#just. go. like there are even direct trains from the nearest station to me to cardiff central a few times a day what am i talking about | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jqmalikhsgib · 9 months ago

Text

midnight sky

two

it’s only been three days since you did the most craziest thing in your life. you didn’t regret a single thing, though!

zayn had went back home yesterday. it was his turn taking care of his daughter. you understood, not ever wanting to come between the two of them. you knew first hand, kids come first! it’s exactly how you treated your students.

you looked down at your hand and smiled. zayn had given you the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. giggling to yourself, your phone starts to ring.

your eyes furrowed seeing an unknown number. you ignored it before getting out of bed and getting dressed. you head downstairs, walked to the nearest train station, and waited patiently.

when you get to your destination, you head straight to your classroom. your phone goes off once more. frowning, you decided to answer the call. “who is this?!”

“im sorry, miss yln. it’s taryn, zayn’s assistant!”

“oh—no, it’s fine. im sorry. is everything okay?”

“yes! we just need to go over a few things. nothing bad! zayn just wants me to make sure you’re good. do you have a good time to meet?”

“im pretty busy monday through friday. the only available time i have is the weekend. is that okay?”

“no, it’s great! i could meet you at your apartment if you’re comfortable? i just don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

“that’s actually perfect! do you need my address?”

“zayn could give it to me. ill see you soon miss yln. or, well, miss malik now.”

you blushed as the phone call ended. soon your first period class started piling up.

“lets get started!”

the weekend came quickly. you were waiting for zayn’s assistant while you graded a few papers. when you heard a knock on the door you weren’t expecting zayn as well.

“hi, babe.” zayn kisses you gently. you smile before allowing both zayn and taryn into your apartment.

“this is a surprise. i thought it was just gonna be your assistant.”

“meh, thought id come by since khai is with her aunt.”

yn points to her living room table before they all sit on the couch. “sorry, not exactly a fancy joint.”

“i like it!” zayn shrugs.

“so, what’s this all about?”

“we have to go over somethings now that you’re married.”

“like?”

taryn looks at zayn. “your life’s gonna change completely, baby. i just want you to be prepared for that.” zayn grabs your hand.

“once the world finds out, your social media following will rise, you’d receive many direct messages from strangers, paparazzi’s gonna follow you, and obviously it comes with some hate comments. we want you to be mentally prepared for that change.” taryn states.

“it’s why we brought some good information on therapist around the area. that is if you continue to stay here,”

“why wouldn’t i stay here?”

zayn looks at taryn once more.

“we even found a few private schools you could teach at! some elementary schools. zayn has told me how you wanted to teach elementary kids! it’s in pennsylvania. more secluded there.”

“we could even get a new farmhouse in case you don’t like ours.”

“wait,” yn takes a deep breath.

“i know this is a lot to process, but it’s the necessary steps to keep you safe. if you still want to continue staying in new york we could find places more secluded and schools more private for you to teach, yn.” taryn states.

“i just—i never really thought about everything. i love being with you, and i don’t regret marrying you, but my life is changing quickly. we’ve only been married for a week, zayn. i thought we’d keep our relationship private for as long as we can.”

“if that’s what you want, we can do that.”

“but it’s gonna be completely difficult.” taryn finished.

“how so? celebrities do it all the time, right? it’s not hard to keep things low key, yeah?”

“not hard but it’s not easy either. soon enough people will notice. sometimes they’ll see zayn come in and out of this building, they might see the two of you enjoying a private moment, might get ahold of your social media afterwards, and you’d be surprised what fans could find out with a simple google search.”

you sigh.

still not understanding how drastically your life was gonna differ, you’re afraid of change. it’s why it was so difficult for you to leave home years back. you didn’t mind change.

you just tried to avoid it as much as you could. on top of that you still haven’t informed your family. your mom would be livid she missed your wedding, let alone getting married to someone who’s practically a stranger.

on top of that, you haven’t told zayn about something you’re sure he should know. you didn’t want him to look at you differently or regret the decision of marrying you.

“i—could we maybe try and keep it private for a few months? just so we could enjoy our honeymoon period? i just don’t want people to know just yet. plus id like you to meet my family first. i wanna meet yours as well. is that okay?”

zayn smiles.

“of course, babe! whatever you want. you don’t need to stress, okay? taryn, the other thing?” zayn looks at her.

taryn smiles as she hands you a black debit card. you frown. “what’s this?”

“what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine! i put your name on my bank account. you can use this card whenever you need anything, baby.”

“zayn, i don’t need your money.”

“i know, but i want you to have this. even if you never use it!” zayn states.

“you’re already trying to spoil me, huh?”

“he does that! always give, give, give. could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.” taryn gently pushes his shoulder.

you smile lovingly at him. “im gonna head to see bobby. she’s expecting me. you two love birds enjoy your night.” taryn smirks before leaving.

zayn smiles while you blush. he kisses you passionately. it wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy kissing him. he’s an amazing kisser! but you needed him to know before anything happens. you pulled away quickly. zayn frowns.

“what’s wrong?”

you get up and pace around. “i—before anything goes further i need you to know. im not exactly experienced.”

“what do you mean?”

you sigh. “i mean, i had been saving myself for the right person.”

his eyes widened. “you mean, you’re—”

“yes, im a virgin, zayn. is that—is that okay?”

zayn gets up and grabs your hand. “baby, it’s okay. and if you’re not ready ill understand, okay? i just want you to be comfortable.”

you sigh in relief. “thank you, zayn. most guys aren’t so accepting. it’s why i was nervous to tell you.”

“guys are dicks! i however am a man, baby.” zayn smirks.

you blush once more. “could we maybe, cuddle tonight? i—im ready but i just—im also not. does that make sense?”

zayn hums.

“anything you want, ill be right behind you, love.”

the two of you walk into your bedroom before holding one another and falling asleep in each others arms.

#zayn x black fem!reader #zayn x fem!reader #zayn zquad #zayn x reader #room under the stairs #icarus falls #mind of mine #jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #zayn fluff #zayn smut #zayn imagine #zayn fanfic #midnight sky jqhotchner

22 notes · View notes

samwpmarleau · 2 months ago

Text

fic: sliding doors

whumptober day 15: childhood trauma masterlist: tumblr, ao3 It could have gone like this.

It’s comically easy to run away from the Olsens. Climb out the window, dig her sneakers into the seams between the bricks to shimmy down the wall, only almost fall twelve times, freedom. Eleven-year-old Mary Sue Poots has done this before. Not from the Olsens, they’re fairly new, but others. This family is fine. Not the worst she’s had. They’re predictable in their anger, they telegraph it to Mary Sue’s well-trained eyes.

Usually, anyway. Her wrists twinge with the results of Mrs. Olsen’s iron grip that Mary Sue had been slow to anticipate.

It’s less than a mile to the nearest subway station, and a pleasant day outside to boot, only mildly humid in comparison to the soup that the rest of summer has been. She swipes her metro card and slips onto the next train, destination: Queens.

While she’s been to the Hall of Science before, it was only for a few minutes. The Rykersons’ three-year-old had gotten fussy, making enough of a scene that his parents shuffled them all off to the park instead. That was six months ago, and Mary Sue has been wanting to finish the visit ever since. She stares up at the curved building, finesses her way through the entrance (“Oh, my mom and dad are just outside, ma’am, see? Those two there. They’ve got my little sister to get situated and told me to just go on ahead. I’m really excited, I’ve enrolled in the science fair at school and everything!”), and begins to absorb everything it has to offer.

Four exhibits in, Mary Sue’s attention is caught by a boy around her age animatedly talking to what she assumes are his parents. He takes after his father in appearance, she observes, all lanky and curly-haired, but he shares the laugh of his heavily pregnant mother, who has folded up one of the museum maps to use as a fan.

They look happy. They look like the sort of family Mary Sue’s always wished she had.

It’s not fair.

Even more unfair is how she’s too distracted to notice the Watch Your Step sign near her feet and promptly face-plants, hard.

Mary Sue considers lying where she is, forever. If she doesn’t look up from the carpet, she won’t be able to see what she knows is everyone making fun of her.

“Hey, you okay?”

Mary Sue sighs. Lying here will not, apparently, work out. Not that her plans ever do. If they did, she’d have found a home by now.

With a grunt, she moves into a sitting position and regards the speaker. It’s the boy that had captured her attention in the first place, his big brown eyes earnest. “I’m fine, thanks.”

The boy lets out a little gasp. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” Mary Sue glances down at her hands, which, indeed, are scraped raw and welling with drops of blood.

“Mom!” the boy calls over his shoulder.

“No, don’t,” she pleads. The last thing she needs is more attention.

Too late.

“What’s your name, mija?” the boy’s mother asks as his father gently helps her to her feet.

“Mary Sue.”

“Are your parents nearby, Mary Sue?”

“Yeah, they’re … around. Back at the bubble part, I think.” The woman’s eyes are as big and brown as her son’s, and very kind. They make Mary Sue almost not want to lie.

“Berto,” the woman says to her husband, “see if you can find them. Take Robbie with you.”

He complies with an encouraging smile in Mary Sue’s direction and ushers along his son into the previous exhibit. Robbie gives her a little wave as he leaves. Mary Sue responds with half of one.

“I’m Juliana,” says the boy’s mother. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up a little?”

Mary Sue lets herself be all but manhandled to the nearest restroom. For being as far along as she is, Juliana is surprisingly agile. “I can take care of it myself,” Mary Sue says, trying not to sound rude.

Juliana assesses her as she wets a paper towel. “I’m sure you can. Hands, please.”

Grumpily, Mary Sue holds out her hands and lets Juliana daub away the blood and grit. She sucks in a sharp breath as Juliana inadvertently presses on a particularly tender part. “Ow.”

“I’m sorry. Almost done.”

From her purse, Juliana pulls out two band-aids and secures them over the scrapes. A quiet groan escapes her lips as she straightens, her hand pressing into her lower back. Mary Sue comments, “You look like you’re gonna pop.”

“Wish he’d hurry up,” Juliana laughs. “Still a couple more weeks yet.”

“What’s his name?”

“Gabriel.”

“Like the archangel? He was a messenger.” I am Gabriel, recites Sister Maggie’s voice in her head, that stand in the presence of God, and am sent to speak unto thee.

“Yes, that, but it was my father’s name. He passed not long ago.”

“Oh.”

“Many your age wouldn’t know who Gabriel is,” Juliana says. “Sunday school?”

“More like every day school.” Juliana tilts her head in question, and Mary Sue reluctantly elaborates, “I’m from St. Agnes’s. It’s an orphanage.”

Juliana’s face morphs into one Mary Sue is all too familiar with: pity. “So when you say your parents …?”

“Met ’em a couple weeks ago.”

Mary Sue reaches up to fix her mussed hair, which proves to be a mistake. As her sleeves fall down past her forearms, Juliana sucks in a breath. The bruises. Crap.

“Fight at school,” Mary Sue says by rote. She’s got this routine down to a science.

Voice carefully measured, Juliana asks, “Get into a lot of fights, do you? Some of those look old.”

“I can be a brat. People don’t usually like that.”

“A brat?”

“Thanks for the band-aids,” Mary Sue sidesteps quickly. “I’ve gotta go.”

“To your parents?”

“Yeah.”

“All right, let’s go see if Alberto’s tracked them down yet. Maybe we can all get some lunch together.”

Mary Sue knows that tone. The fakeness of it. Juliana has no interest in making nice, and Mary Sue would get the blowback. No thanks.

“I think we have plans already. Mom mentioned something. I’ll find them, you guys don’t have to wait around.”

“Oh. Okay, well …” Juliana reaches again into her purse and scrounges up a pen and a crumpled receipt. She jots down her name and a pager number. “Here. In case you want to meet us later. We saw a Korean barbecue place not too far from here that looked good.”

Mary Sue obediently, impatiently, pockets the receipt.

Unfazed, Juliana’s eyes search Mary Sue’s. She implores, “We’ll be in the city for another week.”

———

Mary Sue doesn’t plan on using the number or Juliana’s hospitality. The woman probably hadn’t meant it. But later that night as she lies in bed listening to the Olsens discuss what to do with her ungrateful self, she fiddles with the edges of the band-aids. Juliana and her family would have finished their barbecue long ago. Mary Sue’s stomach growls at the thought. The Olsens had skipped her dinner.

“— send her back.”

“Garth, no, of course not. We need her.”

“If this is a habit, though … Cheryl, neither of us have the patience for all that.”

“Let’s sleep on it. No reason to rush to a decision.”

Mary Sue grits her teeth at the conversation. Maybe Garth and Cheryl wouldn’t call up St. Agnes’s immediately, maybe they would even wait a week or two. But it always ends up the same: Mary Sue on the steps of the orphanage, her worldly possessions tucked tight into a backpack.

Glad that at least the Olsens had thought their volatile reaction would dissuade her from doing anything rash, she once more pries up the window, shimmies down the wall, and leaves the cul-de-sac. She comes to a stop outside the corner bodega; or, more accurately, the bodega’s payphone. Carefully, for she doesn’t have a whole lot of extra change, she punches in the numbers Juliana had written down. At the prompt, she inputs the number of the payphone, and waits.

It takes only seconds for the phone to ring, as though Juliana had been waiting for it. And she had, as Mary Sue is greeted not with a confused hello but, “Mary Sue?”

“I lied to you, Mrs. Reyes,” Mary Sue says.

“What did you lie about?”

Mary Sue shuts her eyes. The idea of confessing to someone, to someone she barely knows no less, makes her heart race. But what is the alternative? She will never get such an opportunity again, of that she is sure.

“What you saw earlier … I mean, my parents, they … um …”

“Tell me where you are.”

She does, and fifteen minutes later a solemn-faced Alberto ushers her into a cab. From Juliana’s endless purse she gets a travel pack of tissues to dry her tears.

The rest happens in a blur. Mary Sue doesn’t quite understand how it’s accomplished, only that before she knows it, she and the Reyeses are sitting in Sister Maggie’s office and Juliana asks, “Would you like to come with us, mija?”

Mary Sue agrees before the question is even finished, much to Sister Maggie’s bewilderment. One long plane ride later, she walks up the steps of a modest but well-kept home in east Los Angeles.

Which is exactly what it is, she realizes: a home. At last, she has a home.

———

It doesn’t happen like that, of course. Mr. Olsen yells, Mrs. Olsen’s backhand cuts a gash in Mary Sue’s cheek, and first thing the next morning, they send her straight back to the orphanage. Sister Maggie asks about the gash. Mary Sue says she fell off her bike. What use would there be in telling the truth, after all? The nuns wouldn’t care, not when they themselves regularly wield rulers that leave fat, bleeding welts on Mary Sue’s knuckles.

She dreams about it, though. Juliana with her mija and her bandages, Alberto with his kind smile, Robbie who’d called over his parents with worry for a mere stranger. Baby Gabriel, soon, wailing and wanted. The family she could have.

Could have, but won’t. Mary Sue can wail, but she will never be wanted.

#daisy johnson #juliana reyes #robbie reyes #alberto reyes #agents of shield #whumptober2024 #no.15 #childhood trauma #fic #my fic

7 notes · View notes

dirtywrestling · 9 months ago

Text

No Strings Attached - Randy Orton (18+)

Commission: @thesimonkshow

Pairing: Randy Orton x Simon

Summary: Things get a little heated between Simon and Randy after the little visit from Rachel, Randy’s wife.

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Cursing, Smut, Cheating/Affairs, Minors DNI

Word Count: 4,765

Parts: One / Two

Follow My Backup Blog!: @dirtywresling102

Nothing was more awkward than laying wide awake that night on the couch staring at the ceiling and listening to Randy’s wife, Rachel trying to start something.

“Come on, I’m sure he’s asleep.” She whispered, more like talking softly since the room was quiet as it was.

“Rachel, no. Just go to bed.” Randy argued. I heard him rolling over as she huffed.

“What’s going on? You use to fuck me and hard.” The tone in her voice slightly got higher, annoyingly higher.

