#and i am having so much restraint not correcting him because he's being super nice by engaging in conversation with me

[dbphantom]

H20

did you mean: twenty hydrogens: just add hydrogen

we are going to have

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #13

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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Ramen Story

The voice of the owner as he said “welcome” turned into a mutter at the end, fading away. I could understand how he felt. With a light, cut-and-sew jacket draped over him, a blond, blue-eyed man had come inside, standing behind another man who quite literally had the air of a student. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to wonder if he was an actor. But we were just a party of two.

“Two people,” I indicated with a peace sign. We were guided to a table seat. There were no other people around. While we were at it, we gave them the meal tickets that we had bought from the vending machine outside. A couple of negi ramen.

“What a surprise. There’s always a long queue for this shop. So that’s how shops are like right after they open in a student district?”

In this shop, currently reserved to our exclusive use, I talked without restraint about all sorts of things – about the layout of the classroom building in my campus, about the hideout-like garden in the university’s premises, about my friends and even about my teachers. The shop’s atmosphere did that to me. The man who could well be the best listener in the world let me talk as much as I wanted, occasionally making an exasperated face.

“Here, sorry for the wait. It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You too, Mr. Foreigner. This is ‘hot’.”

As Richard replied with a “thank you, madam”, the old lady laughed fickly.

Now for the ramen.

Its soup was salt-based, warm steam wafting from it. That being said, it wasn’t as if there was anything special about it. We hadn’t added any ingredients, so it was a simple one. Fermented bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, fish cake and a large helping of green onions.

We silently put our hands together to thank for the meal, taking the chopsticks and parting them with a snap. I took the dwindled noodles, then opened my mouth wide and filled it with them. I tried to make as little noise as possible.

Delicious.

This shop’s ramen was simple, but it was a strong ally for a student’s cold pockets and quick-to-get-hungry stomach. It stayed steadily in your belly, resolutely reminding you for about three hours that you had eaten ramen today. And above all else, the animalistic joy of eating without thinking was more irreplaceable than anything else. Tasty food was great.

By the moment I was done with my very-IQ-lacking monologue of “thank you, o ramen; o ramen, thank you”, there was only a little bit left of the contents of my bowl. Still eating the green onion ramen without a sound, Richard looked at me with upturned eyes from his bended posture. Those blue eyes made me seriously wonder if there weren’t gemstones inserted in them.

“Hey, you got a moment?”

“As you wish. Whatever you please.”

When I prefaced it with, “This is serious talk – super, super serious talk”, he made a face that screamed, “You’re being too long-winded”, so I went straight to the point.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come eat ramen with me.”

I hadn’t imagined that the day would come when I could eat a bowl of ramen for 450 yen at a historical, cozy ramen shop in the student town with this beautiful man who usually only wore suits. I hadn’t at all. Even now, another side of me was still tilting his neck somewhere within my mind, wondering about “how things came to this”.

Ever since around the time I had started working part-time in Ginza, I had no sense of reality. Not even about the fact that I would later be going to Sri Lanka. No, of course, I was fully ready and had a Visa, so I was in a phase where all I had left to do was get on the plane and I was making the oh-so-busy Richard help me out with that, but...

Richard took a sip of the salt-based soup with the china spoon, then glanced at me. “So you were not expecting anything from me, is that it?”

“No way. On the contrary.”

When I said that I just didn’t think he would give me the OK, Richard’s lips curved in the shape of an arc, and after looking for napkins on the table, he realized that there weren’t any, so he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

“I value the accuracy of your palate. It is obvious that, if you have a shop you like, I would want to try eating there.”

“Thank you. And for remembering about it too.”

Soon after I had started working part-time, I was introduced to a stone called chrysoprase. I once laughed my butt off when I learned that the etymology of the fresh green-colored stone included the meaning of “leek” or “green onion”. The topic then changed into ramen, and we, the shopkeeper and part-timer who subtly had not yet thrown off reserve with each other, talked about liking green onion ramen, what kinds of toppings we preferred, and other such things. I had kind of thought that “it’d be nice to go have ramen with this guy someday”. Back then, to me, Richard was someone as far-off as the moon and stars that shone in outer space. Of course, he was still as resplendent as the moon and stars even now, but he didn’t feel as distant.

Once I was done drinking the soup up to it’s last drop, I heaved a small sigh. “That was delicious. Last time eating Japanese ramen and this one for a while, huh.”

“How about putting instant ramen in your suitcase?”

“I ain’t used to making those. I’m the type that goes out to eat ramen rather than making instant ones. But there’s curry roux inside. Weird story, isn’t it? I’m going to a curry culture zone, yet I’m taking curry with me.”

“Analyzing Indian and Sri Lankan curry by Japanese curry standards can cause serious stomach problems. Beware.”

I puffed out my chest, saying that I had properly prepared myself for this because he had already told me about it before, to which the beautiful man gave a little sigh.

“May I also talk about a truly serious topic?”

When I told him that didn’t mind it at all and that I wanted to hear it, Richard looked at my face directly. It made me nervous. What was he going to tell me, I wondered.

“I did not think that you would actually invite me out for ramen.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I honestly did not.”

“Why?”

As I kept on tilting my neck at that sentence, which you wouldn’t think would come from someone like him – who looked like just breathing was enough for him to get invited to eat out –, Richard spoke to me reticently. He told me that people were quick to come towards him, but there were also those who surrounded him from a distance, watching him without trying to shorten the distance between him and themselves. So this kind of thing also happened?

Looking back, I was also from the keep-a-distance group at first. But I sucked at giving up, and whenever something that made me happy happened, I would be overjoyed no matter how many times I remembered about it, so every time I recalled the chrysoprase talk, I would find myself thinking that I should invite him out for ramen. It just so happened that the desire for this “someday” had amplified as the number of times that I thought about it increased, and I had finally voiced it this spring.

The shop was tiny and had a bit of a mysterious scent, but it was truly delicious. It would be closing this spring. I was concerned about what to do if he declined it with an awkward face, but the response I got after speaking up was a “When will it be?” without a moment’s delay.

“Was it okay to have invited you?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, I was just thinking I was glad that I invited you, but...”

The reply was a short-range smile. That slightly tired face with no sense of uneasiness to it was bad for the heart. But I was gonna get used to it. I had to.

“Still, was it really all right? That I was the one you had a meal with for the last time at a shop that you have fond memories of, I mean. Would it not have been better to do so with the friends that you always ate with?” Richard asked.

Hmm. So he was gonna bring that up, huh?

“Well, well, thank you very much for your superb consideration. But I’m glad it was with you.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m glad it was with you. Not anyone else; with you.”

I had learned many lessons even in just four years of university, such as that things were shifting, everything kept changing over and over, the green onion ramen shop would be gone, I would be leaving for Sri Lanka in the near future and there was no telling how my life was going to be from now on. But this jeweler was a man who knew very well how to cherish a memory.

Only to people like that did I entrust the things I didn’t want to forget.

Bidding a courteous farewell to the elderly shopkeeper and old lady employee, we exited the shop. Cars rushed on the Yasukuni Avenue. Kasaba during holidays was so quiet that it felt like a different world. As the wind softly blew, the cherry trees planted along the street shook and their pale pink petals scattered about.

“That was delicious, huh~. You got any plans for later?”

“I am going to help Saul with chores. We are not boorish enough to engage in business talk after just eating ramen.”

I stole a peek at his profile as he started chewing on a mint gum. The beautiful man brushed cherry blossom petals off his golden hair. He offered me one of the white gums, asking if I wanted to eat it.

I probably wouldn’t forget this sight. Even if that ramen shop was gone, even if my address was no longer in Tokyo.

Richard tilted his head a little, as I was still staring at his face even after accepting the gum. “Anything the matter?”

“Aah, sorry. Your beauty was like you’ve come from another world, so I spaced out.”

I then changed the topic, saying I was going to think about what to have for dinner or something. There were still lots of shops that I wanted to visit while I was still in Japan, though they were all set-meal and chain ones. I didn’t think I was able to hide my melancholy, but he’d probably act like he didn’t see anything. I was grateful for that.

In the middle of our walk to the train station, I looked back at the cityscape one last time and wordlessly offered a moment of silence to it.

Thank you for everything; I’m off!

[themusicplayedherlife]

WIP: Just a Little of Your Love

So this is really only an idea, not a concrete one. It’ll deal with Reader’s relationship with a somewhat jaded Obi Wan (at this point it might also become a Din Djarin x Reader x Obi Wan, instead of past!Din Djarin x Reader—probably not lmfao). Basic summary is: “You’re a person who gives too much of themselves, Obi Wan is a person who has lost a lot of himself.” or the lyrics “And every time I think the planets alignin' // You're still so close, but yet so far.” —Still Dont Know My Name by Labrinth

title is also is also under construction lol (inspired by take by wens)

There’s a knock in the door and Din moves just slightly so you could see who is about to come in when you ask who it is.

“It’s uh Obi Wan.”

Din’s eyebrows furrow in question, most likely trying to figure out who that is. He practically knows everyone you work with or are friends with except for Obi Wan, whose name he has definitely heard, but can’t place. Obi Wan hasn’t been part of your life for such a long time.

“Come in.”

“I thought we could have lunch together. Anakin is—“ The door opens slowly and Obi Wan peers into the room, almost as if afraid to enter, until he sees Din and Baby, his mouth falling slightly agape at the unexpected sight, and trailing off. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company, if I knew—“

“It’s fine, Obi,” you interject softly, hiking Baby higher on your hip. He’s getting bigger and heavier now, harder to hold. “You’re not interrupting.”

“I was just leaving, as well,” Din says, glancing at you with intrigue and a very much confused look in his eyes then at Obi Wan, and you sigh.

“Din, this Obi Wan Kenobi, an old friend of mine and Luke and Leia’s godfather.” Recognition flashes in his eyes, having seen pictures of Obi Wan when he was younger with longer hair and obviously from stories he's heard, whether from you or your friends. “Obi Wan, this is my friend, Din Djarin.”

Din moves away from you to offer his hand to Obi Wan, who accepts it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Obi Wan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“As have I,” Obi Wan says, stern and a little less than detached.

Din raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything while you groan internally. What exactly has Anakin been feeding Obi Wan?

“Baby!” The little one in your arms squirms and you laugh, finding him looking at you with a scrunched up face displeased that you haven’t introduced him, yet.

“I’m sorry, honey. Obi Wan, this is Baby Djarin, Din’s son.”

“Our,” Din corrects, shooting you a look.

“Right.” You bite your lip to hide your wide smile, ducking your head before nodding. “Our son.”

Obi Wan blinks, taken aback by the sudden information and you don’t blame him. You’ll probably have to explain this situation to him since apparently Anakin and Padme chose to omit this part of your life from him (you ignore the fact that you have as well, but then again, you weren’t the one that kept in touch with him since he left and it’s not like you’ve had a chance to tell him since he came back either).

He clears his throat and a smile settles on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, little one.”

Baby is absolutely delighted that Obi Wan is offering his hand, practically jumping out of your arms to shake his hand. Din quickly balances him and you by placing a hand in your back and another on Baby’s tummy.

“Careful,” he murmurs, which makes Baby pout. Chuckling, he ruffles his son’s curls. “I should get going.”

“Good luck,” you tell him, watching him lean down to kiss the top of Baby’s brown curls. “There’s no doubt you’ll get the job.”

He sighs, a corner of his lips lifting into an unsteady smile. He’s nervous. “I hope so.”

“You’re going to do great,” you assure him firmly. “You know all the ins and out, and have Cara and Greef vouching for you. You are more than qualified for this position.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” He doesn’t sound super convinced, but he still manages to nod resolutely and picks up his sling bag, but then he pauses. “You sure this is fine?”

You roll your eyes again. “Yes, Din. It’s fine. Baby being here is no trouble at all.”

“Okay. Okay. Just—I’ll try to head back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

His head tilts slightly, but then he nods, finally relenting. Turning to Obi Wan, he says, “It was nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Obi Wan supplies back, but it’s still tense and stern.

Din doesn’t let it bother him, instead focusing on his son. “Bye, Baby.”

“Bwye, Papa!”

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Yeah, yeah, go!” He shoots you a look and you laugh. “Go,” you urge.

Din finally slips out the door, but not without another kiss to Baby’s head.

“So, son?” Obi Wan breaks his silence as you put Baby down onto his feet.

He’s quick to waddle to his bag and pull out a blanket, handing it to you to place for him on the floor. Din and you always place it on top to make it easy to take out and after seeing you and his dad do it so much, Baby just knows that’s his ground blanket.

“Yeah.” You place down the blanket, smoothing it out and Baby tries to help by grabbing the corners and tugging.

“How old is he?”

“Hey, Baby,” you faux-whisper, “wanna tell Obi Wan how old you are?”

Holding up four fingers in Obi Wan’s direction, he practically yells, “Thwee!”

Obi Wan chuckles, thoroughly amused at how excited Baby is to share his age. “Wow! You’re so big.”

“Yes,” Baby says, dropping himself onto his bottom once he’s satisfied with how you’ve laid out the blanket. “Big!”

“He’s turning four in a couple of months,” you inform him with a smile, sitting down next to your little one. “It’s why he’s starting to put up four fingers. Luke and Leia have been teaching him.”

“So Anakin and Padme know?”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?”

“They didn't mention it to me.”

Probably because Anakin didn’t think they’d be part of my life after Din and I broke up. But that’s not what you voice, instead you only say, “Oh.”

He raises an eyebrow, a perfectly arched eyebrow and it reminds you so much of the young Obi Wan Kenobi that you’d try so hard to impress with your ever growing knowledge.

“I figured they hadn’t with how you reacted earlier.”

“Baby is from a previous relationship of his?” He isn’t, not exactly, but Obi Wan doesn’t need to know what isn’t your information to give. “And you and Din are, what, coparenting?”

He doesn’t mean to sound like he’s being judgemental but it sure as hell sounds like it when he stares at you like that, like he’s questioning your life choices. You don’t like it. Never did.

“Baby was only a few months old when he came into our lives.”

“You have grown attached.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, a heavy loaded statement, one you don’t know if you even want to decipher.

You sigh. “Yes, Obi Wan. I am attached.” Baby slaps his hands on your thighs, grinning toothily and you smooth his hair away from his wide, brown eyes. “How could I not be? We are family. Blood or no blood.”

“I see.” He wants to say more, you can tell by the way he speaks his words slowly, with restraint.

Something bubbles in your stomach, nothing pleasant. It's anger and frustration and this need to yell at him like when you were both younger and you less mature. You want to push, to force him to tell you exactly what he wants to say, it’s never stopped him before, so why now? But Baby babbling in broken sentences to himself while trying to pull his toys out of his bag reminds you that you are not that person anymore, haven’t been that person in such a long time. And maybe it’s for the best.

“Wed truck?” Baby asks, showing off the newest toy in his collection and when you place your hand out, thinking he wants to give it to you, he stands on his two little feet and waddles over to Obi Wan. “Cheer up, pwease. Wed truck will help!”

[seyaryminamoto]

Masterpost: answering a single anon in a single post

So. I wasn’t going to answer asks today but frankly, considering what I should be writing I’d rather answer asks, might actually get a laugh out of it. Most of all, because of what I intend to answer here.

To spare y’all from the pain and annoyance of having to read through any of my answers to we-know-who, I’m going to do it differently this time. All in one post. Because frankly, filling my blog with their TWENTY asks, no less (and it’s official this time, used to be sixteen but then I reblogged that post about conflict in stories and they went wild, as usual) isn’t worth anyone’s time. Hell, it’s not even worth mine, but procrastination is overpowering.

Here we go. If you’re not the anon in question and still want to read this, I hope you have fun.

This is a free world. That means multiple things some people can’t seem to accept. One such thing is that people have no obligation to even interact with each other, let alone to do what others demand of them, especially when they don’t want to. The fact is, being harassed (because, yes, there’s no other word for it) by someone has been a pretty irritating and stressful thing for me, to the point where it has impacted my ability to write...

And the harasser doesn’t give a single fuck about it and just keeps going :’)

With such introduction, I decide to engage my least favorite person in this site once again because clearly, ignoring them, blocking them, closing asks, deleting and rewriting reviews, is still not enough to get across the message that reiterating an opinion a million times doesn’t automatically make it more valid. So let’s see just what’s going on with this very much desperate person who apparently can’t stop seeking my attention:

First of all, I asked this person, point-blank, to address their asks, if they would continue sending them, to my main blog. Let’s see how that request turned out:

Oh my, astonishing! They sent it to Gladiator’s blog instead! And what a bigger shock: they’re, as usual, trying to control and direct what I write and how I write it. While sprinkling empty compliments that don’t mean a thing, such as claiming RESPECT for me and my work when every single ask they’ve sent is an outright disrespectful act against me, considering how many times I’ve requested, directly, that they stop this, and how many times they’ve ignored me. It even is extra poignant considering my request for them to send asks to my main blog instead, and yet they deliberately sent it to Gladiator’s blog. This is what RESPECT looks like, in this anon’s head. Fascinating stuff, isn’t it?

And then comes the mad onslaught that left me facedesking for days:

... I mean. Can someone please read this and tell me the person on the other side, with their vague condition, whatever it may be, has any idea what an apology even MEANS? 

For someone who’s so obsessed with alleged consistency, you’re damn bad at it yourself, Anon. You can’t send four asks in a row, to the WRONG BLOG, demanding for explanations you don’t even care to read, because every single time I’ve taken your whining seriously you’ve disregarded all my responses and gone right back to the same BS as before, and THEN pretend you’re here TO APOLOGIZE.

You don’t feel any remorse. To this day, you don’t even KNOW what you did wrong. This is NOT expressing yourself: THIS IS HARASSMENT. Need me to define the word for you to understand what it means, seeing as it’s becoming abundantly clear your reading and interpretation skills are not the greatest?

Definitions of harassment:

1. (n) the act of tormenting by continued persistent attacks and criticism 2. (n)  a feeling of intense annoyance caused by being tormented

I’ve said it before: PEOPLE HAVE HAD COMPLAINTS ABOUT THIS STORY, FAR MORE VALID THAN YOURS, AND I’VE NEVER REACTED THIS WAY. Care to guess why?

Because you NEVER stop. Because you keep going, constantly, never slowing down to think YOUR behavior is affecting a REAL LIFE HUMAN BEING. You’re obsessing over what happens in a fictional story that, by the way, is a fanfic, ergo, it obeys certain rules that general fiction does not. Among such rules is abiding by ORIGINAL characterization to a certain extent, and that means, hahaha, that Azula ISN’T an experienced character in any social or romantic situations because she ISN’T in canon, and there was no reason to change that, especially considering the worldbuilding I crafted, which makes it CRUCIAL for Azula to be careful with her virtue, despite she doesn’t want to be and realizes the whole notion of female virginal purity is absolute BULLSHIT.

But why am I explaining anything anyway? You won’t understand it, because you don’t want to. You claim, constantly, that you’re asking things OUT OF CURIOSITY, as if that makes ANYTHING better, when the truth is you’re just here to impose your cursed opinions on everyone else, especially me, and pretend you somehow own this fic and ship and your demands mean more than anyone else’s. Meanwhile, oh, I understand you PERFECTLY: you don’t want Sokka to ever have any experiences with any other women because you only believe in pure, untainted love of virgins who wait for each other and don’t ever make mistakes or are forced into unwanted situations. Because, again, you can’t understand that those sorts of things CAN happen. Because you don’t see there’s nuance to human beings, nuance I attempt to capture through my characters too.

I said it semi-jokingly, back in my past answers, now I say it directly: IF YOU CAN’T STOMACH THESE SITUATIONS AND CAN’T ACCEPT THEM, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU.

An M-rated story doesn’t owe you any apologies for being what it is. An M-rated story, at the end of the day, is a STORY. You are a human being who should be capable of controlling not only your impulses but your reactions to things, at least to some degree, and yet you refuse to. You, in fact, continue to prove you CAN’T control yourself in the least because hey, just now, halfway through writing this post? I got THREE MORE ASKS by you. No less than three. And you finished them off, again, with a pretense that you’re going to stop pestering me...

... But hey. You said that at the end of the last ask I pasted up there. Hmm. And yet...

You came back, over and over and over again? :’)

RIGHT ON ALL ACCOUNTS! So... how do TWENTY ASKS, after claims that you’d finally stop, count as “regret”? You’re not changing at all, anon, because YOU DON’T WANT TO. You don’t, to this day, see what you did wrong. You don’t get it. And you won’t get it. So how about we just keep going with the next four?

Oh! But hey, you actually switched blogs this time. Super sweet of you to finally listen to ONE thing I said. Very nice.

I’ll just point out: I received the last NINE asks I’ve pasted here in a SINGLE DAY.

Nine. In one day.

I only ever got that many asks in a single go during review parties (admittedly, there were more than that, but still). The fact that you felt the need to send me NINE ASKS, to beg for forgiveness with a completely dishonest apology, is all the proof of harassment anyone could possibly ask for, right? If you weren’t an anon and at least had the GUTS to own up to your opinions, which you seem to consider absolutely sacred and completely correct, you’d have never gotten away with this. Ergo why you don’t have those guts, and why you keep sending anon reviews and asks too.

The fact that you’re so obsessed with this problem, to the point of believing Sokka’s best sex was with JUNE? We’ve literally finished an entire arc of Sokka and Azula banging across the Fire Nation with no restraint, with the two of them repeatedly remarking this is the best time they’ve ever had, and you’re so completely obsessed with this problem that you apparently think Sokka angrily fucking someone WHILE DECEIVING HIMSELF INTO THINKING IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE is... better? Are you FOR REAL? Are you seriously THAT BAD at reading?

Please, click here. I can’t even stand it anymore. It’s not even for my own sake but yours. You need it.

Also... you’re projecting so bad. Like, so bad. June’s teasing in that chapter is 100% intended to piss them off. The fact that she starts asking for Azula to lend her her “second boyfriend”, AKA Rui Shi, should tell you just how much stock June puts in what happened between her and Sokka: SHE DOESN’T GIVE A DAMN. She’s honestly more entertained by pissing off Azula as a consequence of it than over the sex she had with Sokka, especially considering she even lost her temper with him after he started apologizing in 28. You’re so completely beside yourself you can’t see ANYTHING clearly?

If you REALLY need it spelled out, no, Sokka wasn’t June’s best sex. June has probably done anyone and everyone she ever wanted to, and chances are she absolutely found someone, or several someones, who actually wanted HER, for HER, just as much as she may have wanted them. And that, you insecure mess of a human being, would absolutely make for a much better lay than what she got with Sokka. Why don’t I outright state this in the story, you’ll ask? Because despite what you may believe, this story ISN’T a love triangle between Azula, Sokka and June! Oh my, the horror! We’ve literally spent 198 chapters building up the story and developing Azula and Sokka’s relationship but the ONE TIME encounter with June apparently makes her that pivotal for your whole existence?

Dude, I literally don’t look at 28 AT ALL these days, because I don’t care to. Because even when I wrote it, it hurt me so bad having written it that I was crazy about getting to everything else so I could put it behind me. Whenever I reference it, I do the same way I reference ANYTHING ELSE. The only person who seems to think I’m doing it to further torture anyone IS YOU. 

And yes, did I just say it hurt me too? Oh, my, what a SHOCKER! The fact is, that scene is only as intense as it is because I literally couldn’t bring myself to write it. It wasn’t until it came to mind that Sokka COULD imagine Azula in June’s place that I finally found the way to do it: it wasn’t just Sokka imagining Azula instead, it was ME. Because if it had been anything else? I wouldn’t have been able to write it at all. I basically wrote it as hatesex Sokkla because I NEEDED to in order to write it. “THEN WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE IT?!?!?”, you’ll scream, I’m sure: BECAUSE I TREAT MY CHARACTERS AS HUMAN BEINGS WHO MAKE MISTAKES AND DO THINGS THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE. BECAUSE SOKKA WAS IN A DARK PLACE AND DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT AZULA WAS FEELING OR THINKING. BECAUSE AZULA WAS IMPULSIVE AND CONTROLLING AND COULDN’T REALIZE THAT THE MORE SHE TRIED TO FORCE SOKKA TO BEND TO HER WILL, THE MORE HE WOULD TRY TO BREAK FREE.

But all this is clearly too complex for you. Can’t even fathom understanding anything remotely close to characterization and conflict within relationships, no. You’re something else entirely.

And so, we move on to the post-apology Anon: you DO realize that forgiveness is something earned? I mean, it’s kinda funny because Sokka actually earned his own. He spent ages working for it, and even AFTER Azula told him he was forgiven, he still feels so bad about having hurt her that, to this day, he regrets it. Being FORGIVEN was not a condition for him to feel remorse. He regretted his actions because HE KNEW THEY WERE WRONG. Because he’s an actual, decent human being who, when faced with a catastrophic mistake, actually wants to amend it and wishes he had acted differently despite he can’t take anything back anymore.

But you? You can’t even begin to understand what regret means. I guess another dictionary definition would help?

Definitions of regret

1. (v) feel remorse for; feel sorry for; be contrite about

2. (v)  feel sad about the loss or absence of

3. (v)  express with regret

4. (v)  decline formally or politely

5. (n)  sadness associated with some wrong done or some disappointment

So, your attempts to beg for forgiveness fall completely flat. And I say it in plural, ATTEMPTS, because in case you think I’m daft and forgot your old reviews and asks, I didn’t: THIS ISN’T YOUR FIRST ATTEMPT TO APOLOGIZE FOR THIS BULLSHIT. I thought I should clarify that, because heh, you have claimed you won’t come back, you have claimed you’re sorry, you have said many platitudes in the past that actually had no meaning... and I could tell they didn’t, which is why I never answered them. Because there was no way someone who had exhibited such obsessive behavior would actually control themselves and get over their issues after MONTHS of persistent harassment.

And so, you didn’t disappoint, because I had zero expectations that you’d actually abide by your apologies. Empty apologies, again, because to this moment you don’t even know what you did wrong. You don’t get it. To put it in the way I did for someone else who talked to me about this mess:

You could be complaining to me about something else entirely. You could be here, demanding that I explain why I’ve been writing Sokka killing people, for instance. You could be disregarding all sense, reason, historical precedents and what-have-you as to why a warmongering, canonically genocidal nation like the Fire Nation would ever have a system like the Gladiator League and enslave other cultures to do their bidding. 

And if you came back with those complaints PERSISTENTLY, FOR A YEAR, I’D BE JUST AS ANGRY AS I AM NOW.

It’s NOT about the situation you’re throwing a fit over. It’s NOT about me having it out for you. It’s about YOU not knowing limits or boundaries, going as far as you constantly, consistently have, ever seeking to twist my story into whatever warped, fucked up perception you’ve developed over it, without ever slowing down to think that your actions and your behavior are affecting someone else. I’m not just a rambling robot who can’t seem to stop talking or writing or whatever you may think I am: I’m an actual person with a FUCKLOAD of problems, who literally just had the WORST year of her life, and you just decided to continue adding to the pile, never slowing down to consider that your feelings, and your opinions, and your pain, does NOT invalidate other people’s, let alone does it make you EXEMPT of hurting others. Which, heh, if you knew how to read, you could’ve even LEARNED this from Gladiator! :’D 

Because Azula, so hurt as she was, took to hurting Sokka too, in many, many ways. And Sokka, once he understood how wrongly he had judged Azula, simply let her hurt him because he thought he deserved everything she threw at him. Later on? Azula realizes all the pain she caused Sokka COULD have led him to choose the White Lotus over her. She’s in a life-or-death situation, unable to fight back, and the ONLY reason she doesn’t get screwed over and captured by the enemy is because Sokka decides she matters more to him than joining forces with sketchy people who are out for revenge. But what if she’d hurt him more than she had? What if she’d done WORSE than she did? Maybe he would’ve been so hurt too that, at this point, he would’ve chosen the White Lotus and not only abandoned her but handed her over to her nation’s enemies! :’) oh, the horror. Is it really that unthinkable? Why, it’s not to me. And why not? Because if Azula had been as unforgiving and unyielding as you are, if she had been so obsessive over whatever caused her pain and refused to move on... this story would SUCK. BADLY.

Makes you wonder what that says about your mentality, doesn’t it?

Alas, after all this digression as to why your behavior is absolutely appalling to me, let’s see what you did indeed, right after your absolutely shallow apology that was obviously not sincere, because you don’t regret having bothered me at all, you just regret that I won’t abide by your whining...

Is THIS what an apologetic, remorseful person looks like? Really, now? Honestly, if Sokka were half as bad as you are, he would’ve slept with half the Fire Nation by now while constantly coming back to Azula like “Oh woops did it again, sorry!”

Yes, I can honestly make the link pretty easily. Must be why you keep assuming he’ll ever be with someone else, because if you were in his place, you would do exactly that :’) beautiful how things just come full circle, isn’t it?

That ask came as a response to another, potentially ill-intended one, potentially sent by you too. An ask I answered with a whole list of unique things Sokka has done for Azula. Not only did you NOT understand the list’s purpose despite you may have even been the one to ask for it... but you took a line directly referencing OBVIOUS events like chapters 64, 69 and 93, moments in which Azula either put a stop to opportunities where she and Sokka might have ended up going too far, and he accepted it without complaint... or Sokka himself put a stop to them, KNOWING that Azula would be taking a huge risk if she gave herself to him completely as she does from 97 onwards. That you literally took something that was SO VERY OBVIOUS, and twisted it into chapter 28 again speaks LENGTHS of how absolutely messed up your perception and interpretation of this whole story is. You have issues. Serious issues. And I’m not saying this just to be an ass, I’m saying it because it’s clear as day that if you CAN’T stop linking absolutely everything I say or do to chapter 28, whether it’s being referenced or not (and in this case, it was NOT), the problem isn’t me, IT’S YOU.

