#''You know you're going to get a zero on that.''

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Game that's a dating sim/time management style game, but you don't date anyone (or at least if you do, dating isn't the point). The premise is that you've gotten a new entry level job in your dream career in a town that's WAY too expensive for you to live in with zero available rentals, but due to a stroke of amazing luck and a distant family connection, you're able to score a rental in a nice community for a price you can just about handle. The catch is that you have to join the homeowner's association. Your landlord is distant, but expects you to keep in line with the HOA or get evicted.

The game consists of carefully managing your out-of-work time to keep up with the HOA's increasingly stringent list of rules about the appearance and maintenance of your property. If you don't spend enough time on yardwork and maintenance, you'll start to get violation warnings, but you also need to go to community events to avoid getting on the other members' shitlists and making enemies who'll look more critically at your property. You can buy leeway if you spend time schmoozing the other HOA people, helping them with crises, and siding with the more powerful figures in disputes. Your dream career is a background event in your life, focused more on keeping a roof over your head, but if you skip work to tend to HOA stuff you risk getting fired, and conversely if you put in extra hours and do really well you can get bonuses which you can use to pay a professional gardener or housekeeper and free up some more time. The power dynamic in the HOA can change, so be careful putting all your eggs in one basket relationship-wise lest your friends be on the outs and your enemies start looking for ways to get rid of you. But if you change your alleigances too often, you'll get a reputation as a fair weather friend, which can be equally dangerous. Getting too close to someone who ends up in a scandal could tarr you with an equally scandalous reputation, but you won't know what scandals are going on in the neighbourhood . Getting evicted or fired are both, of course, loss conditions, but showing up for work and [honing it in isn't too hard; you've always wanted to work at... uh... whatever it is that you're doing again. Never mind that. The most important thing in your life is making sure that the grass in the front lawn doesn't grow more than half an inch above the prescribed length.

[chongoblog]

HOW TO READ BINARY MESSAGES

Hey there all you gamers out there! Have you ever seen a bunch of ones and zeroes in a television show and wondered "Huh. I wonder if this binary here is some sort of Secret Code?" and instead of googling it, you wanted to try to figure it out yourself? Well I know how to do that, and people always go "WHOA" when I tell them that, and I figured I would teach you all as well!

Now just a warning ahead of time, translating binary yourself will take some time and require a little bit of math, so don't say I didn't warn you.

So let's take a binary string like this frame from the Gravity Falls episode "Soos and The Real Girl" (which, spoilers, IS a secret message)

So the first thing you're gonna want to do is divide the binary into groups of 8. If it is a secret message, then each group of 8 bits will represent as ASCII value (or, for the sake of this explanation, letters). So let's divide them up.

That gives us: 01010011, 01010000, 01000001, 01000011, 01000101, 01001010, 01000001, 01001101, 01010100, 01010111, and 01001111. Now, you might have noticed that all of these binary strings have something in common. They all start with "010"! That's gonna be your first tell that you've got a secret message on your hands. Every letter in ASCII starts with either 010 or 011 for lowercase letters. So if you see the groups don't start with either of those, then it's just random gibberish binary that someone just keysmashed 1 and 0 for. So now we know we have a message, so we can begin translating. And to show off how that works, we're going to translate the first set together!

The way binary works is that each digit from the right to the left represents a power of 2. The farthest right digit represents 1. The second to last digit represents 2. The third to last digit is 4. Then 8. Then 16. When reading more complex binary stuff, you go further than that, but for reading ASCII letters, we only use 5 digits. For each of those digits, if the digit is 1, then you add the value that the digit represents. If it's 0, then you don't. From there, you add up the numbers you've got, and then run the sum through the handy dandy a1z26 cipher (A = 1, B = 2, C = 3, and so on)

So again, let's have a look at that first string: 01010011

And there you go! Now you just need to repeat this for every letter! It sounds harrowing at first, but over time you get the hang of it to the point where you can do it in your head. Feel free to give is a shot yourself and decode the rest of the message from the Gravity Falls episode

Now obviously there are a few exceptions. For example if you have a number or punctuation it will start with "001", and from there translating a number from 0 to 9 is easy since it's the same thing but without the A1Z26 cipher, but with punctuation you have to remember specific values, which is a pain in the ass, but if you're translating a decoded message, you don't really need to know the punctuation.

And that should do it! Hope you enjoyed this little explanation.

[vampiresbloodx]

warnings(18+ ONLY): smut, sub!reader, Dom!Wanda, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, teasing, blow jobs (on strap), spitting, slight praise, more degradation, rough s/x, strap on use, all of it is consensual, petnames use (good girl, baby).

emo!gf!Wanda uses you however she pleases and you gladly let her.

The first time she got a taste of you, she was obsessed. No, that wasn't a joke. No one has ever seen her been like this before about anyone. You bring out a completely different side to her than not even her best friend could know about.

Wanda claimed she didn't like girls, she always told herself she wasn't a lesbian and denied any rumours surrounding that.

It wasn't that she was ashamed, she didn't give zero fucks about their opinions. Maybe a little. That's what she was known for, her no bullshit attitude, the resting bitch face, someone to not fuck with.

Then she met you.

The cute adorable nerd who's too shy for their own good.

Wanda wanted to have you all to herself, and she did.

No one was allowed to touch you, flirt with you, go as far as to ask you out.

She would kill them.

Only you'd have to stop her from even putting them in the hospital.

Even if you were left alone for a few hours, minutes, seconds, if someone tried to come at you, she would randomly pop up out of nowhere scaring the hell out of them.

But not you.

She liked that.

She really liked you.

What she liked most was making you come as many times as she wanted. How you squirm under her gaze and touch, just one look and you're begging on your knees, it drives her insane. She has to use you.

You gladly accept it. Because you know she likes you. That's all you wanted.

You've had a crush on her for as long as you can remember, and you weren't the type to crush on people easily. Sure, they'd come, but they would never last that long.

And yet with Wanda, you knew you'd do anything she asked. She was the prettiest girl you've ever met, you just wanted her attention, her everything.

Wanda knew that too.

And she used it to her advantage.

"aw, is my pretty baby already soaking wet?" She cooed, slipping her fingers inside of your tight hole, moaning when she feels your walls clench around her. "Fucking hell, I've never fucked anyone who's pussy was just dripping, begging to be touched."

You whined, bucking your hips into her but she forced them down, glaring at you.

"now, you know I'm gonna have my way with you, I'll let you come once I know you've behaved well, don't move" she demanded.

Your body shuddered, somehow you listened, you always did.

There were times where you liked being a brat, getting the worst out of her was fun, however, this time you really didn't want to mess around.

"good girl" she cooed gently, her voice sending a shiver down your spine, she didn't waste anytime, nor did she back down with starting slow and easy, practically splitting you open with her fingers hard enough that'll make you cry.

Wanda smiled wickedly, watching your every move and reaction, your mouth gaped open, your eyes never leaving hers, fuck, it drove her wild.

"aw, does someone wanna come?" She teased, slowing her movements. "Hmm, it seems this pretty pussy is ready for my cock, don't you think?" She said, loving the way your eyes widened, pupils dilated at the sound of that.

She pulled her pants down, releasing her long, lengthy strap that she kept hidden to surprise you. It was one of her favourites she brought online. A cute, pink dildo that reminded her of you.

It's just too precious.

"spit on it" she muttered, watching as you did as she ordered, once she was pleased enough, Wanda's hands came up to your head, you eagerly wrapped your mouth over her fake dick, she groaned.

"good girl, sucking my cock so well" she moaned. "God, you're my personal fucktoy, aren't you?, my flesh light, you like that, don't you?."

She heard you whimper, causing her to smirk.

"do a good enough job and maybe I'll reward you with something else."

[wordsarelife]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: you agree to theo’s ask, on your on terms, and the tension continues to rise

warnings: height difference mentioned, i have zero idea how to play a guitar or how hard certain songs are to play so just act like anything i say is the truth haha

notes: i really love them so much! i haven’t been inspired by writing in such a long time! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

you had wiped away the tears as soon as you had walked out of the hospital, straightening your back and thinking about which direction would be smarter to walk in.

you would come home no matter what, this small town was basically a circle, it was just the question of which way would be faster. you weren't keen on walking longer than necessary.

"forgot the way home?" a voice beside you made your head turn.

"what do you want?" you asked annoyed as you saw theo walk closer to you "i'm leaving, okay? you don't have to try to get rid of me anymore"

"pixie, i didn't mean it like that" he sighed and tried to touch your arm, but you turned your body away from him.

"i know exactly how you meant that" you protested "and i don't know what you still want now. you won, okay? you won ages ago, but you're the one who always picks a fight"

"pixie" theo muttered and you could hear the regret in his voice.

"don't call me that"

"y/n" he said and you looked up in surprise. you couldn't remember when your name had last left his mouth. "i'm sorry"

you raised your eyebrows. "you're sorry?" you repeated, almost laughing. "i don't think i ever heard you say that before"

you wanted to go home, so you just decided on a random direction and started walking, to your luck, theo was following you.

"okay, get to the point, nott" you demanded "what do you want from me?"

theo sighed once again, understanding that there was no way he could trick you into agreeing, he just had to ask. "i need your help, i mean, we need your help"

"you need my help?" you repeated skeptically. "is that one of your awful pranks again?"

"no" theo shook his head. "i promise it's not"

"okay, then lets hear what you need"

"enzo can't play the concert"

"i know as much"

"yeah, sorry" theo brushed a hand through his hair, unsure how he should ask you.

"there is that word again" you pointed a finger to his face. he gently pushed your hand away. "i could get used to this"

"yeah, don't flatter yourself" theo mumbled aggravated.

"there he is" you laughed sarcastically.

"we need a guitarist" theo came straight to the point "april says you play.." he paused, unsure how to finish his sentence "good"

"you want me to play guitar for you?"

"not for me" theo tried to rephrase it "for the band, the boys"

"why should i do that?"

"i know you hate me, pixie. but you don't hate them, do you?" he almost sounded like he was pleading.

"thanks to you i'm not really friends with them anymore, theo" you remarked bitterly "they were my friends just as much as yours and they still sided with you"

"it's my fault, okay?" theo said helplessly "is it that what you want to hear? that i was childish enough to poison your relationships?"

"that's just it, theo" you shook your head "i don't want to hear anything from you anymore, but you keep on talking, keep on writing songs. why can't you let go of things?"

