ripped curtains

the signs as suburban haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere. 

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

GEMINI: the corpse of a cigarette that hasn’t touched a mouth in months, a dilapidated playground where lost souls come out to play, threadbare curtains ripped like the wings of a dissected bird, strange red-brown stains across the hotel bedsheets, a gate grown weary with new-forming foliage & age, whining erroneously whenever maneuvered. 

CANCER: an empty casket, coffee rim imprints across hardwood tables, an old, tattered shoe lying haphazardly on the side of the road, a junkyard littered with ancient cars still soggy with stories, a pick-up with a broken windshield, a cadillac with a massacred paint job, someone’s motorcycle with blood staining the front tire, an askew portrait with eyes that follow you around the room.

LEO: a carnival horse with one eye scratched out, a daycare centre that shut down years ago, plagued with the colorful ghosts of children’s drawings still tacked to the crumbling walls, a spiral staircase that seems to shift direction when nobody’s paying attention, crunched up beer cans rolling across an empty rooftop & lichen kissing the concrete. 

VIRGO: the supermarket, flickering & eerie at night like the shadows unearthed beneath troubled eyes, owls stirring in between the murmuring trees, a single upturned grave in a cemetery that isn’t supposed to be notorious for hauntings, an old fountain still glistening with pennies that are no longer considered currency, a collapsed bottle of wine running the tiles red.

LIBRA: handprints imprinted onto fogged-up windows, red rooms crowded with developing photographs of people whose faces you recognize but cannot quite place, broken doll heads, a necklace that erupted into a sea of pearls, a deflated blow up kiddie pool collecting parched grass and critters, a busted arcade game & the laughter of people long gone still trapped inside the walls.

SCORPIO: books with grimacing yellow pages, someone attempting to sell you a cursed object on etsy, a leaky shower-head, a clock that’s stuck in time, a torn, unravelled couch sitting deserted in someone’s front lawn, candy stores that proclaim sales on expired sweets & ruddy patches of farmland. 

SAGITTARIUS: basements stacked with unwanted toys, a box of thin-mints, footsteps reverberating around the house when it’s 2 AM and you’re home alone, a burned down lemonade stand, that weird alien light in the third window of your neighbor’s house that never seems to get turned off, a certain rattling coming from the kitchen.

CAPRICORN: rain pummeling against damp ceilings, clothes ripped off the washing line, an empty aquarium, obscure little thrift stores that sell leather jackets from the eighties, gas station lights flirting with you from the distance, the alley where they say the vagabonds roam their night countries, sniffing up and dressing down and slitting the throats of angels.

AQUARIUS: those tiny coffee shops that fill you with nostalgia for places you’ll never visit, ‘JESUS LOVES YOU’ spray-painted across the sides of ramshackle buildings, an antique almirah scratched to high hell, a monster in the closet, the tunnel beneath the bridge that half the town believes is a gateway to hell, smoking up in trip mall parking lots. 

PISCES: halloween decor presented in shop windows a couple months early, visiting that lake where you heard that one kid drowned, the garage door slamming without cause or notice, storing fireflies in jars, drugstore makeup, birthday cake flavored oreos, a wheeled desk chair that seems to turn on its own when nobody’s in the office, a candle snuffed out on a windless evening.

He rips back the shower curtain and Sam jumps under the spray of water, turns to look at him with wide, red eyes, whimpers, “My hair, Dean, my hair,” and holds out a weak hand, wet brown strands all tangled up with his fingers, a hunk that’s too large to ignore.

Dean knows with a sudden, distinct clarity what it feels like to have his heart break.

He reaches into the shower, through the spray to shut off the water. He pulls a towel off the rack, bundles his baby brother up and over the lip of the tub, dries him off slowly, carefully. The towel gets tucked around Sam’s waist, and he wraps Sam’s honeycomb wrists in one hand, draws Sam’s arms up and around his neck, turns around and tugs until Sam gets the message, presses one skinny leg up onto Dean’s flank so Dean can hook a hand underneath. The arms around Dean’s neck tighten enough that he can let go, secure Sam’s other leg up against his side, and he piggybacks his brother across the hall with Sam’s face buried against the back of his neck, water dripping from Sam’s hair under the collar of his shirt.

He leaves his brother on the mattress to wait while he digs out sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a sweater to go on top of it, bundles Sam up in layers because there’s snow on the ground outside. His own shirt is wet from the shower, but he doesn’t notice until they’re already outside and the cold spreads down his skin like the creeping touch of despair.

