#mainevcnt

[darlinrogue]

Shawn 

Starter for @mainevcnt​ with Neraine

Rows and rows of sparkly, sequined, shiny, colorful, luminescent, lacey, dresses filled the store racks. Sweeping floor-length evening gowns, cute prom dresses with frills and embroidered beads, elegant wedding dresses in pale white, eggshell, and cream. The top 100 indie-rock Spotify list played on the store clerk’s bluetooth stereo from the front desk. The college-age woman lounged in her little wood chair with her feet propped-up on the counter. Dressed in plaid and ripped blue jeans she had her nose in the new best selling YA romance novel, Afternoon Stars. It was a lazy and quiet Tuesday afternoon at the large, sprawling mall in downtown. Nobody but elderly couples and a handful of socialites to rich to wait for weekend. There were three dress boutiques in this mall alone, one of them had to have what Neraine was looking for.

Neraine was systematic as she riffled through each dress, checking for color, texture, weight, size, and design. On the other side of the rack a woman and daughter debated the merits of a dress for homecoming. In the far back corner, a flock of women clucked over how to best coordinate the bridesmaid for a wedding. Shawn meanwhile, hovered at Neraine’s left elbow, well out of place in the shape as the only male. Neraine removed a midnight blue, sequined evening gown with a plunging neckline and girlish frilled sleeves. The color was right, but Neraine estimated the fabric would be too tight around the hips for the choreography she had planned. She also didn’t have near the cleavage to pull off that neckline, and the sequins were a bit tacky. She glanced at Shawn and held it up to him. Designed for a taller woman it’d almost fit him with some clever tailoring.

“This seems more your style than mine,” Neraine commented, appraisingly. “But I don’t know if something so dark would suit you.”

[viceprone]

       “ you  really  think  it’s  sanitary  for  them  to  be  stickin’  their  faces  in  like  that?  not  even  twenty  minutes  ago  i  got  a  peak  at  some  bloke,  soakin’  himself  among  the  apples.  callin’  it  a  natural  bath.  i  saw  balls,  shawnie. ”

horrorweenie  starter  for :  @mainevcnt​

[blackasteriia]

Man

@mainevcnt​/ @texasrcttlesnake​ liked for a starter X

The first aid kit laid open on the kitchen table. Xion riffled through band-aids, ace tape, tubes of Neosporin and Benadryl, the suture kit, ice and heating packs. In the bottom of the box Xion found the bottle of antiseptic. She placed it on the table alongside a roll of bandages, a bowl of water, and her suture kit. Blood stained the white fabric of her shirt sleeve scarlet. A sharp pain ran up her arm. She hooked the leg of the chair with her foot and sat down. Upstairs Xion heard the echo of the TV, the voices of ‘Taker, Kane, and Aeleus, too feint to make out words. The single light above the sink illuminated the dark room. By its glow, as she rolled-up her shirt sleeve, she eyed the damage. 

The lacerations ran down her bicep and tapered along the lines of her forearm. Jagged and unclean, indicative of the claws that’d cut through her. She’d been ‘home’ for only a few minutes and yet left a trail of blood from the back door. She’d clean the tile once she attended to herself. She reached for the washrag in the bowl. Quick, reacting to footsteps on the stairs she glanced-up. Xion lifted an eyebrow as the legs turned into the rest of the man. Tall-ish, blonde, she’d seen him before but only in the arenas-- ‘Taker liked him, a lot. Her attention slipped off him and back to her work. Xion slid the rag down her arm. She rang into the bowl, dripping muddled red and brown. 

“Evening.”

[sailorvinusmoved]

the first time shawn ever bumped into vi he was left breathless. the lights around them dimmed and sugar water by cibo matto started playing in his head.... it was so sensual.... vi is too powerful for anyone to handle. (mainevcnt)

✨ @mainevcnt this could’ve been 6 paragraphs but i didn’t wanna be that extra... gfkdjgd

It's okay, Shawn. It's okay. Get wrapped up in his energy, his aura, his feeling. It's expensive and fun and beautiful, all at the same time. Bubbling and glittery, shimmering like a rhinestone held to sunlight. Nothing more beautiful than a five-foot-tall angel dressed up in leather and holographic detailing, cheekbones beaming for the gods. Yes, honey! Virote picked up on Shawn's rhythm, too. Felt like swimming in a pool of moscato. Naked. Tiddies glistening. Prince playing in the background. Very Lovesexy era, very assless chaps but make 'em fashion.

Oh, yes. Virote took notice. That long mane? The chest hair? The way his ass looked in those pants? Shawn had all the cake. Hot cross buns. A whole bakery. Packin’ an entire custard bun factory in them jeans. Like walking into a Pilsbury haven, all that dough to knead. ❝I need you for measurements.❞ And, that's all he said. That's all he needed to say. 

Truly, a moment meant for the history books... Real hot boy shit.

