#location unlisted

[nowoolallowed]

Bastet - Met Museum Collection

Inventory Number: 34.6.1 Late Period–Ptolemaic Period, 664–30 B.C. Location Information: Location Unlisted

Description:

Bastet, here shown as a cat-headed goddess, was a powerful protective figure who also was known for her fertility. She could be represented with a lion head as well, but as a cat-headed goddess her peaceful traits were emphasized. Her personal adornments and garments are elaborate on statuettes, often more so than other goddesses, and she usually carries numerous attributes. This figure likely once held at least two separately-attached attributes, probably an aegis against her chest and a sistrum in her other hand. Her dress has an elaborate striped pattern with alternating dotted and lined bands. Bastet does not always wear a decorated dress, but it is much more common for her than for other goddesses. The patterning highlights its craftsmanship and quality; also, as some have suggested, the vertical banding may recall the striped fur of a cat.

Great attention to detail and color was lavished on this figure. Inlays are still visible in Bastet’s eyes, and alternating rows of precious metal and black bronze inlay form her broad collar. Also special to this piece is the base; rather than an inscription or blank register, as on most statuettes, this base bears a pattern of repeated lotus blossoms and buds.

[pathologicalreid]

a long way to go | s.r.

in which your family breaks no contact and Spencer reminds you that you're doing the right thing

margovember

kindergarten teacher!reader masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst? (hurt/comfort) content warning: nondescript childhood trauma, kindergarten teacher!reader word count: 1.4k a/n: okay so the request was for angst and it is but the comfort gives fluff. at this point my genres are arbitrary. huge shout out to anyone else who isn't going home for thanksgiving for one reason or another.

Frowning at the email on your computer, you shifted your weight on your rotating chair and leaned your head back into the chair cover that Garcia had crocheted for you.

We’d love for you to join us.

It felt as though someone had tossed a bucket of ice water over your head, years and years of blocking emails and leaving your phone number unlisted had culminated in this moment. It shouldn’t surprise you; you worked at a public school and your email was listed in the faculty directory, but the sight of your father’s name left a sour taste in your mouth.

You were alone in your classroom, the fluorescent lights were turned off, leaving you in the gentle illumination of the string lights that you kept threaded along the walls. Contract hours were over, but you still had papers that needed to be completed. Opening your email after the final bell had thrown a wrench in your plans.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, you looked up to see Spencer standing in the doorway. You checked the time in the corner of your monitor to find that it was nearly six, well into the evening, and you hadn’t even noticed. “Did we have plans?” You asked, alarm rising in your tone, you looked down at your day planner and didn’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t miss something.

“No,” Spencer said immediately, wanting to quell any of your anxieties before they had the chance to develop. “I hadn’t heard from you today, so I might’ve asked Garcia if she had your location on your phone and found that you were at work much later than usual,” he told you, setting his messenger bag on one of your student’s desks before leaning against yours.

You leaned over your desk, setting your chin in your hands and sighing. “You found me,” you mumbled unenthusiastically, eyeing your monitor again.

He’d cut his hair again, in a moment of frustration he’d started snipping, but he ended up calling you for help. It no longer feathered the tops of his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, tilting his head to the side and tapping the bobblehead you kept on your desk.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head, “Nothing, I just have a lot of work to do.” You were designing a holiday coloring page, making the outlines yourself because you didn’t like any of the ones you found on the internet.

“Okay,” Spencer responded, extending his vowels. “Now you’re lying to me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation; he was merely stating the truth.

It bothered you that he was right, and it bothered you that you lied to him. You shouldn’t feel the need to lie to him because, really, if anyone was going to understand how you felt about the email, it was Spencer. You wedged your hands beneath your thighs, keeping yourself from digging your nails into your palms, “My father sent me an email.”

Dad felt too casual, and his first name felt too detached. He was just your father, someone who had been chosen time and time again over you, and whom you hadn’t spoken to in nearly six years. “When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Five years ago,” you answered distantly, remembering how he’d had the nerve to show up at your college graduation even though the rest of your family knew you weren’t in contact with him. Wetting your lips, you looked back at the email on your screen, “He wants me to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family.” People that you shared no connection to—blood or otherwise—and made up the family that had taken your place in his life.

Spencer straightened up a stack of papers on your desk, the shuffling sound so familiar that it put you at ease, “What do you want to do?”

You pinched your eyebrows together, not used to someone asking for your wants, “I want to reply to him, but I know that engaging with him would be equivalent to opening the floodgates.” Releasing a dam of trauma that wasn’t suited for your kindergarten classroom, “I can’t reply to this email.”

Nodding softly, Spencer studied your eyes with a pained look in his eyes, “I know, honey.”

Taking the computer mouse in your trembling hand, you scrolled over the email and blocked the sender before deleting the email and deleting it from the trash for good measure. Hot tears welled in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I hate him.”

You despised him. A man who you shared blood with just so happened to be someone you hated with bone in your body. Bones he had contributed to that you wished you could pull from your body and replace with an untainted set. What was worse was that he had the ability to influence your emotions like this, he could make you angry with nothing more than digital mail.

Anger felt so useless, it was something he used as armor, and you feared that by being angry, you were becoming like him. You were so horrified by the mere idea of your own anger that it made you cry, and you were terrified of your life becoming one big circle.

They say if you grow up with an angry man in your house, then there will always be an angry man in your house. All you needed was to believe in Spencer’s ability to be gentle, but nothing Spencer did would change the fact that you cried as soon as you were pricked with rage.

Spencer crouched in front of you, taking both of your hands in his larger ones and keeping them warm for you. “You don’t owe them anything,” he told you, watching you carefully with his big brown eyes, “It hurts. I know it hurts right now, but you know that you just did the right thing. I’ll remind you of it for as long as it takes for you to believe it.”

The dam broke then, tears fall from your chin to your lap as Spencer gathered you in his arms to the best of his ability, you tried not to flinch away from his embrace. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t there to hurt you, he was there to help you. He ran his palm flat along your spine as you gave in, burying your face in the crook of his neck and basking in the darkness of your own sorrow.

“You did the right thing,” he muttered softly, pulling away and using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “You don’t need to apologize to anyone about it,” he said preemptively, knowing you were about to apologize to him for your show of emotion.

You nodded dazedly, leaning your cheek into his palm as he cupped your face with his hands, “I don’t know what I do now.”

Spencer smiled gently at you, “We’re gonna keep moving forward. Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner?”

Sighing, you shrugged despondently, looking back at your now blank monitor, “I should get some stuff done.” You wiggled the mouse and typed in your password, you stared blankly at your unfinished coloring page, any and all motivation to finish the drawing had vacated as soon as your father made contact.

“What if,” Spencer started, “You come home with me tonight, and tomorrow I’ll come in with you? You can finish up your work and I’ll get to spend some time with you.” Spencer Reid might just be the only person willing to accompany you to work on a Saturday just because you’re having a hard time.

