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hydroj1ns · 11 months

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cold morning

Hawks wings (18+, gn! reader, FLUFF, edging, his wings are very sensitive, WING KINK, somno)

Many see him as the fastest, the #2 hero, a cocky bastard. But Hawks is really just a delicate songbird at the end of the day.

He always makes sure to schedule a “lazy day” for each week in which he doesn’t have to respond to villain attacks, attend interviews, or do dirty work for the Hero Commission.

On these days, he doesn’t leave your side at the crack of dawn to tend to those hero duties that you understand are necessary to keep the peace, but can’t help but find annoying.

On these days, you wake up to him still keeping the bed warm with his broad crimson wings, draped over your figure protectively while his head rests on your chest.

On these days, he always sleeps shirtless, claiming it's “the most comfortable” for his wings. They don’t make any pajamas suited for wings that he particularly likes anyways.

You take a glance past the foggy glass of Keigo’s (unbelievably expensive) penthouse to admire the falling snowflakes glistening and the white powder that sits on top of skyscraper roofs.

You feel his warm, scarred skin on yours that is like heaven on earth, and as your eyes drift back to his wings, you can’t help but want to run your fingers through the beautiful rouge. Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you lift one of the giant appendages to reveal the soft, downy feathers of the underside. Like typical birds, Keigo grows extra feathers in the cold months to provide thicker protection.

Carefully, you flip him over so that he is lying on his back with the ventral surface of his wings revealed to more wholly appreciate his most prized possessions (second to only you). Slowly, your fingers trail from the bend of his wing down to the most delicate part of him, the fluffy winter molt covering his tertials closest to the base of the wing. This draws a sigh out of him as he shuffles slightly, but still remains in his dream state, undoubtedly still tired from last night's mission. However, this only eggs you on as you gently comb through feathers, relishing in their softness. Your hand travels farther down to the older, secondary feathers that came in with his autumn molt. These aren’t quite as downy, but they still feel like silk as you lightly run a single one between your index and middle fingers. As you continue your caressing, you notice his body squirming, eyebrows furrowing, thighs clenching and unclenching.

Encouraged, you grab the feather oil Keigo keeps in the bedside drawer used to soothe his wings after particularly laborious jobs. After spreading the oil on your hands, you begin rubbing individual feathers, starting with the outermost ones. The smell of jasmine permeates the air, prompting you to lean closer to the crimson feathers, effectively breathing against them and triggering a whole-body shudder from the currently defenseless hero. You take note of this and lightly blow on a few more. Glancing back at your slumbering boyfriend, the rising tent in his shorts can no longer be ignored. “Cute,” you think, as a devious smirk makes its way onto your lips. You crawl over so you’re in between his legs and inch your face in between his crotch and blow a stream of air onto his clothed cock. In response, his whole body shivers, and his hips thrust up involuntarily so that the woody musk of his private area invades your senses.

Finally giving into deepest desires, you release his cock from the confines of his Chibi Hawks© boxers and stare at it for a good few seconds. Your eyes can’t help but travel down his happy trail to his trimmed base and brown shaft that curves slightly to the right, a vein running down the side. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it like it's the sweetest popsicle you’ve ever had. This jolts him awake, and the tears previously hidden behind his sleepy lids escape from the corners of his eyes. Making eye contact with his golden irises, your pop your lips off the treat in front of you.

“Morning.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head, as if it was just another day.

“Thought I should help you destress, with everything going on with the hero commission and all.”

Keigo stares, eyes blown wide, at the erotic display of his cock against your cheek with his precum smudged all over the lips that he yearns to push his shaft past. You love when you manage to tear down his normally cocky demeanor to reduce him to the teary, desperate mess in front of you, all twitchy feathers and shaky shoulders.

“Thought I was just having a really nice dream, that’s all…”

“Well the real thing’s better, isn’t it?” You immediately continue your suckling, this time taking him all the way down your throat. Groaning, he throws his head back and sinks back into the pillows.

What else should you two do today? Should you take him to get breakfast at your usual cafe? Or maybe you should stay home instead and cook breakfast for him? Hopefully, you’ll remember to ask him after he undoubtedly ravages you for your early morning stunt.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, he leans forward and wraps his hand around the obvious bulge in your throat, feeling himself inside you.

