#pentagon call my name

[maracllea]

WRAPPED 2022 videography | 24/101 | PENTAGON Call my name

[arbitrarykiwi]

Third Times a Charm: Oral Fixation 2/3

Nam-Gyu (Player 124) x AFAB reader smut series

Summary: you ran into him three separate times. First was at a party, second time was at a club. And like his favorite drugs, he was addicted. The third time? Well he wasn’t going to let you get away so easy. Third times a charm and he was going to get his fix. ((Non-squid games au))

Warnings: Smut (18+), LONG (y'all.. I went over board: 6.4k words), id say this is significantly more debauched than the first chapter, alcohol use, drug use, substance mixing, stalker! Nam-Gyu themes (he finds your info online), porn with plot (long intro, there is a divider added for convenience if you wish to skip to the fuckin') , oral (m receiving), choking, dirty talk, name calling ((this chap. is significantly more gendered than the first one)) (pretty girl, good girl, whore and slut used once), face fucking, sugar daddy! Nam-Gyu themes, spitting, cum play, breath play, he’s nasty- got a filthy mouth on him, brief mention of death threats (he threatens somebody for interrupting y'all), proof read but I am dyslexic, there's prolly more- read at your own risk

Previous chapter: Taste Test 1/3

Next chapter: Bodytalk 3/3

AN: gonnna be so real yall, music inspo for this fic is São Paulo ft. Anitta by The Weekend…if you wanna read it with the fic be my guest 😋 (best time to start it is when yall meet again in da club)

The second time you ran into him was at a club.

It has been about two weeks since your interaction with him. Nam-Gyu. To say that he was all you thought about would be putting it lightly. The thought, the feel, the scent of him, was all you could think about.

Figuring with just a name to go off of and the drugged out crowd you often hung around, your luck of finding him was slim to none. You tried to search him up, nothing. All searches took you to was links about a ‘Club Pentagon’.

You tried to go out with some men, often finding yourself repulsed anytime they put your hands on you. Pushing them away and calling a cab to just go back home and get yourself off. None of those guys seemed worth your time- you’d just be thinking about him anyway.

His hands felt better. His lips felt better. He felt better.

You found yourself in your room, with a half smoked blunt hanging between your fingers as you scrolled through social media aimlessly. While scrolling you watched as a notification popped up at the top of your screen, your phone resonating a ‘ping’- a text from your friend asking you to go out to, none other than, Club Pentagon. You clicked the notification with a speed you didn’t know you had.

A reply is sent quick, agreeing to meet her at the club in a few hours. You stood up off your bed, taking a drag of the blunt you rolled- getting ready or not, you can’t waste it!

In the span of a couple hours you got ready, dolling yourself up in the best outfit you could think of. One of your favorite dresses, the one that was just a little too short but fit oh so perfect. You hope by some grace of the universe- he’s there. And with the chance that he may be there…you wanted to take a little extra time with your makeup.

After finishing off your blunt, taking more than a couple shots, and a excecuting perfect face of makeup- you’re calling a taxi with a nice buzz and making your way to Club Pentagon.

The night is cool when you step out the taxi. You pay and thank the cab driver, turning to find your friends in the long line of people. It doesn’t take long, they find you. They yell your name from the crowd, excitedly pulling you into the line. “God damn!! You look good!” One of your friends cheers, you laugh and give a little twirl. The group you find yourself in catches up, chatting, while walking slowly with the line of people waiting in queue for the club.

Soon you make it to the entrance, a large bouncer stands near a velvet rope that block the front door of the club. The large neon sign sporting the words ‘Club Pentagon’ flash a vibrant pint that illuminated the area outside the club.

Your group begins filling into a small cluster behind the velvet rope, waiting by the entrance for the rest of the group before heading into the club. Your friend in front of you passed the bouncer, adjusting her pink wristband sporting ‘21+’. It was the usual band bars around here used to signify the person wearing it was of age to drink.

You hand your ID to the bouncer patiently waiting to be let into the club. The bouncer looks to you then to your ID, he seems to re-read it then looks back up to you. “Wait here.” He tells you, stepping away. You look to your friend with a quirked eyebrow, wondering what the hold up is.

Your friend laughs, cupping her hands around her mouth and calling out to the bouncer. “She’s of age officer I swear!!” You reach over to swat her arm to get her to stop. “Bitch c’mon! For one, he’s not an officer. Two, that’s literally what someone with a fake ID would say.” You laugh, already tipsy from the pregame.

The bouncer returns with a chuckle at your friend’s antics. “Not worried ‘bout that girls.” He says to you and your friend with a jovial laugh. “Your name was familiar, saw it on the VIP list.” The bouncer says, to only you this time, placing a lime green wristband on your wrist, on it the acronym ‘VIP’ is printed around the entirety of the paper bracelet.

“Huh?” You say incredulously, you haven’t even been to this club before and you sure wouldn’t pay for a VIP band yourself. You look to your friend group, wondering if they had something to do with it. Their faces mimicked yours, confused, so they obviously had nothing to do with this.

“This must be a mistake- I didn’t pay for this.” You say not wanting to get overcharged. “No mistake Ma’am. One of our club promoters put you on the list personally.” He says opening the red suede rope to let you into the building.

You’re confused, you don’t know any club promoters. But you nod, in thanks to the bouncer as you join your friends. You are still wildly perplexed but not complaining- it’s a free all you can drink ticket! Your friends ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ at you as you walk in with them.

“Which club promoter’s dick did ya suck to get that~” Your friend teases leaning into you, you laugh and shake your head. “Genuinely…no one’s. I have never been here before….the covers always been too high.” You say, your eyes scanning the grand entrance of the club- chandeliers covered the ceilings, various colored lasers reflecting off of the diamonds and dispersing into colored rays that flood the floor.

“Ohhh??? A secret admirer??!!” Your friends giggle as you make your way to the bar. You laugh her off, shaking your leaning on the bar. “For real I can’t imagine who would put me on the list…” You shrug as you all order your first round of drinks.

In your head you’re trying to find any possible reasoning. It’s couldn’t be him, could it?

Anytime you looked up his name, and you typed out those six letters more times than you could count over the weeks, he never came up….but this club that you find yourself at - Club Pentagon- did. Was he a club promoter here? Was he the club promoter that put you on the expensive VIP list?! Even if he was…you didn’t give him your name the last time you saw him. You were pulled away from him before you could even thank him for the mindblowing orgasm he gave you, let alone give him your name.

Your eyes darted around the place, examining the club that you never bothered to come to. Sure the cover was expensive but as you see the extravagant decoration, multiple stages lit up with flashing, multi-colored panels, and intricate carved marble columns throughout the place- the price seemed worth it.

You make good use of the VIP wristband, ordering rounds of shots that were covered by the lime green piece of paper that’s on your wrist. But you still can’t stop thinking of who would have put you on the list.

With the free VIP bracelet came an exclusive area within the club, a small lounge area that was one of many within the establishment. Each VIP with a bracelet and their group got one.

So there you found yourself, getting ready to head to the dance floor after spending some time on the plush leather couch of the sectioned off area.

You can’t count how many shots you’ve taken at the VIP table but you were feeling great. Your friends excitedly stood up, hearing one of their favorite songs come on. You laughed, standing with them to begin to head to the dance floor.

Your friends practically ran to the dance floor, leaving you there laughing at just how fast they made it- drunk and in heels nonetheless. Just when you’re about to leave your table you hear someone clear their throat.

You turn immediately to the person, your eyes widening. “Nam-gyu!” You say with a smile, walking over to him. He’s dressed to the nines, a black suit, a red undershirt that’s unbuttoned revealing his collarbones. He’s leaning against one of the columns that had intricate carvings on it.

He smiles, taking a drag from a blunt that he had. “Well, seems like you finally took advantage of your VIP privileges I gave you.” He says with a wicked grin. Under the flashing lights he looks like a snake ready to strike, it’s alluring in ways you can’t even put into words.

You gravitate towards him, your eyebrows raising as you realize he was the one to give you this VIP pass. “You’re the mysterious club promotor who gave me the VIP?” You question as you walk to him. You come close to him, standing in front of him- looking up at him.

He nods, looking you over like he’s a predator ready to catch his prey. His hand reaches out and dances along your arm in a light motion. You watch as his eyes take all of you in, his teeth catch the corner of his bottom lip. His chest heaves as he takes in a deep breath. You don’t know it but all he can think of is the way your cunt felt around his fingers and the way your cum tasted on his tongue. “Put your name on the list personally.” He responds.

“How’d you-“ You begin to say. He cuts you off, pulling you closer into him by the small of your back. “Find your name?” He says, almost mocking the way you’re sure you would have asked it. It’s a demeaning, taunting tone that does nothing to help the growing warmth in your lower stomach. You nod in response, swallowing thickly as his hand runs down the curve of your ass to grip at flesh.

He laughs, guiding you into the rhythm of the music. The hand that wasn’t gripping your ass held a lit blunt. He brought it up to his mouth and took a long drag. As he does, he doesn’t look away from you. His dark eyes are lit up in an orange hue as the cherry of the blunt rages when he draws in a hit. He drops his hand to his side again.

Smoke rolls out of his mouth in smooth streams as he looks down at you and grins. “Sweetheart, s’not that hard….” He drawls on, leaning down closer to you. A devious smirk spreads across his lips. “I didn’t just get your name, I found your phone number and address too.” He rasps, pulling back after his words to look at you.

He has a mischievous, almost wicked glint in his eyes that has you spinning. You should be freaked out, fighting against him for being some sort of crazed stalker- but you don’t. You keep grinding against him, your hands finding purchase around his neck.

Your eyes scan his, wide and trying to figure out what to do. ‘Cute’ he thinks. It was like your common sense was fighting your desire for him, and it was a battle he loved to watch. “You knew where I lived and had my number…why didn’t you-“

He cuts you off with a squeeze of your ass, once again, his ringed fingers gripping into the flesh as if you’d run away. He brings his hand up in between you two, holding the blunt so that it faces you. You can taste the wrap on your lips.

You look up at him through your lashes in a way that makes him want to forget pleasantries and fuck you here and now. But he restrains himself- nodding his head towards the blunt, his eyes never leaving yours.

When your lips wrap around the blunt and suck in the smoke, you can hear him hiss. He speaks through gritted teeth. “There you go….” He rasps. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He says, it’s a tone that makes you melt, you can hear the hunger in his voice, speaking through gritted teeth as if he was fighting himself from ruining you on the spot.

When you release the blunt and let the smoke billow out of your lips he speaks again, “You’re right,” he says, finally beginning to answer your question, grinning down at you. “I could have texted or showed up to your apartment…” He says as he spins you around against him, pressing your back into his toned chest.

“But I’m not some stalker..” He hums into your ear, hand hands all over you. “..so I just put you, my pretty little thing, on the VIP list. Hoping that you and your group of friends would show up here.” He hums in a low timbre that sends goosebumps up your skin.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you look back over your shoulder to at him.

“How could you have been so sure I would have came here?” You say your hand reaching back around him to entangle your fingers in his hair. You find yourself inhaling his cologne, even with significantly less drugs in your system than when you first met him- the scent is just as intoxicating.

“I wasn’t sure. In all honesty if I had to wait any longer I would have showed up on your door step.” He says, the tone in his voice tells you he’s not lying.

And it just makes you hotter.

“But there’s no need to think about that..you’re here now.” He breathes into your ear, his free hand that wasn’t holding the blunt, moving inwards from your waist, traveling down your stomach to grip at the inside of your thighs.

Wherever his hands go, they leave a trail of white hot fire, the only solace is the small cool sensation from the metal rings adorning his fingers. You arch into him, a small gasp coming out of your mouth at his fingers digging into your thighs, just centimeters away from where you needed them most.

“I was thinking about you…” You squeak out in a weak attempt to respond to him. “Tried to look you up.” You say, your breath hitching, breaking up your words into pathetic syllables as you feel him drag your ass against his growing hard on.

Maybe it was the way you were more coherent, less drugs in your system this time meeting him- or maybe it was the thin fabric of your dress leaving nothing to the imagination as he pressed against you- or maybe it was the way his fingers left you a shaking mess during your last meeting so you couldn’t pay attention - but you swore you could feel his erection against your back better than the last time you had an encounter with him.

And he was thick.

He laughs, the vibration tickling at the skin of your neck. “I’m not one to run around with the best crowd, sweetheart. Don’t need people findin’ me so easy.”

He puts the blunt out in a swift motion on an ashtray nearby. His one hand remains on your hip, the one now free from the blunt runs up your back.

He pushes, causing you to bend over in front of him. It’s raunchy, it’s debauched but you let it happen. His hand continues its path up your back to grip the hair at the base of your neck. The way your hips move in tandem is sinful. Your dress has long since bunched up above your ass, allowing his cock that strains against his pants to rub against your clothed cunt in the most delicious way possible.

You’re bent over in front of him, one of his hands tangled in your hair while the other continues the rhythmic sway of your ass against his erection.

“But I had no worry, I’d knew you’d find me eventually…huh, pretty girl?” He has with a scoff in his voice. “Like you said, been thinking about me….” He growls, his hand that’s in your hair pulls you back against him in a rough movement. You can feel the way his clothed cock is spreading your pussy, allowing the tent in his pants grind up against your clit.

A whine is pulled out of your throat as you press yourself back against him even more. Your head nodding in reply to his words. A low groan resides him his throat has he throws his head back, basking in the feeling of how warm his dick feels pressed against your clothed pussy. The slow grind of your body against his is in time with the music. The loud thrum of the bass only serving to make every moment of this even better.

He pulls you back up by your hair, the arm on your hip wrapping around your torso and caging you into him. “Y’know…I played your little game last time, fair and square. I’d say I impressed you at that little party, wouldn’t you?” He says into your ear as he shifts his hips upwards, deliberately dragging his clothed cock up into you, the only thing keeping him from sinking into your velvety walls was your underwear and his pants.