You bowed your head, “You don’t have to do this, Spence.”

He hummed in response, “I want to, and besides—we have plans to make.”

You frowned, your head lifting so you could look him in the face and inquire for more details, “Plans for what?”

“Thanksgiving,” he responded as if it should’ve been obvious, “You’ll get to join BAUsgiving this year, it’s one of Garcia’s favorite holidays.”

Faltering, your eyes widened at his insistence, and you took a deep breath, “I’m not… I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows incredulously, “Honey, you’re part of that family now. Besides, sometimes I think the team likes you more than me.”

[circuloearth]

Hetalia Masterpost

Anime Episodes

Hetalia Episode Links (google doc) here Hetalia List (google doc) here Hetalia episodes + EP Guide (google doc) here

Comics

Hetalia World Stars 1. Shonenjumpplus (JPN) here All Hetalia Comics 1. Hetarchive.net (ENG trans.) here 2. hetascanlations.tumblr (ENG trans.) here

Musicals

Hetalia - Singin' in the World [1st musical, performed in 2015] 1. Veoh (english subs) here 2. bilibili (upload 1) here 3. bilibili (upload 2) here 4. Tumblr (subtitle file only) here Hetalia - The Great World [2nd musical, performed in 2016] 1. Veoh (english subs) here 2. bilibili here 3. Tumblr ( subtitle file only) here Hetalia - In the New World [3rd musical, performed in 2017] * 1. bilibili here Hetalia Final Live - A World in the Universe [4th musical, performed in 2018] * 1. bilibil (live in Osaka version) here 2. bilibili (live in Makuhari verison) here Hetalia - The World is Wonderful [5th musical, performed in 2021] 1. bilibili here 2. Youtube (upload 1) here 3. Youtube (upload 2 - HQ & unlisted) here Hetalia - The Fantastic World [6th musical, performed in 2023] 1. U-Next (Japanese streaming site) here * 2. MEGA (video and ENG sub file) here + here Hetalia - The Glorious World [7th musical, performed in 2024] 1. TBA (live performances start 08/2024) All Hetalia Musicals 1. MEGA (musicals 1-4) here * 2. MEGA (musicals 1-6) here

Drama CDs

Hetalia Drama CD 1- Track 4- Lithuania Works Away from Home 1. Dailymotion (english subbed) here

Games

Gakuen Hetalia (unfinished demo project for PC) [released 2007] 1. Mediafire (JPN) here * Gakuen Hetalia Portable (PSP) [released 2011] 1. EmulatorGames (Eng.) here 2. romspure.cc (JPN) here Gakuen Hetalia DS (Nintendo DS) [released 2012] 1.Romsfun (JPN) here 2.wowroms (JPN) here Other- Game Emulators 1. PPSSPP (PSP emulator) here 2. desmume (Nintendo DS emulator) here

Anime OSTs

1. TBA

Fandom Creations/Stuff

** PLEASE READ THE DESCRIPTIONS OF THE YOUTUBE PLAYLISTS LINKED BELOW FIRST (LOCATED ON LEFT SIDE IF ON DESKTOP) ** 1. Hetalia Cosplay Panels (yt playlist) here 2. Hetalia Cosplay Panels *Incomplete/Shorts* (yt playlist) here 3. Hetalia Skits (yt playlist) here 4. Hetalia Gatherings (yt playlist) here 5. Hetalia Fan Animations (yt playlist) here 6. Hetalia MMDs (yt playlist) here 7. Hetalia CMVs (yt playlist) here 8. Hetalia AMVs (yt playlist) here

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

**NOTES** ( PLEASE READ)

Please DO NOT play mega videos directly on the site or else they will be removed, just download them !!!

There are two versions of Hetalia - In the New World: One performed in Osaka and the other in Tokyo University.

There are also two versions of Hetalia Final Live - A World in the Universe: one performed in Osaka and the other in Makuhari.

The Japanese streaming site U-Next probably needs a VPN and a paid (?) account to stream musicals.

For the site bilibili, if you have trouble using it on your browser you can download the app and then try to open it from there. You can turn off the text zooming across the video by clicking on the first TV icon on the bottom of the video player.

Remember, Google translate is your friend if you can't navigate any of the sites. I don't know Japanese or Chinese so unfortunately I won't be of any help navigating some of these sites.

This is all for educational purposes only!

**THIS LIST WILL BE UPDATED CONTINUOUSLY**

** So please consider reblogging from the source instead and/or look at the replies to see any update news! **

Please feel free to message me if there are any mistakes in the info provided or have working links to some material. Thank You.

[theheartnexttophan]

Phreadsheets Masterpost

For some reason, I've never posted most of my spreadsheets on here so I decided it's finally time to actually put them all in one place!

Dan and Phil Videos: A list of every currently public video, separated by channels, including date posted, length, if there was a guest, and spon info

Time Between Videos: A list of every day since Phil's first video, with all currently public videos filled in on the day they were posted (good for looking at posting frequency, but it's super long)

DnP Video Stats: Includes number of videos each year on each channel, total and average length per year, with graphs

Deleted DnP Videos- Post Hiatus: A list of unlisted and deleted videos, with dates, lengths, and functional links to the vids (note: only includes post hiatus, most of them are ads)

DnP Tour Dates: Includes dates and locations of all 4 tours, and videos posted during the tours

Phandometrics: Tracks relevant tags' position on the Tumblr fandometrics, starting post hiatus

I'm going to keep updating these as needed, but I may not get to it immediately, so if I haven't updated something yet, just know that I will! Also, I've checked for mistakes, but it's always possible I missed something, so if anyone notices a mistake, please let me know!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

-

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

-

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[squshymarsh]

DcxDp idea prompt #3

Amity Park is a Cult

Start this story out with the Batfam learning that Bruce has another kid. (Idk maybe the fentons reaching out to see if Bruce has seen him) All they have is a picture of his Face from CCTV footage.

Oracle then gets a match for his face on a lesser used streaming and video platform (prolly called something dumb like Spookytube) Danny and Team Phantom look like kids posting their own music and little skits of them playing around and being kids. It’s when she gets into the account that things take a turn.

Unlisted and privated videos show the trio going about their days, testing new inventions, showing the weirdness of Amity park like it’s nothing special and complaining about parents. (Danny could already be Phantom at this point)

There’s a few videos where things really start changing. The group video themselves coming across a gather in the woods outside of Amity late one night. It’s revealed that the older generations of the town are the leaders of a cult and plan to use the next generation in some form of ritual.

The next videos are of the team and others of their generation and younger figuring out an escape plan and executing it. Using the channel and its privated videos to communicate as each of the team members separates with a group of kids to escape. The videos are check ins, information and worst of all showing that they didn’t get out of Amity unscathed.

Lots of liminal kids have now scattered into large moving groups that are being pursued by the Cult of Amity. All being led and coordinated by the (possible) long lost son of Bruce Wayne. And the kids friends and elder sister.

