#there was a store in town that had a decent amount of anime

[justalittlebluetiefling]

What are some of your favorite anime (outside of Bleach and DBZ)? Were there any that were formative for you growing up that you might attribute to your personal preferences in storytelling?

Hmm this is a really good question! And one that's a little hard to answer, only because I fell out of anime for such a long time that I have vague memories of why I love the anime series that I own, but not a lot of specifics.

I was talking to my partner about it and I did realize that a common theme in a lot of them is dark sci-fi/fantasy, which is something I still tend to prefer in a story. Or it's something that will shoot something up to the top of my list. Things like Fullmetal Alchemist and Elfen Lied. RahXephon was actually very big for me for a while, because music and "alien" invasion and giant mech fights. I've watched RahXephon so so so many times, but it's been years and I should probably do it again. It is possibly still my favorite. But like, looking at the other sets I own, I think dark and/or based in our actual world but something Fucked Up happened tend to be my favorite types of stories.

Two other anime that were really big for me growing up were Sailor Moon and Fushigi Yugi for different reasons. When I was very young and it was still on "cable" TV, I used to record episodes of Sailor Moon while I was at school and watch them when I would get home. I've still never actually watched the series all the way through. Maybe that should be my next attempt. And I loved Fushigi Yugi before I ever saw it, because it was still very hard to access (less common) anime when I was younger and the only thing I had of it were printouts and synopses and character info from various websites. But one day, I saved up enough money and got my mom to buy me the series on ebay and I watched it like three times in a row before I switched to something else because I was so excited to finally have it.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Black Metal and Bourbon (II)

AU MASTERLIST || PART III

PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Bartender!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, smut, NSFW, sex & intimacy, praise kink, brief thoughts of exhibitionism, p-in-v, fingering, hand job, some sub/dom dynamics, sub!Simon for a bit, soft!Simon, property damage, bike crashes (wear helmets everyone), violence, past toxic relationship, sabotage, attempted murder, protective!Simon, etc. (18+ mini-series)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your fingers tighten around Simon’s waist, the helmet you’d been given pressed into his shoulder as the both of you slice through wind—an engine roaring below you from the Honda Rebel 500. The fit was a tight one, Simon not having a proper second seat beside the passenger kit he’d been quick to install not a few hours before when you’d hesitantly asked for a ride into a neighboring town. Your body was directly above the back tire, and Simon had been firm in his words when he’d been adjusting the back suspension in the bustling shop.

“You’re not lettin’ go until we get there, copy? I feel your grip loosen, I’m pulling over.”

You had begrudgingly agreed, needing the high-quality art supplies a twenty-minute drive away. The stores here didn’t have what you needed, and, not owning a car as this town was entirely walkable if need be, this was your only option. 

Once you’d gotten on that bike though, Simon hadn’t needed to reiterate himself about holding on—you did that all on your own. Yet, that wasn’t to say you weren’t enjoying this.

Lips peeled back into a smile, your eyes stare out across the unfolding hills and mountains in the distance; fields of verdant grasses and trees. The vibrations of the Rebel left your head jittering, but this view was the clearest you’d ever seen. 

Chuckling, the driver under your rib-cranking hold blinked at the nearly missed sound, only able to tell from the movement of your chest at his spine. Simon’s sunglasses glinted over the thin sliver of flesh that would otherwise be the only piece of his face visible, and his fingers twitched as he stared ahead at the open road. The man had given you his leather jacket, taking a spare of black coloring like an all-dark cat, his boots and pants matching the theme that carries over. 

You shout above the whipping of the airways. 

“This is amazing!” Simon puffs a laugh at that, though his heart patters ever faster like a dog at the turn of a key. He doesn’t answer, even if his lips itch into a smirk to tell you he’s appreciating the spinal re-adjustment you’re giving him. 

Your laugh echoes out through the scenery, and your heart has never been more full. 

It had been a decent amount of time since Simon and the others had come into town—three weeks since you’d been hired on your off days to go and paint the mechanic’s shop. A base coat had already been applied, then the secondary and the final with the help of a very animated Soap saying that no one could get to the tops of the walls better. Gaz had seen him hit himself with the soggy paint roller not five minutes later after trying to flip it, and that had been the end of the interference on your work.

All that was left was to start the mural.

There hadn’t been a peep from Graham or his goons—they’d even left you alone on your walks back home. As much as you wanted to be elated about it, there was a brief stint of paranoia in the days that had followed the party. Graham Whitaker was a coward, but he didn’t…let things go. 

But holding onto Simon Riley as he pulled into the nearby town made that sharpness at the back of your mind flee in an instant. The mountains and fields dissipate to tiny houses and long stretches of connected businesses—sun-washed bricks surround you as Simon shifts the tires to dodge potholes. 

His head moves slightly to the side, and you hear the call through your borrowed helmet. 

“Where am I headed?”

“East side!” You rest the bottom of the helmet on his shoulder, seeing a sliver of his October browns through his sunglasses as he rips his eyes back to the road. “Look for the rose bushes!” 

“Makin’ me go deaf,” Simon mutters to himself, but he does as you instruct. Parking in the street outside of the art shop, he moves out the kickstand with one foot—the other resting on the ground so you don’t tip. He gives you a look over his shoulder to get off first as the engine cuts and the jungle of keys comes to silence inside of his pocket.

Giggling, you let go of his hard waist and step out to the concrete of the sidewalk, turning around and fixing the strap of your carry bag with a hidden grin. 

“I think I just found a new form of transportation.”

“Then you can forget about it,” Simon smirks, taking off his sunglasses and sticking them to the neck of his compression shirt. “Helmet, Sunshine.” He reminds, looking around for a moment. 

You slap your hands to the side of the item around your head as you continue to giggle like a child, elated and feeling the throws of wanderlust—you’d never felt so alive than when watching the world pass by at your sides. How quickly you can form a routine of boring days, one after the other. You felt…light again. 

A finger grabs at the visor, flicking it up as your crinkled eyes come into view for the gruff man and his raised brow. 

“You drunk?” Simon stares, tilting his head as he looms closer, studying you up and down. 

“No, Brown-Eyes,” you roll your eyes teasingly, waving his hand away as you unclip and pop the helmet off before it’s leveled back to him. He takes it and holds it loosely in one grip, blinking at you slowly. “I’m excited. Can I not be excited, then, huh? Not happy seeing me enjoy your company?” 

“Let's get this over with, yeah?” Simon shakes his head but his amusement is heard, slipping past as you eagerly follow after, expression airy. 

You hum, leaning into him and smirking. 

“C’mon Simon, you’re completely taken with me—I can see it.” There was no question that the two of you had become close. There was rarely a night when he didn’t come to visit you at the bar; had even taken up walking you back home too, though there was little need to. Simon had said it was because he had nothing else to do, but you doubted it. Since the shop had opened, there had been no shortage of work.

The man grunts as he opens the door for you with a shoulder, sending you a blank eye. “Taken aback.”

“Fucking jerk,” you grin at him as you slip inside, face loose with banter. Simon chuckles lowly and follows, standing behind you as his boots clop to polished tile floors. 

This place was exactly how you remembered it—holding an old feel with the beams in the ceiling and the raw brick walls. There are tables with paints and brushes, all neat and orderly with unique looks and designs to them, even the wall has shelves of old wood holding hidden nicknacks and unique wonders. 

Simon gazes around with a glint of interest in his eye, understanding now that the painting was better off in your hands. He has to wonder how you managed to find a place like this. 

“Over here,” you say. Walking to the very back, your hands are already reaching for the quality brushes you’d need for the mural. Simon’s hands slip into his pockets, stance casual in a way he’d thought he’d lost a long time ago. 

It was no secret that Simon trusted very few people. It wasn’t just because of his past military experience, it was his life in general—each turn led to something that could go wrong like a gun in the hands of a criminal. But you had been nearly sly in the way you’d grown on him. 

The quick-witted comments, the way you spoke and carried yourself; your light and unapologetic attitude. He was ashamed to admit how many times he’d stared at the bar from his shop’s garage—under the body of some car with grease up to his elbows, legs dangling as his back was on top of the creeper. Brown eyes that can pinpoint your form before his mind blanks and sweat pools at his collarbone. 

It was something that Simon was afraid to name.

“Bloody expensive,” the man mutters in the present, fingers pushing at the price tag of some paints nearby. “You sure you need this shit?” 

“It’s not shit, Riley,” you scoff, grabbing two large brushes and three smaller ones from wall buckets, pointing one at him. “But I have to agree on the expensive part. You should see how much I would spend when I was really into art. You’d puke your blackened guts up.”

Simon hums, giving you his attention as you peer at a table of rich paints in smaller cans a few feet away.

“Why’d you stop?” He asks, the soft tinkling of piano music coming from somewhere in the back. 

You pause, your back turned to him as you look at the label of a small aluminum container of enamel paint for vehicle detailing. Licking your lips, you clear your throat and ease out a nonchalant, “Graham,” and end the conversation there with less blood spilled. 

Your Ex had almost sucked all of the individuality from you—you’d barely made it out as you are. 

Simon’s eyes darken, clenching his jaw after a moment as looks away. It's only when you put back down the enamel paint can that he speaks again. 

“He wasn’t worth your time,” he eases out, giving firm advice like orders. As if he wants you to believe what he’s saying to the fullest degree. “You know that?”

You snort, turning back around. “Yeah, I know it. Why do you think I threw the guy out? He ran through women like a damn kid with a stack of new playing cards.” 

Simon blinks from over his mask as you walk to the counter, putting down your brushes and adding in a few containers of nice pigment. As your fingers ding the bell up front, your free hand digs for your wallet. 

Before you can pull out the wads of cash that you’d need to pay, smelling of booze and all, a credit card hits the table. You stare at it in silence for a moment. 

“Simon?”

“You’re putting it on my wall,” he rolls his shoulders to dispel tension from the previous conversion as the employee comes out from the back. “M’not going to make you pay for the tools to get the job done. Not a fuckin’ heartless bastard.” 

“Heartless? No,” you tease, though your face burns and crashes with a fiery inferno of adoration. Inside of you, your stomach flips and your throat tightens. Oh, it was coming on bad, wasn't it? “A bastard…?”

“Shut it,” Simon glares from the corner of his eye as you raise your hands innocently. 

“Alright, alright. A very handsome and generous bastard, better?” You hear a hum, a huff of breath. 

“Getting there.” 

The ride back was much the same, but it still filled you with awe. Your hands were looser now, even with the added weight from your filled bag, but that didn’t mean you weren’t aware of Simon’s presence. Once more your helmeted head was set at his shoulder blade, resting as your lungs pulled in fresh air even if it was a bit heated from the barrier. Simon had pushed the thing back onto your head the minute your leg was about to straddle the bike, firmly grabbing your chin and tilting your face forward as he shoved it on.

“Safety first, Sweetheart.” You had sworn you nearly went weak-kneed at that. 

But the sturdy presence before you made a very comfortable headrest even if the longer ride was beginning to make your legs ache and give you a migraine from the noise. 

Your hand was flat to the man’s covered flesh, the oversized jacket around your frame, and in that moment you discovered that you were almost entirely submerged in Simon Riley until it became impossible to remember who you’d been before him. You were drowned in his scent—his presence an ever-present weight of purpose and prospect. 

Blinking over the view and feeling Simon’s pulse under your fingertips, you realize with a start that Graham had never made your stomach fill with butterflies over a simple word; never made you pause or have to re-think your thoughts because you’d entirely lost them when he entered a room. 

With so much going on, and at the same time so little happening…what exactly were you supposed to make of it? There was no question you liked Simon—there was no question he liked you, either. It was obvious by the looks Price would give the two of you when you came by with lunch for them all; free drinks. 

How the both of you would sit and talk, exchanging stories while Simon showed you the adjustments he had made to his bike. The issue was that you and Brown-Eyes were stubborn. Pigheaded.

Emotionally constipated.

Your eyes drag along the view, but they always shift back to the body that’s stuck in your grip; how his heat moved through his clothes, warming your wind-beaten hands. You’re right there at his back, hanging off him and you feel…good.

There just had to be something to make one of you snap.

Entering the garage, Simon once more parks his bike and lets you get off first, and you unclip your helmet and slip the object from your head with a puff of air. 

“Thank you, Simon,” you breathe, watching him stand. “Drinks on me tonight, okay?” 

“No need for that,” his brows pull in, confused. “If I didn’t want to, I would have told you.” 

Your hands pass the helmet, which he takes as your fingers brush one another's lightly. You repress a sharp inhale, scoffing playfully at him as your eyes soften.

“I’m not going to leave without saying thank you and you taking it, Brown-Eyes.” 

“Well, then I just took it, Sunshine.” Simon motions his head outside. “Now get going ‘fore I come to my senses.” 

Laughing, you shrug and take your leave, all of your items safe in your bag for a time when you could use them next. 

“I’m already gone,” you breathe, and a soft brown gaze sticks to your form as you cross the street and slip inside to clock in. 

A truck parked down the street has its window glinting in the sunlight. It seems to agree.

—

Simon tipped back the last of his bourbon and sighed, putting it down on the bar top as you polished glasses. 

“Anything happen today?” He asks you as you put the sparking material to the light, tipping it to try and find smudges before it passes your acute inspection. 

“Nothing interesting,” you respond, humming. “Had to kick a few guys out, but it was nothing big.” 

Simon’s interest makes his eyes shift to you like a wave, head tilting to stare as the warm light cascades over your figure. He waits for you to continue, but when you don’t, he prods with a slightly concerned undertone.

“Why?” Your lips twitch as you turn to look at him, exasperated. 

“Put a cork in it, Big Guy, it was just a few who had too much to drink—I cut them off and sent ‘em home.”

Simon grunts, “That’s a girl.” 

You ignore the way your heart jumps to your throat and the tingling of your arms. “Anything with you?” Your voice is higher than it should be. “Beat off any bartenders from your property?”

“Can only think ‘o one,” he speaks slowly, his voice wafting about as the both of you were the only people here. Your chuckle makes his heart constrict in on itself.

“Oh,” you tease, face pulling in with mock confusion. Your body moves closer as it leans into the wood. Simon’s lips twitch from where they're visible, the fabric of his balaclava pulled over his nose. “Tell me about her.”

“Yeah?” He speaks in a low murmur, eyes half-lidded in that dead-and-buried kind of way—only he could pull that off and still look so handsome. You had said once that he felt like danger, and you suppose that had to be true. Simon Riley was danger, and you had taken those snake fangs and put them directly in between the cross-hairs of your neck and your pulse, waiting, wanting for that fatal strike. 

You had bet that the sting of those fangs might just be the best pain you’d ever felt.

Simon Riley was unabashed freedom.

 “She likes to think that she’s the bloody boss o’ me,” Simon grunts, scars, and tattoos on full display; there’s blackened grease on his fingers, under his nails. You listen with bated breath. “Comes ‘round all the time now, hangs like she’s under a noose. I can’t figure her out. Not for the fuckin’ life of me.”

Simon doesn't know what he’s saying, but he can’t quite help himself when you’re looking at him like that. Your eyes going wider, your usually snappy and quick tongue silent as you take his words in like law. It was addictive to see you gobsmacked—the man has to stop himself from thanking Graham Whitaker for being such a fucking fool even if the thought of ever being near that man again made him want to clench his fists.

“And?” You push, trying to force your mouth into a playful smirk, but anyone can see it for what it is. Your faked emotion falls short, leaving behind only that which Simon can claim to be the sole owner of. 

Astonishment. Admiration down to its base form—a woman gazing at something that should not be, and yet is here among the ashes and ruins of broken earth and open roads. A sliver of sky between the rain clouds.

“And?” Simon mirrors, that numb mock. 

The both of you are closer now, puffs of air hitting the other. Everything in this bar became a backdrop, shifting colors and images like some dream. The dart in the ceiling was nothing to you—the tables that needed to be buffed, the bottles restocked; even the trash that you usually took out at this time was only a shape in the corner of your vision. It all blurred around him, and while you spoke again, Simon understood that he had left the city for something new; something that he could revel in and worship like he had his guns and his duty. 

Your sentence is whispered. 

“Why did you come here?” To this town? There was no answer for that. It was picked at random—even Price knew that. It was nothing special, not even to the bugs. But here…

Simon parts his lips and utters on the lightning of the air particles, all rushing past as if he was still on his motorcycle with you—your hands around his waist and your nails digging into his flesh.

“For a bartender that keeps making my damn head spin.” 

For a long minute, there’s nothing that happens. The AC whirs and the lights outside flicker over the stretch of the empty street. In your chest, your heart hammers with the strength of the Titans. A mechanic, a veteran; a man with broken, October eyes. 

How could he be the one thing you were looking for? 

Your eyes stay locked, those shredded flecks of color holding secrets that you want to know instantly—you want to learn his tattoos and the way he thinks, know Simon's dreams and aspirations. To you, that was better than any physical destination or journey because it was one in and of itself. 

Simon was an enigma. 

“Keep talking,” you mutter, lips so close now that they brush the man’s own. He doesn’t blink as he watches you, his lungs unsteady in his chest as he takes down a deep breath. 

“Why’s that, Sunshine?” His voice is raspy, and his accent makes you shiver. 

Simon’s tongue comes out to lick at the corner of his mouth, sneaking back in as your gaze flickers down to watch pupils blown. “Because I like it when you speak to me like that,” you have to admit, a whine trapped in your throat that you won’t let out.

There’s a low chuckle that makes your legs close together, moving like honey through your veins. 

“Can do more than talk.”

This is a game—a test—can either of you go this far? Is it more than lust, is it more than some strange attraction between two people who don’t belong here? A relationship of need rather than want?

You don’t care enough to test it, because if there’s one thing that this town taught you, it's that you don’t need to worry about the future so long as there’s something promising right in front of you. 

And Simon Riley was as promising of a man as you had ever met.

Your lips meet his, and his hand is eager to snap to the back of your skull, pushing you into him as your eyes pull shut and the edge of the counter digs into your guts. Air is exhaled from your nose, mouth heavy, and skin hot as it digs and molds to the rough scrape of Simon’s stubble. His fingers pulse into your scalp, waves of something sawing you open as he stands quickly from his stool and pulls away only to push right back in. 

Your hands move into fists on the counter, stuck in this dance of wet lips and shaky legs. 

Simon groans into your mouth, shifting his head as a purr emanates from his chest and makes you respond with a silent gasp that he takes advantage of. A tongue slips to run over your own as the lights glint outside, pushing itself in before retreating just as swiftly before teeth nip at your swollen bottom lip. Your eyes snap open, locking with deep wells of brown that seem more endless than the depths of space. 

You both breathe heavily, the bar silent to the two souls that seep into one another. Not once do either of you look away from one another. 

The man seems hesitant, and before he speaks, the rasp in his voice is felt as he blinks. 

“These parts in me have been shuttin’ down, Sunshine.” Your brows slightly pinch in for a moment, confused at this turn in tone—cocky had gone to still-stone as if Simon had laid eyes on Medusa herself. 

But you know what he means. You’d seen it in his stature and how he spoke to others; you knew nothing much of his past beyond a handful of stories from his service and none of them had been pretty. And of his childhood, you knew nothing. 

You know it can’t have been good. 

Your head softly tilts, a small, delicate smile forming the words of some long-lost deity.

“I’m sure you have the tools to fix them, Simon.”

He blinks at you, fingers still stuck to your head. “Don’t know if I remember how to use ‘em.” 

Simon’s giving you a way out of this if you want to take it; you know that he thinks you should. 

“...Then you’ll just have to teach me, won’t you?” You whisper, stubborn as always. “I told you I was good at keeping secrets, right?” He hums, eyes the most open and soft you’d ever seen them as he melts—forehead connecting to yours as your smile grows wider, truer. “Then I’ll keep yours closest, Brown-Eyes.” 

You both kiss once more, more delicate as the man takes a deep breath of you. Your smirk pulls along his flesh like a brand as he holds in a quiver. 

“What’s a bartender without a bottle of Bourbon on her shelf?” He growls into you, and not wasting a moment rips his lips from yours and wipes at his face with the back of his arm. 

“Such a mouth,” he mutters, moving as you stand there to push open the half-door to let him get to you. You stand waiting, pulse wild and lips tingling. “Cameras?”

Your head shakes without you knowing it, and a finger is hooked under your chin, maneuvering it as he sees fit. Another grabs onto your hip, kneading it slowly as you melt into him. Your hands grasp into the back of his belt and his eyes spark—hips canting instinctually.

There’s a hard prod at your inner thigh. 

“Only one at the door.” You set your chin to his chest, gazing up. “Back room?”

“Won't have you on the floor,” Simon says bluntly, unphased. Your core pounds, stomach tightens as you have a sudden need to get rid of your pants and touch yourself as dampness pools through your underwear. 

“Such a gentleman,” you’re breathless, voice airy. “Guess I’ll have to be on top.” 

Simon’s breath gets caught as you slip past him, sauntering to the back door and pushing it open as you slip inside. You had already started fumbling with the zipped on your pants as the man pushed on the barrier just before it could close, coming in and letting it slam behind him as the click of a lock could be heard. 

With your shoes off, you can feel Simon’s eyes burning into you as your fingers send the zipper down your navel, the sound of the metal teeth being separated from one another a call to action. When your thumbs hook the top, ready to send the fabric down, you let the man watch before your eyes shift back up to lock together. 

Simon’s gaze was intense—unblinking and unmoving beyond the slam of his heart and the pulse of the erection in his pants, begging to be palmed as you stood only feet away. The man’s hands clenched, knuckles going white. 

While holding eye contact, you let the pants—and your panties—drop to the ground with a whoosh of fabric. Simon tenses, but doesn’t look away.

You smirk, taking a few steps forward.

“I’m surprised.” Your hand captures his waist, one moving to stroke along the prominent v-line that’s hidden by his shirt. Simon’s heavy breath meets your head as his blown pupils make his eyes look black entirely. He’s almost in a trance. “Usually I’d be having to snap my fingers.” 

“Better than that,” he grits out raggedly. You have to agree. 

Your mouth finds his neck as he leans back against the door, letting you do what you wish as his hands settle on your hips once more, rubbing up and down as your own eagerness drips from you. Simon clenches his jaw as you bite down, taking and sucking on the skin as he hisses when you give him hickeys, eyes fluttering. 

“‘Such a mouth’ you said,” you comment, hand falling lower to hear the jingle as you unclip his belt. He stares off as your hand rests and cups him, sharply inhaling when you rub your palm over the large tent. Simon fights the sway of his hips, but the widening of his legs is telling enough, pelvis knocking forward as you groan, a line of slick falling down your thigh. “I’d bet you’d like my mouth, Brown-Eyes, wouldn’t you?” Your joke and your teasing of his dick—your hickeys and your sly eyes—they all at once snap something inside of him. 

You find yourself manhandled with a squeak of shock and a jump in your gut as your legs dangle, moved back, and pressed into the very door where Simon had been moments before. Your feet settle as his figure descends.

“Your mouth, Sunshine?” Brown eyes glint, staring you down from where he taps your legs open to the air, kneeling with an open belt and pre-cum staining his pants. “Want to see what mine can do?”  

There’s no more than a dangerous smirk before his face slots itself into the clutch of your pussy. 

You gasp, hands going down to his covered hair as his nose slides along your clit, making lightning go up your spine as you push down on him, grinding as a long stripe is licked, tongue flattening out at the nerve before a loud groan makes Simon’s mouth vibrate as it attaches itself to you. 

Giving you your own medicine, teeth lightly bite, tongue flicking as your cunt clenches over nothing, fingers grasping guilty as your head knocks back with a loud whine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, toes curling as your hips move back and forth. 

Your body can feel his smirk, your juices leaking out to drip at his chin, falling down his throat as this beast of a man sucks and mewls around your clit like he’s possessed. Hands grasped your thighs, holding them open. Well, one anyway. 

