#disrepair park

[r0b0s-robos]

Disrepair Park (Amusement Park AU):

This AU would follow mainly Gregory, Cassie, and Vanessa. In this AU, the animatronics from SB are instead, working at an amusement park that’s essentially abandoned. All of them are in their disrepaired/broken states.

Cassie and Gregory sneak into the Park after hours because Gregory was bullied and called a “baby” at school. His goal is to go into the rumored bunker under the park where (supposedly) the Park’s founder is buried. Vanessa, however, finds them and begins chasing them through the park.

Gregory and Cassie get separated when Cassie gets caught. But surprisingly, Cassie and Vanessa become semi-friends. Eventually, Gregory rescues Cassie from the guard’s quarters to continue their shenanigans.

The kids find safety in one of the warehouses and discover that's where the animatronics go at night.

Eclipse explains (quite bitterly) that the animatronics have been going missing. Bonnie is missing and presumed decommissioned. They all blame Vanessa and Cassie, who has heard how Vanessa cares for the animatronics and is looking for clues to Bonnie’s whereabouts, promises to clear her name.

Character Roles:

Eclipse: clown + manages the “strength” tests, carries around a giant inflatable hammer. he’s quite silly and still loves entertaining children, but has grown a bit resentful and bitter due to being left “broken”

Monty: Dunk tank. You get to throw things and dunk him. (no worries, he doesn't fizz out… much).

Freddy: Rollercoaster Mascot. He cant actually ride the ride because he’s too heavy. Design is up to interpretation, but I imagine him w/ the gaping hole in his chest and a semi-attached head.

Bonnie: Ski-ball mascot. He's missing an ear.

Chica: basketball/hoop games mascot. She still rummages around for food in the trash cans and also is a mascot for the food vendor areas.

Roxy: manages the Bumper Cars. Because. Because when she lost her eyes in SB she had to run and bump into things. I thought it made sense.

Staff Bots: miscellaneous carnies/game managers. They’d probably be called “Game Bots” instead. Each is designed for a specific game.

Cassie: Followed Gregory into the park as back up despite being told to stay behind. She adores Roxy and Chica and gets along amazingly with Eclipse. She truly feels for Vanessa and doesn't believe Vanessa would ever hurt an animatronic for any malicious reasons.

Gregory: Just a kid who snuck into the park after dark to prove he wasn't a “baby” and find the supposed resting place of William Afton. He’s still a big fan of Freddy, but he is a rulebreaker and unintentionally or not aggravates all the animatronics.

Vanessa: Night security. There's no virus in this AU, so don't worry about “Vanny”. She started working there because the night shift paid well. She genuinely doesn't have anything against the animatronics, but she's very off-putting and cold. She's definitely being framed and the animatronics (and Gregory for the most part) fall for it.

William Afton: Late CEO of the park. He died mysteriously and disappeared with his daughter and wife, leaving his son alone. There's a rumor that his body was found and buried in the bunker in the park.

Micheal Afton: Current CEO/Owner of Disrepair Park. He wants to figure out what happened to his missing sister, Elizabeth, and suspects that his late father had something to do with it. He keeps the park open so he can snoop and try to uncover what sort of evil his father was.

[get-back-homeward]

Friar Park topiary garden throughout the years: top, 1970 (credit: Barry Feinstein); bottom left, original Victorian era; bottom right, 2023 (credit: Clive Nichols)

Harrison sometimes referred to the house at Friar Park as Crackerbox Palace, but, in 1970, it needed repair. Years later, he recalled the condition of the house at the time of his purchase: ‘It was all rotting—and nobody was interested. They were trying to pull it down and destroy it.’ He added, with justifiable pride: ‘Now, it’s a listed building.’

Repairing the house was a massive undertaking, but every part of the garden also called out for attention, as Harrison began to uncover and appreciate the structure of what remained of Crisp’s dramatic garden after nearly 30 years of neglect. Mrs Harrison has vivid memories of these years of rediscovery: ‘George used garden flame-throwers to clear the undergrowth and put two goats to clear the weeds and brambles on the rock garden. He hired and oversaw a team of local builders, who cleared ceramics and shopping trolleys out of the lake, which the nuns had allowed to be used as a dumping ground. And he personally oversaw the workmen he hired to cement the leaks and lay new pipework so that the lakes could be filled again.’ The topiary garden was completely overgrown, reduced to an impenetrable sea of bushes that had grown into each other and overrun by such weeds as ivy and brambles. Sir Frank’s sundials had long since disappeared.

From Country Life on George Harrison's restoration of Friar Park gardens (December 2023)

[finalexpenses]

bioshock autism carries thru us all

[dragonofthemountain]

got sad thinking about abandoned animatronics again :(

[finalgirldave]

whenever I have to drive into DC for work, I'm amazed by the bad roads, crumbling infrastructure, and abandoned buildings, all of which are at a comparable level to what I see in Baltimore every day. I think "here I am in the heart of the American empire and it is visibly decaying"

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[nellielsss]

ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ?! (;° ロ°)

Summary: When the relationship is so well, you tend to forget a lot of things... such as your inability to drive A/N: So... this is inspired by my current predicament ���� I've put off getting my license for a while now but I'm getting it next week!! You're still welcome to read if you can drive. Pairing: Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Yami Sukehiro x reader CW: light teasing (reader can't drive obvi), mentions of car accidents, pure fluff, reader is married to Nanami, sexual jokes (Toji)

Kҽɳƚσ Nαɳαɱι

╰┈➤ One of the hottest sights to see was whenever your fiancé, Kento Nanami, put his arm on his seat so he could put the car in reverse and pull out of the parking spot. You didn't know exactly what that did, given the fact that you two rarely had to drive in the middle of Tokyo, but you still appreciated whenever he offered to drive the two of you out on dates.

"Those heels are pretty high, honey, are you sure you won't get too sore?" was something he said whenever you went out on date nights all dressed up for him.

"I like to look cute for you, Kenny," you pouted, putting the final strap of your sandals on.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to wear those ankle killers to look cute for me," he said with a chuckle, the smile breaking his usually calm and stoic expression. "You could wear a pair of flats or sneakers and still look like the most beautiful woman on earth to me."

"Don't get it twisted; I also like to look cute for me," you retorted once more, making him laugh again.

"Have it your way, sweetheart. I have to say: you do look quite cute right now. Now, would you like to take the car, call a cab, or take the metro?"

Right now, the two of you were getting quite serious in your relationship. It was time for you to abandon your 1 bed/1 bath apartments and upgrade to a bigger place for the two of you. It's worth mentioning that you both had different ideas of what the perfect place to live was: you liked living in the heart of the city, and a 2 bedroom apartment in a cosmopolitan area, close to plenty of subway stations and yummy restaurants to try; Nanami liked his peace and quiet, and that usually involved a long commute (much to your dismay). In the end, you settled on a house in a neighborhood that was perfectly close to what was going on and also far enough out that Nanami got some much needed rest and relaxation.

One of the problems of said neighborhood was the faulty subway stations that were frequently in disrepair. Most of the residents in your area drove cars in order to get places which meant that the neighborhood board didn't feel it was necessary to renovate the subway stations. This was bad news for you because you were one of the only people who took it everywhere they went. So, when the one closest to your house was under complete renovation for the week, you were left stranded and had to go wherever Kento went.

What was even more unfortunate was that one day, you had to specifically ask him for a ride to get somewhere. He was currently resting on the couch, having the day off, so you couldn't exactly hitch a ride and get dropped off somewhere close to where you were heading.