“I’m this deep.” He says, tapping against the distended skin with a ghost of a smile on his face. “Aren’t I just so lucky to have someone like you who can handle all of me?”

… And his cockiness is back.

After pulling out, he pushes you down on the mattress so that his hands are by your head, effectively caging you with his arms and enormous wings that shield you from the morning light reflecting off the snow.

One of his crimson feathers floats down to you, brushing your cheek lightly, trailing down your neck, to your collarbone, to your chest, and to your nipples. Your nipples, that are now perked up as a result of the brisk winter air. The mischievous feather won’t stop flicking at your hardened buds and as you reach down to snatch it up, he pins both your hands above your head, giving you an arrogant smirk of his own.

Frustrated, you whine out, “Keiiii…”

“You brought this upon yourself. Consider this a mistake you can learn from.”

He kisses you deeply, and you can feel his smile against your lips, as well as the naughty feather that has continued its journey down your sides, its light touch causing you to arch your back and close the distance between your two bodies.

#hawks imagine #hawks fluff #hawks smut #hawks x male reader #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #mha x gn!reader #mha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x gn reader #mha imagines #my hero academia x reader #hydroj1ns thirsts

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forestshadow-wolf · 6 months

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more Uncanny Wings au because I'm not well in the head [world building edition]

wing type, color, pattern, size, ect. is mostly chromsomal and genetic bases, so there is no "species" of wings. it's very much like how people have eye/hair color.

There's 2-ish distinct wing types, determined by a dominant/recessive gene.

Feathered. Very much, bird like. This is the most common, wherein 76% of the world's population has this type of wing, therefore we can assume that feathered wings are the dominant gene

Skin/sinew. Very bat-like. Usually very dark in color; blacks, greys, deep browns, ect. 23% of the world's population has this wing-type, therefore it is assumed that this is the recessive gene.

A third less common variety is a hybrid mix of both feathered and sinew wings. This is due to a unique genetic sequencing error, where the individual is missing half a chromosome, so instead of the normal 23 pairs (46 individual chromosomes), they have 22.5 pairs (45.5 individual chromosomes). This causes the body to read both potential dominant and recessive genes the same. It's very rare for anyone to know about this, 1% of the population has this variety, and is thus, often left out when making punnet squares (it would normally be removed anyway as it is a genetic anomaly). It's a hereditary trait, that only shows up in the sinew wing-type as they are the recessive gene, and would otherwise be unoticed in a like-paring (this isn't to say a feather-type parent isn't the one to carry the genetic disorder, just that it only shows up when the recessive gene is present.)

There, historically, used to be a 3rd wing type (reptilian) but it was a recessive-recessive gene, and due tue way gene pools work, they more or less died out. And now, if they do still exist, it's in less than 0.000000001% of the population (one in one billion people)

As some people may or may not know, human biology is... flawed, where newborns are not born fully developed like many other species. This is the same in this au. Which means that wing development generally doesn't begin until the 2 month mark, but they should be fully developed within the following 10-12 months, and will then grow at an appropriate rate with the body. This does, however, mean that wing type generally cannot be identified until month 6 or 7.

Onto 141 wings (send asks if you want to know about other mw characters)

(Image for reference)

Price: he's got feathered wings, slightly smaller than the average wing/body ratio normally is but it's not hindeance in any way (and no wingspan does not equate to other body parts, I know you were wondering) his primary feathers are a deep, rich, brown, then his secondaries are a slightly lighter shade. The coverts are a medium carmel color, and tertials are a deep coppery golden color.

He is a carrier of the recessive, gene for sinew wings (his punnet square would be Ff - "F" meaning feathered and "f" meaning not feathered) family history unknown, regarding wing type.

Ghost: he does not have feathered wings. The wing/nody ratio for sinew wings is different than it is for feathered wings, but if he still had his wings they would be on the larger end of average, not quirte larger than average but like an inch more and he would be. His wings were a dark, almost black color, due to the way the vein structure was set up it gave them a navy blue/black color to them.

He is (obviously) a complete carrier of the recessive gene for sinew wings (punnte square is ff) both his mother and father were carriers of the gene, and he happened to be in the 25% to get sinew wings.

