#instead of pretending that all actions take place in a vacuum

[mytly4]

Some, even most, of anon's accusations are not even valid accusations. Tyrion could not "deny justice" to people by not punishing Cersei or maintaining Joffrey's regime, because it wasn't in his power to do anything about it in the first place. Even as Acting Hand in ACoK, he had power only because Tywin (temporarily) allowed him to have it. That is, Tywin sent Tyrion to King's Landing to be Hand in his stead while he was busy elsewhere, with the implicit (and probably explicit) understanding that he should behave as Tywin would in the same circumstances. Do you think that Tywin would punish Cersei or send Sansa back to her family or care about the starving peasants or do anything to destabilize Joffrey's reign? Nonetheless, Tyrion, who definitely cares more about justice than Tywin (which, admittedly, is an extremely low bar), did manage to do some things that he could get away with without bringing Tywin's wrath down on his head instantly, like punishing Janos Slynt or stopping Joffrey from torturing Sansa. And even that little, he couldn't do any more once Tywin returned to take up the Hand position at the end of ACoK. After that, Tyrion was in a no-win situation. He could either support his family's atrocities (at least passively), even if it went against his grain. Or he could try to go against them, and wind up completely alone, as he had no allies of his own: the Mountain Clans had gone back to the Vale by then; Bronn was a mercenary who supported whoever paid him the most; the common people hated him because they saw him as a part of the Lannister regime, and because they couldn't get over their prejudices regarding his disability. And in the game of thrones, being alone and friendless is equivalent to being dead. So Tyrion could either support his family, no matter how horrible they were, or he could try to rebel against them and wind up dead. Not exactly a great set of choices.

I'm not suggesting that Tyrion is a saint, and if allowed to follow his conscience, would immedietely guarantee justice to every citizen of Westeros - far from it. But that's because he's part of the system too - he's been raised in a feudal system that teaches that some people are just inherently better than others (and therefore less deserving of justice). On the other hand, he's physically disabled and far from the Westerosi ideal of a "manly man" in a highly ableist and misogynist society. He has learnt the hard way that some people (including himself) simply never get justice, even when they're completely innocent, because of the prejudice against them. Why should he stick his neck out to get justice for, for example, peasants who think he's a monster and who would unhesitatingly kill him if given a chance?

ASOIAF is a series that is primarily concerned with power, how it works, and who gets to wield it. The most interesting characters in the series (and its obvious main characters, whether they're the heroes, anti-heroes, or villains) are people who have power - or least the privilege that comes from being adjacent to people with power - in one way, but are denied it in other ways: for example, Tyrion, Jon, Dany, Cersei, Catelyn, etc. Their stories tend of be about the limitations of their power - GRRM isn't interested in exploring characters like Joffrey, Robert, or Tywin - that is, people with almost unlimited power.

Tyrion has limited power - and he has it because he has the privilege of being part of the most powerful family in the realm. But he is an expendable member of the family (which he is very well aware of), and the moment he does anything that goes against the family's interests, he knows he will be expended (and in fact, that's exactly what happens). Under such circumstances, how can he possibly provide justice to people his family has wronged?

I agree with you that Tyrion did not get justice but at the same time Tyrion when he was in power denied justice to other despite his claims to Shae. He denied justice to Sansa by refusing to send her back to her family despite the cruelty she suffered. He denied justice to the people of Kings Landing by doing all in his power to keep the insane boy who told them to eat their dead in power. He denied justice to Barra and her mother by not doing anything to Cersei and only punishing Slynt and Deem. He only offered to Clegane and Lorch to the Martells to keep them neutral and knew Tywin gave the order. As Oberyn stated there was no justice for Elia and her kids why should Tyrion get any? Tyrion denied justice to people who were innocent and better then him like Ned why does he deserve any? Tyrion himself admitted he was only innocent of killing Joffrey (and I would like him more if he actually did kill him).

This is coming down to personal beliefs. Some relevant beliefs of mine are a) justice is not a privilege, and b) justice is for society and the perpetrator as well as for any victims.

So basically, I think Tyrion deserves justice because everyone deserves justice.

[fastfoward]

epilogue, first draft

Over a thousand years ago a great demon was unleashed upon the world. Unimaginably cruel and just as powerful, it ravaged the land and killed untold amounts of people simply for fun. Luckily for the world, there was a small band of warriors who managed to take on the demon and eventually bring it down. Then, they tried to learn where this demon came from and they learned it was placed there by the gods themselves. The demon had grown so powerful the gods did not know what to do with it and unleashed it upon humanity, knowing that a strong band of heroes would arise.

The band of warriors did not take this information as well as the gods had hoped. They judged the action of the gods unfair and unwise. That it was unfair for humanity to fix the gods’ mistakes. They argued and argued, and soon the argument became physical. The small troup of warriors took on the gods in battle. They won.

The battle was brutal and destructive. The planet itself shook and cracked open and split into three pieces. As a last act the gods defied logic and made it so the world would remain as such even if it was split into pieces, each third remaining close, but not touching, one another. The band of warriors then disbanded, each heading down their own paths.

The Free Kingdom of Corralina

Life remained somehow relatively unchanged in one third of the world. The land was governed by independent citystates, though all bent the knee to the Wandering King, one of the godslayers. The land was ravaged by wild and terrible monsters, travel was difficult and technological progress recessed. However, people survived and learned how to fight back. Cities fortified and developed new techniques to hunt down the wild monsters. Magic was rediscovered. Soon, monsters stopped being a threat and instead became a resource. Monster parts were used to develop stronger weapons and more powerful spells. The Free Kingdom of Corralina became renowned for its powerful warrior-mages, keeping would-be invaders from the other thirds at bay.

When one reaches maturity in the The Free Kingdom, or when one becomes accepted as a citizen, they receive a small silver goat horn. Whenever someone is in trouble and confronted with dangers they cannot handle, they may blow this horn; if the Wandering King hears it, he will rush to the rescue with his eternal bride of iron, and obliterate whatever danger is there. In exchange, all the King will ask is to pay up any unpaid due taxes.

The Corporate Real-Estate Holdings of ActionDeath

Life changed considerably in one third of the world. The industry capital of the old world grew immeasurably up until it covered the entirety of all available landmass, ruled by two of the godslayers. They combined their assets, technology and enchantments to twist the very meaning of life and death, forever altering what it even meant to be human. No gold is exchanged in the land of ActionDeath, the only payment the Corpo-Government will exchange for goods and services is mortality. The lifespan of beings can be removed, added and exchanged through proprietary processes and rules all legal exchanges. A land where one lives to die. A land where one must die to live. Oddly enough, when asked people will report they preferred things this way, preferred this to how life was in the olden days. They answer this sincerely. 

Technology has advanced at an accelerated rate in this land. Both cybertronics and biohacking have become common aspects of daily life. Progress in health technology has skyrocketed and some of the lucky few live in impossibly luxurious comfort; but even the lower classes of society have access to all the food and entertainment they need to subsist. As long as the engine of progress are still running, life will continue in one shape or another.

The Holy Bassin for The New World’s Goddess

Life became… confusing, in one third of the world. The death of the old gods left a spiritual vacuum to be filled, and while many pretenders emerged they all either imploded or eradicated one another. All except for one curious pair, a brother and sister duo, two of the godslayers. The sister was an odd one but could perform indescribable miracles. She would effortlessly create pure energy which could be used to power homes and vehicles. She would affect the weather to help farms and nature be at their best, and she would, in some way, transform the minds of those who fit ill in this society. She communicates strictly through metaphors though luckily her brother always stays at her side, ready to translate her wisdom to the common folk.

The old gods were declared devils, and She to be the one true god, having banished them to hell. For the spiritually inclined, the Holy Bassin is a living paradise. In this land of plenty, technology and scientific progress has stagnated. The Arts, however, have flourished. It is common for people of this land to go on a pilgrimage and explore the other two third, but rarely are they ready for such trips, and rarely do they come back alive. 

Be mindful. Happiness is mandatory. Happiness will be enforced.

—

As for me? I dunno. I never fit in well with the other godslayers. I had a bit of a temper, I’ll admit, and my relationship with most was never really positive. In fact it was downright adversarial sometimes. But all that is in the past now. I’ve been wandering across the world, I have a bit of a route I like to follow. Turns out monster parts, techno gadgets and pure raw energy are incredibly useful and praised outside their homelands. I don’t ask for much in return, just some place to sleep, and a chance to listen to the people. I’ve spent my youth with the godslayers and I think… I think I forgot what it was to be… them. A person. All the experiences of being a human. It’s been over a thousand years now, honestly I’ve completely lost track, and honestly? I don’t think I’ve completely caught up with those experiences. 

[animehouse-moe]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 139: A Chair's Feelings

Well, as expected we get some more juicy information regarding the world and the existence of devils, but also a surprising amount of progression for Denji as a character. Lots to chat about for sure!

Right away, Miri (the sword hybrid) tells Denji that other weapons are with the Chainsaw Man Church. This tells us one of two things: the weapons that we know are being controlled, or there are new weapons in here.

It's a pretty easy line to take because Quanxi and Reze number amongst the hybrids that we know of, and there's no way that they would exist with the Chainsaw Man Church without seeing Kishibe or Denji.

So where does that lead us? Well, to the fact that the weapons are being controlled, just in a different way. And Fujimoto relays that very well to readers.

Miri chokes on his words as a "free man", and instead says that he's doing this specific thing of his own free will. Personally speaking, I think it's pretty easy to see that Famine has these hybrids wrapped around her finger, which provides a much more interesting picture going forward.

In the vacuum of power that was created by Makima's death, Famine either appeared or took action. Taking in the hybrids, she's been biding her time for the appearance of Yoru. All for the sake of the prophecy. All that said, the Chainsaw Man Church suddenly makes sense with Famine's power.

Famine needs someone to be hungry or starving to be able to control them. She needs a concrete desire to latch onto to be able to subjugate a person. Denji as a character has always struggled with concrete dreams or ideals, so what Famine is attempting to do is different. Rather than lure Denji in with shallow promises and whatnot, she's stripped him of his identity, and has weaponized that against him. Raising up Asa to take his place, and then having ghosts of his past appear and beg him to come to the church. It just screams of a plot to isolate and overpower Denji.

Anyways, Denji as a character. He does really well here in understanding his dreams. The past conversations about his happiness, about who and what he is and what that means to him, they're starting to build up within Denji so that he can begin to understand what happiness and dreams really are. He's definitely not quite there yet, but he's certainly showing progress.

Of course, it's more than just Denji that we should be focusing on in this moment (though it does tie back into Denji). Just take a look at Miri's reaction to Denji turning down his invitation to the church. Everybody, Miri included, has an idea as to who Chainsaw Man is. How he should act, what he should do and what he should represent. And they all foist those ideals onto Denji as a character. So, much like Fami, they weaponize Denji's identity and character against him, trying to lure him away with empty promises and the like. And Denji bites on it, after all he's still a teenage boy with his head in the clouds.

And just to add a bit, I definitely think having Denji fall for the bait with this piece was important. He's clearly becoming more and more aware and understanding of himself, but at the same time he's still kinda stupid and naïve (just look at the movie chapter).

And to our last little bit of info, teleporting Denji. It even catches Miri off guard. Now, for the sake of comedic effect it's definitely possible, but what about a more interesting theory?

The door was closed, so Denji's ability to get through that way without alerting Miri is highly unlikely, so it leaves only alternate routes to the stairwell. Miri didn't make it far before noticing Denji, so even if Denji could move incredibly fast, the chances of him making it there before Miri saw him is unlikely.

This all brings it to the conclusion that this likely isn't Denji. But who would it be? Who would pretend to be Denji and go to the Chainsaw Man Church in his stead? Who protects Denji from the shadows and very rarely shows his face?

Yoshida. I know, it's crazy, but I still can't shake the idea that Yoshida's ability/contract with the Octopus devil may have something to do with shapeshifting.

Overall, it's definitely more a "story" chapter than "character", but Fujimoto continues to sneak some solid moments in for Denji and his place in the world. Bits and pieces of development that are reflective of his experiences in his now daily life, offset by the constant overshadowing of the "Chainsaw Man" persona so many wish to impart onto him. It's really great to see, but even better is getting another step closer to figuring out what's going on with the hybrids and the church. Public Safety should have known about their whereabouts, or at the very least their disappearance, but seem content with idly watching. There's a lot going on under the surface, and I'm really curious to see what the next chapter dredges up from the depths.

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 1: Almost

WIP: Partners Pairing: Ben x Reagan Timeline: non-canon, but 1969 (the time of the majority of PIII) CW: none Rating: T Words: 1,776 (🤙🏽)

***

"Alright, Reagan, let's try it once more from the top of the scene..."

Ben watched Reagan push himself off of the couch in the rehearsal room, pressing his thumbs into his eyebrows with a weary sigh. His scene partner, however—gorgeous Hollywood "It girl" and rising star Favra Violetta—glided off the couch to eagerly await him on the blocking tape beside the false door standing in for the real, eventual movie set.

As he crossed to her, Reagan threw a glance at his director to verify if that's what he meant by "from the top" before swiping his palms together. "You don't think I've got this acting thing figured out by now, Jimothy?"

"Shut up," grumbled Academy Award-winning director James Fernando as he took exactly two long steps to position himself at a prime angle to best view the scene. "Okay, you're back in the house, you're casting aside the horrible day, you're in your coat and soaking wet from the rain." James gestured to Favra. "Your beautiful wife has music on, and you smell dinner in the kitchen, and the only thing you can think to do despite all the bleakness and the misery is dance with this amazing woman. It's not difficult."

Ben crossed his arms in the spot where James once stood, an unregistered smirk on his face at the promise of watching Reagan have to dance again. "I'm so sorry this is the direction your career decided to take you."

Reagan shot him a third of a glare that melted into a boyish grin the moment his fingers wrapped around the doorknob.

"Right," James said, clapping his hands. "Action!"

A record started from the other side of the room, a kicky tune that likely would be replaced for filming. Reagan shut the door behind him, his shoulders heavy, eyes cast to the floor, and in the way he carried himself, he looked soaked to the bone from a nonexistent downpour. He stepped forward but stopped, recognizing the music, and his vacant gaze fell on Favra's Sadie bustling about the simulated living room.

She turned and smiled at him, smoothing down the waistband of her trousers. "Hey there, Mitchie."

What Reagan was supposed to do, here, was wait a beat, and then sweep Favra into a mid-tempo dance that carried them joyfully around the living room. Instead, he frowned and bit his lip.

James looked at Ben over his shoulder with a huff of desperation.

Ben shrugged. "He's got the yips."

"And how in the hell do I fix that?"

Ben swiped a thumb across his nose, taking in Favra's olive skin and endless brown eyes. He shook his head. "He lacks chemistry with Favra. It's kinda weird for him not to click instantly with...well, anyone, and it's probably nothing against you, Favra...but until he's able to find that spark there, I don't really see this working out the way you want it to."

"Yeah," James sighed. "Wonderful."

Favra dropped character and pulled her dark hair over one shoulder, motioning toward Ben. "Why doesn't he try the scene with Mr. Murray? Maybe going through the motions with someone he's comfortable with will help loosen him up?"

"I'm also standing right here in case one or all of you decide to consult me on the matter," Reagan said.

James nodded and waved impatiently. "Sure, sure, if Reagan's good with it, we'll do it that way. I would like to be confident in this scene sometime before I fall down dead of old age." He punctuated his sentence with a dramatic flop of the hand and a raspberry sound effect.

Favra graciously allowed Ben to take her place, and he did, with much apprehension. He'd been on the big screen a few times—once in a major way with Reagan—but he'd still never gotten used to the practice and found himself a bit nervous even though it was only rehearsal.

Since he was a temporary substitute, he went the comedic route with his miming, pretending to use a vacuum that started to suck up the toe of one of his socks as Reagan's Mitchie walked into the house.

"Good, good!" James said. "Music cue's late, but roll with it!"

Ben glanced up as the music hastily kicked on, and he smiled at Reagan much like he'd watched Favra do several times leading up to this. "Hey there, Mitchie."

Reagan stood where Ben imagined there'd be a step leading down into a sunken living room. He didn't know how long had passed since Reagan shut the door, but it was long enough to affect a wistful, bittersweet stare right into Ben's face.

He dragged himself, "wet" and "tired," into the living room and started to bounce a bit to the beat of the music. He acted out setting the vacuum cleaner aside and took Ben's hands.

"What're you doin'?" Ben asked, still on script and pulling his smile as far as it could go. He stopped needing to try when Reagan began to guide him in earnest, swinging his hips into a gradually more enthusiastic partnered Watusi.

Ben met him with every move, spinning with him, letting the music and the laughter sweep him into another mindset entirely. He remembered almost too late that the script then called for Sadie to break away and for Mitchie to chase her around the living room until he caught up to her by the couch and they shared a passionate kiss.

He would've brought the rehearsal to an end had he not clocked the mischievous sparkle in Reagan's eye as they danced fairly close to one another.

"Sadie, go!" James barked cheerfully.

Without another thought, Ben took off, a strange giggle bubbling out of him, fueled in part by adrenaline and mostly by the years that sloughed off of him just by being silly with Reagan. It brought him back to their school dances, their respective weddings, the time on the secluded beach before Reagan moved back to Ireland...

Ben screeched to a sudden halt in front of the couch and whipped around to Reagan, his heart slamming into his chest and a bolt of thrilled fear shooting through every extremity of his body as Reagan bore down on him like a beast of prey.

