#Designed by Gymnasium Design Office

[w2mini]

INARIZAKI TEAM . CALL THE POLICE! HUH?!

inarizaki vb team x manager!reader

warnings ; swearing, but its just pure fluff, and they’re all just whipped for you 😋

SYNOPSIS ˎˊ˗ It was currently the students favorite time of the academic year, the intramurals. Unfortunately though, you got injured during one of your games, the Inarizaki vb team panics, chaos ensues.

╰ You honestly don’t know why you agreed to be in this position, but a classmate of yours listed your name on the players for the basketball girls team without your knowledge about it so now you’re quite literally forced to play to represent your class.

“PLEASE I swear it’ll be just one game” one of your class officers pleads for you to join.

“But I don’t even play basketball-“

“We barely have any players and most of us quite literally suck at sports!”

“no”

“yes”

“no”

“I’ll treat you a (favorite food)”

Now you were tempted by that offer, you paused for a moment before letting out a sigh and finally nodded in agreement.

“Alright fine I’ll play” you swore you saw your classmate having sparkles around them after you agreed.

And that is how you ended up in this situation as you were currently warming up on the basketball court and wearing the jersey your class designed, at least the color suited you nicely.

You couldn’t care less about the outcome of the game and you just wanted it to end as soon as possible, that is if it weren’t for them watching on the sidelines.

“GO [NAME]!!”

A certain piss blonde yelled from the audience, your eye twitched in annoyance and you could feel a vein pop from your head, good lord this is so embarrassing.

Although it was the Intramurals, varsity players weren’t allowed to join the games, hence why the volleyball club that you babysit managed decided to watch you play and embarrass you with their loud cheers (Atsumu).

“THATS OUR PRETTY MANAGER OVER THERE!”

“SHOOT THE BALL [NAME]”

You were mentally praying for the gods to take that annoying setter away and saying that he was ready for it, you didn’t even dare to give the group a single glance as your face heated up in embarrassment, your fist was screaming to pack a punch right now.

“Yer look good in that jersey!” why thank you Osamu for being the better twin but did it really have to be in front of half of the school?

And god forbid giving Suna a phone, you can clearly see that he has his phone up with the camera pointed towards you, what ever happened to media privacy these days?

The referee for the game suddenly blew their whistle, signaling to start the match, and gestured for the players to round up on the court.

‘It’s just intramurals’ is what you repeatedly told yourself, while you didn’t care about who would step out of the gymnasium as winners, you felt slightly nervous about making a mistake as you thought about the worst-case scenarios that could go downhill as you played.

One of your classmates noticed this as she approached you and gave a light pat on your back “Just take it easy and enjoy the game” Right, good point, you weren’t even a basketball player in the first place.

──── ──── ──── ──── ──── ──

The game was surprisingly going okay despite being four points away from the other section’s score, sweat trickled down your skin as your breath kept getting heavier. You placed your hands on your knees as you tried to regain your composure, damn since when was basketball this intense?

Meanwhile, on the sidelines, the volleyball club kept cheering for you as the game went on. Despite how worn out you were starting to feel, their cheers never failed to motivate you despite how stupid it’s gonna sound most of the time, a soft smile forms on your lips at the wholesome thought.

“[Name] is surprisingly doing good for a sport she doesn’t play,” Kita stated continuing to observe you, despite the lack of emotion on his face, he was impressed with your stamina and the ability to keep up despite how intense it gets and the disadvantage of your physique. (Atsumu and Osamu’s constant bickering was your stamina training)

Aran nods in agreement with Kita’s statement, unbeknownst to them, it was Aran who taught you a few tricks in basketball since you complained about not knowing the sport, although he wasn’t that much of a player of basketball, he was willing to help you learn since you’re their precious manager after all.

Aran taught back to the week before the intramurals, the volleyball boys had just finished their practice for the day and you were currently passing their water bottles to each one like the amazing manager you were. When it was Aran’s turn to receive it, you handed him the water bottle and proceeded to ask if he still played basketball.

“I don’t play that often anymore, but I still know how to, is something the matter with it?” He asks as he drinks from the bottle and wipes off the sweat from his face with a hand towel.

“It’s nothing serious, I just got forced to play for the upcoming intramurals, and well…” Aran made an ‘oh I see’ expression as he nodded in response.

He ruffled your hair and had a warm smile on his face “If you’re asking for help I’m willing to do so, we can start tomorrow after club practice” Sometimes you ask yourself if the man in front of you right now descended from the heavens.

“Really?! That really means a lot, thanks Aran!” he swore he saw your eyes light up. You got the ACE of Inarizaki feeling his knees weaken at your sight, you were just so adorable!

Atsumu abruptly standing up from his seat and cheering loudly snapped Aran from his thoughts, he can be so ironic sometimes.

The ball was passed to you as you dribbled away with it to go to the designated hoop your team was supposed to shoot in. Unfortunately for you, the disadvantage of getting the ball was getting cornered by the enemy team.

Fuck, this is what you hated the most, defense. You held the ball tightly as they cornered you from the back to prevent you from going further.

As you were about to attempt to pass the ball to another teammate, you felt a sudden force slam into your back, causing you to drop to one knee and gasp in pain as your knee collided with the ground, you swore you felt a bruising form there.

You were thrown off balance as your back was forced downward, propelling your body forward and sending a sudden shock through your spine with the sudden movement. You tumbled to the ground, hitting your head with a resounding thud.

It all happened simultaneously, a sharp, unbearable ache shot through your knee. You couldn't tell if it was bleeding or not due to your hazy vision. As if that wasn't enough, your back threatened to cramp up while your head throbbed with an intense, stabbing pain.

You could hear the referee's whistle signaling to stop the game. You clutched your head, trying to ease the pain, as your body shivered from the overwhelming intensity of the pain from head to knee.

“Oh my god are you okay? I didn’t mean to trip on you I’m so sorry!” one of the players from the other section that you were playing against with cries out, you could hear the visible guilt in her voice.

"[Name]!" Aran's urgent call rang out, prompting the entire volleyball club to spring into action. In an instant, they converged around you, their concern palpable as panic threatened to take hold.

“IS SHE OKAY? SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!” Michinari panicked, not even realizing he mentioned the wrong department.

“Dumbass! yer mean the ambulance?” Atsumu replies as he had his arms protectively wrapped around your figure.

“Atsumu that’s enough, we should bring her to the nurse’s office.” Kita instructs as they all nodded.

“Can yer stand?” Atsumu assists you to stand on your feet and observed your figure, you weakly nod as you barely stood up straight, not when your knee was bleeding.

“Are yer a dumbass? Isn’t it obvious she can’t?!” says Osamu and this only fueled Atsumu’s anger until you spoke.

"No, I-I'm fine, I swear," you lied, trying to prevent them from bickering further. You feel your legs immediately giving up, so you quickly hold onto Atsumu's arm for support before you completely fall. "Okay, maybe not," you muttered weakly.

As your head spun and your whole body screamed for help, you found yourself holding onto Atsumu's arm for support like how a koala holds onto a tree. You rested your aching head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but release a frustrated sigh. Guilt washed over you as you realized you had dragged them into this mess. This was not how any of this was supposed to go.

The blonde's eyes softened when he saw you, he’s always had a soft spot for you after all. It was rare for you to ask for help from others, but this time was an exception. "I've got ya, princess. Yer can count on me," He said. You simply nodded in reply, not expecting what would happen next.

“Huh wait- what are you doing-“ You gasped when he swept you off your feet and held you in a bridal-style embrace as you held onto his shirt, drawing coos from the surrounding crowd.

“Yer so embarrassing!” Osamu cringed at the scene, Suna took a picture, the others just let out a sigh in disbelief, and you were too exhausted to protest and ask him to release you (you didn’t wanna walk anyway). Despite your weariness, you couldn't help but blush in embarrassment at the attention.

“At least be careful when carrying her yer pig!” the grey-haired twin calls out in concern and annoyance, he could never trust his brother with these types of situations.

“I am being careful! Would ya quit complaining?!” Atsumu retorted as he held onto you tightly as if he was scared to drop you.

“Oh my god, just go!” Aran stops them from fighting further as they all went to the nurse.

──── ──── ──── ──── ──── ──

You were currently sitting on one of the beds as the nurse tended your wound on the knee, “You should be more careful next time. It’s a relief it won't be that serious,” the nurse states as she sanitizes your knee before wrapping it up with a bandage.

You let out a hiss as the pain shot through you but soon collected yourself. You applied the cold compress the nurse had handed you to your forehead, and you felt a surge of cold, refreshing mintiness that eased the cramp in your back, thanks to the cooling patch the nurse had placed there.

Meanwhile outside of the nurse’s office was a bunch of guys who were waiting for you with distressed faces like they had just gotten their horrible exam scores, everyone who passed by them gave them a concerned look.

Although they may not always express it openly, they genuinely value and appreciate your hard work as their manager. Your significant contributions have made you an indispensable part of the club, and it's difficult to envision the team without your steadfast and reliable presence.

Who will refill the water bottles? Who will give them their towels after a match? Who will stop the twins from arguing? Who’s going to shower them with your lovely praises—?!

“You guys look depressed” Your voice suddenly cuts through the unbearable silence that loomed over them as you stood there at the door arms crossed, and a cooling patch on your forehead.

Not wasting a second later, the twins tackled you as they dramatically cried and rambled on how they couldn’t live without you.

“WE THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA DIE!” chill out Atsumu.

“Please don’t do that again, I haven’t repaid your (favorite food) that I ate the other day” It’s okay Osamu– wait YOU DID WHAT?!

“I don't think you guys should do that-“Go tell them Omimi!

“Be careful with her! she just got out of the office!” Aran calls out in concern, poor him never getting a break with the twins’ antics.

“Andddd that’s going to the favorites album,” says Suna as he records the moment with his phone, what a bastard.

The pair of twins who were still clinging onto you are taken aback when they hear you let out a chuckle. Even Kita seems astonished, holy moly you were smiling? Their manager, who was always so serious and stoic around them was chuckling?!?!

"…Don't worry guys, it's just that my body isn't used to sudden physical activity, but the nurse assured me that I'll be back to normal in no time," you reassured them with a gentle smile playing on your lips, conveying the situation with a calming tone.

With the way they portray you in this moment right now, you probably wouldn't survive a Greek mythology story if Aphrodite was involved.

“Yer cute when ya smile,” Atsumu said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, shamelessly poking your cheek.

Aran approaches you and ruffles your hair, “We’re just glad you’re okay” he says with a warm smile.

Without warning, Michinari enthusiastically shouts, 'GROUP HUG!' and proceeds to pull everyone in close for an embrace.

You have consistently maintained a sense of distance from the boys, even though you are their manager, creating a substantial barrier that keeps you separated from them.

Becoming too personal and vulnerable with them was the last thing you wanted; it's not that you disliked them— you simply didn't want to appear as weak and delicate in their presence.

And not to mention their fangirls too, that burden alone was heavy enough to carry on your own, they were considered one of the best teams nationwide, and it was pressuring enough to just stand beside them, you weren't strong and outstanding like them, so you decided that it's probably for the best to stay hidden in the shadows.

Walking quickly past them in the hallways, only engaging in conversation if they initiated it, and maintaining a strictly professional relationship with them as classmates. These were the guidelines you set for yourself.

But seeing how much they were worried for you at this moment right now over an injury that would heal quickly tomorrow, you couldn't help but let a sense of vulnerability crack through your shell. You felt safe with them.

Maybe you could start getting used to moments like these.

NOTES ˎˊ˗ did i write this during our intramurals where i was supposed to be cheering for our team but instead wrote this? yes. Also I’m legit about the injury too btw, idk how my classmate survived that, shes a different breed😭😭

IKK im supposed to be updating love next door but i just had a thought, erm… forgive me🥹🥹

im never getting tired w/ these inarizaki manager fics, someone tag me on more 🔥🔥

hello mga fellow filipinos na intrams ngayon, kaya pa ba? HHAHAHHAHAH

sorry if i couldnt fit the rest of the inarizaki members and gave them more interactions… i may or may have not focused more on [name], whoops

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

No Other Gods

Serial killer! Billy Russo x Female Reader.

Billy’s POV mostly

Summary: Billy’s on the run, moving from place to place as he leaves a trail of bodies behind. When he steps into a church to hide, he stumbles upon someone that makes him want to stay.

Warnings: Dub- con, violence, gore, blood, blood smearing, so much murder, mentions of Billy's past assault attempt, suggestion of possible sexual assault attempts toward the reader, religious themes, blasphemy, sexual acts in a church, thoughts of non-con (no actual non-con), poison, restraints, oral, fingering, sexual intercourse, wax play/heat play, Devil worship. 

If you want clarification on a possible trigger, I am happy to elaborate. 

I took the dove out back, shot it, then resurrected it so I could kill it again. Be warned.

For my lovely @ittybxttykxttytxtty who was so instrumental in the design of this fic. This goes out to you, love, who reminded me that I shouldn't be afraid to write whatever inspires me.

He’s calm. 

Each step he takes is slow, measured, he hears the echo of it on the quiet street, the drag of his shoe on the concrete sidewalk. 

He turns the corner, and has to fight the instinct to hold his breath as they turn their heads to look up at him. The murder weapon tucked into the waistband of his jeans feels ten pounds heavier.

Even breaths, one in, one out, he knows nothing, he has no sense of concern, or worry. He blinks, feels trepidation wash from his skin.

Internally, he readjusts his course, doesn’t want to walk past the group of officers that are studying him from further up the street, doesn’t want to answer questions just yet, not until he has his story straight.

From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the church and he changes his walk ever so slightly that it looks as though he’s been heading there the entire time.

When he’s at the closest point, he raises his head and smiles, gives a little wave to the officers, wishes them a good day, though he knows what they know, and it’s not a good day for them.

The church is pristine, unlike the other buildings on the street, it stands with fresh paint and the smell of almost dried varnish and scrubbed steps that tell him that this church is probably the most coveted place in the entire town. 

Billy, having just cut a man’s throat in the High school gymnasium, steps past the door, and does not immediately combust.

Surely, that must mean he’s doing something right, that his cause is a good one, maybe even approved of in the eyes of God.

He’s not convinced.

For a moment, he thinks it’s empty, thinks he’s alone with God and his thoughts, up until the slight movement of shoulders draws his eye.

He’s in disbelief that he missed you the first time, the light of the stained glass hitting your sedentary form.

He takes some quiet steps forward, swears he feels the concealed knife grow warmer. He watches you, studies in rapt attention the way the coloured lights look on you, the way they illuminate your hair, makes his fingers ache to touch something that looks explicit in its forbiddenness.

Your dress is white, or a cream colour that tells him the outward state of your mind, the purity nurtured in your soul.

He moves faster now, eager to see you, to know what you look like, to hear your voice, to look into your eyes.

He turns when he makes it to your pew, sees the way the light caresses the planes of your face, and he wishes he could do the same.

You are radiant, undisturbed beauty, your hands clasped together beneath your chin, a small rosary wound between your fingers. He wants to touch your hair, swirl strands of it around his finger, he wants to feel your skin, hold your form beneath his palms.

Everything he wants, halts, the moment you turn your head and look up at him.

His lips part in surprise, he’s taken by you. You must be an angel, or something more.

“Hello.” You say softly, gazing up at him with unsure eyes.

“Hello sweetheart, I'm sorry to bother you.” Billy answers smoothly, as though he isn't desperate for you to get closer so that he can catch your scent.

You look like you smell like flowers, he thinks to himself, bristles with delight when you finally stand, the light streaming through the stained glass paints you with a myriad of colors.

“It's okay,” you soothe, “I don't mind helping.” You smile at him, an ease of trust in your eyes. Trust, he could so easily extinguish with the weapon concealed on him.

You extend your hand, giving him your name, he smiles, gives his back. In your eyes, he can see something he doesn’t quite recognize.

Too pure, Billy finally decides. You're too pure, there must be some wrong.

“I’m new to town,” Billy explains, leaning in so that he can stand in God’s light with you, in hopes that you can absolve him of the thing he has done.

“Got a little bit lost. Will you help me find my way?”

You smile, and it reminds him of warm fires in the winter, of standing in sunlight after being drenched from head to toe.

“Where are you going?”

.

One of the wives whispers something in your ear, Billy watches you tilt your head back laughing. You had this entire town wrapped around your finger and before he’d arrived, he’s sure no one had ever questioned your purity.

A white dress and blue cardigan, he wants to take you into one of the back rooms of the church and push his murderous hands under your dress, feel your gasp in his skin as his hands paw at your delectable thighs.

He wants to ruin the very image of you, reshape you for him, and him alone.