"you know i need to write to cope"

"yeah, i know" you nodded your head "but anytime i hear one of your stupid songs it physically hurts. you might be able to cope through your writing, but i will never be able to do that"

"it's one song, pixie" theo rolled his eyes.

"so you admit that you wrote pixie dream girl about me?"

"that's not the point" theo argued.

"oh, yes it is" you laughed, while you quickened your steps, so theo had it harder to keep up with you, even if he was taller.

"okay, fine" theo sighed "pixie dream girl is about you"

"i know" you smiled "what about daddy issues?"

theo send you a painful look, almost as if you were torturing him with your question.

"do you want me to play guitar or not?"

"daddy issues is about you too" he finally muttered.

"thank you. now, was that so hard?"

theo send you a look. “will you help us?”

"i'll think about it" you patted theo's shoulder, before you continued walking away. he thankfully caught the hint and stayed where he was.

"not too long" he called behind you and you just raised your hand, showing him your middle finger.

theo ran into april when he walked back to enzo's room.

"you're leaving already?" he asked surprised.

"yeah" april shrugged "i want to look after y/n and enzo's coming out this evening, i'll come back to his then"

"okay"

"what did she say?"

"she'll think about it"

"she didn't say no?" april wondered and theo shook his head "huh, i thought she would, after everything.." she shook her head, as if to get rid of that thought "you should feel lucky, theo"

"i do" he quickly nodded. "see you, april"

"bye, theo"

you were staring at the ceiling as the sudden sound of the door made you look up.

"hey" april smiled, as she closed your door behind her "your mum let me in"

"did she get up for once" you nodded with fake impress.

"y/n" april sighed and you could hear the pity in her voice.

"don't" you shook your head and effectively shut her up "how's enzo? how much longer does he have to stay in the hospital?"

"he's coming home tonight" she let herself fall on the chair in the corner of your room. "maybe you want to come and visit him with me later?"

"after everything that happened today? i'll pass, but thank you"

"enzo promised that it'll be just him and mattheo"

you sighed "i'll think about it"

"i really see no reason why you and the rest of the boys just can't stay friends, y/n"

"theo is the reason we can't" you noted "i think it's better for all of us if we keep a distance between us"

"that's gonna be hard if you play for his band"

you sighed deeply "you're in on this too?"

"actually it was enzo's and my idea" she admitted as she looked anywhere but you "you're the only one who is as good as him and you're able to play most of the notes"

"yeah" you sank back down "but i don't know if i really want to. i mean theo is still theo, he can try to be nice all he wants, but he will never get out of his skin"

"the rest of the boys will make sure that he behaves himself" april promised "mattheo told me himself"

"mattheo told me the same today and you know how it ended"

"sometimes you two are a real mystery to me" she muttered "you know each other so well, well enough to know which buttons to push. he can make you cry with only a few words, it's scary"

"you said it" you pointed your hand in her direction "he never knows when it's enough"

"and you do?" she laughed "you're just as bad as him. you should've seen the look in his eyes as soon as you left the room. it's like you both can't be with or without the other"

"i don't know what you're talking about" you shook your head.

"you always say that you just want him to stop speaking to you, but i can see how much you enjoy these discussions, even if you're just fighting. you missed him and this is the only way you can spend time with him"

"that's not true, april"

"yes it is, sweetheart" april said softly "why don't you just tell him that you miss being his friend? everything could just go back to normal, if just one of you makes the first step"

"it's not as easy" you argued "too much happened, things you don't know, things i can't speak about. it's too late to rekindle anything"

"y/n, if it's about le-"

"please just let it go"

"okay" she nodded, accepting your wish "but what are you going to do? will you help them?"

"yes" you nodded "i mean the rest of the boys didn't do anything, right? and i don't want to poision your and enzo's relationship before it even began"

april smiled while her cheeks turned bright red "i hate you" she laughed and you just shrugged, before you stood up from the bed and took the blog, writing a message for theo.

i'll do it. but only under certain conditions. mattheo will receive the list later

"happy?" you asked april, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"yes" she giggled "now let's sort out your conditions"

it didn't take you long to come up with the things that had to change for you to start helping them. april had, surprisingly, a few ideas herself, (april is allowed to watch the rehearsals), making your list three points long.

you accompanied her later to visit enzo, which was, admittedly, a bit unnecessary considering she had already visited him in the hospital, but it seemed like both her and enzo deemed it important for his survival.

luckily, april had been right. it had only been enzo and mattheo. they both were smiling widely as you told them that you would help. enzo promised you to be there for every rehearsal (let alone because april would be) to help you learn the songs the way he played them.

mattheo seemed to enjoy the way you were nicer to him when theo wasn't around. you had always liked him, he was easy to get along with, but the last year you had learned not to enjoy his teasing and joking personality. you apologized for the day before, realizing that you had been quite harsh and that he really thought you would find the song funny.

maybe you would’ve had, but a lot had changed and mattheo understood that you couldn't find humour in it right now.

they promised to show your list to the rest of the band and tell you in school how and when rehearsals would start.

april and you left after two hours and you could tell she was beaming. in her opinion, playing in the band meant that all of you would be friends again and the hope alone was enough for her.

"here it is" mattheo held the folded piece of paper in theo's direction.

"be honest, mate" theo said "is it manageable?"

"it is" enzo said. he was sitting on the stone wall in the middle of draco and blaise. mattheo was standing next to theo in front of them.

"okay" theo sighed, before he unfolded the paper. "y/n's conditions under which she will safe theo's petty little-" he held the paper in mattheo's direction "i'm not reading this"

mattheo giggled, before he cleared his throat as soon as theo send him a look. "y/n's conditions under which she will safe theo's petty little-"

"you can skip the beginning" theo interrupted "just get to the point"

"fine" mattheo rolled his eyes "rule one: april is allowed to watch the rehearsals"

"yeah, fine, whatever" theo nodded, while enzo was practically jumping up and down. "anyone has a problem with that?" the three other shook their heads and mattheo continued reading.

"rule two: theo is civil”

“can you do that?” enzo wanted to know and theo nodded reluctantly.

“okay and the final rule: we can’t play pixie dream girl”

“sounds alright” blaise shrugged.

“what do you say theo?” draco asked as he noticed the priors facial expression.

“we can’t do the third one” theo explained between clenched teeth.

“what?” enzo asked “why not?”

“when i talked to mr fraser on the phone i showed it to him and he made me promise that it’s one of the tracks we play”

“okay” mattheo shrugged “then you just call him and tell him that we can’t play it”

“he said it’s important that we play it because it’ll impress his boss. we got many streams on the song and it’ll make us stand out against the other bands”

“fuck” draco jumped from the stone wall. “can’t you find a way to play?”

“yeah” enzo shrugged "i'll just play with my feet, no problem, draco”

“let’s all calm down” blaise said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"it's seems important to her that we don't play the song" enzo remarked.

"yeah" mattheo muttered.

"okay, what if we just not tell her? i mean six weeks is a long time, maybe she'll say yes when we ask her later?" blaise suggested.

"that might not be the worst idea" mattheo nodded "maybe if we'll be able to be friends again, she might play the song"

"it's worth a try, right?" draco asked in theo's direction.

"i don't know" enzo shook his head "she will absolutely hate us when she finds out we lied to her. she'll feel betrayed"

"it's just a song" draco crossed his arms "what's her problem?"

"i am" theo shrugged "and the song reminds her of that. fuck" he groaned.

"what do we do, boss?" mattheo asked "do we lie to her? she might understand it once we tell her it was our only chance"

"i tell her we accept her rules" theo nodded as he gripped the paper from mattheo "not one word from any of you, you hear me? this is our only chance to get that stupid record deal and if it means to work with the enemy we will do that"

"the enemy" mattheo rolled his eyes "you're getting dramatic again, theodore"

"you know what i mean"

before anyone could agree to his terms, april and you walked up behind the boys.

"hey" april greeted and immediately stepped into the emptys space next to enzo where draco had sat.

"hi" you said, a lot less happy "how does it look?"

"we accept your rules" theo nodded "rehearsals are every tuesday, thursday and saturday at five. we have to rehearse a lot if we want that record deal"

"great" you nodded "how much time will we have on stage?"

"fourty-five minutes" theo answered "i'd say we try to rehearse all ten songs before we decide on those that we want to play"

"not including pixie dream girl, right?"

"right" he nodded.

"great" you smiled "then we have a deal" you held your hand in his direction, so you could finalize everything with a handshake.

"yes" theo nodded "do you have a guitar or do you need enzo's?"

"i have one" you nodded, before you excused yourself, so you would be on time for your first class of the day.

the next time that you saw all of them was during the first official rehearsal on saturday. you had spent the entire friday searching for old notes forba few of the songs that you still owned somewhere. theo had given you the missing ones when you had stood in front of his door in the evening and you had tried to play as much as possible and it was admittedly not working bad.

"hey" you greeted the boys when april and you walked into the garage. april slumped down on the couch next to enzo as if someone had held a gun in her direction and you looked between draco and blaise. "where should i stand?"

blaise directed you to the empty space next to the microphone stand.

"where are matt and theo?" april asked and you perked up. you would have rather died than asked yourself, but you were still wondering.

"they're on their way" draco answered "mattheo made a few cds to hand out to people and they are getting them right now"

"cool" april nodded impressed.

"you're only now making cds?" you asked surprised "isn't that like one of the first things bands normally do?”

"generally, yeah" enzo nodded "but in a time like this, most people only listen on streaming platforms so we never really saw the need for it"

"now that we're getting more known, it's more professional" blaise added.

"okay" you nodded "i get it"

"bonjourno" mattheo waved as soon as him and theo entered the room a few minutes later.

"french?" enzo wondered.

"that's italian, sweetheart" you could hear april mutter next to him. you giggled into your hand as you noticed the lovesick look enzo was now sending in her direction.

"you're so smart, april"

"are you ready?" theo asked you, once he took his stance behind the microphone.

"sure" you shrugged, before you took the guitar and plugged it in.