Like a movie reel flashing before his eyes, he recalled Reagan's twenty-first birthday, their rough and wasted first kiss against the brick wall in the alleyway he still wasn't sure some twenty-seven years later that he didn't yearn to remember in full...the drunken, highly charged striptease Reagan gave as a parting gift when they went to the beach alone...every time they'd give each other a quick kiss because they just loved one another that much and didn't care who knew it—

Reagan grabbed Ben around the waist, fervently cupped his face, and kissed him.

Ben did not expect that.

For comedic purposes? Sure. But to put his heart into it, his soul into it, to pull Ben closer and dig his fingers into his hair, to zap his knees of strength, to splay his other hand against the small of Ben's back? To take a man in his forties still recovering from a mental breakdown nearly a decade ago, a man who still couldn't fully admit to himself that his mind made up the rest of what happened on that beach, and whittle him down to a trembling mess sinking into his arms as the kiss became more and more meaningful?

When Reagan pulled away, Ben didn't even notice at first. Ben pried his eyes open and he was slammed with Reagan's beauty, his incredible smile, his blown pupils, and the sneaky dart of his tongue across his own bottom lip.

Why was Ben not able to do this all the time? Why was he wherever he was right now, whatever they were doing, whatever was going on, and not enjoying this every minute of every day? Why was he so pressured, so stupid, so restrained, so sad, why wasn't he running away to live with Reagan in blissful devotion and adoration for the rest of their lives...?

...Faye.

"Son of a fuckin' dumbass," he breathed sharply, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

"Right, excellent!" James clapped once again, laughing boisterously and scaring the daylights out of Ben. "That's great! Favra, whenever you're ready, dear. We'll run through it one more time to make sure we're in a good place."

Ben's eyes had gone wide as soon as his wife's name entered his mind. He swallowed slowly, making the mistake of dropping his face toward the ground. Reagan hadn't let go of him yet, and Ben felt an almost imperceptible squeeze around his midsection, an apology, a clutch of barely concealed terror. Reagan pressed his lips to the side of Ben's head, and then it was over.

Favra smiled at Ben as the actors reset the scene. Ben finally looked back to Reagan, spotting the regret veiling his face prior to getting into character again.

Standing to the side to watch the scene again, Ben could see the added frustration, the added fire in Reagan's performance that had definitely not been there mere moments ago. Reagan chased Favra around the couch, caught up with her, pulled her into a kiss that made Ben's lungs feel as if they were being squeezed.

Ben's forehead creased. James called it a night on that day's rehearsals.

Reagan drove Ben home from the studio in silence. Sometimes, most of the time, their silences meant nothing. They could endure an entire car ride without a word and be quite comfortable. But this time was different, and it made Ben's entire head hot. Even the crisp air exposed to them via the Capri convertible did not help.

Halfway to Ben's house, Reagan switched on the radio. Serendipity or a happy coincidence, he'd tuned into the last seconds of one of their songs from their Gilmore and Murray days.

Ben carefully looked over to Reagan, who broke into a warm smile and caught his eye while maintaining focus on the road.

"'Sendin' me into a tailspin...'" Reagan sang along, his voice soft and pillowy against the chaos of the L.A. streets. "'No matter what kinda mood I'm in...'"

"Forgetting everything I know,'" Ben joined in, "'I'd wanna see you again before I go...'"

Reagan led them into the crescendo, "'But I'm not goin' yet, I'd be a fool to put down a losin' bet...'"

Ben threw his arms up into the air. "'So we're on! Our! Way!'"

Reagan laid down some jazzy vocal runs behind Ben's sustained final note, and things went almost back to normal...

[rebelsabers]

“I 100% sympathize with that choice and would absolutely do the same thing [commit genocide and massacre an entire town, including infants]”-@askshivanulegacy

“You can want to wipe out the village of torturers and murderers and that's fine”@askshivanulegacy

You would what?

This reminds me of this counter argument that’s going around right now in the Palestine vs Israel discussion where people are like “So if your parents were being held hostage by 1 bad guy, you’d be okay with just bombing the place instead of even trying to extract them safely? If the person who killed your parents was holed up in a house with a bunch of children they were using as human shields, you’d be OK with bombing the house in order to take out the one killer?”

Maybe not entirely accurate but what’s going on in Palestine is genocide and it’s insane how people who are trying to justify that genocide are always met with counter arguments like the above which highlight just how stupid and flawed trying to justify the genocide is (even if you ignore how it’s just flat out evil).

I know someone might easily think: “Why are you bringing Palestine vs Israel into this?” but Star Wars is based off of real life events. Sci-fi and fiction are almost always heightened reflections and critiques of real world issues and this discussion we’re having is about genocide which the world is witnessing happen before our very eyes right now in Palestine so it seemed relevant. I think it’s worth mentioning because people get on the internet and write excuses for genocide, sympathy for those who commit it, and boldly proclaim that they would have done the same. Those are things that are not actually existing within a fandom bubble; it’s being seen by people on the Internet who are also watching non-fictional versions of this happening on the news to real people in the world. It’s being seen by people who are survivors of genocide. If you or anybody else is saying things like this and then turning around looking at the news on the TV or your phone to see what’s happening in Palestine, it’s frightening to think about what goes through your head when you see real life instances of this. Yes, fiction is fiction and fandom shouldn’t be activism, but for fuck sake! Watching these atrocities happen in the world, proceeding to then get online and play devils advocate for people carrying out these very evil acts of genocide, ethnic cleansing, bigotry, etc. that take place in Star Wars or other fandoms, and acting like it’s not that big of a deal because you’re talking about made up characters in a made up universe is not only concerning, but harmful. If you’re someone pretending like it’s different or that it’s not dangerous; you’re either someone being willfully ignorant in an attempt to excuse what you write and publish on the internet for the world to see, or you’re actually that fucking stupid and out of touch with the world which means you probably don’t realize how lucky you are to be able think that at all.

I feel like the statement above is just one more example of how Star Wars fans always have excuses and justifications for the actions of the Sith, the Empire, and Anakin Skywalker. They’re always undoubtably paired with pro-genocide/pro ethnic cleansing comments that i frequently non-stop see used in an attempt to try and deflect responsibility for the genocide that takes place onto the victims rather than those responsible. This behavior in the Star Wars fanbase is more harmful than ever before with the current state of the world.

I don’t understand how people can continue to say things like that and not understand that the full weight of what they’re actually saying. How do you not understand that it actually isn’t being said into the vacuum of a fandom space? How do you not see that discussions about these things have always been viewed by people who are either descendants of genocide survivors, are watching this very thing happen in the news, or are victims of current genocide? That people come here, maybe for a distraction or to entertain themselves, read someone’s excuses for genocidal ethnic cleansing and fascism, then take their impressionable/stupid/bigoted minds back to the real world and form opinions about what’s happening on the news based off of what they just read either consciously or subconsciously. There are people who come here to enjoy Star Wars content and witness people relentlessly making statements of support and/or excuses for fascism, genocide, and ethnic cleansing while even claiming that they would also inflict those evil crimes against humanity. They see that and then get to think about what they just read as someone who might be related to a genocide or holocaust victim. Or maybe they are experiencing it right now. Maybe they’re just someone keeping up with the news and seeing the daily updates that report how the people being massacred through a systematic genocide (like the one that’s being discussed in this post) are suffering. People are watching the news and thinking about how there really are people who are so boldly endorsing horrific genocide like the kind that’s happening to the victims of Palestine.

This isn’t just a fandom discussion. It’s a pretty damn upsetting display of people’s ability to take a stance on the side of fascism and the perceived right to commit genocide.

It's probably been around a while and I just haven't encountered it before now, but the "yes everyone would have murdered a village down to the last child in that situation" take is a new one for me! Like would I have been justifiably upset in that situation? Yes. But what would I have done in that moment myself? Probably run. Granted I am not a person with a ton of unfathomable powers and a weapon I have spent a decade training to use that can cut through literally everything, but still. The argument that "well yeah EVERYONE would've done exactly what Anakin did" kinda falls apart when you think about it for two seconds because wow is that not what I would do when faced with being alone in the middle of an entire community of people who just captured and tortured my innocent mother for several weeks.

But it's also VERY hard to argue that this is even how everyone would react to this situation in Star Wars.

They literally have an entire arc where they explicitly have Obi-Wan's old nemesis who killed Obi-Wan's Master come to attack the home planet of someone he loves, captures her, and then murders her right in front of Obi-Wan with Obi-Wan helpless to save her. He then goads Obi-Wan into reacting in anger and Obi-Wan's reaction is to refuse to engage. He very explicitly refuses to even attack Maul because he knows he'd be reacting in anger and he's literally seen exactly where that leads before and overcome it. So when Obi-Wan IS put in an extremely similar situation, he chooses not to just go out and attack everybody as a result. He doesn't give in to his anger and fly to Dathomir to go kill every single Nightbrother on the planet as a form of justice for Satine, which is what this person is arguing is how literally anybody would react when placed in that situation.

Reva Sevander has every reason to despise Anakin, more reason than Anakin had to despise the Tuskens. And yet when she goes after Luke to try to kill him after she fails to kill Anakin, that becomes a line she can't cross. More accurately, it's a line Reva CHOOSES not to cross. So when put in that situation with all the same anger and grief as Anakin had with the opportunity to get her vengeance by killing an innocent child, Reva makes the active choice not to do what Anakin did. So while the impulse obviously was still there with Reva, she was fully capable of choosing not to go through with it. And Reva's been soaking in Darkness since she was about 8-10 years old, getting tortured and broken as an Inquisitor, surrounded by the corpses of her people, with zero support of any kind that she can turn to for comfort or guidance. Anakin had spent the last 10 years in a warm loving environment with people who cared for him and still had most of those people available to him to support him in this time of grief. And yet when faced with the same choice, Reva chose to pull back and let Luke live, but Anakin just kept going and massacred an entire village. It's a CHOICE, not an uncontrollable urge.

You know the only other person I can think up off the top of my head who DOES canonically have a similar reaction to Anakin's?

Aleksander Kallus.

Kallus explicitly states that he leads a genocide against the Lasat as vengeance for ONE Lasat killing a unit of Imperial soldiers in self defense. An entire species is nearly wiped out of existence because Kallus decided to let his anger control him.

But there are NUMEROUS other characters in Star Wars who we see lose people they love and proceed to not go on a murder spree against innocent people and children as a result. And the ones that do are pretty explicitly villains whose actions when in those situations are used to showcase just how villainous they are. Which indicates that it's NOT a normal reaction because otherwise it wouldn't really mean anything as a villain identifier. If it's something just about anyone would've done, it's probably not that villainous. The point of it NEEDS to be that most people WOULDN'T do that, even in justified anger.

[knox-knocks]

a hunger inside

an among us au >:) tw: death and violence (no foxes die, only ocs)

read it on ao3

Andrew finds him in the hallway, attempting an escape through the vent in the floor. Andrew’s eyes flick to the corner of the room where the camera is, but it is dark and lifeless, no blinking red light to indicate that someone is watching. Of course, that is why Andrew chose to linger in this part of the ship, after all. No one is ever watching these cameras, so he is free to smoke his cigarettes in peace.

“The vents, huh?” he says and leans against the cool metal wall of the ship and lights the cigarette. He’s almost out. As soon as his job here is done, he’ll have to stop by the closest pit stop for another pack.

Orange jumps at the sound of Andrew’s voice, twisting around in the tiny space the vents allow. It’s not much bigger than him, and he has to wiggle through in order to get out. Andrew watches him, cigarette forgotten between his fingertips, and takes note of the dark red staining his orange space suit, seeping into the fabric.

Andrew tips his head and behind Orange he can see two feet sticking out from the darkness, dripping the same red liquid that’s currently splashed all over him. Andrew is no idiot, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that the liquid is blood and the legs belong to a dead man.

“Faster way to get around,” Orange – Josten, he remembers – says after a tense pause. Andrew can’t see his expression past the dark screen of his visor, instead his own unimpressed face is reflected back at him, distorted in the curve of the helmet.

Andrew has never seen the man underneath the orange suit. He’s been aboard the Space Enterprise for a couple months now and hasn’t so much as taken off his helmet. Which wasn’t a cause for alarm – not at first – because technically it was a rule that you had to be wearing your space suit at all times in case of emergencies, though no one actually did. Except for Josten.

What struck Andrew as strange was that Josten didn’t take it off even to eat. In fact, Andrew has never seen him eat with the others in the cafeteria, not once, in the months since he’s joined the crew.

“I suppose you’re the one the others are worrying about, then,” Andrew says and takes a drag off his cig before it dies. “The imposter.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in here,” Josten says, neatly dodging the question. His voice is staticky over the mic, more artificial than human.

Andrew looks past at the victim half-eaten by the darkness. Josten subtly shifts his weight, an unsubtle attempt to hide the body, but the damage is done and Andrew has already seen it.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Andrew says. He stares at where he thinks Josten’s eyes should be, and meets his own even expression instead.

Josten doesn’t move so Andrew sighs and pushes up from where he’s leaning against the wall. Josten’s back straightens, and he makes an abortive move, as if reaching for a weapon. Said weapon must still be stuck in whatever poor sap whose blood saturated the floor, because Josten’s hands remain empty, and Andrew unstabbed.

“Go get cleaned up,” Andrew says and stubs out his cigarette against his fatigues. The ashes smear against the black fabric, near invisible. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Why?” Josten says in that robotic voice of his.

“Because now you owe me one,” says Andrew.

“I thought we were even.” Josten mimes a movement reminiscent of raising a cigarette to his mouth, a clumsy mimicry in his bulky suit. “‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’”

“Yes,” Andrew says. “But now I’m covering for you as well. So you owe me.”

It is eerie, the way Andrew can’t see his face to read his reactions, and wonders if this is how his crewmates feel about him. Andrew, always so tightlipped and apathetic, even when the crew started getting picked off one by one. He didn’t join up too much longer after the others, but he’d picked up on their unease almost immediately. Andrew doesn’t care though; he isn’t here to make friends. He is here to do his job.

Josten is the first to break. He turns, stiff, and walks down the hall to the sleeping chambers. Andrew watches him go and waits a few more minutes to give him a bit more time. He’s not really sure why. He could have left when he saw Josten climbing into the vent and pretend he never saw the body, or he could have simply reported exactly what he witnessed.

But it often gets boring on the Enterprise, and perhaps Andrew is intrigued, maybe he wants to see where this goes. Plus, it might come in handy to have the resident murderer indebted to him.

Andrew reports the body over the comm link and makes his way to the cafeteria.

_ _

It was Green who was killed, though Andrew never bothered to learn the man’s real name. The remaining crewmates are dragged from their tasks to deliberate over the murder, while Andrew watches over the chaos and waits for Josten to join them. In the end he points his finger at Red, who has no alibi except for her claim to be down in Navigation at the time of the murder. But the others do not listen and in their panic, they are quick to vote her out.

Her screams of terror and pleading are cut short by the hiss of the chamber door sealing shut. It is Yellow who slams the ejection button, and Andrew watches as Red is spat into the black vacuum of space. Yellow flinches when the air is forced out of her lungs and her blood boils in her veins, but Andrew does not.

Ten crewmates turn to eight in a day, and the others are soothed enough to go back to their assignments. At least until Andrew finds Josten stuffing Yellow’s crumpled form into one of the cupboards in Storage a few days later.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Andrew says smoothly, and Josten flips around, quite literally caught in the act. He’s still holding the knife, but he lowers it when he sees Andrew.

“I owe you two?” he says.

“One,” Andrew replies. Josten tips his head, a strangely animal action with the giant space helmet on. “I want your name.”

Josten hesitates.

“Your full name.”

“Neil,” he says slowly, as if trying it out. “Neil Josten.”

“Neil,” Andrew repeats, and he quite likes the taste of it on his tongue. It tastes a little of danger, like the iron-tang of blood. “Now show me your face, and we will be even.”

Neil is slow in taking off his helmet, and Andrew watches in rapt attention as the vents blow out a stream of oxygen and steam as the seals release and Neil twists the helmet off.

Andrew wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Neil looks normal. At least, he has a nose and a mouth, and reddish-brown hair falling into his eyes. It’s as his gaze is tracking the movement of his auburn curls that Andrew spots the reason Neil was so hesitant to take off his helmet.

His eyes are a bright, crimson red, glittering and dark under the fringe of his hair. Undeniably alien.

Andrew takes a step forward and grabs Neil by the chin. He brings his face down closer to his own and moves it side to side, studying him. Aside from the eyes, his face is also marked by deep gouges and circular scars on either side of his face. He is very attractive, and Andrew feels a slow, tight pull in his navel. He would quite like to take this man apart, bit by bit. Neil is silent as he lets Andrew look his fill.

“There’s a vent in the corner of the room, to the left,” Andrew says, releasing Neil’s face. “I’d be quick if I were you.”

Neil narrows those red eyes of his before reattaching his helmet and following Andrew’s directions. He has the vent open and one leg in when he turns back and says, “Why do you never talk to any of the others?”

Andrew gives him a thin, close-mouthed smile and says nothing.

He doesn’t report the body. He lets Purple find it, and he and Neil meet the others in the cafeteria together. His suit his clean, no traces of the blood that had been previously splattered down his front. His helmet is on, but he’s not the only one hiding their face so no one mentions it.

“Minyard,” the man in the white suit says. Andrew is pretty sure his name is Folkson or Falkner or something. His face his pale, eyes stretched wide, and his lips tremble as he talks. He’s the oldest out of all of them, and has taken the helm. “Where were you?”

