#Clean Glass Pool Fencing

[fencingandgates]

Simple Steps to Clean Glass Pool Fencing Installation

Laminated or toughened glass is swiftly becoming the preferred choice of people getting swimming pool installation done around the property. This material ensures clean, clear and luxurious looks compared to steel, timber, aluminium, PVC and others. Another advantage is that cleaning is super easy, and you must follow some straightforward steps. A quick review of steps to clean swimming pool fencing is presented in this post.

Quick Hosing

There should be no confusion related to cleaning glass pool fencing installations, as hosing is the simplest and the most effective step to clean dirt and debris. Any dirt will blow away with a regular stream of water, and following these steps will help clean the fencing to perfection.

Removing Away The Dirt Build-Up

Some stubborn dirt and build-up will surely be there on security pool fencing installations that have not been cleaned for a couple of months. This stubborn dirt is the best place to start the cleaning process using a piece of newspaper.

Warm And Soapy Water

Your glass pool fencing installations will be straightforward to clean with warm and soapy water. Just mix the regular dishwashing soap in warm water and dip a sponge to clean stubborn marks. Once cleaning is done, regular hosing down one more time will be required to bring glass pool fencing in new conditions.

Cleaning The Fittings

Frameless glass pool fencing and semi-frameless pool fencing installations are fitted with marine-grade stainless steel fixings. They don't require too much cleaning, and whatever cleaning is required, you can offer with the tips provided here.

Stainless steel can be cleaned with a gentle cloth dipped in warm, soapy water. This will eliminate all the dirt build-up, and tougher stains will also go away quickly. Once this cleaning is done, you can hose down the entire installation to remove any soap residue from the pool fencing. A good rinsing is highly effective in bringing back the shine and giving it a crisp and clear look.

Apart from these cleaning strategies, experts also recommend staying vigilant and continuing frequent cleaning. This will ensure that there will be no dirt build-up, and in-depth cleaning will be easier.

[crescendence]

Poolhouse Poolhouse Sydney Inspiration for a mid-sized, modern backyard renovation with a rectangular infinity pool

[yungistiny]

back of the net ═ chapter two

[ J. YUNHO / S. MINGI ]

chapter two: my turn

╚═════════

summary: yunho and mingi are the star football players and they have never wanted anything more then their coach’s daughter

warning: creampie, unprotected sex, size kink, public orgasm, dom yunho, dom mingi, sub reader, double penetration, bisexual mingi

pairing: yungi x afab/reader

genre: smut, romance, polyamory

word count: 5.7k

chapter one

chapter three coming soon

masterlist

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Mingi was getting agitated.

He hadn’t seen or heard from Yunho since Halloween night and that was over a day ago. He had asked Wooyoung where his roommate was and he only smirked in response. “Haven’t seen him.” He lied.

Mingi knew he’d see him today though. Yunho never missed practice and they had a big game tomorrow.

“Mingi!”

Mingi jumped at coach calling him, pulling him from his thoughts and out of the pacing he had been doing. “Yeah, coach?” He asked jogging over and just missing the ball Wooyoung kicked flying straight passed Mingi’s head.

“Nice kick, Wooyoung.” Coach praised causing Wooyoung to smirk and snicker at Mingi’s glare. “Where’s your other half at?” Coach had his arms folded across his chest, not looking at Mingi, focused on his players practicing on the field. “Practice started five minutes ago.”

“He…” Mingi was trying to rack his brain around a good enough lie because he had no idea where his best friend was at and coach was not a fan of tardiness. “He’s uhhhh…..” And then there he was. Yunho running onto the field, stopping beside them, dropping his bag.

“You’re late.” Coach didn’t spare him a glance. Yunho was breathing hard as he had ran all the way across campus after waking up late, something he never did but he had been so comfortable cuddled up with y/n, the coach’s daughter still asleep in his bed after she had returned to his dorm yesterday after disappearing long enough to get some clean clothes and shower.

*Wooyoung had laughed, amused as he lounged on his own bed. “Coach is gonna kill you.”

“Sorry, coach.” Yunho didn’t even try to come up with a lie, he was too giddy, practically bouncing on his feet like a damn puppy. “Suicide runs, around the field, ten of them. Go.” Coach left no room for excuses or argument.

Mingi watched his best friend run onto the field, smiling like an idiot the entire time he accepted his punishment. He wanted to corner him, ask him where the hell he had been? If he was doing who or what Mingi thinks he was doing.

“Mingi,” Coach snapped him out of his gaze on Yunho. “you gonna stand there all day or practice. Or do you prefer to run with your buddy?”

Fuck that! Mingi was not running no suicides no matter how much he wanted to interrogate Yunho. He’d wait until after practice.

Yunho had finished his suicide runs, covered in sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. He discarded his shirt, grabbing his water bottle from his bag and gulping the now lukewarm water down.

Mingi narrowed his eyes at Yunho, his gaze zeroing in on the dark bruised looking marks scattered on his chest, one directly on his collarbone. He was fucking someone and Mingi had an inkling suspicion on who that someone is.

His suspicions were all but confirmed when the person he had in mind made her way towards coach. Y/N had some takeout bag in her hand that Mingi couldn’t quite see as he didn’t have his glasses. She was wearing an oversized hoodie that no one else would take a second look at, a burgundy university hoodie that almost everyone at school had. It was all too familiar to Mingi though.

The small hole visible on the bottom right side of the worn hoodie where Yunho had gotten it hung and tore it on a fence in freshman year when they had been hazed into the team and found themselves climbing a fence into the backyard of coach’s house. There mission was to drain his pool. Just add that onto some of the dumb shit they have done.

Mingi’s gaze moved away from y/n who was handing the takeout bag to her dad towards his best friend who wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was shamelessly staring at her in his hoodie.

As if Yunho sensed Mingi’s eyes on him, he turned and smirked at him. Mingi gasped, his suspicions confirmed. He fucked her. He was fucking her. He was fucking her without him.

ASSHOLE!

“FUCK!” Mingi did not see the ball being kicked his way, no time to move or block it from hitting him right in the balls. He dropped to the ground, groaning, wheezing a little from the pain.

“Sorry!” Yeosang apologized, trying not to smirk. “Dude,” Wooyoung and Jongho both started laughing. “You’re a menace.”

“Yeosang, please refrain from injuring Mingi before the game.”

“Sorry coach!” Yeosang wasn’t sorry at all.

Yunho walked over, standing over Mingi who had balled himself up in the fetal position, hands holding his aching balls. “Rough day?”

“Fuck you.” Mingi glared up at him, groaning.

Y/N watched Mingi swat at Yunho’s leg, Yunho laughing at him before reaching a hand down to pull him up. Her gaze lingered on Yunho’s shirtless body and she blushed when she noticed the very visible markings she had left on him.

She had spent the better part of the last 24 hours tangled up with him.

“I swear,” her dad rolled his eyes as he shook his head at Yunho and Mingi. “If they weren’t as good of players as they are…” he trailed off with a sigh. They may be Seungcheol’s best players but they always managed to vex him.

“They’re not so bad.” Y/N remarked, her dad noticing her lingering gaze. “Don’t you dare.”

“What?” She jumped, she hadn’t realized she was still staring at Yunho. “Mingyu, him, I could deal with him.” Seungcheol pointed a finger towards Yunho and Mingi who were talking now in hushed conversation, Mingi still holding his now slightly bruised balls. “One of them…..” he shook his head. “I’d end up killing one of them.”

“Dad!” Y/N let out a guffawed laugh. Lying through her teeth as she shoved her hands into the pocket of Yunho’s hoodie. “I would never.”

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“Fuck, dude!” Mingi winced when Yunho dropped the ice pack in his lap. His balls still hurt well after practice was over. The locker room had cleared, Wooyoung was the only one left behind with them taking his time in the showers.

“You fucked her.” Mingi pouted. “You fucked her while she was dressed up as Power. You know I love Power!”

Yunho rolled his eyes not able to fight the grin on his lips. “I’m sure she can pull the costume back out just for you.” He smirked. “She could leave it on during.”

“Did…” Mingi tossed the ice pack on the bench beside him as Yunho sat down next to him. “did you ask her?”

“Actually she asked me, well, she asked if we share.” Yunho pulled a towel atop his head, drying as much of his wet head as he could. “So I told her only if she wanted us to.”

“What did she say?” Mingi would not admit that he was jealous. Jealous that Yunho got to have her first.

Mingi watched as a glazed over look crossed Yunho’s face, him biting his bottom lip to keep from grinning as he remembered that first night. How y/n had dropped to her knees for him.

“I hate you.” Mingi pouted.

“You love me.” Smirked Yunho.

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It was game night. Almost the entire university was at the stadium. The lights bright lighting up the green field. The opposing university students on the opposite side wearing a murky looking green, their mascot being a crocodile.

“It’s cold.” Karina clung to y/n, finally feeling better from the cold she had. The two girls followed Jungwoo into the stadium, y/n gripping the back of his shirt to not get separated in the mass of people still trying to get food or to their seats before the game started. They had great seats, close seats thanks to y/n being the coach’s daughter.

The November temperature had dropped drastically, puffs of white steam leaving their mouths in the night air. As soon as they got seated, Jungwoo was squished between the two girls so they could use him for warmth, not that he was complaining about having two beautiful women cuddle him.

The cheers of the crowd suddenly erupted as the teams ran out on the field. Y/N spotted Yunho and Mingi, they gripped each other’s shoulders, foreheads touching as they yelled Mingi’s quote. The *fix on could be read on their lips. “Do you think those two….” Karina trailed off as she too had been watching the twin towers.

“What?” Y/N asked not catching onto what her roommate was implying. “You know….” Karina smirked. “are together…”

“What?” Y/N furrowed her brows, surely Karina wasn’t saying what she thinks she’s saying. “Like….. sleeping together?”

“Why not?” Jungwoo quipped. “They share everything, maybe they share each other too.”

Y/N blinked, once, twice, her gaze finding Yunho and Mingi once more. The thought of them doing to each other what herself and Yunho had done, three times already, caused y/n face to heat up, blush creeping her cheeks. The image her brain conjuring up suddenly making her aroused, clenching her legs together and facing the field, puff of white smoke blowing out between her lips as she let out a breath.

