#Peaceful Urban Vibes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

catiuskaa · 1 year ago

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shoot on sight [straight through my heart]

TROPE! enemies2lovers crack+smut?, inspired by a post in Pinterest I can’t find~! —angy noises—p.d. nvm: here it is -not angy noises-

and it’s also a way of making me post after Hannie’s n Lix’s birthday!! \(๑>◡<๑)/

PROMPT: “Take me to laser tag, push me against a corner, pin me to the wall and make out with me, then shoot me and walk away.”

WC: 5k.

CW: language, mentions of dacryphilia, mentions of spanking, bullshit n crack in almost every dialogue, alcohol, they’re both drunk but it’s ok, then I got carried away: mentions of public sex, use of pet names “sweetheart, kitten” (IK BUT SPARE ME, IT'S MINHO OK, I HAD TO), fingering (f), oral (f), hand kink?, panty stealing "borrowing". (I really NEED to touch some grass...)

Don’t forget to have fun, my loves!

[☆ ☆ 👾 ☆ ☆]

"Minho, there’s something we need to talk about," you mentioned almost in a whisper, being careful not to be eavesdropped by accident by the rest of the crew, who were too bothered choosing who would need to call for an Uber.

It was kind of a weird statement, the one a quiet yet mean part of your brain came up with as you stared at one of the guests at Han and Felix’s birthday party.

You’d denied it if asked, just for the sake of your shared friends, but the only thing you’d like there to be between Lee Minho and yourself was a dense, thick concrete wall. As dense as the man’s mind: you enjoyed lying to yourself and pretending that he couldn’t take a hint regarding your attitude towards each other.

But no. The disgustingly oh-so-attractive man who had been staring at you from afar as the group divided themselves on how to go to where Chan had booked —pfft, no, you were sure he was fully aware of the effect he had on you, making your blood feel like raging fire in your veins as his mocking set you aflame as fast as a matchstick.

“Oh, really?” He questioned with a smug smile, yet wrinkled brows in confusion.

“It’s their party, and I don’t want to ruin the fun for ‘em. So I think we should call for a recess. A truce.”

He blinked, the smile on his face losing intensity. You dragged your hand through your face, wondering what was so difficult for him not to understand.

“I mean no fighting. Just for today, if you feel like it’s that hard to not resent me and bicker out loud,” you said in a huff, pouting unconsciously.

His act dropped altogether, and he stared at you, puzzled. “Resent you?” He repeated, as if the sole idea of you and hate in the same sentence was pure madness.

You let out a dry chuckle, feeling your chest tightening. The least he could do was accept it, but he had the nerve to play dumb? Your shoulders tensed up, and you had to force yourself to stay calm, sighing quite loudly. God, maybe the night was going to be harder than planned.

“It’s obvious you don’t like me, but still, I think we could drop it for Han and Lix.” You mentioned roughly, noticing someone approaching you two, and quickly approached him further, setting a big smile on your face. He remained baffled, eyes lost somewhere you couldn't reach.

"Hate you? I-"

Han approached you two, a huge smile on his face. You smiled back, your hand travelling to Minho’s and giving it a big squeeze, as if signing peace for the day, ending the discussion and making him stop mid-sentence.

“C’mon, guys!” Han cheered, passing an arm around your shoulders, separating you from Minho and arriving with you to the parking lot.

Coming down the cars, the group followed Chan and Seungmin, who knew the place and had been there before.

“Welcome to Blackout Lazz! How can I help you guys?”

Chan mentioned the booking he had made, and when all was settled, everyone was instructed to enter a different room with a whole new vibe, purple lights reflecting neon designs that looked like graffiti in what resembled an abandoned urban location. The girl from the entrance explained that the group would have to be separated into two teams. Han and Felix decided they’d lead separately, then chose members.

Felix’s team was Chan, Seungmin, Jeongin, and you, whereas Han’s consisted of Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin. You laughed as Hyunjin complained about the extra member of your team.

“Deal with it, Jin!” You giggled, teasing, team Felix sitting on the other side of the room, who had large benches in a sort of staircase design, allowing everyone to have a seat.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin, they need another member because they wouldn’t be able to compete with us if it was a fair fight.”

You tensed your jaw as you burnt holes in Minho’s neck, Han chuckling and high-fiving his friend.

What a bitch.

You noticed him looking at you from above his shoulder and winking at you.

boi-?!

“Okay! I’ll explain the game quickly just in case,” the employee from the desk smiled sheepishly, and you let out a sigh, trying to keep your anger for the game, hearing what the girl was saying.

In summary, everyone had three weak points: the chest, the back and the head. Each player started with three possible resets, meaning that after being shot on each weak point, they’d have another life, much like any game. The score worked depending on how many weak points you hit and how many players you could reset or eliminate. The back counted the least, then the chest and the most was the head because of how tricky it could be to aim.

Everyone started teasing and mocking the other group as another door opened, helping the team members to tie and put correctly the gear.

“Your gun will tell you how many lives you have left, and its light will turn red if you get shot at. To recharge bullets, aim down then press the button at the side.” She explained, passing a keycard over all of the guns, and turning them on. “If anything happens with the gear, this area will remain open and I’ll be here to reset your weapons or help you,” she explained, then hesitated before adding. “Refrain from practicing difficult stunts. Running is fine, but still, be careful,” she said in a huff, still smiling knowingly, and you all giggled lowly, as if she had ruined plans already made.

She passed said keycard over a panel, making another door open. Each gun turned a different colour, Lix’s team yellow and Han’s purple. They decided to play rock, paper, scissors to see which team could go in first.

“Hey there,” Minho whispered behind you, making you jump in your place, startled because of him, his voice, and how the fuck he could be so stealthy some time.

To you, it was always him.

You frowned, but before you could say anything, he smiled slyly. “Truce or not, it won’t make a difference to how I’m going to beat you today.”

You let out a dry cackle.

“Am I going to end up crying because of you? Maybe ending up getting spanked for losing?” You mocked, watching his shit-eating grin grow bigger on his face.

“Oh, most definitely,” he said, smug. “You’ll hate it.”

The mean laugh you let out confused him a bit. “Quite the contrary, honestly” you teased. “It adds to the kink list.”

You stared at the two birthday boys with a small yet naughty smile. It would have been more of a quote, rather than you couldn't pinpoint who had said it before, but a particular sentence suddenly floated its way into your mind.

If you keep shoving an animal into a cage, one of these days, it's going to fight back.

Having kept all to yourself, you were certainly going to use this as an opportunity to get your revenge and make Minho meet his doom.

Felix had won (as usual), and you smiled at Minho, showing off your middle finger as he stared at you with wide eyes, still assuming what you had said a minute ago. It certainly had to be the effect of the purple light and the smoke machine that worked just at the entrance of the playroom, but if you didn’t know better, you would’ve said he was blushing.

Nah. You shook your head sideways, scanning the area.

Several paths and entrances covered the place, some access to higher levels hidden behind walls and other different materials that contributed to the theme planned, toxic-appearing barrels laying around in a specific order, yellow do-not-cross tapes broken in some door to add to the eerie atmosphere. Smoke from different machines covered parts of the playroom, purple and white lights being the only illumination in every hallway.

“We need people upstairs,” Chan mentioned with a mischievous smile, known to be the pro at laser tag, running as fast as he did.

Felix nodded almost aggressively, the helmet being a bit big on him, making him look rather goofy. You giggled to yourself.

“Yeah. There are three levels." He said, almost to himself. "Maybe Innie and Chan Hyung could stay in this one, then…”

“Seungmin and I can take the third floor,” you said, almost dramatically, fist-bumping him, both smiling almost sadistically. “You guys can swap and buzz around first and second. Sounds ok?”

As everyone was happy, the team separated itself, each player looking for places to hide until the other team showed up.

“Minnie,” you called, stopping him from going further into the third floor. “You can stay close to this way up, and I’ll look for another one,” you offered, and he nodded, smiling widely.

“Let’s make them eat dirt!” You both celebrated, laughing, then separated again.

Sounds coming from the lower levels, loud steps and gunshots accompanied by screams and noisy laughs made their way up, not reverberating, but still loud enough to make you smile cheekily, already excited.

You kept looking for another way down, but then you heard a gunshot, and your back buzzed, your gun quickly glowing red.

You turned around, hearing a noisy, “YOOOHH BITCHES!” and couldn’t help but laugh loudly.

“Changbin, you traitor!” You shouted, running behind him. “I’ll sell my Dwaekki plushie on Ebay!”

You stopped the chase, panting. A thought came to mind that it had been suicide to play a running and reflexes-related game with people who lived for the gym and sports, or at least most of them.

Spotting Hyunjin, you smiled meanly when you shot him in the back.

“WHAT?!” He screamed, confused. "I DON'T GET THIS GAME!""

Your face was red from all the laughing and running, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. After a bit, you had shot Hyunjin around four times, Han three, and got your revenge on Changbin by getting his last shot and eliminating him. But you hadn’t been able to find the one person you wanted to fight against the most.

Your team wasn’t too much better than the rival. Chan stood firm, only having two shots left, but if you were correct, Lixxie was at one hit, and you and Seungmin were close to that, too. Jeongin was probably playing UNO with Changbin outside.

“Where is this bitch hiding?” You panted, running around before encountering Lix, whose face was red from all the exercise, his hair messily tied up. Now, as a duo, you scanned the second floor for the tenth time.

“Have you seen Minho?” You inquired, and let out a sly smile when he nodded.

“I heard him tell Han he’s almost out, but he’s using Hyunjin as a shield, so that’s that,” you both laughed, he stayed looking around as you layed on a wall, catching your breath.

All of a sudden, he let out a gasp, his gun glowing red.

“From the back?!” He groaned loudly, whispering insults as he tried to place who had shot his final.

“Man, you’re as bad as in League,” you mocked, wheezing, as he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Say whatever, but if I’m out, you’re alone. Good luck with that fucking camper!”

You grinned, staying behind that wall, knowing that whoever had eliminated Felix couldn’t reach you from that angle.

Minutes passed in what felt like hours. Soon enough, you and Chan were the only ones left in team Felix, and Minho was the remaining soldier fighting for team Han.

“Let’s divide again, there’s only ten minutes left,” Chan said in a huff.

You started lazily running away, but then heard gunshots from behind, Chan’s laugh almost echoing in the playroom.

“Don’t let that cheater win!” He screamed before heading to the exit.

There were seven minutes left.

It was almost anxiety-threatening, roaming around each and every nook and cranny of the place, unable to find Minho.

A static-like sound came from several speakers on the walls.