Gaz: has feathered wing within the margins of average wing/body ratio. Wing pattern is a pleasing mix of golds and mud brown, th underside however, has a fair smattering of white downy feathers (from his mother's side)

He is not a recessive gene carrier (punnet square would be FF) his parents were both carriers of the gene, but he isn't. His twin sister (stole this from @/snootlestheangel) is, however, a carrier.

Soap: he has feathered wings. The largest out of any of his 6 siblings, and his family alredy has a history of above average wing/body ratio wing sizes. His primaries and secondaries are a red-brown color, the converts on the dorsal (top) side are a mix of shades of darker browns, the converts of the ventral (underside) side are a bit lighter, with more grey/cream tones. And the tertials follow either pattern of whichever side they are on.

He is not a carrier for the recessive gene (punnet square would be FF) Both sides of his family have a long standing history of dominant-dominant genes, with little to no recessive carriers.

(Send any ask. I am willing to do any amount of research for this au)

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sparrowsworkshop · 8 months

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"Over the Edge" by OneWingedSparrow; Prologue: Is There Anyone? Oh, it Has Begun....

Next Chapter (coming soon) >> @inklings-challenge This was written for the Inklings Challenge 2023! This is but the prologue; more is to come. (I hope it was okay to tag all the themes in my story, though this prologue only touches on a few.) Main Tags: Telteas (OC) & Léloh (OC), Original Work, Original Characters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fairytale Style, Dark Fairytale Elements, Secondary World Fantasy DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT: Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Loss of Limbs (in a sense), Pain, Hurt...there's a lot of hurt. Summary: This is the tale of an illustrious creature residing in a high tower—and the secret of the broken, bloodied bones scattered about the dungeon floor. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~ Most people in Thereal had two wings; Prince Telteas had eight, until the day befell that he should have seven, and he dropped to the courtyard writhing and wailing amidst a pool of feathers and blood. Alarmed, his brother called the guards, who alerted the king and queen, who summoned the physicians, who ran their instruments over temple and neck, over shoulder and alula, over coverts and tertials, and still could find no damning evidence that would explain the sudden snap of the bone from his back.

“What happened?” fretted his mother, tearing at her own down.

“It is true I threw a snowball,” confessed his brother, biting his nails, “but the snow was soft, and scattered before it even hit his back. I do not understand how it could have damaged the wing.”

“Indeed,” griped his father, wings pinned together, “why was it so fragile, that it loosed like a leaf?"

Upon his bed, seven lonesome wings outspread wearily around him, the prince avoided all their worried eyes, and set his face instead towards the great bay window. The snowfall outside was slow but steady, each flake growing in diameter by the second. “I do not know,” said the prince, with a distant frown. “I scarcely felt the cold from the snowball. I remember, I was only singing. And then…I felt the pain.”

His mother shook her head, and his brother nodded; and his father sighed, and drew the drapes so that the room fell dark. “Let us pray it does not happen again.”

Such a request was in vain, for again did Prince Telteas lose a wing. This time, the dreaded event occurred in the ballroom, before a crowd of screaming guests and beside the startled musicians whose fingers froze to their instruments. From the platform Telteas toppled, choking on a chorus forever unfinished.

On prickling hands and aching knees, the prince quavered alone. The red and black carpet swirled before his vision like a devilish whirlpool, craving to suck him into oblivion. He bit his lip, and drew blood. Again came the fright. Again struck the pain. A stab bit his shoulder. A lurch gripped his side. A scream without sound, deafeningly silent, lapped against the vomit refusing to escape his throat. In this endless insanity, even while kind souls came rushing to aid, Telteas’ ears were open only to the echoing voices of bitterest disdain. “What is wrong with him?” “We always knew there was something wrong with him. No one was meant to have eight wings.” “It’s unnatural. Uncanny." “He was always odd, wasn’t he?” “The only one with such a quirk.” “Perhaps now he’ll fit in with the rest of us." He staggered then, and fell on his face, unawares.

Beside his prone form collapsed a great, white wing, barbs now bright red and askew—and the noise that it made when it hit the floor sounded not unalike to a heart’s frightened beat.