This was gonna be a long game.

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Despite the cold, Mingi was covered in sweat but at least they were winning. He stood next to Yunho as they both rehydrated during a fastbreak, breaths heavy, panting. Yunho popped his neck, stretching and his gaze found the bleachers. He saw y/n with Jungwoo and Karina, smirking and waving at her. She bit her lip to keep from smiling and turned towards Karina. Yunho hadn’t seen her since yesterday and he was already missing her.

“What was that?”

“What?” Y/N turned towards her roommate, avoiding Yunho’s staring so she wouldn’t blush and make it more obvious. “That!” Karina pointed at Yunho who was still watching her while gulping down a bottle of water. “And you’re blushing! Did you sleep with him?”

“Oh! You mean they finally succeeded?” Jungwoo grinned joining Karina and giggling at y/n now red face. “What do you mean succeeded?”

Jungwoo rolled his eyes. “It’s no secret Yunho and Mingi have wanted you since freshman year.”

Y/N let the words sink in, looking back to the field as the game started up again. She didn’t confirm her roommate and Jungwoo’s suspicions. How had she not noticed it? Why had Yunho and Mingi never made a move before? Her and Mingyu hadn’t started officially dating until the end of freshman year, they had plenty of time.

The answer should be obvious. Her dad.

Choi Seungcheol had always been overprotective with his only daughter. His only child. It’s why it had taken Mingyu so long to finally ask her out. It’s why y/n went all of high school without having a single first date. It’s why she had to go to every single school dance with Yeosang. Going to an international high school she even had to go to prom with Yeosang.

Y/N was wondering what suddenly changed Yunho and Mingi’s minds? Was it because Mingyu was no longer in the picture? The eruption of cheers from the crowd pulled her out of her thoughts. Mingi had scored, their team leading by a landslide.

“Gonna be another undefeated season.” Jungwoo sat back down after standing up to yell with the crowd. “You two want to come with me to the after party at Outlaw Customs?”

“Last time I was at a party, DK’s ass was on fire.” Y/N snorted as said man was taking a water break from the game and laughing at Hoshi in the mascot suit. Go tigers! She wondered if his ass was ok?

“I’m in.” Karina nodded adjusting her hood on her head. “I’ve been sick and stuck in the dorm for too long! I even had to miss Halloween.”

“Sure,” y/n sniffled, her nose trying to stop up in the cold air. “need to go back to the dorm and change first.” She wanted to change out of her jean pants and sweater, suddenly wanting to mess with Yunho and Mingi. They waited four years to make a move, Mingi still yet to, and y/n decided that tonight could possibly be his turn.

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They won the game.

Of course they did.

Mingi was drying his hair after showering as coach gave the same speech he always did after they won. “I would say don’t go out and get completely fucked up but some of you…” coach gave a pointed look towards Yunho and Mingi. “never listen to a single word I say.”

“Come on, coach,” Yunho grinned. “you know we’re your best hungover players.” He joked, coach rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Celebrate but remember we have another game at the end of the week so I need you all focused.”

Mingi sat down beside Yunho, nudging his shoulder with his own. “If y/n is at the party tonight, what’s the plan?” Yunho furrowed his brows as he pulled his favorite converse on his feet. “Plan? We still need a plan?” He asked tying his shoe laces.

“What happens if she doesn’t want us to share? What happens if she just wants you?” Mingi was all serious, what if y/n did want what they wanted? What if Yunho was the only one she wanted? The only one she needed? Mingi was starting to get jealous and he had to shove the emotion deep down and ignore it.

Mingi would back off if it came to that. He’d let Yunho have her no matter how much he wanted her too. If she’s what made his best friend happy and that’s what y/n wanted. Even if Mingi had to fight that little jealousy monster everyday.

Yunho didn’t have an answer because truthfully he hadn’t thought about it. He wanted to say that he’d end it. That he’d couldn’t do that to Mingi knowing his best friend liked her just as much as himself. But he’d be lying. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Mingi wanted to argue but they were interrupted by Wooyoung and Jongho. “If you two are riding with us, Mingi better hurry up and get dressed.” Jongho pulled his jacket on, him being their ride to the after party.

They watched Mingi rush to get dressed, dropping the towel from around his waist and almost tripping over his own feet. “Sorry” he apologized after flashing everything he had to Yeosang who had come face to face with his dick when he stood up from stumbling.

Yeosang glared at him, grabbing his bag and leaving the locker room.

He had overheard everything Mingi and Yunho had said to each other.

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Outlaw Customs was a local club just off campus where the football team’s winning games were always celebrated. Mingi was on his third shot of soju by the time he had spotted y/n. She was laughing at something Jungwoo was saying where their group sat a table in the back corner of the club just to the side of the bar. Yeosang, Karina and Minghao sat with them.

Mingi got Yunho’s attention, grabbing one last shot, tossing his head back, the liquor no longer leaving a burn down his throat. He raked his hand through his hair, readjusting his black leather jacket over the black tank top he wore, the sleeves wrinkled from being rolled up. “My turn.” He slammed the shot glass down on the bar causing Yunho to chuckle and shake his head.

“Will you look at that,” Minghao spotted Mingi first, making his way towards them. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen one without the other.” His comment caused everyone to follow his gaze, Yeosang glaring at Mingi while y/n felt her heart beat pick up. She had seen Yunho and Mingi taking shots at the bar and had started to think they were never going to notice her.

He looked good. His bleached blonde hair with the roots dark. Ripped jeans and leather jacket. Hands adorned with silver rings and nails painted black. “Y/N,” Mingi’s gaze was dark, practically devouring the sight of her in the black mini dress she wore, her thighs exposed as it rid up from where she sat beside Yeosang. “can I talk to you?”

Y/N didn’t dare look at the smirk both Minghao and Karina were giving her. She certainly didn’t meet the glare Yeosang was trying to penetrate into Mingi as if it would make the taller man disappear. Jungwoo was already too drunk to care what was going on. Yeosang wanted to stop her as she stood up but refrained. He knew it would only end with her mad at him.

Y/N had snapped at him for interrogating her on her whereabouts Halloween night and the following night after he had crashed into her speed walking down the hall of his dormitory where she clearly wasn’t there to see him, she had been in an oversized shirt that ended almost at her knees and sweats that were clearly too big for her. He tried talking to her but she said she was in a rush and avoided his incessant questions before snapping.

“I am an adult and where or who I was with is none of your business unless I want to tell you.”

Yunho lived on Yeosang floor so it didn’t take much to guess especially after he overheard Mingi and him earlier that night to realize his best friend had fell into their scheming little game. All he could do now was watch her follow Mingi. “Guess she’ll finally figure out if they share or not.” Minghao grinned into his glass of beer.

Mingi could feel Yunho’s eyes staring at them as he lead y/n into the mass of dancing people, the music loud, bass thrumming. Y/N gasped, breath hitching as Mingi spun her around, pulling her back flushed against his chest and suddenly she was remembering Yunho doing something similarly at the Halloween Party.

His hands were warm against her, the heat from him felt through the fabric of her dress. She felt herself shiver as he leaned his head down, lips grazing her ear, breath warm and scented of the soju he had been drinking. “Yunho told me you asked him a question…”

Y/N reached her hands to place atop his on her waist. “A question?”

Mingi tightened his grip on her, lips tracing down her neck. “Do you want us to share?” Mingi decided to just ask his own question. He felt it when y/n breath hitched. Felt the way she pressed back into him more. Mingi let out a deep moan at the way her ass pressed against his dick now growing hard in his pants.

“Yes.”

Her answer about sent him to his knees. His gaze caught Yunho’s hard stare from where he leaned back on his elbows against the bar, watching them. Mingi found himself grinning and Yunho smirked. She did want them both.

“But,” Y/N pulled away from him just enough to move so she could face him, hooking her hands into the waistband of his jeans and pulling herself flushed against him. She had to lean her head back to look up at him, bringing a hand up to tangle with his hair. “right now I just want you.”

Well who was Mingi to fucking deny her?

He grabbed her hand, leading her back over to where her friends were still sitting to grab her coat. “Are you leaving?” Minghao asked causing Yeosang to whip his head around from where he had been in the midst of his own head thrown back to drink a shot of soju.

“Yeah, I see you guys tomorrow.” Y/N grabbed her coat, pulling it on and around herself. “Can you drop him off at the dorms?” Minghao pushed Jungwoo’s passed out form off of his shoulder causing the drunk man to flail.

“Yeah, we’re riding with Jongho.” Mingi pulled Jungwoo up, slinging an arm around him. Y/N followed him not aware they would be riding with Jongho. If he saw her with Mingi he’d might assume she’s going back with him to fuck him. Which she was but Jongho didn’t need to know that!

Yunho noticed them moving towards Jongho and Wooyoung who were talking and drinking with Hoshi and DK. Time to go.

“Jongho, man, let’s go before you’re too drunk to drive us!” Mingi leaned Jungwoo against Wooyoung who had to wrap his arms around the barely conscious man.

“We leaving?” Yunho was there and suddenly y/n felt small, that pit in her stomach feeling as if it was on fire being between the two best friends.

Y/N felt Mingi lean over her, saying something into Yunho’s ear.

“Alright, fine,” Jongho pulled his keys from his pocket, standing up from the stool he had been sitting on. “let’s go.”

They followed Jongho out, Yunho helping Wooyoung drag Jungwoo. “Y/N” Wooyoung smirked at her as he left the drunken Jungwoo to Yunho who glared at him as he sauntered up, slinging his arm around her shoulders and pulling her away from Mingi. “just a warning, that one is a spanker.” He giggled when y/n blushed. It was no secret Wooyoung had slept with Mingi a few times back during sophomore year, a kind of friends with benefits situation before Wooyoung met his boyfriend Choi San, a pre med student he had met one night in itaewon.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho snatch him by the back of his jacket as Mingi pulled y/n back to his side. “shut up!” Yunho hissed, shoving Jungwoo back against him as they arrived at Jongho’s car. That one is a spanker. Y/N face was still red from Wooyoung’s words. She’d never been spanked during sex before. Hell she’d never been spanked at all before.