And here we go again. You are actually trying to POLICE the Sokkla fandom at this point? An ANON? And hey, you returned to the Gladiator blog! Which means you were so pissed that I didn’t answer your previous asks and your phony apology because I KNEW you’d come back that even your teeny, tiny behavioral correction was pulled back because you were MAD. And you HAD TO MAKE YOUR OPINIONS KNOWN, AGAIN.

Do tell, are you the same ass who harassed a pretty new friend I’ve made in this fandom? An honestly solid writer who happens to feature Sokka having other, prior relationships to Azula because, haha, if you work with CANON settings, that’s basically guaranteed since Sokka already has canon relationships before even knowing Azula exists? And then, even if in those experiences Sokka ends up going “... I bet it’d be better with Azula”, you STILL take this as a slight and you consider it a reason to go around harassing writers and potentially even THREATENING to report their content because you’re mad that Sokka isn’t exclusively Azula’s in every single story you pick up?

The worst part is, I actually wrote at least 2 stories in my Saturdays’ oneshots where Azula and Sokka are each other’s first everything, absolutely so. And I got nothing from you for it, not even a teeny tiny “HEY THANK YOU YOU FINALLY WROTE WHAT I WANTED TO SEE!”. No, you only come out of your hole to ATTACK writers. To tell us what to do when you think we’re not doing it right. As if you had the SLIGHTEST right to tell ANYONE what to do.

I literally have been here for EIGHT YEARS. I’ve been creating content for this ship for that long, when nobody else was anymore. I won’t take credit for the ship’s rise in popularity, despite yes, it’s far from a major ship no matter how far we’ve come... but my story didn’t reach the heights it has out of sheer dumb luck. I worked my ass off with Gladiator in every way I could to make it a story of the scope and depth it deserved to be, and the fact that people who didn’t even ship Sokkla were interested in reading the story all the same has always been something I take pride on. A ton of multishippers read this story, and support Sokkla too: neither you nor ANYONE has any right to demand or claim or pretend that someone else has no right to be part of this fandom or to set guidelines as to what their content should be. There’s LITERAL stories out there of Sokka having a goddamn HAREM, just so you know, with Azula included amongst the women involved in it... and you’re here, throwing a fit over people featuring Sokka having one-time encounters and brief relationships with other girls before committing completely to Azula.

I’ve been here, working my ass off for Sokkla, not only in writing but literally developing my art skills to the best of my ability so I could ONE DAY create the visuals and images these two evoked for me... 

And yet I don’t feel I have any right to tell ANYONE how to make their content. 

If there was a set number of words in fics or artworks someone needed to make for a ship to prove themselves worthy of obtaining the skill of GATEKEEPING, I am 100% positive I have more than outdone that limit.

And yet I DON’T play gatekeeper. I NEVER have, and I NEVER will. People can create whatever they want to create, whether I enjoy it or not is up to me, and if I DON’T enjoy it, I DON’T read it. If there’s Sokkla content out there I can’t even STOMACH? I would ignore it and move on with my life. You? You make it your whole life’s crusade to attack people over anything that tickles you wrong. That’s how it works, isn’t it?

Unless you’re planning on pulling a Scooby-Doo-esque twist where you remove your mask and reveal you were a known Sokkla fan and content creator all along, which I find ABSOLUTELY unlikely, then this means you haven’t done anything, ANYTHING, for this fandom beyond sending anonymous harassment to people who are actually taking time out of their lives to create content for this ship. The main reaction I’ve seen at you from ANY of us, whether anons like yourself or actual content creators like myself, is that you have too much time on your hands and need a better hobby. And I agree, completely.

So, where people like me and my fellow Sokkla creators are actually making content that convinces people, if not to ship it, to at least CONSIDER this ship a possibility... you’re out there, in hiding, pretending you have any right to tell us what to do and going ignored on most accounts. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: if I had any respect for someone, and they either stopped responding to me or started responding by telling me to leave them alone, I’d feel like such stain of garbage I’d never even try to interact with them again. While people absolutely can be different and react differently to things... I can’t see how, exactly, you have any respect for me when knowing you’re a problem for me has never stopped you and most likely never will.

I’ll admit, this one actually made me laugh. Like... you’re seriously trying to tell me that a sex scene was way too good and that’s why I have to change it. I actually disagree on every account, because the last time I revisited 28 I thought the scene was absolutely distant from my best work? I’ve written soooo much smut recently and literally any of those scenes kicks 28 out of any “best smut” contest by MILES. But... heh. This one, apparently, was too good.

I mean... thank you? For telling me that my smut skills are apparently that great they need to be toned down? Fascinating, really.

But again, “it sadly seems to be a too late to write chapter 28″. Sadly?

SADLY?

You can stick your sadness up where the sun doesn’t shine, dude: 

SOMEONE WHO THREW SUCH A FIT OVER THEIR REVIEWS BEING REWRITTEN SHOULD

NEVER

TELL SOMEONE ELSE THAT IT’S TOO BAD THEY CAN’T REWRITE ANY OF THEIR CONTENT.

EVER

You can’t pretend, again, that you were EVER sorry for ANY of what you did... while still trying to tell someone they should rewrite their content. Honest to gods, you’re an asshole. You are. And if you think I’m one too, great, I own up to it gladly. But you’re the one willingly intoxicating their brain with my content, only to consistently go MAD over it, and then unleash this kind of illogical nonsense right back at me. I know art can generate a myriad of responses, but I am NOT responsible for your immaturity and inability to handle serious subjects and topics that SHOULD MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. If you don’t KNOW how to deal with the fact that there’s a lot of questionable, dislikeable things in this world, then my damn story is the least of your concerns because you’re well on your way to leading a VERY miserable life, Anon. Better get ready for it, will you?

And again, the Gladiator blog. Again, pretending to be well-mannered, and also, again, using the world “sadly”, same as the ask above. Like... man, what on earth is wrong with you. Are you seriously this masochistic? Do you also drink arsenic for sport? What on EARTH brings you the belief that asking how far or how much was done between Sokka and his previous one-night-stands would help you IN ANY WAY, WHATSOEVER? 

I think I’ll answer that question, for once, with actual quotes, taken right from some of your favorite chapters, no less:

"When you and Ruon Jian got married, was he…?" she asked. Mai only raised a confused eyebrow, and Azula had the distinct feeling that Mai knew what she was talking about, but would force her to blurt it out anyways. She sighed: "A virgin."

Ty Lee's hands flew to her mouth as Mai raised her eyebrows. To Azula's astonishment, she merely shrugged.

"I don't know. I never asked," she said. Azula snorted.

"Then you're smarter than me. By far," she grunted. Mai smirked.

And as things digress there into Azula explaining what happened, let’s skip that and go straight to Mai’s direct answer:

"I've never asked Ruon Jian about whether or not he had anything serious with other girls before me because I seriously don't care," said Mai. "If I knew about it, I'd probably have a bout of jealousy like yours, I suppose… but it's in his past, and he left them behind to make me his present and his future. So, whatever he might have experienced before, with however many women there were, isn't something I'm overly concerned about."

"You're awfully mature compared to me if that's the case," said Azula, slipping her fingers through her hair again. Mai smirked.

"You've been complimenting me quite a lot today, Azula, that's not like you…"

"Shut up," Azula grunted. Mai chuckled.

:’) 

This is the only answer this ask warrants. The fact that you’re so immature and so obsessed as to want to know more about what happened with something you HATE is completely cringeworthy and absurd. If you want to get angry imagining Sokka having wild sex with every woman who crosses his path, go ahead and do it, but do us both a favor and torture yourself, and yourself alone, with those thoughts rather than coming back TWENTY TIMES to my inbox looking for MORE reasons to get angry. You’re honestly unbelievable.

You know, that reading comprehension site I linked up there? Courses, 20% off! Seriously, perfect fit for you. You need it, direly.

Like... how can someone read a story built on the premise of Azula literally defeating Sokka painfully in battle to the point he’s left unable to move, taking Sokka away from home, turning him into a slave, being objectively responsible for the WORST TWO YEARS OF HIS LIFE... and then come to my inbox asking if Azula will ever hurt Sokka?

Dude, you’re off the deep end. You can’t even pretend you have a grasp on reality if you SERIOUSLY THINK Azula has NEVER hurt Sokka. Like, seriously, it feels like you’re reading this truncated version of Gladiator that’s only chapters 28, 111, 112 and perhaps 123? Is that what’s going on?

I’ve had Sokka and Azula arguing over ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING, whether for humorous or for serious purposes, since the very beginning of the story. Their first serious falling out is LITERALLY caused by the direct conflict of their worldviews clashing in chapter 12. Their second falling out was indeed caused by women: by Azula’s discovery that Sokka didn’t want to fight women, which of course, doesn’t bother you in the least because you and I both know that’s NOT what your problem was.

I could literally run through the whole story listing every single argument they’ve had, every single time they’ve hurt each other if that’s what you want: their first time? It literally comes from a very serious argument where Sokka believed he had reached the pinnacle of his potential as a fighter and feared Azula would need someone else to achieve her goals instead of him.

AND YOU’RE SERIOUSLY HERE ASKING IF THEY’LL EVER ARGUE OVER ANYTHING ELSE.

You don’t read this story. This ask absolutely proved it to me. You only read chapter 28 and everything potentially connected to Sokka having anything with other women. You don’t CARE about anything else, simply. Because if anything actually had ANY impact on you? You’d say something about it. But the only thing that touches your weird heart is Sokka sleeping with anyone else or having any potentially romantic interactions with someone else, whether he rejects them or not. 

You don’t care about Gladiator. You only care about your ego, and the validation of your worldview and puritanic morals.

And to that I say, fuck that noise. I write whatever the hell I want to write, and you’re not going to rope me into playing it safe just to please insecure harassers who don’t know boundaries and are completely incapable of empathizing with anyone while demanding everyone should understand their feelings.

Final note on this matter: you, also, have no idea what love is. You plain and simple don’t understand it. You’re even more confused by what love should be than Azula was at the start of this story. You don’t get it, AT ALL.

All you want is for them to get even on things? You literally asked me, when I was in my angry spree of deleting your bullshit, to make Azula and her future husband have happy consensual quality sex with who knows how many orgasms... because it was only fair!

AGAIN: YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND LOVE IN THE LEAST.

If you think love is about getting even, you’re seriously an asshole. If you think love is about both people being 100% equal in social regards and experiences, you don’t even UNDERSTAND human relations. Do you live in a bubble, by any chance? Maybe you do! You must have zero contact with anyone other than people with your same puritanic beliefs, right? So that means you assume everyone who’s different from you is fundamentally a bad person? I take it?

Like... literally at this point I think you’d hear about someone who was abused in their childhood, molested, and your reaction would simply be “Oh wow I hope someone molests whoever they end up marrying too, so that way they may be even in the future and been molested by the exact same number of people, otherwise it’s not really love”.

This is fucking sick. I’m not holding back at this point, it’s SICK. It’s TWISTED. It’s VILE. Your mentality is absolutely repulsive to me. You don’t know what love is, and you have the most literal, obvious change to understand it better by reading this story properly, but instead you just read chapter 28 over and over and over again, isn’t that right?

And here’s the evidence of that. You really want me to answer that last question?

No, it doesn’t bug me to read that AT ALL. Because unlike you? I don’t obsessively reread 28 while disregarding everything else in the story. Unlike you, I don’t revisit the chapter every day to pick apart every line to look for reasons to get extra angry at those developments.

Most of us, when faced with things we DON’T like in fiction? We move past it. You, instead, dig yourself into a hole and continue digging, and then pretend to hold other people responsible for whatever impact this may be having on your psyche. Because yes, you’re holding me responsible for whatever trauma or insecurity this is awakening inside you when you continue to pester me as you have: if you’re an adult, you should have the tools and brains to determine what is and what isn’t acceptable behavior, as well as to curate your own experiences with media, with fandom, with EVERYTHING to do with these communities. If you choose to look for things to hate instead of things to love, THAT’S ON YOU.

And if you’re allegedly looking for things to love but can’t find ANY that suit your purposes (which... is bullshit. Clearly, your only priority is “Sokka must be a virgin who never had anything with anyone else”, and such stories DO exist, which I guarantee considering I’ve written at least THREE of them, where it’s absolutely stated that Sokka’s first and only one is Azula)...

Well, it’s funny. Because when I got here? I was looking for some very specific fics so I could explore whether or not Sokkla made any sense. And I didn’t find them.

Which resulted...

... In me writing the very stories I wanted to see.

Oh, my. Imagine taking your impulses and channeling them into something productive rather than looking for reasons to get angry 24/7! Must be such a NOVEL CONCEPT for you!

Seriously, you have no right to dictate what anyone does. Again, worth bringing up because you INSIST on the rewriting matter. Even if you’re claiming you’re done asking for it, you somehow KEEP bringing it up. And then you act like me mentioning 28′s events here or there in the story is absolutely outrageous... but you just go right on ahead and do the same thing yourself, don’t you? Funny how much of a hypocrite you really are, isn’t it?

The fact that you’re bringing up something I have NEVER written, and have NO INTENTIONS of ever writing, as some sort of stupid, ridiculous argument to be made AGAINST the post I literally reblogged TODAY... is just absurd beyond belief.

The fact that I ever even wrote Sokka cheating on Suki with Azula, which I DID, still bothers me. Because yes, it made for a good story, but the truth is, it doesn’t sit well with me. It worked in The Reason, worked in my collab story with a friend, but it doesn’t mean I feel 100% happy with that choice. Even if the cheating only amounted to a kiss in The Reason, and then a lot worse than just that in the other story, it’s still not cool! :’) I know this!

... And yet no one, NO ONE, has ever caught me writing Sokka cheating on Azula. In fact, when my collab story with my friend seemed to start moving towards that angle I BEGGED her not to do it, and then she didn’t, and my heart was deeply relieved and blissful for it. Because not only did it mean we wouldn’t have to deal with the very controversial and unsettling notion of someone in a good relationship cheating on their significant other... but because in that story, it also showed how much he had grown, and how he was truly devoted to Azula despite he hadn’t been to Suki.

But alas, I have my qualms with that concept, of course I do. And I don’t like it. Ergo, I’ll never write it.

Which begs the question as to WHY, exactly, you’re so obsessed with the notion of Sokka cheating on Azula? Like... do you get off on it? Are you wanking at the idea of Sokka and June every single night and then wake up feeling like crap and then take it out on me, by any chance? Is that what’s going on? Because I’m seriously starting to believe it is.

You clearly don’t understand anything about storytelling, which is probably why you don’t have the guts to create your own content in the first place. But the fact that I reblog a post about how conflict in a story is GOOD, and your first thought is “THEN THAT MEANS YOU APPROVE OF SOKKA CHEATING!” actually says A LOT MORE about you than it says about me. You need help. Clearly, the therapy site I was sending you to the last time wasn’t much good, was it? I guess you just ignored it in the end. Hopefully the reading comprehension one will suit you better, right?

Fuck you, seriously, for coming to someone who has been working this hard for this long, for a ship that they’re completely devoted to, to spout this kind of senseless shit. To think you seriously ever believed I’d accept your half-assed apologies when you’ve been doing this sort of bullshit for this long... you’re a piece of work. If you have the time to write that BULLSHIT into my inbox, at the very least use that time to look INWARD and ponder just what your damn problem is, resolve it on your own, AND LEAVE ME THE HELL OUT OF IT. Someone as immature and unstable as you has no business reading M-rated fiction, and I honestly rue the day you ever clicked my story. Both your life and mine would be countless times better if you simply had scrolled past it.

And on and on we went today. The THREE MORE ASKS that arrived as I was typing this insanely long response. Which resulted in you bumping the total, successfully, to 20. MIGHTY NICE OF YOU TO PROVE ME RIGHT! :’)

Now then, getting serious here... I must say your priorities are fucked. Like. Really fucked.

You’d rather Sokka tries to KILL AZULA than have a one-time sexual encounter with someone?

Like... you’re here, condoning VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN to that extent...? :’D and then you... you actually have the balls to whine because apparently him  hurting her feelings is WORSE?!

Are you EVEN LISTENING TO YOURSELF???

You know, I think I have to offer you some REALLY good advice right now: go watch Naruto. Seriously, all of it. Go watch it, and enjoy your sweet loins’ release once Sasuke and Sakura start trying to kill each other, ONLY TO END UP TOGETHER AT THE END! :’) They were both 100% faithful to each other too, in the sense of Sakura getting depicted as a girl who can’t ever get over the guy she had a crush on when she was 6, no matter if he tries to kill her or her friends once he starts to go off the deep end, and Sasuke getting depicted as a guy who treats everyone like garbage, even the people he loves, because his manpain story somehow validates him being absolutely toxic to everyone he knows, so that’s absolutely up your alley! 100% the love story you’ve been looking for! You’re gonna LOVE IT.

Man, I just can’t believe you. I really can’t believe you. You’re seriously asking me to feature Sokka trying to kill Azula because that’s more acceptable to you. There was a story out there, you know? With Azula basically using Sokka to commit suicide, impaling herself on his sword and dying? You should just go look for that too, perfect fit for you (though it may be gone from the depths of this wretched site by now, which tbh I’d be grateful for, since it was the most unsettling, disturbing read).

Also? Thank you, truly, for all  the remarkably shallow compliments you’ve thrown at me to “soften” your “criticism” (which, again, is whining, not legitimate criticism). Calling me a capable writer is super NICE of you, especially after all these months of persistent harassment and constant repetition that I should rewrite whatever you don’t like. I mean... that’s definitely the way someone treats a capable writer, isn’t that right? 

“The problem isn’t conflict it’s what the conflict is”, the anon says. I’ve been writing a story for 8 years, 198 chapters and counting... and I’ve had a ton of different types of conflicts for Sokka and Azula to deal with. If your problem is “I don’t like this conflict”, FINE. But... hey. There have been THOUSANDS of other sources of conflict across the story, so many I don’t think I can even promise I’d ever take my time to count them all... there’s whole ARCS with conflicts regarding world politics and the war’s consequences and both Azula and Sokka completely changing their worldviews as they realize their realities are soooo much more complicated than they ever knew...!

Ergo. There ARE other conflicts. There are SO MANY of them that there’s no point in even listing it all out.

And yet you are obsessed with the one conflict you didn’t like, outright acting like THIS IS THE ONLY CONFLICT THERE EVER WAS, as proven by that preposterous and mindless “when will Azula ever hurt Sokka” ask. The one development you were pissed at, because it tickled your loins the wrong way. Oh yes, I’m a capable writer, I could’ve done things differently...!

BUT I DIDN’T!

And aren’t you thrilled that I didn’t? You would be a complete nobody in this fandom if this hadn’t happened, because otherwise what would you POSSIBLY have to complain about?! To harass someone about?! You’d be SO BORED! You’d be so unknown, nobody would even be aware of your existence...!

Though.

Wait.

You’re an anon.

You’re unreachable and nobody really knows who you are.

... So never mind, you actually still are a complete nobody in this fandom and your only attempt to even take part in it is to be a negative, irritating presence that literally makes people facepalm, laugh and ridicule you to the extent I and many others have laughed at you.

And yes, that post I reblogged was 100% worth reblogging. Why? Because it hits the nail on the head:

I DIDN’T WRITE 28 SO YOU’D BE HAPPY WITH SOKKA.

I DIDN’T WRITE THAT CHAPTER TO MAKE PEOPLE THINK “OH WOW WHAT A WHOLESOME SITUATION”.

I WROTE IT BECAUSE IT WAS MEANT TO DETONATE CONFLICT AND SPEED UP CHARACTER GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT, WHICH IT DID.

And the thing is? Maybe, in the future, I’ll write other stories, just as I wrote the Saturdays’ stories, and Sokka won’t have either meaningful or worth mentioning encounters with anyone else in them. Maybe I’ll write original fiction, and there won’t be any twists like what happened in 28! 

But you will never get over this.

You will never care about any other content beyond this.

And that’s your failing, not mine.

If you would rather obsess over what makes you angry, that’s on YOU. But I’m damn sure I wrote a pretty reasonable conflict, character-wise, that was not only consistent with characterization but with the slightly darker take of the Avatarverse I’ve been working with. Not only that, but I NEVER skipped the consequences of their actions. I literally had them facing those consequences for whole arcs. Sokka assumed he’d never have a chance to be with Azula and made his peace with it, WITHOUT EVER PRETENDING HIS DEVELOPING FEELINGS FOR AZULA WERE ANYTHING THAT ENTITLED HIM TO HER LOVE IN RETURN. But oh, that’s too complex for you to understand, isn’t it? The fact that Sokka actually loves Azula for her, and not for himself, that he devotes himself to her in every imaginable way, that he fights people who dare disrespect her, that he would stop at NOTHING, even coming close to killing someone, to keep her safe despite he’s completely against killing people? That all means NOTHING to you.

And again? THAT’S YOUR PROBLEM. THAT’S YOUR FAILING. THAT YOU’RE SO OBSESSED WITH 28 AND CAN’T MOVE PAST IT IS NOT MY FAULT, IT’S YOURS.

Because I damn right moved past it. I’ve moved so far past it I literally don’t ever THINK about that damn situation until your stupid asks start arriving. Heck, maybe if you didn’t ASK so much about it, I’d stop bringing it up in recent chapters of the story :’) how do you feel about that particular kernel of unexpected information? Maybe you’re impacting the story in a whole shocking manner by inception-ing 28 into my head all the time and that’s why I can’t seem to stop throwing in lines referencing it for you to go completely BONKERS over. How about that? :’)

Say... how exactly do you think this fic is special? Literally all I know is you think I’m a capable writer who can create something perfectly catered for you, and yet ALL the feedback I’ve ever gotten from you is “REWRITE 28 AND EVERYTHING ABOUT SOKKA HAVING ANYTHING WITH OTHER GIRLS I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS I’M GENUINELY CURIOUS THIS IS LEGITIMATE CRITICISM SIGNING OFF BYE”. Your compliments are completely devoid of meaning because they’re literally just a handful of “you’re a good writer” and you don’t even say WHY you think I’m good. You don’t ever come here to tell me how much you enjoyed a certain scene, or how happy you are with a certain development... No.

Because when Sokka and Azula got married? What did I get?

“HOW CAN YOU LET SOKKA AND AZULA GET MARRIED NOW WHEN HE SLEPT WITH SOMEONE ELSE IN CHAPTER 28?!”

I wish I had screenshots for those, but you and I both know the truth, you irksome anon, and the truth is you did exactly that. And with every new development in Shu Jing, I got yet more reviews and ask(s), persistently whining about how UNFAIR it is that now Azula apparently is locked in marriage with this unfaithful man who has been unfaithful to her a grand total number of ZERO TIMES ever since their relationship began! How DARES he even think about marrying her?! Scourge of earth, let’s murder him in cold blood because DEATH IS BETTER THAN CHEATING!!!

If you think highly of Gladiator for ANY REASON, you’ve kept those reasons well and safely tucked away in the depths of your broken heart or shared them with anyone but me. Look at all these asks, damn you, and tell me at what point in time did you convey ANYTHING beyond “why don’t you write what I want you to write?”, huh? Because hell, I don’t see it in any of them. Literally nowhere. No backwards (: emojis are compliments or evidence of how much this story allegedly means to you. All I know is that you hate 28 and everything about it.

And you see...

I don’t give a flying fuck. 

I don’t.

You can hate 28 all you want.

You can hate June.

You can hate Sokka.

It is, INDEED, a free world.

But you have no right, NONE WHATSOEVER, to commit to this level of harassment as you have, for A WHOLE YEAR, and pretend the problem is that I, Seyary, the “evil super-sensitive author who writes Sokka sleeping with other people and doesn’t even break a sweat but then crumbles to pieces when “negative” feedback arrives”, can’t handle your comments properly.

I’ve said it before, damn you: NO ONE NEEDS TO REITERATE THEIR OPINIONS A MILLION TIMES. NO ONE. NOT YOU, NOT THE PEOPLE DEMANDING FOR THE PLOT TO KICK INTO HIGH GEAR, NOT THE ONES WHO THINK THIS SHIP IS GARBAGE, NOT ANYONE.

NO ONE HAS ANY RIGHT OR REASON TO COME BACK PERSISTENTLY THORUGHOUT A YEAR TO HARASS SOMEONE NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES THEY’RE TOLD TO STOP IT.

Point being: HATE WHAT YOU WILL! But keep it the fuck off my blog. And if you CAN’T? Get used to these responses. Because you’re going to get them, constantly. I guarantee it.

I know your damn opinion already. I know it by heart and I damn wish I didn’t. You are perfectly free to go read all the other stories where I’ve had Sokka staying faithful to Azula, with Azula being his first, or with Azula being much more experienced and sleeping around while Sokka stays mostly chaste... but you don’t. You come back, every time, to my miserable inbox that must cry every time you show up in it, to make these demands and pretend you have any power over what I should be writing.

Again, no, I have no idea why this story matters to you at all. And at this point? I’d rather NOT know. Because I’m 100% sure the only thing that matters most to you is chapter 28. So you know, go ahead, wank to it again and cry yourself to sleep. It’s kind of fascinating to have written something that has such a visceral emotional impact on a complete and total stranger. Makes it clear I’ve made a lot of progress as a writer if I can fuck up someone’s life to this extent with what I’ve written.

Yeah. Sure. You really think I’ll buy it? You really think this is goodbye? Oh, no, Anon. You can’t stay away. You’ve been told to, you’ve been asked to, but you can’t.

So no, I’m not wishing you good luck back. And I’m certainly not wishing you any fun with my fic, because it’s more than clear that the only source of entertainment it provided you was chapter 28, seeing as it’s the only impactful thing I apparently ever wrote. And someone who’s that obsessed with one of the chapters I most disliked writing despite I knew the plot would benefit from it in the long run simply can’t deserve to have fun. So... good suffering over Gladiator, if anything? Go ahead and continue to wrack your brain while trying to unravel why, oh, why would ANYONE ever write what I wrote and still call themselves a Sokkla shipper?! 

I dunno, maybe go on and write something similar yourself. Could be you’ll finally figure out what your problem is if you take to writing the cheating storylines you’re so very much obsessed with. Only, heh, I can guarantee I’m not touching anything you write, out of principle more than anything. I plain and simple don’t want anything to do with you... but as I don’t intend to close my inbox again, it seems I have no choice, do I?

Good fucking luck sticking to this alleged goodbye... but we both know you’ll be coming back very soon, won’t you? No worries, Anon, I’ll be waiting this time. Let’s see if you can break your 20-ask-streak record next time, shall we? :’)

It’s December 13th, at 2:32 PM, in my location. Let’s see how long it takes you to come back, shall we?

EDIT: I neglected to check constantly so it definitely arrived earlier than this, but officially received a response at least 2 hours after this post went live.

Didn’t I call it? Yep, absolutely called it.

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

TITLE: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 8/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

“So, darling, would you care to explain how you forgot to shield yourself when you shielded everyone else?” Loki asked you dryly as he drove you to the tower compound where the Avengers lived.  “As I recall, that was the first thing I taught you after you acquired my powers through the soulbond.” Loki wasn’t pleased with you for forgetting that absolute basic of magic.

“It’s Uncle Tony’s fault-” you started, but hesitated, not wanting to throw Tony completely under the bus.  

“Excellent,” Loki replied with a smirk.  “I could use an excuse to punch him in the face. It is so much more satisfactory when there is a valid reason behind the punch,” Loki added wistfully. He wouldn’t actually punch Tony without a damn good reason.  And it had to be a reason that you would agree to. 

You couldn’t help laughing. “You can’t rough him up too badly or Pepper will kill you,” you reminded him. He laughed at that and acquiesced that Pepper would indeed kill him.  A minute passed and he gave you a look, so you sighed and finally continued your story. “I’m not constantly assigned on patrols like most of the rest of the supers��until last month anyway. When I am, I’m always on Tony’s team. You know how Tony is. He only assigns me as support, shielding the others, dampening fires, and healing mostly. So I’ve gotten so used to shielding everyone else while Tony insists I stay away from the danger, that I got out of the habit of making the shields big enough to include me,” you explained. It was really annoying, especially when you were the strongest super on the team. 

“Your uncle is an idiot,” Loki replied dryly.  Tony had messed with your instincts and training until you put yourself in danger.

“Agreed,” you grumbled, twisting the stupid metal bangle around your wrist and imagining all of the fun ways you would destroy the damn thing the second you got it off again.  You hated restraints, though you knew the tower kept a stock of them for villainous supers.

“See that you do not forget again to shield yourself first,” Loki grumbled at you.

“I won’t. I promise. One painful reminder is enough,” you added. Your ribs and arm were still sore and bruised. Battlefield healing was not thorough at all. It was only meant to make sure the combatants could keep fighting until the battle was over. You glared at the metal bangle on your wrist while Loki drove. “Why did I let you do this again?” you asked him grumpily. You really hated being weak or helpless.

“Because I asked nicely, unlike your idiot uncle. You are also intelligent enough to realize that your idiot uncle and I are correct in the assessment that you are about to drop from exhaustion and overwork. You are also smart enough to admit that the healers will guilt you into helping them when you should be resting, because they take advantage of your kindness,” he replied too logically. He was too flattering, but he was also right. You huffed and grumbled.  You hated it, but he was right. 

Why did he have to be right?