“The remaining players will play in Blackout mode! Let it be a one-shot winner!” the voice said, sounding similar to the girl from the entrance. “No campers allowed, team Han!”

The white lights suddenly turned off, leaving you alone in a purple-illuminated space. You sucked air in from your teeth, your body tensing. That was good because now you could find him, but at the same time, it wasn't. Now, there was no chance of you knowing where or when he would strike, the light not actually doing anything except colouring the playroom.

You started walking around aimlessly, passing your hand through your hair in a nervous tick from time to time. Until you got to a dead-end.

It was a big room at the end of a hallway, close enough to the exit that you were sure Minho wouldn’t think about searching inside, spacious enough to hold different walls and obstacles to hide and take cover.

In your head, he should’ve been struggling for a while before finding you, letting you shoot easily at him the moment he’d find you.

Instead, a sudden presence approached you from behind. You felt his body pressed on yours, and before you could even aim or shoot, he quickly gripped the hand you held your gun with, separating it from him as he turned you around, now facing him.

There was no place for what or any insults you could’ve thought of as he sharply and decisively trapped your lips with his.

You let out a confused sound, his touch feeling almost abrasive as you had been sweating for what felt like days but had only been half an hour, the taste of his lips so weirdly enticing that even if you hadn’t moved, it strangely made you crave for more.

He stopped and backed away when he noticed you stayed still, but in a rushed impulse, you took him from the collar of his shirt with your free hand, the other one still under his, gun in hand, and pulled him back in.

You felt him smile in the kiss, pressing you a bit more against the wall behind you as it started growing more intense, deeper by every second. Your free hand laid on his chest, allowing you to notice his heart racing in a rhythm you didn't expect —but even if you didn’t know just yet, the reason for his racing heartbeat wasn't the whole 'shoot on sight” deal. It was you.

To him, it was always you.

You broke the kiss, trying to assume what had just happened. It felt impossible, yet it still made your insides churn and turn, and it had only been a kiss.

You had always secretly wished for a concrete wall between him and you, yet funnily enough, it sat behind you, allowing him to keep you in his arms, and you, not even thinking of pushing him away.

The air seemed to crackle with anticipation. The tension in the purple-lit room was palpable, like a storm about to break. His dark eyes locked with yours in a passionate gaze and then, with a sudden surge of longing, met you halfway, closing the gap.

Your mouths met, not in a gentle or hesitant manner, but with an almost reckless abandon. It was as if a fuse had been lit, and even if you still felt like a matchstick being turned on, this had a way different meaning in your head now. You could've sworn it had changed your brain chemistry.

The sensation was intense, like being caught in the midst of a raging wildfire. Tongues that danced in a wild, untamed rhythm, tasting the heat and desire that enveloped them, fueled by the rage, the adrenaline, the sudden desire that started to creep out from its cage. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, their hearts racing, and their bodies tingling with a shared, burning intensity.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, lost in the flames of the moment, until you pushed him slightly to catch some air.

His grip on you lost tension as he stayed still, almost panting.

“Players! There’s only one minute left!”

You bit your lip slightly, but right before you could react, he directed his gun towards your chest, and shot you.

You stared at him in disbelief, wide eyes and mouth shyly parted.

“That has got to be cheating.” You muttered.

He smiled slyly, aproaching you again, settling his free hand on the wall behind you, trapping you back.

He gave you a small peck.

“Pfft. Sue me, kitten.”

Walking towards the exit, he winked before dissapearing behind the walls, leaving.

[☆ ☆ 👾 ☆ ☆]

“How does it feel? The loss? The pain?” Han mentioned smugly as you came back from the toilet, now wearing a simple skirt and a top as Jisung cockily pranced around, as if he had been the one that had given you your last shot when of course, it had to be Minho.

Thinking about him made you bite your lip. He was nowhere to be found, and it was eating you from your insides. In the best way possible, of course, ‘cause thanks to him, the game had ended with you in a… particular situation.

You sat, and rubbed your thighs together, but still deadpanned at Jisung.

“Shut the fuck up, you were eliminated before we even reached 15 minutes. Game lastes 30. Let that sink in, birthday moron,” you smirked.

Laughing at his fake childish sadness, you tried to forget about what had happened in the playroom. How he had settled his thigh in between yours. How he had bit your lips, then softly passed his tongue over, almost soothing. How he had pushed you against the wall, caging you between it and his broad figure. How he…

“Hey, you ok?” Felix approached, a sheepish grin on his features, yet brows arched in what you then recognised as worry. “Your face is all red. Here, have some water.”

Just after he had mentioned it, you felt your cheeks hot, and acknowledged your warm state. You wished they hadn’t turned even more red when you blinked awkwardly at the realization, hoping to drown as you drinked from what he had handed you.

“Thanks, Lix. So… what’s the plan?”

“Mmhm… Jisung wants to go get drunk, his words, not mine,” he smiled. “His argument is that winners choose, and honestly, I can’t really argue about that,” his hand brushed his hair back as he laughed softly.

Everyone gathered in a resting space crowded with sofas, in the main area of the building, after Chan and Minho had called for an Uber.

That’s when you saw him again, and you had never imagined the thoughts that would instantly crawl their way to your mind —which was something, considering the wide range that your imagination could reach sometimes.

In that moment, it was as if the relization hit you, bluntly and unexpected, having been hidden and buried under piles of childish arguments and pride.

But god, after what had happened, you couldn’t help but accept your fate.

The man looked absolutely scrumptious.

“Do you mind?” He asked, getting close to you.

His lips, full and enticing, made you lick your own. You couldn’t help but think if its intense pinkish colour had always been like that or if it had been something more recent, something like yours on him, nibbing, kissing—

“Mmhm?” You pondered, still lost in your thoughts, not understanding.

“I want to sit, idiot.” He gestured to the small yet free space next to you, grin shining on his face. You blinked, cheeks further red, and scooched over the other side, making space for him.

You body tensed up when his hand grazed your leg. It was as if he had turned off a switch you didn’t know existed, making you unable to focus on anything else, the small chat that the group was having already forgotten.

He gave you a quick glance, as if checking if you looked uncomfortable, but you didn’t dare to say anything. Instead, when you felt like he was going to move his hand away, you rushed yours over it, shyly sliding it a bit further on your thigh.

He almost choked with his own saliva, quickly grunting and clearing his throat, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, Earth calling to Minho…?”

Both of you turned to face Changbin. He had a smirk on his face that lasted no longer than a blink, but you felt that maybe there was something you were not getting.

“You guys weren’t paying attention, so you’re stuck to go on Uber,” Seungmin said as he put his jacket on. “Han, Hyunjin, Chan, Changbin and me are taking the old man’s car.”

“Seungmin, that’s treason!”

“Fuck off!” He laughed, leaving.

The car ride had a special tension between Minho and you, again, sitting next to each other, his hand drawing patterns midlessly on your upper thigh that made you bite your lip the whole journey to the bar.

Getting off the vehicle, the cold night air hugged you tightly, the warm, fuzzy feeling inside you not leaving fully.

“Girl, c’mere! We’re doing shots!” Hyunjin took you by your arm, dragging you inside and close to the bartender, who served you your drinks with in an amazing speed.

Drink after drink, the dizziness in your body grew more intense. You chugged each glass hoping to make this new feeling of longing and desperation go away, but as you both stared at each other even when in opposites sides of the bar, the sensation took over your body as he eye-fucked you across the dance floor.

Hyunjin ditched you quickly, as drunk as he was, not really on purpose, rather just too into the music that the crowd separated you from him, but you were quickly surrounded by another body.

It wasn’t who you thought —or wished, much to what a much sober, small and confused part of your brain still struggled to grasp—, his touch not feeling as warm as back in the playroom.

This new guy smiled at you when you turned around, as if saying ‘hey, girl.’ Maybe he had even said it, but you hadn’t heard it due to the loud music blasting on the place.

Or because you stumbled and crashed against another hard and lean surface, one that sneakly settled a hand on your waist, moving you further against him.

“Mine,” he stated, and you didn’t know why but in that moment the sureness in his voice made you almost tremble —or however the fuck it was called, but with the amount of booze in your head, you didn’t care.

The guy frowned, but fortunately was quickly taken by another man, who smiled uncomfortably, leaving as he mumbled what sounded like scolding to his friend.

You laughed goofily at the sight, not noticing how Minho pulled you from your wrist until you had left the crowd and as he let you use him as a way of stabilizing yourself.

He couldn’t lie to himself, he had to be drunk too, maybe not as bad as you were, but he definetely was, or he wouldn’t have been able to pull of what had happened two minutes ago.

“It’s so hot in here…” you whined childishly. He guided you to the bathrooms —or what he guessed was the bathroom— and let you find your way towards the sink, as you splashed water on your face.

The main area of the bathroom was a shelf-like sink with a big mirror. Behind you and Minho, two different doors, one for men, and one for women, and to your left, the one for physically disabled people

“What was that in the dance floor?” He wondered, staring at you through the mirror.

You turned around, laying your weight on the sink, showing off a smirky grin. “Well, he showed up. And with you leaving me as horny as I feel, I think it is bound to happen that I may have some fun tonight.”

“With him? In that skirt?” He grunted, not really showing if he thought of the idea as something funny or stupid.

“I mean, you haven’t done too much to give me other options, no?”

In large but painfully slow steps, his hands laid next to your body, by your sides, leaning in so you’d be face to face.

“Really? I haven’t?” He murmured, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips, licking his own. He let out a chuckle when you shook your head sideways. “What if… I offer myself as an option?”

You smiled, giggling, the alcohol not letting you fully control the emotions you chose to display.

“You’d like that, huh?” He teased, his breath smelling like a mix of drinks that you suddenly craved more than anything.

You hands traveled to the neck of his shirt. “Am I that transparent?”

The moment you pulled and met him half way, you never realized how hard it would be to stop.

His hands roamed over his favourite areas of your body, which seemed to be all of them. Uncontrolled sounds creeped out as his lips traced open-mouthed kisses on your neck, moving up to lick behind your earlobe. You felt your body weaken at the sensation of his lips.

"Did you enjoy it?"

His question, as well as the alcohol running down your blood, baffled you, not letting you understand. "W-What?"

"Leaving me so fucking hard, sweetheart. You owe me one."

Bitting your lip as his actions grew intense, you stared at him.

"I never asked you... to leave."

He chuckles, his breath tickling your neck.

"I'm not leaving now..."

"B-but this is just... revenge..." biting your lip harder didn't cover the sounds you were making, but Minho loved every one of them.

