’ and ‘welcoming a bully into his home’.

san knows you hate summer and his AC works perfectly so it was just logical to have you move in. right? 

THIRD SUMMER TOGETHER.

you huff loudly, putting on every single piece of silver jewelry you own for your date night with your boyfriend —your dramatic flare making you dig for the accessories in the far back of your closet where you hid them when you started going out with him almost a year ago— and even if you’re not moving much, you can feel a sticky film of sweat start to form on the many exposed parts of your body that your clothes don't leave up to the imagination. 

“babe. c’mon.” san deadpans from the door of your shared bedroom; a safe distance between him and the threat your accessories pose to him. his hands propped on his waist and a cute pout frowning his pretty lips. 

you don’t acknowledge him in the slightest, and he closes his eyes solemnly; your lucky guess is that he’s counting to ten in his head just like how you taught him to do when he gets angry at wooyoung’s stupid teasing. then he speaks slowly, carefully, “so… just to check, you know… you’re angry at me because-”

before he can finish you snap your head in his direction with an unbelieving look. your earrings catch the light from the lamp in front of you and you can see san glare at them with not-so-subtle disdain. “san!”

his arms shoot up from his hips and his shoulders tense up in an exaggerated shrug. “what?! i just want to understand! are you going to blame me for it?!”

“fuck yes i am! it’s been a week, san! i’ve been talking about tomorrow for a week, and you don’t even remember?! how am i supposed to take it?!”

“okay, but what is tomorrow?!”

“just say you’re sorry!”

he dramatically gasps, holding a hand to his chest in offense, and you have to roll your eyes because you know that from his stubborn point of view, you just asked the unimaginable. 

you just told him to walk in the sun without his protective amulet; you ordered him to feed on a puppy; you had the nerve to ask him if he could sell his original pikachu illustrator pokemon card for you to buy other silver jewelry. you horrible, beautiful creature, how could you. 

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to be sorry for! i can’t apologize every time someone tells me to! i have a reputation!”

you scoff while applying your mascara in the mirror. “yeah, the reputation of being insufferable,” you mutter under your breath.

“i heard tha-”

“oh, i know! of course, you heard that, but apparently, you didn’t hear what i have been annoying all our friends with for a full week. even mingi knows what tomorrow is!”

he raises a finger, clearly offended by the fact that mingi of all people, stands on a step above him in your imaginary staircase of respect, and is about to say something before he just stops, lips in a thin line and eyebrows in a confused frown. 

you look at him as he mentally scrambles to find in his vast memories what exactly you're talking about, and you can’t stop yourself from thinking that he looks so cute, flustered like this. not an immortal being at all. you do your best to suppress a smile. 

after all, you physically need to keep playing with him a little more.

you’re not really that upset with him if you have to be completely honest. tomorrow is not as important as you’re making it out to be, but your fatal flaw is pettiness and you’ll die on the hill you’re finally standing on. you’ve been waiting so long for him to be the one to forget something important it’s not even funny at this point.

since you’ve met the vampire, you’re the only one who’s ever had to apologize and beg for forgiveness for missing "important" dates like his death anniversary (you weren’t even together at the time! who just remembers something like that!?), his party for the 233rd year from the french revolution (...), and your third monthiversary (in your defense you didn’t even know it was a thing), and he has always looked at your internal panic with the fakest annoyance and a small, smug smile. 

he loved and still loves watching you come up with dumb excuses, and you just want- no, you need to feel what it’s like to possess such immense power.

while he contemplates all the choices that led him to this exact moment, you finish getting ready —spraying the expensive perfume he got you for your birthday— and wait for him to say something, anything. your arms crossed and an expectant expression on your blushed face.

one more minute of waiting and he sighs exasperatedly, his head shaking slightly in resignation. “alright, look–” arms reaching in your direction and palms out, you know from the soft smile that plays on his rosy lips, that he’s ready to make you win this time– “i’ll try harder to remember after dinner. you’re right, and i’m sorry for forgetting something important to you.” 

victory.

he moves to gently unclasp your crossed arms, and you barely manage to escape his touch with an alarmed expression.