I feel like at some point Danny would be alive streaming to the channel just chatting with his friends and stuff when he is found and attacked by the Amity Cult. Of course the BatFam were watching and trying to track his location cause the kids like 14 and on the road taking care of like a group of 10 kids his age and younger.

[meneatyoghurt]

I mostly agree, but those saying not to share stuff (on the discord, which sparked people saying not to share elsewhere) are definitely not cool with rpf. I understand arguments both for and against, but I don't think a blanket 'it's horrifically immoral' is particularly helpful. There should be a separation between fans and those they're fans of (I hesitate to say celebrities!) so fans don't have to feel like they can't freely express themselves. For one thing, it feels like that can lead to people feeling like they can't air legitimate grievances/criticisms.

I think this is partly the danger with having a discord server that the guys (and their partners) have access to. I get being excited to have them there and it's fun to get q&as but I'd rather a fandom space was a fandom space, for a few reasons. It's fine if the discord runners/members want to have their own rules, obviously, but that shouldn't affect what people do outside of it.

(Also like...if one of them said 'don't share this because it's really upsetting for me', I'd respect that...unless it was something incriminating. But if the request was 'don't share old stuff because it's not cool for our brand'...eh, maybe not. But it's a moot point anyway because I don't think they care and will believe that until shown otherwise)

Show me the evidence that anyone from sfth has said they don't want old material (what's the cut-off date?) shared. Not just people saying that's what they think or have heard.

Obviously everyone has to do what they think is best, but let's not cause a moral panic over potentially nothing. (Genuinely if you do have evidence one of them has said this, please let me know)

I don't generally share a lot of their old stuff (as someone who's a similar age, it gives me second-hand embarrassment) but there's no need to make people feel bad for doing so. And you don't have to beat yourself up for having shared anything, especially if you had no reason to think it shouldn't be shared.

[st1tch-p0p]

IMPORTANT MANDELA THEORY.

The intruders name (Six) means *OR* is supposed to parallele the Sixth Dimension. Im going to refrain from calling The Intruder "Six" because Im gonna talk alot about the Sixth Dimension, Yada-Yada and I dont wanna cause confusion.

On Alex's insta, someone asks a question about The intruder and the meaning of his name/ its meaning in general, to this Alex says "stay tuned".

Now I have a screenshot from and old video that Im pretty sure was unlisted from Alex's videos *OR* privated, this video is a "Trailer" for Mandela catalouge and features quite a bit of stuff that we havent seen in actual videos created, but what caught my attention was this frame from the video. It says '4th Dimension" and shows a cube inside a cube.

We know that Alternates themselves are "On different spectrums" which implies they can live in different planes and *POSSIBLY* different Dimensions of existance. So, that cube or the "4th Dimension" could mean that, Alternates live and/or are from the "4th Dimension".

We also know that Alex has stated that the Intruder isnt an alternate himself, and that he is something else entirely that *works* with Alternates.

This means that he is different in some way from Alternates that for some reason makes him special.

The Difference that divides Alternates from The intruder is that The intruder is on a *COMPLETELY DIFFERENT* spectrum, plane, or Dimension of existance *entirely*

Which is maybe why his name is literally Six. Its because he is on/in the Sixth Dimension We also know that this series isnt over yet so things can change, or we could get New information. Hold on to the idea of New information because im gonna take a LEAP stay with me.

The last screenshot says that Six-dimensional space is any space that has *six dimensions, six degrees of freedom, and that needs six pieces of data, or coordinates, to specify a location in this space.* There are an infinite number of these, but those of most interest are simpler ones that model some aspect of the environment. We have seen The intruder *SO FAR* in 4 different spectrums

1. Inside TVs ANALOG]

2. Physically [He has been called "the man in the corner"

which implies hes quite literally *HERE* in the moment

physically to be seen]

3. Inside dreams/nightmares [Adam says that The intruder

comes to him in a dream]

4. Inside Mirrors [Hes seen inside the girls mirror in the

newest Mandela catalouge video]

This all points to the fact that The intruder can appear on completely different spectrums. While we have only seen alternates appear physically and/or torment people mentally (inside dreams, nighmares, and hallucinations.)

So, the intruders name SIX paralleles the Dimension he exists inside.

[wiktor420]

⌗ BACKCHANNEL cecil stedman x male!agent!reader ONE-SHOT

⤷ the GDA implants covert comms into field agents, it was meant for efficiency. Not late-night calls. Not whispered confessions. Not this.

cw: mutual masturbation, voice kink, edging, delayed gratification

wc: 2.5k

[✗] - your name After all the recent failures from the new Guardians of the Globe, the GDA decided it was time to implement some changes. A way to keep reckless heroes in check during battle. Keep them updated on their vitals, location, proximity to backup, and more importantly, to keep them connected to HQ at all times.

Enter: Backchannel Comm Units.

Sleek, surgically implanted behind the ear, invisible to most standard scans, and linked directly to GDA operations. The units run on encrypted frequencies only accessible to high-clearance staff, meaning most agents never know who’s monitoring the channel.

Only that someone always is.

The official story? It’s for security. Real-time feedback. Faster mission recall.

The real story? It lets people like Cecil Stedman tap in. Late-night check-ins. One-on-one feedback. Maybe even...other things.

Untraceable. Off-record. Private.

An unlisted channel—one of many routed through the GDA’s encrypted comms net, used for off-the-record briefings. Clean ops. Shit you don’t write down.

You’re field command. His eyes on the ground. When things go south, he calls you.

That’s what it was meant to be. Work.

Then the calls started coming after hours. Short at first. Sparse.

A simple:

“You back?” “Everyone accounted for?” “Sleep’s not optional, agent.”

But they kept coming. A check-in here. A stray observation there. A grunt of approval you pretended not to care about. Eventually, the silences grew longer than the missions themselves.

Now, they’ve become something else.

Something that doesn’t fit inside your day-to-day. Something you don’t talk about during briefings.

Like tonight. ✗

The comm buzzes low on your desk. It’s past 2 a.m.

You’re still in your base gear, jacket peeled off, boots kicked somewhere by the door. There’s a fresh scrape on your shoulder from a near-miss in Cairo. You didn’t file a report.

The moment you pick up, it’s quiet.

“You’re still up.”

That voice again. Low. Rough. All gravel and control.

“I don’t sleep when I don’t have to.”

“You should.”

You lean back on your bunk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Thought you said sleep was optional.”

“Not when you’re running on fumes.”

You can hear something in the background—probably his office. That low hum of whatever tech he has on at the moment or the occasional flick of his lighter.

“Why’re you really calling, Cecil?”

Silence.

You wait.

When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. Stripped of the usual edge.

“Had a breach in Tokyo. Cleared now. Just… needed to know you were still breathing.”

You smile faintly.

