#vinyl click flooring

[floorings101]

Modern Architectural Trends: The Rise of Vinyl Ramp Profiles

In the ever-evolving landscape of modern architecture, the pursuit of inclusive design and accessibility has become an integral aspect of creating spaces that cater to diverse needs. Among the innovative solutions contributing to this ethos, vinyl ramp profiles emerge as versatile and aesthetically pleasing components, seamlessly blending functionality with design. This article embarks on a journey into the realm of vinyl ramp profiles, exploring their significance in modern architecture, their adaptability in design, and their transformative role in fostering accessible environments.

Vinyl ramp profiles represent more than just a means of facilitating mobility; they embody a commitment to breaking down barriers and ensuring that spaces are welcoming to everyone. As we delve into their applications in modern architecture, we will uncover the versatility of these profiles in both design and function, examining how they harmonize with the principles of inclusive architecture.

From residential spaces that prioritize ease of movement to commercial environments striving to comply with accessibility standards, vinyl ramp profiles play a pivotal role in shaping the accessibility narrative. In this exploration, we will unravel the various design possibilities these profiles offer, providing architects, designers, and homeowners alike with insights into how vinyl ramp profiles can be seamlessly integrated into modern architectural styles.

As we navigate through the intersections of form and function, this article aims to showcase the transformative potential of vinyl ramp profiles in modern architecture. These unassuming components not only bridge physical gaps but also bridge the gap between practicality and aesthetics, demonstrating that accessibility in design can be both purposeful and visually appealing. Join us on this journey into the world of vinyl ramp profiles, where inclusivity meets innovation, and spaces are crafted to be truly accessible for all.

Versatility in Design and Function

In the dynamic realm of modern architecture, the integration of accessibility features has evolved beyond mere functionality to encompass a seamless fusion of design and purpose. Vinyl ramp profiles stand out as exemplars of this paradigm shift, offering unparalleled versatility in both aesthetic adaptability and functional efficiency.

Inclusive Design Principles

Adapting Spaces for Accessibility:

Vinyl ramp profiles serve as instrumental elements in the implementation of inclusive design principles. They provide a means to seamlessly integrate accessibility features into the architectural fabric, ensuring that spaces are welcoming and navigable for individuals with varying mobility needs.

The adaptability of vinyl ramp profiles allows architects to envision spaces where accessibility is not an afterthought but an integral part of the design process.

Seamless Transitions with Vinyl Ramp Profiles:

The versatility of vinyl ramp profiles lies in their ability to create smooth transitions between different elevations without compromising on design aesthetics. These profiles can be tailored to match the existing flooring, ensuring a cohesive and visually pleasing integration.

By facilitating seamless transitions, these profiles contribute to a design ethos that embraces diversity and prioritizes the creation of spaces where everyone can navigate with ease.

Aesthetics and Material Options

Exploring Design Possibilities:

Vinyl ramp profiles come in a myriad of designs, allowing architects and designers to explore a spectrum of possibilities. From sleek and minimalist to textured and patterned profiles, these elements can be customized to align with the overall design language of a space.

This exploration of design possibilities goes beyond mere accessibility solutions; it transforms these profiles into design elements that contribute to the overall visual identity of a space.

Vinyl Ramp Profiles in Harmony with Modern Architectural Styles:

Modern architecture often embraces clean lines, open spaces, and a minimalist aesthetic. Vinyl ramp profiles, with their contemporary designs and material options, seamlessly align with these architectural styles, becoming integral components that enhance rather than detract from the overall design vision.

The ability of vinyl ramp profiles to complement modern architectural styles further emphasizes their role in creating environments that are both accessible and visually cohesive.

In the synthesis of design and function, vinyl ramp profiles emerge as transformative elements that go beyond their utilitarian purpose. They embody the essence of inclusive design, where accessibility is seamlessly woven into the fabric of architecture, ensuring that spaces are not only accessible but also visually captivating. As architects and designers continue to explore the potential of vinyl ramp profiles, the boundaries of inclusive and aesthetically pleasing architecture are continually pushed, fostering environments that embrace diversity in both form and function.

Application in Residential and Commercial Spaces

Vinyl ramp profiles, with their versatile design and functional adaptability, find compelling applications in both residential and commercial settings. Their ability to seamlessly integrate into various architectural styles while enhancing accessibility makes them invaluable components for crafting inclusive environments in diverse spaces.

Residential Accessibility

Integrating Vinyl Ramp Profiles for Home Accessibility:

In residential architecture, the need for accessibility often arises without sacrificing the aesthetic appeal of the living space. Vinyl ramp profiles offer a discreet yet effective solution, allowing homeowners to create barrier-free transitions between different areas of the home.