Lost in the movements of his mouth, cursing and gasping as he keeps trying to build you up to the point of rapture with every hard flick and measured nip, there’s no way your dopamine-addled brain can comprehend the fingers at your cunt before they’re already inside and curling outward. 

You moan out his name pleadingly, the pace of your hips instantly increasing as Simon’s chuckle makes your lungs constrict. A separate heart-beat lives in your navel, skin sweaty and slick making its way down his fingers. 

“Being so good,” your voice breaks as Simon’s wide eyes from below meet you as your head lolls forward. He stutters, hearing the wet squelching of your pussy as his movements cease for a moment. You whimper, face pulling in, and he instantaneously gets back to it with increased fervor and ferocity as if he’d never just felt his cock twitch in his pants and his abdomen bunch up.

Your eyes widen, rapturous moans falling from your lips in blown-limpness as his mouth and fingers do sinful things to you.

The sounds coming from below were feral and animalistic at best, sopping wetness and loud groaning—it makes it all so much better. 

“So thorough for me, Simon. Making me feel so good Brown-Eyes,” you babble, tightening your core and palming hands shoving him impossibly farther into you. “Such a fucking perfect mouth—perfect fingers, knew you could make me cum on ‘em, please, Simon, fuck, oh God right there,” you break off of the praise into desperate whines. Your quivering body shakes and ruts faster, Simon’s stubble making it all burn in such a way that leaves you gasping, back begging to arch as everything comes to a tipping point.

Simon can feel it by the way your walls flex and pull in, how their slipperiness gets so loose it’s not even a problem to finger-fuck you even as your cunt bares down like a noose. Your fluids drip past his elbow, falling to his pants as his pelvis involuntarily tries to get friction from his zipper by humping the air in broken intervals. 

He’s breathing heavily, but not as much as you are, broken up by groans, grunts, and his open mouth licking of your engorged clit. He’d never admit to you how much your praise was making him want to bust in his own fucking pants. 

“S-Simon,” you knock your head back into the wall, eyes going glassy as the knot in your navel goes painful, a vile itching so very close as your spine begins to arch for the man’s viewing pleasure. “So close, oh God, so fucking good. Need it, Simon, need it from—”

Your breath hitches, fingers twitching into tight fists of fabric and the hair underneath as your walls clamp down. 

Orgasm ripping through you, your voice lets out broken, airy, moans of Simon’s name like a prayer, hips continuing to spasm and toes curling inwards. Not letting up his assault, the smug man’s tongue and fingers draw the entire experience out until your legs are too weak to hold you, having to be pressed back into the wall by white knuckles and fingers stained with your cum. You hear it drip to the floor and see it when your half-lidded eyes blurrily make out the ragged appearance of an arrogant Simon, clear beads falling off of his chin and his lower face decimated by your pleasures. The bottom of his balaclava is stained—sopping with absorbed juices. 

You both stare—you, lust-blown, and Simon, ready to grasp at himself and stave off the near-painful erection that needs to be taken care of. 

But you’re true to your words.

Not seconds after your release had flooded him, your hands pushed at his chest and shoved him to the floor. Simon grunts but lets your hands quickly fiddle with his zipper and send it down. Not a moment is wasted, and the man’s hands move your hips higher as you pull his pants and boxers down just enough to let his dick spring free and slap his abdomen. 

Your hand curls around it and he groans long, pushing up into your hand as you stroke him quickly and mercilessly with the spread of his weeping tip. Simon’s words come out as a way to steady himself, but the work of your hand is easy to get lost in as his voice is a growl.

“Tase so bloody good, Sunshine, yeah? Be needin’ that every day,” his mouth is taken in a kiss, and you tase yourself on his tongue as he shakes and his fingers flex into your flesh. “Fuckin’ hell,” he says as you lick his lips, panting below you as he quickly loses himself. “Not gonna…”

Simon’s orgasm builds incredibly fast—and not once does your hand slow in its course. He blinks in a blind panic, mouth letting off soft sounds of confusion as he looks down to see his red cock and how you play with it like a toy. You chuckle at him as his sounds get louder, legs rising, and the slapping of skin on skin addictive. 

“You are good with your mouth—and your hands. Should have guessed really, you are a mechanic after all. Got yourself all worked up.” Simon's hand comes up to your head pressing your lips back to his as his abdomen tightens and quivers, thighs shaking as his hips try to meet your break-neck pace but just can’t.

What were you doing to him? Why can’t he last longer than a few mere minutes? 

You break off and connect your forehead to his, brown eyes fighting to not go blurry and his mouth open with fast breaths. You push out as you feel his tip twitch and spurt prematurely, “Be a good boy and cum, Simon.”

He groans loudly, eyes fluttering as they try to stay locked to yours before the wet splatter of his rapid ejaculation layers yours as well as his abdomen sticky and soaked. It keeps going, not stopping until Simon’s eyes have come back down from where they had fled to the back of his head and his small grunted whine lets you know you should stop pumping him so violently. 

You release his member and go to rub along his abdomen, massaging the skin and laying kisses on his clothed chest slowly. His hands loosen on your hips, thumb pulling back to carefully run circles into the flesh as you hum in appreciation. 

Simon's quivering slows to a stop.

“You sure you only work a bar, then? Bloody fuckin’ hell.” Simon hisses, looking down at himself. “Made a fuckin’ mess, yeah?” 

“Only fair,” you mutter, moving up to press your lips together as you both sigh. Simon’s breath hitches as your stomach rubs him. “I like having you under me. It’s nice to see you look confused.” 

“Don’t get used to it,” he mutters, and a red sheen comes to his flushed face. “Won’t happen again.” 

Your face goes mischievous, head tilting. Simon growls a weak, “Don’t.” You chuckle and hide your face into his neck. 

“Don’t test it?” You ask into his flesh, your body still pulsing and needy at the display you’d managed to pull from the stoic man. Your tongue licks over your placed hickey with a newfound appreciation for the black and blue mark, blowing on it as Simon feels himself harden again. “Or don’t acknowledge that Simon Riley has a praise kink and when a woman tells him what to do he—”

Your spine settles to the floor, hands stuck on either side of your head and digging into the wood. Simon’s eyes glint primarily, and you keen to him as your arms move to wrap around his neck as your cunt tightens.

“Thought you said you didn’t want me on the floor?” He grasps your chin, moving his face to be above yours so he can speak plainly and dead-like. A surge of power takes over his voice, and you yield with a rising of your legs and a shiver as his fluid-slick abdomen slides over top of yours.

“That was before you made me cum in a matter of fuckin’ minutes by just stroking my cock. Now,” he breathes, “now I’m going to fuck you how you deserve.” 

He grasps your legs and pulls them around his waist, locking them as he lines up his half-hard dick and bullies it inside of you, your arching back bends into him, but your shocked moan is cut off as Simon starts to move. The pressure inside of your pussy is tight enough to feel like it could snap—your gummy walls taking the curve of his veins and the grate of his head as the tip curves upward. On girth and size, Simon is the largest you’d ever taken, and your face pulls in with a mix of pain and pleasure before the latter takes over completely. 

“Get me to be your toy, eh, Sunshine?” Simon keeps your chin grasped, not letting you look away as you try to garble words over the heavy slap of wet skin. “Keep me ‘ere so you can play with me like you’ve been doin’ from the start?” 

“So full,” you seem to have lost that edge, staring up into brown eyes as your spine digs into the wood below you, your cunt taking the fast slaps of Simon’s prod as it reaches every part of you that you could ever ask. Every trust makes your legs tighten, clamping down to keep him there and ring pleasure like water. “Such a big cock, Simon.”

He huffs, but his pace increases, panting at you as your lips meet for a sloppy and slobbering kiss of teeth and saliva. Sweat falls from both of you, coating your faces and lower halves with more liquid to make this dance easier—staining already ruined clothes. 

“Splitting you open, am I? So tight,” Simon grumbles, grunting as his elbows shift to stay beside your head. “Gettin’ me off so easily, need ta return the favor for making me feel so good, Sunshine. Bloody perfect cunt, takes my cock like it was made for it. Hear that?” Your skull moves to push into the side of his face as he bites at your neck, ravishing you as the forward and backward motion of his body makes your mouth hold back mewls of raw need. So many sounds—so loud and wet it was lewd, borderline obscene with every pump of the man’s hips that more just spilled out of you, pooling with every back and forth spreading of your hole. 

Simon bites a long whine back and angles himself higher, making you shout and cry as a burst of white light explodes in your eyes.

“Making me want to fill you full of myself. Over and over, make you drip with it—go until you can’t walk. You’d take it too, yeah? You’ve got such a good look on your face, you bloody love it when I stretch you open like this—takin’ my dick so well, Sweetheart.”

You were both animals trying to get fix after fix—drunk off scent and a biological urge. 

At the words, your pussy tightens around him even more, Simon holding back a loud groan and letting your little puffs of air grace his ears along with the ravaging dig of his fucking.

“You like that?” You whine, face burning as a hand descends to play with your clit. You gasp loudly and moan, not hiding the way your hips jump and rut and fight to keep Simon’s cock taking you raw.  

“Simon!” You call loudly. “I like it—fuck I love it, Brown-Eyes. Keep touching me, please, please keep going. Keep talking, love it when you talk like that.”  

“Makin’ fun o’ me,” he scoffs, “but the little temptress has the same bastard kink, eh? It’s alright, then. I’ll just help me get you off—”

The front door of the bar opens from beyond the wall. 

The both of you stop all carnal desires instantly, wide eyes snapping back and locking with each other. A pin could drop, fast breaths and fast hips held back even as you both quiver and your nerves plead to keep going. The need doesn’t last long. Simon's fat hand covers your mouth as your eyes glint with panic before getting right back to it. 

You try to speak, to get the words out that you should go out there, but it’s all cut off by the way he rubs you every right way. Your hand anchors to his back as someone walks around the bar, their voice muffled just like yours is, but this person has no idea you’re getting railed in the back room by the mechanic from across the street. 

Simon’s eyes are dark and urgent, but his hands can't as the slap of skin that’s still incredibly loud, and the wetness that follows all but telling. Your moans and whines are hidden, kept back by a tight palm as he smirks down at you. His hips are bruising yours and you can feel the hard bone of his pelvis as it slots itself fully into yours.

“Good girl,” he whispers, accepting the words with hard thrusts that make you whine like a dog, pawing at his gargantuan shoulder blades. “Keep quiet. I’ll make you feel good.” 

Your heart hammers, walls flexing and clamping at the words. Outside the walking continues, searching for you, no doubt. Simon's hips increase, almost cruelly, and your cut-off cries spill from between his fingers. 

The bastard chuckles and watches, letting your hips meet his as your release builds with the added need to finish quickly. 

It was rabid now your back arched, how the person outside mattered so little to you now, in fact, maybe you even wanted them to hear you like this—being fucked so perfectly to the point where you had tears in your eyes and your body was growing numb; mind blanking to only pleasure and the grating press of a foreign entity all the way to where it digs at your cervix and makes you see starts with every addictive thrust.

You can’t hear anything over the previous sounds, that and rough breathing are the only things in this hot room—the air tense and ready; anticipation a drug of the highest order. 

“C’mon,” Simon grunts into your ear, hand flexing as his lungs burn. He wasn’t far away either. “Let me see it—how your face screws up all nice and pretty for me.”

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you can only stare at the ceiling as the door of the bar slams shut once more, whoever there leaving. Simon releases your mouth and you fall apart with a spine-breaking arch and a high, feral, keen.

Your release is subsequently followed by Simon’s own, his body spasming as he gives three more violent pumps before the warmth of his cum seeps into your womb with a loud groan and a pound of his fist into the floor. He grinds you both through the aftershocks, the sparks of electricity that make both of your hips jerk just a few more times before you fall limp and useless. 

Simon stays inside of you as he shifts to the side, hooking one of your hips over his thigh as you stay face-to-face as your bodies gasp and pant for air. 

When the two of you come back to yourselves, some delirious minutes later, the first thing that you both notice is the tightness of your clothes and skin. Glancing down at the mess you’ve made of yourselves, you both slowly look back into each other's eyes, pausing.

You’re the first one to snort, before you have to hold your loud laughs back behind your hand. 

“Well, I sure do have some more secrets to keep,” you say through your fit, knocking your head to Simon’s chin. The man is smiling, his eyes crinkled and mouth jerking in a series of chuckles.

“Proper few.” The laughter died down to a simmering emotion of amusement. 

You smile at Simon, and he stares back, a hand coming up to touch your cheek delicately before it traces the lines of your face.

“You know I meant it, right?” You ask him, and those browns blink at you in question. “What I said before we decided to fuck. About keeping your secrets.” Simon’s face gets slightly more serious. Your hand cups his cheek, feeling the stubble on your fingertips. 

“Simon,” you say, “I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing, okay?” 

He watches you for any glint of hesitation—of a lie. But there is none.

“Why,” Simon asks. Your answer is simple as you smirk, recalling words from a while ago. 

“You’re just going to have to stick around to find out.”

Simon shoves his lips to yours and drags you back on top of him.

—

You both exit the back room two hours later, clothes ruffled and bodies far dirtier than ever. You have a limp in your step, a pulsing ache between your bruised legs, and yet you’d never felt better. 

Simon presses a kiss into your temple. 

“Walking you home,” is what he says, and you sigh through an adoring look. You were tired, incredibly tired, and you hoped that Simon would share your bed tonight so he could hold you like he did back there. 

“Deal,” you wink, and the man huffs a chuckle, back to that same stoic mechanic that you knew. 

It’s only then that you realize that Celina had never shown up for her shift. Pausing behind the counter, you blink and look around, confused as you flatten out your clothes. Simon catches on quickly, brows pulling in with concern. 

“Something wrong?”

“Celina,” you tell him, “she never showed up.”

A beat. 

“...Probably kept away,” Simon tries to lightly say, implication enough to make you scowl. 

“No,” you utter. “She would have tried to break the door down if she actually came in. She never would have walked away.”

The man hums, pulling down his balaclava and looking about. 

“What do you want to do about it?” It wasn’t mocking—he was being honest. Your lips thinned out in thought. 

“Well…I can’t leave the bar unattended, she needs to be here in order for me to go home.” You motion a hand helplessly, shaking your head and walking forward. Through a sigh you grumble, “I guess I have to call her or I’ll—” A shadow darts from across the street and your head snaps to the dark window. 

Words coming to a swift stop, you gaze outside with blank eyes, mouth open in confusion. Simon stands taller, not having seen the strange event but not liking the shock on your face as he pivots to the view to study it. 

Brown darts over the street lamps and the closed body of his shop, along the sliver of the obsidian street and the tops of bushes in the plant boxes. But there was nothing there and Simon glanced back at you from over his shoulder with furrowed brows. 

“Thought I saw someone in a…” you frown, eyes not leaving the window as your heart tightens. “In a mask.” 

“Mh,” Simon watches for a moment before he grunts and tension seeps into his muscles. “Mask?” 

“Like yours,” you say quietly, suddenly very still. “Without the skeleton.” 

Simon moves back slowly, one foot backing up before he’s behind the counter again and shifting nearer to you—your eyes flicker upward but swiftly return to the view. He pulled out his phone from his wrinkled pants, and no sooner had he put it to his ear that you saw the individual again. This time it wasn’t just one shadow, it was three, and there wasn’t just a flash of black mist and then poof gone again—it was worse than some schoolyard prank. 

There was a bat. There was the swing of a strong arm. The glass explodes with a resounding shatter and the shrill yell falls from your mouth not milliseconds later.

Getting tackled down, Simon keeps your head to his chest as he shifts to hit the ground first, body sliding slightly before you’re forced under him and protected by his bulk. Grasping at him, you clench your eyes shut as large projectiles are hurled through the broken window and make contact with the bar shelf right above the two of you. 

But Simon doesn't move for a second. Not as the bottles shatter and drown him in alcohol and colored glass, not as the bricks fall back from gravity and strike his spine with a loud thump. He holds you to him, curled over your body as if in reverent worship, grunting as he takes the beating without thought to anything else but your safety. Loud shouts and laughter echo in from outside, but your wide eyes only stay and focus on Simon, his fingers gripping across your back and creasing your shirt. You flinch as a spec of glass knicks your arm, slicing through it with a sharp drag of an uneven edge. 

Simon growls into your scalp, but as he attempts to squish you farther into him, the barrage, just as it had come, entirely stops. 

Staying there, breathing heavily and your mind panicked, you have no time to think before Simon shoves himself up and snaps his enraged eyes forward. Like a large beast, his hands are in shaking fists, alcohol dripping from his shirt and glass pinging against the wood. You can smell blood. 

“Simon,” you say in concern, moving to stand up quickly as you try to get your breath back.

What the hell had just happened?!

“Stay there!” he barks, eyes tight as they dart back and forth to nothing until they find something. 

No one was there anymore, but in that absence, the true damage was brought to light. You ignore Simon’s words and shift until you can peek over the top of the counter, fingers shaking and mouth dry. The man beside you is stone-still, his darkened eyes lighting like fire and brimstone as the anger can all but be tasted in the air. 

The mechanic’s shop across the street. Seen through the broken remains of the bar as if a tornado had come through on the dusty air. 

It had been ransacked.

—

The illumination of the police lights takes over everything, pushing the dark away as Sheriff Russel tries to get statements from the two of you. But your attention keeps getting brought back to the stiff-standing presence of Simon. 

He hasn’t spoken beyond clipped sentences, even when he’d called Price, Johnny, and Gaz to explain the situation. 

“Can you explain what you saw?” The Sheriff eases, and your attention is drawn back. 

“It wasn’t much,” you stutter, shaken. “Shadows—men wearing masks. One had a bat and hit the window before they started throwing bricks.”

Simon’s eyes shift over the damage, numb gaze finding more broken glass, thrown paint, and dents in the garage door. The front had been trashed with garbage, and the lobby was ruined—it was by some miracle that the bikes had been left alone for whatever strange reason. 

It didn’t make him any less full of wrath. 

Your hands are still shaking, and your arm still leaking small droplets of blood down your flesh. Simon’s injuries were worse; he’d taken the brunt of it, but he didn’t seem to care at all, even as the crimson liquid stains his wet back.

“Simon needs medical attention,” you speak lowly to the Sheriff, head moving forward. “Can we do this later at the station?”  

“I’m fine,” the man in question grunts, voice deep with anger before turning and walking back to the two of you. Not once do his eyes stop searching the area; on high alert even now and not eager to be out in the open. Those old instincts were creeping back over him, and he wanted to get you somewhere safe so he could handle this situation himself.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who was responsible and while property was one thing, your comfort was another. 

How dare anyone do something like that to you. 

“You’re bleeding,” you explain, eyes tight. A hand brushes over your arm, taking it up and inspecting the small cut that you wear. 

Feet shift, and through a clenched jaw Simon utters, “So are you.” 

“You know what I mean, Brown-Eyes,” you try to make him listen, but it’s fruitless. 

“Don’t worry about me,” the Sheriff walks to assess the damage, letting the two of you speak in hushed whispers and firm looks. 

“You sound stupid,” you hiss, and Simon’s fingers rub your skin softly, his study of your body taking place in a slow sweep. “Of course I’m going to worry.” 

“Need to stop shaking.” Your face creases at the comment. 

“I’m not shaking.” Simon grabs your hand and puts his fingers through yours, raising it between you so you can look. Your eyes shift down, and your limb can clearly be seen vibrating like an engine in his hold; the fingers unable to close fully. 

Not speaking, Simon cups it with his other hand and presses, grounding you as your lungs take a deep breath before you can clear your throat. 

“I’m fine,” your words barely make it to the air. 

“...Now who’s sounding like me?” The man mutters eyes creased as he stares. “Breathe.” 

You listen, taking another deep breath and staring at Simon’s chest.

“Up ‘ere,” a finger moves out to tap under your jaw, making you tilt your head up to lock with his browns. “There we are, then. Focus. M’right here.” 

“You’re good at this,” you grumble, put off by your own separation from your body. 

Simon tilts his head. “Had to be.” 

You spare a strangled huff at that. 

How quickly things could go wrong—you had thought that tonight would be the best night of your life, but now it was just one single instant that things had made sense, the rest a stain on your memory. 

“You know it was Graham and his friends?” Simon nods, still watching you and making sure you’re calming down properly, waiting for that adrenaline crash. He knows. “What are we going to do about it?”

“Right now?” The man pauses. “Nothing. You’re coming down with me to the Bed and Breakfast. Staying there.” 

So that was how Simon shifted his priorities, walking you down the road as more and more police showed up—there would be more talking in the morning, you had given them everything you’d known so far. It was also how you were mobbed by three more concerned mechanics as you entered their temporary living situation until houses were purchased, blue and brown eyes blinking at the two of you quickly. 

“What in the bloody hell is going on?” Gaz had asked, but you were much too tired to speak beyond leaning into Simon’s shoulder and grunting. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Johnny had muttered, only in boxers as he’d shoved out of his room. “Heard the sirens—what’s been happenin’ without me?”

Price had been the one to finally settle everyone and push out a stiff order to leave Simon and you alone for the night. With various glances and tense looks, you were both allowed into your room with little more trouble. 

It was tiny but clean, and Simon had locked the door with a grumble and moved you over to the bed so you could sit, moving off to run a bath. 

You heard the pipes squeak—the whoosh of water as it entered the tub. 

Your mind has still not entirely caught up to itself as Simon leads you forward and begins undressing you; taking off your top and letting you shift out of your own pants. The bathroom tile is cold, and you wrap your arms around yourself when you’re entirely bare as you can’t find the words to speak. That is, before Simon takes his shirt off and you see the damage that’s been done. 

You gasp, hand reaching out but stopping above the cut skin surrounded by a million bruises and large welts. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper, delicately touching the skin. None of the slices were deep, but the horror was still there. “Simon…”

Brown eyes soften, and the balaclava is removed as well before a kiss is dug into your forehead. The shade of his hair matched his eyelashes, and now with the full picture, he was as handsome as you imagined him to be, though to all others the scars and the crookedness of his nose might be a shock. You hadn’t expected anything different. 

“Just bruises, Love,” he pets your neck, thumb running over your pulsepoint. 

“You’re all cut up,” your eyes water, but your stubbornness holds them back as you try to take everything in from his willingness to show you his face to the events of tonight. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know that he would do something like this, really, he was always a jerk but he was never…never bold like this.” 

Cupping his cheeks, you kiss his jaw, salty water tracking down your face as you hear Simon take in a breath. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly, curling over you as if another barrage of bricks was imminent. 

But there wasn’t going to be any danger here. Not with three other veterans down the hall.

“He ever…?” You shake your head, shakily uttering a quick response to Simon’s trialed-off question.

“No. No, I’d never stand for that.” The man’s broken body loosens, a long sigh exiting his nose in blatant relief. 

“Good,” is all he says. “Deserve better.”

You sniffle, getting a reign on your emotions. “I’ve got better.” 

During the shared bath, you clean the others’ wounds, your back to the wall as you run water over the stretch of Simon’s shoulders, washing away the blood. Your nails drag over his skin as he shivers, not looking back at you as he reaches behind and takes one of your hands into his. The black stain of his tattoos rubs along your bare arm as fingers intertwine, your limb moved and held to his abdomen as you kiss one of the knobs in his spine softly and hum to him. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his skin. 

Simon doesn’t respond, only leaning back into you more. 

—

Two days pass with no sign from Graham or his friends—Celine, either. Everyone in town was on edge, and in that time you’d been put on paid leave from the bar on account of your involvement and the potential involvement of your coworker. So, you spent most of the time at the shop with Simon, as he’d asked you to so he could keep an eye out.  

You had thought that maybe this was a one-time event, and had believed it, as well. Graham had made a point, and being the idiot that he was, he’d pay for it. If he was smart, he’d be out of the country by now—there was no mistaking Simon’s vendetta now. Price had to reel him back in the day after the vandalism. 