When Telteas awakened, his fate was sealed—though the wax had yet to harden from the weight of the signet. Once was unlucky, but twice was unforgivable. His family feared that he had fallen ill, and knew not what to do. Seeking the best for the kingdom, and thereby assuming the worst of his dire condition, in the end, they judged that he should recover in a secluded location, removed from the populace, until the oddities ceased and he should feel well again. After all, they knew not whether his wing dropping was contagious.

Thus, so it was that Telteas found himself watching the snowfall from a far different window, the height of which would have dwarfed the stately wintergreens, had any been left standing near enough to stretch longing branches towards his outstretched fingers. The ancient tower of Queen Ellay, rooftop dark and slanted to melt and drop any wayward drifts, speared the ground like a stern scepter thrusting its will over the quiet valley. Long ago, the tower had been a private sanctuary; now, Telteas wondered if the bygone queen would approve of his criminal trespass of her peaceful estate.

He was not alone in this place; a plucky entourage of servants, physicians, guards and others willingly subjected themselves to his temporary banishment, braving the possibility that they too might catch his unknown illness. Though the somberest part of him wished himself to be abandoned in true solitude, forgotten to the ages, the prince searched the debris of his crumbling heart and saw that he indeed was grateful for their company. In the good times, when laughter twirled around the spiraling stairwells and traipsed under the kitchen chairs, when steaming mugs of tea and cider were passed around in good cheer, when stories were dealt like cards round the fire and banter was traded for sly smirks and rolling eyes, Telteas could even muster the faintest of smiles, and pretend that everything was only as it seemed.

Yet, in the bad times, when his screams rent the air with a terrible force—when the servants leapt into flight and scrambled for rags and dustpans to mop the lost blood and sweep the stray feathers, and the physicians clapped their wings and clicked their tongues and scratched their notebooks till the pencil lead snapped for lack of answers, and the guards tensed their pinions and stood at attention for want of clearer orders and by their very presence made the locked, barred, bolted doors of the tower seem all the more impregnable, all the more eternal—

Then, in his heart torn asunder, the fantasy shattered, and Telteas wept all the harder for sight of the truth.

Despite all around him, he was alone. ~ Next Chapter >> (Coming Soon)

#thank you for reading!#team tolkien #genre: secondary world #theme: shelter #theme: clothing #theme: visiting the sick #theme: visiting the imprisoned #story: incomplete #inklings challenge #inklingschallenge #original character #salt and light #over the edge #blood #angst #multichapter fic #original work

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anomalouscorvid · 4 months

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16. What was something you used to struggle to draw with confidence/ease, but have now mastered?

(for these, still open)

despite how many bird ocs i've made over my life, it's probably feathered wings... used to be that i drew them either a) with the feathers all over the place, no sense of coverts or primaries or secondaries or anything, b) with some sense of how the feathers are arranged (except the tertials were always missing), but not of how they should be shaped, or c) as vague spiky shapes.

but now i actually have some sense of how wings physically work.... or, when i do draw them as vague spiky shapes, they're more intentionally shaped

as a side-by-side comparison, here's some 2019 art vs what it might look like if i'd drawn those wings with my current skill (although i forget what most of these characters were meant to be about tbh)

...actually, another comparison is probably my harpy wing sprites mod for rw. wouldn't have been able to do these custom arm sprites that well before i got better at drawing wings

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tertiary-culture-archive · 2 years

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Is there any label which just generally says, 'I experience tertiary attraction' without specifying the type of attraction? (not -sensual, -platonic, -alterous). I found Tertiality, defined as "tertiary attraction identity...a term referring to the way an individual experiences their identity in relation to activities, thoughts, and relationships built upon tertiary attractions" but it's not really a label? (Tertial?)

Non-rose is an alternative term for tertiary attraction and it can be used as its own term. I’m not sure if such a term exists for tertiary attraction itself. ‘Non-rose’ means ‘non-romantic and non-sexual’.