He turns his head slightly, observes that he’s not the only man here transfixed by you, but one in particular catches his eye.

The reverend, in the same clothes he’s just delivered Sunday sermon, gazes lustfully at you, his glasses balanced at the very tip of his nose to conceal the direction of his eyes. 

He recognises the expression, knows it like he’s looking into the face of someone who once looked at him the very same way. The reason he started killing in the first place. 

He feels the itch swell inside of himself, his fingers flex.

It seems as though it would be time to hunt again very soon.

.

“Lost again?” Someone says behind him while he’s picking out laundry detergent.

He turns, seeing you there, in a pale pink shirt, and tan pants that hide your figure from his view. 

He smiles, watches the way you light up even more. A sweet, little morsel made for his fangs.

He holds up two different boxes of detergent for you to see.

“What do you think?” He asks.

You hum, deep in thought.

“This one,” You say, pointing at the item in his right hand, “smells too flowery for my taste, and you don’t seem like a man that likes to smell like flowers.” 

He smiles, raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

“And this one,” You point to his other hand, “Oh, that’s the one I use.”

“So it must be the best.” He agrees, as if you made a proper suggestion, putting the latter into his shopping cart.

You smile up at him in amusement.

“So, how are you getting all of this back to your place?” You ask, tilting your head at the moderate amount of groceries in his cart.

He turns, looking at what you were observing.

“You’re right, I might have picked up too many things for my walk back home. I’ll have to put some things back.” He agrees with her implications.

“No way!” You protest, reaching to take his hand, tugging him with you.

“Pastor Wade brought me along with his wife, I’m sure they’ll have some extra space in the back for you.” He follows, feeling anger that Wade had found himself closer to you than before. You wave your hand excitedly at the reverend, and Billy smiles internally at the sour look he receives from the man himself.

The trunk gets filled with the reverend’s new items, and Billy smiles, looks at you as you tilt your head, trying to solve a problem of too many groceries and too many people trying to fit into one vehicle.

“Give it up,” He says, mouth angled near your ear, “I’ll find another ride-”

“Don't you dare,” You argue, “I promised you a ride home and I won’t back down now.”

He smirks, watches you pile yours, and then his items into the backseat of the car. When you’re done, there’s only just enough space for only one person to fit.

“That’s okay.” You insist, “I can sit on you, if you don’t mind?”

Of course he doesn’t mind.

“If you’re sure.” He taunts.

“It’s a great idea.” Wade’s wife echoes, too eager to have them both in the back seat and the journey started.

Billy does his best to appear aloof, he gets in, and looks up at you expectantly.

You’re hesitant at first, before looking around, and then climbing into the back seat of the car to seat yourself in his lap.

Billy takes a deep breath, exhales, watches the pores on your neck and collarbone rise when his breath touches you.

A few moments into the ride and you’re wriggling uncomfortably in his lap.

“What is it?” He asks.

“Warm.” You explain, reaching for the buttons on your pink cardigan, brushing his stomach with your hand as you tug it off your shoulders.

Billy watches, with rapt attention as you reveal a white shirt beneath your cardigan. When you almost slip off his lap, he reaches to grip your knees.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” He whispers, just so you can hear.

You hold conversation with Wade and his wife throughout the journey, talking about how excited you are for the upcoming Christmas season, and that dressing up as an angel at the annual concert is a highlight for you.

All the while, Billy keeps you seated in his lap, your ass right on his hardening cock, the smell of blossoms drifting from your hair.

He closes his eyes, tries to distract himself from thinking too much about you, but he knows it doesn’t work. When the road gets bumpy, Wade apologises for the rough ride, and you respond with something reassuring.

You stiffen after a moment, and he knows he’s been caught.

He knows you feel him when you turn your head to look at him in surprise, his cock, hot and hard below your ass, rubbing against you as the car sputters along.

He looks right back at you, meets your shocked look with a sinister one of his own, wants you to know what a man feels like, makes sure you commit him to memory.

In the rearview, he sees pastor Wade glance at the pair of you. Billy looks back, holds his eyes, gives the supposedly pious man a smirk.

.

The next Sunday, you sit beside him in church.

It completely unfocuses him from his next target, he tilts his head to look at you.

Such a curious thing, drawn to something you now know isn’t as wholesome as appeared to be. It makes him feral, makes him want to put his hand on your thigh, slide it slowly up until he’s at the apex, tuck his obscenely large fingers under the waistband of your panties, find you dripping, feel you aching, press a lone finger to your swollen clit, make your sweet little cunt gush in God’s sacred domain. 

When it’s time to take his hand in prayer, he makes sure to do it as slowly as possible, dragging his fingers along your palm, your touch makes him feel blessed.

.

It becomes a habit, sitting beside him for Sunday mass, the eroticism of your touch right before you pray, before you ask God for forgiveness from all your impure thoughts and deeds, and Billy sits besides you, blood dripping from his hands as he imagines the ways he wants to violate you in this very church.

.

It’s a Wednesday evening when he steps into the church, the most desolate time possible. He knows there’s only two people here, him, and his target.

He moves slowly, cautiously, on the balls of his feet to avoid making too much sound. The wind blows, the front doors to the church groan. 

He passes the stained glass windows where he’d first met you, he passes the pew he sits at every Sunday while thinking about you, he passes the doors at the back of the church that he thought would make a decent place to defile you.

He goes deeper, till he can hear the quiet familiar slapping of a man going at it.

He’s not shocked by it, or scandalised, he knows his wife barely touches him, he knows she has an idea of what goes on inside his head. Billy’s studied her too, looked at her while she watched the way he leaned in to speak to you, a spark of realisation in her eyes. 

He makes gentle movements, turning the doorknob with two of his fingers at a pace so slow it goes unnoticed by the person on the other side of the door.

He gazes steadily through the small gap.

Pastor Wade has your pink cardigan pressed to his face. Billy remembers the last place he saw you wear it- in the back of Wade's car. 

He has one hand to his face, and the other stroking his meagre erection. Billy waits, in the stillness, the only sounds are the preacher’s laboured breaths and the movement of his hand.

There’s a right moment to act, and Billy waits patiently, he doesn’t have to talk himself into this one as much as he’s done with some others before. This one comes easily, in part because he’s grown accustomed to the feel of blood spilling onto his hands, almost craving it now, but mostly, it’s because Wade’s next intended victim is you.

In front of him, Wade groans, tilting his head back pace quickening. Billy pushes the door open. The wooden door doesn’t groan like it did before, Billy had greased the hinges just last week in preparation for this.

Billy stands behind the man, waiting for the precise moment, and when the preacher lets another groan loose from his lips, a warning of impending release, Billy strikes.

The man comes just as his throat is cut open, blood spraying from his neck as semen spills from his cock. Warm blood pours over Billy’s hands, as he supports the man as he drops, not wanting to cause more noise than necessary.

He lies on his side, turns his head upward, mouth parting in surprise as he sees Billy’s face. 

“I wish I could punish you more, but I’m not worried, I know the Devil is going to take his sweet time with you.”

He watches the words register behind the dying man’s eyes, and Billy smiles wickedly as life leaves him.

He tugs your cardigan free from Wade’s hand, it’s partially soaked in blood and will need to be properly disposed of, he doesn’t want anyone finding it and linking you to the crime in any way. 

He studies the soft pink material, smiles at the thought of you. He brings the material up to his nose, catching the smell of blossoms just barely clinging to the fabric.

The fluttering wings of a bird above makes him glance upwards, and he figures one must have found its way into the space between the ceiling and the roof, searching for a comfortable space.

He uses your cardigan to clean his knife, before turning, and heading for a sink to wash the blood from his hands.

.

He brings a casserole to the deceased’s house the evening they discover him dead. 

It’s just a little something to help out, he explains to Wade’s widow when he greets her in the kitchen. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, crying from the moment she’d heard the news, no doubt.

He doesn’t stay with her too long, excusing himself despite her attempts to hold onto his hand, the women around her gazing at him, more intrigued than ever about his culinary skills.

He wants to find you, to see you. There’s an itching inside of him that won’t go away until he knows you’re here with him.

When he finally catches sight of you, something inside of him unknots itself. You’re standing in the middle of a large group of concerned people, you look like you’re fighting tears with everything you have. A woman touches your shoulder, and you raise your head to give her a brave smile.

He pauses on the outskirts, wonders how he’s ever going to get your attention.

But he doesn’t have to worry, because your eyes lock with his as soon as he stands still, as if you’d been seeking him out this entire time. He gives you a small smile, something of an icebreaker from so far away, and you take it as an invitation, running right to him with tears already spilling down your cheeks.

Your body collides with his, and for a moment, there’s only you, and the softness of your form, and the smell of your hair and he’s quietly reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

He enjoys it, the way you grip his shirt, the way you cling to him with every ounce of strength you have. He hugs you back, finding a way to the soft loveseat in Wade’s living room. You don’t pull your head from his chest as you cry, you shake with big, heaving sobs, and he tries his best to comfort you.

If you’d only known what Wade’s intentions were with you, you wouldn’t be crying. After a while you calm, and you continue to cling to him while you sniffle, his shirt damp with your tears and he wears it like a badge of honour.

So many people stop in to check on you, more and more with each passing hour. Billy thinks more people are concerned with your wellbeing than with Wade’s actual widow.

It amuses him, that so many people are drawn to you, that you have such influence on everyone, that they care so much for you, and here you are, tucked into his body, turning your head into his chest to cry every now and again, growing less frequent with the more time that passes.

Later, he offers to take you home. He’s just been able to afford a slightly beat up car, and he asks if you’d be okay with being driven by him. You accept with sleepy eyes, and he smiles internally, going to find Wade’s wife to bid her goodbye.

He overhears one person speaking with another about the state in which the body was found, covered in his own blood and semen, throat slit from ear to ear. Billy is delighted to hear it, he wants everyone to know, he wants to shame Wade’s name, even in death.

His widow is sad to watch Billy leave, she grips at him once more, trying to wrap her arms around him the way you do. When he mentions your name, he watches her stiffen, mouth set in a grim line, something in her eyes like accusation, or knowledge of something that she cannot say to another soul. 

She doesn’t speak her accusations to him, and he leaves, wraps an arm around your wobbling form and helps guide you to his car.

You’re so tired, and you fall asleep in his car as soon as you’re buckled in. He drives slowly, takes the long way, anything to be by your side longer. Your cheeks are stained with tears, he thinks about how beautiful you’re going to look in black.

You hum sleepily, reaching across, he blinks in surprise when you take his hand in yours.

“I heard how he died. Can’t wrap my head around it. Someone just decided he shouldn’t be alive anymore. Can you believe that?”

The lord giveth, and the lord taketh away, he wants to say.

Out loud, “I’ve seen it a couple of times, back in New York.” he says instead.

You squeeze his hand.

“Do you think you could ever take a life?” 

His breaths pause, it was time to confess to you.

“I have,” He clears his throat, “I have killed people, I was in the army.”

Your head swivels to him in his peripherals, he glances back with a sad smile.

“I just thought you should know.” 

“Thanks for telling me.”

You continue to hold his hand.

“You- you’re not- you don’t hate me?” 

“It’s not in me to hate, I have to believe that the path you’re on was necessary to bring you to me.”

“To you?”

“So I can help you.” You answer, squeezing his hand.

He wants to rip you apart and reshape you with his own hands.

When he finally gets to your house, he helps you out of the car, helping you up the few stairs and supporting your weight as you get the door open. When he tries to let you walk on your own, you stumble, and he has to catch you before you fall.

“I’m really tired.” You explain to him, and he hums in understanding.

He takes you up to bed, watches you collapse onto the soft surface, knee length dress rucking up so that he catches just the quickest glimpse of your underwear.

His hands clench into fists. He wants to push your skirt up, bury his face between your legs, taste your little cunt, worship you until you come on his tongue. 

“Will you stay?” You ask, arms spread out, legs slightly bent as they press together.

He kicks his shoes off decisively.

“What will people say?” He teases.

“You don’t strike me as a man who’s ever cared about that.” You whisper softly.

He grins, climbs into bed beside you, reaches around your hip so that he can pull your body against his.

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispers as your eyelids flutter, struggling to stay conscious.

“G’night, Billy.” You respond, touching your face into his chest once more before you doze off completely.

It's too much power, and you must know it. To fall asleep so easily right beside him, every temptation to be like the predators he hunts. He could press his palm to your thigh, drag his hand up to your hips, you would never even know. He could do so much worse, pin you to the bed, pull his cock out and take you right here, watch you wake in shock while he fills you. Watch his cum leak out of your little hole. What could stop him? You? God? Everything he's wanted at the tip of fingers and all he has to do is take.

In the end, he doesn't do it. He lies beside you and thinks of all the vile things he could do and doesn't act on a single thing and he doesn't really know why.

He thinks it's because of the consequences. Doing that would mean you wouldn't want to be around him, and he needed you to want to be around him. 

By the time morning comes, and you wake, he's spent the entire night memorizing the feel of your body against his. If you feel his aching erection, you say nothing of it, and he's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

.

He finds you right after the funeral, lighting the candles that have gone out when the doors had been wide open to allow the coffin through.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, approaching you, swallows as he finally has a chance to fully appreciate your funeral attire. 

It's loose, giving you an almost formless shape, to hide from everyone's view, your skirt is just a little shorter than usual, probably something you haven't worn in a while, resting at mid thigh and no doubt giving the women something to chat about in hushed voices. 

You glance at him with a little smile, before continuing your painstaking process of relighting each candle. 

“I'm alright. The lord gives, and like natural order, the lord takes.”

He blinks.

“That's right.”

“What do you think about the Devil?” You ask suddenly, not looking up, simply tilting your head to continue your work.

“What do you mean?” He pries.

“Is he evil? Or is he just the way God made him?”

“He's both.” Billy answers.

You smile, and finally turn to look at him. 

“Do you think God loves him?” 

“Doesn't the Bible say God loves all his creations?” 

You smile wider, nodding. For once, Billy feels like he doesn't have the upper hand in a conversation. 

“Are you worried about eternal damnation?” Billy asks, taking a step closer, ready to reassure you that someone as sweet as you couldn't possibly end up in Hell. If you were damned, well that didn't bode well for him.

“I'm not afraid of Hell, I can handle fire.”

Billy watches you raise a hand, and hold it closely over one of the candles. He hisses, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away.

He turns your palm to check for any serious burns, but he'd withdrawn your hand just in time.

“I'm alright, Billy.” You reassure him, leaving your hand in his, and using the other to continue with your previous task.

It's the first time he realises that there is more to you than he'd initially thought. He'd seen you as a pristine painting before, something to be looked at, forbidden to touch, to love from afar. Now? You were an enigma, a puzzle whose pieces were made to be handled, to be solved by the right person.

Billy wanted to be that person.

.

“-He wants to be here with you, the lord is one with everything, he’s in everything you see, and everything you touch. You just have to close your eyes and let him in.” 

From around the corner, Billy listens to you speak, your hands holding the other woman’s, who’d stumbled into the church an hour ago, searching for someone to speak with. 

“I’m not worth the forgiveness.” The woman sobs.

Billy is ashamed to admit that the very sound of your voice turns him on. He feels sick, that listening to you speak about the lord makes him hard. If he closes his eyes, he swears you talk about God as if he’s just another person in the room, 

“He believes in you. You’re here, you found me, because that’s what he wanted. You found the strength to come in, to open yourself up to being judged just a little, and I know he appreciates that. He loves you, and I do too.”

Later, when the woman leaves, with a promise to be here on Sunday, Billy finds you, shuffling and reorganising reading materials near the altar.

“You’re good at this.” Billy murmurs.

You smile.

“I’m just doing what he commands.”

Jealousy stirs in Billy’s chest.

Before he can stop himself, he’s stepping into your space, you look up at him with wide eyes, as you try to back away.

“You’re so selfless, don’t you know what people say about you?”

You blink in surprise, your body lowering as you descend the stairs, away from the altar and toward the pews.

“It- why should it matter what people say?”

“They call you a temptress, you’re the reason Wade’s burning in Hell. I heard his wife say it herself.”

“That’s not my fault.” You defend.

“It’s not? You’re telling me you have no idea of the effect you have on men?”

You go down another step, he follows.

“I- I don’t- I’m not-”

He feels so large, looming over you, frightening you.

“You don’t?”

“I only want to serve.” You whisper.

“Who?” Billy taunts.

“What?”

“Who do you serve?”

“The Lord.” 

The back of your legs bump the wooden pew. Billy watches you gasp. 

“And what if I wanted you to serve me?”

He doesn’t let your confused expression last for too long.