"Revenge?" You feel him smile on your skin, his hand lowering towards your ass, shamelessly gripping and fondling it under your skirt. You tremble in his arms. "That's a strong word... but no, I don't want that..."

You lick your lips, trying to soften them after biting too hard, feeling a small dent mark on them, knowing your lipstick has got to be everywhere except your lips— Minho's now coloured in the same soft cherry colour, looking glossy and pink and so goddam kissable.

"Then what do you want?"

His hands trailed mindless figures, marking a path to where you both knew you needed him the most, and you visibly shook when he graced his hand over it, softly stroking your inner thighs.

Okay, that was very clear.

Your mind flashes thoughts of you hating him, and a small part of you doesn't know why you're letting him touch you like this, but as his hand goes below your skirt and above and his fingers start moving softly over your underwear, you choose to make future you worry about the outcomes.

Tonight's main course is him and his beautiful hands torturing you with pleasure.

Minho groans slightly, and you could swear it's the best sound you've ever heard. "God, you feel so wet already..." You whine as he keeps a dreadfully slow pace, moving his hand in small circles, and his words only make the pleasure pool in your lower belly.

"Minho..." You moaned because not one of you cared if he just dragged you inside the bathroom to finger you when everyone was partying and dancing right next door.

He hummed, grinning, so close to you that you felt the alcohol breath surround you, almost as if you were drinking it yourself.

"Sweetheart."

His voice was not the cockily and irritating automatic voice you were used to when bickering and teasing. Instead, it was low, full of lust, and his breathing was so close to erratic that you almost laugh in disbelief. This wasn’t what you had planned for today. No, you would've never thought of this, but right now, there was nothing you'd rather be doing.

"Want me to put my fingers inside you? To make this pretty pussy mine? Yes? Use your words, kitten," he teases. “I know you can.”

You could feel every word, every syllable, all over your skin as goosebumps spread through your body.

You nodded eagerly and managed to mutter out a quiet "yes," and as soon as he started moving, you knew you wouldn’t last shit.

You were a mess, moaning and shaking uncontrollably, not sober enough to notice when he pulled your panties down just enough so he could start a full-on make-out with your "pretty pussy"— his words, not mine.

His face was buried deep between your thighs and half-hidden under your skirt, as his only free hand sank into your ass, squeezing it as he sucked your clit into his mouth in a way that made you forget not only left or right, but also up and down.

His pace increased as he coordinated his fingers with his tongue, and it was game over. if he hadn't been holding your body, you knew your legs wouldn't have supported you through it. You whimpered and moaned, not even getting to warn him as pleasure and heat flooded your entire body.

With a pleased smile on his face, Minho leaned back, removing his fingers from inside you, not flinching once as he locked his eyes with yours and sucked his fingers into his mouth.

Mind still in bliss, you let out a whine, back to biting your lip, taking his face in your hands and crashing your lips on his, tasting you on his tongue.

“Sweetheart," he whispered almost on your lips.

He bent again, giving a small tap on your ankles.

The black-laced fabric that had been covering you before was now deep inside his pocket.

"M-Minho...!"

He chuckled, fixing your hair in soft movements.

"Let's leave before I fuck you in a bathroom stall."

"But my panties—"

He placed a finger on your lips, shushing you with a smug smirk.

"Mine. Keepin' 'em for later. Now, c'mon, before you make me even crazier."

[hard hours]

[☆ ☆ 👾 ☆ ☆]

~Kats, who feels weirdly strange about writing smut, but also feels her liked posts, Wattpad and AO3 tabs plus actual physical books stare at her in disbelief.

happee birthdae to my favorite boys!! <3

373 notes · View notes

darknesseddiem · 6 months ago

Note

hi babe !

i hope your doing okay !! can i request n°10 and n°13 with roommate Eddie Munson, some angst and fluff pleaaaase ??

love u

nono 🫶🏻

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥

"With the raven's wings retreating into the night, the cold air carries the faint whisper of your escape—a haunting reminder that, just this once, you’ve slipped through the shadows."

This blurb is part of the writing game created by me, join me and the raven in this maze of stories. 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥.

Ever since you moved in with Eddie, your life turned into a complete circus, and not the fun kind.

I mean, this guy made it his personal mission to torment and annoy you in every possible way. It was like he had a sixth sense for when you were in a good mood, because that’s exactly when he'd show up with his unbearable attitude and ruin your day.

You’d be chilling on the couch, finally finding your zen after a long day, and boom, Eddie’s at your side with some ridiculous comment or a loud snack, crunching like a rock concert in your ear. It's like he had an alarm set to interrupt any hint of peace you managed to scrape together. He was the king of passive-aggressive vibes, and his superpower was turning your bliss into chaos.

But it wasn't like you had much of a choice. You'd just moved out of your parents' house, and your wallet was emptier than a ghost town on a Tuesday night. Plus, you had a lease binding you to this disaster zone of an apartment, and breaking it wasn't exactly in the budget.

So, there you were, stuck with Eddie the Terrible, who seemed to think that personal space was an urban legend and that common decency was for other people. Every time he walked into the room, it was like a dark cloud rolled in, and you couldn't help but wonder what cosmic force had brought the two of you together. If only you'd had a crystal ball before signing that lease.

Everything seemed totally fine at first. When Steve and Robin introduced him to you, he seemed chill, fun, even charming in that "he's probably got a ton of friends" kind of way. If only you'd known what you were signing up for...

The first few days living together in the apartment were bliss. He helped you with the move, carried all the heavy boxes, and went out of his way to make sure you felt comfortable. He was quiet when you needed silence, even respected your sacred moments on the couch while you binge-watched Modern Family. But, you know what they say, when the deal seems too good, it's time to raise an eyebrow.

It didn't take long for Eddie's true colors to start leaking out. Those same colors were about as subtle as a clown at a funeral. The same guy who had been so considerate and quiet suddenly turned into a one-man circus, complete with loud music and a never-ending collection of weird hobbies that made you wish you could build a soundproof bubble around yourself.

Silent nights turned into your own personal heavy metal concert, and your sacred couch time was constantly disrupted by the RPG campaigns he insisted on hosting at the apartment. Oh, and let's not forget about the marathon sessions he spent in the bathroom, perfectly timed to when you were running late. It was like the old Eddie had vanished into thin air, replaced by a cheap knockoff who didn't understand the concept of a volume knob—or basic courtesy, for that matter.

Gone were the days of quiet evenings, replaced by head-banging riffs that could wake the dead. Trying to watch your favorite show? Forget it—there was always a horde of his geeky friends crowded around the kitchen table, rolling dice and arguing about some wizard’s spell-casting ability. You'd go to grab a drink and feel like you'd wandered into the middle of a convention.

And those bathroom stunts? A whole new level of infuriating. You'd be in a rush, scrambling to get ready, and he'd be in there for what felt like an eternity, probably reading one of his comic books or watching cat videos. The guy had a sixth sense for the exact moment when you'd need the bathroom, and he used it to make your mornings an absolute nightmare.

Which brings us to the present moment: you pounding on the bathroom door like there's no tomorrow, hopping up and down like a kangaroo, and shouting for the thousandth time. "Eddie, I swear to God, if you don't come out of that bathroom right now, I will pee on your bed!"

The only response you got was a noise that could only be described as someone eating in the most grotesque, inappropriate way. "Wait, are you... are you watching ASMR while I'm about to explode into a puddle of pee? Oh no, you did not. You are going to hear from me!"

The sound from inside got louder, and then he replied, "Sorry, I can't hear you. I'm busy watching this guy stuff a whole chicken leg into his mouth."

It took every ounce of restraint not to break down that door and give him a piece of your mind. Eddie's antics had hit a new low, and your patience was hanging by a thread. This was the pinnacle of absurdity, the kind of moment that made you question every decision that led you here. You'd been through a lot with Eddie, but this? This was a whole new level of "what the hell." It was like living with a YouTube compilation of the most obnoxious trends, all crammed into one bathroom-occupying nightmare.

You might need a whole new strategy—or, at this point, just a new apartment. Because if this was a glimpse into the future, you weren't sure you wanted to stick around to see what else Eddie had in store.

“Please, for the love of God, let me pee…” you said, almost on the verge of tears. This was getting exhausting. Eddie must've sensed the shift in your tone, because the annoying sounds suddenly stopped, and the door swung open to reveal a metalhead with frizzy hair, wearing Looney Tunes pajama pants.

He had this sheepish grin on his face, like he knew he'd pushed you to your limit but didn't quite realize how close you were to snapping. He stood there in all his ridiculous glory, holding his phone with a paused video of some guy eating what looked like a plate of ribs, totally unbothered. "Hey, no need to be so dramatic, it's all yours," he said, stepping aside as if he wasn't the cause of your impending bladder explosion.

You shot him a look that could've melted steel, then dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. As you finally got your much-needed relief, you could hear Eddie outside, humming some awful heavy metal tune to himself. It was like he had zero clue—or zero care—about how his antics drove you up the wall. He was just Eddie, living his best life, while you were left to deal with the chaos he left in his wake.

After the morning incident, you grabbed your coffee and headed straight to work, determined to shake off the chaos that was life with Eddie. But you could only escape for so long, because lunchtime rolled around, and you returned to the apartment, only to find a scene that looked like something straight out of a sitcom—think The Office, but even more ridiculous.

Eddie was in the kitchen, wearing an apron that said "Kiss the Cook," with his hair pulled back in a makeshift ponytail. The whole place smelled like something was burning, and he was frantically waving a dish towel at the smoke detector, trying to get it to shut up. It kept beeping, and every time it did, Eddie flinched like it was personally attacking him.

On the stove, there was a pan with some kind of unidentifiable charred mess, which he was desperately trying to scrape off with a spatula.

Your smile vanished the moment you noticed that the charred thing in the skillet was none other than the octopus you'd bought just the day before.

"What the hell?" You were furious, and it didn't help that Eddie was grinning like he was some kind of innocent angel.

He shrugged, clearly oblivious to the level of your outrage. "Oh, that was yours? My bad, I thought it was just... some random squid or something." He scratched the back of his head, as if he'd just made a minor mistake and not destroyed a perfectly good piece of seafood. The sight of him smiling like that only made your blood boil even more.

Your plans for a delicious lunch were now literally ashes, and Eddie was standing there like he'd just successfully solved a Rubik's Cube. You had to take a deep breath to keep from shouting. You'd put a lot of effort into picking out that octopus, and now it was just a blackened lump that even the trash bin would reject.

"How do you not know the difference between an octopus and a random squid? And who just grabs something from the fridge without asking?" you shot back, trying to keep your voice from escalating into full-blown rage.

