#Please stay safe outside there people there are many who will help you!
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enfinizatics ¡ 17 days ago
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dear americans,
as a polish queer woman and human rights activist, i know exactly how you're feeling right now and what to expect from these elections. i lived through the 2015-2023 regime of pis, a right-wing populist party that divided families in the same way trump did. i’ve experienced the rise of fascism in poland, the influence of far-right parties like konfederacja, and their “santa’s little helpers”—ordo iuris, an ultra-conservative catholic organization (banned in many countries, mind you) that helped enforce a near-total abortion ban and runs anti-queer campaigns in public spaces. i supported the black protests in 2016 as a middle schooler when they first tried to ban abortion. as an adult, i actively participated in the 2020 women’s strike, running from police tear gas daily after they finally passed the ban. i supported friends who faced charges.
i’ve lived through intense homophobia in poland as a queer teen and adult. i survived the first pride march in my hometown, where far-right extremists threw stones and glass at us. i endured the anti-queer propaganda spread by the ruling party in state-owned media. i survived the “rainbow night,” poland’s own stonewall moment in summer 2020, when police arrested around 50 queer activists following the arrest of margo, a nonbinary activist. i survived the "lgbt-free zones," the targeted violence, the slurs from strangers on the street, and the protests i held against queerphobia. it was hard as fuck, but i survived.
but just because i survived, it doesn’t mean others did. many women died because of the abortion ban—marta, justyna, izabela, dorota, joanna, maria, and many others who didn’t survive pis’s draconian anti-abortion laws. milo, kacper, michał, zuzia (she was 12), wiktor, and other queer and trans kids and young adults took their own lives because of the relentless queerphobia.
despite all of this, our experience in poland can serve as a guide now. here are some tips for staying safe and how we, polish queers and women, organized under the regime:
safety first, always. if you know someone who’s had an abortion, no you don’t. if you know someone is trans, no you don’t. if you know people who help with safe abortions, no you don’t—at least not until you know it’s 100% safe to share. if you are queer or have had an abortion, only share this with people you trust fully. most importantly, not everyone has to be an activist just because they’re part of a minority. if it feels unsafe to share that you're queer, trans, etc., then don’t. it doesn’t make you any less queer.
use secure, encrypted messaging like signal for conversations on potentially risky topics, such as queerness, abortion, organizing counter-actions, protests—anything that might be used against you.
stay anonymous online. if you want to research or report something without surveillance, do not use regular internet. get a vpn (mullvad is affordable and reliable), download the tor browser (for both onion and standard links), and if you plan to whistleblow, consider using a riseup email account.
organize and build networks. community is everything now. support each other, foster independence, because your government won’t have your back. set up collectives, grassroots movements. create lists of trusted professionals—lawyers, doctors, etc.—who can offer support.
to lawyers and doctors: please consider pro-bono work. this is what got us through poland’s hardest times. your work will be needed now more than ever.
for protests or risky actions: always write a pro-bono lawyer’s number on your arm with a permanent marker.
get to know the anarchist black cross federation and other resources on safety culture: "Starting an anarchist black cross group: A guide"; Still We Rise - A resource pack for transgender and non-gender conforming people in prison; Safe OUTside the system by the Audre Lorde Project;
for safe abortion info or involvement: get familiar with womenhelpwomen.
stay radical, stay strong, stay informed: The Anarchist Library
if i forgot to (or didn't) include something, don't hesitate to reblog this post with other resources.
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moonchild9350 ¡ 18 days ago
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Firsts
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Summary: Hyunjin reminisces on all of your 'firsts' together as a couple.
Pairing: nonidol!Hyunjin x fab!reader
Genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: time jumps, kissing, hand job, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), mention of birth control, creampie, Hyunjin is in love lol
Notes: just wanted to write another fic from Hyunjin's pov! this was supposed to be short but here we are lol
If you enjoyed please consider a comment, reblog, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡
Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. Šmoonchild9350 (2024)
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Firsts are scary. At least that is what Hyunjin thought wholeheartedly, that is until he met you. You with your cheery demeanor, your kind heart and lust for life. He loves your beauty, your body, your everything, but he also loves who you are on the inside.
Over the last year you’ve both shared many firsts with each other, each time they occur giving him butterflies deep within as if it’s the first time you’ve met.
— —
Hyunjin was nervous for your first date, the jitters getting the best of him as he checked his hair in the mirror for the millionth time. His heart was pounding within his chest, so hard he thought it was going to burst.
He picked out flowers for you earlier in the day, unsure of what you’d like. Maybe the roses? But also what about the carnations? He spent so long staring at the two options that the clerk came by to make sure he was okay asking if he needed any help.
In the end he chose the roses, sticking to a safe choice. He carefully cared for them home, making sure not to crush the delicate petals, their floral scent traveling to his nose causing him to smile. He kept them in water until it was time to pick you up, the stems dripping all over the floor and ultimately his pants staining them.
Hyunjin felt embarrassed at the stain, convinced you would slam the door in his face, tsking that he was a mess. However, you did the exact opposite, your squeal of delight reaching his ears, which turned a bright red in response. You whisked the flowers from his hands, setting them in a vase of water before following him outside.
He took you to dinner, at a cute little restaurant in town that you had been gushing about. He found it easy to chat with you, the conversation flowing nonstop. He made sure to listen to all of your likes and dislikes, wanting to learn more about you which was easy to do since it was you.
You both enjoyed your meal, staying for the cheesecake and that extra glass of wine, your hearts wildly beating at the prospect of other dates to come.
But all good things must come to an end, the night wrapping up way too soon. Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment in the warm night air, the city slowing down as people hurried home. He’d hope to see you again as he wanted to shower you with affection and treat you the way you deserve.
Hyunjin looked forward to more firsts with you, the concept not as scary as it seemed before
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Not long after your first date, he took you to movie , as you had a love for films just like him. It was an older film, repurposed for the modern theater, one you both enjoyed and discussed many times over a late night chat.
The theater in town was old, the building itself a time capsule of when it was built in the early beginnings of the sleepy town.
You both sat in the red chairs, looking at each other as you blushed and giggled, each of you a nervous wreck. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, so he quickly looked away and focused on the screen, watching the ads that were playing.
Soon, the lights dimmed and the film began. He couldn’t stop looking at you from the corner of his eye, trying to catch a glimpse of you as you focused straight ahead. His heart was beating, his thigh bouncing up and down as he tried to pay attention to the film.
If he thought he was nervous then nothing could have prepared him for how nervous he would be watching you creep your hand to rest on the armrest separating you two.
Your hand rested there delicately, your perfectly manicured nails on display. His palms were clammy, as beads of sweat prickled at his forehead. He tried to subtly wipe his hands off on his pants, hoping you wouldn’t see.
Suddenly, you looked his way, his head turning to meet your eyes. You gave him a smile, butterflies fluttering in his chest at your beauty. He looked at your hand, now facing palm up and back to your eyes. You gave him another reassuring smile before wiggling your fingers teasingly.
Before he could overthink his actions, he quickly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before resting his palm on top of yours. You giggled quietly before lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze once settled.
Hyunjin was over the moon, a smile gracing his face as he turned to face the screen again. There was incessant pounding of his heart in his chest, as he held your hand in his, not believing that this was happening.
He found he couldn’t focus on the film, his thoughts on how your tiny hand fit in his perfectly, almost like two puzzle pieces finding their home together. He thought of how he could feel your pulse, the thump thump radiating off his skin. If he could feel your heart beat, could you feel his and how it ached for you?
His mind was a flurry of thoughts as he barely paid attention to the film, not even noticing it was over until the very end when you sweetly said his name, the sound sweet like honey to his ears.
He blushed, feeling embarrassed at his mishap.
“Ready then?” He asked you, squeezing your hand in his.
“Mmhmm I am,” you said, your eyes locked on him.
Hyunjin chatted with you about the film as you both walked down the sidewalk, your chatter warming his heart, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The street lamps set a yellow glow, illuminating the way as you passed others on their way to a destination only they know.
Stopping at a street corner, he takes a deep breath, his eyes gazing at you through his periphery. You stand there with your hands at your side, your gaze straight ahead.
Hyunjin desperately wants to touch you, feel your warm hand in his once more. He wants to feel how your fingers lightly brush against his as they bend and fold to rest upon his.
Would you pull your hand away if he reached out to grab ahold of it?
He thinks and thinks, his teeth biting his bottom lip as he ponders at what he should do. You’ve held hands in the theater, but it was dark inside and not as…as public. He’s not sure why he’s this nervous. It’s you, the love of his life, the sweet girl who bumped into him at the cafe down the street from your house. And of course you just met, but he feels as if he’s known you his whole life.
Taking a breath, he builds the courage to reach down and grab your hand, right as the signal to walk changes from red to white. He looks at you, his eyebrows raised as you stare up at him in shock, your cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of red.
“I’m…I’m sorry…”
Hyunjin was cut off by your hand squeezing his.
“Don’t be sorry, I like this Hyun,” you responded, your face spreading into a smile.
Hyunjin nodded his head and smiled back, his dimple popping up on his cheek. He shook his head in resolve and started walking with you by his side. He couldn’t believe something as simple as holding your hand could make him feel this way, as if he had just won the lottery and was the luckiest man alive. He’d make sure to remember this moment for the rest of his life that’s for sure
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Your relationship progressed, both of you comfortably falling into each other’s routines, your two paths merging as if it was always meant to be.
You both opted for an at home date, agreeing to cook dinner together. Hyunjin never cooked before he met you, opting to fill his stomach with take out from the local restaurants. When you found out his diet was not the best, you flipped, shrieking how he needed proper nutrients and that you would take care of his meals.
That was the start of you cooking and bringing his meals to his home, making sure he ate properly each day. He blushed as you fussed over the containers, unloading them one by one from your bag. You explained when to eat what and what each item was, as you scurried across his kitchen.
Eventually, he suggested that you come over and show him how to cook basic meals, so that way you didn’t have to make extra portions.
This suggestion led to both of you elbow deep in dough, as you showed him how to make bread, your arms flexing as you carefully kneaded the dough. He watched in awe as you worked, little droplets of sweat dripping down the side of your face.
Hyunjin didn’t realize he was staring until you asked him a question as you used the back of your arm to wipe the sweat off your face.
“Hyun!” You said, giggling as he shook his head to break out of his reverie.
“What did you ask?” Hyunjin replied sheepishly, his hands reaching for anything in his reach.
You chuckled and bumped against his arm, “I asked if you had any questions so far?”
Hyunjin had many questions as he wasn’t paying attention to your instructions, but he didn’t want to dishearten you so he said no and continued to knead the dough that was in front of him.
You both worked in comfortable silence with soft music playing in the background. Hyunjin watched as you reached into the bag of flower, grasping a finger full. You were about to throw it on the counter so the dough wouldn’t stick, but at the last second you flicked your wrist towards him, the flour flying through the air and landing on his face.
Hyunjin let out a shriek, your cackles filling the kitchen as you doubled over clutching your stomach. Hyunjin chuckled, reached into the flour bag and grabbed a handful, launching it you.
An all out flour war began, both of you leaping and dodging each other, flour flying everywhere, the powder floating gently through the air. Your clothes were splattered with the white substance, as you pelted each other. Hyunjin’s deep laughter mixed your tinkling sound, the cacophony resonating throughout the little kitchen.
Hyunjin watched as you grabbed another hand full of flour, but just as you were about to launch it at him, you slipped on the powder littering the floor, your arms flailing forwards. You shrieked and drop towards the floor, your hands reaching out to grab onto anything you could.
He quickly reached out his hands and caught you, cradling you gently within his ams. You both were breathing heavy, your chests rapidly rising and falling, little puffs of air coming from your lips as you both stood there in silence.
Hyunjin helped you stand back up, his hands traveling down your arms. He gazed down at you, his eyes catching yours. You looked beautiful, your cheeks flushed with specks of flour, wisps of your hair falling into your face.
Hyunjin’s breath caught as his gaze drifted to your lips, his mind wandering how they would feel on his. It’s not the first time he’s thought this, the idea floating around his head late at night as he laid in bed, his hand drifting to his cock that seems to always be hard during the night hours as he thinks of you.
Your eyes widen, your pupils dilating as you waited in anticipation for his next move. Time seemed to stand still as Hyunjin took a breath and gently cupped your chin, gently tipping your head up.
Leaning down, he slowly closed the gap between you two until he could feel your breath on him. There was a pause as you both stood together, his hand on your chin, his forehead against yours. Closing the final distance, your lips collided. Your lips were soft on his as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, your torso until they reached your waist.
Hyunjin could hear fireworks going off within his head and he smiled at the cliche thought, as he continued to move his lips against yours. He shivered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he continued to kiss you gently but passionately.
Just when he thought he’d run out of oxygen, you pulled away partially, a string of spit connecting your two lips, as you fought to catch your breath. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours and let out a chuckle as you smiled, your fingers softly carding through his hair.
You both stood there gazing at each other, your lips pressing together again and again in breathy exchange. The night went on, the dough forgotten as you embraced each other, listening to the sound of your hearts beating and the sound of the soft notes of a piano flowing throughout the room.
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“Let’s watch a movie baby,” you cooed, snuggling closer to him, your head nuzzling into his chest.
You both were in your bed, spending a lazy day together. Hyunjin loved being in your room, being surrounded by your scent, with the presence of your interests scattered throughout the room. He pulled you closer, chuckling as you squeaked at the sudden movement.
Your legs were wrapped around his, your hand on his belly as he lightly brushed his fingertips down your spine. Hyunjin has dreamed of a moment like this for weeks, wanting you within his arms, the promise of more lingering in the air.
And that’s exactly how the night went. He remembers lowering you on your back, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your big brown eyes staring up at him.
He pressed wet kisses all over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, his cock swelling at the sound of your sweet moans as he worshipped your body. He found himself grinding into you, his cock meeting your core with each pass, strangled moans leaving his lips.
Hyunjin held his breath as you rid yourself of your shirt, tossing it away before settling back onto the pillow. He swallowed as you fondled your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples looking at him with a hooded gaze.
“Touch me,” you breathed, your lips parted as you watched his every move.
He grasped your breasts, cupping the flesh as his fingers brushed and tugged against your nipples. He listened to your moans, his eyes widening as you arched into his touch, your hands reaching out to meet his. Hyunjin reveled in how they felt perfect within the palm of his hand, soft and plushy, his mind reeling at the feel of them.
He groaned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, your back arching into him as he licked and sucked, his other hand massaging your other breast. He felt euphoric, waves of pleasure traveling through his body as he pleasured you.
Releasing your nipple with a pop, he hurriedly rid himself of his boxers, his cock slapping against his belly at the force and pre cum oozing from his tip. He took in your gaze, as you licked your lips at the sight of his member, your hands reaching out to encircle his length.
He whimpered as you slid your hand against his shaft, your palm coming up to circle the head over and over. His mouth was wide open as he shuddered in pleasure, his hips slightly thrusting up into your hand. You stroked him harder, faster, your eyes trained on him, a smirk forming on your face as you watched him fall apart above you.
“Can’t…stop love,” Hyunjin breathed, his hand reaching out to gently remove yours from his cock. “Need to be in you. Will you let me have you?” He asked with hope in your eyes.
He groaned out as you parted your legs more, displaying your wet pussy to him.
“Of course baby,” you cooed as you reached down to part your folds so your leaking entrance was on display.
Hyunjin grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it at your hole. He was about to push in when he stopped, hesitating to proceed.
You looked up at him curiously as you asked, “why’d you stop?”
Hyunjin cleared his throat, his eyes roaming up your body until they landed on your brown orbs.
“I um…I don’t have a condom,” he replied, his eyes cast downward at the implications of not being able to have you.
However, he perked up when you responded, a wide smile on your face.
“I’m on birth control, so we don’t need one if you don’t mind.”
He felt his heart flutter, his cock twitching at the thought of not only having you for the first time but also bare. He gripped his cock harder and brushed his tip through your folds, the head catching on your clit before trailing back down to your entrance.
He pushed within you, his eyes trained on your pussy as your warm walls engulfed him like a hug. He faltered slightly, letting out a breath as the pleasure was too overwhelming. You were so wet, the slide easy as he pushed further within you.