“Still breathing. Still armed. Still underappreciated.”

“Not by me.”

That lands heavier than you expect. You swallow hard, jaw tightening. He doesn’t say things like that. Not to you. Not to anyone. But lately? He’s been slipping. There was the night he stayed on the line for hours, just listening to you breathe. The time he watched your entire spar session through the monitors and didn’t bother hiding it. The way he sometimes says your name like it tastes different in his mouth than anyone else’s.

After a click of your tongue, you ask. “Long day?” Your voice now significantly softer.

“Long life.”

You don’t laugh. Neither does he. You shift slightly on the bed, one knee pulling up toward your chest.

“Why me?”

“What?”

You lick your lips. “Out of everyone. Why do you call me?”

A pause. You hear the faint click of his lighter. The inhale. The slow exhale.

“Because you don’t ask for anything.”

That stings more than you thought it would.

“So that’s why you like me?” you say, a little too bitter. “Because I know how to shut up?”

“No.” He sighs. “Because when I talk, you listen.”

You blink. That stops you. Because it’s true. The weight of his voice always settles somewhere deep in your spine. He could say anything and you’d lean in. Not because you’re loyal. Not even because he’s your superior. But because it’s him. Something raw starts crawling up your throat before you can stop it. You sit up straighter, rubbing a hand over your face.

“You’re not sleeping either.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

Another silence. It stretches long and taut, like a wire strung too tight between you. And still, neither of you hangs up.

“You in uniform?”

You pause.

“…Parts of it.”

“Where?”

Your heart jumps. It’s not even the question itself, it’s how he says it. Low. Controlled. Like he’s not asking just to picture it. Like he’s trying not to. Odd. You hesitate, pulse fluttering in your neck.

“…Jacket’s off. Shirt’s open. Pants still on.”

“Fuck.” He breathed out.

His voice breaks a little. You swear you hear him shift in his seat, fabric rustling. Your breath catches.

“Cecil,” you murmur.

“You started this.”

Your hand drifts to your stomach. Slow. Cautious. The heat that’s been building under your skin for weeks finally tipping toward combustion.

“I didn’t think you’d go there.”

“I’ve been there,” he says, voice gravel-slick.

“Every time you call in with blood on your boots. Every time I see you in that gear, half wrecked and still standing. Every time you look at me like I’m not a goddamn monster.”

Your mouth goes dry.

“So yeah,” he huffs out. “I went there.”

You close your eyes, your free hand tightening around the edge of the mattress.

“I’m alone,” you whisper.

“So am I.”

You can hear the shift in his breathing now. It’s not subtle. Not practiced. The usual restraint slipping, inch by inch.

“I keep thinking about your hands,” you admit. “The way they’d feel.”

“Rough,” he says without pause. “Calloused. Bigger than you want. ...But steady. I’d take my time.”

You hold back a whimper, jaw clenching as your hand slides lower, under the waistband of your pants. No pretense now. No excuse. Just need. Pure and electric.

“Touch yourself, [✗]” he says, low and sharp. “I want to hear it.”

He says it like he’s said a hundred other things. Measured. Level. A man used to being obeyed. But the difference now? His voice is low. Like gravel and smoke in your ear, heat curling down your spine. You close your eyes, swallowing hard, and slide your hand down, slow.

“You gonna do it,” Cecil says, low and even, voice threading directly into your skull through the comm embedded just behind your ear, “or are you just gonna keep panting like a  bitch in heat?”

And your body went still. “…You know I’ve got a briefing in six hours,” you say, trying for humor, failing miserably.

“So finish in five. I’ll even talk you through it, because I’m generous like that.”

The growl in his voice makes your breath stutter. He’s not even pretending this is mission-critical. And still, you’re answering to it like you are.

Your breath stutters, but your hand’s already under the waistband of your pants, fingers curling around your cock, slow and tight. You’ve never gotten hard so fast off a voice alone, but Cecil’s isn’t just any voice. It’s gravel and steel, slow-burning like a fuse, and when he talks like this, it's like his mouth is right against your ear. You’re already half hard, have been since you heard him breathe your name—but you don’t rush it. He wouldn’t like that. Cecil isn’t a man who rushes. He waits. He watches. And right now, he’s listening, probably with his cigarette between his fingers and his belt still fastened.

You want to hear him crack.

So you stroke yourself slow, palm just teasing your length, not enough to tip you over, just enough to keep your breath hitching in a way you know he can hear. He hears the shift in your breath and hums, quiet, dark approval. 

“Good. You that desperate, agent?” he murmurs. “Needing my voice to get off?”

“You’re the one who called,” you rasp.

“And you answered.”

The silence between you hums with static. It’s not silence at all, it’s the tension of everything unsaid. Every time your hands brushed in passing. Every hour spent in his office, pretending those looks didn’t mean something.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmur, breath catching as your fingers wrap around your cock. Already half-hard. You’re embarrassingly responsive when it comes to him, and he fucking knows it.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t. But here we are.”

You spit into your hand without thinking. Stroke again. A filthy sound slicks through the comm and Cecil groans. Like he felt it in his gut.

“That’s it. Good boy.”

You groan, quiet, choked, fisting your cock tighter now. Each stroke is like dragging yourself closer to the edge without ever tipping over. You’re breathing hard, trying to stay quiet, but it’s slipping.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You bite down on a groan, pumping slow. You shouldn’t be doing this. Not with him. Not like this. He’s your boss, your handler, the one with the kill switches and contingency plans, but that’s not what matters right now. What matters is the way your name sounds when it drags out of his mouth, low and hoarse like he’s been holding it in for weeks. You stifle a moan, pick up the pace just slightly, dragging your thumb over the head with a hiss.

Cecil exhales a soft curse under his breath. “Shit. Keep going. Slowly. I’m—fuck—I’m already hard."

“You touching yourself too?” you ask, voice ragged.

“You want me to?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I wanna know what you sound like when you’re not pretending this doesn’t mean anything.” There’s a pause—just a beat—and then you hear it: the soft rustle of movement, the unmistakable sound of a belt unfastening, and a quiet exhale like he’s finally letting himself feel it.

“...Yeah.”

You both groan. It's slower now. He talks you through every motion, not in that usual hard-ass, control-freak tone. No, this is different. This is Cecil off the leash.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he mutters, voice strained.

That catches you. He never lets you hear him like this. But there’s something wrecked in his tone now—tight, gruff, breath hitching just enough to crack through his usual control. You grin into the dark. “Pretty sure I do.”

“Cocky little shit.”

But there’s no bite in it. Just heat. Just hunger. You stroke yourself slow, imagining the way he’d look right now, tie loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up, hand working his cock just off-frame in that dim, smoke-hazed office. You wonder if he’s leaning back in his chair, jaw tight, watching the line go dead silent so he can hear every sound you make. “Cecil…”

“Don’t talk. Just listen.”