Eddie looked around as if hoping to find an excuse or an escape route, but there was nowhere to run. He was cornered, and he knew it.

That was the last straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and Eddie's expression shifted from cheerful to guilty in an instant. Before he could say anything, you turned and bolted out of the apartment, exhausted by the whole ordeal.

You couldn't stay there another minute. The anger and frustration had been building for weeks, and now it had boiled over. You needed space, air, and most importantly, a break from Eddie and his chaos. You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you couldn't be in that apartment for another second.

You walked for what felt like hours, letting the cool breeze and the distant sounds of the city calm you down. The world outside was peaceful compared to the constant drama of living with Eddie. As you strolled through the park and sat on a bench to collect your thoughts, you realized just how much the situation had been draining you.

You didn't go back home for the rest of the day. Instead, you found solace in the simple things—grabbing a coffee, listening to music. Anything to clear your mind and remind yourself that there was a whole world out there, far removed from Eddie's antics. You needed this time to figure out your next move, to decide if you could keep living with him or if it was time to break the lease and find a new place.

The one thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't keep going like this. Living with Eddie had become too much, and you'd had enough. It was time to put yourself first and find a way out of the madness.

As soon as you returned, he tried to talk.

"H—"

"Don't talk to me," you snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. No room for discussion, no excuses. Just the sharp edge of your words.

Eddie looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if he'd just been hit by a surprise splash of cold water. You'd never spoken to him like that before, but you weren't in the mood to hear whatever half-baked apology or lame excuse he was about to offer. After everything that had happened, you just needed space and silence.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded and backed off, his usual bravado deflating like a punctured balloon. You could feel him watching you as you walked past, but you didn't turn around. The time for talking was over, and you didn't owe him anything. You'd already had more than enough of his antics for one day.

You went to your room and closed the door, thankful for the barrier it provided. It wasn't much, but at least it gave you some distance from Eddie and his chaotic energy.

After some time reflecting, you decided it was time to talk about your decision. You went to the living room, where Eddie was watching one of his nerdy movies. He was glued to the screen, engrossed in whatever epic battle or spaceship chase was playing out.

"We need to talk," you said, standing by the couch with your arms crossed. Eddie turned his head, startled, but didn't say anything. He paused the movie, knowing this wasn't just a casual chat. "This isn't working," you continued. "I think it's better if I look for another place to live."

Eddie blinked a few times, processing your words. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, scratching the back of his head. It was clear he hadn't expected this conversation. "You're leaving?" he finally asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

You nodded. "Yeah, it's just... too much. The constant noise, the bathroom thing, and then the whole octopus incident," you said, laying out the reasons. "It's not healthy, and I can't keep dealing with this."

Eddie looked genuinely regretful. "Hey, I'm sorry about all that. I didn't mean to—"

"It's not about apologies," you interrupted. "It's about needing space, needing peace. We just don't work as roommates, and that's okay. But I can't keep living like this."

He nodded like he understood your reasons, but what he said next was not at all what you expected.

"Ever wonder why I always bug you?" he asked, looking at you with an expression that was hard to read.

You frowned and shook your head, genuinely puzzled. "No, not really. I just figured you were... I don't know, Eddie."

He took a breath and then, almost sheepishly, replied, "It's because I want to get your attention."

Okay, what the hell? Your heart suddenly raced, and your mouth opened in a shocked gasp. Was he serious? All those antics, the noise, the drama—it was all because he wanted you to notice him? It sounded like something out of a high school rom-com, and it left you reeling.

"Wait, are you kidding?" you asked, trying to process what he was saying. Was this some sort of joke? But the look on his face told you he wasn't messing around. This was real, and he was genuinely trying to explain himself.

Eddie seemed to sense your disbelief, and he shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed. "I know, it's dumb, right? But I don't know how else to talk to you. You seem so... I don't know, together. And I'm... well, I'm me," he said, gesturing to himself like he was some kind of cosmic disaster.

This conversation had taken a turn you weren't expecting. You'd come here to tell him you were moving out, and now you were dealing with a confession that threw everything into a whole new light. What were you supposed to say to that? It was hard enough dealing with his shenanigans as a roommate; now he was confessing that there might be more to it.

He continued, "Ever since Steve and Robin introduced us, I’ve been interested in you. You’re so smart, beautiful, and funny that I found myself falling for you, little by little."

Oh my God, it felt like your heart was about to burst from the rollercoaster of emotions you'd experienced today.

"Was it a stupid way to get your attention? Yes. Was I a jerk? Absolutely," he said, rubbing his temples like he was trying to make sense of it himself. "But I got so lost in my own feelings that it was the only thing I could think of to make you notice me..."

This wasn't at all what you expected when you walked into the living room. You'd imagined a straightforward breakup with your roommate, but now here he was, confessing that he had a crush on you. And not just any crush—one that had apparently driven him to turn your life into an ongoing episode of Jackass.

It was a lot to take in, and you didn't even know where to start. Part of you was still annoyed at him for all the chaos he'd caused, but another part of you felt a twinge of sympathy. Maybe Eddie wasn’t just the relentless man-child you thought he was. Maybe he was just... confused and desperate for your attention.

"Eddie," you began, struggling to find the right words, "you can't go around making my life miserable just because you like me. That's not how this works." You shook your head, trying to ground yourself. "I'm glad you told me how you feel, but this isn't the way to handle things. It just makes everything more complicated."

Eddie looked genuinely regretful, as if he realized that his antics might have done more harm than good. "I know," he said, his shoulders slumping a bit. "I didn't think it through. I just... I don't know, I panicked."

The whole situation was like a scene from a cheesy romantic comedy, but it was happening in real life, and you weren't sure how to navigate it. You'd come to tell him you were moving out, and now you had to figure out how to deal with this unexpected confession without losing your sanity.

You sighed, feeling like you'd been caught in the world's most twisted emotional chess game. After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you confessed to him, "I can't say I don't feel anything for you either... From the first day, I liked you, but I'm just so mad about everything." It was time to set things straight. "We can try something more, if you promise to never pull those idiotic stunts again, or I swear I'll kill you." The two of you chuckled at the last part.

Eddie's eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his face like you'd just given him the best news in the world. He looked almost like a puppy that had been let back inside after getting caught in the rain. "I promise, no more of that stuff. I mean it. If I do anything dumb, you can smack me with a frying pan," he said, putting his hand over his heart in a mockingly solemn gesture.

You couldn't help but laugh at his exaggerated seriousness. It was hard to stay mad at him when he was being so goofy. "I'll hold you to that. I have a pretty big frying pan," you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie chuckled, clearly relieved that you weren't storming out the door. "Deal. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to make things so hard for you. I just... I guess I went about it in the worst way possible." He rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. "But I'll do better, I promise. If it means we can try something, then I'll be on my best behavior."

It felt like a weight had been lifted, and the tension in the room eased a bit. You knew there'd be a lot of work to do to make this living arrangement function without the constant drama, but at least now you had a new understanding between you. It wasn't exactly the romantic journey you'd pictured, but at least it wasn't a total train wreck.

"We'll see," you said, giving him a half-smile. "But one more thing, Eddie—if you ever lock me out of the bathroom again, I won't just threaten to pee on your bed. I'll do it." The laughter that followed was a sign that maybe, just maybe, things might work out after all.

“Okay, I’m starving,” you said, breaking the mood with a light touch. “Sushi?”

“Sushi?” He grinned and pitched his voice into a silly imitation, making you roll your eyes. “Eddie, I’m serious,” you said, trying to sound stern.

“Eddie, I’m serious,” he repeated with an even bigger grin.

“Stop mocking me,” you whined, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Stop mocking me,” he echoed in an exaggeratedly whiny voice.

“I’m getting the frying pan,” you threatened.

“Sushi sounds great to me,” he replied instantly, flashing you his best innocent smile, you rolled your eyes and went to order the food.

You wouldn’t lie—even his idiotic ways had managed to win your heart too, but you’d never admit that to him.

#darknesseddiemask #darknesseddiemfics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddiemunson #roomate! eddie munson #eddie munson x f!reader #fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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darkmaga-returns · 5 days ago

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Thoughts in the Immediate Election Aftermath

The Prudentialist

Nov 06, 2024

"The demons cunningly withdraw for a time in the hope that we will cease to guard our heart, thinking we have now attained peace; then they suddenly attack our unhappy soul and seize it like a sparrow."

- St. Isaiah the Solitary

As the Associated Press has called the presidential race for Donald Trump, (with Kamala yet to emerge to offer a concession speech, at least at the time of writing this) I’m left with a huge shit-eating grin on my face. However I can’t say it’ll last forever, chasing a high from so many years ago will never be quite the same once you get a hold of it again. I sent my vote for Donald Trump during early voting, and if you include the primaries (and for the sake of disclosure) I have voted for Donald Trump six times now with this election being the last. I had voted for a bull in the china shop in 2016, thinking he would be safer in terms of foreign policy over Hillary Clinton, and my politics moved further to the right as I saw the bureaucracy, the media, big business, etc., rally against him and people who voted for him. 2020 of course happened, but we’ll get into that later on today.

And here we are.

The results as of this morning:

While the Spirit of 2016 crackles through the air like the spirit of radio did in 80s and the glass ceiling still stands without a crack, the nagging feeling of “I’ve been here before” lingers in my mind. Trump and his supporters have been called Hitler, fascists, racists, all the rest, and have seen conservative aligned businesses targeted, and any elite defections have lawfare and the like as Elon Musk and his companies have. Had the economic conditions been better, had the borders not been opened up for millions to pour in and to get better treatment than actual Americans, the constant preference for the foreigner over the citizen, the mandates, the inflation, all of it…this election could potentially have gone a different direction and this isn’t even mentioning the attempts on Trump’s life.

There are some key items as to how we got to here, in no particular order.

Biden dropping out of the race.

Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter (now X.)

Kamala’s poor quality as a candidate

Rampant inflation

Foreign Policy (Shipping Lanes, Israel, Ukraine)

Regime preference for foreigners

Lawlessness/Anarcho-Tyranny (Law and Order)

Open Borders - Every State a Border State

Countless more factors are included, but one thing that I think is really worth mentioning here is just how millennial coded this election was, especially for Kamala’s campaigns. From “Brat” to her appearance on the “Call Her Daddy” Podcast, her staffers going on TikTok to talk their “MAGA Uncles” as if they were literal preschoolers shows us that the mid-thirties schoolmarm schtick wasn’t going to sit well. Kamala was a piss poor candidate in 2020, and was already tied to an unpopular (and illegitimately elected) President Biden, and her lack of policy positions and presupposed “vibes” weren’t going to go far enough when the average person’s quality of life had gone down, costs have gone up, and the worship of lawlessness meant what they did have was very much at risk especially in urban areas. California has opted to be tougher on crime based on the results of Prop 36.