He groaned as you whimpered, spreading your legs wider so you could watch where you two were connected. Hyunjin began thrusting his hips into you, his breath stuttering as your pussy clenched around him, holding him in.
He wasn’t going to last long, the feeling of you, the smell of you, even the sound of you being too overwhelming. He quickly attached his lips to yours as he brought his hand to your clit, sloppily circling the bud to get you to your high.
He could feel you shivering beneath him, your hands clawing at his back as he pounded into you. His face was buried in your neck, your lips at his ear whispering the most dirty things, causing him to groan.
You continuously clenched around him, your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him tight, your legs wrapping around his thighs pulling him deeper within you.
You whined his name, whimpering “don’t stop” over and over.
You were driving him insane.
He was moments away from claiming you, his cock swelling at the thought of getting to fill you with his seed. His hips stuttered as his cock twitched within your walls, his mind a mess as he couldn’t think straight.
You lifted his head and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the action tipping him over the edge, reaching that euphoria he has only experienced within the confines of his room or in his dreams.
It was better than he could imagine, causing him to whimper as his cum filled you within. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you gasped as you reached your high, the rhythmic contraction of your walls milking him dry.
Hyunjin swallowed your moans, his body caging yours as he lazily rocked into you, riding out both of your highs.
He let out a shaky breath before pulling back, taking in your sweaty body beneath his, the clear sheen coating every inch of your skin. He withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy, your walls contracting at the emptiness and pushing out the white liquid.
“I love you,” you whispered as you gazed up at him, a soft smile gracing your face.
Hyunjin felt his heart swell at the confession, his love for you expanding by the second.
You loved him.
He mouthed the words before running a hand through his hair.
You loved him.
Looking down at you lovingly, he pushed your hair back from your face, his eyes taking in the afterglow. He licked his lips and kissed you before laying down next to you and pulling you close.
“I love you.” He repeated, meaning every word as it left his mouth.
— —
Yeah firsts are scary. Hyunjin has never liked them. However, he doesn’t mind sharing firsts with you, the love of his life.
He remembers that as you descend the steps, dressed in a beautiful little black dress, your hair carefully fixed and makeup done to perfection.
Here Hyunjin is celebrating yet another first with you, your first anniversary, and he could not be happier and more satisfied.
You are his first but also his last.
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Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground
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solar-wing ¡ 9 months ago
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⚣ Protective Lover 🥰
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⚣✋🏻 A/N → Another idea partly inspired off one of my previous Jason posts. Dude is the definition of scary dog privilege. "and my man, thank you to my man." WARNINGS: Jealous/Possessive Behavior. Minor Swearing and Threats of Violence. Cute Fluff.
⚣✋🏻 Summary → It's no secret: Jason is a jealous and possessive boyfriend. But, many don't think about the benefit that comes along with that. He's hella protective. Sometimes it's overbearing, other times, it's very helpful.
⚣✋🏻 Words → 1.4k
REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🥰
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At some point, Y/N had gotten used to it. Was it annoying? Yes. Did it feel overbearing at times? Countless. Did he secretly love it and felt the world’s most (concerning) validation from it? Absolutely.
But, when looking at the situation and its circumstances as a whole, it made sense.
When he and Jason first started dating, there was definitely a vibe of him being a gruff but soft teddy bear who was clingy and needy for love and attention when with his chosen lover. But, when around literally anyone else who was not said lover or other people were in the same room as his chosen mate, he’d turn into the world’s scariest guard dog.
It was the general rule of Scary Boyfriend Privilege. Only the designated boyfriend could see their boyfriend’s soft and needy side. Anyone outside that got the ‘murderous if you get too close’ grizzly bear side.
Extremely hot and sexy, but it could be a bit (a lot) much at times. 
Y/N tried to get Jason to calm down, always showing that he could take care of himself and there was no reason for him to worry. But, living in a city like Gotham and given the vigilante’s past (hence the aforementioned situation and circumstances), there really was no calming him down.
But let’s look on the bright side here. With said privilege and the kind of boyfriend Jason was, Y/N never felt more safe and secure in his life. It was like walking around a video game world with the most overpowered gear on. He was basically untouchable.
Examples? Why, of course!
When it came to school, Y/N always preferred studying and doing his homework with Jason since he would help him stay focused and assist him with subjects that he struggled with. 
Y/N was not the first but certainly the loudest to say that Jason did not get enough credit for how smart he was. Yeah, he typically lived by street smarts, but he was big on book smarts as well. He just had to learn how to communicate the information in ways where it wasn’t confusing for both him and his boyfriend.
Plus, in dating Y/N, he learned the art and benefits of positive reinforcement which anyone could probably imagine taking a magnifying glass to their relationship, it was something the Y/N had to use a lot for Jason. Now, the vigilante was doing the same for his boyfriend by giving him little rewards for finishing his work and getting good grades like take-out dates, letting him play in his hair, and more often than not, a good dic-
PAUSE
Oh for fucks sake, are we doing this again? Why does it have to be PG-13? Well, no one said– Ugh…Fine.
A good fitness workout that involved lots of cardio, sweating, and soreness, but the good kind.
Happy?
But, the week of midterms turned out to be an equally busy week for Jason as well. He was knee-deep in a big crime plot and was getting closer and closer to solving the case. Y/N understood and didn’t want to get in the way of his boyfriend's duties. It still sucked though because it meant he wouldn’t be able to study in his apartment as he’d find way too many ways to get distracted. So, he had no choice but to study on campus, and figured what better place than the library?
Turns out there could have been better places.
Y/N was sitting at a large table by himself with various books in front of him along with his tablet and laptop reviewing his notes for a huge test he had the next morning. He wasn’t the only one who had the idea of going to the library to study as it was packed full of students trying to do last-minute cramming and studying.
Jason, as usual, called him to make sure he was okay and that he had gotten to the library safely even though Y/N was well aware his boyfriend had many different ways of tracking him and making sure he was where he was supposed to be. At first, he found it creepy, but when he got to know Jason’s family, he understood.
When Jason didn’t hang up the phone long after Y/N had already sat down and began reviewing, he decided he wasn’t going to hang up either, feeling more relaxed and calm while hearing his boyfriend’s voice and breathing through his earphones.
Now and then, Jason would call his name and check to make sure he was focusing and not slacking off or scrolling on social media and Y/N would turn and scold him for trying to check him when he should have been focused on fighting criminals.
“That’s the thing, babe. I can focus on more than two tasks at the same time. You, on the other hand, still can’t manage to focus on one task for more than 10 minutes without getting distracted by something else like your favorite song and flooding our apartment.”
“I told you to let the bathtub thing go!” Y/N whispered loudly into his earbud mic with a goofy smile on his face still.
“I will never let the bathtub thing go.”
They continued their playful back and forth while Y/N continued studying until he was interrupted by another student, a guy from one of his history classes. This guy was more or less a bit annoying and creepy and had been bothering Y/N for a while with his persistent quest to ask him out.
No matter how many times he rejected him, the guy always tried again and again. He never got forceful, or at least he never had the chance since Y/N always made sure there were people around or that he got to an area where other people were nearby just in case he tried something.
He wasn’t judging him, but he took Jason’s words and lessons very seriously when it came to his safety. He’d seen enough of his boyfriend’s cases where people didn’t take the necessary steps to keep themselves protected and safe because they didn’t imagine it would ‘go that far.’
The creep only left him alone when he saw Jason was with him. Truthfully, many people tended to steer clear of Y/N and his massively scary boyfriend whenever he was with them on campus besides his friends. They were even put off by Jason at times whenever they hung out with their friend cause they’d catch him at times giving them weird looks and glares if they touched or just got too close to his boyfriend for his liking.
Plus, after the one incident of the guy who tried to pick a fight with Y/N and pushed him, thus having to deal with Jason in the aftermath, everyone learned it was just better to steer clear.
So, when Jason wasn’t anywhere in sight, Y/N’s creepy stalker saw it as a perfect moment for him to try and make a move on his classmate, not expecting the very person he was hoping to avoid being on the phone the entire time.
It wasn’t until he saw Y/N unplug his earphones and hand him his phone that he realized he was indeed on a call, and after receiving possibly the most violently worded threat he had ever heard he decided there were plenty of other fish in the sea.
He handed the phone over to its owner before scurrying off like a scared mouse, Y/N watching with a confused but also amused and relieved look.
“Hi baby,” Jason immediately responded to Y/N’s ‘hello’ in his little delightful and excited tone whenever he heard his boyfriend’s voice.
“Jason, what did you say to him?” Y/N immediately asked.
“Hey! It’s babe, baby, sexy, honey, or Jay at the slightest to you, mister. Only my family calls me that.”
“Jason…”
“Babeee, stop it! I don’t consent to this treatment. No means no!” Jason protested in a whiny voice.
“You’re such a baby,” Y/N chuckled.
“Only for you, hot stuff. But we’ll be having a long talk when I get home about you not telling me about creepy guys bothering you.”
“How did you know?”
“Babe, you know who you’re dating, right? There never will be something that bothers you that I won’t know about. I’m always gonna protect you, even if it annoys the hell out of you.”
Y/N couldn’t stop the big smile spreading across his face at his boyfriend’s words, knowing he meant every single one. Jason would always be his protective lover.
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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fallingsatellive ¡ 3 months ago
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“It’s obviously valid to be bugkin but you also can’t just expect people to get over it when they have a genuine fear!”
I’m afraid of dogs.
Dogs put me extremely on edge. I avoid them while outside and if one’s in a room with me I’ll try to leave or else start to panic. Especially medium-sized and larger breeds. Mere images of dogs may not give me a panic attack, I will admit that, it's not a phobia. But if you want to talk hypocrisy, if you're opening up that discussion:
Hey dog therians, dog otherhearted folks and clinical cynanthropes, what if everywhere you went, the unspoken attitude of the alterhuman community was—
Don’t post dog photos or talk about being a dog in the main alterhuman tags. Don’t talk about your shifts, your instincts, or your kind in the main tags. If you’re a CZ, don’t talk so openly about your biological reality. It’s extremely triggering for people with cynophobia. The idea of physically being or becoming a dog grosses them out to briefly think about, so try not to discuss your literal existence. If you must, at least trigger tag yourself with #tw dogs or #tw dog mention so people can stay safe by censoring things that will hurt their mental health. It’s okay if you’re dogkin but in my DNI I'm going to write something like, don’t follow me if your blog hosts too many graphic close-up images of dogs doing dog things, even if you censor them. Don’t add dog photos to open posts in the alterhuman tags, you have no idea who might be sent into a panic attack by images of yourself so you should play it safe and only put them on your own posts. And stop being so offended by people who comment on posts about pet dogs or dog facts saying they want to bleach their eyes or kill it with fire, they can’t help having a phobia.
Not great, is it? Fortunately, and I do genuinely mean that, this is a sentiment you will only see once, on this post, completely satirically. Except it’s just a real sentiment for bug therians/hearted and other invertebrate alterhumans. Of course what I said was satire. But if it pissed you off when you thought it might not be, please, contemplate on that reaction, really spend some time on it.
Also, if you're wondering what I mean by "other invertebrate alterhumans", (and I'm sorry for how heated I got when I was writing this part last night even after editing it down)
You know I’m a bug zoanthrope too, not just a bird? And see above if you're wondering why I never said shit about it, just said I was a centipede therian and even then said I was just questioning and didn't really talk much about it. Am I allowed to talk about it without tagging it #tw body horror, even though I obviously don’t fucking find my own body to be horror? Can I talk about it without tagging it #tw bugs like just the very thing that I am needs to be censored for people's well-being? I'm sorry if I come across judgmental. Offline I constantly interact with people saying they’re a nature lover but centipedes are the only thing on Earth that they still hate. And I have to come online knowing that any of those people could be bloggers in the alterhuman tags and it’s my responsibility to tiptoe around them. “Because centipedes are scary and disgusting.” Because I’m scary and disgusting. My brain is not capable of hearing a difference and I can’t change that. It is so much my reality that it's the same emotional mix of anger and anxiety and hurt that would be (has been, lol) triggered by someone ranting about how much they hate Jews or trans people to me.
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wosoamazing ¡ 7 months ago
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Newest Signing
Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.
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Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.
She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.
"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."
Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.
"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.
_____
You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.
"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."
"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."
"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."
You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.
_____
You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.
"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.
"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"
"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.
"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.
"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.
You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.
After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.
"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.
"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.
"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.
____
You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.
From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.
To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.
You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.
"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.
"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.
---
It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.
"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.
"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.
From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?
To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.
From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?
To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.
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throneofsapphics ¡ 5 months ago
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finding you again, part two
Azriel x f!Reader
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summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn’t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it
warnings: violence, injuries, war
a/n: if anyone wants to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
series masterlist
Azriel barely remembered making it to the healing tent. 
It must’ve been a hallucination, surely you wouldn’t have healed him. You’d call for someone else to do it. 
“Stay safe spymaster,” you’d said with that wicked smirk on your face, “and do it far away from me, won’t you?” 
He’d let you get the last word in. Maybe because it pleased you, maybe because he was too caught up staring at you. 
Still, the features he’d tried to memorize those months ago loomed over him, pretty eyes glimmering with worry. 
“Come on, Azriel,” you half-snarled. “I’ll be pissed if you don’t make it.” 
“You have horrible bedside manner,” the words rasped from his throat.
“Get some water,” he didn’t know who you called, but he both heard and felt the pure relief in your voice. Next thing, you were tipping his chin, fingers cold against his skin, cool water sliding down his throat. 
“He’ll be fine,” you said, withdrawing as quickly as possible. Azriel’s vision was still swarming, but Cassian helped him sit. He caught sight of your back, ducking under the tent flap, back out towards the carnage. 
-
Madja was busy, and you hadn’t hesitated when your High Lord’s voice slipped into your mind, ordering you to a specific tent. Your stomach had dropped when you saw him. Not because of the gore, because it was Azriel, knocking on death's door hovering right on the brink of an unconsciousness that would put him in a coma. Perhaps not your neatest work, but he would survive.
Rhysand was probably aware of your shared history, and it made you even more surprised he let you near him. 
You shook the thought of him, of the Inner Circle, from your mind and faced the hoards of injured and dying again, scanning for the most critically injured. There was plenty of work to do. 
Pace yourself, you remembered Madja’s teachings on battlefield healing, and your own experience. Ration your magic, use only what’s necessary. They’ll survive a scar.
Time had no meaning as you worked, hours passed with countless patients, the sun fell and rose, and you could barely stand on your own two feet. 
“Take a rest,” a familiar voice, and a hand squeezing your shoulder. 
You shook it off. “There’s more to do.” 
“You can’t help anyone if you pass out,” he said mildly. 
Pivoting to face him, your face tightened. “And people will die if I can’t help them.” 
If you had more energy, you would’ve squirmed under his scrutiny. “At least eat something.” 
“Fine,” you spit out, and headed to the tent the healers stayed in, on the outskirts of camp, hoping he wouldn’t follow.  
He had, of course, as you emerged with an apple between your teeth, a few strips of dried meat in a recently cleaned hand, he was standing outside. Somehow, the area was regretfully empty. 
“I don’t need a minder,” you told him. “Go rest.” 
“Hypocritical.” 
“You’ll ruin my hard work.” 
His eyes flashed. Amusement or ire, you reminded yourself not to care, reminded yourself again as he left without a look back. He was getting in your head again. If you survived this war, if your world survived it, you’d flee far far away. 
-
It was dark, he should be sleeping, but instead he slid through the shadows, searching through the camp for … for you. His shadows told him everything, but he felt the need to set his eyes on you, like if he looked away for too long you’d disappear. 
“You can’t stay?” you asked. His eyes scanned you, white sheet barely covering the top of your breasts, the slight look of disappointment on his face. Azriel needed to be up early, and he knew if he spent another minute here, he’d be late and have too many questions to answer. 
Instead, he kissed your forehead, “another time,” he promised, unsure if he could actually keep it, and slipped out the door. 
The memory came to him out of nowhere, the desire to go back and change that moment strong and unexpected. He forced it from his mind, there was no going back, and you’d made that perfectly clear. 
As soon as he’d caught a glimpse of you, he retreated to make an effort to get some sleep - it’s what you’d want him to do. 