You’d woken up to an empty bed, having been fitted into one of Simon’s incredibly large shirts and sweatpants for pajamas, and heard arguing. Feet padding like a cat, you had pressed your ear to the door and listened with held-back breath, as if only a peep would make the heated conversation stop.

“He made her bleed, Price. He put her in danger!” 

“Get your head on, Simon, you aren’t in the service anymore,” Price had hissed, shadows slinking along from under the door. “You can’t do anything about it.”

There had been a low growl, an aggravated breath. 

“I can’t sit ‘ere when he’s waiting like a fucking robber. This is my responsibility— happened on my watch.”

“Since when did that fucking happen, Simon, eh? What’s been going on with you two?”

A pause. “...It’s complicated.”

“Then un-complicate it—you’re thinking like a damn soldier.” 

So here you are, fixing the streaks of miscolored paint that had been spattered over the mechanic’s shop as Simon comes out, wiping his hands with a rag. 

“Good thing I didn’t start on the mural yet,” you comment to him, stepping back and putting your roller down. The rag is offered and you take it with a small smile while you slide it over your fingers. “Else I would have tracked him down myself.”

“Would ‘ave helped.” October eyes flicker along the drying paint—the marks still visible. “M’sorry.”

“If you won’t let me apologize,” you raise a brow in challenge. “I won’t let you either.” 

Simon’s eyes crinkle from behind a new balaclava, missing the skeleton details. “Cheeky.”

“It’s called being truthful, Riley.” You sigh through the tilt of your head. “But the bad news is that I had to use up the paint, and I’m not even halfway done with this. It didn’t help that they used a darker color than what I wanted as the backdrop.” 

“Want to take a drive out, then?” The question is swift and honest as it's aimed at you like a distraction from the anxiety. Simon motions his head to the garage. “Got a bit before I’m needed, m’sure you could use a break, yeah?”

“You don’t have to,” you utter, moving to rest a hand on his bicep. He almost purrs at the touch, leaning in. 

“Want to,” Simon grunts slowly. “Bikes are still good. Bastards knew I’d skin them if they touched ‘em.” 

“I’m sure,” you chuckle, teasing him through a smirk. “Big Bad Simon Riley.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes at that, turning back around as you follow after, laughing. 

You both get onto the Rebel, and the brown leather jacket moves your way along with the helmet, slipping it over your head not seconds later as Simon grabs his spare. 

“Are you sure you shouldn't ask for another helmet?” You had brought it up the first time as well—the prospect of a crash. 

“Only a small ride—I’ll go slow, Sunshine.” Knuckles tap the top of the helmet in reassurance. “Matters more that you’re the one wearing it.” 

Your face creases up, but you sigh and nod, wrapping your hands around Simon’s waist and tightly holding on as the engine starts rumbling below you. Moving your feet up to the rests, you scoot closer as the man pushes off the ground, flipping the kickstand back up before he leans forward slightly and lets the bike do the work.

As before, the two of you get out of town and nature opens up—but as soon as you really start to let your worries slide away and focus on Simon’s pulse and the freedom he gives you, there’s a cold wind from the west. Coming up and dragging along with it, a dark rain cloud sits over you both about a seven-minute drive in.

“Should we pull over?!” You shout in question as raindrops begin to patter off your helmet. The bike makes a strange chirping sound, and you blink over Simon’s shoulder until your attention is taken away by his answer. 

“Soon!” You nod, trusting him to know, and ease back. Your fingers trace the small bulge of scars at his waist, shivering. 

One minute later, you’re about to say you can see the town ahead when that chirping starts again. Brows furrowing, you grunt in the back of your throat and yell, “What’s that sound, Simon?”

He glances back briefly, unable to hear you.

“The sound!” Simon’s fingers flicker, head moving down to the bike below him—the hum of the engine was too strong up here, he can’t hear anything out of the ordinary. 

“What are you—?!” 

There’s a great shriek of black metal, and the Honda Rebel 500’s front wheel breaks off from the motorcycle fork and the bike flips. 

TAGS:

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[swiss-mrs]

#WEIRD☆GIRL

(Word Count: 4.6k)

Rating: PG-13, Adult Language and Themes, All Characters are 18+

Reader/OC Description: Reader/OC is Afro-Latina. She has long, dyed black hair that is worn straight with baby bangs and shaved brows. She is an alt baddie and would've definitely ruled MySpace. Body shape/type is not detailed. No Use of Y/N.

Playlist

Synopsis: One day, while Dave and Todd are out, they pass by a park void of screaming kids. Instead, the park is taken up by a group of what looks to be a mix of teenagers and young adults. Passing by the loud group, the boys can't help but stare, mixing Dave up with a girl more socially unacceptable than him.

Warnings(?): Adult Language, Sexual Themes (No Smut, Just Horny Boy Thoughts), Catcalling (Potentially Triggering Language)

This is written in third person but mainly narrated from Dave's view.

》》》

"I can't believe they had it!" Todd exclaims, gripping the plastic bag in his hand tight. Dave nods, gripping his backpack straps.

"Yeah, we need to start coming here more often. They have everything. We gotta bring Marty with us when he gets back."

Today marked the first day of the boys' last Spring Break. Marty was out of town on a trip to Florida with his family, so this cut down the trio to a duo, Dave and Todd. The two were currently walking along a street on the other side of town than their usual hangout. Todd found a new comic and video game store, and he and Dave figured they'd check it out.

"I can't wait to read it."

"Remember, no spoilers until I pick up my edition too." Dave replied. As they round a corner to get to their bus stop, they are greeted with the sight of a large clearing between buildings.

On the closest side to the boys was a skate park. It had a decent amount of skaters occupying it, echoes of skateboards landing against concrete traveling throughout the park. As the boys walked passed, they could hear the sound of music. The further they walk, the closer the music gets.

The current song that was playing was what Dave imagined rugged bikers with dark sunglasses and handlebar mustaches listened to. Scary and intimidating. It was muddy and grungy and punk and metal? He wasn't well versed enough to really know how to label its genre. Just as one song came to an end, another just like it followed.

He and Todd were both staring at the group surrounding the picnic table that held the speaker. Each one was different from the next, but they all had a similar dark and grungy style.

Something that immediately caught his eye was a black haired girl who took two big steps to get atop the picnic table. As the new song began to pick up, she got into a matching character. As she winded her hips and lip sang to the lyrics, Dave was completely entranced by her. "Woah..."

"Yeah…" Todd absently replies.

Her unnaturally dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and around the curve of her breasts. Her bangs reminded Dave of a toddler who decided to experiment with scissors. They were far too short to be considered "normal", but, Jesus, did she pull them off well.

She had two bows on the sides of her head, one purple and the other an off-white cream color. She wore a black, short sleeve crop top with red writing on it, something Dave couldn't really read clearly from this distance. She had knitted, fingerless gloves on each hand that nearly blended in with her skin tone. Dave's eyes continued to work their way down her legs, finding her thighs covered with light pink, sheer lace shorts that stopped mid thigh. The only thing keeping her "appropriate" were homemade, cut-off jean short shorts.

Dave couldn't help himself; he was captivated. He's never seen anyone dressed like she was, at least not in real life. It was like she stepped right out of an anime. She was incredibly unique. How was she able to pull that off so well?

Dave's eyes wandered down further to get a full view of her exposed, dancing legs. He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to touch them.

She swiveled her hips in circles as she began to spin and whip her hair to the beat. Dave had this opportunity to move his eyes up, getting a perfect view of her butt, his body lighting up as his heart raced.

She had made a full turn, stopping in the direction of the two boys, catching their stares. Todd immediately turns his head to try and seem captivated by the clouds above, but Dave is not as quick to notice.

"Dave." Todd mumbles, eyes dodging the girl's gaze, darting back and forth from his friend, the ground, and a very (not-so) interesting brick building behind the park. "Dave." Todd repeats, elbowing Dave in the side, finally snapping him out of his hypnosis.

"Ouch!" Dave yelps in surprise, turning to Todd who is looking at him wide eyed, trying to send him a message. Dave looks away from his friend and back to the table dancer. She was staring right at him with squinted eyes. They seem to make eye contact for a solid second before she abruptly lifts a hand to her forehead. She held up her pointer and pinky fingers. The 'rock and roll' symbol she held against her head imitated horns as scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out like a child. The action shocked Dave, but he couldn't help but find her oddly adorable.

Todd is quick to snatch the handle at the top of Dave's backpack and drag him away to their bus stop at the end of the street. The ride home was a pretty quiet one after that.

》》》

Two weeks have passed since he'd first seen the strange girl. Every spare chance he got during spring break was spent taking advantage of his vigilante skills for the wrong reasons. He had secretly visited that park numerous times, watching his girl and her friend group from afar. He knew that stalking was not how he should've gone about this, but he also didn't see walking straight up to her and introducing himself as an option either.

Something was definitely wrong with him. There is no good reason for him to know where she lives, but he convinced himself it was just to ensure she got home safe. Tonight only enforced that thought.

Usually she would walk home with at least one friend for good measure, but for some unknown reason to Dave, she walked alone.

Today, she had on an extra baggy hoodie. One that he came to know as one of her favorites. It reached the tops of her bare thighs, the hem of her mini skirt just visible below. She wore leg warmers that matched the color of her hoodie and worn combat boots. She had a small backpack that looked like wings on her back, decked out in pins of all kinds. The oversized hood was perched on top of her head.

She was always good about checking her surroundings and looking over her shoulder when walking alone, but this wasn't a matter of a sneak attack.

Dave watched as an older man stepped out in front of his strange girl. Dave couldn't hear the exact dialog due to their distance and the passing people and cars, but he for sure knew that whatever was being said was not welcomed.

"No. Thank you. I'd rather be left alone." Dave heard that loud and clear, so why did this creepy guy not take the hint and leave?

The man abruptly reached for her arm, and gripped it tight. Dave took off in a sprint.

"Get your hands off me, asshole!"

"Don't be a fucking tease-"

"Hey!" Dave cut the guy off, running up behind her. "Didn't you hear what she said, creep? Let her go!" He said firmly. Both the creepy guy and the girl's eyes look over to Dave, both of them giving him a once over. Her eyes were full of confusion, one thinly drawn brow raised. The man scoffed at the kid.

"What the fuck is this?" he shoots back. Dave squares his shoulders and raises his masked chin. "How about you mind your fucking business, princess, before you get hurt." the man follows up, making fun of Dave's costume.

"Let. Her. Go." Dave repeats sternly. The guy laughs in his face.

"Or what, leotard?" Dave follows up by removing the batons from behind his back. He points one at the man.

"Or else I'll have to beat you until you let go?" He says confidently. The girl cringes, that was not nearly as intimidating as he thought it was. The guy laughs again, flicking out a pocket knife. The two men stood there in a stare down. Their pause gave the girl a chance to yank her arm from the man's grasp, simultaneously using her other hand to whip out a pink taser decorated like a mini Gameboy. She shoves the sparked end into the side of the creep's neck, causing him to twitch and spasm. She holds it there until the man falls to the ground twitching, presumably unconscious. She takes her booted foot and jumps into a hard kick to the man's side.

"Fuck you, dipass!" Dave stands there shocked. The girl's gaze switches to face him. He lifts his hands in surrender and slowly puts his batons back. The girl takes one big step closer to Dave. He jumps back, but she is quick to grab one of his hands and begin dragging him down the route of towards her apartment.

They walk a couple blocks and round a corner in silence before she stops abruptly and turns to Dave. He stands there staring, absolutely shell shocked. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing!?" She asks, putting two hands on her hips and resting her weight on one side.

"Uh-" Dave stutters. The girl raises her brows expectantly. "I, uh- I was trying to help you." The girl's brows draw together as she squints.

"Thank you, but, to be honest, you didn't really do much, and that only answered one of my questions."

"Uh, I'm, uh- The name's KickAss." The girl stares at him in disbelief for a good five seconds, searching his eyes for any sense of a joke.

When she doesn't find anything, she lets out a "pfft" and giggles. "You're joking, right?" She raises her brows with a grin.

"Uh, no. I'm not…" Dave's eyes look everywhere but at her.

"I-," giggle, "I'm sorry." Another giggle, " I don't mean to be rude, but KickAss?" Dave smiles nervously, instinctual reaching for the back of his head. "You really need a rebranding, my guy." She says, an amused smile still playing on her lips. Her eyes didn't hold any malice or judgement, just intrigue.

"Yeah, well, I'm obviously not that creative." He laughs nervously. Dave looks back to her, finally getting a proper look at her up close. She's smiling… at him. God, he was going to faint.

"Jesus, your eyes." She says suddenly, catching Dave off guard. "They're gorgeous, my god." She huffs a short laugh, staring into his eyes. Dave can't keep eye contact for long, completely flustered. He thanked the powers that be that he had a mask on at this very moment. He was sure he was as red as ever.

"Thank you." He looks down. "You, uh, your eyes are beautiful, too." He says sheepishly. She laughs, shaking her head.

"Oh, please. They're just a normal, old brown. Nothing compared to your stunners. Wow." She throws back at him. "Well, I appreciate you stepping in, KickAss." She thanks, putting emphasis on his 'name'.

"No problem. You seem to have it handled without me." His illusion of 'stalking for protection' ruined.

"Nonsense! Thankfully, I didn't need you to start a fight this time. The fact that you even stepped in at all when you saw something means a lot, so thank you." She clasps her hands in front of her, swaying side to side.

"Can I walk you the rest of the way?" He asks. She shakes her head.

"As sweet as that is, no, thank you. I don't quite know how I feel about masked men knowing where I live." She teases. "Plus, it's not much further. I'll be okay." She smiles at him, again. Dave can't decide if he wishes she'd stop looking at him or if he wishes she'd keep her gaze on him forever. She begins walking away, "Thanks, again! See you around!" She shouts behind her, turning another corner.

》》》

Two months have passed. Shortly after their first, up close, encounter, Dave made it a point to walk her home every chance he got, always when she was alone. Well, not every time. She started to get suspicious as to how he always knew when she was walking alone. "Are you following me?" She'd ask, Dave giving an unconvincing 'pfft' and a 'no', causing her to roll her eyes. After that, he made sure to space out their walks but still following her from a distance. It's now nearing the end of June, and his graduation date is only a couple weeks out.

This night was a first. She invited Dave in. His eyes widened in shock, "Yeah, sure!" He said a little too enthusiastically, internally cringing at himself, but his awkwardness only caused her to giggle.

She nods, "Okay. My brother is home, so you'll have to sneak in. I'll go in first. Just turn the corner," she points, "and use the fire escape ladder to get to the fourth window up. My window has a collection of ninja turtle action figures on the sill." Dave opens his mouth to say something, but she continues, "Wait there until I come in. I just have to let my brother know I'm home first, then I can disappear into my room." Dave sits his mouth and nods. "Okay, I'll see you up there!" She smiles, jogging into the building.

Dave watches her jog up the stairs until he can't see her anymore. He then makes his way around the building and, as instructed, climbs up the fire escape. He gets to her window with ease. Through the parted curtains, he could see into her dark room. The light in the hallway provided little to illuminate the room from the bottom of the closed door, but thanks to the setting sun, Dave could clearly see the four little trinkets on her windowsill. It made him smile. She was a little nerdy, too.

"Ok, I'll order the pizza!" Before Dave could analyze her room any further, she bursts through the door, tossing her bag on the floor. She turns, closing and locking the door before running up to the window. She throws the curtains open and slides up the window, smiling brightly at him. "Hola."

"Buenas Noches, señorita." Dave says, again cringing at his choice of words, getting a laugh out of her.

"Vamos." She says, stepping aside. He climbs through the window, trying his best to avoid disrupting the figures. "You up for pizza?" She asks once he's fully inside.

Dave nods, looking around at her room. "Yeah, sure."

She smiles up at him, gesturing to her room, "Bienvenido a mi casa." She says dramatically. "Make yourself at home, señor KickAss."

Dave chuckles at her, shaking his head. "Gracias." His accent is still strongly American, but four years of Spanish didn't make it the worst. He goes to sit on the plush bench at the end of her bed. He figured that was a safe bet. He wasn't on her bed, but he also wasn't awkwardly sitting at her desk in the corner of the room. It was a kind of middle ground. His eyes follow her as she goes over to her old school boombox, graffitied with stickers, and turns on some music, low enough for them to hear each other, but just loud enough to disguise their voices from any eavesdropping. "Do I need to worry about your brother?" He asks playfully, deep down a little nervous.

"No, he's playing video games with our cousins online. He can't hear a thing with his-"

"AHHH! NO MAMES WEY!" a scream can be heard, as if on queue, scaring the fuck out of Dave.

She rolls her eyes, continuing, "headphones on." She sits on her bed, crawling over to rest her bare legs on the empty cushion next to Dave. She grabs her laptop that was laying on the bed and opens it up. "What kind of pizza do you like?" She asks, typing away.

"Uh, whatever." He says, unsure.

"Well, guess we can't go wrong with half pepperoni and half cheese." She says, placing the order. "My brother is pretty boring when it comes to pizza." Another scream could be heard in the background, promoting another eyeroll. Dave chuckles a little, nodding.

He twiddles his thumbs before asking, "So, why did you invite me in?" The girl shrugs her shoulders, still typing and clicking away.

"I dunno. You've walked me home nearly everyday for the passed 2 months, and I've grown to trust you. Every time we part ways, I feel the urge to keep you around. I figured it was about time we hung out for more than just a few blocks." She closes her laptop hallway and sets it to the side. His heart flutters.

Dave looks at her stunned. "You want to hang out with me?" The girl squints at him.

"Um, yeeaaah. What kind of question is that?"

"I, uh- I mean- it's just- you know-..." He stutters. She giggles at him.

"What?"

"I mean, you're just so cool, and I'm, you know-"

She looks at him amused. "You're what? A cool vigilante guy who is sweet and funny and someone who should totally should give himself more credit." She bends her legs, nudging him softly with her knee. She scoots down the bed a little to sit closer to Dave, holding her knees to her chest. She uses her oversized sweatshirt to encompass her entire body. Dave looks at her with admiration, his heart racing again, before looking away from her and down at the bench below him. "I don't hear a 'Gracias' or a 'Tienes razón, mi hermosa. Eres muy inteligente y eres la mujer más bella del mundo. Gracias por todo, mi amor.'" She goes on.

Dave laughs, "Thank you. I don't know if you're right, but you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Dave says boldly but still avoiding eye contact, looking down at his hands.

The girl's eyes widen, "You speak Spanish?" She looks horrified, embarrassed by the words of praise she tried to get him to say.

"A little." He twiddles his thumbs more, "I've been taking Spanish all throughout high school. I am no expert, but I can get around." He shrugs.

"Welp, that's embarrassing." the girl reaches up to tug hard on the strings of her hoodie, hiding her face in the fabric. Dave looks up and reaches for her hands.

"Que? No 'gracias'?" He teases, trying to get a look at her face. He has no clue what is coming over him, but he is becoming a bit more comfortable. His heart is still pounding, but seeing her get flustered brought his confidence up. She peers out from inside her hoodie. Her wide eyed look nearly floored him. He was forever grateful that he was already seated or else his knees would have buckled.

"Gracias,... señor KickAss." She says playfully, trying to make up for her embarrassment by joking off. He offers her a soft smile, melting her. It was now her turn to avoid his eyes. Her eyes make their way over to the stereo. "So… you're still in high school?" She asks, looking back to him, wearily.

He nods, "Y-Yeah, but not for long." He says quickly, the realization coming quick that they don't actually know each other's ages. "I graduate in like 2 weeks." Her nonexistent brows raise as she nods. "Are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I tested out, got my diploma early. I couldn't be bothered with high school anymore." She shrugged. Dave's brows shot up. She really was smart. "It's just me and my brother. The earlier I got out of high school, the more time I had. It allowed me to help out with bills and whatever, get us a nicer place." She gestures to the room around her. "I mean, it may not seem like much, but trust me when I say it's a million times better than where we were." She then takes the time to look around and appreciate her surroundings.

Dave's look of admiration returns. "You're amazing." He blurts out. The girl's eyes find him, holding his eye contact, again with this wide eyed stare. She was gonna kill him. Her heart stopped when she looked in his eyes and found nothing but honesty and softness. She gives him a little smile. My god, Dave was literally going to pass out.

》》》

Dave didn't seem to notice, but hours went by with them talking, eating pizza, and talking some more. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in the room was coming from her bedside lamps and a flickering candle.

By now, both of them had made their way into the bed. Dave was laying on his back, watching the ceiling while she was laying on her stomach perched up on her elbow, watching him. They were currently both comfortably silent, the soft music still playing in the background. She guessed that her brother must have fallen asleep at his console by now, considering there weren't any more frustrating cries or exciting cheers heard from across the apartment. Dave is the first to interrupt the silence between them. "Would it be a terrible idea to take my mask off right now?"

The girl gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest, "and reveal your secret identity, Zorro?" She lets out a short laugh, this causes Dave to let out a tired smile.

"I'm being serious." There's a pause.

"Well…" the girl starts, "you know, once you do so, there's no going back. I'm not so much of a bitch that I'd ever expose you, but you know… it's a big step."

"Is it in the right direction?" he asks, turning his head to look over at her. They stare deeply into each other's eyes.

She sighs, "I'm sorry, babe, but that's a decision you'll have to make on your own." The pet name catches Dave off guard. He nods and sits up, causing the girl next to him to follow suit, twisting her body so she's cross crossed and facing him. Dave takes a deep breath and reaches for the back of his mask. Just as his gloved hands meet the fabric, he felt a smaller hand touch his. "Are you sure?... Absolutely positive?"

He doesn't move, "Positive." He replies. She lefts go of his hand and he pulls the mask forward and off his head. He kept his head down for a second, taking in a deep breath. He could feel her eyes staring at the side of his head.

He looks up and turns to her. They make eye contact for a good 3 second before her sleeve covered hands come flying up to her face, covering her eyes. "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god, what?!" Dave panics.

"You're hot!" She exclaims. Wow, did she really know how to throw Dave off. He watches her, shocked. "This feels wrong, oh my god!" She says, muffled by her sleeves. "I should not be seeing this right now." Dave smiles a little. How does she do this? She's just too cute.

He reaches up for her hands, "Well, like you said, there's no going back, babe." He says, pulling her hands down. Her eyes were squeezed shut, scrunching up her face in what Dave thought was the most adorable way. "Oh, don't be a baby. Open your eyes." He says. She squeezes them even harder just before opening them up, like ripping off a bandaid.

She lets out a sigh as her eyes roam over every feature. She takes a moment to just admire his face before giggling when her eyes make their way to his hair. "What?" Dave asked, this time not panicked, but amused.

She giggles some more, smiling wide. "Your hair is a mess." She says finally, biting her smile.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I don't really do face reveals, so I didn't bother thinking of a way to properly tie my hair up under the mask."

She smiles at him softly, her eyes relaxed. She reaches up to touch his cheek. It's warm and a little sweaty from being stuck under a mask for the last several hours. They get lost in each other's eyes. Dave's jaw was slack, lips parted slightly. Her features still held her soft smile.

"I think I love you." Dave says abruptly, taking her aback.

"What?-"

"I just always feel so safe and comfortable around you, and I love how you're so unapologetically yourself, and you are always so kind and beautiful, and I can't help but find myself always thinking about you, and I'm always wondering if you're thinking about me to, which I hope you do, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't on your mind the way you're on mine, and ever since I saw you dancing on that picnic table when Todd and I were walking to the bus stop and you made that weird adorable little devil horn face thing, I knew I just had to know you, like I was drawn to you, and-"

"Wait, that was you?"

