#he’s about to explode the freakin toilet

[mazeofthemartyr]

oh my diarrhea💀

[umierajxstad]

i need him to stretch me out so badly.

we’ve met casually, grabbed some coffee and planned to go for a walk, but it pretty much didn’t happen. what happened?

from the look in his sweet eyes i could sense what’s going to happen, i could feel it going around us in the air, i could..

we sat inside of a little cafe. talked about really stupid and weird things, i smiled a lot, laughed a lot, but in reality all i could think about is his cock stretching my little pussy in the bathroom of this cafe. hard. i tried to focus on just talking, but i was so fucking horny, that my stomach started to hurt, and i’m pretty sure my wetness was visible on my grey panties, that were hiding underneath really tight jeans that i wore that day. i was tiny little bit embarrassed, just because i knew he knows, he saw every reaction that my body did, he heard my voice getting lower, my breathing fastened. he saw how my legs moved.

- i need to go to bathroom, im sorry, be right back. - my voice went super dark and low when i said this. graspy almost. he noticed, im sure. but he only nodded his head and smiled. fuck, how badly i wanted to see this smile between my legs.

i’ve sat in the toilet, desperately trying to calm down when i heard knock on the door. and i immediately knew that he came to take me as his fucktoy, and i would be lying if i said that didn’t turned me on even more.

i opened the door, he walked in and shut the door closed, while unzipping his pants. he is much bigger than me, he can do everything he wants to me and i can’t say no. i was drooling when i saw how hard and ready he was. kneeled, placed my hand on his dick and stroked him for a little bit, then placed him in my mouth and sucked like a dumb little whore he wanted me to be, and fucktoy i was at this moment. still stroking him hard with my small hand. i moaned onto his cock, saliva dripping down my chin. i gaged when he caught me by my hair, forcing me to take all of his inches inside of my throat, few tears came down running down my cheeks. i freakin loved it. he said that it was enough, but i was so needy of his cum on my tongue. anyway, he had another plans for his cum to be in.

he said that im a good girl, and i deserve a little reward. he placed me on the sink, took off my wet panties and licked me, my clit was so swollen and throbbing, i was on the verge, but he stopped, then he entered me and.. i came so hard when he pushed inside of my little cunt, just one move and i was done, tripping on my legs, they were so shaky. but he didn’t stop. he fucked me so hard, moaning straight to my ear that i’m his little slut, and he will fuck me whenever he wants to, and how he wants to. me hearing it.. i was done. i wanted to be his fuckwhore, his bitch in need. he pounded me so hard, that i’ve felt lightheaded, so many times that i came, it felt like too much. one slap on my ass, one after another. he didn’t stop until his cum filled my sweet little pussy, i felt it so good that i exploded on his dick one more time, trying to hold back the scream that i wanted to let out of my mouth. my walls clenched around his cock. dumb little whore i was in that moment, he fucked me so good that i didn’t know that i could feel this things.

he left me and i was feeling so empty without his dock inside. then he smiled,

smiled so nicely, i forgot my name in that moment. he looked down, his load running down my thighs. i touched this wetness, took some on my fingers and then sucked on it. it was so good, that i almost cried that he didn’t exploded in my mouth. he said that i was really good, real good girl.

his whore. slut. fuck toy.

grzeczna dziewczynka.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: *falls off his chair* juyeon

Genre: BIG ANGST + drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: NOTE THAT THIS IS A TRIGGER WARNING. I can’t include the reason because it’ll be a spoiler BUT THIS IS FICTITIOUS SO DON’T COME @ ME PLEASE

A/N pt 2: there isn’t much juyeon in this chapter so skip it if you just want some juyeon one shots

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

Stigma

Bourbon

Highway To Heaven (smut)

I Like Me Better

All Time Low

~

“so much for ‘i love you’.”

“are you sure you want to get on a more-than-twelve-hour flight to freakin’--” sunwoo grabs your passport and flips it open. “Amsterdam?” 

you snatch the passport back, shoving it into the pocket of your knee-length coat. 

“you ran from your family once...” chanhee looks at you with pleading eyes. “are you sure you want to run from this one?”

looking up from the passport, luggage next to your legs and surrounded by your friends, you scan the big, block letters that spell ‘departure’ across the entrance to the hall. 

“i’m not running. i just need to think.”

“the last time you were on a plane, you hurled from the turbulence,” eric scolds. “and it was a three-hour flight.”

you roll your eyes and raise a brow at your friends. they were all just finding ways to convince you stay instead of watching you leave the country just days after you find them jobs that were extremely high-paying. 

the calls you made were probably setting off a thousand alarms that would alert both your parents, since you were relying on the contacts you had as a chaebol. it was just a matter of time before they’d figure out that you left the country or something. 

“so what if i hurl? i’ll be fine when the plane lands.”

chanhee’s features were strained, and eric sighs, pulling you into a hug and giving you a brotherly rub on your head. 

“call us when you get there and tell us when you’re coming back, we’ll come get you.” eric releases you and sunwoo gives you a gently punch to your arm. you nod and look to chanhee, your arms already reaching out to him. 

chanhee takes a small step backwards, eyes looking like he was hurt. you knew he was upset with you for blowing things out of proportion with juyeon. if you didn’t try to defend him, the whole argument with juyeon wouldn’t have happened. but it was a fact that he crossed the line, and it had nothing to do with chanhee.

“if i let you hug me, then it means there’s a chance you’re going to run and i’ll never see you again.”

your arms remained stretched out but your head droops to the side, pouting a little and walking towards him regardless.

“i’m not going to run, chanhee,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “and even if i do, i’ll come back just to see you guys. you have my word.”

you hear him sigh in resignation and his arms find your lower back. “i’ll hold you to that. i’ll hunt you down myself if you disappear off the face of earth.”

you snicker as you pulled back, constantly swallowing your saliva so you don’t burst into ugly tears. 

you settle down in your seat and the passenger next to you greets you kindly. the skies outside the window next to you provided you the warmth and a strange feeling of freedom, but there was so much weight in your heart, you were worried the plane wouldn’t even take off. 

you recall the first time you were on a plane. it was a private flight to paris with your parents when you were still a kid. you spent half the time throwing up because of the turbulence.

the second time you were on a plane, it was with eric, chanhee and sunwoo to a nearby country. they watched you hurl out your meals like a fountain and though it might’ve been a little mean and annoying in that point of time, you look back now and realise that all they were trying to do was to make you laugh and get your mind off your motion-sickness.

you wouldn’t be who you were today if it weren’t for them. 

had they not dragged you onto a plane, you’d probably still be scared to fly with your motion sickness. but thanks to them, it didn’t matter anymore. it doesn’t matter if you threw up, all you needed to do was think about them and you’ll be fine. 

you watch the sunset below the clouds that look like cotton and marshmallows, the constant whirring of the vehicle was slowly but surely getting to your head. the pressure of being in the sky was squeezing the juices out of your brain and making your eyes tear up. your ears were slightly blocked, so blasting music didn’t really help.

you feel the familiar ball of stomach acid push itself up your throat and into your chest, and you barely get the words out to the passenger next to you before she shifts and lets you out. 

you watch the half-digested grains of rice and fruit spew out through your lips and into the toilet bowl, the material on your knees soaking up whatever liquid that was on the floor. might’ve been pee, but who cares?