"we'll start with blood//water. the notes should be relatively easy to play"

theo counted and pointed in your direction as soon as it was time for the guitar part to set in. just shortly after, theo began singing. you of course had heard him sing before. you had listened to the songs, but you had never heard him so clear, so raw.

we'll never get free lamb to the slaughter what you gon' do when there's blood in the water? the price of your greed is your son and your daughter what you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

you switched your fingers, picking up the pace of the melody as soon as the pre-chorus set in again. mattheo was changing between playing the bass and clapping his hands. draco was making quick movements on the keyboard, changing the setting to let it make different sound effects and blaise was hitting the drums so hard, your ears almost blew off.

but despite all that you could only focus on theo and the sound of his voice. the way it looked so effortless and hard at the same time. as the pre-chorus ended and the chorus set in, he was full on screaming into the microphone, the veins on his neck showing the strength his voice was using.

i am the people, i am the storm i am the riot, i am the swarm when the last tree's fallen the animal can't hide money won't solve it what's your alibi? what's your alibi? what's your alibi?

when there's blood in the water

when the song ended, april began to clap. "that was amazing!" she complimented "blood//water is my favorite song on the album"

"thank you" mattheo smiled "you were really great, y/n"

"thanks" you nodded "i think this one is one of the easier chord compressions"

"the next song would be daddy issues" theo looked in your direction expectingly.

"do we have to play that one?" you asked "i mean it's so slow and you won't probably play it anyway"

"she has a point" mattheo shrugged.

"i think we should play all the songs" theo argued "so that we can change the setlist until the last minute"

"good point" blaise nodded.

"come on, guys" enzo, who saw the discomfort on your face added "y/n is right, it's way too slow"

"boss?" mattheo looked to theo.

"we should at least play it this once" you sighed as you noticed that theo wasn't going to budge.

"okay" mattheo nodded "you ready? i think the chords are quite easy for this one too"

you were looking straight across the room, but nodded at his words.

theo counted again and you started playing the chords on the paper in front of you. maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought. you would just have to concentrate and blend out theo as much as possible.

take you like a drug i taste you on my tongue

theo's voice almost made you shiver. you moved your fingers along the guitar.

and you might have to tell me again it's crazy what you'll do for a friend

you had listened to the song about a million times after it had come out, but now it was like you were hearing it for the first time. and the softness in theo's voice was going to break your heart, you were sure.

you didn't know if the rest of the boys knew the song was about. you were guessing that only enzo was slowly getting the idea, as he was the only one who had noticed how uncomfortable you had gotten once theo mentioned it.

you doubted that the others new. theo wasn't one to run around and tell everyone what the meaning behind his songs were. you were sure they knew only half the things theo knew and you were glad for that.

go ahead and cry, little girl nobody does it like you do i know how much it matters to you i know that you got daddy issues

you thought back to days in the backyard of your house. how theo came climbing up into the treehouse and would just sit next to you for hours.

when you felt brave you would cry in his lap, but sometimes you weren't able to and theo understood you in a way that no one else did.

he had brushed your hair aside, whispering about the future, wonderland, something that did not sound like it could be real, at least not to you.

he told stories about a world in which your dad was better. a world in which he loved you as much as you loved him, as much as he loved-

go ahead and cry, little boy you know that your daddy did too you know what your mama went through you gotta let it out soon, just let it out

maybe there had been a time where he hadn't planned to use that song against you. a time where he wanted to show it to you so it could console you and your pain. now it just felt like ammunition in an ongoing war.

you were still staring at the wall across from you as a few tears slipped over your cheeks.

and if you were my little girl i'd do whatever I could do i'd run away and hide with you i know that you got daddy issues

you took off the guitar as soon as the song had ended, breathing a shaky breath. "could we take a break?" you asked theo, who, if you weren't mistaken, looked a bit guilty now that he saw the look on your face.

"sure" mattheo answered, while theo continued to stare at you. "are you alright?" he touched your shoulder and it took everything in you not to start full on crying at the gentleness in his voice.

"let's sit down" draco sighed.

"do you want to see the cd?" mattheo smiled and you nodded as you quickly wiped over your eyes.

he held it in your direction and you smiled as you recognized the cover that they had used on spotify. "it looks amazing"

"turn it around" mattheo advised and you did as you were told.

your breath hitched as you saw the photo on the back.

theo cleared his throat at the lack of reaction from you "that's"

"leo" you finished "i know" your fingers gently moved over the boys back. you recognized the white shirt, the black trousers and the bracelet on his left arm. you were wearing a matching one.

"the photo is from last year" mattheo explained "from when theo and leo wrote most of the songs. i thought it would be the perfect one to show who we are"

"it is" you nodded "thank you" you looked up at mattheo and he gulped as he noticed the tears in your eyes. you held the cd in his direction before you stood up. "i need a breath of fresh air"

you walked out of the garage and sat down on the bench in front of the lake. you sat there for ten minutes before you decided it was time to return back inside. 

mattheo had told his friends to settle down and end the rehearsal for today, much to theo's dismay, who basically tried to kill you with his eyes when you came back inside. 

"i don't get why we have to stop" theo muttered "we only got through two songs. what got your knickers in a twist, huh?" he turned his head to look at you, but instead of rushing away, you returned his angry look. 

"you" you said with a roll of your eyes "the rule was to be civil and you're acting like an idiot, theodore" 

theo laughed at that and you were even more angry. 

"fuck you, mr rockstar" you held up your middle finger. 

"i'd love to see you try, miss stuck up" 

you looked at april betrayed when you heard her giggle. 

"even your friend agrees with me" your head snapped to the side. 

you stepped closer to the boy, until you were only a few centimeters apart. the others watched you with big eyes. "do you want to repeat that, darling?"

you could see theo gulp at the proximity, before he quickly caught himself and smirked down at you. "are you trying to kiss me, baby?" 

"no, but seems like you are thinking about kissing me, sweetheart"

mattheo sighed loudly and both you and theo turned your heads, only realizing now that you were the center of attention. 

"that was kinda hot" blaise muttered under his breath and was immediately elbowed by draco, who did not take his eyes off of theo and you. 

"shut up" theo said quickly and you had the sudden need to defend blaise, just because it would get a rise out of theo. 

"seems like your friend agrees with me" you crossed your arms and smiled provocatively "you totally have the hots for me" 

"i hate you"

"finally something we can agree on" you grinned, before you turned around and grabbed your bag. "bye" 

the rest of the group said goodbye while they were still astounished at how you had basically won a fight against theo. 

"oh shut up" theo said quickly, when you had left the room and blaise opened his mouth. 

taglist:

@7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101

[maxknightley]

hey man listen, im sure you just didnt know because hes just a funny haha tweets guy but dril is literally an outspoken nazi on twitter and has made mulitple tweets with nazi dogwhistles and literally responded to someone going "its not a joke, i fucking hate jews". like theres screenshots and posts and stuff about it out there and im sure you could dig through his twit. none of my posts about this ever get picked up because no one wants to admit the internet funnyman is a bad guy but hes like. a literal actual nazi. take that as you will

disclaimer for my followers: do not start shit with this person. I swear to fucking god. be cool.

not to be rude but I looked this up:

on twitter's website, where I found nothing;

on twitter's mobile app, where I also found nothing;

on DuckDuckGo, where I found nothing except the "(((keebler elves)))" tweet, which I think you could reasonably argue was in poor taste but hardly seems like a sincere endorsement of fascist beliefs;

and on Google, where I again found nothing except the "(((keebler elves)))" tweet and people talking about the keebler elves tweet

so, like, with all due respect I think you're either misremembering something / conflating him with someone else, or someone is fucking with you. I'm genuinely not sure what else this could be referring to, other than his recent slew of tweets mocking the nation-state of Israel, which - speaking as an antizionist Jew - I think are good and funny

the main reason I'm posting a response to this ask at all is because I get asks like this a lot. like, every couple months at this point. but usually they're not about dril, who 1. barely uses this website and barely ever has, and 2. has bigger things to worry about! usually they're about Some Trans Woman who I may never have even fucking heard of. I've gotten asks calling latina trans women "white" and accusing them of being turbo-racist because they Disagreed With Someone One Time. I've gotten asks trying to convince me that a woman I've never spoken to is a sexual predator based on literally zero evidence of any kind. and it gets fucking tiresome. okay? it's really, really fucking tiresome

so I figure I'll post this one because it's illustrative, and because it won't stir up shit around someone who might actually get hurt by it. please stop doing this. please stop sending me completely unsupported asks about how such-and-such is a terrible person.

at the bare fucking minimum send me actual concrete Posts that I can look at, because then I can actually judge for myself whether it's something worth getting upset about. otherwise there's basically a 10% chance I look into it, find nothing tangible, and shrug, and a 90% chance it goes straight into the trash.

[bbodiless]

PERMANENT DAMAGE

content. 18+ blog mdni, slightly toxic relationship, smoking, random bonus scene at the end, sexual content, workaholic reader, toxic geto, pussy eating, stress relief, rough sex, daddy kink, etc.

a/n. this is not me trying to romanticize toxic relationships, if you do not like this content then scrolllll :3

you work from home most days in your apartment in NYC. you have a mostly bland, average life for a woman in her twenties who lives in such a populated city. but recently, or in the past three months, you've been hooking up with your best friends brother, geto. the only 'few' issues is that he has a girlfriend, he's a bit toxic, and you can't get enough of him.

you sit in your work chair, that chic, spinny chair that your new 'friends' said you NEEDED to have. all your friends are these new influencers while you're stuck in your tiny apartment, working an at-home office job. you feel behind. but luckily, you have a relationship! or something... you type away on your laptop, importing spreadsheets for your boss. but suddenly, your phone makes a ping! sound and you break your gaze from the laptop.

Geto: Open up.

before you can even reply to his message, there's a banging at your door that's almost violent. it startles you out of your chair and you rush to the door. standing on your tiptoes, you reach for the top lock and unlock the door before twisting the knob and opening it to reveal your beloved, geto.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" you hiss. he's standing there with his face looking more beautiful than ever, like he just got out of bed but in the most sexy, sultry way ever; hair slightly messy in that half-up-half-down hairstyle, eyes half lidded as he looks down at you with an amused expression.

"'hey there, sexy' to you too." those are the only words you get before he nonchalantly uncrosses his arms and walks inside past you. you're left there for a moment, dumbfounded, as he steps in your apartment with zero explanation of why he's there. you break out of your dumbfounded haze and close the door, turning around to face him, looking furious.

"i know it's sudden, but i needed to see you, princess," he says, his voice soft and sultry. he steps forward, arms extended out before you swat them away. "geto you can't keep showing up so... unexpectedly! i could've been with someone!" you explain with frustration. he arches a brow and smirks.