“Put him in first.” Yunho held the back door on the passenger side open so Wooyoung could sit him inside, Jungwoo’s head resting on the window, passed completely out, once the door was shut. Yunho crawled in the back through the other side, situating himself in the middle as Wooyoung plopped himself in the passenger seat up front.

“Hold on.” Mingi bent his head down as he squished himself next to Yunho, groaning when his knees started digging into the driver’s seat. “Wait,” Jongho reached down, pulling a small lever so that the seat would give a little room just enough so that Mingi wasn’t crushed. “there.”

“Come here.” Mingi patted his thigh and y/n bit her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth. She was gonna have to sit in his lap the entire time. She decided to mess with him. Mingi let out a groan as she practically plopped her ass against him, wiggling around as if it to make herself comfortable. Was she trying to kill him? His dick was already hard, straining in his pants. He turned his head towards Yunho who was fucking snickering.

“Enough.” Mingi’s voice was stern, a bit strained, as he wrapped an arm around y/n middle, holding her in place. Y/N stilled her teasing movements, feeling her arousal grow at the tone of his voice in her ear. She started grinding her ass against him then as Jongho started the drive back to campus.

“Yunho…” Mingi spoke just high enough that his best friend could hear over Jungwoo’s snores and the music now blaring from the radio. He guided his hand that wasn’t attached to the arm wrapped around y/n towards her thigh. “I think we have a brat.”

Yunho smirked as he watched Mingi’s hand disappear between y/n thighs, thank god Wooyoung turned the radio up loud and it was dark.

Y/N let out a little gasp when she felt Mingi pause right before touching her where she wanted him to most. “Can I?” He was practically begging her and she glanced up to the front where Jongho certainly wasn’t paying any attention other then his eyes on the road and Wooyoung was too busy scrolling his phone while singing loudly to whatever song would play from the radio.

Jungwoo let out a loud snore and Wooyoung turned the music up louder.

“Please….”Now y/n was the one begging and Mingi wasted no time slipping his ring and index finger inside her panties that were already wet. “Fuck…” he growled against her neck as Yunho moved slightly to conceal Mingi’s movements from sight in case Wooyoung turned around or Jungwoo decided to wake up. “she’s already fucking soaking.”

Yunho stretched his arm to rest around Mingi’s shoulders, his hand reaching to cover y/n mouth just as a moan started to escape her as Mingi started rubbing her aching clit.

Y/N takes back what she had thought back when she had Yunho’s dick down her throat.

This was the filthiest thing she had ever done.

“Don’t put your fingers in her,” Yunho smirked whispering against Mingi’s ear as his best friend continued to rub y/n now swollen clit. “she’s a squirter.”

Mingi had to bury his face in y/n hair to muffle his moan at the information. The want to make her make a mess in the backseat of Jongho’s car oh so tempting.

Y/N was close, the familiar feeling of her orgasm approaching and when Yunho’s hand moved from covering her mouth to wrapping around her throat, she did cum, moaning muffled by the slight grip Yunho had on her. She had never been choked before and had no idea she’d like it that much.

Mingi’s arm around her tightened as she rocked against him through her orgasm just as Jongho pulled into campus. Yunho removed his hand from her throat, pulling his arm back from around Mingi as the car began to slow down in front of the dorm buildings.

Wooyoung was the first out the car when they stopped, yanking the back door open and having to grab Jungwoo before he plummeted to the ground. He jolted awake, blanching at his surroundings before calming down when noticing Wooyoung.

Yunho followed out next, stretching after being squeezed in the backseat before walking around the car to open Mingi’s door as it was difficult to maneuver with y/n still coming down in his lap. “Come on.” Yunho reached inside to help y/n out, pulling her against him and taking the opportunity when Wooyoung turned his nosy back to them, helping Jungwoo inside their dorm building, to steal a kiss from y/n before Mingi took her away for the night.

Y/N gripped at Yunho’s jacket, kissing him back, biting his bottom lip lightly causing him to moan as Mingi emerged out of the car.

“I’m gonna go park.” Jongho announced from the drivers window he had rolled down, not paying them any attention. Yunho pulled away from the kiss first, allowing Mingi to intertwine his ringed hand with y/n, pulling her towards him as Jongho drove off.

Y/N followed behind Yunho, gripping Mingi’s hand as they walked inside the same exact dorm building she had been with just Yunho not a couple nights before. Was this really happening? Was she really about to have sex with both of them?

The answer was no.

Yunho whispered something in Mingi’s ear before turning to look at y/n, hand gently grabbing her chin and leaning down to kiss her one more time. “He’s gonna fucking ruin you, baby.”

Y/N was left speechless as she watched Yunho disappear up the stairs to the third floor where his dorm room was located. “This way.” Mingi tugged her hand gently to follow him down a hall on the first floor to where his and Mark Lee’s own dorm room was. Thank god Mark was out for the night, probably somewhere with Yuta.

As soon as they were both inside the dorm, Mingi shutting and locking the door behind him, y/n found herself pinned against the same door, Mingi’s hands holding her own against the door behind her, kissing her, nipping at her bottom lip and slipping his tongue inside to tangle with her own, pushing her coat off as he did, the material slipping down her arms and dropping to the floor.

“Mingi…” y/n gasped, breathless as he started sucking at a spot on her neck. “Can I eat your pussy?” He had just fingered her in a car with his friends present, unbeknownst to them of course, and he was still asking permission? Y/N probably would have swooned if she weren’t so needy and horny at the moment. “You can do whatever you want…” she moaned as he licked at the mark he had made on her neck.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Mingi dropped to his knees so fast at her answer that it took y/ n a moment to realize he was no longer towering over her. His hands pushed her dress up, burying his face against her, nose nudging her clit still behind her soaked panties.

Then he was looking up at her, slowly pulling her panties down her legs, never breaking his eye contact with her. Even as he helped her take off her shoes he didn’t look away from her.

The eye contact finally broke after Mingi hitched her up, draping her right leg over his shoulders and diving his tongue straight into her. Y/N moaned, one hand gripping the locked doorknob and the other tangling into his hair, gripping tightly and pulling when he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Fuck…. please…..” she had no idea what she were blabbering about, blindly rocking her hips against him, Mingi flattening his tongue against her to let her fuck herself on his tongue before pulling back, looking up at her and smirking. “ Yunho said you’re a squirter….”

“FUCK!” A moaning scream left y/n when two of Mingi’s fingers thrusted into her easily from how wet and ready she was, stretching her and her walls clenching around them. “I want you to squirt for me, baby….” Mingi brought his mouth back to her, growling into her. “I want to see too.”

One suck, two licks and a moan from Mingi against her clit and y/n was gushing all over his face that seemed to only make Mingi moan and fuck her faster with his fingers, her juices spraying him, dripping and leaking all over him. He was fucking drowning in her and he needed more.

“Mingi…. I can’t….” She was growing overstimulated and Mingi pulled back, dropping her leg from his shoulder and towering over her once again, kissing her and loving the way she moaned tasting herself on his tongue.

Y/N would have dropped to her knees next, took him in her mouth, see how far he could go but it seemed Mingi had a different idea. He moved her over towards his bed, his black sheets would be ruined. “I’m gonna take this off.” He helped her out of her dress, chunking the material to land on Mark’s bed.

Once she was fully naked Mingi made quick work of his own clothes and Y/N suspicions were confirmed. He was just as big as Yunho, a bit less girth but a tad bit longer. Her eyes watched him stroke himself a few times before he went rummaging around in a drawer in the small table beside his bed. He was searching for a condom.

“Wait.” Y/N stopped him, Mingi turning to arch a brow at her, thinking perhaps she had changed her mind. “I’m on the pill.” She repeated the same words she had said to Yunho and Mingi felt his dick twitch. Holy shit! Was she telling him to fuck her raw? Did she let Yunho? Well she certainly didn’t have to tell Mingi twice. He slammed the table drawer back shut and moved back towards her.

After Mingi took a moment to nuzzle, nip at and mark her breast, y/n found herself atop his bed, on her knees, ass up and elbows digging into the mattress as Mingi lined himself up behind her. “Fuck!” She jumped, flinched and pressed forward when Mingi licked his hand before slapping her ass, one cheek and then the other, the skin turning a slight shade of red.

“just a warning, that one is a spanker.”

Mingi gripped a hand on each side of her ass, gripping and kneading before returning them back to her hips. “You ready to take me?” He glided a hand down her back, up her spine and then back down to her hips. “Yeah you are.”

He pushed his length fully inside her, stretching her and filling her. A guttural moan from deep within his chest erupted from him as he allowed her perfectly tight walls to relax around him before he pulled almost all the way out and slamming back into her.

Then he was fucking her, y/n face burying into the sheets, her hands gripping the fabric tightly. “Look at you…. you’re creaming on me….” Mingi almost came at the sight of the white milky arousal wrapped around his dick as it plunged deeper into her finding that spot, the perfect little wall of sponge deep deep inside her that had her a whimpering, moaning and crying mess.

It was the way he was rolling his hips, hands gripping her own hips tightly, pulling her back against him, helping her meet him thrust for thrust. Y/N felt her legs shaking, the scream erupting from her muffled in the sheets as she came.

“Shit…” Mingi slammed into her only a couple more thrusts before he came inside her, cum mixing with her own, their juices practically leaking out of her when Mingi pulled out.

Y/N was a shaking, overstimulated mess as Mingi kneeled behind her, lapping his tongue at their mixture, tongue darting inside her once again.

He was thankful Mark was going to be gone all night because Mingi was far from done with her.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

tag list: @straycat420 @vtyb23 @saintriots @minkysmilk @gigikubolong29 @midnightrebel1028 @whyismingi @atzlordz

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 12

Hey guys, can you believe that there are only three chapters after this one of this lovely fic? Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented, and reblogged this story.

In this we see Max and Lucas flirting with the idea of flirting with each other, Eddie takes care of Steve, and we meet the raccoon. ;)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

“Max!” Susan hissed, with a hint of giggle in her voice.

Steve, who was in the kitchen preparing lunch, stopped what he was doing and looked out the window.

There, leaning on the low brick and iron wrought fence, was Max, staring at something in the distance.