“miss, are you alright?”

“yeah--” you belch out a disgusting scent, a mixture of vomit and food. “i’m okay.” 

you grab a handful of tissue and wipe your lips, leaning back on your heels before losing your balance when the plane shakes a little. your back hits the wall of the cabin, and a headache rips through your temples. 

you grit your teeth and groans of pain unconsciously pour out through your lips, your hands now pressing into your ear as the pressure in them become physical pain. 

“miss! are you okay? do you need any assistance?”

“i’m fine!” you snap back. “it’s just a little... headache--”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“stay with me forever.”

“i can’t pretend you’re not the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“i love you.”

you vision widens and start to focus, but you frown to yourself when you process nothing besides a plain, white ceiling with amber lights lining the edges. 

you inhale a deep breath and you give your nerves a moment to find your fingers. you blink so slowly, you were wondering if you were paralyzed or if your brain was just processing it super slowly.

“you’re awake.”

that voice.

turning in search of the source, your eyes catch a glimpse of the room you were in. there was a table in the corner of the room, a television mounted to the wall, and the floor was carpeted with a cream colored rug. 

you process the views before you spot an IV drip, and it was hooked up to your left hand. the blanket was riled up to your stomach, and the scent of the room knocks some sense into your thinking. 

you were in a hospital ward.

“where am i?” you breathe lightly, shutting your lids and rolling your eyes under to make sure you weren’t in a dream. 

“in amsterdam, where else?” 

“what date and time is it?” you look behind him and note the pathetic amount of afternoon sunlight spilling through the blinds that were closed. 

“i don’t know how that’s going to tell you how long you’ve been here, but you passed out halfway on your flight here. you’ve been in this bed for more than thirty hours.”

you suck in a sharp breath and cover your eyes with one arm, the disgusting scent of medicine and antiseptic making your lungs hurt. 

“how did you know i was here?”

dumb question to ask.

“it was a little difficult to ignore the calls you were making to my sub-ordinates and colleagues and partners. adding on the fact that your mother called to scream at me about you getting on a plane here,” your father gets out of the sofa next to your bed and walks around to the table, pouring a glass of water. “i wasn’t very keen on hearing her out until she told me your flight was to amsterdam.”

he brings the glass to you and holds it out.

“it was tricky to pretend that you aren’t my daughter... who also happens to have motion-sickness but still gets on a flight alone.”

you scoff, sitting up and taking the glass only because your throat was killing you. “fun to know that i need to get on a plane to get your attention.”

your father scratches a temple and waits for you to finish the glass of water.

“enough attention for me to cancel my meetings and fly here from croatia. i left the moment the airline called me to tell me my daughter passed out on the flight your mother was telling me about.”

you gulp the last bit of water and hold it to your chest. he gestures for it, and you reluctantly let him take it away from you. 

it reminds you of all the times his house staff waited on you and how bad it made you feel. but you were always happy knowing that they were comfortable working in that house. 

“so, do i get to know why i had to cancel my meetings to find you here, in a ward?” he lands the cup on the table and refers to the sofa seat next to you. 

“solo trip to get away from city life. i simply passed out from the turbulence a long-flight was putting me through.”

he’s probably not going to buy that.

“that’s not very healthy.”

you scoff, lying back down into the bed and running your hand through your hair. “of course it’s not healthy. anymore throwing up and i’ll erode my own digestive system. if only i could fault someone for my throwing up.”

silence. 

“so... whose is it?”

“what do you mean ‘whose is it’? i was born with a weak gut, so i guess it’s mine.”

silence. 

“i’m not talking about your motion-sickness, y/n. i’m talking about the 15-week foetus inside you.”

the what--

“15-week foetus? what are you--”

oh.

no.

“you didn’t know you were pregnant?”

your heart felt like it was going to explode and a wave of ache rips through your chest. 

“if it’s a 15-week-old foetus, shouldn’t you have already missed like two or three periods?”

your fingers find your temples and you shut your eyes tightly. you start to feel your eyes getting wet and your nose turns sour as you desperately try to find any strand of possibility that this wasn’t happening. 

“i was... working. i thought it was just the stress--” all of a sudden, you see nothing but juyeon’s face in your head. your eyes were sealed shut but you saw nothing but him. 

and now you were carrying his child. 

“huh,” your father calmly watches you go through a whole mental breakdown. “you’re not wearing a ring, so i assume the baby’s father isn’t my son-in-law?” 

you turn to look at him with tears impairing your vision. 

“your mother told me you were engaged over the phone. you can imagine my confusion when you turn up here, on the other side of the planet, alone, pregnant and without a ring.”

this can’t be real.

“get out.”

your father sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils.

“you can fly back to croatia and tell mother not to poke her nose into this. i’ll deal with it on my own.”

he nods in your peripheral vision, your eyes only staring at an empty space on the ceiling. you shut your eyes and let the tears roll down the sides of your face, curving its way into the crevices of your ears. the sound of the shoes thumping softly against the carpet tells you he’s leaving and you hear the door swing open.

“call me if you need anything. i’m still your father after all.”

and with that, you hear the door shut. 

you let yourself sob quietly, the reality sinking into your bones and you swore you could hear your heart beating in your ears. your hands find your abdomen, and you question why the product of your love with him was presented to you not in the form of casual dates and a simpler romance, but a baby, in a world of money you wanted nothing to do with. 

you pull yourself together after about an hour of crying, and through swollen eyes, you find your luggage and bags behind the sofa seat your father previously sat on. fumbling around your bag, you were relieved that your phone had not been turned on the entire time since you boarded the plane. it would still be close to full battery.

your home screen becomes flooded with notifications of missed calls. from eric, sunwoo, chanhee, your mother, even your manager, and him.

you swipe away everything and let the phone adjust to the timezone and boot up, and once it was good to go, your first instinct was to call chanhee. 

“where have you been?! your flight landed like... a billion years ago!”

“chanhee--”

“you better have a damn good explanation for fucking disappearing off the face of the fucking earth when you literally told me you won’t--”

“i--”

“where are you now, huh?! strutting down some random street in amsterdam thinking about coming back like, never?!”

“chanh--”

“believe me, i WILL get on a plane and fly to amsterdam just to strangle you myself!”