Billy acts fast, sitting on the pew, and gripping your hips to drag you onto his lap. He guides your legs over his, spreads his thighs so that you’re forced open too.

You suck in a deep breath, head falling back onto his shoulder. You look up at him, mouth parted, eyebrows drawn together.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your body still on top of his own, he realises that you’re not fighting him like he was worried you would.

He shushes you, gently presses the tips of his fingers right above your knees, takes his time dragging them up.

You reach for his hands, covering them, unsure if you should stop him or not.

“I’m giving you what God can’t.” He simply says, looking up at the altar before them, listening for anyone walking in as he brings a veined hand up to cup your mound.

You let out a little whine, fingers gripping his wrist, unable to pry his hand away.

“This is wrong.” You whisper, tugging at his wrist.

“I’ll make you feel right in a minute.” He answers, moving slowly to push his hands into your panties.

This is what your cunt feels like, is his first thought. Billy bites down on his bottom lip, his fingers feeling over your pussy, exploring, learning, and when he finally dips his hands lower to find you wet, he can’t help chuckling to himself.

The wrongness of your situation turns you on, and Billy uses it like fuel, lights a fire so readily, eager to watch everything burn.

“This is all an act, isn’t it?” He jabs, “You pretend to be so pure but that little cunt is dripping on my fingers.” You shake your head in protest.

He’s gentle when he finally touches your clit.

You gasp, let out a strained moan, trying to fight a losing battle with your body.

He circles his fingers on your little bud, pulls your legs open wider when you try to shut them. He’s slow, he’s careful, he feels you tremble, feels your breaths get faster. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already.” He chides, “I’ve only just started.”

A soft cry is your only response.

When the sun is at the right angle, it shines through the stained glass and paints you both in multitudinous colours. He looks down at you, your face is one of mindless pleasure while the hues dance on your trembling skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs reverently, “sinning in God’s light.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, mouth parting with the start of a loud cry, he slips his free hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds of pleasure you make.

You rock on him, cunt spilling more and more onto his fingers, his mouth begs for a taste.

Your nails dig into his wrist, he welcomes the feeling, delighted to have given you something only he could give.

When he’s sure you’re going to be quiet, he slips his hand from your mouth, and after a few moments, he pulls his hand from your panties.

His fingers go right into his mouth, eyes closing in bliss at your tart taste, he licks his fingers clean, runs his tongue over them one more time to make sure he’s gotten every drop of you.

You look at him with parted lips, caught in your own amazement, coloured light still spilling onto you.

He smiles, pulling your skirt down, closing his legs which close yours.

He pauses when he feels your fingers touch his chin, he looks at you in surprise to find something calm in them. You part your lips, like you’re about to say something, and then you startle when the doors to the church are pushed open.

You slip off his lap, rising to a stand, you smile, welcoming the people coming in.

.

Billy is waiting in the confessional booth for you to pass by. You’d been so exhausted recently, trying to help the newest preacher get settled, and then someone else had been murdered. A woman working at the bank had been stabbed repeatedly in the face inside the bank vault. Her body had been found on a pile of money. 

It was odd, Billy thought he was the only one of his kind in town, to know there was another out there, made him want to look out for you more than ever.

This, was not him looking out for you.

Rather, he was waiting to pull you away, to be your distraction from another funeral, to save you, if he so dared call it that.

He hears footsteps, identifies you from the click of your familiar shoes on the church floors.

He hears the large wooden doors at the front open to allow the coffin in, and while everyone looks in the direction of the doors, he slips out, wraps his hand around your mouth, and pulls you, struggling into the confessional.

You stop fighting when you see him, and he smiles, bolting the doors closed from the inside. 

He looms over you, cock hardening in his pants, presses a finger to his lips with a smile.

Your mouth parts, curious about him, and when he presses you back, settling your body onto the wooden bench, you don’t have much choice but to obey.

He watches you, fire in his veins. You look up at him with the sweetest eyes, and he knows he’s ready to defile you right here.

Instead, as the funeral begins, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties down your legs so that he can worship you with his tongue.

He keeps you right on edge for the entire sermon, licking you slowly, your hands in his hair, your breathing deep and low to avoid attracting attention.

He edges you, echoes the prayers being said outside into your heated core, licks at your sweet bundle of nerves, doesn’t stop for a single second.

When the congregation takes up a gospel in praise, he waits till the voices are at their highest point to let your orgasm take you.

He tastes you greedily, thankful to have ever crossed your path.

He closes his eyes, decidedly not done with you, peeling at your virtue until nothing remains.

.

He takes you home that night, helps your exhausted form like he did before, hands gripping your waist to support your fumbling steps.

“You need to stop expending all your energy like this.” He chastises, lips in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“I’m fine, I just need to sleep.” You protest.

He guides your key into your door.

“Will you stay again?” You ask hopefully.

“If you want me to. But if someone sees me leaving-”

“I know, they’ll have reason to call me a whore.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” His voice is maybe too sharp with you.

You let out a little laugh.

“Right. Sorry.”

He gets you up the stairs, feels you take a deep breath as you yawn.

“Help me get out of this dress?”

God, you really were tempting him.

He watches you fall back onto the bed, clad in only your underwear. He finds it impossible to look away, when your body looks so divine. 

He gulps, wants to kiss every exposed inch, wants to make you see heaven any way that he can.

You watch him while he watches you, he’s transfixed by you.

“You want to touch me, don’t you?”

He curls his hands into fists.

“I always want to touch you.”

You give him a sleepy grin, arching your back, reaching behind to unclasp your bra.

“Can you bring me a dress from my closet?” You ask softly, and he stiffens to obey.

He pulls the door open, searching through the delicate things suspended from hangers for something for you to sleep in. He finds a sheer dress, smiles as he pulls it from the closet, he glances back at you to find you already asleep, your breasts exposed to the cold air.

He smiles, turns back to close the door, pauses when something shiny catches his eye.

It’s behind the wooden walls of your closet, shining through the slats. Billy’s eyebrows draw together, leaning in to press against the spot, the entire panel of wood shifts, and he realises that the closet has a false back.

He tosses your dress over his shoulder, reaching for either side of the wood, he presses down gently, and the entire thing shifts upward, allowing a space for his fingers to fit in.

He pulls, the piece of wood is heavier than expected, turns, and tucks it against one side of the closet.

What he finds… washes his mind blank of any rational thought.

It’s an altar, but it’s not for God.

There’s an inverted pentagram painted onto the wall in something that Billy, with his years of experience in the matter, knows to be dried blood. On the pentagram, there are photos pinned, polaroids of him that he’d never seen you take, taped to your wall with little hearts scribbled on. There’s other things as well, the dog tags from his bedside drawer, the pocket square he’d thought he’d misplaced after Wade’s funeral. So many little items of his, in this space, and he realises that he has no idea who you are at all.

On the floor, is the pink cardigan soaked in Wade’s blood, half burned from where he’d tossed it into a quick fire in the woods behind the church. Billy kneels, fingers brushing the handle of a knife with a blade embellished with flowers, stained with blood. The skull of a goat, surrounded by black and red candles.

He knows he should be feeling fear, but there’s no ounce of it anywhere in his body. He licks his lips, plucking a photo of himself from the wall, he feels his lips curl up involuntarily.

He stands, turns to wake you, to confront you, and halts when he finds you already behind him.

You look sleepy still, swaying on your feet, body still bare, and before he can say anything, you raise a fist, and blow a strange powder directly into his face.

It stings when it touches his eyes. He groans, drops the photo of himself he was holding, presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and stumbles. His throat tickles, he coughs, body trying to expel whatever you’ve dosed him with. He can’t see, and he reaches for where he knew you were last, only to find formless air.

He tries not to panic, if you wanted to actually hurt him, you would have by now. Perhaps you just didn’t know what his reaction was going to be and you were safeguarding yourself.

He feels the handcuff wrap around his wrist, but he fights it, his eyes sting too much for rational thought.

“I’ll help you if you cooperate.” He hears you say.

He huffs out a breath, extending his cuffed arm for your guidance.

You pull at him, bringing him to your bed, and cuffing both his arms to the frame. His eyes sting when he tries to see through them, his face burns too, like it’s on fire.

The next thing he feels is a cold cloth on his face, and then there’s instant relief. 

You place a damp rag over his eyes, and on the lower half of his face, leaving his nose exposed for him to breathe.

“Let it sit for a little, it needs to neutralise the poison.”

Poison? He thinks in shock.

He tries to calm himself, tries to tug on his restraints as little as possible. He tries to run through everything he’d learned in the past few minutes, sort them into his head, solve puzzles he didn’t even know existed.

You were entirely not who he thought you were, not even a little, not even at all.

No, not true, he’d seen it, glimpses of the real you from the very start, too pure, he’d thought, too pure that there must be something wrong.

He should have seen it from the minute you took his hand, from the minute you sat on his lap, when you felt his erection and still flocked to him. Billy should have known. It was in the way you thrived under the attention, the memory of you holding your fingers over the candles in the church. He’d seen it all, and had been unable to put the pieces together.

He hears movement, feels the bed dip as you come closer to him, feels your weight settle on his hips, straddling him.

The rags are pulled from his face, and you use the edge to wipe the remnants of something he can’t see.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but it was this or hitting you over the head with a bat.” You smile down at him, he can still see you there.

You don’t look like a new person, you only look more relaxed in his presence, his eyes drop down to find you wearing the dress he’s picked before he’d discovered your secrets.

“You don’t worship God.” He starts.

You smile.

“No I don’t.”

“But you go to church, you help other people find God.”

“You think that saves them? No one in that church is free of sin, no one is made better by being there, they’re only better at hiding it.”

He blinks, tilts his head, waits for you to continue.

You reach for a box of matches, striking one, you light the candle sitting on your bedside table.

“I go to church, because every time I step in there, I spite God.”

He watches you reach to strike another match, lighting the candle on the other side of the bed.

“My Lord, the only one I pray to, is the Devil himself.”

Billy blinks, tilts his head.

“You tempt everyone there with your innocence on purpose.” He says, thinking out loud.

You make a sound of disagreement.

“Not exactly, I’m just charismatic, and the fruits fall where they fall. My intention isn’t to tempt, it’s not my fault that men are so easily… tempted.”

He raises his eyebrows in amazement at your point.

“Look at Wade for example, I was only as nice to him as I was with everyone else, but he took it another way, I’d finally decided to kill him when he touched my thigh for too long… I was watching him from a small space in the roof when you came in.”

Billy watches, hypnotised as you drag your palm over your stomach, your ass grinding gently against his semi-erect cock.

“I watched you stand behind him, waiting for the right moment.” You whisper, hand slipping under your sheer dress, working its way down the front of your panties. Billy’s teeth clench, pulling at the handcuffs.

“I watched you cut his throat,” You groan, “There was blood everywhere.” Your head tilts back as he watches you touch yourself to the memory of his past crimes.

“You took my cardigan. I knew there was something about you before, but it was only then that I knew I had to have you.”

He watches you, fingers hidden from his view as you pleasure your little cunt. He feels rage at not having any control.

“The woman in the bank,” Billy tries to think with you so close, “That was you.”

You nod, smiling down at him. 

“She was a bad person. I wanted to give Satan someone to play with. Just like he gave me you.”

Billy’s hands are in fists, blunt nails pressed to his palm.

“Let me go.” He grits out.

You smile dreamily, shake your head.

“Not yet. I want to have you first.” 

His breath halts in his chest, desperate to ask you what you mean, but he thinks your intention is clear enough.

He pulls harder on his restraints, not wanting to be bound the first time he feels you.

“Don't fight it, Billy. Let me have you how I want, and then, maybe we'll see about those cuffs.”

He stops struggling, takes a deep breath, goes still.

You smile, undoing his belt as quickly as you can, and then tugging at the buttons of his shirt until his torso is bared to you. 

He listens to you hum with delight, feels your scorching tongue lave at his chest, over his heart, flicking at his nipple.

He begins to understand how feral you are, listening to your hums of appreciation as your tongue drifts over his neck. He realises, that you’re just a small thing, searching for someone exactly like you in a world full of people pretending.

When you open his pants, his mouth goes dry, his jaw drops open as you suck on the tip of his cock for just a small moment, enjoying the taste of him before you’re slipping your panties to the side to take him in.

Billy closes his eyes, swears, low in his throat. You feel better than he’d imagined, your walls fluttering around him, pulling his cock deeper into you so naturally that he swears it was always meant to happen.

You moan loudly, head tossed back.

“I would have let you fuck me in that church.” You confess, “I would have let you fuck me in a pool of Wade’s blood.”

Billy groans.

“I’d fuck you in the bare earth.” He grunts, supporting your conversation, “I’d make you beg me to.”

You clench tightly around him, and Billy swears he sees stars for a moment. Your breasts bounce as you roll your hips on him, and after a moment, you pause, reaching for one of those lit candles beside your bed.

Billy looks at you, keeping your steady gaze, trying to prepare himself for the possibility that you might drop hot wax onto his skin.

But you spare him, instead, you tilt the candle, letting a few drops of molten wax fall onto your thigh.

He feels you tighten, grunts in pleasure at the vigour your pace takes on.

He’s so captivated by your enjoyment of it, that he can’t help but ask.

“Do it to me.” He asks.

You smile, hovering the candle over his chest, and when the first drop hits, he gasps. It stings, burns like fire, but then something sweet fills the space, his body somehow asking for more.

You don’t give him any more though, placing the candle back in its original spot, and beginning to rock your hips in tandem.

You’re struggling to achieve orgasm in this position, and he feels amusement rise within him, knowing more about your own body than you seem to know.

It finally makes him relax, knows that no matter how hard you try, you still need him to get you off.

He waits, and waits, and finds that he can be patient when it comes to pleasuring your cunt.

You pause, pouting.

“Poor little girl,” Billy chides, “Can’t manage to come on her own. You need my help, don’t you?”

Your eyebrows are drawn together When you look down at him, trying to make sense of his words.

“N-no, I can, uh, do it myself.”

He grins sharply, relaxes.

“You’re so out of your depth.” He taunts.

“Nuh uh.” You hum, still trying to use his cock to pleasure yourself. Billy turns his head to study his restraints, the wooden pillar he's cuffed to on the headboard is wobbly, he figures one sharp pull at just the right angle would get that hand loose. The other pillar however, is too sturdy for a move like that.

He has to move fast when he does it, find a way to get you to release his other hand.

But first, a distraction.

“You're beautiful like this,” he says truthfully, “Your true self is so much more than I'd imagined and- well maybe we are right for each other.”

He watches you nod eagerly, still trying to reach your peak, your head tilts back, lulled into a false sense of security.

Billy takes his opportunity to strike.

He pulls as hard as he can on the wooden pillar of the headboard, muscles flexing almost painfully. He almost thinks he's going to fail but right at the last second, the wood gives, freeing the handcuff and allowing movement.

Your eyes fly open, and you reach for something behind you, pulling out a knife.

He catches your hand, twists your wrist so that the knife falls free, and pushes it off the bed.

Before you can scramble off of him, his hand grips your hair harshly.

“Unlock me.” He hisses into your terrified face.

Despite your obvious fear, he still feels you clench around his cock, and his desperation to have you exactly how he wants, increases.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” He clarifies, “But you're mine now, so unlock me.”

Your eyelids flutter, your eyes glancing at a spot beside him. He doesn't turn to look, simply leaning his body with yours, hand still fisted no doubt painfully in your hair.

He looks from the corner of his eye, as you tug the bedside drawer open and stick your hand in.

 “You better not be reaching for another knife. It wouldn't take much for me to squeeze the life out of you, even with one hand tied.”

He feels you clench around him again.

“You like that? That I could kill you without a second thought? Your cunt’s gripping me so tight, baby.”

You let out a little whine, withdrawing with just a metal key pressed between your fingers.

“Good girl,” Billy praises, feels even that go right to your cunt, “Now unlock me.”

You do his bound hand first, and then pull the other cuff from around his wrist. Your eyes cling to the reddening bruise on his wrist from pulling too hard.

When he's finally free, he grins, right in your face, before pulling you off his cock and flipping you over.

You gasp in surprise as your back hits the bed, Billy leans away to get a good look at you.

He can see your delectably shaped tits through the white sheer dress, he admires the way it looks- like innocence and somehow pure sin wrapped all in one. 

He thinks, for the first time, he finally sees you, finally understands what he has, looking up at him with careful eyes. 

“You said something earlier. That the Devil sent me here for you,” he leans forward, cups your breasts through the dress, stiffening your nipples, watches you writhe beautifully under him.

“But I'm not your plaything, little girl,” His fingers pinch down, pressing your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, watching you gasp in pain and pleasure, “You're mine.”