“what? what is it? i said i’m sorry.” he looks so lost and so cute you want to forget the date and cuddle him till one of you falls asleep. but you opt for an airy laugh and start taking off your jewelry.

“i've got silver all over me, sannie. apparently, not even that can keep you away, uh?”

he cackles, and once you’re free from the shackles that keep you away from him, he doesn’t waste time hugging your waist, effectively gluing you to his body. “oh, but baby, what’s a little pain compared to how much i already burn for you? i’d endure hell and what comes after that, marry you in a church if it meant i’d be able to hold you like this forever.”

stupid san and his old-man slick talk. stupid san and his honeyed, deep voice. stupid san and his love declarations on friday evenings after you fake-fight and makeup.

you hide your face in his neck. your blush creeps from your cheeks down your neck, and your next words are small, shyly mumbled against his cold skin that’s giving you some needed, sweet relief from the hot, humid air sticking to your skin and making you go crazy. “stop… we’re gonna be late for dinner…” 

he chuckles, places one swift kiss on your forehead, and lets you go, albeit reluctantly. “speaking of which. what are we eating?”

“italian.” you run past him and out of your bedroom with a high-pitched giggle before you can see the bewildered and seriously affronted look on his handsome face.

“ARE YOU STILL ANGRY AT ME?! TALK TO ME!”

san knows you hate summer just like he can’t physically stand garlic so he doesn’t take well to your teasing. 

FOURTH SUMMER TOGETHER.

san knows you hate summer and you love him. 

he wishes it could be summer all year long so you’d always look for his cold body when you can’t fall asleep during hot nights and hum in contempt as he mindlessly caresses your face. when it’s winter he wishes summer could come faster so he can finally feel the years pass. so he can finally see you grow and flourish and become more beautiful every time the earth does another lap around the sum. 

san knows you hate summer but he looks at you strangling his body in your hold like your life depends on it, and he can't help but thank fate or whatever it was that made you drop your bed down the stairs four years ago. he thanks seonghwa for bailing on you. he thanks you for being so enticingly weird and having friends who are just like him.

san knows you hate summer but another year with you adds another sweet and sweaty meaning to his immortal existence. 

[aufucker]

CW: descriptions of corpse decay, mention of drug overdose, childhood trauma

It was summer.

You were young when your mom died. Too young to understand. You thought she was just sleeping and refused to wake up.

And she stayed asleep. You gave her your stuffed rabbit, a floppy thing of a light shade of brown with embroidered eyes. It stayed with her the whole time. She was asleep for days.

It was summer.

You were a responsible kid, you thought. You fed yourself. Bathed yourself. Took yourself to bed. You tried every day to wake her up. She started to look strange, swollen and her skin looked bruised. You thought you could see her eyes trying to open. She started to smell bad. She needed to be more like you, you knew how to take a bath all by yourself.

It was summer.

You didn't try to wake her up anymore. You didn't want to look at her. You couldn't explain it, but the sight of her face made you uncomfortable. Her mouth opened at some point, it looked black inside and her lips looked purple and she was all the colors she shouldn't be, so far from the warm brown that matched you. Everything smelled so saccharine and it burned your nose. Your rabbit looked more red. You were getting hungry.

When you knocked on the neighbor's apartment door, you didn't expect the police to be called. You thought you were in trouble. You didn't expect people with masks and white fabric suits to take away the stiff and blackened bedding that held your mother's imprint, her shadow, her

Bio. You knew that now. Waste. Hazard. Filth. Disease.

When you were a kid, you sobbed when they bagged up your rabbit, soaked with red turned black and wriggling with freeloading maggots. You were scolded for interrupting the cleaner, you shouldn't have been there in the first place.

Behind the mask, you saw how her tired eyes were. A tired you understand intimately now. But you saw her tired eyes crinkle behind her re-breather and heard her muffled voice, alien but tender, "I'll get 'im cleaned up for you, okay honey? Your bunny just… needs a good bath. Okay?"

You know now that you never got that rabbit back. You know now your mother took too many opioids, as she usually did. But back then, you were none the wiser.

Back then, a barely familiar woman went out of her way to find you, all to give you a stuffed rabbit, a floppy thing of a light shade of brown with embroidered eyes, fresh and new.

It was summer. You hate the heat.