“Shh, okay, okay, fine.” Randy snapped. I froze in my spot on the couch that was mere feet away from the bed, hearing suffling. There was no way Randy was going to fuck his wife in front of me. So I thought, it wasn’t until that first moan Rachel released that made me cringe.

That night hasn’t left my head, her cringy moans still echoed in my head as Randy pounded her into the mattress. She eventually left that morning and I did too. I haven’t spoken to Randy since that night. It crushed me, my heart ached and I didn’t know what to do. I knew eventually something was going to happen but him having sex with his wife right in front of me and an hour after having sex with me, I felt used.

While I worked backstage and saw Randy, I’d immediately worked at a different station so I could avoid him. “Hey Simon.” Looking up in the direction my name was being called, it was Mark. “Hey man, could you restalk the buffet for the wrestlers?”

“Isn’t that the intern’s job?” I questioned, eyebrows furrowed. I wasn’t in the mood to do something an intern was supposed to be doing.

“He called in today, it’s a quick job please before the wrestlers get hangry.”

Huffing, I left my job position. I was working on making sure each lens for the cameras were cleaned and not cracked, so I made my way towards the table full of food. Ripping open a plastic holder full of water bottles I started to stalk the cooler with them and diet sodas along with other warm beverages that needed to be cold. “They got you on bitch boy duty, huh?”

I groaned as I knew that voice. “Leave me alone, I’m working.” I opened up a box of sodas, shoving the warm cans into the cool ice chest.

“Simon, please. I’ve said I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Randy exclaimed a little too loudly, making everyone look over at us. Looking back at the people who were staring I gave them a weak smile only to grab Randy by the wrist and drag him away from the catering table.

“What Randy? What could you possibly fucking want?” I shoved him against the nearest wall a little too roughly as Randy’s back hit up against it, surprised by my actions.

“Simon, please. I didn’t mean for that night to end up like that. I didn’t even know she was coming to visit.” Randy defended himself.

“You fucked her in front of me!” I said through my gritted teeth.

“She was suspecting something, Simon.” Randy explained. “I had to, she wouldn’t stop or worse she would have found out about us.”

“You hurt me.” I frowned, slouching my shoulders. “You hurt me Randy and you lied to her about me being a wrestler.”

“And look where you’re at, you’re working part time as a crew member and you’re training to be a wrestler!” Randy exclaimed with a proud smile.

“Because you lied! You even lied to Vince about me wanting to be a wrestler and now look where I’m at!” I extended my arms, forcing him to look at my tired eyes with dark circles under them. “I’m tired! This isn’t the life for me, Randy.”

“Shh, shh.” Randy hushed me, looking around as workers walked back and forth like busy beez getting the show ready for tonight. “Listen, we debut tonight. I need you on your A game, okay?” Randy cupped his large hand against my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered. “Months and months of training and soon you’ll be a full time wrestler. No more dealing with the wires or being forced to stalk the catering table. It’ll just be me and you, okay?” His voice was softer now and that’s all I wanted to focus on, his sweet voice that was full of promises.

The pad of Randy’s thumb traced over my pouty lips. “I want you to forget backstage for now, I want you to focus on getting ready for tonight.”

Looking away from Randy’s baby blue eyes I sighed. “Okay.” I mumbled.

“Great.” Randy perked up, scanning the area real quick before planting a kiss on my lips.

“I’m still mad at you.” I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, making Randy frown.

As the night went on my anxiety spiked. The closer we got to call time for our match the more my palms became sweaty. I looked at myself in the large body mirror one last time at the gorilla. Randy was in new attire, white, red and gold trunks while I was in the same color but in stretchy pants so I had more ability to move in the ring. I wasn’t built like Randy, so I couldn’t pull off the trunks but I was close.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I was about to walk away, my heart hammering in my chest as my throat was tightening up, it was getting harder to breath and it felt like I was about to puke.

Randy grabbed my bicep as I walked past him to run away. “Hey, hey, hey.” Randy gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You’re fine, you’re alright. Just breathe.” He said calmly, a little too calm.

“How are you so calm?” I frowned, tears nearly escaping from my eyes. I didn’t want to keep this lie up anymore just to be hidden in the shadows from his wife and us in the closet.

“I’ve been doing this for years, Simon. I still get nervous.” He grabbed my wrist, placing my hand against his bare chest. I felt his heart thumping fast just like mine was.

“You’re nervous?” I whispered, surprised. The Viper, The Legend Killer, thee Randy Orton still gets nervous?

“Of course I still get nervous..” He tossed his head back in laughter. “It’s another show in a different city.” Randy played with my fingers. “All these months you’ve been training, you’ve been growing.” Randy’s eyes wandered over me. “You look amazing by the way.” His voice was low so no one around us could hear.

Biting my lip to hide my smile, I looked down at the ground. We even had matching colored shoes on. He wore boots where I wore more athletic running shoes.

“Simon, Randy. You’re about to go on.” One of the producers said, clipboard in hand with a black headset over his ears.

Thanking the producer, I exhaled a breath. “Breathe, just breathe. You’re going to do great.” Randy smiled. He let go of my hand as his music blared through the speakers, making me flinch at the loudness. “Come on, you’ll love it.”

Randy was right, I did love it. I thought being behind the camera was my place, but having the camera, lights and crowd focused on me made my anxiety disappear and adrenaline appear in my veins. My heart hammered as Xavier Woods and I were doing a spot in the ring while Randy and Kofi were throwing shots at each other on the outside of the ring, keeping each other busy.

Hitting the ropes, I bounced off and ran towards Xavier, jumping in the air slightly. I connected a cross body to him. Xavier fell with me on top of him, still having a hold of his body. I stood up, pulling him close into a German suplex but not letting him go. Arching my back and digging my toes deep into the mat I pinned him with a bridge. The ref slid next to us and slammed his hand onto the white surface of the mat three times. I was expecting Xavier to kick out and to do a comeback where it made Randy and I lose.

Shooting up from the pin, Xavier’s tired body laid limp on the mat where I looked around in pure shock. “We won?” I asked the ref as he grabbed onto my wrist, making me stand up on my two feet and raised my hand in victory. Randy ran towards the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and rushed towards me.

“You won! You pinned him!” Randy smiled, giving me a hug. He wrapped his sweaty large arms around my slender body. I couldn’t help but to lean into his chest, smelling his scent. “Come on, we gotta go so they can start up the next match.” Randy said, helping me out of the ring. “You know what this means right?” Randy asked as we shook and high fived fans while making our way up the ramp.

“No, what?” I was confused as I collided with a younger fan’s hand.

Stopping at the top of the ramp Randy looked at the large Summerslam sign that was lit up. “This means we’re the number one contenders for the tag team championships.” Randy smiled as he raised his arm up and pointed at the sign.

It was that night Randy and I really had our first fight, face to face. My mouth was stuffed full with his cock as it choked me while I sucked him off. We were finally getting back into the groove after what happened with him and his wife months ago. “Fuck, I missed your mouth on me.” Randy hummed, resting his head back on the couch as he ran his fingers through my hair. “Feel so good.” He murmured. I looked up at him the best I could while suckling him. He felt twice as thicker and tastier than the last time.

It felt like a fever dream, I was back where I belonged. In between Randy’s legs, his throbbing cock down my throat with him telling me how much of a good boy I’ve been. My eyes snapped open as I heard his phone ringing. Randy let out an annoying sigh, picking up the newest model iPhone he had. “I have to take this.” He said after looking at the caller ID. With that he pushed me off, letting his hard cock slide out of my mouth. “Hey baby.” He answered.

“Hey baby?” I said back in a softer tone with confusion laced in. I sat back on my knees as I watched Randy talk to the woman he’s been cheating on with a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, you watch the match? Oh you like me in those colors?” He purred, his hand wrapping around his cock that I made hard. I furrowed my eyebrows as he blew me off to talk to her and Randy soon noticed. “Uh, listen baby. I’m in the middle of something. I’ll let you go. I love you.” He then hung up.

“I love you?” I repeated what he said. “You have never said ‘I love you’ to that woman since we’ve started this.” My blood started to boil.

“Simon, look she’s still my wife.”

“That you cheat on.” I spat back.

“I still have to show I have feelings for her.” Randy furrowed his eyebrows.

“I have feelings for you, Randy!” I yelled. “Me! I love you, I’m the one spending time with you, not her! I’m the one letting you fuck me whenever you need it! I don’t see her pleasing you!” Tears started to swell up in the corner of my eyes.

“You love me?” Randy arched his eyebrow. “Simon,” Randy scoffed. “I’m a married man, this was more so experimenting.” He confessed. “You really thought I had feelings for you?” He cracked a smile as I stayed silent only to follow up with a laugh.

Standing up, I hovered over Randy as he was still seated on the sofa, cackling. Balling up my fist, I pulled it back and threw it towards him, connecting to his cheek bone. The tattooed male hissed in pain. “Ouch, Simon! What the fuck!” Randy held his cheek as it already started to swell from the harsh force.

“Fuck you, Randy!” Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. Gathering my things, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

Summerslam was finally upon us. The biggest night for the wrestling company during the summer. “Are you going to talk to me?” A male’s voice asked behind me as I wrapped tape around my wrist.

“I have nothing to say to you.” I kept focusing on the white tape, wrapping it around and around again until there wasn’t any left on the roll.

“Look, Simon.” Randy began but the music for us hit.

“See you out there.” I stepped behind the curtain. As I appeared at the top of the ramp I looked over the sea of people that cheered loudly as I started to walk towards the ring. My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to steady my legs that felt like jelly. Getting inside the ring, I nodded towards the ref and made my way to our side of the corner. Hearing Randy’s theme I looked up towards the entrance. Seeing him walk out confidently taking long strides made me break out in goosebumps. Why did this man have to be so good looking? I shook my head, remembering that I was still mad at him.

The first ten minutes of the match was already feeling like Hell for me. My body ached, my head was split open to where blood was dripping down my face. Whenever we took a small break, all of us laying on the ground after a large spot, Randy would try to see if I was okay. “I’m fine!” I hissed, which made me quickly get up to start the next spot with Aj.

As I breathed heavily, my stomach hurt with each inhale I took. Being in the middle of the ring, I crawled towards Randy who had his hand stretched out trying to tag himself in. “Come on baby, come on!” Randy chanted.

Omos quickly ran from his corner all the way towards Randy, kicking him in the face. “Randy!” I yelled as he fell from the ring side and a loud thud as he collided with the floor.

Slowly standing up I looked over at the ref who was checking on Randy. Seeing Omos laughing at me I kicked him in between his legs, knowing he would be too big for me to go one on one with. Omos cried out in pain as he cupped himself through his pants. Hearing Aj behind me, I snapped my head in his direction and gave him an RKO. The ref looked inside the ring to see what all the commotion was and quickly left Randy to slide in as he counted. As the bell rang, I immediately rolled out of the ring, not caring about raising my hand in victory or the titles. Rushing to Randy who was still laying on the outside of the ring.

“Randy, Randy. Are you okay?” I looked over his face to see if there was any boot print but there was nothing.

Randy smirked looking up at my worried face. “You care about me.” He teased me. “Did you finish him with a RKO?” He laughed lightly.

Scoffing, I helped him up to his feet. “You scared me.”

“Me scare you? Look at you. Your face is covered in blood.” He frowned.

Blinking, I brought my hand to my face, wiping away the red liquid that now coats my hand. “It appears so.”

“Come on, let’s get you backstage.” Randy held me close just in case I lost consciousness from the blood loss. “Oh wait. One more thing.” He looked back at the ring and grabbed our red and silver tag team titles. “Now we can go backstage.” As Randy helped me walk up the ramp I waved to my friends and family members that were sitting in the front row.

“Way to go Simon!” I heard them cheer. A small smile formed on my lips with a blush of embarrassment as we kept moving.

“Friends seem nice.” Randy pointed out.

I squinted as the trainer flashed a light in my eye. “You have a concussion.” He said as he took off his gloves. “Just make sure you don’t sleep for a few hours, get something to eat. Occupy yourself so you won’t fall asleep. Keep those stitches clean too.” He said tossing his gloves into the trash that was piled up with bloody gauzes from when they cleaned up my busted head.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, now feeling the aftermath of the stitches. My head was starting to pound and the bright lights weren’t helping my eyes. Standing up Randy was already by my side, matter of fact he didn’t leave the room when I received my stitches.

“I was thinking we can go out and eat to celebrate?” He suggested as we both walked out of the trainer’s room and down the hall to our locker room.

“No.” I said, pushing past the door into our locker room, I went straight to my bag and started to unlace my boots.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Randy frowned. “Simon, come on. I said I was sorry, we’re a tag team now with the gold.”

“I mean no, as in no.” I straightened up and furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him. “I have friends and family here supporting me tonight, I’m celebrating with them.”

“Simon, please.” Randy’s voice sounded sincere. “That night, the way I acted towards you was uncalled for.”

“Yeah, you think?” I huffed as I kicked off one boot and started with the other. “You hurt my feelings, Randy. I love you- I loved you.” I corrected myself.

“And I love you!” Randy shouted, making it echo off the white locker room walls and into my ears. There was a pause, swallowing. I finally turned around, looking at him.

“You love me?” I repeated, not too sure if I heard him correctly.

“Jesus, Simon of course I love you.” Randy said a bit softer this time. “Rachel, that woman, I don’t like who I’ve become when I’m with her.” Randy confessed. “My time with you, nearly two years of us and just us. This has been the most fun I’ve had and people like me now because you’ve made me into a better person.”

“Would explain your mood swings.” I mumbled, recalling a few times Randy had picked up his rudeness again.

“She’s not the one I want to be with.” Randy stepped forward, grabbing my hand into his larger ones. “I want to be with you, Simon. It’s always been you.” His blue eyes were becoming red and puffy with the lack of sleep and tears now forming in his eyes.

“You swear?” I whispered, this couldn’t be real. Was this some sort of trick?

“I swear to you. I can barely sleep when you’re not by my side.” The tip of his finger traced over my palm.

“Oh Randy.” I sighed out, throwing myself against him, I wrapped my arms around his neck where he wrapped around my waist, holding me tight. “I love you so much, Randy.” I mumbled against the crook of his neck, nuzzling deeper.

“I love you too.” Randy sighed happily, his fingers lazily trailing along my hips. “How about we celebrate the proper way?” He purred, his fingers dipping into the hem of my pants.

“You mean it?” My eyes shined as I looked up at him, it’s been awhile since he’s fully focused on me and only me.

“Yeah, I mean it.” He hummed, pushing my pants down. I kicked off my last boot to the side and helped him get the sticky pants off me. “Look at you, you’re already hard.” Randy chuckled as he grabbed onto my cock and gave it a squeeze. A half breath left my throat as I swallowed my moans. “Nuh- huh. I want to hear you, I crave to hear you.” Randy slowly started to stroke my cock.

“Please, Randy faster.” I begged as I buckled my hips against his touch.

“Such a sweet boy, always begging.” Randy applied a tighter grip as he started to pump my cock faster. As my legs wobbled, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against Randy’s shoulder. “Easy.” He laughed at how I became limp from his touch. Randy pulled his hand away from my cock making me whimper. “Shh, sit down.” Randy ordered.

Sitting my bare ass on the cool wooden bench, Randy knelt down in front of me, eyeing my throbbing erection and heavy balls. “Randy, please.” I squirmed in my seat as I waited for him to touch me.

“Such a needy thing.” Randy chuckled, as he grabbed my ankles and placed them over his shoulders, exposing me. “Hold on to something.” Randy planted his hands on my waist as he dipped his head in between my legs, he licked softly against my hole. A shuttering moan escaped my lips from the feeling of his wet tongue teasing me.

“Oh, Randy.” I arched my back, pushing my waist against his face as one of his hands left my waist and spread my cheeks to get a better taste. His tongue lapped small circles around my muscle. Grabbing the back of his head, I pushed him further in between my cheeks. “Randy, please. Fuck me with your tongue.”