It sets off something inside of him, and like an avalanche, any semblance of self control he'd ever had, just crumbles.

He leans down, lips pressed to yours, he feels an ache inside of him lessen.

You kiss back, with forceful lips, your hands gripping the back of his head, fingers in his hair to stop him from pulling away.

His hands press against your shoulders, feeling their way over the sheer sleeves of the material, gripping your hips, fingers catching on the fabric as he touches your body for the very first time.

Your legs wrap around him, it makes him so delighted, that you want him, that he's going to use that against you.

He pulls back, grinning when you whine, reach for his mouth once more, his hand finding your throat too easily, gripping it to push you back.

“Where did my little fighter go, hmm?” He leans forward to lick your cheek, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

“Please,” you whisper, “I need you to make me come.”

His nose brushes yours.

“Why? Don't you touch yourself all the time?” He taunts, already knowing your responses before you say them.

“I haven't been able to- since you touched me.”

He laughs, watches you get more and more demure with each moment.

“You haven't been able to come since I put my hands on you? I wonder why?”

“You feel too good.” You confess to him.

He tries to fight it but it makes him laugh again, he buries his face into your neck, amusement so heavy in his body and he has to let it out.

“Sorry, It’s just that- you haven't even seen what I can really do yet.”

“Show me.” You beg.

His hands caress you gently, he nods his head, and then, tears your dress into pieces.

You’re so turned on, aching for him, you shudder as he pulls the remnants of your dress from your skin.

His touch is frantic, his palms skate over your skin, gripping, feeling, your thighs, your legs, your arms, it makes you so much more aroused to be felt like this. No part of your body is safe from his wandering hands, it feels as though he’s trying to learn you, and you are so eager to let him.

His lips are next, kissing the top of your breast, working his way between them, the feel of his lips on your skin makes you feel more connected to him than before. He pulls your panties off in a swift rush, kissing at your knees when he finally gets them off.

“Want to know why my touch feels good? Because I know you. I know what your body likes.” Billy says, you lift your head to look at him, his hand sliding up between your thighs, the tips of his fingers making delicious sparks.

He touches your slit, tracing the seam of your cunt so gently, desperation pooling under your skin. He presses a single finger against you, until he just brushes your clit with the very tip of his finger.

“You need this little bundle here touched, kissed, and it can’t be too harsh.”

You cry out when he just softly strokes your clit. Pleasure burning through you at just the simplest move.

“You think that just because you like pain, that this has to be rough too, but no, your pretty body craves a soft touch.”

He proves it to you, his gentle fingers massage your clit, he makes it look effortless, eyes drawn to your centre, looking up at you with dark eyes every now and then.

It’s the burn of his slow movements that make you lose your mind. The worst part is that he’s right, you’ve never touched yourself so gently before.

“Does that feel good, baby? I’ve killed so many people with these same hands. But I bet that makes your little cunt even wetter.”

You mewl, nodding, remembering the way you’d seen Billy kill. The amount of blood he’d left behind, such a messy crime scene.

You bite down on your bottom lip, back arching, hands gripping your sheets.

Just a little bit more, you think, gasping, quietly urging him on, hoping that he doesn’t stop his movements.

“That’s it,” Billy praises, “Just like that, show me exactly who owns you.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, your vision goes white as pure euphoria overtakes you. It comes in waves, cunt fluttering around nothing, your body shudders as your brain tries to process pleasure beyond your comprehension.

It takes you a moment before you can breathe through it, and like before, it feels like you’re floating, somewhere deep in your subconscious.

His face comes into your line of sight, a proud smile on His lips, beautiful in every way as He hovers above you.

You suck in another breath, it helps you feel your body, and the remnants of your still occurring orgasm.

“The first time I saw you, I couldn’t look away. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. I wanted you all to myself. Now that I have you here, now that I see you, I want you forever.”

You nod eagerly, smiling up at him, gripping his hand to press your cheek into his palm. You wanted that, you wanted to be His as well.

“Now be a good girl and stay still.” He whispers, lowering his body once more, burying his face between your thighs for the second time in your life.

You almost want to scream. His tongue pushes its way to your clit, flicking softly, dipping down to lick at your entrance.

You hear Him moan between your thighs, you shudder, arching your hips into his face.

He slaps your thigh, a warning that he intends to uphold the discipline of His instruction, you simply clench in response.

You wanted- so much more than you could admit.

You'd thought, for a brief moment, that he was the personification of Lucifer himself, that Billy was a reward for your years of devotion, but somewhere in the back of your head, you were starting to feel something different, new, that not even your devotion to Satan himself could match.

He licks you like he's starving for it, hands on your thighs, tongue in your cunt you want to struggle just so He has a reason to hold you down.

You say His name, you feel your thighs tremble, His lips kiss at your swollen clit.

You don't know what you're feeling, something in your chest, that tugs everytime he touches you.

Drunk on His mouth, you hiss when his pace increases, unsure if you'll even be able to have another orgasm so close to the last.

He's careful, dexterous, precise, he licks cunt the way he kills- with careless precision, a spectacle to be admired, spoken about in hushed tones. 

Billy doesn't ask, he simply manipulates your body until you're wound so tightly on edge once again, unable to comprehend how you got here in the first place.

You groan, your grip on sanity crumbles away, all you can think about is Him, and the way his beard feels, scratching between your thighs, and the darkness of his hair and the grip of his fingers on you, holding you to him, daring you to struggle. 

There’s a loud rushing in your head when your next peak finds you, your back bowing off the bed once more, something pinches in protest but you can’t focus on it, the pleasure too important to give up just because you’re a little uncomfortable. 

He licks at the arousal spilling from you, moans into your body with each taste, making you see stars, or fireworks or maybe even just flashes of bright lights and colours. 

It somehow reminds you of the stained glass of the church, makes you feel adjacent to something that’s on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find the right words for it.

He draws back, beard wet with your slick arousal. It’s gorgeous, and you watch him tug his black shirt off- that he’d worn to the funeral of the woman you’d killed- and use it to dab at his chin.

Your eyes roam down his body, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man as sculpted as he is, lean and muscular, small bits of hair on his chest and a spot right below his navel that your tongue aches for.

You sit up, looking at him, pressing your thighs together as he pushes his pants all the way down his legs, his cock already solid and leaking for you.

You remember the first time you felt Him, the way you knew without a doubt that you were going to have him, before you even fully understood what he was.

He reaches for you, grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You gasp at his easy display of strength, watching as he strokes himself for a few moments before lining his cock up with your dripping entrance.

Your past orgasms have made you more sensitive, each inch of him he presses in makes you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure and the stretch associated.

“You're so tight.” He utters with a strained voice.

You can only moan, reach to touch Him, the light of the candles flickering on his bare skin in the dead of night.

Your fingers graze a circular scar on his lower abdomen, and at the same time, he thrusts the rest of his cock fully into you.

You cry out, the sudden bliss of being stretched, goes right into your head, you gasp, your body begs for more, begs to be undone by him.

You swear you can taste blood in your mouth from biting down on your bottom lip too much, unable to vocalise your appreciation of him, he draws his cock out, before making another harsh thrust.

Your back arches, you don’t feel like you’re in your body, or maybe you feel too much in your body, the only thing you know for sure is the pleasure that fills you, that threatens to swell under your skin and explode outward.

He keeps his motions swift, harsh, deep, following through with each shift of his hips fully before beginning another.

“Who’s your God? Tell me.”

“L-Lucifer.” You utter automatically, but it’s the wrong thing to say. He stops, hands gripping your jaw tightly, bringing all your focus to him.

“What was that?” He grits out.

“Lucifer?” You whisper, voice light with pleasure.

He shakes his head, leaning away and reaching for something nearby.

You tighten around him when you spot the burning candle in his hand.

“Say that again.” 

“Um…” You stutter, unsure of what to say.

You gasp in surprise when the first drop of hot wax hits your hip. It stings, just for a moment, before leaving the sweetest tingle in its place.

“Please.” You moan, pressing your hips upward for more of his torment.

“Can Satan do that?” He asks, rutting his cock into you at a slow shallow pace. When you don’t respond, you feel another heated droplet sting the skin of your hip.

You peek at him through parted eyelids, watching the way he looks at you in amusement, before tilting the candle again, this time to allow hot wax to fall onto the opposite side.

“Billy.” You moan, and you watch him grin.

“Answer my question, little dove.”

You shake your head.

“N-no. Satan can’t make me feel like this.” You whisper.

He moves, drips wax onto your thigh, making you gasp in pain, feeling it heighten your euphoria.

“Do you like feeling this way?” He asks, and before he can finish his sentence, you’re nodding, raising your hand to your chest to roll your nipples between your fingers for his appreciation.

“I like it, Billy, I love it.”

“Then tell me who your God is.” 

You think you finally understand what he's trying to say, his cock pressed deep inside of you. He's the reason you feel so good, he's been the person occupying most of your thoughts from the day you met. He's someone you'd be willing to kill for.

“You.” You finally answer, and he smiles, moves his hand, still holding the candle, wax dripping onto his fingers, he tilts the candle and lets a few heated droplets touch the skin over your womb.

You gasp, the skin there is a little more sensitive, the burn is more intense, more pain than pleasure but He doesn’t seem to care, simply continues to smile as he blows the candle out, putting it back on your nightstand.

There's still another candle on the other side, allowing you to see, though everything is just a little dimmer now.

Your skin tingles, warm, the dried wax on your skin cracks as you move, but you don't get a chance to focus on it too much, because as soon as Billy lets go of the candle, he's pressing into you with renewed vigour.

Your thighs tremble, tears pool in your eyes, He's rough, grunting with each stroke he makes, earning a reciprocated cry when his cock bottoms out inside of you each time.

Skin against skin, sweat glistens on his chest, you want to taste him.

“Say it again.” He commands, leaning over you to brush his lips to your ear, “Who do you worship?”

“You, Billy.” You respond eagerly, gripping his shoulders, pressing your nails in, listening to him hiss in response, gripping your jaw to bring you into a bruising kiss.

It's messy, his tongue dipping forcefully into your mouth like he owns you, his cock doing the same, taking everything as if it's owed.

You bite down on his bottom lip, hears him grunt out a manic laugh in response.

“You're all fucking mine.” He grits, leaning back and pulling your boneless body up until you're on top of him, his hands gripping your hips to keep you moving on his cock. You tuck your head into his neck, unable to be anything more than a receptacle, to take Him, over and over until he's finished with you.

“How does it feel to be saved by your new God?” He grunts between thrusts.

You can barely find the words to speak.

His hand slaps the flesh of your ass hard, demanding a response.

Cruel, you think, that He wants you to speak, that He thinks you're even capable of thought.

“Feels good.” You hum, fingers gripping his neck, nose to his jaw, taking what he gives, you tears dripping onto his collarbone.

He groans into your ear, it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard and you finally begin to understand true devotion.

“Please,” You beg, “Please.”

He grunts out a chuckle between thrusts.

“You don’t have to beg, I’m here, I’m not leaving.”

You tilt your head up, vision hazy, your body tingling with something too intense to be just bliss.

He kisses you softly one more time before dropping you back onto the bed, pushing your knees upward so that they’re almost to your ears.

He feels so much deeper this time, fucking you hard, merciless thrusts that has your cunt fluttering again, warning you that you’re on the right path to an orgasm.

He doesn’t stop, looking right into your eyes as he pushes his cock into you, over and over and over. You see stars, you see him, you see nothing else.

He licks his thumb, lips wet with saliva, he slips it between your bodies, angles it right against your clit, swipes gently from left to right.

You make a loud sound, followed by a flurry of pitiful whines, trying to warn him, to implore him. He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Your toes curl, one small breath of air before the most intense rush of ecstasy takes root in your body. You’re lost in the rapture, taken by the experience to even register the sounds you make.

You feel fire, you feel sparks, tingles that rush all over your skin, your inner walls gripping him so tightly as you’re forced to experience bliss at His hands.

He groans loudly, and before you know it he’s fucking into you rougher than before only for a moment before he makes a sharp sound of relief, cock pulsing as he spills himself into you.

You clench around him, making sure he gives you every drop of himself. Knowing that this is the right way to show your devotion.

There’s a moment of insecurity, when he crashes to the bed beside you, eyes closed, his breathing is quick, as if he’s just run for miles. You worry that once he’s had his fill of you, that he won’t be interested any more.

Your head is turned to look at him, lungs still heaving, the bliss of your orgasm hasn’t left you completely yet, and you watch him, curious to observe what he does next.

He peeks an eye open, mouth pulling into a smile that bares his teeth, he pushes himself up, crawls closer till he’s in the space between your body and arm, kissing at your cheek and shoulders softly.

It opens something inside of you, to feel that, to know without a doubt that He meant every word He said.

You raise your hand in wonder, fingers gently brushing His cheek, before pressing your palm to His face. 

He looks down at you, moves his own hand to run the backs of his fingers against your face, two people, finally seeing each other, finally showing themselves, unafraid.

It’s more than you could have ever hoped for.

.

Billy stands in the shadows, waiting.

He watches his targets leave the bar, two men, laughing with each other as they head to the nearby bus stop.

He follows, observing the way they move, trying to figure out just exactly how drunk they are. One wears a leather jacket, with his hair slicked back, the other wears a plain white t-shirt, and jeans.

They talk loudly, confessing to things Billy already knows about.

When one of them looks up, and sharply elbows the other, nodding to a place ahead, Billy knows what they see.

You lean against the bus stop, face buried in your phone, too occupied with it to notice that you’ve been spotted.

You’re beautiful, Billy muses, white dress, denim jacket, a little purse hanging from your elbow, standing under a small streetlight. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 

The man in the leather jacket gets to you first, looking over your shoulder, peering into your phone looking at what you’re doing for a moment before saying something to you.

He watches you startle, look up at both men as they approach.

It’s like a dance, the way your fright gives them confidence, the manner in which you step back, warning them that you’re going to run before you actually do.

He smiles as you slip from their reaching grip, running into the nearest alley, he watches them take chase.

He moves faster, making sure there’s no chance of putting you in any real danger.

When he gets there, they’ve got you cornered, your back against a wall with them closing in. They’re too focused on you to ever notice him.

He takes a breath, waits for a moment, enjoys the thrill of what he’s about to feel.

When one of the men reaches to put his grimy hands on you, Billy strikes.

The man in the leather jacket makes a gurgling sound as his throat is cut wide open, splashing mostly on himself, but some of it gets on your dress and he knows he’ll get on his knees later to apologise for getting your dress messy, even though he knows you like it.

The other man can only make a single sound of terror before he’s falling to the floor, mouth agape as the handle of a knife protrudes from his eye.

He’s still alive, though not for long as Billy watches you drop to one knee, pulling the knife from his skull to plunge it into his vocal cords next. 

You look up at him, with bright eyes, excited to be doing this with him. He bites down on his bottom lip, thinks you look adorable when you’re seeking his approval.

He doesn’t care if the men are in their last moments, he reaches for you, grips the collar of your jacket and hauls you up, manoeuvring you until your back is pressed against the wall of the alley.

He drops his head, angles to place a fierce kiss on your lips, smearing blood on your face when he grips your jaw.

Billy pulls away, breathless, heart hammering with the thrill of murder, he looks into your eyes, and finds himself looking back.

He’s not surprised- simply acknowledging to himself that it’s what he’s been seeing the entire time, what he couldn’t put a name to when you first met, he now knows.

.

“And the lord said ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me.’” 

It makes you look up, to meet Billy’s eyes.

You watch the corner of His mouth twitch in amusement.

.

[xaviers-student-union]

Hey guys it's that time of the month

That's right, the time of the month where I take my dad's credit card and buy you guys whatever you ask for. [ so long as its not illegal.]

As usual:

- The money isn't traceable by my father

- This won't have legal ramifications, it's money he gave to me

- He's an Anti-Mutant Billionare running for a political office or some shit. So every month everyone in the X-mansion, and anyone else who sees this, can place orders from me. I like wasting his money.

- For every dollar I spend, I match it and donate to a Mutant positive charity.

So far:

- Aranza: New paint supplies, an easel, and other tools [ she didn't ask but I'm doing it anyway] and Hedgehog care supplies

- Deanne: New jewellery, medical textbooks, sports equipment, and a new laptop

- Molly: New fairytale books, 150 Jellycats, Club room materials, a megaphone, winter clothes, Halloween decorations, a clipboard, Polaroid camera, and an inflatable hamster ball.

She also requested silly string but I have veto'ed that.