Dave ignores get question and continues rambling, "and I know we're just kids, but I can't think of a better way to live life than with you, and I want us to be together. I want to go to see your favorite scary movies with you, even though it confuses me as to why you still go to them when you say they always scar you, and I want to hold your hand and be there for you when you're scared. I want to go see those bands you always talk about in concert with you. I want to learn every lyric to every one of your favorite songs just to impress you when they come on. I want to hold you at night when you've had a bad day and don't know what to do with yourself. I want to keep you safe and always make sure you're happy. I want to be the reason you smile. I want to walk with you forever, stay by your side. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning, and I want nothing more than to hear you say you love me and tell me you love me the same way I love you, and I-"

"Dave, shut up!" She says with a smile, her eyes glistening. "Breathe." They both take a deep breath together. "If you keep going, you'll turn blue." They share a small laugh. "Can I kiss you?" She asks.

Without responding, Dave dives forward and kisses her full force. They deepen the kiss, her other hand reaching up to caress his other cheek, his hands resting on the bed, one on each side of her knees.

Without breaking the kiss, Dave moves to readjust. He pulls her closer, moving her to sit in his lap. She follows his lead, getting up to straddle him. Dave wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her closer to him. She arches her back, "accidentally" grinding against him. Dave is first to break the kiss with a gasp, his hands immediately making their way to her hips. She opens her eyes to find Dave's squeezed shut with his eyebrows narrowed together. His blue eyes open to meet hers after a second, both of them breathing heavily, Dave's eyes wide and innocent, looking up at her.

"Sorry." He says, embarrassed that she was able to affect him so easily. She grins, shaking her head.

"Don't be sorry. It's good to know I have such an effect on you." She leans down to rest her forehead on his. She squishes his check together, pushing him down to the bed, his hands finding themselves caressing her now exposed butt from under the mini skirt she still wore. He felt all the blood drain from his head downward. "Should we keep going?" She asks. Dave nods furiously, no longer able to form words.

She leans in slowly to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, too."

》》》

Moodboard (exposing "y/n") on my page under #weird girl swiss fic

[otakusheep15]

Obey Me Flufftober Day 3

Prompt: Sightseeing

Pairing: Leviathan x reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 914

A/n: It's time for my best boy Levi!! When I initially got this prompt for him, I found it funny since it seems so contradictory, but I still think it's cute. I did a poll on whether MC is showing Levi around the human world or if Levi is showing MC around the Devildom, and Levi in the human world won!

Levi had always been fascinated by the human world. Not in the same way Belphie was, however. While Belphie liked the people, Levi liked the things people created. The human world was full of anime, manga, and games that the Devildom could never create, and these all fascinated him indeed. While he'd been to the human world several times in his life, it had never been for fun. Usually, it was for some form of business, so he rarely had time to explore.

That's why he was so excited when you offered to go sightseeing in the human world with him. While he would never go sightseeing on his own, going with you sounded like a dream come true.

After much deliberation, you decided on going to your hometown. It's a small town with not a lot to do, but Levi was surprisingly insistent on this location. At first, you were confused on why he didn't want to go somewhere more interesting, but he explained that he wanted to see your home. In his mind, it's only fair since you've seen so much of his home and yet he's hardly seen any of yours.

So, it was settled. You would take him to your small town for some sightseeing. It was exciting for him, but completely nerve-wracking for you. Your town is so boring in comparison to the Devildom, and the last thing you wanted to do was bore him. However, Levi was quick to reassure you that he wanted to see your hometown more than anything, and it would not bore him at all.

On the day of your departure, your anxieties still haven't fully left your mind. However, you were willing to push them aside for now in the hopes that they would go away.

When you arrived home, Levi was immediately wanting to look around your house. It was just the two of you, so you allowed him the chance to look as he pleased. The house wasn't big, but it was home, and it did ease your nerves when you saw his positive reaction. Once he was done looking around and pointing out any little detail he could, you decided to start showing him around the rest of your town.

There were a couple of restaurants that were decent enough but nothing fancy, a library that, much to Levi's excitement, did hold some manga, a few regular stores, a movie theater, and a few other places to hangout. However, you decided to take Levi to your favorite spot in the whole town.

Well, technically, it wasn't fully in the town. On the outskirts, there was this beautiful sunflower field that you thought would be perfect for a little picnic date. It was quiet, and not many people came out here, so you knew Levi would enjoy it. You walked him around the field for a bit, explaining that you'd been exploring it since you were little, and it's a very special spot for you. Levi was touched that you'd let him into your space, and he told you as much. The picnic was relaxing and fun, and it was decided that you'd visit the library once you finished.

The library was Levi's dream. There were a surprising amount of books considering the building itself wasn't that big, but that didn't bother him in the slightest. He was quick to move away from your side in favor for exploring the shelves, and you laughed at how cute he could be. Eventually, he found the manga section, and you knew you weren't getting him back anytime soon. Seeing him so excited about such a simple manga section in a library is easily the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed, and you thought it a good idea to leave him be while be browsed. In the meantime, you explored your own favorite sections while you waited for him, but you didn't actually pick out any books since you knew you'd only be there for a day.

Eventually, Levi was done looking, though it almost seemed like he wished to stay for longer. As a final activity, you agreed to go see a movie. Levi was fairly interested in human world movies, so you thought this was a good opportunity to show him a new release. It was fun being able to see a human world movie in a human world theater with your demon boyfriend. Honestly, it wasn't all that different from seeing a movie in the Devildom, but it was still nice to think about.

Being here with Levi, showing him around your hometown, letting him in to your space, was a huge deal for you. By the end of the day, you couldn't even remember why you felt any doubts about bringing him here. Sure, you could have easily brought him to some big city with all the stores and restaurants you could ask for, but this was special. This was intimate and personal, and it made both you and Levi so unbelievably happy. You had let him see a new side of you today, and he was so grateful that you willingly let him in like this. He made sure to tell you as much when you returned to the Devildom. It was a sweet way to end your date, having him be so open about his feelings like this. Regardless of what your past self may have thought, present you considered this to have been the perfect sightseeing date.

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together

Suptober 22, Day 28: Animal

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/117106816

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

Dean and Cas ended up moving into a two-story house, five bedrooms and two full baths, a decent basement and a gorgeous kitchen. It was closer to Bobby’s garage than the farmhouse, but still outside of the hustle and bustle of town, on the dead end of a quiet street with the right amount land that Cas could play gardener instead of worrying about being a farmer. While Dean had been the one to spot it as he endlessly scrolled the local online listings. Gabriel took credit for it anyway as he had helped complete the sale of the farmhouse so that the timing lined up for the new house to be even more perfect. Cas and Dean let him have the credit, since they cared more about how much they both loved the property than whatever story Gabriel spun.

In the few months since the blowup with Sam, Dean had made some kind of peace with their falling out. He’d shed almost all of the guilt and accepted it had been all things that needed to be said, and he’d adjusted to not having Sam be part of his daily life. Dean had agonized over how to tell Sam about the fact that he’d left both the apartment and the farmhouse without making it seem like all was forgiven, until Jo had the simplest suggestion of mailing Sam a postcard with the new info. Dean still hadn’t heard anything from Sam, and he hadn’t blocked his number or anything. But a postcard said ‘here is information you should have’ but not ‘I am opening up the lines of communication as if nothing happened’. Dean picked out the blandest postcard he could find and scrawled the new address, ‘FYI’ and his name before mailing it. Never let it be said that Dean cut his brother off or left him to think Dean had just skipped town or something.

It was June before they knew it, settling into the new place and getting used to the changes to their routines. Overall, moving in together hadn’t created any giant waves in their relationship. Dean relished curling up in bed every night with Cas. They were steadily unpacking and deciding what to do with all the bedrooms. While there were five bedrooms, most of them weren’t particularly large. The biggest they used as their own bedroom, of course. It was on the ground floor with an en suite bathroom and a shower big enough for two. They set aside one room as a permanent guest room for anyone who needed to crash there for a night. Another room became an office for Cas to use on his online projects or whatever he was working on. The others they weren’t immediately sure about what to do with, so they became de facto storage so they weren’t constantly surrounded by boxes in the other areas of the house.

The official first day of summer was rapidly approaching, though still a couple of weeks away. Dean was still getting used to the area. The new place was in a different enough part of town that he was still working on figuring out the best store for produce and meat, the best takeout, the best shop for last-minute necessities, the best baked goods (especially pie). Dean was enjoying cooking more and really making the kitchen a space he could work comfortably in. His apartment kitchen had been dismally small, and the farmhouse had really been too much Cas’ for Dean to feel like he could do whatever he wanted. Cas had made it clear in the new place that he very much on board with Dean taking charge of that space. It was quickly becoming his favorite room to unwind in after work.

At the local grocery store, Dean was comparing the relative appeal of a head of broccoli versus a head of cauliflower when he heard a soft “Oh” behind him. Dean looked up to find an awkward Sam nervously fiddling with the basket over his arm, clearly unsure if he should stay or go. Dean met Sam’s eyes evenly, his expression neutral.

Sam cleared his throat. “Uh. Hi. Dean, hi. It’s uh… it’s good to see you, man.”

“Sam,” returned Dean.

“So I, uh, was surprised to see you on this side of town. I mean, I didn’t expect…”

“Cas and I bought a place near here. I sent you my new address.”

“Yeah, I got the postcard. Just didn’t really put it together I guess.”

“Okay.” Dean decided on not deciding and placed both heads in his cart. They could have them together or on separate days. He still hadn’t heard an apology from Sam though, and while he’d mellowed about the fight itself, he hadn’t forgotten it at all. He shook his head and started to push his cart farther down the wall of veggies.

“Dean, wait. Please.”

Dean stopped and looked at Sam, not saying anything.

“I’m sorry Dean,” Sam said in a rush. “I’ve thought about picking up the phone or coming by Bobby’s so many times. And I could never figure out what I’d say so I chickened out every time. And I still don’t really know what to say exactly. But…I am sorry Dean. I was such an ass and I should never have said any of it. I shouldn’t have even entertained those thoughts. They were garbage. You never deserved that. Neither did Cas. And if I ever have the chance, I will definitely apologize to him. Please. I hope you can believe me. I’m so sorry Dean.”

Dean didn’t respond immediately. It was almost a shock to have Sam actually say the words after all these months. “Thank you,” he managed. “Just to clarify. What about Benny?”

Sam flushed and he looked at his feet. “I’m sorry for Benny too. I can’t say I’m ever gonna love the guy, but looking back. He never actually did anything wrong, did he?”

“No he didn’t.”

Sam nodded. “I can’t ever fix what I did, you know, with Benny the first time. I’d take it back, I really would. And Cas…I just don’t know what to say. Him just existing seemed to be enough for me to decide dating him was a bad idea.”

“Looks like you’ve been thinking about things.”

“I have Dean. And I’m still working on it.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Not sure you know this, but I saw Gabriel in March and he, uh. Well, he said some things that really made me reassess where I was coming from.”

“I heard.”

“Good. I guess. Uh, yeah.”

The two of them stood awkwardly, Dean attempting to adjust to the fact that Sam actually seemed to understand the depths to which he messed up. It wasn’t a magic spell though; just say ‘I’m sorry’ and all is back to normal. This was just the first step before he could even consider forgiving Sam and inviting him back into his life. Even then, Dean doubted things could ever go back the way they had been before. He wasn’t sure he wanted that at this point.

“Look, Dean. It really is good to see you. And I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before randomly running into you. I apologize for my outburst at the Roadhouse. I apologize for how I’ve treated you, especially at brunch in January, and hassling you about your job. I was wrong. Really wrong. And I know you always took care of me and all, but I guess I hadn’t thought about how that impacted you. It’s a thing I took for granted, and that’s not okay. And I want to make it up to you, and Cas and… and Benny. But…can we try? To reconnect, I mean? I don’t expect things to be the same, but I miss you. You’re my big brother.”

Dean considered for a minute. It was easy to see the six-year-old saying sorry for getting so muddy Dean would have to see if he could find enough quarters to wash his clothes before school the next day, even though Sam knew Dean was supposed to be studying and the laundromat closed in an hour. But that was the thoughtlessness of children. It was also easy to see the man who belittled and shouted at him for choices that Dean made freely and would make again. It was hard to reconcile the fact that they were the same person, and yet it was painfully absolute that they were, and that Sam was a grown-up, and that Dean didn’t deserve any of it.

But Sam was still Dean’s brother, and he seemed to be making a genuine effort. “You can text me. If you want.”

“Great.”

“But it isn’t like it was. And I’m not promising anything. But. Yeah, man. We can try.”

 “Great. Well, then. Bye, Dean.” Sam walked away, not looking back.

Dean followed him with his eyes as he put the basket back in the stack and exited the store. He hadn’t bought anything. Thinking about it, Sam hadn’t had anything in the basket to begin with. And why on earth was Sam all the way on this side of town? There were plenty of places to get groceries nearer his own place.

Dean turned his focus back to the produce section. He still needed potatoes and onions and those little red and yellow peppers that Cas liked to snack on endlessly. And carrots for the pot roast. And the roast for the pot roast. He pushed his cart in somewhat of a daze in search of root vegetables.

Then it hit him and he stopped in his tracks. Sam hadn’t accidentally run into him here. Sam had seen Baby in the parking lot and decided to come in and talk to Dean. Maybe he’d been haunting this side of town, hoping to see him. Maybe he’d been stalking Dean like an animal. Maybe it was pure coincidence. But either way, Dean hadn’t been visible from the doors when Sam walked in. There was nothing in the basket. And as much as Sam said he didn’t manufacture their meeting, Dean didn’t buy it. He knew that kid too well.

Dean smiled. Well, that actually made things a little better if Sam had forced this thing. It meant he had found the courage to do the right thing and apologize. He was impressed that the only thing Sam had asked for was for Dean to allow him to stay in touch. That was small, and nothing like the conditions Sam had tried to insist on with his apologies in the past. His brother might actually be trying to change; might be trying to be a better person who Dean could have in his life. He couldn’t wait to tell Cas.

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge Force offshore right now that's morlok. Is a giant sleep it's the biggest yet and it has real armament the idiots did not evacuate Florida as much as they should have said that like really threatening for real I did not threat here correctly. And it's being wiped out it's really about 7 million ships and it's going to be gone in moments. The trumpsters are still sending everything they got at the robots and it's quite a few troops cuz they don't seem to be doing much and they're attacking it was hardware is a modified it and it's having some effects it's just not doing the job. Huge huge tank somebody and they're firing heavy at the mile high Yeager or robots really and they actually do stuff to them they find out where the controls are and it works it's a war and globally they're waging it it's going to take some time and they're watching the caches and stashes there's huge and it is absolutely insanity people are going after the clones now.

-a huge percentage of Florida left no but leaders did and then went out to get people here and they had the story out and about the robots as well it's going well they have told a lot of people and they're up and they're at it and they're coming here to say another huge wave for ships since being created and that was from the ones who left and bja is coming down the river is constantly and he's going to have a humongous fleet around Australia humongous

-several leaders here in the neighborhood of discussed leaving and there are still a bunch of houses with them in it they had us tell stories. And there's a bunch of them and they're still harassing our son. They're probably a hundred houses left out of the 200 that were here. And there's dwindling of those 200 houses near about 1,000 people and that is 100 houses and it's about 1200 people but their leaders who have left and yeah they said walling season in towns they have experience with it it didn't react much. Huge numbers of them are forming overseas to come here it's going to be a giant wave. And cheeseman that is the office this morning and there are 200,000 trillion requests and that's really around 200 quadrillion has been coming in a serious number and that's for Gap of social security also the numbers of warlock are reducing severely or very reducing significantly is going to be a bunch of money in social security a lot of money and I said the population of that group has reduced by 30% if not more and they have a huge store of it and they're trying to get more out it only happens if you're more applications about this is a decent amount it's not that much and a sunsets like Erma versus Ian whatever the ones that hit here and they're saying that's probably true and then Trump says you need both sides of the country and he's trying to say it doesn't do anything... Cheese man says we can tell what would happen and what they do and it's not really Max people. They're going to release the next round of checks and the hours is still on the 20 g or less and they are seeking other ways to tell people. going on now.

It's a giant number of people wondering what we're talking about no it's really fair to say it's excruciating living with you jackasses you don't know anything about people or life you try to ruin my day everyday and he's a joy to work with you know he's stuck there as a prisoner he and she like to make fun of you like your animals cuz you act like animals. She's to play with the cat that way there you guys are in the Year of the cat and won't wake up to it

Thor Freya

[aotearoagreen]

(caution: we are post minor-moderate surgery, we feel okay but very tired and may be overestimating our ability to comprehend properly lol. We are basically in full agreement tho! Also apologies for the length, we just got excited.)

Of course the stuff i'm about to share is not saying we should go back exactly to this, it's more "here is stuff from the past we can learn from and carry aspects of it over into our futures."

Our mother grew up in central Europe, in a village of 200 people - she had to walk to the next village over to go to school.

Everyone grew some food, had at least a vege garden and some fruit trees - they had to, they were all poor. Many also had chickens or sheep. There was a local store, and people would sell their extra produce to the store.

There were a number of families who owned 5 or 6 cows that they would milk each day and they would, again, sell their milk (by weight) to the milch-haus. I think there may have been a cream seperator, but i no longer remember. Then the milk would be dumped into a large barrel with a filter* in it, and people would come in with a bucket o be filled from a tap at the bottom.

(*which i am incredibly intrigued about, so if anyone can tell me more about this, that'd be great. Mum said as a kid they were told the filter was there to "stop them getting sick," but she couldn't tell me anything more about how it worked and i have no idea about its effectiveness compared to pastuerisation.)

I've never asked what happened with meat, but i suspect there would have been a village butcher. Most likely the cows, chooks, & sheep would have been "dual purpose," that is, bred for reasonable milk/eggs/wool and decent meat. Most mass-farmed animals these days are bred primarily for wool/eggs/milk OR meat production, with the other thing being produced in lower quality and/or smaller amounts.

I think having a local shop is better than like, a market-stall type situation, as a market-stall takes lot of time and effort getting everything organised beforehand as well as all the time spent there.

I'm not entirely sure about the functional reality of straight bartering (well, particularly not as a primary form of trade / economy (on a smaller scale it's not so bad but imo IOUs are a better, and gifting economies best) given that barter takes an awful lot of planning, cognition, social interaction, memory, etc. But on a larger scale i can see a local shop / dairy / butcher being incredibly beneficial even in a moneyless / gifting-economy society.

My dad grew up in a bigger town, but i know he also regularly went to the dairy with coins and a milk bucket to fill.

I forget now which parent told me about alcohol production (probably both, a bit) and my memory is very unclear here, but i believe people would share their cider presses, and i think occasionally those with distillaries would allow others to come in with fruit to ferment and distill. I think there may have been someone coming in to check people were meeting regulations in terms of how much they were allowed to produce, and people being people would adjust their equipment and hide extra bottles so they would appear to be meeting requirements lol

I do wonder a bit about, in a much more decentralised situation somewhat like this, how to ensure people are meeting decent standards in terms of hygiene and food safety because that is incredibly important. I do love people, and i do love the whole concepts of community support and reduced centralisation, but my trust in people does, unfortunately, only go so far! (Not to imply centralisation & mass production is inherently better here, just somewhat easier to oversee). People do got tired sometimes, or a bit lax or careless, and in a more casual arrangement there's less oversight & double-checking.

Anyway yeah, there's some food for thought about ways more local food production might work.

(Also i want to excitedly discourage straight glass- (or plastic-)houses in favour of those built against an ideally black-painted brick or stone wall for more passive heating for more of the year, (there is Definitely some more info around better use of glasshouses in John Seymour's (new) Complete Book of Self Sufficiency,) or possibly fruit walls (which you can find some info on on the Low Tech Magazine website. They require no glass or plastic! Though one could probably utilise both.))

Also if anyone is into woodwork &/or weaving or has a wood fire, you should totally also look into coppicing & pollarding.

(Also unimportant tangent, but i do disagree with the implication that selective breeding is just slow genetic modification - they can both be very good and useful! But even if it does slowly modify genes, selective breeding isn't going to get glowy genes attached to some FIV protective gene and into a cat, y'know?)

from my curious non-expert point of view, I am not seeing a way to fix food and agriculture systems without increasing the proportion of people who are farmers

[ghostgothgeek]

Map of Amity Park

So I did a bunch of research and traced over the map the GIW had in DCMH and extended it to try and build a map of Amity Park. I also paid close attention to locations and places named in canon. I am by no means an artist, map maker, photoshop pro, or civil engineer; I just wanted a general reference map for the phandom to use. 

Here is where I place Amity Park. We know AP isn’t in Michigan or Wisconsin, but is most likely a day drive away from Madison (Bitter Reunions). AP is a decent sized city of itself, so I can see it being an outskirt of a large city like Chicago. Lancer mentions the Northwestern Testing, and Northwestern University is in Evanston, IL, which is why I placed it where it is.

LIST OF PLACES (in great detail): 

Every city needs it’s basic services: energy supply, water supply, sewage, and trash/recycling. These of course are located more on the edge of the city, as they need a large amount of space and are typically isolated.

I placed a local airport in the city as well. Typically you would fly out of one of Chicago’s airports anyway, but private planes (Vlad, Mansons, etc.) can take off and land here. 

University of Amity Park is located at the north side of the city, and is home to a Nasty Burger location, an LGBT Center, and is probably near a gas station. The blocks surrounding the campus are more student housing. 

Near the University, we have the Science Center, Axion Labs, a Mental Institute, and the Museum, as a lot of research from the University would go into those places. 

In the more isolated areas, we have the Penitentiary, the abandoned North Mercy Hospital, and the GIW Headquarters. 

The Zoo is located on the north side of the park and is also close to the University for research purposes.

The Observatory is also located in a more isolated area, so you can actually see the stars without a bunch of light pollution.

Going into the center of town, where most things are actually located:

A community college, which is near the internet cafe where Danny and Tucker play games, a gas station, a liquor store, a thrift shop, a Planned Parenthood, Java Jive (the coffee shop), a tech store, and a gym. 

We also have a shoe store, the hunting goods store and Guitar Palace that Skulker and Ember take over in Reign Storm, the U-Ship Box Store the Box Ghost takes over, a barber and a hardware store.

There is a hair salon, tanning salon, and nail salon, where Paulina frequents. There is also Elmer’s Pharmacy, a dentist office, a law office, the TV repair store, butcher shop, and pet store (which we see next to each other in an episode), a toy store, and a vet office.

Government buildings include City Hall, a public library, a court house, a DMV, a bus station (for all mass transit in the city), a community center (likely where town halls are located and other smaller events; Ida plays bingo here every week), and a retirement home. 

There is also the post office, Amity Park Fire Department, a bank, the 24K Jewelry shop, a nearby ice cream shop, and another Nasty Burger location (this is the one right by Casper High that the trio usually hangs at). Also an animal shelter, a grocery store, and a pizza joint.

Education: there is a preschool and daycare, the elementary school, a playground/park, the middle school (yes, a Beetlejuice reference), and Casper High. Casper High campus also has the track, a fieldhouse, and the football field. 

Moving towards Amity Park Mall:

Bucky’s Music Mega Store, an apartment complex, Amity Park Police Department, a bookstore, doctor clinic, gas station, a Denny’s (where Phight Club happens), Material Grill restaurant, the mini golf course and bowling alley, Freddy Fazbear’s (which is actually a horror video game, but here it’s a kids pizza place like Chuck E. Cheese), a furniture store, a party supply store, and the movie theater (which is Marmel’s Multiplex 22, Amity Park Multiplex, and Googolplex Cinemas...it seems that they go to the same movie theater throughout the series and the names just change, or these could also be other movie theaters in the area (like near the college campus). I just picked Multiplex 22 cause it sounded very mall-y).

Along the interstate, there’s a pawn shop, a publishing house (which somehow prints all 5 of Amity Park’s newspapers), a homeless shelter, the diner, Safe House Motel, a laundromat, the 89¢ Store (a nod to Fanning the Flames), and the car dealership.