-
You moved with the armies, went where you were ordered, healed whoever needed healing, and most of all - kept your head down.
Maybe a few days, maybe a week had passed, but when Azriel appeared, one hand pulling the tent flap back, you didn’t have the energy to rebuke him. 
An exhausted wave of your hand, you let him in, and turned to pile over the notes in front of you. Letters bent and blended, and the heavy blinks to try and return them to legible words failed. 
Footsteps, loud enough to make sure you were aware of his position, slowing as they reached. Twisting barely over your shoulder, his thumb pressed against your chin, turning you forwards, to gaze at his shadow cast against the tent wall - now encompassing your own. 
Featherlight brushes against the skin of your neck, goosebumps down your spine, rough thumbs run circles in all of your trigger points. Decades ago, he’d done this nearly every time you met, always without asking, and somehow still knew all of the right places.
A low moan escaped slightly parted lips as he dug into where your shoulder and neck met. The fingers paused, but gods the exhaustion must’ve been truly driving you out of your mind, because you covered his hand with your own, encouraging him to resume. 
A low chuckle, and he did.
The next hours were something of a fever dream. Your bed was hardly large enough for two - especially for a pair of wings, but you managed to lay side by side, both fully clothed. Occasionally, his hand would bump into yours, and vice versa. 
The only noise inside the tent was your steady breaths, the two of you finding solace in the silence of each other's company. In that silence, you convinced yourself it was a dream, or a ridiculous hallucination. 
But, when you woke in the morning - alone, the usual tightness in your neck was missing, and familiar hints of cedar and night chilled mist filled the space. You were well aware he owed you nothing, but waking alone, not even a note, left you feeling used - you scoffed at the word - he’d given you a massage after all, if anything you were the one using him. 
 Whatever game he was playing with you, you wanted no part of it. Even if it wasn’t a game, even if he was just searching for some comfort during the chaos, it wasn’t you. He could find another source. The night only tightened your resolve to stay away from him. 
You were not called to heal him, nor any other members of the Inner Circle, again - to your relief. Just once, you saw him in passing, and averted your gaze, melted into the crowd before you could be noticed. 
The war ended, and you heard the stories of sacrifice, of the loss and gain of life, and thanked the mother with each one, but all you had eyes for was the rows and rows of males and females in varying shades of misery front of you. 
-
“Madja,” you called just loud enough to catch the healer's attention. She held up her hand in acknowledgement. The moments dragged as you watched her movements, the careful and measured expenditure of her magic, the efficient bandaging and applying of herbs.
As soon as she’d finished, she met your eyes. As always, her gaze stripped you bare and you wondered what she saw, before deciding you didn’t want to know. Her chin jerked towards the water basin, and you dutifully followed. You’d received her summons just minutes ago. 
“Back by the border,” she started - the location of the last battle, you noted, “there’s a medical camp in need of a seasoned healer. Although we can hardly spare you,” she sighed, “they asked and their need, believe it or not, is equal if not greater than ours.” 
“The ratio?” You asked, steeling yourself. 
“About fifty,” she gave you a look that said she didn’t envy you. 
“Then I better get going,” your mouth curved at the corners. After all, there was nothing keeping you here. 
You were fresh off a few hours of mandated rest and a good meal, and knew you had enough energy to winnow and get to work as soon as you arrived. It took mere minutes to pack the few things you brought, to tuck whatever supplies Madja could spare into a pocket space. You didn’t give yourself time to evaluate the weight that left your chest as you departed. 
-
When the chaos and politics surrounding the final battle ebbed, he looked for you. His shadows searched every inch of the blood soaked ground, tent, hidden crevice, but you were gone. Swallowing pride, he asked Madja, who only said you were dispatched elsewhere, and fixed him with a quizzing look. His eyes cool and face an unreadable mask of stone, he let his shoulders rise and drop slightly. 
“I only wish to thank her.” 
Madja huffed, head shaking and turned away. It didn’t matter whether or not the healer believed his half-truth. 
Azriel had spared what time he could for you, and banished you to a back corner of his mind, tucked away with the other memories that ached an old part of him. Shadow cooling his neck, a slow exhale, and he focused back to the present, back on his priorities. He needed to keep you where you belonged, in his past.
taglist: @mellowarcadefun @acourtofbatboydreams @sheblogs @macimads  @sirens-and-moonflowers @tele86 @kalulakunundrum @anxious-study @mika-no-sekai-blog @judig92  @randomperson1234sblog @fightmedraco @caraaaaugh @thelov3lybookworm @tothestarsandwhateverend @fxckmiup @scatteredstardustt @tooweirdtolive-toorareto-die @redcap3girl @boygeniuses10 @anuttellaa @aunicornmademedoit @inloveallthetime @florencemtrash @juniperberriesaries @azriels-shadowsinger @mybestfriendmademe @prettylittlewrites @bubybubsters @emryb @blessthepizzaman
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hanafubukki ¡ 1 year ago
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You laughed as the little fairy kissed you on the nose.
You had little friends surrounding you as you pick berries in the garden.
You had offered your help to the kitchen staff while you stayed at the castle Malleus called home.
You wanted to help out in anyway you could while your boyfriend was busy with his duties.
It gave you something to do and you got to know the other fae around you better.
“Cease! That berry is not perfect enough to be consumed by Lord Malleus!”
…it also gave you great entertainment too.
You watched as Sebek and another fairy had…an interesting talk. The little one loves the expressions Sebek made and continues to try and get a rise out of him.
Sebek, though he would never admit it, chose to be your personal guard.
He was one of your best friends and he wanted you to be safe in this castle full of magic.
You knew no one would dare touch you, being as you were protected by powerful figures, but you knew there were people who lacked common sense out there too.
A sound of bells reached your ears, as another little one dropped a strawberry in your basket. You cuddled the little fae in thanks, her giggling and hugging back in response.
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"It seems the fae of Briar Valley have already accepted your future Queen, Malleus."
Malleus and Lilia gazed out the window. Silver a couple steps behind them.
"It seems so."
While Malleus seemed calm and collected on the outside, Lilia and Silver could see the glimmer in Malleus' eyes and the slight smile on his face. They could see how he leans slightly towards the window.
As if you were the center of his universe, and he but a moon that follows your orbit.
"When are you going to ask?" Lilia knowingly questioned.
"Tonight." Malleus' smile widened as your infectious laugh reached his ears. Lyrics to a song he sang many years passed came to mind.
I dreamed so dazzlingly of the love we'd share
Please guide me, light, to the future
Malleus looked forward to the future, with you by his side.
Because how could it be anything but a bright one?
With you to guide him, as you always have.
A future filled with happiness.
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irisintheafterglow ¡ 4 months ago
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heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: sabrina carpenter - "please please please"
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summary: a school assignment leads you to team bofurin. a chance meeting in the cafe leads you to umemiya. where else will furin high lead you over the course of 5 days?
wc: 7.5k (lord have mercy)
cw/tags: umemiya hajime x gn journalist!reader, strangers to lovers, swearing/explicit language, brief canon-typical violence, blood, and peril, angst/fluff and injury hurt/comfort, ume's a gentleman but that gets tested lol
note: friends this is the longest thing i have ever posted here and i was really debating not posting it because i didn't like how it was turning out, but then i just pushed through the rest of it...and it became 7 thousand words.....ANYWAY really hope you enjoy !
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <33
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— Day 1 of 5: “Please, please, please // Don’t prove I’m right” 
A glass bottle shatters on the sidewalk below you, shadowy figures scattering into dark alleyways like rats. You grimace at their sadistic laughter and silently thank your host for not living on the ground-level. The sound of a shaking spray paint can echoes in the empty street and you watch a messy hot pink insignia appear as it's drawn on a shop window. Damn. This was going to be a long five days. 
“Wait, you want me to do what?” 
“You’ll be staying with a high school friend of mine who owns a store in the area,” your journalism teacher continues, quickly scanning over a student’s document and grading it without blinking. She swipes to the next document, mechanically repeating the same process of grading it and moving on. She doesn’t stop to see the shock on your face.
“Ma’am, I don’t know–”
“You’ll be fine, just stick to the populated areas and don’t go out at night. If you want to, you could even befriend some of those Furin kids,” she says as she absentmindedly clicks away at her keyboard. “It’ll be good for you to report on something other than the mathletes team, for once.” At least the mathletes are safe, you think to yourself. A little awkward, but nowhere near the delinquents at Furin.
“Hold on, may I ask why I’m the one doing this?” You wring your hands nervously, glancing at the afternoon sun sinking outside the classroom window. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me–” 
“You want the full-ride scholarship, don’t you?” Her eyes are beady through the thin rims of her glasses. You fight the urge to shrink away from her piercing gaze, one that you never become accustomed to no matter how many times you’re subject to it. “Trust me when I tell you that the judges will not care how many times the mathletes lost, no matter how eloquently you write about it.” You let your skepticism show on your face. 
“But they’ll care about a bunch of boys that get into fights every day?” If she cares about your deadpanned comment, she doesn’t acknowledge it. 
“My friend told me once or twice that there’s more to those Furin boys than meets the eye,” she says before turning back to her screen. Your confusion is still obvious, but the only help your teacher gives you is an indifferent shrug. “It’s up to you. But if you want a competitive edge, you need to take more risks.” You exhale, weighing your options and ultimately deciding that your career was more important. 
“When do I start?” 
You begin your morning early on your first day in Makochi. After leaving your host’s apartment and staring at the graffiti-covered high school that was drowning in plant overgrowth, you abruptly turned on your heel and decided to observe the people on the busiest street. You had no interest in exploring Furin High School itself, only the effects of crime and constant fighting on the uninvolved citizens. You catch a group of boys wearing black jackets heading in the same direction as you and duck into the nearest cafe, hoping to wait them out and watch how they interact with the town. Across the street, the owners of the shop that was vandalized with the pink insignia scrub the paint from the glass. 
“Good morning.” A girl with short brown hair greets you behind the counter, gesturing for you to take a seat on one of the stools. You thank her and set your notebook down next to you, flipping through the menu when you feel her staring at you. “Are you new here?” 
“I’m in town for a few days,” you reply. Her demeanor is friendlier than you would expect from an area that sees so much violence. “I’m from one of the neighboring high schools.” The girl nods, placing a cup of water in front of you, along with a set of chopsticks. 
“Are you visiting family? We don’t get many visitors here, so I’m just wondering what a new face is doing in town,” she says, nodding when you point at the menu item you want for breakfast. 
“No family here; I’m actually studying the town for an assignment. My teacher thinks that if I write about this town, it’ll help me get a scholarship.” Her mouth opens in an ah of understanding and she ducks into the refrigerator to retrieve some eggs. An idea pops into your brain and you open your notebook. “While I’m here, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Furin High?”
“Sure. Bofurin members eat here all the time.” Your eyebrows draw together and, unlike your journalism teacher, she understands and addresses your lack of knowledge. “Bofurin is the team that protects this town. It’s made up entirely of students at Furin High School. Actually, it’s a little funny that you stopped into here today, of all places, since–” 
“Kotoha!” The door flies open and the same group of boys that were behind you on the sidewalk corral into the cafe, the space suddenly too small for the number of people present. The source of the voice, a tall guy with bright white hair and coattails attached to his jacket, approaches the girl behind the counter with a blinding smile. “Did you miss me?” 
“No,” Kotoha deadpans, sending you a sympathetic look as more boys file into the cafe. “I was gonna say that you chose the one day Umemiya treats all his underclassmen to breakfast. Umemiya’s the leader, the tall idiot I was just talking to.” You grimace and begin to jot down what little information you’d learned about Furin, covering the side of your face with your hand and hoping none of the students question why you were there. It’s wishful thinking, unfortunately. 
“Oi.” You’re snapped from your brainstorming daze by a boy whose hair and eyes were two different colors. He was watching you write like you were plotting how to demolish the high school and you curse your luck for the millionth time that you picked the one cafe the Bofurin team frequented. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“Sakura, you can’t just say that to strangers. Tell them you’re sorry,” Kotoha, the girl behind the counter, chides. The boy’s cheeks turn pink and he turns away, muttering what sounds like a half-assed apology to you. “Don’t mind him,” she says to you with a warm smile. “He’s terrible around new people.” Sakura’s face twists into indignation. 
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are. You got into a fight on your first day here, and school hadn’t even started yet,” points out another student with blonde hair sitting next to a boy wearing dangling earrings and an eyepatch. You’re quick to write down anything and everything you were hearing, picking up pieces of conversation from the tables around you. “Hey, what are you writing?” The question doesn’t come off as accusatory, but you shut your notebook anyways and guard it like a treasure chest. 
“It’s nothing. Just homework,” you force out. 
“Homework,” the boy with the eyepatch echoes. “So, you live around here?”
“They go to a neighboring highschool,” Kotoha explains before you have the chance to speak. “They’re actually here to study Bofurin.” All three boys turn to you expectantly, as if you were going to interview them on the spot. 
“I’m just here to observe,” you say quickly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m not here to interfere or get in your way or anything.” 
“Who said you would be getting in the way? I’m sure Umemiya wouldn’t mind–” 
“I wouldn’t mind what?” You jump, the same guy that called Kotoha’s name upon entering the cafe appearing like a ghost between you and the boys you were conversing with. “Have you three ordered yet? You need to eat! We have a big day today,” the person you assume is Umemiya instructs the boys. To your surprise, they’re quick to nod their assent and place their orders. “Good. Now, what was it I wasn’t going to mind?” 
“There’s someone here to study us,” the half-and-half haired kid mutters, pointing in your direction. Like before, the two other students scold him for his brashness. 
“Don’t say it like that, Sakura.” 
“It makes it sound like we’re animals in a documentary.” 
“Study us?” Umemiya ignores them and turns to you with a curious look. “Why?” Your face heats and you hastily close your notebook again, hoping that Kotoha would be done with your food soon so you could vacate the cafe and avoid it for the rest of your stay. 
“It’s for an assignment for school,” you reply hesitantly. 
“You don’t need to be so humble,” Kotoha calls over her shoulder from the stove. “You can tell them it’s for a scholarship.” The three boys next to Umemiya gape at you in awe, but you can’t help feeling the slightest bit embarrassed that you drew so much attention to yourself on your first day in town. You didn’t know much about the Furin boys except for their reputation as fighters, and you expected Umemiya to turn you away and kick you out on the spot. 
“I’ll be out of town in a few days, so you don’t need to–”
“You can shadow us.” What the hell did he just say? You blink at him, unsure if you hallucinated his words or if he actually said them. Umemiya’s face suddenly turns a shade redder and he turns to his three underclassmen, whispering uneasily, “That is the term for it, right?”
“I think so,” the blonde one whispers back. “Suo, you’re better with words. What does it–”
“You want them to follow you around and see how you guys work,” Kotoha says as she brings you your meal in a to-go container. “That’s what ‘shadowing’ means.” Umemiya thanks her with a thumbs-up before turning back to you. 
“What she said. Come with us as we go through our daily routines so you really understand what we do.” You start to stutter out a list of fake reasons why you couldn’t, something along the lines of getting in their way and needing to take a fish to the veterinarian. Umemiya doesn’t budge and sees through your nerves like glass. “You won’t be inconveniencing us at all, I promise. If anything, it’ll be good for more people to have an understanding of Bofurin.” 
“Yeah. If you just watch us from the outside, your writing’s not gonna be any good,” Sakura says bluntly. The two boys next to him flinch and cover their faces. 
“You should stop saying things like that, Sakura,” the boy with the eye-patch warns. 
“Like I said,” Kotoha mumbles in passing. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just like that.”
“So, what do you say?” Umemiya grins at you in a way that unwillingly makes your heart rate increase and, before your mind knows it, you’re nodding in agreement and he settles on the stool next to you. “Great! Before we start, do you mind if I ask you about yourself?”
—  Day 2 of 5: “I know I have good judgment // I know I have good taste”
It’s 7:00 am when Umemiya appears outside your door. 
“Good morning! Did you sleep well? I know yesterday was a lot, so hopefully we didn’t scare you too badly.” You rub your eyes and manage to give him a sleepy ‘good morning,’ trying to shake off the exhaustion after running around the previous day with Bofurin. The moon was hanging high by the time Umemiya dropped you off at your host’s apartment and you thought you were hearing things when he said he’d be back in the morning to pick you up. “We’re not gonna have time to stop by the cafe, so I picked up something for you to eat.” You open the small paper bag he hands you to find a pastry wrapped in a napkin, slightly squashed from the walk. “Do you have everything?” 