“chanhee, i’m pregnant.”

the other end of the line goes silent and you wonder if he hung up or something. 

you hear him breathe into the receiver and that was your cue to finish your story.

“i passed out on the flight and now i’m in a hospital in amsterdam. my father’s in the country because the airline called him about me but i don’t know how long he’s staying,” you pause, bracing yourself to repeat that cursed word reality has decided to offer you. “i’m three months pregnant.”

silence. 

you look down at your hands that were absent-mindedly fiddling with the corners of your blanket. your hair was messy and draped over your shoulders. your eyes struggle to remain wide open after the excessive crying in the last hour. 

“... does he know?”

“no. even i didn’t.”

“what are you going to do about the baby?”

you purse your lips, pain rippling through you when you realise you had to make a decision that would change your life forever.

“i assume you’re not planning on telling him?”

it was your turn to fall silent.

you don’t want to be a shitty person for hiding this from him, but neither did you want him to have an opinion on what you should do with it. 

“i think you should know that he’s been searching high and low for you. sangyeon and jaehyun told us that he’s been to your place and the only thing he hasn’t done is call the bureau director.”

“i’ll tell him after i decide what to do with it.”

“and?”

“i’ll tell him--”

“i know what you’re thinking of doing.”

you feel your facial features strain and compress all into each other, your thumb brushing the skin on your finger where the ring should be. 

“you’re thinking of aborting it and telling him right before you get it done, aren’t you?”

he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“i know it sucks... the situation you’re in. and i don’t want to be the one who guilt trips you into keeping it just because it’s his or that it’s a life. so forget about him, and think about yourself before you decide to do anything. it’s yours as much as it’s his, and i know you have the means to raise it on your own, both financially and emotionally.”

chanhee’s words crush your last attempt at holding yourself together, and you bury your face into your free hand with the phone held to your ear. 

“you’re hurting, and i know there’s nothing i can do to make you feel better besides give you what you need right now, and that’s space and emotional support,” a pause. “so call me when you’ve decided, and i promise i’ll see you soon.”

you sniffle loudly into the receiver, sure that he heard you. nodding to yourself, you thank chanhee and hang up, letting whatever fluids you had left inside you pour out through your eyes. 

THE NEXT DAY

“thank you, it was a great stay,” you smile at the hospital receptionist, handing her the black and silver card that your father left behind. it had your name on it, but this was the first time you’ve ever used it.

you promised yourself you’d return the money when you earn it back. you didn’t want them to use this as a hold to keep you by their side. 

“the bill’s already been paid by your father, miss,” she returns a bright smile and hands the card back to you.

ugh, one step late. 

“in fact, he informed us that he’s booked you a place to stay in a hotel nearby. it’s a five-star hotel so there’s everything you need there, and if you feel uncomfortable or in need of medical assistance, it’s only a five minute drive here from the hotel.”

you provide her a weak service smile as you chuck the card back into your wallet. 

the receptionist calls you a cab and sends you on your way to the castle-looking hotel. the hotel staff get your luggage and belongings up to the room while you roam around the lobby and the compound. you find yourself outside the building, now walking along the path next to the river bank. 

couples were eating and drinking the evening away, the orange beams from the sun shining down on you and elongating the shadows of the birds that fly past above you in the sun’s light. 

you find yourself in a secluded spot where the river opens up to the sea after spending nearly an hour just walking along the water line. 

the only source of light around were the street lamps, and the water extends so far out, you couldn’t even see the horizon. you hear someone walk past every now and then and they kindly greet you. the friendly culture here was making you feel so comfortable, you couldn’t help but laugh at chanhee’s worry about you staying here forever. 

you pull out your phone and dial for the abortion provider of the hospital you stayed at, and for a second you worry about the medical bills. 

but it was quickly washed away once the abortion provider picks up, and you start inquiring about abortion protocols. your eyes travel out to sea as the person on the other end of the line feeds you the information that you were going to need to look over again once you’ve returned to the hotel.

your mind flashes back to the night juyeon proposed to you after you told him about your family. and you truly wonder...

life has a way of putting you in places you were meant to be.

Part 11 (final): Gravity

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.22 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st JUST AFTER SUNRISE

Warren County, Illinois

Spitz gasped.

His face burned and the inside of his mouth itched. He clasped his hands to his face to try and silence the noise of his breathing but he knew that he was doing a very poor job of it. His brain screamed at him to shut up, be silent, and stay right there in that bathroom stall. But Spitz had always been a curious little kid, and he knew that he probably couldn't do that.

I may be the only one who can call ‪911‬, he thought.

He had snuck a pack of M&Ms while Lonnie and Richie had gone back to looking at the porno, having exhausted all the change that that older kid from California had given them for the arcades. Spitz didn't really care much about the pictures of the naked ladies...he only pretend to really be interested in it to fit in with Lonnie and Richie. So when they went back to ogling over the private parts, Spitz had said he needed to go to the bathroom and snuck a pack of M&Ms so he could chow down on the candy without anyone seeing him.

A man had come in right after him, and had sat in the stall next to him. There he had suffered from what Spitz's mom would have called “the runs” while Spitz had drawn his feet up onto the bowl and pretended he wasn't there. At first Spitz had put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing at the gurgles and machine gun spits and splats of the man's defecation, but then that hand on his mouth was used to keep from vomiting when the smell washed over the bathroom.

Spitz had clutched his candy and closed his eyes, and tried to think happy thoughts like the one time his class had taken a field trip to a doughnut factory in Peoria. He had tried to remember the sweet smell of the place to force the actual smell of human feces out of his consciousness. It had worked a little, but not enough as the smell literally began to burn Spitz' eyes, forcing tears from his sockets. That made the urge not to laugh worse. He couldn't wait to tell his friends about this crap---no pun intended.

The man had finished, flushed, zipped his pants up, and had left. Without washing his hands. Spitz had thought that really freakin' gross, but was given little time to dwell on this fact before the gunshots had started, accompanied by screams. Spitz had dropped his candy at the first shot, nearly slipping off the toilet. Instinctively he buried his face at his knees, covering his head and holding his breath.

There was silence now.

It had seemed like there had been silence now for hours, but Spitz wasn't really sure, it was probably only a few minutes. Slowly, he put his feet to the floor, letting the feeling come back to his feet. His legs had fallen asleep as he had crouched on the lid of the toilet. Ignoring the pins and needles he carefully unlatched the stall door, and pushed it open with a low pitched creak. Shuffling to the door, he put his hand on the stainless steel rectangle to push and took a deep breath.

Mr. Raj probably has a phone behind the counter, he thought to himself, I'm gonna run back there and call ‪911‬ and then run back to the bathroom.

He was sure to himself that the 'bad guy' who had done the shooting was long gone---he had seen enough robberies in movies and on TV---so he wasn't scared of that...he just didn't want to see any dead people—especially maybe his friends.