Also near the mall is Amity Arena, which hosts concerts, sports events, and other large entertainment events. There is a hotel near both the arena and the hospital (the one that isn’t abandoned and haunted). Towards the outskirts of the hospital, there’s a trailer park; north a few blocks is the TV station, where News 4 is headquartered. There’s also a construction site near Amity Arena, but that kinda went out the window when Undergrowth hit. 

On the other side of town, we have:

A-Mart, a convenience store. I named it like this because it can be like an offshoot of KMart, but A for Amity! 

Floody Waters, right off the interstate.

North of Floody Waters, East of Casper High, we have the main residences: the Foley household and only a couple blocks away is Fenton Works. 

There’s also another gas station and the Amity Park Radio Station nearby. There’s also a private school near ultra posh Polter Heights, but the A-Listers attend Casper High because the private school doesn’t have a football or cheerleading team.

Moving into Polter Heights and the surrounding area:

The Polter Heights Golf Course and Country Club are exclusive to those in the neighborhood, as well as their private neighborhood pool; members only. 

The Mayor’s Mansion (eventually Vlad’s) is located in here too.

All of the A-Listers’ houses are of course in this neighborhood, as well as Val’s previous residence and the Fenton’s temporary mansion from Living Large (which is of course right next door to Vlad, but with some distance, because the rich are always socially distancing with their big houses).

Polter Heights is adjacent to a bunch of farmland (this is the midwest, we like cows and stuff), and there is a church close by as well.

Just outside Polter Heights is the Manson Mansion (with Sam’s greenhouse). Lucky for Sam, the Skulk and Lurk Books and an occult shop are just down the street. The Manson residence is also near a funeral home and graveyard (how did Sam get so lucky? Oh, because I love her), a synagogue, Mario’s restaurant, and a dry cleaners. 

We get more spacious as we get away from the center of town! 

Along the shore of Lake Eerie, there are the docks which are home to many warehouses, including the mattress factory.

Also along the shoreline, there is a pier which doubles as an amusement park (think kinda like Navy Pier in Chicago in comparison) and alongside the pier is the public beach area. 

Camp Skull and Crossbones is located on the other side of Lake Eerie, and the fishing area is more on the north side of the lake. Lake Eerie is not one of the Great Lakes, it’s just its own thing in Amity Park. 

Back towards the park, we have event grounds space, which is where Circus Gothica is located, as well as the Meet Swap and flea market. Basically whatever rotating event hits town, it comes right here. Just next door is a theatre (for music, opera, Broadway, etc.). There is also the third and final Nasty Burger location in AP.

This is all surrounding the actual park Amity Park, which has a pond, a big fountain, and also hosts that really big hill that overlooks City Hall.

On the south side, across the bridge and over the interstate is Elmerton, where Val currently is resided. 

All the other blocks are filled with more office buildings, apartment complexes, houses, and businesses, but all of the main places are already listed and placed. 

Finally, yes, I did name some places for myself and my friends because they’re great and they deserve it. These include Steph’s (mine) Occult Shoppe, Nick’s Liquor Emporium (@ecto-american), Lexx R Us Toystore (@lexosaurus and appropriately named after the Lexxpocalypse), Laz’s Law Offices LLC (@kinglazrus), Dee’s Dentistry (@qlinq-qhost​), Lily’s Looks Thrift Store (@dannyphantomisameme​), Ceci’s Funeral Home (@ceciliaspen​), Vic’s Amusement Park (@babypop-phantom​), and Reverie Books (@wastefulreverie​). 

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers as Roommates

Intro:

So, the MC has left the Devildom and, of course, everybody is quite sad… But this time around, they have a little trick up their sleeve. With just a bit of magic (and training thanks to Solomon) the MC can now summon one of their favorite demon boys up to the human world with them! There's just, uh, one problem though… After being summoned to their side, their beloved demon now refuses to leave it.

Alright MC, enjoy your new demonic roommate!!

Lucifer

Apparently Lucifer is on sabbatical… And yes, he does appreciate that irony in that.

Lucifer actually has a surprising amount of human world money stashed away in alias accounts (because this man renting a cheap motel on business trips? Let's be real) so he uses that wealth to get them a place befitting his standards… which are high.

Spacious apartments in nice areas that would make even the upper middle-class shit their pants? Congrats, MC, that's where you're staying now!

Even with all that money, though, Lucifer CANNOT sit idle for a second. The guy is used to working all his life and just sitting around would drive him insane!

Expect him to still be running some Devildom affairs long-distance style while doing something else on the side, probably stock market stuff tbh.

Is going to want to pay for and provide everything himself but will respect the MC if they still want to work and split the bills (not to a ridiculous degree, though, like half-and-half because that would mean getting three jobs at least).

A lot of trips and vacations too, especially if the MC likes to travel. It’s a good excuse to relax while also technically doing something so he doesn’t lose his mind doing nothing in particular.

He is going to be that strict roommate who expects you not to be a slob and isn't afraid to say so. Regularly scheduled cleaning/organization days are mandatory because hygiene is important. Take some pride in yourself and wash up, MC. That kind of thing.

Also going to have short-fuse for… antics. If you want to prank him, do so at your own risk because he may prank back (and that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds, trust me.)

Mammon

Yeah so, living with Mammon is like the inverse of Lucifer. Prepare to be poooor.

Man has no human money, are you kidding me? Even if he did, he wouldn’t keep it for very long. Couples budgeting is a MUST if you’re looking to survive.

The apartment is going to be whatever the MC can more or less afford on their own with Mammon shoved in somewhere like a cheap lamp… Don’t expect a lot of room.

However, Mammon is great at the hustle. Man can work multiple jobs and actually be pretty dang good at them. For the most part, anyway. He may occasionally trip up and get himself fired, but he bounces back quick.

If the MC isn’t so moral he can also uh… “find” some extra money lying around too. Just be careful when playing with fire, right?

Even if they’re poor as shit, Mammon is still a blast to be around. The guy knows how to have fun on and off of a budget. Lots of “window shopping” (getting kicked out of stores for goofing off), nightclubs, amusement parks, and cheap fun. They’ll never be without a story to tell or a smile on their face!

He IS pretty slobbish though. He’s not going to remember to clean up after himself unless told, but he’s also not going to be bothered if they don’t do the same thing. A weekly cleaning day is going to be ideal unless they don’t mind living in a pigsty...

Prank waaaaars!! The kind of guy to get them both water guns and have a war in the middle of the apartment complex. Good luck getting any rest with Mammon around.

Leviathan 

Whelp, your room is now his room, quite literally MC. You had to pick the shut-in…

The guy isn’t exactly poor but what human money he does have is all wrapped up in his many interests… Merch interests specifically. 

Thankfully, he won’t take up too much space. Put him in a room with a desk, bed (or bathtub), TV, and computer and he’s good to go! 

He’s not going to be a complete bum, thankfully. There’s no way that they can get him to leave the apartment, but he can run small online stores (usually anime themed) or become a streamer. Probably enough to help pay the bills, but not much more.

If they don’t mind having a literally permanent housemate, then being with Levi has its own kind fun. Lots of anime marathons, movie nights, and game nights. Really, it’s just like how he was in the House, but now transported to the human world.

Is probably going to want a pet goldfish, snake ,or lizard so prepare to house Henry 3.0.

When he does leave the apartment, it’s to take the MC to conventions, concerts, or anime stores. He always manages to get just enough money for these trips, but never says where the money comes from… Best not to ask. Could be black market for they know...

… He’s a shut-in. He’s a shut-in roommate. Hygiene isn’t exactly his main concern. If they ask him to, he’ll make sure to clean up after himself, but he may need a reminder.

Can have a fun side, but just don’t mess with his stuff too much. He doesn’t need a Mammon 2.0 around too...

Satan

He's either hatching a plan for world domination or adopting 10 cats… One or the other.

About as poor as Mammon at first, but threat not. He won’t be for very long. Satan is intelligent beyond his years (or equivalent his years maybe?) so he’ll probably net himself several degrees within a couple semesters like a certified prodigy.

At that point, there really isn’t much to worry about (aside from student loans, join our pain Satan) but he can sell himself just fine and probably get some high paying job like a lawyer or doctor or whatever… I’m not jealous…

They’ll start out in a pretty modest place, but there will be upgrades fairly quickly when he starts racking it in so Satan’s a fairly decent choice as a roommate.

He does still have that nasty habit of breaking things when he’s pissed off, but that can be subverted by getting a pet! Just hold up whatever cat you own when he’s about to rampage then declare that he’s scaring/upsetting them and he’ll stop in his tracks. Works every time!

Probably going to be the most domestic out of the brothers. He enjoys cooking (and ain’t half bad at it either), shopping is a practical necessity, he’ll take care your pets like they were his own flesh and blood, etc.

There will even to be points where he’s in bed reading in the middle of the night with tea and reading glasses like some kind of grandma so take that image for what you will.

Satan is the prankster of the household, but he does his pranks more as a way to give grief to his enemies rather than for funsies. Be warned, if you poke this bear he will retaliate for sweet, sweet revenge and he has centuries worth of pranks behind him. Good luck.

Asmodeus 

It's a new party every night, sweetie, get used to it!

Asmo is the only other brother who has some amount of money to offer from his own trips to the human world, but it's just a modest amount.

Is totally willing to work to help pay for a nice place. He wants a building nice enough to host parties!

Would go back to modeling and maybe dip his toe into acting from time to time… He gets a lot of gigs (this IS the Avatar of Lust after all) so they won't be strapped for cash. Which is good, because Asmo is a very "business by day, but party every night" kind of person. 

Do know that his shopping is NOT going to slow down either. Keep an eye on the budget.

He’s also going to make friends wherever he goes so he’s going to want for them all to hang out at least somewhat regularly.

That being said, he can tone it down some if the MC so desires, just know that they can’t keep him cooped up in the apartment for too long or he’ll start getting antsy. You can’t keep this stallion locked up, MC, he needs to run free!!

Being with Asmo is going to be like having a free pass to whatever gathering the MC wants to go to, at least. He could even get them into red carpet events with just his sheer charisma, charm, and er-… “charms.” Who doesn’t want to meet their favorite actress or singer, eh?

But oh, sweetie, please don’t prank him! Life is too short to waste on silly games (he also just genuinely just doesn’t enjoy being messed with so best not do it).

Beelzebub 

Brave choice, MC, but quick question. How in the world are you going to pay your food bills???

Beel is a real sweetheart through and through but his stomach is NOT. That thing will eat them out of house and home! (Maybe even literally!!) Both of them are going to have to work and probably some pretty looong hours (cause he’s got no money either).

Honestly, Beel would be best as a personal trainer in the human world. He’s a pretty decent combination of tough but genuinely kind and motivating. (The fact that he’s pretty easy on the eyes would help out a lot too).

But the MC won’t have to worry about Beel sneaking off with someone just looking for some “quality time.” He’d take his job seriously, though he’s not particularly versed in what the human body can’t handle so only the really dedicated (or masochistic) would stick with him anyway.

“Good work last week, April! You did so well that we’re going to go from 500 pushups to a thousand! … I can see you’re worried, but I believe in you.”

But hey, he can deadlift well over 2,000 pounds without breaking a sweat so who has the balls to argue with him, anyway?

Trying out every restaurant in town would be a must. He’d even plan out vacations for them with the sole purpose of travelling the globe and tasting the different flavors. Food trips!!

He's neat enough since he used to tidy up a lot for Belphie so no need to worry about him picking up after himself (except for the occasional pile of wrappers. Toss those out unless you want ants)

I mean, you can prank Beel if you want. He'll be pretty good-natured about it as long as it stays harmless. Just don't ruin any of his food, got it?

Belphegor 

So… Belphie makes for some excellent décor! Really he is great at laying around and looking fantastic just… he’s not that great at much else...

Realistically, choosing Belphie as a roommate is kind like having a high maintenance pet. He’s good for love and cuddles, but he’s not going to be helping with the bills or anything unless they whine incessantly about it.

If the MC can make enough for the both of them, then it should be fine. They won’t get upset and he won’t be crabby but if not… Oh boy.

Regular job Belphie is a needy Belphie. He’ll come back from whatever job he’s working, likely a night shift, and demand attention or cuddles right then and there. He needs to recharge those batteries, after all...

If he isn’t working then he's at his happiest. He can even pull off being a “househusband” of sorts. He’s not going to go above and beyond the call of duty, but he can keep the place clean, get a basic meal on the table (provided someone teaches him some human recipes), and get groceries if he needs to… You know, basic domestic shit.

They’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that, at some level, Belphie just doesn’t believe in “common curtesy” or “human decency.” If some neighbors are being too noisy for his liking, he will troll them to oblivion and beyond. He may even get sued for it if he takes it too far, so the MC will have to keep an eye on him…

He’s the House’s #2 prankster, but unlike Satan he doesn’t need any malice to be a little shit. The MC will be pranked and it will be at the most unexpected times. Be warned...

Check out my Masterlist for more!

[anime-onlys]

Spring '21 anime list: What I tried, what I'm watching, and first impressions!

Shaman King (2021)

I hadn't heard about this show until the reboot was announced, and it seems neat so I'll give it a shot! Hesitation isn't quite the right word, but I am watching cautiously because there's a lot about early 2000's anime that should stay in the early 2000's. I'm prepared to take a certain amount of product-of-its-time-ness, but only so much.

I really like its unique visual style. It feels like it's got a similar vibe to Soul Eater and TWEWY with its chunky proportions and face design, and the squash-and-stretch animation really lends itself to comedic moments. I feel like there are some eminently cosplayable designs in my future.

Character-wise, it's only been one episode but I'm taking a liking to Yoh. Based on the OP I hope that Ryuu will be an early-antagonist-turned-loudmouth-friend like JJBA's Okuyasu or Sk8's Shadow. That's one of my favorite character tropes.

The World Ends With You the Animation

My friend is a huge TWEWY fan, so our group was really looking forward to this anime. I saw a little of the gameplay when the Switch version was released, up to the end of episode 1's plot. I know it's going to be excellent story wise, and I already may be planning on making cosplay of that Reaper with the skeleton hoodie.

I love a unique visual style and an awesome soundtrack, of course TWEWY already had that coming in. The CGI Noise are a little clunky, but allow for some really great fight sequences. The characters' CGI models are nearly seamless with the 2D. It feels like the plot is moving fast, but according to my friend they just skipped some fetch quests and puzzle solving that wouldn't have been interesting to animate.

I'm really looking forward to this one each week!

Dragon Goes House-Hunting

One of those "eh, we'll give it a shot" shows. A bunch of us have been eyeing real estate lately, so at the very least it's topical. If done right, the concept could be fun!

We spent most of the episode HATING the dragon's character design. Its proportions are just...awkward in every way. The neck is extremely short and thick and leads into a human-muscled torso, the arms are tiny twigs, and the legs are a little too human and a little too thick to be anything but unnerving. It's bad.

Oddly, except for the dragon, the rest of the creature designs are pretty great! In contrast to a lot of anime, they let them be really non-human and had a good design sense. The humor was solid, the Monster Hunter references were on point, and the character interactions were fun. The OP is GREAT, too!

We'll be continuing this one! If you can make your eyes stop hating you for forcing them to look at the Monster Factory reject of a dragon, I'd say give it a shot.

You Can Make A Mug Too

Now that Yuru Camp is over, we wanted another lighthearted anime that might teach us something while it's at it. You Can Make A Mug Too was one of our picks to sample because one member of anime night has recently acquired a kiln.

My impression is an approving but unenthusiastic "Fine, really." You can definitely tell it's an anime made to bring in tourism to the town it's based in. The characters don't really grab me, but they set up a solid emotional backbone for the story. The production quality isn't stunning, I was hoping for some nice pottery wheel animation but didn't get any.

It's probably a decent show, but we won't watch any more because of the next one on the list.

Supercub

Going straight from You Can Make A Mug to Supercub was like going from store-brand ice pops to fresh gelato. I can already tell this is my favorite anime of the season, hands down.

First, the production quality is excellent. The backgrounds are beautiful, the score is understated but well done to the point that Debussey's Clair de Lune felt like it had been made for the scene it was used for.

More than the production quality alone, this anime's direction is exceptional. It takes 'show don't tell' and uses it perfectly, using body language and soundtrack and shot composition to communicate as much or more than the sparse dialogue. Like, they made my heart skip a beat with nothing but color grading. THAT kind of exceptional.

I haven't spoken much about the plot because I really have no idea where it's going to go. Will we fill in why Koguma is so alone, or will we only move forward to seeing her connect? Will the past of that Supercub come back to haunt her? This feels like an anime that can and will absolutely wreck me, but at the starting line all I can say is I'm READY.

If you only watch one thing this season, watch Supercub.

Continuing anime:

My Hero Academia Season 5:

This season is interesting because for the first time, I think I'm going into it with almost zero spoilers (Dabi's real name is the only one I have). The only plot spoiler I thought I had, that Hawks was somehow working with the League of Villains, was revealed at the end of episode 1. I really enjoy going into things blind so I'm looking forward to this season!

However, the OP is the most disappointing thing out there. Nothing about the song, animation or composition is memorable or even noteworthy. Bones and MHA have access to all the money and talent in the industry and they best they can do is "Fine, I guess".

Yuukoku no Moriarty season 2 (Split cour):

I really enjoyed Moriarty's first season, but the second part of a split-cour always has the risk of running off the rails. What I enjoyed most about the first cour was the reverse-whodunit formula: Here's a terrible noble and the people they hurt, how does Moriarty get rid of them while making it look like an accident? The end of cour 1 started to focus heavily on Sherlock and I don't want the show's namesake to end up sidelined.

Knowing Irene was coming, I was really hoping for a Scandal in Belgravia that follows the books...at all, where the end of the story is that Irene escapes with the photo (except this time aided by the Moriarty brothers). Few or no Sherlock adaptations actually want to engage with the sexism of the era or today's, and just want to paint her as a blackmailer or temptress instead of a woman holding onto the power to protect herself. The beginning was extremely promising, but that went off the rails pretty quick. I still haven't yet seen an adaptation of Irene Adler that I like.

Zombieland Saga: Revenge

I watch this show because it's fun and ridiculous, and I get to hear Mamoru Miyano having the time of his life in the recording booth. I love this show because it always ends up surprising me with its solid emotional backbone. It looks like this season is shaping up to be more of the same!

What blew me away was this episode was the first time I saw a CGI dance sequence that I LIKED. Ever. The characters used different mocap so they weren't eerily in sync, the song and dance itself was well made and supported by excellent camera direction and shot composition, there were 2D cuts to closeups of the dancers as well as audience, and they actually pushed facial expression!

It's a good time. Give it a shot.

[periminkle]

Orphic | 03

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 8.0k

rating: pg-15

warnings: swearing, people throwing up, death, mentions of harming test subjects, ANIMAL ABUSE

author’s note: hahaha no it hasn’t been almost a month since i uploaded the last chapter, what are you talking about ?? this was also supposed to be the second half of chapter two before i got carried away and added an extra 8k to it,,, anyway eNJOY

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A few days had passed since word broke of Taemin’s death. With his absence, there was a substantial lack of cells to study, thus granting loads of free time to brood over said jaguar cub.

Knowing he would eventually leave prepared me for a mild episode of dejection, but nothing could compare to the aching gap left from his passing. Despite having known the little guy for only a short month or so, he was my stress reliever, coaxing a tender smiles after a day’s worth of drudgery with his endearing behaviour. He was the spark that fuelled my growing bond with the only decent people I could find here.

Moreover, he spent the last couple months of his life caged, muzzled and treated atrociously, as if he was the beast. I pushed back tears for the umpteenth time.

My head jerked backwards as a tissue was abruptly shoved in my face. “Do you want me to get another box?” Yoongi’s rough voice permeated the sniffles I tried to hold back and I buried my face deep into my arms, closing my eyes and trying to even out my staggered breath.

In my grief I pushed everyone away, disgusted with even my own lack of ability to protect the one faultless being that was ripped out of my grasp much too soon. Bereavement blinded me, leaving me unable to distinguish friend from foe and as a result, I cast them all out.

Unknowingly, I reverted to the mindset that I had hoped to leave behind in the city, where there was no one to turn to when everything spiralled out of control. Blaming others for my own shortcomings opened my eyes to just how cowardly I was, losing myself in a labyrinth of my own self-loathing.

It was lonesome, to say the least.

But they’d never left my side, much to my initial displeasure. Either Namjoon or Yoongi constantly shadowed my inhospitable self, from the office to the lab tables, going as far as waiting outside the bathrooms for me. I angrily confronted each one about the evident stalking on numerous occasions, yet Namjoon would insist that he was worried about my well-being and Yoongi claimed he was simply headed the same way.

By the second day, I caught on to their schedule of routinely swapping babysitting duties at around the second and third hour mark. I attempted to find some respite and solace by escaping to the break room once, when I knew both assistants had already taken their respective time off for the day. Foolishly, I believed that I’d finally evaded the duo’s clingy tactics. 

However, before I could bask in my newfound solitude, Jin’s lethargic form made an appearance. True to his overbearing, fatherly instincts, he placed a homemade sandwich on the coffee table in front of me and lectured me on skipping meals.

Even without acknowledging my mistreatment towards them lately, I knew the three of them were empathetic enough to chalk it up to my process of mourning. Nonetheless, the immeasurable guilt I felt had accumulated over the abundance of time I had to reflect on my actions. Enough hours had been allotted to sulking and after a full day’s worth of encouraging, internal pep talks, I mustered up the courage to put effort towards amending my wrongdoings.

The screech of wheels rolling against the smooth tiles of the floor elicited the roll of his name off my lips. “Yoongs.” Intrigued by the lack of a hostile tone present in my voice, I felt his gaze flit to my hunched frame. The fact that I didn’t even have to lift my head to feel his eyes softening at the vexing nickname stuck a fresh layer of shame to my skin. “’M sorry.”

With my face practically burrowed into the sleeve of my lab coat, the apology came out muffled and barely audible, though I was met with the thoughtful, low timbre of Yoongi’s hum. “And, I know it’s no excuse, but everything has just been a lot lately.”

Regardless of my verbal atonement, the blonde man continued on his path out of the office, evident by the creak of his weight shifting off the chair and the following footsteps that drifted farther away.

I belatedly lifted the heavy weight of my head off of my arms, vacantly staring at the doorway that Yoongi had just passed through. Before I knew it, his unusually lively form lumbered back inside, two brightly patterned tissue boxes in hand. “What a crybaby.”

The corners of my lips tugged upwards for the first time in the past few days. It was a welcome development.

One down, two more to go.

With a single reconciliation under my belt, repeating the same process with Namjoon went a lot smoother than expected. I sought him out after my healthy banter with Yoongi ceased, eager to successively rectify all the relationships I’d bruised. “Don’t stress about it; honestly we deserve a cold shoulder for the trouble we’ve caused you. Yoongi probably depleted over half your stash of beer all on his own.”

The drinking tolerance of those boys was well beyond my comprehension. Although my house was completely out of the way home for all of them, I could only assume that it was sheer obstinacy impelling them to commonly stop by my house to wind down after a typically harsh day.

Lifting my head from the microscope that held samples of Doshik’s DNA, the resident blue tang speedily running laps in the tank, I peeked over at Namjoon’s dark hair, ruffled from the strap of his goggles. “I don’t mind. All I’m saying is that if I ever run out of stock, you guys are going to have to bring your own drinks.”

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be like that. Restocking your liquor every once in a while is nothing compared to our company right?” The appearance of his endearing dimples brought me back to the times I magically woke up in my bed after drinking my problems away with them the night before, the days they sent me home early because I yawned one too many times or all the snacks I strangely picked out of my bag ever so often.

I raised one teasing brow, crossing my arms and leaning back in the incommodious, metal chair. “Once in a while? With the rate that you guys are going, I would have to go to the store every other day.”