- Megan: new book bag, stationary, sanrio "stuff", wing warmers

- Sativa: Beads, wing warmers, new dresses, accessories

- Reaper- Skateboard and cat toys

- Nod - Office decor, $100 donation

- Pyxis - New mountain bike, New winter coat, $50 donation

- Scott- Wood carving supplies, 50 cases of waterbottles, and top of the line New kitchen utensils.

- Mihai - Ps5, and a new laptop

- Kurt - Repair the trapeze. While I'm at it I'm going to get new equipment for the gymnasium in general.

- Rogue - Cat toys [ according to Google that's the best thing for a gator] and new romance novels.

- Negasonic Teenage Warhead : 2x giant 12 ft tall skeletons, costumes for the skeletons , a giant kuromi plush

- Yukio: several pieces of limitied sanrio merch, giant hello kitty plush.

- Eel: Luxury Yacht + hoverboard wheelchair

- Logan - New motorcycle + a helmet. Get fucked logan.

- Forget-me-not - New baking supplies, and equipment.

Lina- New bass strings, and a donation of 100k [ she didn't ask for this but I decided I wanted to donate extra in her name]

Emma - New lipstick in her favourite shade

- laurya- a bunch of cool rocks [ @goddess-of-birds ]

Phantom - Broadway year pass, compression gloves [ @phantom-x ]

Valentine - Designer outfitt [ @valentine-vuong ]

Vanessa - 50 sets of winter clothes for kids, and a large donation to the chosen charity.

Tagging relevant people [ let me know if you don't want to be tagged]

@jeangrey-xmen

@roguefromthexmen

@remy-lebeau

@wolverineofficial

@deadpoolsmeanestally

@dead-in-the-pool

@professorcharlesx

@scottsummers-xmen

@hankmccoyhere

@reapers-graveyard

@totally-not-a-mutant

@vanessa-howlett

@pyxis-deliveryservices

@a-trip-and-a-fall

@thebesttelepath

@forgotten-x-men

@just-a-mutant

@prettyplasma8

@blue-man-group-reject

@queenofthetempest

There's...so many people to tag so I'm going to stop here. If I missed you it wasn't intentional.. - J.🕯

[ no limit on price as long as its reasonable]

[augdawg888]

the office characters as teachers!

in honor of teacher appreciation week!

(and also my math teacher was flirting with some other teacher and my brain immediately went to jim and pam)

enjoy!

the staff:

michael scott: the principal

dwight schrute: gym teacher & vice principal

jim halpert: also a gym teacher

pam beesley: art teacher

holly flax: counselor

oscar martinez: personal finance teacher

angela martin: math teacher

phyllis lapin-vance: language teacher

kelly kapoor: fashion / interior design teacher

andy bernard: music teacher

& creed bratton: janitor

(other characters are mentioned, but i didn't have enough to say about them)

general headcanons:

michael scott: mr. scott

super laid back and chill

he never gets people in trouble

'yk, when i was your age, i did that all the time'

stops in classes just to distract people

assemblies all the time !!!

theyre always super fun though, lots of games !!

he's always recognizing the teachers for their hard work

he has a lil bulletin board (that pam designed) for spotlight moments

hangs out in the art room with pam a lot

'pamcasso' 'pamanardo dibeesley'

his office is littered with toys, pictures of holly, and pictures with his kids

he also brings his kids to work every so often

when he visits the gymnasium he always tries to impress the students

dwight schrute: mr. schrute

takes being vice principal way too seriously

also takes being a gym teacher way too seriously

he and jim participate in all the games and activities

but dwight is always trying to one up some high schooler

loves dodgeball.

he tries to 1v1 jim in basketball (and he fails miserably)

he instructs a health course once a year and jim always has to cut it short

he's the best hype man though

feeling insecure in gym class ? dwight is def hyping you up

not like a quiet, off to the side pep talk, like whooping and yelling

'let's go !! you guys are doing fantastic'

he also gets to do a karate course during the school year

has an agriculture club after school

jim halpert: coach jim

chillest gym teacher ever

unlike dwight, he does the quiet off to the side pep talks

its all very appreciated and sweet

he's looking out for all of the students

and they all have a crush on him too (who wouldnt????)

he's always goofing around and trying to have fun

he's the basketball coach too !!!

always going to the art room for any reason

he needs pam to design some flyers for friday's game, or his pen ran out of ink (he uses a laptop)

he's always pranking dwight

the pictures of the pranks always get put in the yearbook too (it's like a special section)

pam beesley: ms. beesley / ms. pam

shes so sweet.

all of her lessons are really well thought out and passionate

she loves teaching about claude monet and impressionism

shes doing art with the kids too

michael is always taking her finished pieces to hang up somewhere

shes also a volleyball coach !!! so shes constantly going to the gymnasium to make sure theres enough equipment or to check on the players in gym class

shes really there to see jim (but thats besides the point)

she's apart of phyllis' book club (yes phyllis has a book club)

all of her students ask if she and jim are going to date/are dating

'you guys are aware i'm engaged right?'

anytime roy visits shes always stressed afterwards

jim brings her lunch !!!

holly flax: holly / mrs. flax

shes so sweet and understanding omg

when a student needs something to fidget with she just steals a toy from michaels office

has a yoga club after school (michael is always there)

her office is so cozy and lighthearted

shes one of those teachers with memes printed out on her wall

has lots of knicknacks

knows every students name

loves loves loves helping kids pick out their schedules for the next year

shes super close with all the teachers too

very inclusive !!! she has an assembly every month for different cultures and information about different heritages

has a lot of stuffed animals in her office

and every single one of them have been named

shes also apart of phyllis' book club !

oscar martinez: mr. martinez

he takes his job super seriously and is a little strict

but everyone still loves him and respects him a lot

no matter how strict he is, he cannot stop gossiping with all the students

'okay, but did you hear about jim and pam?'

his classroom is so boring though, super bland

gets a lot of kids coming to him

super comforting teacher !

always plays music in the background

its like fucking classical music though

also in the book club !

he and pam always have a lot of gay kids in their classes

they're both just prepared for people coming out to them

angela martin: ms. martin

super strict and serious

but has her fun moments

everyone knows her cats names

she has the lil baby poster hanging up in her classroom

theres literally nothing else in there

she noticed how some teachers left out bowls of candy, so she did the same thing, but with mints

advocated for class pets, but kept getting shut down

when asked her opinion about other teachers it's usually negative, but when it comes to dwight it's always slightly positive

phyllis lapin-vance: mrs. vance

gets called mrs. vance refrigeration a lot

doesnt talk too much

always asking for help with her computer

her lessons are short and sweet

has a candle burning during class

but it's like a grandma smell

everyone loves watching her and bob

they're so sweet together !!!

she runs a small book club with teachers and students after school

loves when they all choose mystery books to read

she tries to teach different books every year

her classroom is right next to angela's and that can lead to some unpleasantness

funky sweaters !!!

kelly kapoor: kelly

hates hates hates being called ms. kapoor

it's just kelly

most of her lessons are just rants, but theyre educational !!!

loves working with everyone in her class

asks if ryan ever mentions her

wears the clothes that students make

designs merch for the school

desperately wants the schools colors to change

'theyre just so old looking !'

always so energetic in the mornings

besties with the students ofc

wants to hear ALL THE TEA

also keeps everyone updated on jim and pam

her classroom is sooooo cool too

like pink everywhere, comfy seats, and hello kitty

she loves hello kitty and i will die on this hill

andy bernard: mr. bernard

he's like the perfect music teacher

he brings instruments into class that no one has even heard of

and plays them perfectly

all the music they sing are show tunes

they watch musicals in the class when it gets slow

talks about cornell a lot

the rants about here comes treble get so old after a while

'it's funny you guys mention that song, did you know when i was in college i performed that with my acapella group?'

yes he's really trying to get an acapella group started

when students are frustrated with something he uses the same techniques he learned in anger management to calm them down

when asked if he wanted to be the golf coach he turned it down immediately

he was too busy trying to make sailing club a thing

but, he is the theater club leader (idk what theyre called)

loves directing everyone

has to kick michael out a lot

he wears funny ties !!!

creed bratton: creed

omg hes so mysterious and cool and no one knows anything about him

but also we know everything ?

he knows all the kids names

celebrates their birthdays

know one knows how he knows their birthdays though

shows up simultaneously in every class

plays guitar in andys class

tries to crash a fashion show in kellys

he was just wearing sunglasses and a blazer

plays basketball in gym class

and then he tries to convince dwight he is in fact a student

and why does it almost work ?

everyone's pretty sure he lives in the school

the lunch ladies are always complaining about food going missing and then creed will talk about how much he likes that food

he sells fake weed to the students

and fake ids

pam is still looking for her laminating machine

has an mp3 player still (its 2024 creed, get a phone)

his music is BLARING

air guitar in the hallways

everyone loves how he dresses up during spirit week

i was thinking of doing more in depth ones about spirit weeks and assemblys, but that's a lot of work lol

lmk if you want those !!

also the timeline is really random. i wanted holly to be in here and her and michael to be married, but i didn't want jim and pam to be married yet, sorry about that !

[shikuseiu]

1. The Night Before Reunion Day

Kuroo Pov:

"Kenma, you just don't understand!" I sigh as I tried to calm myself down. "Kuroo, listen! She's gonna be there so what? You're a new man!" I looked up knowing that he was right.

"Yeah you're right... I'm a new man. I'll get over her!" I smiled. "Maybe I'll find someone else to love!" I smirk.

Kenma Pov:

I know he's not gonna get over her. He won't date anyone else but her. "What are you even gonna wear to this reunion anyway?" I asked looking up.

"A suit as always! I gotta look presentable!" That bedheaded man said. "What. Presentable for her?" I sigh looking at him as he just stopped.

Kuroo Pov:

"Why should I? She probably already has a boyfriend or a... husband." I looked down regretting that I could've been with her if I confessed. "Kuroo..." Kenma says softly.

"You know what! Forget about her! Let's drink!" Lev says barging smiling. "WHERE DID YOU COME FROM!?" I yell at Lev.

"U-Uh... Nevermind that! Let's drink tonight and tomorrow we can deal whatever comes ahead!" Lev yells as Yamamoto joins in.

"So noisy..." Kenma mumble. "ACK! YAKU! That really hurts you know!" Lev said pouting as Yaku kicked him as he did when we were all in high school.

Nekoma High School Few Days Before Graduation

Kuroo Pov:

"I CAN'T RECIVE ANYMORE! Y/N-SAN HELP ME!" Lev says lying down pouting as always. Oh how she looked pretty today and everyday...

"Should I?" Y/n or I would like to say my future wife would say as I chuckle. "What's so funny, Tetsurō?" She asked me as I softly looked at her.

"Nothing." I slightly blushed. "Why did practice stop!? Everyone go back to practicing now!" The coaches voice boomed through the gymnasium.

"Yes coach!" We all said expect for my future wife of course...

Only a few days left to go before I ask her out and she will finally be my girlfriend! I smiled brightly.

On Graduation Day

Kuroo Pov:

"Kenma! How will I confess to her!?" I whisper to Kenma. "Just go with the flow! Go before she leaves!" He yells at me.

"I-I don't know actually... she's gonna reject me!" I started to get nervous. "KUROO GO!" This time Yaku joined Kenma in the yelling.

"GUYS I JUST DON'T KNOW THOUGH!" I panic. "MY FUCKING GOD KUROO SHE JUST LEFT!" Kenma yelled at me standing up.

"You had your chance and you screwed up badly." Yaku sighs. I look back to Y/n who was getting into her mother's car holding onto the red roses I gave her.

"Fuck I messed up..." I mumble sitting down. "Don't worry Kuroo. We will have a reunion day." Kai says patting my back as I start to cry.

"I FUCKING MESSED UP!" Kenma pats my back. "We all do..." He says softly. "I loved her so, so much. I just messed up.

Back To Present Time

Kuroo Pov:

"Here you go..." Fukunga says giving me a plate of food. "Thank you..." I say softly. "Mhm" He softly smiles before walking away.

"Tanaka, is one lucky man! He married Kiyoko..." Yamamoto says while drinking. "Those crows changed a lot." Shibayama says smiling.

"Nishinoya, became a traveler ain't that sweet?" Yaku says admiring Nishinoya's choice. "Sugawara, became a teacher! He was basically the team mom so makes sense like Yaku!" Lev blurts out.

"Daichi, became a police officer didn't he?" Kenma says. "Hinata and Bokuto on the same team together. Must be a handful for sure." Kai says.

"Kageyama did his dream." Fukunga says softly. "Hey didn't that blonde manager start to work for an ad design company?" Yaku says drinking.

"Hah Tsukishima, started to work for a museum plus he's on the Sendai Frogs team!" I say smiling proud. "He's basically like a son to you isn't he?" Shibayama asks.

"Nah that would make sense though!" Lev says finally connecting some dots. "Hey Fukunga aren't you a comedian too? Tell us a joke." I say.

"Oh Where do baby cats learn to swim? The kitty pool!" Fukunga says happily. We all clap Lev dying on the ground laughing.

Soon enough we all went to sleep... can't wait for tomorrow.

———————————————————————

> Also on Wattpad!

> I don’t know how to feel about this :(

[okay-j-hannah]

Princess

Stranger Things : Fic

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 2904

Warnings: Just that I can’t get this guy out of my head 😭

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Eddie is astonished when he finds someone from the popular crowd sharing more than one interest of his

The lunchroom was clamoring with noise; students making their way, trying to survive. Some were stalking the edges, eyeing for spots where they’d find the least resistance. Some were strutting confidently to their designated tables, joining trendy cheerleaders and bathroom gossips. Others were sitting on the tabletops, tossing basketballs and footballs against each other like an athletics war. Many went to the outliers, pulling out chess boards or poker sets or homework.

(Y/N) sat on the edge of the student body officers and gossipers, enjoying a good book. She remained quiet, sneaking a fry from her lunch every once in a while. The others around her laughed, applied lipstick, kissed, shared sweaters and jackets, and contemplated the upcoming school events.

“I can’t believe Jason thinks basketball is better than football,” one said. They eyed the blonde player chucking his ball towards some jersey clad quarterbacks.

“I can’t believe that Claire Lexington kissed him behind the gymnasium.”

“Where did you hear that garbage?”

“Lawrence told me.”

A round of scoffs mocked the news, “Anything Lawrence says is bullshit.”

(Y/N) turned a page of her book.

“He’s just desperate to get into our crowd,” one girl said, trading scrunchies with a friend beside her. “He’ll say anything he thinks will give him cred.”

“You know he once told the entire geek squad that I was sending him secret admirer messages.”

The table flickered their eyes toward the chess corner and others performing science experiments amongst their lunch trays.

“That’s nothing,” one guy added, combing back his hair, “I was feeling up that Amanda Dixon girl last weekend and she told me she spotted the freak leaving Lawrence’s house.”

A few groaned, “He probably deals. That explains a lot.”

The class president craned his neck from his spot sitting on the table, “Hey freakoid!” and he tossed his half eaten chicken sandwich across the room.

That’s when (Y/N) flickered her eyes from her pages to the lunchroom – just in time to see the foil wrapped chicken hit a curly head. Eddie Munson.

She sighed heavily through her nose as her table laughed and jeered. Eddie remained seated, fists clenched and avoiding the direction of the mockery. The other so called ‘freaks’ did something similar, barely moving their eyes to see those responsible.

“Done any fire chants lately, freak?” the class vice yelled, “Any alter offerings?”

Eddie smirked, tilting his head up, “Yeah, and I’d have to thank you – your mother made a lovely sacrifice.”

The class vice stood from his chair, “You insulting my mother now, freakoid?”

“No, insulting her would be reminding her that you’re her spawn. How disappointing you must be.”

The whole presidency was standing now. Chairs skid and clattered to the ground, silencing the lunchroom. The tension spoke of a coming fight.

Eddie remained sitting with an obnoxious smile on his face, as if he enjoyed how much he riled them up. He kicked his feet onto the table.

“Me disappointing? At least I have a mother to disappoint.”

That wiped the smile from Eddie’s face. He leapt onto the table, kicking his lunch tray out of the way and towards the jocks. Corn and milk and potatoes speckled their letterman jackets.

“You dickwad!” the president yelled, roughly scratching corn kernels from his hair. “You think you’re going to snake your way out of this one by throwing your lunch?” He and a number of others cracked their knuckles, folding their arms to appear more menacing then they were.

(Y/N) held in a snicker at seeing milk running down their faces.

“I have the high ground,” Eddie said, giving them the middle finger.

“I’m going to pummel you so far into that ground that the only way you’d be recognized is by the top of your curly rat infested head!”

Eddie crouched and motioned for them to come over, “I’m getting real sick of the talk, boys. Pretty soon everyone will believe that’s all you are – talk.”