A low growl rumbled through Randy’s chest as he dipped the tip of his tongue inside of me, swirling it around inch by inch he forced his tongue a little further. Slurping sounds from the way Randy flicked his tongue made me even harder than before. Feeling Randy’s hot mouth pull away from me, I cursed under my breath only to suck in another, feeling the warm tip of his finger pressing against my hole. “Yes, yes please.” Pushing my hips towards Randy, I tried to get his finger inside of me and skip the teasing but he paused when his phone started to ring.

We both looked where his phone was, resting on top of his duffle bag, the photo of Rachel flashed on his screen, making me frown. Randy looked back at me only to look back at his phone and reach for it. Sitting up, I was about to get up and start packing only to my surprise Randy clicked the decline button, making the ringtone stop and forcing her to voicemail. “I’m all yours tonight, baby.” Randy smiled. “I want my cock buried in your sweet ass.”

Randy pushed my upper half down onto the bench, forcing me to lay down again. Pushing his trunks down, he stepped out of them and threw one leg over the bench to where the bench was now in between his legs. Randy scooted me closer to him where his large cock rested against my hole. “Fuck, you look so hot.” Randy grabbed his cock and started to stroke it. “My champion.” He purred.

“Wait Randy.” My eyes looked over at the unlock door. My family and friends were somewhere backstage looking for me. “My friends they’re expecting me- oh fuck Randy!” I cried out as Randy pushed his large mushroom tip into my tight ring.

“Yeah, you want your friends to walk in and find you so stuffed with my cock?” He chuckled, pushing his cock deeper into me. “You better stay quiet or else.” Randy demanded as he pulled his hips back only to slam back into me. My jaw dropped at the intimate feeling we shared. It’s been so long since Randy has been inside of me that it nearly makes me want to come. “Show your friends how much of a cock slut you really are.”

My bottom lip was pinned in between my teeth, biting down harshly so my screams wouldn’t escape. Randy’s thrusts became short and hard with each movement. “Fuck I miss you, I missed this tight ass.” Randy’s fingers dug into the flesh of my ass as his cock pounded faster into me. My body jolted forward slightly with each thrust, the wood nipping at my back from the fast friction being created. My stiff cock jumped with each movement Randy did.

Wrapping my hand around my cock, I started to stroke it. “Good boy, such a good boy. Play with your cock, you deserve it baby.” Randy praised as he grabbed my legs, tossing them over his shoulders, he tilted his head, kissing my calf.

“I’m so close.” I moaned, arching my back as I pumped my cock faster, squeezing it tighter. My stomach clenched as my balls ached, growing closer to my orgasm.

“Come for me baby, don’t hold back. Come for daddy.” Randy’s hips snapped forward in quick movements, not missing a beat. “Come for me baby boy.” Randy encouraged me as his cock swelled inside of me. “I’m right behind you.” His voice gravely with every word.

Fluttering my eyes shut, I squeezed the tip of my cock and jerked downward, coming back up I squeezed the tip once more and fucked my hips into the tight grip. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I climaxed all over my chest and hand. “Oh god, fuck.” I cried out loudly.

Randy’s thrusts never stopped as he watched himself disappear and reappear with each movement. “So hot.” He mumbled to himself. The sight of Randy fucking into me must have done it for him because with a harsh snap of his hips, he was deeply inside of me, emptying his spunk. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He moaned. “I can feel your walls spazzing around my cock.” His legs shook as he rode out his high. “Fuck, oh my god.” He gasped for air as he slowly slipped out of me. His creamy ooz pouring out of my fucked hole.

“I need a fucking shower.” I panted as my body went limp on the hard uncomfortable surface of the small bench.

“Well, let me clean you up.” Randy hummed, kneeling down once again he wrapped his lips around my sticky come covered cock, cleaning me.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” I breathed out, trying to push Randy off of my over sensitive cock. “Randy, fuck my cock.” I whined as he swirled his tongue over my twitching tip. He nearly started to make me hard again if it wasn’t for the loud slam of the door opening making myself and Randy jump.

“R- Randy?” A female voice spoke.

I swallowed hard to see Randy’s wife standing in the doorway, wearing his shirt in support of him during this big night.

“Fuck.” Randy whispered as he quickly grabbed the nearest thing to cover him which was his ring gear. “Rachel, wait listen to me.” He got in front of me to shield my naked body.

“God! I can’t even look at you!” Tears appeared in her eyes as she left the doorway and down the hall.

“Randy?” I whispered to see him frozen in his spot. “Lets get cleaned up, come on Randy.” I said, going towards the door I shut it and locked it so no one else could come stumbling in. “Come on baby, let’s shower.”

All these times Randy took care of me, now it was my job to take care of him.

Randy Orton's Masterlist

#dirty wrestling #randy orton oneshot #wrestling blog #wrestling fanfic #randy orton fanfic #wrestling imagines #wrestling stories #wrestling commission #wrestling oneshot #randy orton commission #randy orton x oc #randy orton x male!reader #male!reader #wrestling smut #randy orton smut #wrestling smut blog

9 notes · View notes

palenightmarefestival · 8 months ago

Note

It was a bustling day in the city of Setagaya. Everything appeared to be moving at an alarming pace, Though that might as well be rather normal. There weren’t any special occasions happening on this ordinary day were there?

Oh yes there was, Although maybe not as special according to the deliverer…

[It’s been 5 hours…They better like this gift or else I won’t be rather happy…] Mai thought as they spotted their birthday target out on the streets, Mina is all they could remember for a name. Breaking into a jog, They tapped her on the shoulder bracing themself.

“Here, This is for you…Hope you like it…Oh, Happy B-day…” Mai explained, Handing them the small parcel and stepping back.

“You’ll thank me and my team later…” They added as Mai left, walking towards the nearest train station.

[Onii-san and Yuno-chin have some explaining to do…] Mai thought bitterly, Observing the looming station coming into view. Inside…Were a package of black and red candy apples.

[Happy B-Day from Fukuokanodivision, Apologies if Mai was rather a buzzkill this time.]

Mina really didn't want to leave the house today. For one, it was her birthday, and all she wanted to do was relax on today without anything bothering her. And secondly, it was still daylight, which meant the sun was out, and it made her rather lethargic. Even with the hoodie that Yorii had brought her earlier, it still hurt being out. Thankfully, it wasn't all that crowded. If there was one thing Mina hated more than the sun, it was large bodies of people, which was ironic, as the thing she disliked more than that, was the feeling of being alone.

So why was she outside exactly? Apparently, one of her acquaintances on the student council absolutely needed something from the Student Council Room. And seeing as how Mina was one of the few people who had access to the room, they called and begged her to let her in. Elliot volunteered to go in her steed, but Mina refused not wanting to bother her younger brother. She was thankful the trip was quick, as she resumed her journey back to her adobe, telling herself she wasn't leaving for the rest of the day.

As she made her way back, she felt someone tap on her shoulder, which instantly put the vampire's defences up. Preparing to possibly hurt whomever it was, they stopped and looked as it was a strange person wearing a black/neon red street corset under a black varsity jacket, along with a black/neon red checkered miniskirt with blood red wrapping, black heels and a neon red SnapBack hat.

Cocking an eyebrow, Mina was prepared to ask the strange individual what they wanted until they suddenly thrust something in the vampire's hands, making her frown even more. Before she could get a word out, the person fled in the direction of the train station. Normally, Mina would have hunted them down for this, but she really wasn't in the mood. Giving a quick glance as to what the items were, she looked as they were some candy apples.

Sighing, Mina knew the person, whomever they were, were just trying to be nice. Unfortunately, Mina's body couldn't handle normal human food, so this "gift" was wasted on her.

"Oh well," Mina thought. "I know Yorii will like them..."

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #mina nakayama #happy birthday mina 2024 #engima #setagaya division #mai yousei

8 notes · View notes

ashxketchum · 11 months ago

Text

Happy Valentine's Mimato fam, please accept this very cracky in the start and very no thoughts only vibes at the end oneshot. I really wanted to write something for today, even if my idea didn't get executed very welll, I'm just happy that I wrote 4k words within a day! Not putting this on AO3 or FFN for now, this is for my tumblr girlies only 😙 dont denounce me from the fandom after reading it tho lol

*post dividers from @/cafekitsune

KISS ME, UNDER THE BLUE MOONLIGHT

Following a girl home was not exactly something Yamato had ever thought about doing, but it is how he ended up spending his Valentine’s evening. And this wasn’t just any girl that he was following, she was his friend, or acquaintance depending on who was asking.

To go back a few hours, Yamato was spending this 14th February as he always did, looking for places to hide from the throng of girls that followed him around with the hopes of shoving their chocolates in his hand. The year before he’d found a safe spot near the Science lab at their school but somehow today, when he rushed to the location, a bunch of girls were already standing guard around it. Cursing under his breath, he sharply turned on his heels and ran back the way he’d come before they noticed him, knowing very well that it must’ve been Taichi who sold him out for his own entertainment. He thought about heading to the soccer field to confront his friend publicly with the hope that his fangirls would follow and disrupt the practice, leading to Taichi being punished by the coach. But even in this imaginary scenario, Yamato hated the idea of any of the girls getting close enough to talk to him because then he’d definitely end up accepting the chocolate out of pity.

So the day went on and he continued his search for that perfect hiding spot, taking two or even three steps at once to climb the stairs as quickly as possible, attempting to be one with the wall by flattening himself against it or ducking out of view by diving into the nearest room whenever a threat came into view. But to Yamato’s dismay, he had pretty much exhausted every good location, so all he could do today was bade his time till school got over and then make his great escape. Obviously, on a day that he hoped time would pass quickly, it moved at a turtle’s pace. By the time the sky was tainted with the purple hues of a winter sunset, he was so tired of running away that Yamato did consider giving in, just once. He gained his determination back when he noticed a bunch of girls searching the bicycle parking shed for signs of his scooter, smirking to himself he commended his decision to take the train to school today.

Despite the minor win, Yamato knew that there would be another group scouting for him at the station so he had no other choice but to endure a long walk back home today, which is exactly why he’d brought his trusty running shoes along with him. Quickly wrapping Taichi’s muffler around his neck, donning a bright jacket he’d borrowed from Takeru over his uniform and covering his noticeable blond hair with a beanie, again borrowed from Takeru, Yamato smoothly walked past the group of girls searching for him in the parking and school front yard. Happy that his disguise had worked well, he took the route in the opposite direction of the train station, walking ahead without paying much attention to his surroundings.

He would’ve loved to have some good music playing in his ears at a time like this, but he’d left his earphones on his desk in an attempt to create an illusion that he hadn’t yet left school. So as he forged his way home, Yamato had no choice but to get accustomed to the noise of bustling Tokyo streets on Valentine’s Day. He picked up on the weirdest conversations as he walked, some made him want to laugh while others made him want to walk faster. Before he realised, however, he fell into step with a couple directly ahead of him.

A couple he realised were not a couple but his friends as their voices reached his ears.

“I just wish you’d stop ambushing me like this when you already know my answer.”

Yamato swallowed a gulp and paused walking, the person behind him bumped into him and shot him an annoyed look before moving on. He hoped that his friends hadn’t noticed him, which was highly possible since he was still behind them and well, his disguise was really that good. He tried to slow his pace and put some distance between them since this was a pretty long road and the only split was still many paces ahead. Yamato didn’t want to be privy to their conversation secretly, he decided that the minute he got the chance to cross the road, he’d move onto the other side and just pray that he’d be able to keep a straight face when he saw his friends next. But that was easier said than done, the path was too busy and as much as Yamato tried, he kept being pushed right back to his friends and had no control over when he'd end up hearing parts of their conversation.

“I just want you to give me a real chance.”

“Why is it so hard for you to respect my decision? I don’t want to do anything that would affect our friendship in any way!”

Yamato knew that if he heard anything more, it would be difficult for him to remain neutral on this topic. Chancing upon a convenience store not too far ahead, he quickened his pace to overtake his friends, who were too engrossed in their own conversation to notice him. Rushing into the store, he was grateful for not just the warmth inside, but also the pressure of keeping his presence a secret lifting off him. He stood by the newspaper and magazines rack near the entrance, and from the corner of his eye watched the scene play outside the store through the glass display. Although he could no longer hear his friends, he could tell that the argument had reached its peak from the way their faces darkened and bodies went rigid. It didn’t take too long for them to storm off in opposite directions, and Yamato could finally let go of the breath he was holding. Not wanting to look too suspicious, he bought a hot, canned coffee from the store and stepped back into the street, ready to resume his walk home.

Only one thing kept bothering him at the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure if the dim lighting on the street had messed with his vision, but he was sure he saw a few tears being shed at the end of the fight. The thought that one of his friends was out there, alone and distressed on a day that did nothing but shove love and companionship in your face nagged at him until he finally gave up and turned around to head back to where his friend had crossed the street, picking up his pace with a light jog, he hoped he’d be able to catch up on time.

And that’s how Yamato ended up following Mimi home.

At some point during his pursuit, he realised that he should announce his presence, but the moment had passed after about 20 minutes of walking behind her silently. Now he was just another creep waiting for the right chance, instead of a friend wanting to make sure she got home safe.

Something didn’t feel right to him, however. He admitted that he didn’t visit Mimi’s home often, but even then he was certain that the route they were following wouldn’t exactly lead there. Maybe she was unfocused because of the argument, he wondered, which would make his decision to check up on her worthwhile. But as they kept walking, their footsteps unknowingly in sync, the crowd around them thinned and the scenery of a busy shopping district turned into a quiet residential area. Even as Yamato glanced around in an unsure manner, he noticed Mimi seemed confident in her stride, like she knew exactly where she was going. Trusting her gut, he continued to follow her at a respectable distance, hoping that this was just some shortcut that would lead to her apartment sooner. He knew he’d have trouble sleeping at night unless he saw her enter the premises of her home safe and sound, so he had no choice but to see this through, no matter how confusing it was.

Although, Mimi seemed to have other plans for him.

Entering an empty playground on the side of the road, she made Yamato halt in his tracks. He couldn’t follow her in there without being found out. He stood on the side of the road, panicking whether he should go forward or quickly turn back the way he’d come. It was his slow decision making skills that landed him in trouble when Mimi emerged from the playground entrance and locked eyes with him from across the street.

“I have a pepper spray in my bag and I’m not afraid to use it, why are you following me?”

Yamato felt his ears turn hot at the utter embarrassment that enveloped him at her not-so-untrue accusation. He hastily pulled off Takeru’s beanie and Taichi’s muffler, hoping that his face would be visible to her despite the light from the street light flickering on and off. He stepped up a few paces closer and finally, her jaw dropped as recognition dawned on her.

“It’s just me, please don’t use your pepper spray.” Yamato cleared his throat, raising both his hands in front of him as a gesture of peace.

“Yamato san?” Mimi’s doe-like eyes widened as she looked him up and down, clearly surprised to see him under this creepy disguise. The shock did not subside from her face but her voice was less shrill and loud when she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I-uh.” Yamato rarely ever stuttered but he was feeling extremely embarrassed over his get-up, the situation and how no matter which way he worded his next words, Mimi would definitely put her guard up at the truth. “I accidentally saw your fight with-”

“Oh my god.” She groaned and slapped both her hands over her face, covering it from his view, though her pink ears were still visible.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe since you looked upset. I’m not trying to get involved or anything,” he said, feeling slightly more confident with his words once he shoved the beanie and muffler away in the bulky jacket and ran a hand through his hair to set it into its usual dishevelled feel.

Mimi considered his words for a few minutes, letting her hands drop from her face and instead folding them across her chest. She tapped a foot against the pavement impatiently, though her irritation didn’t seem to be directed at him.

“What’s with the-” She didn’t finish her question but just gestured towards his odd clothes, and once again Yamato felt his face heat up.

“Uh, I was just trying to get away from the chocolate crowd.” He admitted, knowing that any other fake explanation would only make him look more dumb.

Somehow his words brought a small smile to Mimi’s face, one that made her finally look like the Mimi he knew. The streetlight standing tall between them flickered once again, in the dark only the moonlight illuminated her face, her pink cheeks were stained lightly with tears, the tip of her nose was red from the cold wind, her lips were slightly parted as she gazed back at him and her caramel coloured eyes reminded him of all the chocolates that he’d spent the whole day avoiding. Feeling a weird, tight sensation rise in his chest, Yamato looked away from her and the white light from the lamp flooded over them once again.