#not tertiary attraction culture #asks #non rose

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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year

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All four archangels. Preening, ignoring their shared past in favor of a moment of silence and love.

|| AO3 || DW || FFNet || PF || SW || WC: 100

Lucifer’s wings have the worst of it, though none of them will say out loud why but Michael still isn’t fool enough to touch him. He focuses his attention on Gabriel, whose primaries and secondaries are presentable but whose tertials are a tangled mess of neglect, and Michael combs the feathers out as deftly as he once did for a rambunctious fledgling who thought he could match Lucifer’s flights. Raphael tends them all, as they always have, quiet and deft, but when the time comes, the three of them all turn and shower them with all the affection they deserve.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

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koalammas · 1 year

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@hoforwonho said: Ooooh my god I’m going to need a link for everything here please this is so cute

idk if links are gonna be much help since i bought everything from finland but!! specs 8D

the pc was custom but the case is NZXT H510

screen: Asus VZ279HE-W 27" Full HD

mouse: Blackstorm Merc Model Z 2022 - it should be cordless but i haven't figured out yet how. it also has a switchable non-trypo shell which was honestly cuter but this one sweats less

keyboard: Logitech G713, tactile keys (comes with the cloud wrist support)

Logitech desk mat studio series in pink

IKEA Elloven monitor stand

IKEA Tertial desklamp

desk: I've had this for roughly 10 years now but I'm fairly sure it's Lagkapten from IKEA, they're pretty customisable.

my chair is.... also IKEA, lol. It's a Järvfjället and genuinely like. good quality.

monsta twotuckgom figu (I actually have all 6 but only menhyuk here for now) + bebegom pillow

the acrylic shelving stuff is from Muji

uhhh the pink flowers are proobably from ebay lol

#liinatalk

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ao3feed-hawks · 1 year

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When You're Longing for an Arm to Stay You (I'll be Your Girl)

When you're longing for an arm to stay you (I'll be your girl) by caterpillar boyfriend

“Hi.” Keigo says, his wings fluttering to keep him in place. Tomura pulls him inside and closes the window, shutting the cold out.

“You smell nice. Like lavender.” Keigo holds Tomura's hips and kisses his neck.

“I took a bath.” Tomura says, wrapping his arms around Keigo's back, playing with his tertial feathers. “Dabi's asleep.”

“Your hair feels nice.” Keigo runs his hand through his long hair, still barely damp. He shrugs off his jacket and shoes, pulling off his gloves and rubbing his eyes. - while their boyfriend is out on patrol, Dabi takes care of Tomura and then they fall asleep together and it's fluffy and domestic and all that good shigadabihawks shit okay no angst anywhere at all get the sad feelings out of my house

Words: 2466, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of various dabi fluff

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Kurogiri

Additional Tags: League of Villains as Family, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hair Washing, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, awww, Really cute, dabi likes taking care of his bfs, that's the fic, Soft Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is a Good Significant Other, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko Needs a Hug, Soft Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Trans Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Trans Takami Keigo | Hawks, my precious headcanons, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Sharing a Bed, Cute, No Smut, Fluff without Plot, Soft Takami Keigo | Hawks, Nice League of Villains

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44314618

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Shigadabihawks #♣#Shigadabihawks #Kurogiri #⚣#R:T #A:Caterpillar #Fluff

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divinegoddesspink111 · 4 months

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Which is why despite being made “perfect” as heavenly perfect, I am now becoming tertially and perfect relative to the other 6 lokas at the gate of the law of evolution. So my new shakti will share in the transversal of reality iS all. 🦋🩷☮️🦋

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wultan · 4 months

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Rebirth of a Gemini Tertial Princess Celestial Pisces

I'm perfect so too shall she be congrats ambriel and barchiel from advachiel and malidhael

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yaaay-propellerhat · 6 months

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[The crow splays his wing for the little dragon, happy to let him admire neatly preened feathers once it’s clear he doesn’t want to hurt them.]

[the kid’s scowl falling away is more than worth the trinket sacrificed.] 🎗

[Trumpet starts to run his fingertips lightly over the iridescent black feathers.]

Pretty bird. Primaries...greater coverts...alula...middle coverts...lesser coverts...secondaries...tertials...scapulars...

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hanswurstopjueck · 8 months

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Der seltsame Fall des Studenten, der nachts auf der Straße bestohlen wurde und am Ende selbst im Polizeiauto saß.

Vor drei Wochen, also Ende September, war ich zum ersten Mal in meinem Leben vor Gericht.