“With Josten,” Andrew says. “We were clearing out the oxygen tanks in O2.”

“That’s not usually a two-person job,” Lime says suspiciously.

Andrew levels a look at her. “It is if you do it properly.”

“We need to figure this out,” Cyan snaps, and Andrew wracks his brain for their name. He comes up blank. “We’ve been getting picked off for weeks and we still have no fucking clue as to why.”

“They might not be human,” Pink says in his quiet voice, thin as a thread. He clutches his gloves in his hands, turning them over and over. “What if this is a game to them?”

Andrew hedges a look toward Neil but he is still, silent.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cyan says, and rolls their eyes. “We need to stay focused before we lose the mission.”

“You give a lot of orders and not a lot of answers,” Folkson or Falkner gripes.

“I could say the same for you,” Cyan replies coolly.

Andrew lets them bicker. He said his piece, and both he and Neil are cleared. After all, Pink saw them on the cameras, and they were no one near the body when Purple found it. In fact, no one was around, and soon the suspicion turns to Purple. Their pleas fall on deaf ears as they are locked in the ejection chamber and Cyan presses the button.

The others whisper around them, desperate prayers to a God that has no place in the depths of space. Let us be right, they murmur. Please, this time, let us be right.

_ _

The first time Andrew kisses Neil, they are in the showers and he has just scrubbed the last of Falkner’s blood off of him. Red turns to pink as it runs off of him, over the white tiles, and down the drain. Andrew knows someone will stumble across the body and report it soon, but he doesn’t care.

Neil’s voice is different when he’s not wearing the helmet, and so is his gasp when Andrew pushes him against the still-dripping wall and presses their mouths together in a bruising kiss. He has a grip on his t-shirt, one in his hair, and he angles their mouths together in a way that has Neil scrabbling against the wall for support.

“Andrew,” he says, and the sound is long, drawn out. Neil tips his head back against the wall and Andrew mouths at his neck, his skin warm from the blood pumping life through his body.

Neil is a killer, the imposter among them, but his skin still bruises and his body still reacts to Andrew’s touch. He kisses him, again and again and again, each one harsher than the last.

Andrew only pulls away when Neil’s tongue darts out to touch his bottom lip. He takes a step back. He needs to be more careful. He shouldn’t be letting Neil get close like this, it’s too dangerous. Too easy to slip up.

Neil’s eyes are blown, his cheeks flushed. “I think we should blame Lime,” he says, breathless.

Andrew presses another kiss to his mouth and resists the urge to sink his teeth into Neil’s lip. Dangerous.

Once under control, Andrew says, “There will be four of us left, after this.”

Neil nods, suddenly solemn. He almost looks regretful. He opens his mouth, closes it.

“Let’s go,” he says without meeting Andrew’s eyes, and Andrew has the feeling that he was going to say something else. Before he can ask, though, Neil is already pulling on his gear.

In the end, they can’t decide who to eject, and Lime is safe. For now.

_ _

“I didn’t do that one,” Neil says quietly, peering down at Lime’s twisted body at the bottom of the stairs. Her neck is broken, blonde hair falling over a face slackened by death, though still etched with fear. Andrew imagines her eyes widening, mouth opening in a scream as hands wrap around her throat, shoving her down the stairs. The image is not difficult to conjure.

“Must have tripped,” Andrew replies. He looks at Neil in the corner of his eyes, and a thrill goes through him when he sees the now-familiar bloodred of his gaze.

“I suppose we report this to the others,” Neil says the same moment Cyan enters the room with Pink in tow.

“Get away from him,” Cyan snarls, and it takes a moment for Andrew to realize that they’re talking to him. “He is the imposter. You – Orange.”

Desperation makes people clumsy, sloppy, and Andrew sees that they are very afraid. Neil looks alarmed – and extremely guilty standing over the body. Never mind Andrew was also caught red-handed, Cyan and Pink surround Neil and Neil only.

So they don’t suspect Andrew at all.

“You killed Gen,” Cyan says, voice shrill. They leap at Neil, and with Pink’s help they corner him against the wall as Andrew watches on. “And I’m willing to bet you were plotting to kill Black too. Lure him down and execute him here.”

“What of it?” Neil says through clenched teeth. Cyan has his arms pinned to his sides, and there is nowhere for him to go. They force him back, crowding him into the ejection chamber. Neil jerks in their grip, but Cyan holds tight. Pink grapples with the panel on the wall to open the door, but his shaking hands slide helplessly over the smooth panel. He finally finds a grip and gets the door open.

“Look at his eyes,” Pink cries. “I told you. I told you he wasn’t human.”

“Shut up,” Cyan grits and shoves Neil into the chamber. Neil struggles, bucking in a last-ditch effort to get out of Cyan’s grip, but it’s useless. They found their imposter, and now they’re going to kill him. His wide red eyes meet Andrew’s calm ones, and he rams his body into Cyan’s, desperate.

Cyan grunts at the impact and looks over their shoulder at Andrew. “Black,” They hiss. “Minyard, help – ”

Andrew smiles, revealing the rows of razor-sharp teeth he has so carefully hid from everyone until now. Pink sees it first and screams, but it’s cut off when Andrew lunges and sinks his fangs in his slender neck. Blood gushes into his mouth, and it tastes so sweet. Pinks chokes, hands fluttering ineffectually at his sides as Andrew tears out his throat.

Cyan watches with horror, but before they can do anything, Neil is already there, his arms wrapped around their neck. He forces their head back at such a steep angle that Cyan cries out in pain, and shakes them like a ragdoll. It is easy now that they have the element of surprise, and Neil snaps Cyan’s neck with ease. They slump to the ground and Neil stares at their body, chest heaving from the fight.

“You,” he says, still out of breath, eyes traveling up to Andrew’s. “You’re the other one.”

Andrew licks his lips, blood dripping from his face, his sharpened teeth, and Neil tracks the movement. “Yes,” he says simply.

Neil grins. “Good. I would have hated killing you.”

“You never would have gotten close.” Andrew steps over Pink’s still-twitching body and hooks his fingers in the thick collar of Neil’s space suit. “Yes or no?”

Neil’s eyes are dilated, black enveloping red. “You already know my answer,” he says, voice heavy.

Andrew’s grip on him tightens. “Say it anyway.”

“Yes,” Neil says and Andrew yanks him in for a fierce kiss. Neil makes a sound low in his throat, guttural, and Andrew swallows it. He’s sure he nicks Neil with his teeth now that he’s not so concerned about keeping them hidden, but Neil doesn’t seem to mind. He is happy licking the blood from Andrew’s lips.

Neil’s eyes flash red and Andrew’s teeth bare in a sharp smile. Game over.

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Unexpected: Jimmy Palmer x Original Character

I am having to repost all my fics because tumblr terminated my old blog. So here we go spamming up the Jimmy Palmer tag.

=======

Jimmy Palmer could admit he’d never found himself too annoyed by Tony Dinozzo. In fact, Jimmy was usually capable of dealing with Tony’s less than mature behavior without becoming too frustrated or too flustered.

Jimmy had long ago learned to take Tony’s immature comments and his habit of being far too nosy about his coworker’s personal lives with good stride. He’d learned to brush off the comments and the jokes. To be honest, Jimmy had always been somewhat fond of Tony’s tendency to give him a hard time.

It felt more like the actions of an older brother pestering a younger sibling, than anyone with any ill intentions. Jimmy had no older siblings, only a younger sister. So, really it just felt like Tony was a big brother of sorts, giving Jimmy a hard time and harassing him because he cared. Jimmy knew the moniker of “Autopsy Gremlin” or the sarcastic comments and jokes weren’t meant to be cruel. He knew that deep down Tony didn’t mean any disrespect.

Lately though it was becoming harder and harder for Jimmy to brush off Tony’s comments and his bad habit of attempting to shove his nose where it didn’t belong.

Today had been particularly brutal, all thanks to an unfortunately noticeable dark bruise along Jimmy’s neck. Anyone with any social awareness would easily be able to deduce exactly just how Jimmy had gotten these marks along his neck. Most people would spot a bruise along someone’s neck and would know it meant one thing and one thing only.

Most people though wouldn’t have the audacity to mention it. Tony Dinozzo wasn’t most people.

Tony had been quite loud about pointing out the large hickey along Jimmy’s neck and he’d done it at a crime scene of all the places to possibly bring it up.

Jimmy’s cheeks had flushed a deep shade of scarlet as Tony had spotted the hickey unable to resist himself. “Jeez Palmer, what happened to you? Did you use a vacuum cleaner or did you manage to actually find a lady gremlin to do that for you? That thing is huge. I don’t know if I should be disgusted or impressed. I’m dying to know just where she learned to do that, because I’m assuming you didn’t teach her.”

Jimmy had resisted the urge to drown himself in the lake Dr. Mallard and he’d been retrieving a body from as he’d squeaked out an “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Though by the way Jimmy had pulled the collar of his jumpsuit up in a poor attempt to hide the lovebite along his neck, it had been quite obvious to everyone that Jimmy knew exactly what Tony was talking about.

Thankfully Tony had dropped the subject fast becoming distracted by Gibbs’ less than pleased expression, but the entire situation had still been so mortifying.

This wasn’t the first time anyone had spotted a little lovebite along Jimmy’s neck over the course of the past year, and it wasn’t the first time Tony had something to say about it. It was still none the less absolutely horrifying for Jimmy.

Each time Tony mentioned a lovebite along Jimmy’s neck, Jimmy died a little inside.

As the day had worn on so had Tony’s prodding and needless to say Jimmy was more than ready to get far far away from NCIS headquarters and he hoped and prayed he’d have the entire weekend to suppress the memory of any of this ever happening.

Jimmy had worked far too late for a Friday night and he was more than ready to get out of the building as Tony approached him at the elevator looking all too much like a shark that had spotted a pool of blood.

“In a rush to get home Palmer?”

Jimmy cleared his throat trying to pretend that he wasn’t frantically pushing the up button on the elevator as though that would make his only form of escape arrive any quicker. “It’s Friday.”

“Got big plans for the weekend? I’ve always been curious, just what does an Autopsy Gremlin do on the weekend? I’m almost afraid to ask.” Tony commented, working his way up to the main punchline.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders trying to play it cool. “Just a quiet weekend, nothing exciting.”

“Nothing exciting huh? I hope whoever gave you that little lovebite on your neck isn’t disappointed to hear that you don’t think they were exciting. I’m a little worried about just what you consider exciting if you didn’t find the process of getting that thing to be thrilling.” Tony pointed out while watching Jimmy squirm.

Jimmy groaned at this trying his best to play dumb in hopes this conversation would die. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Tony responded not shying away from giving Jimmy a pat on the back before he spoke again.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of Palmer, It’s only a little gross when I think about it. I’m actually kind of impressed. You did the impossible, you got a girl to do that for you and it’s not even the first time it’s happened. You can’t blame me for being curious. The Autopsy Gremlin is getting some sweet sweet loving and I have to know just what she looks like, it is a she right? If not, I don’t judge. I would just be surprised to find you swing that way, especially after the whole Agent Lee thing. Are you having an office romance again? I’m guessing not, since I haven’t noticed you getting any attention from any of the ladies at NCIS, which means that Lady Gremlin doesn’t work here.”

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors finally swung open, Jimmy escaping into the safe confines of the elevator so relieved that Tony didn’t follow him.

He spoke frantically pushing the close door button. “I gotta go, have a good weekend Tony.”

Jimmy closed his eyes, a heavy sigh of relief leaving him as he was finally left alone safe from Tony until next week.

A little voice in the back of his head was all too quick to speak Oh, if Tony only knew.

Jimmy had never meant for it to be like this. He’d never been the best at lying. Or, at least people told him he was a bad liar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a bad liar though, after all he’d been living a lie at work for a year now. He’d been lying to his coworkers for so long that his lies felt like truths at this point.

Jimmy’s personal life had become a well kept secret from the vast majority of his coworkers and Jimmy knew if the truth came out then Tony Dinozzo would kill him.

Jimmy had to believe though that the risk of death was well worth it. Olivia Dinozzo was so worth the risk of imminent death.

He hadn’t known exactly who she was when they’d first met on this elevator only a year before.

Olivia, or Liv as she preferred to be called had kind of stuck out like a sore thumb at NCIS headquarters.

They had met in the most unassuming of ways. The elevator had stopped at the first floor and Liv had stepped on wearing a visitors badge.

Jimmy had been hers in an instant and she hadn’t even known it. He’d glanced over at her and he couldn’t look away.  

The thin straps of the deep purple dress she’d been wearing hadn’t done a thing to hide her figure, at least when it came to cleavage.  The dress’ paisley print and loose flowing fabric had made her look more like she should be hanging out at a farmers market or making flower crowns in a field somewhere and not standing in a tiny elevator with a flustered Jimmy Palmer.

He’d been able to spot heavy looking turquoise earrings even through the thick strands of her long dark hair. The silver bangles on her wrist and the heavy gem ring on her finger had only made her look more like a freespirit and less like someone that should be visiting NCIS headquarters.

Her nails were kept trimmed and neat and painted with a dark blue polish. Her makeup was kept minimal with only a dusty pink lipstick on her lips. Her skin looked soft and milky and she smelled like a mixture of lavender and patchouli. A year later Jimmy would begin to associate the smell with her and the warmth he felt anytime she was close to him.  From their very first meeting he'd been just as captivated by that scent though.

Jimmy didn’t think anyone could blame him for admiring her. She was a gorgeous woman and Jimmy was a young single man with a pulse. He was going to notice a pretty girl standing so close to him on an elevator.

She honestly did take his breath away. It was her eyes that had really done it, those big blue eyes that had made him melt and made her almost resemble a little doll. She was a petite thing really, the top of her head reaching his chest. He was pretty sure he’d easily be able to rest his chin on top of her head if she were to stand cradled against him. She seemed so delicate. There was something about her that had made Jimmy want to wrap himself around her and protect her.

She would later explain to him that she’d actually done ballet as a child and had been pretty gifted until she’d torn a tendon in her ankle that killed her ballet career. Her petite stature had caused people to push her towards ballet insisting her body was suited for it. To her credit she had managed to become a talented dancer although she didn't think being petite had aided into that. She did joke puberty and the development of curves had hindered her career long before she’d screwed up her ankle. He could remember her comment “I already had being on the short side working against me, then I got boobs and a butt and I decided I better start turning my attention to painting and photography instead of dance. I got the impression that my career was over long before I messed up my ankle. People were pretty fast to tell me that my body wasn't so suited for dance after I hit puberty hard. My ankle injury gave me an excuse to change my path.”

Jimmy had clung onto that story just as eagerly as he’d clung on to every other word she’d ever said to him over the past year.

Although back then standing in that elevator heading up to the fourth floor, Jimmy would have found it unimaginable to even believe for a second that he would ever have the opportunity to cling on to every word she said.

To say that he was attracted to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her would be a vast understatement.

She of course had noticed he was staring and she hadn’t been shy to turn her head to face him raising a well manicured eyebrow questioning his obvious gawking.

Jimmy had managed to work the words from his throat, automatically thinking he felt like a moron at his choice in words. “Visiting?”

He’d almost wished he could toss himself down the elevator shaft at the realization of the words that had left him. A voice in the back of his head had been so quick to taunt him “Way to sound nosy and accusatory. You might as well have yelled: you don’t belong here. Nice going, she probably thinks you’re a classist asshole. She has a visitors badge clipped to her dress of course she’s visiting, not that it’s any of your business.’’

Much to his shock and disbelief she hadn’t taken his comment as him being rude. Instead she’d given him a sweet little smile that had made him all the more hers. “Yes, is it really that obvious? I’m actually making a surprise visit to my brother. He’s not expecting me until next week. I’m just hoping he’s not too busy. I know his schedule is a little odd. It’s just been a while since I last saw him. So I thought I’d surprise him at work.”

She’d paused raising an eyebrow at Jimmy’s usual work uniform of pale blue scrubs. She spoke up before Jimmy had a chance to ask about her brother. “Do you work here?”

Jimmy felt the words leave him ignoring the voice that told him he was babbling like an idiot and stumbling over his own words. “Yes, I uh...I w-work in Autopsy actually. I’m the assistant medical examiner….I’m still in school so I can’t really call myself a medical examiner until I pass my licensing exam. So, for now I-I’m just assisting our lead medical examiner Dr. Mallard. I’m usually down there in the basement. I just, I was coming upstairs to use the vending machines in the breakroom on the fourth floor. The vending machine in the basement always steals my dollars and I uh, I thought a soda sounded better than instant coffee.I had an early morning with a body pickup...so, uh, yeah...I-I work here.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to shut himself up knowing he was giving her far more information than she ever asked for. Why was he such an oversharer? He’d always been like this. He could get anxious and he’d find himself unable to stop talking. He never knew how to just sit quietly with his own thoughts.

He was stunned that she didn’t shut down the conversation at the mention of autopsy or a body pickup. Though her eyes did grow a little wide at the concept of just what he did for a living. Much to his shock she spoke the sweet smile not straying from her lips even though it had weakened just a bit as she took in his comments. “Oh, instant coffee is the worst.”

He parted his lips wanting to say something more, anything to keep her talking to him. He wanted to ask her about her brother or hell even ask her for her name.

All of his questions were answered as the elevator stopped at the fourth floor and both Jimmy and his companion stepped out into the passageway.

Jimmy watched stunned as the young woman he’d been so shamelessly admiring tackled the last person Jimmy had ever been expecting into a tight hug.