“Well, that’s something we have in common today then,” she said, a hint of her usual laughter in her voice.

Yamato was relieved, while his intention of following Mimi was to ensure her safety, if he was able to get her mind off the fight and cheer her up even in the slightest, he’d feel twice as better. He decided to walk up closer to her, and as he did so the light above them went on and off a few times again, making him realise that even with just the faint glow of the moonlight shining down upon her, Mimi’s face didn’t lose its brightness, her radiance was something that didn’t come from her surrounding but from within and the better her mood, the more alluring her smile was.

“Are we close to your house yet or…?” Yamato asked, hoping to distract himself from the weird thoughts circling his mind by talking.

“Not really, I was worried some creep was following me so I started to take a lesser known path to the police station.” Mimi laughed carelessly, his stuttering reaction did not bother her and she tilted her head sideways to lock eyes with him, “Bright orange really isn’t your colour.”

If Yamato could take off the jacket and throw it as far as possible from him he would, but on account of not letting himself freeze to death, he swallowed his pride and focused on the matter at hand, “Let’s just go home, it’s getting late.”

Mimi nodded and gestured for him to follow her. As they fell into a similar stride at each other’s side, she took over the responsibility of keeping the conversation flowing between them.

“How many girls was it this year?” Her voice was laced with curiosity as she glanced sideways at him.

“I don’t know, I lost count after twenty or so.”

“Oh smooth brag, Yamato san, no wonder you’re so popular.”

“I’m not trying to brag and I really wish I wasn’t that popular.” He flushed at her teasing tone. One of the few reasons that he didn’t talk to Mimi often was because he couldn’t keep up with her most of the time. She was always a few steps ahead of him when it came to insults or pulling his leg and if he talked to her long enough, he was always bound to let something embarrassing about himself slip.

“I suppose I do sympathise with you slightly, most of those girls have no restraint, or at the very least they should show some class, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” Yamato said, the corner of his lips curving up in a smirk as for a change, he turned the tables back on her, “But you sound like you’ve given this some thought, so how would you pull it off?” While Mimi didn’t stop, she did send him an annoyed glance and attempted to quicken her pace with a huff but Yamato could still match his stride with her, thanks to his long legs.

They walked in silence for a while and Yamato felt content with himself. So what if he had to put on clothes that didn’t match his taste, he did successfully evade every confession attempt at school and he did manage to keep a friend company after a distressing moment, both of which were pretty big accomplishments in his eyes and he would revel at that thought for a while. Even if the voice at the back of his head was trying to tell him that he should keep some distance from Mimi for a while after this, he ignored it and kept walking forward with a smug smile settled on his face. Being a bit lost in his own thoughts, he was startled when Mimi suddenly exclaimed next to him.

“Actually, you’re right Yamato san. I have given it some thought,” she said, skipping two steps ahead of him while he was still surprised, she turned to face him with her hands behind her back and face tilting sideways. Her mischievous expression told him that he shouldn’t have celebrated so soon, so he gulped and just raised his eyebrows in question at her.

“I think that running after the guy you like at school is very elementary.” Mimi chuckled, shaking her head with her expression saying that she could never imagine doing something like that.

“So what would you do?” Yamato asked, getting swept away into her flow.

“Well for starters, I’d confess anywhere but at school,” she said, bringing one hand forward to twirl a strand of her pastel hair around her fingers. “I’d pick a more private location, somewhere far and secluded.” Mimi turned her head from side to side, observing their surroundings and Yamato followed suit.

They’d left the more residential neighbourhood far behind and were currently crossing a short bridge. Beyond the bridge, he could see a tall apartment building towering over other establishments and he recognised it as Mimi’s place. While the streets across the bridge did look crowded and busy, they currently stood in the smack middle of the structure and were mostly cut off from either side.

“I would try to create a situation, where the boy I like would have no choice but to stay close to me.” Mimi continued, not fazed by Yamato darting his head around their surroundings.

Suddenly, she moved a step closer to him, and he stopped looking around to fix his eyes on her.

“Then when he’s least expecting it-” She paused, looking directly into his eyes as she reached for her bag and unzipped it.

Yamato was somehow frozen to the spot but his mind was still running in overdrive. It couldn’t be, he reassured himself, there was no way this was a set-up.

And Mimi, of all people? It just couldn’t be...right?

When he noticed Mimi slip her hand inside the bag, he felt his heartbeat grow faster and louder. Every second that she rummaged through her bag sounded like a bomb ticking, getting ready to go off any instant.

He always practised a standard response to give to girls when he rejected him, but how could he use those words against Mimi? He’d known her since she was 10, he’d watched her grow from a scared and spoilt little girl into a fierce, determined companion who he could trust to fight alongside him. He couldn’t tell her that he didn’t think her personality would be the right fit for him when he knew exactly how much she’d grown as a person. He couldn’t tell her that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with his personal life when she was one of the few people who knew exactly what that statement conveyed. No, there was no way he could confront Mimi with such cheap, soulless lines, she deserved better than that.

As she slowly began to pull her hand out of the bag, Yamato squeezed his eyes shut, he wasn’t prepared to deal with what would happen next and he hoped that if he didn’t see it, he could avoid it. But to his surprise, a few seconds passed and Mimi was still silent, no confession or no plea for him to accept her chocolates. Taking a deep breath, he peeled his eyes open slowly and the sight in front of him had his mouth hanging open.

Mimi stood with her hands raised in front of her, empty of course, mimicking the same gesture he’d made when she’d caught him following her.

“Oh, Yamato san, you’re always so easy to fool!”

Yamato quickly closed his mouth as his hands balled into fists at his side, colour flooded his face and he gritted his teeth together to keep a string of curses from escaping his lips. Mimi’s laughter filled the hollowed silence between them and he fixed his furious gaze upon her. He racked his brain for something to say, anything that would make him sound calm and collected, the exact opposite of the fool he’d just made of himself, but his mind refused to work. All he could do was take in the sight of Mimi, standing proudly with her hands on her hips, a triumphant grin plastered wide across her face, illuminating her presence in such a way that even the moonlight shied away from her.

“But, I’m a little relieved, to say the least,” she said, the grin dissolving into a proud smile as she took another step towards him, “that you think of me as someone who could be in the running.”

In the running for what, he wanted to ask her, but he was afraid that if he allowed himself to be sucked into her flow, this would not be the worst embarrassment he’d face tonight. Yamato wanted to take a step back, and reassess the whole situation, figure out the best way to redeem himself while also paying Mimi back in kind. But his feet were stuck to the ground it seemed, and all he could do in that moment to gain clarity over himself was stare up at the dark sky.

Only the moon stood out on the dark blanket of the night city sky, the stars although present, held a faded existence in comparison. He found the pale, white glow oddly comforting, it reminded him of how he always stood out in the crowd but when people got close to him and saw all the rough edges or hollow craters, they’d turn away and wait for the sun to rise again. Mimi however, unlike other people enjoyed sharpening her knife against his edges, for a reason that he could never truly understand. She poked at him at every chance she got, waiting for him to burst open, but till now he’d managed to stand his ground against her temptations.

But today was different, perhaps their encounter was not something she had been expecting today, but she refused to shy away from it either. There was something in her voice, in her blatant teasing or there was something in the way she held his gaze even as he refused to look at her. He wondered what the colour of the moon she saw reflected in his eyes was, white or blue?

Slowly, he felt sensation return to his feet and he confidently took one step forward. The sudden movement from him surprised Mimi and he saw that her confident smile wavered when he leaned down towards her, his forehead just centimetres away from touching hers, his cold breath brushing past her chin and her neck.

“You don’t have to worry about something like that, Mimi chan. I can assure you, that the race you’re talking about won’t last very long.”

It was satisfying to watch her face crumple in confusion for a change but he could not take too much time admiring the view, since he still had one more card up his sleeve he needed to play. Grasping at this chance when Mimi was still trying to make sense of what was happening, Yamato leaned forward and quickly planted a kiss against her lips. It was just a peck, but he felt Mimi’s body go rigid under his touch, not a reaction he enjoyed but the one he expected. When he pulled back, the taste of her strawberry chapstick rested faintly on his lips and he had to fight the urge to lick it off.

Mimi looked completely stunned, her eyes were dazed as if she hadn’t processed what had just happened, but Yamato couldn’t feel any guilt just yet. She’d played with his feelings and he’d returned the favour, he hoped that when she did come to her senses, there would be no hard feelings between them. But when a few minutes passed and Mimi still looked like she was stuck in dreamland, he sighed, realising that he might have made things more difficult for himself.

Shaking his head in defeat, Yamato wrapped his hand around Mimi’s arm and tugged with a gentle force to drag her along with him as he began to walk towards her house. Once they crossed the bridge, it didn’t take Mimi too long to recover and she immediately lashed out at him, paying no heed to the people passing by around them.

“How could you-”

“I think the lesson here is-” Yamato interrupted her before she could make a scene, “that you shouldn’t start a challenge if you’re not prepared to handle its end.”

She opened her mouth to argue but surprisingly was at a loss for words, and instead focused on getting out from under his grasp, picking up her pace so she could always stay a step ahead of him.

“For the record,” she spoke up again after a few minutes, not bothering to glance back at him which made Yamato roll his eyes, “I do not want to be in the running. I was just messing with you.”

Her words would’ve hurt Yamato had she bothered to hide her flaming pink ears or the slightly nervous squeak in her voice as she spoke, now he just found her reaction cute and entertaining, like a TV show he could binge on repeat.

“Sure, Mimi chan. I believe you.”

“I’m really not interested in you like that.”

“Yet, you didn’t push me away.”

“That was-” she stopped suddenly and Yamato almost ran into her, frowning at her as she struggled to get her words out, “I didn’t push you away because...because of the moon.”

“The moon?”

“Yes,” Mimi said as she turned her eyes towards the sky, the dreamy look returning in them and making her eyes look like pools of melted caramel, “The moon, it just looks so pretty when it’s blue.”

#mimato #yamato ishida #mimi tachikawa #digimon #digimon fanfiction #writealot

7 notes · View notes

ollieofthebeholder · 2 years ago

Text

#how does this even work?#is this in a rural area where the busses don't connect and you have to go around?

Rural? Probably not. But honestly, unless you're in one of the major cities in the US - and I'm talking high-population, densely-laid out cities with robust public transit systems, which aren't nearly as common as you might think - this is pretty much par for the course.

I can get to work from my house in about an hour if I take public transit. There are actually three (well, four) possible routes. One only involves a single bus...but I have to walk three-quarters of a mile to the nearest bus stop where it picks up. The one that involves the shortest walk is still about a quarter of a mile, and okay, that's only like two blocks, not that big a deal, but the bus that picks up just misses the connection with the next leg of the journey, unless it's running a bit ahead of schedule - and that connection is a time point, so the drivers aren't allowed to be too terribly ahead of schedule - and the only saving grace of that connection is that it's with the light rail, which keeps a much stricter schedule than the busses, so it's only a 15-minute wait at that time of day for a 12-minute train ride...oh, but I still have to cross one of the major roads in the city and pray no driver blows through the intersection even though I have a crosswalk light. The third route is a half-mile walk followed by a 40-minute bus ride followed by a walk to the nearest light rail station - which is only like a four-minute walk, maybe two blocks, but requires crossing two streets because the platform is in the middle of the road and also the only place to cross to it is at the far end of the platform from the bus stop - followed by another 15-minute wait for an 18-minute train ride. (The fourth route is getting off that bus from the third route about halfway along the route and crossing three major roads to find a bus stop that services a second bus route, taking it to where it connects with the light rail, and then riding that for two stops to work.)

Oh, and while the light rail runs every 15 minutes during peak hours and every 30 minutes during non-peak hours, and that bus that I have to walk three-quarters of a mile to catch runs every half hour, the others only run once an hour, even on weekdays. And that one that runs every 30 minutes? The way it runs, it gets to the stop nearest where I work exactly on the :30 and the :00, so if I decide the walk is worth taking the most direct route - which is still 42 minutes under the best of circumstances - I have to take the bus that's scheduled to get me there at 7:30 in order to guarantee I'll be at work on time, which means I have to leave the house at around 6:30am, walk 3/4 of a mile, get on the bus, and - if all goes well - subsequently sit around in the break room at work for 20 minutes or so before I go to my desk and set up. The other routes get me to the office at 7:55am, and I can only guarantee that because they involve the light rail. For the shortest walk, I have to leave the house by 6:45; for the one that involves the half-mile walk, I still have to leave by 6:30am. And I'm extremely lucky in that there's a bus stop and a light rail stop literally right in front of the office where I work, so I can get off, cross the parking lot, and be to the building.

Now, I live with my mom, who works for the same company, so we carpool unless she has an early-morning appointment and can't drop me off on her way. If we hit the "sweet spot" with regards to traffic? Sixteen minutes, door to door.

And that's me being lucky. When my brother was going to the local community college and taking the bus, if he had class at one particular campus? A twenty-minute drive translated to an almost five-hour bus ride with three transfers.

So yeah, this is all too common if you're not lucky enough to live in a MAJOR city.

American moment

#public transit #us public transit

40K notes · View notes

trainingtofreedom · 9 months ago

Text

January 8, Washington DC

Check out was 11am, and I stayed in that hotel until the very last minute. My lunch appointment was 12, so I had plenty of time.

On my overnight walk, I'd mapped out the nearest station, Dupont Circle. I even took pictures, because the tunnel was stunning. I rode the long escalator down and up, marveling at the terraces and ceiling.

I also realized, taking my two BIG bags, my two small bags, and my backpack down the escalator seemed almost impossible. It was at least three blocks from my hotel, too, across some roads, in the middle of the day. I didn't have any faith in myself.

Thank goodness I has saved that $12 for another Uber ride back to Union Staion.

Amtrak let me check my bags nice and early, but I was definitely wandering, confused, for a little while first. I remember a Red Cap attendant shouting after me, "Do you need help, sir?" but I was already way past him. It would have helped, though: Amtrak is quite a long walk into the building.

Still...dropping off two bags was a help. I still had two bags to roll around, and I basically walked backwards out of the station and out front. There is a Metro entrance inside Union Station, but it isn't obvious, so I walked out and over to the cool Fish-Looking glass over here:

It was only maybe one stop on the Metro, so I backed myself down, got my metro ticket, rode my one stop, and back up again. NoMa/Gallaudet. I was much faster than even I expected, getting there well before noon. My friend Savanna joined me; she was on Lunch Break. She showed me where she worked, and I caught her up on the chaos that was my life.

After Lunch, I headed back, and I still had two-ish hours. I stepped back out to the above fish-glass and pulled my pipe out of my bag. I took one or two puffs, and I heard a homeless guy nearby go, "I bet that's his pipe I smell!"

I really felt for him. I did. I wasn't much less homeless, I just had a train ticket. He shared a hit of my pipe, and disappeared back to his pillar. After I finished it, I disappeared back inside. I knew I needed a smoke, but it was cold and I felt like a criminal.

That's ridiculous, by the way, Washington DC was the only place I smelled cannabis on the street. People smoked.

Back inside, still walking backwards with my two rolly bags and backpack, I was informed that my train was running behind. WELL behind. There was nothing else to do, and no place to put us, so we were directed to the large historic marble hall with wooden benches. I could not get enough of the architecture, but...it was the only thing happening in there. No TV. We just had to sit and wait.

I rolled around and explored the station. Inside, separate from Amtrak, it feels like a mall. There are about a dozen boutique shops between two stories, with a huge staircase and open atrium. I walked to one end, and to the other, because there wasn't much else to do. The shops were prohibitively expensive, too, so I wasn't going to go in with my pile 'o stuff.

Downstairs in the basement area, there was a mall-type food court. I got some Taco Bell; after all, I was stuck waiting for a VERY LATE train. I left my bags and walked up and down the food court a bit. This area was definitely older than the refinished atrium above, but it saw a lot more people and activity. The "Raising Cane's" hadn't opened up top, either, so most of the food options were here.