The class president and he posse lunged for the table but found their path blocked by a new figure.

“Jackson…” (Y/N) placed her hand on the class president’s chest, “Turn around and go back.”

He grimaced, “Get out of my way, (Y/N) – this doesn’t concern you.”

“It does, in fact,” she grumbled, holding up her book, “You’ve disturbed my reading. I suggest you leave your little squabbles for outside the school. You don’t want any administration stripping you of your titles because of a little fight, do you?” She titled her head to the side and Jackson followed her gaze, spotting a teacher entering the lunchroom.

He hissed, “Dammit.” His eyes glowered towards Eddie, spitting at him, “You better watch your back, freak.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes to hide them from rolling, “Thank you, Jackson.” The group of student body officers trailed back to their table where the girls stood in various stages of shock. (Y/N) barely turned her head to acknowledge Eddie.

Her eyebrows rose in a question.

His expression was confused, but he gave her a subtle nod. A nod of thanks.

There was the beginnings of a smile on her lips as she walked back to her designated spot on the edge.

Eddie followed her with his eyes as he crawled off the table. He knew of (Y/N) – the quiet straight A student from his english class… and history… and math now that he thought about it. She was so kind.

His leaned back in his chair, a finger to his lips. No one ever treated him with such kindness. Certainly no one from the opposite side of the lunchroom.

He stared after her now, contemplating the way she opened her book. The way her eyes traveled across the lines. The way her ‘friends’ simply ignored her as she read.

It looked like a dragon was on the cover of her book. That made him smile.

It was official – (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was definitely on his radar now.

~~~

They were given the rest of class to complete their assignment; something about graphing. Eddie was too preoccupied watching (Y/N) to care about the class.

The most likely reason she hadn’t spotted his staring yet was because of the headphones covering her ears. He eyed her walkman resting in her lap, wondering what sort of music she was listening to.

He was twirling the rings around his fingers as he pondered ways to start a conversation. She was part of the popular crowd; there was no way he had a chance. But the way she stood up for him the other day gave him hope like nothing else.

“Your table is still blank.”

Eddie snapped his eyes from her lap to her face, “What?” It came out hoarse and quiet.

(Y/N) paused her walkman and moved the headphones to around her neck, “You haven’t even filled out your table yet.” She was smiling, leaning over to point at his assignment. “Well, here’s your first problem. Do you remember how to solve exponents?”

His mouth had popped open, overwhelmed with how close she was.

She smiled, “Eddie?”

“What are you listening to?” he asked like they weren’t just talking about his math.

She raised her eyebrows and he chuckled nervously. “How about we get your assignment finished and I’ll let you borrow my tape.”

He hummed deep in his chest, “Well, how do I know it’s a tape I’d like to borrow? I don’t want to go through the trouble of all this math for some care bear music I won’t like – that’s not a fair trade.”

“You should care more about your grades.”

“Eh, I’ll graduate eventually.”

She laughed. He grinned.

“I know you’ll like the tape.”

“So confident,” he mused, feeling more comfortable. They spoke in hushed tones as the teacher wrote instructions on the chalkboard. Eddie leaned even closer, so their shoulders touched, “Now I’m intrigued – how do you know I’ll like it?”

“Your patches tell me so.” She put a hand to his vest to trace some of the band logos. He had to watch his breathing. His eyes ran from her fingertips on his chest to the length of her arm and finally to her soft smile.

His lungs felt constricted in his chest. “There’s no way. You don’t mean… you know these are all metal bands, right?”

She nodded, trying not to laugh at his reaction, “Yes.”

Eddie flew back in his chair dramatically, hands thrown up in the air. Disbelief was painted on his face, “You’re telling me…!” he began to shout but the teacher cut him off.

“Mr. Munson, please control your unpleasant outbursts before I administer your fourth detention this term.”

“Sorry, your honor,” Eddie said with the same air of disbelief. He leaned close into (Y/N) again, “You’re telling me you’re listening to heavy metal in math class?”

She shrugged, mere inches from him, “Does that surprise you?”

He was flabbergasted, “But you… you’re…”

“Quiet, sweet, a trendy popular kid?”

“Well, yeah,” he found he was losing the control on his breathing, “You’re top of the class, head of all the school campaigns, and…”

“… and I listen to the occasional heavy metal.”

“Metallica?”

“Obviously.”

“Iron Maiden?”

“I was just listening to The Trooper, by far their best yet.”

Eddie scoffed, “Black Sabbath?”

“My favorite song is one of theirs. Paranoid.”

“Paranoid is your favorite song?” He stared at her in wonder, his constricted chest now filling with an inconsolable warmth. “Obviously you haven’t heard Metallica’s Master of Puppets yet.”

She smiled, “I haven’t.” She bowed, their foreheads nearly touching, “Any good?”

“Miss. (Y/L/N), would you care to join Mr. Munson in a detention?”

“It’s not her fault, your honor,” Eddie said like he didn’t have a care in the world, “I’m the one egging her on.”

The teacher frowned, “I’ve never known you to take the fall for your peers, Mr. Munson.”

“What can I say?” Eddie said, resting an arm on the back of (Y/N)’s chair, “I think I’m in love.”

~~~

There was no denying that Eddie Munson had a thing for the teacher’s pet. He was often seen eyeing her from across the lunchroom or banging his head against lockers trying to buck up the courage to talk to her.

He hadn’t been able to think of anyone or anything else since that math class. And there just wasn’t a prime opportunity where (Y/N) wasn’t surrounded by people that wanted to pummel him on a regular basis.

She was kind as ever to him. She always smiled his way whenever they passed each other in the hall. She always gave extra effort in convincing her ‘friends’ to leave him alone.

Eddie was finding himself actually going to class everyday just to see (Y/N). There was always the possibility a teacher would make a project that he and (Y/N) could be partners on. But the longer he waited for the perfect moment, the longer it’d been since their last talk.

He sat on the railing of some stairs outside, smoking a cigarette. He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of his new Dungeons and Dragons campaign – envisioning his puffs of smoke into dragon fire.

He could hear the cheers and chants from the gymnasium. He normally scouted the end of games for potential buyers looking to have a fun night after a win. The tip of his cigarette glowed in the enveloping darkness.

He licked his lips, spotting the first groups of kids and families leaving the gym. Eddie flicked his cigarette to the ground and stamped on the ashes. There was a chill, and he shoved his hands into his vest pockets.

Laughter met his ears, and he watched a friend group stumble out into the night. By the look of the uniformed skirts and jerseys, they were some cheerleaders and basketball players. Eddie huffed, waiting for them to pass.

Until he heard what they were shouting.

“Come on, (Y/N)!”

“You’re really gonna miss the party of the century?”

“We’re this much closer to the championship!”

Eddie stood straight, realizing that there was someone standing quite still compared to the rest of the rambunctious group. He couldn’t hear her replies – she did always speak so softly.

“Your loss.”

“Eh, just leave her to her books. They’re the only friends she wants anyways.”

“Maybe you should start your own table,” someone laughed, “A place for unsociable book readers.”

She stayed behind as the rest of the group walked on.

Eddie watched her, a spark of anger residing in his stomach for the way they abandoned her. But the tightness of his chest was overwhelming him again. It got tighter still as he made his way over.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

She snapped her head up, “Oh, hello Eddie.” Her voice sounded strained.

He tried not to notice how her eyes seemed glassy, “What brings you to the borders of this hellhole?”

She gave the tiniest of smiles, “I was just on my way home.”

“By yourself?” he crossed his arms, monitoring her expression.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, “Yep. It’s nice seeing you, Eddie. We can talk in history tomorrow.” And she started walking towards the road.

Eddie scrunched his brow, “Oh, woah – hey, babe. You’re not walking home alone – in the dark.”

“It’s okay,” she feigned a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And Eddie let her walk away twenty feet before he stamped a foot and ran after her. “I can’t let you walk alone.”

“Can’t?” she asked with a hint of teasing in her tone.

“You have a problem with me escorting a lady home?” Seeing her raised eyebrow he bowed, “M’lady.”

She laughed, “I’d be honored good sir.”

Eddie scoffed, “I’m no sir, my lady.”

“Then what are you if not a knight escorting his princess?”

“Oh, you’re a princess now?”

“Aren’t princesses addressed with ‘my lady’? Is that not what you meant?”

Eddie smirked, “I’ve got no problem calling you princess.”

(Y/N) was thankful for the darkness. It hid the redness of her cheeks. She tried to busy herself with giggling at the fidgety way he walked. Eddie just couldn’t keep still – his steps clumsy as he bumped into her every few feet.

“You’ve brought a book to a basketball game,” he remarked, pointing out the novel in her hand.

“Yes, I’m not much into sports. But my friends are, so I go with them… as long as I have a book to fend off the boredom.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, trying to read the title. His mouth fell open, shocked by her once more.

“You’re kidding me,” he snatched the book from her fingers, “You’re reading Lord of the Rings?”

“Yes,” she laughed, “Why? Have you read it?”

Eddie choked, “Have I read it? Does a hobbit enjoy seven meals a day?”

(Y/N) took the book back, “Oh, I love Lord of the Rings! Magic and adventure and dragons and kingdoms.”

Eddie clapped his hands together excitedly, “Yes! (Y/N), I had no idea you were…”

“What, a freak like you?” she said it jokingly, “Just because I enjoy a bit of both worlds doesn’t mean I have to be a school pariah.”

He nodded towards the ground, “You’re not at all what I was expecting.”

“No?”

“You sit with the biggest bunch of dicks the school has to offer. One would assume because you enjoy their company that you might be one yourself.”

She hummed, “Makes sense. You know, you aren’t what I was expecting either.”

“Pray tell.”

“Well, you always seem so mad at the world.”

“Big and scary?”

She nudged him, “You’re really just a softie at heart.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a satanist that summons demons with my hellfire.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare.”

Eddie hesitated until he was a few steps behind her. She marched on and he had to jog to reach her side again. “You’ve noticed?”

“I’ve never known a demon summoner to be so nervous to talk to a girl.”

He kept quiet for a few minutes, the tightness of his chest becoming more noticeable as they neared the neighborhoods.

“So you’re not a knight,” she mused, looking at her book, “What would you be then?”

He was thoughtful for a moment, “A warrior. Someone who takes charge in a battle. Someone others look to for inspiration and strength. Someone who looks good with a sword and shield.” He gave her a wink. “Definitely someone I wish I was now.”

(Y/N) gave him a look and treaded carefully, “I believe the characters we want to be says a lot about how we see ourselves.” She touched shoulders with him, “You want to be a warrior because you don’t believe yourself to be one now.”

Eddie dwelled on the thought, feeling content and vulnerable next to her, “And you want to be a princess.” He looked at her with such warmth. She didn’t think she was a princess now?

He could easily show her just how much of a princess she really was.

She blushed. “This is me,” she gestured to the next house, smiling when he walked her all the way to the door. “Thank you for escorting me.”

Eddie stared at her face for an almost abnormal amount of time. It was causing her blush to deepen across her cheeks and down her neck.

“It’s been my pleasure,” he spoke softly. He took her hand and slowly bowed to kiss her knuckles, “My princess.”

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @kaqua @cameleonfrenzy @shyposttree​

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

[mantislyblaca]

Hattie M. Carstens was a beloved activist who served a variety of social causes in Detroit until her death in 1915. This school, designed by the firm Malcomson & Higginbotham, opened on Coplin Street and East Vernor Highway a year later and named in her honor.

The three-story school has an F-shaped floor plan, the result of additions in 1919 and 1921. This made it fairly large for an elementary school, with 29 standard classrooms in addition to a library, kindergarten and four large specialty rooms. The building is also rather unusual among Detroit schools for its raised, fenestrated basement level, which is sunken half a level below. The front façade faces southwest onto Coplin Avenue, and the school sits in the middle of an entire 5-acre city block, just north of Vernor Highway.

The school is considered an outstanding example of the Arts and Crafts style that was popular in the early 1900s. This can best be seen in Carstens' decorative brick detail and tile and terra cotta that is focused around the central entrance and between floors. Malcomson & Higginbotham designed a handful of other schools in this style during this time period - Nichols School (1910), Breitmeyer School (1915) and Harms School (1917). Nichols and Harms are still in use; Breitmeyer was demolished in 2010. But the 1920s saw a shift in the design of educational buildings in the city, with a firm shift toward the Collegiate Gothic found at the great educational institutions of England. This makes schools of this style rare in Detroit.

An addition in 1919 added six homerooms, a gymnasium and an auditorium, and another addition two years later tacked on another nine classrooms.

The Herbert M. Rich School, named after a secretary of the Detroit Tuberculosis Society, was built in 1927 on the grounds of Carstens. That building was demolished at some point; it was a four-room bungalow-type structure with a dormitory.

In 1957, Carstens was converted into a unit for girls enrolled in the special education program, and opened the following year. Several basement classrooms were added in the late 1950s or early '60s.

The school continued serving the east side for the next half century. However, the Fox Creek neighborhood saw considerable decline and disinvestment during that time. Nevertheless, Carstens remained a high-performing school. staff went above and beyond to help their students. As Detroit URBEX wrote, "After several students were hospitalized with severe lead poisoning, Carstens began an outreach program educating families in the neighborhood about the dangers of lead paint in older houses. When teachers found out that many students were going hungry during weekends, they made extra meals for them to take home. A New York Times article noted 'to have more money for instruction, teachers sit with students at lunch, saving the school from having to hire lunchroom aides. Teachers hold jacket and shoe drives for children who have no winter coats and come to school in slippers. At Thanksgiving every child goes home with a frozen turkey donated by a local businessman. Twice a year a bus carrying a portable dentist’s office arrives, and a clinic is set up at the school so children can get their teeth checked.'”

However, as Detroit's population continued to decline, so did Carstens' enrollment, with the school losing more than half of its population between 1998 and 2007. In March of 2010, the district proposed closing Carstens Elementary, citing the loss of students and the $3 million in repairs the aging building needed. Parents fought to keep Carstens open and helped win it a temporary reprieve - but that stay of closure lasted only a year.

In 2011, Carstens was closed and merged with nearby Remus Robinson Middle School, making Carstens one of a staggering 195 public schools closed in the city between 2000 and 2015. Three years later, Carstens was among 57 closed Detroit Public Schools (DPS) properties given to the City of Detroit in exchange for forgiving millions of dollars in DPS' unpaid electrical bills. Sadly, the building has not faired well since closure, with major roof failure causing significant water damage throughout.

The City released a report in 2021 that offered potential developers insight into the structural integrity and floor plans of more than 60 vacant schools - 39 owned by the City and two dozen still owned by the school district. The effort was not only to take inventory of the dozens of vacant schools dotting the city, but also to incentivize redevelopment of the structures by reducing the upfront costs through the assessments provided. Given the roof failures and decade of decline, the City estimated that a renovation of Carstens would cost around $16.2 million, depending on use.

Carstens is located in Detroit's Fox Creek neighborhood, one that has seen more than its share of challenges and demolitions. The school is surrounded by vacant fields - and is home to one of the largest concentrations of vacant land and City-owned properties. Given the costs and challenges of redeveloping a school that's been vacant for more than a decade, this makes finding a savior for Carstens, no matter how beautiful the building is, sadly unlikely.

You can Follow For More on

Instagram - Mantis Lyblaca

TikTok - Mantis Lyblaca

Facebook - Mantis Lyblaca

[lboogie1906]

Second Lieutenant Albert Irving Cassell June 25, 1895 - November 30, 1959) a prominent African American architect, planner, engineer, educator, and entrepreneur, was born in Towson, Maryland to Albert and Charlotte Cassell. His education began in a Baltimore public school. He moved to Ithaca, New York, and enrolled in a city high school. He was admitted into Cornell University, where he worked on campus.

He served in the Army during WWI. Commissioned as a second lieutenant in the heavy field artillery, he served as a training officer in France. He returned to Cornell University and completed his BS in architecture. His first project included the design of five buildings at the Tuskegee Institute with fellow architect William A. Hazel. He designed silk mills and other industrial plants in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. He joined the Architecture Department of Howard University as an assistant professor.

He designed projects that helped shape the physical growth of Howard University. He produced the master plan for the expansion of the campus. He set about purchasing the land around the university to execute his plan. He helped to design and construct the medical school, dining hall, gymnasium, stadium, chemistry building, power plant, underground power distribution system, the Founders Library, the Frederick Douglass Memorial Hall, and three women’s dormitory buildings. He designed buildings at Virginia Union University and Morgan State College. He laid a strong foundation for a strong and successful architecture program at Howard University. He presided over the creation of the College of Engineering and Architecture at the university.