Whether incorporated into entryways, thresholds, or indoor spaces, these profiles become discreet aids that enhance accessibility without compromising the overall design integrity of a residence.

Design Considerations for Residential Spaces:

The adaptability of vinyl ramp profiles extends to various design considerations within homes. From ensuring wheelchair access to different rooms to creating smooth transitions in bathrooms and kitchens, these profiles cater to the diverse needs of residents.

Homeowners and designers can select profiles that complement existing flooring materials, ensuring a cohesive design that prioritizes both aesthetics and accessibility.

Commercial Accessibility

Enhancing Public Spaces with Vinyl Ramp Profiles:

In commercial architecture, where public accessibility is not only a necessity but often a legal requirement, vinyl ramp profiles play a pivotal role in creating universally accessible spaces. Entrances, corridors, and common areas benefit from the seamless integration of these profiles, ensuring equal access for all.

The discreet nature of vinyl ramp profiles allows businesses to prioritize accessibility without compromising the overall ambiance of their establishments.

Compliance with Accessibility Standards in Commercial Design:

Vinyl ramp profiles contribute to compliance with accessibility standards such as the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). By providing a gradual incline for wheelchair users and individuals with mobility aids, these profiles ensure that commercial spaces are welcoming and inclusive.

Their use in commercial architecture signifies a commitment to social responsibility, creating environments that cater to the diverse needs of patrons and visitors.

In both residential and commercial applications, vinyl ramp profiles transcend their functional role to become integral components of architectural design. As architects, designers, and homeowners embrace the principles of inclusivity, the incorporation of these profiles ensures that accessibility becomes a seamless and harmonious aspect of the built environment. From private residences to bustling commercial establishments, vinyl ramp profiles exemplify the transformative potential of design solutions that prioritize both form and function.

Conclusion

In the tapestry of modern architecture, where inclusivity is a guiding principle and design innovation knows no bounds, vinyl ramp profiles stand as silent champions of accessible spaces. As we conclude our exploration into the transformative role of these profiles in contemporary architecture, it becomes evident that they are more than functional necessities – they are integral components that bridge the gap between universal accessibility and striking design.

Vinyl ramp profiles exemplify the essence of versatility, seamlessly adapting to both residential and commercial settings. In homes, they discreetly enhance accessibility, providing smooth transitions without compromising the aesthetics of the living space. In commercial environments, these profiles become symbols of a commitment to inclusivity, ensuring that everyone, regardless of mobility, can navigate public spaces with dignity.

The beauty of vinyl ramp profiles lies not only in their ability to facilitate accessibility but also in their capacity to harmonize with modern architectural styles. From minimalist designs that complement clean lines to textured profiles that add visual interest, these elements showcase how inclusive design can coexist seamlessly with the overall aesthetic vision of a space.

As architects, designers, and homeowners continue to push the boundaries of what is possible in modern architecture, vinyl ramp profiles remain at the forefront of this evolution. Their discreet yet impactful presence signifies a shift towards environments that prioritize the needs of all individuals, creating spaces that are not just visually captivating but universally accessible.

In the journey towards a more inclusive built environment, vinyl ramp profiles serve as a reminder that thoughtful design solutions can transcend their practical roles to become transformative elements. By weaving accessibility into the very fabric of modern architecture, these profiles contribute to a world where spaces are not defined by limitations but enriched by the diversity of those who inhabit them. May the integration of vinyl ramp profiles continue to shape the narrative of modern architecture, creating environments where everyone is not only welcomed but empowered to navigate and thrive.

[medinaflooringcontractors]

Budget-Friendly Tile Installation: Tips for Saving on Costs

Before diving into any purchases, thorough planning is crucial. It's beneficial to research the costs associated with different types of tiles, as they can vary widely in price. Consider options like SPC vinyl click flooring, which offers durability and an attractive appearance at a fraction of the cost of traditional materials. By comparing prices across various suppliers, you can snag the best deals available.

For more information visit us:

https://ext-6485574.livejournal.com/412.html

[digital-1-marketing]

Invest in SPC Vinyl Click Flooring: Long-Lasting Solution

SPC Vinyl Click Flooring is a revolutionary product, providing an excellent alternative to traditional flooring types. Combining the strength of stone and the resilience of plastic composite, it offers unbeatable durability and an aesthetic appeal that’s hard to surpass. This innovative floor covering material is crafted with a dense core that resists impact, wear, and water damage, thereby offering an extended lifespan compared to other flooring options.

[faeriekit]

#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments

*

The next day, the body was back.

The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.

That went into Danny's notes.

After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.