"Sure thing," was what he said without a second thought. You breathed a sigh of relief and were glad that the most embarrassing part was over, only for him to ask: "if you don't mind me asking, why did you need to ask me to give you one? Can't you take the car on your own?"

"Um... well," you said, a little nervous by the sudden questions. You then looked up at your boyfriend who now had a questioning look on his face.

"See, I could, but then I'd probably crash it... because I don't know how to drive."

And there it was: the ugly truth baring its fangs at your handsome fiancé. During your three years of dating and your one year of engagement, he'd never figured out why he was always the one driving or why you always took the subway everywhere you went.

"How come?" he asked in a tone that was neither judgmental nor harsh.

"So, you see," you started, trying to make it sound as normal as you possibly could. "I'm... afraid of car accidents. Very afraid of them," you said with a slight frown. "And I'm afraid that I wouldn't be capable enough to handle such a big piece of metal without something bad happening. What if I lost control over the steering wheel or the gas pedal got jammed and I... took another person's life?" You looked at the floor out of embarrassment. "Hah, would you look at that: a 28 year old who can't drive."

Kento looked at you, this time with an apologetic smile on his face. He reached out, cupped your cheek, and brought your gaze back to his. "(Y/N), don't be embarrassed. There are plenty of people who get by and live their day-to-day lives without needing a car. But, you need to understand that knowing how to drive is a very helpful skill in life. What if you were far away from any metropolitan areas and someone you were with got into a bad accident, and you had to drive them to the hospital?"

You looked up at him like a kicked puppy, a shy smile gracing your features. He always knew the best things to say for times like these. "You're right: I should know how to drive. I guess I just never got around to it," you said with a small huff through your nose. "You really are too kind to me, Ken. Anyone else would've turned their nose at me and passed me off as someone incapable."

"Why would I ever turn my nose at you, sweetheart?" He asked, his hand still on your cheek, now rubbing it with his thumb. "You still have plenty of wonderful qualities worth celebrating. And, you're right: you just never got around to it."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Why don't I teach you how to drive? I've been told I'm a great driver by people very close to me," he offered, making you giggle.

"You're simply the best fiancé, Ken. You'd really do that for me?"

"For you? I'd do anything. Now, let's fill out a permit form and get you that license."

"Alright, first thing's first: let's get out of this parking spot," Kento said, his hand steady and guiding yours as he gave you a demonstration. "Turn the steering wheel left, and the car will back up in that same direction, and vice versa for turning right."

"Okay," you said, determined to get out of that spot.

You began to reverse, only for him to stop you: "stop, stop, stop the car." You freaked out and looked at him, abruptly pressing the brake pedal. "Honey, you can't just reverse without looking behind you; there could've been a child!"

Speaking of the devil: there was a child walking behind the car.

"Shit... sorry," you said, biting your lip out of worry. He just sighed and shook his head.

"Make sure to use the backup camera; although on the actual test itself, you won't be able to use it, so it's best that you use your head to turn for now. Here, this is what you do when you reverse." He grabbed the steering wheel with one hand and turned his head in the opposite direction, and you almost got distracted by the veins on his forearms when he said: "eyes on me, sweetheart."

"Sorry, babe." You smiled at him bashfully before mimicking the action, reversing just as he'd directed you.

"That's it, honey, you're already doing so well," he said encouragingly, reaching out to press a kiss to your forehead.

Praise always made your stomach flip, even in non-sexual situations.

"Keep it up, and you'll be better than me in no time."

Sαƚσɾυ Gσʝσ

╰┈➤ Satoru Gojo was good at everything, and you knew that even before you got into a relationship with the powerful sorcerer. You'd always heard stories from both his friends and strangers about how he could accomplish anything very quickly with only a single demonstration given on how to do it. This man could do everything: play soccer, ballroom dance, speak 30 languages (according to him), and he was even good at chemistry! If you weren't the man's pride and joy--the man's girlfriend--then it would've been really annoying to put up with such nonchalant skill.

He still made sure to tease you from time to time, saying that he could do whatever you could do but with tenfold skill (he really could; he just didn't want you to grow resentful of him (not that you would)). These claims were usually never backed up because at the end of the day, he knew that he was just joking with you.

One of the best things about having Satoru Gojo as your boyfriend was him being your personal chauffeur who could drive you anywhere he wanted in the least amount of time with the most amount of efficiency possible. He was even good at riding motorcycles which you usually weren't too fond of, given how dangerous they were.

But, oh, how his teasing tongue was just so irritating whenever he decided to use it. The man was an amazing boyfriend and an even more amazing best friend, but he could also be really cocky at times and for good reason.

"Satoruuu, I wanna go shopping," you drawled out, your arms landing around his broad shoulders and pulling his attention from the stack of papers on his desk to you. "Mind taking me?" You knew the man couldn't possibly resist because of his love for shopping which was greater than yours (seriously, how was it possible that someone loved shopping more than you?)

Satoru chuckled and gave you his trademark cocky grin. "You're asking me for a ride like I'm your personal chauffeur, eh?"

"Is that not what you are?" you quipped back, making him feign hurt.

"I'm hurt; my girlfriend's been using me this entire time for rides!" he said sarcastically, putting his hand on his forehead for added effect.

"Like you don't love going shopping more than I do," you scoffed, taking your hands off his shoulders and putting them back on your hips. "C'mon; you and I both know you can't resist a good shopping trip."

"Never said I was trying to," he said, standing up from the chair and stretching his long legs out. "I've been needing an excuse to escape these papers, anyway. Always so stupidly menial and boring."

"You're the one who wanted to be a teacher."

"Yeah, so I could raise a couple nice generations of kids; not so I could raise my blood pressure with these papers that need grading!"

"Be glad you only have, like, 10 kids to worry about--some teachers have 30 per class. And even then, it's basically 9 kids to grade, since Yuji's papers are never that hard to grade."

"That's true," he acquiesced with a snicker, shaking his head at the boy's... delayed learning.

"Anyway, I'll grab my purse, and you grab your sunglasses," you said, walking away to get said purse from your closet. Once you did, you returned to find Satoru waiting outside, perched against the car nonchalantly.

"Ready to spend my money?"

"You know it, baby," you giggled, making him shake his head. Once in the car, he did his thing and reversed out of the space, driving to the mall with the skill of an F1 racer.

Along the way, his tongue was just itching to say something to you, though: "Y'know, princess, I find it funny how you're always needing me to drive places. You're like my little passenger princess," he crooned, patting your head, only to be met with your swatting hands. "It's like you can't even drive."

That little quip, while it may have had innocent intentions, made you freeze up for a moment.

That's right: Satoru didn't know about your lack of driving ability.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, looking over at you while his hands effortlessly rotated the steering wheel for a turn.

"More like my license," you muttered, making his teasing smile drop.

"Huh?"

"Are you as clueless as you are tall?" you asked, looking up from your phone at him, face scrunched up like an angry kitten. "I'm saying I can't drive."

That confession almost made Satoru hit the brakes in the middle of a busy road. "You can't drive?!"

"No!" you said, a little angrier and louder than you'd meant it to be. It was clear that he'd hit a sore spot, so he cooled off the accusations and the teasing. "I can't drive... I never learned how to. I was supposed to learn it when I was younger, but I... y'know, just forgot to! It slipped my mind, was all." Satoru let the weight of your words sink in, realizing that this was a big insecurity for you, judging by the defensive tone.

"Baby, I'm sorry for provoking you like that," he said. He only ever used the pet name "baby" for when you were either mad at him or in just a plain bad mood. "I had no idea."

"How could you have? I never told you," you scoffed.