I just won't look around, he thought, I'll run to the desk, grab the phone, call, and run back.

He didn't think he could handle seeing any dead bodies.

No way..no how.

His knees started to shake and buckle as he pushed open the door. He could smell the acrid smoke smell. He knew it well. His daddy had guns, and he'd gone hunting before, but the only thing he'd ever killed were Pepsi cans.

A static noise filled his ears. Mr. Raj had been playing with that TV thingy all night, and there had been times where there had been periods where only static had been coming over the speakers. Spitz took another deep breath and stepped out into the little corridor. His heart jumped.

Ahead of him, across the store, next to the entrance that led out to the garage, there was the counter that held the slow cookers of boiled peanuts, as well as the hot-case which held the hotdogs and nachos. One of the slow cookers had a hole in the side of it, right through the A in PEANUTS. Hot brown water poured in a fountain through the hole, raining down on the crumpled body below of Quinn, the auto mechanic. Quinn was laying on his side, facing away from Spitz, one arm stretched out above his head while the other hung limply behind his back. The peanut water deluge was hitting him directly in the side, and a wet spot was spreading out from that point and had by now nearly soaked all of the top part of his coveralls. Steam rose up from the spot the liquid made contact with the fabric.

Spitz tried to look away, but he was struck by the simple fact that if Quinn wasn't dead, he was sure behind scalded by that hot water raining down on him.

Spitz turned to the left, looking down the back corridor between the coolers full of drinks and the aisles, toward the back wall where the hallway opened up to the left...leading to where he and his friends had been looking at the porno when the kid from California had met them. There his heart jumped again. He saw Lonnie's legs sticking out from behind the wall. He knew it was Lonnie because he had just got a brand new pair of retro looking Converse All-Stars from the Langdon Outlet Mall last weekend. He had been very proud of his new shoes. Spitz squinted and saw a single red smear on the white toe of Lonnie's left shoe.

Blood, he knew, gotta be blood.

Spitz panicked, dove to the left, and sprinted toward the front of the store. He cut a look to the left to the outside. The parking lot was empty, and it was still raining like crazy. Then he slid toward the side of the front counter, trying not to look back at Mr. Quinn, and jumped up into the little room that compromised the cashier station.

Then he gasped.

Mr. Raj lay on the floor, with his back against the cigarette case. The register lay at his feet, and loose change was scattered all about him, as were some packs of cigarettes of a various sort. His mouth lay open, and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. A big red spot sat in the center of his chest, framing a black hole the size of an avocado pit. Spitz whimpered and tried to look away, but could not. He reached out his hand for the phone on the wall but drew it back when his index finger exploded in pain.

There was a hole in the phone receiver itself, framed by jagged plastic, which Spitz had cut his finger on. He looked down at the tip near the nail and saw the blood well up. The bad guy had shot the phone!, he thought. He stuck the finger in his mouth, tasting the bitter taste of his own blood, and craned his neck to look out the window at the storm that had raged all night and was still raging.

Somebody's bound to come soon, his mind told him, somebody's gotta.

Then, for the second time that night, he buried his head at his knees. But this time he didn't hold his breath.

Cell phone, he thought.

Mr. Raj has got to have a cellphone.

He looked over at Mr. Raj again, trying not to look at his face. In those cold dead eyes.

Spitz could see the top corner of a cellphone peeking out of Mr. Raj's pocket.

I have to get that cellphone and call the police.

He knew he had to, but didn't know if he was going to be able to.

He began to sob.

NEXT>>

[classic-rock-roller]

1. One of your exes keeps coming to your house, an your 12 year old son keeps answering the door. He does as you say, and tells him you’re not home, until one day he messes up and says to him, “Mom says she’s not home.” What does your ex do and how do you respond?

He’d push past my son, and come into the kitchen. I’d think he was Kevin and turn around and once I saw it was him, we’d start screaming at each other before I push him out of the house and tell him to leave. I don’t tell Kevin so as not to worry him.

2. You’ve been super busy at work lately, so Kevin has been getting your kids ready for school in the mornings. One morning you go downstairs and see him making their lunches, and a bit of ash from the cigarette in his mouth falls onto a sandwich. He doesn’t notice, and before you can say anything, he puts the other bread slice on top and boxes the sandwich. What do you do?

“Kevin, you just got ashes in that sandwich. You might want to make another one.” “I did?” “ Yes, please don’t smoke while making the kids’ lunches.”

3. Kevin is being extra bossy with you today, and after a while you tell him to cool it. He just looks at you and yells, “Respect my authority!” How do you respond?

“Respect your authority? I would if you weren’t being so bossy and sassy towards me.”

4. You got really drunk at a party with Crue one night, but somehow you ended up back home. Someone knocks on your door the next morning, and you open it to see Nikki. “Hey, sweet thing, how about some more sugar for Daddy?” He says. You ask him what the hell he’s talking about, and he just says, “Last night. You wanna go at it again?” You have no recollection of anything from the previous night. How do you respond?

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t remember anything from last night.”

5. You’re staying at Kevin’s great gramma’s house in Colorado in the middle of BFN. She’s got grey water hooked up so that her trees get water during the hot weather. One day, very early in the morning, you all hear a loud boom. You roll over while Kevin gets up to investigate. He goes downstairs, and you hear a muffled, “Oh God” before he comes running back upstairs, yelling, “Gramma Frieda! We got a problem!” You get up and are greeted by a terrible smell. You follow Kevin and his great gramma downstairs to see that the pipe used for the grey water exploded, and now there is raw sewage seeping through the basement. What do you all do?

We’d try to stop the sewage and call a plumber to get it fixed so there’s not too much damage.

6. You are on tour with your band and notice that your wind player reads one book like it’s the Bible. When you ask, she gladly tells you that it’s Ozzy Osbourne’s autobiography. One day, when you’re all on the bus, your bass player says something along the lines of, “Why do you read that book so much? It’s the same story over and over again.” The wind player angrily shouts, “It’s because my dad was an asshole and I used this book for fatherly guidance instead of him!” The bus goes instantly quiet before the wind player locks herself at the back of the bus. What happens next?

I’d head back and knock on the door “sweetheart, are you ok? I’m sorry about him he can be oblivious sometimes. Is there anything I can do?”

7. You’re at a family reunion when one of Kevin’s cousins comes up to you guys. “So, Kevin, where’d ya find this hot piece?” he asks. How do you two respond?

I’d blush like crazy and Kevin would smile and say, “ I found this “hot piece” at one of our concerts.“

8. You’re going through and doing some thorough spring cleaning when your twelve year old son comes up to you with a shoebox. “Mom, what’s this?” You look at it, and it’s some, shall we say, dodgy photos from when you and Kevin were touring with your respective bands. How do you respond?