"...Okay," said Danny.

The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.

The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.

At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.

"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"

It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.

This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.

Great.

Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.

On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.

"Is he here?"

Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"

"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"

Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.

"I visited your workplace previously."

Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"

"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"

Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."

The call ended with a click.

His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.

On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.

"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.

The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.

On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.

Fuck.

[floorfolio]

INSTANTLY change or install floors with FloorFolio’s Rigid Hybrid LVT. Our solution provides a quiet, ultra-light & water-resistant floating floor with a highly stable core that uses a click installation system. We offer different gauges, sizes and specs, depending on your needs. Details for this install: Color #748-677-A-SP 7″ x 48″ Plank Size 4mm Rigid Core + 1mm IXPE Backing 12 mil Wear Layer Scratch-Resistant Surface Visit our website to order FREE samples: floorfolio.com #floorfolio #luxury #vinyl #wood #flooring #lvt #rigidhybrid #click #installation #instantresults #instantflooring #design #inspiration #beinspired #commercial #bedifferent #bebold #modern #unique #instalove #instahit https://www.instagram.com/p/CnUckv3gwY7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[villohome-flooring]

Click Lock Vinyl Flooring is a type of Floating Floor and it is comprised of rigid core. Click Lock Vinyl Flooring comes in both tiles and planks forms and to install this flooring, simply snap planks or tiles into place using the click-locking system integrated into the flooring product. The Rigid Core Click Lock Vinyl Flooring comes in both SPC (Stone Plastic Composite) and WPC (Wood Plastic Composite) forms. Explore our wide range of Luxury Vinyl Flooring here coupled with the Vinyl Flooring Accessories.

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

[floorings101]

[ghouljams]

Hi! I love your android!ghost au! I was rereading it and I got the idea of ghost desperately wanting to eat the reader out but androids can’t eat…

Oh my love don't let that stop you from riding his face...

I see Android Ghost's head as either being 1 of 2 things,

This Mask from Machine56 or my personal preference/ favorite, something like this:

that he displays his skull mask on, plus messages if needed(also if anyone knows the artist for that picture please let me know I'm having a hell of a time finding them to credit)

Anyway, you can always ride his face plate, there's not much friction but it's better than nothing. It's a good show for him too. Laying back and having you tentatively settle on the smooth screen of his face, the little skull decal and glowing eyes staring up at you. You don't want to break anything, it's not like his head is made for this, but Ghost grabs your hips and forces you to set your weight on him. He rubs your pussy back and forth over the screen, murmurs that the glass is bulletproof which means it's definitely pussy-proof, and he won't hear a word of complaint.

It's perfect for him. He gets a front row view of your pussy as it slides over his faceplate, the slick smearing over the plasti-glass, the drag of your folds, your clit, fuck look at you. His mouth waters. There's not an inch of you that doesn't deserve his attention, his affection. He moves your hips back and forth, watches your face pinch in pleasure, your lips shut tight to keep from making a peep. God is there any prettier sight?

You're dirtying his screen. It's such a strange feeling, just that little bit of friction that drives you mad as your cunt slides against his face. Your clit bumps against the slightly raised edge of the decal and it's such a change that your hips jerk. That seems to be encouragement enough to have him shifting you up, your pussy directly over his cameras as you rub yourself against the bump of vinyl. You can ignore the soft click of his cameras saving the image to memory, but you can't ignore the way he talks to you. The low wrecked tone that vibrates through his synthetic cords.

"Look'it you," He rumbles, "could drown with how wet you are, pretty pussy giving my screen a shine. Knew you liked bots, but never thought you'd go this far. What's the captain gonna think of you damaging military property like this?"

"Can clean it," You mumble. His fingers tighten on your hips and he tells you desperately:

"Don't."

The idea that he might walk around all day with your slick staining his face makes you warmer than it ought to. Makes you press your hands to the floor above his head and roll your hips more purposefully. Damaging military property... If you're the one doing all his repairs you don't think that charge will stick.

[digital-1-marketing]

Invest in SPC Vinyl Click Flooring: Long-Lasting Solution

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[lxdymoon0357]

I just.. want romantic Yandere Callisto and Derrick to fight for me 👉👈

(wow...two gorgeous men fighting for a gorgeous person...||| Callisto doesn't like Penelope also I didn't get anything to write for this, apologies...)

Callisto X Reader X Derrick:

the spread of blood...