"with someone? like who? those girls you call your 'friends'?" he asks with a mocking tone. your brow furrows with annoyance. "puh-lease, geto! just go away! you always try to do this shit!" he steps back and sits on your sofa, arms outstretched on the back with his legs crossed lazily. he leans forward, elbows on his knees. "c'mere."

he smiles as you hesitantly step towards him. "oh c'mon don't be so shy, it's just me," he says. "why don't you let me help you relax? i can tell you've been working all day, sweetheart." his hand reaches up and brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face, his expression soft with awe. he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling you down to sit on his lap.

you sit as he guided and somehow his mouth is moving slowly yet urgently against yours as his hands tangle in your hair. your pussy aches to be taken care of. you slowly drag your hips back and forth against his clad crotch, creating an undeniably good friction that sends shockwaves to both of your cores.

he groans into your mouth, turning you on even more as his tongue dances with yours. he pulls away for a moment as you kiss, looking at your flushed face and slightly disheveled hair before his mouth latches onto yours again. one of his hands begins guiding your hips against his, now you're moaning into his hollow mouth, only being filled by your tongue.

he pulls away again, pulling you back gently by your hair. "let me make you feel better." then you're on your back on the couch, he's spreading your legs and kneeling down. he pulls down your shorts and panties and his eyes stare with lust at your sopping cunt. he smirks and presses kisses from your inner knee down to your cunt, exactly where you want his mouth.

his tongue massages your clit softly, making you mewl. he's so talented with his tongue, it's like he's playing a gentle tune with it. he purses his lips and sucks on your sensitive bundle of your nerves. his tongue then suddenly slips into your slick hole, tongue-fucking you and thrusting it back in forth, his long tongue hitting your G-spot.

you writhe and grip the fabric of the couch, thighs shaking with pleasure as he feasts upon your womanhood. and right before you can cum, he stops. he pats your thigh softly, making you open them back up shakily. his hands fiddle with his pant belt. finally getting it off, he tosses it to the floor and unzips his pants.

his thick, girthy length is presented to your eyes and your breath hitches. you've never been hornier for any other man. geto positions himself at that dripping cunt and pushes in slowly with a long groan. "fuuuck... so goddamn tight."

he thrusts back and forth, head thrown back with pleasure. sex with him has never been gentle, never been soft and sweet. and that wasn't about to change this time. he slowly increased his pace, his cockhead brushing against your G-spot with every stroke. he kept kissing your womb with his tip, it leaking precum inside you.

those gummy walls are what he swears suck him in and never let him go until he cums inside you.

he reaches forward and tugs on your hair roughly as he thrusts sharply into you, harder than before. "hnghh- getoouuu..!" you mewl, eyes glossy with lust and pain. your pretty little lashes are wet with salty tears from how good his thick cock feels while it fucks you relentlessly.

"goddamn, y/n... feels so fuckin' good in here. like heaven."

he suddenly pulls out, making you whine in response. he flips you over onto your hands and knees and spreads your folds with his fingers before ramming his cock into your cunt again. he leans over you, hands regripping your hair and yanking your head back so your eyes meet. his other hand comes down on your ass, slapping it harshly. he chuckles darkly when you wince at the impact.

"you wan' cum?" he says, his voice dripping with a wanton tone. you try to nod eagerly but it comes out tightly due to your head being restrained. "beg for it, like a good girl should." you're so embarrassed, unsure if he's joking. you do it anyway. "please, daddy. please let me cum..." you say shyly. he slaps your ass harshly again. "that's my good girl."

he thrusts one last time into you and suddenly your womb is filled with a thick, sticky substance. your back arches deeply and you feel a sense of euphoria. your body goes limp underneath him, both of you collapsing on the couch.

. . .

after getting dressed, you both head out to your balcony while you wear his shirt and he remains shirtless, only wearing his pants. you share a cigarette with him, sitting in silence as you watch the city lights flash and gleam in your eyes.

[bixbythemartian]

Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, but I've seen posts about this get passed around. And it's probably too late to push back on this, anyway, but I'm so frustrated I feel the need to say to say something. This is coming from a place of love- I just hate seeing this going around, and I want to offer some perspective on the matter.

First of all, regarding that poll where the user did not know how to pronounce 'Miette'- if you look in the replies, it doesn't take long to discover that the OP was genuinely confused about the pronunciation and, when corrected, was working to get it right. That poll came from a place of innocent ignorance. I hope the OP took it down and stopped reblogs and turned notes off or whatever, because some people said some awful shit. I hope you are the kind of person who is kind and understanding, in the face of such ignorance. Or, if you can't be that, I hope you can at the very least be quiet. (And props to the people in the replies who patiently and kindly explained things to the OP.)

Second of all, I've seen a lot of posts talking about literacy rates, and I'd like to point out that English literacy has very little to do with figuring how to pronounce a French fucking word, goddamn. The OP just didn't know. The dunking, the pointing, the laughing- rude, unnecessary, not helpful.

Thirdly, in response to the complaints of 'they don't even teach phonics in schools these days'- that's bullshit. Because the odds are very good that they didn't teach phonics in schools when you went to school, either.

When I was a kid, it was called Whole Language. It was the new hot literacy technique, and a lot of schools adopted it. It used cueing techniques and sight words and was very similar.

If you're a millennial, you might remember the commercials for Hooked on Phonics, and you might conclude that teaching phonics in schools was perhaps not common, if you think about that for a bit. If it was worth it to sell a whole reading tutoring program for struggling readers based in phonics, perhaps it might lead one to conclude that phonics weren't as common as other methods, right? You might not have been taught phonics to start. What you do know about phonics, you might have picked up in the past 20-30 years, right?

Okay. Lets go back further, you know Dick and Jane? It was based on, more or less, the same sight words principle, and those primers date from the 1930s, although I don't think that teaching technique came really into vogue until the 40s.

If you are alive, today, in the United States, the likelihood that you were not taught phonics in school is well above non-zero. Especially if you're a millennial.

The notable exception is the 1970s. And during that period of time, there were probably plenty of schools that still used fucking Dick and Jane. And plenty of schools that were starting to adopt Whole Language, because while it was popular in the 80's and 90's, it was developed before. So, Gen X, you didn't get out of this unscathed either, though you had a better chance of getting a phonics-based reading program, I think.

'Kids these days' are not less literate because they were taught wrong. A great deal of us who are alive and speak English as a first language were taught wrong.

(I also think this is the common way English as a Second Language is taught and I'm sorry if you learned sight words, it's so much less intuitive than phonics, and English phonics aren't particularly intuitive. But I know a lot less about this, and I'm not sure.)

The reason some younger people struggle with language and words that I, for example, don't, is that I've been reading and speaking the language a lot longer. That's it. That's likely the same thing for you.

Please quit mocking people for their lack of information, for a start. I don't blame you for not knowing this about the literacy programs, for example. I had to do a lot of research on this. Right? Odds are good, you didn't know this.

And you are hitting people who struggle with literacy for other reasons- English as a second language, for example. The people who deal with dyslexia, there's plenty of autistic people who struggle to communicate fluently in their first language, and many more people who struggle with learning, speaking, and otherwise communicating in English for a huge variety of reasons.

Even if you're right, you're hitting people who had no choice in the language method they were taught from. They were five.

I don't think people mean to be unkind, generally (some do, but we block and move on), but it's really frustrating to a lot of snark circulate without the greater context of 'actually, a lot of English speakers of all age groups were taught English this way, especially USAmericans' and 'hey, what does English literacy have to do with pronouncing a French word, anyway?'

Okay? Okay.

Love you bye

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero

chapter 2

masterlist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost doesn't know what to do. He looks for Riley everywhere, with no results. He slowly loses his mind and does something he hasn't done for a long time… You wonder who and where Riley has been with all these years. How he found you? Why is he wearing that weird vest? And above all, where is the person who put it on him?

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I didn't expect so many comments, likes… everything… Thank you for this, it motivates me a lot.

Unfortunately, what everyone probably expects doesn't happen in this chapter… or maybe it does?^^

I plan to add new chapter once a week. However, I have more free time this week, so I will add the next part in a few days.

Chapter 2: The one with(out) Riley

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Day 730

You & Riley

It had to be Riley.

Of all the things you dreamed of all those lonely nights. About family, friends. Everything you've been longing for. You missed him the most. For your beloved dog. I t wasn't like the other family members were important to you. You just knew and pretty quickly came to terms with the thought that you wouldn't see them again.

It was difficult, hard. However, the realization of the unpleasant truth and mourning in such strange and new lonely conditions passed. The loss of the dog was unexpected and sudden. And knowing from day one that many animals somehow survived. Somewhere deep in your heart you felt that Riley was just there. And eventually, one way or another, you will be together again. But you thought it would happen after you died.

Not now. And not like that.

The dog was so happy to see you that he jumped at you with his front paws, trying to put them on your shoulders, but he was so excited and exhausted that he hit you with full force, pushing you. You hit the ground with a loud thud, crushed by the mass of the dog who was now licking every inch of your body, clothed or not. It didn't matter to him at all.

"Oh my god Riley...stop it, oh fuck" as you try to get out of the weight you don't know if you're in pain or if you're happy or shocked.

You're going through a million emotions. Many thoughts are running through your head. You have so many questions. So much confusion.

"Riley, man, calm down... I know, I know..."

You're trying to say something and at the same time get rid of the dog that has gained a lot of weight after these two years. Not only was he handsome, but he looked like a decent dog. Adult, mature. After many attempts, you finally manage to sit down, the dog seems to let go for a moment, panting loudly and sticking out his tongue. You look at each other as if each of you wanted to express and tell you everything that happened and what you felt during these months of separation.

Riley still had that incredible wisdom in his eyes, something that made him seem so human. This was one of the features that made him easy to recognize. The second thing was the fact that, unfortunately, before he came to you, when he was a puppy he lost part of his left ear. That's why as soon as you saw an animal running towards you, in a split second you knew it was him.

It was something so incredible, even impossible.

And you remember your mother's words the day the puppy showed up at the door of your family home 

"Fucking miracle"

Scratching Riley's ear, you shook your head in amusement and whispered, barely audible

"Yes Mommy, you were right… as always. He's a miracle."

Now you were just curious about the person who had kept Riley alive for so long and kept him in such great shape.

Slowly standing up, brushing off the dust from your clothes and wiping your cheeks, which were wet with dog saliva. You looked around the area, not seeing another living creature.

“Riley, who did you come with? Where is this person?”

You asked the companion next to you, grabbing your backpack and slowly walking in the direction the dog came from. However, the wounds on your feet from the long walk were so painful that you had to give up after walking a few steps.

“So, I guess we'll have to wait here for this mysterious Ghost?”