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alteredstatesstuff · 1 month ago

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city scape in the fall

#beauty #outdoors #peaceful #nature #serene #cityscape #street #urban photography #urban landscape #urban #street photography #fall leavdes #autumn leaves #landscape #fall leaves #autumn vibes #autumn aesthetic #autumnal #fall vibes

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rockybloo · 5 months ago

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Are people allowed to pass through Nana forest? What about hunting the animals that live there?

The forest Nana lives in is typically just nicknamed "The Lupine Forest" due to it having such big and tall trees similar to how Lupines themselves are typically big and tall when in their wolf forms.

It's not completely off limits to people. It's just that people are usually scared to pass through it due to rumors of there being ravenous monsters living within the woods that will eat any living soul that dares to enter.

Those that are "brave" (aka aware these are just rumors and not real) aren't banned from entering or passing through. It's technically open woods. So long as you don't throw off the vibes, you're good.

When it comes to hunting, that's when it can become an issue. Nana's father, when he was still kicking, wanted to avoid another forest becoming the victim to deforestation and overhunting, especially one he was raising a family in.

Typically, if people are hunting for food, they don't upset that balance of nature. Similar to if people are just chopping down enough wood to build something, and planting back down tree sprouts to replace what they took. So he'd make sure people did just that: only kill what you will eat and only cut down what you will replant.

This went pretty well and the forest was THRIVING until his untimely death. So Nana took the mantle of keep the forest at peace. She might not be as big and intimidating (at first) as her father but she sends plenty of people fleeing when they push their luck.

In recent times, the forest isn't so much a spot people target for wood so much as people preferring it as a hunting ground due to the thriving wildlife within it. Having been untouched by humans for so long, it has a very healthy population of animals that come in many varieties due to being able to inhabit such a peaceful environment.

And because these dense woodlands are filled with plenty of peak critters, many hunters, that want something new to mount their walls and brag to their friends about, flock to it.

Which pisses Nana off.

Greatly.

These are often the people that run back to their little towns and villages and scream and holler about the rumors of a monster in the woods being true after an encounter with an unhappy Nana.

Nana doesn't know it but she's a urban legend and cautionary tale to many (and not just in the Little Red Riding Hood sense)

#ask #ask: nana #ask: beanstalked #i like answering beanstalked questions a lot so i am always super happy when i get them in my inbox

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writingwithcolor · 2 years ago

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Jewish dryad character: non-human Jewish characters

writingthrowaway asked:

Is it ever acceptable to write a non human Jewish character as a goyim? I am writing an urban fantasy story with a mostly non human cast, and there Is going to be a discussion of religion at one point and one of the characters (a part human, part dryad) is explaining that being non human and having magic doesn’t give any answers, just different questions. His character feels very Jewish to me, but I am wary of creating a non human Jewish character due to the history of anti semitic portrayals of Jewish people as non human. I would avoid things like horns, green skin, etc, but am still worried.

At risk of being redundant, a grammatical note: “-im” is a plural ending in Hebrew and Yiddish. Seraphim, Nephilim, lechayim, and yes, goyim, are all plural. The singular is goy. It’s also not necessary or particularly more respectful to express that you’re not Jewish by saying “I’m a goy” than by saying “I’m not Jewish.” It’s not disrespectful, it’s just not necessary. If something feels meaningful to you about saying “I’m a goy,” “I’m a gaijin,” “I’m a gringo,” etc, you do you, and now you’re able to do it less incorrectly.

As to your actual question, I think it’s lovely to show non-human, non-villainous characters practicing Judaism. Although we don’t proselytize, we do accept converts, and there’s a lot to play with in questions about how someone with different biological and potentially social needs would practice Judaism, although that would require a significant amount of research to write from the outside. Having that person be linked with trees is especially interesting, since Judaism has a lot to say about trees in a lot of contexts. If the character is half human and half dryad, that might open the door for you to learn more about the experiences of multiracial and mixed Jews, as their experiences might mirror those. I might point you to Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, who has written publicly about her experience as a mixed-race Jewish child and public figure, as a possible inspiration.

You listed a few tropes of non-human character attributes to avoid, and you’re right about them. I encourage you to consider also the negative tropes attached to Jewish human characters. In a previous ask I listed some negative stereotypes of Jewish masculinity, and noted that many of them are only negative if the context is set up to frame them that way. You could choose either to avoid giving your Jewish, half-human man any of those attributes, or to include some of those attributes but frame them as positive or endearing, particularly the ones about a character’s looks or intellect, but for instance I would avoid demonstrating his Jewishness through tropes like having poor boundaries with his mother or being unusually cowardly. I don’t think you’re headed in that direction but it was worth saying.

Honestly I love the idea of non-human Jewish characters, it sounds like you’re conscious of the tropes involved, and I think you’re on the right track for creating this character sensitively and well.

-Meir

Since we have an actual Jewish tree holiday and your character is part tree creature I'd love to watch a character like that celebrate Tu Bishvat 💚

I agree with Meir that yes non human Jewish characters! But I disagree about gentiles/outsiders/etc. using “goyim” for themselves just because it’s a word in another language that you don’t actually need. It means “nations” and to me it has an “everyone else” connotation. But I’m just one person so feel free to listen to either one of us on this. I think the reason it strikes me as off is the use of a random word in a language you aren't using for anything else but that specific word, when there is a word in your language. Like it has the same vibe to me as saying you want the atmosphere in your reading nook in your apartment to evoke "shalom" rather than just saying you wanted it to evoke peace, if you're an English speaker. But yeah my response is mostly the "everyone else around us" connotation I'm used to associating with the word. Again, please don't take either me or Meir as law, we're just demonstrating the two Jews three opinions phenomenon.

—Shira

#Jewish #supernatural beings #dryad #goya #Jewish holidays #Jewish culture #representation #asks

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malfnction-54 · 8 months ago

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#photography #aesthetic #peaceful #vibes #city #urban #indoor #academia #dark academia #light academia #school #hallway #spooky #liminal spaces #liminal #eerie #eerie aesthetic #eeriecore

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avegool · 1 year ago

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City Boy, Farm Girl

Read on Ao3 Here.

The little bar was hidden in one of the back alleys of one of the many culturally distinct sections of the City. It was one of the only animatronic-friendly bars and was often full of them. Animatronics didn’t necessarily drink, but they wanted to be able to go to social places, too, without the possibility of being attacked for not being “normal.”

What even was normal in the world? You could be more robot than human, but you would still be ranked above the animatronics.

Animatronics were seen as lesser beings. Servants. Slaves, to some. To you, they were friends. They were just like everyone else, just without the human parts hidden beneath the metal.

Though, the one looming over you at the bar was one of the least pleasant ones you had the misfortune of meeting. For someone who only came up to your shoulders, they were sure adamant about hitting on you. They even made lewd comments about your ass. You ignored the ferret-shaped animatronic at first, continuing to drink the whiskey in your hand.

Then, Ferret got handsy.

Now. You weren’t confrontational in the least. You tried to keep the peace in any situation you were put in - a rarity in the City. Most people would throw a hit or whip out a gun whenever the smallest little problem arose.

You chalked it up to being raised on a farm, not in the crazy urban City that never ended, never slept, and never stopped. No wonder people were violent here. You would be too, if you grew up in such a toxic environment.

But when the Ferret touched your ass. That was it.

You placed your cup down on the countertop and swiveled on the bar stool to look at him. He leaned against the counter and grinned at you, his fluffy ears jolting upright.

“Touch me again, I dare you,” you warned, “I might not be a city girl, but I know how to put an animal down.”

His inner fans whirred and he leaned closer. Ferret clearly enjoyed your threat. He grabbed onto your arm with his claws and gazed up at you with half-lidded eyes-

“Wow, a fleshy that can turn me on just like that, please say-”

Another claw, larger, sharper, and greener rested on the ferret’s head. The smaller animatronic turned his head, his neck creaking from the excess weight now placed upon it. His speckled-green eyes widened at the sight of the newly arrived gator- or maybe he was a crocodile. You weren’t sure.

“Now, I know ya weren’t hitting on my girl,” the gator said, “You know what I do to creeps like ya?”

The fact that a second, larger animatronic was now here and claiming you to be his was terrifying. What did you do to deserve this treatment? Is it the lack of cybernetics that most of the other City dwellers have? Or did you just give out a vibe? You had no clue, but you regretted going for an overpriced drink in the slums of the City. You might have been better off just going to your hotel room and snatching a drink from the fridge.

The ferret recoiled from the alligator, nearly tripping on his own tail trying to get away. Whoever this gator was, he was clearly known around the bar. Once the ferret was gone, the gator took his seat in the bar stool beside you.

You wearily watched him before rotating your legs back under the bar. You downed the rest of your whiskey and wondered if you should run while you had the chance.

The gator rapped his knuckles on the bar, “Another one of what she’s having.” he demanded.

The human behind the bar nodded. Her bangles and rings jingling as she moved to get the bottle of whiskey from the shelf. She poured an amount into your glass before disappearing onto the other side of the bar again.

You stared at the glass and shivered. Now you were in the gator’s debt. Whoever he was.

You decided to nip it in the bud before you got yourself in too deep.

“Thank you,” you said, “But I can handle myself. I was doing fine before you came in.”

It came out ruder than you expected, but it was good enough. Maybe he would get the hint and move on. You weren’t interested. You weren’t staying in the City very long, and you didn’t plan on making friends or anything else.

“Sure looked like ya needed help,” he grumbled back, lowering his star-shaped glasses to get a good look at you with his red eyes. “You’re a fleshy. Doubt you could last long against one of us.”

He…made a point. Unlike the majority of the population, you did not have any enhancements. No super strength. No super agility. Nothing. You were just a plain-Jane human. An animatronic could easily overpower you. There was no comparing a fleshy and an animatronic. Would the ferret have gotten pushier? Would he have forced himself on you? You’d never know, now.

You finally grabbed the glass and took a sip of the whiskey. He got it for you. You might as well drink it. He did you two favors. You won’t let them go to waste.

You say your name.

The gator grunted. He was just as rude as the ferret.

You downed the rest of your whiskey and stood up, placing a tenner on the bar top. You patted down your cargos.

“Thanks for the drink,” you mumbled, “See ya.”