Ziva and McGee watched just as stunned as Jimmy as Tony lifted the girl from the ground, a foreign look of paternal adoration crossing Tony’s features. The girl giggled clearly accustomed to this type of treatment.

Tony spoke still holding her up ignoring his gawking coworkers. “I thought you weren’t coming until next week?”

She spoke as he finally placed her back on the ground, she straightening out her dress and her purse. “I found an earlier flight for much cheaper. I had demote down from first class but I didn’t mind. Pretzels and soda are just as good as pretzels and champagne even if the seats were a little smaller and I didn’t have as much leg room. My suitcases are downstairs in my rental car and the rest of my belongings are still due to arrive next week unless the movers really screw something up. I’ve already signed the lease on my apartment but I’ve got a hotel in the meantime.”

“You don’t have to stay in a hotel. I have a sofa.” Tony insisted a laugh leaving her as she rolled her eyes clearly resistant to this offer.

“The last time I slept on your futon I had sore hips for days. I think I prefer an actual bed and room service over a futon and cold pizza which I would have to pick all the meat off of in hopes I don’t get sick.” She remarked Tony letting out a scoff at the comment.

He cleared his throat finally noticing they had an audience. He spoke nodding down to her and to Ziva and McGee. “Probie, Ziva, this is my little sister Olivia Dinozzo.”

“Liv, please. Everyone calls me Liv.” She insisted giving a small wave.

“I did not realize you have a sister Tony.” Ziva admitted Mcgee fast to speak up, confirming. “Yeah, you’ve never mentioned it. I thought you were an only child.”

Liv spoke explaining everything. “I’m his half sister. Same dad, So, both progeny of Dinozzo Senior. My mother was his second wife, but not for more than two years. I was a bit of a surprise baby, Tony was already out of the house for most of my childhood. I’ve been living across the country for a few years now and before that I wasn’t even in the United States. I’m a freelance photographer and I’ve done a lot of photography for travel magazines and brochures so I’ve always been on the move. I’ve recently been hired for a teaching position at a community center though, so I’ve settled into the area.”

Tony finally took notice of Jimmy’s presence, taking notice that the young man was still gawking at events that had just taken place. “Autopsy Gremlin, who let you out of the basement? Shoo, get out of here. Don’t make me get a spray bottle after you again.”

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush, he hating that little nickname for the first time ever. Liv thankfully didn’t seem amused by the comment, rolling her eyes giving her brother a nudge as she spoke to Ziva, McGee, and Jimmy. “I am so sorry you all have to work with my brother.”

No one had a chance to respond as Tony spoke, shoving the files he’d been holding all too roughly into McGee’s arms. “Be nice, I'm buying your lunch. I’ll even find a place that serves tofu and lettuce.”

She let out a huff apparently well versed in this conversation. “Just because I’m a vegetarian doesn’t mean my entire diet only consists of tofu and lettuce.”

Jimmy watched hopelessly as Liv left following along behind Tony towards the elevators not giving Jimmy a second glance.

This was just his luck, he’d met a beautiful woman who hadn’t minded his awkward babbling, only to discover she was essentially untouchable.

He felt foolish for even having the thought. Who was to say she’d ever willingly allow him to touch her?

She was so far out of his league that it wasn’t even funny. Besides who was to say he’d ever see her again even if she had mentioned settling down into the area. The Virginia DC area wasn’t tiny, so chances are he’d never see her again.

Maybe Jimmy had just been single for too long now? Dating in combination with his odd career path and the time his schooling demanded wasn’t easy. He’d had more unsuccessful dates than he’d ever admit to, and his last relationship had been less of a relationship and more of a string of hooking up with one another in secret. It had been months since his last relationship had ended. He had been the one who’d ended that relationship admitting he’d wanted more from a romantic partner than the physical aspect of it. He’d had poor luck in actually finding a relationship though.

He’d begun to feel lonelier than he’d ever admit. He was starting to consider possibly giving online dating a try, but it seemed impossible with his erratic schedule and his less than conventional career path.

A small part of him was beginning to lose hope that he’d actually find anyone who would be willing to put up with him.

He told himself he was an idiot for feeling so disappointed that Liv was so unattainable. Pursuing her would never work. Jimmy had a distinct feeling that if he ever dared to even give Liv a flirty smile that Tony would bury him so deep into the ground that the devil himself would need a shovel to dig Jimmy back out again.

It was a lost hopeless cause.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

Much to Jimmy’s surprise though, fate had seemed to decide that it was in fact meant to be.

It had been two weeks since their meeting when fate had seemed to drag them back together.

Jimmy had been enjoying a rare leisurely day at the park enjoying a book and a sandwich he’d gotten from a nearby deli and taking in a nice spring day. He’d barely gotten more than a few bites of his lunch when a rather large dog had come out from nowhere snatching his BLT right from his hands and chomping it down.

He’d been stunned at this turn of events and that dumbstruck feeling had only intensified as a familiar voice sounded out. “Seriously? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jimmy had stared dumbfounded as Liv Dinozzo approached him her face flushed and her breathing heavy a sheen of sweat cross her skin. It was clear she’d been running after the dog for a long while now.

She spoke her voice frantic, barely even having the courage to look him in the eyes. This entire situation was beyond awkward. “I am so so so sorry. I was trying to adjust his leash and he worked his way free. He’s not even my dog. I was just walking him as a favor for my neighbor and if I’d known he’d do this I wouldn’t have offered. I’m just new in the area and I thought I’d win some points with my neighbor, since her arm is broken, by offering to walk her dog.”

She paused, finally meeting his gaze, a look of recognition crossing her features. “Wait...I know you. You, uh, you work with my brother right? I didn’t catch your name? We met on the elevator. Please don’t tell me I’m completely wrong about that. I think we’ve met before, right? I really don’t want to make this entire situation all more mortifying.”

He spoke trying not to cringe as the dog licked his hand soaking it clearly searching for another snack. “I, uh, yeah we met. Liv right? Tony didn’t introduce us properly. I’m James Palmer, but uh...everyone calls me Jimmy.”

He cringed even more, counting his blessings that she hadn’t brought up the name Tony had called him Autopsy Gremlin.

She spoke, clearing her throat shifting in place still feeling so horribly embarrassed. “I wish I could say we were meeting again under better circumstances. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am. Please let me make it up to you. I can buy you lunch. Anything you want to eat. Have lunch with me as a way to make up for this all.”

Jimmy felt his heart pound in his chest. She wanted to have lunch with him. Was this real life? He spoke nodding his head frantically. “Okay. I-uh, do you need help with the leash. I may be able to help. I worked as a veterinary tech during a summer in college.”

She handed over the leather leash Jimmy not helping but to appreciate just how silken her skin truly was as her fingertips brushed his.

He’d somehow lived up to his offer to get the leash on thanking his upper body strength as he helped her corral the dog to her car.

He’d tried not to gawk when they’d returned to dog to the brownstone she lived in. It was clear as day that her property was far nicer than Jimmy’s own. It made sense though he guessed, didn’t the Dinozzo’s come from old money? Tony might have been cut off from the family fortune but Liv clearly was not.

If she’d noticed his gawking she’d not mentioned it. To be honest, she’d seemed relieved that he hadn’t brought it up, nor had he mentioned it when she’d insisted on taking him a more expensive bistro than he’d usually eat at.

Much to his surprise and relief talking to Liv Dinozzo had actually felt easy the longer their lunch had lasted, even with his occasional tendency to be a little awkward. She hadn’t seemed to mind that he talked far too much and got far too enthusiastic. If anything she’d found his enthusiasm kind of sweet.

It had been so easy to talk to her that he’d taken a chance and asked to have lunch with her again or maybe dinner with him paying this time.

Much to his shock she’d said yes.

It had become a routine, spending time together. They’d spent months spending quite a bit of time together, going to lunches and dinners and museums and walks through the park.

It was a friendship really and Liv seemed oblivious of Jimmy’s more amorous feelings towards her. Or at least it seemed to Jimmy that she was blind to the fact that he clearly saw her as more than just a new friend.

Jimmy had been incapable of hiding it forever though.

It had started out so innocent. It had been a nice spring day and they’d taken a risk leaving the park and walking a few blocks to an ice cream parlor to cool down.

As they’d been leaving the ice cream parlor a spring storm had hit and they’d gotten caught in the downpour. They’d run the rain soaking them both until they’d found sanctuary under the awning of a building for lease.

Jimmy couldn’t help it. They’d been standing so close to one another the sound of rain hitting the cloth awning above them the scent of rain in the air.  He’d looked down at her and she’d been staring up at him and before he’d known it his lips had been pressed to hers.

He’d barely had the mind to even comprehend as she eagerly returned the passion of his kiss, his insecurities far too loud to ignore.

He’d spoken frantically babbling so sure he’d ruined everything. “I am so sorry. I have really screwed this all up. I should have never done that. I did that without even asking you for your consent. I know you aren’t romantically interested in me at all. I understand that you don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you, and I’m mature enough to accept rejection. I’m just begging you to please not let my lack of judgement ruin any chance of friendship. I swear that will never happ…”

He didn’t have a chance to keep rambling as Liv did the only thing she could think to do to stop him. She placed a hand over his mouth, the action gentle but firm. “Jimmy slow down for a moment and breathe.”

She pulled her hand back after he nodded his head signaling that he understood. The words that left her made his jaw drop. “Why do you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

Was she being serious? Was this some kind of cruel joke? Was this an attempt to really make it clear she was rejecting him? Did she want him to give her the reason she wouldn’t be interested in him just to make sure he understood why and wouldn’t pull this ever again?

Surely she wasn’t that cruel. He didn’t think she was cruel at all. She didn’t seem cruel enough to force him to vocalize the cold harsh truth like this.

He spoke his shoulders sagging, his brows furrowed, the answer seeming so obvious. “You’re out of my league. How could you ever even have me on your radar? Why would you ever be interested in me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be interested?” She asked, causing his jaw to drop once again.

She spoke again, shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness of this moment. How could such an intelligent man be so oblivious? “I have been flirting with you for over a month now. I must be really shitty at it if you didn’t figure it out.”

He spoke his brain going a mile a second trying to think over every second they’d spent together over the past month. “You were?”

She wanted to bury her head in her hands at the question. God, he really was clueless wasn’t he? “Yes, very bluntly.  Honestly, I was flirting with you long before that. You didn’t seem to be getting the hint though, so over this past month I’ve really amped it up. You really didn’t think I needed to ask your opinions on anatomy for that art piece I was working on did you?”

She spoke again, spotting the look of confusion on his face. “You’ve been to my place Jimmy. You’ve seen my bookcases. I have more than enough books that I could turn to for reference if I had a question about getting the anatomy accurate on a painting.”

He felt his cheeks flush at the realization. He’d honestly missed all the signs. If anything he’d just read her jokes and smiles and friendliness. He’d thought she was asking for his help because she’d wanted to get back into painting and he had a deep understanding of anatomy. She’d insisted that he was the only one she trusted to guide her. She’d insisted he had the advantage of both having an analytical mind thanks to his medical knowledge and a creative mind thanks to his own passion for art. He’d been flattered by her insistence and had missed that the praise she’d given him had a flirty undertone to it. Sure, he’d noticed lingering touches and deep gazes but he’d assumed it was all in his head.

She spoke shaking her head slightly. It would be pathetic if he wasn’t so sweet. “Jimmy you asked how you could ever be on my radar, but how could you not be? I mean...did you miss the part where I kissed you back?”

He’d spoken surprised by an uncharacteristic surge of confidence sounding far smoother than he was sure he’d ever sounded. “I may have missed it. Could you refresh my memory?”

She’d leaned up her lips pressing to his he easily melting into the kiss returning it eagerly his arms encircling her waist pleased to find she fit against him just as perfectly as he’d imagined she would.

The smoothness faded from his voice, he sounding uncertain as he pulled his lips from hers. “What does this mean for us?”

She’d not minded his lack of confidence, her hand stroking his jawline, he leaning into her touch as she reassured him. “I didn’t work so hard flirting with you for months now for us not to make things official.”

And they had made things official.

There had only been one problem; Anthony Dinozzo Jr.

Liv had looked so guilty and so afraid when she’d brought it up only a month into Jimmy’s and her romantic relationship. “We don’t have to keep it from him forever, Jimmy. Trust me, this isn’t me being ashamed to be with you. I promise you it isn’t. I adore you so much. You’ve been so perfect and so sweet and I love being with you. Please don’t think I could ever be ashamed to tell anyone. Tony is just..Our childhood was a disaster. Dinozzo Sr. isn’t the warm fuzzy take you to watch baseball kind of dad. Trust me. Most of the kids I grew up with were shoved off on nannies the second we popped out of the womb.”

She paused shaking her head. “You know my mom died when I was four and even though she’d already left Dinozzo Sr. custody of me still went to him. Tony was in boarding school by then and Dinozzo Sr. wasn’t into actually raising me. So nannies took over all the parenting. It was just the normal thing to do in that environment. It just creates a cycle where parents find it easier to throw money at their kids instead of giving them any attention and the kids act out to get attention. Dinozzo Sr. really only gave me attention when he needed to make himself look good. And Tony was out of the house for good when I was a preteen, so I was left alone with that.”

She paused again clearing her throat. “I rebelled. I was hungry for any kind of attention even if it was negative. I had a pretty intense party girl phase starting in my teens and lasting into my early twenties. I wasn’t the only one...you know the stereotype, rich kids having the world and squandering and not appreciating the opportunities they’re given. I wanted my dad’s attention and he didn’t even notice. I think he didn’t write me out of the will and cut me off because he’d already done that song and dance with Tony. I guess it was too shameful to have two disowned kids instead of just one. He kept feeding my trust fund and pretended not to notice when I acted out.. So I sought out attention from other sources and found myself in some pretty awful situations. I mean..it was chaos and I was right there in the middle of it. I managed to stay clean at least when it came to anything harder than pot. I still partied too much though. My friend group didn’t shy away from the harder stuff and I didn’t have the sense to stay away from them. When things got scary, I couldn’t call my dad because he wouldn’t come rescue me. Tony was the only one who was ever there for me.”

“He was the only one you could trust.” Jimmy remarked Liv letting out a soft sigh nodding her head.

She spoke again. “I called Tony to bail me out of whatever mess I’d gotten myself into more than once. When I hit rock bottom he helped me sort my shit out. Even though it’s been a few years and I’m in a far better place emotionally, Tony still sees me as a scared little girl who finds herself in messes and needs rescuing. He is overprotective and anytime a guy shows me any interest he scares them off. I know you’re going to try to reassure me that he won’t scare you off...but that’s not my biggest worry.”

She paused taking a deep breath and deciding to just be blunt about it. “My brother has a gun and he knows exactly how to use it Jimmy.”

Jimmy felt himself pale at what she was insinuating. She spoke once again spelling it out even more her eyes beginning to water. “I don’t know how he would react, especially considering you technically work together. I think he just needs time to see that I’m really okay and that I’ve grown up and am no longer the girl I used to be. He needs to understand I don’t need him to protect me anymore. I don’t want us to keep our relationship a secret from him, but I don’t know what else we can do for now. I know it’s so unfair for me to ask that of you and I know it makes the worst girlfriend on the planet. I wish there was a better way, I jus…”

She didn’t have a chance to keep speaking as Jimmy spoke interrupting her his heart aching at the tears in her eyes. He couldn’t take her crying. He couldn’t stand the thought of it. She was far too beautiful to be filled with any sorrow. “I don’t like keeping it a secret either. You aren’t the worst girlfriend on the planet though, I promise. I’m okay with following your lead on this. We can do what you think is right for as long as you need. I like you too much to risk anything. Whatever makes you comfortable, I’m going to support you.”

They hadn’t intended it to be a year later and for them to be no closer to telling Tony the truth, but the timing had just never seemed right.

So they had persisted on like this, keeping Tony in the dark about everything.

There had only been one time where he’d almost discovered it all and that had been when Liv had called her number flashing along Jimmy’s cell’s screen in front of Tony. Jimmy had felt his stomach drop at Tony spoke. “Why is my sister calling you?”

Jimmy had spoken silencing his phone the lie falling from him. “I’m helping her with an art piece.She wanted some insight on anatomy and I offered to help…I uh, we ran into each other at a coffee shop a little while back and she remembered that you and I work together and asked for my help. So, I’ve just been giving her a second opinion on her work from a more analytical standpoint.”

He felt his heart drop Tony making it obvious he didn’t like this information. “I’d rather her ask Ducky for an anatomy lesson. Watch yourself Palmer.”

That had been a clear sign to Jimmy that they probably were doing the right thing keeping it a secret. He’d spotted a dangerous edge to Tony’s voice that day and Jimmy had easily remembered Tony’s gun.

As time went on though Jimmy knew it couldn’t stay a secret forever. Especially if they wanted any kind of future together.

Their relationship had grown serious. It was serious enough that Jimmy had introduced Liv to his family. He’d been able to at least announce that she was his girlfriend in that environment even if it was a secret at work.

Jimmy couldn’t help but to fear that they were getting a little too sloppy lately though, considering the evidence of their relationship had appeared on his neck more than once these past few months.

He tried his best to shake his worries from his mind as he arrived at her place; he was almost able to go on autopilot at this point when it came to the trip to her apartment after work.

Jimmy wasn’t surprised that she embraced him the second he walked through her door he barely having time to drop his bag and his spare key.

He buried his face against her taking in her familiar smell and the warmth of her body, the smell and touch feeling soothing after the day he’d had.