Maybe this wasn’t a good what you hoped to happen on such a day.…A sounds of people’s screams filled your ear as you were locked in a room, you slid down the door finally tired of banging hoping you would be saved from them…You’re face having streaks of wet tears and nose and eyes puffy and red and burning…Just as you were about to give up the sound of wooden breaking off was heard as the door creaked open just a bit. Now with the door open, you were able to hear the blood curdling screams of terror, pain and fear, you opened the door and saw multiple guards dead, you immediately got out and run deeper into the hallways which seemed to continue forever before they lead to multiple rows, maybe one proving you could save yourself..

But sadly, the hallways of pretty designs, which you loved so much since childhood as you were born here which seemed demented now, continued forever and ever and reaching into deeper parts of the palace which was proving to show that you couldn’t escape them…

Just as you stopped you heard the sounds of their feet clicking across the marble floors, the silence made the sounds of your breath loud as you took off deeper into the manor, running at the top of your speed not caring about anything else, those monsters, they took your family and killed them in the main room while keeping you locked up, the reason being their delusional heads thought your family was keeping you away from them…Which was true, but it’s because they often drove people away from you and you felt uncomfortable around them…They did it to protect you and they along with nearly everyone else in the manor you cared about were killed in cold blood by their hands…

You ran and ran, your breathe getting heavier as you heard Derrick and Callisto run behind you as well…Just as soon you saw a window into your view, you opened it as quickly as possible before looking down and seeing a bit of height, you figured you’d survive and if not, you’d reunite with your family, right? Just as you’re about to jump out, you were pulled back harshly by your waist and thrown to the ground, in the process you hit your head as black smoke fills your vision….in the darkness you see two masculine figures, one of them slaps the other on the head harshly before the other lunges at the first and they break apart angrily, before you feel their hand caressing you, their touch felt like millions of insects crawling and biting your skin, but soon you couldn’t see anything  as your vision was filled completely by darkness….

The soft caressing and touch felt weirdly sharp to you, as you tried to wake up, your back and neck sore…your eyes shutting tightly and refusing to open up and you feeling chills down your spine telling you to not get up ever again…You tried following those words and feelings, but you couldn’t as your eyes opened up to a vinyl void, clearing up as you squinted to get used to the bright lights of the room, it smelt of moss and water tanks…

You tried rubbing your eyes, but you couldn’t you felt constricted and a burn was on your arms, you looked down to yourself tied up to a big throne-like chair with Derrick and Callisto arguing loudly, but the moment you lolled your head up a bit trying to remove the tiredness and unconsciousness, they stopped in their places and looked at you with eyes which had red hearts for pupils. They immediately started to shove each other and coddled you while trying to outdo the other, with insults thrown at the other; you were being suffocated by their affection and you couldn’t handle how they lunged at each other…

You didn’t even realize how far their fight went until they started to pull out their swords… The splashes of blood, bruises and cuts was something that made you realize that this definitely wasn’t something you wanted in love…

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

💚👻👽👻💚

So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

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[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic january 23, perform, 486 words part one, part three

After he gets over the shock enough to sweep up the shards of his mug from the floor, Regulus sits down on his couch and pulls out his phone, googling James Potter. While there was still a tiny sliver of him that wasn’t completely convinced, there’s no doubt left in him now as he looks through the search results.

Because pictured under the headline Global superstar, James Potter, set to headline summer tour across the US is the very same James who was here in his flat only last week; in his kitchen, in his shower, in his bed.

Pulling up his contacts, he clicks on James’ number and brings his phone to his ear.

After ringing a couple of times, James answers, “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”

James isn’t wrong. While they text back and forth, and literally can’t stay away from each other whenever James is in town, they haven’t really progressed to just chatting on the phone; until now.

“How’s Edinburgh?”

“Oh, you know. Raining.”

Regulus looks out his own window at the rain that has been steadily falling for days; it comforts him, like he can almost pretend that James is just across town, instead of in another country.

“So, this is a little embarrassing, but I’ve just come across a bit of information that makes me think I might be the least observant person on the planet,” Regulus begins, the sound of James’ laughter filling his ear.

“Okay, go on.”

“I heard your new song.”

“Oh, they’re playing it already? I sent you a vinyl with a very nice thank you card that you were supposed to get before it was released,” James groans. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. It’s a beautiful song. It’s just,” Regulus pauses, a little nervous as he says, “You’re James Potter.”

“Yes?” His confusion is obvious in his voice, and Regulus can imagine the exact look he’s sure he has on his face right now.

“You’re James Potter. And I had no fucking idea.”

A pause. “Wait, really? Holy shit, I definitely thought you knew.”

“Here I was, imagining that you perform in pubs in front of like, fifty people. When you’re actually out there performing in front of fifty thousand. I’m such an idiot.”

He can hear laughter in James’ voice, laughter he’s definitely trying to hold back as he says, “I’m sorry. I really thought – it’d be a bit pretentious of me to introduce myself and be like, I’m James Potter, you might have heard of me, you know?”