"Well, that part is true... still, I should've known something was up. You always love car rides--you get to blast your music at full volume--but you never actually wanna drive yourself," he chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood.

"It's always been an insecurity for me." You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the dashboard temporarily. "My friends--our friends don't give two shits about that kinda stuff unless they don't get gas money, but whenever old-heads find that out they make it seem like you have stage 4 breast cancer. 'Oh, you can't drive? However will you get around places?' Uh, I dunno, the metro?" Your little joke about geriatric seniors not minding their businesses made him laugh.

"You tell 'em."

"I was gonna learn, I even promised myself I would... but then I met you, and I started dating you, and you were just such a good driver that I felt it wasn't necessary to learn..." He was about to say something when you decided to continue: "... but it's wrong for me to rely on you for everything. I'm an adult; I should be able to do stuff on my own, even if I have a boyfriend who makes everything easier for me."

Satoru's face relaxed into a soft smile, and he glanced over at you while still driving. "That's true--that's all very true. You are an adult, even if you're still my princess," he said while ruffling your hair. "Tell you what: in order to repay me all those car rides I've given you, you have to let me teach you how to drive."

You looked over at him, your smile replaced by a soft look of shock with your lips slightly parted. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"What kind of a man would I be if I let my girl struggle to learn with some old hag who barks at their students?" he asked with a toothy, cocky grin. "It's just like you said: I'm the best driver you know, so why not train with the best?"

"Satoru..." you leaned in suddenly, pressing a big kiss to his cheek. "You're the best! Thank you so much!"

"I know, I know," he chuckled, his pale cheeks slightly red from the praise. You then whacked him upside the head, making him let out an "ow!"

"Cocky bastard," you said under your breath.

"Alright, don't forget to use your turn signals, baby," he said, reaching out to turn it on.

"Right," you said with an apologetic smile. He was just like a mother hen when he taught you how to do stuff. Seriously, how could Yuji have been such a bad student? You were currently on your sixth driving lesson with your boyfriend, and you were already a better driver than most people you knew (except for him, of course).

"And keep your eyes on the road- watch out!" You were about to cross an intersection when an elderly lady was crossing the street. She barked some curses at you in Japanese before continuing on her way.

"Sorry!" You said to both him and the old lady.

"It's alright, you're still doing great," he said with a proud smile on his face. "See that sign up there? It says 'yield to pedestrians' which means you have to slow down and let any and all pedestrians cross before continuing. It's not your fault 100%; that lady was quite slow and small, but still, you have to keep your focus on the road at all times. No daydreaming or zoning off, no matter how hot your driving instructor is." He flashed you one of his cocky Satoru smiles before you whacked him upside the head again. "Ow! ... anyway, let's spin the block once more before calling it a day, yeah? I'll cut the lesson short since you've been doing so good."

"Can we get frozen yogurt after?" you asked, making sure your focus was still on the road.

"We can get anything as long as it satisfies my sweet tooth and doesn't break the bank."

As if his bank account wasn't literally limitless.

As you spun around the block once more, making sure not to hit any little old ladies or small children, you muttered an "I love you" under your breath.

"What was that, baby?" he asked, turning his ear to face you, "I don't think I caught what you said."

"I said I love you," you said, rolling your eyes out of how needy he was.

"That's the spirit." He smiled at you before relaxing into the seat, still keeping his focus for the two of you. "Y'know, maybe later, you can repay your gratitude to your super awesome and amazing and sexy boyfriend for being such an amazing teacher."

"In your dreams, snow leopard," you jested sarcastically.

Satoru merely chuckled and changed the song on the radio to something he liked better.

"Yeah, I sure as hell will be dreaming of it."

Tσʝι Fυʂԋιɠυɾσ

╰┈➤ Your man, Toji Fushiguro, radiated dilf energy from every fiber of his being. Even though you and him had yet to marry--let alone have kids, you knew that, one day, he was gonna be an amazing (and super sexy) father to your children. You already had baby names picked out for said future children, even though you'd still like to enjoy your youth before having them; you didn't wanna waste your youth on diapers when you could be getting turnt.

One of the things that made Toji so dilf-y in your eyes was the way he drove. You know that specific way that fathers drive the family van at a moderately-fast but not illegal speed & how they look so good doing it? Like they were built to be Nascar drivers? Yeah, that's how Toji drove, with his sexy girlfriend in the passenger seat to boot. A small part of him loved it when guys driving in the next lane over could see a beautiful chick & gained the slightest bit of hope that they could get your number before the light turned green... only to have their dreams crushed by the sight of the oh-so hot and oh-so intimidating man who was driving said car, his thick forearms on display and his veins popping while he had his hands on the steering wheel. They couldn't see his eyes through the sunglasses he wore, but they could tell that he was all but sneering at them. They'd look like little boys next to him, after all.

He also especially loved it when you two pulled over at the nearest secluded parking lot, horny out of your fucking minds and unable to resist each other's touch, and he especially loved it when you sucked his dick in the backseat and then rode his cock like your life depended on it (in that same backseat, of course).

Yeah, you guess you could say you loved it when Toji drove the two of you places. "Just sit back and let your boyfriend be your chauffeur, doll," was his tagline whenever you two hopped into the car.

You wouldn't deny him the opportunity to drive you around, especially since you couldn't drive.

Those little moments in the car would be put on hold, however, when Toji's arm got severely wounded while fighting a particularly pesky target. Not only that, but it was his good driving arm that he couldn't drive without!

It should've been fine, since he had superhuman healing powers and therefore only had to wear an arm-cast for a day or two. He had the day off, and he'd be damned if some stupid injury got in the way of enjoying his day off with his favorite girl. You'd also just be the one driving around, he presumed.

"Hey, sweetheart," his gruff voice said into your ear, making you jump out of surprise. "Sorry for spookin' ya," he said with a laugh, ruffling your hair with the hand that wasn't broken.

"Don't scare me like that; you know how silent you can be."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just too good of an assassin," he quipped, his laughter piping down. "Why don't the two of us go out and get somethin' to eat, and maybe get a dessert afterwards? You know I love something sweet to eat." You raised your eyebrows when he mentioned dessert, knowing damn well that his idea of "dessert" eating your ass. "Nah, nah, not that kinda dessert; I'm in the mood for a parfait or two. I've recently developed a sweet tooth because of your sweet ass."

"Or two?" you asked mockingly, raising your eyebrow.

"Big boys gotta eat big meals, am I right?" he asked, that classic Toji smirk never leaving his face. "C'mon, I'll even pay for it."

"Sure, sure, where do you wanna eat?"

Toji shrugged. "Doesn't make a difference to me as long as the restaurant's good."

"Alright, lemme just get my suica card."

"Don't you wanna drive instead? I know damn well you ain't walkin' in those heels, baby," he said, looking down at the 4-inch heels you were wearing. "Plus, I don't wanna ride the subway when I've got this big-ass cast on."

"O-Oh, um," you started stammering a little, not wanting to let him know that you couldn't drive while also not trying to argue with him.

Toji, however, in his infinite perceptiveness, saw you stammering, and that little smirk faltered a little. He looked at you with question, wondering why you were at a loss for words when it came to driving you two to the restaurant. "Somethin' wrong, baby? What's got you stuttering?"

"Um... well, the reason is because I can't drive."

Toji stared at you for a few seconds, letting the information sink in. "Doll, you can't drive?"

"N-No, I can't drive! I... never got my license," you said, your voice gradually diminishing in size. "I just didn't get one when I was younger, okay? Don't judge me for it!" you added defensively, crossing your arms over your pink top.

"Calm down, baby, I'm not judging you for anything," Toji said, raising his one hand to calm you down. "It's alright if you can't drive; if anything, it's cute."