Walking towards a small building that was probably an energy building. Hoping that there will be a working power supply with electricity inside. which the tower still works and sends a signal, from time to time you looked with a smile at the dog which was glued to your leg and was following along with you.

For the first time in a long time, you smiled.

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Day 731

You & Riley

Nothing, silence, emptiness.

As if the arrival of the dog didn't change much. And it changed practically everything. The world took on new colors for you, you felt that it was a signal, a sign. Whatever. Something refreshing that restored meaning to your life after such hopeless and miserable, long and lonely months.

And somewhere deep inside you believed that someone would eventually show up. And after many hours of sitting in a dingy little building next to the tower, you lose hope again. Maybe Riley's arrival was everything you deserved in this new life.

When trying to get more comfortable on a concrete floor, you need to be careful with your dog. With every movement you make, even the smallest one, Riley raises his head and looks at you. He gets closer if you move your body away from his just the slightest. As if he was afraid that you would disappear from his sight again.

The night and half of the day passed. No one came at noon.

Like the mysterious Ghost, sleep never came.

“Darling, I'm so tired... everything hurts,” you say quietly, stroking the animal's fur with your hand.

 “Riley, I think we should wait a little longer, maybe one more day?” You look towards your backpack. Unfortunately, all the supplies you had packed were slowly running out. Your water supply would last for another day. Maybe if you saved more for the next two days. You had food for two or three days. However, you didn't expect before that you would have to count all the food and water for two.

It wasn't a problem. At all.

“Oh boy… you don't know how glad I am that you're here with me,” you muttered, placing your hand on the dog's body, finally falling asleep.

And the last thought was that in two years you haven't said as many words as today.

And it wasn't a problem. At all.

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Day 730

Ghost

Ghost felt like he was slowly losing his mind. That he's about to go crazy. Since all this happened, this whole cataclysm, the apocalypse. The end of the world... Everyone could call it whatever they wanted. That damn Day Zero. The man was able to organize himself in all this chaos, pursue his goals, plan and live. From day one, everything made sense, meaning, some direction for him.

Planning, patterns, predictability. Sticking to the schedule, drill.

His years in the army prepared him for this. It was in his blood.

So now that there had been no sign of Riley for over 24 hours, the only living being for whom he got up and went to sleep every day, it all made no sense. His life had no meaning.

Yesterday when he left the fucking house with a pillow in his hand that he took for the dog. In terror, he ran around the area shouting the dog's name, hoping that it would appear soon. Ghost was under the illusion that Riley would run around  the corner with some prey in his mouth. Wagging his tail happily.

Nothing like that happened.

Ghost, in his madness, destroyed several objects he encountered on his way. Screaming loudly and cursing. This couldn't be true. Something bad must have happened. The dog had been clinging to Ghost continuously for 2 years. Even when he taught him to hunt or search in new unknown locations, the dog was able to return to the man.

Why wasn't he there now?

Ghost finally went home after many hours of frantic searching. All the time he was wondering what else he should do to make his friend come back to him.

When he finally reached a safe place and parked the car, he looked around the area, hoping Riley had found his way home, and stuck his tongue out, wagging his tail. That the dog would be sitting outside the house, waiting for Ghost.

Unfortunately, to the man's horror, there was no sign of any presence.

Ghost felt under his skin that if he was left alone, he would lose ground. And his entire planned, arranged life will collapse day by day like a house of cards.

The house seemed unusually quiet and empty. Even though every space, every corner, cabinet, shelf and floor was filled with objects that the man had collected for two years. Supplies, clothes, items needed for survival. He was proud of how easily and quickly he adapted to the new challenge. How he was able to find himself alone, without other people.

This was another difficult and important mission for him.

I'm sitting in a chair at a large oak desk. He converted the room into an office where he kept maps, important documents and books. Ghost leaned back in the leather chair and closed his eyes.

He was afraid of this moment. Yes, he expected that one day he would be alone again. That he would have to say goodbye to his best companion. However, a German Shepherd should live up to 13 years. Maybe Riley would have lived another year or two in good health. Ghost was ready for this terrible situation. But that was to happen in the future. Someday, when they're both ready. In many years. In at least 9-10 years. That was the plan. That was the assumption.

And now Ghost was staring at the blank white ceiling, feeling like his world had collapsed once again.

The first was the death of his family.

The second time was when his teammate died.

Third… no, no, no. This couldn't happen again.

"No!" the man growled loudly, getting up from his chair and hurrying towards the room that was now the large pantry.

He must have had something strong to drink. Bloody hell. He had to drink that fucking brandy.

It's been a long 730 days since Ghost last dipped his lips in alcohol. Two years of sobriety.

And a drunk lieutenant meant something very dangerous. 

Pure madness. 

If someone showed up at Ghost's door now. The person should step back and leave without hesitation. And never come back. For your own safety. Your pathetic life.

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Day 732

Walking towards the city in the morning, with your dog by your side, you felt as if the world smiled at you and let you go back to your happy years. When you were younger and Riley was just a few months old puppy. This is exactly what your mornings looked like. You were walking along quiet streets somewhere on the outskirts of your city, enjoying the new, sunny day. You usually went to your favorite cafe and bakery, then went to the park with your dog. Lazy, ordinary mornings.

Unfortunately, now despite the idyllic landscape, peace and quiet, greening grasses and trees. Nothing else here was like back then.

Silence, deserted, ruined buildings.

Even though the world changed completely that day, the city looked remarkably good and clean, the main roads were passable, cars and other things on the road had been moved so that one lane was empty. You decided to go to the center and plan further walking there.

You entered several buildings and checked several vehicles.

Weird. All the more important and necessary things you could find in these places are gone. Medicines, canned goods. Batteries, clothes, shoes. The fuel from the car was drained, batteries, light bulbs and other things from the engine were removed.

The city looked like someone had definitely lived there after Day Zero. For a long time.

However, after a few hours of walking around empty streets, you decided to enter the last building where you expected to find at least a few drops of water. Even fermented, rotten food. Whatever.

“Riley, come on, one more place and we're going back to the tower, maybe Ghost will show up tomorrow?”

you lightly pulled the dog's leash. The dog was still sitting on its hind legs, looking in the opposite direction from which you had come.

You didn't have time to react.

Focused on the dog, you leaned down to give him the command again to finally move.

You didn't have time to do anything else.

Shot.

And the whistle of the bullet.

That's all you heard...

You didn't have time to do anything else.

taglist: @leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles

[cinnamonest]

Just an ask, what does heizou consider to be an almost successful escape attempt?? Was it the fact he can't follow your trail, or was it the fact he almost let you escape by boat to other Nation.

If you were already to escape a few time from him, then I assume the next time you got a chance to run away you probably already thingking of a master plan to not be found by him.

And knowing heizou with his tendency to show off his deduction skill and his past crime he able to solve, you probably learn bit by bit from that to cover your track from him. Maybe a bit misleading track here and there, while also going to a route that you never even think of going through before (place that is highly risky to be in, yet is probably heizou think a place you won't be setting foot in a million year's)

Well that is untill suddenly heizou stop you from getting in a boat, or when he actually find you in the sea of crowd. What would be his reaction, what is the punishment for your escape attempt (consider this one is one string away to being successful), what are the consequences of your escapes attempt.

(Also a just a question, I've been searching for that heizou fanfic of him as a step son, I think this is one of your fic, but I can't find it. Did you delete that or it was just buried by other fic?)

-anon R🎭

(Sorry anon, that fic is actually not mine! But if anyone else knows the fic anon is talking about, feel free to comment!)

---

To him, there’s no statute of limitations on the offense of running away.

Detectives never really give up on cases they can’t seem to solve — sometimes they put those cases on the proverbial back burner while they’re busy with newer ones, but detectives will sometimes spend their lives returning to the same case over and over, hoping to one day find a missing piece or see something from a new perspective.

Perhaps if you manage to escape long enough for him to truly never find you again, or if you manage to get him locked up, then you could say you’ve “successfully” escaped him… but as long as the opportunity to find you is anything less than zero, “success” would be too strong of a word for your evasion of him that will ultimately prove temporary.

He's self-aware enough, though, that he's one of a few that feels genuinely guilty when you try to run away. He knows deep down that keeping you locked up is no way for a person to live, that it's unfair to you, that you have every right to try and earn your freedom... but he can't allow it, he's long since accepted that he can't control the urges and no longer tries to hold himself back from following those urges.

So while he's mad, it's a quiet sort of anger. He doesn't say much, he just acts, ensuring he brings you back without a trace... he'll still talk to you once you're safe and sound back in his place.

He's exasperated and relieved, but admittedly, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit proud of himself for being able to find you after all, so the smugness does seep into his tone just a bit. You'll have to be kept restrained to the wall or bed frame from this point forward... but you have no right to complain, since it's your fault anyway.

[diejager]

I have been thinking about toxic dynamics with yan!König and I think that apathetic or unbothered reader is fun. It's based on the attachment theory and one of the dynamic include the anxious chaser and the apathetic avoidant who's being chased. KorTac operator!darling for the sake of another toxic cat and mouse game!

Hmmm maybe you're the first one to bond with him before Horangi, and you're doing it to satisfy your curiosity. You entertain the colonel, and you guys have a friendly relationship but to you, he's just another normal face in this life of yours. He's nice, but you feel zero spark nor passion in this friendship of yours. To König? You're his everything.

I think the yandere tendencies start to appear when he realizes that he's not a priority to you. Simply another face in the crowd although you never mistreated him. And since the reader is a problem too, reader doesn't see the value of investing time in the colonel, rather uses her time to invest on herself because poor colonel isn't a priority. Besides, he has Horangi and needs to learn the art of socializing.

Basically König overthinking everywhere and anywhere while reader's in her room doing her hobbies/taking care of herself, uncaring about the colonel.

You get bored easily, and need something to keep you grounded, keep you attached less you stumble into something people wouldn’t want you to with carelessly blunt words and an apathetic mind. Some have called you a psychopath, able to live a normal life, actively seeking gratification and fulfilling your ambitions despite the danger it brings; despite the pain it causes others; despite the lies and deception you use to achieve them.

Military was one of them. Some had normal, boring faces, whose minds were built like an intricately designed maze filled with possibilities and interesting things that made it worth pursuing, and others had beautifully scarred faces and unique traits, but were as boring as a wallflower, mundane and unchanging, normal and sane. All too boring for a curious mind like yours.