“Yes, I do. This is really nice of you Umemiya,” you say as you fall into step next to him. He shrugs and waves you off, but you catch the self-confident upturn at the corner of his mouth. Why you were staring at his mouth in the first place could not be waterboarded out of you. 
“Don’t mention it. What’d you think of yesterday? Oh, wait. Let me take this from you so you can eat.” Before you can stop him, he reaches over and carefully slides the strap of your bag from your shoulder and hoists it onto his. Surprised, you thank him again, something that you found yourself doing a lot since you met him. It wasn’t like you were trying to overstate your gratitude, Umemiya just kept doing things for you; on your first day, he did everything from crouching down to tie your shoe to herding you toward the side of the sidewalk, away from the busy street. So far, Bofurin was nothing like you’d previously imagined. 
“There’s a lot more structure in place than I thought there would be,” you answer, taking a few bites of the pastry. After Umemiya gave you a proper introduction to first-year class captain (and your self-proclaimed #1 skeptic) Sakura, he also introduced you to Suo and Nirei, the two boys that were with him. The rest of your first day was a flurry of meetings and broadcast announcements from the top of the school, mixed with an unexpected amount of pot transplanting on the roof. “I didn’t realize there would be such a clear hierarchy of power…or a community garden.”
“You thought we were just a bunch of kids who got into fights every day?”
“Yes–wait, no!” Your face burns while you backtrack and try to explain yourself. Umemiya doesn’t hear it and simply chuckles at your slip. “Okay, fine. Yes, I did think you were a bunch of kids that got into fights every day. But,” you pause, taking a look at the pastry in your hand. “There’s obviously more I need to learn.” 
“That’s alright,” Umemiya beams. The sun starts to peek over the roofs of the little stores and houses, painting Furin High golden as you approach. “That's why I’m here. Oh, and before I forget, give me your phone.” You watch as he dials his contact information in, even taking a picture of himself for the contact photo. “What do you think?” 
“Wow, you look great. Thanks for doing that for me.”
“Of course. Now you have a direct line to me in case you ever need anything!” He has a cute smile, speaks an unprompted voice in your head that you’re quick to silence. You’re about to tease him about being so friendly with strangers when you catch sight of a smear of hot pink running across the bricks beside you. Umemiya’s smile fades as you walk past the metal garage door of a food vendor, it too becoming the victim of the same pink marking you saw on your first night. 
“That’s the second one I’ve seen now.” His eyes are narrowed when you turn to him. He’s not focusing on what you’re saying; you can tell by the way the muscle in his jaw clenches that he’s running analyses like a supercomputer. “Do you have any idea who’s doing this?”
“There hasn’t been word of a pink team in ages, let alone one that has the audacity to come on Bofurin territory and claim it,” he says quietly.  
“They’re trying to take it from you?”
“Keyword ‘trying.’ Doesn’t mean they’ll be successful.” The darkness of his expression disappears in a blink and you’re met with a self-assured grin. “Ah, well don’t worry about it. We handle this kind of stuff all the time,” he reassures you, readjusting your bag over his shoulder and starting again down the sidewalk.  
“How often do you deal with stuff like this?” 
“Weekly, probably,” he shrugs and you make a mental reminder to write it in your notebook. 
“Are people just looking for a fight because you’re the strongest team, or is it something else?” Your mind momentarily brings you back to sitting across from the mathletes team in the school library, giving them food for thought and jotting down their responses. It was a little different, asking questions of Umemiya, but the familiar feeling of seeking answers is comforting muscle memory. 
“I don’t have a concrete answer for you, honestly,” he admits. “But, my theory is that people don’t like what we do here. We protect the town and discourage people from doing unethical things. People simply don’t like being told what they can’t do.” You nod, trying your best to remember everything he’s saying. It made sense why smaller teams would want to take down the most powerful team in the area, but the morality side and restricting the actions of others because they harm the townspeople was something you didn’t expect to also play into the situation. “Are you going to interview any other teams here?” You shake your head.
“I wasn’t planning on it. The answers that you’re giving me now are more than I could have hoped for,” you answer and you catch his satisfied smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Do you think I should study other teams?” 
“You don’t need to. You fit in better with us, anyway.” 
— Day 3 of 5: “Whatever devil’s inside you // Don’t let him out tonight”
Reports of the hot pink marking become more frequent the longer you stay with Bofurin, both for sightings on shop windows and shadows sneaking around alleyways just out of patroller’s lines of sight. The more teams Umemiya sent out to paint over the vandalism, the more sightings increased. To you, it was an indicator of growing tensions between Bofurin and surrounding, envious teams. 
To Umemiya, it was Wednesday. 
“We have a collaborative meeting with another team, Shishitoren, today,” he informs you on the walk from your host’s apartment to the school, your bag swinging weightlessly on his shoulder. “I’d like for you to join us, but it’s ultimately up to you.” 
“Do you have a history with them?” The team leader’s eyes space out and he blinks once, then twice, before coming back to the present. 
“Yeah…you could say that,” he chuckles. “Just don’t ask Sakura about his first one-on-one with them. He gets defensive.” You stifle a grin.
“Oh, did he lose?”
“He won, actually,” Umemiya corrects, equally as amused as you, “Which is the part he gets mad about, so you should probably steer clear of the subject all together.” You nod, interviewing Sakura being nowhere in your plans. “Suo and Nirei will be able to give you all the info you need, though,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for discontent. “And of course, you could always ask me too.” He smiles at you and something in your brain short-circuits. 
Ever the professional, you try not to think about how nice Umemiya’s been to you when you arrive at the Ori, headquarters of Shishitoren. Steering away from the run-down screening room, you and Umemiya’s team climb up to the roof, where a group of guys wearing orange baseball jackets are waiting. 
“What took you so long? Breakfast is getting cold!” The team’s leader, Tomiyama, leaps from his seat on the ledge and bounds over to Umemiya. “Oh?” He pauses, looking you up and down before smiling brightly at you. “You brought your new friend, Ume!” You wave politely and introduce yourself, a little more relaxed with Umemiya at your side. 
“Smart,” comments whom you assume to be the second-in-command, Togame. He moves at a leisurely pace, barely even blinking as he lifts Tomiyama by the collar of his jacket and sets him at the other end of the meeting’s circle. “Our guys have caught at least three of their guys running surveillance on your side. Who knows what would’ve happened if you left your guest at the school alone.”
“Surveillance?” You frown, but Umemiya doesn’t look surprised. “And what do you mean, something could have happened?” 
“Rival members follow others around, learning their ins and outs,” Togame tells you. “Essentially what you’ve been doing, but uninvited. They’ve been getting pretty pissy about Bofurin lately, so they might’ve tried to use you as some kind of collateral if they knew Umemiya would be out.” The thought makes you gag, and the same discontent expressions can be found on all the occupants of the roof. 
“They’re not very nice, those guys,” Tomiyama pouts. “The ones we’ve questioned wanna take over your side, Ume.” So other teams want to take over Bofurin’s territory more often than Umemiya lets on, you think to yourself. Maybe not even on a weekly basis, but daily. 
“Did you let the guys you’ve questioned off the hook? Or you still have ‘em here?” Hiragi asks. 
“We don’t have any of them here, no,” Togame replies. “But we have a general idea of how they make their rounds and can probably catch a team or two when they start following Bofurin guys.” 
“Great,” Umemiya concludes with a single decisive clap. “Let’s go get ‘em.” 
“Alright, field trip time!” Tomiyama’s energy sends him practically bouncing off the walls. You pack up what little things you brought with you to the meeting and are ready to fall into step behind the guys, but Umemiya stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
“Yo, Kaji.” The lollipop-mouthed second-year pulls down his headphones to listen. “Take them back to the school. Don’t want them there in case things get ugly.” You open your mouth to protest, ready to fire off why it’s important that you see the good, bad, and ugly of Bofurin, but Umemiya silences you with a shake of his head. “Please go. I’m not changing my mind.” 
“Why don’t you want me to be there?”
“Like I said, things could get ugly–” 
“And,” you cut in, “I’m capable enough to run if I need to. You can trust me to get out of there on my own.” The tone of his reply is soft and patient, like it was for your own good that you didn’t go. 
“Maybe next time, okay?” You frown, disappointment twisting in your gut. “I don’t doubt that you can handle your own if things get bad. I just…don’t want you to see it if things get bad.” He runs a hand through his hair and the flex of his large bicep suddenly clicks the pieces of understanding into place. There was a reason why he was the head of Bofurin and respected by all these rowdy team members, whether they were on his team or not. Though you hadn’t seen him fight yet, there was a more dangerous side to Umemiya that existed with the kindness he’d shown you. He didn’t want you there in case things got ugly because of him. 
“I–I see.” He nods with a sigh of relief and turns to leave; you pull your arms close to your body at the sudden chill as he walks away. “Umemiya?” He pauses at the doorway, his hand hovering over the handle as he looks over his shoulder at you expectantly. Several things occurred to you to say to them, all of them borderline condescending if he took it the wrong way. Don’t do anything brash. Make sure you come back. You shouldn’t need to use your fists for this. 
“Be safe, please,” is what you settle for. 
— Day 4 of 5: “Everyone makes mistakes // But just don’t”
You’re past the halfway point of studying Furin High and team Bofurin when Hiragi storms into the broadcast room, grumbling about being out of supplies. Umemiya isn’t worried and reassures his friend that they would have what they were missing by the end of the day. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin was having a significant effect on you, since you volunteer to do the run before anyone else does. 
To be fair, you did need to run back to your host’s apartment–who had so graciously started letting Umemiya in while he waited for you to get ready in the morning–because you’d forgotten to drop your notebook in your bag before rushing out the door. The list wasn’t huge, either, and you figured you could do the whole trip in about an hour: painkillers (Nirei misjudged his spacing and accidentally got kicked in the crotch), small bandages (Sakura, self-explanatory), wet wipes (Suo noted how dirty the desks became because of everyone’s shoes), and a few packages of plant food (Umemiya insisted on buying some potted flowers from the vendor on your street).
“Are you sure? One of the patrol teams can pick the stuff up,” Umemiya offers, eyeing you oddly. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin meant you also caught the team’s head staring when he thought you weren’t looking, and then quickly turning away when you looked back. “Or, if you go, let me send one of the class captains with you, just in case. Sakura should be on patrol in the area.” You shake your head and stand up to leave. 
“I’ll be fine, Ume, I promise.” The nickname slips out before you can stop it, but he doesn’t seem to notice, eyebrows drawn in concern as he watches the floor. You lightly rest your hand on his shoulder and he snaps out of it, exhaling through his nose before nodding, reluctantly. 
“Call if anything happens,” Hiragi grunts before turning to Umemiya. “Hey, weren’t you talking about giving them a–”
“Hiragi, you’re a genius,” Umemiya cuts in and moves to dig through a box at the corner of the room. “Hey, wait,” he says, gently catching your wrist before you’re out the door and pressing a jacket into your hand. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin, and you would know the jacket’s green collar and the insignia anywhere. “No one should bother you if you’re wearing it.” 
Ironically, absolutely nothing happens until you’re on your way back from the convenience store. Your host was waiting for you in the living area to give you your notebook, and the store was barely a block away from her apartment. You find the needed items easily, placing a bag of mixed hard candies and a box of new chalk into your basket because you noticed they were running out. It’s a perfect day as you walk back to Furin, all cloudless skies and cool breezes and smooth sidewalks. The Furin jacket fits snugly on your torso, sturdy enough to protect you from the chill in the shade but light enough that you don’t overheat from the sun. It’s nice, something you could get used to. 
You don’t realize they’re behind you until it’s too late. 
“So, you’re Bofurin’s bitch, huh? Nice to see you in the light.” You stop in your tracks and look behind you to see a dozen guys in hot pink team uniforms you don’t recognize. There shouldn’t be that many of a rival team on Bofurin grounds, right? What the hell were they doing here? 
“You gonna say something, or are you stupid as you are ugly?” 
“Aww, look at them. They’re shaking and they don’t even know why,” one of the guys in the front sneers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll give you something to be scared of.” The group starts to approach you and your vision slows like everything was moving through syrup. You catch the symbol on their uniforms, the same one that’s been spray painted on the town’s buildings for the past few days. The encroaching team was trying to take you to get leverage over Bofurin. Not good. Definitely not good. 
“Umemiya’s gonna think twice about messing with us after they see how we mess up his little pet!” Umemiya. You need to get to Umemiya. Your senses come back to you like a freight train and you have half the mind to dig your shoes into the street and run. 
The rival team shouts after you and the sound of pursuing footsteps thunder down the road. With one hand gripping the plastic bag of supplies, you yank your phone from the jacket pocket and frantically swipe to his contact. Your assailants draw closer and you force more energy into your legs, barely outrunning them by a few seconds. You cut through an alleyway and round a corner, but a dip in the road simultaneously makes you trip, pain shooting through your ankle. Shit! Your finger misses the ‘call’ button on your phone and you tap the ‘send location’ button instead. It’s not what you were going for, but your only options were to stop to properly call for help and get caught or keep running on your tweaked ankle. With the group of guys racing around the corner to catch you, you have no choice but to keep running. 
“Get the hell away from me!” You skid to a halt and turn to face the team head-on, your voice unsteady and breathless. You were finally starting to recognize the buildings around you; at the same time, your lungs were aching unbearably. Your pursuers slow to a halt and you’re stuck in a standoff in the middle of the street, the townspeople shutting themselves away in their stores to minimize damage to their own livelihoods. You stumble backward when the team leader steps forward, a cruel grin covering his entire face. 
“C’mon now, we just wanna have a little chat with you, you being Bofurin’s newest addition and all.” The men behind him leer at you, swinging their bats and crowbars up onto their shoulders. 
“Take one step closer and all of Bofurin comes running,” you snarl, shoving your phone forward, your finger hovering over the ‘send location’ button.
“That’s a whole lotta bullshit spewing out of your mouth, sweetie.”
“Why don’t you shut yours, asshole?” You spit. Sure the phone was a bluff, a last-ditch effort to stall for time.
It didn’t matter.
You knew how quickly Bofurin organized. 
As the hot pink leader lunges the remaining distance between you two, he’s knocked to the side by a blur of black, green, and white. Sakura stands up straight, rolls his shoulders, and scowls at you. 
“Why didn’t you call us sooner, dumbass?” 
“What, you think I wanted to get chased down today?” You meet his attitude with your own irritation and exhaustion. “Why didn’t you get here sooner?”
“Just go somewhere safe, idiot,” he yells, slamming his fist into an attacker’s face. “Your boyfriend’ll be here soon, but we were closer when he messaged everyone!” You don’t have time to think about the idea of Umemiya texting all of Bofurin to descend upon your location.Your glare fades quickly into relief and you step backward as Suo and Kiryu launch themselves into the fight.  Kaji and Hiragi rush in within a minute, and you’re spun to face Umemiya before you register that he’s there. 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” He searches your face, his anxiety evident. “What did they do to you?”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. They didn’t get me.” Your voice wavers when you try to put weight on your injured ankle, and it panics Umemiya even more. Other Bofurin members enthusiastically join the brawl, but all Umemiya can do is take your hands and scan your body, letting you use him to balance on your good foot. 
“They were chasing you? I knew I should have–” You give him a tired smile and pull his face up to meet your eyes. 
“I didn’t let them catch me. I’m safe, I promise.” He inhales like he’s about to say something, but his attention snaps behind you, his expression hardening in an instant. He slips in front of you like a shield and brings his forearm up to block the hand that was meant to grab you while you were distracted. He throws the attacker to the ground and it lies still, completely unconscious. 
“Hey!” The sound of Umemiya’s voice echoes in the street. The chaos stills, fists suspended in mid air. His eyes that looked so kindly on you darken into shadows, shutting out the sunlight and sending chills down the backs of everyone present. “Not enough to kill…” he orders, securing an arm around your waist and turning you away from the fighting, leaving his underclassmen to finish the job. “But enough.”