“Max!” Susan cried, her voice high with suppressed giggles. “Stop staring!”

The girl finally must have heard her mother because she jumped two feet straight in the air. Max mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an apology and then they came back in through the back door.

“We’re all done for the day,” Susan said brightly and sneaked a glance over at her daughter. “Someone was a little lackadaisical today, but we got it done.”

Steve laughed. “It’s fine. You guys do a good job. If some days are a little slower than others I’m sure Eddie doesn’t mind the extra. He loves you ladies.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Max muttered sarcastically. But he didn’t take offense. It was her default state of being most of the time.

“There we go!” he replied. “I just Venmo’ed you the money. Can you confirm you got it?”

Susan pulled out her phone and after a moment or two she nodded. “It’s all good! Thanks so much!”

“No, thank you ladies,” Steve said, putting his phone way. “It’s so hard keeping up with twins as just a nanny, I couldn’t imagine not having other people helping me.”

The Mayfields left and Steve went back to fixing lunch. He was making a potato soup with bacon and cheese and dab of sour cream and it was almost ready. But just as he was taking it off the hob, Lucas and Charles walked in for a drink of water. And suddenly it made sense. What, or rather who Max was looking at.

Because Lucas had taken his shirt off in the oppressive heat of late August and wrapped it around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes.

As they were drinking their water, Steve got out a pitcher of lemonade and poured each of the Sinclair boys a glass. Which they took gratefully.

“Who were those two girls we saw out back today?” Charles asked, handing Steve back his now empty glass.

“Susan Mayfield and her daughter Max,” he replied, putting the glass in the sink. “Max is about Lucas’s age. She’ll be starting up at the local high school next week.”

Charles nudged his son with his elbow. “I told you so.” He turned back to Steve. “So they do the cleaning?”

“Yup!” Steve said with a nod. “The inside anyway. For the grounds, we have Jim Hopper and for the pool, we have you two.”

“Damn,” Lucas said with a low whistle. “It must be nice be rich enough to have separate cleaners for everything. Definitely don’t get that at home.”

Steve nodded. “My parents were lawyer rich growing up so we had someone who came in once a week to clean the big stuff, but for the most part we handled everything else. The cooking, the yard, the day to day stuff for the pool. That was all on us.”

“I didn’t know you grew up rich,” Charles said with frown. “You must really love being a nanny.”

Steve snorted and took their empty glasses from them to wash out in the sink. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my job and especially this one, but when I came out as bisexual, my parents tossed me out. Used my grandparents’ trust fund that left for me to go to school in early childhood development and the rest is history.”

“Well,” Lucas said with a grin, “I’m glad you’re here, because otherwise we wouldn’t have that awesome D&D room to play in and Dustin and them are so cool.”

“I’m glad you guys are having fun,” Steve said with a closed mouth smile.

“It’s been a blast!” Lucas said excitedly. “Plus we found out that Dustin is being transferred to our school. He was being bullied at his last school, so his mom was looking for a new school to send him to and Joyce, Will’s mom suggested our school and he got in!”

All this was stuff Steve knew, of course, but he let Lucas give his news.

Charles ruffled Lucas’s hair. “I’m glad he’s making friends.”

“What’s going to happen once Lucas goes back to school?” Steve asked. “I know plans were for the pool to be drained and covered for the winter in October, but there’s still all of September to think about.”

“We’ll be coming on the weekends,” Charles replied with a smile. “Eddie already talked to us about it, so he must have forgotten to tell you.”

Steve smacked his forehead. “No he did. I’m the one that forgot. Joan has been having nightmares and Janice has been even crankier than her sister over the whole thing.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t imagine taking care of twins. It was bad enough having Lucas and Erica as close together as they were. A toddler and a newborn were not fun, let me tell you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Probably why we stopped at two, if I’m honest.”

“I feel that,” Steve said rubbing his temple. “I’ve already paid you, I did it when I did Susan’s.”

Charles checked his account. “Yup, we’re all good to go.” He clapped Steve on the arm and then they said goodbye.

Steve turned around and gripped the edge of the counter as he fought to breathe normally. Fuck. He was going to have to tell Charles that his cologne or aftershave or whatever was too strong. Sweat started to bead on his temple as he fought not to screw up his eyes as that would only make it worse.

“Steve?” a gentle voice murmured in his ear, concerned.

Steve looked up to see Eddie regarding him in that soft, careful way he does when one of the girls doesn’t feel good.

“There you are,” he murmured. “You okay there, beautiful?”

Steve blinked up at him for a moment before realizing Eddie hadn’t been home long enough for him to experience one of Steve’s migraines.

“I get migraines,” he croaked out. “And they can be triggered by strong scents, like Mr. Sinclair’s cologne.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “Sheesh. Yeah. I can smell it on you pretty intense. Come on, take the shirt off.”

If Steve’s brain hadn’t been trying to leak out of his ears he would have told Eddie to buy him dinner first, but as it was it, he meekly did as he was told. Eddie tossed the shirt into the nearby laundry room and then bundled Steve upstairs. Before he could even protest or let out so much as a whimper, Eddie was back with painkillers and a glass of water from Steve’s bathroom.

Steve took them dutifully, knowing that if he wanted to be a person at all later he would need to take them.

“What about lunch and the girls?” he finally managed to say weakly as Eddie tucked him.

“You do realize I did this by myself for a whole year, right?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow. “I think I can handle a single afternoon without you.”

When Steve whimpered, Eddie let out a sigh. “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I love having you around and taking care of my girls. But you’re human, Stevie and taking an afternoon off will not cause an apocalypse, okay?”

“I thought there was only supposed to be the one apocalypse,” Steve muttered as the painkillers began to filter through the pain.

“Nah,” Eddie said with a grin. “Human has already gone through several. It’s like Ragnarok and the Greek end of the world. It just brings in the next era of humanity. It’s only Christians that think that it’s the one.”

Steve hummed as sleep took over.

Eddie stood up and turned off the light. “You Steve Harrington are going to be the death of me one day. But god, what a way to go.”

~

Eddie made sure to get rid of anything that might trigger Steve’s migraines. He even made Mike go home and change once when he showed up where an entire can of Axe body spray.

He made sure the laundry detergent was scent free, same with the girls’ shampoo. He almost tossed his own cologne before Steve stopped him.

“Most men’s scents are okay,” Steve explained. “Because they don’t use floral or fruit scents. Please don’t stop wearing yours.” He blushed a deep red. “I like it.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shut up but dutifully complied. Always keeping it this side of tasteful, but he began to wear it more often.

The school year started and the raccoon problem increased.

“I just don’t get it,” Hopper growled. “There is only one way to open them and there is no way a raccoon should be able to do it.”

Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Steve was inside with the girls and he was taking care of the problem himself. He had to stop relying so much on Steve for the day-to-day because Steve was only paid to be the nanny, not Eddie’s personal assistant.

“I’m starting to think Steve’s right about it being vagrants,” he muttered. “Because you’re right, no animal should be smart enough to open the bins.”

Hopper sighed. “I don’t mind homeless, it’s not like they want to be there. But I wish they’d come to the house looking for food and not digging it out of the trash.”

Eddie nodded. He had done his own dumpster diving when he was a kid and his dad had been too drunk to remember to buy groceries, never mind toilet paper.

“Any way to lure them out of the shadow and into Benny’s cooking?” he asked.

“I don’t rightly know,” Hopper said with a laugh. “But I’ll figure something out. It seems they know how to dodge the cameras, so I’ll pick up a couple of motion sensor lights so I can see when someone comes around.”

“That will have to do in the mean time,” Eddie said rubbing his cheek thoughtfully. “It’s too bad that it’s a person and not a critter. I think Janie was hopping to tame the poor thing to antagonize her sister.”

Hopper barked out a laugh. “Sounds like her. Well, I best be heading to the hardware store for those lights.”

Eddie watched him go with trepidation. Critters could be rehomed where they’d be safer, but humans? That was a much tougher fish to fry.

~

Suddenly there was a clash, a bang, a clatter followed by an ear piercing scream. Eddie was up out of his bed faster than lightning and made a dash for the girls’ bedroom.

He met Steve outside the door, but when they looked in, both girls were sound asleep. Janice, splayed out like a starfish and Joan, curled up into a little ball.

“If that wasn’t the girls...” Steve said, wide-eyed and panting for breath.

Then there was another clatter and a scream that clearly came from the kitchen. They dashed down the stairs and raced to the kitchen. There standing in the middle of kitchen was a very disgruntled Hopper holding what appeared to be a pile of rags. Until it screamed again.

“Quick!” Hopper huffed. “Close the door!”

Steve dove for the door and locked it behind him as Hopper yelped in pain. He dropped what he was holding and landed on the clean floor with a thud. It scrambled up and away from the groundskeeper, tucking itself in the corner by the pantry.

That’s when Eddie could see what it was. Or rather who. Her head was clipped short but there was no doubt it was a girl, she looked about twelve. Far too thin and gaunt. Her blue eyes darted around as she tried to make herself as small as possible.

“Looks like you caught your raccoon, chief,” Steve said coming up to stand next to Eddie with his hands on his hips.

“I’m not a raccoon,” she huffed. “I have a name.” Then she frowned. “Or I will once I remember it.”

All three men looked at her in varying degrees of shock, concern, and disbelief.

“You don’t remember your name?” Hopper asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. That complicated matters.

“Jane!” the girl shouted startling everyone. “It’s Jane. My name, I mean. Jane Ives.” But instead of filling out with the name, the girl seemed to shrink further from them, like her name was shameful and ill-fitting.

“Does your parents know where you are?” Eddie asked, kneeling down to look her in the eye.

She shook her head. “Never knew my dad, he ran off when my mom got pregnant with me, Mom is in the hospital.”

“Don’t you have anyone you can stay with?” Steve said, kneeling next to Eddie. “Another relative of your mom’s maybe?”

Jane shook her head. “Aunt Becky said she wasn’t equipped to take care of me and Mom so she put me in foster care.”

Eddie closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose, hanging his head between his shoulders.

“Fuck!”

“That’s a bad word,” she said primly.