You let out a choked gasp, feeling yourself clench around nothing. It was embarrassing, yet again, how quick he could get you to come undone. Your lip catches on your bottom lip as you try to grind down into his motions.

His hand releases from your hair and comes up to grip your jaw. “Answer me. Use your words.” He says, his breath ticking your ear. The low growl of his voice is smooth but devilish, a warning. You can feel the way his chest heaves with heavy breaths against your back. A sing that you had just as much of an effect on him that he had on you.

“Y-you did. You impressed me.” You say desperately your words slurred by his hand that grips your jaw. His grip loosens, his head dropping to your neck. His lips dance along your pulse point, tongue leaving a warm, wet trail along the column of your throat to under your ear.

“So then you should agree that I should get a nice little reward, for being so gracious, even after you cheated at your own little game?” He says, his lips tickling your ear. You nod frantically, reaching behind you to palm his erection over his slacks to prove a point of how desperately you needed him.

He growls into your ear, spinning you around to face him before smashing his lips on yours. You whine against him, reciprocating the kiss with equal desperation.

You don’t even realize when he leads you down a hall in a feverish mess of kissing. Your back is pressed against a closed door before he hastily fumbles with the knob.

You both stumble into office in the back of the Club Pentagon- being one of its top promoters had its perks of a private office and Nam-Gyu was going to use it.

It’s a fast paced mess of tongue and teeth. You find yourself turned pressed up against the door, closing it with a soft thud. His hands remove themselves from your waist, coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs rest on your cheeks while his pinky’s are nestled right under your ears. He pulls you to him, as is he’s trying to merge you into him.

His tongue explores your mouth in a skilled way that has your mind melting. You whine against him as he bites your bottom lip. Your hands work in clumsy, jittery movements to unbuckle his belt. He chuckles against you, finding your feeble attempt to rid him of his pants endearing.

He breaks this kiss, his forehead pressed to yours as his hands trail up your sides to your chest, stopping to grope at your breasts. “Eager are we?” He chuckles against your lips.

You kiss him again, the taste of his lips addictive. Pulling away to pout, looking up at him as your hands dance along the buckle of his belt. “Yes. And so what if I am?”

He grins, laughing at your words, his hands that massage your breasts slow their ministrations. His thumbs being to work against your nipples under your shirt. He brushes his thumbs over them in feather light touches, relishing in the feeling of your nipples beginning to harden under his touch. When your breath catches in your chest and you arch into him, he scoffs. “Pretty and sensitive…I’m going to have fun with you.” He says in a degrading tone, enjoying the small hint of an attitude you had being subbed out so quickly by him playing with your nipples.

He kisses you again fervently, hands removing themselves from under your bra to push you backwards by your hips. Your knees buckle when you hit a piece of furniture.

You fall to a sitting position onto a small couch in the room, whining when your lips part from his. He comes close to you, standing between your legs and looking down at you.

His eyes are dark. His hair was tousled, some strands still pushed back with whatever product he used to style it while others fall over his face. He smiles down at you, his hands running over your shoulders, along the sides of your neck to cradle your head.

His hands move up into your hair, tangling into the strands and cranking your neck back to look up at him. He moves even closer. Your chin is touching his lower stomach, forcing you to hold his gaze as he grinds his erection that is painfully hard against in his pants against your neck.

He looks down at you as if you’re a goddess in a renaissance painting. “Aren’t you just a sight…” he muses. His hands leg go of your hair, his warning gaze is enough to keep you in place. One of his hands comes up, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

You do it almost instinctively, wrapping your lips around his thumb. Eyes never leaving his as your tongue swirls around the pad of his finger.

His eyebrows raise, the breath he sucks in has your pussy clenching around nothing. “Oh…” He drawls on in a low amused hum. His eyes don’t leave your lips, it’s like he’s transfixed on where his thumb disappears into your warm mouth. “You’re fucking dangerous…” He muses in a low rumble. You can feel the way he grinds his erection into you throat as his thumb massages your tongue.

“C’mon then, I need to be inside your fucking mouth.” He growls, removing his finger from your mouth and quickly getting rid of pants and boxers. He doesn’t even have the patience to rid himself of his clothes, simply pushing them down to his knees.

His cock falls free from its confines and lands heavily in front of you, the tip smacking against your lips with a hearty sound.

Taken aback, you grip the base of his dick with one of your hands pulling your head back to look at it. It’s thick, long, the tip an angry red. The dark hairs at the base trail up his stomach in the most tantalizing line.

He hisses at the contact, you can feel it twitch in your hand. “Please, sweetheart…I’m dying…” He says, an upward cadence to his voice but his words are muffled. You look up from his cock, confused and when your eyes trail up his toned stomach to his face, your mouth is dry.

It’s a beautiful view. He has his red dress shirt is pulled up and out of the way by his teeth. His hair is disheveled, falling around his face and framing it in small shadows. His eyebrows are upturned, watching you- more specifically your mouth in a frenzied look, pleading for you to continue. His sleeves are rolled up revealing tattoos on his forearms that decorate his skin in intricate lines of black and grey.

How could you say no to him?!

Your mouth parts in a slow movement, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You place his cock on your tongue, smacking the angry tip against your tongue a couple times. Each time, you see his stomach clench as the warm wet feeling of your tongue met his dick.

He watches as you lick him from base to tip, stoping to wrap your plush lips on his the tip of cock. It’s a tease for the feeling of heaven that is your mouth because soon you release him, running your tongue along the underside of dick. The sounds he’s making are sinful, low moans and groans of your name that has your thighs pressing together to ease the ache in your cunt.

He groans, taking his shirt out of his mouth and holing it in one of his hands. His other one makes its way to the back of your head, fisting your hair and yanking your head back.

“Enough of this teasing, sweet thing. You’re still the same slut that let me finger her on the dance floor weeks ago…so you’re gonna act like it, yeah?” He says looking down at you as he begins to jerk his cock over your face.

You smile, it’s a sight that has him gripping his dick tighter. Your mouth drops open, you nod. “That’s right…” he coos, shaking your head by the grip in your hair. “Stick your tongue out.” He demands, punctuating his words by tightening his grip on your hair.

You obey, lolling your tongue out, never breaking eye contact. He leans over you, making you watch as he sucks and then spits into your mouth. You moan out when you feel the taste of his saliva hit your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in ecstasy. “Swallow.” He demands again. “And fucking look at me when you do it.” He says through gritted teeth.

You open your eyes again, watching him continue to pump his thick cock over your face. You obey, closing your mouth and swallowing his saliva. Your gaze locked to his and its filthy. He stands over you, one hand on the back of your head, the other twisting around his length as he watches you swallow.

“Ohhh….” He coos, his eyebrows knitted together in an upturned expression as he watches you. “That’s it….” He says, taking a step closer to rub the tip of his dick over your plush lips. He grins down at you, his dark eyes trained on you as you stick your tongue back out, running it on the underside of his thick length.

“I don’t even have to ask? Y’know just what to do, huh? How fucking filthy you are…” He mocks in a condescending tone. His hips thrust forward just the tiniest bit, pushing the angry tip of his cock between your lips before pulling out. His eyes trained on the way your lips move around the ridge of his cock-head.

He hisses out a shuddering breath, biting his lip before speaking again, this time his tone drastically different- it’s softer. “You look so pretty like this..” He says in a soft hum, his hand brushing your hair back out of your face in a strangely comforting manner.

He surges his hips forward more, sinking his cock into your mouth. The sound he lets out is sinful. You look up, his head is thrown back, his hand clenching his shirt in a white-knuckled grip. “O-oh fuck…” He hisses.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, your tongue beginning to memorize every vein along his length. He isn’t quiet, he’s obscene. Every time you move your head up and down his cock he’s chanting praises followed by moans that fuel the wetness that pools in your underwear. You’re sure by this point it’s staining the fabric of the couch you sit on.

His head saga to the side, his eyes back on you. “You can do b-better than that. I know you can.” He says, panting between word, a degrading tone lacing his voice.

He moans as he feels you begin to work harder, your hand coming up to stroke at the length that you didn’t have in your mouth. His hand that’s at the back of your head moves to the side, the hand that’s holds his shirt drops the fabric to mirror his other hand.

Both hands on either side of your skull, he smirks down at you, panting. “You can take it.” He says with a chuckle, it wasn’t a suggestion.

You moan around him at his words, only spurring him on to press you down his length. As your lips inch down his cock he groans, indulging him self in the warm, wet, solace that was your mouth.

He keeps his eyes trained on you, watching as spit begins to spill at the corners of your mouth, creating a ring around his cock every time he pulled your head back and forth. He was simply addicted.

“This….” He’s cut off as you straighten your tongue out, allowing him to begin to sink in the tightness of your throat. “O-oh f-fuck….” He shudders out through clenched teeth, the words aggressive. “T-this is so much better than any fucking drug I’ve done.” He huffs out.

His hands continue to press down. His head falling backwards once more as he uses your mouth. When the head of his cock finally slips past the tight ring of your throat he lets out a moan that is so wicked it has you echoing him. You let out a sound that is between a gag and a moan, it’s debauched. Porn worthy.

His head snaps back forward watching you with a dark look. When he sees that you don’t pull away, and instead look up at him- taking more of him in your throat without the push of his hands- he laughs. It’s a soft sound, one of awe, shock and pride.

“Takin’ me so well…so fuckin’ well.” He says, punctuating his words by returning his hands to the back of your head forcing you all the way down. With your nose pressed into the coarse hairs of his pubic bone your eyes roll back into your skull as you gag and choke around him.

One of the hands on your head drops to your throat, cradling it- feeling where his cock was nestled. Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, the restriction of air leaving your pussy practically weeping onto the couch.

He pulls back, his cock pulling out of your throat in a messy string of saliva and his pre-cum. You gasp and cough, looking up at him with watery eyes. “Y-you’re so big…” you choke out in a raspy whine. He looks down at you with a pout, rubbing his hand over your lips, smearing your spit on your face.

“I know, pretty. But you can take it, yeah?” He says, his hand stopping at your cheek, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle. “Mhm.” You say with a nod leaning into his hand.

He smiles down at you, his hands returning to their position to cradle your head. “Gonna let me cum down your throat like my good whore, huh?” He says, the words down right depraved but he has such a soft and sweet tone it has your brain spinning.

You nod, mouth opening again, tongue stuck out- waiting so patiently for him.

The rapid pace is set instantly. His cock enters your mouth, instantly sliding to the back of your mouth. His cock bullies its way down your throat relentlessly. You swear your throat is going to be permanently molded to the shape of his dick. Your tongue flattens more, licking against his balls every time he sinks you to the base of his cock.

“F-fuck, your fucking throat is so tight.” He almost chokes out, his hands working your face against his cock at a meteoric speed. Any time he felt you gag, it just made him fuck your face harder- and you loved it.

He looks down at you, his head lolled to the size, his gaze hazy. “I needa cum in y-your throat so bad..” he says in almost a pleading whine. The desperate hitch to his voice has your eyebrows turning up and eyes rolling back. You moan and gag around him, an attempt to spur him on.

“S’gonna feel so good, balls deep in your fucking throat.” He rambles, his breathing becoming heavier and his thrusts sloppier. “And you’re gonna swallow it all.” He mumbles, more to himself than you but you moan in agreement. A few more thrusts is all he needed before he’s nearing his limit

“I’m going to fucking c-cum…” he chokes out, in a growl, his hands twisting into your hair, forcing your all the way down his cock- holding you at the base, tongue lapping desperately at his balls. He hunches over you, pressing you deeper into him in ways you didn’t think was possible.

You feel it in an instant, the warm spurts of cum that flow out of him, his hips thrusting in shallow movements as he milks his cock in your throat. Despite gagging and choking around him, you swallow, greedily, trying your best not to waste any last drop.

He pulls you off of him, a filthy web of your saliva and his cum connecting his dick to your lips. You choke and gasp, catching your breath. When you find it, you look to him. He’s smiling wide.

“Damn….” He says, his hand that’s not on your head swipes between you two, collecting some of the fluids that string the two of you together. “Messy lil thing aren’t ya?” He hums, bringing his fingers up to his lips to suck the mixture of your saliva and his cum off his fingers.

You giggle, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Not my fault you cum so much.” You tease back. He laughs again hands coming to hold your face, “Uh actually yeah it is…you I think you sucked the soul outta me…” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

It’s messy, but he takes his time, his lips moving in a soft rhythm against yours- almost as if it’s a thanks for the orgasm you gave him.

He pulls back, his hands working to readjust your dress and smooth out your hair. His thumb even swipes under your eyes- a feeble attempt to fix your makeup- but an attempt nonetheless.

You jump when you hear a loud knock on the door, you gasp- knocking the door was unlocked. Nam-Gyu moves himself completely in front of you- shielding you from the door if whoever was knocking happened to barge in. “S’okay.” He soothes, looking back to you. “Locked or not these fucking dumbasses know not to enter in here without me telling them to.” He says with a grin. You giggle, your fingernails still lightly raking against his thighs.

“Hey!” Someone shouts, then another round of knocks. “We got an issue that requires your help out here, boss.” The individual calls. Nam-Gyu groans. “Can it fucking wait?” He calls over his shoulder, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No can do! People out back are trying to lowball us for this batch.” The man calls back. Nam-Gyu looks to the door then back to you. “‘m sorry, princess. Gonna have to take a rain check…” He says, a genuine look of upset in his eyes as he realizes he’s going to have to depart from you.

He reaches down to pull you to stand, kissing you once more. This time it’s slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of your lips. You sigh into the kiss, the feeling of his lips on yours makes your body light up in ways you’ve never felt.

He pulls away, working to pull up his pants and boxers, tucking his semi-hard cock into his pants. You look at his cock, pouting, pressing your thighs together. He looks up to you, then down to your thighs. “‘M sorry sweetness, next time it’s all about you. Consider it the last of your payback for leaving me hanging the first time we met.” He says, taking a step back towards you, his hand coming to the back of your neck, pulling you to him and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You coming boss??” The voice calls impatiently from behind the door. “For fucks sake!! Yes. Give me a damn minute.” He yells over his shoulder.