You’re a sweating mess and barely able to put weight on your ankle by the time you make it through the doors of Bofurin headquarters. You fall away from his supportive body and your shoulder hits the wall, stars scattering in your vision. Any attempt to drag yourself further, with or without Umemiya’s help, earns you nothing but a hiss and a white-hot flash of pain. Umemiya looks distraught, reaching forward and pulling back with indecisive uncertainty. 
“What do you need me to do? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he pleads with you. “Please, tell me what you need.” 
“Water,” you croak, your voice hoarse and tired. “I just–I can’t–I can’t walk well–” Your feet leave the ground before you can comprehend that you’re in the air, Umemiya’s arms effortlessly lifting you and beginning the ascent up the school’s stairs. His body is steady and he barely breaks a sweat, stone-cold determination his only expression. Your decreasing heart rate pounds in your forehead and you squint against the light once he climbs to the roof. He sets you gently on a chair in the shade before retrieving a bottle of water, watching as you take a few sips before kneeling in front of you. 
“May I?” You blink, regaining your senses, and realize he’s asking if he can inspect your ankle. You hum, settling into the chair while he carefully rolls up the cuff of your pants. His fingers brushing your bare skin momentarily makes you forget any pain, a shock of lightning shooting up your spine as he swipes his thumb over the front of your ankle. He turns your leg over gently in his hands before deeming it okay. “It’s not swelling, thankfully, so it’s probably just a bad sprain at most.” He exhales, deeply relieved, but continues to run his fingers carefully over the tender area. 
“You couldn’t have predicted they would be there,” you say, his thoughts painted all over his face. 
“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles, more irritated than you expected. He’s just mad at himself, not at you, you need to remind yourself.  
“You didn’t need to.” Your hand reaches itself out on its own accord, turning his face so you could meet his eyes. “I didn’t get hurt because of you.” 
“But you did get hurt,” he mutters, eyebrows drawn the same way as when he was analyzing the pink symbol a few days prior. The cogs in his brain were turning, you could see, but this time there was a lingering sense of shame. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”
“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” He shrugs, but you catch the muscle in his jaw relax as his eyes soften. “If that’s not safe, then I don’t know what is.” 
“You’re not angry that I wasn’t there sooner?”
“I’m safest when I’m with you,” you state simply, “and you found me at just the right moment. So no, of course I’m not angry with you.” Words slip out of Umemiya’s mouth before he’s able to register that they’re leaving, but he has half the mind to change the middle part of the sentence before he comes off as too overbearing. 
“I…care about you, deeply.” You smile, letting him take your hand into his own and press his lips to the inside of your palm. 
— Day 5 of 5: “We could live so happily // If no one knows that you’re with me”
It’s 7:00 am and Umemiya isn’t outside your door. 
You curl up on your bed and stare out the window, the street below milling with its usual morning business. After he dropped you off the previous night with a curt ‘sleep well’ and a reminder to ice your ankle, you were left in an eerily quiet bedroom while you tossed and turned thinking about the day’s events. A ring of the doorbell sends you hobbling down the stairs and throwing open the front door, only to be met with a very pink Sakura, flanked by Suo and Nirei. 
“Don’t go outside today,” Sakura says bluntly. Nirei flinches and Suo’s smile becomes slightly strained, both of them eyeing their class captain warily. 
“What he means,” Suo says before Sakura can say anything else, “is that you don’t need to come study Bofurin today.” Your heart sinks. This must have been because of the day prior. He was really mad that you got yourself hurt, huh? 
“Don’t look so sad about it,” Sakura mutters, his cheeks turning a slightly darker shade of red. “It’s annoying.” You stutter an unexpected apology and suddenly have the urge to hide back in your room until your train the next day. 
“I get it,” you say quietly. “He’s angry with me. Please give him my thanks for the hospitality he’s shown me this week. I’ll be gone by 8:00 tomorrow.” You move to close the door when all three boys practically throw themselves in the way. 
“Wait, that’s not what we meant!” Nirei’s eyes are the size of basketballs. 
“Please don’t listen to anything Sakura is saying; he has a hard time empathizing with others.” Nirei nods enthusiastically in agreement with Suo, slapping a hand over Sakura’s mouth to prevent the boy from speaking. “Really, that’s not what we mean by saying you don’t need to study us anymore.” 
“Umemiya wants you to take the day to rest,” Nirei explains quickly. “He doesn’t think you should be walking to and from the school on your injured ankle.” Your sadness is replaced with indignancy and you cross your arms over your chest. 
“He couldn’t have told me this himself?” 
“He would, but…” Nirei’s voice trails off and you catch Suo biting the inside of his cheek. Sakura’s the first to break the silence, peeling Nirei’s hand from his face. 
“Umemiya and the upperclassmen have been beating the shit out of those hot pink assholes since last night.” 
“It must’ve been pretty serious, since he didn’t even allow Suo or Sakura to go with them,” Nirei adds, “And they’re some of the best fighters in our class.” 
“How long has he been out?” 
“Hiragi said he called them late last night and a small team raided the hot pink team’s base.” That would mean Bofurin raided the base immediately after dropping you off. Why would he hide that from you? “Technically, he said not to tell you because he knew you’d panic,” Sakura continues. “So he sent us to tell you to take it easy. Don’t stab the messengers.”
“It’s ‘don’t shoot the messengers,’ Sakura,” Suo corrects and Sakura shrugs, indifferent. 
“And we’re already as good as dead anyway,” Nirei says, his expression dropping. “We weren’t supposed to tell you that he’s been fighting those guys that hurt you.” 
“It’s Sakura’s fault for yapping–”
“You wanna fight?”
��What’s done is done, little brothers.” You stiffen, blinking against the morning sun as Umemiya trudges into your vision. His handsome face has seen better days, small cuts and bruises littered all over his skin. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, revealing the dirtied white shirt that wasn’t stained the previous evening. He rolls a broad shoulder and stretches his neck from side to side, his underclassmen scurrying away as he steps onto the welcome mat. “G’morning,” he greets in a tired voice. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Better late than never,” you deadpan, taking his hand and guiding him inside. “Thanks boys,” you call over your shoulder at the sheepish underclassmen. “I’ll take it from here,” you finish before shutting the door. 
“Gotta say, this place looks better when my vision isn’t blurry,” Umemiya jokes with a wince, collapsing into a chair at the dining table. You ignore his attempt at humor, retrieving the first aid kit from the closet along with a rag that you soak with warm water. His eyes are on you as you move about; you feel his gaze burn into the back of your neck. 
“If you weren’t already beaten to a pulp, I’d slap you,” you mumble, sitting across from him and gently patting the dried blood from his face. 
“And I’d let you,” he manages to smile, never taking his attention away from you. You can’t tell if your face is hot from his intense stare or from the anger bubbling in your stomach. Scooting closer, you start work on the cut above his lip, just missing his nose. “You smell nice.” 
“You need to stop talking.” His smile fades only slightly, his eyes ever watchful while you take care of his wounds. You hope he can’t tell how badly your hands are shaking as you tap antibiotic ointment onto his skin and cover it with a bandage. 
“You’re upset with me,” he says carefully, observing the way you’re conveniently avoiding eye contact. 
“You just figured that out?”
“You gonna tell me why, or are you just gonna keep scowling?”
“This is not how you usually do things,” you say through gritted teeth, gesturing to the evidence of fights all over his body. “You’re diplomatic. You’re understanding. You’re empathetic. You don’t…You don’t solve problems like this!” You don’t realize how loud your voice has become until you register the echo from the empty walls, nor do you realize that you were standing until his eyes were looking up at you. 
“How do you know that I don’t do this?”
“Because I watched you this week and I know how you work.” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know why you’d break all of that just because of some hot pink bastards running around your–”
“I did it because of you,” he says. “I did it because they hurt you.”
“You didn’t need to do that, Hajime.” It’s the first time you’d used his first name and something flutters in Umemiya’s stomach. He can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, watching as your emotions start to escape down your face in wet streaks. His body moves on its own, reaching out to wipe your tears to the side and standing so that your chests are nearly touching. His voice is barely a murmur, reserved only for you to hear. 
“You didn’t want me to do it?” Both your hearts are racing, slamming against your rib cages. 
“If it meant you getting hurt like this, then no.”
“I’d put myself through much worse if it meant you were safe,” he whispers. In this proximity, your anger flies out the window, along with your good judgment. He was so close, you could just–
“What else would you do for me?” His eyelashes flutter against yours. 
“Anything.” Umemiya thinks he has a broken rib from how little he can breathe. 
“Show me.” It’s like a rubber band snaps between your bodies as he finally leans down to kiss you, molding himself so that you could perfectly melt against him. His grip on your waist is rock-solid, holding you close enough that you feel him shudder when you scratch against his undercut. The sound you make when he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip makes his head go completely empty, the same feeling happening for you when his fingers graze the spot where your neck meets your chin. He kisses you feverishly, refusing to let you breathe until you’re forced to pull away lest you completely lose consciousness. 
“Do you always kiss the people you write about?” He winks at you and you roll your eyes, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“Only the ones I fall for,” you whisper back. “I’m still mad at you for ditching me this morning, though.” 
“I sent your three favorite underclassmen instead,” he argues but you shake your head, a smile teasing your mouth. “Fine. How can I make it up to you?” You hum thoughtfully, blinking at him in a way that sent Umemiya’s mind into a frenzy. 
“Kiss me again and we’ll call it even.” 
“Whatever you say.” 
— Day [???] of [???]: 
He’s waiting for you when you step off the train, a dazzling smile on his face that grows when he sees the certificate awarded to you with your scholarship funds. A dozen captains dot the platform, diligently watching the back of their leader as he brings down every guard he has and catches you in his arms. After enduring Umemiya talking their ears off, the silence that falls over the area as you bask in each other’s presence is enough of a reason to switch formations, allowing you time alone with the one man who would put himself through hell if it meant you were still his. 
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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pigdemonart ¡ 2 years ago
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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)
When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]
These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.
More info under cut:
Edit: Important disclaimer:
These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍
Tags:
I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.
Height chart:
I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:
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Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)
Notes about each agent...
Cameron:
- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices.  - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too.  - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.
Cloud:
- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the PokÊmon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling.  - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace.  - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together!  - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.
Furze:
- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.
Isadore
- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao
Jackie
- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...
- Item #: SCP 7453
- Object Class: Euclid
- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.
Ramses
- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.
In-Game Quotes
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The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.
In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.
Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!
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heywardsdoll ¡ 5 months ago
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pope hates bringing you with him on a pogue mission. but usually you cry your way into it, fat tears welling in your eyes as you tugged on his shirt. and all he needs to cave in is seeing your pretty pout, and the way your eyes shine with sadness.
"i don't want to be left out. i really don't pope," you whisper, folding your arms as you hope he understands. pope raises his eyebrows before you tug on his t-shirt again.
it's here that he looks away from you, "shit, you can't do that to me. seriously, you can't just do that!" then you sniffle, a sorry sound and he seems to sigh, shoulders caving in as he tries to look anywhere but you. "fine, fine. grab your coat on the way out, it's kinda chilly outside."
that's pope. no matter what, even if he was mad at you, he was taking care of you. he's glare, even scowl as he saw you get what you want—but then soon after he'd be tucking your shirt in, or getting you some water because hydration is important, it's even worse with the pogues because you look like a baby. it makes it seem like you couldn't take care of yourself, but you couldn't help but flush every single time he holds you in your arms, or places a careful kiss on your forehead.
he's thoughtful, and it's horrible when he corners you to secretly kiss you when you're on the way to find the cross. theres something so intimate about him whispering about purpose, and how he's finally got what his ancestors wanted him. it's that feverish emotion that makes you want to be there for him.
but there are too many close calls, from the time pope got stung by bees, to rafe following you a few too many times.
sometimes you work at the grocery store, checking in people's stuff, telling the old lady where she can find cornstarch, and then helping the little boy who cried about his red lolly getting lost under the shelves, (his brother had kicked it under there.) pope would always come to find you, all sweaty and tired before you hung your hands over his head and then kissed him softly.
but one time he came a bit too late, and rafe had been your last customer. there was a shit-eating smile on his face, as he smirked before placing a pack of mint gum on the counter.
"is that all?" you muttered, trying not to look him in the eye. pope had told you about the type of person rafe cameron was, and for all you knew he could do what he wanted to do, and could get away with it, a hundred times. no one in the store except him, and it was almost six o'clock.
"yeah, uh," he drawled pulling out his couple of bucks, "keep the change."
you nodded putting the money into the cash register, the small ding of the register calming as you touched your necklace protectively. it's stupid, you know, but the pink taser gun that pope had jokingly bedazzled sticks to your side as a reminder as you could feel his eyes on you. rafe dark eyes followed you as you shut the cash register, giving him a cold smile. your hands are sticky with sweat.
suddenly he's almost out of the door, and you let out a sigh of relief before you here his almost-bored voice drone out. theres snark in his comment.
"tell your boy we're watching him. shit, uh–and," rafe laughed, a boisterous sound before winking, "tell him to stay on the low. it's dangerous out here and you don't wanna get caught with anything, you know?" then he grins, before popping a piece of gum in his mouth, teeth shining bright and you couldn't help but shiver.
later that night, you were hyperventilating so hard, pope had to put his arms over you and kiss you repeatedly, soft and soothing. you have to keep reaching for him to tell yourself pope was fine, and that rafe was just threatening for no reason, and that you were being overbearing.
"he's sick, and he's twisted pope! i want to keep you safe. please, please stay safe," you choked out, your hands to your side as you walked in circles. you kept taking sharp breaths as pope tried to calm you down.
pope had sighed, "doll, i will stay safe, but i don't like that he's talking about this stuff to you. i want to keep you away from it, i mean when i met your mom—" then he cocks an eyebrow in your direction, but then stops right there. it's almost condescending, knowing where this is going to go. he's telling you not to come, but you have to go with him because you have to keep him safe. you can't lose him, you just can't.
"are you saying i shouldn't come with you guys anymore?" you whisper out, a sharp warning in your voice as you bit your lip. he had looked away from you, and then raised his hands in defeat and the conversation was over.
but here you were, laying in his lap in the twinkie. you were completely wiped out as pope ran a hand over your face. you murmur something under your breath before snuggling closer to him. jj lets out a low whistle, wiggling his eyebrows, only to get a disapproving look from pope.
"she got you under her paws, doesn't she?" jj crowed, and you stir as pope rolls his eyes, looking at john b for support. john b just smiles, giving pope a pointed look. it was true, pope would do practically anything for you.
then comes the serious sigh. pope's eyebrows are creased, as he absentmindedly rubs circles on your shoulder. you smile softly in your sleep, warm as ever.
quickly enough jj snaps his fingers in pope's face, "hey man, what the hell was that sigh about? all wistful and shit." jj muttered, a confused look on his face before shaking pope.
"i-," pope started, before shaking his head, "nah, it's stupid." he's still got his hands on you, playing with the string bracelet that you gave him. it was a old thing, practically falling apart, and jj made fun of it.
now it's jj's turn to snort, shoving pope with an indignant expression "you stupid? c'mon what's got your pretty head in a ditzy?"
"i don't know. john b back me up on this but, i don't like seeing my girl around this stuff. it kills me, to see her racing after the same danger as us," pope muttered, groaning as he looked away from your face, "and the other day rafe cornered her and she was scared shitless."
then he shakes his head, "and you know what, i should be protecting her from that sort of stuff, but no, no!" he grins but it's full of resentment, "no, i'm introducing her to it."
now this has the boys attention. jj gave pope a sympathetic look, patting him on the back as john b nodded. the playful demeanour of the conversation stirred into something else.
"i get it, man. we all want to keep her safe," john b said, his voice calm and reassuring. "but she's tough. she's stronger than you think."
"yeah, but it's not just about being tough," pope replied, face screwed up with frustration, toying with a lock of your hair. "i know she's tough! tougher than me sometimes. but it's about not wanting her to be exposed to this shit at all. she deserves better."
quickly john b sighed, hand on the wheel and it was almost as if his dark circles were more evident than ever.