They stood there silently holding on to one another, soaking up the moment before she finally spoke, only pulling back from him far enough to speak clearly. “You smell like stinky hospital soap.”

He managed to chuckle at this pointing out the truth. “It’s preferable to what I smelled like before I used the hazmat shower at work.”

She spoke not shy about asking as she straightened out his tie the deep silver material having been a gift from her. It was a nice silk blend that he would never have gotten for himself. “That bad?”

“Awful.” He admitted his stomach turning at the memory.

She spoke nodding her head trying not to cringe at her own question or the information she risked receiving. “Worst than the body Dr. Mallard and you pulled from that sauna a few months ago?”

“So much worse. The sauna body may have been a pile of sludgy decomp, but this body today was pulled from a lake. So it was bloated and it smelled like severe decay and fish and algae all at once. The fish had gotten to some of the body so we’re working with a mess. I thought the smell would never leave my sinuses. Dr. Mallard took some sympathy on me and let me use the hazmat shower again.”

Liv nodded her head at this information trying not to visibly shudder at the imagery. She’d long ago figured out that when it came to her boyfriend’s odd career choice she had to have a tough stomach and strong will if she ever wanted him to feel comfortable venting about work to her or expressing excitement about something he’d found interesting at work.

She’d learned far more about decomposition and murder than she ever wanted to know, but she’d kept her disgust at bay telling herself being able to have Jimmy share the events of his day with her was well worth the disgusting details.

He’d been so hesitant to share the details with her at the beginning of their relationship, admitting to her that most people were uncomfortable with the details surrounding his job. She’d gently reassured him though that he should be allowed to share details about his day with her. If needed to vent about something he found frustrating or share something he found fascinating, she didn’t want him to have hesitations. She’d reassured him that if it ever became too much or too disturbing she’d stop him. She’d done her very best to resist stopping him from sharing with her though. She just wanted to be the best girlfriend possible. He needed someone to share his burdens with who wouldn’t judge him.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek her voice soft and reassuring. “Did it totally kill your appetite? Please tell me you didn’t skip dinner. You know your blood sugar plummets when you skip out on eating.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple not at all minding her scolding. “I ate. Dr. Mallard bought me dinner. Speaking of, he wants us to come to dinner Sunday. I told him I would need to check with you before I committed, just in case you had plans for us.”

“I don’t have any plans for us. I’d be happy to have dinner with him.” She reassured Jimmy trying her best to pretend she wasn’t still trying to shake the image of corpse eating fish from her brain.

Jimmy nodded his head relieved that she never seemed to be tempted to turn down Ducky’s dinner invites.

Dr. Mallard was the only person Jimmy worked with who knew about Liv and he. It had been an accident, telling Dr. Mallard.

Jimmy had been in the middle of assisting with an autopsy when Dr. Mallard had been rattling on about a case he’d worked where a man had been poisoned with cyanide being added to his palak paneer. The man had never seen it coming, his wife had poisoned him knowing he wouldn’t suspect her to poison his favorite meal.”

Jimmy had felt the words leave him before he could stop it. “I may need to tell Liv that Indian food night is cancelled for a little while.”

He’d felt his cheeks flush relieved that it had just been him and Dr. Mallard here to hear this information. He’d frantically explained it all, admitting the truth and confirming that Liv was Olivia Dinozzo and yes they were an item and please don’t tell Tony.

Much to Jimmy’s relief Dr. Mallard had agreed to keep his secret though he’d left him with a firm warning. Secrets couldn’t stay secrets forever and when the truth came out the fallout might not be so pleasant.

Jimmy had been relieved that Liv hadn’t been upset that he’d let their secret slip once he’d reassured her it was safe with Dr. Mallard.

Liv pressed her lips to his he easily melting into it as he always seemed to do. She giggled he so clearly chasing her lips for another kiss as she pulled away and spoke. “Can you hold off on calling him to confirm our invite until tomorrow. I have plans for you tonight.”

“Oh you do?” He asked as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

“So many plans.” She insisted her lips trailing down his neck a giggle leaving her as she spotted evidence of the last time they’d gotten a little caught up in one another.

She spoke an apologetic tone crossing her voice. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of your neck.”

He let out a soft sigh nodding his head. “Tony pointed it out, but I deflected it. He’ll probably drop it once something else attracts his attention. He’ll have the whole weekend to forget it.”

She nodded her head trying to pretend her stomach wasn’t turning at this knowledge that her brother might be catching on. He had no reason to suspect she was the one who’d left all those hickies on Jimmy’s neck. After all, Jimmy was careful enough to return them on her skin in places she could easily hide. Not to mention Tony had no idea that Jimmy and she spent any time together aside from the occasional “art project” Jimmy helped her with.

She knew it was getting more and more difficult to hide the truth. The more intertwined Jimmy’s and her life became the more they risked Tony finding out in the worst way possible.

There had been so many moments over the past year that Liv had wanted to tell Tony everything. She’d rehearsed it all in her head practicing the words again and again. She’d told herself that she just needed to have a heart-to-heart with her older brother and confess exactly how she felt about Jimmy and exactly how she felt in general. The timing was never right though. She never quite worked up the nerve to just bite the bullet and tell Tony everything.

She’d be lying if she tried to pretend that she didn’t feel like the worst girlfriend on the planet. After all, she’d met Jimmy’s entire family but she couldn’t find the balls to tell her own brother about Jimmy. Jimmy had been so proud to introduce her to his mother and his sister and grandmother. Why couldn’t she be proud to tell Tony that Jimmy was her boyfriend.

She knew the longer this went on the worst the outcome would be. The consequence of her choice would bite her in the ass eventually.

Deep down she knew the truth would need to come out sooner than later especially as Jimmy and she began to discuss their plans for the future and the fact that those plans very much involved one another.

She tried to push the worries from her mind as she spoke a soft sigh leaving her. “I’ll be more careful from now on. In my defense though, I just couldn’t help myself. You were being so cute and cuddly and we were having a lazy morning. I just got caught up in how sweet and handsome you are and how much I love you.”

“We were having a nice morning, I love you too.” Jimmy responded unable to stop the dreamy smile crossing his lips at the memory of exactly what they’d been doing when she’d left deep purple hickies along his neck.

To be fair he had left a share of his own lovebites along her body.

She ran her lips down his jaw running them lightly along his neck as she spoke. “So, I got a new camera.”

He felt his breath hitch finding it hard to concentrate when she was standing this close to him, her lips sliding along his skin. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, It’s a pretty nice vintage Canon 35 mm camera from the late seventies I’ve had my eye on for a while. I finally found a refurbished one that is almost as good as new. I’m thinking I want to try doing a series of photos with it, maybe using some black and white film and doing it all old school. The only problem is I need to test it out first, make sure the film I got for it is good to go. I’m going to develop all the pictures myself and make sure it’s taking nice clear photos.” She explained pausing running her lips along the nape of his neck loosening his tie and unfastening hsi dress shirt just enough to reach his bare skin.

She spoke again already knowing she would have very little trouble convincing him. “So, do you want to help me test my camera out?”

He nodded his head eagerly unashamed of just how needy he sounded as the words left him. “I’m always happy to be your test model.”

She chuckled as she turned, taking his hands in hers leading him back towards her bedroom. “You were way too easy to convince. I didn’t even have to bribe you with an offer to take some nude photos for you.”

“Can we bring that offer back to the table?” he asked unashamedly, following her to her bedroom and whatever she had planned for him so eagerly.

“Sit still for a few photos and we’ll see.” She remarked already knowing he’d probably sit through however many photos she wanted even without a bribe.

He loved her far too much to say no, and she had no problem taking full advantage of it.

Needless to say, she had a feeling she might not be able to hold true to her promise to be a little more careful when it came to leaving lovebites along Jimmy’s neck.

……………………………………………………………….

A loud bang wasn’t the ideal way to wake up early on a Saturday morning. The banging persisted even as she attempted to bury her head underneath her pillow.

She let out a groan rolling her eyes as it hit her that Jimmy was still fast asleep apparently he was far too drained from the day before and the late night they’d had to allow something like some persistent knocks at her front door to wake him.

The only indication he gave that he was even aware of the situation was a drowsy half asleep comment muffled against his pillow “Tell the neighbor to be quiet, too early baby. Oli make em be quiet.”

She shook her head knowing it did no good to wake him and explain exactly what was happening. He worked so hard during the week. He deserved to have a restful sleep on the weekends. He needed his rest. She just had to go tell whoever was at her front door this early to get lost and then she could go back to sleep too.

She pulled herself from the bed finding one of Jimmy’s t-shirts and a pair of panties knowing the shirt was large enough to cover her lower half. To be safe she at least put a kimono on over the makeshift outfit knowing a little extra coverage would be wise.

She moved quickly, shutting the bedroom door behind her and making her way to the front door where the knocking continued.

She peered through the peephole, her stomach dropping. Well crap. She hoped Jimmy really was sleeping as deep as he’d seemed to be just a moment ago.

She just had to crack the door and get rid of Tony, and she could go back to bed with no one being the wiser about just who was sleeping nude in her bed.

She attempted to do just that, Tony not shy about speaking far too loudly for this time of the morning. “What the hell? I thought you’d never answer the door.”

“It’s Saturday morning.” She responded keeping the door cracked, hoping he’d get whatever he wanted out fast so she could get rid of him.

“I called but you didn’t answer. I need help. You remember Gina?” Tony insisted reaching forward pushing the door.

“Barely, what about her?” Liv asked, attempting to push back against the door trying to keep him out of her apartment and keep her cool pretending that his coworker wasn’t asleep in her bedroom.

Despite her attempts to keep the door shut Tony managed to work it open, letting himself in. “I thought I’d finally got rid of her but she found me when I went out last night and the only way I could escape was by telling her my sister had an emergency. We were at my place and she wasn’t leaving without a fight. I was desperate to get out of there. She might still be at my place. I just need somewhere to lie low until she gets bored and leaves.”

“That was last night, did you seriously sleep with her and now you’re trying to use me as an excuse to ditch her?” Liv asked deep down inside knowing that she already knew the answer to this question.

She might love Tony, but she couldn’t deny the fact that her older brother could be, well, a giant asshole at times. The man was the poster child for commitment issues.

“Well, when you put it that way it sounds bad., I can’t help it, Livy, she has this power over me. I cannot tell her no and then when I have a chance to regret it then it’s already too late.” Tony insisted not taking notice of Jimmy’s messenger bag on her floor.

He did notice something else of Jimmy’s though. “Wait a minute, you didn’t go to Georgetown.”

Liv felt her heart drop as she realized Tony was staring down at her t-shirt, the same t-shirt Jimmy had worn to bed last night and had ditched at some point when they’d decided to go for a round two where he’d left a very noticeable hickey long her left thigh as revenge for the new lovebite she’d given him along his collarbone.

She parted her lips trying to come up with a lie fast, but she didn’t have a chance as the actual owner of her t-shirt made his way into the room rubbing the sleep from his eyes not even noticing his girlfriend’s guest as he obstructed his own vision with his hand.

At least he’d managed to grab a pair of boxers from the floor instead of wandering into the room as nude as he’d been just a moment ago.

He spoke as he continued to rub the sleep from his eyes still oblivious to the situation at hand. “Baby it’s so early, why are you up? I thought I heard knocking but then…”

He felt the statement die on his lips as he lowered his hand, his stomach dropping as he realized the reality of their current predicament.

Tony moved quickly, starting to race towards Jimmy, his eyes narrowing. He spoke as Liv moved just as fast stepping between the men before things got too far. “What the hell Palmer? That’s my sister!”

Jimmy parted his lips, his voice sounding out though his throat was tightening panic bubbling in his gut. “Tony, I can explain everything.”

“Can you explain it? What the hell is there to explain? You’re sleeping with my sister? Oh god, she’s the one who’s been leaving all those hickies on your neck? You’re seriously hooking up with my little sister. You were in such a rush to leave work last night so you could come...have fun with my baby sister!.” Tony exclaimed disgust and rage crossing his features, he still attempting to reach forward more than likely debating throwing a punch Jimmy’s way.

“It’s not like that!” Jimmy exclaimed in response. It wasn’t just sex, he had to explain that this wasn’t just a case of him having some sort of friends with benefits situation with Liv.

“It sure as hell looks like that!” Tony remarked Liv pushing him forward trying her best to keep her enraged brother and her horrified boyfriend apart before someone got hurt.

She spoke trying to be the voice of reason. “We’re together Tony. We wanted to tell you…”

“Together? Are you serious?” Tony asked he moving forward again Liv pushing him away trying her best to keep the peace.

“Yes, together, we’ve been dating for a year now and we never meant for it to stay a secret this long. We just didn’t know how to tell you.” She explained, Jimmy fast to speak trying to support her and be another voice of reason. “I love her Tony. I promise you I’ve always had the best of intentions with Liv. She means the world to me.”

Tony spoke shaking his head disgust still written across his features he not hearing anything Jimmy had to say about any of this. “ My coworker Olivia? Him? Why didn’t you just twist the knife in more and sleep with Probie while you were at it.”

Liv let out a huff shaking her head trying not to sound offended by what he seemed to be insinuating. “I wasn’t just hooking up with Jimmy with no strings attached. This hasn’t just been sex. Believe it or not but I’m capable of having a loving stable relationship with someone who genuinely cares for me.”

Tony spoke so angry that he wasn’t going to shy away from going for a nerve he knew he could strike. “Well what else am I supposed to think Olivia? Considering your past, are you really surprised I don’t think the worst of your choice in men?”

“Don’t you dare. You have no right to hold any of that over my head!” Liv snapped her voice rising Jimmy shocked to hear a dangerous edge to her voice that was so unlike his girlfriend’s usual sweet gentle demeanor.

Tony scoffed at this comment. “Really? I don't have a right? You seem to forget that I’m always the one who has to clean up your messes.”

“That isn’t true! I’m not that person any more and you have no right to pretend I didn’t work hard to be a better person! I’ve worked so hard and you still treat me like I’m a disaster!” She cried out, her voice still so filled with rage.

Jimmy spoke, attempting to stop this before it got even uglier. “Tony, come on, this isn’t fair.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Palmer. Just how much has she told you about herself?” Tony snapped clearly ready to strike for blood and hurt his sister in exchange for her betrayal.

“Shut up Tony.” Liv snarled quickly, losing her cool the more Tony spoke.

Tony didn’t hold back letting his anger get the best of him. “Do you know how many times I’ve rescued her from whatever shitty situation she decided to get herself into? I have spent so many nights driving out to nightclubs or one of her shitty friend’s penthouses to save her because things got a little too real for her to handle. Did she tell you about the boyfriend who got coked out of his brain and she had to lock herself in a bathroom and call me to come save her because she was afraid he might hurt her? Or maybe she told you about the time she had to leave some guy’s apartment at two am and she wound up wandering the streets until she found a phonebooth to call me to come get her on a bad side of town. Or maybe she told you about the time she got herself arrested for being intoxicated and fighting with some guy in a parking lot at a seedy nightclub, so our father had to throw money at a judge to get the charges dropped? But Senior wasn’t ever there to actually rescue her. It’s always been me. Our father just throws more money at her and she keeps getting into trouble and never learning. I’m the one who always has to be the responsible one and stop her from getting hurt.”

Tony paused, regretting the words the moment they left his lips. “Trust me Palmer, I know my sister. She’s always been like this. Too much to put up with and too hard to love. She’s so starved for affection that she jumps into bed with anyone who’ll have her. So forgive me for not believing she’s actually got her shit together for once.”

The harsh tone that Liv’s lips shocked both men her voice cracking as she spoke. “Get out of my apartment!”

Tony took a deep breath calming his anger realizing he’d really messed up. He’d tried to go for a jugular to hurt her and he’d succeeded. “Liv please…”

“Get the fuck out!” She snapped her voice sounding shrill an explosive anger leaving her so unlike her.

Tony parted his lips trying to find the words but Jimmy spoke deciding to do what needed to be done. He had promised Liv he’d support her in whatever she needed to do, and he meant it. “You need to leave Tony. Just go.”

Tony looked as though he wanted to protest but he let out a deep breath taking one final apologetic glance his sister’s way before he finally left the apartment.

Jimmy and Olivia stood in silence Jimmy fearing her silence meant the worst. The insecure little voice in the back of his brain told him she’d want to be alone now. She’d blame him for wrecking her relationship with her brother. She’d want him to go.

He spoke praying the voice wasn’t true. “Oli.”

She turned taking him by shock her arms wrapping around his torso she squeezing him so tight it almost hurt. She spoke her voice sounding weepy as she tried and failed not to cry. “Jimmy.”

He rocked her against him as she spoke her voice still so tearful. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jimmy was fast to speak stunned she’d been just as afraid of his abandonment as he’d been afraid of hers. “Never, I’m never going to leave you.”

He continued to rock her against him as she cried, his heart breaking. He still couldn’t stand to see her cry. “I’ve got you, it’s okay. It'll all be okay. I love you.”

He repeated the words like a mantra rocking her against him as her body finally grew weak she unable to force herself to cry more even if she wanted to. “I love you. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not that girl anymore.”

“I know you aren’t. I know you weren’t her when we met at all. You’re you Oli. You’re the beautiful woman who took my breath away that day in that NCIS elevator. You’re the sweet gentle girl who bought me lunch because your neighbor's dog stole mine. You’re the girl who I kissed in the rain and all I could think was that you tasted like strawberry ice cream and all my dreams coming true. You’re the girl who kisses every inch of me and takes too many photos of me. You’re the beautiful girl who won’t let me tell you that I’m so unattractive that I’ll break your camera. You tell me all the things you like about me and make me feel more secure than anyone ever has and ever will. I know who you are.”