And fuck, you do. You lie back, mouth open, body tense as he feeds you filth in that rasping voice, cool and commanding even as it frays at the edges with need.

“Bet you get hard on deployment. Full suit. Blood on your hands. Knowing I’m listening in. Watching from my monitor while you drag yourself home alone.” “You think I haven’t heard it? The panting after missions? That little hitch in your voice when you think you’re muted?” “You think I don’t get hard too, hearing you lose control in my fucking ear?”

That wrecks you a little. Your stroke quickens. But you’re holding on this time, barely.

“You gonna come for me?” he murmurs. “Make a mess of yourself just because I said so?”

You almost say yes. Almost. But then:

“I want you to come too,” you say, voice hoarse. “Want to hear you when you do.”

Silence.

Then:

“Jesus Christ.”

The way he says it? Like he’s actually affected. Like he’s been holding back.

“You really wanna hear what I sound like when I break?”

“Yes,” you breathe, honest and raw.

You hear him move then, quick and rough, like he’s dropped all pretense. Breathing louder now. More ragged.

“Then get me there.”

“Tell me how you’re stroking it. How tight your hand is. How wet.”

You lean your head back against the pillows, fingers tightening where they wrap around your cock. The sheets are a mess already, twisted and damp with sweat, but you don’t care. Not when his voice sounds like that, deep, smoky, cutting into your ear like a command he knows you’ll follow. “I’m leaking for you, sir. So fucking wet I can hear it.”

The sound backs it up, slick, obscene, a slow rhythm that echoes faintly through the line. You make sure the mic catches it, knowing full well how sensitive the comms are when they’re calibrated right. Knowing Cecil probably had yours tuned higher than regulation weeks ago.

He doesn’t say anything yet, but you hear it. His breath catches. You keep going.

“Using my whole hand. Slow pulls. Palming the head on every upstroke—fuck, I’m throbbing for you.” A pause crackles through the comm. Then:

“You using your spit?”

You groan softly, embarrassed at how fast that short sentence makes your cock throb. “Yeah,” you murmur.

“Bet you’re flushed. Spread out, cock in your hand like you were waiting for me to call.” he mutters, voice thick now, unsteady.

“I was.” Silence. Then—

“Fuck. You’re gonna make me come,” he growls, and there’s something frantic under the words. Like you’ve stripped away whatever control he had left.

You stroke faster, wrist twisting with every upward drag. You picture him, shirt rumpled, tie loose, belt undone, his cock heavy and flushed in his fist, mouth parted, eyes dark and half-lidded behind the glow of his monitors.

You wonder if he’s thinking about you bent over his desk. You bet he is. And god, that thought alone nearly unravels you.

“Say my name,” you rasp. “I want you to come saying my name.”

There’s a pause.

Then:

“Fuck, [✗]—” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“—I’m gonna fuckin’—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t have to. You hear it. The catch in his throat. The hissed curse. The wet, choked sound of him losing control after holding it too tight for too long. You finish soon after. It wrecks you. Utterly. Your climax crashes into you like a wave, hot and blinding. You arch against the bed, groaning loud, spilling over your fingers and stomach, gasping his name like a prayer. You barely register the sound of his voice breaking, deep and ragged, a low growl dragged out into something damn near desperate as he comes too, muffled curses punched into the comm. It’s messy. And you don’t care. Not when it’s him on the other end. Not when you know he’s just as undone.

For a second, the only sound is both of you breathing. Shaky. Overheated. Then, quiet. Gruff.

“We are so fucked.”

You let out a shaky breath. You okay?” 

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just come all over a classified intel report.”

You snort. Then groan.

“Gonna need a minute before I’m functional again.” You smile, eyes closing.

And then you hear it—softer, maybe even fond:

“Take two. I’ll still be listening.”

You laugh, breathy, post-orgasm high. “I can bring you coffee.”

“You better.”

Your heart stutters. He’s not signing off. And somehow, that’s hotter than anything else. a/n: i need him so bad chat.. inspired by sexlapis' fics, how is she so good at this

[detailtilted]

Looking for people who were SPN fans around 2007-ish. (Lost SDCC 2007 Video Files)

Hi! Are there any SPN fans still around from back in 2007 who downloaded and still have the SDCC 2007 videos that were once available at this link? https://scaperanya.livejournal.com/2037.html#t55541

About My Quest

There were 23 videos listed (including a "#6.5") , but only 12 of them have been located on YouTube, published by Mobycat33. Part #'s 1-6, 7-9, 16, and 18 are missing. At one point they were reportedly all on YouTube, but maybe some of them were made private or unlisted or deleted altogether.

Since the videos were made freely available for download on a file sharing site at the time, I'm still holding out a tiny thread of hope that maybe a fan who was around back then might have quietly downloaded them and managed to hang onto them for all these years.

I actually did manage to make contact with scaperanya and she graciously granted me permission to use content from the videos that still exist, but she didn't seem to have the missing videos. I don't think she's in the fandom anymore and the videos are almost 18 years old. I also managed to hunt down a couple of the people who commented on her original post, but I couldn't track down very many of them and I haven't been able to find anyone who still has the files.

A Note for Followers of My Videos

Don't worry, I do have enough SDCC 2007 content already to make a full video. The main set of videos I'm using has a pretty good view of Jensen most of the time. It's just that I could really use more of scaperanya's videos to increase visibility of the other people on the panel. When possible and/or relevant, I have a smaller window in the sidebar showing people who aren't in the main frame. It's similar to what I did for SDCC 2008, but without the perpetually collapsing bubbles. I have now managed to muster up enough sense to not make the windows round! Also, the audio in this panel is reaaaaallly bad at times, so another audio source would be a huge help for the subtitling endeavor.

Contact Methods and Logistics

Feel free to contact me however you feel comfortable, whether in response to this post or via another method. Private messages are fine, and you can also e-mail me at DetailTilted@gmail.com.

If you're concerned about the logistics of how to share the files, I usually use WeTransfer.com which allows limited free transfers. You input the person's e-mail address you want to share the files with and attach your files. It will automatically upload your files and send the person an e-mail with a link to download them. The other person will see your e-mail address, so you'd want to use an address you're comfortable sharing with me or else create a new one. If you have another preferred file sharing service, I'm definitely happy to work with that. I just wanted to explain one way it could work for people who have never shared large files before. I know sometimes I'm reluctant to offer to do something I don't know how to do for fear it will turn into a major ordeal that I don't have time for. Transferring files this way is actually super simple.

If I can answer any other questions, just let me know. I do not pester people, so if you contact me with questions and then decide not to do it and I never hear from you again (or even if I do), I promise I won't follow up and bug you about it.

Relogs for Visibility Greatly Appreciated!

I'd be greatly appreciative of anyone willing to reblog this to help increase visibility. This is my last ditch effort before I give up and declare it a lost cause.