Then you met König, a giant with his face hidden - unknown - and fleeting moods that went from commandingly dominating and anxiously jumpy. You found him interesting, a nagging curiosity urging you to dig and unravel whatever curiosities he hid in that mind of his. He was an object of fascination to you, something you decided to invest your time into discovering, with lies and truths, promises and deceits, everything was a possibility as long as it served your goal.

The Colonel was a source of entertainment and power, but to him - as apathetic and cold as you were - you were a friend. Your little manipulation and charming words wormed it’s way into his mind the same way they did in your Ops, wielding a serpent’s silver tongue and the devil’s charm, you were something that he both admired and hated. It didn’t help that you acted the same around him, unbothered and unafraid —it made him feel normal.

So it’s not much of a surprised that he became obsessed with you, unwilling to part ways with you if he could, wanting to know you, your likes, your dislikes, your hobbies and your passions; and as long as he kept your interest going, this wouldn’t be the last of you he’d be seeing.

[ozarkthedog]

Hi Ozzie!! Congrats on 11k ❤️

Can I request 📝 & public no. 6 (a quickie in a diner restroom before getting back on the road), with Dieter?? 🥰

thank you so much, Gideon! idk what happened but i took this and ran. hope you love this, my dude!

18+ mdni. dieter bravo x f!reader. sex in a public bathroom. w.c. 783

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

It was supposed to be a quick stop: fuel up, grab a bite, and get back on the road. However, you knew to expect a blip in your plans when Dieter was your co-pilot. 

Today, though, the blip turned into 35 minutes behind schedule because someone wanted to play an old arcade game the owners had set up in the back of the small diner. 

You let Dieter have his fun while you drank your coffee and went over your route once more. He looked so cute playing the arcade game in his long, green robe. You never could part that man from his robe. "I like to be comfy at all times," you recall him saying when he sunk into the passenger seat at the beginning of your trip. 

When you couldn't waste any more time, you gave him a '5 more minutes' signal as you made your way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was what you expect in a local diner. Small but relatively clean, thankfully. As you finish washing your hands, Dieter frantically knocks on the door.

"Let me in," he whines.

He's already turning the knob as you unlock it. He shuts the door quickly and slithers into the tiny space. Your ass bumps into the sink as you make room for the broad man.

"What's wrong?" you ask, worry framing your words.

"Nothing. Just missed you." he smiles, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Dieter! You can't worry me like that." you chastised, poking his chest.

He plasters his thick body against your own, pushing you further into the porcelain sink. "Sorry, love. I just thought we could have a quick fuck before we got back in the car." he muses, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You roll your eyes, but they stop mid-way when he rubs his large bulge over your belly. "Shit, D." you look at the door and then back to those wild, wanting eyes. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and tips his head, looking at you under his lashes. "You know how quick I can be."

You huff with a laugh. "Okay, Mr. Quickie. Let's go," you happily prompt.

"Oh, that means you're Mrs. Quickie! " he muses, laughing until his cheer is struck down. His eyes zero in on your lower half as you hike up your skirt and tug your panties to the side.

"Well, what are you waiting for." you dare, propping your leg on the window sill and wrapping your hands around his neck for support.

Dieter goes a bit dumb when you and sex are involved. He usually relies on you to tell him what to do. The second you snap your command, he shoves his sleep pants down to his knees and takes his cock in his hand. 

He teases your already slick opening with his throbbing crown before slowly pushing into your searing core. He doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, and his girthy base nudges your clit. He bites the side of his cheek, wantonly moaning into the small space as your walls stretch around him. 

Your "magic pussy" as he likes to call it, is already working, teasing and tempting him to fill you up.

"Best be quiet, D. We don't need anyone interrupting us," you say, combing your fingers through his hair and slightly tugging.

A whimper bubbles up from his throat. You press a single finger to his pouted lips before branding him with a kiss. He sets a steady pace, angling his hips just right and grazing all those sensitive spots he knows that get you off the fastest.

His bulbous crown notches something profound and devastating, forcing your arousal to rise steadily until you're drowning in the salacious rapture. His brow pinches tight, furrowing with a heavy need to stave off his own pleasure until he feels you come on his cock.  

His bottom lip trembles. With a silent command, you thumb at the plush cushion and plummet off the edge together, holding one another's gaze. Hushed whimpers and labored breathing fill the room as you melt into one. 

You exit the bathroom first, praying that no one will notice Dieter leaving the tiny bathroom a few moments after you. You keep your eyes locked on the floor as you make a beeline for the main entry, casually looking over your shoulder to ensure Dieter is tailing you. 

He curls a weighty arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side as you push through the glass doors and walk out to your car together. 

"You know we're gonna have to make this a road trip ritual now, right?" he grins.

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

[clonerightsagenda]

Could you please recommend some sources or would you be able to give a summary on how swordfighting would work in spacesuits? I'm doing book research, am trying to figure out how it would differ and ended up browsing your space tags for facts.

Ok, first of all, I absolutely love that people are coming to me for weird space scenarios now. That being said, I don't know anything about swordfighting. So I will give you some thoughts from the space perspective, and perhaps some people with swordplay experience can chime in.

First of all, what's important to remember is that spacesuits are pressurized. They're not as pressurized as shuttles and stations, which means you have to breathe pure O2 or sit in a less pressurized airlock for a while so you don't get the bends on your spacewalk, but they're still somewhat pressurized. That makes it very hard to bend the joints. Spacewalking is a workout - many astronauts take Ibuprofen beforehand. It also wrecks your hands and nails - one astronaut even removed their nails before they could fall off. Finger dexterity goes way down. Your range of motion is limited, as is your field of vision - you've got your helmet visor, but good luck turning your head over your shoulder. It's also quite easy to overheat, and if you build up sweat and condensation in your visor, there's no way to clear it off.

Overall, I'll be honest - I struggle to see people successfully swordfighting in modern spacesuits. Visibility is bad. They're too stiff and clumsy. You'd lose your grip on the sword and it would go spinning into the void, and possibly you rip off some fingernails at the same time.

But fear not! Something that's been in the works for a while is what MIT calls the Biosuit. The idea here is a skintight compression garment that provides the same pressure as a traditional spacesuit but with less bulk and more mobility. It even looks a bit like fencing gear! If you're writing a book where space swordfighting is a thing, I'd say go with a spacefuture where they have suits like this. Preferably made out of fabric that's very resistant to slashing and stabbing. Even so, given the dangers of a suit rupture or getting knocked into the void, I'd think getting into a fight outside a ship or station would be an act of last resort.

Inside a pressurized station or vessel where you're not going to drop your sword and never see it again, blades make a lot more sense - you don't want to hit a gas line or ignite the atmosphere! Your biggest concern at that point would be the laws of motion. If you hit someone with force, you might go flying backward. I imagine that would change the kind of blocks and strikes you use, but again, I know nothing about swordplay. An entirely new school of zero G swordfighting might develop? There's some room to play around!

[tobereadindiapers-again]

The Nurse Pt 1.

You laid on the cold, hard hospital bed starring at the ceiling, trying your best to hold back your tears. Your tears were the final thing you felt you still had some control of, the final connection you felt you had to your masculinity, they fell despite your best effort. The diaper wrapped around your midsection warmed as you felt urine trickle over your now hairless balls and absorb in the soft damp padding under your cheeks, as if to confirm your masculinity was indeed a thing of the past.

You tried not to let the diagnosis replay itself in your head for the millionth time, but it seemed, as if with all things, that too was out of your control. "The surgery had some unexpected complications." "Fully incontinent" "adult briefs". You ventured a feel under your blanket. Hand running under the hospital gown to collide abruptly with smooth plastic. You ran your hand over the swollen bulge probing gingerly at the soft padding. It was so thick you could hardly feel your own dick through all of the padding. 

"Diapers", you thought, "I'm going to be stuck in diapers for the rest of my life." The tears came unabated now. 

There was a sudden knock at the door, and it creaked open. 

"Mr.... Mr. Smith?"

You quickly pulled your hand from under your sheets, and tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

You clear your throat and sit up with a sniffle. "Erhm, yes. Yes that's me."

You were dismayed to see the nurse that entered the room was some 5 years your junior, and absolutely beautiful. You could read on her face that your attempts to hide your emotions had been futile. She wore a mask of sadness and pity. 

"I'm sorry, do you... do you need a minute?" She asked, brushing her hair back anxiously with her fingers.

"No, no. I'm... I'm fine." You say trying to regain your composure. "What, what is it?"

"Well I'm here to ummm, well, to get you cleaned up."

"Oh..." you stammer, the reality of the situation donning on you. "No, there's no need for you to do that. I can manage it I'm sure."

"Yeah, um, I'm sure you can, but you see it's hospital policy I'm afraid. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I uh, well I do this all the time, haha." She chuckled the last part uncomfortably.

"What? Why is that hospital policy? I promise it's not an issue."

"Yes, I know I know. I wish that wasn't the case, but I'm sure you can understand, a lot of our other patients who have... recently started using protection, are much less capable of you, and well some of them get embarrassed as well. We, need to be certain that you're changed" she paused "that you have adequate protection until you are discharged from our care. It's a legal thing, I'm sure you understand, right? Plus! Looking at your chart it seems we're just holding you overnight for observation, so you'll be out of here and on your own by tomorrow morning! Isn't that good news?"

Tears once again stung the back of your eyes. "Please be quick." You affirmed with a crack in your voice. 

The nurse nodded curtly and started pulling on her nitrile gloves. From under your bed she produced a fresh folded diaper, a plastic tube of ointment, a large plastic bottle, and a package of wipes. 'So much equipment' you thought. So much is needed for me just to use the bathroom now.' She placed all of it beside you and stopped.

"I'm Sarah" she said.

"Matt." You replied looking away.

"Nice to meet you Matt. I'm sorry that this is happening to you. But you should know you're not alone. I see patients everyday that need to wear protection. I know it seems like the end of the world right now, but I promise in the grand scheme of things it's really not that bad."

You nod quietly, afraid to speak for fear of loosing your cool, and crying through your first diaper change as an 'adult'. You knew she was lying. How many diapers did she ever change on a 30 year old man? ZERO. That was your bet.

"Now, I understand this is your first time wearing a brief?"

"Diaper" you thought, lips pursed tightly. She didn't continue. Finally you nodded.

"Right, well, with you being discharged tomorrow I'm going to show you some things ok. I promise I'm a real pro."

With that she unfolded the tightly packed diaper and crumpled it back and forth in her hands, as if to advertise: this is how loud and noticeable the diaper will be.

