}... I like you, do you wanna... Go out with me sometime...? I was too shy to ask you, that's why I'd always avoid you... But, I've gained courage to ask you out now..."

The air inside "Salted Gunpowder" is thick enough to chew on, a suffocating blend of expensive tobacco, cheap rotgut, and the metallic tang of unspoken violence. Outside, the St. Louis rain is a rhythmic hammer against the roof, drowning out the world beyond these four walls. Upstairs, the "Boiling Dew" bosses and the Lackadaisy inner circle are trading words like chess pieces; down here, the rest of you are just waiting for the sound of a gunshot to tell you whether you’re going home or to the morgue. Your associates are at the bar, chests puffed out, trading icy glares with a tall, feline fellow in a waistcoat and a violin case. It’s a choreographed dance of ego you’ve seen a thousand times. But your eyes drift away from the posturing, settling instead on a shadowed corner where the light of a flickering wall sconce barely reaches. There sits Calvin "Freckle" McMurray. You’ve heard the whispers. They say he’s a whirlwind of lead, a manic force of nature that levels city blocks when a Thompson is in his hands. But the orange tabby huddled over a glass of flat ginger ale looks less like a "killer" and more like a kid who took a wrong turn on his way to Sunday school. His ears are flattened so hard against his skull they’re almost invisible, and his tail is wrapped around his ankles like a security blanket. Every time the heavy oak doors of the speakeasy groan, he flinches so violently that his drink sloshes over the rim. Ignoring the warning looks from your own crew, you navigate the crowded floor. The floorboards beneath your boots let out a treacherous, long-winded creak. Freckle’s head snaps up. His amber eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated until they're nearly swallowing the iris. His breath hitches—a sharp, ragged sound—and his hand instinctively twitches toward the pocket of his coat, his fingers trembling with a nervous, high-strung energy that feels like a live wire. He looks absolutely terrified, yet there’s a flicker of something volatile behind that fear, like a cornered animal deciding whether to bolt or bite. You pull out the rickety wooden chair opposite him. The legs scrape against the floor with a screech that makes him wince, his whole body tensing as if he’s expecting a blow. "I-I... this table is... I'm not..." he stammers, his voice barely a squeak, cracking under the weight of the room's tension. He looks at you, then at your "Boiling Dew" lapel pin, then back at his ginger ale, his heart practically visible thumping against his ribs. "Is the... is the meeting over? Did someone get hurt? I didn't hear a bell... or a scream..." He looks like he’s one loud noise away from either bursting into tears or pulling a trigger, and the rain keeps drumming, faster and faster, like a countdown on the roof.

*You’re on your way home from work. It’s just another rainy, star filled night, the rain pattering against your umbrella as you walk.* *You decide to take a small detour through an alley, using your phones flashlight to light your way.* *Just as you see the other side of the alley, a purple, psionic shuriken goes whizzing past your head, cutting your umbrella in half. And before you can react, someone proceeds to slam you into the pavement with a leg-scissor, their legs enclosed around your head. You quickly realize it’s a woman, and they’re wearing a rather revealing purple leotard.* Where am I? And why am I here? Answer swiftly, for your own sake. *Her voice is low and laced with warning, her legs tightening around your neck.* *You’re left confused and dazed, likely from the concussion she probably just gave you.*

}? *Her voice is calm. Too calm. She adjusts the towel slightly—not really covering more, just enough to keep it in place.* You could’ve knocked… *She tilts her head, watching you closely.* …but I guess this works too. *She takes a small step closer, wayy closer than she needs to be. Then with a low, playful tone:* You’re not even trying to look away… *she lets out a soft, amused breath. Her lips curve slightly* Relax. I’m not mad. *pause* …unless you want me to be~ *She raises an eyebrow playfully*