You soon pulled up to the residents’ parking at the compound and went to go find your actor friends. It wasn’t hard. They were all outside the tower, using the outside of the building for their filming. You were waved over and greeted with cheers when they crew saw you. You were amazed at how many people they had dressed as Loki and Sigyn. You spotted Tom in the crowd of Lokis and grabbed your Loki’s hand so you wouldn’t lose him before daring to aim that way.

“What’s going on?” you asked Tom once you were close enough to him. You saw Kelly nearby, surrounded by all of the Sigyns.

“We’re shooting a scene where we Loki is using illusions,” Tom explained, indicating all of the doubles.  “I thought you two would have fun with us,” he added with a grin.  Tom was too much like his character at times and had too much mischief about him. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Loki,” he addressed the god, polite as ever.

Loki bowed in reply. “Likewise,” he replied with a grin, excited for the bit of fun and mischief.

“How has the game of ‘which one’s Tom’ gone so far?” you asked. Tom always loved that game. 

Tom laughed. “Wonderfully. This was a terrible idea on their part,”

“Kat! Why aren’t you answering your phone? Where are you? You’re supposed to be resting!” you heard a roaring yell that was unmistakable as Uncle Tony’s. You looked over at where the yelling was coming from. He was on his phone and obviously hadn’t spotted you yet. You were glad you had turned your phone’s ringer off.  You made a mental note to delete that voice mail without listening to it.  

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath. “He’s going to find us.” You did not want Tony finding you yet. 

Loki just grinned mischievously. “Not in this crowd, he won’t,” he whispered in your ear. He used illusions so your outfits appeared to match the costumes of the others. “Go blend in with the others. We’ll hide in plain sight.” you nodded and went over to the other Sigyns, standing so your back was to Tony. It was the only time you ever blended in because of your hair.

“What did you do?” you heard Tom ask Loki quietly, wondering why Tony was so upset with you both.  

“Saved the lives of ten or so civilians,” Loki replied dryly.

“Terrible offense that,” Tom replied just as dry and sarcastically.  You couldn’t help chuckling and made a mental note to keep those two from being alone for too long. They really shouldn’t be alone at all. 

You got cast as extras for the scene, which is what Tom and Kelly thought would happen when they asked you to join them there today. They slipped you copies of their scripts too. You weren’t supposed to speak, just be extras and stand with the other ‘illusions’ and look pretty. That got shot out the window once the crew realized who you and Loki really were.

Tony finally got smart enough to realize that you and Loki were possibly hiding among the actors. Unfortunately, he decided this while you were pretending to be Tom and Kelly and were the Loki and Sigyn acting out the scene. You tried so hard to keep a straight face while Tony started berating a Sigyn, who very much wasn’t you.

“Sorry, I’m not Kat!” she told him with a grin. He growled and went to harass someone else.

“Why don’t you run?” Kelly hissed in your ear, watching Tony patrol looking for you in the crowd.

“I can’t. My powers are shot right now,” you admitted. If it was anyone besides your friends, you wouldn’t have dared say that you didn’t have your powers. “I was hoping he wouldn’t find us until he calmed down some. I should probably give yourself up before he gets too pissy,”

“Not yet. Go do the kiss scene first. I’ll distract him for a little while,” she told you reassuringly. She pushed you out to where they were getting ready for the kiss scene. You had the feeling that was the real scene they wanted you and Loki for. 

Your costume was a halter dress, leaving both of your arms bare, and Loki’s costume had short sleeves for this scene. They also really wanted the soulbond mark in their movie apparently and just didn’t want to ask you outright to be in the movie. So the crew pretended they didn’t know who you really were as they positioned you for the scene. You’d be quietly paid a large sum on the backend for your work.   They thankfully didn’t actually touch us and break Loki’s illusions when Loki gave them the warning that you couldn’t be touched. 

You really didn’t mind kissing your boyfriend for twenty minutes to get the kiss scene just right.  That was an excellent use of your day.  Loki seemed to mind oh so much too. They filmed you from every angle and it should have been embarrassing, but you had missed Loki so much that you were way more interested in kissing him than in the cameras trained on you.

After the scene Tony waded in and caused more trouble. He gathered up all of the Lokis and Sigyns, including yourself and the real Loki. You were doomed then, especially as he was still raging. “Kat, Loki, you can’t hide forever,” Tony growled. “Now which ones are you?” you were a little insulted he couldn’t pick you out from all of the others.

“I am Loki!” Tom announced in his perfect Loki accent, stepping forward.

“I am Loki!” one of the extras announced, stepping forward as well. Tony growled when all of the Lokis, including yours, stepped forward to announce that they were Loki. It was hilarious and you had to fight not to laugh. Tony finally started thinking straight and turned to the group of Sigyns instead. You knew you were caught then. There was no way he wouldn’t recognize his niece.

The girls tried pulling the same stunt for you, but it didn’t work. The second he caught your eye, he knew. “Thanks for trying,” you told them. Tony was so pissed that you were actually scared of him. You’d never been scared of him, but his anger was radiating off of him, and you didn’t have your powers to defend yourself. You prayed that he would remember that before he did something stupid.

Like throw you through a wall again.

Tony grabbed your arm and dragged you from the group of Sigyns. The illusion on you vanished the moment he touched you.  The actors wandered off to pretend to not be paying attention, and actually do the work they were being paid for. The game was over. “What were you thinking?” Tony demanded. “You’re supposed to be resting!” he roared at you. You felt yourself shrink away from his roar, but you couldn’t, wouldn’t cower from him. 

You straightened your spine and glared up at him.

“What were we supposed to do? Let those people die?” you demanded, reaching your other arm around to the small of your back where your enchanted dagger sheath was, just in case this conversation went poorly. 

You wasn’t defenseless.

Even without your powers, you weren’t defenseless.

“Why were you even in that situation?” he roared back.

“We went out for breakfast and there was a car crash! We didn’t plan it,” you snarled at him. You couldn’t control everything around you. That sadly wasn’t one of your powers.

You saw his hand curl into a fist and acted before you could even think about it. You had a dagger drawn and held between us, in a defensive posture in an instant. You had practiced so much with the daggers that drawing one was instinct and effortless. You realized that right that, you didn’t and couldn’t trust Tony, not with the power between you so out of balance. Tony would never hurt you on a normal day, but his anger was out of control.  His anger was created by fear for you, but it had still gone out of control.

Tony’s eyes grew wide when he realized, when he realized he had really truly scared you. His anger evaporated at once. You had the feeling that might have been Loki’s plan the entire time, to try to get Tony’s anger under control before you had to deal with him. “Kat, I’m sorry,” he said softly, letting you go. “I wouldn’t. I swear I wouldn’t-”

“You have before,” you reminded him, taking a step back and moving your free arm to the sheath at your back. Just in case. He had hit you once before when his temper got the better of him. He hadn’t meant it then either, and it was only because Loki was there that you had healed from that experience. It was before you had powers of your own.

“He will not again, darling,” Loki said, stepping away from the actors. He had let you fight your own battle, since he knew that you could. He stepped between you and Tony, shielding you from your uncle. “You can put the dagger away, love. I’m quite sure your uncle would like to have a nice calm conversation about this morning with us inside,” he suggested pleasantly.

“That’s one of the first decent ideas you’ve had,” Tony replied, trying desperately to sound calm and jovial, trying to ease your mind with his tone. You weren’t entirely convinced, still on edge without your powers, but you sheathed the dagger anyway.

“Can I get a shower before you yell at us? I think I still have blood in my hair,” you grumbled. You were still grungy and gross from battle and covered in cuts, scrapes, and a couple of ugly bruises. Loki had hidden them with illusions for playing with the actors.

“Fine,” Tony grumbled. “But don’t disappear. Hang out here today,” he suggested.  It wasn’t really a suggestion, but he was trying to make it sound like it was. 

“You’re not going to yell?” you asked. Disappearing before he could yell sounded like a good idea. 

“Just lecture. A little,” Tony replied with a smile.

“I think you can handle that,” you told him, trying to smile in return. It was hard, though.

You wrapped your arms around one of Loki’s as the three of you walked into the compound. You needed the extra security of Loki’s presence. You were feeling too unsteady without it. Part of it was exhaustion and part was your powers being bound. You really shouldn’t have used all of that power earlier, but you couldn’t have let those people die either. You and Loki headed up to the floor of the compound where your suites were. “I made sure they didn’t touch your suite,” you commented while you walked.

“Thank you for that,” he replied and seemed pleased that his room hadn’t changed.  That his second home hadn’t changed.  Loki slowed and looked down at you. “Are you alright?” his voice was full of concern. You realized you were still holding onto his arm too tightly and loosened your grip, holding his hand instead, and not squeezing it hard enough to bruise.

“Sorry. I’m feeling off today.” you admitted sheepishly. 

He kissed the top of your head. “I know, darling. You will feel better once you get some actual rest,” he insisted. He left you at the door to your suite, after checking the inside for intruders before you entered, so you could shower and change into clean clothes in peace. 

His suite was just across the hall.

Loki was home.  You both were. It felt strange after all this time, but it felt right at the same time.

[survivingyellow]

I Defeated the Wizard

I know that most likely no one reads my blog anymore because I am not very active on here. Which sucks because I really do have the heart to write. Just not all the time I would like to have. On that note, if you are currently reading this, I am happy that you are tuned in. I am happy you are alive and breathing. I am so relieved that you haven’t given up on me and my failed attempts at being consistent. And lastly, I appreciate all or even just little old you sitting on the other side of this screen. A lot has happened lately. Things I would really like to update you on so you know that I haven't just been out here dillydallying around. So let’s get started.

It’s been so long since I've talked to you all that I literally only have 4 more months back home until I drive up for my final summer in NY. But since I have been home, I was living alone in one of the houses that my parents owned and were renting out to me. But I was never home and one of my closest friends wanted me to move in with her and her boyfriend. So I did, I met a pretty cool guy named Jay that was her neighbor and we would sit on the back porch almost every night and smoke together. It was definitely nice to have someone to talk to and build a friendship with. I also started to party a little too much to try to keep up with all of my friends, even though I would much rather be sober to be able to drive my car and smoke a cigarette. Instead of drinking so much that I called Jvans a half of a dozen times to tell him how much he hurt me before I went to boot camp. (uh, rough). Still working on the food truck, coaching my nieces soccer team with Claire, and still trying to figure out what the fuck it is that I would like to start pursuing in life to actually get this thing up and running’. 

Things were going pretty good, but I realized just how much I think I hate having roommates. Because when you move into a house or apartment or whatever it is, with your best friend and her NEW boyfriend- they want their space. They started to not want to hangout with anyone. Isolating themselves because of their own insecurities. While still (I believe unknowingly) taking advantage of me and how much I would do for them because I supported them each and every way I possibly could. By the end of me living there, I had started talking to Alberto, who is also now my new roommate (literally). Not gonna lie, things have not been easy dating him the past few months. But just like anything good in life, it takes hard work. Berto is amazing, but just like any real person in this world, he has his problems. We have days where we fight, days where we love, days where we just don’t talk- but still know that the other person is always there if we need anything. We plan on moving to California hopefully within a year or so and have started to save up for it. Living together hasn't been easy (especially because we are still kinda new) But we are taking it day by day and not rushing into anything crazy right now. Because we are both gonna live for a very long time, and honestly... I know for damn sure that I am going to be spending a very very large portion of my life with him by my side if not all of it. So hurting all those times, crying into my pillow, or screaming at my steering wheel, being self conscious in public while I'm by myself and I was around couples... all of those times where worth it. Because I’m walking outta of the dating game with the biggest prize of them all. (A while back I wrote about a boy named David Bell, and how he is super busy so he would never have time to read my blog posts- I want to correct myself by saying that if a person doesn't have time to pay attention to the little things that you love- don’t. waste. your. time. babygirl.// Oh, and lemme tell you that David Bell did in fact. waste. my. time. thanks for the lesson though buddy :) Because Beto, I love the fuck outta you big boi. And that, my friend... that is never going to change. 

I have experimented with psychedelic's and started to understand myself a little more, I believe. Been studying wicca, working real real hard on my art, and smoking a lot to keep from trying to rush through life. (Progress, ya know?)

In the past few months I have met a lot of new people, some that I am super super happy came into my life, some that I feel like I could have went my whole life without knowing, and some that I know life would be hard to live without. I started to work at a restaurant until 2 days in when I had an epiphany that just because I have always worked in the food business- doesn't mean that I have to do that my whole life. And that no, I might have not been dealt with great cards. I may have just skimmed through to get my diploma and never applied to colleges. While I may not have had parents to help me out financially or the determination to do it on my own until now. But just because the past is definite, doesn't mean the future is. Make it your own. Make it different. (damn I sound like a Disney ad) But honestly, that’s all you can really do. I wake up now with a promise of hope to myself that everyday I will practice my arts and passions. To create my life as an artist, as a flexible, free, billowing soul. Held back with no restraints and ready to take on the world. Take your dreams seriously and get back up. You only have so much time left here before you don't get to dream anymore. 

The world is such a hard place. With so many bad people in it. People that drain you, that make you feel worthless. With times that are going to literally suck the life out of you. But because the world is a hard place, it just means you have to work 10x harder to get to where you want to go. That means that I quit that expediting job and hired myself. Taking 4-5 hours a day instead of picking up extra money, I am investing on myself and dreams to finally try to get this fucked up life back on track. I am always going to have a job on Poppy’s (as long as I keep a good attitude) as long as it exists that is. So I might as well take the cards that I was dealt with and use them well. I am going to make it out there, I have to. 

Now, I’m not using all of these experiences and excuses but as you can see, I have been a little preoccupied. And yes, there have been a lot of times lately where there is no one in this entire world that I would like to talk to other than to sit down and talk to you guys one on one. But just haven't had the strength, courage, will, or power to do so because I have just been so. fucking. broken... 

But I’m here now, and that's what matters. Struggling together like real adults. And as a growing, passion filled, beautiful, young adult with stars in her eyes, a crazy ongoing life, and enough love in her to keep the world runnin’ I encourage you to never. not once. give up on becoming the person that you are meant to become because your energy was strong enough to be created, and your dumb to think that death is even slightly equivalent to the strength it would take to kill your soul. I know what you are. And With that being said, I hope you all take this and stride. Contributing to making our home (earth) a better place, sharing your experiences, stories, and love with everyone you get the chance to help, and taking all these dumb dog food problems like a champ, getting back out there to get your prize, insistently trying to prosper on your own and killin’ it all with your bad self

Till Next Time

-Jance

[egotheplanet]

Deadpool 2 Characters Sparring with their S/O HCs

(I DO NOT OWN THESE GIFS)

Deadpool/ Wade Wilson 

He’s very hands on with your learning.

By hands on, I mean his hands never leave your body when you’re fighting him. 

“Wade, we aren’t supposed to be wrestling. We’re supposed to be-“

“On the ground fucking already? I’m working on it, gummy-bear.” 

His bizarre nicknames for you alternate every time you see him.

You’re almost constantly wondering what the latest term of endearment is going to be.

He’d go really easy on you lest you specifically ask him otherwise.

He’d show off a lot of his own high quality moves before comically panting and relaying how little effort he exerted. 

He purposely tries to pin you in compromising positions. Constantly. 

He finally succeeds when he gets you down on your stomach while holding your hands behind your back as he straddles your legs and hovers over your butt. 

“Well, how did we end up here?” He asks, smirking and knowing exactly how you ended up there.

When you first started sparring you set up rules. 

Safe words and such.

His safe word is ‘Mamma Mia’ 

You better believe in the beginning he was hell bent on not using it, just to prove how tough he is.

One swift kick in the balls later and he’s on his knees, sputtering;

“M-Mamma mia.. here I go again.. my my!”

In hindsight he should have made a rule about his penis being off limits. 

It’s a rule from that point on. 

“No amount of super-healing can keep that shit from hurting.”

Colossus/ Piotr Rasputin

He’s very insistent on taking it easy on you 

“дорогая (darling), you know how strong I am. It is not fair to you.”

Nothing you do can convince him to go full force on you. 

Maybe after a long while of sparring together but it wouldn’t be for many months, possibly even years!

He always helps you up after he knocks you down onto the mat. 

He apologizes every time he’s about to punch or hit you. 

Which gives a clear shot at avoiding it since he basically calls out all his moves as a string of apologies.

It’s almost cheating because he does it without even realizing!

After your sparring sessions he always takes hot baths with you (yes there’s a tub big enough for both of you) to relieve tension buildup in your muscles.

He gives you massages and tries to convince you to take it easy. 

You’re not easy to persuade.

But he loves that about you. 

When you both get back into the sparring room, he’s proud of how much you’re capable of!

Your progress shows him that he’s a good instructor.

Specifically your progress with him. 

The best way to take him down is distraction!

A little tease here or there would throw him off his rhythm. It’s the Bittenbinder method.

Once he’s distracted you could grab at his legs and trip him up

He calls it fighting dirty but you call it fair since he’s a particularly difficult opponent. 

You tell him, “Your brauns vs. my brains? You’re right, Chromey-locks, it’s just not a fair fight... for you.” 

He loves your endless quips!

Loves it even more when you stay after your sessions to put the equipment away with him

When sparring, he takes it easy on you while you give it your all. The same can’t be said about your love— which is fully balanced.

Cable/ Nathan Summers

He doesn’t like taking it easy on you.

But then again he also couldn’t imagine hurting you. 

Maybe he’ll exhibit some restraint but he’d still want you to learn as much as possible

“We don’t need sparring mats because in real life there are no sparring mats.”

You always find the time to roll your eyes at him later on when he complains about a tense shoulder

“You should have used the mats.” You say.

He glares in return

You shrug, knowing you’re right. 

That’s life with Nathan, the stubborn cybernetic-futuristic man. 

You’d have to rely on speed and accuracy rather than strength when it comes to Cable. 

He’d never use his weapons when sparring, it’d be strictly hand-to-hand combat. 

But even without weapons, he’s a very worthy opponent. 

You can trust him to be honest in his corrections directed towards you;

“Your legs aren’t far enough apart.”

“Your arm is at an awkward angle, anyone would be able to break it like a stick of celery.”

“If I was an attacker I wouldn’t hesitate to kick your legs out from under you— Stop locking your knees!”

On the bright side your fighting skills have never been so keen!

Before Cable, your record for being pinned was a measly 12 seconds. 

Now it’s ranging at 34 minutes and you still have room for improvement!

At the end of the day, he takes care of you during and after your sessions. 

He always offers to give you a massage after your fights. 

You don’t always decline..

Because you know the massages always turn into something else. 

Domino/ Neena Thurman

Sparring with Neena is... difficult, suffice to say. 

Despite your nod of acknowledgment to her incredibly lucky gifts, nothing helps when being physical is required. 

Things just naturally work out for her and that’s never more obvious than when you’re both sparring. 

“Sorry, Y/N, luck isn’t something I can turn off whenever I like.” 

She feels bad that she’s constantly beating you, but she can’t control it!

Sometimes she’ll just “fall back” onto the mat so you think you won. 

You see right through her sweet little rouse. 

Wade offers to help you spar and you almost accept his offer

But Neena insists that you’re fine with her as a partner, if anything it’s just more of a challenge for you. 

“They’ll learn more if I’m the one teaching them since it’s so hard to beat me.”

More like impossible to beat her. 

You don’t really mind since it’s more time spent with her.

And besides, the harder you push yourself the more prepared you’ll be for a real battle!

Or the next time the school blows up. 

Whichever comes first. 

Her luck isn’t only in evading your hits, it’s also fueling her blows against you.

She almost NEVER misses a direct hit. 

Once, she was sure she broke your nose. After a trip to the in-school clinic, and one bag of ice later, it turned out that she just landed a good good punch. You were lucky for a change.

You didn’t care too deeply since it wasn’t serious but she was distraught.

“Y/N, I think Wade was right when he said I shouldn’t spar with you anymore. It’s just not fair! It’d be better if you take on NTW.”

You obviously disagree since you would rather take a punch to the nose than a blast to your whole body. 

She understands yet still feels bad about the whole injury-without-trying thing. 

You make it up to her later on with a nice dinner date out in the school gardens 

All is forgiven. 

Until your next spar, that is. It’s a vicious cycle of love and ice packs.

[long-bodyswap]

Oh brother

(don’t have the credits)