“Like I said, mainly Yoongi’s fault.” His deft fingers switched to a higher lens before continuing, “But really, you’ve got to confide in us, alright? I think we’re past the stage of ‘I want nothing to do with you when my shift is over.’”

It seemed like another weight had been lifted off my shoulders from the unexpected, forgiving nature of both men despite having every reason to be peeved at my churlish attitude as of late. Before I could formulate a response, Namjoon added, “Are you feeling better?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to his question when I was just as clueless about my own welfare. But, I disregarded the notion of lying or concealing anything from them, as they’d relentlessly proven their loyalty and concern for me on more than one occasion.

“I’m not sure yet, Joon. I think I need some more time.” I covertly swapped out my microscope slide for the one sitting next to the unsuspecting man, intent on decreasing his workload, even if only by the slightest bit. “I’m glad that I have you guys, though. Thanks for dealing with my grumpy ass.”

I couldn’t help the curve in my lips when his impish gaze finally met mine, evidently content with my candour. “To be honest with you, Yoongi told me about your apology, so I was kind of expecting it.”

My jaw dropped in betrayal. “He told you?”

“Mhm, said that you could practically refill Doshik’s tank with the amount of tears you shed.”

“Wha—how could he, this guy!” Contrary to the clear exasperation in my tone, a wide grin revealed my true feelings. “Then he says that Jin exaggerates all his stories.”

A hearty chuckle escaped him. “Well, at least we know where Yeri got it from. Do you remember the last time she came to the lab?” I couldn’t repress my own chortle at the memory, the onslaught of laughter provoking a sudden cramp in my stomach that I uselessly pressed my palm against, attempting to quell the overactive muscles. “She swindled me out of twenty bucks by crying about Jin throwing out all of her toys!”  

With a flaming red flush to my cheeks, I struggled to get a sentence past my quivering lips. “You can’t even blame the kid,” I temporarily regained my breath and continued, “you’re just too gullible.”

“Hey!” He pouted at the remark, jabbing a gloved digit into my side as a form of retaliation. The blow to my ribs induced a high-pitched squeak out of me and my hand darted to the sore spot in an attempt to block any further attacks. “Have you ever been on the end of those puppy dog eyes? You can’t just do nothing, it’s basically witchcraft.”

“Yes, yes, Jin taught her too well.” I attempted to placate the threatening fingers that hung in the air, poised for another stab if need be.

Namjoon bobbed his head in agreement, seemingly pleased with my answer as brought his attention back to the chromosomes in front of him. “Have you had time to go see him?”

“Ah, no, not yet. He’s the last one I have to pour my soul out to.”

In the comfortable silence that ensued, I found myself recalling the vile confrontation from a few days back. Truth be told, my mind regularly drifted to Hyunho’s harsh words whenever an empty lull emerged within my headspace, which was the exact reason I enjoyed keeping myself occupied as of late. The echo of the wretched man declaring Taemin’s passing was the predominant focus of my flashbacks, but a particular fragment of the rest of his spiel stuck out to me as well—the mention of a tiger cub. “Hey, Joon?”

No doubt noticing the change in my tone, Namjoon fixed his stare on my fragile countenance once more, holding my gaze. Only then did I realize that I was unconsciously craving the sincere reassurance locked away beneath those brown specks, similar to a wailing newborn falling silent at being held in its mother’s embrace.

“Did you know?” The question spilled from my lips before I could process it.

Even with the lack of context, the adept assistant instantly shook his head. “No. No, I didn’t.” My gut twisted as he redirected his stare, trapping his lower lip between his unforgiving teeth in thought. “I still don’t really know. I’ve heard bits and pieces from some gossiping researchers that talk too loud, but I haven’t gotten enough to piece everything together. Hoseok said that they recently found the test subject they’d lost a while ago.”

Sincerity undoubtedly rang within each syllable of Namjoon’s voice. After a speedy internal debate, I unloaded all the horrendous secrets that I’d uncovered, from the initial suspicion I harboured to the folder in Jin’s office, and finally to the mutated PDE6C gene. The hardly intelligible speech all raged past my lips much like word vomit and my knee began to briskly bounce up and down from the massive influx of emotions.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Namjoon said softly, stretching one lengthy limb out to rub soothing circles onto my back. “Let’s go slow, hm?”

I concentrated on the gentle touch that now rested on my shoulder, schooling my breath before continuing, “I need to help them. I can’t stand around, watching Hyunho and Minzi do whatever they want with no repercussions. These are lives they’re ruining.” Feeling myself getting heated again, I twiddled the tips of my fingers to keep my head level and busy. “It’s not just about Taemin anymore, think about it. This can’t be the first time a lab animal has been ‘tested on’ and died of ‘natural causes’ or whatever excuses they’ve been using.”

I didn’t catch the recognition flashing in Namjoon’s eyes, but his silence drove me to release the thoughts that had been stewing around my conscience for a while now. “Hyunho said that they’re bringing in a new cub right? We can’t let the same thing happen to him. We have to protect the animals in this lab, Joon.”

“I know how you feel, but there isn’t much we can do when they take the animals away to perform their tests.” As he saw me open my mouth to butt in, he interjected, “Trust me, we’ve tried. I’m pretty sure that the only reason we’re still around is because Jin keeps vying for us despite all the ruckus we’ve made.”

“We can’t just sit around and do nothing though! Have you been in the break room lately? Have you heard their screams? Joon, there’s something in there. Even now, they’re probably torturing some poor, undeserving animal.” In my determination, I grabbed the lapels of Namjoon’s pristine, white lab coat. “We have to save it.”

“We don’t even have a key card, Y/N,” Namjoon protested, his tone of voice still low and gentle, imploring me to understand the more rational side of the nonsense I was spewing. “And even if we did, the second we barge in there the cameras will spot us and we’ll be fired immediately. No matter how persuasive Jin can be, he won’t be able to save us from that. Then there’s really going to be nothing we can do to help them.” He hung his head in resignation. “At least we can make their last days somewhat enjoyable. At least from here we can wait for an opening, a chance for us to catch them in the act when they inevitably slip up one day.”

My brows pulled upwards in my distress, bringing my head closer in an attempt for Namjoon to see my desperation. “And how long is that going to take? Weeks? Months? Years? When do we put our foot down?”

His features softened and I already knew that I wouldn’t like whatever he was going to say next. “If we don’t act logically, we won’t be able to save anything.”

My jaw clenched, but I knew he had a point. 

A sigh escaped his distraught form. “Go eat something and cool your head. We’ll talk more when you get back.”

In my defence, I had made my way to the break room like Namjoon suggested, nearly settling down with one of the many homemade sandwiches Jin left in the fridge—but not even five minutes passed before torturous whimpers of pain filled my ears. The pile of carbohydrates in front of me suddenly didn’t seem quite as appetizing.

In order to restrain my impulsive self from further digging my own grave, I mercilessly gnawed away at my lip, repeating Namjoon’s warnings like a sacred mantra in my head. When the dull taste of metal hit my tongue, I quickly placed the meal back where I found it and scurried out of the agonizing space as fast as my legs would carry me.

Rather than providing relief though, I found that every step weighed heavier than the next. I felt the toll both physically and emotionally. No matter how much distance I put between myself and the tormented creature, I wasn’t able to escape the distressed cries that echoed throughout my skull, perpetually bounding from one end to another. 

My plan was to drown out any nonsensical thoughts with the lengthy sequence to Doshik’s yellow tail.

However, it was foolish to believe that I would be able to concentrate on the chromosomes in the petri dish. I couldn’t focus on properly setting up the gel electrophoresis, forgetting to dig out small wells in the agarose gel and even incorrectly attaching each end of the power source, mixing up the spots for the cathode and anode. At this point, I had to restart the whole project.

My annoyance was made vocal by the groan of frustration slipping past my mouth, though there wasn’t anyone around to witness my theoretical fall into insanity. After a few beats, attributable to the pads of my gloved fingers drumming against the lab bench, I gave in to my curiosity and concern.

I wish I hadn’t.

A quick search on the computer in Namjoon and Yoongi’s office brought up the history of the animals that had been kept at this laboratory at one point in time or another. I was revolted at the sheer number of predators who had spent their last breath here.

Dread filled my gut at the upcoming arrival of the tiger cub. I knew I could no longer heed Namjoon’s words, no matter how sensible and pragmatic they were in comparison to my own faulty logic. But to tune it all out, live in ignorance and deal with countless other innocent mammals meeting the same tragic fate as Taemin—no, I would protect anything within my reach, no matter the cost.

Although I could never fight off all the monsters of this world, I hoped to have enough power to at least change one innocent being’s life.

And that would start with whatever they’d hidden away upstairs.

With this new mission in mind, my once empty days became filled to the brim with organizing a brilliant plot, often sacrificing hours of my sleep to continue planning and ensuring every aspect was foolproof. It took self-restraint that I wasn’t aware I was capable of in order to not burst in behind Minzi whenever she threw that smug smile at me before entering with her keycard; though I knew that plan wasn’t beneficial to the animal inside. Hence, I clenched my fists and dug the soles of my runners deeper into the ground whenever I thought of it’s tortured wails.

Just a little longer.

Despite familiarizing myself with the tone of the screeches that constantly resonated in my mind, I still couldn’t place the species the groans belonged to. It didn’t necessarily matter, but I was starting to run on the blind hope that they would be similar in size to Taemin, who I could easily carry in my grasp. In case, I also hid one of the carts used around the lab to transport loads of spot plates and test tubes, emptying it of all equipment and sanitizing the sides in case of any lingering, harmful chemicals.

After many long, strenuous hours of devising strategies and avoiding suspicious eyes, the day of the crime was finally upon me. Throughout the day, I used my precise notes to shift the angle of each camera slightly when I found myself alone, just so I could sneak past without showing up in frame. 

I even headed upstairs to finally visit Jin, not having found the chance to properly apologize to him yet. The opportunity wasn’t wasted though, as I scoped out the cameras in the dim hall and nudged them over to the side as well. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to deal with those inside the torture chamber itself, but I would cross that hurdle when it came down to it.

Hopefully, the all-black guise I prepared would cover any distinguishable features amidst the shadows of the night.

I was nearing the end of my extensive plan, the only step remaining being the act of acquiring a key card, grimacing as I thought about resorting to the horrible decision of swiping that which belonged to Jin. Ironic, really, considering that the whole reason I was going to see him was to atone for my previous behaviour, yet I was planning to nab his keycard within the same breath. 

That aspect of my plot was at a standstill, as I’d never gotten a glimpse of said object in Jin’s office or on his person. I was stumped, beginning to believe that he didn’t have access to the lab upstairs. But his position as assistant director must surely give him such privileges, right?

As I was about to enter Jin’s office, prepared to snoop around a bit with the excuse of looking for Doshik’s file for concerns about his unusual allergy to something within the tank’s water, I spotted Eunmi, the snotty receptionist, striding past my frozen form. 

She plucked the notorious keycard out from an inside pocket near her chest, holding it against the reader as my eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. Unperturbed by my blatant shock, she adjusted the pile of folders squeezed within her hold and strolled in.

A huge grin split across my face as I formulated my next steps. Instead of carrying on to my original destination, I changed my route to head off to the front entrance, patiently waiting for Eunmi’s return. I could push off Jin’s apology for a little later.

After about half an hour had passed, I spotted Eunmi gracefully slide back behind the towering desk, which concealed everything but the crown of her head. The loud clicking of the keyboard filled the silence.

Typical.

“Ah, Eunmi!” I briskly walked towards her, meeting those sharp eyes for a fraction of a second before they flickered back to the monitor in front of her. “I don’t see you around very often, how have you been lately?”

“Cut the small talk newbie, I’ve got work to do,” she sneered.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to allow her words to affect my deceptive, cheery disposition as I asked, “I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me tonight? Y’know, since I’ve been here a couple weeks and we haven’t gotten a chance to know each other yet!”

“Sorry, too busy,” Eunmi asserted, flicking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her shoulder. It seemed to be one of her many annoying habits that ticked me off.

Slapping my flattened palm against the shiny surface of the desk, I leaned back slightly and threw out my bait. “Ah, that’s too bad. I wanted to treat you out tonight, but I guess you’ve got too much work, huh...”

Hook.

She hummed in thought. “Time and place?”

Line.

“Bar two blocks away, eight-thirty?”

Eunmi raised a single, defined brow. “Nine. Your treat?”

I confirmed with a nod as her lips curled, displaying a pink lipstick mark on her front tooth.

Sinker.

Precisely a quarter before nine, the gentle creak of wood followed the twist of the doorknob to the assistant researchers’ lab. Jin’s drooping countenance peeked through the crack he created, fixating a mock glare on my busy hands. “That’s enough, Y/N. You can pick it up tomorrow.”

Despite the multitude of gel electrophoresis equipment scattered around me from the past few hours spent slaving away, most of that time was allocated to finalizing the nitty-gritty details for tonight. Honestly, analyzing DNA became second nature to me by now, creating space within my mind to freely cogitate due to the lack of deliberation the task required.

I swivelled around in Yoongi’s chair, facing the evidently fatigued man. “I’m almost done with this sequence though, give me ten?”

He let loose an excessive groan of frustration at being unable to retire for the day, tousling his unkempt locks before collapsing on the worn down bench in front of Namjoon’s desk. I hummed a catchy melody as I continued to scribble down the results from each experiment.

“Now that I have you all to myself,” I gingerly began, stealing a glance at Jin’s unmoving form, “I wanted to properly apologize for everything.”

He raised his arms to cushion his skull against the tough surface, which I took as a sign to continue. “Yoongi might have already told you about my poor attempts to make amends with everyone and I haven’t had the opportunity to sit down with you yet so,” I paused, taking a second to inhale and gather my thoughts, “better late than never, right?

“I shouldn’t have turned my back on you guys when all you do is look out for me,” I sincerely confessed. “I guess I took advantage of how comfortable I felt around you, but I realize that it was unacceptable to treat you as my friend when we’re at work and you’re acting as my boss. I crossed a line and I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to conduct myself accordingly at work.”

A few minutes of devastating silence trickled by. My mind was whirring with all the possibilities of Jin’s next actions; whether he would flip out and rage, simply march back out the door or if he’d fallen asleep and hadn’t heard a word I said. Unsurprisingly, when I turned around I was met with the tranquil sight of Jin’s relaxed frame, soft snores circulating in the office.

I swerved over to him, the squeak of the old chair screeching horribly against the tiles of the floor. “Hey, Jin. How about you go home and I’ll make sure to lock up, hm?”

His eyes fluttered open into slits and I could see the gears whirring in his half-conscious state. To seal the deal, I threw out a cheeky smile; one that I knew he couldn’t resist. “Alright, fine. You just,” he was interrupted by a hefty yawn overtaking his speech, “you just need to lock this door and the main entrance. Everything else is already taken care of.”

My eyes lit up at the sight of his keys and I let out a hum in acknowledgement at his instructions, attempting to curb any suspicion.

Jin’s tall stature towered over me when he pushed off on the balls of his feet, standing up to his full height. “And you didn’t need to apologize, Y/N.” My jaw went slack at his confession of having heard my whole spiel and I had to strain my ears in order to pick up the quiet mumble of, “I should be the one begging for forgiveness anyway.”

Before I had the chance to process his words, much less time to compose a well-thought-out response, he brushed past me and discarded the shiny metal on top of my pad of paper. The revving of a car engine came to life, headlights beaming through the window to the left as he sped away.

Although I could have spent much too long trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind Jin’s bewildering statement, the clock was ticking. Ten minutes remained to clean everything up, change outfits, lock both the office and the front door, then book it to the bar.

Prancing through the flashy entrance with mere seconds to spare, I registered the reality that I might have missed a minute detail in my intricate scheme. Whereas the individuals loitering around appeared as though they’d just come from a fashion show, I felt severely underdressed in the tight jeans and oversized sweater I’d worn to work that morning. 

The place was relatively empty, seeing as the night had yet to begin. Nevertheless, I made my way over to the bar stools where I saw Eunmi with a glass in her hand. 

“Eunmi!” After a closer look, I took in the wine coloured body-con she slipped on, complimenting her dyed hair well. But from the forced smile she plastered on, I could tell she hadn’t discovered that lipstick mark from earlier.

“You didn’t go home and change?” She pointed out once I was within earshot, her awkward grin morphing into her mundane scowl. Oddly, I felt more at ease with her evident displeasure than her amiable facade. 

I glanced down at my attire with a slight shrug and pretended to dust off non-existent wrinkles. 

“Tonight’s on you, so let’s start off strong, hm?” If the stench wafting off from her breath was anything to go by, I presumed that she commenced her own pregame at home before arriving. She waved the bartender over, “Two shots.”

He flashed a greasy smile and a nod our way before beginning on our drinks.

“So,” I tried to initiate conversation that hopefully didn’t come off as awkward as I felt, “how’s the pro—”

“Nope, we’re not talking about work here.” Eunmi turned her chin up, rolling her eyes at my apparent nonsense. “I don’t wanna think about that shit hole more than I already have to.”

It was difficult to remain civil in the face of the obvious contempt she harboured in her voice, although I bobbed my head to convey my consent anyway. While racking my brain for any other topics to touch on, I came to the realization that I’d never properly interacted with the surly woman seated beside me; other than asking for directions on the first week and extending a greeting that was rarely reciprocated, I only knew her name and that she enjoyed clicking away on her noisy keyboard for the majority of her days.

Swooping in to the save the definite lull in the discourse, the round-eyed bartender slid over the shots. Eunmi, shockingly, downed the drink as soon as it came into her grasp. In an effort to appear as amiable as possible for the sake of the overarching strategy, I rushed to follow. The abrupt grip on my forearm halted any movement though.

“But, I will say,” Eunmi confidently boomed, puffing her chest and slapping one outstretched palm on the table. If the irked stares the other patrons were giving us right now were enough to kill, I was certain that we’d be ash by now with her outrageous volume overpowering the dull beat of the music. “I am way overworked considering what my job description actually entails. The place wouldn’t even be able to run without me!”

My brow creased as I toned down my own voice in the hopes that she would get the hint. “Oh, uh, of course! And, uh... just as a refresher, how have you been helping out lately again?” Honestly, with the lack of visitors to the lab, assistants having to prepare samples and write reports, Eunmi’s role within the lab puzzled me greatly.

“What haven’t I been doing is probably the better question to ask!” She haughtily spat out, swiping my glass and chugging the liquid down her—most likely burning—throat. Even the narrow glare courtesy of the bartender himself couldn’t stop her from slamming the empty glass on the counter. I smiled apologetically. “I mean, from delivering J3’s documents to manning all the receptionist duties, I wonder what miss Minzi is doing exactly!”

Naturally, my head tilted in curiosity at the unfamiliar name. “J3?”

“I keep telling them; ‘he’s too dangerous’, ‘if he gets out again we’re really in for it’, but who’s about to listen to the too-brilliant-for-her-own-good receptionist? This is exactly how those stupid characters in the horror movies die; they don’t listen to the smart one!” With each argument, her unstable torso swayed back and forth, threatening to completely topple off the barstool a number of times. I placed a hand at her waist in an attempt to keep her upright, although she, very dramatically, slapped it away.

Undeterred by the aggression, I leaned in closer with widened eyes. “Mhm, but I would listen to you, Eunmi. What exactly is J3 though?” I prayed to any higher power that she was too intoxicated to pick up on how desperate I came off in prodding her for information.

She scoffed, “You don’t actually think I’m that dumb, do you?” Her face reared closer to my own, merely centimetres apart at this point, eyes burning holes into my soul and the stench of tequila thick on her breath. “I know what you’re trying to do here, inviting me out to get wasted, even going as far as to pay for it all.”

Panic rose as I nervously chuckled, eyes darting. “I don’t know what you’re getting at?” To relieve some of the perspiration building in my palms, I nabbed the freezing water that remained untouched in front of Eunmi—not so subtly placed there by the bartender.

Licking her lips, she arrogantly leaned back with a cocky smirk plastered across her countenance, “You want to get in my pants.”

Any remaining liquid in my mouth grotesquely flew into the air.

“It’s okay, no need to be embarrassed that I connected the dots. I mean, a lot of people have been in your shoes.” Eunmi expressed, flicking a stray strand away from her forehead. “But I just don’t see you that way.” The look of sympathy she attempted to exude didn’t sit well with me, although I didn’t know whether it was because I could trace where her eyes were drifting to—another drunk guy who’d ripped his shirt off and began spinning the fabric around as if he was some kind of helicopter—or that anything less than hostile was strange look on her.

I was still pondering on whether it was a blessing or a curse that she misinterpreted my intentions so horridly because after downing a couple more shots and a cocktail to top it all off, Eunmi was thoroughly convinced that I was harbouring some intense feelings.

The second time she swiped her pink tongue across her lips, she gracelessly clambered off the barstool. “Don’t worry about it too much; it’s not you, it’s me,” Eunmi drawled out, pointing a well manicured finger to her chest. “It just wouldn’t be fair to you, having to stand next to me all the time when everyone knows there’s absolutely no competition.”

I didn’t realize how many people had entered the club since we’d arrived and I reached out to grab Eunmi’s wrist again, worried at the way she was stumbling away from me. Even though she was a bit of a lousy woman, I wasn’t heartless enough to have Eunmi fend for herself in a pool of sharks, especially when she was heavily intoxicated.

My attempts to restrain her were futile though, as she squirmed away while eyeing the man from before, who had scrambled onto the top of a table and sensually moved his hips to the beat.

“Ooh, I do see something worth banging toni—”

And down she fell.

As I reached over to aid the inebriated receptionist, lifting by her exposed upper arms while wondering just how much alcohol she consumed prior to her arrival. Coming in contact with the unexpectedly damp, sweaty skin impelled me to cringe away from the unpleasant sensation, but I resisted temptation to turn tail and duck out of there for the sake of my goal. 

Eunmi’s whines complaining that she was fine and endeavours to wriggle out of my loose hold only served to further thin my nearly non-existent patience. At this point, I had to conserve as much energy as I could for later on, not expend it all to take care of a toddler that couldn’t seem to stand on her on two feet.

When Eunmi’s visage faded into sickly green shade, I hurriedly yanked her limp body over to the unusually vacant washrooms. Out of seemingly nowhere, another sobbing, disheveled girl wriggled out from beneath the sink, evidently having thrown up there as well. As my nose scrunched up at the fishy odor, the stranger crawled over to Eunmi’s side by the toilet, gently patting her back and cooing at the similar, dreadful state the two were in.

While her focus was on aiming her regurgitation into the toilet, all her efforts in vain with the sheer amount of vomit surrounding her, I took the opportunity to file through her shimmering purse that I held in my clutch. I rummaged around to quickly find the key card, slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans, thankful that despite the change in outfit, she brought along the same bag that she had left work with. 

“Eunmi, I think we should head home now,” I suggested, mildly concerned about her ability to breathe due to her continuous retching. Without waiting for a response, I began dialling the number for a cab.

After she finished emptying all the contents of her stomach and my wallet felt noticeably lighter than when I came in, I detached the weeping girls from one another and took hold of Eunmi’s underarms, dragging her past the dancing masses and plopping her down at the entrance.

“I get that you had a rough day,” I huffed out, taking a seat on a misplaced block of cement, “but did you really have to get so wasted?”

Streaks of her dark mascara decorated her cheeks from her bawling session, swollen eyes staring off into the distance. “Might as well enjoy myself before J3 finally rips my throat out.”

My brows knitted together at the repeated mention of the name, although I wasn’t able to dwell on it for long because I was soon blinded by a pair of bright headlights beaming from a vehicle painted in a distasteful mustard shade. The cab pulled up to the curb and I somehow managed to shove Eunmi into the backseat, forking over another wad of cash as I encouraged her to mumble out an address.