"Cute?" you repeated back.

He chuckled for a few seconds and explained his reasoning. "Yeah: it's cute as hell that you need me to drive you around everywhere. You're like a cute little kitten: all defensive and hissy, but still dependent on me." He stepped closer and ruffled your hair for a few seconds to which you didn't swat his hand away. When he finally removed his hand and put it on his hip, he reached to take his phone out of his pocket. "So, should we take an Uber?"

"Yeah, if you want to," you sighed, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your cheeks together out of worry.

"Hey, hey, don't be so strung up, doll," he said, trying to relieve some of the tension in your body. "Once I get all patched up and take this stupid cast off my arm, you'll be back to being my passenger princess." He flashed you a crooked grin, trying to alleviate your mood.

"I know you will, but what if it's a more serious injury? What if you couldn't use your arm for a month or two--what if you lost your arm?" you asked, furrowing your brow in stress and pouting as well.

Toji sighed, giving you an apologetic smile. "You're right. Plus, driving's a good skill that could come in handy someday. I know we've got great transit in Tokyo, but if we were to live somewhere smaller with less public transit, what'd we do if we couldn't drive?"

"As if I'd live anywhere with less shopping," you scoffed, making him chuckle.

"I'm just saying: we can't just rely on public transit alone."

You took a deep breath, calming yourself down and getting rid of the attitude. "You're right, you're right, I just got a little tense. Driving is a necessary skill which could come in handy one day."

"Damn straight, doll," he agreed with a chuckle. "Right now, let's just take that Uber and get somethin' to eat, 'kay? We'll figure out all that driving shit later."

"Alright, doll, keep your eyes on the road and not on your man's arms," he instructed you, making you snap out of the trance that his arms had unintentionally put you in.

"Maybe don't have arms worth drooling over," you sassed, making him chuckle.

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to give my girl somethin' sturdy to hold onto when she wants it," he retorted, putting his hands up in defense, still keeping that smirk on his face. "Anyway, just look straight ahead, and nothing should get in the- shit, watch out!"

Out of nowhere, a red car sped through the street, rounding the corner very sharply and almost hitting your car as it did so. You immediately hit the brakes, startled beyond all belief with the hair on your arms standing up. "Sorry, sorry," you mumbled. "I didn't see that car."

"I know you didn't. Don't worry 's not your fault; it's their fault, if anything. Fuckin' assholes don't know how to control their fuckin' cars," he spat, rubbing your shoulder as the red car sped off. "But, that's why it's important to keep your eyes on the road: you can keep watch and make sure that some shitty ass driver doesn't hit you and get you into an accident."

You nodded, keeping that fact in mind. "Alright: keep my eyes on the road." You took a deep breath, making sure that there weren't any out-of-control drivers headed your way.

"So cute when you focus," he muttered under his breath. He watched as you changed lanes, rounded corners smoothly, and stopped perfectly at the red lights. "Good job, good job!" he praised enthusiastically, clapping just to add effect. "You're already doing such an amazing job!"

You smiled and looked away bashfully, still keeping your focus on the road. "Thank you, thank you," you giggled, accepting any and all praise.

"No; thank you for being a great student and not giving me a fucking heart attack," he chuckled, relaxing into his seat. "Alright, now: drive a few more blocks, and then we can go home and watch whatever chick flick you wanna watch. Maybe afterwards, I can feed you some dessert?"

"Yeah, that sounds-" you stopped talking when you realized what you meant by dessert. "Toji, you pervert!"

He laughed loudly at your reaction and shook his head.

"As if you could resist my desserts; your sweet tooth's just too damn strong for your own good."

Yαɱι Sυƙҽԋιɾσ (modern AU)

╰┈➤ If there was one thing that got Yami Sukehiro's dick hard, it was a strong woman--a woman who didn't take shit from anybody; didn't need to rely on others or be babied; and who most certainly wasn't incapable of handling themselves. Everyone should be able to handle themselves when they're adults because it was what made one an adult!

One of the things that he believed made an adult an adult was getting around on their own, whether it be by car, metro, or even by helicopter (if you had the budget). Your boyfriend and you had different modes of transportation: you chose to take the metro, and Yami liked to drive his car, even if he had terrible road rage and hated traffic (Tokyo's traffic could be terrible on certain days).

"Come on! Hurry your asses up already!!" Yami barked from the driver's seat, honking the horn as loudly as he could. "Shut the hell up, you bastard!!" he barked again when the person behind him honked the horn. Naturally, his first reaction was to honk back ten times harder. "Wish I could teleport or somethin'..."

Regardless of your preferred mode of transportation, he just wanted you to get where you were going efficiently.

One day, after he'd refused forgotten to pay one too many parking tickets, he sadly had his license revoked. He believed that losing your license over tickets was a myth and that you could only lose it over DUIs, but when the police took that little piece of paper away from him, he now knew that it wasn't a myth.

"Hey, honey," his deep and raspy voice said into your ear one morning, "do you think you could give me a ride to work today?" Just to convince you further, he wrapped his big, muscular arms around you and pulled you close to him.

"What do you need a ride for?"

"Um, well... got my license revoked," he mumbled into your ear.

"Hm?"

"I said I got my license revoked," he said louder this time, his arms instinctively tightening around you. He buried his face into your shoulder and avoided your gaze, not wanting to see the judgment on it.

"Suke, why did you get your license revoked?" you asked him, brows furrowing together out of confusion. You turned around in his embrace and grabbed his cheeks, making him look at you.

"I forgot to pay a parking ticket," he mumbled, sighing deeply. His charcoal eyes met yours, and he looked like a kicked puppy.

"Baby, you know I could've helped you with that."

"No," he refuted firmly, shaking his head in response to your offer. "I don't want my girl doing anything I can do with my own two hands; I wouldn't be a man if I let that happen."

You gave him an remorseful smile and now it was your turn to sigh. "You and your chivalry..."

He let out the tiniest whine and hid his face in your hair. "Shut up," he mumbled, "can you just gimme a ride? Please? I'll give you gas money if you need it."

"I can get you a suica if you need one," you offered, shoulders shrugging in his arms.

"Ugh, not the metro--I don't wanna take the metro. Too many things can happen and it'll fuck my timing up if I do." By timing he meant the amount of time he can cuddle with you on the couch before going off to work. "And there's too many people--I just don't like taking it. Can't you take the car instead? Just this once? I know you hate traffic and all, but it'll just be until I get my license back."

All of a sudden, you went quiet, looking off to the side (quite embarrassedly so).

"What're the tight lips for, baby?" he asked, cocking his head to the side out of his obliviousness. "Hey, you know I don't like it when you go silent on me."

"Suke, I can't... I can't drive."

"What do you mean you can't drive? Didn't you get your license when you turned 18?"

"No, I didn't!" you exclaimed, making his brow furrow further. Once he realized that you were serious and not joking around with him, his confused expression turned into a remorseful frown.

"Well, you're an adult! You have to know how to drive!"

"Shut up already!!" you snapped back in response, embarrassed from that same fact that he brought up. He sighed and released you, letting you walk away and cool down for a sec.

"Honey..." he looked down at the floor and then up at you again, his frown still there. "I'm sorry for making you so upset, I just- I've just never met an adult who doesn't know how to drive, so I didn't know how to react."

"That's 'cus you're a blue collar worker who needs to know how to operate a car," you sassed, making him "tch."