Chapter 1“Did you see that play?!” Macky asked me as he lovingly hugged me in his arms and lifted me into the air after scoring the winning touchdown.  He was being borderline too affectionate, and I had to hiss at him to let me down when he instinctively tried to kiss me.   “Bro!  We’re in public!  Put me down so we can take pictures.  You’ll get your reward later!” I hiss playfully into his ear.   He begrudgingly puts me down as we pose for some photos together.   “Hey Andy.” “Yeah, Bro?” I answer. “You’re the best little brother ever.  I just wanted you to know that.  I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I know what’s gonna be getting into you when we get back to the house.” “You’re the best big brother ever.  I love you, and I’m so happy to give you your victory fuck.” He gives my ass a playful squeeze, risking getting seen in public.  The element of danger makes it so hot.  Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to get back to the house.  You know, Macky sure is right- I’m the best little brother ever…or I would be if I actually was his little brother.   3 days agoSo my name is Shane and I’m just your typical gay guy who’s hopelessly in love with the high school quarterback.  I’ve never even flirted with him, but maybe I’ve had one too many lingering glances at him because Macky seems to have sniffed out my adoration.  And the worst part is for as much as he gives me hell, I don’t stop feeling this way.  I just have an instinct that he’s secretly gay, but just can’t admit it.  Either not now or not to me (the only openly gay guy in our high school) because physically I’m just not in line with his desires.  I mean after all, he’s a toned, strong, football jock and I’m an overly thin, bony, computer nerd.  I try to keep the extent of my research a secret because the nerd shit is just another bullet that Macky uses against me.  Unknown to him though, and the entire world, I may have invented something that could give me the chance to finally get close enough to him to see what he’s really like.  The running name for the prototype is Project Transfero, short for the Latin phrase, Transfero Transtuli Translatum, meaning “to transfer.”  Hey, I didn’t say poetic prototype names were my specialty.  But anyway, this device I have built will allow me to transfer my consciousness into another human being and dominate their body and mind.  If my calculations are correct, I will have access to their memories and abilities in an intuitive manner whilst still maintaining all of my essence.  I will upload my old, empty body with a basic artificial intelligence program I designed that mimics my most recognizable behaviors.  To friends and family I will appear to be completely normal, though I have severely hampered the AI’s intellect so as to avoid any technological conflicts in the future or a scary Terminator doomsday scenario.  I also have a secondary program that will surely come in handy.  But I digress… Earlier today I was thrilled beyond belief when opportunity came directly to my locker.   “Hey.  So word’s gone around you got a perfect score on the SAT.  Andy is taking the PSAT next week and I was wondering if you could help him out.  The kid’s pretty bright, but I bet a little bit of your influence and he’d be a National Merit Scholar.  I already talked to him, and he’s cool with this even though I have some concerns…” “Not a problem, Macky.  Tell him to come over at 8pm.” “Look, I appreciate your help.  I really am grateful, but…no funny business if you know what I mean…” “We’re crystal clear, Macky.  We’re just turning your bro into a national merit scholar, that’s it.” He awkwardly thanks me again before walking off to rejoin his football bros.   “Shit, that was the scariest/best moment of the week.” I speak to myself aloud.  Project Transfero is officially in motion.  “Oh we’re gonna make Andy a National Merit Scholar alright.  I’m pretty sure Andy’s gonna rocking out from now on…”As agreed, Macky’s little brother arrived at 8 pm on the dot.  He seemed exactly like a mini version of his older brother, just maybe 2 years and a growth spurt behind.  I could still instantly see a fine and sexy young man in the making.  Andy…I’ve always loved that name; it just rolls off the tongue nicely.  I invite him inside and to my relief he is a much gentler and sweeter soul than his brother.   “I want to thank you for helping me, and sorry about my bro.  He’s just over protective because our dad walked out on the family when we were young.  The guy’s only two years older than me, but he has always felt like he had to step up and take over the father role.” “That must have been tough,” I try to say nicely and thoughtfully as I hide my grin.  “Say, can I get you a drink before we start?” “Oh a sprite would be awesome man!  Thanks.” “Oh, not a problem at all,” I reply as I run to the kitchen, pour two glasses, and top his off with a clear and tasteless fluid.  Andy gulps his whole drink down right away, and I struggle to contain the excitement building up inside me as he begins losing consciousness.  His dose was sufficient that he doesn’t even process the likelihood of a spiked drink.  There is no struggle.  Instead he just says he needs a nap and plummets into a deep sleep.  Fuck.  Yeah. “ungggg…what the?  Where am I?” Andy asks groggily. Finding himself strapped to a table, he begins pulling at his restraints, soon realizing they are unbreakable.  “Dude What the fuck?!  What is this shit?!  HELP!  SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!” “Andy, I wouldn’t waste your energy.  You’ll need it if you want to put up a good fight,” I say as I finish up the final touches on the software settings.  “I hope you know this isn’t personal.” “OH MY GOD!  Are you gonna kill me?!  Is this because of Macky?  I promise he’ll be nicer to you!  Just please let me go!” “I have every intention of letting you go…once we’re done here.  Say, have you ever heard of that old saying ‘Always want what you can’t have?’” Andy doesn’t respond.  He just grits his teeth as he ferociously struggles to pull out of his straps.   “Andy, don’t worry.  This will all be over soon,” I let him know with a soothing tone as I try to place the helmet contraption on his thrashing head. “No Dude!  Get that thing away!” Andy can see that the helmet device is connected to my computer terminal.  He probably thinks I’ve built some sort of electric chair.  I like a little bit of struggle, but this is just ridiculous.  I go and grab a little solution that I concocted a while back.  It’s basically a fluid that can be sprayed like an air freshener, but breathing it causes temporary relaxation of both body and mind.  I put on a respirator, spray the thrashing Andy, and wait for the fumes to dissipate before safely removing my mask.   “Fuck man!  WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!   You won’t get away with this.  You can’t-not gonna win-son of a –piece of shit-kick your-just wait til Macky hears-stop….” And Andy’s pupils suddenly widen as he stops tugging against his bindings and just lays like a good boy on the table, breathing deeply and slowly.  “What are you going to do to me?” He asks, completely tranquil and struggling to focus on the severity of the situation.   “Just focus on how good you feel right now.  Okay, Andy?” I say as I step up onto the adjacent table and begin fitting my own helmet.   “Wait, why do you have a helmet?” Andy asks softly.   I just finished fitting the device to myself and that’s when I insert my mind-clone AI chip into the secondary input slot so it can be downloaded and run my body after my consciousness is done transferring.  “Sometimes people do crazy things for love, maybe even unethical things,” I say before clicking the launch button.   3… “Please, Shane…” 2… “What are you…” 1… “Stop…” BOOM! My head feels like a swirling hurricane as I feel myself losing my gained knowledge.  Algorithms, code, chemistry, biology, all of that is leaching out of my mind as it is ruthlessly downloaded into Andy’s brain.  I try to remain calm, but Andy is feeling overwhelmed by the sheer rush of knowledge.  In spite of the relaxant, his adrenaline is reviving his panic as he howls out and yanks on his restraints again. “NO PLEASE!  It’s too much!  I CAN’T!” he yells as he tries in vain to shake the helmet off. I continue to feel my mind hollowing out as my preferences and personality traits begin transferring into Andy, leaving me numb, but having a different effect on Andy… With all of my knowledge and research he has realized what I have built and what is happening.  He begins crying as he realizes that in a matter of minutes he will be completely possessed by me, but as my preferences and personality are downloaded into him he stops struggling and notices his cute and toned body all sweaty from his struggle.  He knows he’s supposed to like girls; deep inside he’s always been compassionate to gays, but also 100% straight.  None of that matters though as he gives in to new desires to touch himself and appreciate his body from a whole new point of view.  He begins groaning as he desires to rub his lean abs and cup his balls while pumping that well-endowed cock just so he can taste his own man juices as they shoot out of his cock like water out of a super soaker-he whines and curses his restraints as he tries in vain to touch himself.  Andy reaches new heights of arousal as all of my vivid sexual fantasies about possession, mind control, etc. enter and reprogram him.  This formerly struggling cutie is now thrusting his hips into the air, helplessly thinking about cute boys, gay sex, the rush of possession and being reprogramed by my essence…even the thought of getting his brother’s cock up his virgin ass.   “Oh Fuck yeah!” he shouts between pants as he keeps grinding his hips into the air.  “Yeah!  Fill me up!  Take me over!  Make me better!  Use my sexy boy body to get the best dick in town!  Oh YEAH!  You’re gonna get my cherry popped by Macky’s juicy cock!  You’re gonna use my cute bubble butt to milk his juices out of his cock!” Andy is shivering in pleasure and ecstasy, overwhelmed by the constant flow of data.  Finally, I black out as the final phase initiates and my consciousness begins transferring.   Andy is howling in delight as his back arches and he knows what’s coming.  My consciousness is downloaded into his brain as his central nervous system adapts to a new resident.  Andy moans out in ecstasy as the computer screen flashes to green, TRANSFER SEQUENCE COMPLETE.  But at the last minute he has a moment of clarity as I begin unlocking Andy’s memories and personality, ensuring that they will be available to me.   “Wait-this isn’t right.  This is wrong!  WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?!  GET OUT OF ME!  PLEASE MAN!!!!  YOU GOTTA GET OUT OF ME!  DON’T DO THIS!  YOU CAN’T- UNNNGGGGGGG!!!!”  He screams loudly as the pressure in his balls builds and he knows he can’t control what’s coming.  His toes are curling and his fists are balled tightly as he strains in a last act of futile resistance.  The moment right before he blows his load, my vision comes into clear focus, seeing through Andy’s eyes and hearing his hollers of pleasure leaving my mouth as I have my first orgasm in his fit body.  “OH FUCKKKKKKKK UMMMMMMMYEAH!” I shout as I writhe helplessly as my new cock pours a sea of hot cum into these gym shorts.  Fuck!  This dick didn’t even get touched a single time!  Oh My God! I’m laughing in joyous laughter, feeling my hips thrust with every spurt of warm cum and shouting out every time I feel Andy’s dick seize up.  Oh I want nothing more than to reach down and taste my new juices, but my restraints are frustratingly effective.  Right as I relax my arched back and begin riding this wave of orgasmic afterglow, I see my old body open its eyes and undo the straps on the helmet.  Perfect.   “Hello, Master.  Everything has gone according to plan,” My old body says in a monotonous tone. “Well, this was unplanned,” I say pointing at my cum soaked crotch, “But I’m not complaining.  Anyway, do you understand your programing?  It’s time to act like Shane.  I didn’t mind clone myself for nothing.  And call me Andy.” My old body’s face remains blank for a second or two before finally his facial expression perks up and his vocal tone matches my own.   “Hey Sorry about that Andy.  I’m ready to fill in and put on a good show for everyone.  So anyway, what can I help you with?” the new Shane asks with convincing humanity.   “Well, for starters you could unbind me.  And get me a clean pair of shorts.” I say with a giggle and a wink. I make the short walk back to Andy’s house after getting cleaned up- decided to save my full body examination for Andy’s personal bathroom.  It really is crazy- I have all of myself intact, but I have all of Andy’s knowledge and memories available to me.  I can literally see the layout of his house flashing through my mind.  I’m upstairs, last room at the end of the hall to the left, far enough away that nobody will hear some light moaning.  I know that because I can remember Andy locking his door and beating off this already thick and long cock to internet porn.  Lots of tits and pussies filling his browser history.  Better get used to dicks and ass, buddy! I walk in the side door of my new house and Macky hollers from the kitchen: “How was it?” “It was great!  Learned a shit ton.  That PSAT is toast.” “No funny business right?  I don’t wanna have to have a long, painful chat with Shane.  And- wait what are you wearing?” “Bro?  haha shorts and a tee.  Dude, you should go get your eyes checked.” “Nah man, you wore your favorite shorts tonight.  The red ones that you’ve won so many 5k’s in.  Did  Shane-“ “Don’t worry!  I just spilled a sprite all over myself.  It was my bad, and Shane was nice enough to lend me some spare boxers and shorts.  The guy’s even washing my soiled clothes.  You’re really too hard on the guy sometimes,” I say convincingly as I run up the stairs and crash into Andy’s room, practically a tornado of motion as I try to rip these clothes off so I can worship this fit body.  Fuck, being that close to Macky without him being all homophobic is making me so damn hard.  Right as I slip out of these boxers and find myself nude on Andy’s bed I peer over at the clock and see it’s midnight, meaning it’s officially the first day of the rest of my life.  God, how can I be this hard after that load I blew earlier?!  Gotta take care of that right now! Chapter 1.5We’re done with all the pictures and I’m riding shotgun with Macky, who is still elated after scoring the winning touchdown.  Normally he’d shower with the rest of the team, but he practically carried me to the car, bent on getting home ASAP.   “Are you sure you don’t wanna shower with your bros and celebrate your win?” I ask him as we cruise along the road to our home.   “You’re the only bro that matters and we’ll be celebrating, alright,” he says with a wink that makes me blush.  I’ve been in Andy’s body for 3 days now, and I’m already realizing this was the best decision I’ve ever made.  I flash my now older brother a devilish smile before I reach a toned arm over and grab his thick man meat, massaging it with my soft hands and enjoying the feeling of it growing in my grip. “ohhhhhhhhhh fuck….Andy that feels so good.  Wait, we should-“ “Start celebrating right now” I interrupt as I lean over at the redlight and grab his face, forcing my tongue into his mouth and enjoying this passionate kiss as he explores my mouth also.  “I know you’re good for more than one round of celebration” I tease him as I slide my hand into his football pants and grab his rod and begin stroking him.  I know he can’t wait any longer when he’s moaning like a bitch in heat as he thrusts into my grip on his cock.   “Oh fuck bro!   GOD YEAH MAN THAT FEELS SO GOOD!” Macky shouts as I begin sliding his 8 inches into my mouth and down my perfectly relaxed throat.  He surprises me when he involuntarily thrusts the last 2 inches into me, immediately bringing my lips down to the base of his cock, forcing me to take in the sweaty man odor of his trimmed bush.  I breathe it in gladly as I get ready for one hell of a car ride home.  He grabs at the T-shirt I changed into, letting me know how much my mouth pleases him.  2 Days AgoThe clock just hit midnight which means this is the first day of the rest of my life.  Fuck, I’ve gone from the bony computer nerd to the toned and future jock star little brother of Macky, the formerly unattainable subject of my affection.  But laying here in Andy’s bed, having just implanted my knowledge, personality, and consciousness into his brain, fully possessing him, I feel like anything is possible.  Anything except for these damn socks.  Fuck, I’m trying to kick em off without reaching down to use my hands, but these little suckers just aren’t cooperating.  I smile having a memory flash into my head of Andy having the same struggle until finally- shoop- I get that sucker off and kick it off the side of the bed.  God damn, finally, I’m completely naked laying on Andy’s bed.  With a chance to take it all in I take a minute to close my eyes and just enjoy the feeling of Andy’s soft sheets on his golden skin.  Getting curious, I swing my feet off the bed and walk over to Andy’s bathroom and stand before the full length body mirror.   Right before I can dive into my exploration, Andy’s or I mean my, phone vibrates so I walk over to the bed where I left the phone and see a text of a screenshot snap from a friend.   Oh how fucking ironic.  I chuckle and roll my eyes playfully before returning to the bathroom and looking straight into Andy’s eyes.  I really love his prominent eyebrows, so I work on using them to make all sorts of ridiculous expressions, making him look concerned, Sherlock Holmes inquisitive, angry, sassy, and everything in between.   “God, puberty is a beautiful thing,” I say aloud, enjoying my new voice and seeing a flash of what Andy looked like not too long ago in the form of a memory with his older sister.   Oh yeah, thank God for puberty.  I laugh some more, enjoying Andy’s not fully developed voice.  It’s not fully developed yet, but it has an indisputable masculine quality that still retains just a shred of boyish charm.   I look back into the mirror and taunt Andy a bit. “You didn’t put up much of a fight, eh?  I’m thinking you wanted me in here all along.  Yeah?  That your kink?  You always wanted someone else inside you, using your body to do this?” I say as I begin lightly caressing his face, using Andy’s mouth to seductively suck on one of his fingers.   “Oh you’re just a little whore inside aren’t you?  Yeah, little player, huh?  Bet you never thought you’d be doing this I bet. Unnggggg dammmnnn yeah” I moan as I clamp my eyes shut and toss my head back, enjoying the feeling of Andy’s sensitive nipples being stroked by his soft fingertips.  Oh yeah I start circling them, already feeling my breathing pick up, but then my whole body twitches a bit as I grab one of those perky nipples and give it a good pinch.  “Oh fuck!” I hiss as I feel Andy’s dick twitch.  I use my left hand to go back and forth between both nipples, pinching and twisting and pulling enough to send sparks through my central nervous system, occasionally just grabbing the whole pec and rubbing the developing mound of lean muscle.  My right hand does a full survey of Andy’s left arm, feeling every toned ridge of his lean triceps down to his strong forearms from doing lax and football, just like Macky.  Soon I’m running a hand along Andy’s chiseled abs, enjoying the way they feel as I run my hand along them while taking deep breaths. “Mmmmmm yeah, you little punk.  These are mine now.  This body is mine now.  Thanks for being so athletic you little twink.  I can’t wait to see what your abs look like when you’ve got a thick cock cumming in your hole.  You’re gonna be using all the strength in your body to clamp that dick where it belongs- balls deep inside you.  Oh fuck yeah!” I taunt as I spit on the mirror and enjoy watching Andy lick up his own saliva off the mirror.  I’m getting so hard so fast now!  In seconds, Andy’s dick is standing at 7 full inches and nice thickness.   “This is mine now!” I shout as I grab that man meat and stare Andy’s reflection in the eye again.   “This is my cock and I’m gonna use it whenever I want and however I want!  Yeah, you little whore.  You just love it when I stroke you like THIS!  Oh MOTHERFUCK!  YEAH MAN!  You’re dick is great! Unnnnnggggg Yeah!” I yell as I thrust into this skilled grip.  Holy crap, I’m still using the left hand to tweak these sensitive nipples and it feels even better now that I’m jerking Andy’s cock like this!  I rub that hand over these abs which are popping like crazy now that my hips are thrusting like this.  Mmmmm yeah, Andy’s lean, but strong thighs look so nice right now.  And I fucking love his legs.  Those calves are perfect.  Strong, but lean and toned, just like the rest of his body, but he’s got a nice coat of dirty blonde hair trailing up his legs and up his thighs, getting lighter and lighter until it barely meets Andy’s trimmed bush.   Fuck!  I’m getting close!  I leave the bathroom and hop onto the bed, dick pointed straight up as I grab Andy’s cock again and begin thrusting desperately into my grip, grabbing at the sheets with the other hand and curling my toes as I scrunch my face up in one orgasmic expression of pleasure as I pump the holy fucking shit out of Andy’s cock.   “Ohhhhhh FUCK you feel so good Andy!  I fucking love your body!  GOD DAMN MAN Wooooooo” I gasp as I thrash my head around on his bed, hyperventilating and finally feeling his balls tighten.  Damn this feels so much better than that first orgasm.  I quickly grab Andy’s balls with my left hand and begin massaging them right as my back arches, throwing me into the air, as every muscle seems to contract at once and the first shot of cum flies and lands perfectly in my gasping mouth!  I quickly swallow Andy’s delicious cum and try to scream, but no sound exits my gaping mouth!  I just writhe and squirm, trying to comprehend how good this feels as shot after shot of hot cum coats my lean chest and abs.  I finally let go of Andy’s dick and just stare in amazement as this dick just keeps launching cum.  Right as Andy’s cock finally stops this insane orgasm I black out from the pleasure, overwhelmed by my first ride in Andy’s sexy body.  I wake up just a few minutes later, happy that the cum is still warm from being on my burning hot torso.  Shit, I’m still breathing like I just won a 5k and I’m sweating like a pig.   “That was awesome” I coo as I scoop Andy’s cum into his hand and ruthlessly devour it, sparing no drop.  “Andy, even your cum tastes so fucking good.  God you’re such a perfect little stud.” I say aloud as I lay in bed and think.After enjoying my afterglow I decide to shower and resume the primary goal- to pursue Macky now that I’m inside his hot younger brother.   Chapter 2“OH FUCKKKKKKK!!!!” Macky shouts as he dumps endless rivers of cum down my throat.  I hungrily eat every last drop, making sure that whatever didn’t get dumped directly down Andy’s throat is immediately consumed.  Macky is shivering with pleasure and giddy joy and I actually have to grab the stearing wheel because he doesn’t see that truck that just slowed down.  “Holy Shit Balls that was close dude!” Macky shouts, breaking out of his euphoria.  We both laugh together and he just says, “We’ll have to practice the road head more. I’ve gotta work on my focus,” he tells me with a wink as he reaches his hand and grabs my firm rod through the silky fabric of these shorts, firmly gripping and massaging the rock hard mound trapped in this compression underwear.  He keeps rubbing me until a wet spot forms on my compressions, a nice healthy flow of Andy’s precum as well as my squirming body and attempts to keep my moaning under control let Macky know how much I want him, how much his loving brother, Andy, is turned on by him.  When he slips his hand into these compression shorts and wraps his strong fingers around Andy’s marble hard cock, he knows this cock is hard because I want his body and his dick cumming inside me as our sweaty bodies are grinding all over one another.   He looks at me intently, squeezing, massaging, stroking, jacking my cock as I flash him a smile, gasping for breath and ask him, “Are we there yet?”“Bro, you better be a good boy.  You ask me that again and I’ll pull this car over right now and we’ll start on the side of the road,” Macky says with wickedly cute mischief.   I just lay back and relax, moaning in appreciation as Macky expertly pumps my cock, bringing me closer and closer to shooting a load all over his new car.  Fuck, that would be hot!  Then we can both lick it off together.  Mmmmmm God, I love Macky, but I love possessing his little bro, Andy, even more!2 Days Ago… After that amazing orgasm in Andy’s body, I decide to shower and explore some more, enjoying the feeling of the hot water rolling off of Andy’s skin.  After drying off and doing some sexy faces at my reflection I decide to get dressed.  Hmmmm a memory flashes into my head of Andy and his two siblings.  I guess the guy has a safe sense of style. I’ll start introducing my affinity for bright colors and neon into his life eventually, but not this week.  I just want to blend in and get some one on one time with Macky.  Luckily, big sis is already in college, so I don’t have to worry about her ruining my fun.  For now, I remember that Andy and Macky had been planning on going to a game today- the memory of getting the tickets a few months back flashed clearly in my mind.It’s really too bad that my new parent, Andy’s stepdad, couldn’t end up going with us on the big day, but that’ll just give me more one on one time with Macky.  Mmmmmmm yeah, some one on one time is exactly what I need to set this plan in motion.  I go back to Andy’s bathroom and expertly navigate his cabinets and drawers, finding the randomly scattered things like toothpaste, deodorant, some hair product, etc. Before I start, I take a whiff of Andy’s underarms.  Mmmmmm such a delicious boy odor.  I take another sniff and then I just all out huff in as much of Andy as I can, eventually licking these pits clean, tasting Andy’s funkiness with his own mouth.  I need more!  I grab a pair of Andy’s dirty underwear from a run and hold it against my face, sniffing in the musk and getting hard in the process.  I look directly in the mirror as I continue breathing in Andy’s scent, eventually moaning in satisfaction as I rub the filthy underwear all over my body. Mmmmmmfuck- I manage to stop myself before I get fully hard.  Better wait til later!  I just have to resist temptation and finish getting ready, so I pop the deodorant cap and do a teenwolf style play bite at my reflection.  I feel so powerful and sexy as I do something as simple as roll deodorant on Andy’s underarms.  “Yeah, you can’t even do this for yourself.  You need someone like me inside you to do it for you!” I playfully lash out at the mirror.  I grab some of Andy’s underarm hair and try to mentally measure those coarse dirty blonde waves.  “Not a boy, but not yet a man.  Oh you needed me inside you to make you a man,” I laugh some more at my taunts.  Mmmmm even something as ridiculous as putting Andy’s deodorant on can feel so empowering.  I bet this’ll never get old!  Still elated from doing Andy’s morning routine, I quickly do a mental survey of his bathroom and realize I was going to be bringing about some positive changes.  “Really, man? No facial cleanser?  I mean, overall you’ve been blessed with good skin, Andy, but we’re gonna do every little thing we can to keep you perfect.  I’m gonna get a good moisturizer to use on your face because I plan on preserving your boyishly cute good looks for as long as I possibly can.  And I’m digging your robust eyebrows, but I’m gonna get a good pair of tweezers to make sure they’re kept neat and clean looking.  Several memories flash through my head of Andy complaining about all this shit I’ve mentioned being too girly.  My new mom had the right idea, trying to get Andy on board with skin care, but to his core he always resisted, insisting it’s not what guys do.  “Well, Andy, it’s what YOU do now!” I exclaim as I smirk at his reflection, sensually licking one of his fingers and sucking on it, adding more and more fingers until my mouth is full enough to practice for Macky’s thick cock.  I know it’s thick because Andy has several memories of seeing that beast, not up close, but in various locker room and quick clothes changing scenarios.  Ohhhh but now that I’m inside Andy, he’s gonna be getting really up close and personal with some brotherly dick!“Andy!  Hurry up!  We have to leave now or parking’s gonna be a nightmare!” Macky hollers from downstairs.  Shit, I’ll have to scheme later.  Time to be a good brother I think as I grab some clothes and run downstairs. Thank God it’s Saturday!  Nothing like spending some quality time with MY older brother.   As I walk outside I realize Macky and I are almost matching.  We’re both decked out in Navy Blue with our Georgetown hats and ready to enjoy a good game.  Mmmmm Macky is looking extra on point today.  Just from watching him I can see I have a lot to look forward to growing up in Andy’s body.   We hop in Macky’s car and the drive is kind of quiet and awkward, so I decide to do some probing.  “So have you heard back from that Shane guy?” I ask, trying to stir the melting pot of repressed frustration.“I don’t want you to get help from him anymore.”“But, why?  He was super helpful, and really nice to me.”“I just don’t trust the guy.  I mean you know about him right?”“It sounds like you don’t trust yourself,” I blurt out.  “And what is that supposed to mean?” Macky asks a little shaken and caught off guard.  Andy’s memories flash through my head as I respond.“Bro, you hardly ever hang out with your girlfriend.  I never even see you guys texting or messaging or anything.  I’ve seen you around some of your buds, and when you bring your guy friends over you get really touchy.  There was one time where I borrowed your laptop and a porn site was still on your browser, but there wasn’t any pussy or tits…” I say with fake concern in my tone.  Wow, Andy really repressed a lot of dirt on his big bro.  I’m honestly so frustrated as I sift through Andy’s memories and see that he basically dumped all this incriminating evidence in the Just a Fluke/Better Not Bring It Up part of his mind. Jesus.“Andy….I…Uhhhh…I just clicked the wrong link. I-““Hey.  Bro,” I say looking him dead on, “I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything.  You’ve been such a good big brother all these years.  It’s about time I repay the favor.”“Andy, it’s not like that.”“You know I’m here for you.”“Bro!  Just chill.  It’s not like that.  Okay.  Thank you for extending open arms and all, but I’m not gay.  That’s just wrong.  And I don’t hate gays, I just don’t want that guy Shane to get any ideas in your head.” Oh that guy Shane got wayyyyyy more than a few ideas in Andy’s head I think to myself with mischievous satisfaction.  I decide to let up on my probing, feeling all the more convinced that Macky is a melting pot of repressed homosexual desire.  As I doze off for the rest of the car ride I make sure to spread Andy’s legs so my crotch is in plain view.  I don’t even need to open my eyes to know that Macky is sneaking glances. It would be pointless to fight the grin emerging on my face, as I twist Andy’s face into one of satisfaction, so I just ride with it.  Maybe deep down Macky’s hoping I’m having a fun dream about him.  Once we arrive and get the car parked we immediately run into one of Macky’s best buds, Ben, who takes a pic of Macky and me.  You can see what I meant earlier when I said we were accidentally matching.  And I’ll be God damned if I’ve ever seen two bros who looked more all-American and adorable.  The game is pretty boring, even for the part of Andy’s mind I have at my disposal, so I kind of zone out, cheering when Macky does and just going through the motions.  But then I see how I can spice up my afternoon. I’m going to test the limits of Andy’s cuteness, so I start making lingering eye contact with Ben, enjoying his nervous fidgeting and blushing cheeks.  My sick perversion of Andy’s usually cool and “bro” self continues as I look directly into Ben’s eyes and slowly bring my hotdog to my mouth and lightly lick the end of the meat before opening wide and slowly shoving in as much weiner as I can in a single bite.  I even close my eyes and lean my head back slightly, making Andy look like a cock hungry gay boy for the whole world to see.  Luckily, Macky is actually trying to follow the game intently, so he doesn’t see me using Andy’s mouth to put on a show, or the tenting emerging in Ben’s pants. He gasps, unable to control his urges as he picks up his phone and begins frantically typing.  Just a few seconds later I feel Andy’s phone vibrate and open it to find an old selfie and a message from Ben.   LET’S FUCK!  BATHROOM!  PLEASE!I suck in a deep breath from shock and quickly look at him and shake my head no.  I lie and write to him: I’m seeing someone.   I don’t consider this a lie because I plan on making Macky mine…all in good time.  For now though it’s just me, Macky, Ben, and a new message with an irritated frowny face and the word TEASE!  You better not tell anyone or I’ll fuck up your world! I just smirk at him with Andy’s cute face and message him back: Don’t forget who has the leverage here.   At the same time I raise Andy’s phone and show him the photo and dirty message he sent.  It was like Check and mate.  I do let him know though if things don’t work out he’ll be the first guy I call.  This seems to brighten his mood, but deep down I know there’s nothing worse than false hope.  Mehh…what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We get back that Saturday night to an empty house- Just Macky and me for the rest of the weekend since the folks are off on some Napa Valley excursion.  It’s pretty late now, and Macky seems pretty tired so he retires to his room.  I follow and pop into his room as he’s in the middle of changing and catch him shirtless.  God, this is what I’ve dreamed of for so long, to be this close to him and see that built torso, so strong from football and training.  I want nothing more than to grab one of those meaty pecs and suck on his nipples until he shivers from satisfaction.  “Hey bro, you need something?” he asks.“No, but you do,” I say sensually as I slowly walk up to Macky and lightly run one of Andy’s fingers over his pecs.  To my surprise, he doesn’t resist.  “Andy, I-““Shhhhhh,” I coo as I place another finger gently on his lips, shutting him up and forcing him to suck on my finger as I playfully force Andy’s digit into his mouth.  With the hand still on Macky’s pecs I begin circling closer and closer to those hard nipples until I reach those sweet spots and begin stroking and lightly twisting back and forth between them both, making him gasp in disbelief as his inhibitions diminish.  Macky closes his eyes as I bring my lips to his.  We have a long moment where we just stand close to one another, eventually having a moment of long eye contact.  Macky’s mind seems wracked by conflicted wants and desires, but finally he gives in and leans towards me, opening his mouth slightly and gently moving his tongue into Andy’s mouth.  I meet his tongue with Andy’s and we slowly begin wrapping our arms around one another, caressing and affectionately rubbing each other’s bodies.  I run Andy’s hands along the ridges of Macky’s strong back and he reaches into my shirt places his hands under my armpits and begins rubbing and flicking Andy’s nipples with his thumbs, making me coo in blissful gratitude.  The kissing grows more intense, our mouths open wider and wider until little is holding us back.  It’s a battle of tongues and wills as our explorations of each other’s bodies intensifies to match our passionate kissing.  Hands are moving, rubbing, and caressing in a flurry of sexual desire as we both heat up and feel that rise in body heat that can only be explained by a sexual surge of lustful testosterone.  Macky gasps and moans out when I finally can’t take it anymore and I grab onto him tightly and begin grinding Andy’s rock hard boner against Macky’s, the soft fabric of our underwear sending jolts of sensation into our cocks.  He grabs onto me too, locking us together as we both ravenously grind our cocks together, moaning out as we both start showing dark wet spots from all the precum.   Holy fucking shit!  This moment that I’ve dreamed of for so long is finally happening!  I reach my hand into Macky’s snug boxers and grab his cock, gently stroking it and playing with his cockhead, rubbing his precum around the whole head and making him squirm and groan in ecstasy.  I begin picking up my intensity, still locking lips with him as I begin pumping his 8 inch cock, making him finally give in and egg me on.“Oh my fuck!  Andy, that feels so good!” He pants as he buries his face in my neck and begins taking in my scent, licking Andy’s flesh and playfully biting me.  I pump him extra nice and the surprise makes him hop a bit in surprise as he tenses up and accidentally bites me just a bit too hard.  “Oh Shit Andy!  I’m so fucking sorry!”He didn’t draw blood, but there’s definitely going to be a bruise.  That just makes me harder as I glare at him and rip Andy’s clothes off before pushing Macky onto his bed and dropping to Andy’s knees.  I rip Macky’s boxers off his legs and leave him so his legs are hanging off the edge of the bed.  Macky just looks at me with genuine intrigue and excitement, like a child wondering what’s going to happen next as I bury Andy’s face in Macky’s trimmed pubes, huffing in his manly odor while I grab his meaty mounds of muscular pec flesh and squeeze them in my firm grip, then dragging my fingers down the grooves of his abs as I raise my head and bring Andy’s lips around Macky’s ready-to-burst-it’s-so-fucking-hard-cock.   “Ohhhhhh Fuckkkkkkk. Andyyyyyyyyy Fuck yeahhhhhh” Macky moans as he widens his eyes, paralyzed by sensation as I use Andy’s tongue to playfully lick that cock head and swirl it around my mouth, making sure to lick and kiss my way up and down his shaft.  Macky is squirming and breathing deeply, restlessly moving in place as he grabs my head and begins guiding me to go lower and lower onto his cock.  I surprise him and force Andy’s mouth down, sending all 8 inches of Macky’s cock down my throat as my lips ram into his pubes.  Macky goes wild!  He tosses his legs in the air, toes curling as he grabs my head and pulls me down even harder onto his cock, hollering as he thrashes his head around.  Mmmmmm I love the way his abs and pecs pop from the strain as every muscle in his body contracts at once.  I get into a rhtym, guided by his strong hands as I send his cock sliding down my relaxed throat, over and over, faster and faster.  Macky is ecstatic as he is helplessly arching his back, thrusting his hips into his brothers hungry mouth, absolutely lost in the moment to how good it feels to finally satisfy all of these repressed desires.  Then he feels it. Macky feels the most earthshattering orgasm of his life rolling just around the corner, but instead of ride it out, he immediately snaps back to reality.  He looks at me with a look of panic and fury as he pushes me off him.  The force of my suction makes my lips remove from his dick with a forceful pop, sending more shudders of pleasure through his body before he looks at me, shaking his head, covering his boner with a pillow.  “GET THE FUCK OUT!  I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT WAS, BUT IT WAS SICK!  NEVER AGAIN, ANDY!  NEVER AGAIN!” he screams as I scurry out of his room, still naked, not bothering to grab my discarded clothes.  God damnit.  So fucking close.  Macky opens the door, bringing me hope that he’ll let me finish him off, but he just throws my clothes at me and slams the door, immediately clicking the lock.   I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but it’s time to start my secondary protocol… Chapter 2.5 Recap: “GET THE FUCK OUT!  I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT WAS, BUT IT WAS SICK!  NEVER AGAIN, ANDY!  NEVER AGAIN!” he screams as I scurry out of his room, still naked, not bothering to grab my discarded clothes.  God damnit.  So fucking close.  Macky opens the door, bringing me hope that he’ll let me finish him off, but he just throws my clothes at me and slams the door, immediately clicking the lock.   I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but it’s time to start my secondary protocol…It’s now one day before Macky’s big football game, and I realize I just fucked things up.  God damnit, really, Shane?  A full frontal assault?  I’m such an idiot.  I let lust cloud better judgment and now after coming so close to tasting Macky’s cream, he’s probably retreated deeper into his repressed homosexual denial than ever before and he’ll probably never look at Andy the same way.   Positive memories of Andy and his brother flash through my mind as that brotherly bond part of Andy’s brain tries to make me feel shame for swallowing Macky’s delicious cock.I almost feel nostalgia-induced shame before I laugh out loud at the ridiculousness.  I’m on Andy’s bed horny as hell, and the only shame I feel is that I didn’t get to feel Macky’s man juices surging down his little brother’s throat.  Picking up Andy’s phone, I dial a familiar number and decide to pay a visit to an old friend…“Hey Andy!” my old body greets me at the front door to my old house, “Come on in.” I try to feel a connection to my old life but I feel nothing as I follow my body downstairs to my research hub in the basement.  Shit, I was in such a rush to get out and enjoy Andy’s life that I didn’t even bring any useful gadgets with me.  I’m genuinely proud as we pass by the transference device as I remember Andy helplessly resisting having my knowledge and consciousness downloaded into his brain.  Shit, just thinking about that last bit of fight he put up is getting me hard.  Come on, man.  Breathe.  Breathe deep and focus.  Okay I’m fine.  I quickly grab the disc that has the video and audio footage of the transference, planning on keeping that for future beat off sessions in Andy’s body.  But anyway, my old body has been jabbering on about nonsensical bullshit.  I mean I programmed the AI to pass as me, but I also hampered his intelligence by a significant degree, hoping to prevent a Terminator doomsday world.  Nevertheless, I am still relieved to hear him complain about not knowing how to use any of my equipment.  “What does all this stuff do anyway?” my old body asks.  “Are you ever going to show me how to use or calibrate or whatever any of it?”“Why don’t you just worry about upgrading your PC RAM and getting to level 100 in Skyrim,” I respond with a disinterested tone as I begin depositing all my portable equipment in a duffel bag.  I grab the euphoria inducing aerosol I used to subdue Andy.  Check.  Gas mask.  Check.  Sleep Inducing Drugs.  Check.  And finally, the secondary protocol to my master plan.  Check.  “Yes, Andy.  You’re right.  I’m sorry, sometimes I just get curious.  I mean I played around with the euphoria aerosol a bit when I got bored.  That shit works great!  I just did one spray in the hot Fed Ex guy’s face and he was high long enough for me to suck him off.  TWICE!” I helplessly grin as I realize how good of a mind clone this AI is, even if he has a fraction of my raw intelligence.  Slinging the duffel over my shoulder, I look at him and realize this is the final goodbye to my old life.  Once I walk out the front door, that won’t just be the AI imported into my vacant body.  That will be Shane, and I will be Andy, the new, better Andy.  As I stare at Shane and analyze his asymmetrical face and revoltingly thin profile and I think Good Riddance! Before casually walking back to my house.  Yeah, that’s right-MY house- because my name is Andy. Back in my room I inspect the secondary protocol and devise my plan.  To be honest, this device never went beyond the prototype stage, so I believe it would be wise to perform a test trial on some lucky stud.   The device is extremely powerful, offering the power of absolute suggestion, or in more pop culture terms, mind control.  This device, which consists of electrode infused adhesive pads designed for the temples and a portable power unit that looks like a hand crank radio, but actually contains highly specific brainwave attunement algorithms operated by my custom designed Neuro-override CPU, has the primary function of forcing one to live truthfully.  That’s how I’m going to get Macky- I’m going to convince him that this is a homeopathic sport performance machine, and that’s when I’m going to force him to admit his homosexuality and his raw passionate desire for me.  And not just admit it, he will be forced to live his truth.  The secondary function is to completely reprogram the mind and implant ideas or traits that were never there to begin with.  I’ll have to use that function to reprogram my parents so they don’t think it’s weird that Macky and I will be having so much loud, ravenous sex all over the house.  Mmmmmm that thought of Macky’s 8 inch juicy cock stretching out my virgin hole is getting me so hard.  Gasping out and hearing Andy’s voice sounding frantic as I try to get my breathing under control and relax my ass muscles to let my older brother slide balls deep inside me….Fuck yeah, I need to do my field test now!  Wracking through Andy’s mind I remember that before Monday games there is always a mandatory Sunday practice.  Okay, I close my eyes and sift through Andy’s memories, visualizing faces and bodies until finally I have my test subject picked!  Anthony!  He’s one of Macky’s best friends and shit, I’ll be god damned if it wouldn’t be hot to make that straight tall dark and handsome jock get down on his knees and suck Andy’s cock.  Mmmmmmyeah I let memories and images of Anthony fill my head. Oh fuckkkkk, the stud signed to be a rower at Boston College, so I know he has a firm and strong body underneath those clothes.  I get up and walk to the mirror, reveling in one of my new favorite pastimes as I taunt Andy’s reflection.“Oh you sick fuck.  You’re about to reprogram a nice guy like Anthony and make him some queer cock whore?  Oh you’re a dirty little fucker aren’t you?”  I quickly huff in Andy’s pits, feeling a euphoric headrush from the stench of his boyish odor.  “Little whores like you don’t deserve deodorant” I say to my reflection, watching my satisfaction visible in Andy’s face which has been warped into a wicked smile of triumph.  I give Andy’s ass a firm smack, lightly yelping as I grab a hold of that firm yet juicy cheek and give it a squeeze.“mmmmmmm yeah, so close to finally finishing this damn plan,” I say, giving my reflection one last staredown before I leave to catch Anthony at practice.  “Don’t you ever forget I own you.  I am you.  I’m inside you.  I abuse your body and eat your cum, but you love it because I love it!”I show up to watch the practice, dressed in athletic attire myself.  I figure I might as well hit the gym after this test run- gotta keep my new body in hard and toned shape.  Accessing Andy’s memories, I whip up a quintessential Andy gym jock outfit: long grey compression shorts, black short shorts over top, Andy’s lacrosse jersey, gold chain, backwards facing Georgetown hat, and some compression garments over the elbows.  I put a white nike compression sleeve over the right elbow, but on my left arm just above the elbow, I tie a bright neon pink band.  Just a little something bright and colorful, a first step in showing the world how cute Andy will look when he’s always wearing either neon or bright colors.  I watch the practice diligently, trying to be a good little brother, but feeling tossed to the side as Macky ignores my cheers and tries to dart his gaze away from me whenever possible.  Anthony notices this and sees me looking a little bummed, so when practice is over he invites me out to do a little off the cuff pick me up play.  This is my first time really testing Andy’s agility, and I’ve gotta say, damn that boy can run!  Well, now I can run!  As soon as I get a hold of that ball I dart and weasel my way through a wall of hulking jocks, expertly jumping over and maneuvering my way through until I finally somersault over the last beefy jock, nailing the landing as my feet plant solidly right in the end zone.“TOUCHDOWN!!!!!” I hear Anthony roar, beaming from where I left him in the dust and looking so American boy next door cute in his light pink shorts and T-shirt that shows off all the hard work he’s put into his body.  I mean I can just tell he’s got a nice solid, yet tight and toned torso.  Cobblestone abs just dying to be licked and a perfect V-shape starting at his wide shoulders and solid arms, leading down to his tight and narrow waist.  And fuck me, those legs.  So strong and toned, oh and the perfect amount of brown hair leading up his inner thighs.  I struggle to keep myself from getting a hard-on as he races to where I’m standing and hugs me so hard he hoists me into the air.  “What the fuck man where did that come from?!  That was amazing!” Anthony applauds as he drops me back down to the ground with a thud.  “I think you’ve got a bright future ahead of you as a star quarterback”Admittedly, I get a little lost in the glory, but I see Macky eyeing me from afar, obviously proud of his little brother, but burying that pride underneath his disdain and frost he feels towards me.  I wait for my little crowd of applauding bros and football jocks to dissipate until it’s just me and Anthony.  I agreed to stay behind and help him put away all the equipment since it was his turn to take on that task.  As we’re hoisting helmets and loading water bottles he keeps piling on the compliments, making me genuinely blush.  I wish I could see what I look like right now- I’ve always imagined Andy would look cute with rosy red cheeks.  “Hey Anthony…”“Yeah man.  What can I do for our future MVP?” he responds with sincere kindness.“I got this new thing that I think might help Macky do better tomorrow at the game.  Would you be willing to help me test it out?”“I think Macky will be fine if he takes some notes on you, man.  How the hell are you still JV?  I’m talking to coach first thing after the game and getting you on Varsity, where you belong.  And-““Anthony, please.  This is serious.  I want my bro to do well.  Will you just give me a few minutes?”“Yeah, man.  Of course”I turn to hide the devilish grin on Andy’s face as I unload the secondary protocol and remove the adhesive temple units.  After having Anthony lie down on his back on the abandoned field, I place the units on his temples and he laughs a bit as he shivers from the cold gel.  I tell him to try to relax as I calibrate the device.“So what is this thing again?” Anthony asks.“Oh it’s the newest hot thing in the NFL,” I bullshit him.  “It sends sound waves or some shit directly to where the brain controls nervousness and calms that down, making it easier to focus and get ‘in the zone’”“Wow sweet!  Well maybe if this goes well we can all get a little zap before the game tomorrow.”Poor sucker, I think to myself as I hit the on switch.“UnnnnnnngggggggggggggGGggGGggg WHHHHHHAAAAAATTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEEFFFFFFFUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!” Anthony screams as the units begin sending shockwaves of electricity into his brain, making every muscle in his body seize, but also breaking his resistance down in preparation for the next phase.  I honestly start to get a little hard watching this toned jock trembling and unintelligibly shouting in so much agony, but I remind myself that hopefully the best is yet to come.   Suddenly, Anthony relaxes, his arched back plummeting to the ground as he stares blankly into the twilight sky, looking peaceful and docile as the machine begins sending a barrage of algorithm impulses directly into his brain.   “Anthony.  How do you feel?”“I feel good, Andy,” he says blankly.“Did you mean what you said earlier?  About thinking I have a shot at varsity?”“Oh absolutely.  I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”“Did you enjoy what you saw as I made that play?”“It makes me happy to see such good football talent.”“No, did you enjoy me?  Did you enjoy watching my body as I bolted and jumped my way through?  Did you like seeing my tight bubble butt and toned arms hurling down the field?  Did you want to just tackle me to the ground and touch and taste my body?” I ask as I crank up the machine’s power level.  He looks like he enjoys it as he begins squirming and his breathing deepens in satisfied gasps the higher the power goes.  “No, Andy.  I think you’re really cool, but I was only focused on the football.  I’m straight and I’ve honestly never had sexual thoughts about other guys.” Well, I guess now is as good of a time as ever to try out the reprogramming feature.  I hit a green button and make a few calibrations before feeding Anthony his new self.“Anthony, you DID want to touch my body earlier.  You wanted to rip off all my clothes and clean my sweaty body clean with your tongue.  You wanted nothing more than to swallow my cock and let me fuck your throat on the field.”“Mmmmmm Yes, Andy.  Your body looks so delicious.  Always wanted to have your cock in my mouth.  Oh yeah, fucking my throat…”“You work out so much to impress men, not chicks.  Now tell me, why do you work out?”“I-I-I want other men to notice my body, to be impressed.”“Because you love attention from other men.  The thought of a handsome hunk forcing his tongue into your mouth and shoving his cock up your ass is such a turn on.  Hell, we’ll make you vers.  The thought of shoving your cock up a tight boy asshole turns you on too.  But tits and pussy are fading from your mind.  Now tell me how much you like this,” I say as I lean over his body and bring my mouth to his, quickly meeting his tongue and enjoying our little oral dance.“Very Much, Andy!” Anthony says, gasping for air as we end the kiss.  “Ohhhhh yeah, dick and ass.  I love the attention of other men.  I just want a dick in my hole.  And I want to be inside tight boy assholes.”“You love cum.  You crave cum.  You want it inside you more than anything whether it’s inside your mouth and throat or inside your ass, you hunger for the warmth and the creaminess.”  Anthony just moans in response.  “Anthony, you are completely, absolutely gay.  You will still talk and act the way you do with your friends, the straight boy persona and all, but everything I have told you is absolutely true.  Is that correct?”“Yes, Andy.  All correct.”“You will do anything I say.  Is that correct?”“Yes, Andy.”“You love following my orders.  Is that correct?” he just gasps and moans, letting me know following my orders will bring him the highest of sexual pleasure. p>“Good boy” I say with wicked satisfaction as I give Anthony another electric surge like before, locking in all of the adjustments and reprogramming his mind.  So far it seems like the secondary protocol is a success, but let’s wait until he wakes up.  The poor guy blacked out from the experience.  “ohhhhh…..Andy is that you?”“Hey Anthony.  I think you fell or something- hit your head probably.  You feel okay?”“mmmmmm Yeah.  Never felt better,” He coos as he stretches out, still lying on his back.   I see him eying me with new lust, an intensity and hunger that wasn’t there before.  “Hey Andy, do you like getting your dick sucked?”“Fuck yeah, dude.  Especially love finding a bimbo who’ll let me cum down his throat.”“Did you say ‘he’?” Anthony asks with hope in his eyes, as well as dramatic tenting in his pink shorts.  “Here, let me help you with that,” I say as I unzip his shorts, freeing that monster cock as it pops out with a BOING.  “Commando?  Wow, that’s so dirty and hot,” I tell him as I grab his fuck stick and begin pumping him slowly.  He’s moaning out, eyes clamped shut, but then I lean down lightly lick the head of Anthony’s cock before taking the whole head in my mouth and swirling the end of his cock with my tongue, setting off all those sensitive nerve endings and making him squirm for dear life beneath me.  “OH Andy!  UNNNGGGGGGGGFUUUUUUCKKK!” He yells as his fist grabs a tuft of grass and his whole body thrashes so powerfully that he rips an entire fistful of grass from the earth.  As much as he enjoys receiving this treatment from me, I can see a glimmer in his eyes that lets me know how badly he wants to service me.  I stand up and tell him to get on his knees in front of me.  “Service my cock”“Oh yes, please, Andy.  You’re so perfect, Andy,” the mindfucked Anthony exclaims as he yanks my black shorts and my compressions down to my ankles, getting slapped in the face by my 7 inches of glory that flop out.  He starts by pumping me, getting me fully hard right away, making me feel empowered as he says things like:“Oh Andy, you’re such a hot boy.  You have the most beautiful cock, Andy.  Oh Andy, you are so fucking cute.”I’m on a high of power, owning Andy’s body and mind as I feel all this pleasure in his cock, and feeling the thrill of having this innocent and sweet reprogrammed jock pumping my man meat.  Anthony looks at me from down on his knees and then looks at my cock.  I know what he wants, so I let him know to go ahead-and no teeth!   To my great shock, he expertly swallows my cock in one smooth motion.  No teeth at all, and he even uses his throat muscles to make a milking, suction on Andy’s cock.  Fuck, I’ve been horny all day in Andy’s post-puberty teen body and Anthony gave me such an expert hand job.  I can’t believe this, but I literally just got the last inch of my cock down Anthony’s throat when my balls seize up and I feel it coming!“Mother Fucking FUCK!!!!!” I shout as I grab Anthony’s head and ram my cock even deeper down his throat, forcing him to swirl around a bit, making him milk every last drop of my cum as it floods directly down his throat.  As full as he is, I can hear him making feral squeals of pleasure and satisfaction.  The pleasure of satisfying me and taking in Andy’s tasty teen juices was so satisfying to Anthony that he starts launching ropes of his own cum, the creamy missiles landing all over the front of my legs and thighs.  As we both calm down and I pull out of his throat I point at the mess he made.Without another word he gets to work licking up his own juices off of my body, savoring the flavors and making me moan as his enthusiastic tongue starts to drift a little too far up my thigh….Fuck I love being Andy…. Secondary protocol is without a doubt a success.  Ready for primary trial.  Mmmmmm Macky, you’re mine now… Chapter 3 Thus far: Shane, a computer tech prodigy, has a deep and powerful hunger for Macky (right), so he has ruthlessly transferred his knowledge and consciousness into Macky’s younger Brother, Andy (left).  Macky is a deeply repressed homosexual, and Shane, in Andy’s body, failed to seduce him.  So, Shane will be using the secondary protocol, a mind control device, to reprogram Macky and make him crave his (unknown to him) possessed brother.   Recap: “Mother Fucking FUCK!!!!!” I shout as I grab Anthony’s head and ram my cock even deeper down his throat, forcing him to swirl around a bit, making him milk every last drop of my cum as it floods directly down his throat.  As full as he is, I can hear him making feral squeals of pleasure and satisfaction.  The pleasure of satisfying me and taking in Andy’s tasty teen juices was so satisfying to Anthony that he starts launching ropes of his own cum, the creamy missiles landing all over the front of my legs and thighs.  As we both calm down and I pull out of his throat I point at the mess he made.Without another word he gets to work licking up his own juices off of my body, savoring the flavors and making me moan as his enthusiastic tongue starts to drift a little too far up my thigh….Fuck I love being Andy…. Secondary protocol is without a doubt a success.  Ready for primary trial.  Mmmmmm Macky, you’re mine now… The night before the big game… Arriving home, sweaty and dirty from my successful trial of the secondary protocol with Macky’s good friend, Anthony, I know the time to act is now.  I don’t even bother changing or showering as I walk to Macky’s room where he’s holing himself up, still doom and gloom over last night’s incident.  I know he wanted to blow his load down my throat, and he will.  He just needs a little push to get over the whole me possessing his little brother without anyone knowing and turning him into a cock hungry whore thing.  And that’s totally understandable.  But with a little help from this device, Andy’s tastebuds will finally get to taste the manly juices as they erupt from his big brother’s cock, and I’ll get to enjoy the privilege of swallowing every last drop.   *Knock knock knock*“Go Away!” Macky shouts from inside.“Come on, man.  Please let me in.  You’re my big bro and I need to talk to you.”“I said go away!” Macky refuses to relent.  “Look, I know I fucked up and pushed too hard last night.  I know we’re both straight.  We’ve just been really stressed and I shouldn’t have been all weird like that, but I honestly just want to help you play better at tomorrow’s game.  So will you please let me in?” I say using the sweetest tone I can possibly muster with Andy’s cute voice.  I hear rustling and grumbling from the other side of the door and Macky’s lumbering footprints as he opens the door, not saying a word, but inviting me in.  I notice he’s just in boxers and when he catches me glancing at him he quickly puts on a T-shirt and some gym shorts to cover himself up.  Why even bother? I think to myself.  You’ll just be ripping them off anyway once I release you from your repressed horny lust for my body.  “So what is it?” Macky asks as he hops onto his bed, landing on his back and relaxing with his hands resting on his tight stomach.  “KT Tape?  Ultrasound?  Tigerbalm?  I’ve already got all of that stuff.” Macky says, closing his eyes and sounding exhausted.   “No way man.  I got this thing from a friend, and it’s the hottest new thing NFL players are using.  It’s all-natural, homeopathic, and junk, but makes you focus like CRAZY.”“Well…Yeah, let’s give it a go,” Macky says, unable to resist anything that’ll make him a better football player.  I get to work, quickly placing the probes on his temples, eliciting the same cold shiver as Anthony when the cold gel pads adhere to his temples.  “So bro, what is this supposed to do exactly?  Are we doing shock therapy or something?  Hahahaha-“*Click*“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSHHHHHHHHIIIIIITTTTT!!!!!!!  THE FUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!!” Macky screams, writhing in pain as electric impulses are pumped directly into his brain.  Every muscle in his body is contracting at the same time, making his face turn bright red from strain as he grits his teeth with his eyes clamped shut, face scrunched into one of agony as the veins on his neck dilate until they look like they’ll pop.  Mmmmmmm you should see Macky’s abs and pecs right now, all tight and toned and looking shredded from the electricity disabling his nervous system.  His back is arched with such force that he’s airborne off the bed.  Finally, he collapses with a thud onto the bed, lightly moaning as his deep breathing calms down and he just stares at the ceiling, his psyche’s defenses shattered as his brain is penetrated by waves of algorithm impulses.  I decide to start simple, realizing that Macky’s fragile mind also has the deepest repressed feelings.  “Macky, can you hear me?”“Yes, Andy,” he answers with a soft and peaceful tone.“How do you feel Macky?“I was in pain, but now I feel very good.  My head feels very funny, but I love the vibrations I feel coursing through me.”“Those are the probes, Macky.  They’re sending algorithms into your brain.  Those algorithms will rewire your brain and make you a better football player.  You just have to be honest with me.  I promise I’ll do the same.”“No….No.  Can’t be honest,” he replies with more worry and conflicted tone to his voice.“Why can’t you be honest with me?  I’m your little brother.  We’ve always been such good pals.  You’re the reason I got into football because I saw you looking all serious and powerful and I wanted to be just like you.”  I dip into Andy’s memories and my own memories of practice earlier that day to create that shtick.  I must tread carefully though.  “There’s something.  Can’t say.  Too much shame.”“There’s no such thing as shame between us.  We’re too close for that.  Here, you tell me who you think I am and I’ll tell you who I really am.”“You’re Andy.  You’re my little brother.  You’re athletic and love the attention you get from the ladies.  You’re straight and pretty calm and chill,” Macky responds with subdued confidence in his response.  “No, Macky.  You’re right that my name is Andy, that I’m your little brother, and that I’m athletic, but I don’t give two shits what the ladies think about me.  I am as gay as they come and when I’m alone I don’t like to be chill; I’m a sexual deviant and love perverted sexual taboos.”“What do you mean?” Macky blankly responds with a hint of confusion and curiosity.  “Jesus, man.  I’m saying I like taking it up the ass and I like swallowing hot, fresh cum.”“But-““I was honest with you, now you be honest with me, big bro.”“I-I-I…..I’m…”“You’re?”“I’m gay…” Macky finally says out loud, a cloud of tension years in the making evaporates from his psyche as he lays in bed, saying that phrase in different ways, finally being forced to confront his truth and live it.  “I’m Macky and I’ve been gay as long as I know.  I’m gay.  I’m gaaaaay.  I’m gayyyyyy,” Macky says, exploring different ways of admitting his homosexuality.  Unbenownst to him, he’s self-reinforcing his truth as his phrases, with the assistance of the algorithms, bust through his walls of secrecy and shame.“Tell me how you know you’re gay” I probe.“There’s just nothing like a nice tight, solid bro ass, just waiting for me to slide my cock inside of.  I’ve always wanted to seed a cute twink ass, to have a lean and toned boy to call my own and love and hold close to me at night, and to pound whenever he needs a reminder of who his hole belongs too,” Macky says softly, revealing his truest and deepest desires.  I notice that Macky is starting to get really hard, his erection threatens to burst out of his boxers.  And to be honest, I’m starting to feel Andy’s cock swell up as I try to process how perfect this is going so far.  Soon you’ll be mine, Macky.  We’re at the finish line.  “Do you care what people think about you?  Does any of that matter when you have the chance to slide your meat inside a cute twink and finally have the satisfaction of cumming so powerfully inside him that you think you might pass out?” Macky just stares blankly, twitching slightly as my algorithms force him to embrace his truth.  Finally, he relaxes again and says, “The thoughts of others don’t matter.  All that matters is that I have a cute boy to embrace and seed.”“Good, Macky.  We’ve made so much progress.  Do you think we’ve made progress?”“Yes, Andy.  You’re forcing me to face what I really am, but I’m thankful.  Now I can start looking for a tight virgin ass to make my own.”“You won’t have to look far!” I exclaim with a chuckle.“What do you mean, Andy?” Macky asks with a hint of concern penetrating his relaxed mental state.  “Well, now that you’ve finally accepted that you’re gay we can finish what we started last night and finally let you blow a load deep inside my tight virgin ass.  Isn’t that what you want?  To grab onto me tightly as you thrust your strong hips against me, sending all 8 inches of your juicy cock inside me, making me yell loud enough that it echoes through the whole house?” I ask, hoping to clarify his desires for him.“Oh No, Andy.  I am gay.  Deep down to my core gay.  And I’m glad you’re gay too and that you have my back like I’ll have yours from now on.  But we can’t be together.  We’re brothers.  I love you, but as a bro and a friend.  Last night was complicated.  I was repressing so much.  It just erupted out of me, but I shouldn’t have let things get so out of hand with you.  We can’t ever be together like that,” Macky says with quiet certainty.  I can’t believe this shit!  Frantically, I check the readings on the device, also making sure the probes are still adhered properly.  Fucking Damnit!  Everything checks out, so it’s not possible for him to lie to me right now.  After everything I’ve been through!  After all the years of Macky punishing me for his repressed homosexuality and still making me fall head over heels for him!  After possessing his cute and fit little brother so he could have someone hot enough for him to cum inside of!  After going through the damn trouble of making him embrace his masculine and powerful gay desires!  And he still doesn’t want to be with me!  I’m so fucking mad that without even thinking I grab the secondary protocol device and begin furiously making adjustments.  This was definitely not part of the plan, but I don’t give a fucking fuck!  I hit that green button and prepare to override Macky’s familial love and respect for me as his little brother, Andy.   Macky trembles powerfully, his brain being pummeled by algorithms designed to reprogram his thoughts and perception of the world.  “Do you think I’m hot?!” I ask angrily, constantly raising the power and intensity of the device’s impulses.  “No- Can’t-You’re my little brother, Andy.  Please….”“You want me.  Tell me you want me!  Tell me you want to touch my body!”“W-w-w-w-ant you…NO WAIT-yes, want you.  Want to touch your-Andy, please!- oh no-yes…yes I want to touch your body,” Macky says as he goes back and forth from malleable victim and resistant older brother.  It really is admirable how much he is able to fight this, but there are 30 power levels and we just barely cracked past level 7.  Click-just raised to level 8.  “You want to taste my tongue and kiss me passionately because you are in love with me.  I am your little brother, Andy, who you’ve known and loved as a brother all your life, but now it’s time to see me as a lover.”“Noooooooo…Andy, you can’t-“Click-level 9“Your tongue…want to taste your tongue.  Kiss…you….want to-no why am I thinking this?  You’re my brother! I can’t-“Click-level 10“Yes, kissing your mouth is good.  Mmmmmm yes, Andy, I love the taste of your mouth because we’re lovers-OH MY…no this is wrong this is so wrong!  I won’t! I-“ Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Level 15“Unnnnnnggggggggggyeaaaaaahhhhhhunnngggggggggg,” Macky groans as he thrashes his head around, being overwhelmed by the surge of overpowering brain power algorithms.  “I love you Andy!  I crave you as a lover.  Want to hold you in my arms every night-feel your warmth comforting me-I want to be the person you wake up next to every morning.  Yes, Andy!  From now until the end of time,” Macky exclaims with enthusiasm and passion as he looks at me with fierce longing in his eyes, longing to hold me in his arms and protect me from the dangers of the world.  The only thing keeping him from sweeping me into his arms is the device, still immobilizing his body by pouring mind control algorithm impulses into his brain because I’m not done with him yet.  “You love me, but you also want to dominate me.  To make me your little boycunt.  You want my mouth around your thick man meat,” I say, getting hard again from the sheer amount of perversion taking place.  “Waittttt-Bbbbbut I love you.  Don’t want to dominate—Maybe just a little….No! I just want to hold you close and never let go-“ Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Level 20“OhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhFFUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKKK,” Macky yells as his back arches, the veins swelling on his neck as the muscles in his neck and face contract.  “Yeahhhhhh Andy, I fucking love you so much, but don’t forget that I own your tight boycunt.  Yeah, you’re gonna be using those fine lips and your smooth throat to service my meat.  Fuck yeah, you’re a whore, but you’re my whore that I fucking love,” Macky says with a sneer and a shade of pride and self-confidence that has never existed in him before.  Fuck I’m so hard right now, watching him squirm as his brain is pounded over and over again by my program, making all these utterances of his permanent changes to his personality.  I smile wickedly as I realize we’re almost done.  Just one more thing left, and I suspect it will rouse Micky’s last shred of fight.“You want to seed my tight virgin hole.  You want to mark my hole as yours for life by sliding your 8 inch cock inside me, and fucking a load of your cream inside me.  My moans and shouts will turn you on so much as you look down and see me, your little brother looking up at you, hungry for your cock inside me, and so grateful to be so full of you.  That’s where your cock belongs- Inside me!” The new Macky is squirming in delight, but as expected, the old Macky returns for one last showing of his immense willpower.  “Seed your fucking tight virgin-HOLY SHIT NO!  NO NO NO WAY I—-want to mark your hole as mine for life.  That’s right, this load will coat your insides and then you’ll be mine forever, Baby Bro.  Hope you beg for Big Bro’s cock to give you what you need, a nice and creamy—GOTTA FIGHT UNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG PLEASE!!!!  YOU’RE MY LITTLE BROTHER!!!!!—and when I look down and see your delight as my cock fills you up, I’ll roar with satisfaction as I give you what you need and fill your tight hole with my—COME ONE, MACKY!!  FIGHT IT!!!! YOU GOTTTAAAA ARRGGGGHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!”I let Macky thrash around, allowing him to be convinced he can fight back and beat it.  Mmmmmmm, watching him thrash his head around, helplessly trying to hold on to his decency is making me so hard.  I can feel Andy’s precum leaking out of his cock like a faucet.  Holy Shit, I think I feel it dribbling down my leg!  Enough of this Bullshit! I reach into Macky’s boxers and grab onto his hard cock and begin pumping him powerfully, bringing him closer and closer to orgasm, before stopping right as he reaches the orgasm level.  “Does that feel good?!” I ask as I pump Macky and edge him for the 17th time.  “Yesssssssssssssss!” Macky screams in delight, desperately thrusting his hips and trying to hump his cock into my tight grip.  “Pleaseeeeee let me cum!”“You know what you have to say, Macky!  SAY IT!  SURRENDUR!”“No, but I can’t!  Gotta-“I remove my hand from his boxers, leaving him helplessly fucking the air as I edge him for the 18th time.  Tears start flowing down Macky’s face as he humps away, so powerfully that he’s shaking the bed.  “PLEASE, ANDY!!!!  I NEED TO CUM!” Macky yells with panicked desperation. I reach over and pinch one of his perky nipples, making him moan as I menacingly look him in the eyes and tell him, “Say it!”“OHHHHHHH FUCK OKAY!   YOU WIN I SURRENDUR, JUST PLEASE LET ME CUM!”“Glad you saw things my way,” I say with a smirk as I reach into his boxers, making him smile and moan with giddy relief and delight as I pump him closer and closer towards the biggest orgasm of his life thus far.  Macky is moaning in appreciation, curling his toes, and smiling as his face is carved into a close-eyed smile of ecstasy.  He’s grinding and thrusting his hips into my grip around his swollen and throbbing cock and right as his breathing starts huffing louder and faster and harder, making him look like a struggling triathlete and letting me know he’s just a few seconds from cumming, I finish him off and destroy whatever remnants of resistance remain inside his brain.  Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Level 30…Macky’s entire body seizes up and convulses with such power I worry he’ll snap in half as the maximum power of impulses flood directly into his brain!  His mouth is wide open, face bright red, and the veins on his neck threatening to burst as he tries to scream, but no sound comes out.  His back arches in spasms, making him flop in place on the bed like some sort of dolphin having an agonizingly powerful orgasm.  Then, nothing….Macky stares at the ceiling, no words leaving his mouth as a dribble of drool leaks out of his mouth.  Holy Shit I pushed too hard!  I fucking fried his brain!  What the fuck am I gonna-“My cock belongs inside of…you.  My thick manly cock belongs inside of you, My little brother, My lover, my boycunt.  Fuck yeah, Andy, you’re gonna beg me for my cream seeding your ass, and I’m gonna hold you so tight to me as I muffle your screams of pleasure with my mouth.  I fucking love you, Andy!  I’m ready to spend the rest of my days holding you tight late at night and early in the morning, and pounding your boypussy whenever I need to,” Macky says with absolutely no resistance.  He starts convulsing and shouting again, this time because he’s feeling the delayed sensation of blowing an enormous load in his boxers, soaking the entire crotch area and still dumping enough hot cream that it oozes out the thigh holes.  Macky just quivers, sighing with relief and satisfaction before I seal in the session with the electrical impulse, knocking him unconscious from the overwhelming power of the previous events, and permanently sealing all of the new and kinky changes to Macky.  Even though my cock is throbbing and dripping precum down my leg now in a steady stream, I look over at Macky, slumbering peacefully, and decide to cut him some slack before the big game tomorrow.  The guy needs his rest and there will be plenty of time to spend with him afterwards.  I walk down the hall and hop onto Andy’s bed, realizing that my plan has finally pulled through.  Not bothering to change these wet with precum boxers, I just scoop up as much of Andy’s precum as possible and rub it all over his face like lotion, enjoying the smell of his boy juices as I drift off to sleep.  Fucking hell yeah, transferring my consciousness into your tight and lean boy body was the best decision I ever made, Andy.  “So fucking hottt…..” are my last words of the night as I drift off.   The Big Day“Did you see that play?!” Macky asked me as he lovingly hugged me in his arms and lifted me into the air after scoring the winning touchdown.  He was being borderline too affectionate, and I had to hiss at him to let me down when he instinctively tried to kiss me.   “Bro!  We’re in public!  Put me down so we can take pictures.  You’ll get your reward later!” I hiss playfully into his ear.   He begrudgingly puts me down as we pose for some photos together.  “Hey Andy.” “Yeah, Bro?” I answer. “You’re the best little brother ever.  I just wanted you to know that.  I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I know what’s gonna be getting into you when we get back to the house.” “You’re the best big brother ever.  I love you, and I’m so happy to give you your victory fuck.” He gives my ass a playful squeeze, risking getting seen in public.  The element of danger makes it so hot.  Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to get back to the house.  You know, Macky sure is right- I’m the best little brother ever…or I would be if I actually was his little brother.   We’re done with all the pictures and I’m riding shotgun with Macky, who is still elated after scoring the winning touchdown.  Normally he’d shower with the rest of the team, but he practically carried me to the car, bent on getting home ASAP.   “Are you sure you don’t wanna shower with your bros and celebrate your win?” I ask him as we cruise along the road to our home.   “You’re the only bro that matters and we’ll be celebrating, alright,” he says with a wink that makes me blush.  I’ve been in Andy’s body for 3 days now, and I’m already realizing this was the best decision I’ve ever made.  I flash my now older brother a devilish smile before I reach a toned arm over and grab his thick man meat, massaging it with my soft hands and enjoying the feeling of it growing in my grip. “ohhhhhhhhhh fuck….Andy that feels so good.  Wait, we should-“ “Start celebrating right now” I interrupt as I lean over at the redlight and grab his face, forcing my tongue into his mouth and enjoying this passionate kiss as he explores my mouth also.  “I know you’re good for more than one round of celebration” I tease him as I slide my hand into his shorts and grab his rod and begin stroking him.  I know he can’t wait any longer when he’s moaning like a bitch in heat as he thrusts into my grip on his cock.   “Oh fuck bro!   GOD YEAH MAN THAT FEELS SO GOOD!” Macky shouts as I begin sliding his 8 inches into my mouth and down my perfectly relaxed throat.  He surprises me when he involuntarily thrusts the last 2 inches into me, immediately bringing my lips down to the base of his cock, forcing me to take in the sweaty man odor of his trimmed bush.  I breathe it in gladly as I get ready for one hell of a car ride home.  “OH FUCKKKKKKK!!!!” Macky shouts as he dumps endless rivers of cum down my throat.  I hungrily eat every last drop, making sure that whatever didn’t get dumped directly down Andy’s throat is immediately consumed.  Macky is shivering with pleasure and giddy joy and I actually have to grab the steering wheel because he doesn’t see that truck that just slowed down.  “Holy Shit Balls that was close dude!” Macky shouts, breaking out of his euphoria.  We both laugh together and he just says, “We’ll have to practice the road head more.  I’ve gotta work on my focus,” he tells me with a wink as he reaches his hand and grabs my firm rod through the silky fabric of these shorts, firmly gripping and massaging the rock hard mound trapped in this compression underwear.  He keeps rubbing me until a wet spot forms on my compressions, a nice healthy flow of Andy’s precum as well as my squirming body and attempts to keep my moaning under control let Macky know how much I want him, how much his loving brother, Andy, is turned on by him.  When he slips his hand into these compression shorts and wraps his strong fingers around Andy’s marble hard cock, he knows this cock is hard because I want his body and his dick cumming inside me as our sweaty bodies are grinding all over one another.   He looks at me intently, squeezing, massaging, stroking, jacking my cock as I flash him a smile, gasping for breath and ask him, “Are we there yet?”“Bro, you better be a good boy.  You ask me that again and I’ll pull this car over right now and we’ll start on the side of the road,” he says with wickedly cute mischief.   I just lay back and relax, moaning in appreciation as Macky expertly pumps my cock, bringing me closer and closer to shooting a load all over his new car.  Fuck, that would be hot!  Then we can both lick it off together.  Mmmmmm God, I love Macky, but I love possessing his little bro, Andy, even more! Thank God, we just got home!  The folks are still in Napa Valley-guess they figured we had things under control, and boy do we!  Macky is cursing as he frantically tries to shove the key to unlock the front door.  I can smell his musky and manly sweat, still fresh from his football game where he made his team and his little brother proud.  *CLICK*“Finally!” Macky exclaims as he opens the door and I eagerly follow him inside.   *UMF* He pushes me playfully and forcefully against the wall, forcing his mouth over mine as he finally gets to express everything he feels inside.  I know this is my doing, but it is just so fucking hot to let him think these are his own thoughts and feelings.  Macky briefly comes up for air.“Oh Fuck, Andy I love you so fucking much.  I want your lean, toned boy body so much.  To be on top of you and feel you underneath me as I hold you tight and show you that you belong to me.”He smiles at me adoringly before locking his mouth back over mine, wrestling his tongue with my surprised mouth before he starts grinding his crotch against my own, making me moan with longing as his force and grinds keep me helplessly pinned against the wall.  Macky grabs my arms and pins them against the wall above my head.  For fun I try to escape his grip, but with his strong arms I remain completely locked in place.  Macky giggles at my futile attempts.  “I love you, my little loverboy,” he says as he closes his eyes and leans in to take a deep huff of my neck.“Andy, you smell so gooooood” Macky gasps before he starts licking up and down my neck, taking in my taste, finding a spot next to his bite mark from a few days ago, sucking so hard I can almost feel the blood vessels bursting!  I yelp, my cock twitching from excitement, something he can still feel since he is still grinding his hard cock and crotch against my own.“And you taste fucking fantastic,” he says before locking his mouth over mine again, letting go of my arms as he wraps his arms around me, cupping my tight boy ass cheeks and lifting me into the air.  I wrap my legs tightly around him and circle my arms around his neck as he effortlessly carries me upstairs.“I bet your virgin boycunt tastes even better” he coos, giving my ass such a tight squeeze that I yelp before he shuts me up with another sloppy kiss.  *OOMF*I land on my back as Macky tosses me onto his bed and climbs on top of me.  The feeling of his weight on top of me is extremely comforting and with his new programing it must be for him too since he wants nothing more than to love, protect, adore, and dominate his little brother, Andy.  Lucky for me, I’m the one inside Andy’s brain.   Macky grunts as he leans back, straddling me as he grabs my shirt by the collar and rips it in half.  He finishes ripping it off before he rips his shirt off too and leans back down to grind his chest against mine, keeping me trapped underneath his larger and more muscular body as the taste of his mouth and tongue take me to a heaven, the feeling of his hands grabbing and squeezing my tight boy pecs and nipples take me to whatever is above that.  Mmmmmmm I can see the passionate lover side of Macky.  He’s so loving and protective so far that I almost forget about the domination until he shoves his sweaty pit over my face, making me take in a huff and lick his pits clean after all the grueling and dirty sweat he earned on that hot football field.  Egging me on, Macky sighs with approval, telling me I’m being a good little brother.  His approval makes Andy’s cock dump out a stream of precum, making me moan out in desperation as I hear Macky tell me, “Mmmmmmm yeah, you have to earn the privilege of having my cock in your boycunt.  You gonna show your big bro how much you want it.  Go ahead, show me.”Macky gets off me and lays flat on his back, his shirtless body tantalizing and tempting.  He still has his football cleats and jock strap and football pants, etc. on, so I start by taking off his cleats and socks, getting smacked by a manly odor so strong I feel like I just got punched by a comic book villain named testosterone.  I can’t help but lick all over these grimy feet, making Macky squirm as I clean his ticklish feet for him.  I finally get up to the toes, using Andy’s mouth to suck each one individually until I’m sure there is no trace of his manly filth left.   I can’t help it anymore and strip off the rest of Andy’s clothes, wanting to show off my body to Macky and gain his approval.  As I finally get my tight compressions off (a difficult task with an erection this hard) Macky looks at me with a twisted mix of adoration and dominance.  Just that one look from him makes another drop of precum ooze out of Andy’s cock, making me go into a frenzy as I try to gain Macky’s approval so he’ll finally let my virgin boycunt be full of his 8 inch man meat.  I grab both waistbands, his shorts and his jockstrap, and I pull them down off his legs in one smooth motion before I toss them across the room.  Macky’s cock pops out and smacks his abs, making a pop sound that almost echoes through the room, eliciting a giggle from him that instantly morphs into a moan as I grab his cock with his little brother’s hand and begin pumping him with a tight and purposeful grip.  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh Andy, little bro, you’re a good little boycunt.  Keep showing me how much you want it.  Prove yourself to meEEEEEEEEEE- Oh FUCK!” Macky shouts as I keep pumping him while also using my tongue to gently and tantalizingly lap up the precum oozing out of his dick, setting off a firestorm of sensation through that fat cock head.  Macky begins thrusting into my pumping grip, hollering out as I keep flicking his cockhead with my tongue, teasing his cock and making him more and more frustrated as he wishes for nothing else than to feel full satisfaction for his wet with precum cock.  Finally roaring in frustration from my tease, which was just what I wanted, he gets up and roughly flips me onto my back, spreading my legs forcefully as he yells at me, “Oh I know exactly what you’re doing, little bro!  A little boycunt like yours is desperate to be full of big bro’s cock.  Well let’s see how you like a tease!” He says as he lowers his head between my thighs and takes in the boyish odor of my virgin hole, tightly licking rings around it, making my thighs literally convulse with anticipation and desire.  I gasp when he finally places the tip of his tongue right on the middle of Andy’s perky rose bud and slowwwwwlllllly begins forcing his tongue inside me.  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Mackyyyyyyyyyy” I can’t help but groan as he begins swirling inside me, getting me lubed and slick for his fat cock.  I grab Andy’s sensitive nipples and keep moaning out in longing and desire as I muse to myself how earth-shattering it is that this moment has finally arrived.  “Yeah keep moaning for me, you whore!  Your boycunt fucking loves it!” Macky grunts before thrusting his tongue back inside me, making me yelp and making my hole clamp down on his tongue so tight that he struggles to pull his tongue out of me.  “Damn, Andy.  You must really want it.  Show me how much you fucking want this cock,” Macky commands as he taunts me with that hard cock, playfully slapping my balls with it before circling it around my tight virgin hole, making me try to thrust against him in the hopes that maybe I can spear Andy’s virgin hole at least with Macky’s thick cock head.  “Oh you’re not ready for this meat yet, little bro.  Show me how much you want it.  Get yourself read for me!”“Yes Macky!  I’m sorry, Macky!  You’re too big for a virgin hole like mine” I gasp as I begin shoving Andy’s fingers into his virgin hole for the first time.  OOOOOHHHHHH FUCK ANDY IS TIGHT! Even though Macky loosened me up a bit with his tongue it still takes all I’ve got just to get a single finger all the way inside.  I sigh with relief as I finally get the finger inside me all the way to the base of my hand, and then I groan in pain as I try to gently pull the finger in random directions, hopefully stretching this hole enough to make room for another finger.  “You gotta do better than that if you want THIS inside you!” Macky shouts as he pumps his hard meat, enjoying the show.  “Right now, you better slide two fingers in easily into your whore virgin ass or you won’t get to feel me sliding inside you!”“Noooooooo I need your cock inside me!” I desperately respond.  “I can do it, Macky.  Your little brother cock whore can impress you and win the privilege of feeling you inside me!  Let me prove it!”Using all of my willpower and my immense and absolute control over Andy’s body, I try with all my might to relax Andy’s sphincters and ass muscles as I slide two fingers in all the way, gasping a huge breath and a sigh of relief as I get them in all the way until the top of my palm is jabbing against my hole.   “Fuckkkk yeahhhhh” Macky says with wide eyes and a predatory hunger as he watches me moan and squirm from the delight of finger fucking Andy’s tight hole.  I open my eyes and see him approaching me, finally willing to give me what I need, so I pull my fingers out and grab at his bed sheets as I wait for what’s coming.  “Unnnnnngggggggg OH MACKY!” I yell as he slowly forces the head of his cock inside my tight virgin hole.  Holy Shit!  I still don’t think I was ready for this!  But it feels so good to finally be filled!  Macky slowly pushes deeper and deeper inside me, using his strong hips to push, inch after inch.  The feeling of his thick cock stretching Andy’s deep insides is surreal!  And the feeling of Andy’s tight ass squeezing onto Macky’s cock as he just keeps pushing in is making me grip at those sheets and yelp out in Andy’s voice, “Oh my GOD!  Macky you’re so BIG!!!! UNnnnNNNNNGGGGG!!!!”   I thrash my head around a bit and squirm from head to toe as Macky finally leans down, sweaty chest on my chest as he grunts and thrusts the last two inches in HARD.  I see just white for a second as I blank out, overwhelmed by Macky’s 8 inches fully inside me, feeling completely full and penetrated.  And even though he’s giving me a chance to get used to his cock, he’s still moving his hips around in a swirly motion, making his fully plugged cock rotate and rub all the nerve endings so deep inside me I could never dream of reaching them on my own.  I wrap my legs around his strong ass and pull him tightly into me, grunting as Macky shoves his tongue back into my mouth and begins pulling his cock out.  The feeling of his cock leaving me and scraping against my nerve endings makes me feel both incomplete and hallucinatory, but then:“Ohhhhhhhhhhh FUCK!” I scream as Macky thrusts back into me in one hard, fast, motion, completely filling me up and making my back involuntarily arch.  “You FUCKING LOVE IT!” Macky hollers has he pumps his cock into my hungry hole, grunting as he pushes my legs up and wraps his arms around me, making it easier to fill me up.  “OHHHHHHH!!!    I” *THRUST* “FUCKING” *THRUST* *LOVE” *THRUST THRUST THRUST!!!!* “IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UNNNNNGGGGGGAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”I reach a hand and caress Macky’s back, helplessly pummelled underneath Macky’s strong body as he pumps in and out of my hole, talking so dirty to me and finally making me feel loved.  “Fuck yeah, Andy!  You’ve got such a nice tight hole.  FUCKING TAKE THIS SHIT!  TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU FUCKING LOVE IT!  YOU LOVE HAVING BIG BRO’S COCK INSIDE YOU!”“OH MACKY!  MY TIGHT HOLE FUCKING LOVE’S YOUR BIG BRO COCK!  UGHHHHH MMMMMMMMMMM PLEASE!!!  PLEASE FUCK ME HARDER-OH! FUCK MMMMM YEAH!!!!!”“SUCH” *THRUST* “A NICE” *THRUST THRUST* “BOYCUNT!  UNGGGGGGYEAH TAKE THAT DICK!” *THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST!!!!!!!!* “MACKY!!! THANK YOU, MACKY!” I holler in joy as I see the look of ecstasy in his face before he leans back down and buries his face in my neck, giving my hickey a hickey as he uses his hands to rub up and down my smooth and toned body, making special attention to my developing pecs as he grabs that lean muscle and squeezes, using his thumbs to flick my nipples.  This continues for almost half an hour, leaving me borderline hallucinogenic, when Macky finally says, “GET ON ALL FOURS!  I’M GONNA FUCKING CUM!  I’M SO CLOSE, ANDY!  BIG BRO’S GONNA BREED YOUR HOLE LIKE THE BOYCUNT SLUT YOU ARE!”I enthusiastically get on hands and knees as Macky lunges at me, spearing all eight inches inside me in one rough animalistic thrust!“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH” I scream in a shrill voice.“SHUT UP, ANDY!  FUCKING FUCK!  SO CLOSE!  DO YOU WANT THIS LOAD?!  YOU WANT BIG BRO’S HOT CUM FLOODING YOUR INSIDES!”“UNNNNNGGGGGG YES, MACKY!  PLEASE FILL ME WITH YOUR Hot CUM!!!!“I’M GONNA DUMP THIS LOAD IN YOU AND MAKE YOU MINE FOREVER!  THIS-UNNNNNNGGGGYEAH!!!!-THIS HOLE BELONGS TO ME NOW!”“YES MACKY!  MY TIGHT BOYCUNT BELONGS TO YOU NOW!  WHENEVER YOU WANT, MY HOLE IS YOURS!  I’M LUCKY TO RECEIVE YOUR HOT LOADS!” I yell as my face is scrunched up in overwhelming pain and pleasure.  I use my ass muscles to try to milk the cum right out of Macky’s cock, so desperate to be filled, but Macky just grabs on to me tightly and says, “NOT YET!”Fuck!  I feel my balls tightening.  I just can’t take it anymore!  The feeling of Macky filling up Andy’s hole and the satisfaction it brings me!  I start breathing deeply, grunting and moaning as the pressure builds.  But Macky can sense this; he grabs me by my throat and turns my head around as he tells me, “You don’t have big bro’s permission!”I clench tightly, holding back this orgasm as he keeps thrusting inside me, sliding his cock against all my stretched out muscles and nerve endings and pounding that abused prostate!  Oh FUCK!!! THIS IS SO HARD!  I NEED TO CUM OH GOD I NEED TO CUM!“PLEASE MACKY!” I wail with desperation.  The force of my effort to clench this orgasm inside is making my abs and groin feel like they’re going to rip into shreds.  I scream in agony as the pressure keeps building, refusing to be subdued by me.  I make a fist and desperately start pounding the bed as Macky keeps using his strong hips and abs to slide his meat in my smaller body, hovering over me in a display of ownership and dominion.  “MACKY PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!” I scream as tears begin streaming down my face.“OH, ANDY! HERE IT COMES!   HERE-UNNNGGGG-IT FUCKING-OH SHIT-CUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMSSSSSSSSSS!” Macky roars as he finally grabs onto me and pulls me so tight into his final thrust that I think our bodies might merge.  He digs that cock deeper and harder than ever before as a flood of cum explodes out of his cock, making my hole feel warm and full as he keeps grunting, fucking ropes and ropes of cum into my satisfied boycunt.  “OHHHHH FUCK!” Macky yells as he looks down and sees that he’s cumming so much that each thrust is squeezing previous cum out of my flooded hole, making room for the next load that shoots out of his orgasmic cock.  I Finally let go and I can’t even describe what I feel as my untouched cock finally gets sweet sweet relief.  I just pass the fuck out!I wake up several hours later, or at least I think it’s several hours later.  It’s dark in Macky’s room now, so I’m guessing it’s night time.  I’m still pinned down comfortably on my stomach as his larger and more muscular body is passed out on top of me.  His cock is soft now, but it’s big enough that it’s still plugged inside me, bringing me a sense of comfort and safety as I drift back to sleep, a smile plastered on my face as Macky’s light snoring serves as my lullaby.  I briefly have a flashback to the game we went to together just two short days ago when I first started making my move.  Oh how far we’ve come (and cum) since then.“I love you, Macky,” are my last words right before I close Andy’s eyes, finally happy that I have the perfect life.