“Oh this is definitely on me, not on you,” Regulus says. “Anyway, just wanted to fill you in on that revelation. Now I’m going to go off and listen to your entire discography. And read every article ever written about you. Bye.”

The last thing he hears before hanging up is James’ booming laugh.

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 1: Cuteness Aggression

oh we are so back

Thank you so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together for the second year in a row <3

No warnings for this one, just 800 words of Aether teaching Aeon rhythm guitar and them being too dang cute lol

"Put your fingers right here, yeah, right on that fret," Aether says, gently adjusting Aeon's fingers on the fretboard of their Fantomen. They've been at it for hours. Aeon's still relatively fresh Up Top, and they have a lot of learning left to do before they get sent off on tour.

To their credit, Aeon's an excellent student. They soak in new information like a sponge, eager to learn just about anything that's put in front of them. They adjust their fingers so they're playing the right chord, straightening with a grin when they strum and it sounds much better than the discordant thing they'd done earlier.

"Just like that, pup," Aether repeats. "Take it from the first verse." He hits a button on his phone, and the metronome ticks about twenty clicks slower than tempo. Aeon nods, starting to play.

Aether watches as Aeon makes their way through the verse and chorus of Year Zero, and he's taken back for a moment, fumbling over these same chords with far less grace than Aeon has now, Omega kindly readjusting his fingers. He shakes his head, dispelling the memory to watch them.

He watches Aeon's face, watches as their brow furrows in concentration, eyes locked onto their hands as they play. Their tongue peeks past their lips, watching their fingers move over the fretboard. Their tail wraps around their thigh, the spade tapping in time with the metronome.

They get through the verse and chorus, playing through the bridge without a single mistake, and Aether whoops. "You're doing so good, pup, took me ages to get that right."

"Thanks to you! You're a really good teacher, Aeth," Aeon beams, grinning so wide their cheeks dimple, and Aether's fingers twitch, curling into fists. If it weren't for putting the Fantomen in their lap at risk, he'd have pulled them into a crushing hug about three minutes ago.

He still mirrors their grin, flashing his gold capped fang. "Oh, don't mention it, pup. At this rate, you'll be outplaying me by the end of the tour." Aether watches in delight as a violet blush spills over their cheeks, and they shove their two-toned hair out of their eyes.

"Aeth," Aeon says, dragging it out as the spade of their tail pads against the vinyl floor.

"I'm serious," he says, reaching over to ruffle their hair. "Now, I want you to run that again a couple more times, and then we can see about getting you up to tempo."

Aeon beams, settling their fingers back in the starting position as they go again. Aether watches and fights every urge to squeeze them as that look of complete concentration settles on their face again.

Again, they make it through with no mistakes, and no mistakes when they loop the section for the third time. Aether grins, reaching over and turning the metronome slightly faster.

A half hour passes and Aeon's only improving. Aether couldn't be prouder of the younger ghoul, honored that this is the ghoul who will follow in his footsteps. Aether gets them up to tempo, and they're crushing it, eyes bright as it finally clicks in their head that they're doing it. He has to fight another wave of squeeze them as tight as you can, half-heartedly making another excuse about the guitar between them.

Aeon eventually sets the Fantomen back on the rack, rubbing absentmindedly at the callouses quickly forming on their fingertips. Aether can't fight it anymore. He stands, bringing the younger quintessence ghoul into a tight hug, holding their head to his broad chest, his fingers carding through their hair as he squeezes tighter and tighter.

Aeon yelps as Aether manhandles them into the hug, squirming until they free their face, gasping in a breath. They blink up at him owlishly. "Aeth, can't breathe," they wheeze. "What're you doing?"

Aether laughs to himself softly, not letting go but loosening his arms around their ribs. "Sorry, pup."

Aeon settles now that they're not being actively crushed, chest heaving. "No, really, Aeth, what was that for?" they ask. "Not complaining, but that was outta nowhere."

"You're just cute when you're in the zone, the face you make when you're concentrating is sweet." He ruffles their hair, knuckles against their scalp."Gimme your hands, I saw you rubbing your fingers."

Aeon complies, letting Aether take their spindly fingers in his grip. There's a spark of quintessence between them, just enough to soothe the sting from playing. In time, the callouses will harden, making it easier for them to keep playing. But for now, a little balm of magick won't hurt.

"I'm very proud of you, pup," he says as he works, glancing up to meet their mismatched eyes.

Aeon beams, settling more into Aether's arms. "Thanks, Aeth."

"Of course. Same time tomorrow. I'll get you started on Square Hammer."