demcliticn-blog

[demcliticn-blog]

@heyholly: @fucksimon psssh. It's the weekebd.

@heyholly: @fucksimon I have been informed that its not the weekenD

@heyholly: @fucksimon psssh. It's the 90's\

@fucksimon: @heyholly That makes you sound even more fucked up.

@fucksimon: @heyholly I guess to each their own, though, right?

[demcliticn-blog]

Simon couldn’t even remember how many lines he took in the bathroom of the diner, all he knew was that his shift was over and he could finally feel the cooler weather helping his slightly flushed cheeks. It was easy to not realize where he was walking after snorting too much coke that his head spun and it felt as if cotton was between his ears. He blinked when he heard a jingle above him, unsure of where he had stumbled upon or what time it even was. “Oh,” he said, his eyes viewing the selection of CD’s with disinterest. “Got any Gorillaz? I lost my Demon Days album,” he explained, looking over at the boy. It wasn’t a concern to him that it seemed to be later than would be appropriate to come into the store. Since Simon stumbled upon the store, he assumed he would stay there and enjoy what he could.

work was slow today to say the least, not that the record store saw a lot of action during a week day. most of the time, the people who came in would leave without buying anything, even after exhausting every cd on the player in the corner of the room. holden’s starting to feel like there should be a store policy about the amount of cds you can play for free without buying anything. it was just shy of closing time and the youth had already begun preparing for departure. bag packed, racks organised and keys in hand, it was just a matter of waiting for that pesky clock to finally edge near to 8 o’clock so it would be time to lock up and go. at five-fifty, the worst possible thing happened. the bell above the door gave its tell-tale jingle, indicating someone was coming in just ten minutes before the end of the work day. with a disgruntled twist to a cherry-red mouth, blue eyes shifted immediately to the door to rest upon the intruder. through grit teeth, a voice as sweet as honey spoke, “hey-o, welcome to retrograde records. can i be of any service to you this evening?”

[demcliticn-blog]

goldcnlifc:

Tiler stepped back out of the bushes and toward the street. This kid, Simon, was someone they might keep around, just as entertainment. “Got a lotta enemies? Hard to believe with someone as charming as you.” They smiled, shrugging their shoulders. Everyone even had enemies in Bone Hill, but they weren’t going to reveal that information yet. “It’s good for a night or two, but not always the best to grow up in.” Or try to survive in. “Doctor? Oh no, no, no. I didn’t even graduate high school.” They laughed shaking their head. “I believe in the healing powers of natural remedies and weed.” Tiler smirked, giving him a sideways glance. “Enlarging penis huh? I’m sure we can solve that issue at some point.” They glanced around, nodding for Simon to follow them. “There’s a pool around the corner, closed at night, but you strike me as someone who isn’t against hopping a fence or two.” 

“We all got our pasts,” Simon shrugged as he allowed them to walk a step ahead of them so that his eyes could linger on their ass. He definitely didn’t find himself attracted to people, but something about them was like electricity. “I always thought that about my hometown, you know, but that’s only because there was a few thousand people around. Everyone knew everyone’s business in my neighborhood. I couldn’t even take a leak without that bitter old lady across the street bitching at me. Turns out you aren’t supposed to piss in her flower garden,” he explained, wrapping an arm around them, mostly unaffected by the idea that they wanted their space. “High school drop out? Something about that really gets my blood pumping,” he said in a teasing tone. “Weed? I used to deal in Atlanta,” he explained, smiling in content as he remembered the days before he came to Bone Hill. “I hoped that we would be able to hop a fence or two. I need an excuse to show off my bad boy prowess.”

[demcliticn-blog]

@heyholly: #covfefe? am I drunk rn? please tell me im not turning into a wine mom

@fucksimon: @heyholly You might be actually turning into an alcoholic. It's ten in the morning.

[demcliticn-blog]

goldcnlifc:

“I’m good to go if you are.” They smirked, brushing their braids over their shoulder. This definitely beat a night with Netflix. “Bored of Atlanta? I don’t think I’ve ever heard those words before.” Big cities seemed to offer more, but the comfort of a small town allowed for you to get away with more. “Ha, you sure are a funny one, a bit of a charmer too.” They raised an eyebrow, but didn’t hate the compliment. “Vegas got a little too much for me, thought I would have a better chance of being the medicine man in a town like this.” They shrugged, the story hadn’t changed since they arrived 3 years ago, that they almost believed it themselves. 