Hopper chuckled. “It is at that. But what Mr. Munson means is that if you’ve run away from your foster home, you’re gonna be in a world of hurt when we take you back.”

Jane leapt forward and tried to get past Eddie and Steve but they formed an effective blockade keeping her from the door.

“No!” she cried. “I don’t want to go back! They’ll hurt me again!”

Eddie and Hopper shared a glance. They knew. They knew that most foster places where cesspools.

Now they had an even bigger problem.

~

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @yesdangerpls @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon @sadiea20

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Wow, this is 1931 home in Winnetka, Wisconsin is impressive. 9bds, 9ba, $8.9M.

Wow, look at the carved wood walls. There's an original tile floor in the foyer, too, and a leaded glass inner door.

You know, I like the white carpet on the stairs. I wouldn't want to clean it, but it looks beautiful. This home has those bas relief ceilings, too.

Is it the way they're photographing the room to get the ceiling in, or are the ceilings low? The large sitting room has wood paneled walls to match the entrance hall, plus the same ceiling and a beautiful fireplace.

Very classy guest powder room. Black marble floor with white veining, and the marble counter on top of an antique dresser has a sink ringed in gold. The gold wallpaper ties it all in.

Comfy home office. The rounded desk looks art deco and is nestled perfectly in a triad of framed windows.

The library shelving is gorgeous. Oblong octagonal cutouts in carved shelves, and that gorgeous fireplace in the middle has a pediment with a pineapple and a black & white marble surround.

I like this light dining room. Cream and pale blue bas relief ceiling is so soft and stunning.

These cheery bright dining spaces are so pleasing. This is a breakfast room in creamy white and it gets a lot of sun from the windows to the garden.

The kitchen is a professional chef's kitchen. It begins with a large pantry done in the same cream color with large glass paned doors on the cabinets so you can see the dishware. The kitchen cabinetry looks maple and has a cute corner fireplace, black countertops and copper pots hanging over the double island.

At the top of the stairs on the 2nd level is a magnificent oval leaded glass skylight. The glass panes are opalescent. And, there's a large sitting room up here, too.

They've made a walkway between 2 area rugs in the huge primary bedroom. On one side is a lovely mahogany canopy bed that contrasts well against the white room and the other side is a sitting room.

There is a huge home office up hear with a pretty French Provincial desk and a chaise lounge.

The bath is nice, there's a separate room for the toilet, and a lovely vintage marble counter on the sink. Love the rust-colored marble on the floor.

What a lovely guest room. It's so large, there's a huge picture window between 2 full-sized canopy beds.

Down in the large basement is a rec room that looks like the ultimate man cave. Rich dark wood furniture, a red pool table with an unusual pool lamp- it's not the usual stained glass, this fixture has foxes in red waistcoats holding up electric candles - love that.

Wow, man cave indeed. That fireplace is the size of a room. You can definitely walk in there. And, look at the life-sized butler statue in the corner. Is he creepy?

The home gym looks commercial. Mirrored walls and a black ceiling make it look industrial.

Outside, the iron gate makes it look like a secret garden.

The hedges are cut in patterns.

It must cost a fortune to maintain these gardens. The property is 3.25 acres.

Is it me, or does the pool look like a fidget spinner.

I love conservatories and this one is lovely. The plants and wicker furniture really bring the outdoors in.

This is the prettiest tennis court with the trees and latticed fencing.

An elaborate play set for the children looks like it conveys.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/44-Locust-Rd-Winnetka-IL-60093/70453195_zpid/

[steddieas-shegoes]

“You could help, you know.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

Steve was standing in the shallow end of the pool, wearing only his tiny bathing suit shorts, attempting to do the first big clean of the year.

The water was still cold, but it had to be done so they could host the annual pool party to welcome summer.

Eddie was sitting on one of the lounge chairs, drinking a beer and eating the chips that were supposed to be for the party.

Steve was glaring at him, net in hand, visibly shivering from the chill in the water and the air. Eddie had warned him that it was still too cold at night, that the water was gonna be uncomfortable, that the breeze in the air was still too frequent and cold to get in.

But did Steve listen? No.

So instead of helping, Eddie sat and watched.

“We should push the party out a couple more weeks.”

“Ah, but you promised them.”

Eddie kept munching on the chips, knowing that the party would get pushed out because Steve would last maybe five more minutes before giving up.

Steve was a determined son of a bitch, but even his stubbornness wouldn’t get him through this, Eddie was sure of it.

But five minutes passed and Steve remained in the pool, scooping leaves and other debris from the deep end.

His lips were starting to turn blue, but he didn’t complain.

Eddie finished his beer while he watched Steve’s back muscles shift as he moved around the water.

He loved watching Steve’s muscles.

He didn’t love watching Steve freeze to death.

“Sweetheart, maybe we can call it a day. Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, the sun might heat the water up a little.”

“No, I promised.”

Ah. Eddie had been somewhat joking before; He knew the kids would understand if they had to postpone because of it being too cold.

But Steve would never break a promise to them. Not when he could instead suffer greatly.

“Steve.”

Steve ignored him.

Eddie got up from the chair and moved to the edge of the pool, only a few feet from where Steve was focusing on his task much harder than he needed to.

“Steve.”

“I’m more than halfway done. I might as well finish.”

“They’ll understand. Maybe we can try next weekend.”

“No. I can do it.”

Eddie managed to grab the end of the net when it got close to him on Steve’s next swipe through the water and tugged so Steve was forced to come closer to him.

“Sweetheart, you need to get out.”

“But they’ll be upset.”

“They’ll understand.”

“I can’t-“

“You can. It isn’t letting them down.”

“It is.”

Steve was finally close enough for Eddie to cup his face between his hands. He felt how cold his cheeks were and they weren’t even wet, he couldn’t imagine how the lower half of his body and hands must’ve felt.

“I’ll call them tomorrow and reschedule. You’re gonna get sick and end up having to cancel anyways if you stay in this water.”

“But they won’t wanna just come over to hang out.”

Eddie pushed aside the sudden heartbreak at the realization that Steve genuinely believed the kids used him for his pool as if they don’t spend at least one to two nights a week at his house all winter long for movie nights and dinners.

“They come to hang out all the time without the pool. They love you. They don’t care about your stuff.”

“But they were so excited.”

“I think that excitement would go away if you die from hypothermia.”

Steve sighed.

Eddie smiled. He won. Thank God. He really thought he was gonna be pulling a frozen solid Steve from the pool in the next ten minutes.

Eddie took the net from Steve’s hand and got up to hang it on the hook along the side of the fence while Steve got out of the pool.

Neither of them had brought a towel outside, and Steve’s shivering was getting progressively worse every second.

“Alright, strip.”

Steve snorted, but his teeth had started chattering, so Eddie just raised his eyebrow at him.

Steve sighed and removed his bathing suit, leaving it right on the ground as he rushed in the sliding glass door to the warmth of the house.

Eddie hung them on the back of a chair so they could dry and followed Steve inside.

Steve was already going upstairs, so Eddie yelled to him to start a hot bath while he grabbed his trash from outside.

When he got to the bathroom, Steve was already sitting in the almost full tub, head leaned back and eyes closed.

Eddie watched him for a moment.

He was a self-sacrificing idiot who didn’t understand his own worth without his rich-boy things, but Eddie loved him.

He loved him enough to strip down and get into the bath behind him, holding him against his chest to help him warm up more. He loved him enough to wash his hair and body because he was already exhausted from working all day and trying to take care of the pool. He loved him enough to dry him off with the softest towel in the cabinet, and dress him in a pair of sweatpants and Eddie’s hoodie. He loved him enough to call Dustin when he was asleep and tell him that there’d be no pool party this weekend, but they could still come hang out.

As expected, Dustin (and everyone) loved Steve enough to show up regardless of anything else except being able to spend time with Steve.

[shares-a-vest]

He's Gonna Save Me, Call Me 'Baby'

wc: 1.1k | Rated: T for alcohol consumption (not excessive) | cw: post-breakup, angst with a hopeful ending

Tags: Future Fic (mid-90s), Post Stancy Breakup, Steve Harrington Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Platonic Stobin, Jeff (Stranger Things), Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin, Implied Future Steddie (only bc the end is a little vague)

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Hozier Project. I chose the song, 'Jackie and Wilson'. Thank you soooo much to @subbaculture for setting up this event and making the banner!

(Read on ao3)

“Look alive, Dingus.”

Robin turns around to Steve and pats him square in the chest. He perks up, even though his best friend turns straight back to the entryway of The Hideout to wave at Jeff. He thinks it would be easier if Robin’s head were on a literal swivel with the way she has been whipping back and forth for the past hour.

Steve grumbles into his beer, pushing through the burn in his throat that still lingers years later as he laments the lack of Eddie following behind his bandmate.

He knows they had arrived too early for Corroded Coffin’s show, but Robin’s summer break from teaching came just in time – sue him for needing to spend every possible moment with his best friend.

Though he’d decided as soon as Robin announced her return to Hawkins that he wouldn’t mention the flowers he ripped up in haste in the back garden last week.

He’d done so straight after arriving home from the real estate agent, head hung in shame as he fully accepted yet another hard thunk on the head courtesy of Nancy Wheeler.

Well, it wasn’t so much a thunk this time as it was what Steve might consider, ‘divine intervention’.

He was in the backyard, tending to his small and still very much intact flower garden when a piece of guttering fell clean from the house, smashing through the window of the spare bedroom Nancy was using as her office – a room they’d falsely promised each other would be used for an entirely different reason.

But, much like his childhood home (which endured a mighty crack right through that cursed goddamn pool during Spring Break of ‘86), Steve found himself existing in a not-so-perfect house. One that grew increasingly cold as years of Upside Down dust and fog and smoke cooled Hawkins’s atmosphere.

A house that, with a broken and rusted gutter pipe, decided to remind them that shouldn’t – couldn’t – be playing house.

That’s all it really was: a pretend white picket fence dream that isn’t what Steve had meant by his vision of vacationing with a brood of Harringtons, Nancy by his side.

A dream that Nancy never wanted and got dragged into until her office window smashed in.

A dream that Steve thought was dead and buried the day Nancy rightfully picked through shards of glass for her things and left.