He pursued the development of an unsuccessful planned community for African Americans on the shore of the Chesapeake Bay. He led the development of the Mayfair Mansions Project and the James Creek Alley Housing Development in DC. He designed civic buildings for the state of Maryland and DC and participated in other projects at Washington National Airport and the Pentagon. He was a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #alphaphialpha

[chauhandipesh]

Discover Affordable Luxury at Advitya Heights, Faridabad

Nestled in the heart of Faridabad, along the bustling Main Mathura Road in Sector 143, Advitya Heights emerges as a beacon of Affordable luxury in the city’s real estate landscape. Offering a diverse selection of meticulously crafted 1 BHK, 2 BHK, and 3 BHK apartments, Advitya Heights caters to the discerning needs of modern families and investors alike.

Prime Location, Unmatched Convenience

Advitya Heights boasts a strategic location that ensures unparalleled connectivity. Situated in Sector 143, residents enjoy seamless access to major highways, educational institutions, healthcare facilities, shopping centers, and recreational hubs. This prime positioning not only enhances daily convenience but also promises a lifestyle enriched with urban amenities.

Modern Amenities for Every Lifestyle

Step into Advitya Heights, and you'll find yourself immersed in a world of modern comforts and conveniences. Whether you seek an active lifestyle or tranquility, the project offers something for everyone. Residents can indulge in state-of-the-art amenities such as a well-equipped gymnasium, rejuvenating jogging track, expansive multipurpose lawn, vibrant shopping mall, safe children’s play area, and thoughtful 24-hour surveillance for peace of mind.

Quality Construction and Design Excellence

Built with a commitment to quality and attention to detail, each apartment at Advitya Heights exemplifies superior craftsmanship. From robust structural integrity to elegant interior finishes, every aspect is meticulously designed to elevate your living experience. The use of premium materials ensures durability, safety, and sustainability, reflecting our dedication to delivering homes that stand the test of time.

Affordable Luxury, Unbeatable Value

Advitya Heights redefines affordability without compromising on luxury. The project offers competitive pricing across its range of apartments, making it accessible to a wide spectrum of homebuyers and investors. Whether you’re a first-time buyer or looking to expand your real estate portfolio, Advitya Heights presents an exceptional opportunity to own a piece of Faridabad’s thriving real estate market.

Customer Satisfaction, Testimonials that Speak

Don’t just take our word for it—hear from our satisfied residents. Rahul Sharma praises Advitya Heights for its spacious layouts and top-notch amenities, while Priya Singh recommends it for its excellent value proposition in Faridabad’s competitive real estate scene. Their testimonials underscore our commitment to exceeding expectations and creating homes where families thrive.

Experience Advitya Heights Today

Curious to explore what Advitya Heights has to offer? Schedule a visit to our office located on Main Mathura Road, Sector 143, Faridabad, Sikri. Our friendly team is ready to guide you through the project, answer your queries, and help you find the perfect home tailored to your lifestyle and budget.

For more information or to book your visit, contact us at 999-278-9260 or connect with us via WhatsApp. Stay updated on the latest news, offers, and insights by following Advitya Heights on social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram.

Conclusion

Advitya Heights isn’t just a housing project; it’s a gateway to affordable luxury in Faridabad. Whether you’re looking for a vibrant community to raise your family or a promising investment opportunity, Advitya Heights promises a lifestyle enriched with convenience, comfort, and modernity. Discover your new home at Advitya Heights and embark on a journey where every day feels like a celebration of life’s finest pleasures.

[lubotomies]

I'm collecting those pointers for future reference cause I know I have been guilty of it in the past, so like any more you can give, even the most minute things is greatly, greatly appreciate and I thank you for those you've given already

of course! and i totally understand. when a community doesnt have space for minorities to voice their concerns these kinds of designs get tossed around and spread like a disease, and while thats not to say its a minorities responsibility to talk about it, of course not, a community that was made up completely of 13 year olds in 2018 when this design choice was most popular is just simply not going to know better. now those people are adults, still using those designs because its almost just. normalized. its everywhere, why should they alone be held accountable and be the one to stop using the design? its never been a problem before, theyve drawn it like this for years, etc etc. it becomes ingrained in the community and people have a hard time changing unless given explicit advice on what theyre doing wrong and im happy to help with that.

with that out of the way, lets talk about colors! tord is often associated with the colors red and black. unfortunately, so are the nazis. does this mean you cant use red and black for your red army designs? no. you just have to be careful with your design choice.

think of it as a scale, itll help you memorize it. the more realistic and militant your army design is, the less red and black you should use. the more abstract (think sci-fi, post apocalypse, fantasy, casual or whatever) your design is, so long as it doesnt resemble traditional military gear, the more red and black you can use. the militant design on this graph is still very iffy in the way it looks, as you can tell - because its still some what of a fascist design (note: this is why you avoid the caps regardless of color bc its still a symbol). essentially the less your tord looks like the leader of an army and the less he resembles a fascist figure, the more things usually associated with totalitarianism you can put to use (in this case being the color palette).

we can even take eddsworld itself as an example with this screenshot:

although tord is standing at a pedestal, giving a speech, evil smirk and all with the victory symbol raised up on both sides - you still cant recognize it as totalitarianism symbolism because of numerous factors. 1. he lacks a traditional militant uniform, instead dawning his casual hoodie. hes just tord presumably taking over the world. 2. despite the real hammer and sickle being on the flag, it doesnt feel like it given that the colors are wrong. communism isnt associated with red and blue, but red and yellow. 3. the stage itself is modest. theres no giant symbol behind him, no giant flags by the sides of him, just a small communist symbol on a weird red and blue background. it looks like hes giving this speech in the school gymnasium. it doesnt look political.

nazi imagery comes in layers. when you think of nazism youll think of things you might not even notice despite it being pictured in your thoughts. youll think of black and red, youll think of pride and giant symbols of a political party hung around every corner - ingrained into stone and sewn into clothing. you think of order and organization, everyone stands in perfect lines, specific salutes, a leader looking down at the soldiers at his command. you think of two symmetrical flags at either sides of a pedestal, a color coded army, executions, military officals keeping their hands behind their backs, etc etc. because it comes in all these layers, you can strip them down. the more and more you remove, the less it becomes a specific vision of a nazi army, and the more it becomes just abstract concepts. descriptions and definitions. its important to limit yourself with how much of these you utilize for your portrayal because when you start using too many, people start to connect the dots.

[elmaestrostan]

It makes me sad knowing what this sweet bean went through towards the end at Arsenal, but… damn, I’m glad if it had to happen to lead to this.

He’s ours and he’s perfect 💜💙

Paywall article text under the cut 🤝

Upstairs at Aston Villa’s Bodymoor Heath training ground, overlooking the newly refurbished gymnasium, sits Unai Emery’s office.

His room is divided into three, with a door-sized hole between each. It is where Villa’s footballing decision-makers for the head coach, Monchi and Damian Vidagany, work.

“Obsessive” is a frequently used description from those who have worked with Emery. It is his overarching coaching trait and a blessing or a curse, depending on the club he works at.

It is four years to the day since Emery was sacked at Arsenal. It hurt him deeply given it was a decision he did not see coming. Such was his insular, all-consuming manner, he felt blindsided and unaware of the growing scepticism in his project. He believed there remained total belief in him having integrated young players, such as Gabriel Martinelli, Bukayo Saka and Eddie Nketiah into the first team, which, in his mind, displayed the early buds of a new, youthful Arsenal.

UNAI-EMERY-BUKAYO-SAKA-

Emery gave Saka his Arsenal debut (Stuart MacFarlane/Arsenal FC via Getty Images)

Since his sacking, however, the 52-year-old has spoken to close friends, accepting he was too focused on just the football aspect within a club where politics are rife and diplomacy is key.

Increasingly at Arsenal, he was regarded as too introspective and not tending to the broader picture. The difference at Villa is that they indulge his footballing obsessions, building a network of his own choosing around him, all of whom he trusts implicitly and, as explained by Vidagany, a close friend and the director of football, takes care of most off-the-field matters.

He shares a trusting relationship with owners Wes Edens and Nassef Sawiris, demonstrated in their holding company, V Sports, announcing a partnership with Real Union earlier this week. In June, Emery and his brother, Igor, acquired a controlling stake in the Spanish club, for whom their father and grandfather both played and who now sit in the regional third tier.

Arsenal are a huge club interweaving several large departments. Politics is naturally at stake and, as his predecessor Arsene Wenger was deft in doing, needs an all-encompassing remit that involves managing areas outside of just football. Yet Emery is fanatic about improving his side from a tactical perspective. He pays little attention outside of his close circle and footballing bubble which, invariably, means the structure around him needs to be managed from elsewhere.

As he does at Villa working from 7am to 7pm, he would be at Arsenal’s London Colney training ground until late, brimming with ideas and designing training sessions that were often long. They could irk players, especially on the days before games when Emery was known to spend two to three hours on the grass, practising shape work.

The network Emery inherited at Arsenal was unstable and the boardroom in a state of flux. For a coach replacing a figurehead such as Wenger, whose fingerprints were all over the club, stability from above was paramount.

It was quickly found wanting. Then chief executive Ivan Gazidis immediately left for AC Milan, while recently appointed head of recruitment Sven Mislintat and head of football relations Raul Sanllehi did not last long. Other figures involved in the inner mechanisms, including head of scouting Francis Cagigao and contract broker Huss Fahmy, departed.

Emery wanted to be solely the head coach. This was his strength and why he held three Europa League winners medals — he would add another at his next job Villarreal — and seven trophies in two years at Paris Saint-Germain. Emery did not want to be directly involved in transfer negotiations, only interested in the outcome of deals, nor did he want governance over the day-to-day running of the club.

One of the first calls Emery made before joining Villa was to Vidagany, who initially came in as his personal assistant, so he could manage those aspects off the field. Augmented by the arrival of the president of football operations, Monchi, in the summer, he and Vidagany take care of transfer negotiations, act as sounding boards for players’ and agents’ queries and connect the different departments together. It is widely accepted Emery did not have those figures of personal connection at Arsenal, with Villa intending from the outset to build the club around him.

Vidagany, left, is a key figure in Emery’s staff at Villa (David Rogers/Getty Images)

Within an executive structure that was unsettled, the schism between Arsenal’s departments continued to grow.

“If Mikel (Arteta) had come in straight after Arsene and tried to apply these kinds of hard and fast rules, it would never have worked,” one source told The Athletic in April 2021.

Crucially, it meant the backing for Emery was never firm. The general sense of Emery was that he was so consumed by football that he occasionally failed to see the bigger picture or relate to others.

Even though he was not overly personable, he still retained a warmth. Almost everyone at Arsenal still speaks highly of Emery, even if his sacking hurt him. They are pleased to see his progress since his sacking in November 2019 and his remarkable first year at Villa.

The underlying theme behind Emery’s second crack in England — from a figure of ridicule to being viewed as one of Europe’s elite coaches again — is learning the lessons from Arsenal. He knew a support network that worked in his best interests was essential in building Villa in his image.

Villa staff do not underestimate Vidagany’s importance. There is a feeling that, if Emery had Vidagany at Arsenal, Emery would still be the manager in north London. Similarly at Paris Saint-Germain, Vidagany might have helped manage internal politics and manage broader departments.

When Emery was appointed head coach in October 2022, Villa brought in six staff members to form his backroom team, all known to Emery or who previously worked with him. More Spanish-speaking figures have joined since. Previous sporting director Johan Lange moved away from the day-to-day running of the club to assist the owners in their multi-club model plans before leaving for Tottenham Hotspur, along with former head of recruitment Rob Mackenzie in October.

Both decided to pursue new endeavours after Villa’s existing model was altered to suit Emery. This included the hiring of Alfredo Benito — a former team-mate of Emery’s at Toledo — in a global technical role and another scout in Pablo Rodriguez, who was a former team-mate at Racing Ferrol. Vidagany’s official title changed from personal assistant to director of football in the summer.

Monchi, a close aide from their time at Sevilla, drives the recruitment process under Emery’s demands. Emery, Vidagany and Monchi have formed a “power triangle” in charge of the critical decisions.

Emery views Pep Guardiola’s structure at Manchester City as the most conducive to empowering managerial success. Those close to Emery believe he is on the same level as Guardiola when assessing the best coaches in the world and point out that City’s manager, similarly to Villa’s head coach, has good friends in the boardroom, such as managing director Ferran Soriano and director of football Txiki Begiristain.

“What we need to do here is to let Unai take the sporting decisions, let Monchi choose the players with Unai and all of us provide a strong structure — like a fortress — to give them time to develop the project,” Vidagany told The Athletic in October. “Because in the end, the difference between success and failure is time.”

Sources close to Villa’s players say Emery does not tend to have conversations with members of the team unless they are in matchday squads. Some who have spent prolonged periods out with injury, such as defender Kortney Hause, have only briefly spoken to Emery.

The Spaniard has, however, shown an adept balance in choosing times to learn about his players. During Villa’s pre-season tour of the U.S. this summer, Emery spoke at length with younger players, asking about their ambitions and backgrounds, right down to what their parents do.

Pre-season was exhausting. Lots of travel with lots of games afforded little opportunity for downtime and pushed players to physical exertion, far more than what is accustomed. Yet, among Villa’s players and staff, there is total buy-in, which was not always the case at Arsenal, where certain staples of his management — including lengthy video analysis sessions — were met with consternation.

“With (Steven) Gerrard, training was just training,” says a source close to a Villa player, speaking on the condition of anonymity. “But Emery is so detailed, as he was at Arsenal. He coached them and continues to coach them in every facet of football every single day.”

Emery is demanding of his players (James Gilbert/Getty Images for Premier League)

“The mentality, the desire to win — just everything about him has been absolutely brilliant,” said captain John McGinn following Villa’s 2-1 victory away to Tottenham Hotspur. “He is obsessed about winning today, absolutely obsessed. That mindset and mentality is put into our heads. When we go behind, before we would have crumbled, but today we had our chests out.”

Villa players see purpose in his lengthy video sessions because the benefits are tangible on a matchday. At Arsenal, though, a different view was shared. “When he was doing a tactical presentation, there was a lot of chat,” said one observer.

Emery is highly regarded and accomplished among coaching circles. One young manager at an upwardly mobile side in England’s higher leagues described Emery to The Athletic as “interesting and excellent” in his approach, expressing his joy at watching Villa from a tactical perspective.

“If anyone is trying to get hold of me and I’m not answering, I’m in the meeting room,” said McGinn. “He does a lot of hard work. He wants to win, he’s won throughout his career and there’s no reason why he can’t do that here. He’s drilling that into us. There are a lot of details, a lot of thinking and a lot of concentration required from us. He’s making people concentrate that I didn’t think were capable… I’m not naming any names.”

Emery’s reputation has recovered in England and, four years to the day since his departure from Arsenal, his stock has never been higher. A coach who learned the right lessons but refused to change his principles.

[luxurious-residence]

Luxurious Residence in Pune

Platinum Genx Tower, a plush and premium offering by the Platinum Buildcon Group, completely lives up to the brand philosophy of 'Built for Now' strategically located in the heart of Baner, conveniences and luxuries are a stone's throw away from the development. What's more, the project is designed keeping the unique concept of 2 BHKOs and 3 BHKOs in mind. Essentially providing an office space inside your home to take care of the modern-day need of Work From Home.

• 3- side Open Apartments

• Office space with every Apartment

• Hi-End Specifications

• 4 Tier Safety & Security

• Power Back in every apartment*

• 6+ Rooftop Amenities- Gymnasium, Children's Play Area, Party Lawn, etc.

[satyamev1]

Reasons for You to Choose 3BHK Luxury Flats in Patna

The landscape of real estate in Patna is evolving rapidly. With increasing infrastructure development, new amenities, and lifestyle-oriented housing projects, Patna is becoming a sought-after location for those seeking modern living. Among the myriad of choices, 3 BHK luxury flats are gaining popularity due to their spaciousness, comfort, and the elevated lifestyle they offer. Investing in a 3 BHK flat in Patna brings not only a perfect living space but also access to a wide array of amenities that enhance the quality of life. Here’s a deep dive into why choosing a 3 BHK luxury flat in Patna could be the best decision for you and your family.

1. Ideal Space for Families

When it comes to residential flats in Patna, a 3 BHK flat offers an ideal amount of space for a growing family. With three spacious bedrooms, you have room to create dedicated spaces for each family member. These flats cater to various needs, whether it’s a children’s room, guest room, or a home office. Additionally, many 3 BHK apartments provide ample living and dining space, ensuring that family gatherings and social occasions can be enjoyed without feeling cramped.