“Oh, that’s nothing. It’s nothing interesting mostly old papers of mine and your dads.” I’d grab it from him and put it in mine and Kevin’s room.

9. Your band has been on tour for a few weeks, and you feel like shit. Everyone’s experiencing a little jet lag, but you’re just feeling awful. Upon further investigation, you find out you’re pregnant. You don’t recall sleeping with anyone since you left for the tour, but you don’t know if you can go on without receiving medical attention. What do you do?

I’d confide in my wind player because she’s my closest friend and then I’d try to find an obgyn that I could go to while on tour.

10. You and Kevin have lived in the same house for 20 years. The old couple down the street have just passed away, and a new couple from Texas move in. Kevin looks out the window a lot, and he always comments how at night there are never any lights on except for the one in the basement. One night when he comes up to bed, he says to you, “I am a thousand percent sure that they are cooking meth in Old Man Waterman’s house. There’s no other explanation. How do you respond?

“How do you know that?” “They’re always down there. What else could they be doing?” “You watch too much Breaking Bad.”

11. You come home one day to hear that Kevin is on the phone. He sounds upset, so you just wave in greeting when you walk in. He halfheartedly waves back before his face falls. “Well, that’s great, then. You get to blame your life on me. Congratu-fucking-lations.” He hangs up and sighs. “What was that about?” you ask. How does he respond?

“Yeah, my brother just blamed me for most of what happened in his life.” “Aw, honey, I’m sorry.”

———-

1) Your band enters a “battle of the bands” with Crüe and QR. How does your band do? 

 2) You tell Randy your pregnant and at first he is elated. But over the coming weeks you can see that he’s less excited. When you ask him about it he says, “I’m just worried about being like my father. I don’t want to be like him.” How do you respond? 

3) Randy is putting your six month old son to bed and you go in to check on them because it’s been a while. When your enter the room, you see Randy walking around with him and hum singing QR. “Is that one of QR’s songs?” You ask. How does he respond? 

4) You went to QR’s practice and while getting ready to leave you’ve lost your car keys. You and Randy spend twenty minutes looking for you keys when Kevin comes up and says, "Are these your keys? I found them on the floor.” How do you respond?

 5) You’re daughter has been awfully quiet. You and Randy go to look for her and find her about to flush your four kittens down the toilet. What do you you? 

6) You and Randy are staying in a really seedy hotel and were given a room that hadn’t even been cleaned from the last people who stayed. You voice your opinion and while you’re unpacking the desk clerk tells you that you need to leave because you complain too much. How do you and Randy react? 

7) You’re sitting at the table with Randy working on school work. Kevin comes over and says, “Are you done yet, you freakin’ nerds?” How do you and Randy react? 

8)You’re at a bar with Kevin and Randy. You order a beer and take one sip before saying, "I now remember why I hate beer.” Kevin takes your glass and downs it all at once. You look at him and he says, “Well we can’t waste it.” How do you and Randy respond? 

9)You and Randy are rushing around to finish last minute things for Kevin and his girlfriends wedding. You are setting up the hall at the hotel and your six year old son is trying to help. You leave because it is getting late. As you are halfway down the road, Randy looks in the back and screams, "Crap, we forgot James." What do you you? 

10) You're staying at the hotel for Kevin and his girlfriends wedding. When you get back to the room you find Randy wearing your pajama pants. "Why are you wearing my pants?" "I forgot mine and didn't realize until we got here." How do you respond? 

11) You and Randy are taking care of your cousin's baby. You're taking to him and walking around with him. You're trying to keep him from fussing too much because your at a family function. All of a sudden Randy goes, "You'll make a great mother to our kids one day." How do you respond? 

@osbournebemydaddy your move love

[tobythewise]

ABC prompt letter E: eggpreg

Give me my next prompt here!

Dean was currently pacing. He knew he should be resting upand saving his energy. He knew that this entire night was going to be one ofcomplete hell. The knowledge of what to come was exactly what was keeping himpacing. There was no way he could stop his body from the continuous back andforth path it was currently on.

“Dean. You’re not going to have another contraction for awhile. Why don’t you come back into bed with me and I’ll rub your back.”

Dean didn’t feel like getting into bed and relaxing. Then hewould have too much time to think about what was going to happen and thinkabout the impending pain he was going to feel. Nope! He needed some sort ofdistraction and right now, pacing was doing its job. How in the hell did he gethere? 

Two years and sixmonths ago 

“Dad! You can’t justship me off to some alpha that I don’t even know! This is complete bullshit!”

“Watch your tongueboy! I am getting the Winchester territory ready for when I’m no longer here.That means your alpha brother needs a new wife from the Ferguson territory tosecure that alliance and you need to be with your alpha husband to secure theNovak territory. I realize this hurts your feelings or whatever, but it’snecessary to help Sam’s future rule.”

“How come Sammy getsto pick his future wife from that territory? What if he didn’t want to marry ademon? Maybe he’d rather marry a human or an angel like me!”

John takes a deep breathas he runs his hand down his jaw thinking of what he’d say next. He sighed andwalked over to his eldest son. He clasped his hand on his shoulder and lookedhim straight in the eyes. “I know this is hard but what you’re doing will helpSammy take care of our clan and territory. With Sammy’s marriage sealing analliance with the Ferguson’s and your marriage sealing the deal with theNovak’s, Sammy won’t have any enemies. He can rule knowing his people are safe.Plus Dean, your sons and daughters will take the head of the Novak clansomeday. You should be proud. I am.”

Dean looked down atthe floor in submission. He would do this to take care of Sammy. 

Now

 Dean grunted as the next contraction ripped through hisbody. They were still about 50 minutes apart. He groaned in frustration as hethought about how much longer this was going to take.

He waddled his way over to where his husband sat on theirbed. Damn him and his calming scent. Damn his breathtakingly blue eyes andperfectly plump lips. And damn that stupid sex hair. This was all his fault. Deanreached for his mate and buried his nose in his neck. He allowed his mate’scalm and excited scent wash over him. The longer he sat with his nose there,the better he was feeling.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Dean.”

Dean huffed, “You mean besides the obvious?”

“You smell annoyed and scared. Are you worried about theclutch? So far you are doing perfectly. Everything is going exactly asexpected.”

“Cas, this is your fault. Maybe if you weren’t so goddamnsexy I wouldn’t be in this mess.” Castiel’s scent changed to amusement and Deancouldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face. “Honestly? I’m starting to getfreaked out. You know I didn’t have any omegas around growing up so I didn’tknow exactly what to expect. I was really hoping our first kid was going to behuman but of course your genes had to win out, alpha. I thought I had more timeto prepare for this.”

 Four months ago

 Dean is hunched overthe toilet throwing up for the fourth day in a row. He’s exhausted and crankyand pretty much hates the world at this moment.