She closed her eyes praying to whoever might be listening that he meant it all. He spoke again trying to make his point clear. “You aren’t hard to love. You’re so easy for me to love.”

The statement caused more tears to fall she somehow clinging to him all the tighter. He managed to speak once again doing all he could to find some small way to soothe her. “Come on lets go get a bath okay. Just let me hold you in the bath for a little while. We can use that chamomile bubble bath soap you like to use when you’re having a bad day. Let me take care of you Oli.”

She nodded her head wordlessly, her body feeling so tired. She felt so exhausted as she tried to wrap her brain around Tony’s statement. He’d thrown all her worst fears right in her face. It hurt, it hurt so much. He was the only family she’d trusted and he’d said she was hard to love.

Jimmy pressed a kiss to her temple, making a silent promise to himself that he would do whatever it took to reassure her of his love. He didn’t care what it took.

He swallowed the lump in his throat trying to push back the anger bubbling in his gut. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive Tony Dinozzo for what he’d said and he definitely didn’t think he could forgive him for making her cry.

Jimmy would do whatever it took to make sure she never had a reason to cry by his side ever again.

[queenmuzz]

Operation: Tiddy Freedom

A special Valentine’s Day Dante x Reader oneshot.

“Oh, you guys are not going to believe this...” Dante yelped as he leapt down the stairs, three at a time, startling both you and Vergil as you organized the bookshelf. You were dusting, while Vergil placed the books (after 'checking' them thoroughly, more than once you had to clear your throat to get his nose out of a book and hand it to you) in their correct slots.

“Found this baby in storage in the upper room, it's over twenty years old, and boy, does it bring back memories!” he crowed proudly “And the best part, it still fits!”

You gave up resisting the distraction, and you finally turned around and saw Dante in the most ridiculous get up. Combat boots, dark brown leather pants... and no shirt. Instead, he wore a bright red, if a bit faded over time leather overcoat, with a wide matching red belt at the waist, with a silvery metal buckle. Looking at the holes on the belt, you deduced that it had never actually been buckled up, ever.

But what really caught your eyes was the brown, nearly black belt of leather that wrapped around his chest. Barely. It had obviously been designed when he was a younger, slimmer, less developed man. It looked like a hoop around a whiskey barrel, barely holding on. In fact, you were certain he was contracting his chest in to keep it from snapping. You could imagine the pattern of the leather embedded into his flesh for a few precious moments after it snapped, the texture of it as it faded under your fingertips as you slowly dragged them across across his chest...

“Ahem” The sound of Vergil disapprovingly clearing his throat, most likely in mockery of your earlier actions dragged you kicking and screaming back to the present. Slightly mortified to be caught in such a daydream, you anxiously glanced at both men, but Vergil was busy frowning at his younger brother, and Dante was too busy checking himself out in the reflection of the jukebox to notice you gawking.

“You looked ridiculous in that as a nineteen year old, and you look even more ridiculous now as a middle aged man, Dante.” Vergil observed, sharply.

“Says the guy who wore an ascot at the same time I wore this,” Dante countered, “Brother, you have no leg to stand on when it comes to fashion. And unlike you,” he paused to flex, and you swore you could hear from across the room, the leather belt protest at the stretching, “I still make it look good, regardless of age, don't you agree sweetheart?”

An uncomfortable period of silence occurred as his words pushed aside the fantasies you had clogging in your brain, like an overcrowded elevator. “O-oh, yeah... Dante... y-you look great,” you stammered. Okay, at least one of them had to notice that you must have turned as red as Dante's overcoat, but nope, the younger brother was too busy preening at your compliment, while the elder was rolling his eyes as he picked up several boxes full of old books.

“Dante,” Vergil's dour voice cut through his brothers cheerfulness, “you were supposed to be cleaning upstairs, not playing dress up. I thought we had agreed that today was to be dedicating to cleaning this poor excuse of a residence”

“Aw man,” Dante pouted, “You can't let a guy just reminisce about his younger years, just a little bit?”

“Look,” you interceded. You didn't want a fight to break out, piling 'Clean bloodstains off the floor' to your list of cleaning duties. “We all deserve a little break,” you turned to Vergil, “How about you drop off those old books to the used book shop, and have yourself a treat at the cafe?” Vergil paused, taking a moment to think about it, before hefting the box of books a bit higher, and nodding. “Very well,” he agreed, “I shall leave you and... this fool alone” You could have sworn you saw a knowing look in his eye as he stared at you for a moment, before he left. Did he know what thoughts were going through your head?. No, he couldn't have.

Even if he had, it was apparent that Dante was oblivious. He was still grinning like an idiot as he adjusted his leather gloves. “I guess I'll get back to the boooooring parts of this job. But....” he said as he pointed his thumbs to his muscular chest, “I'm still gonna keep wearing this”. And after clicking his tongue as he gave you finger guns, he leapt back up the steps, and back into his work.

You continued to tidy up the living room, dusting, organizing, and eventually you pulled out the ancient vacuum cleaner, nearly as dusty as the room itself had been. After getting it to work, you methodically sucked up all that you could, but you couldn't get the image out of your head. That leather belt pressing against his chest, the sound of it creaking as it struggled to envelop that mass of pure muscle. The white hairs peeking around the edges....

That was it, you thought... you needed to find a way to make that leather band snap, preferably while in your vicinity. And you had to be subtle about it, you'd be mortified if Dante found out what you were up to....

Operation: Tiddy Freedom commences now!

The easiest way was obvious; get him to flex his chest muscles. And to do that, he would have to exert himself, lifting something heavy... you looked at the couch, blocking your progress...

“Hey Dante!” you yelled over the drone of the vacuum. For a moment, you thought perhaps you should have turned it off first, but then, the man appeared, sliding down the banister, before landing perfectly on the ground floor.

“What's up babe?” he asked over the din, and you pointed at the couch, miming it being lifted up. You couldn't trust yourself to voice yourself, worried you'd give away your true intentions.

He got the message, “No problem! Anything for you, sweetcheeks” and you blushed, (you hoped if he noticed that, he'd think it was because of the pet name, and not in... anticipation.

And with about as much effort as it took to lift up the receiver of his phone, he lifted up the couch up with one hand, and smiled as he motioned you to proceed. Keeping one eye on his chest, you quickly vacuumed underneath, getting rid of the veritable hutch of dust bunnies that had accumulated.

The leather belt held....

You did your best to hide your disappointment, but really, what were you expecting? The Sparda brothers were freakishly strong, it wouldn't have taken Dante much effort to lift something like this, barely needing to flex his muscles. Your sighs were drowned out by the persistent whine of the vacuum, and you faked a thankful smile to him, (to be fair, he had been helpful, the antique couch would have been a pain in the butt to move by yourself).

The man gave you a cocky smile and then headed back up. You'd have to think of something else.

Operation: Tiddy Freedom

Phase One: Failure

After the living room was decent, you headed to the kitchen. You could vaguely hear Dante thumping around upstairs, and every so often you could hear him singing a rock tune or something. You wiped down the cupboards, emptied the drawers of all unessential items (Did you really need that power cord that goes to who knows what? Nah, just toss it....TOSS IT) and boxed the old dishes that you guys never used.

After coating the oven with the foamy oven cleaner, you decided to sweep the kitchen while you were waiting for it to do it's magic. While not as dusty as the living room, there were some grimy corners that cried out to be swept and scrubbed. One such threatening spot was on the edge of the base of the fridge. The metaphorical light-bulb (that strangely looked like the oven light) went off in your head.

“Dante!” you yelled out, “Need some more help!” And quick as a flash, as if you had summoned Hermes himself, the red clad demon hunter appeared.

“Alrighty, what can ole' Dante do for you?”

You composed yourself as best as you could “I need to sweep and scrub underneath the fridge, mind moving it for me?”

He grinned, and with a focused 'Hmmmph' he wrapped his muscular arms around the machine, pulled, and lifted. You had never in your life thought you would be jealous of a refrigerator, but then again, you never thought you'd fall in love with a silver fox half-demon. But now to the business at hand.

Dante kept the fridge up, a few inches off the floor as you tried to pretend to move quickly to sweep and with the scratchy side of a sponge, getting rid of the decades old dirt that had accumulated there. After all, the longer he held it up, the more likely that leather belt would snap. But there was no distinctive sound of creaking leather being pushed past it's breaking point, no grunt of surprise from Dante, and as he set it back in place after you finished, you quickly glanced at his chest.

The belt remained intact.

Dismay fought to take over your facial features, but you held firm. If he knew what you were trying to do, you weren't sure you could handle the teasing. So instead, you gave him yet another fake smile, thanking him profusely for his help. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the kitchen, and you heard his combat boots clattering up the stairs.

Operation: Tiddy Freedom

Phase Two: Failure.

You began to wipe out the cleaning foam out of the oven, marvelling at how something so delicate as a bunch of bubbles could be strong enough the strip the encrusted dirt. After that, you finished sweeping and scrubbing the rest of the kitchen floor, before taking a breather. All that was left for this room was taking the boxes of unused dishes to the car, for transport to the local second hand shop.

The boxes themselves weren't that heavy, so there was no point in asking him to help you, it was easy enough on its own.  But as you loaded the boxes into your car trunk, a devious idea popped into your brain.  Alright, perhaps the couch, and even the fridge hadn’t been enough, but surely lifting a car….

You pulled out your phone, then gently set it on the ground, before pushing it so it was totally out of reach underneath the vehicle.   Now, to put your acting skills to good use.

“Dante!” you cried out in mock horror, “I need help!”

The man came out running, a bit quicker than you thought, obvious worry on his face. Good, the ploy was working  “What’s wrong, babe?”

Now to play the part of lover in distress.  “My phone,” you said sadly, “I was carrying out the boxes to put in the trunk, and my phone popped out of my pocket, and I can’t reach it under the car.  Silly me, I should have left it inside.”

Dante’s face relaxed in relief as he took a peek at the undercarriage.  “Ah, don’t you worry your pretty little head, just be ready to snatch it up.  And after spending a few moments cracking his knuckles, he grabbed your back bunker, and with both hands, lifted the car a good three quarters of a metre off the ground.

You darted underneath, grabbed your phone, and once you were free and clear, tapped him on the shoulder to let him know it was safe to put it down, which he did with surprising gentleness.  You gave a kiss on the lips as thanks.

And yet, the leather belt still remained unbroken.

Operation: Tiddy Freedom

Phase Three: Failure

You sighed sadly.  All this work for naught.  You’d have to ask him who the leather-worker was for that, seeing as it was such good quality, even after these years.  But it was cold comfort…

“Babe, you okay?” his worried voice split into your morose thoughts.  You shook your head to clean out the mental cobwebs, and you smiled, although you didn’t feel like it.  You felt as dirty as the floor behind the fridge for making Dante do all these things, just for your amusement.

“It’s…. just been a long day, cleaning and such” you replied, truthfully this time.

“Awww, come here sweetheart,” and you felt his strong arms envelope you in a big hug.  So this is what the fridge felt like… You thought to yourself, as he tightly held you against his bare chest. 

All of a sudden, you heard, and felt  what was unmistakably the sound of leather stretching beyond its capabilities, and then....

SNAP!

Dante’s chest belt ripped down the middle, the two ends dangling sadly at his sides.  You stared at them, then at the reddened mark where just a few moments ago, it had been practically embedded into his skin.  You swore you could see the stitches echoed into his muscular flesh.

“Aw shucks,” you heard him say, and you looked up to see him with a cheeky grin on his face.  “Will you look at that?  Looks like I hugged you a bit too strongly.  Sometimes I don't know my own strength, didn’t crush any of your ribs, did I?”

He was joking of course… but that grin he gave you….and the fact that he’d just snapped his belt like it was a piece of dried spaghetti...Wait….did he know what your plan had been all along?

You pressed your face into his chest, both attempting to feel the rapidly fading marks, and also to hide the fact your face had more blush than the entire pharmacy makeup aisle.  

Dante lowered his head, so his mouth was at your ear level, and murmured,seductively “You know, I cleaned up the bedroom, we ought to… christen it before Verg gets home…”

You had barely nodded your head before without warning, Dante lifted you up, bridal style, and carried you indoors like you weighed nothing at all.

And to be truthful, that’s how you felt.

[yankyo]

Can we please have some comfort for all that hurt? ;u;

Yes! Yes, you may!

Accident - Part 2

Warnings: Mention of abuse, blood 

   Chamie was acting weird, it wasn’t that he was trying to help, no that wasn’t it, but you could see an odd look on Beetlejuice’s face as the clone was being lectured and Chamie seemed to droop even lower as he looked at the charred remains of his attempt at cooking. And then as the mess in the kitchen was being situated, Chamie was found in the living room attempting to vacuum. It was an honest attempt and you were flattered again that he was trying to help, but you couldn’t help but grimace at the state of it. You certainly didn’t have the money to replace it this month, not when your rent was due and feeding so many new mouths left you a little strapped for cash. Speaking of, you were already running a little too late for work this morning, so even though you wanted to stay and take care of the situation, you had to rush to get ready and run out of the door yelling goodbyes as you went - Chamie wasn’t anywhere to be found and as much as you wanted to assure him that you weren’t upset and make sure he got his goodbye kiss, you resolved to make it up to him when you got home.

   Work was long and boring, a day of dealing with frustrating customers and pasting a smile on your face as you pretended to be listening to them ramble about whatever coupon they were so certain should be working and just how rude the other cashier had been to them last time - you were pretty certain it had been you, but then again, you really didn’t care. No, you were too busy thinking about Chamie’s sad face as he looked at his feet, just taking the lecture without even attempting to fight back. It hadn’t been the first time, but you hadn’t really noticed it before. No matter who it was, once someone started to yell at Chameleon, he seemed to almost shut down, his shoulders hunching and his ears drooping as he just let them take out their anger on him. The only time you had ever seen Chamie fighting back was during the little mock fights he had with the others during game night and even then, it wasn’t really shouting. Despite all the time you had spent with them, how was this the first time you really noticed this? Was there other ticks you had overlooked? Other little signs things weren’t entirely alright with the group of demons you loved so dearly? The thought made your heart ache and it was all you could do to just stay at work and not rush back home to your lovers.

   After what seemed like an eternity, you were finally off the clock and rushing back to your car with a new ball of yarn to replace the one Chamie had messed up this morning. You would sit him down and have a talk about this morning and make sure everything was alright with him, and definitely smother the cute clone with kisses and make sure he knew just how much you really appreciated him, how you appreciated all of them. Your plans for the night were optimistic, but as you pulled up to your home and stepped out of your car, you could hear shouting from the driveway. A chill went through your veins, unsure of what was happening but from the yelling, you could be certain it wasn’t anything good.

   “My books! Why would you even mess with them?”

   “We’re going to have to clean up your mess again!”

   “The kitchen is covered in bubbles, you idiot! What did you do?”

   “What is going on?” You cut in, tossing your bags to the side as you pushed through the gathering of demons to find what they were swarming around and the sight just broke your heart. Chamie was curled into a ball, his arms locked around himself and his grip on his arms so tight you could see blood beginning to stain his sleeves. His hair was a swirling mess of purple and blue with a flash of grey that made you want to cry. “Get back from him, give him some space!” The clones blinked at you, looking down to their comrade as if just realizing how bad the situation had gotten, giving you space to lean in and try to pet Chamie’s hair to get his attention. As you moved closer, the clone raised his head, his eyes glazed and sightless before fear filled them and he stuck out as if trying to fight off his aggressor. You couldn’t help the pained yelp, falling back as you instinctively grabbed the wound, blood welling up through your clenched fingers. Yellow flashed through Chamie’s hair as his eyes seemed to clear before bleeding back to blue, to purple to a dark color you had never seen any of them wear before: black. He gaped at you, looked to his own hand as if it were a separate entity entirely before he reached out for you once more, looking so sorry you thought he would burst into tears right then and there, but before he could touch you the other clones swarmed around you both. Chamie was shoved back as you were dragged into someone’s arms, more shouting and hissing at the cowering clone before Chamie bolted away, half running on all fours as he fled deeper into the house.

   The clones clamoured around you, half dragging you into the bathroom to rinse out the bleeding wound on your arm. Ren took charge of the situation, calling for Bee to get the medical kit for him as he gingerly checked out your wound, sighing in relief after a moment.

   “Thank goodness, you won’t need to get stitches.”

   “What happened today, why was everyone yelling at Chamie?” You couldn’t care less about your injury, no, you needed to know what had lead to Chamie lashing out like that. You knew he hadn’t been attacking you, but something else, something he was clearly terrified of. Chamie would never have hurt you, none of them would, you knew that. The question made Ren wince, as if ashamed of his actions now that he had calmed down but instead of answering, he instead busied himself with tending to your injury,

   “Chamie half destroyed the house,” Jazz, on the other hand, didn’t hold back. “The kitchen is filled with bubbles, he fucked with the washer and dryer, pretty sure half of your clothing is ruined, and he messed with our shit.”

   “He put up the puzzle I’ve been working on all this time.” Jay was pouting in the corner, but you could see a guilty light shining in his eyes. “But all of us jumping on him like that wasn’t right. He doesn’t do well with shouting...” the clones all fell silent, a chill going through them all that stopped you from pressing any further. It wasn’t until Ren finished wrapping your arm and Beetlejuice stepped through the group around you to inspect the job that the silence was broken.