"Well, I guess you're right," he conceded with a chuckle. His eyes followed you and, once he saw that you were cooled down, he came closer to you. "C'mere, hon," he coaxed with his arms outstretched, beckoning you to come closer and give him a hug. You didn't say anything and did as he wanted, letting him encircle his arms around you. "I'm sorry for getting you riled up, I really am. I've been trying to control my temper lately, and I slipped up."

"Hell yeah, you did," you mumbled into his thick chest, his pecs making your words come out muffled. "Control that shit if you want cuddles."

He chuckled and shook his head. "For your cuddles, I'll do anything."

"Could you teach me how to drive?" You asked softly, looking up at Yami and offering him the best puppy eyes you could possibly muster up. "I don't wanna be embarrassed the next time someone asks me for a ride."

"Baby, you already gave me enough reason with those puppy eyes," he reassured you, running his calloused fingers through your hair and smiling at you. "Alright, since you asked so nicely, I'll teach you how to drive a car. But fair warning: my road rage isn't to be messed with."

"I know, I know--I've seen said road rage firsthand many times."

He just laughed and rested his chin atop your head again. "So, how many minutes do we have for cuddles before I have to take the metro?"

"Enough to satisfy your little heart."

"Perfect," he sighed, already leading you to the couch for said cuddles.

Later, he'd face-time you for a half hour while angrily trying to figure out how the stupid train lines work, making several people look at him out of fear. "What're you looking at, you little punk?! I'll kick your ass!" he shouted at a rather short man who'd accidentally looked at him the wrong way.

"Yami Sukehiro, don't beat up the other riders!" you scolded him over the phone.

"Hey, eyes on the road at all times!" he barked a little too loudly, making you flinch while keeping your hands steadily on the steering wheel. "And don't you dare take your hands off the steering wheel!" he also said rather loudly.

"I know, I know! Stop shouting and just let me drive!" you shouted back, making his blood vessel pop in his forehead.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to calm down. "Sorry, sorry, honey; I'm just a little stressed whenever I'm on the road."

"A little?" you asked, almost in disbelief that he could be stressed out "just a little" bit.

"Well, don't give me that look! Driving's dangerous and you can get hurt if you're not focused."

"And who said I wasn't focused?"

"You were staring at my biceps earlier when we were supposed to change lanes." You didn't say anything back, instead looking at the road again with a deep blush on your face. You zeroed in on the road this time, bringing a tiny smile to his face. "I hope you know it doesn't mean anything if I get mad at you; unless we get into an accident, of course. I just care a lot about you, and I don't want some shitty driver getting my honey into a car accident."

"Right, because who would give your big ass all the cuddles you want later?" you asked with a snicker.

"Hey! The correct term is beefy," he retorted, flexing his rather thick arm just to prove a point. You shook your head and managed to keep your eyes on the road, making his smile widen. "Speaking of cuddles, would it be too much to ask if we could cuddle later tonight? Been missing your touch..."

"We cuddled right before this, Suke."

"It's not enough. Did y'know one of my three favorite things is cuddling? This big man right here needs some love and affection from time to time."

"I thought your three favorite things were gambling, beer and sleeping?" You asked, making him pout in a way too cute way. He crossed his arms over his chest and instead turned his eyes back to the road along with you.

"FYI: I quit gambling for you..."

"So, what's this new third favorite thing?" Your question made him chuckle, and he looked at you again.

"You, of course. Now, drive us home so that I can get those cuddles in."

YAMI BRAINROT IS TOO REAL I NEED TO MARRY HIM move over Charlotte

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/21/2024

[germanpostwarmodern]

During the 1960s numerous subsaharan African countries gained independence from their colonial rule, a process that put an end to a grim period of history during which European rulers conquered and subjugated African peoples and tribes. But the African independence movement not only shook off the shackles of foreign rule but also initiated a boom in modern architecture that has gone largely unnoticed outside of Africa: as a sign of modernization and ambition conference centers, administrative buildings, universities, high rises and luxury hotels were erected, predominantly as concrete constructions and under the aegis of European architects. The employment of the latter obviously came at the expense of local building traditions and techniques but at least local climate conditions were accounted for, a concession that resulted in expressive details and unusual forms.

Over time these buildings have nonetheless fallen into disrepair and often lost their initial purpose. Against this background and in view of their obscurity beyond Africa the architect Manuel Herz at the ETH Zurich initiated a research project focused on Ghana, Senegal, Cote d’Ivoire, Kenya and Zambia. The result is the monumental compendium „African Modernism: The Architecture of Independence“, originally published in 2015 by Park Books and presented here in its second edition from 2022. On 640 pages the volume documents a stunning selection of buildings, cities and architects that are expertly captured by photographers Iwan Baan and Alexia Webster. In an unconventional move they go beyond the purely architectural documentation and also take into account the everyday life and hence demonstrate the lively goings-on in and around the buildings.

In light of these qualities the present volume is a highly recommended opportunity to get familiar with African post-independence architecture and hopefully only the starting point for increased interest and research into the architecture of the continent.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Birthday! Free space if this gets in on time, but either way birthday wishes and thank you so much for all your writings. They're really good and such a bright spot in my day.

Carlton is having a good day up until he sees what’s clearly a civilian’s motorcycle parked in one of the reserved spots. If the state of disrepair didn’t make it obvious, the ACAB bumper sticker stuck on the back certainly did. Oh, he was going to give this asshole the biggest fine he could, and get his bike towed for good measure! The good people of the SBPD are working hard everyday to keep the streets safe and this guy wants to make a mockery of that right in front of them? What a sick bastard.

He stalks inside, face set into a scowl. “McNab!” he shouts, startling the officer who turns from whoever he’d been talking to. “Who the hell’s bike is that out front?”

He looks at him, wide eyed, but then a kid in a leather jacket is stepping out from behind him and clapping him on the shoulder. He’s got on faded jeans, brown boots, and a dark blue henley. He’s a couple days off from a decent shave and Carlton’s not at all surprised when he says, “It’s mine. Sweet ride, right?”

“You can’t park there,” he snaps. “I’m writing you a ticket – McNab, write him a ticket! Now!”

“Uh,” McNab looks between them uncertainly. “But he, you know, um. He can park there, Detective.”

Carlton snarls, “Why the hell do you think that?”

“It’s okay, Buzz,” the kid says, stepping forward and offering his hand to Carlton with a smirk that has him itching for his cuffs. “I’m Shawn Spencer.”

“I don’t care who you are,” he says. “Only police personnel can park in that area.”

Spencer’s grin gets a little wider. 

McNab is honest to god wringing his hands. “Um, Detective, he is. Police personnel, I mean. He’s the new head of Internal Affairs.”

Carlton stares. This has to be some sort of practical joke. “Are you even old enough to have gone through the academy?”

“My youthful appearance is due to my intense moisturizing routine, a zest for life, and my good humor,” he says. “Laughter really is the best medicine.”

“You’re out of dress code,” he says, because most of him is still refusing to believe that this is happening.

“I’ll write myself up for it later,” Spencer says, which is ridiculous, because that’s not an IA issue, it’s an HR one. Which as the head of Internal Affairs, he should know.

He opens his mouth, but whatever he was going to say is interrupted by Chief Vick swooping in, several files held in her hand. “Gentleman. Detective Spencer, my office, now.”

Spencer winks at them. “Buzz. Lassie.”

What the hell did Spencer just call him? Before he’s managed to choke back his outrage, Spencer’s in Chief Vick’s office and McNab is making a hasty retreat.

He stalks over to his desk and Lucinda glances up from her own desk at his approach. She’d left early this morning to go back to her place to shower and change and had been responsible for the good mood he’d been in up until he’d encountered Spencer and his stupid bike. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he says, then, “Did you meet the new internal affairs guy?”