Before boarding, I made sure to grab a Jamba Juice, too. That was across from the Amtrak stations, though, an easy five minutes before boarding.

I can't express how long this wait felt. I was done with lunch before 1pm, and I didn't board until 5. Things were running quite late. I was flustered. Fed, but flustered. Plus, I had $100 less than I expected, thanks to that deposit. The boarding area was crowded with people, so there wasn't anything to do but walk around or wait on the wooden benches with the sign that kept telling us it was "delayed."

Even an Amtrak attendant asked me about a text message I got that said "boarding," and I clarified, no way, the sign says delayed and the tracker shows it's not here. Amtrak attendant said, "Yeah, people keep asking me about the text message. If that train is here, I'll know; I'm working on it today!"

What train was it? The Capitol Limited runs from Washington DC to Chicago, IL. I was proud to be running it end-to-end, I could say I had the full experience. Except...that was 16 hours. I planned a pit stop in the middle. I'd still get the full experience, but with a day layover in Pittsburgh.

Finally, time to board, and they just open the double doors and let us all walk through. Remember, Amtrak isn't going to check my ticket until after I get on the train. It was a full 50-100yds between our double doors and our train, and there was very little signage. "Capitol Limited" with an up-arrow about halfway. I climbed aboard the first train I saw...

It was pretty nice, but it didn't look like Amtrak. I wasn't sure, but what else could I do? I put my bag on the luggage rack and sat. The train conductor comes through, though, and says, "You're on the wrong train."

I was pretty sure he was right, so I got back up and said, "Yeah?" He said, "Unless you're leaving tomorrow, you are." I said, "I'm on the wrong train!" and climbed off. I'm not kidding, there was nothing telling me which train was the correct one. I kept walking away from those double doors, now fully out of sight, until I saw something that looked like an Amtrak.

Thankfully, this part was familiar. I was going to Pittsburgh, get on and to the right, sit in one of the double-seats that doesn't have anyone yet, and settle in. I'm still shaken from being on the wrong train and not knowing where to go, but I was in the right place.

As usual, the train sets off, very slowly, and stops due to delays at the station exit. A whole lot of trains come and go from this station. You can see all the terminals on Google Maps, too. I watched the different rails fall away until...yeah, we were the only one heading out.

This time, I was going to catch the fresh-air break. The problem is, the fresh air break was in the middle of the night in West Virginia. I told the conductor checking tickets that I wanted to get a smoke in, and he said OK. They made the call! But...I was mostly asleep.

I pulled myself up for this one, managing to miss half the smoke break, but I won't forget it: Underneath a yellow street light, a single sign telling me where we were in West Virginia. I hit my vape, and immediately was asked about it by another passenger.

"I'd never seen one of those before, you smoke that?" I explained that yeah, it's just a little cartridge, it activates as you inhale,, the cartridges are swappable. "That's amazing!" I had to use the vape ANYWAY, because I didn't have time or interest in drawing attention from smoking flower. I was off the train for thirty seconds, maybe: I got off, the conductor said "I was surprised I didn't see you, you were the first to ask!" then, "done already?" I didn't need five minutes to hit a vape pen twice.

Another four hours, and it was Pittsburgh in the middle of the night. That's where we pick up next: 24 hours in Pitt.

#amtrak #homelessness

0 notes

cdiesta · 2 years ago

Text

The Convenience Store

11:21pm

I left that party earlier than I expected, but I also did not expect it to be that…un-fun.

The people were utterly boring and Ann—who invited me there, talked to me for a good five minutes before ditching me in the wild.

One problem: I am all out of money for a taxi and the best I can do is a bus home. I have been walking for a good hour but I have not seen a single chariot of public transportation just yet. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any vehicles.

I don’t remember the road being this unoccupied when I arrived earlier by Grab. I know, if I had money to Grab from home, why not to home, right? Well…I wanted to look good when I arrived? Come on, don’t judge a brother.

Plus, I was pretty sure I was going to hitch a ride from whoever was going my general direction, but clearly leaving the party early did not include these perks.

Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? It’s just that this is all so unfamiliar and I am usually pretty good at remembering landmarks. I can’t really check my phone for GPS since I’m all out of mobile data, so I’m stuck with my instincts.

Wait.

Over there.

A light.

This has been the only sign of civilization since I left Ann’s house, and I am ecstatic to at least ask another living soul for directions—or at least where I am. Jesus if they could ask me how my day was I’ll definitely oblige—the hour of walking is exhausting.

As I come closer, I see that the light is coming from a small establishment. A convenience store.

YES!

I push open the glass door and the chimes signify that a customer has arrived.

A cheerful-looking lady await me in the cashier.

Her mouth opened a little and she looked surprised to see me. Maybe she was expecting to slack off the whole evening.

“Welcome to 8-12! Open 8 days a week, 12 months long!” she chimed in a loud and cheerful—but monotonous—tone. I still heard her hesitation though, so I guess she really wasn’t expecting someone to come in at this hour.

Also…what a weird catchphrase. I don’t give it another thought as companies are known to make some kind of catchy slogan that doesn’t really make sense.

I make my way to the counter.

“Hello miss. Do you happen to know which way the nearest bus station is?” I ask.

She looks at me like I asked her why she’s not giving me the money in the counter. She does not answer though.

“The bus station. Or bus stop. Do you know where it is?”

“Delivery is early.” She murmured.

“Sorry?” What did she mean by that? Are the buses here the type that carry cargo like fruits and vegetables on it as well? I mean I’m fine with that but does she mean that I missed it?

“Uh nothing.”

There goes my hopes that someone might point me to the right direction.

I sigh and suddenly, I realize that I haven’t eaten since I left home. I mean I drank a little beer with some chips in the party, but that doesn’t really count.

Alright, if I’m going to continue my journey home, I better get myself something to eat first. I check my phone and see that the time is 11:41. That’s how long I took?

I browse along the shelves and found me a chicken sandwich and soda. This should be enough to get to the bus stop—wherever the fuck it ends up being.

As I walked to the counter, I see a convex security mirror and can’t help myself. I pull out my phone and take a mirror selfie on it. This will be a good story to tell to my friends, if anything.

The cashier is still looking at me weird as I put down my items on counter top. She toots them both and says, “120 pesos, sir.”

Ain’t that a bit expensive? I don’t say that though, as I am too hungry to discuss anything.

My train of thought is interrupted when I notice that she is pointing to the table in the corner. “Please, have a seat.”

You know what, maybe she’s just new here. That will explain her being jumpy and all. I walk toward the table she was pointing to and noticed something odd.

There’s a sign posted on the wall by table. Its one of those gender neutral signs you usually find outside restrooms that are both for male and female. What an extremely odd spot for this sign to be in.

I ignore it and proceed to munch on my sandwich, thinking of my plan of action. I can’t really do anything besides walk toward the same way.

Oh, eureka!

I might not have enough money for a Grab, but I can definitely purchase some mobile data for Maps.

Just before I can stand up and make my way to the counter though, a group of three men enter the store. They look about my age and I know what you’re thinking, but they don’t look suspicious to me at all.

I’ll wait for them to buy whatever they want to buy, then I’ll get my mobile data. I don’t want to be a hassle if they’re just here for a quick beer run.

I watch them converse with the cashier. Shouldn’t they just go straight to the fridges or shelves? Maybe they’re asking for a specific brand. I see the guy talking to the cashier catch a quick glance at me, and it sent shivers down my spine.

What the fuck is the deal with that?

To distract myself, I go on my phone and pretend I’m busy. As you already know, I do not have mobile data, so I don’t really have much to do. I open my Gallery to look at the memes I saved. That should keep me entertained.

I don’t do that though. Upon opening my Gallery, the latest picture I took caught my eye. I open the file and my brows furrow.

I look fine, but the cashier whose reflection should be in the mirror isn’t there. More accurately, something else is in their place. I can’t make it out for some reason, but my phone’s decent camera caught everything in crisp resolution. The cashier though—or whatever is in her place—is just a blurry shadow looking thing with a mouth.

My instincts tell me run.

However, my ears tell me that there are footsteps behind me. Pretty soon, my eyes tell me that the boy having a talk with the “cashier” is now sitting in front of me. Everything feels like its closing onto me. My ears tell me nothing now. All I hear is the sound of my own heartbeat getting louder and louder. I see him mouth the word “hello,” but I have no interest in lip-reading right now.

I slide my vision onto the security mirror once more.

I see myself

And three other very different things.

#short fiction #writing #horror #philippines #fictionph

0 notes

trainsinanime · 2 years ago

Note

of course you play cities skyline aka my fave transportation simulator tell me how do you survive the mess that is transportation when you get a large population cause back when I used to play a big society meant traffic and huge problems with transit

I'm not sure I have a good answer here, to be honest. After a certain point the game is just all about managing the traffic, and everything else is what you do in between dealing with traffic jams.

The first simple trick is that public transportation can almost eliminate personal vehicles; the AI is all sorts of weird but it is very kind in that regard. I tend to go for streetcars, metros, and the odd bus as local connectors. The routings are based… well, strictly on vibes, to be honest; I tend to look at new sections and then prolong whatever routes are nearest.

Bike lanes are also very useful; you don't even have to have a lot of them to see benefits. Along the same lines, pedestrian overpasses and underpasses are very useful. A cable car can be great over a body of water or going up a steep hill, but it's noisy.

Ferries are only useful as decoration if you have a waterfront. Passenger trains largely suck, they offer little to no benefit over metros, there is no underground station for them, and sooner or later they will get stuck in freight train traffic. I keep building them anyway because I like trains, but they are strictly in the "creates problems" area rather than "solves problems". I've never built a blimp or trolley bus line, and monorails really only work in commercial districts because of the noise (plus routing them over highway interchanges is a massive pain), so I tend to avoid them. You can do without taxis and mail, but sometimes I get bored so I add them in anyway.

Of course the main problem here is road traffic, mostly within industrial and commercial areas and between them, and I really don't have a great solution for that.

Personally, I use the Traffic Manager mod, as well as Roundabout builder, to design better intersections and interchanges. Roundabout builder builds roundabouts automatically; Traffic Manager allows you to give priorities to roads, change where cars can change lanes, designate lanes for different directions and so on. It can only give incremental improvements, but it can give a lot of them, and if you like spending a lot of time fiddling with small details (i.e. if you're a Cities Skylines player), this might be the perfect toy. I got into it via the "Fix my city" series by Youtuber/Streamer "Biffa" if you want to see what it can do and why. Also, I like to use the "Move it" mod; very helpful when designing complicated intersections.

Other than that, there's a few general useful principles. The road hierarchy is a good one: Highways lead to six lane roads lead to four lane roads lead to two lane roads. Upgrading to the next higher tier is expensive and may require reorganising large sections of a city, but is often worth it. It breaks my heart to say it, but Cities Skylines operates on the assumption that Robert Moses was right: Tearing down neighbourhoods and building a highway through it is often the best solution in this game.

It's probably too simple, but also probably not entirely wrong, to say that distance to nearest highway is often a good predictor for how good traffic will be. On the other hand, if the problem is the highway on-ramp, that means the problem is that some other place some distance away doesn't have a highway connection yet.

A corollary to the road hierarchy is that the higher tier a road is, the longer the distance should be between intersections. Also, intersections on higher tier roads (at least six lanes and higher) should most often be roundabouts or highway-style intersections. The default roundabouts and intersections that come with the game are ridiculously large and impractical. You can download pre-made ones from the Steam Workshop, but I tend to build my own (and use the Roundabout builder mod for roundabouts).

Cargo Train Terminals are a blessing and a curse. They need to be built on a one-way road next to it that ideally connects directly to a highway at either end (and in both directions). You can have a lot of them and you can place them in the middle of commercial sections. If you can design railway lines so that trains don't have to turn around to get to another CTT or to a city border, that's especially awesome. Railway junctions should always be flying junctions. The same rules apply for the harbour and freight airport (including the ones with freight train stations built in). You'll still have traffic jams going in and out on both road and rail, though.

The industries DLC is great for having industry that is fairly traffic friendly, but you still need normal industry, and you have to be careful with storage buildings. I've taken to not placing either on the main roads at all, so the trucks going there don't block all traffic. The worst situations are ore and plastic industries where the resources are gone, and you have a train terminal. Every now and then a train will come, unload 300 trucks full of ore or oil, and they will all go directly to the next storage building that isn't full, and fill it, one by one, very slowly. As far as I can tell there's no solution to that.

For commercial areas, there's a secret trick: The new pedestrian zones DLC. You place a building in the zone, all the trucks drive to it, and then the freight just goes whoosh, like magic. The UI keeps saying something about "freight trucks" and "garbage trucks", but those don't actually appear in game. The makers of Cities Skylines looked at the large real-world problem of urban freight delivery especially in pedestrian areas, and the solution they came up with was, "eh, whatever, it's just magic. It'll arrive, somehow". This is utterly hilarious to me.

Note that these pedestrian area service station points or whatever they're called can have problems similar to cargo train terminals: Lots of trucks going into it, slowly, one by one. Building more doesn't really help a lot since the traffic AI is so stupid, so they will just go for the nearest one. I've had some success with building a little road that is only connected to a highway and placing the service point there. I haven't yet experimented with a solution where such a service point is directly on the same road as a cargo train terminal. This'll either be great or terrible. Still, though, this DLC will make huge parts of your city completely traffic-free if you go wild on the pedestrian areas (and there doesn't seem to be any penalty to making them as large as you want them to be).

Sorry this got so long, I've spent way too much time thinking about this (long before you sent this ask). To sum up:

Public transit for people

Pedestrian areas for commerce and people

Buildings that source or sink a lot of traffic should have a dedicated highway connection

Road hierarchy

Roundabouts

This game was designed by Americans so don't feel bad if the solution is more highways.

Any questions? I don't actually know what I'm doing, but I can (and will, unprompted if needed) talk about this way more.

#cities skylines

1 note · View note

apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago

Note

YES YES YES REBEL PUNZ PLEASEEEE I NEED IT FOR SCIENCE PLEASEEEE

-🐉anon

Okay so *sigh* I know I keep saying this about all our boys but I love heem

𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋. ☥ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥!𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐳

pairing: rebel!Punz x fm!reader

word count: ~ 3500

warnings: smut (18+), pure filth basically, language, blood, fighting, illegal activities, degradation, praise, domination, spanking, etc.

playlists: Rebel!Punz, EDGERS

The basement was only accessible through one door which was stationed at the back of Techno’s motorcycle shop. The door was bolted from the inside, only to be unlocked after the murmuring of a password known by word of mouth.

Behind the door was a flight of stairs going downward. The walls are reminiscent of walking through a damp tunnel, the air hanging thick, smelling of rotting soil and burning leaves. A man stationed on one of the landings would open the door at the end of the staircase and then move back upstairs as one would continue through the dark hallway, faintly hearing the sounds of men shouting. Finally, the last entryway and the gateway into a different universe: two double doors made of decaying wood.

The hinges always creaked when pried opened, giving the illusion that the basement was nothing more than storage, yet through those doors laid a bustling room of cockroaches and their bookies. Men in all shapes and sizes, in suits and sweatpants, with elaborate hairstyles and hats clustered around a giant roped-off area in the center of the basement.

Ritual followers of the activities referred to it as the Ring.

The dingy atmosphere of expensive cologne and cigar smoke was a trip back in the twenties when similar tactics were just for the high of living. Underground matches are like alcohol during the prohibition and the Ring was the modern-day speakeasy.

And that’s where you were, swimming in the stale fog of cigar smoke and sweaty bodies as you scored percentages into your small notebook, taking the bribes as cash was handed to you. The men with the expensive appearances always flaunted their exaggerated statistics, testing your knowledge about the Ring as if they weren’t facilitating some kind of kill match. They treated you as if you were the equivalent of a cigarette girl when in reality, you held their fortunes in your hand and controlled the fate of the fight.

You were Techno’s eyes, ears, and author. He would observe from afar, crossing his arms over his chest as you eyed Punz, telling him which way to fix the fight to make Techno the most money. Punz was completely attuned to you, his light eyes trained to search for your mild quirks and subtle hints as you pretended to add up the odds. Regretfully, it was a losing night against an outside competitor.