"We call this floofing. It breaks up the material so it's softer and more absorbent." She explained. "Now," she pulled your hospital sheet off of you and began to pull up your gown.

Reflexively you grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away.

"Mr... Matt, please. I promise it's nothing I haven't seen. I'm trying to 'be quick' remember?"

You release your grip on the soft smooth skin of her forearm and let your hand fall. Suddenly ashamed and embarrassed at your outburst. 

"I'm sorry." You stammer, stealing yourself for the inevitable. 

"That's ok. I know this must be hard for you." She says pulling up your gown to reveal your sodden yellowed diaper. 

You couldn't help but look down at yourself. The infantile plastic fabric mounded between your legs seemed huge. Worse yet it was stained yellow, with your piss. "When did I do all that?" You thought. For the first time since Sarah had entered a tinge of fear overpowered your humiliation. "Do I really have that little control of myself now? Am I really that broken?"

As if answering your unspoken questions, Sarah continued. "Now, if you're changing lying down, you'll want to place the fresh diap.. brief underneath yourself in case you have a little accident midway through. That way it will all go in the new brief. Can you lift your butt up for me."

This was all too much. You numbly thrust your diapered crotch into the air for the whole world to see. Not least of which this poor beautiful woman beside you, whose face was practically pressed up against it, forced to endure changing the piss soaked rags of the invalid before her.

She daftly slid the unfolded diaper beneath you. "And down. Very good!" She nearly cooed. "Now, we just take the old one off." With each deafening rip of tape your anxiety built to a crescendo. Finally the sodden diaper lay tapeless across your shame. Sarah smiled a fake smile to no one and peeled back the top of the diaper to expose your hairless, piss covered groin to the room. You looked down at yourself, and at her sitting beside you. You felt as though your dick wasn't even yours anymore. Useless now, dribbling pee at random, and hairless, shaved while you were out during surgery. It looked and felt so juvenile. YOU looked and felt so juvenile, you thought. And you to make everything worse you were experiencing your new body for the first time with this beautiful young stranger. You glanced over at her, as if to find some comfort, some understanding, but there was nothing but the same sad, pitiful look on her face.

"Now, your number one concern with incontinence is actually skin care." Sarah said putting on a brave face. "So you want to make sure you clean up thoroughly during every change." She explained pulling wet wipes from their packs. 

You flinched away as she began to wipe you down. 

"Sorry, they're cold." She said smiling at you, and making eye contact for the first time since the change began. 

They were cold, but you weren't sure that was exactly why you flinched. Perhaps it was the obscene humiliation of a complete stranger wiping your own piss off your most intimate area, and a beautiful stranger at that. 

It occurred to you that just a day or two ago, the only interactions you'd have had with a beautiful woman and your dick would have been a fun sexual encounter. This couldn't be any further from a sexual encounter, despite having her gloved hand petting your dick at that very moment. You weren't a sexual partner. You were just a smelly, humiliating burden. 

"Now, I know you probably don't want to hear this, but if I were you, I would continue to remove your pubic hair. I know that may make you feel... a certain way, but trust me, having hair down there makes clean up WAY harder, and it can hold in smell, and you DEFINITELY don't want that. But of course that's totally up to you. That's just my two cents!" She finished cheerily.

Just when you thought your humiliation had peaked, more is piled on. You had assumed your hair removal was part of the procedure. That you could grow it back like the man you are. But no, being clean shaven is just another part of being in diapers.

"Ok! You're all clean! So now you can change into your new brief!" She said with false cheer. "Lift up."

For the final time you thrust your groin into the air, right by this poor woman's face. She pulled the sodden diaper from beneath you, and you lowered yourself onto the fresh diaper. 'Never not in a diaper' you thought. 

"Very good." Sarah said rolling up your used diaper. "You can roll these right up like this and tape them back closed like this." She explained, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to teach someone how to dispose of their used diapers. "Now. Remember how I said skin care is  super important?" You nodded numbly. "This is where you will want to be very meticulous with that. The first thing I like to do is apply the barrier cream. According to your chart you're fully incontinent correct? And the doctor explained what that means?"

"Yes." You mumbled meekly.

"So we expect you'll be passing stool into your diapers as well." She paused, presumably catching herself using the 'd' word, then powered through. "Prolonged exposure to your feces will break down your skin much faster than urine, so you'll want to change yourself as soon as possible. However that's not always possible, so it's highly recommended you apply a barrier cream"

'You'll be passing stool into your diapers' she had said. YOUR diapers. YOU WILL BE SHITTING IN YOUR DIAPERS. This is your reality now. Presumably for the rest of your life.

Sarah squeezed a line of ointment onto her gloved index finger. "This should be about how much you want. Oh! And definitely you'll want to wear gloves. These ointments can be really greasy." She explained.

Without further explanation she reached down and pulled your nutsack back and slid her lubed finger between your cheeks. You could feel her smearing the greasy ointment outward across your butt. 

"Make sure at the very least you cover your bottom, and the back of your scrotum. That's the area most likely to be in contact with feces."

To your absolute horror, you felt your member began to grow at her touch. Pulsating as it filled with blood, despite your state. It was all just too much. Tears again began to fall silently down your cheeks.

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed despite her attempts at professionalism. She looked back at you and exclaimed again. "Oh, no, no, no. Please don't cry. This is totally natural. I completely understand it's all beyond your control. And hey, this is really really good news for you right. We were uncertain in the procedure would result in importance as well right?"

Your tears continued unabated.

"Hey hey hey!" She continued trying to console you, "this is great news! Your dick still works! Right!" She smiled jokingly, relieving some of the tension in the room.

You smiled despite yourself. Wiping the tears away and nodding. "Thank you." You said.

"Ok, ok we're almost done! Hang in there." She said. "This is just oil. I'll be honest it's J&J baby oil. There's no getting around it, that's just what works as an all a round barrier to protect your skin." She was rushing now. Clearly as eager to get this over with now as you were.

She splashed a few dabs onto your groin where your hair used to be, and started rubbing it in around your now fully erect penis. 

"Just try and cover all of your private area with this AT LEAST once a day. I recommend after your morning diaper change when you're out of the shower. But after every diaper change would be better" She had dropped all pretenses in her hurry to get away from your erection that had become the hairless elephant in the room. 

You noticed with dismay that while Sarah oiled you up, urine trickled from the head of your penis onto your stomach, pooling a bit and rolling down your side into the fresh diaper beneath you. The realization that you truly had NO control dawned on you fully. What good was it being able to have an erection if it was always going to be leaking piss anyway?

"Ooops!" She said cheerfully, wiping the fresh urine off of your stomach. "Ok! Last bit, is the powder!" She said not missing a beat. She explained all of the different types you could purchase as she sprinkled the flagrant powder over your glistening freshly oiled erection and balls. You didn't catch much of what she said. All you could think about was the smell. Baby. It was baby powder. You smell like a baby now. And why shouldn't you? wrapped in your diaper, and covered in your own fluid. It was only fitting you now also SMELL like a baby.

"....use this EVERY TIME you change." She finished. "And that's it! Now we just tape you up."

She pulled the top of your new diaper up and over your penis. Pinning your still erect penis to your tummy.

"And then it's just one, two, three, four." She explained as she taped the fresh diaper in place. "Some people like to tape a different order, but that's what I like." She said, hurriedly pulling your gown back down to cover your new diaper before you had a chance to inspect it.

"Now what I would do," she explained "is stand up and test the fit. That's important if you change yourself laying down."

After such a thoroughly humiliating experience, you felt absolute relief at once again being covered and hidden from her, even if it was just by a thin hospital gown that did little to nothing to hide the outline of the diaper. Slowly you sat up and swung your feet over the side of the bed and stood. You winced painfully at the surprisingly loud crinkles your diaper made along the way. Finally you stood. You were a full head taller than Sarah you noticed. It felt weird standing in front of her like this. So close. Your boner, fully known to both of you, still straining against its new plastic prison. 

"Now how does it feel?" She asked "run your fingers along the leg holes to make sure it's not too tight there. You can always readjust accordingly."

"It feels pretty humiliating." You said half jokingly.

You hoped it would lighten the mood some, but she just looked at you with the same sad pity. 

"You'll get used to it. You'll see. This is your life now, and it's best if you try not to fight it. Okay? You'll be alright. Just a learning curve is all." She smiled and threw your used diaper in the trash by the door, and sorted your supplies back under your bed.

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, feeling the slick ointment between your cheeks, and the heft of the diaper between your legs. You stopped moving to avoid the obvious crinkles you were producing not wanting to draw attention to it. Dumb you thought, given all that just happened.

Satisfied with her cleaning Sarah stood to leave. "I'll be on shift all night ok? So just press that button there if you need anything. It was nice to meet you Matt. You're going to be ok"

"Thank you Sarah." You said abashedly.

She turned in the door, "and Matt,"

You looked up expectantly from your diaper bulge.

"When your penis settles down, reach in and point it back towards the bottom of your diaper, or you'll leak." She smiled, nodded and was gone.

"Your diaper" you said quietly. You wear diapers now. "And you'd better get used to it."

END OF PART ONE

As part of an AI Art experiment, please feel free to edit the photo used in this caption. If you enjoyed this story and would like to see it continue, please submit your edited photos to me. 

Thank you.

[tac-the-unseen]

Pebble

König x reader fluff

A pebble.

A single pebble lay on your desk.

A dark Grey stone with little clear specks giving the illusion of sparkles. Not terribly unusual if not for the fact that rocks in all different smaller sizes keep showing up around your stuff. You have a jar filled with them. You had no clue why they keep showing up. Everyday one pebble just appears.

Its became routine. Wake up, get dressed, find the pebble, go to work.

You're pretty sure someone's fucking with you. Like 80% sure. You told your supervisors and higher ups. They've sent some to the labs and each time it was simply just a rock. Then will hand you back the shattered stone.

It puzzles you and everyone who knows about the mystery stones. You've asked night sift if they know anything and they just shrug their shoulders.

Some people think a bird of some kind trying to court you. Others think someone is pranking you. And you leen to the latter here. Someone has to be joking with you. Why else would anyone do this? At least the pebbles make you somewhat happy.

To König the pebbles were a simple act of affection without having to get to close to you. Every morning he would get up, go outside and find a rock he likes. Then after putting all his love into it (squeezing the pebble in-between him plams and say nice things to it) he places it somewhere you'd notice.

He's mesmerized your routine so you never catch him in the pebble-placing act.