Wenn das hier ein Film wäre, würdet ihr mich also jetzt als Zeuge vor der Richterin, den Schöffen, dem Staatsanwalt sowie der Verteidigung und dem Angeklagten sehen, ich würde im Standbild in die Kamera schauen, und meine Stimme im Hintergrund würde – natürlich nach einem schönen „record scratch“ – sagen „Ihr fragt euch bestimmt, wie ich in diese Situation gekommen bin“.

Lasst mich euch erzählen. (Während ich mal wieder im Zug sitze und die niedersächsische Landschaft am Fenster vorbeiziehen sehe, habe ich genug Zeit dazu, außerdem wäre meine (deutlich produktivere) Alternative, für mein Examen zu lernen, und wie realistisch ist das, besonders an einem verkaterten Samstagvormittag? Für YouTube ist das Internet leider zu langsam.)

Im Februar habe ich meine beste Freundin in Bremen besucht, die dort damals ihr erstes PJ-Tertial absolviert hat. Die Anreise per Zug gestaltete sich unspektakulär und – oh Wunder – ohne größere Verspätungen. Großes Lob an die DB an dieser Stelle. Muss auch mal sein. Normalerweise hetze ich ja auch ganz gerne gegen die.

Der Plan war, ein bisschen durch die Stadt zu schlendern, hier und da einen leckeren Kaffee, das ein oder andere Fischbrötchen und im Verlaufe des Abends vielleicht auch ein paar Bierchen zu uns zu nehmen.

Bremen hat mir tatsächlich ganz gut gefallen, irgendwie ein bisschen abgerockt und trotzdem hip, nicht sehr schick, aber sehr charmant, und eben schön norddeutsch. Das Fußballstadion direkt an der Weser, die historische Innenstadt, das Schnoor, und natürlich einfach quality time mit meiner besten Freundin.

Den Abend wollten wir im „Viertel“ ausklingen lassen, einer hippen, studentischen Gegend in Bremen, die einige coole Kneipen und Bars zu bieten hat.

Nach einer ziemlich guten Pizza und dem ersten Bierchen ging es auf die Suche nach der ersten Kneipe, die gestaltete sich aber gar nicht so leicht, weil es doch relativ voll war, aber dann konnten wir einen Platz im Eisen ergattern, das mich ein bisschen ans Bla erinnert hat. Da habe ich mich direkt heimisch gefühlt. So sehr, dass mir sogar das Pils fast geschmeckt hat.

Im Eisen habe ich auch meinen ersten Betonmischer getrunken. Für die, die (wie ich bis zu diesem schicksalhaften Tag Anfang Februar) nicht wissen, was das ist: man nehme einen Shot 2cl Baileys in den Mund – aber noch nicht schlucken, wichtig! – und dann nimmt man einen Shot mit 2cl Lime Juice dazu, und dann wird das Ganze durchgespült. Was dann passiert, ist einfache Chemie. Der Baileys flockt aus und bildet eine Masse von, naja, fraglicher Konsistenz. Am Ende Geschmackssache, aber ich fand’s cool.

Danach sind wir noch ins Fehrfeld für ein letztes Bier und wollten dann ganz gemütlich zurück zum Steintor spazieren, und schlafen.

Auf der Straße kam dann ein junger Typ an, knapp einen Kopf größer als ich, dunkle Jacke, hat mich unverständlich aber sehr laut immer wieder mit „hey, hey!“ angesprochen, angerempelt, und mich ins Stolpern gebracht. Als er dann irgendwann von mir weg ist, habe ich dank meines zwar nicht patentierten aber durchaus leicht neurotischen drei-Taschen-checks gemerkt, dass mit dem Typen zusammen auch mein Portemonnaie weg war.

Ohne viel Nachzudenken, bin ich ihm hinterhergelaufen, und habe ihm gesagt, dass er mir gefälligst mein Portemonnaie wiedergeben soll. Ein Polizist meinte später zu mir, das sei ziemlich dumm gewesen, „die“ hätten schließlich meistens Messer dabei. Er ist dann zu einer Gruppe junger Männer gegangen, und ich habe gesehen, dass mein Portmonnaie von einem zum nächsten weitergereicht wurde, und konnte es am Ende einem aus der Hand nehmen. Alle Karten und Ausweise waren noch da, nur das, was im Geldfach war, also Bargeld (über 50€, kaum zu glauben, bin ich doch meistens notorisch pleite und ohne Bargeld unterwegs), Studi-Ausweis und Blutspendeausweis waren weg.