[queenofgone]

🖤┊ ❝ @mainevcnt​ ❞┊ [ continued from HERE ]

     Oh shit. That was NOT supposed to happen. Kneeling down, a wave of guilt struck         her entire core. An accident, it was an accident, 100%. “Oh my god... Shawn, I...       I didn’t mean to kick you that hard.” A hardworking veteran in her own right, Nattie      always prided herself in being safe--- whether she trained with current peers or the       potential rising stars in developmental. A graduate of the Dungeon, her wrestling           style remained more to the ground so for her to do a dropkick instead of her          signature low variation, seemed far-fetched. She reached to grab a towel and        handed it to him, it should serve better than the back of his hand. “I-I...I’m really                                                    sorry. Are...are you okay?”

[viceprone]

@mainevcnt​  sent  :  “how  was  jail?”  for  jimjams

 the  putrid  stench  of  the  county  jail  still  clings  to  his  skin,  embeds  itself  into  the  fabric  of  his  clothes  and  lingers  in  his  senses,  causing  an  unsettling  lurch  in  his  stomach.  it’s  not  an  uncommon  sight  to  see  jimmy,  on  any  given  morning,  strolling  from  the  county  lockup  after  spending  a  night  stuffed  in  a  holding  cell  with  dozens  of  people.  all  piled  in  and  packed  to  the  brink,  awaiting  booking,  bail,  or  the  time  to  pass  until  their  hold  was  up.  he’s  not  even  sure  how  he’d  gotten  into  this  situation.  the  previous  night  was  a  chaotic  blur  of  drugs,  boozing,  and,  oh,  a  faint  memory  of  an  attempt  to  dropkick  one  of  L.A.’s  finest  when  the  pigs  crashed  through  the  door  on  a  noise  complaint.  

“how  you  think?”  he’s  nursing  a  dull  throb  at  his  temples,  shielding  his  gaze  from  glaring  sunlight,  and  avoiding  that  cocksure  grin  shawn  was,  without  a  doubt,  sporting.  somehow,  he’d  managed  to  avoid  a  ride  downtown  and  a  cold  hard  look  at  their  justice  system  at  work.  “how  come  i’m  the  one  always  gettin’  pinched?  i  didn’t  do  nothin’  wrong!”  besides  agitating  a  situation,  attempting  a  hand  at  martial  arts,  and  finding  himself  face  down  against  cold  tile  and  hauled  into  a  squad  car.  

“this  guy  took  a  massive  shit  in  our  tiny  cell  while  we  all  just  sat  and  watched.  stunk  up  the  whole  place, starin’  us  dead  in  the  face,  and  then  puked.  ain’t  never  seen  anything  more  depressing  in  my  life.  and  before  you  ask,  no  it  wasn’t  me.”

[viceprone]

        someone  once  told  him  he  didn’t  have  to  take  everything  offered  to  him,  especially  not  here ,  right  now ,  tucked  in  the  cramped  space  of  a  bathroom  stall  with  a  man  he’s  just  met.  it  was  a  mistake  in  even  coming  here ,  despite  fervent  promises  that  he’d  avoid  temptation ,  avoid  causing  all  out  mayhem ,  a  mess  shawn  would  surely  have  to  clean  up.  and  now  here  he  was ,  bent  over  porcelain ,  hoovering  not  one ,  not  two ,  but  three  lines  off  the  back  of  a  toilet.  it’s  a  temporary ,  yet  effective  way  to  get  him  through  the  night ,  and  he’s  not  sticking  around.  swiping  the  stash ,  making  a  haphazard  comedic  attempt  at  locking  his  dealer  in  the  stall  (  another  sworn  enemy  to  add  to  the  collection  )  and  stumbling  his  way  back  towards  the  bar. 

 “ay,  shawnie,”  a  heavy  hand  claps  his  companion  on  the  back ,  though  it’s  more  to  steady  himself  and  keep  the  floor  from  falling  out  beneath  him.  “i  think  it’s  just  about  that  time  when  we  bounce.” @mainevcnt​

[viceprone]

             ‘  say,  man,  you  ever  feel  like  your  life  is  one  monumental  screw  up?  ’  comes  the  sobering  thought  once  jimmy’s  popped  and  chewed  a  trio  of  aspirin,  the  bitterness  mixing  with  the  taste  of  bile  in  his  mouth,   which  is  quickly  chased  with  a  swig  of  antiseptic  mouthwash.  wincing,  fingers  gingerly  press  at  the  stitches  sewn  into  his  bottom  lip,      assessing  the  damage  and  emits  a  long  heaving  sigh.   ‘  eh,  yep,  it’s  up  shit  creek  from  here...  you  got  an  ice  pack  or  somethin’?  maybe  one  of  them  ones  shaped  like  a  little  polar  bear?  ’  @mainevcnt​