You didn’t make it very far before the gator grabbed onto the sleeve of your leather jacket. You don’t turn to look at him, but you do stop. He obviously wanted to say something.

“Monty,” he said, “That’s the name. You’re not from around here, are ya?”

You chuckled and stashed your hands in your pockets. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, it is.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Let me walk ya home. Streets get dicey at night. Especially ‘round here.”

Your immediate answer was ‘no.’ But. The ferret could still be lingering around outside, waiting for you. Or something worse. Your first night here you were harassed by a group of men. Everyone made the City out to be so great, but in reality, it was just a cesspool of the worst people.

You turned to look at Monty over your shoulder. “Yeah, that’d be nice, thanks,” Came out of your mouth before you meant it to.

Well, no changing your mind now. Monty stood up from the barstool, and you realized just how tall he was. He easily towered over you, and the size of his arms made you completely understand why the ferret was so terrified. Monty was gigantic and looked strong. His bright-red mohawk and beard paired with the leather trousers he wore tucked into large combat boots was downright…no it wasn’t as scary as you thought. It looked good on him. Monty didn’t wear a shirt, though, you supposed he didn’t need to.

He sidestepped around you and walked toward the bar door, waving his hand at the patrons he passed. His tail swished back and forth as he walked, though it was elegant. It never got close to knocking anything around. A few of the other customers waved and called his name, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out why he was so well-known. Monty wasn’t your friend. He was just a dude walking you home.

The door jingled as it closed behind you. Monty was standing a little ways up the alley, waiting for you to come lead him. But he wasn’t looking at you. His piercing red glare was aimed for something just behind you. You looked over your shoulder, and the ferret was standing there, petrified. Good call having Monty walk you home.

Monty’s tail beat against the wet stone of the alley, impatient, probably. You spared the ferret one last, nasty glance before hastily making your way toward the gator.

As you approached his side, he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Where to?”

“I’m staying the hotel on Third,” you said, “The Jefferson.”

Monty began to walk toward the direction Third street was. He knew the City well, you realized. It was so large. You got lost the first day you came. The underground was confusing, and you struggled to decipher it. But he knew exactly where he was and where he was going. Maybe it was an animatronic thing. Maybe they had an inbuilt GPS. With your sense of direction, you were a tad bit jealous.

You followed behind him, careful to not trip on his tail. It swayed left to right in a pattern, and you couldn’t help but watch it.

“How long ya stayin’ for?”

You barely recognized that Monty was talking to you. In fact, you nearly missed the curb he stepped off, causing you to stumble. He just watched you over his shoulder with humored eyes. Smooth, smooth. Only you would be a clumsy dumbass in front of this monstrous animatronic.

Your brain finally registered his question.

“Oh, only a few more days.” you replied, “I only came here to settle some family matters, then I’m going back to the farm.”

Monty grunted in reply, stepping up onto the next curb. There were no cars on the street. In fact, cars were rarely used in the city. Most people used some sort of flying scooter contraptions or the Underground.

“Ya live on a farm, huh?” Monty mused, “I bet that’s borin’.”

You almost stumbled on his tail when you stepped onto the curb. But Monty grabbed ahold of your sleeve before you could step on it.

“Not too boring,” you countered, “I like the peace. Don’t you ever get tired of the toxicity of the City?”

Monty stopped walking at your question. It was an innocent one. He recognized it. But truthfully, he never thought of leaving the City. It was the only place that animatronics were “welcomed.” He was built and raised here.

Before he could reply, a scooter zipped by, and you jumped. They were loud when they were too close to the ground. You even fell backwards onto the cement of the sidewalk. Ouch. Monty growled in the direction of the scooter, but said nothing about your damaged pride.

He offered you a hand.

Gratefully, you accepted.

Once on your feet, the two of you continued to walk. Third street was a few blocks up, so you didn’t expect to make it there for at least a little while.

Finally Monty gathered an answer. “I don’t think I’d like it out there,” he said, “At least here, people tolerate us.”

It was a weird way to word that. You hummed to yourself in thought. Animatronics were certainly looked down upon here. They weren’t treated well at all, and were still considered sub-class citizens. They couldn’t vote. They had little to no rights. Most places didn’t even allow animatronics in the doors.

“My neighbor’s an animatronic,” You said at last. “Everyone treats him well. He even comes to repair my machines, sometimes. Really good guy.”

That was news to him. He’s never heard of an animatronic leaving the City. This was where they would go to get repaired. Upgrades. Anything they could possibly need.

“What does he do if he gets damaged?”

The question left Monty’s mouth before he could stop it. Life outside the City was a curiosity, now. If another animatronic lived out there, then surely more could.

“He lives with the tech, actually,” you replied, “Some dude that used to live here got sick of the life. Brought Bonnie and a few others with him. Now he lives on a farm, but Bonnie’s the only one that tends to it. He’s been good at upkeeping Bonnie, though.”

The two of you crossed the street again until you were on Eight street. Monty kept his thoughts to himself now, though you didn’t seem to mind the questions.

You were rather charming, in a way. Different from the other humans Monty got along with. You didn’t look at him like he was beneath you, either. The fact that you chose an animatronic-friendly bar spoke volumes to him. Especially since it was nine streets up from your hotel. It meant that you had actively sought it out. Though, he wouldn’t say that out loud. He appreciated a good human now and then.

A few kids were tossing a ball-pod back and forth in one of the alleys. Two humans, and one animatronic. They were all giggling, and shoving each other around. You watched in curiosity as you passed, though Monty didn’t give them a second look. He was used to seeing the children that lived in the slums. Hell, that’s where he grew up. This was Monty’s domain.

“Hey Monty!”

“Hi Mont!”

The children started bellowing and calling out to him, waving frantically as they spotted him. You looked from them to the gator walking in front of you and grinned. Monty waved in the direction of the kids, but didn’t stop to talk to them. No matter. They continued to play with the pod.

“So. You’re quite popular here, huh?” you teased, “Are you famous or something?”

Monty was chuffed to hear that you could recognize his popularity. “Ya could say that,” he said, “Used to play in a band when I was younger. Now that I’m older, though, I just pick fights with the fleshies that think they can bully us.”

Ah. He was a vigilante of some sort. A punk. Though, he easily defended you against one of his own. Maybe he just had some hero complex.

“You ever get tired of that?”

It sounded ruder than you intended. Accusatory. In reality, Monty wasn’t doing anything to be ashamed of.

“No,” he replied, “It makes life worthwhile. Don’t ya get tired of digging in the dirt?”

“No, ‘it makes life worthwhile,’” you instantly replied, “There aren’t a lot of farms left in the world. It’s nice growing something non-synthetic. I’d invite you to visit, but I don’t think you’d like it.”

The truth was, Monty would like it. A large open field to run around in? No one to rely on him? Sounded like a vacation. Sounded like magic. The only grass Monty had ever seen were the rare bits and pieces that poke up in the sidewalk before maintenance. Everything about your life was completely foreign to him.

“It can’t be too bad,” he said, “If someone like ya can handle it, I definitely can.”

You laughed at that. It was a nice laugh. Not musical or melodical. Real. Rough. A little dorky. It was endearing in a society where everyone had to be perfect.

Monty watched you from over the tops of his glasses, entranced by the look on your face. He almost wanted to laugh too. Your laugh was contagious. He even felt his silicone lips rise in a grin.

“Fine then,” you countered, “You’ll have to come spend a few days on the farm. I’ll show you the ropes. You’ll be a farm boy in no time.”

Hospitality was rare. The fact you openly invited an animatronic you just met to your home, whether joking or not, was odd. Weird. You were weird. Trusting in a weird way.

Seventh street was quite busy. It had a few clubs and restaurants that were open to those that lingered well into the night. For people like you. People like Monty, too. Fleshies glared at him as he walked by. He ignored them. You glared back.

Monty only knew you for maybe half an hour by this point, but he liked your guts. And your smile. And your laugh.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” you hissed at a passing woman that had additional, robotic arms.

Why humans would fashion themselves with robotic limbs yet act in such an awful way toward animatronics was beyond you. Imitation was a form of flattery, but in this case, humans were trying to just be better than what they were imitating. It was annoying. It was shallow. Monty watched as the multi-armed woman huffed and entered the line for the nearest club. A few other humans that were commenting quite rudely on Monty’s looks withered under your glare.

Monty believed you now. You could defend yourself, at least against humans. And here you were defending him against humans. You were something else.

Sixth street wasn’t much better. But at least most of the humans on this road elected to just ignore Monty’s presence. You walked quietly beside him, looking around at the different neon signs in windows, eyes wide with curiosity, not unlike a child’s. The City was still so new to you, and you were leaving so soon, too. As much as you hated it here, there was just something so…nice about having anything within walking distance.

Monty watched you from the corner of his eye. He watched you looking around, bewildered and amazed.

He took these views for granted. They were all he’s seen his entire life. They weren’t interesting or cool or even pleasant anymore. They were just there, in the background of his mind.

“How ya sleepin’ here?” he asked, “Is the light annoyin’?”

A good question. You wondered if you looked like shit to prompt it, though.

“Eh,” you kicked at a stone as you passed it. “The lights are annoying, but I can sleep anywhere. The City just makes my insomnia a little worse is all.”

It was true. Your insomnia was a lot worse in the City. You knew you could be out wandering the streets and looking at things. The constant drabble of people talking. The lights constantly on and flickering. The noise was enough to drive you insane. The first night you didn’t sleep at all. Then one of the neighboring ladies in the room next to you offered ear plugs. She was a saint.

“Insomnia, huh?”

Monty didn’t know much about it. He didn’t “sleep” the ways humans did.

You hummed in response, tucking your hands into the pockets of your jacket. That was another thing you noticed in the City. It was never cold. Your jacket was just anxiety deterrent. It had no other use. You could walk down the street naked and be perfectly comfortable with the temperature.

It was especially strange since it was October.

It definitely explained why so many people dressed in so little clothes. That wasn’t for you. Fancy clothes did not bode well on the farm.

Fifth and Fourth street were practically deserted. A few humans slithered around the entrances to casinos and strip-clubs, but most were assumably inside. A strange looking animatronic sat on the front steps of a brothel, smoking some sort of pipe. How he managed to do that without lungs was beyond your comprehension.

“Hey Mon’gomery,” the robot breathed out a puff of multi-colored smoke, “Didn’ know you had a human fe’ish.”

Your face burned at the accusation, and you immediately looked away from the Fox-shaped animatronic. Is that why Monty was helping you? To get in your pants? Did animatronics even have anything in theirs?

“Nah, not like that,” Monty said, “Fergeusson was botherin’ her and I’m just walkin’ her home.”