Buried until Eddie called him, saying that he had been talking to Robin (because of course, they kept tabs on him). He said the band would be back in town and that Steve and Robin should meet them.

And so, with a few beers warming his belly, burning his throat and sending a prickling sensation up his scar-covered sides, Steve found that nagging hope bubble up again.

He shakes his head, scoffing at his hopeless self as the sound of rhythm and blues music over the bar’s jukebox almost drowns out Jeff’s and Robin’s chattering.

Maybe he should be talking himself out of it. Finally acknowledging that years-old fleeting something between him and Eddie.

But he wants it.

And Lord knows he acts on a mere fleeting feeling.

Maybe history won’t repeat itself this time. Maybe the rusted gutter was one last divine thunk.

Maybe it won’t just be a first date. Or meaningless sex. Or bullshit.

He should have known that love with Nancy – a love long sucked down his old pool drain along with Barb Holland’s life – couldn’t prosper in the aftermath of an almost apocalypse.

They thought they were supposed to try, is the thing.

Staying in Hawkins. Keeping things at bay. Watching. Perhaps waiting for it all to come back.

But then it didn’t.

It all just lingered.

And they were left to pick up the pieces.

Right mistakes.

Move on.

They just didn’t need to do it together.

Steve pivots on his barstool, leaning an elbow on the bar top to get a better (hopefully seemingly more casual) view of the entryway.

He has seen Eddie over the years. Every Christmas at the Hendersons, sporadic visits home, a phone call here and there. The band hadn’t exactly made it big – at all, really. But they made enough to move around. Tour. Always returning to The Hideout for a one-off Tuesday Night gig as if nothing changed.

Steve looks around, thinking there might be three more drunks than the last show –

And there he is.

Eddie enters the bar with Gareth and George in tow and Steve swears a summer breeze flows in with him.

He looks good. Leather-clad as always. Pants impossibly tight. Jacket chains jangling. His hair still a river of wild curls.

But Steve sinks back on his seat as the trio makes a beeline for the stage, Eddie’s bright eyes turning into a dark frown as he orders the boys about, barely carrying a thing himself.

He probably had some theatrical excuse about his outfit, punctuated by manic hand gestures and a pout or two.

Steve watches as they dump their equipment by the one-step platform, each maneuver creating cacophonous thuds that reverberate through the bar. Jeff grimaces at the sight before shooting an apologetic glance at the manager and barkeep. The boys always did saddle him with sweet-talking the staff.

“Someone’s eager,” Robin teases, catching Steve’s smirk.

Jeff quirks a brow and stifles a smile.

“Shut up,” Steve chuckles into his glass before he downs the last of his beer.

“Eddie is really excited to see you, man,” Jeff nods, offering a nonchalant shrug just as Eddie begins making his way towards them.

Steve’s heart quickens.

There’s that something.

A something that is reflected in the glint in Eddie’s eyes as he smiles wide and waves.

Steve wiggles his fingers in greeting, shaking his head at himself almost instantly causing a lock of his hair to flop out of place.

George not-at-all subtly drags Gareth in Jeff’s direction.

“Over here, Gare,” Robin commands loudly through gritted teeth.

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie says, his voice low as he steps forward to stand just close enough that yeah, Steve decides to roll with that hope again.

He reaches up to comb a hand through his hair but Eddie gets there first.

“Sucks about Wheeler, babydoll,” Eddie continues, allowing his fingers to scrape his scalp, carefully looking him over as he does so.

Eddie always is too much.

Everything.

A lot. All at once.

Seeing him.

Steve hums and Eddie soon stops, an embarrassed set of dimples dotting his cheeks as he likely thinks better of it given their current location.

“It was... all a mistake,” Steve admits, taking Eddie’s retreating hand.

He intertwines ring-adorned fingers with his own, refusing to let go of the hope tethering them, ready to start again.

[drowning-in-cacophony]

repetitive

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial Prompt 289: Blinding Gaze

[Summary: faced with a bright gaze, a detective deals with an aggravatingly repetitive encounter]

They flip the shades down over their eyes, but it still doesn’t really do anything. Penetrating rays damn nuisances to contend with. They gnash a curse underneath their teeth, coarse as sand against the sides of their tongue, and brace themselves for the headache that’s sure to come after this encounter. The light, so abrasive. The conversation, always mind-numbing.

Still. Their boots crush the shattered shards of glass to the dust they once began as, marching themselves across the scene. Whispers collected at the breeze, onlookers bulging at the fluorescent orange gates, trying to test how far a peer can be gotten. The rules state bodies have to stay behind the marked lines, sure, but if the fence tips slightly towards the scene, surely that’s still technically obeying that. It grates on them, the flagrant disrespect for the rules; the rest of the officers will soon corral that behaviour in. An irritating repletion, yet bliss compared to their job.

It's a piece of sliced metal they slam their rubber sole against. Some chunk of a street sign, torn and cast aside with the same disregard a paper plate might be given. Stepping on it mostly because it happens to be in the place they want to stand; a little bit for the pointed image it gives. As always, they can’t help but squint their eyes in pre-preparation, before she’s even flicked those eyes direct. The worst part of this damn disco ball, and the sparks dance even through the tinted glass, determined to give a fireworks show even to the unwilling. They press their tongue against the back of their teeth, a harsh click.

She, naturally, smiles back.

“Good Morning, Detective,” she says, all pleasant, all coffee shop casual, as if she’s not standing in a debris field of her own making. As if it’s not going to take all week to get this cleaned up, and they’ve not even started considering how to get the pole the street sign under their foot might have resided on, as it’s currently stuck horizontally out of the building to their left. As if she’s not already causing a painful throb at their temple.

They resist the urge to claw at it and instead concentrate on not catching the glare of her gaze direct.

“It’s not a good morning for the maintenance crew who’ll have to come clean up after you.” All disapproval and hell, a bit of annoyance, pooled into their voice. It’s a conversation they’ve had again and again. It’s a conversation that never goes anywhere. They could do this in their damn sleep. At least then, they’d get something more out of it.

She keeps smiling, which only adds a fresh glimmer to the blinding light of her eyes. “Well, I did have to stop the criminal, Detective.”

They’d prefer it if it was more of an argument. None of this innocuous pleasurably pleased tone. Something with bite, something to make them shove past the headache for a pain more compelling. Something that’d make this all a bit more exciting. They could look up new comebacks, new insults, wordplay. They could carry around a dictionary. Instead they could record their voice and play the tape, and it’d work just as well for the predictability of this discipline.

“You remember the rules.”

She tilts her head, and like the sun suddenly blazing through a crack in tree branches, the solar flares reach out to scorch the convex protection over their eyes. Rocket ship blast-glass, they might as well be, bearing down against something burning hotter than the fuel it’d taken to propel the ship up. They grind their jaw down, a holdout against the onslaught. Their foot presses down sharper, the metal letting out a pitiful whine. If they’d been walking over and caught this, they might have very well been felled by friendly fire, what with all the glass around ready to catch and glitter.

“I thought stopping crime was the imperative. Wasn’t that what our mayor was saying in his latest address?”

A breath, sharp in their lungs. The fucking mayor.

“The imperative is not creating problems,” they correct, as sharp as that breath. “You might have apprehended the criminal, but the problems you’ve created are just as bad. You understand me?”

The everlasting glow of her light doesn’t falter as her eyes refuse to crop to a blink. A stare, or a lapse, or maybe she’s just trying to see if she actually bloody understands, because the way they see it, it’s never understood because it just keeps on happening. They get out of bed. Get another notice. Have another conversation. Get a numbed head from the monotony, a blasted headache from the glare or whatever else the damn hordes might have to offer. Rinse and repeat.

They sigh.

“I understand what you’re saying, Detective,” she says, and neatly dodges explaining whether she actually understands what the words mean in regard to her behaviour. As per usual.

They resist it no longer: a hand goes to their temples, fingers scrunching against the skin as rough as they can. Somewhere behind them, there’s a telltale sound of metal scraping against the unbroken concrete, a fence about to tip over from some onlookers too enthusiastic leaning. Somewhere behind her, the last chunk of a damaged window frame weakly falls to the floor. All the while, they get the privilege of sun spots clouding across their eyes, damn the shades.

Just another identically tiresome day in this city.

[bookwormscififan]

Hybrids and Humans, Chapter 7

Broken Rights

Previous Chapter

Read on AO3!

A/N: Take some angst.

Warnings: There is a short scene that handles some electroshock, so just a warning.

--

“Wait, I don’t understand.” The soldiers were silent as Jackie protested, grips tight on his arms as they practically dragged him down the stairs. “Please, at least let me call Phantom! It’s his house, he needs to know what’s going on!”

They lifted him over the table with no regard for the items on it, and Jackie flinched as his feet knocked a few ornaments onto the ground, hearing them smash against the floor. Dragging him through the shards, his feet trailed blood along the once-spotless hardwood, and Jackie fell limp in the soldiers’ arms as defeat swept over him.

--

“Tell me why you took me from my home,” Jackie’s voice was flat, head bowed as he sat in front of the sharply dressed man across the table. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I never hurt anyone, I was living my life.”

“Hybrids aren’t allowed in the town.” Jackie’s head snapped up at the curt response, anger flaring up in his chest as his eyes blazed. “You have your rights, but you can’t live amongst the society.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t speak to you if you use that language—”

“I wasn’t hurting anybody! I was simply living in a house – owned and paid by a human – and keeping out of danger! You took me from my fucking house and put me in here, and you’re trying to tell me I broke some—”

The man watched as Jackie collapsed onto the floor as a result of the soldier behind him injecting him with a syringe. With a short nod, Jackie was carried from the room and taken back to his cell, cuffed and chained to a wall to keep him from lashing out again.

--

The walls shook with the echoes of screams, scientists and soldiers alike covering their ears against the pained cries of the raccoon hybrid in the cell.

“Please! Please, stop! Why are you doing this?!” Inside the cell, Jackie screamed as shock after shock of electricity hit him, hair and fur unkempt as tears stained his cheeks. “Let me go! I’ll never come to the town again! I swear! Please!”