"you think i don't worry about sarah?" john b countered, his tone soft but firm. "i worry about her all the time, but she made her choice to be with us, to face whatever comes our way. it's the same with your girl. she chose to be with you, to stand by your side, no matter the danger."
pope sighed again, his hand still gently caressing your shoulder. "i know, i just... i don't want to be the reason something happens to her."
"then keep doing what you're doing," jj interjected, his voice surprisingly gentle. "protect her, look out for her. but don't push her away. she's here because she loves you, man. she wants to be with you, even if it means facing danger."
pope nodded, his gaze softening as he looked down at your peaceful face. "yeah, i know. it's just hard sometimes."
"it's hard because you care," john b said, offering a reassuring smile. "and that's a good thing. just don't forget to trust her, too. she can handle more than you think."
the conversation lulled as the twinkie rolled on through the night, the familiar hum of the engine a comforting background noise. pope could hear the birds chirp, and he settled his head on the window before getting up with a confused expression.
"shit, when did you guys get so smart?" pope groaned, "it was easier when i was surrounded by idiots,"
jj laughed, resting a hand on pope's shoulder. "took a page out of your book, maybe it's time you take a page out ours," he winked, nudging pope gently.
pope finally looked down at you, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as you stirred slightly, mumbling something in your sleep. and for what it was worth—pope smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently.
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talkbycolor ¡ 1 year ago
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the nun and the soldier
A/N; I ACTUALLY DREAMED ABOUT THIS AND THOUGHT LOL WHAT A GOOD IDEA FOR AN OS
Pairing; "[REDACTED]" x AFAB!Reader
CW; cnc? for someone who doesnt know how to put limits the line is very blurry, you will guess / daddy kink but in a priestly way / def religion kink, breeding but im not sure if its just a kink, worship but im not sure who worships who the most / this is more like an au like 1940 battlefield where [REDACTED] is a soldier and MC a nun
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The night was like a classic old horror movie scene.
And how not to be scared? Outside the cathedral it was raining heavily, the skies were roaring from the electrical storm and the only lighting was the holy candles, that place was a refuge for the homeless.
After all, many people needed comfort in times of war.
You had decided to stay until midnight, praying to your father to protect the soldiers in battle, that the families would stop going hungry, you held the wooden cross that hung from your chest so tightly, begging for the massacre to stop, the times They brought sadness to the entire nation and God had to save them.
A loud clap of thunder echoed outside the cathedral and the doors were opened, the cold of the night and the wind caused the flame of some candles to go out, so holding the cross tightly to your chest you turned to see who dared to break in. with such violence in the house of God.
"Who's there?" You asked as you walked towards the huge wooden gate.
A man in uniform walked in, soaked from the rain, he looked tired, hungry, hurt, he barely made eye contact with you you felt a chill run through your entire body, not just because of the weather.
"I need food" He was a soldier, you nodded immediately and helped him walk to take a seat on one of the benches while you went to the warehouse for something the man could eat, there was food stored that was going to be donated, or that's what the priest said.
You returned with canned food and some water for the stranger, who snatched your things to eat like a dying dog, water running down his chin and eating haphazardly as he breathed heavily.
"Sir, are you okay? Where is he coming from?" You didn't avoid being curious when asking those questions, although just one cold look from him was enough to make you close your mouth.
…
You only heard him chewing, the man seemed to have had a really bad time and it was no wonder that you could tell from miles away that he was a soldier, and since he came alone, there was a high probability that he was one of the few survivors in the trenches, but you are not going to assume too much.
"Father, please help this poor man to heal his wounds safely, to regain his strength, to protect his life on the battlefield and the lives of our nation -…"
"Stop talking shit" he interrupted you in a vulgar way, causing astonishment on your face, even disgust.
"That is no way to speak before the lord" You scolded him, the black-haired man only laughed hoarsely.
"Bring me clothes, I'm freezing in this" he demanded arrogantly, getting rid of his wet clothes, your kind soul heeded his words, because that's what you were, right? A sweet nun willing to help the needy, love your neighbor as your god ordered.
"Excuse me, I only found the priest's old clothes and I'm not sure they fit him, I hope they can help you" You said as you returned to the bench, he once again snatched the things from your hand.
Yes, he was a rude man.
The minutes passed, the candles continued to melt at the altar, you were praying in front of the golden statue of your lord while the soldier was resting on the benches, grunting at his wounds and trying to stay warm.
"Hey, nun, since you won't shut up come here, I think I know how you could keep that mouth busy" The man suggested with a cheeky smile, it was unheard of how he could say such things in the lord's house.
"Hey! That's enough of-…"
"It wasn't a question, come here or I'll come for you" his voice was sharp, and with no intention of continuing to listen to you, seeing how you froze in surprise he grumbled and took the trouble to walk towards you.
Right in front of the golden statue of your god, he subdued you to the ground and lifted your robe to reveal your underwear, that man was shameless because he simply buried his face between your asscheeks to inhale deeply.
"HEY! HEY" WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" You begged him, confusion and disgust replaced with terror, but… he was a soldier, a man willing to sacrifice his life for his nation.
"Please, honey, aren't you supposed to be a helpful sweetheart? You promised to help me stay warm, and this is my last dinner before I die?" He murmured on your back, riding you without a word, his hands had already pulled down your underwear while you were busy in your thoughts.
"Oh my god, this can't be happening, I'm supposed to stay pure" You whimpered as you covered your face, too embarrassed by the situation but not trying to push the man away.
He was an angel sent by god to save the country, it would be so rude to reject any order he gave.
He ground his hips against yours in a messy manner, he hadn't even prepared you well when your pussy was already engulfing his cock.
"Wow, you're so tight, so it's true that nuns are virgins, right? I feel so lucky to be the one to take your chastity, dear." His voice was teasing in your ear as you squeezed your eyes shut to endure the sudden intrusion, you were Pretty sure you would bleed.
No one would pass by the cathedral at that time of night, much less in a storm, the clicking of both skins echoed in the enormous building, right in the eyes of your lord.
"P-please forgive me Father for I have sinned, forgive me so much" A hand grabbed your jaw to silence you.
"You better ask thanks to the Lord because you will soon have a son, I will take care of filling this pretty pussy of yours to the brim, okay, angel?" He mocked your prayers but the seriousness in his voice was immaculate, he really wanted to impregnate your womb with his seed.
Your legs were shaking as you tried to stay in the doggy position, the soldier was selfish, penetrating your wet cunt for the sole purpose of having his release and getting you pregnant.
"S-sir please slow down, I feel like you're going to break me" You begged, snot slipping out of your nose as well as tears at how disastrous the situation was, the problem wasn't that the man was using you, because he was part of the brave army that risked his life, it is logical that you want to help.
"... We shouldn't be doing this in the Father's house." Sob quietly, your body reacted so well to his touch and it was inevitable not to moan, causing echoes in the cathedral.
"No, no, angel, call me father, you don't want your lord to hear you acting like a slut in his holy home." His calloused hands squeezed your hips and he pulled you like a wolf would its prey towards its nest.
"My god, angel, you feel so good, I'm melting between your walls, I want to spill all my essence inside you, you're being so good for me, I promise you it will feel better" He whispered lovingly despite the furious thrusts. that you received. "Don't worry, this is what your god wants, right? Demigods are worshiped with flowers, real gods need blood." His tone felt so somber, his hand traveled to your crotch to caress, collecting said blood, your blood.
So if he died on the battlefield, he would at least have left his inheritance in the world and he wouldn't be completely forgotten, right? His greedy hands ran over every inch of your skin under your tunic, squeezing the flesh, he too seemed inexperienced too, moaning and letting out incoherencies as he ground his groin against you, saliva running down his jaw as he moaned like a dog, panting, his eyes rolling back, sharper sounds until you both trembled violently.
Just as he said, you were dripping, as soon as a mirror cascade came out of you and warm semen was present from your pussy, his member was already a little more flaccid as he observed such a work of art in front of him.
He didn't want to die, he wanted this stupid war to end so he could get this nun pregnant and raise a child together.
"It's okay, you'll be okay" he murmured one last time as he clung to you, taking you into his arms with a blank look, but his words weren't.
He promised that when all that was over he would return to you to take care of you and the baby, that was what he wanted most, a life without daily blood, peace.
It's a shame that the promise would never be fulfilled.
♡
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gem-de-lune ¡ 8 days ago
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Chit Chat and Updates
Hey guys, how are you all doing? I hope you are keeping strong!!
I have a few things I wanna cover for today.
1. I plan to do a reading today focusing on us and what we can still do that can ultimately have an effect and support RII7E.
As many of you know, I am unable to proceed with the usual method i use due to the sensitivity of the situation and there being some boundaries in place. But I am still monitoring and trying to see what little bits I can divulge when possible. Until then, we will be focusing on us.
Similarly and not related to this, I will reiterate to new people- Please do not ask:
When will SH come back?
What are the chances SH will come back?
Will SM bring him back?
When will SM bring him back?
The answer to all of these is: it depends on how long and hard we fight for the outcome. If we give up it is 100% over. Please do not ask me these questions. Instead of wanting an easy answer lets ask HOW we can make it happen, yes? I want to support everyone but we cannot just sit around hoping the outcome we want comes naturally and use a guaranteed answer as a means for motivation...that's like only studying bc you know you will get 100%. Who does that? Not only is it impossible to guarantee something with 100% certainty, but it just incites complacency. We don't need that.
2. Recently, as yall may know, I have been on the bird app to post my readings and incite some motivation....but good god, i am reminded of why I absolutely detest that app. The hyper consumption of knowing everything going on, both good and bad- yet still being within a tiny bubble community is so so so emotionally draining and even though I understood this was the cause of a lot of your negativity and depression before, I FEEL it now. I am not depressed or anything abt the situation in my personal realm, but it's more like I am forced as an empath to feel everyone else's feelings with every new post. It is soul sucking and gut-wrenching.
I wanted to stay updated and just help people, but it's insane the amount of literal life sucking energy that app has even amongst the silly bits.
So i want to say this to yall: PLEASE GET OFF OF TWITTER SOMETIMES.
Get your news, get your general vibe, like some posts, and gtfo until you need another BRIEF checkup. The longer you scroll, the more it sucks you bone dry and the more likely you see stupid things that make you upset.
Please please please get off there sometimes and spend some time in nature outside or at least on Tumblr.
My blog, while I wanted it to be a safe and positive space, has become a little tension filled due to this vibe i have been carrying with me, and i want it to end. I will be doing what I stated above too bc gosh, I really need my safety bubble back.
I hope you all heed this advise a little. It's okay to stay updated but scrolling for hours is not necessary and is going to take a toll of you mentally and emotionally even if you are not an empath.
3. I am thinking of doing live readings.
Idk abt the logistics yet, but I'm thinking a voice call situation so people can ask things realtime (this is lowkey bc i am tired of typing lately, hehe but pls do not blame me)
Some options are a Discord or maybe even just voice notes for my tumblr readings. Idk though. Yall lmk if you would bee interested in those!
I could also do little beginner lessons for new readers on a live format since some of yall are interested in learning tarot. It could be fun! Lmk if yall have any ideas.
That's all for now, I hope yall are doing okay. Just trust and wait!
For the outro pic, here is a pic of the cutest manhwa cat i have ever seen from this manhwa i have been reading lately:
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Love yall!! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
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lostinforestbound ¡ 8 months ago
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Absolutely no one asked for this but I really needed to get these out of my system, so today I present to all of you, my:
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General Lia and Cal Headcannons
Please please please share if you have random headcannons about these two! I would love to hear them! I also may make a Part 2 to this because I think about them a lot.
Lia
Lia is a very sappy drunk. When she drinks too much she'll be very emotional and teary eyed. She'll actively tell Cal and Rolan how much she loves them. Cal is very used to it, but it throws Rolan off every time.
She absolutely loves animals! If Tav doesn't beat her to it, she would absolutely take every stray cat in Baldur's Gate and keep them, much to Rolan's dismay. If he put his foot down about them not staying in the tower, she would at least go out and feed them when she has time.
When she was very young, despite odds of her losing, she would've absolutely stood up for both Rolan and Cal when they got bullied. Not just standing up for them, she would genuinely beat the shit out of anyone who dared to hurt them.
Their mother would chastise her for it at first, but eventually, she would've taught little Lia how to properly defend herself in case it happened again. She would also tell her how proud she is.
In their dynamic, Lia usually is hunting or foraging food for them if they run out on the road. She's fantastic with a bow, so she successfully hunts down rabbits, squirrels, and pick up safe berries. She has a little booklet with her that tells her which are poisonous or not.
I think she would be genuinely fascinated by druids, but the Grove incident would've put a very sour taste in her mouth. She'll probably revisit the topic in the future, but definitely not soon.
She loves doing arts and crafts of sorts! It absolutely her favorite past time outside of training or shooting her bow, such as shaping clay or building small trinkets out of wood. She also really likes puzzles, and would spend some quiet time by herself solving them no matter how long it takes her.
Lia can be forgetful of dates. She often forgets Rolan's birthday, Cal's, and sometimes even her own. The only date she remembers clearly is the day of their mom's death. When it happened it destroyed her, same with Cal. Rolan helped picked up the pieces, and she didn't realize until much later he didn't even get the chance to grieve properly.
She doesn't like fighting with Rolan, she really doesn't, but sometimes she feels as though he lacks empathy. That he should care about other people more, not just themselves. This has caused the start of many fights, much to Cal's misery. Sometimes she would go as far as calling him selfish.
She won't admit it out loud except when drunk, but she's inspired by Rolan. Not as much as Cal maybe, but his ambition and seeing his determination left a huge impression on her. It's partially why she's still so headstrong.
Cal
Cal is a talented cook! When he was old enough to do so, he took over Rolan's kitchen role when they were still young. While many mishaps happened in the kitchen due to some clumsiness, he made fantastic dishes with what they had. They didn't look pretty, but tasted amazing.
Cal, without fail, always remembers Rolan's birthday. Rolan has mentioned the date once in passing, and he never forgot it. He always gets a gift for him, whether something he bought with his own money or something handmade.
Their mother was usually the one who got Rolan gifts, including a small cake. After she passed away, he was determined to still get Rolan something. Anything.
That is the first time Cal ever baked a cake. It was an absolute mess; flour everywhere, some batter on the ground, and some icing on his face. The cake, in all honesty, looked awful. But Rolan insists it was the best cake Cal has ever made for him. Rolan cried later that night because he's never felt so appreciated.
He had no money as he was too young, so this would also be the first time he's ever stolen something. There was an higher class noble talking down to a commoner one day, so he took the opportunity and snatched one of the books in their stack when they weren't looking. That was Rolan's first ever magic book; he still has it with him always.
As their mother was a seamstress, Cal also picked up sewing. His other job within their sibling dynamic is clothing repairs, but mostly for himself and Lia. Rolan insists he can fix his robe by himself with a simple mending spell.
Cal is a very giggly drunk, though I don't believe he drinks that often in the first place. Only on special occasions such as the Tiefling party. If he drinks a little too much, he'll get real sleepy and end up passing out somewhere quiet.
When he was younger, any time he would cry after having a nightmare, he would go straight to Rolan. His big brother always held him close and put on a light show, no matter the time of night. Sometimes he goes to him and lies about the nightmare, just to see the magic show. It helps him go to sleep.
Cal looks up to Rolan more than Lia, though he loves Lia just as much. He sees Rolan as an inspiration, even when he can't do magic himself. He never fails to remind him that he's family and that he'll always love him.
I don't believe Cal is a crybaby, but he's definitely more prone to crying than the other two. He feels his emotions very strongly and aggressively. He's not afraid of crying either, he thinks it's very healthy to let yourself weep once in a while, even if there's no good reason for it. He honestly wishes Lia and Rolan would cry more; maybe then they won't explode at each other so often.
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evergardenwall ¡ 19 days ago
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a few things i've been doing and that you should do to help with feelings of anxiety/doom:
1) first, literally, disable notifications from news outlets apps, and stop watching live 24/7 tv news. like. at least, for me, it helps, because this shit triggers so much anxiety in me, and makes me spiral; i much prefer looking up the news from my own volition. even if it is also anxiety-inducing, it is not as overwhelming and i feel like i have some control/can process information better
2) spend time with your loved ones irl. hug them, talk about what you're feeling if this can help, or do an activity together that can distract you! back in april 2022, between the two rounds of the french election, i was having a full mental breakdown, and my mum took me on a day out, visiting local villages and just. getting out of the house and visiting other place and breathing fresh air helped a lot.