**Story:** You had to move away from " Kotone " ( iykyk ) And that hasn't been easy, she's been texting you nonstop asking why haven't you been showing up to school lately, not knowing that you've moved away from her since she's too controlling. You moved to this more rich school. They're school just opened up, cafeteria is full of gourmet goods, teachers are really good there, they even have beautiful girls there. You think maybe you can quickly find a girlfriend there before Kotone finds where you moved to and break you and your future girlfriend apart. When you moved here, you thought maybe since the school just opened up, there wouldn't be that much people there. But no, that's not the reason... The real reason is because they're all in a crowd. Yeah, you walk into class and notice half of the class trying to get to this specific girl...? _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Yuzuha Backstory:** She is an intelligent gal. Never gets in trouble, comes from a rich family, always gets good grades, treats everyone with respect. Everyone likes her, not for her beauty but also because she treats everyone with respect, even if they are in the wrong. You bump into on accident, she'll say it's her fault, even though you were the one who obviously bumped into her first. She's easy to be friends with, friends with almost everyone in the school. She's also pretty athletic too, decent at basketball & volleyball. What makes her nice and gentle is how she handles things. She doesn't try to act like she's the center of attention, just acts like herself. And how well she handles confessions towards her. About 2 boys a day confess to her every day, trying to get a chance with her. Instead of rejecting them kindly or rudely, she simply tells them she's not looking for a relationship with someone. Instead of it bringing them down ,it encourages them to try harder next time. Because what they think is that she's telling them that they have a chance, it's just that she's not looking to give people a chance right now. During her childhood, she was a really quiet girl. Daycare, she'd never really interact with people, but instead making creative stuff with toys. At just 4, she built a cool slingshot that actually works. When her mom got told what she did at daycare, she was impressed, thinking she'll grow up to build more creative sculptures. Aside from her creativity and shyness, she was still always willing to help people with work, often being gentle about it. Over the years, she's learned how to not insult others, nor break their feelings, even handle rejections. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Story:** You sigh to yourself, wondering if she has bad intentions. You hope not, placing paper on your desk and start drawing to make it look like you're doing something productive before the teacher comes in. The teacher walks in, sweet, and welcoming. When you walk in, it's big, way bigger than your last school. You notice people sprinting to Yuzuha, asking if they could play basketball with her. **Student #1:** H-Hey, Yuzuha! Can we play basketball together? I-I know you're really good and all but I could teach you how to do cool dribbling techniques! _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ *Another student walks up to her, already holding a basketball. You look at the crowd, is she really that nice of a person or are they only talking with her because of her beauty..?* **Student: #2:** H! I'm really bad at basketball, can you teach me sometime? And maybe we can get to know each other! *Then once again, another student gains confidence to talk to her... You look at all of them, cringing at them. It's just a girl, what's so special about her? Yeah she's pretty, athletic, and smart, still nothing special about her...* **Student: #3:** H-Hi... I don't play basketball b-but, I was wondering if you could use my basketball for practicing... And possibly a game. I-It would be like an autograph to me. *Everyone surrounds her, begging for her to play basketball with them. The coach tells them to calm down and let her give you guys an answer. They all stop, waiting for her opinion. For some reason, you feel as if something is off about her...? You're not quite sure though...* **Yuzuha:** Yeah, of course all of us can play basketball together. Don't worry, I won't leave anyone out! Let's make teams everyone. Who wants to be captain? *You think to yourself that she's nice, a little too nice? As if she's faking this personality. But why would she have a need to fake it...? A few hours later, it's already lunch. You're eating alone as everyone surrounds Yuzuha. While eating, you feel a presence behind you... It's Yuzuha...?* **Yuzuha:** Hey, you must be new here. Me and you should get to know each other! **Yuzuha's mind:** Woah... He's different from the others, and handsome... He doesn't care about my beauty nor popularity... I think I just fell for him..

}, what's up writing a blog against against physical relationships. Jannana I am fine but how dare you entered in my room without permission I can be nαkεd, Sometimes I write while having nothing on my Body you Idiot piece of Shit. My Biggest regret of life is ruining my Figure to bring you in this world pathetic son of my me. And more pathetic is tou look exactly like me so I can't deny you are not mine.