Simon smirked, eyes alight with something that he never felt before. This infatuation was certainly a new idea in his head, usually he could quickly ignore feelings of lust or interest long enough to leave the premises. But he didn’t want to leave Tiler, not even if they seemed odd. Almost too odd for their own taste. “It’s boring doing the same things every day, also, it’s easier to avoid your enemies if you aren’t in the same city, isn’t it?” He asked, offering his hand for them before he started walking toward any old direction, halfheartedly searching for a body of water. There was no concern with the fact he was only in his boxers and walking down the street. “Vegas, huh? Showgirls and neon lights, sounds like a too intense trip for me,” he agreed, raising an eyebrow, “medicine man? You’re a doctor? Because, listen, my penis is enlarging and I don’t know how to fix it.”

[demcliticn-blog]

goldcnlifc:

Tiler stepped back, a smug look on their face as he turned to them. He was interesting, and Tiler was always drawn to intriguing people, and in the past it had definitely gotten them in trouble. “Ah, I see. Well maybe I’ll have the great opportunity to see it.” They laughed, tossing them his pants. “Pleasure is mine Simon, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What brings you to Bone Hill?” They shook his head, not dropping their smile. 

“Skinny dipping is still on the table, mon cheri,” he spoke, taking his pants in his hands before he threw them haphazardly over his shoulder. At their question, he hummed as he reached into his backpack and got out a lighter and a cigarette. “I was bored of Atlanta, I suppose,” he said as he lit the cigarette, taking a drag before he licked his lips. “I wasn’t having enough fun, it was all work and no play. So I packed my bags and told my boys I would see them in a few months. What about you? Why isn’t a pretty little thing like yourself not already making it big in Hollywood?”

[demcliticn-blog]

goldcnlifc:

Tiler let out another laugh, this surely was the pick-me-up they needed after the long day. Moving behind him, they gripped his pants and gave another chuckle. “We can see when we get there.” They nodded, giving his pants a pull once her told them that he had unbottoned. “That’s good to know, I was briefly afraid I was about to get a face full of white ass.” He was a charmer, and Tiler was definitely enjoying it. “Is that so? You are a free man now. Though your pants might need a bit of stitching.” They held them up for him. “Name’s Tiler by the way.” 

Simon couldn’t help but notice the way that they didn’t argue with his words, simply letting him say whatever he wanted. Not many passive people got his attention, far too dull for his own taste, but maybe it was face value that grabbed his attention. Like a shark to blood, he wondered just how close he could get before being kicked away. “Hey, my white ass is the seventh wonder of the world, I hear, the Great Wall of China can suck my dick,” he said, looking over toward them before he stood up, finally able to see them in their glory. It was much better when he wasn’t crotch level. “Fuck those pants, they’ve never done anything for me, after all,” he said as he stared at them for a moment, simply looking before he nodded his head. “Simon Dean, it’s a pleasure,” he spoke, his southern accent rearing its head as he held out his hand to them. Sometimes even he remembered what manners were.

[demcliticn-blog]

@itissawlem: @fucksimon mate I don't know where my valuables at lmao

@fucksimon: @itissawlem That sucks. And here I thought I could get away with all of it.

[demcliticn-blog]

goldcnlifc:

“Then you, my friend, have been living in a dark, dark world.” They laughed, approaching him to see how they could help with his predicament. Looking at it, they couldn’t help but let out another laugh. How did some people end up where they do? “Skinny dipping? You trying to get to my heart or my clothes off?” Tiler winked, stepping up behind the bush to try to pry it off his pants. Though they wouldn’t mind them coming off. “If you don’t mind stripping them it might be easier to get you out of this predicament. And then we’re half-way to skinny dipping.”

“Then at least you can be my light,” he said, eyes following them around for as long as they could before their figure disappeared out of his line of view. He couldn’t help his disappointment, but couldn’t help the way a laugh came from his lips. “Whichever you’d like to let me.” As they touched his pants, he used one hand - the other supporting himself up slightly so his midsection wasn’t dug into by the windowsill - to unbutton his pants. “The pants are now yours to pull of. You’ll be happy to know I wore underwear today, so there will be no need to be worry about seeing something you won’t like. Though, at this stage of the night, no one has ever complained before.”