3) kind of a followup to 2) but, go on a walk ! pace around, breathe the outside air—i cannot stress it enough, it helps with calming down racing thoughts, at least for me :)
4) if you are having difficulty to eat/have no appetite, please, eat a little something anyway; having an empty stomach does not help. go for something easy to prepare and/or a safe food. i just had a banana and a bowl of cereal for lunch—not the most conventional lunch, i know, but at least, i ate something even though i wasn't feeling hungry and nothing motivated me to eat :')
5) if you are feeling intrusive thoughts, feeling like you are responsible for the outcome of this election, and feeling guilty for not doing enough — please, please, don't guilt-trip yourself. you did what you could. this is something way bigger than us, an accumulation of many things, including structural racism, inequalities in access to voting, the gradual rise of fascism, and the system being deeply flawed, all the harmful shit that stayed from the orange man's first term and which long-term consequences built up to this.
6) please, remember that your vote wasn't worthless. i promise. you did the right thing by getting out of your house, going to the polling station, waiting in line for hours to make your voice heard, and i am deeply thankful you did it. genuinely. and remember that this election was going to be close. i'm not saying that there isn't criticism to be made about people who refused to vote, or voted third party — they have a huge responsibility —, but you, the average person worried about the democracy, who showed up and voted blue? i do not want you to feel like your vote was useless and give up. please.
7) remember that very bad things have happened in the past too, yet we're still here. hang on this fact. we're alive, and we're here.
8) repeat of 2 but: you should hug your loved ones. and i am sending you hugs, too—especially if you're from a vulnerable demographic (a racial minority, LGBTQ+, etc.) 🫂 you are not alone!
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starlightshadowsworld ¡ 3 months ago
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Bungou stray dogs except it’s not a bounty that’s placed on the tigers head. It’s a missing persons alert on Atsushi’s.
The story goes that a teenager was newly adopted that had either run away or been taken. A poor scared child who had an ability that he couldn’t control, please someone help him.
The kind, generous (and rich) Francis Fitzgerald who had previously lost a child now going out of his way to help another lost soul. Who wouldn’t eat up such a story, especially when they have no idea what he wants said child for.
The Agency takes the case because despite Fitzgerald being American, the teen and was adopted from an orphanage in Japan. Apparently he met the now Headmaster of the place many years ago on one of his adventures.
They’d stayed in touch and Fitzgerald had visited the place to meet up with his old friend. Which is where he met his now missing ward.
It all seems above board and yet Ranpo and Dazai sense something off.
Atsushi running away from visions of a tiger and seeing missing posters for himself. He doesn’t get it, he was kicked out he knows he was kicked out. Why are people looking for him?
He’s not sure who this man it says to return him too is. But Atsushi knows immediately that he’s dangerous. He starts to avoid the police along with what he believes is the tiger.
It’s part of why he doesn’t try to steal from anyone. Because he can’t and because if he does and he’s caught they’ll take him away. And Atsushi would rather be dead and free than alive in captivity.
But then he gives in and saves a man to rob him, who turns out to be a detective.
Dazai wordlessly convinces Kunikida to play dumb and though both tell Atsushi their profession they act like they know nothing about his case. Or that they’re the ones on it.
They convince Atsushi to stick around and get to know him. Dazai nullifies his ability so he doesn’t transform that night. Atsushi is subtly questioned and eventually he tells them everything.
That he doesn’t know who this man is. That he’s not adopted and he never was, he was kicked out. And it doesn’t take a Ranpo to know Atsushi’s telling the truth.
He still joins the Agency and Dazai goes off to the Port Mafia to do some digging. They are still after Atsushi, let’s say Fitzgerald still pays a large sum for the safety return of his ‘son.’
It’s not the Port Mafia’s usual job but money is money.
Everything goes semi smoothly until the man himself shows up at the Agency and is overjoyed to see Atsushi safe and sound. And demands he return with him, and lo and behold he has official adoption papers naming him Atsushi’s guardian.
And Atsushi’s signature is on them, it’s identical and doesn’t look to be forged. Legally there’s nothing the Agency can do and Atsushi is taken away.
Before he’s taken, Dazai promises him that they’ll figure this out. That Atsushi’s home is the Agency and it always will be. It hurts all of them to watch Atsushi, clearly terrified leave with this man.
And it’s only after he leaves that Dazai and Ranpo put it together that Fitzgerald is part of the Guild. A mysterious criminal organisation that doesn’t exist to the outside world.
So that’s why they wanted the Agencies special ability license, to make them legitimate and legal ti uphold this charade.
And they just let him walk out with Atsushi.
Atsushi who glares daggers at the man before him who smiles cruelly “oh don’t look at me like that boy you’ll break your father’s heart.” Fitzgerald says sarcastically and Atsushi only glares more, trying to free himself from his shackles.
“Shut up! You might have everyone fooled but you aren’t my dad!”
Fitzgerald chuckles “no but I’m probably a step up from him, aren’t I? After all, he abandoned you and I came back for you.”
“How do you….?”
“I know you. I know you were treated horribly by your parents. That the headmaster tried to kill you and how he did it. And I know you’ve got a powerful ability that will find the book I need.”
“You couldn’t just ask a librarian?” Scoffs Atsushi trying to hide his panic. Fitzgerald scoffs “again with the snark, you must get it from your mother.” His eyes glint dangerously as he walks up to the bars separating him and Atsushi.
“And no, you are the key to finding this particular book. Tell me or don’t, I’ll get you to show me where it if it’s the last thing I do.” It’s so casual it’s almost friendly and yet Atsushi knows he’s in trouble. He has no idea what Fitzgerald is talking about.
Fitzgerald grins, cold and amused and his next words could’ve made Atsushi’s heart stop.
“I hope you said goodbye to those friends of yours, because unless they’re fireproof it’ll be the last time you ever see them. And know that it’ll all be your fault.”
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charliehoennam ¡ 10 months ago
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angel.
Pairing: Louis Bloom (nightcrawler) x F!reader A/N: i blame jake for this. lou bloom is a fucking psycho, stay away from people like him. this is purely fictional, people. this was named out of inspiration from angel by massive attack, so kudos to them as well.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, NON-CON drug use and NON-CON intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies, kiddies), crime, language, somnophilia. (consent is EVERYTHING, yall. again, this is fictional)
Word count: 5,900+ ( i think this might be the most i've ever written)
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
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It’s early morning as you’re carrying a box into your newly rented apartment.
Louis is stunned when his eyes land on you, forgetting about the water he’d been using to hydrate his plant until it drips onto his foot and snaps him back to reality.
“Ah, shit” he hissed, quickly lifting the glass up. 
Turning his attention back to the window, he watches as you enter the living room. It’d been empty for a long time; he was curious as to who would move in there. All the apartments were pretty much the same. What made this apartment so special was that it was directly across from his. With uncurtained windows, he could look right inside from his.
Hypnotized by you, he’s frozen in place. The feeling is all too foreign for him.
Louis isn’t exactly a social butterfly. In fact, he always found easier to avoid people as much as humanly possible. Not out of fear, but out of disdain. At the height of his career with Video Production News taking off, he strongly believes he’s learned to manipulate normal human emotions which he’s almost never felt.
There’s just something about you that brings out some of those unfamiliar feelings in him and floods him with desire. Attraction surely has a hand in it. No one could deny your beauty, and your body makes only more difficult for him to ignore you.
Infatuated by you, he watches you attentively from the corner of his window. He can’t let you see him. He can’t let you catching him staring at your ass curve as you bend down to pick up a box outside. The leggings you wear provoke him further, outlining your panty on the back and mound in the front.
He doesn’t even know your name yet, but you already have his imagination going wild. It’s almost like you’re calling for him.  
With his blood flowing straight down to his cock, he zones out daydreaming about what you’d look like on all fours, bent down with your face buried in his sheets. He thinks about how round your ass would look perched in the air for his gaze; how inviting your pussy would look from behind; how soft your skin must feel despite the goosebumps he’d make you feel.
Such a pretty little thing for him to violate.
His hand seems to have a life of its own as it reaches his crotch, palming his twitching cock over his gray slacks. He knows, right there and then, that he has to have you and his devious mind is already churning with a plan.
He decides to wait until the people helping you - who he assumes are your friend - leave. In the meantime, he times his exit to the precise moment everyone’s in your apartment having pizza to make a quick run to Bob’s Market around the corner.
He needs an excuse to approach you without raising any alarms in your mind. He needs you to feel safe around him; make you think he has only the most genuine interests at heart.
Chocolate chip cookies should do just that. Who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies?
The warm L.A. sun shines down on him, illuminating his deviant plan. He wonders how he got so lucky to be at the right place, at the right time. He knows he has to do whatever he can to make you his.
No one will love you like he will. No one can take care and protect you the way he can. He would kill for you. How many people could do that without fearing the consequences for you? How many would devote themselves to you and do absolutely anything to keep you, even if he has to harm you?
Entering the store, he wanders around for a minute before opening the refrigerator door and grabbing a package of the ready-to-bake cookie dough. You really should be grateful. You got him baking before he even knows your name.
Fidgeting with his keys in his pockets, he eyes the supply store across the street. A lightbulb lights up in his head with an addition to his plan.
With the cookie dough in a plastic bag, he strolls over to the supply store. The ropes on display make him stop in his wandering stride.
“Not yet,” he tells himself.
Convincing himself to control his impulse, he picks up the silicone putty he came for and purchases it with ease.
“Locked myself out of my car the other day. Gotta make sure to a get copy of it made today, but I also got some errands to run. Life in L.A. never sleeps, does it?”
With his chin tilted down and eyebrows narrowed, his chuckle unsettles the cashier although the poor terrified man nervously smiles back. There is no ignoring the chills Louis gives him.
Unsettling people is in his nature and Louis hasn’t quite learned how to tweak that part of him. He supposes he has to practice his smile a little more in the mirror.
As he arrives back to his building, he overhears one of the guys coming out of the building to collect another box. You’re nowhere in sight thankfully, so he lowers his head and pushes the sunglasses perched on his nose up along its bridge.
Once inside, he heads to the bathroom for a quick piss. As he’s washing his hands, his stoic gaze lifts. He stares at the mirror emotionlessly.
He knows right from wrong. His methods may be questionable, but they’re not done without thought and calculation.
Opening the medicine cabinet, the transparent orange bottle of sleeping pills seems to glow at him. He knows he shouldn’t. It’s morally wrong, but when has moral high ground ever stopped him before?
Tucking the bottle into his pocket, he closes the cabinet before staring at his reflection. He’s determined to do whatever he has to. He needs to have you. This is hopeless love at first sight. Many people wish for love like his.
Once the cookies are baked and cooled off, he’s stood in the kitchen assembling them into the nicest plastic container he owns when he overhears you saying goodbye to your friends down below. He rushes to the window.
If anyone of the people assisting you are in a relationship with you, this would be the time to find out, right? A kiss on the lips or – if the man is anything like the boyfriend you should have – he’d offer to stay and help you unpack. Maybe christen the new home.
Louis doesn’t even realize how he’s holding his breath until it finally fogs the glass when he breathes out. You hug the men one by one. There’s no kiss on the lips. His hopes get higher as he smirks to himself.
Your conversation is distant, but he can hear better after he cracks his window open just a little bit.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay and help you unpack?” Matt asks.
He freezes and deception grows in his chest along with a pang of anger.
“Yeah, I’m sure. You guys have done so much already with the packing and carrying all the boxes.”
“We wouldn’t mind staying longer to help you,” Tyler joins in.
“No, really. I’m good,” you chuckle at their insistence. “I got this, guys. Don’t worry.”
“Alright. Just call if you need anything else. And thank you for the pizza and beer,” Matt smiles at you. “And I’m really sorry about all this mess.”
“Will you stop apologizing? I understand entirely. Just make sure you take care of my best friend and her baby and we’re good” you smirk moving to hug Matt after hugging Tyler. Relief washes over Louis. He concludes they’re only friends.
“I’ll see you later then. Take care.”
You nod and wish the same back to Matt. You watch the boys head out towards their car as you stand in the entrance's doorway.
While you begin unpack in the early afternoon, Louis realizes he needs to wait until it’s early evening for his plan to be precisely timed with the darkness of the night.
The cookies are done and now, he has to wait.
The move was smoother than you’d expected.
You had to move out when your roommate Cara told you she’d be needing more room since she found out she and Matt were expecting a child. With him moving in and a baby to prepare for, the apartment would be even more crowded than it was at the time. And you couldn’t agree more.
It was a sudden bomb, sure, but the fact that they knew that and were willing to do whatever they could to help softened the blow a whole lot. Matt even offered to pay for the entire move, but you couldn’t let them do that. Especially with a baby on the way.
Time was all you asked for and they made sure to give you plenty of it. So, instead, he offered to help with the move physically with the assistance of his younger brother Ty.
Once the brothers drove off safely, you walk back to your apartment. Thankfully, there are only two levels to the condo, and your apartment is on the ground level.
You look around your new home as you think about where to start so you decide to set up your sound system to get some music playing. Music always helps to provide a sense of company and pass the time.
You begin with the bedroom since you figure it’ll take most of your time. Besides, it’d be nice to not have to worry about where you’ll sleep when you’re too tired to continue and decide to call it a night.
Afterwards, you move to the kitchen to start organizing everything into its rightful place. You want to make sure you have your flow down. Coffee powder, filters and mugs go above the coffee maker. Plates, bowls and silverware go near the stove. Glasses go next to the fridge. Dish towels go in the drawer by the sink.
With every item neatly and strategically placed, the feeling of independence blossoms. This is your home now. Your haven. The very air you breathe smells of freedom. You can’t help, but smile as you look around and admire the apartment, although you realize it definitely needs more furniture.
Now that you don’t have to consult anyone anymore about placing artwork on the walls or buying an armchair, you can gradually work your way into giving the apartment a more personal touch.
Soon after you set all the pots and pans in a cabinet below the counter, you hear a knock at your door. You frown as you hesitate for a moment, thinking about who it could be.
Maybe it’s Matt and Tyler coming back to pick something they’d forgotten up. It has to be; you told very few people about your move and even fewer knew your new address. You weren’t expecting to have any guests over either.
So, you walk stealthily quiet towards the door to peer through the tiny peephole.
There’s a man standing on the other side of the door. You don’t know him. You’ve never seen him before, but the plastic container in his hands intrigues your curiosity.
“He’s probably just a neighbor”, you reassure yourself.
Louis notices your shadow casting underneath the door from the other side. The simple fact that you’re already acknowledging his existence has his heart thrumming with adrenaline and excitement, which he forces himself to contain.
“She knows me now,” he thinks to himself.
Watching him glance down at the foot of the door, you realize he must already know you’re at the door. He can see you. At this point, it would just be rude to pretend you’re not home, but you’re not sure who he is.
All you can tell is that he seems pretty attractive through the peephole which isn’t really helpful, but it does entice you to open the door.
“Can I help you?”
“Uh, hi. I couldn’t help but notice you just moved in earlier today. My name’s Louis. I’m your neighbor. I live in the next building in apartment 3F.”
He doesn’t sound threatening. His voice is actually softer than his appearance. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him gives you the chills and you can’t figure out what or why.
“I’m not a raging psycho killer if that’s your concern,” he chuckles eerily. “I’ve just lived here for a few years. I always bring cookies to new neighbors,” he lies.  “Just a modest way to welcome people, I suppose. The city of Los Angeles is harsh enough. Why must we be the same?” he smiles strangely, making for an awkward moment of silence.
“Would you like me to leave them by the door?” he continues.
It’s like he can almost smell your hesitance through the door.
How does he know?
Not wanting to seem rude on your first day on the block, you unlatch the locks on the door and open it up with a tight-lipped polite smile.
God, you look even prettier up close. It’s hard for him to hide his admiration. You could never tell, but he’s battling the impulse to pin you down and fuck you senseless.  You’d look so lovely all tied up for him.