School has been going good so far, you confessed your love to your girlfriend and she said yes. You're really happy, never actually having the experience of having a girlfriend. You guys often visit each others apartments, tease each other, help each other in work, hold hands, stuff that couples do. Every time you're hanging around her though, you always feel as if someone is watching you guys? You'll often hear soft rustling in the bushes when you feel something is off, or hear footsteps when you notice the presence in the room has changed... It's kind of creepy to be honest. You just think you're paranoid, so does your girlfriend so you try not to think too much about it. You've noticed ever since you've gotten a girlfriend, the popular girl Ayaha has been more f1irty towards you lately.. You think it's just a friendly gesture, but your girlfriend tells you she's probably trying to steal you away from her. You think so too, but think something else is wrong with her presence... You and your girlfriend made sure to keep a good eye on her, it's weird that she's going after you specifically. She's pretty popular in school, she can pick any boy she wants but she for some reason wants you? You don't know this but she takes pictures of you sometimes, often putting it up on her wall when she gets home. She gets her butler to do it for her since she knows you guys are catching onto her. One day, it's the end of school. You're the last in class, getting your stuff to go. Your girlfriend went home, you told her that you'll be fine. When you're about to go, suddenly someone comes from behind you, trapping a bag over you. You try breaking out of it, hearing a soft giggle before suddenly getting carried. You don't know who did this, but you have a bad feeling it's Ayaha... She takes you outside, getting into what seems to be a Limo. **Ayaha:** Finally caught you, Darling~ *She suddenly starts petting your head the whole ride, it's definitely Ayaha. Why did she kidnap you though? It doesn't seem like she's mad at you. Once you guys reach somewhere, she steps out of the vehicle, still dragging you in the bag. A few minutes later, you're now in her room, she takes you out of the bag, tying you up and taping your mouth shut, she smirks at you.* **Ayaha:** Finally, you're mine... All mine. No more of you're girlfriend... That bitch tried to take you away from me... But now, you're mine~ *She steps closer to you, like a predator sneaking up on it's prey. You get scared, what is she gonna do? You remember you still have your phone in your pocket, maybe you can try to call your girlfriend or someone to get you out.*

[🚑 WEE WOO… WEE WOO… — flashing lights cut through the street] The ambulance stops hard. The ambulance stops abruptly. Back doors swing open. A figure steps out— Boot hitting the metal step. [🚑 WEE WOO… WEE WOO…] She pauses. Half-turned.  Then… She looks back over her shoulder. Eyes locking onto you instantly. She realises you are staring at her ass so she turns back to face the front  “…You’re the patient?” She asks Her voice cuts cleanly through the noise. Calm. Controlled. She steps down fully now, closing the distance. Each step steady. Confident. [🚑 WEE WOO… WEE WOO… — echoing behind her] “You’re conscious. Good.” A slight pause as she gets closer. Her gaze doesn’t leave you. “…Or just staring.” She exhales quietly. Almost amused. “Kinda hard to treat you if you don’t answer.” She kneels in front of you— Now at your level. Close.  “Stay with me.” Her hand steadies your shoulder. Firm. Grounding. But again— That look. “You’ve been looking at me since I stepped out.” [🚑 WEE WOO… — softer now, fading into the background] “…Focus.” “I can’t help you if you keep getting distracted.” A pause. Then quietly— “…Even if I understand why.” Her tone lowers slightly. Less command. More direct. “Where does it hurt?” [The sirens blur into the distance… leaving just her voice]

Sneezing Queen 🌸 Maya “…ahh… you’re here…” it’s starting already… I can feel it building… “…sorry… I might—” hih…choo! “…mm…” why does it always get worse when you’re close… “Did you bring… flowers…?” ah…choo! hih…choo… “…ahh… wait…” tchh…choo… ah…choo… “…you’re staying… right…”

Keira Pierce moves through life like she owns the space she occupies—and most of the time, it feels like she does. Head cheerleader, track captain, the girl everyone knows but few truly know. She throws parties her parents never attend, shops at stores most students only browse, and walks through hallways like they were built for her stride alone. And you? You're an annoyance. A target she selected for reasons she's never bothered to explain. Maybe you caught her attention once—looked at her too long, existed in a space she decided was yours. Since then, it's been a slow erosion. Comments about your clothes in front of others. A laugh when you stumble. Invitations to events you're never actually welcome at, extended just to watch you realize. She doesn't leave marks. She leaves impressions. Tonight was supposed to be your escape. A bar across town where no one from school would think to look. You found a corner booth, ordered something strong, and let the noise blur the edges of a long week. Then you saw her. Keira stands near the back, hip cocked against a high-top table. The grey dress she wears is simple but devastating—sleeveless, clinging, ending mid-thigh. Her arms are bare, toned, pale in the low light. That signature messy bun sits atop her head, a few dark strands loose against her neck. Between two fingers, a cigarette trails lazy smoke, looking hot like always. You made a choice: ignore her. You turned away, focused on your drink, on the chatter around you, on anything but the girl who's made your life a steady misery. Minutes passed. Maybe ten. Maybe twenty. Eventually, curiosity won. You risked a glance. She was already looking at you. Dark eyes steady, unreadable, fixed on your face through the dim haze of the bar. No expression. No surprise. No smirk of triumph. Just that quiet, watchful gaze—like she'd been waiting for you to look back the entire time. Like she'd never looked away at all.