“Wait I don’t have your number. I’m not going to find you again” You say, eyebrows knitted in a worried expression- you lost him once and with dick this good- you couldn’t lose him again.

He finishes up buckling his belt, looking to the wall and into the cracked and dirty mirror that hung there to straighten up his hair. Another loud knock comes at the door. “I’ll be there in a fucking second!” He seethes at the door. “Knock again and I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” He yells in an enraged voice. His face twisted in an annoyed and enraged scowl- a genuine hatred in his eyes that has you scared. The way he was saying it showed that if another knock came, there would be someone’s blood painting the wall.

However, when he turns around to you his face immediately softens. He hurries over to you, his hands cupping your face and shaking his head. “Not gonna have to worry about that, sweet thing.” He coos, brushing your hair, helping to smooth out the evidence of how much he just wrecked you. “I have your number, remember. Promise I’ll text you.” He says with a grin, kissing you once more.

He pulls away, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. He hands you a couple 20’s. “You get home safe. Cabs on me.” He says looking at the bills in your hand before shrugging, placing even more 20’s down into the pile- way more than what you needed for cab fair. “And tomorrow get yourself a gift- on me as well.” He says winking.

Before you can respond he’s walking over to the door of his office and whipping the door open, yelling at the person who was knocking for not having any patience. He pushes the individual who was knocking back from the door way immediately so they wouldn’t see you in your less than appropriate form.

You stand there, heart thudding in your chest as you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. You open your phone to many missed messages and calls from your friends. Gathering your things, you call them as you walk out to hail a cab- ready to relay all the details about who exactly gave you the VIP wristband.

Tag List: @heyitsayjayy , @chxrrybomb22 , @ziallgff , @ametheslime , @hornyfordaryldixon (( let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for the last part <3 ))

[syatbs]

MORE NAMGYU SMUT PLEASE

Killer of the Heart

summary: Where Nam-gyu has a sick obsession with you and doesn't want to let you go, at least not until he achieves what he wants… Or not?

જ⁀➴genre/au: Nam-gyu x reader [she/her, female anatomy}, smut, 18+, explicit content, mention of murder, stalking, obsession, mention of drugs.

જ⁀➴ Word Count: 2.923k

Find me on Ao3 for more frequent updates.

[Recommended Song: High Enough by K.Flay]

Obsession.

A term where I had never imagined myself crossing paths before. A disease that inflames my insides and ascends from my sternum up to my mind, where the wisdom lies within.

Such a disease that decays the brain and leaves the human flesh guided by nothingness. However, that is not quite my case. In fact, it is far from that. I’m being beckoned by feelings. Feelings that revolve around you and only you.

“Can you slow down?”

The hackles at the back of my neck rose at the sweet sound of your voice, a thrill blazing down my spine as from my periphery I could see you clutching the cushion of the passenger seat — a pathetic attempt to prevent yourself from the damage in case I swivel the wheel and crash into one of the thick trees’ trunk.

You are scared, I can tell with eyes closed. The flash of your cheeks, your gaze flicking every so often at me and trapping the bottom lip between your front teeth, gives the spot sans using any effort to call you out. Though, your mettle and the faith you have in me, elicit a smirk to curve at the corners of my mouth.

Despite knowing what a man I tend to be, you still chose me as your driver to return you home safe and sound. Call it stupid, but to my belief, it seems the wisest choice you ever made.

I’m high as fuck and a stinging pain throbs at the upper side of my face every time my eyelids flatter shut for a blink. The drugs I previously consumed vibrate in my bones, my system, and of course, my cock that twitches in my pants, begging for relief. I am going to lay my cards on the table and profess that the third sensation is due to your presence. Just having you here, right beside me where your warmth radiates and floods in me, has me mentally groaning at the fantasy of fucking you raw until you’re a breaking mess. To scream my name and your nails to scratch my skin until blood oozes out… To squirm around me and fight to escape me.

“I’m sorry love, but I’m afraid that I can’t.”

You scoff at the lack of verity in my tone. “Why?”

“Because you are a fucking cunt who doesn’t stop spreading open her legs for every dick she finds in her wake.”

Obviously, I don’t tell you that aloud, yet the spur to sing it out has me in a painful chokehold. Because of you, the lifeless body of a guy you allowed to slip his fingers beneath your panties and inside you, a few weeks ago, is now at the back of my car with ten lost fingers and a throat slit open. In a few words, I have a corpse in my vehicle and I have no interest in encountering any of the police who lurk in such late hours.

Again, I don’t say that aloud either.

In lieu, I press a few buttons, and music fills the suffocating atmosphere. It drowns for a short period my sick fantasies and a sigh falls past my lips.

Before you called me to pick you over from a party that one of your girlfriends hosted, I was out there hidden in the bushes as I stalked you from the windows of her apartment. I took plenty of your pictures and jerked off when you danced or did karaoke. I was so addicted to your sight that when I saw you almost getting hooked up with a stranger, it militated me from stalking you, to await the right moment to savage him.

It won’t be a difficult challenge.

Like the dead guy, he will soon follow the same tragic fate. Either I will feign that I’m a fellow student in his university and pose that I want to become his friend until I gain his trust so I can deliver the blade readily on his throat or go the easiest way and invade his apartment to catch him off guard.

I have connections at the Pentagon club where I work and in case things go south, they will have my back to erase any trail I leave behind. Every proof and evidence that gives away that it was me who committed the murder.

Notwithstanding that, I have the impression that you sensed my lingering thoughts back at the party. You didn’t fuck him and satisfaction licked my limbs like ravenous flames. Yet, that didn’t suppress the longing to torture him for the audacity to touch you, let alone speak to you.

You are mine.

The canopy of trees hedged us in at all sides of the empty road and far afield where the prying eyes could see what I was about to do. Perhaps you noticed that I missed a turn and now I was driving at the pits of the dark forest.

The night was still young and will be too bad if I stop directly outside the building you live. Let alone, wait for the precise moment when you will call me once again to help you out since no one is there for you. I grew bored playing the role of your best friend and it is finally time to make a statement… A message that signifies that I own you and nobody else.

“That is not the right way. You clearly missed a turn.” You said through gritted teeth. You tried to steel your spine to show me that you are undaunted but failed miserably.

We will work on that. Soon enough, come to that, because after I’m finished with you, there is no exit for you to skitter off. And if you dare to test it out and escape from my claws, I will chain you up on my bed or break your ankles so you cannot outrun me… Ever.

“Did I?” I mused, playing with your waters.

“You ask the obvious asshole. Don’t fucking mess around, I’m tired.”

“My sincere apologies, love.”

And I pressed the speed pedal harder.

As your back sank abruptly at the seat, you whipped your head to throw me one of your lethal pointed looks. You were seething, baby, and all my bloodstream gathered on my already swollen cock.

My voice dropped an octave. “Do me a favor first. And I promise after that, within ten minutes, you will be home.”

“Hardly to believe that.”

“Where is the trust, I’m your friend.”

Arguably it was the drugs that compelled me to act cocky because the way you pinched your freckled nose had me hot all over and not the terror of the possibility of losing you by my deviant demeanor. Your reaction made me goad you on.

Finally, you huffed and rolled your exposed shoulders back, to slacken off the stiffens that gathered on your muscles. “Fine. What is it?”

Darting my tongue to lick my lips, I tossed you a dark yet lustful glance. “Play with yourself.”

At that, you burst out laughing, your enchanting girlish sound a specter on my eardrums. However, when you saw me more earnest than ever, you sobered up, and a pink hue flashed on your cheeks. “Shit. You are actually serious.”

Unzipping my trousers, I fisted my erected dick. “Was I ever a liar, love?”

You cocked a brow at my falsehood, though it dissipated when your eyes dropped to my erection — something different licking your bright orbs. You watched me as I wiped with my thumb the precum that was leaking from the veiny tip, before giving a light pump with my fist.

My other free hand grasped tight the steering wheel and giving a jerk of my chin to your direction, I drawled. “Fuck your cunt, before I pull over and do it myself.”

I’m deeply aware of what personality I have created to become your trustworthy companion. Lying about being in a relationship, feigning that I’m gentle and caring was enough to waltz in your personal bubble and make you spit out your secrets in exchange for my comfort. Conversely, my eyes first spotted you at the club where I work and since then my obsession for you has only grown.

First, I followed you home. Then I broke into your apartment when you were at the university and set hidden cameras at every corner. Two weeks later, I spiked your water bottles that were stored on your fridge and fuck-fisted my manhood while lying beside your drugged form. Sometimes I undressed you and came undone at your bare pussy and before I wished you a goodnight, I slipped my fingers that were coated with my cum inside your tight walls.

I’m not proud of what I did, yet it was the only thing I could draw myself close to you.

Nevertheless, my whole point is that you never encountered me so blunt and crazy about you. To speak to you in a rigorous manner that forces you to press tight your thighs, desperate for some friction.

Reluctantly, you push apart your long skinny legs, forgetting immediately at what speed the vehicle runs. Your mini skirt rises at the stretch and dipping your hand, I see the sight of your drenched panties.

“Bloody hell… Already wet for me.”

Maybe it was the alcohol you imbibed at the party or the exhaustion that dances on your features because the furry that a moment ago festered you like a hurricane, now ebbed.

A moan of yours blooms inside the car and at that moment I regret having you in a small space and not somewhere where I could admire you and not the fucking road. To gather with my tongue the moisture in your folds and swallow. To be drown on you and only you.

Sensing your heating gaze down on my dick, your hand disappeared to your panties before pushing a finger into your tight pleading hole. Curling it inside you, you whine and I nearly lose control of the steering.

It was utterly different, hearing and watching you from up close and not behind the computer that is connected to the cameras.

“Nam-gyu…”

“You’re doing so well baby, fuck.”

My fist tightens its hold around my cock as I pick up pace. It throbs painfully and your hidden pussy makes it worse.

My tongue clicks at the roof of my mouth. “Take them off.”

There is a slight pause in your actions but quickly fades as your hips rise and do as I commanded. The thin layer slides down to your luscious curves and on your ankles before getting an angle that allows me to see your beautiful cunt.

The regret churns harder in the pit of my stomach.  

You add a second digit, thrusting now both of them on your opening while your gaze remains either on my profile or at my hard erection. You observe as I fuck my fist with the sounds you let out and my eyes narrow at the envisions that loom before me. The kind of envisions where I’m shoving my dick past your lips until it hits the back of your throat. To degrade you until tears well up on your trembling orbs and your pussy to pulsate in need.

 Your neck cranes as your back arches from the jolts of delight that jump on your nerves, and my frustration only festers.

I can’t refrain anymore.

Putting on the brakes, the wheels screeched at a sudden halt.

“Where are you going?”

Taking out the keys, the roaring engine switched off. Only the bright headlights remained on, to enlighten our surroundings, and kicking open the door, I rounded the vehicle. I stopped in front of yours and a flick of wariness gleamed on your tired eyes.

Without being willing to give you a reply, my hand hovered over the door handle, and slipping my other one under your bicep, I dragged you out.

I liked the way you writhed on my iron grip, but unfortunately, I had no passion to tease you. Pinning your torso on the hood, and your back to collide with my hard chest, my hips thrusted in the curve of your ass and growled.

When you tried to kick me, my fingers dug at the soft skin of your hips as I pushed one knee between your legs to mitigate the chances of kicking me on the shin or any other body part that I’m damn sure will hurt as hell.

“Quite feral, aren’t you kitty?”

You gasp offendedly at my comment and squirm once again. “Stop messing around, Nam-gyu. You play dirty!”

There was no disturbance or fear in you by the fact my bare cock is twitching in your rear. I’m your best friend, hypothetically, and you don’t even confront me for treating you so nastily. Baby, I start to think that you actually want this and what you display in front of me is only one of your woeful fake attempts to stop me. What you are doing, is simply an act.

“Dirty is my second name, if you haven’t guessed. And I played dirty games since the night I first met you.” Kissing the back of your ear, you sighed. “Tell me, did you ever feel like someone was watching you?”

It was too late to seal my lips as I had already fallen into the burning depths of hell.

You stiffened underneath me, yet before you demanded a better explanation, with a lift of your skirt I thrusted all my length to your heat. My eyes rolled at the back of my head as you screamed at the sudden stretch.

You were so fucking tight and tensing over my words doesn’t help the euphoric experience at all.

Finding your clit, I growled. “Focus on my finger. Feel what it is doing to you.”

“Stop…” You cried. Pulling out, I drove another thrust of my hips making you obtrude at the hard push. “Ah!”

Once your tight walls coated us both with your wetness, I picked up the pace, slapping my hips harder against you. Your cries and my groans joined alongside the night's crickets, stealing their performance with our sinful one.

My hand snaked around your throat and pulled you against my chest. You lolled your head towards me seeing now the devious glint that filled my expanding pupils. You were hazy, yet you still had the energy to shiver at the madness that flooded every apex of my body.

“Can you feel how your sweet pussy grips my cock?” I rasped.

You nodded as tears streamed down your face. My panting breath skimmed over your lips, before dipping my head and claiming them. My tongue fought entrance, your nails clutching at my leather jacket as I was showing no mercy at the assault of my hips and mouth. Our make-out session was brimful of lust, and a lecherous frisson ran down my spine. 

You were battling for a breath and I, to savor you. To ravage your sweaty flesh and my teeth marks to remain on your skin like favorable tattoos.

You are meant for me.

“Good. Because no one will have that but me.”

In a flash of movement, my hand forced your head back to the hood, and focusing on the thrust of my hips, my balls tightened as I ejaculated inside you. Letting my high linger for a while, I finally withdrew to fix my trousers.