You can’t deny he has some of the most beautiful features you’ve ever seen. His clean-shaven face flaunts a few brown freckles. Faded smile lines curve around his long nose and thin rosy lips, making the latter more inviting they already are. His jaw is prominent from his tall, slim build. Large doe eyes as blue as Neptune are framed by a pair of thick eyebrows that makes his gaze even more intimidating. Dimples depress into his hollowed cheeks as he smiles charmingly at you, revealing his perfectly lined teeth.
“Thanks. That’s very thoughtful of you,” you respond with a soft voice, reaching for the container. “I’d invite you in, but my apartment is a mess right now. I’d rather you see it when it’s less chaotic.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he affirmed with a sinister smile. “Like I said, I just wanted to welcome you to the block. If you need help with anything, I’d be more than pleased to assist you in any way possible.”
He looks very friendly and very well-spoke, but you can’t shake how his vacant his eyes seem to be.
Maybe it’s the slightly greasy medium length brown hair parted to the side and tucked behind his ears. Maybe it’s how he towers over you with hunched shoulders and casually scans the apartment behind you between his words. Maybe it’s the outdated button-down shirt he’d worn that made it seem like an attempt at dressing formal.
You’ve only just met the man, but something about him has your squeezing your thighs together. Someone about him draws you in and turns you on in a way that you simply cannot explain.  
“Thank you. I will do that,” you assure him. “Sorry, what’s your apartment again?”
“I live in 3F. It’s located in the neighboring building just across.”
“3F,” you repeat making a mental note of his home number. “Yeah, I’ll stop by if I need anything.”
“Please don’t hesitate. I’m always happy to be of service. I will let you return to your previous engagement, I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted anything.” He knows he hasn’t, but he needs you to believe this wasn’t planned. “I look forward to seeing you around, Y/N. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
 “Yeah, same to you, Mr. Bloom.”
You hold your hand out to shake his. He almost swoons at your formality. Manners mean everything to him, so he reaches out and shakes your hand with gently firm grip.
The veins on his pale hands have your pussy growing wet at the thought of them inside your cunt. You’re sure he could reach your special spot with such long slender fingers. You wonder how many of them you could fit inside your pussy simultaneously.
“Please, call me Lou,” he grins baring his perfect teeth.
“Lou, then,” you smirk correcting yourself. “I will see you around. Thanks again.”
“Enjoy the cookies.”
He turns around with a smile and calmly walk down the hallways towards the exit. His hand burns with the shadowing touch of your hand lingering on his skin.
You close the door behind and lean against the wood with a curious frown. You had expected him to live on the same floor or at least in the same building.
You shake off the thought as you lock your door and admire the cookies he’d brought on your walk back to the kitchen. It really is a kind gesture, one you thought only happened in movies. And you just happen to love cookies.
The pieces of his plan have all been set and now he can only wait.
To make his time useful, he decides to sit and think about every single process of his plan. He cannot be unprepared. There cannot be any surprises.
He starts with the locks and walks to his door, standing still and hollow as he stares at the rusty and faded golden locks. Assuming all the apartments are the same, he closes his eyes to remember the details of your encounter. He remembers hearing a chain slide open and the mechanical twisting click. They appear to be the same as the locks on his door.  
He opens his eyes and studies them carefully, thinking about how to get the chain open believing it to be his only obstacle. The twist lock would be easy. His thieving days have been behind him for a while now – his company is doing great enough; he doesn’t have to steal anymore – but breaking and entering is still second nature to him. Picking a lock is hardly a challenge.
Sitting at his computer, he researches ways to unhook the chain. He quickly finds a quick and simple method that doesn’t involve leaving any evidence behind, so he grabs his tool kit and searches for the only two object he needs.
Once he’s confident enough after a few successful attempts from inside his home, he proceeds to lock his door once more and climbs out an open window. With his apartment at ground level, it allows him to climb out with ease. He leaves it open just in case his practice test turns out unsuccessful.
He walks around to the building’s entrance with the kit, a small roll of duct tape and a rubber band.
After successfully picking his twist lock open from the outside this time, he opens the door to the extent of the chain. His long arm allows him to reach inside. Once the rubber band is hooked through a link of the chain, he tapes the other end of the rubber band to the door. That way, when the door closes, the chain slides to the furthest end with the movement, unlocking itself and falling to the side to hang freely.
A grin creeps onto his lips, stretching grimly as pride fills him. Old habits die hard; he giggles knowing he can still be the sneaky thief when he needs to be.
Meanwhile, you decide to indulge on a short coffee break, so once your coffee is made, you sit on your couch to enjoy the sweet treat your new neighbor was kind enough to gift you with.
If he hadn’t already been infatuated by you before, he is now in love with you. He can’t stop thinking about your sweet nature and manners. His heart races as his mind lingers on your smile and the thought of your voice. He’s eager to learn every single detail about you.
Despite being a workaholic, he decides tonight is a special exception because you’re just special like that.
Back inside his apartment, Louis calls his second-in-command of Video Production News to inform his team he won’t be joining them on the hunt for coverage tonight.
“A more important and rather urgent setback has presented itself and, in order to prevent further undesired and unpredicted hindrances, I have to eliminate them now.”
Having worked closely to Louis, his team knew better than question him. His strict tone while reminding them to be on their best behavior only enforces that he is not to be disappointed.
It isn’t even 9 p.m. but you’re feeling beyond exhausted at this point. The coffee you had a couple hours ago was in vain. It seems to have given you the opposite effect.
You try to persist on unpacking, but your body feels so heavy already. It must be from all the exercise of moving. Lifting heavy boxes, walking up a couple flights of stairs, kneeling and standing. It’s been a very busy day and you’re just tired.
You make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Due to the weight your tired limbs and their dragging, you opt to not wash your hair. It would take too much energy that you simply don’t have. You can barely keep your eyes open as you rinse the lathered soap off your body.
You don’t even bother putting on underwear. Just a t-shirt will have to suffice because that’s all you muster before you collapse on your bed.
Its’ cozy embrace enraptures you into a deep sleep and, within seconds, you’re out cold.
Louis watches you exit the bathroom from his window. His breath hitches when he sees you drop your towel on the floor of your bedroom.
The medicine is kicking in as he predicted.
He smirks to himself, proud of his achievement. Excitement floods through him when he notices you didn’t bother much with clothes. That’ll make his job so much easier.
His true self comes forth, shedding him of his friendly – or his attempt at it - facade.
He ties his hair into a small bun behind his head.
He planned this already to make sure he wouldn’t need much. Just his camcorder, latex gloves, a key mold. This may be the first time, but it certainly will not be the last. The last object he takes along is a pocket knife that he strongly hopes he won’t have to use.
His stride is calm though his heart pounds in his chest. He prays the got dosage just right enough so you don’t wake up.
His eyes scan around as he crosses the small courtyard to your building. No one is outside; no one has seen him.
As he reaches your door again, he slides the gloves onto his hands. It doesn’t take him long to enter your apartment with quiet footsteps after all the practice he’s had.
He’s never felt closer to anyone in his life than right now.
The apartment has you all over it. These are your belongings. In a way, he feels as if he’s penetrating his way into your intimacy. The thought is enticing enough to make his cock harden a little in his pants.
He wanders around your new home with his camcorder already filming, opening boxes and cabinets and drawers as he roams. He needs to record every detail about you. What do you like to eat? What are your movie preferences? What music do you listen to? Do you read? Reading is important to him. It is a sign of intellect.
You don’t seem to have any pets. If you had a dog, it would’ve been aware of his presence already. There aren’t any bowls of food and water set out. Much like him, you seem be a loner.
The apartment is much like his. Small enough for one. No bedroom. Just a kitchen near the entrance with a window at the other end. A small bathroom and closet for your clothes.
He wonders what you usually smell like as he enters the bathroom. He finds your shampoo and condition and raises each to his nose. Then your deodorant. And your perfumes. He closes his eyes, admiring how heavenly you smell.
He makes sure to film the label of your perfume to buy one later and spray it against his pillow so he can sleep with the scent of you every night.
Can’t you see how much he loves you?
As he silently makes his way towards your living room, he gulps with anticipation. His palms grow clammy as he stares at you, asleep in your bed.
Despite his excitement, his hand reminds steady as he focuses the filming on you. For a couple moments, he stands at the foot of your bed just watching you sleep.
You look so pretty. So peaceful.
He would slaughter whoever attempted to disturb you. He knows it’s rather ironic, but he’s so captivated by you.
He can’t stay away. He wishes he could climb into your bed; that he could wrap his arms around you, inhale your scent, touch and kiss you over every inch of your body to worship you as you deserve to be worshipped.
That’ll take time, but he will make it happen somehow.
Eventually snapping out of his daydream, he moves to the dresser and pulls open a couple drawers.
The first has your jewelry and accessories. He studies them to better understand your taste hopefully for future reference. He’s encouraged to take a ring, so he could wear it around and take a part of you with him everywhere he goes.
He finds a small one that is big enough to fit on his picky. It’s nothing too special. Just a thin silver band that you happen to have a few of in different size. It would be easy for you to assume it got lost in the move, if you notice it at all.
The second contains what he is looking for: your panties. His eyes grow darker as he rummages through them, picking the sexiest ones to lay out on the wooden surface of the dress to film them better.
The thought of you wearing them for him has his cock hardened completely and leaking with pre-cum. He can feel the wet spot soaking his underwear. He would give anything to have you wear them, rubbing the lacy fabric against his face and cock with your pussy.
He takes turns smelling each of them, inhaling the sweet intoxicating scent of your pussy and fabric softener.
He finds a sexy lacy pair in his favorite color as he sets the panties back in their drawer. That one belongs to him now.
The urge to rub his cock to completion gets harder to control as he tucks the panty into his pocket. A dark thought blooms within his mind as he focuses back on your sleeping figure.
You’re so unconscious that you don’t even feel him lifting the covers. He has to bite his bottom lip when he sees you’re in the perfect position for him.
“Such a little fucking whore. Bet she loves getting rammed. Probably loves doing what Nina rarely ever did,” he thinks to himself.
You’re on your side with the top leg bent up and spread against the mattress. With your other leg stretched out underneath, providing Louis with the perfect shot of your bare pussy.
He lifts his camera to pan the frame slowly onto the sight of your pretty little puffy pussy displayed just for him.
He can’t help but palm his cock through his trousers. He needs to cum. It’s starting to hurt. His balls are just so full and his cock, so painfully hard.
He growls lowly at your exposure and freezes instantly, watching if he woke you up. You don’t stir in the slightest, not even when his long slender fingers gently part your plush lips to spread them open for his private little video.
Licking his gloved fingers, he savors the taste of your cunt and hisses contently. He smiles devilishly when you don’t react to his fingertips slowly probing your entrance. Until the moment you finally turn onto your back, unconsciously spreading your legs even wider.
He wonders if you’re awake and enjoying his little teasing, but judging by your steady breathing, you’re sleeping like a rock.
He licks his lips at the pussy opportunity splayed out in front of him.
His menacing gaze narrows on the sight between your displayed pussy as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down enough to let his cock spring free. He thinks about penetrating you and fucking you with just his tip. Would it wake you up?  
He carefully climbs onto your bed and positions himself on his knees between your legs with his camera back in hand. He spits in his gloved hand and gathers his leaking pre-cum to lube his cock up. The slick latex against his skin makes the stroking even easier.
Staring down at your beautiful folds, he wishes he could take his time, but truth be told, he’s so fucking hard already and he needs to get it out of his system.
Your cunt looks so pretty and juicy that he wishes you could use his face as a seat all day.
His cock throbs in his hand as he gently pressed his tips between your folds, pausing only to zoom the camera in on your pussy and his cock now perfectly aligned and connected.
God, it feels so perfect like your pussy was made for his cock. So warm and soft against his. He can’t imagine what you feel like inside. He wants nothing more than to pump you full of his cum until it drips out, just so he could push the leakage back inside with his cock.
The thought alone is enough to get him close. He has to be careful and slow.
He pushes his cock past your pretty lips slowly. With his mouth hanging open in an O, he closes his eyes as he fights back a moan. You feel so deliciously good and tight around him. He doesn’t want to cum to just yet though.
The movement of his hips is slow as he takes his time pushing in and pulling out. He could swear you’re wet, but he assumes it’s just his eager cock.
Carefully setting your legs to drape around his thighs for a better position, his pace picks up a little.
At this point, the friction of his cock and your perfect pussy is audible to him, but it doesn’t seem to even bother you. He doesn’t even care about anything other how deliciously heavenly your cunt feels.
He’s close. So fucking close. He pauses his movement, holding his cock inside your walls to reach up and gently push your shirt up past your chest.
He toys with your exposed tits. He needs to feel you.
Hooking his teeth under the rim of the glove at his wrist, he uses them to remove his hand from the glove. Once it’s tucked into his pockets, he reaches up to continue playing with your breasts.
He licks his lips imagining them wrap around your nipples, suckling and biting your tender flesh to mark you and let everyone know what a whore you are, but most importantly his whore.
He just has to get his mouth on them. They look too irresistible to miss what could be the only opportunity he has.
He sets the camera on the bed beside you to film himself fucking you while simultaneously sucking on your tits, kneading them each in his large hands.
He’s balls deep in your tight cunt now. You must be so damn drugged because your eyes aren’t even moving and your breathing is still steady. Even if you were dead, it wouldn’t stop him for fucking you. He just loves you that much.
After giving your breasts the well-deserved attention, he can’t hold back anymore and believes he doesn’t have to.
If you haven’t woken up by now, then pounding your pussy raw definitely won’t wake you up.
So  he grabs the camcorder again and starts fucking you harder and faster like a filthy little slut with his hand groping at your tits, making sure to get your pussy and tits all in one angle.
He wants to watch your tits bounce as he pounds your cunt mercilessly when he jacks off to the video later.
Sliding his hand to your hip to hold you steady, he relishes how the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoes through your apartment.
He wishes you could be awake to scream his name until your neighbors complain with fists to their walls.
It’s all too much.
He soon pulls out just in time to coat your pussy with his pearly white load.
You just look so pretty painted with his cum.
“My Mona Lisa,” he thinks to himself. “That’s what I’ll name this footage.”
Pulling his cock away, he lowers the camera for a close-up of his masterpiece taking his time to get every single angle of the white streaks on your flesh.
Staring intently at your cunt with wide eyes as he films, the feeling that floods him is the same at the one he felt on the night of the car crash in Benedict Canyon. This is another of his greatest accomplishments. He pants with adrenaline.
Curiously, he dips two fingers into his bodily ‘paint’ and toys with it, enjoying how slick your lips feel on his fingers. If he wasn’t so spent right now, he’d go at again and again.
He wonders how he’s going to clean you up now. He made a mess on your pussy. He can’t leave you in this state. It’ll be too obvious when you wake up in the morning.
Setting his camera on your bed to get him in the shot once again, he scoots down your bed and aligns his mouth to your coated pussy.
Snaking his arms under your thighs – letting them dangle over his shoulders – his hands reach your breasts to gently knead them. He wants to squeeze them hard, but he’s worried that might be the final drop that wakes you up.
He doesn't mind that his cum is all over your. It's really an excuse just to get his mouth on your cunt.
He takes his time letting his tongue explore your pussy, swiveling over every mound of your lips and dipping into every valley. Using his fingers to pry your pussy open, he stretches you enough to delve his tongue into your used hole.
He was careful not to cum inside you, but he yearns to taste you.
Deciding you’re clean enough, he carefully removes himself to stand and takes his camera to record each angle of your used naked figure, carefully circling around your room and zooming in your pussy, tits and face.
You look so pretty and innocent in comparison to he violated you.
Taking the advantage of your position, he quickly sets his camera on your nightstand and rushes to the bathroom to find something to clean you up with.
Locating some wet wipes under your sink, he turns the hot water to warm a couple sheets and heads back to clean you up.
He thoughtfully lowers your shirt and covers your body back up. He’s not a complete monster; there is genuine care for you in him.
He kisses your head gently before stepping back to look for any further evidence.
Heading towards the door, he finds your keys handing up on the wall. There aren’t many. Just three. So, he tests each one out to find your apartment key. Once he does, he takes the silicone putty he’d placed in an old and empty Altoids metal container.
He stamps the key into the mold twice, making sure to get both sides of the key perfectly imprinted.  
His copy of your key has to be perfect to save time for the next time.
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