Behind two-way glass, the sharply dressed man crossed his arms, watching Jackie writhe before lifting his hand, motioning for the shocks to stop. As Jackie panted and shook, the man turned and walked away, waving his hand to return Jackie to his cell.

--

His eyes flashed as he watched people move past his cell, waiting until the lights turned off before scurrying to the door, picking at the lock with the small nail he’d snatched.

He held his breath as the lock clicked, waiting for signs someone heard him before slipping out of the cell, moving down the halls like a shadow. His hands were bruised from his time there, and his legs were stiff, but he made it to a fire exit and out the door in the blink of an eye.

The cool night air was refreshing on his face, and he paused for a moment to take several breaths, revelling in his momentary freedom. Catching himself, he hurried out of the facility, through a gap in the electrified fence, and into the thick woods beyond.

Collapsing against twigs and dead leaves, Jackie swallowed back gulps of air before looking around him, not recognising his surroundings. How far away was he? How long would it take to get back to Phantom? Would Phantom even remember him?

Slowly he managed to stand, moving to a bush and taking the berries from it. His ears swivelled at the sound of running water, and he moved toward it hesitantly. There was a creek, small with clear water, which Jackie used to clean himself and drink from before following it downstream in the hopes of finding the town.

--

Instead he found the creek ended at a small pool, in a meadowed clearing where the sun shone warmly on his skin. Falling to his knees in the soft grass, Jackie looked around with wide eyes trying to get his bearings.

He moved to the edge of the pool, cupping his hands to drink the water before looking at his reflection in the surface. His patches had grown in the time he was away, unruly and greasy hair falling into his eyes. The dye had long since faded, streaking the dark brown locks with a sickly green colour.

He held back a sob, hand going to his mouth as he gagged instead, turning to the side to empty his stomach, losing all strength to keep himself upright. His lungs burned as he breathed heavily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before going back to the water and pausing when he saw another face in the surface.

“Are you alright?” The stranger’s voice was soft, concerned as they crouched beside him. “You look like death.” Another hybrid, this one with fox ears and tail, gently placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. Jackie cleared his throat before shaking his head slowly, lip trembling as his tears fell again. “Here, let me help you. I live not far from here, and I’ve got hot water for a bath and a change of clothes.”

“T-Thanks,” Jackie managed, letting the man help him to stand. “My name’s Jackie, by the way.” The fox nodded, leading Jackie out of the clearing with a kind face.

“I’m Mad.”

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

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons @rattyboyisemo

[bucketkicked]

𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔.

bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering & / or upsetting content ahead!

𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅. weighted blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil & sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes & tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust & sand speaking to you.

𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with that you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings & legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.

𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness & seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight. pouring dark. unscrewing light bulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.

𝒊𝒗. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. a kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.

𝒗. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒉. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance & appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

𝒗𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flatlining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul & spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the plead of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know & being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

𝒗𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colours. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t watch away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyeurism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.

𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide & seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks & growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark & running after it.

𝒊𝒙. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realize they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

𝒙. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knife block on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

𝒙𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒍. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscrew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes & tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

𝒙𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs & pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter & sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

𝒙𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒕. open spaces. carnival rides going up & down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles & miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky & feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

𝒙𝒊𝒗. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒃. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak-willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realizing it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unreliability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs & fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

𝒙𝒗. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

[cottoncandy-cult]

You Walk In On Him (ZFBFS)

(Y/n) smiled happily as she came into her home one summer day after a shopping trip, summer had officially started a few days before hand, and she wanted to get a new bathing suit. The one she selected was a black bikini with (F/c) hearts all over it, the top tied up front and the bottoms had little knots stitched onto the sides that were just for show. They had recently got the pool area redone which had her excited for the first dip, the only thing she had been more excited about was showing her bikini to her boyfriend.

Her (E/c) eyes traced the living room; she became vaguely aware that she couldn't hear a sound in the house. She peaked through the doorway between the living room and kitchen, out behind the sliding glass doors she could see the fenced in pool and the woods that surrounded them. But she couldn't see him by the pool or in the backyard, so she decided to see if he was napping within his room. She sat her bag on the couch beside her purse, it having a few other items in it she'd have to put away. She took her bathing suit out and made her way up the stairs, she called out Zack's name on her way up the steps but still heard nothing back.

Zack had been in the shower and unable to hear her call, though he had just finished cleaning up and so he slowly turned off the warm water and getting out. The house having 2 master bedrooms meant he didn't need to worry about bringing his clothes with him, and so after drying himself he exited the pearly bathroom into his bedroom. His window was open and it being a rather nice day Zack took his time and enjoyed the breeze that came through, these moments of peace were something he rarely got to enjoy in depth.

When he heard footsteps quickly approaching the room he turned to the door, freezing in place when the door flew open to reveal his girlfriend. She seemed just as startled as he had been, the two stared each other in the eyes. At least until her eyes drifted down, lips parting slightly. At first, he thought she was staring at his scars, until he realized how low her (E/c) eyes had gone. He could feel heat flooding his face, it took him a moment to scream out. "DAMNIT BITCH QUIT STARING AND GET OUT!" He had practically tossed her out the door, once the wooden barrier was closed and locked, he could hear dying of laughter on the other side. Part of him wanted to laugh as well, but at the same time he was still rather embarrassed at the incident. "She's such a bitch..."

[cerebricarchives]

Fly It High

*After failing to enter the front door of the household of Caleb Ramos, where a TOJ Code Orange threat is taken place, Green Thunder tries the backdoor by going over the stone molded fence to the pool, to which he falls flat on his ass.*

⚡: AH DAMN! Augh...walk it off, boy. Walk it....huh.

*Green Thunder notices the pool needed some cleaning work, as weird pale creatures are surfaced on the pool, looking like veiny worms with dozens of legs, all of them not moving. GT gets up to investigate the pile of odd bodies, even getting a pool net and foolishly pokes at them.*

⚡: Well whatever the hell happened...damn seemed like an agent already got here. The hell are these th-

*In a smashing instance, a window from the second story breaks through with a worm creature plopped on the floor. In a moment it scurries it's little legs around, finding it's footing as Green Thunder is taking it lightly*

⚡: EUGH what the FUCK! The HELL is that goddamn thing!? No no no, I'm out, I'm-

*In a second instance, a man donning a bright shining blue armor jumps out of the window and lands right on his feet next to the crawling creature. Green Thunder backs up as the man swings a battle axe glowing with green and blue neon lights onto the floor, slicing the creature in half, all the while he gutturally screams in a thick Gaelic accent. As he kicks the pieces off to the pool, he looks up and notices the man in the green suit piece of tech, scared shitless.*

🪓: This doesn't concern you, false knight! Go back to your little cave.

⚡: Whoa okay. Time out, time out. =doing the time out gesture= Hold up, what the hell, what's going on? What happened here?

🪓: Star Spawns happened.

⚡: What?

🪓: =points battle axe to the pile of bodies soaking in the chloride dyed pool= Least I remind you of the Ancient's ways, corrupted by the master, where meteor showers or aurora borealis happen, the stars fall upon the Earth. You're lucky enough I showed up, otherwise your Trinity of Justice would have to keep them alive before they turn into worse beings.

⚡: =squats down eyeing the monsters= They look like the XenoQueen got it on with the Eraserhead baby...well you know when it was grown up and uh...well anyways if it will make you feel better I'm not with the ToJ. I'm on my own here, and I'd have to assume you are too?

🪓: I'm different from you, wandering warrior.

⚡: Right well I bet you heard about a Code Orange Threat here. Caleb Ramos, a professor from Riverstone University. Advanced biology but toyed around with making house flies the literal size of houses some dozen years ago. What made you so special that you happened by the area?

🪓: Fool that you are to misunderstand what's going on. If I may properly introduce myself, I am the combined son of Odin and Zeus. I was chosen by the true Heirs of the Ancients to protect the planet from The Master's plan to corrupt you beings much like he did with the Ancients. Wielding the Axe of All Knowns, Armor of the Southern Isles and power gifted from the True Heirs to undo the Master's plan, I am Thy Neon Viking!

*A breif pause happens as Green Thunder has to collect what this cosplayer has ranted in the past minute*

⚡: So...where's Caleb?

*Thy Neon Viking points his axe once again to the pile of bodies, especially to one where it's belly looks full.*

⚡: =Shakes head= Okay, I don't know what kind of nut job thing you got goin' on pal, but right now we got anomalies in the pool, an MIA civilian and by any moment an actual agent is gonna come by and for our sakes, pin this on the both of us. You and I gotta zip.

🪓: In a moment. =Turns around to the glass sided back door= There maybe some more Star Spawns. I'll hold them off back, you can just go.

⚡: You know I kind of realize something....out there in the drive way there was a station wagon. Looked pretty gritty, with a mismatched door. With a big screen TV at the back. =Looks over Neon Viking's shoulder, peering through the glass door to see a pretty bad scuffle. Tossed chairs, weird black goo on the walls, a nice clean outline where a TV would be hanging on the wall= So what's going on?

🪓: Hey like I said, Viking business. Okay so what, I broke the screen. You know what they say...uh...always recyle!

⚡: Buddy....=takes a big whiff= yeah that's skunk weed al-

*In a flashed moment Neon Viking jabs his fist to Green Thunder's stomach, whereas he holds onto the impact, putting his legs together and falls right by the poolside. Groaning in pain, Neon Viking runs right out to the door, smashes right through the glass door and goes through the spacious fancy household with his battle axe grinding through the floor, more like he's dragging it behind.*

==============================================\\\\\

[ladyoriza]

ocs as TMA entities

tagged by @adelaidedrubman

i. THE BURIED. weighted blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil & sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes & tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust & sand speaking to you.

ii. THE CORRUPTION. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with that you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings & legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.

iii. THE DARK. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness & seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight. pouring dark. unscrewing lightbulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.

iv. THE DESOLATION. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.

v. THE FLESH. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance & appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

vi. THE END. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flat-lining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul & spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the pleas of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know & being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii. THE EYE. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colors. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t look away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyeurism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.

viii. THE HUNT. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide & seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks & growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark & running after it.

ix. THE LONELY. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realize they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

x. THE SLAUGHTER. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knife block on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

xi. THE SPIRAL. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories.distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish color. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes & tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

xii. THE STRANGER. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs & pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colors of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter & sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii. THE VAST. open spaces. carnival rides going up & down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles & miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky & feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

xiv. THE WEB. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak—willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realizing it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unreliability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs & fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

THE EXTINCTION. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

[pmbalustrade]

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[jencsi]

Aftermath

August 2016

Dark purple balloons sway in the gentle breeze, tied down with silver ribbon to patio chairs, the metal fencing that surrounds the yard, random stakes placed throughout the yard. The garden is in full bloom, lavish shrubs, flowering pots, roses pink and red, towering wildflowers, daisies, echinacea, black eyed Susan’s, swaying along with the balloons, freshly cut grass, greenery around every corner, Barbara’s pride and joy. 