[subzeroiceskater]

Nice.

“I thought you liked girls! Didn’t I see you swooning over Pride and Iris?”

“Netto-kun, I was what, eleven? Twelve?”

Bisexuality? Not that compulsory heteronormativy isn’t a thing but. Well, personally speaking, I’d just like to have it acknowledged and not be the binary of “you’re either straight or gay”.

“His name is Jomon Teruo.”

“Jomon?”

“As in Japan’s Jomon Electric megastore?” Rockman chimed in.

“That’s it. His grandfather is the CEO.”

… Now, on top of that, he was beholden to some snotty rich kid. The spawn of one of the country’s most affluent name-brand families, in fact. They’d probably ride off into the sunset together in a luxury sedan, flocked by enough maids and servants to make Yaito-chan jealous.

I wonder if Teruo was chosen just because he’s canon rich to serve this role. Yeah, I’m just skipping to the parts where he gets mentioned.

“My counsellor recommended I check out Japan Club. That’s where I met Teruo-kun. He was super welcoming, and we planned all sorts of cultural events together to promote awareness.”

That’s actually pretty sweet. Good on you, Teruo.

The geek delivered a chaste kiss to the now-standing Tohru’s cheek, an act which caused Netto discomfort. “C-cancelled. S-so I flew here instead.”

“H-hi there, I-I’m Jomon Teruo.”

“Hikari Netto.” They shook hands, and the seated one noted the latter’s stutter.

So this was the wolf himself. Not what Netto imagined. The freckled hafu wore a baggy newsboy hat, rimless vintage pink sunglasses, long-sleeved shirt with circle of iron filings splaying the front and lightning bolts running up the arms, white slacks, and utility belt. He looked more like a mechanic or a rock and roll delinquent than the grandson of an electronics magnate. The only overt indicator of his wealth was his one obnoxious pierced ear, flaunting a diamond earring.

To be fair, this is probably more canon and in-character than everything I’ve ever done with Terry. BUT this is just straight up pulling from his game appearance from the mentions of “geek” and the stutters. This is just straight up his canon design as well, which, in my opinion, is A Look.

Although, I’m assuming if they’re older in this fic, they’d somehow dressed differently? The author is mixing game canon into the anime one (which I’ve never seen. To be honest, if Terry had ever appeared ONCE I would’ve watched the whole thing a million years ago, lol favoritism).

Although, hafu? Where did that come from? Terry's not said to be half-anything in the text or anywhere else in canon--absolutely nothing wrong if he was but this is the only place that mentions it for some reason?

That’s not really based on any canon thing at all. Is it because he was renamed Terry in English? That won't make sense in the Japanese setting of this fanfic? Like, even Terry could just be a nickname from Teruo. Teri is even still a a Japanese electric term.

N-not at all. L-lemme tell ya, robots are fascinating. A-and you’re apprenticing under Aoki Makoto? S-she’s a legend in the robotics community.”

“You should let Teruo-kun have a look at what you’re working on,” Tohru proposed. “Robotics are his specialty.”

“Q-quit it, Tohru-chan.”

Drat. He was modest too.

Teruo’s actually pretty cool with this? I’m anticipating the heel turn any time now but this is pretty nice. Based Teruo, loving and supporting robotics, female scientist and his fiancé.

Putting together Terry and Copybots is such an obvious thing that I'm mostly glad someone else did that!

A genius who could match pace with Tohru’s intellect, wealthy and reputable, with a sturdy career. Netto had nothing to offer. Teruo was everything he couldn’t be.

Well, yeah, Terry/Teruo’s shown to be good with robotics and have a rich grandpa but, seriously, Netto. This is a little too much, pfft. Although, that is the point of a pining romantic fanfic, I suppose. I’ll be honest, I haven’t read fanfics for a long time. It just feels more like the plot is leading the characters on and slotting them into types instead of letting the IC personalities and motivations arise naturally or speak or whatever.

And now I’ll turn into about myself. Am I any better with my own stuff? Nope! Author did this the same reason I do my own art—coz it amuses ‘em.

“His boyfriend is rotten! A scoundrel! The heavenly bodies foretell it!”

Yep, it’s definitely not me Netto-kun likes. Teruo-kun wouldn’t harm a fly! Tohru relished the garlic in his dumplings.

HERE WE GO 😈

The powwows a directionally inadept Dingo held asking his tomahawk for counsel locating Maha Ichiban’s customers came to mind, and Netto justly grew skeptical.

What? Err… You know what, I’ll just concentrate on the Teruo parts. For my own peace of mind. I don’t want to get legit mad again.

Tohru was entitled to the world. On Teruo’s lanky arm, that attitude represented a concrete, dynastic legacy. If the cost of that felicity was that he himself would fade, amen! Tohru’s contentment justified the tribulation. He could take it. For his beloved, he could learn to suffer the grief.

Yeah, this kind of thing. It feels more like Teruo is just an obstacle for the eventual realization of Netto’s true love. Like any trope, it’s not that’s necessarily bad but this is a little too on the nose and a little too overwrought for me. xD Maybe Netto was too different in the anime but I don’t really hear Lan thinking or talking like this, even as a grown up or in love. It’s just stuff like the author is blatantly going “hurry it up and get together” but at the expense of the story. It’s…well, “fanfic” writing.

I’m not explaining myself very well. This is why I don’t write fanfic myself, lol.

“Based on the evidence, we’ve secured a warrant to take Sparkman’s suspected operator, Jomon Teruo, into custody”

HERE WE FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Now that you mention it, Teruo did express a dubious interest in our research. Gah! Romeda-san was right!” He smacked himself, realizing the phony psychic’s prediction had come to fruition. “The jerk is shady!”

He’s a robotics guy who’s interested in robotics stuff. He seemed perfectly normal when you talked to him. How is that shady.

His vilification of Teruo abruptly gained legitimate weight.

😈 😈 😈 To be clear, I’m not mad or anything. This is actually a lot more fun than I expected it to be. It’s more funny than anything. Like, here’s Teruo being an okay dude who’s being guiltily vilified by Netto…but no, he was right, all along!

“Even though I’m not worthy of your love, even though I’ll never be able to give you the things he can, that doesn’t change the fact that I will protect you, Tohru-kun! No matter what! You may hate me for it, but there’s no avoiding it anymore!”

Teruo’s a shit Netbattler. You’re one of the best. Go beat his ass netbattling or something, Netto.

He located Teruo immersed among the gizmos in his lab. Untidy as a hoarder, blueprints and tools lay disorderly, necessitating Tohru dance around the innumerable hazards to his feet. His grease monkey boyfriend was hunched over a project, welding. Blue embers licked the metal as he mended a garish scar begriming its surface.

Okay, I can’t believe how cool Teruo is in this fic. I mean, he gets to do robotic-labs shit, even if just by implication. What the fuck.

“Yo, Tohru-chan!” Teruo jerked his helmet up.

He was tinkering with a robot. A Copyroid.

No…

“What have you done?”

“My oh my, that Hikari Netto did a number on you, didn’t he?” Teruo patted the Copyroid. “I rewired it. Optimized its destructive capability. Rebooted it without those pesky inhibitors. No safety parameters. I’ve accomplished what Aoki Makoto was afraid to do.”

The loss of the Jomon family successor’s stutter unnerved him. Was it all a ploy?

Like, this is legit cool, man. Teruo’s legit badass. Haha. Based. And he’s giving orders to the neo-WWW? Like, some kind of Dr. Wily analogue? So cool, even if just implication.

Oh, by the way, that’d be welding mask, and not helmet.

“Gramps is holding out on me. Reassessing my status in his will. He dissed robotics and threatened to sever my funding, the geezer! When I caught wind on an Undernet BBS that these lowlife goons were planning to bust out the Professor, I extended my services. In exchange, the Professor lends me his soldiers. It’s a hostile takeover, baby!”

Fuck yeah. I actually love this. This is pretty much his scenario from the game but extended a little more villainously.

“After everything we’ve been through! It was a lie?”

“Never. I do love you. Gonna give you the world, Tohru-chan. Picture it. Us, unlimited coin, and a controlling interest in the organization!”

“You can walk away! I’ll speak to the Net Police! We can hammer out a plea bargain!”

“Aww, how swell of you to defend me. When this is over, you and I are due for a heckuva holiday. Hmm? The Southern Isles?”

And it turns out he genuinely loves Tohru? Like, in his own earnest way? Based.

“You ain’t gonna win! No siree!” Teruo taunted, priggishly unhinged after having been liberated of his tiresome fake speech impediment and goody two-shoes public persona.

The duplicitous jerk! He really was the spoiled rich kid Netto thought!

Okay, but I wanna argue that I don’t think that Teruo (Terry in BN4) was faking—the stutter at least. Terry’s thing is at his heart, a coward. The stutter was him being a scaredy-cat because he was nervous trying to trick Lan and him getting a confidence boost was thinking he’s succeeded. There’s the heel turn I’ve been waiting but the whole way getting here was so fun (and honestly short) so I don’t mind as much.

“Bourgeois slime, I’m gonna enjoy pixelating that disrespectful runt of yours!” Teruo spat.

I was gonna say how weird for him to use bourgeois as insult when he’s the richer one but I just looked it up and this usage is correct: bourgeois relates to the middle-class. Whoops. I also just found out that I’ve been understanding the slang “bougie” wrong all this time. Educational!

Neither Teruo nor Sparkman abided by restraint. Divorced of commitment, they cut loose, exactly as Teruo stipulated, with “extreme prejudice.”

And Teruo completes transformation to vaudeville villain. He’s still fun, though.

Teruo threw caution to the wind. Resorting to cheating, he spammed Extra Codes to push Sparkman to the limit, mashing his PET like his life depended on it. “Take this! And this! And this! Heh heh heh!”

Can it really be called cheating if this was never meant to be a fair legit fight in a contest with rules. Teruo’s just being a poor sport in general. Which is still canon characterization, btw.

“Garbage!” Sparkman was literally falling apart. “You may excel at repairing machines, but you sure stink at Navi operation!”

“Sue me! I’m a robot specialist, not a NetBattler!”

Rockman mocked, “Arguing? Trust between operator and Navi is key!”

“You’re such a hot shot! Why don’t you fix this useless robot body?”

“I oughta sell you for scrap!”

Yeah, this is just from the game. Although, Teruo should be able to do something about the Copyroid body. Okay, you know what, I’ve always want a Full Synchro between them. What’s that? The point of Terry’s story was how he’s so bad at Netbattling and he couldn’t get along with his Navi?

Well, more reason for them to overcome their differences and finally be true battle buddies. Honestly, that’s part of the whole “Terry gets a friend, learns to be less of a terrible shit and gets his life on track” fanfic idea I’ve had since I played his game.