   “I should really clean up the mess...” Ren started shepherding the others out the door, “Someone needs to go find where Chamie holed himself up in.”

   “I’ll find Chamie.” There was no room for negotiation in your tone and the clones didn’t seem surprised, though Beetlejuice didn’t move from his place in front of you.

   “When he gets like this, it won’t be easy to get through to him.” It was phrased like a warning, but Beetlejuice looked resigned, as if this were something that he had tried to fix but knew that he couldn’t. “He might lash out at you again, and next time he might not recognize you in time.”

   “I’ll be alright.” Even if he did lash out, you weren’t scared. Chamie needed someone to reach out to him with kindness, needed to know that you weren’t angry at him. “Ren, can you handle the laundry? Bee and Wasp, clean up the mess in the kitchen, Jazz, Cici, and Jay can put their things back in order how they like it.” The clones nodded and Beej stepped back finally, closing his eyes and focusing for a moment.

   “He’s holed up somewhere cramped and dark. Pretty musty.” You thought to where in the house Chamie would feel the safest and your heart sank with the answer.

   “I’ll be back.” You kissed Beej on the cheek, giving him a reassuring smile before you headed up to the attic. Your attic was tiny, more of an extra storage space than anything, but a person could fit up there if they stooped, and Chamie could definitely curl into a tight enough ball to cram himself into even the smallest space. Your fears were confirmed at the sight of a trembling black and white ball stuffed up against the wall, black and white hair swirling violently. “Chamie? Baby, it's me.” As you crawled in closer, you could hear the muffled crying grow louder in response to you. “Chamie, it’s ok, I promise.”

   “No it isn’t!” Came the responding wail, anguish clear in his tone. “I hurt you! I ruined everything! You hate me!” You could hear his bones creak in protest as he curled in tighter on himself, even his flexibility was being pushed to its limits.

   “I don’t hate you, look, I’m all patched up, you didn’t ruin anything. The mess is already being cleaned up and everything.” Instead of trying to touch him again you settled down with him. “I could never hate you.” Despite your words, he continued to cry, heart wrenching, body shaking wails that made you want to gather him up in your arms and never let go. Between his sobs, he spoke, the words almost unintelligible, but you strained to understand him,

   “Monster..... useless... ruins everything.... she was right....” The last part caught your attention,

   “Can I touch you?” You asked, the ball jolted, but he didn’t respond, so you laid a gentle hand on his back, slowly rubbing back and forth. Though he didn’t relax in the slightest, Chamie shuffled closer to you, his head almost in your lap now. “Is....” You paused, almost afraid to ask this question for fear of hurting Chamie more than he already was. “Is that what Juno told you?” His trembling worsened, but he raised his head slightly to place fully into your lap.

   “She... Juno... She didn’t really like any of us, but...” His shuddered, his eyes tightly shut. “She hated me. I... I wasn’t supposed to exist, I was wrong. Demons aren’t supposed to feel and making something like me was just another sign that Boss wasn’t what she wanted him to be. When she was angry at boss she would make him bring me out and she would...” He trailed off with another shudder, his hand reaching behind himself to touch the small of his back, a sign you had seen once before but hadn’t asked what it meant. Slowly, watching him to make sure he was ok, you reached out to tug up the edge of his shirt over his back, your heart breaking at the sight. Each clone had their own scars, Beetlejuice as well, but this was bad. There was a gnarled, nasty looking scar from countless injuries as if someone had slammed something into his back countless times over the years, and it wasn’t just in one place either.

   “Oh Chamie,” you pulled him in closer and despite his shaking, Chamie let himself be pulled into a hug that he returned after a moment. The demon clung to you tightly, laying his head on your shoulder as he continued to cry. "I'm going to kill her. I'm going to find whatever sandworm ate her, drag her pieces from its belly to out her back together, figure out how to resurrect a dead demon lady and then I'm going to throttle her to death." Murderous anger was a feeling you never thought you could feel, but ever since you had heard of Juno and what she had done to your demons, you didn't doubt that you could have ripped that bitch apart with your bare hands if she were to stand before you. "Chamie, listen, Juno is nothing more than a bitter old bitch who liked nothing more than to make other people miserable because she had nothing better to do with her life. She was wrong about Beetlejuice and she's wrong about you." He raised his head slightly, but wasn't meeting your eyes so you continued on. "You're such a good boy that cares so deeply for everyone around him, and I'm so happy to have you in my life. You knew that I was going to do laundry today and tried to get it done for me, you knew today I had to clean up and brought out the vacuum, even if you messed up a bit you still tried and I'm so proud of you for that. I'll show you how to work everything next time and you'll do an amazing job because you're so smart and attentive that it just blows my mind that you're with me." Watery eyes finally met yours, a streak of green cutting through his hair.

"Really?" He asked weakly, you couldn't help it, you cupped his cheeks and kissed him softly.

"Really." Another tear escaped him, but a small, wobbly smile curled at his lips.

"I don't think you could pull body parts out of a sandworm. That'd take a really long, really strong fishing pole."

"Hell, I'll tie a rope around my waist and dive headfirst if I gotta." He laughed now, hugging you tighter.

"No! Sandworm spit is so gross! It smells and clings to you like a jelly!" He stuck his tongue out at the thought, making a disgusted sound.

“I’ve gotta do what I gotta do to defend my baby boy.” This time he kissed you, his cheeks still wet with tears but a laugh still at his lips.

“Thank you.” He murmured. “But I prefer my babes sandworm spit free.” He pulled you into his lap now, his arms wrapped around you and his head on your shoulder, much like how he would cling to his stuffed animals at night. “Babes?” He paused, swallowing hard as he seemed to be trying to gather the words he needed. “I love you.” Your heart skipped a beat, tears gathering in your eyes now too.

“I love you too, Chamie.”

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 9 - In Which Charles, Anne, and Mary Hang Out

Charles flops down next to Anne on the sofa, right on top of the blanket she's trying to pull out of its artsy drape and into something that will actually cover her. It's pouring rain outside, which explains why Charles is home instead of out working on his tan – but it don't explain why he's bothering her.

“Fuck do you want, Charles?”

Charles ignores Anne's snarling with the ease of long familiarity. “We haven't hung out in a while.” He shrugs. “Thought it might be nice.”

Anne scoffs. “Jack kick you out, then?”

Charles laughs. “He's reading on the shitter-”

“So we'll see him sometime tomorrow, then,” Anne interrupts.

Charles grins. “I'll follow him a lot of places, but that's not one of 'em.”

Anne laughs and moves her legs so Charles can sit down without breaking her legs. And they sit in silence for a while, neither of them being all that inclined towards talking.

But eventually Anne breaks it to say, “Used to be him, following you around like a puppy. It bother you it ain't like that no more?”

Anne's blunt as always. But it's probably the reason her and Charles get along so well – neither of them one to mince words.

Charles shrugs. “This is Jack's world. Max's world. I wouldn't know the first thing about navigating it.”

But Jack's always been sharp. Been able to read people. To plot the course through troubled waters and come out the other side victorious, teeth bared and bloody from the fight.

So no, Charles doesn't mind following a man like that.

Anne nods in understanding. “It ain't a world I know much about either. But I don't mind it as much as I thought I would.”

That's a bit of an understatement, if she's being honest. She's not Charles, she hadn't lived in rat infested leaky shitholes out of some sense of strength or pride. She'd done it cuz she'd had no choice.

And now that she's got the choice of being inside, nice and dry and warm, instead of out on a corner somewhere, pushing. Well, she's willing to fight to keep it. Even if she's gotta go through every rich fuckhead in London.

Although she's looking forward to a little action, if she's being honest. They've been gathering intel on various upper-class creeps for a while now. And Anne knows that they're playing the long game, here. And that Max is more interested in blackmail and leverage than any immediate material benefit. But Anne's itching to knife someone – or at least lift a wallet or two. She wouldn't want to get rusty.

“Things have been a little slow, though, lately, ain't they?”

Charles looks consideringly at her for a long minute.

“You want to go out?”

It's not an ideal day for it, given it's pissing rain. But Charles has a list of a few lower-level bureaucrats in the Councilor's office he's allowed to intimidate. And, thanks to his own tireless efforts collecting gossip, a whole list of ways to keep them in line. Some of which don't even have anything to do with threatening their lives, which is novel.

Anne shrugs. “Beats sitting around here.”

A pause.

“Think Mary'd want to come?”

Which from Anne is as good as an admission that she wants Mary along. That she likes spending time with her and wants to do it as much as possible And that is as good a confession of sappy love-like feelings as Anne is going to make.

So Charles, as a good friend, says, “Doesn't hurt to ask. She can't be busy with Jack's social media shit all the time.”

Jack emerges from the bathroom to a silent and empty house. Which is unusual – there's enough people living there that there's always someone around, even if it's one of the housekeepers and not the people who actually live there. And Charles has a penchant for loud music with lots of pounding basslines, so it's never really quiet when he's around.

But, as Jack wanders through empty room after empty room, it's becoming apparent that he's by himself in the house for once. And if that's the case, then it doesn't hurt to indulge in a little “me time,” now does it?

Jack makes a beeline for Anne's bathroom – the one with the nicest bathtub, even though she hardly uses it. And he lights some candles and puts on some soft music and lets the tub fill with hot water and lavender scented foam. And Jack may even pour himself a glass of wine, even though it's barely past noon. But he's a man of leisure now, and surely that allows for the occasional bout of day drinking.

He relaxes into the warm bath, his head cushioned on a folded towel, closes his eyes and breathes out all the stress and anxiety and worry about succeeding that he's been holding since this whole venture started.

Eme drives them all to the posh councilor's office downtown. One of those real bullshit steel and glass monstrosities that are meant to make you feel like some kinda insignificant piece of shit out on the sidewalk. But Charles has never been one to be plagued by self-doubt.

They strut into the towering, ostentatious and austere lobby. No appointment. No credentials. Just sheer chutzpah. Mary feels a little out of place, next to Charles and Anne. But she's also really looking forward to Charles Vane and Anne Bonny putting the fear of God into some of the sick fucks she's been putting files together on.

There's one guy in particular she'd – well, she wouldn't mind too much if Anne or Charles actually killed him. Preferably gruesomely.

But Charles isn't looking so much like a killer right now as he flirts with lobby security. Or at least Mary thinks it's flirting? It's vaguely menacing but there seems to be quite a lot of sensuality going on for it to be entirely threatening. Just lots of intense eye-contact and smoldering happening.

But whatever the fuck all that was works and the handsome Spanish security guard lets them through the little turnstyle barricade and Charles saunters towards the elevators, with Anne and then Mary following.

Charles grins and he can see in the mirrored door of the elevator that it's more of a snarl. He hadn't been lying to Anne when he'd said he didn't mind Jack leading them. But it feels good to be on the hunt again, with a crew – a crew he trusts - at his back. An adversary in front of him (or behind him, at this point, though Charles can also see the way the security guard's eyes stay on him, piercing) who understands who they both are – who sees and recognizes who Charles is, just as Charles recognizes him.

And then the elevator doors open to deposit a blonde woman in a skirt suit and Charles, Anne, and Mary disappear into the heart of the building, rocketing towards the thirty-eighth floor and the man they've come to threaten. It's too late to stop them. Too late to raise the alarm. Too late to do anything about their presence but wish them happy hunting.

It's not that Jack doesn't like running the crew. He'd been gunning for that position since before Charles ran away. Not to replace Charles, you understand, but to be on equal footing with him. To be seen by him, respected by him as an equal.

And then Charles had gone away for that two-stretch and there had been something of a power vacuum. One which Jack was all too ready and able to exploit. He'd been running Charles's former crew within a month and just sort of kept on running it even after Charles got out of prison.

Because he'd done a good job of running the crew. It's not boasting, it's just fact.

But then the whole Flint versus Eleanor debacle had happened. And now there's another power vacuum to fill – an even larger one, what with one of the richest men in London's extensive crime empire and one of the best street-level bosses out of the game. And Jack would be an idiot not to exploit that fact, even without Max and Mr. Scott there to convince him into it.

But it's so different to what he's done before, to what he knows.

He agrees with Max's end goal, of course. Integrating themselves into the existing power structure so thoroughly that they can get away with all the crimes the ruling class gets away with by dint of their name or lineage or wealth. And maybe make some of those fuckers pay their due along the way.

But that doesn't make it easy, leaving behind everything he's ever known for this scam. And it's even more difficult to know if he's plotting the right course. If he's doing right by his crew, who are his responsibility now.

The books never really prepare you for the harsh realities of leadership and glory and renown. Probably because the people writing them don't actually give half a shit about the people who got them there.

Like Flint, who both reviled and needed his crew and fell short of his goals because he underestimated them.

Like Eleanor, who refused to listen to anyone about anything and it cost her everything.

Jack refuses to be like either of them. Refuses to fall the way they did. If he's going to fail, it's going to be as Jack Rackham – and no one else.

Feeling much better after his strange, reverse-psychology internal monologue, Jack gets out of the bath to dry off and perhaps luxuriate in a robe on one of his many tasteful divans. Because really, there's no point in pretending to be a rich gay drama queen if he can't have an excessive number of divans in his home.

Unfortunately, his plans are ruined by the return of Charles, Anne, and Mary, back from- wherever they were. Probably up to no good, if the rather bloodthirsty smiles they're sporting is any indication. But Charles knows better than to cross Max – and Anne wouldn't unless there was a very, very good reason. And they come bearing take away. So it's probably nothing to worry about.

Everything's going to be fine.

Probably.

[long-bodyswap]

Switch

by Dirk Steel (dirk_steel@excite.com)

I was working out at the gym like I did every Thursday night. But this night seemed a bit odd. Barely anyone else was here. Mr. Asito, the night janitor was doing his usual duties. Kathy, the desk clerk, was signing out and heading for home. Dan, Phil and Ted were talking about getting some action at the local bar as they went out the door.Of course Doug and Matt were still here. Being the personal trainers for the gym, they were always working out. Doug was an incredible specimen. He looked a lot like Marcus Reinhardt, the professional bodybuilder, but even taller. At six-foot-two he was a sight to behold. Blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, thick square chest, narrow waist, huge quads and calves. He looked just like a Nordic god. Matt, on the other hand, looked like the all-American football jock. Five-foot-ten, 220 lbs. of pure muscle. Wavy black hair, jet black eyes, bushy eyebrows, Roman nose, square jaw and high cheek bones, a chiseled six-pack, beefy forearms and 19-inch biceps. His shoulders were so well defined; he looked like he was wearing shoulder pads.It took all of my strength not to stare at Matt while I worked out. In my mind he was the "perfect" man. He just oozed masculinity. His voice was at least an octave lower than mine. Unfortunately, he made it perfectly clear to everyone that he was all man, and 100% straight. I had even hired him to help me train a few months ago, but he seemed to sense that I had more in mind than just training, and asked Doug to help me instead.Doug was a different story. 

Quiet and sensitive, I had a feeling there was more there than met the eye. There were rumors around the gym that Doug had a thing for Matt, but no one ever had enough nerve to ask Doug if it were true. Matt was always trying to set up Doug with a variety of women. But Doug never seemed to take an interest. A couple of times while changing clothes, I noticed Doug looking over Matt's body a little longer than a straight guy would. My "gaydar" was definitely going off.Doug called over to me and asked if I needed any help. I said "Sure, thanks". Matt rolled his eyes and went off to run on the treadmill. "Looks like you've been putting on some muscle, David.", Doug said. I smiled knowing that my gains had been minimal at best and that Doug was just being kind. "Yeah, I think you'll be ready for competition in no time." Now I started laughing. "Sure, I'm a 6-foot-one, 170 lb. walking Greek statue". I said with a smirk. "Don't be so hard on yourself...", Doug said, "we all can't look like Matt". "If only that were possible.", I said. "Well if it were possible, I'd have a lot better luck with Matt than I'm having now." I'm sure I must have had a shocked look on my face when I looked over at Doug. I couldn't believe he was being so open and honest. "Listen David, I know you're gay. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. I just thought it would be nice to have a gay friend I could confide in. I always have to pretend to be the straight jock when I'm working out with Matt." 

I didn't know what to say except, "Thanks." Doug continued, "I know you've got a thing for bodybuilders. I've noticed you checking Matt and me out on a number of occasions. I've always been flattered by it. I had wished that I felt the same way about you, but I have the same desire for bodybuilders that you have. I'm sure you understand where I'm coming from." "I do, Doug. I could tell just by the way you look at Matt." "Matt? That's a whole other story there. I don't know what's going on with Matt. Ya know, I'm going to take a walk around the block. I've got a lot of things to think about. If you see Matt tell him I should be back in about 20 minutes. Thanks, David. You're a real friend". Doug kissed me on the cheek and left for his walk. I felt a real attraction to Doug, but knew that nothing could ever happen between us.While I was working out on the ab crunch machine, I was watching Mr. Asito vacuuming around the various pieces of equipment. He had a big smile on his face. I wondered why he seemed so happy doing such a menial chore. Just then he turned to me and said "A job well done is a job worth doing. It gives one a feeling of pride." It was almost as if he were answering the question I was thinking about. Then I remembered hearing stories about how Mr. Asito was into mystical things like potions, spells and even magic idols. I figured it was just a joke based on Mr. Asito's age and Asian background. "It is no joke, David.", he said. "How did you..." I started to ask, but he interrupted, "There are unexplainable forces that man cannot fathom, but can be used if one learns the old teachings." I smiled back and humored him by saying "I'm sure there are." He knew I really wasn't taking him seriously, smiled, and went back to vacuuming. 