He thinks that because the pebble makes him happy it will in return make you happy.

Sometimes he finds the rocks on his missions. The pebble catches his attention for a brief moment and then it's in his pocket.

He thinks the rocks are beautiful and wants to give you that beauty.

He would love to tell you it him gifting you pebbles but he's terrified you'll call him weird and file a harassment claim. So he just keeps it up.

He even found tomorrow's pebble.

Tonight was the night. Tonight you finally had the night shift. Tonight you were gonna catch the pebble-placer.

Buuuuut you forgot one thing......the night shift was sooooo boring. Your eyes bore into the green lit monitors. Watching for intruders who dared to step into the base.

Coffee slowly became your best friend. You and the other poor soul on grave yard duty alternated making rounds about the base.

You read the clock....0200....2 AM....Mina stood from her chair. She stretched like a she was praying to a God and then made a hum. " my turn then." You nod as she swayed to the door. She stopped then turn to face you "Should a bring back a snack?" You nod again "Fuck yeah. Anything is good." She smiles lightly at you." alright, see ya."

"see ya." You repeat.

You watch on the monitors as she wanders around. Then you foot steps outside the door. You look down at the screens once again. Only to see the person just out of frame. Just barely out of sight.

You grab the gun from your hip. While the chance of an intruder are slim it will never be zero. You point it at the door and stayed there.

The door knob slow turned. A tall figure pushed into the dimly lit room then it paused.

There stood König. Eyes blown wide from what little you could see under his sniper hood. His shoulders tensed and hitched up. His arm slowly come up as to look non-threatening.

"König? what are you do here this late??" You whisper shout as you put your gun back in the holder on your hip. He seemed to relax for a moment. You and König have been friends for a few years. Not super close but close enough to hang out sometimes.

He started to panic trying to find an excuse. "I-I...got lost...." he stuttered out. You don't buy it. Before you can say something, Your eyes travel to one of his hands. it looks like he's holding something. He follows your gaze and snaps his hands to his chest. "I'm sorry I'll leave." He scrambled to the door. Out of instinct you grab him.

"König get back in here!" You yank at his shoulder. He freezes again then turns to you. His eyes are filled with fear but he listens and steps back into the room. You close the door behind him and take a breath.

You move to look in his eyes. "König why are you actually here?" He responds with the shaky breath. He looks around and then looks at the door, planning his escape. He looks down at his hand. "Can....Can I show you something and you not make fun of me?" He says softly.

You nod your head. "of course König. What do you want to show me?" He trembles and slowly holds out his hand to yours. He grabs your hand and opens it. softly a little light Grey pebble fall out onto your plams.

Your eyes blow wide as you stare at the pebble. You look up to meet König's eye only to see him make a run to the door.

He's gone before you have the chance to say anything.

 ∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Minor editing to format!

This was my first post and it blew up on AO3. So if you've ever wondered who wrote the pebble head cannon, that me!

[wolfscarr]

Helluva Broken Narrative and the most useless character..

Disclaimer: Not saying you can't enjoy this show folks. Enjoy it all you want, this is just a rant about the lack of a cohesive narrative!

I really was completely dead on posting, but I just can't get this out of my head.

I feel people should be acknowledging this far more than it has been, this is extremely important. This goes beyond just episode pacing, this goes beyond the characters....this is something that without it? There is no real show, which is....

Helluva Boss has a BROKEN NARRATIVE.

Some fans wanna claim it has this 'complex' writing and I'm sitting here going like "really? Where?"

It doesn't sorry and know why? Because Season 2 of this show, basically broke the narrative that Season 1 was building.

These past posts of mine, will show you why the narrative is broken.

Now can they continue on with the story they are telling? Yes of course they can, but it won't fix the fact that it's not coherent to Season 1, that it's not needed.

Wanna know who the most useless character in the show is now? If you guessed Stolas, you're correct! In the meaning of making Stolas this guy who did nothing wrong and who's sad....they took away his character purpose.

Stolas has ZERO purpose being within the show now, given how things have played out.

But you might say

"Well he's needed to give Blitz the Crystal and end the deal!"

Except....no, he wasn't. They could have just delivered the crystal to I.M.P. They have Blitz’ number, just call him, get a servant to send it etc.

Remembering my posts above, where you can have I.M.P. killing in Hell as a Season 1 thing?

Maybe they're just getting started with their company? So Blitz wants to supplement with killing in Hell by killing those up top so he goes to see about getting an Asmodean Crystal?

See let's backtrack here folks, the episode Oops it was mainly about Blitz and Fizz reconciling right? Which they do at the end of the episode. Now follow this, if we take into account the above, Blitz' dialogue could be.

Blitz: "Fizz look, I know what happened to you was horrible. I don't...expect you to forgive me, but I'm struggling to support myself, my daughter and my employees with my company. I....if you can just think on it, perhaps I could get one of those Asmodean Crystals?"

The scene ends and Fizz goes back to Ozzie, while along the way he's thinking about Blitz' words and how he was saved by him where in the end, Fizz agrees to send Blitz a Crystal because he's earned it from saving his very life.

Or here's another scenario, Blitz has a Crystal from the start(which he took from Verosika when they were dating), but as things get far more hectic up on Earth with more dangers. The Crystal ends up shattering after I.M.P. gets back to Hell after a job, thus Blitz goes to actually confront his past and reconcile with Fizz in order to try and get a new one.

See how easy it is now, to just remove Stolas entirely? They took away a character's purpose of being in the show....that to me, is completely disappointing. Characters, especially those that are suppose to be IMPORTANT, should have a purpose...without that? You may as well just delete them entirely.

Blitz could have had 2 whole Seasons with relating to the past and those that he hurt, that he TRULY hurt(Verosika, Fizz and Barbie) that would actually matter to him as a character. But instead, all these characters are instead shoved to the wayside, for a character who doesn't matter anymore and only actually matters because the writing is FORCING him to matter.

You can write the narrative in so many different ways with what Season 2 gives us, that completely destroys what Season 1 told us. Are we now expected to just....IGNORE AN ENTIRE SEASON?

They can do this whole "sad Stolas is sad and Blitz is hurt and Stolas is going to give him a crystal." Thing all the way to 'try' and fix things, but it'll fix nothing....because the deal between them was retroactively made completely pointless.

The show will continue obviously, but in the back of the minds....it will be a broken narrative and Season 1 is basically buried 6 feet under. As a writer, this really annoys me....because they had how long between Seasons to nail this down? How long have we all waited just in-between episodes? This shouldn't have happened.

Yes, is storytelling hard? Obviously, none of my stories are perfect....but at least the narrative is coherent from beginning to end.

Anyway...I just...had to get this out of my head, because it was really frustrating and I want it to be acknowledged more. The narrative is important folks, if it's broken...that's not a good thing.

I'm still watching this show....if only because I'm knee deep in it now and I still somewhat actually like the characters, but what I don't like...is this broken narrative that is still hanging around with a pointless character that doesn't matter to the show anymore.

Narratives, coherent narratives are important to a story, without it? You don't have characters and you don't have a story.

[etherealily]

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.

Cliffhanger or series? Haven't decided. Repost because of reasons.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: You're needed. Now.

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It's not like you even knew Nate.

You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.

Until they did.

Until he started following you on Instagram.

That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.

The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.

You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.

It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.

Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.

--------

Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.

She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).

Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-

Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.

Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?

Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.

Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.

Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?

(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)

The story was only text. Text and nothing more.

Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.

What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?

You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.

A picture, along with six other messages.

This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."

"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.

"You should be."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.

"You should be here. Come."

Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.

"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."

"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.

You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.

Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.

So much red.

Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.

He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.

"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."

Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.

But not like this.

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You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-

Nate Jacobs started an audio call.

Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.

"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."

Yup, that sounded about right.

You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?

Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.

"Y/N, please just come."

It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.

"Why?"

"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.

"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"

You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.

If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.

"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"

"Look-"

"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.

"Why?"

"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.

2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.

"I will cut deeper."

"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."

You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.

"I'm cutting."

"Stop."

"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."

A video. SHIT. FUCK.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.

The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.

The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.

As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.

It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.

Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.

"Let me go , McKay!"

"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.

He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.

"Okay."

He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.

What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'

You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.

"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.

He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."

"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"

"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"

"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"

The other team's captain.

"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."

The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?

"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."

Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.

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Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"

"Yes, Coach?"

"One more, then you can send her in."

"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.

Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?

Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.

Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breach every inch of a dry leaf.

"You came."

"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"

"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."

Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?

"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"

"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."

And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.

No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....

And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.

"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.

Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.

Smiled.

Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.

He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.

Not crack. Probably fent.

Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.

"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.

It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.

Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.

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You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.

You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.

You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'

You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.

"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."

Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.

"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"

You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.

Just a coincidence, right?

You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.

"You catch the touchdown?"

"Yeah. I did."

"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"

"Sure."

His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."

"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"

"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"

"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.

"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.

You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.

"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.

"Small dicks?"

"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."

"Like the hooking up thing."

"How do you know about that?"

"McKay told me."

He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.

"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."

If he was about to say what he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.

"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.

But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.

"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."

"When the fuck did you-"

"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."

Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?

"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"

"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.

"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."

"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"

No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.

"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"

"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.

"Yeah, okay, get out."

"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."

The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.

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"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."

The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.

That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.

He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.

And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.

"Y/N, please."

"Fine."

You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.

The entire football field gasped.

He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.

"Go. Play now."

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."

"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."

You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.

He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.

You hoped you'd heard wrong.

Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.

Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.

-------

He won.

He. Fucking. Won.

And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.

You hated yourself for it, but yes.

You wanted him dead.

All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.

Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.

"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."

You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.

"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."

"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."

"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."

"No chance in hell, Jacobs."

"Stop wounding me. Let me in."

"Or what?"

"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.

"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."

He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffel bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me where to go."

"You don't know where I live?"

"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"

"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."

"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."

He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."

"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."

"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."

"I barely even post anything!"

"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"

He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."

"It was unnecessary."

"Okay, you know what this is?"

He raised a brow.

"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"

And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.

To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."

"You did not just fucking kiss me."

"You want me to do it again?"

"NO."

"Then drive."

This motherfucking bastard of a man!

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"You wanna come in?"

No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.

"I'm good."

He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."

"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."

"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."

"Why? We're never talking after this."

He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.

"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."

He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."

"What? No."

"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"

"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"

But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-

"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."

"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."

The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.

Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.

"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.

"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.

"Not dressing that wound?"

"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."

Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.

And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.

How it should be.

But then he texted you.

Fuck.