The car sped away and the lingering breeze grounded me, steeling my resolve despite the wet drops spattering onto the sidewalk. It seemed as though even the weather was attempting to foil my immaculate plans and I silently cursed my past self for failing to check the forecast ahead of time.

Deep down, even the possibility of having to endure another day acting clueless to the torment transpiring within my own workplace terrified me. Not even hard-headed Namjoon could deter my unwavering will at this point.

I jogged back to the lab as quickly as my fatigued legs allowed, predictably drained from hauling another person. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was the only tangible factor keeping me going and luckily, powering through the skittish apprehension gripping my mind.

Once the spotless exterior of the lab came into view, I began scouring through the bulky tote bag I lugged around everywhere. My hand ran across a smooth length that I failed to recognize, pulling it out to identify the unknown object. A miniature fishing rod decorated in vibrant red accents emerged.

The toy I bought for Taemin.

Clenching my fist around the rod, determined to save them this time.

Driven now more than ever, I located the keys that Jin entrusted me with earlier, twisting the lock open and slinking inside. The door creaked eerily behind me as I scanned the tenebrous entrance. 

Refraining from switching on the lights, I relied on my muscle memory to sneak off to the changing room and donned the black guise in my locker. I secured a cap on top of my head before creeping up the stairs.

With the staircase enshrouded in darkness, I was forced onto my hands and knees to carefully navigate myself; I tried not to think about how pathetic I looked at the moment.

My hands trembled in the face of the obstacle I had envisioned barging through countless times—and now, I was presented with that very opportunity on a golden platter. Well, with more lying, drunken antics and conniving than intended, but none of that was important in the grand scheme of things.

Taking hold of the key card and pressing it firmly against the reader, the ruby glow blinked green. Success.

I took a tenuous inhale and an even shakier exhale before heading in. Considering the lack of windows, the complete darkness that enveloped the room was expected; hence the downwards tilt of my head and slight adjustment of my cap as I begrudgingly flicked the light switch beside the doorway. Immediately, I covertly surveyed the ceiling for any cameras that could be covered or nudged out of sight.

Oddly enough, none were fixed up there nor were they scattered along the walls. I wearily stepped deeper inside, elated yet distrustful all the same. The number of cameras I passed on the way here was more than I could count on both hands, so I couldn’t imagine they wouldn’t want a single, watchful eye in here.

Just what kind of experiment were they performing here?

Relenting in my inspection, my attention wandered to the middle of the rectangular room. There, on what looked to be a decrepit operating table, laid a human body.

Well, sort of human.

The lack of movement on the other end prompted me to draw in closer, examining the man. I was bewildered at the jet black ears that stood atop the crown of his head, poking out through his dark locks. Hesitantly, I stretched a hand out and tugged on one, watching his face for any sign of cognizance. My heart rate sped up at the confirmation that they were indeed attached to his skull and were undeniably soft to boot.

Examining the rest of his body, which was clad in simply a pair of boxers, I spotted a similar pitch black coloured tail resting beside his left leg. Although I resisted the urge to check if that was real as well, since I was sure that if he was anything like his animal counterpart he wouldn’t take well to the idea of a sudden jerk on his tail. 

I couldn’t help but run my digits along the length of the fur, pleased to find that it was just as fluffy as his ear. The longer I stared, the more confusion swarmed my head. The pads of my index and middle finger came up to rub at my temple, unsure of what I was observing.

Were they trying to fuse the DNA of a human and—

A sudden, horrifying connection fired off in my head, making my heart drop to my gut as I examined the rest of the room. I pleaded for my assumption to be incorrect, just a figment of my bereaved brain.

Resting on the floor in one corner of the room was a sheet, draped upon an indistinguishable object. With bated breath, I staggered over to the lump and pinched the fabric, lifting the sheet off and uncovering what lay beneath.

Taemin.

My chest tightened and I felt claustrophobic in the spacious room, as if the walls were closing in and I could no longer afford the luxury of a breath. Salty tears welled up, slipping down my cheeks as I quietly wailed, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Through the blurry haze, my gaze travelled along his tiny body that was missing patches of fur, making parts of his pale, bruised skin visible. Another sob wracked through my body as I looked to his face and met a pair of dull, emerald green eyes; they were devoid of life, staring aimlessly at the wall. They didn’t even have the decency to lower his eyelids.

Instead of shock, a sort of numbness filled me—which was a thousand times more terrifying. I longed for the rich emotion that blazed through every orifice of my body, anything other than the apathetic desolation that halted my waterworks.

With one last glance, I shut his eyes and allowed the muscles to remain in their relaxed position. My heart yearned to give him some semblance of a proper burial, although I reminded myself that his young, playful spirit no longer occupied this empty carcass. After smoothing my palm over the side of his head and giving my final goodbyes, I covered his unmoving form once again.

I used the corner of my sleeve to wipe away any evidence of my anguish and turned my attention back to the man on the table. At the very least, I would save one life tonight.

Upon further inspection, I noted the chains cuffing his limbs to the table, which made me wonder about the threat he might pose if released—something I hadn’t taken into account. A quick scan of the room gave no clues as to anything that could free him, prompting me to forage through the few lab benches scattered around.

The mess of papers, test tubes and syringes made it difficult to locate anything, I doubted if even the head researchers could rifle through this mess to uncover something of use. A common theme among all the stacks I came across was the name, J3, scrawled across each of them; the familiar name that Eunmi brought up earlier that night piqued my interest. But, I stuck to the mission at hand, stressed from being on borrowed time.

Irritation settled into my features with each tick of the clock, coming up empty at the bottom of each bench I scoured. Through pure coincidence, I made out the gentle skitter of metal bouncing across the floor after making contact with the front of my sneaker. I grinned and scooped up a key

After stumbling back over to the table, I scrutinized his distinct features, defined brows resting above his closed eyes, enhanced by thick lashes. Travelling over his high cheekbones and down the slope of his nose, I inspected his thin lips complimented by the tiny mole underneath and framed by a strong jawline. I found his countenance oddly familiar, as though I’d seen him somewhere befo—

A hollow chuckle escaped my lips.

It was the burglar.

Of course, perks of moving into a small town right? You’d get to know everyone, even the criminals!

My eyes roamed over to his side where an atrocious attempt at first aid was located, the torn skin peeking through slivers of the bandages. Bright pops of colour laid in a few different spots, courtesy of the Hello Kitty band-aids he’d stolen from my drawer back home. The sight of the white cat on the well-built man almost made me burst into a round of giggles, but the dried, crusted blood reminded me of the gravity of the situation.

Any remaining resentment I harboured fled with my next exhale, leaving pity in its exchange.

In reality, I didn’t sustain any injuries from the scuffle and all I’d lost were a couple of first aid supplies. While in this rare compassionate state, I also reluctantly forgave him for the hassle brought about from my broken lock.

Even if he probably snipped a few years off my life with the stress from the encounter—resulting in the growth of a couple white hairs, no one deserved to be screeching out their lungs in pain every day.

I deftly unlocked each lock confining his wrists and ankles and stepped back to admire my handiwork when I processed just how ripped the guy was, strength bulging out every crevice of his body. All I could think about was how the hell I was going to transport this hulking mass of pure muscle out of here. 

The idea of plunking him onto the cart I prepared earlier and wheeling him all the way home was tempting, but other than all the little kinks in that plan, most of all, I didn’t think it would be too comfortable with his current state adorning his body.

Then came the crippling realization that I couldn’t handle this on my own.

Thus, I retrieved some clean bandages from one of the benches, deciding that it would be best to snatch a few tranquilizers for my own safety as well and returned to his side.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my short list of contacts before locating his name. As the device began to ring, I reached across the stranger’s lithe body to unravel the old dressing, nearly consumed in reddish-brown dye at this point, to replace them with new ones.

The chime ended, indicating that the receiver had been picked up, before he asked, “Y/N? Why’re you calling so late?���

I began to place the gauze on some of his superficial wounds. “Hey, so, um... long story?”

[softysuho]

pretty boy & zombies

pairing: yunho x reader

summary: In the year 3013, the government unleashed their first wave of "natural selection". They took out elderly by offering a vaccine that was told to prevent further sicknesses and stated that it was mandatory. After the elderly were wiped from the earth, phase two was put into action. There they unleashed a monster. The government started the zombie apocalypse in hopes that the elite human race would show itself.

word count: 1.9k (a/n its been awhile and this is lowkey shit, I also can't figure out how to put "keep reading" in with the new Tumblr update, but I hope you all enjoy this drabble💖)

It was day like every other day, humid and way too hot for any sort of physical activity. The small house you sit in does little to keep the warm weather out, it was a cute place from what was left. There had been an old couple in here prior, from what you gathered. They looked cute and happy in the photos that were scattered across the walls. Most of the food leftover had gone bad, but they did have a decent amount of medical supplies. 

You sighed as you thought back to your home, your parents and your little baby sister. It was hard to keep track of the days you have been without your family, four or five months maybe. Your college days were long behind you now, no more parties, no more all nighters doing homework. Everything had been taken from you. 

On an average day supply run, you can still see the tall billboards, promising a better future. The face of the man who decided to play God and Mother Nature. What bullshit. You wondered if he is dead now, if the zombies got to him like they did to everyone else in the towns. 

One could only hope. 

As for other survivors out there, you know that there are some sharing the near city with you. One day stores could have shelves of food and the next day there seems to be half. Although you haven’t crossed paths with any. Who knows if they would be friendly. 

Maybe they’d put you out of your misery. 

Most days that sounded nice. To be able to join your family in the afterlife. Somedays you knew you didn’t want to die, the fear of what comes next after death chilled your bones. You certainly don’t want to feast off human guts and brains for the next eternity. What if the undead are still the people they were before? Maybe they can only watch themselves turn into a monster.  

As you were running low on filling meals, left with light snacks, you decided it was best to into the deeper parts of the city. It was risky, considering it used to be the most populated, but desperate times come to desperate measures.

You grabbed your gear and your sharp machete and adjusted your makeshift armor straps before taking off. Staying low in the tree was one of the safer moves, taking the longest way into the city in hopes of avoiding hordes. The nature was a beautiful sight, the refreshing smell of pine and the distant trickling of water. Normally it'd be calming if you didn't have to fear the undead lurking.

You wondered if nature would begin to go back in time, before the greedy human fingers that destroyed their beauty. However, you wondered if there would be any animal left once the zombies come and eat them as well. One could only hope they'll be okay.

As the trees began to thin out, you could see the city that used to home to many. The streets were covered in half eaten corpses, trash from the chaos and blood. In the beginning, this sight had you emptying your stomach in a near by bush, 10 deep breaths and one 'you can do this'. These days though, it was just the normal sight you'd become accustomed to.

Normally, these trips would be to the same grocery store you've been too for the last few months. You knew these roads now, and every nook and cranny on the way there. But today was different. You were tired of looking like you just crawled out of an old ladies closet, no offense to her. So you decided to head towards one of the stores with both clothing and food. Hopefully you'd find a new blanket to take as well.

There was a light pep in your step as you made your way there, a small amount of excitement you haven't felt in a long time at the thought of some new clothes. You wondered what else there would be there besides what you need and that thought was fun to think about. So similar to what would've went through your head before the destruction of humanity.

You stuck close to the walls of the tall buildings, trying to be as quiet as you could. You couldn't afford to risk being caught now, out in the open by the dead before you even had a chance to see how bad the rest of the city really was.

What you didn't realize, though, was how lost you were in your thoughts. You inched closer to that dark alleyway you would've avoided originally, one that could hide several lurking bodies within.

It was too late by then, a large and warm hand covered your mouth as an arm wrapped itself around your torso. Alarm bells were going off in your head, slowly realizing that you had to escape before you met your doom. Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, praying to whatever was out there to let you live for another day.

"Would you shut up? I'd rather not regret saving your ass." It was a harsh whisper against your ear, but it did its job as you calmed in the unknown (hopefully) humans arms. "You were being followed." This time the voice was soft, hand finally falling away from your mouth to pull you closer and further into the darkness.

Only then did you notice the scuffing of feet and deep voices. You could tell they weren't far, and they clearly would've seen you walking alone at some point. A thousand 'thank yous' raced through your head towards the person behind you and you could only hope they could feel how thankful you were. You turned to look towards the stranger, only seeing that is was a male who was taller than you. Or at least, thats what you assumed.

The two of you stayed within the alleyways darkness even after the group walked past and out of ear shot. You heard a breath of relief behind you, followed by a brief brush of shoulders. As the man peered out from the darkness, you saw the messy mop of black hair and a quarter of his face. Inching closer to the man, your eyes popped over his shoulder and scanned for any signs of movement. When you both deemed it safe, he motioned you with his fingers and brought you in the opposite direction of the group.

"The hell were you doing out in the open like that?" He said above a whisper. However you were shocked by the way his eyes sparkled in the sunlight, simply managing a small shrug. He rolled his eyes at you in response, "I'm Yunho.. I've been living in that upscale apartment complex a ways down for about a month, and I swear I've seen everyone who is left around here. You're new?"

You scoffed lowly and looked over your shoulder. Why was he telling you this? Did he want to take you back and murder you for supplies? "I've been living in the woods, there was a farm a little ways out and I've only stuck to the store on that side of town."

Yunho hummed, seemingly lost in thought. He didn't seemed too beat up for being out here alone, not like you at least. There were scratches on your arms from shrubbery as well as old blood from a run in with the dead. Yunho was handsome and from the glimpses of his smile, you could tell it was bright.

You had been walking side by side for awhile now, going into the town deeper than you ever had been. The building were getting taller, more expensive and grand. First floor windows were either boarded up or broken, probably either hiding or stealing. You could picture the busy streets, the high class fashion of the upper working class.

"If you've been here for a month, how come you haven't tried to make friends?" You said softly, looking up at Yunho curiously.

"I had ran into the leader about two weeks ago," He scratched his head, looking from side to side while he kept an eye out. "It was fine at first, we made small talk in one of the stores." Yunho pointed behind him and rolled his eyes, "Somewhere back there, I don't remember. We talked for awhile before one of his buddies came in and claimed he could see a bite mark.. All hell broke out after, but I snuck out the back."

You rose your brows and patted him on the shoulder. "His buddy sounds like a real winner."

When you reached the building, you were pretty amazed at the shape it was left in. There was only one window that was broken, leaving the rest of them untouched. "I don't think anyone attempted to stay here so it was pretty much abandoned." Yunho smirked to himself and took a deep breath before he opened the front doors. "After you, ma'am." He bowed and gestured for you to take a step indoors. You gaped at the interior, if you thought hard enough you could see this place lit up and running as it should. The fountain glowing as the clear water fell into each bowl, grand chandeliers brightening the room. Your face was stuck, awestruck with a small smile. You wished you could've saw everything work in action or had the opportunity to stay a night here with room service.

"Woah.." You whispered when an arm was thrown around your shoulder.

"Wanna go room hunting with me? I've only been to the first five floors." Yunho whispered back as, he too, studied the hotel lobby. Pursing your lips, you shrugged and looked up at Yunho. Studying his features for a few brief moments. He was, indeed, very handsome.

Yunho watched you from the corner of his eye, his lips twitching into a smile. As fast as he could, Yunho turned his whole head to catch you in the act. The smile turning into a giant smirk. "See something you like?" He spoke first, head cocking to the side. "It's okay, I see something I like as well." A wink was sent your way, causing a blush to cover your features.

"Shut up," You joked, side eyeing him before your elbow met his ribs. He chuckled at you and took your hand to pull you to the stairs. "Find me some nice clothes and I'll reward you with a treat." Instead of your voice giving off a confident tone, it came out small and squeaky, leading your blush to darken a tenfold.

"Oh? And what is the treat? I think I should know before doing what I'm told."

"Guess it depends on how well you do."

After several hours of searching, jokes and excitement from not expired food, Yunho was able to come up with a nice sturdy set of blue jeans, a pair of leggings, some new combat boots, three shirts and one giant ass hoodie. He looked at you with wide and innocent eyes, silently asking you for his treat.

With a long sigh, you plopped yourself down on the couch and gestured him to come closer. As soon as he was within arms reach, you gripped his shirt and pulled him down on top of you. "Y/n.. you can't have my shirt." He said with a shit eating grin.

"Just shut up and kiss me."

[mariska-sims]

Bubblegum Legacy Family: Day 1 Adventures!

played my legacy challenge file for a while yesterday and made a lot of progress in my Gen 1 starter sim’s life so far; here are a few highlights!

so, to start things out, i of course moved my starter sim, Bobbi Bubblegum, onto the biggest empty lot in my chosen neighborhood and set her money to 1,800 (the amount that the legacy challenge site rules state to start out with IIRC), leaving me with just enough to buy the absolute survival essentials:

(i put some extra walls on the sides of the bathroom area because i remember having issues in the past with sims on legacy starter lots not wanting to use the toilet or shower because other sims walking by could see them LOL)

this left Bobbi with a few simoleons to make herself a few dishes of salad that i stored in the fridge as leftovers so that she could have some backup food if hunger became an urgent issue in a no simoleons situation.

Bobbi is very into the cottage life aesthetic, so i got her a job as a gardener (haven’t gotten to do the first day of it in-game yet ‘cause it was the weekend) and put a couple of plots down for her to practice planting to improve her gardening skill a bit

there was also this random geode rock that kept spawning like two times on the edge of her lot so i had her dig that up lol, she found two little My Sims figures that i thought were very cute ‘cause i loved those games as a kid + i placed them next to her small makeshift library next to her cot bed

since it was the weekend and she didn’t have work to do, i figured it’d be a good idea to get a head start trying to build up some friendships & possibly a relationship for her! she visited a few cafes and parks and did a lot of socializing, and ended up making two pretty good friends within a few in-game hours

this townie was her first friend, and i think her style is adorable, so i tried to see if they might be a good fit as a couple, but the townie sim was a part of a Cool Scary Emo Club and Bobbi kept getting pop-ups saying she was like, nervous about her reputation going down because of their interactions or something along those lines haha. they were already friends so i didn’t want to sabotage that or anything, but i figured this sim probably wasn’t the best match for Bobbi, and i want her to be as happy as possible and hopefully live a great, long life, so we moved on to making some other friends around town!

that’s when she met Zoe Patel, another pre-made EA townie, at the park. they got along super well and became fast friends! Zoe’s interests and general attitude seemed to click a lot better with Bobbi’s, so i decided she would be the new relationship goal sim. and luckily it all worked out quickly!

they totally hit it off and i was quick to have Bobbi propose and secure The Generation 1 Spouse LOL. as Zoe had quite a few overlapping interests with Bobbi, i thought it would be nice to set her on a similar job path, so i signed her up to be an environmental conservationist! she’ll be starting her first day on Tuesday, the same day as Bobbi’s first work day. Bobbi’s life goal is to have a nice farm for both plants & animals (i just got gifted the Cottage Life expansion by my bestie irl so i was very excited to immediately jump into that pack’s gameplay cuz i am very much a cottagecore person too haha), and Zoe’s is to be a friend of the world, so i think as long as i’m able to do a decent enough job juggling their social lives, work lives, and eventual family relationships and challenges, i’m crossing my fingers that they’ll both get to see their aspirations through before the end of the first generation gameplay and household send-off to the next eventual heir!

i also gave Zoe a CAS makeover because i’m not the biggest fan of the base EA townies’ styles/makeup/etc etc and i tend to use a lot of CAS CC in my households; i’ll make a separate post eventually with more pics, but here’s how she looks now!

i give townies makeovers very often in my games, and when i do, i don’t like changing any of their actual genetics like skin, eye color, face shape, etc, i just like using their EA appearance as sort of a template to add fun looks onto! i swapped her base eyes out for CC eyes in the same color (sort of an amber brown shade), added a faceblend to add some more depth to her face a bit, and gave her new outfits & hairstyles that were similar to her pre-existing style. added the pink ombre to her hair in a few outfits where it worked with the hair just for a fun splash of color since i love non-natural hair dye colors irl and for sims :-)

i’m excited to make more progress for this growing family! i already love Zoe so much and i think she’s a perfect fit for the Bubblegum household <3

here are a couple other pics i took while playing last night too

this is a selfie Bobbi took of her and Zoe that i put up on the wall cus i think its cute and in my sims 3 legacy house i almost always had at least one family portrait/art piece of the main adults in each generation, i just think it’s a sweet way to carry on their individual stories/memories as the challenge goes on!

this was when i was trying to get a good pic of the gals interacting and this funky mailman walked by and it cracked up.....love that guy

[allsassnoclass]

would pretty please do 72 or 98 from the 100 ways to say I love you prompt list? maybe with the mashton college au? or just mashton in general! (I love your mashton so much) - lily 💛

lily you have been the #1 cheerleader of this series from the beginning you can have as much college mashton as you want

Word count: 4059

Rating: T for teen

Read on ao3 here

mashton: "I'll meet you halfway"

Michael and Ashton call each other every night.

It’s the type of thing Michael has seen his parents do when his dad used to have to travel for work conferences. Sometimes the calls are long, extensive conversations, and sometimes they only last a few minutes, a simple “hello, I love you, I want to hear your voice before I fall asleep.” It’s the type of domestic, mushy stuff that you do with someone you’re spending the rest of your life with. Michael loves it.

He would love it even more if he could actually see Ashton in person.

Ashton stayed over once in June, but since then their schedules haven’t aligned properly. Ashton works weekdays 9-5, and Michael typically works nights and weekends. With Anne Marie taking on longer shifts, leaving Ashton in charge of keeping house more often, there hasn’t been a lot of time to try and plan a day trip.

When classes start next week, it’s just going to get worse. Michael has been holed up in his apartment with very little contact with the outside world for three months. He goes to work. He comes home. Sometimes he orders take-out and gets to nod at the person handing it to him. He’s sick of his college town, and somehow he doesn’t think that having everyone else on campus is going to help. COVID policy is very similar to how it was in the spring, and Michael hated the spring.

“This fucking sucks,” he says. “It’s my senior year and all I want to do is leave.”

“So why don’t you?” Ashton asks, tinny and pixelated on Michael’s phone. “You have tomorrow and Sunday off, right?”

“Yeah.” He asked for it off at the beginning of the summer, in case he needed time to mentally prepare for the school year.

“Let’s go somewhere. Pick a city between us and I’ll meet you halfway. I’ve been saving a fuckton on rent, you’ve been saving all summer, we can get a hotel and make a time of it.”

“Really?” Michael asks.

“Yeah. Why not?”

Michael pauses. He’s never been the type of person to plan spontaneous outings, but he doesn’t really have an argument against this one. He wants to see Ashton. He wants to get out of the apartment. A two-day date in a different city sounds like the perfect solution.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Pick the city. I’ll plan everything else.”

“Okay.”

Ashton grins. Michael automatically mirrors it. Later that night Michael gets out his computer to find the best location between them. There’s a decently large city that’s an obvious choice, and Michael doesn’t have the focus to do any more research on whether this one or one of the smaller ones has better attractions. He figures the larger it is, the more he’ll give Ashton to work with as he plans, so that’s the name he texts. Ashton texts him at midnight with an address and instructions to meet him there at 10:00. Michael mourns the loss of one of his last opportunities to sleep in, but he’d wake up before dawn to see Ashton if he had to.

-/-

Ashton is waiting outside the coffee shop when Michael pulls up. He’s leaning against the side of the building, head tilted up towards the sun and eyes closed, and Michael’s heart clenches violently in his chest. He’s beautiful. Michael has missed him so much over the past few months that he’s torn between wanting to drink in the sight of him and needing to touch him right now.

Ashton opens his eyes as Michael approaches, like he can somehow distinguish his footsteps from those of everyone else passing by. Michael knows that it’s impossible, but part of him wants to believe that he and Ashton have that sort of connection.

Ashton smiles, letting it bloom across his face like a flower in spring. Michael can barely stop himself from running the last few steps to hug him. They end up crashing together in the middle of the sidewalk either way, arms immediately clutching tightly. Michael has the single-minded goal to squeeze all of the oxygen out of Ashton’s lungs.