2. Enhanced Lifestyle and Comfort

Luxury 3 BHK flats in Patna are designed with premium interiors and modern layouts that combine aesthetic appeal with functionality. Builders today are emphasizing high-quality finishes, contemporary designs, and smart layouts that add elegance to each unit. By opting for 3 BHK luxury flats, you’re choosing a home with superior fixtures, a sense of grandeur, and an environment that promotes relaxation and peace. These flats often include features like modular kitchens, high-quality flooring, and built-in wardrobes, ensuring that every corner of your home exudes comfort and sophistication.

3. Access to Modern Amenities

Most residential flats in Patna, especially luxury 3 BHK options, come equipped with a range of modern amenities. These may include swimming pools, gymnasiums, children’s play areas, clubhouses, and landscaped gardens. Such amenities not only make life more convenient but also add to the quality of life. For those who prioritize health and wellness, having a gym or a pool within the residential complex can be an invaluable asset. Moreover, these amenities save time, as you won’t need to leave your complex to access recreational and fitness facilities.

4. Security and Privacy

3 BHK luxury flats in Patna come with advanced security systems, ensuring a safe living environment for you and your family. Gated communities, CCTV surveillance, and 24/7 security personnel are common in premium residential flats. This is especially reassuring for families with children or elderly members, providing peace of mind that safety is always prioritized. Furthermore, the layout of 3 BHK flats often ensures privacy for each bedroom, adding another layer of comfort.

5. Value for Money and Investment Potential

Investing in a 3 BHK flat in Patna is not only about lifestyle; it’s also a wise financial decision. The demand for spacious and well-equipped homes is on the rise, and luxury flats are expected to appreciate in value over time. With Patna’s real estate market expanding rapidly, buying a 3 BHK flat now could yield significant returns in the future. Furthermore, these flats have great rental potential. As the city attracts more professionals, families, and students, there is an increasing demand for quality rental properties, which means that 3 BHK flats for sale in Patna can offer an additional income source if you decide to rent them out.

6. Proximity to Essential Services

Most residential flats in Patna are strategically located, ensuring proximity to essential services like schools, hospitals, shopping centers, and public transport. Living in a 3 BHK flat in such prime locations not only saves time on commuting but also makes daily errands more convenient. Luxury flats are typically located in areas with good connectivity, making it easier to reach major city hubs, offices, and social venues. This proximity to essential services enhances the appeal of 3 BHK luxury flats, making them an ideal choice for urban dwellers.

7. Eco-Friendly and Sustainable Living

Many of today’s builders are focusing on sustainable and eco-friendly construction methods, especially in luxury residential flats. Energy-efficient lighting, rainwater harvesting, and waste management systems are some green practices incorporated in modern 3 BHK flats in Patna. Choosing a sustainable living environment contributes positively to the environment and often results in lower utility bills in the long run.

8. Exclusive Community Living

3 BHK luxury flats in Patna often offer a community lifestyle, allowing residents to interact and bond with like-minded people. These residential complexes often have social areas, like clubhouses and event halls, where residents can meet, socialize, and even celebrate special occasions. Such a setup fosters a close-knit community feeling, which is especially beneficial for families and children.

9. A Personal Retreat with Scenic Views

Patna’s real estate sector is steadily growing, with many new projects providing scenic views of the city skyline, green landscapes, or nearby water bodies. Having a 3 BHK apartment with a great view adds to the aesthetic appeal of your home. Large windows, spacious balconies, and terraces are designed to let in ample natural light and fresh air, creating a serene environment within your home. These spaces offer a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of city life.

In Conclusion

With the rising demand for high-quality residential flats in Patna, investing in a 3 BHK luxury flat makes perfect sense for those who prioritize comfort, lifestyle, and value for money. From spacious layouts and modern amenities to robust security and prime locations, these 3 BHK flats offer everything that a contemporary homeowner could desire. Whether you’re looking for a new home or a profitable investment, a 3 BHK flat in Patna is an ideal choice that brings luxury, convenience, and a quality living experience.

[risensgblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Ceiling Dehumidifiers, Commercial Cool Dehumidifiers, and Refrigerant Dehumidifiers

Humidity control is essential for maintaining a comfortable and healthy indoor environment, especially in large commercial and industrial spaces. Excessive humidity can lead to issues such as mold growth, structural damage, and uncomfortable working conditions. Dehumidifiers come in various designs and capacities to manage these moisture levels, including Ceiling Dehumidifier, Commercial Cool Dehumidifier, and refrigerant dehumidifiers. Each type serves a specific purpose and provides distinct benefits depending on the environment and application.

This guide will explore these three types of dehumidifiers in detail, explaining their functions, benefits, and applications to help you choose the right one for your needs.

1. Ceiling Dehumidifiers: Space-Saving and Efficient Solutions

A ceiling dehumidifier is a unit designed to be mounted onto the ceiling, making it ideal for areas where floor space is limited or where a discreet installation is preferred. These dehumidifiers are especially popular in commercial environments such as offices, gyms, or storage facilities where floor or wall units may be impractical.

 Key Features of Ceiling Dehumidifiers:

Space-Saving Design: By mounting the dehumidifier on the ceiling, you can maximize floor space for other purposes. This is especially useful in areas like server rooms, laboratories, or kitchens, where space is at a premium.

Discreet Installation: Ceiling-mounted dehumidifiers are unobtrusive, often blending seamlessly with the ceiling structure. They provide effective humidity control without affecting the aesthetic of the space or creating clutter.

Wide Coverage: Ceiling dehumidifiers are designed to handle larger areas, distributing dehumidified air evenly throughout a room. They work well in open spaces such as auditoriums, large meeting rooms, or warehouses.

Quiet Operation: Because they are installed above ground level, ceiling dehumidifiers often operate more quietly than floor-standing units. This makes them an excellent choice for noise-sensitive environments like offices, conference rooms, or educational institutions.

 Applications:

Commercial Offices: Ceiling dehumidifiers help maintain a comfortable and productive working environment by controlling humidity levels without taking up valuable floor space.

Gymnasiums and Fitness Centers: In spaces where excess moisture from sweating and exercise can become a problem, ceiling dehumidifiers keep the air dry and fresh without impeding movement or aesthetics.

Server Rooms: These units can be placed in critical areas to prevent moisture buildup, which could damage sensitive electronics and servers.

 2. Commercial Cool Dehumidifiers: Powerful Moisture Control for Large Spaces

Commercial cool dehumidifiers��are heavy-duty units designed to remove significant amounts of moisture from large areas, typically in industrial or commercial settings. They are built to operate in harsh conditions and are commonly used in places like warehouses, manufacturing plants, and large public spaces.

 Key Benefits of Commercial Cool Dehumidifiers:

High Capacity: Commercial cool dehumidifiers are capable of removing upwards of 100-200 pints of water per day, depending on the unit’s size and design. This makes them highly effective for controlling humidity in large spaces such as gymnasiums, auditoriums, or factories.

Durability: These dehumidifiers are built for tough environments and are often constructed from durable materials like stainless steel or heavy-duty plastic to withstand the wear and tear of industrial applications.

Portable Options: While many commercial cool dehumidifiers are stationary, there are portable models available with caster wheels, allowing for easy transportation and flexibility in placement.

Energy Efficiency: Many modern commercial cool dehumidifiers come with energy-efficient components and systems that allow for high performance without a substantial increase in energy consumption.

 Applications:

Warehouses and Storage Facilities: High humidity can lead to moisture damage to stored goods, equipment, and even the structure itself. Commercial cool dehumidifiers help maintain optimal conditions for long-term storage.

Manufacturing Plants: In factories where precise conditions are necessary for production, such as pharmaceuticals or food processing, commercial cool dehumidifiers ensure that moisture levels stay within safe and efficient ranges.

Public Buildings: Large public spaces such as museums, galleries, and libraries need effective humidity control to preserve artifacts, artworks, and maintain visitor comfort.

 3. Refrigerant Dehumidifiers: Ideal for Warm and Humid Environments

A refrigerant dehumidifier is one of the most common types of dehumidifiers, used for extracting moisture from the air by cooling it. These units function similarly to air conditioners but are designed specifically for dehumidification purposes. As the warm, moist air passes over a cooling coil, the moisture condenses into water, which is collected in a tank or drained away, and the drier air is then circulated back into the room.

 Key Benefits of Refrigerant Dehumidifiers:

Efficient Moisture Removal: Refrigerant dehumidifiers are very effective in environments with high temperatures and humidity. They work best in spaces where the ambient temperature is above 20°C (68°F), as this allows for efficient moisture extraction.

Cost-Effective Operation: Compared to desiccant dehumidifiers, refrigerant dehumidifiers are generally more energy-efficient in warm climates, making them a cost-effective choice for large-scale moisture control.

High Capacity: Many refrigerant dehumidifiers are built for high-capacity moisture removal, with commercial models capable of removing over 100 pints of water per day, making them suitable for large residential spaces, offices, and warehouses.

Low Maintenance: These units are relatively easy to maintain, with features such as washable filters and auto-restart capabilities in the event of a power outage.

 Applications:

Residential Homes: Refrigerant dehumidifiers are often used in basements, living areas, and bathrooms to control humidity and prevent mold growth, particularly in warm, humid climates.

Offices and Commercial Buildings: In office spaces or commercial environments with high foot traffic and equipment, refrigerant dehumidifiers help maintain air quality and prevent moisture-related issues.

Indoor Pools and Spas: These units are also useful in managing the high humidity levels around indoor pools or spas, ensuring that the space remains comfortable and free of excess moisture.

Conclusion

Selecting the right dehumidifier for your space depends on various factors, such as room size, temperature, and humidity levels. Ceiling dehumidifiers provide a space-saving, discreet option for commercial spaces where floor space is limited. Commercial cool dehumidifier offer robust solutions for managing humidity in large industrial areas, ensuring equipment and stored goods remain safe from moisture damage. Meanwhile, refrigerant dehumidifier are an excellent choice for warm, humid environments, providing cost-effective and efficient moisture removal.

By understanding the strengths and applications of each type of dehumidifier, you can ensure optimal humidity control in any environment, helping to create a healthier, more comfortable, and safer space for everyone involved.

[tbcovangarigeeta12]

Experience Iconic Urban Living

L & T Thane is an address highly regarded for its esteem, built by the builder T Realty. It forms an iconic representation of living in this bustling city called Thane, providing seamless integration of residential and commercial spaces that meet today's urban dwellers' needs. From 1 BHK to 2 BHK to 3 BHK residencies, each house has been laboriously planned to impart a princely experience. The project is well-designed while keeping in mind the comforts and style; thus, it is one of the ideal choices for people who move between work and life.

Located in the prime locale of Majiwada, L&T Thane enjoys easy access to some of the major highways and railway stations, apart from all vital urban facilities. Its prime location ensures that not only can the major business hubs be accessed fast, but it also brings its residents in close reach to a host of options in the retail, dining, and entertainment segments. With ultra-modern design, high-quality fixtures, and well-planned layouts, L&T Thane offers much more than just a dwelling place; it serves as a passageway to a fine and comfortable lifestyle. It thereby becomes one of the hot spots for investors and homebuyers alike.

Prime Location

l n t thane is set amidst a prime locality in Majiwada, which is one of the most sought-after residential areas in Thane. The place promised to be great in terms of connectivity to important parts of the city and beyond. Residents benefit from direct connections to major roads, train stations, and public transportation, allowing for smooth travel to Mumbai, Navi Mumbai, and other important business centers. The area is also known for its respected schools, medical facilities, shopping centers, and various entertainment spots, offering ease of living. A vibrant community with Majiwada's enthusiastic infrastructure adds to the appeal, assuring that everything will be at your doorstep.

Pioneers of Real Estate

L n T realty thane stands true to its commitment to excellence on every project and continues to set new trends in the same manner as L&T Thane. The builders come with an excellent reputation for timely completion and pay great attention to minute details in all aspects of the projects, keeping in mind two important aspects: sustainability and customer satisfaction. With the experience in construction that L&T Realty has, added to the commitment of building world-class living spaces, it is easily one of the most trusted names in the business.

Amenities and Facilities

LnT Thane comes with an array of amenities that add to the lifestyle of its residents. The project has a modern clubhouse, well-equipped gymnasium, and swimming pool-down to providing ample opportunities for fitness and unwinding. There are also children's play areas in the case of families, which provide them with a safe and entertaining environment in which to learn and have fun. Landscaped gardens provide the ideal retreat from the busy metropolitan way of life, offering the residents ample space to cool off and find quiet times in nature. Other facilities include multi-purpose halls, sports courts, and jogging tracks that further satisfy varied tastes and preferences of people.

The commercial spaces in L&T Realty Thane are equally impressive. It contains a premium retail segment and corporate office space, thus is self-contained. The enterprise can avail state-of-the-art infrastructure with flexible office space designed for the modern enterprise needs. Since the complex integrates residential and commercial space in the same compound, access for shopping, dining, and other necessary services is guaranteed with ease for its residents, hence a convenient, vibrant community.

Good Investment for the Future

An investment in a home inlnt realty thane always ensures a bright future. Being located at Majiwada, one of the fastest-growing areas in Thane, this project promises that the prices of properties will see only a northward movement with time. This offers excellent network access and closeness to key commercial centers, making it an attractive investment chance for experts in Mumbai and its nearby regions. It's a safe investment choice because L&T Realty is recognized as one of the most reliable and trusted developers.

Thane has grown tremendously over the last couple of years with continuous infrastructure development and increasing demand for good-quality housing. With its premium amenities and strategic location, L&T Thane will continue to benefit most from this growth, hence a viable investment. Be it a house or an investment opportunity, L&T Thane offers the best of both worlds.

Conclusion

L and T Thane is more than just another housing project; it is the destination where one can experience the ultimate life of luxury, combined with convenience and comfort. The thoughtfully designed homes and world-class amenities at L&T Thane ensure a perfect setting for urban living with its strategic location in Majiwada, Thane. Added to it is the trust and expertise of L&T Realty, making L&T Thane a right choice for both homebuyers and investors alike.

From the enterprising young professional and growing family to one looking for a solid investment, L&T Thane has something in store for everyone. Quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction form the core of each minutest detail in the project to ensure that one is not just buying a home but a lifestyle promising comfort, convenience, and a bright future.

[larisarealtech97]

Godrej Miraya Sector 43 Gurgaon - 3/4BHK Apartments

Godrej Miraya Gurgaon

Golf Course Road in Gurgaon is one of the most prestigious and sought-after locations in India.

It is known for its upscale living and excellent connectivity, it’s home to luxurious residential complexes, top corporate offices, and vibrant commercial spaces.

Now, adding to this high-end locale, Godrej Group has introduced Godrej Miraya, a new ultra-luxurious residential project in Sector 43, Gurgaon.

Prime Location

Godrej Miraya is ideally located on the renowned Golf Course Road, an area filled with premium residential and commercial developments.

This neighbourhood offers easy access to many parts of Gurgaon and beyond, making it perfect for working professionals and families.

With the Rapid Metro, premium malls, HUDA City Centre, and NH-48 nearby, commuting to key business hubs like Cyber Hub, Udyog Vihar or other parts of Delhi-NCR is quick and convenient.

Spacious Apartments and Modern Design

The project is spread over 5 acres and features 3 residential towers, offering beautifully designed, spacious apartments.

Each unit is built with a focus on comfort, modern style, and quality. Whether you're looking for a peaceful living space or a vibrant community, Godrej Miraya Sector 43 is designed to meet your expectations.

Luxury Amenities

At Godrej Miraya, luxury is not just about space but also about the lifestyle. The project offers an impressive range of world-class amenities, including:

A modern fitness centre

A lavish clubhouse

Landscaped gardens for relaxation

Jogging tracks

Infinity Pools

Gymnasium

Golf Putting

Jogging Tracking

A dedicated kids’ play area

Multi-level security to ensure safety

These facilities are designed to enhance your everyday life, providing comfort, entertainment, and security for you and your family.

Connectivity and Convenience

Apart from its luxurious offerings, the location of Godrej Miraya adds significant value.

The project is close to many top schools, hospitals, shopping centres, and entertainment hubs, making it an ideal place for families.

With easy access to key roads like Sohna Road, Golf Course Extension Road and SPR, getting around the city is a breeze.

Conclusion

Godrej Miraya Sector 43 is an outstanding opportunity to own a home on the prestigious Golf Course Road.

With its prime location, exceptional amenities, and modern design, this project offers the perfect balance of luxury and convenience.

Whether you're looking for a dream home or a valuable investment, Godrej Miraya is the ideal choice for those who seek the best in Gurgaon’s real estate market.