[nowoolallowed]

Necklace - Louvre Collection

Inventory Number: E 2152 New Kingdom (-1550 - -1069) Location Information: Location Unlisted

Description:

Ousekh necklace; modern assembly

[slowburningechoes]

✿ RSL Content Masterlist ✿

This is my BIG content breakdown post. Links to everything that I have available related to RSL will be sorted here.

═ YouTube ═

YouTube Masterlist Post

⤷ List including my Ultimate RSL Playlist (including every video I can find of him on the platform) and various subplaylists. Unlisted playlists and videos are also provided.

═ Google Drives ═

RSL Filmography Collection

⤷ Link to a drive folder including videos torrent files for every film, TV show, documentary, etc. that has been located.

BIG shout out and "thank you" to those that have contributed to making this folder as complete as possible: @iicraft505, @robertseanleonardthinker. (If you have anything you'd like to add, please dm me!)

═ Other Links ═

RSL Daily — Live Journal

⤷ Essentially inactive now, but an original hub for content. Many images and links no longer work, but still great content to sift through.

@samnyangie’s Unofficial RSL Fansite

⤷ 2022. Originally made to celebrate his 53rd birthday. Home to beautiful fan art, birthday wishes, and pictures from throughout his life.

Bend in the Road Podcast (Ridgewood, NJ Public Library)

⤷ 2023. Podcast feature with his local library.

The Interview Show with Mark Bazer

⤷ 2025. Podcast episode in Chicago, IL during rehearsals for Betrayal.

[chirpsythismorning]

WSQK Update

The Twitter account for WSQK Radio has reached 100(ish) songs! And while it's currently unknown whether or not this account is in any shape or form associated with Stranger Things, I still want to give a breakdown about it as well as some reasons why this account intrigues me so much, because there are actually quite a few.

For some context about when and how this started, it might be helpful to know that the first (un)official leak regarding the existence of the WSQK filming location occurred on January 18th, the day prior to WSQK making their first post.

That same Friday when WSQK made their first post, fans also got official 'Week 2' BTS from Ross, which more openly acknowledged the existence of the radio station location in comparison to his previous posts for s5.

What then followed was a rocky start in terms of this Twitter account’s approach at making posts. Initially, they only made posts consisting of lyrics, followed by another post with a short clip of the song those previous lyrics came from.

After less than a week of the account being sporadically active, they became very consistent and continued their roll-out of lyrics + video, and then adding in + dialogue, every single day. There are a few outliers, with them not making a post on March 14th and March 20th, but the first time they had a big break in between posts was from March 22nd-March 24th, notably with their March 21st's post being related to Will's birthday:

After the March 21st post, and with their return on the 25th, they officially switched it up from posting every day, to every other day, and more recently with a consistency of every 2-3ish days.

But still, over 5 months later (roughly 156 days), they remain active.

When it comes to the type of posts this account interacts with, they stick to strictly liking and sometimes retweeting/replying vaguely to posts regarding the WSQK location, along with liking the posts of anyone that replies to their posts.

After some time though, I noticed they began posting songs that they already posted before, just with different lyrics and lines from the show along with them. This actually makes sense given that they are acting as a radio station, where songs are known for playing and replaying numerous times.

Which brings me to the most interesting aspect about WSQK, which is that while a good chunk of the songs posted have featured on the show at some point, there are also a decent amount that have not.

Here is a playlist of the songs for reference:

Here are some songs specifically that pique my interest. Some I will elaborate on, while others I might just share and let you figure out for yourself why I think they're worth mentioning.

This song was originally the third song they posted, though it was removed about a week later. Hard to tell why exactly they removed it. Maybe since it was still early on. they mixed something up and decided to get rid of it? Regardless, lyrically there could be some significance to this song choice.

Since we've obviously heard Kate featured on the show already, I don't think it would be too hard for a fan to include this. Though, it being added this early on is an interesting choice to me. Lyrically a song like many on this playlist that I think have a specific meaning which could fit quite well with a potential storyline in s5. It is also one of quite a few songs that have been posted at least twice.

While this song did feature in s3 and s4, this song is one of many that are unlisted for the show. It doesn't feature on any official soundtrack or playlist and so you'd have to already know it to recognize it or go out of your way to search it for yourself. And the meaning is also ummmm... yeah.

I actually got barely any results when looking into this song and its lyrics. Though I did discover that it is most known for featuring in an episode of Miami Vice in 1986.

I could only share 10 songs here, so if you want to look at more or even all of them, I highly recommend taking a look, even if it's only out of mere curiosity. I do plan on going through and confirming all the songs one by one again because I probably mixed up or missed one or two (or more). Scrolling down a Twitter account until their first tweet is not exactly fun, but this should be accurate for the most part!

Something else I want to mention is that @erikiara80, who also keeps an eye on the account, noticed a while ago that they have always followed 11 people, some fans and some connected to the show. There was one time they unfollowed some accounts and then instantly followed some others, keeping them at 11 follows, which means the number could be an intentional choice.

A while ago, it hit me that, if this is a hypothetical radio station, wouldn't they also take requests? So Erika helped me with that by requesting two for them to post, getting this reply:

And they did in fact eventually post those two songs requested... I'll let you guess which ones :)

Basically, I felt the need to bring this whole ordeal back to the conversation now, not because I am convinced that it is run by someone connected to the show, but because the eeriness around it persists.

Keeping something going on this long would not only require someone to be very consistent, but to also have the willpower to not go over the top interacting with fans (which I don't think most fans have the self control to not take advantage of). This account doesn't seem to have any bias towards anything. In fact they remain completely impartial, sticking to their script. They seem fine with remaining in the shadows with fans assuming they are insignificant or otherwise, all while keeping the act going almost a half a year later.

With s5 getting no promotion outside of Ross's (sometimes) weekly BTS photo-dumps, this season's roll-out has been almost non-existent. Usually we would get phone numbers to call and obsess over, even 1-2 years out from release, and yet nothing.

I find this approach interesting because it does honestly resemble something I could picture the show doing to hype up s5. If the radio station is going to be a prominent location, then it offers up a really creative way to interact with fans as a way to promote the show.

Them humbly leaving hints about the final season through songs via a ‘radio station’, could parallel similarly to easter egg like approaches they've presented in the past. Only this time (the last time) it would have existed and built up for months with most not knowing about it, offering up a sleuth different songs fans could dig into if it was ever revealed to be promotion for s5.

With their being whispers that we could get something revealed in regards to s5 very soon, and with this playlist finally reaching 100 songs, I thought I would celebrate and remind ya'll it still exists in case you need an excuse to overanalyze something new.

[l3xistentialism]

2024 Offering

Hiii 👋🏽 I’m Lex, resident queer, disabled parent & Reader 👁️ with my offering for 2024. I’ve been reading tarot for 12 years now & opening my books back up for the year with 3 updated Readings:

LOVE: an intuitive reading that gets to the root of matters in Love and Relationship. Be mindful that these readings will be focused on the Querent, rather than their significant other, crush, or other 3rd party. COUPLES READINGS ARE AVAILABLE 💕

BIRTH CHART READING: this reading uses tarot/cartomancy to enhance your understanding of your birth chart & astrological placements. You’ll need your birth time & location to get your house placements, however this reading is still available if the birth time is unknown.