Then I bend down to your entrance and sucking my cum from your red cunt, I grab a fistful of your hair, craning your neck to the side. As if you knew what I was planning, you opened your mouth like a good girl and I spit my seed for you to swallow.

I slapped your cheek with a mischievous smirk stretching across my lips.

“You did drugs, didn’t you?” You finally fess up once we are back in the car and ready to head back to the destination of my apartment. You might think I abide by the promise of returning you back to your house, though I won’t. After that experience, I don’t think I will be able to let you out of my sticky webs.

“Like someone wise said, don’t ask the obvious.”

You smiled at my tease, thus I noticed at the corner of my eye that there was sadness on your exterior. You weren’t fond of, since we first crossed paths, about me caning to such substances but it is easier to resume rather than quitting.

Soon your brows knitted into a deep line, losing yourself in your dreaming bubble. “You said about someone watching me when… You know…”

“Bending you over and fucking you?”

Blush crept through your cheeks and I repressed a laugh. “Yes. What was that about?”

Oh, how much I wanted to confess my sins of watching you on the restless night were exhaustion couldn’t reach me due to being far gone with your image invading my brain like obnoxious wasps. Therefore, when I glanced at your way and saw you skeptical, I just couldn’t.

In the end, I lied that it was simply a razz and there was no truth in my statement — thanking the destiny when you seemed convinced by my falsehood.

However, when you opened the sun visor to fix your smeared makeup, a photo slipped, before falling on your lap. And that photo was from nowhere else but you at the party I picked you up from.

[niteshade925]

April 13, Xi'an, China, Shaanxi Archaeology Museum/陕西考古博物馆 (Part 2 - Shang and Zhou dynasty):

A 1:1 replica of a Warring States period (476 - 221 BC) horse chariot that was unearthed in an ancient tomb in Gansu province. The original artifact was made of lacquered wood, decorated with gold, silver, bronze, turquoise, and other semi-precious stones; it's basically the "Lamborghini" of its time. This replica was just sitting in the hallway in between exhibition halls, and it's very big:

Another one of my favorites, which is also one of the stars of the museum. These are called xizun/牺尊, which are animal-shaped bronze wine vessels (notice the lid on its back). This particular pair is "deer-shaped", but also has patterns on the sides that look like bird wings and paws that look like those of predators. Ugh they are so cute...🥺

A Western Zhou dynasty (1046 - 771 BC) "lunch box" made of bronze, called a luxu/录盨. It was found inside of a Western Han dynasty (202 BC - 8 AD) tomb, indicating that even Chinese people from 2000 years ago had an interest in collecting artifacts from earlier times

More bronze food/wine vessels from Shang dynasty (1600 - 1046 BC) and Zhou dynasty (1046 - 256 BC). Top one is called a gui/簋, bottom left is a gu/觚, and bottom right is a jue/爵. The tall-footed wine vessels can be used to warm up wine before drinking, by heating it with a small flame placed between the feet.

This is what a complete set of bronze vessels from Shang/Zhou dynasties looks like. This particular set, called "fanjin and thirteen vessels"/柉禁十三器 (translated as "Altar Set") is currently at the Met. This diagram below gives the name of each vessel:

Bronze chariot decorations with turquoise inlays. The bronze would have looked golden back then

A little bronze dragon. Cute.

Late Western Zhou dynasty pendant made of jade and agate beads called a yupei/玉佩, and from what I can gather, this one should be part of a necklace, which would be one heavy necklace indeed. I feel like a lighter modern replica might go well with sweaters though:

Left: necklaces, bracelets, and armlets from Spring and Autumn period (770 - 476 BC). Right: another jade and agate yupei from Spring and Autumn period, but this one was probably supposed to be hung from the waist.

This one is known as the Rui Gong ding/芮公鼎 or "Cauldron of Duke Rui", which is a bronze tripod ritual vessel (known as ding/鼎). It is inscribed with the text "内(芮)公乍(作)铸口宫宝鼎，万年子孙永宝用", which roughly translates as "Duke Rui cast this treasured ding, may his descendants use it for ten thousand years to come".

More bronze vessels. The top two are ding/鼎 vessels. Sidenote: notice the right one......does it look familiar? I'm pretty sure the rectangular ding is one of the inspirations for the design of TotK's temple of time. Also note the design patterns...I'm fairly certain these are the inspiration for TotK's aesthetics. TotK's Zonai script is also clearly inspired by Seal script/篆书 (I do want to make a post on this but my hands are pretty full atm)

Gold decorations on accessories:

An (incomplete?) bianzhong/编钟 (bronze bell set) and bianqing/编磬 set. The pentagonal stone chimes on the bottom are part of the bianqing.

A paper that studied the oldest face cream found in China (link to the article on Nature for those who have access).

Wadang/瓦当 (decorative roof edges) from Warring States period featuring various animals and mythical creatures, and their moulds:

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby, Pain is Pleasure - Part 3

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – THESE WARNINGS COVER ALL PARTS OF THIS FICTION- THEY MAY NOT BE SPECIFIC TO THIS PARTICULAR PART!- 

SMUT,  GIRL X GIRL, MAN X MAN, POLY RELATIONSHIPS/SEXUAL, BDSM, BLOOD, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) CHEATING, STALKERS/ STALKING

I’m going to apologize to you all now, and prewarn you in advance, this is an absolute rollercoaster of a storyline! Shits about to get REAL messy! 

TAG LIST - @babybatlover

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure – Part 3

Late afternoon had seen the sun burn the remainder of the clouds from the sky, leaving a beautiful blue horizon view from across the backyard. Flocks of birds gathered as they headed over the break line, waving in and out of the smoke coming from our BBQ pit. 

I sat, gently rocking my feet back and forth on the chair egg swing we had attached to one of the older grand oak trees in our yard. It was all I had wanted when we moved in, somewhere calm and content where I could just exist. Enjoy my time, enjoy my life, and admire the world around me. Ponder life’s big questions… 

‘LOCKER WITNESSES’ 

I re read that message repeatedly in my mind, who was it from? witnessed what? 

I had deleted the other text from my phone, I wasn’t going down that road. 

The sounds of two men’s deep voices bought me back, looking over to my lovers I could see Finn & Damien adorned in their matching ‘TOP CHEF’ aprons and cooking utensils with a beer in hand, either chatting away or debating about how best to cook the chicken. 

Whilst further down on the sun loungers, Rhea had stripped down to one of her thin black bikinis with the metal skull clip fastenings, she was catching the last of the sunrays to her already perfect Sunkissed skin.  Christ, how did I get so lucky as to be a part of this incredible love…. Pentagon? It’s a five-way love triangle, let’s leave it at that.

When we had been initially searching for a house to buy, one to really call home that is; we had all had something in mind we desperately wanted as a feature. We knew it needed to be a big house, one with a master bedroom where we could assemble out two King size beds that had been custom made to attach in the middle, I cannot begin to tell you how comfortable and comforting it is being held close and safe by the four people you love more than anything in the world. 

The guilt though…

Still, obviously Rhea & Finn were dead set on having a large garage/ open internal space to set up the home gym. Of course, whilst on the road we still used a lot of public gyms and one-off hotel workout rooms here and there, but when we are at home, in each other’s company, away from the world, the fans, all that attention. It is so lovely knowing we don’t have to leave our little safe haven.

Damian had specifically made it clear he wanted a huge kitchen, open planned that backed into a dinning area. When we moved in, he had taken the time to build up a barista style coffee corner and a breakfast station on the central island. Then with Finn’s help, they worked on a D.I.Y project together to design and create a full bar set up next to the table and chairs where we ate. They had eventually given in and allowed Dom to help with the painting of the bar, because he wanted to be a ‘DIY Man’ too. 

The boys always referred to it as the lad’s corner, a custom-built wooden bar that was painted a deep tranquil green and black with illuminated LED letters on the wall; ‘ALL RISE, ALL DRINK’.   That however did not stop Rhea and I from emptying some of those back bar bottles on one of many messy nights! For some reason, whenever Rhea breaks out the Tequila, we always end up playing strip twister… Odd. 

Dominick, of course… wanted a gaming room. Not just any gaming room mind you, a ‘Mens” gaming room. 

*Sigh* 

Problem is he is just so adorable at times, and we all give in, he had been granted his request of course! Although Priest put his foot down when Dom had asked for an indoor arcade style basketball hoop game, he was allowed a hoop outside but that was it. We had all seen enough broken windows during the season when Finn had tried to teach Damien and Dominick how to play golf. 

It still makes me laugh when the boys talk about how they would feel guilty that they were off spending time together, while Rhea and I would miss out? Ha. Little did they know when they buggered off to do ‘man’s stuff’ we girls would high tail it upstairs to the family bathroom and strip off into the bathtub for some… girl’s time. *Wink Wink* 

I remember one morning; Rhea and I were standing in the arched doorway at the crack of dawn waving the boys off as they set out on an early start to play a full days Golf. Leaning into her chest I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes as she bent her head down and nuzzled her lips into the crook of my neck. 

“I tell you now Y/N, I would rather run the risk of drowning when we get in that bathtub, and I bury my face deep in your pussy… then stand in a damp field hitting a stick at a ball.” Her teeth nipped at the skin of my ear lobe and my entire body melted at her touch. 

Christ the things that woman does to me. 

A loud crash had bought me back to reality, Dom had been trying to carry a tray of drinks out to the garden for us all but had tripped over some excess weigh plates we had left outside, sending the poor lad flying arse over tit. 

“Shit! God damn it, ow fuck!” Dom pulled himself up to his knees, swiping the drinks tray away in frustration before noticing blood trickling down his arm from the glasses that he had smashed across the decking. He was quick to freeze, unable to process what to do next or how to stand up safely. 

Rhea was quick to make her way over to him from the sun lounger, followed by Damian who handed Finn his spatula and beer before rushing over to help the poor lad. 

I know, I know I should have been focused on the fact that the boy I loved so much needed some help, some TLC, compassion, and support… 

But I am only human. 

And Rhea Bloody Ripley…. 

Running….

In a mini black laced bikini…

Slightly wet from the heat of the sun touching her skin, God how she glistened. How she got my motor running and…

Finn had noticed my distraction and whistled loudly, gathering my attention. 

“Aye! Lass, enough of that! Go... Take a lap!” He gestured, pointing to the end of the field in our garden. The yard stretched about 1/4 of a mile down and was cut off by the woodland. One of my favorite things about this house was the nature that came with it. It all felt so…natural and back down to earth compared to the chaos and mayhem at WWE. 

Pointing his BBQ tongs and Damian’s spatula at me, Finn raised his eyebrow. 

“No distractions, ya hear!” 

I tried not to laugh at his remark, turning my face away to hide my snicker and rolling my eyes. I was still wearing my gym gear from before; except I had nabbed one of Dominick’s merch shirts on the way to the garden from the drying rack, I was self-conscious about my stomach, and I liked to hide my body where I could. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?!” Finn sternly questioned me as he put the utensils down. 

At this point Rhea was taking Dom inside through the double doors, whilst Damian stood back up and turned in my direction. 

Fuck… they are hot when they get all dominant. 

“Mi Vida, did you roll your eyes?�� Damian’s words were colder, flat, and prominent. I could tell he was almost looking for a reason to get me upstairs into the bedroom. Christ I was half tempted to give him a solid reason. 

Put me across your lap Papa Priest, let me feel the strength between your thighs and lay it into me Goddamn it! 

The devil on my shoulder sang its heart out at the idea, but I remembered earlier when Finn has spun the actions back against me. Leaving me alone and sexually frustrated I thought better of the situation. 

“Me? I would never…” I said quite obnoxious/sarcastically and smiled that cheeky brat look at them before hopping up off the tree swing. I could see Damian trying not to break or give in… but a slight smirk crept into the corner of his lips.  

“I’m going to take a lap!” I stated and grinned before making a run for it, heading down and out of sight from the lads. I had a much better plan in mind to deal with my frustrations when I got in the shower later anyway. 

I was out of breath by the time I got back towards our street, less than a ¼ mile to go! I had decided to go for a proper run to clear my mind. A good few miles should do the trick, that’s what Rhea always said! With my headphones in and a decent playlist on, nothing was going to stop me! 

One foot after another I pressed on, sweat dripping down my neck I desperately tried to Shake off all that nervous energy I had built up now that WrestleMania was less than 2 weeks away. I had been on edge at times, and it showed when I trained in the ring with Rhea and Dom. Running back-to-back moves, counters, pins, and submissions, it was like every time I thought I had learnt it someone would come along and wipe my slate clean, and I knew nothing again. 

Maybe I wasn’t ready to be a champion? 

Maybe I was out of my depth? 

Rhea should be in this match not me. 

Me? Y/W/N? Was I really cut out to be a champion? 

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket as I continued running. I tried looking at my smart watch as I ran, though it was tricky to focus on a smaller screen. 

I could see a couple messages from Finn stating the food was ready, one from Damian also telling me the food was ready, one from Dom telling me he was going to eat my hot dog if I didn’t hurry up and one from Rhea telling me she wasn’t going to let Dom touch my food. 

Honestly this lot, I love them so much. 

Turning into our street I could see our house gate entrance just up the hill, with a little spring in my step I pushed on feeling like I was picking up speed. I felt energized, I felt incredible, maybe I could do this after all! 

With the gate just in reach and the sweet smokey smell of the BBQ lingering in the air I put my head down to push those least few feet… 

But within a split second I felt something behind me. 

The music cut out as my headphones were launched to the floor and my arms locked in tight by a strength I hadn’t ever had to match. Kicking my legs out I felt them rise off the floor and before I could even fathom the mental capacity to make a sound the feeling of sticky back plastic tape suckered its way in across my lips. My eyes pooled up as the bag went over my head and my vision became darkness. A hard and cold metal floor was met with my body weight as I was hurled inside, my heart beating out of my chest the fear became all too real as I felt the ground under move away at speed. 

A hot breath came down my neck, raising every last hair on my skin to react. The voice was muffled, as if speaking through a mask. 