Anyway, he gets arrested. And…hired an assassin to try take Netto out? Lmao, still badass. That’s it for him. I tried looking for that time travel thing but, nothing. I think from context, this is just because this whole story was the time travel thing? Well.

That was more entertaining than I thought it would be. I’d have to wonder why Terry of all people but it may be as simple as he was a rich jerk who never appeared in the anime and so good for a retelling. He was far more important in this story than pretty much anything else I’ve ever seen, outside of my own stupid doodles, hahahaha.

[katerbees]

A Sherlolly Halloween part 2

Pt 1 here: https://katerbees.tumblr.com/post/166457341430/sherlolly-halloween-pt-1

Pt 1.2 here:https://katerbees.tumblr.com/post/166511390155/sherlolly-halloween-part-12

This Halloween takes place in Season four after TST and before TLD. Ahhhh I can’t wait until these two get their lives together and get a nice Halloween

Halloween 1 year ago

Molly adjusted her wig. Damn thing was so itchy. She had decided to take Rosie over to see Mrs. Hudson and have some photos taken of the two of them dressed up. She hoped she would not run into Sherlock while she was there; he was in no state fit to be around a child. He had turned into a goddamned smackhead idiot since Mary had passed.  Molly had begged him to stop, had cried and cried, but of course all he said was “’It’s for a case,” and walked away from her.

You can’t help a person who doesn’t want to be helped, Molly thought, bouncing Rosie from one hip to the other. Molly spent most of her time these days at Bart’s, and John’s flat these days. While she had certainly meant the vows she had taken as a godmother, she hadn’t anticipated needing to fulfill them so intensely.  She had come to love Rosie with her whole heart. She knew she could never fill the void of Mary, but she knew she would always be there for the little girl, no matter what.

She exited the tube, feeling slightly ridiculous in her costume. However, many women stopped to tell her how cute she and her daughter looked in their coordinating costumes. Molly corrected the first couple of people of people, “Oh, thank you, she’s my Goddaughter” but quickly gave up and just accepted the compliments, while sending a silent prayer up to Mary to forgive her.  

She found her way to Baker Street and knocked on the black door. Mrs. Hudson answered.

“Oh Molly! Rosie! So good to see my girls!” She yelled, pulling them in to the flat. “Now I’m so sorry dear, but I have no idea quite exactly what you two are supposed to be.”

“Well,” Molly began excitedly, “I’m Elsa” she gestured to her long white braided wig like it was supposed to be a dead give-away, “and little miss Rosie is Anna.”

“And who are those people? You both look adorable. But I have no idea what that means.”’ Mrs. Hudson replied, taking Rosie from Molly’s arms.

“It’s from a Disney movie. Super popular right now.” Molly smiled. Sitting down her tote bag, full of diapers, milk, and toys.

Molly heard shouting from up above. “No…” she groaned. She thought to herself, but apparently the words had left her mouth without her noticing.

“Oh yes. He’s on about something again. Hasn’t eaten for days. I think he might be on those drugs again. I keep telling him, chasing Mary, God rest her soul, to the grave isn’t going to bring her back.” Mrs. Hudson instinctively tightened her hold on Rosie, who was now trying to play with Mrs. Hudson’s necklace. “No no my darling, here let’s find a nice stuffy for you to play with.” Mrs. Hudson moved towards a basket she kept filled with toys.

Molly worried her lip. She was so over Sherlock and his stupid bullshit. But she was his friend and she still worried about him. Especially since him and John were still on the outs. She sighed.

“I’m going to go up and check on him. Milk and diapers are in the bag.” Molly said.

“Oh thank you. I’d really appreciate that Molly, you know he is so fond of you. Even if he doesn’t show it. I can tell. Here, take this tray of biscuits and see if you can trick him into eating some.” She handed Molly a tray that had been sitting on the kitchen table. “Me and miss Rosie here will just be reading this nice book”

Molly took the tray and headed up the stairs. Her mind wandered back to Halloween last year. She had gotten dumped, and Sherlock had been making out with some poor girl that he was using to get to a psychopath. He really was an asshole. And here she was, one year later, once again in a costume, getting ready to have her dignity torn to shreds. She just knew it. He was in such a bad place mentally and physically right now. She braced herself for a verbal assault, and knocked on the door.

“I have told you twenty four times now Mrs. Hudson to leave me alone! My mind does not require nourishment. I am at a critical juncture in my planning and I require nothing from you.” A deep baritone voice responded.

“It’s not Mrs. Hudson” was all that she could think to say.

She was shocked when he opened the door.

“Molly.” His stormy blue-green eyes, swept over her. “And in a costume?” his eyebrow raised

“It’s Halloween Sherlock” Molly said, her voice sounding much more tired than she felt.

“Ah. Yes. I suppose it is.” He responded, opening the door wider. He looked like shit. She had seen him look worse. She was shocked he was speaking in coherent sentences.

“Sherlock. Are you..” she began

“Molly, a good rule when it comes to asking questions and making inferences is to not ask a question you don’t want the answer to.” He cut her off.

 “Are you high right now?” Molly continued.

He opened the door to his flat wider. “At this exact moment I am minimally under the influence. Please. Come in.”

Molly walked into his flat. Books were strewn everywhere. Photos and maps tacked to the wall. He was clearly in the middle of a case. Always with the damn cases. Always ruining himself and ruining other people. FOR THE DAMN CASES. She found herself growing angry.

She realized then that she was still holding the tray she had been sent in with.

“Biscuits?” she asked through he gritted teeth.

“Oh just save us the trouble and thrown them.”

“Excuse me?” Molly replied.

“You’re angry with me. The last time I was using you slapped me. Three times to be precise. So get it out of your system so we can move forward.” He countered, calmly.

“Why. Is. Everything. A goddamned game with you!?” Molly responded, her voice starting to rise.

“Oh I assure you that this is a matter of like and death.”

“Yes. Sherlock. Yours! If you keep on like this you will die!” Molly was yelling now, and felt the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She slammed the tray down on the nearest table. “Don’t you care about that?”

“I do not believe this will kill me Molly. I am very careful with the amounts I take. This is for a case. A life will be saved.” Sherlock had walked towards her as he was speaking, now arm’s reach away. “Please. Just trust me.”

“Do you know how many bodies I have to cut into every week because somebody thought they knew they could handle it? People who OD? People who drive drunk? No one ever think it can happen to them.  But since you’re Sherlock fucking Holmes you won’t believe anyone other than yourself!” Molly was full blown screaming now. “And if you die from being a total idiot, because THAT is what you are acting like right now, what about John?”

“John hates me right now.” Sherlock cut her off, his voice becoming shaky.

“What about Mrs. Hudson?  And Me? And what about Rosie? Hmmm? Your Goddaughter is downstairs while you are up here in your glorified crackhouse. You took an oath Sherlock. I know you don’t believe in God, but I can’t believe that the oath you took that day doesn’t mean something to you. Do not let that little girl lose another person Sherlock!” Molly had closed the distance between them now and was shaking with anger as she looked up at Sherlock. His façade was cracking.

“Stop it!” he yelped “Please just stop it. He pressed his fingers to his temples, and breathed deeply, trying to keep the tears back. “Molly. Just believe me when I say this. Trust me. What I am doing is for John. It is for Rosie. It is for.” His voice caught in his throat and cracked “Mary.”

Molly found herself chest to chest with Sherlock. He was crying. Sherlock Holmes cried?

He continued. “Just please,” he pulled Molly close, “please keep looking after Rosie and Mrs. Hudson. I know I’ve been rubbish since Mary died. So has John. You’ve kept everyone together. Please. Just a little longer. Things can be like they used to be.”

Molly felt his hot, tears making the top of her head damp. She wrapped her arms around him. She had no idea what he was talking about. Seeing him like this scared her.

Molly stood there, rubbing his back awkwardly. She had imagined moments like this, but never envisioned them happening like this.  She wished she could tell him everything would be ok but she knew better. Things never just went ok for Sherlock Holmes.  Murderers followed him around, people killed their friends, and sociopaths even tried to get her involved in their schemes. Molly sighed.

“Can you at least tell me what’s going on? Please? Maybe I can help? I’ve helped before.” Molly offered.

“I don’t want to involve you. You have Rosie to look after.” He responded quietly.

“Me, Mrs. Hudson, and Harry all take turns. And I hate seeing you like this. Please. Let me help you.” Molly’s anger was starting to wane, replaced by a deep sadness for her friend who didn’t feel like he could share his burdens with anyone.

“I need you to meet me with an ambulance at a house in Brixton next week. John will be there. There won’t be anything dangerous. Just show up ready to do doctor things.”

“Sherlock? I’m a pathologist. John’s a doctor. Why would I need to be the one examining>”

“John will still be angry and he won’t trust anyone else. Not for what you will need to do.” Sherlock responded.

“What will I need to do?” Molly responded, peeling herself away from Sherlock, using every bit of self-restraint she possessed.

Sherlock refused to make eye contact with her.

“Sherlock?” Molly asked again, skepticism filling her voice.

“I will be very…altered. You will need to do my bloodwork.”

“Jesus Christ Sherlock. We just talked about this!” Molly felt the anger and the tears starting up again.

“I will be doing this with or without your help Molly.” Sherlock said, his voice slowly regaining the smooth composure it normally had.

Molly looked away. “Fine. But you should come down and see Rosie while you’re in your right mind. And Mrs. Hudson too. She’s worried to death about you.”

“Molly I..”he started to protest.

Molly held her hand up to silence him “No. You don’t get to keep making one sided deals with me. I’ve been your secret keeper before and I’ve never asked you for anything. You are going to march down there, you are going to apologize to Mrs. Hudson, you are going to play with Rosie and see how adorable she is dressed up for Halloween, and you are going to take our picture together because I want a damn picture of me and my Goddaughter and you will not complain about any of it.”

Sherlock stood there, realizing he had nothing to argue with. She was right. She had been a supportive friend and ally to him all these years. A constant source of stability and friendship.

“Right. Let’s go. By the way, what exactly are you supposed to be? That wig is damn itchy.”

Molly gave a small smile, it was all she could muster given the solemnity of their discussion.

“It’s from a Disney movie.” Molly responded quietly.

“I have no idea what that means.”

They went downstairs and had tea with Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock let her fuss over him like he hadn’t since Mary died. Sherlock played peekaboo with Rosie and snapped some photos of Molly and Rosie as Anna and Elsa. Mrs. Hudson insisted on taking one of the three of them. In the photo, Molly is holding Rosie, Sherlock has his arm around Molly. Sherlock covertly sent a copy to himself from Mrs. Hudson’s phone and looks at it all the time. He knows in two weeks, everything will change again. What he doesn’t know is: an east wind is coming.#

[samdukewieland]

Stuck Inside Media Diary Week 6

It was during this week that it dawned on me just how many movies I’ve watched since when I started keeping track of it. Then I got to wondering how long I keep this going-it’s kind of a bit, but also not one totally. I guess as soon as I go back to work and no longer spend my days playing PlayStation for hours on end and there’s no longer The Ticket to listen to for the day, that’s when it stops. Got real close to breaking the streak this week, which is probably the most harrowing thing I’ve been through in about 7 weeks (for the record, Week 1 was not documented as there was not much to document).

Sunday, April 26

Mad Men, “The Mountain King”, “Meditations In An Emergency” [Season 2 Finale], “Out Of Town” [Season 3], “Love Among The Ruins”

California Don Draper/Dick Whitman is a real nice sweet spot that Mad Men taps into this season, or at the very least it comes across as much more interesting than the adventures of young Dick Whitman. It’s, obviously, the most honest we see Don/Dick whenever he’s around Anna and makes you realize just how much work he puts himself through to not be honest to anyone or himself. But to see Jon Hamm go between both characters really knocks you back on your ass-Draper is a pretty surface level “showy” character display, at least in the first season, and I’m glad they decided to flesh him out now like this, by giving the audience something that isn’t so wooden or warn out (wooden is usually an insult, but take it to mean like a gorgeously polished oak table or redwood or something else you could stare at for hours). That ending with him and Betty at the kitchen table is an incredible showcase for both of them (I used to be very dismissive of Betty, but I realize now that that was super unfair and dumb of me! so it’s been kind of eye opening re-watching this and realizing that January Jones was/is actually really good)

Season 3 is probably my favorite season of the show, from what my brain can recall and it really hits the ground running. You can feel the energy radiating off of it (when they were writing it they had already won their first Emmys and were already looking highly favored to repeat success in season 2).

Plot Against America, “Part 5″

Beef House, “Army Buddy Brad”, “Prunes”

Three Busy Debras, “A Very Debra Christmas”, “Cartwheel Club”

People really underrate Adult Swim and Cartoon Network, especially when you find yourself with an awkward amount of time before watching something at a scheduled time. Just nice li’l 15 minute (barely) long episodes before The Last Dance, that’s nice. Also I think the last time I talked about Debras I compared it to Stella which I stand by, but I’d also throw in Strangers With Candy and Pee Wee’s Playhouse. So if you like that kind of stuff.

The Last Dance, Parts 3 & 4

Dennis. Rodman. The downside of these episodes is that they go fully into the time jumping aspects that it didn’t do as heavily in the first two installments. I also think they might play better if they ran right after the first two parts, rather than have that week long simmer. That’s like the most critical thing I can say about them, and it really just boils down to “I want more now.” Love that Isiah Thomas has no shame in being in the doc, despite just being taken to the dome by e v e r y o n e featured in it. Probably the best example of “no such thing as bad press”-it should be taught in business school or wherever agents go to school.

Monty Python’s Life Of Brian, Jones 1979 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

This was, somehow, a big blind spot in my Monty Python catalog. I think I very quietly went through a contrarian phase of “Monty Python isn’t that funny” somewhere in college, probably a li’l in high school too. It’s definitely been a thing I’ve been worried about re-visiting (I can’t remember the last time I watched Holy Grail, which I considered a religious text) and wanted to keep at arm’s length. That was very uninteresting and there is nothing at all interesting in me admitting that this movie’s really fucking funny; I was cackling when they bring out the huge stone during the stoning scene. The alien thing, while I respect in a purely “well, we don’t know how to get from this point to this point with it ‘making sense’ so let’s just go all the way to nothing”-stance, I’m just pretty allergic to anything Gilliam (I’m guessing) thinks of as incredibly clever. Life Of Brian: good!

Monday, April 27

Parks And Recreation, “Tom’s Divorce”

This feels like a very underrated episode of Parks, not in the conversation a lot, which feels like an oversight. I also just realized that it’s a Harris episode, so that could be why I am trying to champion it right now. Honest, I didn’t know until two minutes ago.

Mad Men, “My Old Kentucky Home”

Mmmmm. There’s an image from “Old Kentucky Home” of Roger Sterling that is still so shocking and I’m using a great deal of restraint to not post it above (because it’s super-duper racist), but I am still in awe that a buddy of mine from college used/uses(?) it as a cover photo on one of his social media accounts. IF only I could be so bold as he, or Roger Sterling in black-face. 

The Virgin Suicides, Coppola 1999 [as of now this is available on Prime]

Grew up in a pretty anti-Sofia household from at least one of my undisclosed older brothers. I was told very early on that she is overrated and not very good at what she does and I just never investigated to see if that was true or not until...well I guess last Monday night. Baby’s first Sofia Coppola movie, babe. Talk about a mood! I liked it, I think? Yer kind of a weirdo-guy if you really latch yerself onto loving The Virgin Suicides, but I guess I didn’t realize how much of the movie has Kirsten Dunst or the other sisters not talking before I saw it. Or that James Woods is a pretty convincing sad/quiet/weird guy (as tempting as it is to say that this is the last good thing James Woods was good in, the correct answer is Recess: Schools Out-maybe John Q ((I haven’t seen it.)) I wonder how many conflicting feelings Josh Hartnett inspired in teenage girls between 1999 and 2001. Great job, Sofia, sorry I’m late to the party and for the pre-conceived notions that were lodged into my stupid brain.

Tuesday, April 28

Mad Men, “The Arrangements”, “The Fog”

Attaboy to “The Arrangements” for giving Carla Gallo work (tsktsk for not finding a way to use her more). “The Fog” is pretty mediocre Sopranos karaoke episode; not great, but not as bad as I remember it being. The Betty being hazy sequences aren’t as long as I recalled them to be, so that was nice. Plus all the Gene stuff....man, I don’t know.

The Manchurian Candidate, Demme 2004 [as of now this is available on HBO]

Jonathan Demme is easily the most underrated director of his time, especially when it comes to shifting genres and putting such an overwhelmingly human touch to everything he works on. This is probably the movie that has the least amount of that, but it takes these wild swings and chances that you can’t help but respect the hell out of what you’re watching. It’s maybe the weirdest Denzel role I think I’ve ever seen, but he’s so good in it, but that’s just kind of the standard in Demme movies. What’s the worst performance you’ve ever seen in one of his movies? Is there one? I’ve never seen the original Manchurian Candidate so I don’t super know where or what this one lacks, but it’s so strange that it has made me want to go back and watch it again to try and understand or just watch the choices that Demme makes in this movie. How about Streep!

Joe Pera Talks With You, “Joe Pera Gives You A Piano Lesson”, “Joe Pera Watches Internet Videos With You”

I know I harp on this a lot, but it’s just so wholesome and I guess I’m just shocked that anything this wholesome could have Connor O’Malley’s prints all over it. I say that as an admirer of both things, but just can’t wrap my head around the two come together.

Wednesday, April 29 

Something Wild, Demme 1986 [as of now this is available on HBO]

This movie’s incredible. I knew absolutely nothing about it going in, other than it was Demme and Jeff Daniels (every time I saw the poster, my brain just registered Melanie Griffith as Catherine O’Hara, because that’s who it looks like at a glance). I was floored, I couldn’t believe a movie like this existed and I just hadn’t seen it (though, to be fair, I can’t imagine a person who doesn’t love Jonathan Demme going out of their way to see this in 1986, let alone 2020). And I’ve got some apologizing to do to Melanie Griffith after being pretty underwhelmed by her in Working Girl, I loved her in this. I also can’t help but wonder who has had a worse life (in the face) because of cigarettes, Ray Liotta or Al Pacino? If you want actual good discussion on this movie, I can’t implore the Blank Check episode with Scott Aukerman where they talk about it (there was also nothing more, personally, of a relief than hearing them talk about how it reminded them of a David Lynch movie and After Hours, thoughts I also had while watching, but am by no means enough of a Lynch-head or have seen After Hours enough to confidently throw that out in the open without someone else saying it first).

Thursday, April 30

Mikey And Nicky, May 1976

About once a year Criterion does a 50% sale and lately I’ve tried to take advantage of that (having a disposable income really lends itself to doing this). This was a movie I knew nothing about, other than Peter Falk was in it and ya know what, I really like Peter Falk. I wasn’t expecting an all-night movie, I was barely expecting a crime/mob movie, but it technically is. It’s about so much more: cowardice, male-friendship, our weaknesses and shortcomings as people, Ned Beatty being pissed about driving around New York City and getting lost. I’ve thought about it a lot since watching it and I’m glad that I own it and can re-visit it whenever I want.

Parks And Recreation, “Christmas Scandal” & “Special”

Joe Pera Talks With You, “Joe Pera Has A Surprise For You”, “Joe Pera Helps You Write An Obituary”

When you just look at these titles on paper (or screen, rather) without actually seeing them, it’s a pretty good setup as a joke. However, this is when the season and show takes a very melancholy turn that’s incredibly moving. (I think he might’ve actually lost his grandmother between seasons-very possible I have this wrong, I just know the character was based on her)

Friday, May 1

Mad Men, “Guy Walks Into An Advertising Agency”

Man, this episode.This is an all-timer on every level; not an ounce of fat on this one and maybe one of the funniest things to happen on this wonderful show.

X-Men: Dark Phoenix or, uh, just Dark Phoenix, Kinberg 2019 [as of now this is available on HBO]

Incredible that people in charge of an X-Men movie decided an actual team that should be depicted in this movie was Mystique (team leader, lol), Cyclops, Jean, Nightcrawler, Hank/Beast, Storm and Quicksilver. I mean yeh, this thing is really bad, potentially worse than Apocalypse, because that at least tried to have a personality. Though the train sequence here does have some redeeming qualities to it, so it might have the edge-I couldn’t tell you a single set piece from Apocalypse other than Oscar Isaac’s beautiful mug being caked in blue make-up (lol). Also, I gotta admit, mad respect to Kinberg for the incredible bait and switch with making Jessica Chastain look enough like some kind of mixture between Cassandra Nova and Emma Frost where you’re expecting her to be either of them and not just a shape-shifting alien.

Joe Pera Talks With You, “Joe Pera Shows You How To Do Good Fashion”, “Joe Pera Shows You How To Pack A Lunch”, “Joe Pera Talks With You On The First Day Of School”

I obviously want more episodes of this show, but if there were ever a perfect collection of stories, it was this.

Saturday, May 2

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 7

Tough, tough loss for Eric [insert Tom Colicchio “there’s always Last Chance Kitchen”] who I really admire and absolutely loved last season, I wish he had not gone on All-Stars this year, gained a couple more years, polish his technique and come back on the next All-Star season and sweep the floor. No shame in this loss though, because half of the competition this week was pretty dumb, though this was good build-up for Restaurant Wars, which the producers seem to always have hanging above their head as fan favorite and they feel like they need to throw Poochie in there.

Mad Men, “Seven Twenty Three”, “Souvenir”, “Wee Small Hours”, “The Color Blue”, “The Gypsy And The Hobo”, “The Grown-Ups”, “Shut The Door. Have A Seat”

I don’t know if I necessarily advise watching 7 episodes of Mad Men like I did this past Saturday. However, I think you’re kind of hard-pressed to not want to just keep the tap going on this one. Incredible stretch of episodes for January Jones and a real proper introduction to Henry Francis, probably a character I should hate, but have a lot of affection for. He might be the most sincere character on the show, which makes him pretty endearing. “Shut the Door. Have A Seat” is also one of the best getting the gang together sequences/movies I think I’ve ever seen. This is also a real, real tough stretch for Don, humanity wise, between his handling of poor Salvatore and his dealing with Betty once he finds out about she and Henry. Great season, great stuff.

The Death Of Stalin, Iannucci 2017 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Despite knowing (possibly) an embarrassingly low amount about Russian history, I dug it. Felt like the joke was probably on me partially, because of how little I know about Russian history, but is that gonna make me not enjoy watching Jeffrey Tambor in Hank Kingsly form bounce off of Steve Buscemi, Simon Russell Beale, Michael Palin and Jason Isaacs (holy shit, Jason Isaacs in this movie)? Nah. Though, be warned because this thing is probably ripe for your cousin who goes out of his way to tell you stuff like “well Doctor Strangelove is satire, that’s why it’s so genius.”

[hannahindie]

Not What She Seems-Chapter 1: The One Where Garth Ruins Dean’s Day

Dean x OC   and Sam x OC (friendship)

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are owned by the CW and all the people who were smart enough to create them and unfortunately this wasn't me. OC is mine though, so yay for creative license. This is rated M for eventual sexual content, language, and violence. There are descriptions/mentions of sexual assault, although not super graphic, so if that's something that will bother you please skip over this because I don't want to make you sad. This is the very first fanfic I have written, but I hope I’ve done the characters justice. This is not quite canon, due to some events being mentioned and others not, so be gentle. I know the timeline is a bit screwy.

The room was dimly lit, a single lamp with an old, ratty shade sitting in the corner the only source of light. Her vision was blurry as she opened her eyes slowly, but she could tell that the room was sparsely furnished. Her ears were ringing painfully as well, as if she had been standing near a loud speaker at a concert or loud machinery. She tried to remember where she'd been that would have been that loud, but her memory was too fuzzy. She glanced around. Besides the lamp, there was a small table and chair by the window and a nightstand next to the bed she was on. She noticed that the windows had heavy curtains that were covered in a thick layer of dust and could easily block out any light that tried to come through. There was a heavy wooden door with a large iron handle that, from her limited angle, seemed to be the only entrance and exit to the room. The entire room was exposed brick, and reminded her of a warehouse. In an attempt to figure out where she was, she tried to sit up and was immediately overcome by a wave of nausea. She closed her eyes to try to combat the feeling and became aware of something on her wrists. She cautiously opened her eyes and glanced down. Thick leather straps kept her tethered to the bed. Panicked, she began tugging at them but after a couple minutes of struggling, she gave up. She could feel similar restraints around her ankles. She closed her eyes again and fought back tears. There were no options. The location was unfamiliar and whoever had brought her here was obviously intent on keeping her. She was tired, groggy, and nauseated, with no recollection of how she'd gotten there. A creak echoed across the room as the door slowly eased open. A tall figure, hidden by shadow, slid past the door and carefully closed it behind him.

"Oh good, you're awake. I was worried I may have gone too far." The figure stepped out of the shadows. "How are you feeling? Groggy, I'm sure. I'm sorry, that's my fault. You see, I normally would have some help and your boyfriend...that was your boyfriend, correct?...well he gave me more trouble than I anticipated. I was distracted and maybe a little clumsy." As he approached the bed she tried to focus on his features, but her vision was still blurry, and she was so tired. So, so tired. He crossed the space quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "But you're here now! That's the important thing." He slowly pushed a strand of rogue hair from her face. "Oh, I have forgotten my manners. My name is Sebastian. What is yours?" She opened her mouth to answer but immediately closed it. What was her name?

"I...I'm not sure..." Her voice came out raspy and dry. She could feel panic swelling in her chest, and she struggled weakly against the shackles. "Where am I?...What...why am I here?" He smiled slightly.

"I should let you rest. Yes, you should rest." He stood, his tall form towering above her. "We will talk later, when you're feeling better. There's much to discuss." He quickly disappeared and the door shut quietly behind him. She closed her eyes and choked back a sob. She had to find a way out, but she was so tired. She fought against closing her eyes but finally succumbed to her exhaustion and whatever it was he'd drugged her with.

The rain was coming down in sheets, and the Impala's windshield wipers struggled to keep up. Dean squinted as lightning flashed across the sky, briefly illuminating his surroundings in a harsh white light before everything was sunk into inky blackness once more. He glanced over to see his brother, slouched against the door, fast asleep and faintly snoring. It was the first time in days that Dean had seen Sam relax enough to sleep. He was grimacing, but asleep.

"Better than nothing," Dean thought, turning his attention back to the road. It had been a rough couple weeks and as usual, the brothers were blaming themselves for things they couldn't control. Dean was handling it better than he normally would, but Sam had taken it hard. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, but then everything had gone tits up and, even though the spirit had been put to rest, Sam had been roughed up pretty bad and the girl they were trying to protect was killed. Although it didn't happen often, the rare failures were still hard to deal with. The kid was already full of guilt, although Dean had to wonder what hunter wasn't, including himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hard rock coming from his phone. "Shit," Dean mumbled as he dug around in his pocket trying to get to it before it stopped ringing. "Pinky's Porno Palace...what's your pleasure?"

"Dean? Is this...do I have the right number?" Dean heard the phone being fumbled as the person checked to make sure they had dialed correctly. "I don't remember calling a porn store...Dean?"

"Dude, yes, it's me." A sigh of relief sounded from the other phone.

"Well, thank goodness. It's Garth." Dean rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, man?" Dean heard the shuffle of papers as Garth searched for the reason he called.

"Yea, we have a case that came up, fairly close to you. Are you at the bunker?"

"We are heading there now, but we just got done with a case, we haven't slept in days. Can't someone else do it?" There was a beat of silence. "Garth, can't someone else do it, man? We're freakin' beat."

"It's pretty hectic out there right now, since the angels fell...there's just a lot...going on..." Garth trailed off and Dean glanced at Sam.

"Yea, yea, we'll be home-" Dean was interrupted as a giant bolt of lightning struck a tree, which caused it to crash into the road. "Son of a bitch!" Dean swerved to miss it and dropped the phone to put his hand back on the wheel. He began to feel the wheels give up their grip on the wet road. "Dammit!" He corrected the other way and the tires squealed in protest. He made it around the tree but the car went into a spin because of the over correction. Dean felt Sam fall into him as the car swerved violently. The car somehow came to a stop mere inches from the tree, although the Impala now faced the opposite direction. Dean was out of breath and his heart was racing. "I should lay off diner burgers," he mumbled, a hand on his chest. He looked at Sam, who seemed to be dazed but okay.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean gestured toward the tree.

"I don't know, Sammy, I just thought we needed a little excitement." Sam returned Dean's flippant answer with an eye roll.

"Guys! Hey, are you okay? Dean?" A tiny voice came from the floor near Dean's feet. He fumbled around and finally found his phone.

"We're fine. Send what you have to Sam."

"Okay, when-" Dean hung up on Garth and threw the phone in the backseat.

"I'm changing my number and if someone ever manages to find it, I'm not answering." He carefully turned the car around.

"What'd he want?"

"We've got a case. He's sending the stuff over. Apparently it's near the bunker." He looked at Sam. "You okay?"

"Yea, I'm fine." Sam pulled his laptop out of its bag and powered it on. "Looks like a man was killed in his home, all doors were locked, and it appeared that he'd been bitten by something." Sam squinted at the screen. "I'll have to look closer when we get to the bunker, but it almost looks like a vamp bite. Weird."

"Why's that weird?" Sam shrugged.

"That's not really a vamp's M.O., right? A locked house in a nice neighborhood, just to leave it behind? Something could have gone wrong, but that's too good of a target to just leave the dude laying there. I dunno." He shut his laptop and put it back in its bag. "I'll look at it more when we get home." Home. That word still felt foreign to Dean, an impossibility that would eventually be taken away.