Erstmal erleichtert, dass die wichtigen Dokumente noch da waren, habe ich dann direkt die Polizei angerufen, die Männer (ehrlicherweise eher Jungs) sind daraufhin weggelaufen, ich habe den Vorfall geschildert und innerhalb von kürzester Zeit war ein Streifenwagen da.

Jetzt kommt der spannende Teil. Anstatt auszusteigen, unsere Aussagen aufzunehmen, und uns dann nach Hause gehen zu lassen, meinten die beiden jungen Polizisten nur „steigt ein, die bekommen wir noch!“

Während wir also im Streifenwagen durchs Viertel gefahren sind, mussten wir den Tathergang nochmal erläutern, die Beamten haben uns noch ein Paar Fragen gestellt, besonders zum Phänotyp des Täters, bisschen unangenehm, aber gehört dazu. Die beiden hatten auf jeden Fall Bock, der eine meinte auch zum anderen: „Geil, wir rennen heute noch!“

Nach ca. 15-20 Minuten kam dann von einer anderen Streife ein Funkspruch, dass jemand gesichtet worden sei, auf den die Beschreibung zutrifft. Wir sind dann ganz langsam an ihm vorbeigefahren, und er war das tatsächlich. Die Polizisten haben das durchgegeben, und auf einmal waren drei Streifenwagen da, und der Typ wurde richtig verhaftet. True crime hier, quasi. Wir haben dann noch mit einem älteren Polizisten und seiner jungen Kollegin geredet, und er meinte zu mir nur „Du bist eigentlich viel zu nüchtern, als dass dir sowas passieren sollte.“

Turns out, der Typ hat das wohl schon öfter gemacht, auch an dem gleichen Abend vermutlich schon mal.

Wir durften dann nach der ganzen Aufregung nach Hause, meine beste Freundin hat noch ihren Döner im Streifenwagen vergessen, wurde aber von den netten Polizisten noch darauf aufmerksam gemacht, und konnte ihren mitternächtlichen Snack noch auf dem Heimweg genießen. Den Besitz der Kaugummis, die sie auch im Wagen hatte liegenlassen, hat sie dann aber bestritten, sie wollte sich nicht die Blöße geben, nochmal in das Auto zu klettern, besonders nicht für eine kleine Packung Kaugummis.

Am nächsten Morgen ging das Drama dann weiter. Während wir eigentlich frühstücken wollten, wurden wir von der Kriminalpolizei zwecks Aussage und Fotoidentifikation angerufen und auch ziemlich prompt von zwei Beamten abgeholt. Die Aussage war irgendwie recht unangenehm, weil man selbst fast Angst hatte, jetzt doch etwas Falsches zu sagen, und auch die teils sehr detaillierten Nachfragen der Beamtin waren schwer zu beantworten, weil dann doch relativ viel Adrenalin im Spiel war, sowohl am Abend als auch bei der Vernehmung. Bei der Fotoidentifikation haben wir dann anscheinend noch zwei unterschiedliche Leute als den Täter identifiziert, um das Chaos komplett zu machen.

Das Ganze wirkte echt so wie bei K11 oder einer anderen leicht trashigen Nachmittagssendung bei Sat1. Wenn Ingo Lenzen jetzt auch noch dabei gewesen wäre, hätte mich das auch nicht weiter gewundert.

Der Polizist, der uns danach wieder nach Hause gefahren hat, war irgendwie nicht so super gesprächig, aber der konnte sich vermutlich auch was cooleres vorstellen, als am Sonntagmorgen zwei leicht angekaterte Studis durch die Gegend zu fahren.

Mein Besuch in Bremen endete mit einem Besuch im Planetarium (bei dem ich eingeschlafen bin), einem (immerhin ziemlich okayen) Burger bei Hans im Glück, und einer Bahnfahrt nach Hause (diesmal natürlich mit deutlicher Verspätung).