Punz drew in a sharp breath as you chewed the inside of your cheek, barely instructing him. You flashed him four of your fingers, knowing full-well that Techno was guaranteed at least a $10,000 payout if Punz let the competitor wail on him for that long. You always preferred the nights when you could nod for him to flatten the challenger in under two rounds, but nights like tonight left your stomach in knots.

You rolled the sleeves of your white button-up shirt, your suit jacket hanging on a fold-out chair nearest to Techno as you continued to work the floor. As you walked the perimeter, your gaze glued to Punz, who was wrapping white tape around his knuckles and watching you. You knew that his heavy-handed approach in the first few rounds would leave the protection in nothing but white tatters, peeling away from his butchered skin.

His lip was still busted from the match a few days prior, cheekbone tinted with a purple hue and eyes set tired to avoid giving away the adrenaline you knew was pulsing through his body. His hand flexed against the tape, giving him more motion. Your sights settled on the healing cut that divided his eyebrow, the memory of seeing Dream’s ring cut into Punz’s face making your blood boil.

You liked to stand on the opposite end of the make-shift ring from Punz. There were days when you wished you weren’t some kind of conductor for the underground matches, mainly so you could cheer on your lover like the rest of the spectators.

But alas, you were the puppeteer and Punz was your obedient marionette.

The fight began with the ringing of an ancient-looking shift bell, Punz stepping back on the balls of his feet as his opponent remained defensive. Punz rolled his eyes, sights flashing to you before moving to land the first blow; a heavy shot to the man’s side. You crossed your arms, nodding as if to tell him he only needed to lose by a hair.

At your direction the fight became bloodier, knuckles cracking against bone and rib cages, drawing the crimson streams of life from their bodies. In an ideal world where Punz was fighting for his own mercy and not the money bags of his boss, Punz would have wasted the opposing man, smiling as he did so.

Punz always seemed to gain stamina the more he was battered, thriving off of the blood pooling in his teeth or streaming down the side of his head. In bare-knuckle matches, he was almost unrecognizable in his blood lust.

The bell chimed again, the rounds moving quicker as Punz pretended to be worn out from the weaker jabs of his competitor. You chuckled to yourself, a smirk settling on your lips as he rolled his shoulders. His expression tilted towards you, seemingly noticing your amusement as he fought not to grin himself.

Punz launched his fist into his opponent’s face, blood gushing instantly from the man’s nose as Punz hammered another blow into his torso. The man retaliated by driving his elbow into Punz’s stomach before throwing his knuckles into Punz’s jaw. Punz’s t-shirt clung to his sweat-drenched body, the thought of peeling him out of those clothes later in the night made your skin prickle with goosebumps. His messy hair and concentrated eyes were allusions of unadulterated sin as he brushed the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping away the thread of blood trickling down his chin from his re-busted lip.

Punz knew to wear down, letting the man knock him against the ropes, Punz’s light eyes looking up at you with nearly a breath between the two of you. “Good boy,” you stated, only loud enough for him to hear. His eyebrow quirked at your words to combat the cocky grin wanting to break through his tough façade with your praise. He stood up straighter and submitted to losing as his competitor landed another punch.

After the fight, you indulged in the sound of your heels clicking against the staircase as you moved back up to the shop, the area quiet and desolate after the cockroaches had scampered away back into their crevices. You turned, starting down the long hallway towards the locker room, grabbing the First Aid kit off the wall on your way. The envelope of money felt heavy in your hand, its manilla coloring almost too obvious against your suited attire.

You pushed the door open with your foot, peering down one of the rows of lockers before spotting Punz, yawning slightly as he pulled off his shirt, revealing various old-style tattoos that matched the ones painted across his knuckles. Whenever you saw him in this state, you silently thanked George for his hours of work and steady hand.

Punz’s eyes perked up as you entered the room; the familiar sight of you ready to patch up his wounds brought a content smile to his bruised features. “How’d I do, dove?” He coaxed looking up at you as he sat on the dividing bench. His voice was raspy and deep from exhaustion.

You gave him a small smile, tossing your jacket on the other side of him and taking his face in your hand, pressing your lips against his briefly. Your nose brushed his as you placed a kiss on his cheek. “So good,” you hummed. He moved to straddle the bench as you sat in front of him, digging into the aid kit.

Before you could even start in on his wounds, his hands were snaking up your legs to grip your thighs, pulling you closer to him on the bench. You propped your knee against his, taking one of his hands and dabbing away the dried blood on his knuckles as he dug his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin as he took in your scent, his lips pressing against your neck before he unclasped the top few buttons of your shirt. His other hand moved to press against your freshly exposed skin, teeth nibbling at your ear lobe.

You let out a quiet giggle at his antics, moving your head to brush against his cheek and shrug him off. “Cut it out. You’ll distract me,” you muttered, stifling the obvious grin in your tone.

He let out a low chuckle, moving your hair out of the way before settling in the crook of your neck again, hand moving to wrap around your waist and draw you closer. “There’s no way. You’re too stubborn,” he jested, his stubble tickling your chest as he nibbled at the sensitive skin on your throat.

Once you finished with his hands, you moved onto his face, tending to the small cuts and scrapes. Punz continued his own form of clean-up as he pressed his lips against the inside of your wrist. You knew he was coming off of his fight high and you were waiting on him to rag you about wincing during some of the harder hits. He got off on the idea that your calm and indifferent surface cracked when it came to him.

His hands hooked around the back of your knees, tugging you practically into his lap as you rolled your eyes. His fingers untucked your shirt, slipping between the material and your skin as his lips traveled the length of your jaw. His blunt nails raked down your back, his neediness unmasked by the slight roll of his hips against yours.

You dropped what you were working on, running your fingers into his blond hair as he moaned against your skin. You moved your legs to wrap around his waist, letting him grip onto your hips and press you against his body. He sealed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you with a groan. You tugged on his hair, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His fingers unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, slipping it off your shoulders as your teeth moved to dig into his shoulder. His hands moved to tug your pants down your thighs. You pushed him back against the bench, balancing yourself on his lap as you settled his hands on your thighs, leaning down to kiss him again.

He gripped onto your hips, driving you to grind against him, a moan of his hand slipping through your lips in praise. Your fingers raked down his chest as you ground your hips against him, making him bite his lips to keep himself quiet.

He pushed himself into you, making you groan as you adjusted to his size, hungry for more friction. As you rolled your hips, his hands moved to your chest. You pulled his arm towards you, pressing your lips to the tattoo across his wrist in your handwriting. "You did so well tonight, baby," you cooed, earning a moan from him at your praise. "I'm so proud of you."

You leaned down, swallowing his lustful noises and you pressing your lips against his as you thrust against him. The tension from the night and the sight of him submitting to you completely.

His head tipped back against the wood, his hips swirling against yours as his mouth opened with a slight whimper. You clenched around him, feeling him throb inside of you. You bit back a smile, watching how easy it was to get him off as his cheeks flushed, a lazy grin on his face as you moved on top of him. "Fuck look how much you want me," you mocked, his hands moving to dig into your hips.

His brows furrowed as he mumbled your name, making you pick up your pace. "Shit, don't stop," he nearly begged.

You curled your hips, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. "You deserve it, my good boy," you husked, tongue flattening against his collarbone as he moaned at the feeling.

He pushed himself to sit up, giving you a new angle as you drove him deeper into you, thrusting against his body and tugging at his hair. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, quietly pleading out your name as if he were confessing his sins to you.

His coarse hands dug into your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as your head fell back, moaning about how good he was making you feel.

It didn't take long for him to finish, his hot seed spreading between your legs as he groaned darkly in your ear. You combed your fingers through his hair, letting him roll his hips against yours and ride out his high.

Dream kicked his feet up on Techno’s desk, popping a few jelly beans in his mouth from his position on the other side of Sapnap, the bone tattoos on his fingers making you slightly grateful for Punz's ink choices. Sapnap leaned his head back against the edge of his chair, closing his eyes tiredly as you crossed your legs, flipping through one of the magazines that Techno had stacked in the corner of his office. Punz flexed his hands, still sore from the previous night’s fight, as he watched your skirt ride up your thighs a few centimeters.

The office was silent between the four of you, waiting for the man in charge after he’d called all of you in for an “emergency meeting.” Punz looked over your shoulder at what you were reading and you angled yourself to share the magazine with him, trying to ignore the tension he was building between the two of you as his thigh brushed yours.

The bag of jelly beans in Dream’s pocket made shuffling noises as he moved closer to whisper something to Sapnap, making him chuckle softly. The door swung open, sending the four of you on your feet as Techno’s secretary rattled off what was on his docket for the day. He ran his fingers through his short pink hair, eyes zoning out slightly as he took a seat behind his desk before thanking the woman and sending her on her way. He motioned for all of you to sit.

“My anxiety is through the roof, I just need to know if I’m in trouble first, Tech,” Dream started in, making Punz’s eyes roll and you to let out a small laugh.

Techno began to feather through some of the papers on his desk, pulling on his glasses. His t-shirt flexed against his muscular arms. You were surprised to see him in casual clothes in the middle of the week, but you figured he had plans with Sapnap after the meeting. “No, you’re fine, Dream.”

Dream chewed on one of the jelly beans. “Are you sure, because I can’t figure out why I’d be in here. Like, I’m just,” he paused, leaning forward to look at you before snapping his fingers a few times searching for a word. “What do you call it?”

You scoffed. “A floater. Snap at me again and I’ll break your dick off,” you bit, making Punz subtly cover his mouth to conceal his grin.

Dream winked at you. “Sounds like one hell of a handjob,” he quipped back without missing a beat.

“Dream, shut the fuck up,” Sapnap sighed, looking at Techno as if to urge him to continue. Dream snickered at Sapnap.

Techno cleared his throat. “Okay, now that that’s out of our system,” he pulled a page from the stack. “Dream, I’m giving you more matches to take some of the weight off of Punz.”

You tilted your head. “What?” Techno’s gaze shifted to you as if commanding you to elaborate. “Punz makes you the most money out of all of them. You’re losing profit with Dream.” You weren’t going to sit idly by and let your lover get knocked down a peg. Especially, not for Dream to step up in his place.

Techno nodded. “It looks bad on my part if one of my fighters dies in the middle of a match though, doesn’t it?”

“It’s illegal underground fighting. He knows the risks-” Punz reached over to cover your mouth.

He sighed. “That sounds fine. No less than three a week, though.”

Dream let out a low whistle. “Damn, she let you borrow your balls just for this?”

Punz turned his head to him, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Hmmm. What does that bracelet say, sweet boy?” Sapnap laughed at Punz’s comment, making Dream punch his arm. Techno shook his head at all of you, settling his glasses on top of his head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“You guys are all simps,” Techno murmured to end the discussion. “Sapnap, I have a new model I want you to test out. Punz, I’m leaving the shop to the two of you while I’m gone.” He gestured between you and Punz before tilting his head to Dream. “I mean this with the utmost respect but, go mutilate your body or something at George’s. I don’t trust you and Punz in the same room for more than ten minutes.”

You snorted and Dream shrugged at his words. As you all stood to leave, Sapnap and Techno began to discuss his new car modifications. “Hey, Dream. Can you get my name?” You teased and he pinched your cheek.

“Right above my ass because I know you’ll be staring at it anyway,” he jested. Punz moved to stand behind Techno’s desk, flipping through his account book. His knuckle tattoos flexed as his fingers searched for a specific tab.

You sighed. “Finally, I’ll have something to look at,” you countered, biting back a smirk. Dream mocked a pained expression before heading out the door. You turned back to Punz, walking behind Techno’s desk as well, your hands running along his black jacket. “You’re quiet today,” you muttered, fingers looping through his thin silver chain to draw it from beneath his shirt. You’d bought it for him for your anniversary a few years prior.

He turned towards you, his deadpan look sending shivers down your spine as his hand wrapped around your wrist. “You think I can’t defend myself?” He dared, eyes flickering with lust and heat as he looked at you. His hand moved to hold your chin, your breath hitching as his lips threatened to brush against yours. “I have half a mind to teach you a lesson for that.” His voice was mellow and low as he spoke to you, making your ears burn red.

His thumb moved to brush against your lip, your mouth opening to take his digit between your teeth almost instinctively. There was no way any of the guys would take you seriously if they knew how whipped you actually were for Punz, which was most of the reason why he let you lead when you were around them.

The other half of him liked when you were scary and in charge.

Punz knocked you against the desk, your torso hitting the wood as you bit back a giggle, gripping onto the edge of the wood as he kicked your legs apart. “Speaking for me like you’re my master,” he jabbed, pushing your skirt further up your waist and grinding against you. He tsked as you moaned, pressing your cheek to the grain, shoving Techno’s pen display to the side.

He gripped the collar of your shirt, snapping a few of your buttons. “Christ, Luke,” you moaned, voice uneven and out of breath. “I’m gonna run out of shirts,” you barely whined.

His lips pressed against your shoulder, nose moving to brush against behind your ear. “Are you complaining, pet?” He hissed, hand settling on the edge beside your own, grinding his hips against yours. You shook your head violently, making him lean off you. The sound of his belt dropping to the floor behind you made your head spin, your knees weak.

His hand brushed over your waistband, dipping below your skirt and smacking the curve of your ass. You whimpered at the impact, heart racing as your body throbbed for his attention. "Filthy slut. You like when I punish you, don't you?" Punz chided, pressing his knee between your legs and knotting his fingers into your hair. You rolled back against his thigh almost as if by instinct, hungry for his antics.

His palm smacked you again, gripping onto the sensitive, burning skin with his strong hand as if it were a trophy for him. Truth be told, you were his trophy, especially when you gave in like you were.

As you heard his zipper, your face flushed, gripping onto the wood as you readied yourself, submitting to Punz's mercy with a grin on your face.

Punz Tag List: (to join, please follow this link :))

@more-like-reyna @froggyy06 @drunkpumpkincake @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @alm334 @acidluvs @bbigbbrainn @generallysleepdeprived @froggerrrr @ribbitsworld @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @bobbyftmydad @twist3dtinkerbell @book-of-anarchy

#rebel!punz #punz x reader #punz fanfiction #punz oneshot #punz imagine #punz smut #punz fluff #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x you #mcyt au #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #edgers #edgers: punz

933 notes · View notes

agapaic · 3 years ago

Text

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #my fanfic #sorry for errors - it's late but i couldn't get this out my head

287 notes · View notes

niqhtlord01 · 4 years ago

Text

Humans are weird: Psychological Warfare (A continuation of Super Soldiers)

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord ) (For those interested in learning about the events leading up to this please read the previous short story for this here: https://niqhtlord01.tumblr.com/post/188251556966/humans-are-weird-super-soldiers )

“This is enforcement team three, responding to request for assistance at broadcast building nine.”

The enforcer car sped through the well-lit streets like a blade of grass dancing in the wind; swerving between other vehicles and pedestrians almost as if it was liquid curving around a hard surface. The lights from virtual billboards lining the streets each casting another shade of color as enforcer Gavrin hung up his transponder as he rounded another corner and avoided a headlong collision with pedestrians.

“Will you slow down!?”

Gavrin was too focused on the road to respond to his partner’s pleas as they continued to speed towards broadcast building nine.

Jimble had his three hands pressed against the roof of the enforcer car for stability and shot another scornful glare at Gavrin.

“What the flartack has gotten into you, Gavrin?” Jimble said as they hit a speed bump and lurched through the air for a few moments before crashing down to the hard road again. “You’re going to get us both killed!”

“What was the request for assistance?” Gavrin calmly said as he continued weaving through the traffic. Jimble let go of the roof with one of his hands and scratched his head.

“The report said intruders had forced their way into the building.”

Gavrin nodded. “Something that big is going to be noticed by a lot of people, and I want them to know that I was there first.”

“If you were any more of a glory hound you’d be wearing a collar.” Jimble replied. He looked down at the navigation screen showing the layout of the city. “It should be just around this next corner on the right.”