SHADOW WORK: a reading with a message from your Shadow Self to help uncover what may be missing or neglected within your spiritual practice. Suppressing or ignoring the Shadow, its energy and impulses rather than practicing Integration can lead to self-sabotage or feeling out of alignment with oneself. This reading serves to open up a dialogue between yourself and the parts of you that have been pushed to the wayside.

All readings are $33 with a delivery method of your choice (Email or Unlisted YT video)

DM me or email l3xreads @ gmail with questions or to book with me

✌🏾

[xdraon]

making a new pinned now that multiple folks have reached out.

Please Consider Donating or Boosting the linked gofundmes (click the names for the gofundmes) below, all six have been vetted!

Nada Saftawi (blog) - €12,665 raised of €16,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

Tahani Shorbajee (blog) - $18,218 raised of $50,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

Amneh Sharif (blog) - $9,631 raised of $90,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

Abu Shammalah Family (blog) - €12,011 raised of €100,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

Bilal Abed-Rabou (blog) - €6,637 raised of €80,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

Haya Nahed (blog) - €67,949 raised of €100,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

Dr. Farhat (blog) - $2,685 raised of $29,500 goal as of 8/11/2024

Youssef Jehad (blog) - $2,262 raised of $15,000 goal as of 8/11/2024

I did find the below name in operation olive branch and according to the person below, the listed age and number of family members do match, but because of a change of donation location and unmatched goals I am gonna put both links in the below section as I don't want to mess anyone up, please feel free to correct me if this is not the same Ahmed Ziad!

Ahmed Ziad (blog) - £8,924 raised of £30,000 goal

Dr. Mahmoud Abujundi [with Ahmed Ziad] (instagram) - unlisted raised of (?)55,000 goal

The people below have not been vetted to my knowledge as of 8/11/2024, please consider helping them get vetted!

Rahaf Nassar (blog) - €13,204 raised of €40,000 goal

Musab and his family (blog) - £3,307 raised of £8,000 goal

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside Chapter One

Stray Kids Mafia (Ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 2.6k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Please do not copy or repost my work

Remember when we were kids and the teacher would instruct us to draw whatever we wanted to be when we grew up? Boy, were all of mine wrong.

Instead of being the doctor,

the firefighter,

the astronaut,

the vet,

I’m traversing a crowded upscale lounge, delivering drinks to plastered patrons clad in designer suits as they discuss their next business merger. Something I wouldn’t highly suggest digesting beside a bottle of drained soju, but who am I to decide that.

Rather, my drawings should have been that of a scandalously dressed cocktail waitress, the click of heels echoing off of stained mahogany, eyes shallow in the shadows from nights of little sleep, and the forced smile in lieu of a groan at another poor excuse of a drunken pickup line.

My body sat propped up by my elbows on the cold surface of the bar, my eyes pointed, but unfocused, on the bottles of liquor adorning the shelf. The music and voices behind me failed to make it past my ears, a simple white noise drowned out by the mindless black screen that sat behind my eyes.

“Earth to Siu, any lights on in there?” I blinked sharply as my attention is pulled to the gentleman standing across the bar with snapping fingers, a tray littered with expertly assembled drinks placed in front of me.

“Shit, thank you” Quickly snapped back to my reality, I slipped the tray forward onto my hand and raised it to my shoulder, before finally looking up to the bartender’s eyes watching me, carefully painted with worry. “I’m good Seongho, just zoned out for a second.” I flashed him my best attempt of a smile before retreating back into the sea of patrons.

Blossom sat tucked away in a back alley, door unlisted, in the dark corners of the Gangnam Business District. Those in attendance only knowing of the location by word of mouth. It made for a simpler atmosphere in terms of customer service. Our patrons were always regulars, creating a social environment, and causing loose lips of the inebriated businessmen made far too comfortable sharing details of their personal lives beyond the front door of the establishment.

This made it that much more surprising when a glance to the door let me observe two unfamiliar faces strolling in and making their way to a booth in the back corner, much younger than the usual, older crowd. My gaze follows the two across the room, once distinctly taller than the other and both in expertly tailored suits. The tray perched upon my hand is now tucked under my arm after placement of the last drink, making my way towards the newcomers now settled in their booth. In my approach I can notice they haven’t spoken to each other at all since sitting, instead they sat silently observing those around them. A tension sat in the air as I neared their table, an uneasy feeling quickly settling into my stomach as I leaned against the end of their booth, giving my best go at a genuine smile in an attempt to slice the thick air as I spoke.

“Been a while since we’ve seen some new faces here, welcome to Blossom.” My eyes flicked between the two, trying to give them a grin, the feeling in my stomach starting to make permanent residence “My name is Siu, what can I get you two to drink tonight?” The moment Siu left my lips the two exchanged a glance before the taller of the two grabs my attention with a clearing of the throat. His hair is a crisp blonde, perfectly swept back with what looked to be enough hairspray to commit arson at just the thought of a spark. His eyes avoid mine, still glued to the peer in front of him. The second male had equally bleached hair, although shorter and much more tousled than the first’s. His cheeks were peppered with freckles, a bit of boyish charm to his appearance. I held my arms across the tray pressed to my stomach, finding at least some solace in closing in my body language just slightly through the tension.

“Two whiskeys, neat.” The first’s voice was sharp, quick and to the point. I pursed my lips with a subtle nod, clearly they weren’t going to be the talking type.

“Alrighty then, I’ll be back shortly with those.” Tucking the tray back under my arm, I settled firmly back on both feet before turning my way back towards the bar.

“Could I possibly get a water with that too? Please and thank you!” The second’s voice caught me off guard, much deeper than I initially would have expected coming from that face, especially paired with the grin that quickly adorned his cheeks. At least one of them seemed friendly. With a smile and a nod I turned back on my heels. “You don’t have to be so cold to her, Hyung.” ever so quietly I could hear him mutter to the first as I walked away. I let a quiet giggle leave my lips, go figure the younger was the more polite one, but even taking to scolding his older was going to be entertaining to me.

“New blood?” Seongho nodded to the two in the corner before glancing back to me with a raised brow.

“Yeah, interesting characters for sure. Not the usual crowd.” I set the tray to the counter, glancing back over my shoulder and catching the eye of the older of the two burning into my skin. I quickly swiveled back to Seongho, with wide eyes. “Alrighty then, we got a watcher, add that to the list.” Our exchanged laughter at the two muffled by the start of a new vocals from the stage where the live artist settled in front of the mic with a fresh trot song. “They want two whiskeys, neat. Oh, and a water too” Seongho made haste pulling a bottle from the shelf behind him, filling two rocks glasses and placing them onto the tray with a grin and a wink.