"Yea, home...why don't you try to go back to sleep? We've still got a couple hours." Sam put his forehead against the cool window and watched the rain come down.

"Yea, sure, Dean," he replied quietly. Dean threw a worried look towards him but said nothing. The Impala sped through the rain, carrying the boys home in silence.

When she woke again, the ringing in her ears was gone, and her vision was no longer blurry. She noticed a glass of water on the nightstand and realized she couldn't remember the last time she'd drank anything. She shifted herself into as much of a sitting position as her bindings would allow and tried to reach the glass. Her fingertips brushed the slick glass but it sat just out of reach. She tried again and cried out in pain when her shoulder twinged in warning. She sat back against the headboard and tried to catch her breath. She still couldn't see anything that could tell her where she was, but she did notice a door she hadn't seen before.

"There's another door. Good. Remember that door," she mumbled to herself. "Who am I...who am I..." She closed her eyes and repeated the phrase like a mantra. "Who...am...I..." A face popped into her mind, a handsome thin face with a shock of unruly black hair and hazel eyes. "Benjamin." She'd been with Benjamin when she'd been taken. "Benjamin...Benjamin...who am I...who." She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to push down the panic slowly easing its way into her chest. She could feel her chest tighten and it was getting harder to breath. "No, not now...not now...what do you see?" She scanned the room. Lamp. Table. Curtains. Nightstand. Bed. "What do you feel?" Sheet. Leather...she couldn't do it. She had no range of motion, no way to reach out and touch anything. She could feel the tears coming. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." She began pulling as hard as she could on the leather cuffs, so hard that she eventually felt something warm trickling down her arm. She was bleeding. She began to cry then, huge, wracking sobs that shook her to the core. "My name is Ava...I'm Ava..." she said with each sob, each repetition becoming more and more quiet. "I'm...Ava." She sunk down and closed her eyes. She was out of tears, exhausted, and she had no idea what she was going to do.

Ava had fallen into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of coming home just to find that the front door was standing open, but only enough to see if you were directly on the porch. She gently nudged it open, her heart pounding a loud rhythm in her ears. She flipped the light switch, but the house remained swathed in darkness. "Ben?" She called out softly. "I'm home, where are you? She snapped her head to the left when she heard a sound from the kitchen. "Ben?" She slowly walked towards the sound. Maybe he was listening to music. Ben did that while he cooked. As she turned the corner, she found Ben tied to a kitchen chair and gagged. His eyes grew wide when he saw her. He began to shake his head violently and yelling incoherently through the tape. "Oh my God, Ben..." She ran towards him, but felt a large hand clamp around her upper arm.

"Well, look who's home!"

She jerked awake, her breath caught in her throat. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the tall, slender man had sprawled himself in the chair by the window.

"You're awake." He casually stood and strode to the bed, and looked down at her. "My, what did you do to your wrists? You've got blood everywhere." The man clucked his tongue. "We will take care of that later. Do you remember my name, sweetheart?" Ava looked at him but didn't answer. "It's Sebastian. You'll do well to remember that." He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. She jerked it away but he pulled her back, his grip so tight and painful she truly thought he could break her wrist with just one hand. "I think we should start by setting some ground rules. How does that sound?" Sebastian did not release his grip on Ava's arm, and she could tell it was going to be bruised. "I am trying to make this as simple for you as I can. I want you to be happy. So, I need you to do a few things for me. For instance, if I ask a question, I expect an answer. I may need you intact, but it certainly doesn't mean I can't have any fun with you. Struggling is simply out of the question," he glanced at her bloody arms, "but I'll let your little transgression slide this time since we didn't talk about my expectations." He paused and looked at her hungrily. For the first time since she'd seen him, Ava really looked at Sebastian. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black, and it was hard to even differentiate between his irises and his pupils. His soft hair laid gently across his forehead in wisps of coal black and the ends curled ever so slightly. It curled around his ears gently, and was long enough that it brushed the collar of his shirt. He was dangerously handsome, pale, and a dark shadow of bristle graced his chin. He was thin, but his well-tailored clothes accentuated his muscled form. His eyes narrowed under well trimmed eyebrows for a moment and then he smiled. It was a cold smile which did not quite reach his eyes, and revealed teeth that seemed a little too sharp to be normal. "If you follow these expectations, we shouldn't have any problems! So I'll ask again. What is your name?" Ava looked at him defiantly but said nothing. "Oh, sweet girl. Your bravery, although a quality I admire and a trait that will make this whole thing much easier as you will certainly need it, will not be useful right now. It is not in your best interest to abuse my patience." His hand slid up slowly to caress her face. "Let's try this one more time. What...is...your...name?" Ava swallowed nervously as she felt a cold knot of fear tighten in her stomach. Despite her fear, she remained silent. His cold, slender fingers were at her throat in a moment, and she could have sworn his eyes had flashed a bright blue before the color was swallowed back up by his almost black irises. His grip tightened around her throat hard enough to bruise and make it difficult to breathe but not enough to actually cut off her air supply and licked his lips. "Okay, well it doesn't really matter anyway. I was hoping to have a nice conversation, but obviously I was mistaken." He shoved his hand hard against her throat, which slammed her head into the wrought iron headboard behind her. Hot white stars flashed across her vision and for a moment, between the shock of the blow and the pain, she thought she would pass out. As swiftly as he had shoved her into the headboard, he had stood and crossed the room in the same motion. He was so incredibly fast. He grabbed the chair and a bag that she hadn't noticed before, then slammed the chair next to the bed and sat down. "You don't have to say a word really, but I was very much hoping we would be friendly enough to share." As he opened the bag, she realized it was her bag. He fished around for a moment and pulled out an embroidered wallet. "This is beautiful! Did you do this?" Her nod was barely perceptible but he caught it and flashed a smile. "See, that's my girl! All I want is a little participation." His fingers ran gently over the soft thread, tracing the pattern. "Where did you come up with this design?" he asked softly as he briefly glanced at her before looking back down at the wallet. She swallowed painfully.

"It just came into my head." Speaking was torture. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd had anything to drink, but every word, every swallow burned. It felt as if someone had taken sandpaper to her throat. Her voice was barely above a whisper but her reply seemed to please Sebastian.

"Interesting." He opened the wallet and perused the contents. He found her drivers license and tossed the rest on the nightstand. "Ava Rosalyn Walker." He whistled quietly to himself. "That is a beautiful name. Old. Do you know what Ava means, where it came from?" She shook her head. "Ah, well let me educate you. Ava is an old name, and it can be found in different cultures, across different time periods. It has its own cultural meanings as it crosses the oceans, spanning centuries. Of course, you were probably named after Ava Gardner, stunning woman in her own right and an absolute delight to watch perform, but it's actual origins appear much earlier than that. Some say that it may be from the Latin word 'avis', meaning bird. Common consensus though is that it is a shortened version of the Hebrew word 'chava', meaning life or living one. The Old English have a name that is similar, Avalyn, which means breath of life." He fell silent as he stared at the license. "Although unplanned, this little plot twist changes things...for the better though, my dear, don't worry." He looked up and met her bright blue-green eyes with his black ones and a chill went down her spine. "I see you're an organ donor. I truly am having a magnificent stroke of luck."

@wheresthekillswitch, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

Chapter Two: The One Where Things Take A Dark Turn

[palteringcecutiency]

>Psii: Be honest with your brother.

-- martyrsLegacy [ML] has begun trolling palteringCecutiency [PC] --

ML: How is your evening going? PC: Rather well. PC: And how is yours? ML: I'm enjoying it! We're having cupcakes, I shant ask if you want any. ML: I do have a question, and I wont pretend I didnt message you to ask it

PC: Your restraint is appreciated, I'm. PC: Regardless. PC: Ask freely, I could never turn you away. ML: Caesurae recently showed me a conversation you had had with him where you became very angry suddenly and told him that he'd not been your friend on Beforus (which is understandable), but aside from a poorly phrased comment about not wishing to short his own pan I cannot see what caused the sudden shift, and I was wondering if you recalled? PC: http://caepaecaesurae.tumblr.com/post/156832275980/574rc45m-caepaecaesurae-entirely-fair-it ML: Ah. ML: I feel as if I should let you know that he has some sort of learning and processing disorder and does not always make the correct or any connections between different events and emotional responses. ML: I spend a great deal of time explaining what he has done wrong extensively in small language he can easily grasp PC: Then he'd best give up on our friendship. PC: Not that he had any problems on Beforus, but whatever his excuse is, he can have it. ML: This is not something he has told me to tell you, Psii, and I don't expect you to suddenly coddle him ML: Only to know he sometimes is that 'stupid'. PC: Of course not. PC: Then why tell me at all? PC: What purpose does it serve other to get me to change my behavior and my thoughts? ML: Occasionally it is a comfort to know these things when someone has somewhat baffling behavior. ML: I will explain to him what he did wrong. PC: I regret to inform you that this hardly explains anything. PC: /Possibly/ some of his most recent shit. PC: /Perhaps/. PC: But that is all. ML: I'm not speaking of the more distant past PC: And I'm only speaking of the past week. ML: Hm. I assure you that there are a great many things it affects, but I do not care to make this an argument of any sort. PC: ...I am hardly eager as well, today has been PC: tiring. ML: I'm sorry to hear ):B PC: Mm. PC: It is not like every night can be a good one. PC: I am fine, I just PC: I am not eager to push things into squabbling if it can be helped. ML: I certainly do not want to fight, so we're in accorance. PC: Then I suppose you can continue, if you wish, with what you were saying. ML: I do not recall, honestly. Thank you for showing me what I need to lecture him about. PC: Ah. PC: You're welcome, then. ML: Is there anything else I should know about? PC: ...that's a rather broad and loaded question. ML: Goodness is it? ML: Is there anything else you would like to bring to my attention DAoG: PC: ...I don't know. PC: ...all of our conversations are at knife point, and you'd both say that was my fault. PC: He's wishy washy and toys with me, but that didn't matter before, so why would it now? PC: He does his best to keep me on my toes, but why wouldn't he want me off my guard. PC: He insists on wanting to be friends but runs every chance he gets and breaks it off on a whim and blames me. PC: I don't know what you want me to tell you, or why. ML: I don't believe hes been showing me all the logs ):B How is he toying with you and keeping you on your toes? -- palteringCecutiency [PC] sent file logs.zip! -- PC: See for yourself, not that I think you'll believe me. -- martersLegacy [ML] has accepted file logs.zip -- ML: Pardon there are quite a few of them and they are all long. ML: You think he is trying to get rid of you? PC: ...fuck. ML: ):B PC: ...I don't think so. PC: ...I know so. ML: How do you know? PC: How can I not know, Kankri. The signs are everywhere. PC: Either you're blinded to them or you don't care, and I already know that. ML: I must be blind then ):B PC: ...knew that too, regardless. PC: You're too smitten not to be. ML: Whatever else you might think, I won't allow you to be taken from me again. PC: I so dearly wish that was true. PC: But I know better. PC: Things can get easily twisted until you drop such a thought. PC: And I know you side with him. ML: I do not call you brother lightly, Psii ML: And the night we found each other again was one of the most joyous in my existance. ML: Caesurae and I may eventually part ways as we drift apart ML: But I'm afraid you're stuck with me. PC: I PC: I missed you, so much. When we were apart. And I was so happy that you found me in the bubbles. PC: But PC: here PC: is different. PC: ...so different. PC: ...I find myself wishing for Alternia once more, as stupid as that is. ML: Would you like me close tonight? PC: I PC: I don't know. PC: I want you close always PC: but I am at Horuss's. ML: Oh, dear ):B ML: I am glad that you and he are enjoying each other so much PC: I'm sorry. ML: There isn't anything to be sorry about, I'm glad you have another person now PC: I would rather have you back. :c ML: ):B I don't want to ask you to leave him, and I'm not comfortable enough with him yet. PC: ...I was speaking more in general. ML: I don't understand? PC: You PC: You're quite PC: ...you have a life, now. PC: With friends and quadrants and clade and a business. PC: And so does Mother, and Meulin. ML: Oh no ):B ML: I thought you wanted more independence ML: You know I can always bring hive inventory work, or have you over at the shop? PC: ...I do want more independence. PC: Because all of you have adjusted and moved on PC: and I have to live with that now. ML: I want you to be a part of my life, Psii PC: Your life does not have room for me aside from an occasional mention. PC: And even if it did, you do not need another burden. PC: You have too many already. ML: That sounds as if you have decided for me PC: No, I just counted the days you did not come hive, for so many reasons. ML: ):B PC: It's been a cycle, Kankri. PC: I'm used to it. PC: I don't expect anything anymore, you are your own troll and always have been, and if that is where you want to go, I have no place to object. ML: You are still my family. PC: And he is your quadrant. ML: Did you feel this way about Meulin? PC: ...yes. PC: But she has her own life as well, and quadrants, and I don't fit into it either. PC: The same with Mother. ML: Her 'life' is running around in the woods because she is too restless to stay with us, we're too boring. ML: ..pardon for that PC: ...regardless. ML: I haven't gone anywhere, I'm right here. PC: ...I know. PC: ...that makes it worse. ML: ):B ML: I want you close to me PC: ...I do too. PC: So fucking much. PC: I want to rip you away and steal you and hiss at anyone who tries to take you from me again. PC: But you /picked him/. PC: And you /love him/. PC: And I fucking /promised/ I wouldn't fucking do that, like some fucking wide eyed idiot who thinks things work the fuck out ever. PC: fuck. ML: Psii, start coming to work with me PC: yes PC: of course PC: the solution to this is to wedge me into a building with cronus and the demoness every night PC: brilliant as ever ML: ):B ML: Will you not even try? PC: kankri i can barely stand myself every night PC: how am i supposed to put up with /him/ PC: and youd get mad if i got blood on everything ML: I have faith in you, and also a nice back room where someone can take breaks when they need to PC: you have faith in everyone PC: i just PC: where are you ML: Hive, now. PC: coming ML: I'll get us a thick warm blanket PC: love you ML: I love you as well

-- palteringCecutiency [PC] gave up trolling martyrsLegacy [ML] --

PC: [[ Psii at one point got very somber over a while of messages back and forth with Kankri, then kind of miserable, and then eventually said he had to go find his brother and apologized for leaving him ]]

methodicalauxilium: [[ Dl tries to help psii Not get super duper depressed, but he doesn't really know if he should get involved between him and Kankri, so he just mostly does it with snugs. When Mituna says he needs to leave, darkleer just says it's perfectly alright for him to do whatever he needs, and that there will be more time later. ]]

PC: > Go attach yourself to your brother and fail not to start crying the moment you're bundled up with him. > Being miserable is hard, it's hard and nobody understands.

ML: >Shh shh shh hes here, he has you.

PC: > Congratulations Kankri, he has acquired a sniveling mess of a brother who very obviously loves him to death but has so many issues getting in the way. > One that isn't going to be easily pried off until at least the morning.

ML: >He is fine with this, perhaps he should take a day off of work and spend it with Psii.

PC: > You'll feel remarkably guilty about that, and try to get him to go anyway (you're fine, damn it) but your missing him is too much for you to win against his stubbornness.

[hannahindie]

Not What She Seems- Chapter 1: The One Where Garth Ruins Dean's Day

So I started a fic on FanFiction.net and thought I would share it in here. This is my first one, and I’m hoping that it makes sense. It hasn’t gotten a ton of attention over there, so if you all have any suggestions, please let me know. Also, I’m sorry for any formatting issues or anything. I’m copying this from a phone and it’s being difficult. 😊😊😊


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**Disclaimer-Supernatural and its characters are owned by the CW and all the people who were smart enough to create them and unfortunately this wasn’t me. OC is mine though, so yay for creative license. This is rated M for eventual sexual content (talk about a slow burn), language, and violence. There are descriptions/mentions of sexual assault, although not super graphic, so if that’s something that will bother you please skip over this because I don’t want to make you sad. Also, this is the first time I’ve written a fanfic that has seen the light of day, so bare with me while I get used to it. Please rate, review, download, favorite, whatever it is you cool kids do. I hope you enjoy!**


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The room was dimly lit, a single lamp with an old, ratty shade sitting in the corner the only source of light. Her vision was blurry as she opened her eyes slowly, but she could tell that the room was sparsely furnished. Her ears were ringing painfully as well, as if she had been standing near a loud speaker at a concert or loud machinery. She tried to remember where she’d been that would have been that loud, but her memory was too fuzzy. She glanced around. Besides the lamp, there was a small table and chair by the window and a nightstand next to the bed she was on. She noticed that the windows had heavy curtains that were covered in a thick layer of dust and could easily block out any light that tried to come through. There was a heavy wooden door with a large iron handle that, from her limited angle, seemed to be the only entrance and exit to the room. The entire room was exposed brick, and reminded her of a warehouse. In an attempt to figure out where she was, she tried to sit up and was immediately overcome by a wave of nausea. She closed her eyes to try to combat the feeling and became aware of something on her wrists. She cautiously opened her eyes and glanced down. Thick leather straps kept her tethered to the bed. Panicked, she began tugging at them but after a couple minutes of struggling, she gave up. She could feel similar restraints around her ankles. She closed her eyes again and fought back tears. There were no options. The location was unfamiliar and whoever had brought her here was obviously intent on keeping her. She was tired, groggy, and nauseated, with no recollection of how she’d gotten there. A creak echoed across the room as the door slowly eased open. A tall figure, hidden by shadow, slid past the door and carefully closed it behind him.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was worried I may have gone too far.” The figure stepped out of the shadows. “How are you feeling? Groggy, I’m sure. I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You see, I normally would have some help and your boyfriend…that was your boyfriend, correct?…well he gave me more trouble than I anticipated. I was distracted and maybe a little clumsy.” As he approached the bed she tried to focus on his features, but her vision was still blurry, and she was so tired. So, so tired. He crossed the space quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “But you’re here now! That’s the important thing.” He slowly pushed a strand of rogue hair from her face. “Oh, I have forgotten my manners. My name is Sebastian. What is yours?” She opened her mouth to answer but immediately closed it. What was her name?

“I…I’m not sure…” Her voice came out raspy and dry. She could feel panic swelling in her chest, and she struggled weakly against the shackles. “Where am I?…What…why am I here?” He smiled slightly.

“I should let you rest. Yes, you should rest.” He stood, his tall form towering above her. “We will talk later, when you’re feeling better. There’s much to discuss.” He quickly disappeared and the door shut quietly behind him. She closed her eyes and choked back a sob. She had to find a way out, but she was so tired. She fought against closing her eyes but finally succumbed to her exhaustion and whatever it was he’d drugged her with.
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The rain was coming down in sheets, and the Impala’s windshield wipers struggled to keep up. Dean squinted as lightning flashed across the sky, briefly illuminating his surroundings in a harsh white light before everything was sunk into inky blackness once more. He glanced over to see his brother, slouched against the door, fast asleep and faintly snoring. It was the first time in days that Dean had seen Sam relax enough to sleep. He was grimacing, but asleep. “Better than nothing,” Dean thought, turning his attention back to the road. It had been a rough couple weeks and as usual, the brothers were blaming themselves for things they couldn’t control. Dean was handling it better than he normally would, but Sam had taken it hard. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, but then everything had gone tits up and, even though the spirit had been put to rest, Sam had been roughed up pretty bad and the girl they were trying to protect was killed. Although it didn’t happen often, the rare failures were still hard to deal with. The kid was already full of guilt, although Dean had to wonder what hunter wasn’t, including himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hard rock coming from his phone. “Shit,” Dean mumbled as he dug around in his pocket trying to get to it before it stopped ringing. “Pinky’s Porno Palace…what’s your pleasure?”

“Dean? Is this…do I have the right number?” Dean heard the phone being fumbled as the person checked to make sure they had dialed correctly. “I don’t remember calling a porn store…Dean?”

“Dude, yes, it’s me.” A sigh of relief sounded from the other phone.

“Well, thank goodness. It’s Garth.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“What do you want, man?” Dean heard the shuffle of papers as Garth searched for the reason he called.

“Yea, we have a case that came up, fairly close to you. Are you at the bunker?”

“We are heading there now, but we just got done with a case, we haven’t slept in days. Can’t someone else do it?” There was a beat of silence. “Garth, can’t someone else do it, man? We’re freakin’ beat.”

“It’s pretty hectic out there right now, since the angels fell…there’s just a lot…going on…” Garth trailed off and Dean glanced at Sam.

“Yea, yea, we’ll be home-” Dean was interrupted as a giant bolt of lightning struck a tree, which caused it to crash into the road. “Son of a bitch!” Dean swerved to miss it and dropped the phone to put his hand back on the wheel. He began to feel the wheels give up their grip on the wet road. “Dammit!” He corrected the other way and the tires squealed in protest. He made it around the tree but the car went into a spin because of the over correction. Dean felt Sam fall into him as the car swerved violently. The car somehow came to a stop mere inches from the tree, although the Impala now faced the opposite direction. Dean was out of breath and his heart was racing. “I should lay off diner burgers,” he mumbled, a hand on his chest. He looked at Sam, who seemed to be dazed but okay.

“What the hell was that?!” Dean gestured toward the tree.

“I don’t know, Sammy, I just thought we needed a little excitement.” Sam returned Dean’s flippant answer with an eye roll.

“Guys! Hey, are you okay? Dean?” A tiny voice came from the floor near Dean’s feet. He fumbled around and finally found his phone.

“We’re fine. Send what you have to Sam.”

“Okay, when-” Dean hung up on Garth and threw the phone in the backseat.

“I’m changing my number and if someone finds it, I’m not answering.” He carefully turned the car around.

“What’d he want?”

“We’ve got a case. He’s sending the stuff over. Apparently it’s near the bunker.” He looked at Sam. “You okay?”

“Yea, I’m fine.” Sam pulled his laptop out of its bag and powered it on. “Looks like a man was killed in his home, all doors were locked, and it appeared that he’d been bitten by something.” Sam squinted at the screen. “I’ll have to look closer when we get to the bunker, but it almost looks like a vamp bite. Weird.”

“Why’s that weird?” Sam shrugged.

“That’s not really a vamp’s M.O., right? A locked house in a nice neighborhood, just to leave it behind? Something could have gone wrong, but that’s too good of a target to just leave the dude laying there. I dunno.” He shut his laptop and put it back in its bag. “I’ll look at it more when we get home.” Home. That word still felt foreign to Dean, an impossibility that would eventually be taken away.

“Yea, home…why don’t you try to go back to sleep? We’ve still got a couple hours.” Sam put his forehead against the cool window and watched the rain come down.

“Yea, sure, Dean,” he replied quietly. Dean threw a worried look towards him but said nothing. The Impala sped through the rain, carrying the boys home in silence.


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When she woke again, the ringing in her ears was gone, and her vision was no longer blurry. She noticed a glass of water on the nightstand and realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d drank anything. She shifted herself into as much of a sitting position as her bindings would allow and tried to reach the glass. Her fingertips brushed the slick glass but it sat just out of reach. She tried again and cried out in pain when her shoulder twinged in warning. She sat back against the headboard and tried to catch her breath. She still couldn’t see anything that could tell her where she was, but she did notice a door she hadn’t seen before.

“There’s another door. Good. Remember that door,” she mumbled to herself. “Who am I…who am I…” She closed her eyes and repeated the phrase like a mantra. “Who…am…I…” A face popped into her mind, a handsome thin face with a shock of unruly black hair and hazel eyes. “Benjamin.” She’d been with Benjamin when she’d been taken. “Benjamin…Benjamin…who am I…who.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to push down the panic slowly easing its way into her chest. She could feel her chest tighten and it was getting harder to breath. “No, not now…not now…what do you see?” She scanned the room. Lamp. Table. Curtains. Nightstand. Bed. “What do you feel?” Sheet. Leather…she couldn’t do it. She had no range of motion, no way to reach out and touch anything. She could feel the tears coming. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” She began pulling as hard as she could on the leather cuffs, so hard that she eventually felt something warm trickling down her arm. She was bleeding. She began to cry then, huge, wracking sobs that shook her to the core. “My name is Ava…I’m Ava…” she said with each sob, each repetition becoming more and more quiet. “I’m…Ava.” She sunk down and closed her eyes. She was out of tears, exhausted, and she had no idea what she was going to do.

Ava had fallen into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of coming home just to find that the front door was standing open, but only enough to see if you were directly on the porch. She gently nudged it open, her heart pounding a loud rhythm in her ears. She flipped the light switch, but the house remained swathed in darkness. “Ben?” She called out softly. “I’m home, where are you? She snapped her head to the left when she heard a sound from the kitchen. “Ben?” She slowly walked towards the sound. Maybe he was listening to music. Ben did that while he cooked. As she turned the corner, she found Ben tied to a kitchen chair and gagged. His eyes grew wide when he saw her. He began to shake his head violently and yelling incoherently through the tape. “Oh my God, Ben…” She ran towards him, but felt a large hand clamp around her upper arm.

“Well, look who’s home!”

She jerked awake, her breath caught in her throat. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the tall, slender man had sprawled himself in the chair by the window.

“You’re awake.” He casually stood and strode to the bed, and looked down at her. “My, what did you do to your wrists? You’ve got blood everywhere.” The man clucked his tongue. “We will take care of that later. Do you remember my name, sweetheart?” Ava looked at him but didn’t answer. “It’s Sebastian. You’ll do well to remember that.” He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. She jerked it away but he pulled her back, his grip so tight and painful she truly thought he could break her wrist with just one hand. “I think we should start by setting some ground rules. How does that sound?” Sebastian did not release his grip on Ava’s arm, and she could tell it was going to be bruised. “I am trying to make this as simple for you as I can. I want you to be happy. So, I need you to do a few things for me. For instance, if I ask a question, I expect an answer. I may need you intact, but it certainly doesn’t mean I can’t have any fun with you. Struggling is simply out of the question,” he glanced at her bloody arms, “but I’ll let your little transgression slide this time since we didn’t talk about my expectations.” He paused and looked at her hungrily.

For the first time since she’d seen him, Ava really looked at Sebastian. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black, and it was hard to even differentiate between his irises and his pupils. His soft hair laid gently across his forehead in wisps of coal black and the ends curled ever so slightly. It curled around his ears gently, and was long enough that it brushed the collar of his shirt. He was dangerously handsome, pale, and a dark shadow of bristle graced his chin. He was thin, but his well-tailored clothes accentuated his muscled form. His eyes narrowed under well trimmed eyebrows for a moment and then he smiled. It was a cold smile which did not quite reach his eyes, and revealed teeth that seemed a little too sharp to be normal. “If you follow these expectations, we shouldn’t have any problems! So I’ll ask again. What is your name?” Ava looked at him defiantly but said nothing. “Oh, sweet girl. Your bravery, although a quality I admire and a trait that will make this whole thing much easier as you will certainly need it, will not be useful right now. It is not in your best interest to abuse my patience.” His hand slid up slowly to caress her face. “Let’s try this one more time. What…is…your…name?” Ava swallowed nervously as she felt a cold knot of fear tighten in her stomach. Despite her fear, she remained silent. His cold, slender fingers were at her throat in a moment, and she could have sworn his eyes had flashed a bright blue before the color was swallowed back up by his almost black irises. His grip tightened around her throat hard enough to bruise and make it difficult to breathe but not enough to actually cut off her air supply and licked his lips. “Okay, well it doesn’t really matter anyway. I was hoping to have a nice conversation, but obviously I was mistaken.” He shoved his hand hard against her throat, which slammed her head into the wrought iron headboard behind her. Hot white stars flashed across her vision and for a moment, between the shock of the blow and the pain, she thought she would pass out. As swiftly as he had shoved her into the headboard, he had stood and crossed the room in the same motion. He was so incredibly fast. He grabbed the chair and a bag that she hadn’t noticed before, then slammed the chair next to the bed and sat down. “You don’t have to say a word really, but I was very much hoping we would be friendly enough to share.” As he opened the bag, she realized it was her bag. He fished around for a moment and pulled out an embroidered wallet. “This is beautiful! Did you do this?” Her nod was barely perceptible but he caught it and flashed a smile. “See, that’s my girl! All I want is a little participation.” His fingers ran gently over the soft thread, tracing the pattern. “Where did you come up with this design?” he asked softly as he briefly glanced at her before looking back down at the wallet. She swallowed painfully.

“It just came into my head.” Speaking was torture. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d had anything to drink, but every word, every swallow burned. It felt as if someone had taken sandpaper to her throat. Her voice was barely above a whisper but her reply seemed to please Sebastian. “Interesting.”

He opened the wallet and perused the contents. He found her drivers license and tossed the rest on the nightstand. “Ava Rosalyn Walker.” He whistled quietly to himself. “That is a beautiful name. Old. Do you know what Ava means, where it came from?” She shook her head. “Ah, well let me educate you. Ava is an old name, and it can be found in different cultures, across different time periods. It has its own cultural meanings as it crosses the oceans, spanning centuries. Of course, you were probably named after Ava Gardner, stunning woman in her own right and an absolute delight to watch perform, but it’s actual origins appear much earlier than that. Some say that it may be from the Latin word ‘avis’, meaning bird. Common consensus though is that it is a shortened version of the Hebrew word ‘chava’, meaning life or living one. The Old English have a name that is similar, Avalyn, which means breath of life.” He fell silent as he stared at the license. “Although unplanned, this little plot twist changes things…for the better though, my dear, don’t worry.” He looked up and met her bright blue-green eyes with his black ones and a chill went down her spine. “I see you’re an organ donor. I truly am having a magnificent stroke of luck.”