“Shawn? Yeah, he seems nice,” she says, already looking back down at her paperwork.

Nice? Nice?

The day’s just begun and it’s already shot to hell.

[sandstone72]

I'm convinced that Finely from Indigo Park is at least in part inspired by the sea serpents from the Disney rides 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Submarine Voyage. I also hope this means Finely's area will have a bit of that submechanophobia/decayed underwater attraction type of vibe that I love so much

Like look at them, do you see what I'm seeing? Because this was my first thought when I saw Finley's design

Also, both of the rides the real-life sea serpents belonged to are now defunct adding further connections to Indigo Park, which is in disrepair and seems to have been for a while now. There also the fact that the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride was left to rot and decay for a while once the ride closed up, which again, I think is also the case with Finley's ride area, and Indigo Park as a whole.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Far atop the dusty downtown of Strangerville stood what felt like a different world. During the decades of the gold rush Eastern settlers had flooded the town and the settlements around it, displacing the people of the land even further as they dug into it for their own ends. The ones who succeeded ended up here, in Shady Acres, where they could look atop the empire they drilled into the ground.

Now, most of the houses sat abandoned, left to the disrepair of time and the harsh desert sands as the promise of ever greater riches took their owners further West to California and Oregon. There were little signs of life on the streets other than a lone truck making its way up the hillside, inhabited by two people who still weren’t quite comfortable being alone together anymore.

Gio directed Jo to pull to the edge of the cliff face, overlooking the town they had just driven from. She struggled to get the turn just right, but it was better than her other practice attempts, so he gave her a quiet smile of approval as she shifted the gear into park. Even from inside the metal truck they could hear the wind howling. It had been their constant companion on these near silent journeys up this road the past few weeks. 

He knew that the road further West was filled with places like this, miles and miles of winding curves and jaw dropping heights that would take a steady hand on the wheel. Antoine had taken one look inside the car and immediately refused to learn how to drive it. So burying whatever remaining fears and anger he had deep inside, Gio had gotten in the passenger seat with Jo and offered to teach her how to drive.

With every lesson, he knew that he was essentially giving her the tools she needed to leave him, the one thing he had been so afraid of that he was willing to lie and cheat to prevent it from happening. Now he felt like all he could do was sit by hope every inch he gave or silent acquiescence would serve to bind her closer to him rather than push her further away. Still in the back of his mind his fears kept nagging, so much so that as the day for her to leave came closer he couldn’t stay quiet anymore.

The wind kept howling, threatening to drown out his voice as he reached toward her. “Jo, mi raccomando…”

She braced herself for the same apology about his lie over the loan that she already had memorized. What more did he want her to say? She had stayed, hadn’t she? Stayed outwardly for Violette but really, quietly and inwardly, for all of them. Because she loved them all, but more than anything, because she loved him.

Only how was she supposed to tell him that? That she had fought back every instinct to leave so that she could stay with him, even if the price to pay to do so was that she would never trust him again. Because he had shown her that she had been wrong about him. He could hurt her, just as well as any other man she had ever known could. Except now that she had let him inside, now that she loved him, he could hurt her all the more. So she had to compensate somehow, to regain some sort of ground to stand on or she would be left weak to him doing it all over again.

“You don’t need to answer, okay?” Her head stayed turned just as he knew it would, and her hand went to the wheel as though the steady the car from the roar of the desert wind. It grew stronger as his voice grew more emotional, shaking the car and whipping across the top of the mesa.

“I can’t make you forgive me for any of what happened, but I’m sorry I didn’t support you and Antoine going on tour, or even really put you in the position where you could have chosen to do it for yourself and not to save us from some choice I made. I just…every time you walk out the door I’m afraid you won’t come home, that you’ll find someone or something else and I’ll never see you again.”

The sun was hitting directly in her eyes, mingling there with the stinging of tears that she tried her hardest to hold back. Only it was too bright, and she couldn’t possibly fight it, so one small tear after another rolled down her face while she stayed staring at it.

Whatever else he said after that was inconsequential as she let the sunbeams dry her unexpected tears; because he had already broken through her carefully constructed armor, made brittle by anger, restlessness, and love. But he couldn’t know that, or it would make everything she had done up to this point meaningless. The portion of the farm that was now hers, betraying Antoine, Zelda’s pained resolve, Violette’s angry confusion. She endured it all in some effort to regain control and hope for her own life; only it was so tenuous that she was convinced a few stray tears could undermine it all, so she made sure her face was completely dry before she turned to face him.

By the time she did so he had gone quiet and only a sliver of his profile could be seen. The rest of him was pretending to study the desert landscape, visibly struggling to adhere to his promise that he wouldn’t speak again until she answered him.

As it always did in moments like this, his vulnerability astounded her. He had meant every word he said, and he had spoken them without pause, trusting her to meet him halfway despite her track record of never having done so before. He had signed over a portion of his lease with a clenched fist only to climb into the passenger seat of his own truck, giving patient instructions with an anxious edge as she drove them further and further from town. Every choice he had made was in pursuit of some twisted idea of love, all the while she was guided by some nebulous idea of strength, the undeniable compulsion to never feel trapped again even if her own love had tried to temper it time and time again.

Jo reached over to touch his face and turn it toward her own. He gave no hesitation as he leaned into her touch, no questions and no judgement for the streaks on her face that must have still been visible from up so close. “Gio, look at me. I’m going to come home, okay?”

She left out that she wished this wasn’t home, some place she had no connection to or hope for, one filled with harsh desert winds barely keeping failed dreams afloat. A land of drought and struggle so incessant that it had almost worn down even her will. Some days it still felt like it was trying to accomplish what it nearly had when she was afloat in that bed, miserable and useless.

But shielded from it all inside the confines of his truck, with only his earnest expression and kind but well worn hands to anchor her down, suddenly it did feel like home. Or at least he did. So in a rare moment, she spoke without a single ounce of pretense or calculation, letting the need to keep herself in control float away on the howling wind. “I promise you, I’m always going to come home. No matter what.”

[morbidology]

Josh Maddux was said to be a free-spirited and thoughtful teenager with a love for music and a talent for writing. On May 8, 2008, he left his home in Woodland Park, Colorado, for a walk, something he did regularly to clear his mind and enjoy the outdoors. However, on this particular day, Josh never returned.

His family initially thought he might have decided to start a new life elsewhere, as he had often talked about wanting to travel and live independently after graduating from high school. However, as days turned into weeks and weeks into years, hope faded, and the mystery deepened.

Despite numerous searches and investigations, no clues emerged. Woodland Park, a small, tight-knit community, was left grappling with unanswered questions. Where had Josh gone? Was he a runaway, or had something more sinister occurred? The years passed with no resolution, leaving his family in limbo, unable to find closure.

Seven years after Josh’s disappearance, in August 2015, a local builder named Chuck Murphy was demolishing an old cabin he owned, just a mile from the Maddux family home. The cabin had been abandoned for years and was in a state of disrepair. As workers began dismantling the chimney, they made a gruesome discovery—a body, wedged inside the flue.

The remains were later identified as Josh Maddux through dental records. The news sent shockwaves through Woodland Park and reopened the case that had long gone cold. How had Josh ended up in the chimney of a cabin so close to home? And more importantly, why?

The discovery of Josh’s body in the chimney raised more questions than it answered. The initial autopsy revealed no signs of trauma, drug use, or foul play. The coroner suggested that Josh had likely climbed down the chimney and become trapped, eventually dying of hypothermia, dehydration or positional asphyxia. The official cause of death was listed as accidental, but the circumstances remained highly unusual.