Dean only has his learner’s permit, but he’s a good driver, especially with his brother tucked pale and shivering into the passenger seat. Dad’s taken the truck to the shop because even with the extra help he hired on he still has to put in some face time, Mom too taking advantage of Dean’s being out of school to make up for some of the time she’s had to take off work lately, so neither of them are around to hear the distinctive rumble of the Impala’s engine turning over.

He drives them to a strip mall, parks in front of Great Clips, kills the engine. “Come on,” he says to Sam’s careful look, pats his brother on the knee to encourage him.

The shop is empty, mid-afternoon on a weekday, and a woman with a pile of curls on her head is spinning listlessly back and forth in the chair at the front counter, popping her gum. “Hi!” she says brightly. “What can I do for you boys today?”

“How much is it to get your head shaved?”

“Ten bucks.” She pops her gum again. “Which one of you?”

“Both,” Dean answers, and Sam makes a noise that’s basically a squeak (which Dean is totally gonna make fun of him for later), stares wide-eyed with shock.

Read Engraftment on AO3

Art commissioned from the unfathomably talented @hellhoundsprey.

The Signs As Suburban Haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere.

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

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remember that time jack ripped the curtain open while bitty was in the shower to complain about his music? like did you really have to do that jack? you couldn’t just yell at him by popping your head in the door? couldn’t just turn his music off yourself? you fool. you transparent goof. 

So I'm watching Strange Magic

And I love when two characters are fighting/training and they start flirting by teasing each other and insulting the other. Like just
• person A: you fight good for a(n) (insert description here)
Person B: thanks, you too
• “you have enough yet?”
• “you getting tired?”
“I could go all night.”
• “that all you got?”
• “I expected… more.”

Or when they are bonding over hating the same thing and are just destroying everything right there that has to do with that topic.
•person A: *flips table* I hate (insert thing they hate here) ugh!
Person B: ugh I hate it so much! *rips down curtains*

Or when they are supposed to hate each other and they are arguing but like you can see that they don’t want to be fighting, and that makes the fights that much more emotionally charged.

BTS Reaction to You Wanting to Shower With Them

Jin: Once you ask Jin, his eyes would widen and he would smile, giggling. “Yeah? How about we go do that now?” He would wash your back and shampoo your hair.

Yoongi: Yoongi wouldn’t say anything, but he would feel really excited. To him, this is a feeling of intimacy. Whether he wants to tell you or not. He would give a small smile and walk over to the bathroom.

Jhope: Hoseok would grow all warm and happy. He’d hold you over his shoulders, smacking your butt. Showering with him would be very fun. He’d blow soap bubbles and joke around.

Namjoon: He would be thrilled and it would probably lead to shower sex. Then that would lead to him slipping and falling knocking down all the bottles and ripping the shower curtain.

Jimin: Nothing would make him more happy than being able to take a warm shower with you. He’d be so excited he’d probably jump in before the water gets warm enough, freezing his ass off. Then he’d make you wash his back and hair.

Taehyung: This boy would suggest taking a bath instead which would start off very sensual then end up in a bubble bath fight and a huge pool off water on the floor. You wouldn’t get out until you both are pruiny.

Jungkook: “Isn’t that dangerous?” he would ask, confused. Then you would explain you aren’t having sex. He would be really up for it, and loving the idea of just standing under the warm water with you. He would hug you close and kiss your forehead. 

Ibn al-Qayyim Raḥimahullāh said:

“For a slave, there is a curtain between him and Allāh and a curtain between him and the people, so whoever rips apart the curtain which is between him and Allāh then Allāh will rip apart the curtain which is between him and the people.”

• [Kitāb al-Fawā`id pg. 59]

Shining Armor

A while ago I wrote some back story for Lucky Us featuring Marinette and her past relationship which you can read here. Today, it’s Adrien’s turn.

~*~

When he imagines her, he sees a woman standing proud, chin up, back straight, fists ready, commanding authority. He sees the girl who fought bullies for him, who picked him up off the ground and wiped his tears and gave him the last of her chocolate bar. He sees someone who would move heaven and earth to make him smile.

It’s no big secret, then, why he jokingly calls her “mom.”

~

He is not prepared for her to fall apart.

There is no protocol, no warning system, no drills to practice.

One day she is firmly fixed between him and the world, the next she is broken glass and shattered vases and ripped violet curtains and roses scattered on the floor.

He cannot bring these two images together: his knight in shining armor, and the girl who lies sobbing in his arms.

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