“Hi,” Ashton says in Michael’s ear, arms wrapped around his shoulders, pressing them together the entire length of their bodies. “Hi, I love you. Holy shit, I’ve missed you so much.”

He tries to pull away and Michael tightens his grip.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks. “I’ve been hug-deprived for months.”

Ashton snorts and resettles.

“I really fucking love you,” he sighs.

Michael smiles into his neck and soaks in the feeling.

An undetermined time later (that is probably longer than socially acceptable), Michael finally leans back enough to plant one firm kiss on Ashton’s lips, then breaks the hug fully. Ashton’s grin is wide and dopey, and he knows that his is the same and they probably look insane to everyone else, but Michael doesn’t care. Long distance sucks. Being here with Ashton is the best he’s felt in a long time.

“Hi,” Ashton repeats.

“Hi,” Michael replies. “You look like shit.”

Ashton beams, because Michael confessed to him a while ago that he only says that when he’s too overwhelmed to think of a worthy compliment, because Ashton’s ability to always look flawless is infuriating. Sometimes Michael regrets telling him, because it’s embarrassing and Ashton doesn’t need an ego, but then Ashton reacts like this and it makes Michael want to shout endless compliments from the rooftops to get a hint of that smile.

Ashton ducks forward and kisses him again. Michael has to restrain himself from getting lost in it, because they’re in public. They’re sharing a hotel room tonight, so Michael can refill on kisses then.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Let’s go inside. I want an iced coffee.” He pulls a mask out of his pocket and Michael follows suit, then they head into the little cafe.

The intoxicating smell of coffee is potent enough to seep through Michael’s mask. The shop itself is small and cozy, with a black and white tiled floor and dark wooden tables with little kitschy coffee decorations scattered around. There are three big plush armchairs by a fireplace that could be decorative or could actually be functional, and a few children’s books are scattered on the side tables near them. Ashton tugs him towards the counter before he can look around more, greeting the barista with a friendly hello and his order. Michael adds his and a pastry, then they make quiet comments about the flavor shots available and various menu items until their orders are ready.

“So,” Ashton says when they’ve sat down and spent a bit too long smiling at each other rather than talking.

“So,” Michael repeats, taking a sip of his coffee. Ashton holds his hand out on the table, palm up, and Michael takes it so Ashton can fiddle with the promise ring on his finger. “What’s the plan for the day?”

“Well, we can’t check in to the hotel until 4, so I figured after this we could wander around downtown a bit, grab some lunch, then go to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Michael asks. “What are we, five?”

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time and buy you Dippin’ Dots,” Ashton bribes in a singsong voice. Michael is such a sucker for him.

“That’s a very tempting offer,” Michael says, resting his chin in his palm. Ashton smiles, because he knows that Michael is a sucker for him, especially when they’re holding hands and he has Dippin’ Dots.

Ashton brings his hand to his lips and kisses it. Michael feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle of goo right there in the coffee shop. It’s like a few weeks away have reset them to an insufferable honeymoon phase rather than letting them operate like normal people out in society.

They manage to finish their coffees without making everyone around them nauseated, then walk around wasting time until they find an acceptable lunch place. Ashton points out weird-looking stores and boutiques as they go, and sometimes they enter and look around but mostly they window shop. Michael feels something inside him resettle a little every time Ashton laughs or hits his arm to point something out.

Lunch passes in much the same way as coffee did. They talk about whatever strikes their fancy and eat food that’s good but not great and hold hands across the table. Michael covers lunch because Ashton covered coffee and promised to buy him Dippin’ Dots, so it should all even out.

They can’t leave a car in the coffee shop lot for hours on end, so they have to drive separately to the zoo. It’s tragic, because one of Michael’s favorite things to do is to drive with Ashton, whether he’s in the driver’s seat or the passenger, but he follows behind him instead, always keeping his license plate in sight. They don’t get parking spaces by each other, since it’s one of the last summer weekends and the place is crowded with minivans carrying families for one last big outing before school starts, but Ashton waits for him by the main gate and obediently takes his hand the moment they enter.

“Do you want a map?” Ashton asks, side-stepping a toddler that’s paused in the middle of the walkway to stare at some of the strangers passing by.

“Nah,” Michael says. “Let’s just wander. We have a few hours.”

Ashton smiles and tugs him along the path, picking a direction and setting off until they get to the first exhibit. They stand in line an acceptable amount for some moose, then zip through the rest of the North American section relatively quickly. Ashton names every animal they pass, on occasion reading a line here or there from the signs describing them without slowing down for the whole thing. Michael judges his naming abilities and chimes in with a few of his own ideas, then they continue on and let younger kids have their turn by the fences or glass cases.

"I think we should get one of those once we move in together," Michael says, gesturing at the lion sunning herself on top of a rock outcropping.

"You want a cat?" Ashton asks. "I thought we were leaning towards a dog. I've been trying to warm up to the idea of a dog."

"I don’t want a cat, I want Sheila," Michael says. "Look at her. So majestic. So cuddly."

The lion now known as Sheila flicks her tail, but otherwise doesn't move.

"Sure, I'll kidnap her once we have a place. She'll be very happy with us."

Michael squeezes his hand, and they move past the rest of the big cats and into the aquatic building, where Ashton takes a picture of the penguins and sends it to Luke with the caption "nice to see u and ur fam out and about!!!" Michael finds the seahorses and stares at them for a bit, Ashton reading the information cards out loud when he starts to get antsy. They both decide that there are too many fish to name each one, so each tank instead gets a name and subsequent fish get numbers. When they can't waste any more time there, they head back out into the August heat, wandering further into the zoo.

Ashton gets Michael his promised Dippin' Dots between the African and Australian sections. They take a short break to sit for a few moments at one of the few clean tables, watching geese harass families in the hopes of earning a few crumbs and kids bouncing around waiting for their parents to finish.

"Food tax," Ashton says, opening his mouth. Michael rolls his eyes and takes a small spoonful of chocolate-flavored ice cream, feeding it to him across the table.

"Thanks," he says. "Instagram tax."

Michael holds up the Dippin' Dots and beams for the camera, sure that Ashton already has some good and awful secret shots he took that will end up in the photo dump whenever he decides to post.

"Come on," Michael says. "Let's go see some kangaroos."

By the time they finish their rounds of the zoo, it's well past time for them to check in at the hotel. Ashton still insists on stopping at the gift shop to look at the stuffed animals. Michael waits by the door and isn't paying attention enough to stop Ashton from bringing a lion up to the register.

"A tiny Shelia to hold you over until we can get the real thing," he says, presenting the stuffed animal to Michael with a flourish.

"Holy shit, I love you," Michael says, cuddling mini-Sheila close. "You're the best boyfriend ever." Ashton simply grins and kisses him on the cheek.

"So," he says once they're past the zoo gates, hand linked with Michael's once again and walking him to his car. "Do you want to go to the hotel or straight to dinner?"

"The hotel first," Michael says.

Ashton nods and kisses him again with a quick "see you soon."

The ride to the hotel feels like it takes simultaneously five seconds and five years. Michael is getting antsy at the idea of them getting a room to themselves for a while. He's gone multiple hours without sticking his tongue down Ashton's throat, which is a huge show of restraint when they've been apart this long, but he's so ready to do that now. He can't wait to finally fall asleep next to him again or watch shitty network TV while cuddling after dinner.

The hotel itself is a little fancier than Michael expected, if the state of the lobby is anything to go by. He goes up to the counter with Ashton while he checks in, listening when Ashton asks about good restaurants nearby and taking a key when offered. When they finally get to their room, Michael is vibrating out of his skin, but he manages to restrain himself until Ashton has set down his bag and gotten a chance to look around the room.

"Think this'll be fine for the night?" he asks, sitting on the bed to test the mattress.

"I want to kiss you so bad," Michael replies.

"Then what the fuck are you doing over there?" Michael rolls his eyes, drops his bag and mini-Sheila, plops himself right in Ashton's lap, and kisses him. Ashton immediately opens up under him, hands sliding up Michael's back, and something inside Michael slides back into place. He buries his hands in Ashton's hair and tilts them to a better angle, relishing in the familiarity of Ashton's mouth, unable to contain a sound when Ashton tries to pull him a little bit closer.

Ashton breaks the kiss long before Michael is ready.

"We need to go to dinner," Ashton says. "I wanted to woo you. Wine and dine, except maybe without the wine because one of us has to drive."

"Come on, Ash, just a bit more." He leans in again, but Ashton stops him with a finger against his lips.

"If we keep going, we're not going to stop, and I'm hungry. Dinner first, then we'll have the whole night to ourselves."

"Fine," Michael sighs. "But only because I expect to make use of the night."

"I'm counting on it," Ashton says.

“And I’m driving.”

“Okay.”

Michael gets up, checking for his keys and wallet, but doesn’t get the door open before Ashton is turning him around and pushing him gently against it, kissing him again.

“You hypocrite,” Michael says.

“Come on, Michael, just a bit more,” he teases. Michael rolls his eyes even as he’s pulling him closer.

-/-

Dinner passes by in a flash. They tell the waitress it's Ashton's birthday so they can get a free dessert, and Michael ensures that she gives the check straight to him so Ashton doesn't try to fully pay for yet another thing on this trip. The food is pretty good and the atmosphere is nice, and Michael spends most of the meal laughing and trying to remember his table manners.

Ashton sings along to the radio on the way back to the hotel, and Michael considers taking a lap around the block to hear his singing voice a bit more. In the end, he turns into the parking lot so he can watch him rather than just hear him, waiting until the chorus finishes and Ashton manages to do a really nice vocal run before shutting the car off.

"What?" Ashton asks when he catches Michael's eye.

"Nothing," Michael says. "I just love you."

"Sap," Ashton says, poking the corner of Michael's smile.

When they get back to their room, Ashton starfishes on the bed, letting out a deep breath. Michael flops down on his stomach, head pillowed on Ashton's arm, fitting the rest of himself where there's room.

"Hey," Ashton says, tilting his head to look at Michael. "You tired?"

"Nah, not yet," Michael says. "I'm a night owl."

"Yeah, and I made you get up at a reasonable time to drive here for coffee."

Michael props himself up on his elbows, looking down at Ashton. His hair is a little bit longer than Michael remembers it being at the end of the school year, honey strands fanned out against the white hotel comforter. Michael hates that he wasn't around to witness the change in real time, slow enough that he wouldn't have been able to notice, but he's glad they get some time together now.

"I'm not tired," he says, basking in the way Ashton's smile unfurls at that. "I could stay up all night. I'm not going to waste our time together with a nap."

Ashton reaches up and brushes some of Michael's hair back, fingers curling around his ear and brushing over his neck. Michael shivers.

"I've missed you," Ashton says softly. Michael moves so he's bracketing him with his arms and leans down to kiss him. It's just as familiar and intoxicating as last time.

"I've missed you, too," he hums when they part. "Thank you for planning this."

"Thanks for agreeing to it," Ashton says, slipping a hand under the hem of Michael's shirt, hot on his lower back. "I was going crazy without seeing you. I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of in love with you."

"Really?" Michael asks. "Never would've guessed."

Ashton sticks his tongue out, so Michael kisses him again, and again, and again, and doesn't stop for a long time.

-/-

Michael wakes up to Ashton shifting in his arms. He's going slow, obviously trying not to wake Michael while he untangles himself, and Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder before he can get too far away.

"Just going to the bathroom," Ashton whispers. Michael hums and releases him.

He slept better last night than he has since school let out. They spent the evening either kissing or watching HGTV and talking about the features they want in their dream house when Michael makes it big as a producer and Ashton is a best-selling author. By the time they finally fell asleep it was into the early morning, Ashton's eyelids drooping, both of them pressed together skin to skin under the covers.

Ashton returns, pressing a kiss to Michael's cheekbone as he gets resettled.

"What time is it?" Michael asks blearily. He cracks his eyes open, happy to see Ashton in all his early morning glory, edges softened by the shadows from the curtains.

"Almost ten," Ashton says. "I got us a late check out, so we're okay for a few more hours."

"Smart."

"That's me," Ashton says. "Graduated Summa Cum Laude and everything."

Michael pushes him halfheartedly. It doesn't do anything except make Ashton roll further into his space. Michael doesn't mind, hooking a leg around his hip to keep him there.

"Oh, good morning," Ashton says. "Nice to see you, too."

"Shut up," Michael groans.

"Make me."

Michael can't back down from a challenge, and he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve when it comes to his boyfriend. He gets Ashton to shut up quickly, and Michael has the best morning since school let out.

-/-

Michael and Ashton elongate their day as much as possible, but there's only so much to do after they have to check out. They take a walk around the local park and find an art gallery to wander around in. Neither of them are particularly versed in visual art, but Michael likes pretending that they both know more than they do, commenting on lighting and colors and lines in a way that would probably annoy everyone around them if the exhibit was in any way crowded. Ashton finds a painting that he says should be the focal point of their future parlor in their mansion. Michael thinks it's super ugly, but he takes a picture of the name card anyway.

They probably won't have enough money for an art piece like that for a while given student loans and such, but maybe they will at some point, and maybe the artist will have something that they both like that could go in a modest living room in an apartment.

They eat dinner late and stay there chatting long after they've finished, ankles hooked under the table. Michael orders dessert just so they have an excuse to continue filling seats. Ashton gets chocolate sauce on his face and Michael tells him about it instead of wiping it off for him. When they finally split the check, Michael feels like he's splitting himself in half. Maybe things would be better that way. If he were in two halves, he could go back to school and go with Ashton at the same time.

"College sucks," Michael says once they get outside, lingering by their cars. "I don't want to go back."

"Run away with me," Ashton says. "You can be a starving artist and I'll be your boyfriend who sometimes puts food on the table."

"I wish," Michael says, rocking forward on his feet. "I think my parents would kill me. Besides, I have a project with the recording studio that I should probably see through. The band's not bad. It could actually turn into something."

"I hope it does," Ashton says. "Tell me when it's released."

"I will."

They descend into silence, neither of them wanting to say what comes next. Michael scuffs his toe against the pavement and wonders if it's too late to take those words back and run away together.

"Did you have fun?" Ashton asks eventually. "Was the weekend okay?"

"It was amazing, Ashton. It honestly was probably one of the best weekends of my life."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Michael grabs his hands. Ashton immediately brushes his thumb over the promise ring, and Michael hopes he keeps doing that long after the promise ring has switched to a wedding band. "I spent it with my favorite person. What's not to love?"

Ashton kisses him.

"I love you," he says.

"I know," Michael replies.

"Nerd."

Michael smiles and kisses him again.

"I love you, too," he says. "I'm going to miss you a lot."

"I'm only a few hours away," Ashton says. "I'll visit you and make you visit me. Besides, it'll be better with Calum and Luke there again."

"Yeah."

"Cheer up, buttercup. You just had an awesome weekend."

"Yeah," he repeats, squaring his shoulders. "You're right."

"Of course I am."

Michael rolls his eyes and kisses him one last time. When he drives away it still hurts, but not as much as it could.

Calum is unpacking when Michael gets in, and they stay up late catching up. He doesn't check his phone again until he goes to bed.

Ashton tagged him in an Instagram post. It's full of pictures from the weekend: Michael smiling with the Dippin' Dots, them at dinner, a selfie of them in the hotel room, mini-Sheila, and a few more secret shots he took. It's a perfect summary of the two of them, a combination of silly and sweet that makes Michael's chest feel funny. He loves him so much he might burst with it.

The caption is simply someday every day will be like this. Michael falls asleep dreaming of ugly art in their own apartment and waking up to Ashton every morning.

[park-yongjoon]

Introduction Post

Name: Yong-joon Park

Gender/Pronouns: Cisgender man, he/him/his

Date of Birth: January 31, 1994

Place of Birth: Daegu, North Gyeongsang, South Korea

Current Location: Barton Point, Maine, United States

Positive Traits: Dedicated, Honest, Loyal

Negative Traits: Nihilistic, Possessive, Stubborn

Yong-joon was born in Daegu, South Korea to Cho-hee Moon and Min-ho Park. He had a picture perfect life: a nice house, parents who loved him, two cats, and a baby sister on the way. That is until the night of the accident. While his parents were coming home from a charity event sponsored by his father’s job, their car was struck by a drunk driver. The driver made it out alive, but Cho-hee and Min-ho did not. From that point forward, the four-year-old Yong was placed in the custody of his aunt and uncle in San Francisco, California. While they were financially able to raise him alongside their two other children, they didn’t want to, and they made that known. 

Yong was treated as an outsider the moment he entered his aunt and uncle’s care. While his cousins received the best of everything, Yong was always given hand-me-down clothes and broken toys. His aunt and uncle berated him on a daily basis, making him feel like everything he did was wrong. When he started showing an interest in music, he was told he would never be talented enough to make any money from it. He was never going to be happy in this household, so he decided to get out. Shortly after graduating high school in 2012, he packed his bags and fled to the east coast.

He didn’t know where to go, so he picked a random town on the map, and that’s how he decided on Barton Point. At first, he wasn’t sure whether he would stay long-term, but found that he actually liked the small-town. He’s held several odd jobs in town throughout the years, but in 2016, he began working at the local pet store, where he’s worked ever since. Yong doesn’t mind the people there, but absolutely adores the animals. Additionally, he has been working as a DJ on the side. He hasn’t found major success in music yet, but still makes a decent amount of money playing music at birthday parties and weddings.

Connections || Character Questionnaire

[bigowlenergy]

stuck + lightening

can only describe this as phantom_cringe_comp_ft_electricity.mp4. no angst only Stupid

au where ghosts are feral cats and danny is a tiny menace who keeps needing rescued by the local ghost shelter no details no thoughts head NOT empty full of chaos

X

Since parking his ass firmly on the threshold of death, Danny has done some truly stupid shit. Pulled a couple fast ones on the universe. Did some sick pranks. Partook in a few shenanigans. Had a little fun now and again. Enjoyed himself, even.

So it is only fair for the other end of the stick to smack him in the face eventually.

“Ms. Genevieve, please let me out,” He begs the old woman as she edges her walker around his prone form. She shakes her head sadly at him, huge white curls swaying in pity.

“If you didn’t want to be caught, you shouldn’t have been fooling around, brat.” She says fondly, continuing on her merry way.

“I’ll carry your groceries!” He pleads, wiggling the end of his tail that’s outside the net and trying to track her with his head hanging off the curb. It’s all he can do. Everything else is frozen tight, like he’s full of power and will burst if he moves. He could probably move if he tried really hard, but electricity and Danny have a complicated relationship at the best of times, and even thinking about it too hard right now makes him keen in distress. Ms. Genevieve hasn’t had her hearing aides at a decent volume for the last five years, so Danny feels zero guilt for the half wailing whine that tumbles out of his throat as she abandons him.

It’s not like she knows it’s him - as in, Daniel Fenton, 14 year old human boy who talks to her at the grocery store and engages in egregious amounts of community gossip - but it still stings. Mostly because she’s, like, the third person to walk by so far. The first was Robert Sanchez, harried mail carrier and owner of the most prized weed whacker in town. Then it was Susan Lee, a middle school kid who snapped some pics and ran. People he only knew tangentially, but still.

The garage across the street squeaks as it opens, and Danny waits for the car to finish parking so he can yell at them. Jennifer Yakult makes eye contact, then just blinks and raises Magni from his car seat. Mickey climbs out the passenger side and does a double take. Pulls his phone out of his pocket and crows, loud enough for the entire block to hear,

“Better than a bug zapper, Phantom?”

Danny’s mouth cannot drop open in affront because he is petrified by a ghost animal trap, so he just yells back instead.

“This is harassment!”

Mickey just laughs and keeps his phone up and oh, oh Danny is so going to turn his chair intangible during third period tomorrow, just watch. His mom calls for him to get in the house, heartlessly ignoring the helpless ghost stuck under a ghost trap like a blanket on the concrete across the street.

Okay, now he feels kind of pathetic. Danny musters the willpower to curl his fingers into the netting his hand is caught in and oop. Nope. A weak current of electricity courses through his body like a wave cresting. Fills him to the brim with static. Peaks around his core. Leaves his vision whited out when it fades away softly. His ectoplasm is a nuclear generator and Danny is just surface tension.

Whenever he surfaces, he’s too whacked out on power to notice the shadow hanging over him. He’s also purring. Again.

“Again, Phantom?” A voice bubbles up from a million miles away. Just turn it off, he thinks fuzzily, too overcharged to speak. But maybe he managed it anyway, because the trap shuts off with an abruptness that chokes him.

The fishingline-fine netting should feel like nothing as it’s dragged off him, but in his hypersensitized state it feels like being dragged through concrete. Someone grabs his arms and peels him off the sidewalk, depositing him gently on bare earth and - oh. His keen cuts out instantly.

Danny wriggles his whole body into the gloriously cold and electrically grounding earth like the stupid little ghost worm he is at heart. Phases into the soil and squiggles around in it until he finishes discharging the excess. He still feels like he could power the entire town as a backup generator, but less because he will explode otherwise and more as a side hobby.

Once he feels stable enough to not humiliate himself further, he peeks his head out of the ground. A good sized chunk of Mr. Jhan’s lawn is burned to the quick and a bit torn up from his claws. A squad of GIW are on the sidewalk, snickering at him. One holds a camera.

“You’re welcome, Phantom.” One coos. Danny hisses halfheartedly at them, his whole face burning cold in embarrassment. He flees.

 -

 Danny is not a stupid little baby ghost who can’t handle electricity any more. He’s seventeen! Guiding current and discharging excess power flow is second nature to him now.

It just makes this situation all the more embarrassing.

“We’re almost done, sweetie,” His mom says, petting his hair gently. Danny kind of wants to cry from humiliation. He’s so overcharged that he can’t help the overemotional response to being petted by his mom when he feels this bad, and the nonconductive hazmat helps a little. Everything is too bright and fuzzy, and being upside down doesn’t help with the disorientation any. A whimper slips out at another jolt of movement above him.

“Two more left, Danny-o!” His dad cheers, moving back into his line of sight briefly. He edges around the tree to angle the clippers at another branch. They’re mostly charcoal by now. Tucker sneezes, ash smeared on his cheek, a loop of Danny’s overlong tail laying paralyzed in his hazmat gloves. He’s the only one who can stand still enough to make non-painful contact with Danny in this state, so he’s on detangling duty. Danny loves him so much right now.

“Do you want some dirt?” Sam asks, sounding partially sincere and also like she’s trying not laugh at him but she’s also totally laughing at him. Yes, Danny wants the goddamned dirt. He’s never wanted anything in his entire afterlife so badly.

“Shh,” His mom says, patting his forehead lightly. It feels like his entire body is a bell and her hand is the clapper, which silences Danny’s pissy hissing immediately. Sam pours soil on the frozen loops of his tail and it’s the best thing Danny has ever felt. It’s so good? He loves her, too.

Another jolt jostles him and he hiccups and gets hushed again. The branch that falls too loudly beside him practically disintegrates on contact. The thicker end smolders a bit.

“Alright, last one! Everybody ready?” Tucker begins releasing the loops of Danny’s tail he’s been supporting, which distracts him from everybody else clearing the area. Doesn’t distract him enough to ignore the fucking firetruck.

The final snip to freedom rings out and Danny slides out of the downed tree with agonizing slowness, feeling every tiny twig brush against his skin like needles. He hits the earth and oh, sweet, sweet relief.

He phases into the park soil completely and just. Stays there. Directs the excess electricity out of his overclocked body until he feels stable enough to surface.

He does so invisibly, silently groaning when he finds his parents talking to the chief firefighter. Again. The downed tree is a husk of charcoal and soaking wet, like a sad, abandoned campfire. He really did a number on the grass. Everything smells like smoke and ozone.

Why couldn’t the lightening have just killed him?