#simzel

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

The Beginning /./ [Simzel]

@marzelsoto

Technically, Simba still wasn’t a teacher. He hadn’t graduated, but he was supposed to, come next June. In the meantime, he was supposed to start teaching full time. Of course, there was another teacher in the classroom, as there usually was for kids in first grade, but--he was in charge this time. Lesson plans, parent/teacher meetings, grading, and...actual teaching all fell to him.

He was...freaking out.

But in his very Simba way, where he was pretending he was completely unbothered by everything.

“Fuck,” he yelped as he stapled his finger. 

For the record, there was no little ears around to hear it. School hadn’t started yet. Simba was currently standing on a chair, trying to staple little clouds he’d cut out to the corkboard hanging on the wall. 

“Oh, hey, Marzel,” he said when he turned around and jumped off the chair so he could go over to his desk and find a tissue to staunch the bleeding in his finger. 

“What’s up? You need something?”

[outfit]

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

The Value of Scales /./ [Simzel]

@marzelsoto

Here he was! His first knight mission! It could not have come at a worse time!

Simba was in the doghouse with his husband, first of all, for reasons undisclosed at this moment in time. Not to mention, it was the middle of Ramadan, which was, probably, not the time to go adventuring into the woods, but--Simba wasn’t going to turn down a mission given to him. He wanted desperately to do something, anything useful. He knew that his family was responsible for this looming threat to Swynlake and the crushing weight of that guilt was only alleviated by action. 

So, here they were--him and Marzel--trouncing through the woods, swords in hands. Simba was eager for it, even if he felt slightly lightheaded. 

“Okay, so--I think the dragon was hanging out around the rock quarry, but it’s kind of hard to remember because I know the Prince had blocked off all the paths at the time, so that no one could get near her,” Simba jabbered as they headed in the direction that he was 50% sure was correct. It had been a few years ago, after all, that Simba had found and made a deal with the dragon that had lived in the woods.

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

A Hero is Only as Good as His Weapon /./ [Simzel]

@marzelsoto

Arthur had given them swords for Christmas.

He might think this was a good idea--and maybe it was, considering what had happened just a fortnight ago--but it also wasn’t. Because give a man like Simba a sword and he was absolutely going to hurt himself with it at some point. Also, he was angry. There were many parts of Simba that were furious and he had half a mind to take his sword out into the woods and ram it into a tree as many times as he could. 

Of course, that would break it, and then Simba would have to explain why his sword was broken. He could replace it with his family sword, but he probably shouldn’t do that. 

So, he figured sparring was the next best thing.

A few days after Christmas, he’d rung up Marzel, because that was who he knew best, well--besides Belle, but he wasn’t going to ask someone who had just had major surgery a month ago to spar (especially because he figured Belle would try to take him up on it.) 

“Hey!” Simba called from his porch--he had some clear land out back where they could practice without people asking why they suddenly had swords and shields. “How were your holidays? Do you celebrate?” 

[bottoms! top!]

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

What Have I Done? /./ [Simzel]

@marzelsoto​

So, Simba had an apology gift for Marzel. It involved a huge bowl of ugali, made with love (the most important ingredient), but also a whole lot of delicious butter, and a six pack. Because nothing said: “I’m really sorry for going out of my mind and punching you in the face repeatedly” better than food and beer.

He waited awkwardly, kind of regretting at the last second that he hadn’t texted first. However, if he had texted, he wasn’t sure Marzel would answer the door. Now that he was standing in front of it, having already knocked, he realized maybe there was a reason for that. Namely, you normally didn’t want the person who’d just beaten you silly showing up without warning at your door. But, well, it was too late for second thoughts--if he started down the hallway now, he probably wouldn’t make it before Marzel opened the door and saw him halfway down the corridor. 

Was that better? Worse? 

Was he considering ding-dong-ditching one of his good friends?

Oh. The door was open.

Oh. That was Marzel’s face...very beat up.

“Oh, yowch,” Simba hissed, making a face as he saw Marzel’s swollen, bruised one. Man, he was glad there was only one main stop on the Simba apology tour. “Heyyy, mate.” He grinned and held out the gifts. 

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

Ye Olde Friend /./ [Simzel]

@marzelsoto​

Now that Simba was settled into married life, he felt...restless. For the last year and a half, any time he’d felt stressed or in need of a project, he just turned to the wedding. Fiddling with it or tweaking certain things. He could entertain himself for endless hours on Pinterest, calling vendors, arguing with Toulouse (he had actually quite liked arguing with Lou over things, it was the first time he’d ever felt brotherly towards him.) 

Now everything was so...still and quiet. There was his honeymoon, but they were purposefully not planning much and considering they were leaving soon, there wasn’t much left to do. Except packing...and packing wasn’t fun. 

So, he was bored. He was bored and lonely, now that Nala and Kiara had both left town. He yearned for company, especially when his husband was gone. 

Going through his phone, scrolling down the contacts, he finally settled on Marzel. It had been a while since he’d seen the other man. He was glad when he’d accepted an offer to hang out by the lake with the dogs. Simba made his way down, Simone on her leash, Bowie running ahead, and Turtle ambling along best he could, bringing up the rear.

“Hullo!” Simba beamed as he caught sight of Marzel at one of the benches. “How’re you?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of his friend, leaning down to unhook Simone’s leash. 

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

Without Love /./ [Simzel]

@marzelsoto

Simba was curious. It was a terrible, no-good habit of his. Especially when it involved one of his friends--not telling him something. Especially if said friend seemed weirdly upset. The curiosity came from a need to fix, fix, fix. To help. That was all he wanted, really. It wasn’t to gossip or to satisfy the curiosity purely for curiosity’s sake. 

He wanted to help.

Which meant ugali. Which meant Hairspray. Which meant chocolate. 

He stood with a bag slung over his shoulder on Friday afternoon at Marzel’s door. (Hadn’t been hard to get his address from school records. Hadn’t even needed to break in. He just sweet-talked the receptionist.) 

“Jambo!” Simba greeted with a big smile. “I brought ugali. It’s really good--kind of a grain-porridge thing but better. And I brought meat to go with it, but also just veggies if you don’t eat meat.”