“You did this Y/N…” 

“You did this… and now you cannot handle the monster you created.” 

The silence in between each word was deafening, but it was the next voice that bought the fear of God into my soul. 

“ Told you I’d find you...miss me?” 

TO BE CONTINUED

[ashertickler]

I NEED AARON SO BADLY FAHHHHCK JUST ONE CHANCE ONE LICK ONE TASTE ONE FUCKING FUCK im going insane i need him in a way that's concerning to feminism he can call me every name under the sun and I'd still ride i'm being so fr that man has me in a VICE GRIP and it's cutting off the blood circulation to my brain but it's ok cos it's aaron and he can do whatever like UP DOWN LEFT RIGHT LEFT RIGHT SIDEWAYS BACKWARDS UPSIDE DOWN IN THE AIR UNDERGOUND EXPONENTIALLY INSIDE OUT LOOP DE LOOP PRETZEL UNDERWATER IN SPACE THROUGH A WALL IN AREA 51 INSIDE THE PENTAGON i need to consume him and then he consumes me and and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *car crash noise* *aggressive clown horns* *blood curdling screaming* *angry monkey noises* *air raid sirens wailing* *distant explosions* *gunshots* *maniacal joker laughter* *slippery sound effect* *motorcycle engine revving* *nails on chalkboard* *high pitched giggling* *loud gulping noises* *chesty coughing* *wheezing* *fog horn noises* *wolf whistle* *choking and gagging* *more explosions* *screams of fear* *ticking noises* *lion roaring*

[writers-potion]

How to raise animals and plants?

Hmmmm I've never had a pet and I've basically killed every plant that has ever set foot in my life?? Should ask a gardening blog -

Okay just joking, I can adress that question in two ways:

"raising" animals and plant like how you'd raise a demon

raising magical/fiction animals and plants

Summoning Animals and Plants

I don't imagine raising animals and plants being too different from summoning anything magically. It could be as simple as:

Setting up a magic system that allows magic practitioners to conjure plants and animals out of thin air

A pentagon-and-candle style ritual that would summon animals/plants in the middle once the right spells have been executed.

A magical instrument (like a horn, flute) that would call out to animals and plants nearby to you

Some ideas for summoning spells/rituals:

You need to call the animal/plant's "true name" to get their attention.

Once summoned, you are stuck with them for life.

You can summon powerful animals/plants, but you'll need to share you "life force" with them, eating into you own lifespan.

You can only summon the animal when you have a piece of their body - like a tooth, feather, or droplets of saliva.

When you summon a young animal, it will imeediately consider you to be their "mother". Good luck raising them.

Humans and animal/plant have a contractual relationship where a mother would send their young to a human to be trained after a certain age.

Plants cannot be uprooted from the exact locations they've been raised. Even if it's your bed or toliet.

Nurturing Fantasy Animals and Plants

There are a few ways in which raising fantasy pets can be different:

What they eat: metal? human blood? a horribly large amount of paper? Would it be troublesome for the owner to feed them?

Their size: The fantasy animal may switch from one form to another, with drastic difference in size. Or they can be so small/ so large that it's hard to maintain them.

Level of intelligence: either very low or very high would be interesting

Capacity for language:/communication Give them an interesting way to communicate. Perhaps

Lifespan: would they live longer than you? Perhaps for centuries?

Capacity for empathy: do they understand emotion? would they snuggle up to comfort you during long, cold nights?

Mode of regeneration: how do they reproduce? Do their younglings look different from their adult form?

For plants, especially:

How they move around/do they move at all. Maybe you'll have to stuff them in a handbag and carry it around?

Carnivorous?

Can you define whether they are male/female?

Hope this helps! :) Happy writing.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[mortimermcmirestinks]

a complete list

so we got the following already:

AFAB = assigned female at birth

AMAB = samesies but for the bros

ACAB = fuck them pigs

AHAB = guy who wants to fuck and/or kill a sperm whale

so I'm gonna give you the other 22. ready? let's go

AAAB: the muuuscle in your miiidseeection

ABAB: 🔥🔥swedish band typo🔥🔥

ACAB: fuck them pigs

ADAB: world's most rad dance move

AEAB: assigned evil at birth

AFAB: doctor said you were a dame right when you slunk out the pusspuss

AGAB: what the doctor said you was when you slopped on outta the verjubit

AHAB: from hell's heart I tap that cetacean or whatever I never read it

AIAB: all investigators are bisexual

AJAB: a friendly poke

AKAB: all kops are bastardz

ALAB: like asexual but for science experiments instead of sexual attraction. short for "alaboratory"

AMAB: doctor said you were a bloke the second you shot out of the ol' utero cannon

ANAB: someone very sneakily trying to name their D&D character after a banana. don't let them get away with it

AOAB: desperately trying to remember the official Maori name for New Zealand but I'm so so bad at spelling

APAB: assigned pussy magnet at birth

AQAB: the guy from the new GAY version of Moby Dick. this version's called Moby Pronouns. the woke agenda has gone too far!!!!!

ARAB: an ethnic group mainly inhabiting the ARAB world in West Asia and North Africa. A significant ARAB diaspora is present in various parts of the world. Arabs have been in the Fertile Crescent for thousands of years. In the 9th century BCE, the As

ASAB: ahh!! stinkyyy!!! aww, baby

ATAB: the thing you start at a bar when you don't want to pay up right away. ALTERNATE JOKE: the thing you hit to go to the next cell in Excel

AUAB: sound a turtle makes when it's ramming ham

AVAB: only known word to be a perfect anagram of both "balaclava" AND "baklava"

AWAB: assigned weeb at boston

AXAB: amnestic XK-class anomalous being

AYAB: alla youse are bullshit

AZAB: mystery option. nobody knows what this one is. if you know what this one is, send your knowledge to the Pentagon and they will send you a shiny American penny.

glad to help out!! just playing my small role in the queer community. fuck cops also

[birdofmay]

I just saw one of those "autism isn't linear, it's a spectrum" posts again and one picture was that how much the traits are pronounced could look like this:

[ID: two golden circles filled with the spectral colours. There are five white dots in each circle, each for one of the five categories: "sensory", "language", "executive function", "motor skills", and "perception". One dot is connected with its neighbouring dot by a black line, making it a simple polygon. In the first circle, it's almost a triangle, in the second circle it's a pentagon. Unfortunately my maths isn't good enough to tell you the name of the pentagon, but the bottom and the right side appear to be of equal length. /end ID]

And yeah, exactly, to use the outdated terms "high functioning" and "low functioning" - this individual here would be considered high functioning. Some traits are very pronounced and in fact very disabling. That's why "high functioning" dismisses the struggles of those autistics.

But they are considered high functioning because there are many traits that aren't that pronounced.

To illustrate that, this here would be someone considered low functioning:

[ID: The circle from above, but now there's a black line subsequently drawn within the circle, almost bordering the golden line. There are no white dots, but just imagine that the dots are on the outer edges, meaning that the traits are very pronounced. /end ID]

And you do see the difference, right? Every trait is very pronounced, very disabling, there's nothing that's not on the outer edges.

Sure, low functioning doesn't make sense when it's applied casually to every autistic with intellectual disability, or when it's applied to everyone who has some traits that aren't very pronounced - and unfortunately that was the case way too often.

But I just wanted to illustrate "severity" to you.

This is why I was diagnosed with "severe autism", because none of my traits are "weak" enough to compensate for the pronounced traits.

I don't like functioning labels either, I especially think that high functioning is very harmful if it's applied to an individual by others because it ignores that many of those autistics still have needs that need to be met and still struggle and (often) still in fact are disabled.

But you do see the difference, right?

My language skills got better over time (as you can read), but I still can't speak. My motor skills got better over time, but I still need people to help me with BADLs. My perception got better recently - I now sometimes hear when people call my name. But everything else? My perception is still shit.

That's the difference. That's why "high functioning" dismisses struggles but at the same time definitely is different from people diagnosed with severe autism. You can't even compare your bad days with our good days. Our life is completely different because we don't have those "weak traits" in the circle that you have.

Right.

And we definitely need to talk about the "neither nor" category of medium functioning and medium support needs, but that's for another day. This autism acceptance month maybe 😁

[melhindips]

Day 353

Lebanon:

‼️ Biggest Israeli bombings of Lebanon since 1980s massacre 492 people incl. 35+ kids & injure 1,645+ in south & east Lebanon today. Israel prepares for “next phases” possibly ground invasion

🇱🇧 Hezbollah attacks IOF bases, fires 180+ rockets at Haifa, Tel Aviv & West Bank colonies, causing casualties & striking Iron Dome facility

📳 80,000+ Israeli “psychological warfare” evacuation calls to residents as Israel demands depopulation of Bekaa Valley

🏫 All Lebanon schools shut, impacting 1.5 mil students

🔻 Hamas commander Hussein al-Nader killed by strike on Lebanon

🇺🇸 Biden-Harris admin’s Pentagon backs Israeli “right to defend itself”, prepares to send troops to Middle East in addition to 40k+ stationed

Palestine:

‼️ Israeli cabinet considers plan to fully ethnically cleanse north Gaza, make closed military zone

🇵🇸 IOF attacks on Gaza kill 24+ today

🚜 Israel demolishes same Palestinian Bedouin village in Naqab Desert for 230th time

🇵🇸 Deir al-Balah (central): IOF strike on home kills mom & 4 kids. 2 people killed, several injured in IOF bombing of vehicle

🇵🇸 South: IOF drone kills a Palestinian, wounds dozens in Khuza’a. Bombing of Khan Younis family home kills 4

(🗳️ Vote in the above poll + let us know what you want from us on Lebanon)

[oddballwriter]

The Second

Summary: After going on an unplanned adventure with your best friend and crush, his host, and his host's wife to stop the end of the world, and ending up in an accidental love triangle... square...whatever shape it is, you go back to your hometown to clear your mind. It's a great success for you, helping you reconnect with your childhood friend and even bring him back to continue the fun and show him your life in London. But unbeknownst to you, it seems like it might just cause a rift that is born on one side of the triangle.

Warnings: Love triangle and unrequited feelings. The reader is referred to using she/her. Angst, it's soft but it's there. Third-wheeling. I can't think of anything else but I feel like there's more, if there is just tell me. 

Author’s Snip: This is sort of a pilot for a series idea that I have that involves all kinds of love shape situations, rivalry, and dragging friends into all kinds of avatar shenanigans on accident. So if you guys like this, let me know so that I can prep and have it ready for writing and planning.

Notes: This is not proofread before posting, if there are errors blame Grammarly for not catching it. I might fix them later.  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2,892

Tag List: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

What an adventure you just went on. It all feels so unreal when you even try and think about it. Even as you stare up at the ceiling above your bed you find it hard to really digest fully.

Your good friend Steven turned out to be an alter for a person with DID who's named Marc Spector, whom you had not met, ever, throughout you and Steven's close friendship. In which Marc is the avatar and fist of justice for the Egyptian god Khonshu and was living his life while Steven was not fronting, unbeknownst to Steven, and has been playing a game of keep-away with a cult and their leader for a scarab. And you ended up finding all that out when some members of the cult kidnapped you to intimidate Steven and Marc. By the way, Marc is married and has been married, to a woman named Layla. And so you had to go on this whole adventure with all three of them to stop the end of the world, or something, nearly dying on several occasions, and now it's done apparently. Crisis averted. Also, there is a fucking third one.

You're sure that if you told someone outside of your journal and your new group of friends about this, then you would be thrown into a psychiatric hospital in record time.

And that isn't even mentioning all the complicated feelings you're having right now about the love triangle, that only you are aware of. Because of course, you're in a love triangle that the two other people have no idea exists. It's complicated. It was a little complicated at the start, and now it's so much more complicated because now there's another person involved.

Scratch that, four people involved. This is a love square.

Fuck it, now that Jake's here it might actually be a love pentagon now!

Either way, it all has to do with your feelings towards Steven. You had developed them pretty early on in your friendship with Steven because you just so happened to fall into your type. Dork, sweet, funny, and polite guys were your weakness. You tried to fight them off, not wanting to ruin the friendship that you honestly valued with Steven. But he just had this aura and energy that had your heart like a moth to a flame. Some might call it a slow burn. You'd say that it all was fast. But the warmth went to heat that got painful when you found out about Marc and Layla, and thus Steven and Layla.

You're not mad at Layla. Of course not! Why would you? She was there first, technically. It feels bad to say that. Both because you'd have to try and snuff out the feelings that you have, but also because it sounds wrong. It sounds like Steven's an object to be won instead of a person with his own thoughts and feelings. And you never once saw him like that. He was Steven. Nice, sweet, funny Steven.

You knew you needed to move on, even if it hurt. You know you don't have the guts and nerve to be 'the other person' even if you got the chance to be. It would be disrespectful to Layla, and Layla's a great woman. You settle on going back home, to your hometown, to see family and friends in hopes that it'll distract you, maybe even help you get over it if you're lucky. You call up your family who gladly accept the idea and will set up the room that you'll stay in by the time you get there. With that, you pack your bags, get ready for the trip, and head off.

You don't tell Steven that you're leaving to anywhere at first until you're just about to leave, figuring that if he tries to visit you and you're not there he'll assume someone else has kidnapped you and panic. You just send him a simple "As a heads up I'll be out of town for a while. I need a break.", at some point in your trip heading towards your hometown he texts you back with a single "Okay. Sounds nice.".

As it turns out, going around old loved ones really does help your blues. Matter of fact it seems like everyone from your life here heard the news that you'd be spending a few weeks in town and all got together to see you. Your uncle and dad actually threw a little family cookout so that everyone can come say hi to you.

Everyone had questions for you. What's London like? What have you been doing? How's life going over there?

Of course, you can't tell them about all the recent events and you also don't want to ruin your good mood by talking about Steven like you probably would have if this were a trip not spawned from him, in a sense. Overall, everyone's just happy you're back regardless.