A gentle hand startscaressing his back and running their fingers through his hair. It feels likesuch a relief he almost starts purring. He finally lifts is head to see Ellensitting on the floor next to him. “Hey sweetie.”

“Hi Ellen,” he said ashe leans his head against her shoulder. Ellen is like a mother to him. He’snever had another omega around to take care of him and he loves that she’saround now that he’s at the Novak estate. “Sorry you have to see me like this.I don’t even know what the hell’s going on. I thought I had the flu but thisdoesn’t seem to be going away. It freakin’ sucks.”

“Shhh, honey, it’salright,” she continued to gently rub his back. “Do you mind if I scent you?”He hums and bares his throat in answer. She takes a deep breath and Dean feelsher hand still.

“What is it Ellen? Issomething wrong?”

“Of course not. ButDean, when was your last heat?”

Dean’s heats havealways been on schedule like clockwork. Every eight weeks he had one. “Last onewas about seven weeks ago. Next one will be here in six days.”

“Sweetie, I don’tthink you’re gettin’ your next heat. I think you’re pregnant.” Dean’s breathingstops and his chest feels like it’s going to explode. He and Cas have beentrying to get pregnant for roughly six months now and it’s finally happened. Heknows he’s excited but suddenly he’s really scared. Ellen must smell his fearand panic because her reassuring touch is back. “Honey, it’s alright. You guysboth wanted this. Now you’re going to have a little one that’s a mix of youguys. Plus, you have so many people here who will help you when you need it,Dean. You’re not alone in this.”

Ellen knows exactlywhat to say because suddenly there’s no more panic. Instead it’s been replacedwith unadulterated excitement. “Thanks Ellen,” he says as he puts his head backdown on her shoulder. “I don’t even know what to expect. No one’s reallyprepped me for this part. My dad kept me locked away from other people for themost part because I was an unruly omega. I never knew how to ‘play my part’.”

“You’re perfect theway you are, Dean. You’re strong and kind and you’re a good man. You makeCastiel better and you make the perfect mate for him and that’s all thatmatters.” She cards her fingers through his hair again. “Now, to the educationpart. You know a human omega is special. They take of the characteristics oftheir mate. So a human omega can have a human baby, a demon spawn, or anangel’s clutch. Since you’re human and Castiel is an angel you either got ahuman baby in that belly of yours or a clutch.”

Dean took a second totake this all in. He vaguely knew all of this, but it was one thing to know itand another to actually experience it. “How come Cas couldn’t smell thepregnancy but you can.”

Ellen smiled, “I’vebeen doing this for a while. The smell is so faint right now you wouldn’t smellit unless you were looking for it. It’s so faint in fact that I’m guessing youhave a clutch rather than a baby.”

Dean grimaced, “How isthat going to go? Is it different from a regular pregnancy?”

“You’ll get biggerlike a normal pregnancy. But you’ll lay the egg or eggs at five months and thentake care of the eggs for another five months before they hatch.” Ellen mustsmell the panic again because she quickly adds, “I’m just speculating, Dean.You could have a normal human pregnancy for all I know. No one will really knowuntil the five month mark hits.”

“Thanks Ellen,” hesays and he grabs her hand and squeezes. “For everything.”

  Now

 Dean wakes up to another contraction. His trip down memorylane must have actually put him to sleep for a little bit. He’ll take the smallblessings were he can get them. He clenches his fists in his sheets and ridesit out as best as he can. The contractions are getting closer together and morepainful. As the contraction ends he takes a deep breath to settle himself. Hecan smell all of his closest loved ones. His nest has something from everyoneimportant to him and it helps to calm him.

“Hey, Cas,” he smiles at his mate. Cas takes such good careof him. He never thought in a million years that his arranged mating would beanything but forced. That’s how it started at least, but now they’re here,waiting for their clutch to be born. He couldn’t be happier. Cas must pick upof the scent of happy mate because a bright smile graces his face and he startsto nuzzle Dean’s neck. “Tell me the story of our first meeting.”

“Why Dean? You were there. You know what happened?” Caslooks genuinely confused by this request.

“Babe, just tell the story. I only know what happened on myend. I want to hear it from your point of view. Plus, I just need a distractionand nothing does that better than your sexy deep voice.”

Cas just huffs in amusement and gives in to his husband’srequest. He usually does anyway.

 Two years and fivemonths ago

 Castiel stands in hisroom, looking at himself in the mirror. He feels ridiculous as his squire,Samandrial, adorns his wings with their ceremonial garb. He hates wearing thegold chains and trinkets in his wings but his father says it’s necessary.Meeting ones intended mate is a grand affair and all the stops must be made.

“Thank you,Samandrial, that will be all for now.” Samandrial nods and makes his way outthe door. Castiel looks at himself in the mirror one last time before he tooleaves the room. He must go meet his betrothed at the entrance before escortinghim and his company to their respected places in the estate. Their wedding willbe tomorrow morning. Tonight is all about meeting and getting to know eachother during their engagement dinner.

Castiel stands on thesteps of his family home and awaits his betrothed. He thankfully doesn’t needto wait long because soon a carriage pulls up. Slowly, people starts to fileout. His breathe literally caught in his throat when the most beautiful manhe’d ever met got out of the carriage. He’d never felt like this in his entirelife. He wasn’t entirely convinced he COULD feel like this. The man defiantlywalked right up to Castiel, never bowing his head or letting his eyes driftdown.

Normally, this is thepoint in the first time meeting where his betrothed would bare his neck insubmission and allow Castiel to scent his future mate for the first time. Yet,this man kept his shoulders back and head held high in what Castiel must assumeto be an act of defiance. Castiel’s lips twitch with a smile. He bared his neckto his mate. He heard several gasps from those around but he didn’t care. He’dnever been called a normal alpha.

His mate’s eye browsshot up in surprise and he only hesitated for a moment before Castiel felt hisnose on his neck. The man stayed there for several seconds. Then he stood backand looked Castiel in the eyes before baring his own neck for scenting. Castielgingerly scented his mate and was overcome with approval. His mate smelleddivine. The mix of campfire and forest pine. It made Castiel think of hischildhood and camping out in the backyard. He knew he’d be completely addictedto this smell. Without thinking he licked a think stripe on his mate’s neck.Marking him as his.

His mate made a quitegrowl noise in his chest and Castiel instantly jumped back and stood stockstill. He couldn’t believe he just did that in front of everyone and withoutthis man’s permission. Castiel’s never done an impulsive thing like this in hislife. His hit the ground between them and he whispered, “I apologize, I don’tknow what came over me.”

“Can we just get thisshow on the road?”

 Now

 Dean is laughing as he remembers how nervous and embarrassedCas was. “I still can’t believe you licked me in front of all our friends andfamily, dude.”