The fox slapped his knee and chuckled, more smoke puffing out of his mouth and nostrils. You noticed he only had one good hand, the other was painfully absent. In fact, he looked really tattered, damaged. His ears with broken in different places, and his one eye was sunken in and covered in a patch. Dude had a rough life.

He also wore a security guard uniform. No doubt the guard for the brothel he sat in front of.

“Aye, he’s such a weasel tha’ Fergeusson,” the fox rolled his singular eye, “She is qui’e a beau’iful lass. Nor surprised he sough’ her ou’.”

Monty laughed a little, too. “She’s nice,” he waved the fox’s words off, “She’s a farm girl. Not used ta the City.”

The fox laughed a long. “Farm girl, huh?”

You nod, meekly, “All my life. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cut the conversation off, but I really need to get to my hotel.”

“Righ’, righ’,” the fox nodded, “Sorry bou’ tha’, maybe nex’ ‘ime. See ya la’er Mon’gomery.”

“Later Foxy,” Monty grunted.

Monty nudged you to start walking again, and soon you were on Third.

Your hotel was on the corner. It was the smallest and dingiest of the buildings on this street, but otherwise nice. It was one of the only remaining brick buildings in the City - most had been replaced years ago. The front desk lady had told you all about it. The hotel was a historic building. It was the oldest building in the City, supposedly. You didn’t know if that was true or not.

If it was, you thought they would take better care of it. Alas.

You stopped right in front of the hotel. The door was held open by a stone. The window on the left was shattered. There were leaves covering the porch. It wasn’t much. But it was your temporary home.

You turn to look at Monty. “Thank you for walking me here,” you said, “And thank you with Fergeusson. Ah…wait hold on.”

You pulled your wallet out of your pocket and flick it open to dig for some cash. But Monty grabbed your wrist before you could pull it out.

“Don’t need ta pay me,” he said, “I reckon you would’ve gotten back just fine without me, anyway. Just consider it a pit stop on my way back.”

Your eyebrows knitted together, but you elected to put your wallet away anyway. If he didn’t want money, then you wouldn’t force it on him. (It was money for the train ride home, anyway.) But, you didn’t want to send him away with nothing.

You motioned for Monty to come down to your height. He rolled his eyes behind his glasses but did bend closer to you. He assumed you were going to whisper something in his ear? Not that he had an ear, mind you.

But you didn’t whisper anything.

You stood on your tiptoes to reach the rest of the way and pressed your soft, pink lips against the side of his snout. And just like that, the warmth was gone and you were skipping up the steps into the hotel. Monty watched you disappear inside the door before he straightened his spine.

He gently touched the side of his snout that you had just kissed. More than a little surprised.

Monty never realized how warm humans were.

He spared one last glance at the door and turned around to walk back to the bar. He had a bone to pick with Fergeusson still.

You spent all day in the lawyer’s office, only to get nothing done. He spent too long on the phone with other clients, which, you supposed was fine since they were actually paying him. But your lawyer, who was your cousin, was doing your case free. Pro-bono. It wasn’t even really your case. It was your father’s, but he was too ill to travel anymore, so it was up to you to handle.

It wasn’t even a big deal. It just had to do with your father’s medical issues and his power of attorney should be. Your brother immediately demanded he be it. But he wanted to trash the farm. Sell it to the City so it could expand and he could make a profit. But you wanted the farm. You did all the work for it, and it was originally meant to be yours. Your father just never finished his will before he fell sick.

After a long ten hours, you called it quits for the day. You were hungry and nursing a poor mood, so you elected to once again go across the street into the alleyway to the only animatronic-friendly bar. That was how you found it yesterday. It was closest place that served food to your cousin’s office. The animatronic-friendly bit was just a happy coincidence.

You had never seen so many animatronics before entering the city. It was amazing yesterday being in the presence of them in the bar. Today, you hoped it would be just as amazing. Without the ferret harassing you. Hopefully. Maybe you would even bump into your new friend, Monty. You had asked your cousin if he knew Monty.

“Oh him?” he had sounded annoyed, “He’s a bit of a brute. Are you sure that’s the right name? I can’t imagine someone like Montgomery Gator walking a girl home at night. Bit of a ridiculous image if you ask me.”

You brushed him off at the time. Monty had been nothing but- well. He was considerate. A little gruff, but really not a bad guy. He was nice to talk to. He was really the only one aside from your cousin that you’ve spoken to all week.

The bar was less populated now than it had been last night. It was only a little after lunchtime, so you weren’t surprised.

The stool you sat on yesterday was unoccupied, so you immediately maneuvered to situate yourself there. You were a creature of habit. You enjoyed sitting in the same place every time. Once sat, you looked at the menu sitting off to the side to see what sort of foods the bar offered. You didn’t expect much, especially if mostly animatronics hung around.

As if like magic, shortly after you sat down, the bar’s door flicked open again and the bell jingled with the movement. You didn’t look toward the source, instead you continued to look through the menu. There were normal things you’d find at a bar - pizza, wings, fries. You weren’t really hungry for any of those things.

You’d kill for some of your mother’s cooking right now.

Fresh vegetables and fruits right off the farm? Sign you up.

The bartender noticed your indecision and approached, placing a glass of tap-water in front of you. There weren’t any other humans around right now, so he didn’t have anyone else to really attend to except for you.

“You’re not from here, huh?” he questioned, “You’re looking at the menu awfully hard, need any help?”

You wondered if you had a sign taped to your forehead that said you weren’t from the City. Every single person you had the pleasure to talk to could just tell. Was it the clothes? The lack of enhancements? Just your face in general?

“Don’t really need help, no,” you mused, “I’m just hungry, but not that hungry, I guess, as none of these seem to be interesting.“

The bartender crossed his arms and hummed, “We could go off-menu, I’m sure,” he encouraged, “The chef rarely gets to do anything special since we’re mostly busy with them robots. Whatcha hungry for?”

You wondered. What exactly were you hungry for? If a chef was willing to make you whatever you wanted, you should really take advantage of that.

“Stew,” you finally said, “Beef stew. With lots of potatoes.”

“Got it.” the bartender nodded and then disappeared into the kitchen through the doors behind the bar.

“That sounds pretty good.”

The stool beside you creaked with the weight of its new guest. You turn to look away from the kitchen doors and find yourself face to face with Monty again. Today, he’s wearing dark-washed jeans with platformed boots. A dark t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. No sunglasses, just tired eyes stared at you.

“Oh hey,” you said, “I wasn’t expecting to run into you again. Did you get home alright yesterday?”

The alligator looked at you incredulously at such a weird question - “Did-did I get home alright?“ he repeated. He was going to say something nasty, but at the look of genuine fondness and worry on your face, he had to bite his tongue, ”’Course, no one’s better than me.“

You beamed. Your smile was contagious, and Monty couldn’t help but grin back, eyes half lidded and face resting against his hand. Why were you so cute?

“Are all farm girls cute like ya?”

You weren’t expecting a question like that. Hell, he wasn’t expecting a question like that either.

You blushed furiously and averted your eyes, covering your face with a single hand as you looked the other way. Monty’s fans whirred to life in his chassis, and he, too, looked away from you.

Awkward. Awkward.

The bartender handed you another cup of water. You hadn’t realized you chugged your first one down. Or that he came out of the kitchen. You took a good few sips of this water, trying to ease the warmth in your face just enough so you could look at Monty again.

When you finally looked over again, he was staring. So much for getting rid of your flustered face.

“Didja sleep well las’ night?” he asked, “I know ya said it was makin’ your insomnia bad.”

Oh. He remembered your conversation from last night.

“Oh, well,” you rubbed at the back of your neck, “I barely slept, honestly. My insomnia was pretty awful, but I was also anxious about my meeting today.”

Monty tapped his claw on the bar-top, “How’d tha’ go?”

You didn’t remember exactly what you told him about your meetings. But you were pretty sure he knew you were here specifically for them.

“Alright, we’re almost done,” you said, “Should finish it all up tomorrow. I’ll probably take the late train home.”

Monty hummed in reply, his red eyes moving from your face to your hand clutching the glass of water. He couldn’t tell if you were relieved or anxious to be going home so soon. He had a general idea of how you felt about the City (not good), so he assumed you’d be happy, but something about your body language told him that wasn’t the case.

“Homesick?” he offered.

You took another sip of your water, watching as the kitchen door swung open and the bartender swept back into the room with a tray. He placed the tray on the bar beside you and moved the bowl off it onto the top in front of you, as well as a bit of bread and butter on a smaller plate.

“Yeah. I am,” you admitted to Monty, “At the same time, it’s nice to meet new people and spend time with my cousin. It’s kinda lonely at home.”

You took a deep smell of the stew in front of you and hummed. It was delightful and you couldn’t wait to dig in. Unravelling the napkin bundle, you pluck out the singular spoon and scooped a spoonful up, getting a fat chunk of potato with the broth. Perfect.

It tasted as good as it smelled. Gently salty. You could taste garlic and onion. It wasn’t as good as your mother’s, but it was a close second.

“Why dontcha stay, then?”

You swallowed the mouthful and placed the spoon down. Monty made a very valid point.

“Because I don’t like the City,” you replied after a few minutes, “It’s not for me. The countryside is where I belong, even if it’s a little lonely. I think I’d be just as lonely here as back home. Don’t you get lonely here?”

The truth was. He did. Monty didn’t have a lot of friends anymore. Not since Roxy and Chica moved away. He and Freddy never really got along.

“Yeah,” he grunted, “Yeah, I do.”

The conversation lulled.

You ate more of your stew. Monty watched out of the corner of his eye. Well. This was awkward, but you supposed that was to be expected. Monty wasn’t your friend. You barely had anything in common. He had just been nice enough to walk you home last night…and sit next to you today.

You nibbled on your bread, avoiding his gaze. He was staring at you, still.

Once your bit of bread was gone, you had no excuse to ignore him though.

“Don’t mind me, but I’m going to be a little forward here,” you cautioned, “You’re strong, and I could really use your help getting the farm set up for the autumn. I’d pay you, of course, and house you. Any repairs would be on me.”

Monty looked at you, surprised this time - “Look, kid, that’s nice an’ all, but we just met,” he said, but honestly? Monty did wonder what the countryside was like. And he liked you. More than he should for just meeting you last night.

You were interesting.

“Just, think about it!” you countered, “I’m usually pretty good at telling when someone’s a good person. I think you’d really like it on the farm, and…I think I’d like you on the farm, too.”