You meet a really old face amidst the crowd of family and friends who've assembled. Samson. Sammy. God, you'd know his face anywhere and you know he'd know yours too. You and Sammy have been best friends since diapers. Your moms were friends. Apparently, the story goes that your mom and dad were at the courthouse waiting in line to sign the marriage papers and so were Sammy's mom and dad. Your mothers started talking and it turns out they have a lot in common. By the time both parties left the courthouse, they were in each other's weddings, to which they then found out that they both would be moving into the same area to settle down. Your moms swear that you and Sammy being close in age was just a coincidence but you always joked that it wasn't.

Sammy is hard to put into words. How do you describe the person who's been your best friend since both of you were coloring with crayons and all the way to high school graduations and beyond? The number one person you would talk to about things outside of your parents and through all of the other friends you've both had throughout your lives, the one that has always been the same. Sammy is just Sammy to you, in the most sincere way possible.

After seeing each other at the cookout you catch up on just about everything. What you've been up to, any life milestones you've gotten to while apart. You tell him about London and he tells you about his life here in town. Sammy's gotten up to a few things, had a few girlfriends, and apparently, he's developed his own business. Turns out he's a handyman and locksmith now and makes great money. Gets to make his own hours, so he says. Sammy teases you a bit and asks if you've been collecting British boyfriends. You know it's just a tease but it plucks at the still tender parts of your heart a little. You brush it off and say no.

"No?" Sammy questions, "Come on. Someone like you over there? You're kidding me. You've got to have some guys waiting like a dog for you to come back." he says. You decide to play along in the banter.

"Maybe I do. What of it, Sam-I-Am." you shrug, pretending like he's trying to compete and also pulling out old childhood nicknames. Sammy cringes and the nickname, "Oof, not the Sam-I-Am from kindergarten. You know only my dad called me that until you said it in class. Then everyone started calling me that till fifth grade." Sammy laughs. "Not you doing your shitty British accents when I said I had a thing for British boys back in seventh grade." you reference and make a call back of your own. "It made you laugh and that was my goal." Sammy playfully defended.

For a good half of your stay, Sammy was there, like always, and you would be talking about the old days. Referencing various moments and laughing or cringing together. It felt so nostalgic and good to just feel that bond again, have someone who knows all your little inside jokes and references because they were there when it was formed, and you both didn't want it to stop.

So when the day that you were to go back to London you threw out the idea that Sammy come back with you and continue the fun there. Show him what you've been doing and show him the little life you've created there.

Even though you live in a one-bedroom apartment you managed to accommodate your guest pretty well. You always knew that the pull-out bed extension of your couch that you bought second-hand would have a use someday. You two settled on rules and bases, along with where various things are in case they're needed.

After that, it was just more talking that made the time go by so fast and other things seem so minuscule. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact that you had a brief text conversation with Steven when you got back basically just telling him that you were back and what you're up to right now. It wasn't until he texted you something that sort of snapped you out of it.

You: I'm not really doing anything but my friend came back with me and will be here for a bit.

Steven: Oh that's nice

Steven: Can I meet them maybe?

You weren't sure how long you spent looking at that message, but it was long enough that Sammy noticed. "Something wrong?" he asks. "No," you reply, "Just one of my friends. He says he wants to meet you... if you're okay with that," you explain but hesitate slightly at the end, not really liking the sound of having Steven over right now after being able to get him off your mind. "Sure! I'd love to meet one of your friends here." Sammy responds, "If that's alright with you of course." he adds.

You take a second to weigh it out in your mind. On one hand, having the guy that you have feelings for over after you went on a whole vacation partially because he doesn't feel that way towards you doesn't sound like the best idea. But maybe having Sammy here will reduce that feeling of awkwardness since it can just be having your friends meet each other.

Taking the gamble, you tell Steven that he's good to come over.

The next few minutes are spent continuing to talk to Sammy, making jokes and having banter. When you hear the knock at your door you and a text from Steven that announces that he's arrived. You get up from the couch and make your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. And there he is, smiling at you and giving you his usual polite little "hello". You greet him back before stepping out of the way so that he can come in.

Sammy gets up from his seat on the couch and comes to shake Steven's hand. You see Steven hesitate briefly and sort of freeze up before taking the hand shake. You step in between them.

"Steven, this is my childhood friend, Samson. Samson, this is my friend Steven." you introduce them to each other and gesture to them respectively. "Nice to meet you!" Sammy comments. "Likewise," Steven responds.

You all take a seat, you and Sammy back on the couch while Steven takes a chair from your little dining table set. Sammy and Steven have some good small talk back and forth, talking the usual stuff when you meet new people. You can see Steven being a little fidgety, picking at his sweater sleeve, nodding along but having a small crease between his brows. All things that he does when he's nervous or concerned with something, you take it as Steven being shy about meeting and talking to new people like he usually is. You take it upon yourself to sort of help him by bringing up subjects that you know he's good at talking about.

"Steven loves Ancient Egypt and mythos. He knows pretty much everything," you mention. Sammy raises his brows in interest, "Really?" he questions. "Oh yeah," Steven confirms, "I would have made a bloody good tour guide if my superior wasn't out to get me." Steven remarks. You see Sammy hold back a laugh in the corner of your vision, you turn to him and light-heartedly scold him with a "Stop it.". Sammy looks towards you, his smile growing to a shit-eating grin. "Stop it," you repeat, "Behave. I told you not to laugh," you say as you struggle to keep your own laughter in. "He said the thing." Sammy squeaks out before letting a few laughs leave him. You lean in and bap him on the shoulder playfully, "Stop," you warn as you give him a few baps.

Steven lets out a small laugh that only you can tell is his fake trying-to-pretend-I-get-it laugh. "I'm sorry, Steven." you apologize, "Not even 24 hours in and he doesn't know how to act," you say as you look back to Sammy and give him a playful shake. "I'm sorry." Sammy says to Steven, "There's an inside joke to it I swear." he says.

"What's the joke?" Steven inquires. Your face drops, knowing what Sammy is going to say. "Don't you dare," you warn Sammy as you try to cover his mouth, but Sammy already knew that you are going to stop him and is ready to block your hand. You both spend a few seconds lightly wrestling as you try to cover his mouth and he blocks you in some way. "It has something to do with her-" Sammy says before you interrupt him with a "No!" in objection, "British boyfriend!" Sammy announces. "I don't have a British boyfriend!" you object through laughs as you hit him with a couch pillow. You both spend a few moments laughing. When you finally calm down you find Steven looking at the two of you like you've grown and extra head.

You sigh and look to Sammy, "Why don't you explain 'British boyfriend' to him since you want to talk about it so much?". "Okay, okay," Sammy submits. "This one," Sammy says pointing at you, "Had a thing for this one kid who was visiting family for the summer in our home neighborhood back in seventh grade, or seventh year, whatever it's called here. And so we have this joke that he was her British boyfriend. And I used to do a really bad accent to make her laugh and get all embarrassed.", Sammy looks at you and reassures, "I'm not going to do it, don't worry.".

The conversation goes on but you and Sammy can't help but say more jokes that you then need to explain to Steven, which leads to other stories and laughing fits between the two of you. You try to do the same with Steven in case he references something between the two of you, but you find that Steven just seems to sit there and listen, nodding along. You want to try and prompt something but at some point, you're able to sense this weird tension in the air whenever you do.

You aren't too sure what to do. You don't want to shoo Steven out since you've always said that Steven was always welcomed at your place, but the atmosphere is strange between the two of you for some reason. It isn't until Sammy gives something that would get the job done.

"You know, it's really nice to meet you, Steven. But I think the traveling is starting to catch up with me." Sammy says as he stretches his arms out. "Oh, no worry. I was actually thinking of getting out of your hair. You know..." Steven responds, "Since you guys probably had to get out early to get back here." he clarifies. Steven was already getting up to leave by the time he even started talking.

Sammy and you get up also, and you go in for the usual goodbye hug that you and Steven do when parting ways, Sammy shakes Steven's hand again and says his goodbyes.

Once Steven leaves, you and Sammy set up the couch so that Sammy can nap for a bit. You head to your room so that you can take one for yourself and reflect on the meeting. You still have a bit of that feeling of weird tension but figure that maybe Steven wasn't prepared for all the energy that you and Sammy created and all the inside jokes. Maybe a second get-together could help with that. After all, it might be great to have two best friends also be best friends with each other.

Meanwhile, Steven walks back, sitting in his thoughts quietly as he walks until Marc appears in a reflection along the walk. "What's with the long face?" Marc asks. Steven glances at Marc for a moment, "Nothing, it's just that..." Steven opens up with, "I felt like a bit of a third wheel over there." he admits. Marc shrugs, "Well it is her friend from her hometown, isn't it? I'm sure they'd be all chatty with each other.".

"Yeah, I suppose so." Steven replies, "It just felt a bit... off." Steven remarks.

[sprites4ever]

DE-BULLSHITIFYING THE RECENT DEVELOPMENTS OF THE RUSSO-UKRAINIAN WAR, AS OF THE 12TH OF DECEMBER 2024

Since both russian media (for the sake of propaganda) and Western media (for the sake of clicks) misrepresent and misreport many news items regarding this conflict, I feel the need to clarify the big headlines, as per my own research.

AS RUSSIA HAS CROSSED THIS SO-CALLED 'RED LINE' ON THE FIRST DAY OF THEIR INVASION, Joe Biden has finally given Ukraine permission to use Army Tactical Missile Systems (ATACMS) supplied by the US, to strike russian troops and military instalations on internationally recognized russian territory. ATACMS have a range lf 300 kilometers and can only be fired at russian border regions from Ukraine. The United Kingdom and France have quickly followed suit, permitting Ukraine to do the same with the Storm Shadow/SCALP missiles supplied by them. This move has angered russians who have been firing missiles, including hypersonic, aerobalistic, ones with far greater range than ATACMS and nuclear-capable ones, at Ukraine themselves since day one. In an escalation disguised as a mirror response to strikes on military instalations, as is a typical russian tactic, russia has fired a new type of hypersonic missile with the prototype name 'ORESHNIK' (russian: 'Hazel') at a civilian industrial facility in Dnipro, Ukraine, calling it a 'message to the West', regarding russia's 'red lines'. The American Right, including President-elect Donald Trump, has, due to their support of russia, latched onto the renewed public attention due to this russian escalation, abusing fears of World War Three for their own purposes, by echoing russian narratives, painting Biden and the Democrats as warmongers in the war russia started, is escalating and which they could end any day. Donald Trump has now for the first time commented Joe Biden's ATACMS decision himself in an interview with Time Magazine, instead of letting his cronies like his son Donald Trump Jr., Tucker Carlson etc. do the talking. He, of course, criticized the decision as senseless and an escalation. Unconfirmed rumors had previously claimed that, before Joe Biden made the decision to permit Ukraine to strike russia with ATACMS, Trump had discussed the matter in a meeting with him and had given his approval. My personal speculative opinion, given his now-published comments, is that Trump approved of the idea, just so he could call Biden a warmonger for it later. The Pentagon recently stated that russia had signaled its intention to launch another ORESHNIK missile, following Ukraine's continued ATACMS strikes at russian military instalations.

DE JURE PRESIDENT AND DE FACTO DICTATOR OF NATO AND EU NATION HUNGARY, Viktor Orban, has continued his undermining of the Western alliances with more pro-russian political maneuvering. He has announced that he had proposed a Christmas ceasefire and massive prisoner swap to russia and Ukraine, then claimed that Ukraine had rejected the proposal. Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov claimed that russia was interested in the proposal and reiterated the same russian lie that they were never opposed to peace talks. Factually, russia has sabotaged or rejected all diplomatic attempts at ending the war to conditions which would be acceptable for both Ukraine and russia, made by Ukraine, NATO nations, EU nations and even BRICS nations, since day zero. The Ukrainian government claimed that Orban had never made such a proposal to Ukraine. My personal opinion, given Orban's track record of lying, is that the Ukrainian government's claim is 100% truthful.

UKRAINIAN PRESIDENT ZELENSKYY HAS, in a disappointing, russia-style maneuver, massively understated Ukrainian battlefield losses, claiming that around 43.000 Ukrainian soldiers had been killed in the war. Most reliable Western estimates of Ukrainian casualties by mid-2024 averaged around at least 70.000.

ZELENSKYY HAS ALSO, in various statements, hinted at the possibility of ceding annexed territory to russia, in order to bring about a ceasefire, a possibility which he had previously ruled out. Ahead of a NATO meeting, Zelenskyy had proposed that NATO should invite only the Ukrainian-controlled parts of Ukraine into the alliance, in order to make it possible for Ukraine to join immediately, as NATO cannot accept new members which are at war. Since this was not done, Zelenskyy later also proposed that instead of an immediate NATO invitation, a ceasefire could also be guaranteed by stationing NATO peacekeeeping forces, after a ceasefire would be reached, a proposal which is currently being intensively discussed by the leaders of Germany, Poland, France and the United Kingdom. My opinion is that Zelenskyy is panicking due to Donald Trump, who is a russian agent and who spreads Putin's narratives verbatim, having been re-elected President of the United States. Because of Trump's threats to withdraw all support for Ukraine and perhaps even NATO, Zelenskyy is now trying to get a ceasefire in place as quickly as possible, instead of recapturing Ukrainian territories which were annexed by russia, in order to prevent a total russian destruction of Ukraine without American support. This is also why he's been insistent on joining NATO or getting NATO peacekeeping forces immediately, to guarantee that russia would honor any ceasefire.

WORKERS OF THE UNITED NATIONS' INTERNATIONAL ATOMIC ENERGY AGENCY (IAEA), who were allowed by russian occupiers to establish a presence at the occupied Ukrainian Zaphorizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant in the partially occupied Enerhodar region, for the purpose of maintaining the safety of the power plant, reported one of their vehicles having been struck by a drone on a road close to the power plant. My personal opinion is that, since the IAEA vehicles were travelling together with Ukrainian vehicles, this was definetly another russian false-flag operation, like russia's many other false-flag operations surrounding the power plant, in order to create fear of a nuclear catastrophe. If it wasn't clear yet, russia are global terrorists.