One of the most puzzling aspects of the case was how Josh had entered the chimney. The cabin’s chimney was designed with a large, heavy steel rebar grate at the top, intended to keep out animals and debris. This grate was found intact when the body was discovered, leading to speculation that Josh could not have entered from the top. Moreover, the position of his body, with his knees above his head, suggested a difficult and unnatural descent.

Some speculated that Josh had been trying to enter the cabin through the chimney and became stuck, unable to climb back out. However, others found this explanation hard to believe, given Josh’s physical condition and the structure of the chimney. Additionally, there were no signs that he had made any attempt to escape, such as claw marks or damage to the interior of the flue.

A more sinister theory emerged, suggesting that Josh might have been placed in the chimney by someone else. This idea gained traction due to the mysterious nature of his disappearance and the strange circumstances surrounding the discovery of his body. However, without any evidence of foul play, this theory remains speculative.

[blueiscoool]

Rome’s 'Lost' Imperial Palace 'Domus Tiberiana' Reopens

Until recently a crumbling and off-limits ruin near the famous Colosseum, the Domus Tiberiana palace — built in the first century AD and beloved by Nero — hopes to once again take its place as one of the city’s top tourist attractions.

The ancient palace sits on Palatine Hill — the city’s oldest hill, overhanging Rome —from where imperial dynasties ruled for centuries. But over the years, the site fell into disrepair and in the 1970s, the Domus Tiberiana site was shut due to the structural instability of some of the ruins. The closure left behind what many Romans described as a “black hole” in the capital’s archaeological heart.

Now, after a six-year makeover, the palace has reopened its doors as a “diffuse museum,” with findings and frescoes scattered across the site to provide visitors with an insight into the palace’s ancient grandeur.

And it was grand. The Domus Tiberiana was Rome’s first imperial palace, built by the emperor Tiberius who combined and incorporated the pre-existing noble mansions built on the hill. Occupying over four hectares, the palace featured residences alongside large gardens, places of worship and rooms for the emperor’s Praetorian guard.

As the seat of Rome’s power and politics, Domus Tiberiana held a prime location, high above the Palatine and Roman Forums, offering its occupants a “balcony view of the city.” Over time, the Domus was embellished and enlarged by other emperors including Nero, who was crowned on its steps aged just 16, in 54 AD.

Alfonsina Russo, director of the Colosseum’s archaeological park (in which Domus Tiberiana falls) and lead archaeologist on the renovation, said that ancient antiquities, many exceptionally well-preserved, were unearthed during the project.

The artifacts — bright stuccos, frescoes, amphorae, potteries, looms, terracotta, and divinity statues related to the cults of Isis, Dionysius and Mithras — offer visitors a trip through time, said Russo.

“They make this place — formerly (inhabited) by aristocratic families, then Roman emperors — feel alive again,” she said. “There are seven exhibition rooms full of extraordinary finds, starting with those preceding the original construction of the palace when aristocrats lived in mansions before Tiberius subsumed them into the Domus.”

Among the newly-exposed and frescoes are some of the earliest paintings of lemons (considered an exotic fruit in Ancient Rome, as they hailed from the Far East) and a depiction of a gladiator, proving that the era’s gladiatoral games were appreciated by rich families, explained Russo.

The imperial palace remained in use until the 7th century, when it became the papal residence of John VII. In the mid-16th century, the aristocratic Farnese family — who were powerful local landowners — built the lavish Orti Farnesiani gardens on the site, adorning it with ornaments and sculptures of nymphs, satyrs and fauns.

“This monument speaks of history,” Russo added. “We have restored (Domus Tiberiana) to its past splendor, but more work lies ahead.”

Indeed, painstaking efforts have been made to blend old and new. A series of majestic, reddish-brown vaulted arches that greet visitors having been carefully reconstructed with the same materials as ancient Romans used in the past.

“What makes this revamped Domus unique is the architectural style,” said Russo. “We managed to use original materials to reinforce and strengthen the handmade 15-meter (50ft) tall front arches (which run alongside the palace’s) ancient paving.”

It has certainly caught the public’s attention. Since reopening at the end of September, Domus Tiberiana has attracted some 400,000 visitors, a “huge success,” said Russo, adding that she believes that this incarnation of the Domus Tiberiana offers visitors the most “evocative” visit in generations.

Archaeologist and scholar of ancient Rome Giorgio Franchetti saidN that, in the reopening of the Domus Tiberiana complex, Rome has “recovered a lost jewel.”

“The Palatine Hill has always been the stage of Rome’s power politics,” he said in an interview. “Tiberius likely chose this spot to build the palace as it was where his family residence stood. There aren’t many places like the Domus Tiberiana where you can really breathe the past.”

By Silvia Marchetti.

[vestaignis]

Большой ржавеющий дракон в заброшенном аквапарке Вьетнама.

A large rusting dragon in an abandoned water park in Vietnam.

Аквапарк The Ho Thuy Tien открылся в 2004 году на окраине города Хюэ, что в центральном Вьетнаме. На момент открытия он был ещё не достроен. Но из-за своей нерентабельности аквапарк был вскоре закрыт.

За какие-то 10 лет парк развлечений пришел в упадок. Полопавшаяся краска, гостевые домики остались без крыш, горки, затянутые лианами - и над все�� этим возвышается мрачная трехэтажная фигура дракона, который обвил куполообразное сооружение посреди озера. Раньше там были аквариумы, а сейчас - ржавчина, граффити и отвалившаяся краска. Бывший аквапарк нынче зарос травой и деревьями, и на его территории одно время водились крокодилы. Одно время проходила информация о том, что аквапарк хотели отреставрировать к 2013-2014 году, однако из этого так ничего и не вышло и обещания остались лишь обещаниями.

The Ho Thuy Tien water park opened in 2004 on the outskirts of the city of Hue, in central Vietnam. At the time of opening it was not yet completed. But due to its unprofitability, the water park was soon closed.

In just 10 years, the amusement park fell into disrepair. Peeled paint, guest houses left without roofs, slides covered with vines - and above all this rises the gloomy three-story figure of a dragon, which has entwined a domed structure in the middle of the lake. There used to be aquariums there, but now there is rust, graffiti and peeling paint. The former water park is now overgrown with grass and trees, and at one time there were crocodiles on its territory. At one time there was information that they wanted to restore the water park by 2013-2014, but nothing came of it and the promises remained just promises.

Источник: //novate.ru/blogs/150516/36375/,/dzen.ru/a/X95e_Irkhn2tJooO, /vietnews.ru/travel/zabroshennyj-akvapark-vo-vetname, http://www.top-vietnam.ru/khyue-khue/108-zabroshennyj-akvapark-vo-vetname-khue.html,ru.dimatourmuine.vn/заброшенный-аквапарк-в-хюэ/, /passenger.rocks/2019/places/zabroshenniy-akvapark-ho-thuy-tien/.

[physalian]

11 Underexplored settings of post-apocalyptic worlds

Inspired once again by my recent binge of abandoned explorations.

The greatest hits of the sprawling city scapes and farmland that feature in everything from post-alien invasions to zombie takeovers to just worlds gone by in a not-so-distant future tend to be:

Generic office buildings

Churches

Schools

Water parks

Suburbs

Famous monuments

Cruise ships

It’s come to my attention though just how many architectural abnormalities there are, in their own current post-apocalyptic states, that would absolutely befuddle archaeologists centuries from now trying to figure out their purposes.

So whether you want to go hard into “this new world has completely forgotten what came before it” or your very own and unique road trip through desolation, here’s some suggestions for cool and/or practical settings!