Castiel’s face is red and he can’t help but chuckle himself.“What can I say, Dean? You just smell so good!” He buries his face in Dean’sneck and inhales dramatically to push his point home. “Mmm! So good. Myperfect, omega.”

Dean shoves his head away. “Don’t talk like that, you knowdamn well what it does to me.”

“My apologies. I don’t want to make you any moreuncomfortable than you already are.” Castiel begins kneading Dean’s back tohelp relieve any pressure that’s there.

“Mmm. Thanks, baby.”

“Anything for you, Dean.”

 One year ago

 “Castiel! Don’t. He’snot worth it!”

Every alpha speaks ofthe anger and rage they feel when someone insults their mate. They describe thesurge of adrenaline and they speak of their vision fading to red, but Castielnever truly believed them. Now he officially knew they were speaking the truth.A fierce growl was released from his throat and his teeth bared. Someone hadtouched his mate and he would not stand for it.

“How dare you try toforce yourself on MY mate,” he roared. The other alpha was a demon fromLilith’s clan. His name was Alistair and Castiel was going to rip his throatout. “How dare you come into my home and disrespect my hospitality by touchingwhat’s not yours.” He was absolutely furious and nothing could stop the alpharage that coursed through his body.

Suddenly a body wasbetween his and Alistair’s. Castiel, still seeing red rage, bared his teethagain. The person growled right back. Castiel looked more closely and realizedit was his mate in the way. He was confused. He wanted to kill this demon buthis beautiful mate was in the way. He couldn’t put his mate in danger byattacking now.

Dean put his hands upin a sign of surrender and tilted his head to bare his throat. He slowlystepped closer to Castiel until they were in touching distance. Once he wasclose enough, he gently brought his hands up to Castiel’s head and dragged hisnose to his neck. “Come on, alpha. Breathe in and try to calm down,” Deancooed.

Deep breath afterbreath of mate, home, calm. The tint of red slowly faded from his vision untilhe was calm enough to look at his husband. He was indefinitely thankful forthis man. “Thank you, Dean,” he whispered.

Dean nodded his headin answer and gave him a quick kiss. “What should I do with him, Dean?”

Dean seemed tocontemplate that as he starred at Alistair. Once his mind was made up he lookedat his husband with the tiniest hint of a smile. “Cut of his tail and ban himfrom our lands.”

The man gasped andpleaded. A demon without his tail was a disgrace to their kind. Castiel lookedat his husband and knew he would do anything for this man. And that’s exactlywhat Castiel did.

 Now

 Dean gripped his husband tight. He could feel the eggdropping. It was almost time to push. Thinking back to all the things that hadhappened in his life, this moment was no longer scary or panic inducing. Thiswas a moment filled with love and support. He was bringing life into the worldthat he and Cas made. That thought alone brought a smile to his face.

“You’re doing so well, Dean. Do you want me to bring Ellenin or are you still doing okay?”

“I’m okay. I want you to stay in the nest. I can feel thatmy body knows what it’s doing.” Dean got up onto his knees and Cas joined him.They knelt facing each other in the middle of their nest. Dean rested his headon his husbands shoulder and Cas brought his arms around to hold him. “It’stime to push, Cas.”

“Go ahead and push. I’m right here. I won’t let you go.”

Dean pushed with the next contraction. Sweat started to dripdown his forehead and his muscled began to shake with exertion. Cas manifestedhis wings and wrapped them around both of their bodies. Dean was grateful. Hehas always loved his husband’s wings. While distracted from the pain by theplay of feathers on his back, he was able to keep pushing with eachcontraction.

He felt pressure at his hole and knew the egg was almostout. “Cas. Are you ready to catch it?” One more big push and he felt the eggslide free. He panted to try and catch his breathe.

“Dean, it’s beautiful,” Cas said in awe. The egg was blackwith silver and hints of purple. The pattern on it was like galaxies. It wasstunning to look at. The egg resembled Castiel’s wings and that thought broughta tear to Dean’s eye.

Dean was about to reach out and hold his egg when anothercontraction hit his body. “Shit! I think there’s another one!” He pushed witheach contraction. Cas continued to coo and encourage his husband until one lastpush brought another egg into the world. This one was smaller than the firstand was green with yellow specks. This one reminded him of his own eyes.

When no other contractions came, Cas helped Dean lie down onhis side and he laid the eggs by Dean’s belly. Dean wrapped his arms around hiseggs while Cas laid down on the other side of them. They both stayed silentenjoying the silent and solitude of the moment.

“I love you so much, Dean. I never thought I would be soblessed. Thank you for giving us a family. I am so proud of you.” Dean couldhear the shear emotions from Cas’ whispers. He tried to keep the tears away butsoon a few spilled over.

“I love you too, Cas. Love you so much, alpha.” They feelasleep, exhausted, with small smiles on their lips.

[genesisarclite]

A list of things I really, really like about Prey (still haven’t decided if it’s my GOTY... still waiting on Forza 7, after all...). Full of nerdiness and tumblrspeak.

- literally the perfect mix of light, color, shadow, and really cool Neo Deco design

- dat music doe (”Into the Tunnels” anyone?)

- male Morgan

- tense in all the right places, hilarious in all the others

- the art book. the team put their whole freakin’ heart into this game.

- dropping something on a Huntress bolt without realizing it. bolt go squeak.

- shooting a bolt in the GUTS. squeak squeak squeak.

- cystoids going after bolt and exploding. bolt still squeak. bolt indestructible.

- Huntress Boltcaster I want one

- Tim Kang’s voice

- Mimics hopping around as cups and cans

- “that’s a nice view over the bay there” (o rly Arkane is that so)

- EPIC HELICOPTER RIDE

- (Morgan jamming out to the music on the helicopter ride)

- realistic holograms

- boop boop goes the corrupted Operators

- telepaths and technopaths running away in a panic after a Nullwave

- SPAAAAAAAAAAACE

- realistic panorama of the stars on the Arboretum

- Alex’s office

- smashing the crystal in Alex’s office

- Morgan’s face

- Alex wanting his little brother back

- “he’s... he’s hiding behind the chair”

- Nightmare being terrifying. also really stupid.

- that one time a Phantom floated in the cargo bay while asleep

- FLUSHING A MIMIC DOWN THE TOILET

- “did you know the human body can survive 30 min without a blood supply?”

- test didn’t say the fat guy would die (thanks Markiplier)

- supervillain family photo (thanks Jacksepticeye)

- Morgan in a suuuuuuit

- January talking, digging himself deeper holes

- “OMG!hotboss” yes he is

- FLYING IN MICROGRAVITYYYYYY

- shoving open unpowered doors with the Power of Leverage III

- the first time you use a Neuromod (nooooooooo thank you)

- Mimic slaps your butt and runs out the door

- getting shocked in the butt

- sealing leaky oxygen tanks with GLOO

- GLOOOOOOO GUUUUUN (more like GLOO FUN amirite)

- oh hi Nightmare how u been

- shooting Typhon in the face to techno

- Alex not wanting to subject his little brother to dangerous tests

- Morgan smiling

- Mr. Glooey McGlooface

- freaking Udon Noodle cups. read your fortune on each one.