“Good luck out there, don’t let ‘em eat you alive.” He quickly added a water bottle before shooing me off into the crowd once more, the rest of the night falling into the same monotonous pattern as always.

The two started to frequent the lounge every night, and each night turned into weeks, then quickly months. Slowly but surely I was able to chip away at the icy exterior of the older. He finally began to speak to me in full sentences, and dare I say I’ve gotten some laughter out of him on a couple occasions. I definitely spent more time focusing on him, determined to get him out of his hard shell. Eventually they shared their names, finally getting to put Hyunjin and Felix to their faces. Without fail they always showed up in their crisp suits, never a thread out of place and ties never loosened, their order always two whiskey neats and a water for Felix. Seongho insisted that they never showed up when I wasn’t working, but I kept assuring him that they were probably just sneaking in under the radar as usual and being assisted back in the corner unnoticed.

The night already wasn’t playing out smoothly for me, missing my bus adding time to my already long commute and surely setting me up for a late clock in. I made my way quickly out to the floor, finding Seongho behind the bar as I let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you’re working tonight, everything has been going wrong and it’s nice to see your face here.” I began to grab a tray and prepare it in front of me as Seongho immediately set two whiskeys and a water onto it.

“Your boys are already here, been waiting for you in the usual booth.” I glanced over my shoulder to see Felix sitting facing the bar, the spot usually occupied by Hyunjin, as he gave me a small wave and soft smile. I turned back to Seongho, with a sigh. “Yeongja tried greeting them and asking their order, but they just told her they’ll happily wait for you to get here.” With a groan I started to lift the tray onto my hand.

“So I’m the only one allowed to serve them? They’re choosing favorites now?”

“Siu, you’re always the only one serving them.” Seongho leaned against his hands on the bar and glanced back to the booth. “This is just the first time they explicitly mentioned you. Maybe one of ‘em has a little crush you never know.” He quickly clapped his hands together with a mischievous grin. “Oh my god, maybe you can finally get a date.” I swear my eyes rolled back so fast that if they had any more force behind it they would’ve popped directly out of my skull.

“You’re very funny, Seongho.” Balancing the tray upon my hand I maneuvered through the crowd to the back corner where Hyunjin and Felix sat, in a tense silence just like the first day they came. Setting the glasses down, I grinned at the two.

“My apologies for my late arrival tonight, one of our other waitresses would have been glad to serve you so you two weren’t waiting on me” My smile wasn’t reciprocated from either of the boys, that original unsettling feeling back in my stomach. This felt like a weird case of deja vu.

“You had us worried there for a second.” Hyunjin took a sip from his glass, staring forward at the table, his cold demeanor clearly back. “We thought you weren’t going to show tonight.”

“Oh no I’ll always be here, just ran into some hiccups that made me a bit late.” My forced smile was surely becoming more evidently fake as I tried to keep the conversation going. Even Felix has a bit of chill to him tonight, the two exchanged a glance before Felix finally looks up to me with a strained smile.

“Well don’t let us keep you, we know you’re probably behind schedule now and have a lot on your plate.” With a smile and slight bow I thanked the younger before continuing to make my rounds around the floor, a full house of patrons making use of their Friday night.

Thankfully the night seemed to progress fast and smoothly, at least my shift was going on without a hitch. Although I realized time had escaped me and I hadn’t had the chance to check in with Hyunjin and Felix for a while, but as I glanced over to their booth I found it empty. A twinge of disappointment settled in my chest at not being able to bid them goodbye, but I knew they’d be back during my next shift and I could once again apologize to them for letting time get the best of me.

Seongho and I slipped our coats on, the night finally coming to an end. He flicked the lights off behind us as we exited into the late night air before turning around and securely locking the door behind us and making our way down the alley to the main street.

“Are you in tomorrow?” Seongho’s voice finally broke the silence as we reached the sidewalk before parting ways.

“No, thankfully I can rest tomorrow, I’m exhausted.” I stretched my arms back, feeling the pull in my muscles before glancing back to Seongho. “Get home safe, alright?”

“You too, Siu. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.” Seongho patted my arm before making his way up the street as I turned the opposite way and started my own trek home.

I’ll be first to say that I know walking home at such an hour alone is never my best choice, but it had a calming nature to it within the empty streets. Only the occasional passing car and very few other pedestrians littering the streets. It provided me with the much needed calm down period after my shifts, and I wouldn’t trade those walks for the world.

Yet tonight proved itself different, a looming anxiety was firm in my bones that my walk wasn’t as lonely as usual, but could never pinpoint the reasoning for the feeling. No one was in sight, and each time I turned around to check, no one was behind me. I contemplated trying to catch a bus for the remainder of my commute, but instead of feeling like a sitting duck at a bus station I opted for adding a bit of pep to my step and speeding up my steps.

A wave of relief washed over me as I finally reached the doors of my apartment building, slipping in as fast as I could and ensuring the door was firmly shut behind me before making my way towards the elevators. The building was quiet as ever at these hours, not a voice or peep to be heard. There was nothing I was looking forward to more than removing my makeup and crawling into bed under my warm covers and allowing myself to drift into slumber. A warm shower was in the plan as well, my muscles felt stiff and needed some form of relaxation.

Finally settled into pajamas, wet hair, and tea in hand I slipped under the blankets, immediate comfort taking over me as the hot liquid made its way through my chest like the roots of a tree. I flicked on the tv, searching for a documentary to put on for a quiet lull of a voice to assist in my sleep before settling my head onto the pillow and letting my eyelids grow heavy.

The morning sun was the first thing to wake me up, the absence of a screaming alarm giving some comfort to my warm morning. Sitting up, I attempted to blink the sleep away from my eyes, the morning fog starting to clear from my head with a yawn.

My slippers dragged across the floor as I shuffled into the kitchen, in dire need of a cup of morning coffee. After prepping the coffee maker, I leaned against the counter and crossed my robe tighter across my body in an attempt to hold in any warmth before the heater could finally kick on and warm the apartment.

The ding of a complete coffee cycle alerted me to my prepared drink. Sipping from my mug, I leaned against the counter again, waiting for the caffeine to make its way into my veins. I scanned the apartment from my spot, making a mental note of my to-do list needing to be completed throughout my day. My eyes fell on my front door next, more specifically a white envelope on the floor sitting in front of it.

“What the fuck…” I set down my mug and made my way towards it. Surely this wasn’t there when I got home last night, I would have noticed it when I took my shoes off. Its positioning looking like it had been slipped under my door in the night. Bending down to pick it up, I slowly broke the seal of it and began to unfold the paper sitting inside, the name on the sheet quickly making my stomach drop and all source of breath leave my body.

Y/n.

We need to have a talk.

East bank of the Tancheon bridge, 9pm.

- Felix.

Next Chapter