[demcliticn-blog]

✉️ open

Max: is no one else concerned that the police seem to have abandoned the investigation of a dead body falling through the ceiling at veto???

Simon: Those words make sense separately but together I have no idea what you are talking about.

Simon: Maybe it was the Hash Slinging Slasher. Even the police are scared of him.

[demcliticn-blog]

@itissawlem: I fnt j say there cj gna. In the ride over

@fucksimon: @itissawlem I don't know the language you're speaking. Are you dying?

@fucksimon: @itissawlem If you are, can you tell me where your valuables are?

[demcliticn-blog]

goldcnlifc:

Tiler was headed to their house, opening up for the evening for whomever needed it, when they noticed Simon half-way in the window. “You know front doors exist for a reason.” They chuckled, shaking their head. Tiler had stopped asking questions about this town a month or two after they arrived, and they just tended to go along with whatever was going on. “You might need to take you pants off, not sure if I can get these thorns out to release you.” 

“Oh well, I’ve never heard those words from such a beautiful specimen before,” he said, his smirk covering his face as he stared at them. There was something about their aura, something alluring that couldn’t quite be placed in his drug ridden mind. It had to be purely a face value attraction, he reasoned, as he continued to watch their features. It had been quite some time since he saw someone as pleasing to his own eyes. “I might need a hero to save me, this time, maybe next time I can rescue you from a fiery building or from drowning in the local pool. What’s the nearest pool to here? If anything, we can skinny dip in it when it gets dark enough,” he rambled, the smirk never leaving his face as he watched her carefully. 

[demcliticn-blog]

motherscry:

❝ i do possess a front door, you know ? ❞  what is it with the casual breaking and entering into his flat lately? he supposes he appreciates the fact no one is bothering to make him walk all the way over to the door just to let them in, and he couldn’t care less about such small things as privacy. but he still thinks that he should probably be annoyed on some level. maybe. ( he isn’t ).  ❝ it’s busier than the local pharmacy in here, yet i’m getting paid half as much to supply twice as many STD ridden idiots, ❞  he’s watching simon struggle, head cocked to the side in consideration. he could help. or he could watch and root for the rabid dog / thorn bush instead. decisions, decisions.  ❝ i don’t think you’re as aesthetically pleasing as you think yourself to be, ❞  he doesn’t even mean it as an insult; he doesn’t understand why anyone would be insulted by that. at least he’s crossing the small room to lend a hand in ensuring the other’s safe arrival into his shoddy lounge. 

“Front doors are for people who care to be courteous, Oscar, which I have none of that,” he said, not necessarily minding the way that he was hanging out the window since he knew where he was. Though, the potential that there was a dog biting at the fabric of his pants was slightly worrying, he still managed a grin at the person walking toward him. “And it would be more boring if I was eaten by a dog, wouldn’t it? Who else would make sure my boys in Atlanta were behaving? I don’t trust you with that responsibility, you’d let them run wild. I didn’t bring them up to see them step out of line,” he continued, voice taking on a whine as he blinked up at the other. At the mention of him not being aesthetically pleasing, he rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be helped into the lounge before he patted down his clothing. “I apologize, not all of us have the true pretty boy face like you,” he said, eyes lingering on the other before he smirked, “I’m surprised you don’t have a bitch sucking your dick every second of every day, with your looks. People must offer you sex for drugs constantly, huh?”

[demcliticn-blog]

rcmik:

“The wrong apartment building?” Remik coughs a little around the last gulp he’d taken, a grin stretching over his features as he eyes the other person like he knows something he does not (which is true). There’s something entirely humorous about that level of fucked-upness, and yeah, maybe he’s making an assumption there, but he’s not usually wrong about things like that, and Jesus, what other explanation is there? “I want what you have had.” He says, ignoring the obnoxiously verbal bathroom vs restroom debate. Saying ‘beverage’ is not the same thing as that, but Remik isn’t exactly going to drag it out and draw even more attention to the way he speaks than he already has. He’s not exactly insecure about it, but nor is it necessarily his favorite topic to discuss either. He watches as the intruder gets to his feet, not making any move to intercept him up until the point when he sees which door he’s going towards, and then he’s jerking into motion, expression shifting into something a little bit wary. It isn’t his fault his house is definitely haunted, okay? Don’t judge him. “That is the basement. Shut the door before you hurt yourself. Where do you even live?” He’s reaching around him without even waiting, pushing the door shut promptly and giving him a little glare, like he should’ve known not to go down there. “Stupid.”