A long table sits under a small white canopy tent, purple cloth draped over it, matching the balloons. Here, wrapped gifts, colorful bags, donned with ribbons and bows are set down with care. Large boxes of pizza covered with cheese and dripping in grease occupy another table. At the final table rests a large rectangle layered cake with purple and pink frosting and two number one candles placed delicately on top. “Aunt Julie sit by me, Aunt Julie watch me jump in the pool, look at the new books I got from grandpa, wow sunglasses, just like yours! Cool!" Finn soaks up the party atmosphere with joy, happily catching Katie when she hugs her, turning her just in time to blow out the candles on her cake. Finn didn’t know what triggered it, but there it was, sudden, familiar and terrifying, the dull ache in her head, just above her left eye. She winced once and that motion triggered her nerves to shoot more pain to the same spot. Her stomach lurched in fear and panic, not today, please not today, she begged silently to her wounded body.  She muttered her curse words under her breath for the sake of Katie and her friends as she turned, marching back towards the house where her bag resided in the closet, yanking it by the strap in frustration, she dug around for her saving grace, the painkiller that would put it in its place, hopefully, the negative thought crept into her brain, for she spent half a dozen nights and days taking more than one of this horse tranquilizer type medications, only to be left with the same pain for hours on end. 

She struggled to unscrew the medicine bottle cap, hands shaking with rage and fear of the pain that lay ahead of her unless this magic pill stopped it in a reasonable amount of time to where she could still enjoy the party. 

She stumbled into the kitchen, barefoot on the polished wood floor, shoes lost in the chaos of the party, the hem of her dress swaying as she moved, it was a new dress she picked out specifically for this party, a floral pattern that made her feel clean and fresh like spring and summer should be rather than dark and dingy like the headaches made her feel and forced her to retreat to cool dark spaces alone like some recluse. 

In the kitchen, she ripped a piece of bread off the loaf on the counter, enough to quickly chew and swallow with some difficulty, before shakily reaching for a glass, filling it with water from the tap, popping the pill and chugging the water, the sooner it hit her bloodstream the better right? She tried to convince herself it was going to be fine but the ache persisted and seemed to grow in intensity with each passing second she wasted. 

She felt the bread and water churn unpleasantly in her stomach and she braces her hands on the marble countertop, breathe, just breathe, it’s gonna work, give it a chance. 

But a wave of nausea hits her hard and she stifles the urge to cry. Maybe more water? She was never drinking enough, that’s how she ended up in this situation half the time. But no, her brain taunts her, water can’t fix it, it’s all his fault. And the negative side of her mind is right after all, she wouldn’t be forced to take prescribed painkillers, be forced into constricting MRI’s a few times a year, relearn her entire existence one fumbled step at a time. He took so much from her and with each side effect that her body threw at her as a result of his violence, he continued to ruin days like today and rob her of the life she fought so hard to get back. 

She can feel her heart beating faster, sweat gathering on her forehead and neck as panic over the pain overwhelms her. 

“The girls are having a blast,” Barbara Russell’s voice floats from behind her as she enters the kitchen. “It’s cooling down so DB’s gonna set up a bonfire for them to make s’mores.”

Her words register but Finn feels a haze over her as she nods, trying to to turn around too quickly at the risk of throwing up. 

“Sounds great,” Finn mutters, her voice cracked with emotions, struggling to maintain composure and keep her insides from churning and spilling out onto the floor or counter. 

Barbara senses the sudden change in her mood and behavior and immediately rushes to her side properly. 

“What’s wrong?” She demands to know softly but stern.

“Nothing,” Finn tries to deter her but the ache in her head is pounding, she can’t let go of the counter, a flush overcomes her and she feels her knees buckle. 

But Barbara sees right through the facade, the way she’s tensing up in obvious pain and discomfort. It’s a headache, a bad one, one brought to fruition at the hands of someone else. Now it’s her turn to feel a rush of rage towards the man, the monster she corrects herself, responsible for this. Before she can make a move or think of what to do next, Russell enters the kitchen, laughing about Charlie telling Katie and her friends a ghost story. 

“What’s up?” he asks of the tension in the kitchen, his smile fading when he sees Finn holding on to the counter oddly and Barbara next to her looking worried.

“Headache,” Finn manages to choke out, pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead which is now hot to the touch and aching terribly. The spare bedroom she is forced into is dark, blackout curtains pulled across the windows, deflecting any sunlight from entering. It’s chilly, just like the rest of the house as the air conditioner hums, the gentle rattling of the vents on the wall seems ten times louder in the moment of agony, the light from the small lamp Barbara turns on by the bedside practically blinds her and she squints, the rest of her senses taking a beating as her head throbs. 

The motion of laying down overwhelms her and she doesn’t fight Barbara who turns down the covers to allow her to settle in bed. The sheets are cool and comforting against her body, her head landing softly on the pillow changes the feeling of her pain but doesn’t alleviate it.  She hears whispers above her, but the words are jumbled, and her brain can only process a few at a time "ice, no, heat, peppermint oil, that's too strong, remember last month?" Far from comforting her in the moment, Finn can hear them fussing over her care fading in and out of her laboring subconscious, the familiarity they have with her pain creates a feeling of embarrassment and heat flush to her cheeks.

She turns her head and presses her entire forehead into the cold pillow, begging for relief, a calming of the churning in her stomach, a break from the pain, from the odd flashes of light above her eyes, annoying her already overstimulated mind and body.

“Honey don’t do that,” Barbara scolds her suddenly, patting her back, making her turn back on her side causing her to protest with another soft cry, the shift causing more pain. 

She squeezes her eyes shut tight, creating more tension in her head which she knows is wrong to do but she can’t help the involuntary reaction in the moment. The light from the bedside lamp blinds her even with her eyes closed.

 The sense of something cold on her burning forehead a moment later brings a shock to her system but within seconds, the pain seems to melt away, a few aching throbs at a time. The battle isn’t over that easily she knows, but the intermittent moment of relief gives her a few seconds to collect her breathing and feel, for just a few seconds, normal, if that’s a possibility in her world now, an illusion, a dream. 

Tiny multi-colored stars twinkle in her lines of sight, grouped together in front of the black landscape of her eyelids. The distinct scent of smoke enters her olfactory range, along with a singular girlish shriek piercing her auditory system. She attempts to lift her immobilized arm, wanting to make sure all her limbs are still functioning in her moment of peril. Somehow, her hand makes contact with her face, she’s alive, numb, but still feeling. The cold on her forehead that brought her relief has gone lukewarm. A soft voice far away speaks unintelligibly, then she feels the lukewarm feeling fade, replaced once again by something icy cold. Lather, rinse, repeat.

An hour, or four, she didn’t know and wouldn’t know unless she opened her eyes, but that task seemed monumental. What started out as an explosive pounding in her skull has now lessened. The sensation of her hair being brushed back makes her sigh, a light tickling on the back of her neck makes her shiver under the covers.

The feel of someone or something warm beside her startles her out of her half-conscious, half-asleep state. More whispers and the sensation of warmth starts to move away from her. "Let her stay," Finn says weakly, all her strength zapped with just the simple act of checking to see that Katie had indeed abandoned her own birthday party in search of Finn, finding her and not leaving her side. Finn had missed S’mores and ghost stories and Uncle Charlie dancing silly. Just like she missed the picnic last month to Gig Harbor, the zoo, the fifth-grade graduation in May for her school, the amusement park, planting the garden with her mom and grandma, each time the same, Aunt Julie has a headache. Aunt Julie doesn't feel well. She'll be better soon, don't worry.

What a strange concept adults tried to emulate, don't worry. Worry was always there, Katie saw it in her grandparents faces and voices, her mother's looks and whispered conversations, her aunt Julie promising her everything would be okay more times than she could count.

"I'm not stupid!" Katie had yelled when she questioned Finn's whereabouts hours ago, ignoring the pleas of her family and seeking out her favorite person, the one she trusted the most, who listened to her and didn't dismiss her concerns as just childish or tell her she was too young to understand. She understood plenty. She understood pain, heartbreak, anger, watching Finn be hurt enough times, watching her grandpa fall apart, watching her mother and grandmother hover worriedly over everyone, she hated secrets and lies, being told its okay when it's not. Enough was enough, she decided, I'm grown up, if they won't tell me, I'll find out on my own! And with that headstrong guidance, she finds the nerve to ignore her mother and grandparents and seek Finn out, finding her locked away, crippled by another headache, something she dealt with too much lately. It makes sense, they all agree, watching Katie snuggle closer to Finn, they spend so much time together, they adore each other, she respects the hell out of her, she wants to be just like her, she had declared multiple times in her life thus far. A tall and dangerous order for an eleven-year-old, following in the footsteps of one Julie Finlay, but really, no one could blame her.

[vullcanica]

AESTHETICS FOR ENTITIES PART I.

bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses.

Nikodemus Desalvar

i.  the buried.   weighed blankets.  drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil and sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

ii.  the corruption. insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief. parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

iii.  the dark.   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter. light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants. a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable. winter months in the north.  an empty church.

iv.  the desolation.   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air. a child born in fire.  death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives.  burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one. disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

v.  the flesh.   body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

vi.  the end.   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial. the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii.  the eye.   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries. eyes of different colors.  feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records. a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems.  voyeurism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

Tagged by: @vilestblood <3