1. Disney/Iconic Theme Parks

2000 years from now after X disaster strikes, survivors completely removed from historical context stumble upon…. Disney World. They presume Mickey really was a giant mutant mouse, or a mouse-shaped deity worshiped by the local populace (and I mean… are they wrong?). People who might have never left the local area without planes and feasible transport, or knowledge that land across the ocean even exists, might be astounded by the buildings of Epcot’s World Showcase, or any of Disney’s themed resorts.

Water parks are done to death, but not enough emphasis is put onto how bizarre these places would look without context, even to a younger generation that has no idea what it used to be.

Orlando has a hotel with its own rainforest in a massive atrium, with ponds and boats and boardwalks inside. But, you know, I guess strolling through Chicago or New York City is cooler. It may be unfilmable, but it’s not unwritable.

2. The foundations of unfinished construction projects

The remains of an office building that never was, a veritable modern Stonehenge with how little would survive an apocalypse. Inexplicable areas of land with massive pits for unbuilt parking garages, or sprawling swimming pools and lazy rivers.

Or massive, skeletal towers that would have been the monument to a much larger estate that just lost funding. Buildings still surrounded by scaffolding, only half-complete with their windows.

3. Survivor’s encampment landmarked by a monument/hotel/theme park that was never built

In one of those abandoned videos, a company in China was trying to build a discount Disneyland and all that remains is an unfinished Cinderella Castle with steel shells of the gables… behind a modern shopping mall.

Any structure that would have been deeply out of place either in the country it’s built in, or the newer buildings that surround it, immediately looks more creative than just ‘generic strip mall’ or ‘generic high school’. And it’s also realistic, as projects like this fall through constantly, as a unique piece of your worldbuilding. Or, it did have its run as whatever the strange building was part of, and through bankruptcy and selling the land around it, it ends up being the only structure that remains.

4. Hotels that are made up as if the staff vanished instantaneously

Or, many, many Covid victims. Having your characters scrounge for resources through a hotel with beds still made, coffee cups on the breakfast tables, serving spoons and plates ready to go by the buffet. Halloween, Christmas, or Valentine’s decorations still on display.

The schedules for the final week of business still hanging in the offices, unopened mail, packages for guests still in the mail room, pallets of new soaps and supplies still in the delivery bay from the distribution center, linens still in the industrial dryers. I worked in a hotel scheduled for eventual demolition and the disrepair the interior fell into because, what’s the point of managing mold and bed bugs when it’s all getting gutted anyway, makes it super creepy knowing guests are completely clueless on the other side.

Places that have been completely ransacked and destroyed are creepy, sure, but places that are almost frozen in time despite the decay around them are both eerie, and rather dark. Cruise ships/confined spaces like ships tend to be used more for horror, but these, too, as if they’re frozen in time.

5. Cargo ships/shipping yards

An easy-ish one to film in. Looters breaking open shipping containers, or building entire communities and homes out of those containers either on land, or on the barges and ships. A community that can weigh anchor and move once resources and scavenging dries up, or another violent group moves in on the land.

Or, in the case of a viral apocalypse, a community relatively spared from the violence out on the open ocean.

6. IKEA/Furniture Warehouses and DC’s

Warehouses especially have few entries and fewer windows to secure, but as their contents (except the showroom floor) are in mint condition at the time of the world ending and probably stored in plastic and crates, they’d be relatively spared from the elements as a good base camp.

Furniture is also too heavy to loot in a panic and absconding with a brand new mattress probably wouldn’t be at the top of people’s minds as doomsday approaches.

Your little community each having their own lavish living spaces with whatever eclectic furniture they either liked or could now get their hands on for free would just be cool to read about.

7. Penthouse suites

Climbing those stairs would suck and depending on the build quality, the safety of the structure over time would degrade, but maybe your community has manual cranks for the elevators. There might be one way down, but there’s also only one way up, and you can see invaders and catastrophe coming for miles.

These places tend to be dripping in luxury your characters might otherwise have never experienced and they could either make a base there, or have a grand old time trashing the place up because the rich are dead and gone.

8. Historical forts

They lasted this long, why not a few centuries more? The fort that comes to mind is the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, Florida, right on the beach with a built-in defense wall and a huge courtyard for your community of plucky survivors.

Castles, too, though they’d likely be prime real estate for all manner of interested parties. Aging, famous forts are just never in these types of stories, unless it’s a picture of where the military used to be, now overrun or destroyed.

9. Ski resorts

Similar to the made-up hotels and theme parks, this one comes with presumably multiple buildings, potential use of the slopes and ski transports, isolation via elevation and remoteness from major cities, and the threat of bitter winters and blizzards.

Never been to one myself in winter, but remote locations for a post-apocalypse story tends to just be shorthand for “generic farm or small town,” which isn’t super immersive.

10. Luxury malls

Seen in The Last of US, it gives you a microcosm of so many different environments all slapped together and there’s no limit on what kinds of stores you could include, or all the kiosks, all the mini attractions like trampolines, kiddie parks, massage tables, and even VR flight simulators.

Maybe it has a theater tacked onto it, or a double-story book store, one of those rental spaces dedicated to fancy cars or candy stores. Great for the main setting or even just passing through, especially as they’re already a dying breed you can go ham with. ‘Luxury’ and designer items collecting dust right across from the discount store with everything for under &14.99 could strike a powerful message about social constructs.

11. Science museums

Sure you can make some poignant message about priceless artwork being left to rot, or. When I was a kid, I went to a science center with natural disaster simulators like house fires and tornadoes and a whole-ass IMAX theater where I saw Night at the Museum, the only movie I’ve ever seen in a proper IMAX dome.

There was a whole kids section with a ropes course, area for exploring the human body, a NASA-sponsored mock up space module, mock up grocery store, and little exhibits here and there about optical illusions and the physics behind laying on a bed of nails and how it doesn’t kill you. It’s just something unique and fun that your characters can interact with and gives them plenty to play off and give little anecdotes to make them feel more human.

—

Point is, your post-apocalypse doesn’t have to be limited to the usual suspects. We’ve all seen the strip malls and Walmarts and suburban homes and farms. There is no special effects budget or filming restraint in a book and I’d love to read more stories set in unique and descriptive places, or just fresh takes on your standard survival camp that isn’t just “build a wall around a section of neighborhood”.

It’s the apocalypse. All real estate becomes free real estate.

[lilimoon-draws]

AU where several hundred years have passed since the defeat of The Calamity, and Queen Mipha decides to visit Sanidin Park.

Following their triumph, the king of Hyrule had statues erected at this site to honor all the Champions, immortalizing them as stone protectors forever watching over the land.

Once a bustling hub where people from across the kingdom would gather to pay homage and express gratitude to the heroes who saved the world, the park now sits in neglect and disrepair.

Mipha's companions, including her late husband Link, have long faded from the collective memory.

Yet, Mipha refuses to forget. Whenever she can spare a moment from her royal duties, accompanied by a pair of her guards, she makes the pilgrimage.

In the heart of the park, the statues of the Champions stand, each depicted heroically wielding their weapon in a mid-battle pose. It never fails to amuse Mipha that she was immortalized at such a diminutive stature. If they had all lived as long as she, she would tower over them all, perhaps even Daruk.

She lovingly clears away the dust and natural debris from each statue, reminiscing fondly about her time with her fellow Champions, Princess Zelda, and, of course, Link. She lingers a little longer at Link's statue.

Once she's satisfied with her work, she places flowers at the feet of her departed friends, a bouquet for each. Then, she settles onto one of the benches, content to simply soak in the peaceful view—the peace they all fought so valiantly to preserve.