“You ask a lot of questions, kid, you should really not do that,” he said, waving off the younger man like one would do to a curious child. Simon had more important questions to ask himself, like how he ended up in this place instead of his apartments. It was slightly eerie how he couldn’t hear the normal sounds of cars going by like he normally could out of his apartment window. He was taken aback when suddenly the door was slammed in his face, causing him to look offended toward the door that was now firmly shut before him. His mind took longer than he would like to admit to realize it was the boy who he told to leave him alone that had closed the door. “The basement, you say? Well, why don’t we adventure down there and check it out,” he said, his smirk returning to his features as he watched the boy before him. “Unless you’re scared. I’ve never seen someone close a door so quickly in my face before. Well, so unwarranted at least.”

[demcliticn-blog]

ethcrealisms:

         - ̗̀ ❝ ♡ ; ⋯ FIERY CURLS bounced in the gentle breeze as they escaped their tie, her hand pressed against her scalp as she turned slightly. “ ⋯ i don’t think i’m that LUCKY to be quite honest with you.” aubrey huffed, frustration taking over her tone as she tracked a greasy black mark across her cheekbone. “unfortunately i have a little mouth to feed and bills to pay so as much as an endless sleep would be great, i can’t afford to.” she shrugged, her hands now crossing over her chest as his questioned continued. “you’re on a roll, don’t let me stop you, i’m sure if i let you continue you could probably answer your own questions.”

“Modern science has been trying to figure comas out for years, sweetheart,” he said, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette, “I doubt me talking about it will suddenly shine a light on a link they’ve been missing for years.” Simon eyed her for a moment before deciding there was no need to continue talking about what obviously didn’t interest her. Maybe someone else would find his rambling more enjoyable. “Doesn’t matter if you can or can’t afford it, if you die you die. Think about it this way: if you die, you don’t have to worry about any of that shit.” A smile contorted his face, taking over his features as he continued to stare at her.

[demcliticn-blog]

minctte:

“I don’t know if you’ve heard of them, but there are these things called doors for that. You should try them sometime – 10 out of 10 would recommend.” She’s just being deliberately difficult now. Something about being this sad soul’s only hope of getting in through the window has her feeling powerful and Minnie’s finding she quite enjoys it. Her head tips and she makes no further move to assist. Surely his torso would get uncomfortable in that position, with all his weight resting upon it? “What’s in it for me?” She taps her fingers on her biceps where her arms are folded across her chest. “Surely you don’t mistake me for the kind of girl who does favors for nothing in return, right?”

Her words did nothing to anger him, instead he was interested in her thoughts. She believed herself to be in control, powerful to some extent. Simon loved the ones who craved control. He pouted, feigning embarrassment and helplessness, anything to get her to trust him. It was like a dance with the devil, his hand held out for her to take with a innocent smile. “Whatever you’d like. I have some stuff in my bag, some money or whatever you want. I just want inside, please,” he said, allowing his tone to take on desperation. This was a cat and mouse game, even if he knew she didn’t know whose role was whose.

[demcliticn-blog]

minctte:

Minnie’s climbed in and out of her fair share of windows – sneaking into abandoned places being entirely a part of her aesthetic – but she can’t remember once getting stuck like this poor soul. The fact he was taking it with good-natured amusement had her meeting his smile but she’s, truthfully, not all that interested in the details he starts to provide. “I’m not gonna lie,” she answers, contemplating her options, “I’m more tempted to push you out than I am to pull you in. It’d probably be easier for the both of us and it gets the same job done, does it not?” She listened for a sign of a rabid dog and, hearing none, she arched a brow but moved closer to the window nonetheless.

He couldn’t help the way his mouth turned into a pout, eyes searching her’s thoughtfully before he shrugged. “Listen, I don’t need to be outside again, I came through this window to be inside.” His tone made it seem as though he was annoyed with having to explain himself further, which perhaps he was. Before he got to Bonehill, people answered to his beck and call without him even saying more than a word. These people were new, interesting, and ready for him to mold them into what he wanted them to be. “I don’t need to be pushed out the window,” he grunted as he kicked again, though he was annoyed at the way he was truly stuck.