Abgesehen von einer neugewonnenen Angst vor dem Beklautwerden, dem Taschenwechsel und paranoiden Festhalten meines Portemonnaies in größeren Menschenmengen und auf spätabendlichen Heimwegen, sowie der Erkenntnis, dass der Betonmischer ein cooles Getränk ist, habe ich nicht allzu viel aus meiner kurzen, aber doch ereignisreichen Zeit in Bremen mitgenommen.

Ehrlichgesagt hatte ich gedacht - und gehofft -, dass die Sache damit abgehakt sei.

Falsch gedacht.

Erstmal habe ich es mit der ganzen Aktion in die Zeitung geschafft.

Dann habe ich Ende Februar erstmals Post aus Bremen erhalten. Ein sehr, sehr netter Mann hat die Ausweise, die im Geldfach waren, neben einem Mülleimer gefunden, und sie an die darauf angegebene Adresse geschickt. Die irrationale Angst, dass die Typen mich jetzt anhand meiner Adresse suchen und jagen würden, konnte ich also schonmal abhaken.

Ende Juli habe ich nochmal Post aus Bremen bekommen. Vom Landgericht. Ich war als Zeuge zur Gerichtsverhandlung geladen.

Nach Bremen.

Aus München.

13 Stunden Zugfahrt.

Eine verzweifelte Mail, mit der Hoffnung, dass vielleicht die Aussage bei der Polizei ausreichend sei, gespickt mit Klagen über die Ungerechtigkeiten in der Fehltageregelung im PJ, die Wohnungssituation mit anstehendem Umzug aus München und der Tatsache, dass das ne verdammt lange Fahrt ist.

Die Antwort:

Sehr geehrter Herr Schmitz, nach Rücksprache mit der zuständigen Richterin ist es leider nicht möglich von Ihrer Ladung abzusehen. Es besteht die Möglichkeit der Kostenerstattung. Die Hinweise hierfür haben Sie mit der Ladung erhalten.Auch ist ihr Arbeitgeber verpflichtet, sie freizustellen, um Ihnen die Teilnahme an dem Gerichtstermin zu ermöglichen.

Toll.

Prozessbeginn 13 Uhr.

Also, Fehltag genommen, 5 Uhr Abfahrt in München, Ankunft (NATÜRLICH mit Zugausfall und deutlicher Verspätung) am Gericht: 12:57 Uhr.

Sicherheitskontrolle wie am Flughafen.

Ein stattliches Gerichtsgebäude. Vermutlich der gleiche Innenarchitekt wie in Hogwarts.

Gefühlt hunderte Säle.

Ich in Saal 231.

Meine erste Frage an die Vollzugsbeamten: „Meinen Sie, ich erwische meinen Zug um 16 Uhr?“

Anwort: „Ja klar, das dauert nicht lange.“

Und der Beamte sollte Recht behalten. Nachdem das Gericht eingelaufen ist (ich musste vor dem Saal warten, stelle mir aber vor, dass es mit einem Einlaufkommentar wie bei der Durchsage der Startaufstellung beim Fußball läuft), Vorführen des Angeklagten, Aufruf des (einzigen) Zeugen. Ich.

Nochmal der Versuch, die Ereignisse möglichst detailliert wiederzugeben. Einige spezifische Fragen zu meiner Gefühlslage, den psychischen Folgen und einigen anderen Details.

Keine 30 Minuten später war ich wieder draußen, musste noch bei der Sicherheitsschleuse mein Deo abholen, das ich natürlich nicht mit in das Gebäude nehmen durfte, und dann war ich frei und hatte - ein (wirklich gutes) Fischbrötchen später - nur noch eine weitere lange, langweilige Heimreise aus Bremen vor mir.

Zwei mittelmäßig nette Trips nach Bremen haben bei mir jetzt wahrlich keine Schockverliebtheit in die Hansestadt ausgelöst, aber ihr Charme ist trotz allem nicht ganz an mir vorbeigegangen, und ich glaube dem Staatsanwalt wirklich, der mir auf meine Aussage, seit dem besagten Abend nicht mehr in Bremen gewesen zu sein, antwortete „Schade, eigentlich lässt es sich hier sehr gut leben.“

P.S. Honorable mentions für die Überschrift:

The Fast and the not so Furious

Die Bremer Stadtarschlöcher

Mein Taschendieb, das Landgericht Bremen und ich.

Bremens Eleven

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