As the enforcer car swung around the sharp corner Gavrin’s eyes went wide and he slammed on the stabilizer brakes. The car screeched and nearly flipped over as the momentum was suddenly killed before Gavrin grabbed Jimble and pulled him over to his side of the interior. The combined weight brought the car back down to the road before coming to a complete standstill.

Jimble lifted himself up slowly trying to regain his senses while Gavrin popped open the side door and stormed off. “No, no; I’m fine.” Jimble groaned as he blinked his eyes several times to clear them up. As he got a good look at his partner in front of the car he gasped.

Surrounding the entire street level entrance to broadcast building nine were several dozen military transports. Jimble looked to either side of the street and saw soldiers lining either side all with their weapons trained on the broadcast building.

“What the flartack is going on?”

As Jimble got out of the car he could see his partner arguing with two soldiers that had stepped forward and barred him from passing.

“Like flar I will!” Jimble heard his partner shout into the face of the nearest soldier.

“This area is restricted.” The same soldier continued as two additional soldiers broke away from covering the building to stand on either side of Gavrin. “Move along.”

Before Gavrin could let out another outburst Jimble stepped in.

“We are responding to a request from assistance filed from this broadcast building five chrono ticks ago.” Jimble said as he glanced between the visored helmets of the soldiers. Gavrin looked like he was about to shove his way passed the soldiers until Jimble put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He grunted for a moment before Jimble felt his partners muscles relax before Gavrin shook off his hand and went back to the enforcer car.

“And if I’m not mistaken,” Jimble said as he addressed the original soldier his partner had been shouting at “the military does not have jurisdiction outside of military installations and star ports; making this a de-facto enforcer matter.”

“This incident has been reviewed by city officials and was determined to fall under military jurisdiction.” a new voice cut in.

Both enforcers turned to see a sharply dressed military officer approach the group. With a wave of her hand the soldiers dispersed back to their positions leaving them alone.

“Since when?!” Gavrin nearly shouted as he smacked his hands against the hood of enforcer car.

“Since several highly ranked prisoners of war escaped a military base five days ago.” She turned and looked at the broadcast building and for a moment Gavrin could see what almost looked like fear cross her face.

“Why weren’t the enforcers informed of fugitives on the loose?” Gavrin pressed. “We could have found them far faster than you lot.”

“They are not normal fugitives.” was all she said before quickly raising a hand to her ear. She nodded a few times to herself before casting a look around the entire street.

She opened her mouth as if to give an order when an ear shattering static cut through not only her radio but Jimble and Gavrin’s radios as well.

“Good evening, fine citizens of Tivin.”

Jimble looked up to see the virtual ad long that had been for clothing change to static before displaying a new feed. It showed the interior of what appeared to be a broadcast room. There was a broadcast desk, a virtual backdrop of Tivin, and even the stations logo on the front. Yet behind the desk was someone Jimble had never expected to see.

A human…..

The human wore a makeshift cloak across his shoulders along with a bandana over his forehead keeping the strands of black hair out of his eyes.

“Cut the line!” Jimble and Gavrin tore their gaze away from the screen to see the officer shouting into her communicator. Whatever the response was it appeared to displease her as she turned to her waiting forces and shouted “Get in there now!”

The waiting squads of soldiers surged forwards, blowing the doors off the front entrance and rushing inside without a moment’s hesitation.

“My name is Joseph Maker,” the human continued drawing the attention of the trip remaining in the street, “and as you’ve no doubt noticed I’m very much human.”

Joseph waved a hand to something off screen and the camera panned around the room to reveal several other humans standing in the corner of the room. “As are my friends here.” Joseph continued as the camera spun back around to him.

“Your military was kind enough to invite us to your world for a little…chat..and afterwards we felt it only right to see this prime example of society we’ve heard so much about.”

Gavrin felt something strange and turned to see the building behind him. The virtual ad for some food parlor warped and displayed the same transmission of the human at the broadcast station. He watched as one by one the ads lining the streets all began to blink and switch to the same feed.

“They’re using the emergency broadcast system.”

His statement fell on deaf ears as sounds of weapons fire erupted from the broadcast building. Jimble and Gavrin both reached for their side arms and trained them on the entrance expecting something to come rushing out. The windows of the upper floors were flashing with the light of muzzle fire and grenades exploding, several of them shattering from the barrage raining broken glass down on to the below streets.

Gavrin looked up to see a soldier flung through one of the windows as if they were nothing but a rag doll. They screamed the entire way down falling through the air until impacting the ground with a disgusting wet flop of a sound.

“I’ve learned so much about your culture these last few days.” The human calling themselves Joseph continued. “For instance, your media appears to block any mention of the war effort what so ever.”

Joseph stood up and began walking across to the other side of the room and as the camera followed him Jimble and Gavrin let out a horrid gasp. Curled up in the corner was the broadcast stations staff, bound with cabling.

Joseph knelt down to one of them and removed their gag. “Tell me, mr…” he waited several seconds before his hostage caught on that he was waiting for him to respond. “Kavik.” They said as their voice reeked with fear. “Mr Kavik, thank you.” Joseph continued as he placed his arm around Kavik. “What do you know about the war between our two peoples; hmm?”

Kavik looked confused and scared, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. “That..” he began to speak, “that we are winning.”

To Gavrin’s surprise, rather than showing anger the human laughed and patted Kavik on the back.

“What a patriotic answer!” Joseph smiled as he continued patting Kavik on the back. “I’m sure it will be perfect on your tombstone.”

Before Kavik could react Joseph had grabbed his head with both hands and violently twisted. In an instant Kavik’s neck had snapped and his head was now facing the wrong direction on his body.

“Will someone kill this flartack feed!?” Jimble could hear the officer shouting again. “It’s going out planet wide!”

To Gavrin’s horror the humand did not stop at simply snapping the now dead broadcaster’s neck. They watched as the human continued to twist the head in circles until the skin began to rip and tear. As the camera continued to remain focused on the gruesome affair, Joseph slowly and deliberately continued twisting the head in circles until finally pulling it free from the body along with a portion of the spine.

“See what patriotism will get you kiddies?” Joseph still had a smile upon his face even as he casually held the severed head.

Jimble’s eyes were so transfixed by this act of barbarity unfolding before him that he didn’t feel Gavrin shaking him.

“Do you hear me? We need to get in there!”

Jimble looked down from the virtual displays and Gavrin saw nothing but fear in his partner’s eyes.

“Did you not just see the human rip a head off with their bare hands?!?!” Jimble was nearly hysterical now. His mind was not able to process what was happening before him. Before Gavrin could reason with him Joseph spoke again.

“You see, your people have a knack for invading other systems and either enslaving or eradicating species on flights of fancy.” Joseph let the head fall from his hand finally and just before it hit the ground kicked it with his right leg. The head simply turned into a shower of blood, bone, and bile before the camera; coating Joseph in a glazing of gore.

“Reading your records it’s been centuries since the last time one of your own worlds felt an enemy attack, so I imagine it’s given you this sense of security and superiority.”

Joseph looked down at his hands now for the first time and noticed they were covered in blood. He tried shaking them a few times but after that failed he walked back to the huddled hostages and wiped his hands on one of them.

“My friends and I thought that it would be most beneficial to reintroduce you to the horrors of war.”

The smile faded from Joseph’s face as one by one the other humans began to stand behind him.

“From this day forth, this planet will become a battlefield.”

“The safety and security you have lived with your entire life will now become a distant memory.”

“Your leaders will be hunted down and flayed one by one.”

“Your centers of industry and commerce destroyed beyond repair.”

“Your culture and history washed away in a tide of your own blood.”

“I promise you that for the atrocities you have carried out against my people you shall be shown no quarter, no mercy, and no forgiveness as we rage across this pathetic world like a hurricane of death and destruction.”

Jimble and Gavrin watched silently as the remaining hostages were brought before the camera. Each of them screaming into their gag as the humans slaughtered them like cattle, live for the entire world to see.

“War has been nothing but a game to you people, played out far from your homes and loved ones.”

The smile returned to Joseph’s face, but it lacked any semblance of warmth or kindness. It was a twisted smile, a smile of a predator looking down at his prey’s final moments.

“So now I want to ask you all, would you like to play a game?”

Roar of an explosion rocked the broadcast station building cutting the feed instantly. Jimble, Gavrin, and the officer dove for cover as debris began falling all around them. When the dust finally settled Gavrin looked upwards and saw the smoking remains of several destroyed floors.

“It’s about time.” The office said into her communicator as she straightened up. “Which team finally got the shot off?”

She waited for several seconds but no reply. “Repeat, which team took out the building?”

Yet again, silence.

“Will someone respond!?”

As Gavrin and Jimble both rose to their feet a strange thudding sound could be heard in the distance.

“What’s that sound?” Jimble queried. Gavrin listened closer to the thudding. “It almost sounds like-“

Another set of explosions rocked the street, this time from below the surface. In a flash of light Gavrin saw the officer thrown violently up into the air as the ground beneath her feet exploded upwards. He didn’t see where she landed as the explosions continued to ring out all around him.

When the explosions finally stopped Gavrin opened his eyes to a city of darkness. Every light save for the fires now burning brightly across the city streets were off. People in surrounding streets now ran to and fro in panic as if they had been consumed by madness.

“We need to contact headquarters.” He turned to see if Jimble was already up only to find his body limply hanging out from under a crushed piece of masonry.

“Well hello there, friend.”

Gavrin turned to see the speaker and froze.

Joseph was standing before him, casually standing in front of him with half his face burnt off. He could see strips of flesh burnt and charred hanging from him like bits of loose string, but even more surprising was the slowly growing blob of new skin that was already growing over the wounds.

Remembering his side arm Gavrin went for it but was too slow. In a flash Joseph had grabbed his hand by the wrist and clenched it so tight he severed it entirely.

Gavrin looked down at where his hand had once been and the bloody stump that now remained; a twisted mesh of blood and bile leaking from his wound like a waterfall. He looked up at his attacker to see the dozen or so humans that had been with him on the screen spreading out from the building. Some were equally singed while others appeared fine as day.

Several civilians saw them as well and let out a scream in horror. The humans began running and were on the in moments ripping them limb from limb.

It was chaos, pure chaos.

The last thing Gavrin remembered before passing out from blood loss was the crooked smile of Joseph as he looked down on him.

The crooked smile of a predator about to feed on a world driven to madness.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #super soldiers #psychological warfare

274 notes · View notes

radiosandrecordings · 4 years ago

Note

i’m almost scared to ask this due to the angst potential but 22 with jm, please?

You blessed me with a Good Martin earlier, I’ll spare you from the angst storm (I have nooo ulterior motives here, me, who doesn’t like writing angst? None whatsoever)

Set in some nebulous no-powers au where they get to go home from a Normal Date. Thank you @horngryeyes for letting me just message him asking for Polish swears

22) Things you said after it was over

“I had a really nice time tonight.”

Martin smiled as Jon leaned closer into his side, joined hands between them stilling from their gentle swing, purely because they no longer had space to with Jon cosied up against him. “I’m glad, I had a wonderful time as well.”

The restaurant they had been to had been close to Martin’s apartment, and so they were currently on their way to the nearest tube station for Martin to see him off safely. They proceeded to walk in a comfortable silence for several minutes, the comforting presence of the other at their side driving off the chill of the early Spring evening.

It was only when they reached the entrance to the tube station and Martin’s eyes drifted to the screen displaying a digital clock did they realise something was wrong.

“Wait, what?” Jon vocalised his concern before Martin, a furrow forming on his brow. “That can’t be right.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glared at the lock screen. The harsh white light illuminated exactly the same numbers as those staring back down at them in green LED from the wall of the station. 1:06AM. Aka, past the time any of the trains were running in Jon’s direction home.

“How? I checked as we were paying, we were getting ready to leave the restaurant at 11:40, it can’t have taken us over an hour to walk here, it was barely a mile!”

“... Jon what day is it?”

“What?”

“Just, check for me?”

Jon hit the button again and his phone screen lit up. “Just turned over to the 28th. Is that anything?”

“Spring forward, fall back, kurde,” Martin muttered under his breath. “Of course. Just our luck. Clocks just went forward for British Summertime. So we essentially just lost an hour, and it’s now one as opposed to just gone twelve. So... No trains.”

“... No trains”

There was a silence for a moment, breath starting to cloud in front of them as they breathed in the cool night air, rapidly getting colder. The silence was broken by the sound of Jon typing, fingers quickly skimming over his phone as he began trying to search for alternatives. “Buses maybe? I think they’re still running but I’m not sure if there’s any going my route....”

Another few seconds passed of Jon hurriedly typing and Martin chewing his lip. Eventually, he managed to muster up the courage to speak, “I mean.. You could always come back to mine?”

And immediately, his mind was racing with all the different reasons for why he shouldn’t have said that. This was only their third official date, was that too soon to invite Jon back to his house? They weren’t even technically dating yet, there was still a certain degree of casual about their relationship, they weren’t actually boyfriends. God, what if Jon misunderstood what he was saying? They’d had that conversation even before they’d started seeing each other, one friend trusting another with an intimate detail of their life. Martin didn’t want Jon to think he’d forgotten, or worse, was disregarding it. And even past those two points, Jon was technically still his boss - Logically he knew if they were breaking any kind of office conduct they would have done so three dinners ago, but this felt different, to invite someone to your home felt far more vulnerable, and serious.

“Uh- That’s okay, Martin I wouldn’t want to impose...”

Martin isn’t quite sure where he got the courage to continue. Normally he’d take Jon’s response to heart, overthink it, and end up interpreting it as ‘I don’t want to do that and am trying to let you down easy’. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine he’d had at dinner, or some spirit of the moment daring, but whatever it is possessed him long enough for him to say “You wouldn’t be imposing. Actually, I would rather like you to be there?”

Jon looked slightly stunned for a moment, before Martin began to see a faint flush darken his cheeks. “Oh, uhm...” A spike of anxiety shot through Martin as Jon dipped his head to cough into his fist, but when he drew it away again he looked somewhat... Bashful? “Well, if... Yes, okay then. I would like to be there as well.”

“Good.”

There was another few beats of silence before both, tipsy on averagely-priced wine and drunk on nervous energy, lapsed into childish giggles. “Lead the way, Mr Blackwood,” Jon crooned, leaning into his arm again, and Martin knew he was joking, playful atmosphere being allowed to overtake the anxious one between them, but he rather liked the sound of that.

It was another ten minutes of walking further to get back to Martin’s flat, and Jon only managed to stumble over his own two feet once, which may have been partially due to his own three glasses of red setting in, or just the fact that it was rather awkward to walk when trying to merge with the coat of the man beside you.

“It’s uhm, sorry if it’s a little messy, I wasn’t expecting company, obviously,” Martin apologised as he fumbled with the key in the lock.

“’M sure it’s fine.” Jon’s speech was getting a little messier now, but really only to the degree that was notable by Standard Jon English. He wasn’t quite at the swaying on his feet stage yet, but he was blinking sleepily, a small, content smile playing gently at his lips.

As he stepped in the door, Martin shrugged his coat off and hung it by the door, gesturing an invitation for Jon to do the same, which he accepted. Martin took his hand again to lead him inside, but let go again soon enough to step into the small alcove of the kitchen to fetch two glasses and fill them at the sink. “I think we could both use these,” he said softly, handing one to Jon, who took it gratefully. They sipped their water in silence for a moment, enjoying the relative peace and warmth that being inside afforded them. They didn’t sit, both just leaned against the wall while Jon took in the contents of a bookshelf and Martin watched him do so, both with equal levels of intrigue.

Eventually, the silence was broken by the muffled sound of a yawn from Jon, who tried to cover it with one hand. “Right, maybe time for bed then?” Martin suggested, taking the glass from him and putting them both beside the sink to deal with tomorrow.

When he returned Jon was hovering around the couch, like he wanted to take a seat but was unsure how to go about doing so. “You okay?”

“Oh, uhm, yes, I just... You wouldn’t happen to have a spare blanket, would you?”

“What?”

“Sorry to be a bother I just- Never mind, it’s fine. Good night, Martin.”

“...What?”