- PSYCHOSHOCK (more like Psychoshook amirite)

- can that uniform get any tighter Morgan good heavens

- legit everything I love about sci-fi

[geekade]

Cheating Cheating or Not Cheating Cheating?

This past week, it came to light that the Boston Red Sox were using apple watches to steal pitch signs from the New York Yankees, which was corroborated through an investigation by Major League Baseball. This sounds more like an overt product placement ad than an actual scandal, let alone a practical way to relay signs in the time it takes a pitcher to deliver a fastball to the plate. Whatever, I don’t really need to understand the texting speed of bullpen coaches on a device conceptualized by Dick Tracy. The Red Sox, much like my grade school child when caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, tattled right back claiming the Yankees have been using their YES Network to do the exact same thing. Here’s the deal, there is no baseball commandment stating THOU SHALL NOT STEAL SIGNS. In fact, if it was baseball-illegal, there wouldn’t even need to be signs at all. The whole idea of signs is so that the opposition doesn’t know what you’re communicating, because they are permitted to look. All of this finger pointing does make me think about a what is and isn’t considered cheating, particularly in a sport that has lots of written and unwritten rules, and has the sports world’s richest tradition of bending and sometimes dropping a bomb on said rules. I think there are four basic types of “cheating.” Not all of them are bad. After all, if you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying.

First, there’s “Not Cheating Cheating.” Not cheating cheating is all the crap that people call cheap, poor sportsmanship and bad form that gives a team an actual and/or psychological advantage. This is where sign stealing lives. However, I will say that while I’m in the camp that doesn’t mind this practice, it should be reserved to the human eyes of the players and coaches on the field. Using broadcasts, telescopes, and other James Bond tech doesn’t pass the smell test for me, and gives distinct advantages to the home team specifically.

Another aspect of Baseball that I would consider “Not Cheating Cheating” involves the ground crew. One of the things I absolutely love about baseball is the ball parks. Each one is unique and has its own distinctive features. From the Liberty Bell in Ashburn Alley, to the Green Monster, to the outfield swimming pool in Arizona, to whatever the hell is in the outfield in Miami. What goes unnoticed by a lot of casual fans is the way the ground crew can manipulate the field itself to give an advantage to the home team. Your club’s sinker ball pitcher is starting? Maybe we won’t cut the grass so short to slow the onslaught of ground balls the opposition is bound to hit. Does your team like to bunt for base hits? Let’s lay the chalk foul lines thick to keep those rollers fair. This is the definition of home field advantage and is something that makes baseball special.

Somewhere in the “Upside Down” between not cheating cheating and cheating you’ll find creepy cheating. Creepy cheating is technically not cheating in a between-the-foul-lines sense, but it does blur the line of what we’ll call “moral acceptability.” The best example of this is Lenny Dykstra. Dykstra, despite his despicableness, knows his baseball, and one of the fundamental principles of the game is that with a favorable balls/strikes count, your chances of getting on base increases dramatically. To exploit this to the maximum, Dysktra would hire a team of private investigators to dig up dirt on umpires. He would then use any below-board information uncovered by Sam & Max between pitches to casually let the men in blue know he was aware of their gambling habits, extramarital affairs, or whatever. The blackmail wasn’t for cash though, instead Dysktra needed those borderline calls to be balls. This gives an already good player, on steroids (more on that later), an advantage no other player could enjoy. It’s no surprise Dykstra, for a period of time, was among the league leaders in walks as well as on-base percentage.

Next up is Charming Cheating. This is the type of rule breaking that is definitely cheating. It gives a player or team an unfair advantage that seems super shady, but at the same time is woven into the fabric of the game. I’m putting spitballs and sandpaper in this category. I’ll let fictional Cleveland Indian Eddie Harris tell it best:

Major League (1989)

Eddie Harris: Crisco. Bardol. Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. Of course if the umps are watching me real close I'll rub a little jalapeno up my nose, get it runnin', and if I need to load the ball up I just......wipe my nose.  Rick Vaughn: You put snot on the ball?

Eddie Harris: I haven't got an arm like you, kid. I have to put anything on it I can find. Someday you will too.

While it’s clearly cheating, there’s such an intangible charm to it. I classify hiding sandpaper, patches of Vaseline or bodily fluids more as shenanigans than violating the sanctity of the game. I’m going to include corked bats here as well. Corked, pine tarred, or otherwise altered bats are the hitter’s rendition of the spitball. Plus watching a corked bat explode during an MLB game is such an amazing moment of comedy and disgrace.

That brings us to the fourth and most vile, disgusting form of cheating. The kind that doesn’t just cheat the opposition, it cheats teammates, fans and history. This is the “Go to Freakin’ Hell You Scumbag” form of cheating, and there’s three violations that I can think of that fall into this category.

Gambling/Tanking: This is weird because when we think of cheating we think of trying to get an advantage, not allowing the opposition to waltz to victory, but that’s exactly what eight members of 1919 Chicago White Sox were accused of doing, in the World Series no less (I personally reduce that to seven members of the Sox as I’m a Shoeless Joe Jackson truther, except when portrayed by Ray Liotta). It’s the unspeakable: intentionally losing for gambling purposes. Unless you’re a fan of the New York Yankees, your team doesn’t win championships all that often, if my team intentionally lost even a World Series inning, I wouldn’t be angry or disappointed, I would be destroyed to my core, and I can honestly say, I would never be the same again.

Performance Enhancing Drugs: We all had a blast watching Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa smash us through the summer of 1998, but at what cost? We opened the flood gate to watch records that have stood for generations tumble annually like houses of cards. The ghosts of Ruth, Maris and Aaron should haunt the homes of these false idols for all eternity. This defacing of the history and tradition of America’s pastime cannot be understated.

Performance Enhancing Drugs and Denying It: Go to hell. Do not pass go. Go directly to hell. Go directly to hell and rot for all eternity. You took something special, something millions of us love and have loved for our entire lives and used it like a toilet bowl. Not only that, you won’t admit you did it in the face of overwhelming evidence. This writer will never forgive you, never recognize your records or hall of fame inductions if they ever come.

So where does Apple Watch-gate fall? I’m not sure, maybe there’s a fifth category, Cheating Cheating? Techno Cheating? Maybe it’s up to personal opinion, but it is worth thinking about how exactly cheating is cheating? While I’m on the topic, maybe an entire dissertation based on the New England Patriots is in order.