Monty looked away, rubbing at his snout and trying to calm his whirring fans down. You were so tantalizingly different than the other humans he met in the City. Trusting. Open. But you can handle yourself. You weren’t afraid of making a fool of yourself, either.

“I’ll think abou’ it.”

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. Monty really would be good to have on the farm. Plus, then Bonnie wouldn’t be as lonely.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a little while longer.

You spent all of the next day with your cousin once again. He was busy most of the time and couldn’t spare your issue too much focus, but in the few minutes he could spare, he did a lot. By the end of the day, you had all your paper work explained, signed, and tucked away. You had planned on staying in the City at least another week, but you weren’t too sad about going home.

Your cousin had shooed you out the office after he completed everything, telling you to finally go home and rest. You clearly weren’t built for City life if you looked this tired.

Instead of going to the animatronic bar like you had the last few days, you elected to just go back to the hotel room. You had to pack. You had to book a train ticket to get home. It would be expensive for a same day ticket, but you so badly missed home. You were sick of the City sights and smells.

You just had one little misthought about leaving.

Monty.

Even though you had only known him a handful of days, he was a quick friend. He had sat with you every time you attended the bar. The last day in particular, he was very interested in how things worked on the farm.

“What kinda plants do you keep?” Monty had asked, “It’s gettin’ cold so I can’ imagine you plan’ a lot right now.”

You had chuckled. “Yeah, we’re kinda just getting ready for the winter season,” you replied, “We still have some things growing - corn, pumpkins. My family makes corn mazes every year for the neighborhood kids to enjoy.”

“That sounds really redneck, no offense,” Monty had laughed, “Corn mazes? Do ya have pumpkin carvin’ contests, too?”

“It’s more fun than it sounds, I swear!”

You were going to miss him. It would be easier if you didn’t say goodbye. If you saw his face, you might just stay. You didn’t have a lot of friends, and now that you had one.

It was rough.

Your heart ached at the thought of leaving him, though. Admittedly, you were feeling a little bit of a crush for him. Though, you shoved it down as far as you could. You couldn’t love someone from the City. You couldn’t live in the City to be with someone.

You needed to go and say goodbye. And you would once you finished packing. You had to go that way, anyway, to reach the train station. Fortunately, you didn’t have a lot to pack. A few clothes. Toiletries. A few knickknacks you purchased in the City for presents. Each of those fit neatly in your duffel.

All you had to do now was pay for the hotel and leave. You double checked you packed everything before you left the room and closed the door behind you. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for the manager. He stood at the desk for the first time in days, scrawling something in a ledger. He looked up at you as you entered the lobby, smiled softly, and placed the pen down.

“Are you checking out?” He asked.

You nodded and pulled your wallet out to fish for cash. You handed him the remaining cash you had - just enough to cover the hotel room. Your cousin was generous enough to at least pay for that since he couldn’t house you. The manager counted out the bills in front of you, placing each one in an envelope as he did.

“Alright! Thank you for staying,” he cooed, “I hope you have wonderful travels. Hope to see you soon!”

You thanked him profusely. Then, you left the hotel too.

You had a late train, not until almost eight at night. You only had around an hour. But that should be more than enough time to go and say goodbye to Monty and then make it to the station on time.

The walk to the bar seemed so quick. Maybe it was because you were sad. Maybe it was because you had been there so often the last few days. Or maybe you were just moving fast, didn’t want to delay the inevitable. But you did know that the closer you got, the sadder you became. You didn’t want to say goodbye to Monty. It was nice having a friend in the City. And you doubted you would ever see him again after today.

That was even more depressing.

But you two weren’t particularly close or anything. At least. Neither of you said you were. You were just friends hanging out together while you visited the City. You told stories of your lives to each other, and nestled into booths in the back of the bar for privacy so you could get to know one another more.

But you couldn’t help but think back to when Monty had saved you from that Ferret animatronic. Claiming you were his girl.

Imagine wanting to be an animatronic’s girlfriend. It was weird, you told yourself. But you liked Monty. He was so nice to you, and he treated you so specially.

And he didn’t care that you weren’t from the City.

You shook the thoughts out of your head. No need to get yourself even more upset at leaving.

The bar was lively at seven. Lots of people and animatronics alike were piled in, watching the football game on the television, drinking to their hearts content. One animatronic couple were canoodling in the back of the bar in a corner booth, too.

You didn’t catch glimpse of your gator. Uh. Monty. He hadn’t arrived yet. You frowned and sat at one of the empty bar stools, placing your duffel between your feet. You would have to leave in a few minutes, with or without saying goodbye to Monty. While you waited, you ordered a rum-and-coke. It would help dull the anxiety in your chest over the long train ride coming up.

It didn’t take too long fort he bartender to get to your order. He placed it in front of you and frowned - “Are you looking for Montgomery?” he asked, “He hasn’t been in today. Said he had somethin’ to do.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

The bartender nodded and went to serve another patron. You stared at your rum-and-coke and frowned deeper. You supposed that you wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Monty, then. He was probably off with his friends. Or maybe he really did have a girlfriend, and you were just being some loser clinging to him every time he popped into the bar.

You sipped your drink and sighed.

Wow, you really hyped up a friendship that clearly wasn’t a friendship, huh?

He had magically shown up every time you were at the bar, but now that you were actually leaving, he was absent. You didn’t even have his phone number to call him and wish him goodbye.

You placed a tenner on the bar after you finished your drink, spared another look around the establishment, and decided you would leave. You couldn’t waste anymore time here.

You palmed your duffel and wished the bartender a goodnight. Then, you were out the door and back on the street. You had around thirty minutes to get to the station. It was about a twenty-five minute walk, if you remembered right. You didn’t waste anytime.

Montgomery had wanted to pick you up from the hotel. You made it pretty clear the night before that you were almost done with your cousin. And you probably would be leaving in the next few days. So, he “joked” about taking you out on a real date. Clearly you thought he really was joking. He had asked the manager if he could call up to your room. But the manager informed Monty that you had already checked out.

He knew he fucked up at that point. He should have made his intentions more clear from the beginning. Monty really liked you, for a fleshy. Not that he didn’t like fleshies. He just never thought he’d like one.

Monty had just left the hotel when Trevor, the bartender, sent him a text that you were there. With your bag. And you looked sad. Monty hadn’t even wanted to go to the bar today. He wanted to take you to his favorite hangout and introduce you to his friends. But of course, plans change when you don’t actually make plans.

By the time he got to the bar, you were gone already. He wondered if you had a train coming soon. He swore there wasn’t a train until nine, but he could be wrong.

He would just meet you at the train station, then.

You stood on the platform, just behind the yellow line. Your duffel was slung over your shoulder again, and your hands were hidden away in the pockets of your leather jacket. It was getting chilly the darker the City’s natural light got. You didn’t mind too much. You’d be on a train in a few minutes.

According to the board, your train was even arriving a little earlier than intended. You were glad you got there when you did. As much as it saddened you to not see Monty.

You really missed home, though. And you already checked out of your hotel. You couldn’t wait around on the hope that your gator friend would show up just to say goodbye.

You kicked at the bumps on the yellow line. There weren’t many others taking this train. It was the last train that led out of the City for the night. Your last chance to get home for today.

As you toed the line, you could hear the train approaching in the distance. Two minutes before eight, early like the board said. You watched it appear from a dark tunnel, its lights blinding you as you stared. This train connected to your neighboring town’s line, and you would just walk home from there. It was a peaceful walk through the corn fields, and you didn’t normally mind it.

It slowed down as it reached the platform, coming to a shaky and loud stop. Its doors pulled apart, and the passengers poured out. You waited patiently for the carriage you stood in front of to clear before you stepped into it. It was fairly empty now that most of the passengers had gotten off. You walked down about halfway before sitting at a seat with a table.

Then, you gazed out the window, waiting for the train to resume its journey once more.

Only a few more people got on your carriage. You ignored them in favor of looking out at the platform, more than a little sad to leave the City behind.

Someone sat beside you, much to your displeasure. The train was practically empty. Who in their right mind would sit next to a stranger-

“Hey, kid.”

You whipped around hard enough to nearly give yourself whiplash. Monty sat beside you, taking up one and a half seats with his giganticness. He had his head leaning against his hand which was propped up on the table by his elbow. He just stared at you.

“H-hey,” you said, “Wait. You can’t be on the train. It’s going back to my home.”

You shoved at his shoulder. Trying to nudge him to get up.

He let out a bark of laughter, gaining several glares from other passengers. “I know where it’s goin’,” he mused, “Wherever you’re goin’, I wanna go, too.”

Your face burned. Instead of shoving his shoulder, your hand relaxed and just sat there. Monty pulled the sunglasses of his face. He supposed he didn’t need them in the dark. He wanted to see you better.

“But what about your friends?” you asked, “You can’t just impulsively decide to come with me.”

Monty laughed again, “Are ya tryin’ to get rid of me?” he said, “Y’know, I came by your hotel. Wanted to take you out on a proper date, but ya weren’t there. Imagine my surprise.”

However red your face was before, it was triple so now. “What? I thought you were joking about that,” you said.

He gently grabbed a strange of your hair and gave it a gentle tug. “I wasn’t,” he replied, “I realized that I like ya. I like ya a lot.”

“But I’m not worth you throwing your life away to live in the middle of nowhere-”

“Shh,” Monty wrapped his arm around your shoulders, “City life ain’t for me anyway. I’ve been bored for months. And ya make farm life sound fun. ‘Sides. Who don’t like corn mazes and carvin’ pumpkins?”

“But Monty-”

“No, I’m serious here. Let me come and stay with ya, see where the two of us go. Consider it an adventure.”

Instead of arguing further, you leaned your head against his chest. He hadn’t expected that, and you could hear (and feel) his fans kicking on.

Something about him making his life alongside you an adventure stirred the butterflies in your stomach. Whether Monty meant to or not, he was causing waves of affection to just roll through your body. You never thought you’d like an animatronic like that. But in all honesty, you only knew the one from home. Monty was, by all means, alive. He might have been made out of metal and silicone, but he was real and alive and you could touch him.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” you whispered, “I didn’t want to leave…you…behind.”

“But ya didn’ want ta stay,” Monty said, “Me neither, honestly. City gets boring. And I’d like to see more of the world.”

The train finally began to move again.

“You know you’ll have to help around the farm,” you said, “Bonnie won’t let you be lazy.”

Monty shrugged and grinned, “I’m not afraid of some hard work,” he said, “I think I’ll enjoy life on your little farm.”

You wanted to laugh. Your farm was anything but little. He’ll see eventually.

But for now, you were just content leaning against him and thinking about the future you might have together.

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