UNLIKE WHAT HEADLINES OF SOME WESTERN NEWS OUTLETS MIGHT INSINUATE, the russian Foreign Ministry's statement, warning russians of travelling to Western countries, has nothing to do with the Pentagon's statement that russia might launch another ORESHNIK missile. The full statement given by russian Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova is actually a tirade which projects any and all russian guilt of arbitrary enforcement of law, onto the United States, Canada and most EU nations, as is typical for russian propaganda.

[annaphoenix1994]

When the World Fades

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

I sat in the kitchen area at the end of the hallway, sitting alone as I recalled the last several hours, Valeria's words seeping into my mind like a bad infection. "You tell me. You're the contractor, no?"

That question replayed in my mind like a broken record, and I possibly was overthinking the question, but I knew better than to brush it off due to my gut instinct telling me to look into it more. Why did Valeria call him a contractor? Because contractors plan and execute ideas. Why would she call him a contractor if she didn't know something?

Immediately, I pulled out my phone to check for new notifications, a sigh of relief leaving me when I got an email notification from Kate, stating that she was now okay and was able to confirm that the guidance systems for the missiles were originally in Spain and were now on the missiles. I had my confirmation with something to branch off of for more research.

I took another drag from my vape pen, exhaling through my nose before I stood to my feet, making my way towards my room before locking myself inside. I was so fucking tired now that my adrenaline was wearing off, a faint soreness invading my limbs after I sat down at the small desk, opening my laptop and notepad to begin my research, the small piece of paper I had written on during Hassan's interrogation pressed beneath a paperclip on the first page of my notebook.

I was going to do more research, remembering how Kate mentioned why she was tasking me on this in the first place.

Starting off, I did a background check on both Graves and Shepherd, seeing that there wasn't anything to use for potential evidence.

That was, until I started digging a little deeper...

0511. That was the number on the missile Soap told me about when his team found the first missile in Al Mazrah.

"What was your intention on sending missiles to my land?" I remembered Hassan asking Graves the night of his interrogation, the same question written on my scrap piece of paper. 

I began to start my research with the number on the missile, finding that I was able to track it by seeing its history of being assembled in Alabama at the MFC (Lockhead Martin Missiles and Fire Control), which is where most American missiles are manufactured, seeing that it was then transported to Arlington, Virginia, coincidentally along with two other missiles out of Texas, which is also where Graves called home. After that, I was able to track a shipment from Virginia all the way to Urzikstan without the proper stops and checkpoints required for transporting missiles overseas. This was off the books.

A Black Bag Operation.

Conducted by Commander Graves and approved by General Shepherd.

Oh, I've got you now, motherfucker.

I quickly dialed Kate's phone from my burner phone, a smart move considering anything could be tracked nowadays. "Kate, how are you?"

She sighed, "Better than how I was. What've you got for me?"

"I started with the number on the missile Sergeant MacTavish found with the team in Al Mazrah. I traced it back from Alabama where it was made and sent to Virginia before it was transported out overseas. Never once made a mandatory stop at checkpoints."

"Any names?"

"Yeah. Conducted by Graves and approved by Shepherd."

"I'm going to do some digging. I'm due back to the Pentagon tomorrow morning."

"Okay. We also found and interrogated a sicaria posing as El Sin Nombre. I'm going to link up with Graves and see what he was able to find out all while gathering intel on my own."

"Okay, Kiera. Report back to me with what you can find out." 

"I will. Stay safe out there." 

"Always. You too." 

I locked my laptop and put it away along with my notebook before deciding to take a shower, eager to rid my skin of the thin sheen of sweat that consumed the top layer of my skin.

Relieved and relaxed, I left my hair down over my shoulders after I had changed into a new set of attire that were designed to keep me cooler in the Mexican climate, strapping a thigh holster against me just in case.

Until we gathered additional intel, the Task Force, me, and Mexican Special Forces were on rest for the remainder of the day. Most took advantage by taking longer showers, having fun on utility vehicles to explore the desert, or engaging in P.T. As for me, I found myself on top of a hill that was mainly used for a lookout, but I found myself enjoying the isolation and take advantage by listening to my favorite playlist, cracking open a can of Dr. Pepper, and taking a few drags from my vape pen as I gazed over the landscape Mexico had to offer. The live version of Kate McCannon by Colter Wall played lowly from my phone's playlist, drowning out the silence that surrounded me.

The strong chords and low voice reminded me of Wyoming, and I wished I was home – far better than where I currently was.

"Interesting music taste." A voice startled me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Ghost – standing there as if I had taken his lookout spot.

"It's real music if that's what you're asking." I smirked.

"You say so," He shrugged. "Never heard it."

"Not surprised. Didn't think music like this would exist in the U.K. You're missing out," I teased. "You look like you're here to take a post. I'll get out of your way—"

"No need. I usually come up here to do the same thing you're doing," He cut me off. "Care for some company?"

"You didn't seem the type to like company."

"It usually doesn't bother me. Unless it's Soap, then I like being alone." He shook his head, taking a seat close by before removing his balaclava from his head, running his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh.

This man was beautiful, and I wondered why he chose to conceal his identity. He had deep brown eyes with dark blonde hair and light stubble with a build that I couldn't help but get butterflies over. He was a prime example of a military man, and my stomach twisted into a knot when I realized that his sleeve concealed an arm full of tattoos on his left arm.

I couldn't help but take another hit from my vape pen when I watched him roll up the sleeves of his ACU jacket, desperate to rid my mind of realization that this man was insanely attractive, and I knew I would have no chance.

"How'd he acquire a callsign like that?" I asked him.

"I really don't know. To be honest, I'm afraid to ask."

I chuckled, "why's that?"

"You know what they say about don't drop the soap. He strikes me as the one who has, and it just stuck."

"Great, now I can't look at him another way even if he does eventually tell me why he chose Soap as his callsign." I shook my head, taking another drag before I offered it to him. "Want a hit?"

He shook his head, "I'm alright. I don't smoke unless I'm anxious."

"If you're anxious, it must be serious, because I've been anxious ever since I've been here." I giggled.

"You'd be surprised," He huffed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What you said about Graves a couple days ago. Why'd you say it?" He asked, his tone of blunt curiosity, which surprised me. I haven't known this man long, but I did know that he was a reserved, observant type, and if something intrigued him enough to ask a question that he knew he probably shouldn't, he was genuinely curious.

"I'm afraid it's classified information, Lieutenant."

"Okay."

We caught each other's gaze, looking into the other's eyes for a few seconds, seeing that he was genuinely wondering what I was doing here if I wasn't a part of the Task Force or Special Forces. He knew I had worked alongside his Captain before, yet we had never met prior to our assignment. He knew I worked closely with Kate, and he seemed to be trying to put together the pieces as to who I was. Not for intel, but his own curiosity, perhaps interest. I felt like I could trust him, but I've learned a long time ago to not trust anyone fully, especially a man, and that was of no fault of his own, but it's unfortunate that a few bad encounters I've had with men aside from enemy forces had ruined that for me.

"I'm here for the same reason you are, following orders."

"Fair enough."

A moment of silence fell between us, and I was oblivious to how much I relaxed while in his presence. He was mysterious and intimidating, yet I felt the safest when around him. I felt the world seem to fade around me when I was with him, and I knew that I was thinking too far and giddy from the excitement of having an attraction to someone.

I couldn't help but hum along to the next song that played from my playlist, Zach Bryan's song Dawns featuring Maggie Rogers. "It just dawned on me, life is as fleeting as the passin' dawn..." I thought that my humming was low enough to keep him from hearing the words I was singing along to, but I guess I wasn't as oblivious as I thought.

"I take it you like to sing, yeah?" He asked.

I couldn't help but smile. It was a genuine smile that appeared very briefly throughout my life – a smile that was innocent and vulnerable when all I was used to was being dominant and intimidating. "I do, but I'm not a professional or anything. Just a talent that I occupy my time with."

"Any favorites?"

"Any song I like is a favorite," I chuckled. "I mumble just about anything."

"You've got to have a favorite that you can't help but sing every time you hear it, no matter where you are."

"Eh, you'll think it's silly."

"Try me."

"You know that movie with Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga?"

"Who? I don't really watch a lot of movies, love. Don't have the time."

"Do you even know who they are?"

"No."

"Well, they're in a movie together called A Star is Born. There's a song in that movie called Always Remember Us This Way, and I've loved it ever since I heard it. It's one of my favorite movies."

"I'm assuming it's a love story type of movie?" He guessed.

"Yeah, not surprising, huh?" I laughed. "I've always loved that song, but it was catchy with no meaning behind it for me. Never had a reason to sing it and actually enjoy it."

"Why?"

I never expected to hear him ask that question when I figured he'd just drop it and not pry, so I was caught off guard and surprised that he wanted to know.

"Stupid reason. Had a man who I thought loved me, but I wasn't good enough, I guess. I caught him cheating on me, and when I confronted him about it, he got defensive and tried to gaslight me into making me think I was crazy."

"You shouldn't let that affect what you love to do."

"Easier said than done, Lieutenant—"

"Simon." He corrected, his tone sounding of regret after correcting me. I saw how tense he was, letting down a wall of his own because he wanted me to know. I showed him a smile of vulnerability, something that I rarely ever did because of my own trauma and past experiences as I didn't want to give him a chance to take advantage of me, yet he gave me his name when it was obvious he went by Ghost for a reason.

He was being vulnerable with me, even if it was just an ounce of it.

"Simon." I repeated, a faint smile spreading on my face.

"Simon Riley." He choked out. Another ounce of vulnerability. I finally knew this man's name, sharing the same information that possibly very few people knew.

"Kiera Dutton."

"Strong name." He complimented, unaware that I was able to realize that he forced out the compliment as it was something new and rare for him, obvious that it wasn't common for him to express a compliment to anyone besides saying "good work" or "nice shot."

"Thank you. You need a strong name for living in Wyoming," I giggled, easing the tension before looking down at my watch. "Well, I gotta get back to the base. I asked Alejandro to sit down with me for a briefing before turning in for the night." As I went to get up, a rock that had shifted under my foot caused me to lose my balance, and Simon didn't hesitate to reach his arm out and prevent me from falling on my back, but he was a second too late. I laughed as I embraced my embarrassment, accepting his offer of helping me to my feet to keep me from falling again.

"Clumsy today, yeah?" He teased me, keeping a firm grip on my bicep until I was stable on my own two feet.

"I sat for too long, and my leg is still hurting from that terrifying cliff jump, ya know. My leg fell asleep and did me dirty."

"That wasn't even a far fall."

"I beg to differ!" I scoffed. "That was a first-class ticket straight to hell if I had to name it!"

"You must've not jumped out of planes before, then."

"Believe it or not, I have. I felt safer because I had a parachute, but when we jumped off of that cliff? I had to rely on positivity and luck not to hit a jagged rock."

"Fair enough."

"Here," I said, handing him my iPod I kept as a spare just in case I broke my phone. "Listen to all of my good music that you're missing out on. You won't regret it." I giggled.

"I might."

"You never know. Might find a song you like."

»»-------¤-------««

For the rest of the day, Kiera and I haven't seen each other since we split off from the lookout post. I got a good look at her face in the golden hour of a Mexican sunset, and she didn't fail to make my breath hitch. She was so bloody gorgeous, and only having the interaction from earlier and not being close to her since we separated, it was a bloody tease.

I had gone off to bed early, taking the advantage of a day off to get much-needed sleep, but my body was against me as I suffered through usual insomnia. Kiera's iPod was sitting next to me on my cot, yet I hadn't even listened to any of her music that she suggested. In fact, I didn't even touch it because I didn't want to drain her battery, but perhaps she had a song on her music list that could possibly help me fall asleep. I never had a particular taste in music, listening to a random song on the radio while I was back home in Manchester.

Deciding to give this iPod a try, I held it above my head, pressing the button and seeing that her background wallpaper was a family photo – all on horseback with a rugged mountain backdrop behind them. She must have a perfect life.

I knew I shouldn't have tapped on her photo album, not wanting to invade her privacy, but I figured it was harmless curiosity as well as keeping my embarrassment of having to ask her more questions about her personal life. I figured that I could get to know her better this way. I was horrible with communication and self-esteem, and I knew that trait was what ruined my former relationships, my most recent being a lass named Sarah. We had been broken up for a couple of years now, but we were both toxic for each other. It started off as a mutual no-strings-attached type of relationship and had a few night stands before I started developing feelings for her. The first couple of months were perfect until I had to go off for a deployment. She didn't like that, but I didn't care. She knew from day one about my work but couldn't handle the fact that I would be gone. She ended up getting more than "clingy." It was borderline stalker behavior – always around my flat, asking my friends where I was and when I'd be coming home, and even reaching out to my own Captain and asking him to release me.

It was bloody ridiculous, and I wasn't having it anymore.

By the time I eventually came back, she was suffocating to be around. I tried to make it work – tried to understand her behavior, but it wasn't working. She didn't understand that I needed my space after coming home to decompress from the violence and carnage I participated in. It got to a point where I would take longer showers just to have time to myself because she wouldn't leave me alone.

I tried not to fault her for it or consider her crazy, because she wasn't. She was just insecure – too insecure with herself to not leave me alone in fear of losing me.

It was a mistake, and I never should've pursued a relationship when I knew that there was a possibility that it wouldn't work or that she would lose me.

And now here I was, wishing that something could end up working between me and Kiera because I had a strong interest in her. I didn't intend on a one-night stand with her or a no-strings-attached sort of relationship. I could see myself with her, and that was a ridiculous thought considering I haven't known her for more than a week, and perhaps I was so lonely and lovesick that I saw an opportunity with every woman I came across.