“I- I’m sorry did I do something wrong?”

“No, just... C’mon, bedrooms this way.”

“Oh!” And there was that flush again, more visible under the lights of the flat than it had been under streetlamps.

“... Jon, did you think I was going to make you sleep on the sofa?” Martin felt his voice trail slightly upwards at the end, struck both by humour and concern.

“I didn’t want to presume!” Jon said, shaking his hands out. “Um... Okay then, lead the way.”

Martin smiled, before doing the mental math and squinting. “Two seconds?” He said, before quickly making his way into the bedroom and doing his best to make the room look as presentable as possible within a short amount of time. A minute or two later he opened the door again, and Jon made his way inside.

His room wasn’t anything special, just a standard bedroom in a low quality apartment, but the duvet and quilt had been straightened and clothes haphazardly strewn about the room had been banished into the laundry basket, and the lamp on his bedside table was casting a soft yellow glow about the room, making the room feel warm and cosy.

Jon just kind of stood there for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to do next, before Martin realised what was wrong with the picture. “Oh, uhm, clothes, do you want to borrow a shirt or something?”

The words were out of Martin’s mouth before he could really think through the implications of them, practicality and comfort overriding the realisation that Jon borrowing his shirt would mean Jon, in his bed, wearing his clothes.

“That would be good, thank you.”

Martin attempted to keep his composure by going over to his drawers and rooting around for two shirts, one for himself and one for Jon. “I’d offer you bottoms too but I’m not really sure they’d fit, is that okay?” Martin said, turning to hand Jon a shirt. He wasn’t sure what Jon was comfortable with, where boundaries lay yet, he didn’t want to force Jon into something that overstepped.

“I think that should be fine,” Jon said, and Martin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Right, uh, do you want to take the bathroom and I’ll...?”

“Okay, sure, sure.”

Jon made his way through the other door in the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Martin was just finished changing into his own pyjamas when a knock came from the other side of the door, startling him slightly. “Oh, finished!”

The door opened, and Jon walked into the room. Now, Martin had known, theoretically, for the last three minutes that Jon had been gone that when he saw him again he would be standing in his bedroom wearing his shirt. But it was quite another thing to actually see it, soft golden lamplight reflecting against eyes that at this point were losing the fight to stay open, too-large shirt with a faded movie poster on it hanging loosely around his shoulders, panning down to boxers and bare feet on the wooden floor. Martin felt his breath catch in his throat slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, fine. Do you, uhm, need anything?”

“No, no, I’m fine thank you, I think I’m just about ready to pass out if it’s all the same to you.”

“I can agree with that.”

Jon kept his eyes on the bed, watching until Martin had walked over to his chosen side and pulled the covers back before padding round to the opposite and climbing in beside him.

There were a few awkward moments where they both got comfortable. Martin hadn’t shared a bed with someone in quite a while, and it was an odd sensation to try and get used to again. “Pillows, do you- Is that enough?”

“Two is more than fine, thank you Martin,” Jon said, cleaning back against them.

“Right, well... Good night, Jon.”

“Good night, Martin.” Jon said, voice barely above a whisper now as his eyes drifted closed. Martin took that as a cue to turn the light off.

Martin had never been aware of how loud the analog clock hanging on his wall was until that moment, dull ticks making themselves thunderous in the silence between them. He must have counted to sixty several times over before Martin heard a rustling beside him, and felt the duvet twitch.

“Martin?” If Jon’s goodnight had been a whisper, this was barely audible, but as it was Martin was so aware of every footstep of his neighbours, creaking of pipes, or car going past outside, it sounded like it was said directly into his ear. Which, really, wasn’t that far off, considering how close Jon was, lying on the pillow next to him.

“Mmmh?”

“I.. Thank you, for today. For this.”

“You don’t have to thank me for a date, Jon, that’s... I mean, not that I’m not tempted to thank you in return but that’s not how that works.”

He rolled on to his side to face Jon, and was greeted by a face only a few inches away him his. “Oh. Hi.”

Jon smiled. “Hi.”

“Can I... Do you mind if...” Words failing him, Martin leaned forward. When Jon didn’t seem to retreat, he leaned further, until he was pressing a kiss to his brow. “Is... Is that okay?”

There was a low rumbling from Jon’s throat, vibrating across the pillow. “More than okay. Encouraged, even,” Jon said, and suddenly he was pressing a kiss to Martin’s cheek in return. He searched under the duvet for a moment, before twining his fingers together with Martin’s, and proceeded to roll over to face away from him, dragging Martin’s arm with him until it was draped across him, gently cradling their bodies together. “Good night, Martin.”

Yeah. Yeah, it was a pretty good night.

#My Post #My Writing #I hate to say it but it's 2:15 if there's spelling errors that's tomorrow oran's problem #The Magnus Archives #Jonmartin #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood #dudeiwannasleep

234 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Text

Haven Gray

CW: Abducted whumpee, description of missing person, captivity, BBU/WRU

Where Is Haven Gray?

r/FindTheMissing

•Posted by u/bananasare2appealing

3 days ago

In the summer of 20XX, 21-year-old Haven Gray texted family and friends to let them know a second job interview they’d just finished had gone well, and they expected to be offered the job.

They made plans to have dinner with a couple of friends to celebrate, but never showed up to the restaurant. They were reported missing by their parents later that night and have never been seen again.

Hey, everyone, this is my first attempt at a post like this, so I hope you’ll go easy on me! Haven Gray is a kind of a personal case to me, I went to the same high school a few years behind them and there was still a lot of talk about what could have happened and like, their picture is in a memorial frame in the hallway by the principal’s office. It’s just a really important case to me and I hope they figure out what happened to Haven one day.

Haven Gray was the oldest of three children born to Matthew and Maria Gray in the small town of Trenton, Indiana. Tall, with long wavy red hair and gray eyes, they stood out in a crowd in more ways than one.

Haven set records for their high school’s cross-country track team, played well on the school basketball team, and maintained a 3.5 GPA alongside plenty of extracurriculars and an active social life.

They then spent two years attending Trenton Community College, looking to finish out their degree at Indiana State University and go into the human resources field. They kept up a part-time job on the side, but during the summer before they would move to ISU, they decided to look for full-time work to help save up some money.

Haven’s mother Maria was interviewed after their disappearance by local news station INNW as saying that Haven was very excited about finishing up their degree and moving into their first real apartment.

Haven had seen an ad on a job-hunting website for a receptionist for a temp agency that specialized in placing HR professionals in nearby companies. Seeing a way to get some relevant experience before they finished up their degree, they applied and were contacted for a job interview.

Here’s where things get just a little weird, before they get even weirder.

Haven texted a photo of the strip mall where the job interview was, and noted that the company was not located in a well-maintained place, which made Haven very nervous. The signage also seemed brand new, which conflicted with information on the company website suggesting they’d been in that location for years.

They waited in their car and called the company phone. Only when someone came out to greet them did Haven go inside for the interview.

The first interview went smoothly, and Haven excitedly called their friends and family to say a second interview was already scheduled with the owner of the small company. It turned out, they explained, that the creepy location was no longer the company’s main location, and their second interview would be at a different address in a much nicer part of town.

They did not give any explanation, if any was given to them, about the reason for brand new signage if the business was in the process of leaving that address. On the day of the second interview, one week later, Haven’s mother saw them leaving in a deep blue top with satin detailing at the neck and gray slacks.

They exchanged goodbyes, and Haven reminded their mother they would be meeting friends tonight, either to celebrate a good interview or commiserate over a bad one.

“My comfort,” Maria Gray said in her interview with INNW, “is that I said goodbye and I love you. I have that, at least. So many don’t get that final chance. I just wish I had known it was the last time. I would have looked at them a little longer.”

From here, Haven is seen on camera at their ‘regular’ Starbucks a few moments later, ordering a large (venti) iced latte. An automatic speed-checker camera next to the highway captured their car with license plate clearly visible driving in the direction of the interstate a few minutes later.

Two hours after this sighting, they called a friend, Natalie Morales, to tell her that the interview had gone well and they believed they would be offered the job. Dinner that night, Haven said, would definitely be a celebration.

They texted three other friends, Maria, and Matthew - as well as a younger sibling. These are the last direct communications anyone had with Haven Gray.

“They didn’t sound scared,” Natalie said in her own interview with True Crime Podcast Now You See Them, Now You Don’t. "Not at all. I’ve thought about it over and over again, trying to ask myself, was there fear there? Had something already happened? And I just don’t think so. I think whatever happened, happened after they hung up the phone. They were excited, said the pay rate was way more than they expected for a receptionist job. The only thing is that they said the guy who interviewed them kind of... gave them the, you know. Made the hair on their arms stand up. You know what I mean? And I thought of that first, when they never... but he has an alibi.”

The man in question is Ladd Prescott, the stated owner of the temp agency Haven applied to. Ladd gave multiple interviews, off-camera and to law enforcement, but he did not leave the office and is seen on in-office security cameras and he is not considered a person of interest in the case.

The final image of Haven’s whereabouts that day comes from the CCTV camera at an ATM for Haven’s bank one hour after the final text message sent to their father Matthew. They are seen pulling up in their car to the drive-thru ATM, where they withdrew $300.

Notable about this footage is three things:

1. Haven appears to look directly at the camera twice, deliberately holding their gaze maybe

2. Their hair, carefully styled when they left for the interview according to Maria, is noticeably in disarray, and they do not appear to be wearing the same shirt they had on when they left (the footage is super grainy, so this is hard to tell exactly, but if you check here you can see that they appear to be wearing a white t-shirt).

3. A shadow just behind them moves independently of Haven, gestures a few times, and it appears - and police believe - that someone else is in the car with Haven Gray directing their movements.

Haven never arrived at the restaurant. When their friends attempted to contact them, the phone went directly to voicemail. This was very out of the ordinary for Haven, so friends called Maria and Matthew, who became immediately worried and contacted the police.

Haven Gray officially was listed as a missing person the next day.

Four days later, their car - with IDs, debit and credit card, a book they were reading, and their resume and list of questions from the interview all inside - was located at a nearby riverfront, abandoned. The only thing missing was the $300 in cash Haven had taken out of the ATM, and Haven themself.

A witness came forward later stating they had seen a man with ashy blond hair who appeared to be in his 40′s or 50′s smoking next to the car the day Haven was last seen. This man has never come forward or been located and his connection to Haven’s disappearance, if any, is unknown.

Law enforcement believes that Haven was abducted within half an hour of finishing their interview by someone who forced their way into the car, and likely directed to the ATM to take cash out and then met someone else or moved into a different car after parking Haven’s at the riverfront.

Weirdly, the riverfront was checked the day after Haven was declared missing, which suggests someone came back and moved the car after the witness saw the smoking man, then moved it back into place after the initial search of the area was over with.

Cell towers picked up pings from Haven’s phone for four hours afterward, heading due east. The nearest big city would have been Cincinnati, so it’s possible the abductor headed that direction. If they did, though, they took a winding route and Haven’s phone was turned off or discarded before reaching the city.

Look, I know this is a big conspiracy theory and there’s absolutely no proof, but I think Haven was abducted by WRU.

Why?

Three weeks prior to their disappearance, Haven attended a bar’s “singles night”. They mentioned to friends later that they connected with a man who worked for WRU as a handler, but then decided they couldn’t handle the reality of what he did and cut off contact before they could have their first real date.

(The handler in question has been cleared during the investigation, but I still have my suspicions)

I know this seems like the flimsiest reason, but Haven’s friends all say that the man was very upset by Haven’s discomfort with his job, tried to keep contacting them for days. I think the job interview is a red herring and it’s this handler guy who is behind it somehow - maybe him, or his friends.

Also, there’s a WRU Training Facility in Cincinnati, Ohio, only a few hours away... and law enforcement never even tried to get a warrant to search there. Easy way to get rid of someone if you did something to them, right?

(I know, I know, WRU has standards and does checks and all that, but seriously. Think about it.)

A year later, improbably, a farmer working to mow the ditch next to his fields found Haven’s cell phone in a ziploc inside a second plastic bag. The phone had been wiped to factory settings and no new useful information was found.

So, where is Haven Gray?

Were they murdered? Abducted? Will we find their body in a field one day? Were they just dumped in the river next to their abandoned car? Are they part of the WRU system now? No one seems to know, and reported sightings of them in Los Angeles, New York City, and even one mention from Sydney, Australia, seem hard to believe.

Haven’s mother Maria says they have no plans to declare Haven legally dead, and they intend to keep looking “as long as it takes”.

What Are Your Thoughts?

WRU NEW ACQUISITION INTAKE FORM FACILITY 005

SUBJECT: 549065

DATE OF ACQUISITION: 06.06.20XX

TIME OF ACQUISITION: 1:45 PM

LOCATION ASSIGNED: FACILITY 005, CINCINNATI, OHIO

PREVIOUS ALIAS: Haven Finley Gray

AGE: 21

DATE OF BIRTH: 07.19.20XX

HAIR: Red

EYES: Gray

HEIGHT: 6′0″

WEIGHT: 153 lbs

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

DESIGNATION: Romantic

KNOWN SKILLS: Subject in school for business-related major, excellent with typing, record-keeping, work with Excel spreadsheets, etc. Subject reports regular workouts primarily consisting of long-distance cardio. Subject refused to provide details on sex life but is known to have been active in the dating scene of local area. Subject is known to be gregarious and social.

HOBBIES: Subject mentioned reading as a hobby, with primary interest in fantasy and science fiction. Three books located in subject’s car at time of acquisition.

KNOWN CONCERNS: Subject is showing some irregularities in heartrate, likely due to fear. No other known concerns.

KNOWN IMMEDIATE FAMILY: Matthew and Maria Gray, both living, location Trenton, Indiana. Grandparents are deceased.

SIBLINGS: Two younger siblings: Mark, brother, two years younger, and Penny, sister, four years younger.

METHOD OF ACQUISITION: Involuntary.

ACQUISITION DETAILS: Access to subject provided by local business. Subject was apprehended without incident by Handler Benjamin Ralford. Subject was given an injection of sedative and transferred to WRU company vehicle at 3:15 pm. The rest of the acquisition proceeded without incident.

ASSIGNED HANDLERS:

CONTRACT SIGNED: 06.09.20XX 5:55 PM

PRIMARY: Benjamin Ralford, per request, acting as primary. Handler and Processor, Romantic Division.

SECONDARY: Melissa Striker, Senior Handler and Processor, Romantic Division

SIGNATURE PROVIDED VOLUNTARILY, SUBJECT NOT SEDATED FOR SIGNING. SUBJECT SHOWED NO VISIBLE SIGNS OF INJURY AT TIME OF SIGNING. SUBJECT REPORTED FEELINGS OF FEAR AND CONFUSION COMMON TO NEW RECRUITS.

CONTRACT SIGNATURE: Haven Gray, aka 549065

PRESENT AT TIME OF SIGNING: Handler Benjamin Ralford, Badge #3345, WRU Attorney Ryan Alderson.

ESTIMATED COST FOR TRAINING: $125,000 USD

COMPENSATION TO BE PAID BY PROSPECTIVE: $500,000 USD

CURRENT LOCATION: Romantic Division Room #12, post-signing contract

TRAINING PLAN: ALL Positions 1-35, Flexibility, Sensitivity, Endurance, Dance, Socialization

COMMENTS:

I’m going to take every fucking thing out of that head and put back in only what I want to be there. I think they’ll fall in line once the Drip is really working on them. My professional recommendation is total illiteracy should be emphasized before moving on to other training. They’ll do better with focus and commitment on the skills we want to impart that way. I am also recommending absolutely no scarring unless there is no other option. - Benjamin Ralford, Primary Handler

Scribbled at the bottom of the paper and not put in to WRU’s digitized records system is a note in Ralford’s handwriting:

Should’ve gone on that fucking date, asshole

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump

#epistolary #whump #horror fiction #epistolary fiction #going missing #captured #captivity #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #box buddy #nonbinary whumpee #allyn bb #wru intake form #wru intake paperwork #implied noncon #abduction tw #abducted whumpee

132 notes · View notes