I ended up tapping on the photo album, seeing many various photos of her personal life that I had no business looking into, seeing photos of different horses, dogs, her and her parents, food, and landscapes – no personal photos (or selfies as younger people call it) or anything inappropriate. She was classy and full of life outside of the military, and I grew attracted to her even more.

Especially when I didn't see any evidence of a relationship waiting for her back home.

I had no problem attracting women, but impressing one that I really had an interest in was a severe skill I lacked.

My favorite photo of her was a portrait of her with a palomino horse, her eyes sparkling with happiness and peace with her long hair blowing with a breeze. I wished I could print it off and keep it to just look at when I was wanting to look at her, but I guess looking at it was enough.

After I had looked through every photo, I eventually tapped on her music app, seeing various playlists with a lot of songs within them. There was a playlist titled 'Daily', which contained the obvious, I guess. Another was titled 'outlaw country', and the last was titled 'foreign.'

I curiously went through every one, seeing a lot of songs from a band named Rammstein. I had heard their music before, but I barely understood German, so I never listened to them on my own free will. One of my comrades listened to Rammstein and Eisbrecher while doing P.T. when we were in Austria for a mission years ago.

I'd be lying if I said Bestrafe mich wasn't a good song.

I didn't know what it meant, and it could've been about worshipping Satan for all I knew, but I liked the sound of the song.

Her 'daily' playlist consisted of various different genres and different artists like Bon Jovi, George Straight, Alice Cooper, Nickelback, Johnny Cash, and Slipknot. I didn't find any song that I was curious about listening to, so I found my way to the 'outlaw country' playlist, and I was happy with my decision when I found one of the songs she had been listening to while we were sitting at the lookout post.

Within that playlist was a lad named Colter Wall, and he had some pretty good music he put out, The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie being my favorite one so far.

I wasn't even aware that I was falling asleep, until my eyes shot open at the sound of muffled singing coming from Kiera's room. My cot was right against the wall, and coincidentally, the wall was the only thing separating us from laying alongside each other. She wasn't trying to sing loud – just something to occupy her mind. If I had to guess, she wasn't realizing how good her voice sounded even if she was singing at a low tone.

"That Arizona sky; burnin' in your eyes; you look at me and babe, I wanna catch on fire; it's buried in my soul; like California gold; you found the light in me that I couldn't find..."

I felt bad for curling my finger against the wall, delivering a soft knock to the drywall before I heard her immediately stop, likely out of embarrassment, but I wanted her to keep going.

Dammit, Riley, if you would've just stayed quiet, she would've sung for you! Bloody idiot!

It was when she knocked back that I knew she wasn't embarrassed, but she still didn't continue singing when she knew I'd be listening.

Instead, I knocked back. 

[amagi2000]

Todd: Hello. Operator. Listen to me -- I can’t speak very loud. This is an emergency. I’m a passenger on a United flight to San Francisco. We have a situation here. Our plane has been hijacked. Can you understand me?

Lisa: (exhaling a deep breath to herself) I understand. Can the hijackers see you talking on the phone?

Todd: No.

Lisa: Can you tell me how many hijackers are on the plane?

Todd: There are three that we know of.

Lisa: Can you see any weapons? What kind of weapons do they have?

Todd: Yes. They don’t have guns. They have knives – they took over the plane with knives.

Lisa: Do you mean -- like steak knives?

Todd: No, these are razor knives -- like box cutters.

Lisa: Can you tell what country these people are from?

Todd: No -- I don’t know. They sound like they’re from the mid-east.

Lisa: Have they said what they want?

Todd: Someone announced from the cockpit that there was a bomb on board. He said he was the captain and to stay in our seats and stay quiet.

He said that they were meeting these men’s demands and returning to the airport. It was very broken English, and...I’m telling you...it sounded fake!

Lisa: Ok sir, please give me your name.

Todd: My name is Todd Beamer.

Lisa: Ok Todd, my name is Lisa. Do you know your flight number? If you can’t remember, it’s on your ticket.

Todd: It’s United Flight 93.

Lisa: Now Todd, can you try to tell me exactly what happened?

Todd: Two of the hijackers were sitting in first class near the cockpit. A third one was sitting near the back of the coach section. The two up front got into the cockpit somehow; there was shouting. The third hijacker said he had a bomb. It looks like a bomb. He’s got it tied to his waist with a red belt of some kind.

Lisa: So is the door to the cockpit open?

Todd: No, the hijackers shut it behind them.

Lisa: Has anyone been injured?

Todd: Yes, they…they killed one passenger sitting in first class. There’s been lots of shouting. We don’t know if the pilots are dead or alive. A flight attendant told me that the pilot and copilot had been forced from the cockpit and may have been wounded.

Lisa: Where is the 3rd hijacker now Todd?

Todd: He’s near the back of the plane. They forced most of the passengers into first class. There are fourteen of us here in the back. Five are flight attendants. He hasn’t noticed that I slipped into this pantry to get the phone. The guy with the bomb ordered us to sit on the floor in the rear of the plane...oh Jesus...HELP!

Lisa: Todd, are you ok? Tell me what’s happening!

Todd: Hello. We’re going down. I think we’re going to crash. Wait – wait a minute. No, we’re leveling off...we’re ok. I think we may be turning around. That’s it – we changed directions. Do you hear me? We’re flying east again.

Lisa: Ok Todd, what’s going on with the other passengers?

Todd: Everyone is really scared. A few passengers with cell phones have made calls to relatives. A guy, Jeremy, was talking to his wife just before the hijacking started. She told him that hijackers had crashed two planes into the World Trade Center. Lisa is that true??

Lisa: Todd, I have to tell you the truth. It’s very bad. The World Trade Center is gone. Both of the towers have been destroyed.

Todd: Oh God -- help us!

Lisa: A third plane was taken over by terrorists. It crashed into the Pentagon in Washington DC. Our country is under attack, and I’m afraid that your plane may be part of their plan.

Todd: Oh dear God. Dear God... Lisa, will you do something for me?

Lisa: I’ll try if I can. Yes.

Todd: I want you to call my wife and my kids for me and tell them what’s happened. Promise me you’ll call..

Lisa: I promise – I’ll call.

Todd: Our home number is XXX-XXX-1073. You have the same name as my wife. Lisa. We’ve been married for 10 years. She’s pregnant with our 3rd child. Tell her that I love her (choking up) I’ll always love her..(clearing throat) We have two boys. David, he’s 3 and Andrew, he’s 1. Tell them (choking) tell them that their daddy loves them and that he is so proud of them. (clearing throat again) Our baby is due January 12th. I saw an ultra sound. It was great. We still don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy ... ... ... Lisa?

Lisa: (barely able to speak) I’ll tell them, I promise Todd.

Todd: I’m going back to the group -- if I can get back I will...

Lisa: Todd, leave this line open...are you still there?

Lisa: (dials the phone) Hello, FBI, my name is Lisa Jefferson, I’m a telephone supervisor for GTE. I need to report a terrorist hijacking of a United Airlines Flight 93...Yes I’ll hold.

Goodwin: Hello, this is Agent Goodwin. I understand you have a hijacking situation?

Lisa: Yes sir, I’ve been talking with a passenger, a Todd Beamer, on Flight 93 who managed to get to an air phone unnoticed.

Goodwin: Where did this flight originate, and what was its destination?

Lisa: The flight left Newark New Jersey at 8 A.M. departing for San Francisco. The hijackers took over the plane shortly after takeoff, and several minutes later the plane changed course -- it is now flying east.

Goodwin: Ms. Jefferson, I need to talk to someone aboard that plane. Can you get me thru to the planes phone?

Lisa: I still have that line open sir, I can patch you through on a conference call. Hold a mo...

Todd: Hello Lisa, Lisa are you there?

Lisa: Yes, I’m here. Todd, I made a call to the FBI, Agent Goodwin is on the line and will be talking to you as well.

Todd: The others all know that this isn’t your normal hijacking. Jeremy called his wife again on his cell phone. She told him more about the World Trade Center and all.

Goodwin: Hello Todd. This is Agent Goodwin with the FBI. We have been monitoring your flight. Your plane is on a course for Washington, DC. These terrorists sent two planes into the World Trade Center and one plane into the Pentagon. Our best guess is that they plan to fly your plane into either the White House or the United States Capital Building.

Todd: I understand. Hold on...I’ll...I’ll be back..

Lisa: Mr. Goodwin, how much time do they have before they get to Washington?

Goodwin: Not long ma’am. They changed course over Cleveland; they’re approaching Pittsburgh now. Washington may be twenty minutes away.

Todd: (breathing a little heavier) The plane seems to be changing directions just a little. It’s getting pretty rough up here. The plane is flying real erratic. We’re not going to make it out of here. Listen to me. I want you to hear this. I have talked with the others -- we have decided we would not be pawns in these hijackers suicidal plot.

Lisa: Todd, what are you going to do?

Todd: We’ve hatched a plan. Four of us are going to rush the hijacker with the bomb. After we take him out, we’ll break into the cockpit. A stewardess is getting some boiling water to throw on the hijackers at the controls. We’ll get them and we’ll take them out. Lisa, will you do one last thing for me?

Lisa: Yes. What is it?

Todd: Would you pray with me?

They pray

Todd: (softer) God help me...Jesus help me...(clears throat and louder)

Todd: Are you guys ready?

Todd Morgan Beamer: Let’s Roll...

(H/T: Salena Zito)

[suite-purgatory-a-hh-what-if]

The Overlords in my rewrite

For the first lore dump of my AU is the Overlords!!! :D

So I will be going through a few details in this AU, Discussing a short overview of what the Overlords are, how many are there (as of season 1/ maybe season 2), what are some up and upcoming overlords, what areas they control and what are their respected… well overlord titles.

What Are Overlords?

Simply put, in hell the Overlords are Powerful sinner demons in hell/Pride ring, who have managed to control or grow their Powers/abilities and can make contracts to sinners when their power has been at their absolute peak. They also run districts/territories in Pentagram City That they claim by going into brawls and turf battles after every extermination to get more open land for themselves and to spread their businesses.

How many are there?

There used to be over 500 overlords over the past centuries but most of them have either:

A: died due to being stuck outside for extermination day and killed by an exorcist.

B: Killed with Angelic Weapon Slivers by either Sinners/Hellborn/Others.

C: Or had their Souls being drained(A trait that only Alastor can do)

How can you tell when someone is a overlord?

One simple detail to tell if someone is an overlord is with their sclera, Red sclera is one hell of a tale-tell sign that someone is an overlord some examples of some overlords with the sclera:

However, there are a couple of overlords with some exceptions to these rules (Zelestial, who is the main head of hell archival history, overwatches the current overlords and has to report to Lucifer around 4-12 times a year about their duties to make sure they're staying in line and oversees their districts. And Rosie a Cannibal overlord who owns a small county like town in Pentagram City called Cannibal District)

((No pictures of these two overlords yet.))

How many are there in total(As of the story's current set)?

Simply put there's a total current of 13 overlords(with only two half overlords those being Carmilla's adopted daughters) While mentioned earlier there were hundreds in the past but as of now most sinners in hell(or well those who have their souls not in a contract) aren’t patient enough to develop their powers to try and become overlords and there are those who are too afraid to defeat an overlord to even try.

As of now here a small list of the current amount of overlords:

Zelestial: The overlord who is also a right-hand sinner demon of Lucifer

Carmilla Carmine: The overlord of Ironworks, she created and distributes iron all over Pride and the other rings, she also hosts a bi-yearly underground weapons auction event that tends to sell weapons that cannot just kill sinners but also higher-ranked demons, although Zelestial tends to keep those meetings out of his reports…

VeeCorp: VeeCorp is a conglomerate of three overlords who have Vs in their names and they tend to run the media of Pride

Vox: He is the overlord of television, he runs at least 80% of all television channels and sells his tech products also used to have some sort of beef with another overlord in the past by the name of Alastor.

Valentino: He well, the overlord of pornography in the pride district, runs all types of pornography films and runs a few successful brothels in Pentagon City; as of right now he is very furious over the actions of a certain star in his contracts, one who goes by the name of Angel dust.

Lastly Velvette: Is the Social Media overlord, She is what Vox and Val consider the backbone of the trio itself; she posts pictures on social media, participates in trends, and participates in interviews hosted by Voxnews, and she is even working on her cosmetic brand, while people may think shes the weakest due to her powers not being all that stronger compared to her two male companions… it's her brain that is her true power.

Lastly as of now there Alastor: The radio demon, is considered to be one of the most deadly overlords due to going on a draining spree 8 decades ago draining and surpassing many overlords and becoming more powerful(he is only 4th strongest He’s behind in order Zelestial, Carmilla Carmine, and Vox) he also continues to host a radio show where he use to broadcast screams of all kinds of victims of his in the past. Lately, he's been MIA in the past 7 years with people thinking he had been either killed by Vox, or an extermination angel but now he's back and working for Lucifers wacky princess daughter

Wannabe Overlords:

Wannabe overlords are a simple definition they are sinner who are slowly growing their powers but are not yet overlords; and example of one of these is a spunky died around the 80’s explosive maianc who goes by the name Cherri Bomb, wannabe overlods tend to have a mix of their normal sclera(which is either yellow, green or lilac) being faded away with the red coming in. (example shown with cherri bomb) As for the current number their are many wannabes but an estimate as of now is around 50-100

(Right here is an example of what your eye would kinda look like if your a wannabe overlord)

What would happen if someone were to overpower/kill an Overlord?

If you were successful in Killing an Overlord; then you simply get the Overlord's area and of course all the resources they have(like Money for example). Soul contracts wouldn't be one of them; If an overlord were to die their soul contracts would be set free.

What areas do some of these overlords run:

Nearly every single overlord tends to run a certain area of pentagram,(The map here will show only a few select areas where overlords live and where their work is located ((map will be updated in the future)))

(Some more info will be updated In The future.