I went back to doing my crunches, understanding how all of those stories about him got started. Suddenly I heard a loud clanking sound behind me. Mr. Asito had accidentally hooked the vacuum cord around the weight tower and now it was beginning to rock back and forth. I jumped up from the ab machine and ran toward the weight tower hoping I could stop the rocking. But it was too late. The tower started falling towards him. I pushed him out of the way just as the weights fell to the ground with a loud crash."Are you ok?" "I'm fine, David. No harm done.", he said as he slowly got up off the floor. "You scared me half to death. It looked like you were right in the path of those weights." "Thank goodness you were nearby. The outcome could have been different." "I'm just glad you didn't get hurt." "Now, maybe there is something I can do for you?" With that he put his fingers from both hands around my face. I started to move backwards but felt compelled to stand still. He looked deeply in my eyes, as if he were looking right through me. I felt a chill run up my spine. "You have desires that are beyond the reality of this world.", he spoke in a trance-like state. "The one you wish to be, also wishes the same of you. Sometimes those who live their lives a certain way really long to be free of playing the role they feel they were forced to portray." His hands dropped from my face and the trance was broken. "Sometimes the impossible is possible... as you will see." Mr. Asito winked at me, turned and left the room.I stood there wondering what had just happened. It all seemed like some sort of weird dream. "You have desires that are beyond the reality of this world." How did he know about my desires? I've never shared my desires with anyone. I decided that Mr. Asito was just a kooky old man that liked putting on a show. That was a lot easier than believing all of that crazy mumbo-jumbo.I went back to my workout as if nothing had happened, all the while feeling that something strange had just taken place. After finishing my circuit training, I heading for the locker rooms. Matt walked in just as got to my locker. "What was that loud bang I heard?" "The weight tower almost crushed Mr. Asito.", I replied. "What were you doing messing with weights that heavy? You've got to be in shape to handle that kind of weight.", Matt said snidely. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks." "I didn't think guys like you were interested in getting big like me." "More than you think, Matt." Matt flexed his right arm into a bicep pose. He rubbed the peak of the bicep with his left hand, caressing it as though he was getting turned on by his own fondling. He knew how much I was enjoying the performance. I tried to act like I wasn't impressed, concentrating on the task at hand... not getting an erection. It wasn't working. I could feel my dick swelling in my pants. 

Matt saw what was happening. "What's going on down there? I think your dick is confused. It must think I'm one of those Baywatch babes. You might want to have a talk with it -- God, I don't even know why they let queers like you workout here! Shouldn't you be at some sort of bathhouse, sucking some guy's cock?", he sneered then turned away. "Ya know Matt, contrary to what most people think, most gay people don't go to bathhouses." "Whatever.", he said coldly.Matt opened up his locker. "What the hell is this?" He reached into his locker and pulled out a black ring. "What's this doing in here?" He looked over at me. "Is this from you?!" "No, Matt. Of course it's not from me." "I wonder who put this in my locker?" He looked at it closely. It appeared to be made of black onyx. It was square on top, with a recessed square in the middle. It had some foreign writing around each side. "Weird", is all Matt could muster. He decided to slip the ring on his index finger. "It fits like a glove, and looks pretty cool. I'll have to find out if Kathy bought it for me." "Kathy the desk clerk?" "Yeah, Kathy the desk clerk! Who did you think I meant?" "Nobody." I knew that Kathy wouldn't have given Matt the time of day, let alone an onyx ring. She had told me on a number of occasions how put off she was by Matt's egotistical personality. In fact, I couldn't think of any woman at the gym that seemed to like Matt.I took off my t-shirt and opened my locker. There sitting front and center was a black onyx ring, just like Matt's. I picked it up and examined it. It had the same kind of writing, but instead of a recessed square, the square was sticking out of the larger square base by about a quarter-of-an-inch. "Look what I found?", I said as I slipped it on my finger. "What the fuck?! Where did you get that?" "Same place as you. In my locker -- I guess that rules out Kathy." "Are you sure you didn't buy these as engagement rings, hoping I might come around?", Matt smiled smugly. "I don't think so, Matt."He walked over to compare the two rings. They looked identical except for the tops. "This is so strange", Matt said, "they look like the same ring. It almost looks like your ring will plug into mine." Matt was right, it looked like the post on the top of my ring would fit into the hole in Matt's ring. 

Curious, Matt reached over and snapped his ring into mine.Both rings started to glow. Matt pulled away, but the rings wouldn't come apart. The lights in the locker room started to dim. Then a cold breeze began to swirl around us. We both stared at each other with frightened looks on our faces. The rings glowed brighter and brighter. The glow started moving up our arms. A sudden jolt of electricity went through our bodies. Both Matt and I went rigid from the wave of energy passing through us. I felt like I was burning up. I could see that Matt was experiencing the same thing. Then, suddenly, the rings separated from each other. We were both beginning to sweat. Matt looked relieved and started to back up, but realized that he couldn't move his legs. I tried to lift my legs and was also unable to move from my spot. The rings started glowing brightly again and Matt doubled-over in pain. I tried to reach for Matt when I felt an extreme cramping of my stomach muscles. I grabbed my stomach, and clinched my teeth from the intense pain. I could feel something happening under my hands as a held my stomach. The muscles felt like they were getting tighter and tighter. The layer of fat that was there burned away, and muscles started forming right underneath my skin. I could actually feel a washboard stomach growing right under my hands. My abs were now hard as a rock. Finally the pain subsided. I stood up straight and immediately noticed Matt. His stomach had lost most of its definition. It was almost smooth... just like my stomach used to be. Then I looked in the mirror, just to the right of Matt, and noticed how developed my abs had become. It looked like I had been doing sit-ups for years. I reached down and slowly ran my hands across my stomach and felt every ridge and crevice. It seemed like I was having some sort of out-of-body experience.The rings started to glow again, and soon our entire bodies were glowing with energy. Matt had a strange look on his face. 

Then I noticed what was happening to him. He was starting to change. His chest was slowly caving in. It was losing its thickness. His arms were getting smaller. His lats were narrowing. His thighs were becoming less defined. His calves were shrinking. His tight waist was starting to widen and his shoulders were slowly deflating before my eyes."David, what's happening to me?!", Matt yelled in a voice that didn't sound as deep as usual. "I'm not sure, but I think I have an idea!" I saw Matt getting thinner and taller. Then I realized that not only was Matt growing, but I was starting to shrink. I felt a sudden rush of energy fill my chest. My chest was getting heavier. I could feel it becoming engorged with blood. I looked down and saw it expanding, getting wider and deeper. My nipples were growing, moving out and down to the sides. I could see muscle fibers appearing under my skin. I moved my hands over my chest and felt how thick and hard it was becoming. I touched my larger nipples and a shudder went through me, down to my crotch. Then my arms started to get heavy and they dropped to my sides. My biceps started swelling up, as if something was filling them with blood and muscle from the inside. I could feel my triceps growing, getting heavier. My forearms were becoming thicker and wider. My right arm involuntarily swung up into a bicep curl. It felt like I had a hard baseball buried under my skin. Thick veins started snaking down my biceps. More veins appeared down the inside of my forearms. 

My hands were becoming thicker, longer, more rugged looking. Fine black hair was forming on my forearms and legs. Then my arms started moving out from my sides. My lats were growing. They were filling in, getting thicker and wider. My legs started to cramp up on me. I grabbed my calves and felt them growing under my hands. In a matter of seconds they had grown to over twice their original size. My quads and hamstrings were tightening, becoming thicker and more defined. Striations appeared when I flexed my thigh. I could see all of the muscle groups separating. My glutes started burning. I reached behind me and felt that they were getting smaller, tighter and more round... it was very erotic, feeling my own sexy bubble butt forming under my hands.I looked over at Matt.

He didn't look like Matt anymore. He had lost a lot of muscle mass. He was taller and thinner. His face was less angular. His square jaw was rounder. His jet black eyes looked dark brown. He looked a lot like... me. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw that we looked almost like identical twins. We were both very well built, ruggedly handsome looking men. Just then a funny thought had crossed my mind. I imagined that if it were possible for Matt and I to conceive a child, he would have grown up to look exactly like we did at that moment. But then ten or fifteen seconds had passed and I actually started to look more like Matt than he did. Matt realized what was happening. 

"You're becoming me! Why is this happening?!" "I don't know Matt...", I said in a voice that sounded more like his than mine, "just hold on if you can, I think it's almost over." Matt tried to pull his ring off, but it wouldn't budge. Matt continued to grow thinner and taller. His face was slowly changing into mine. His eyes changed into a lighter brown. His hair went from dark brown to sandy blonde, curly to straight. His high cheekbones moved down his face, and became less angular. I saw the anchor tattoo on his right shoulder slowly fade away then reappear on my shoulder. Then I saw my old appendix scar gradually appeared on his body. I glanced down at my stomach and saw that it was gone.I continued to get bigger and more muscular. I felt my rib cage growing and stretching, making more room for my expanding chest. I could hear my bones shifting, cracking, repositioning themselves. 

With every breath I took, I could feel my frame growing wider and thicker. I looked in the mirror and saw my lats expanding, pushing my arms further out to the sides. I watched as my shoulders inflated. I could feel the muscle fibers forming under my skin. They began to look like melons attached to my thick, massive arms. My waist continued to tighten. I looked down and saw my abs were even more defined than before. My legs were becoming so muscular they started to rip my cut-offs at the seams. I could feel my face contorting, my features changing. My teeth were moving in my mouth, shifting position. They were being remade, becoming straighter, more aligned. My jaw was getting wider, more square. As I looked in the mirror, a cleft slowly appeared in my chin. My nose was narrowing. My eyes were getting darker. My eyebrows had become thick and black. My brow was thickening and protruding over my eyes, giving me a masculine "neanderthal" look. My skin tone was darkening. I couldn't believe what I saw when I looked in the mirror. My face now looked like a G.Q. model... it looked just like Matt. 

In just a matter of minutes I had become the man I had always fantasized about. I smiled and saw Matt's perfect pearly white teeth smiling back at me in the mirror. I caressed my face with my lumberjack-sized hands. I felt my high cheekbones, my Roman nose, my sexy 5-o'clock shadow. My dick was stirring in my shorts. I looked over at my big, round shoulder and saw Matt's anchor tattoo. I slowly rubbed it with my hand and felt the thick, hard muscles underneath it. Normally, I didn't care for tattoos, but on his well-defined arm it looked really sexy and masculine.The ring's glow and the cold breeze slowly faded away. Matt and I just stood there for a couple of minutes staring at each other. Both of us were drenched in sweat. Matt was standing 3 feet from me in my body. It looked so strange seeing my slender body in his clothes. 

His big muscle tank top was draped over my tall, narrow frame. Then I saw my reflection in the mirror. It was so incredible I couldn't stop staring at myself. I was looking at myself through Matt's dark, sexy eyes. When I blinked, Matt's reflection blinked. When I raised my thick black eyebrows, my reflection did the same. When I smiled, I saw Matt's gorgeous smile looking back at me. I still felt like this was some sort of incredible dream. Finally, I took my gaze away from the mirror and slowly looked down at my new body. It was the body of a Greek god. But instead being carved out of white marble, it was made of muscle and bone. Every body part in perfect proportion, all covered in a paper-thin layer of bronzed colored skin. My tanned, chiseled chest was sticking out from me like a slab of granite, moving in and out with every deep breath I took. My ripped abs were carved into my lean torso. I put my hands behind my head; then I blew as much air out as possible while tightening my stomach. I saw my abs form a perfect chiseled 6-pack that any man would have been envious of. I looked past my ripped abs, and saw that my quads had become as thick as tree trunks, each muscle group was clearly defined and separated. 

My skin looked like it had been painted on. There wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on my body. My calves had grown to three times their previous size. I flexed my right calve and saw it separate into two distinct muscle groups. Each a perfectly formed diamond shape. I looked back up at the mirror and swung my right arm into a bicep curl and felt it with my other hand. I could feel the pumping blood coursing through my veins, filling the 19-inches of muscle. My bicep felt as hard as steel. It was surreal. I bounced my pecs up and down, feeling the weight of my newly formed chest. I did a lat spread for the first time. I could feel the thick muscles stretching out from my torso, my arms moving away from my sides, my shoulders rising in the air. These were things only a bodybuilder could do. Only then did I realize that I now possessed the body of an incredible athlete. As much as I disliked Matt, I had to give him credit for sculpting his body into such an amazing piece of art. I did a double-bicep pose and let out a loud, deep yell. "I can't believe this is happening to me!!!" Matt jumped back, intimidated at the sight of my new found strength. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, Matt." "Thanks David, considering that's my body you've got there, I would appreciate that." "Since I do have your body, I might as well have your clothes too." With that, I pulled the muscle tank top off of Matt and slipped it on my chiseled form. Matt was shocked that I would be so forward. I slipped on the tank top over my sweaty body. It fit like a second skin. It clung to each section of my 6-pack, my thick chest, and my v-shaped torso. I walked over to Matt's locker and pulled out a pair of Speedo posing trunks. "I don't think you'll be needing these for a while, so I thought I might borrow a pair." Normally, Matt would have beat the crap out of anyone taking stuff out of his locker, but he knew he was in no position to argue with me. I quickly slipped off my tattered shorts and briefs. 

Matt noticed my hard-on, and was embarrassed to find himself getting aroused. I looked over and saw him trying to hide his erection. "Gee, you might want to go find one of those bath houses I've heard so much about." Matt's looked embarrassed, and his face turned bright red. I slid the Speedos over my muscular legs, slowing moving them over my throbbing hard-on. They were small and tight, conforming to every curve of my "package". They definitely didn't leave anything to the imagination. I could clearly see the head of my penis through the stretched, elastic material. My tight balls hanging underneath, each clearly defined. I walked over to the mirror, and was in awe. I had always fantasized about being a bodybuider, wearing a pair of sexy Speedos, and putting on a show in front of a mirror. The thought that this had become a reality was an incredible turn on. I was on the verge of cumming."Matt, your body is so amazing, I can't believe what kind of shape it's in!" "Thanks... I worked a long time to get it in shape, so what ever you do, don't damage it." "Well Matt, the body you're inhabiting isn't exactly chopped liver. For starters, you're over 3-inches taller than you were before, you're in pretty good shape, and now you are the owner of a very large piece of meat." Matt unzipped his shorts to find a soft 9-inch dick. "Whoa! You're fuckin' huge." "Thanks, Matt. I thought you might find it enjoyable." "My dick is only about 5-inches... sorry about that.", Matt said. "No problem. Size has never been that important to me." "Really. Well, if you had a small dick like mine, it would be. I've always wanted to have a huge piece of meat like this to play with." Matt smiled and started jerking himself off. 

While he was enjoying his new best friend, I started posing in front of the mirror, just like I had seen hundreds of times in all of those bodybuilder videos that I owned. I did a side chest, then an ab crunch, single bicep, double bicep, then a most muscular pose. Feeling the blood coursing through my pumped up arms, chest and legs was an incredible rush. My 5-inch dick was now hard as a rock, pulsing with the rapid beat of my heart. I took off my Speedo and grabbed my pre-cum soaked rod and started pumping. A few minutes later we both came, and shot our loads across the locker room floor. We had just wiped ourselves off with a couple of towels, when Mr. Asito walked in."So David, still don't believe in those unexplainable forces?" He was staring at me in Matt's body. "I do now, Mr. Asito." I showed him a double bicep pose. He smiled. "You did this to me?!", Matt chimed in. "You did it to yourself, Matt.", Mr. Asito answered back. "What are you talking about, it was the rings you gave us that did this to us." "That's only partially true. The rings allow the transference to take place, but they will only work if both parties wish for it to happen." "You mean I wanted to change bodies with David?" "In a matter of speaking, yes." "Why would I want to change places with that gay guy?" "Why indeed?" Mr. Asito started to leave the room. "You can't just leave me like this! Come back here!" 

Mr. Asito turned around, "Matt, no matter what happens, you and David will always be connected by the rings. David wears the dominant ring, which controls the passive ring, which you wear. This will make you a willing participant to any future transference he desires. You will have no say in the matter. But right now you have a much more important task you must reach deep within your soul and find the truth with which you are afraid to face. Until this happens, you will not be the man you long to be." "What do you mean, the truth with which I'm afraid to face? I'm not afraid of anything. I don't understand." "You will Matt." Mr. Asito left the room."I don't believe this is happening" "I know Matt this is pretty unreal. Let's just try to make the best of this. Let's get dressed and figure out what we're going to do." "The best of this?! My muscles are hijacked without my permission, and now I'm stuck in this body until I face some sort of truth within my soul. No, let's not make the best of this!" I felt a sudden surge of anger flow through me. 

I grabbed Matt under his arms, lifted him up and slammed him up against the lockers. "You ARE going to make the best of this, understand!", I roared at him in his deep voice. I could see the fear in Matt's eyes. Then I remembered that Matt was in my body, and that I had Matt's powerful muscles that could do real damage. I slowly put Matt back down on the floor. Matt moved back a couple of feet, afraid of what I might do next. "I'm sorry Matt, I don't know what came over me. I've never felt like that before. It was strange, the feeling of power that went through me. Are you ok?" "Yes, I'm fine. We wouldn't want to damage these goods, would we David." "No we wouldn't, Matt." We both smiled and got dressed.Doug walked in right after we closed our lockers. "Hey Matt, did David tell you I went for a walk?" Matt, in my body, was about to answer, but I cut him off, "Yes, he told me. No problem Doug." "What have you guys been up to?" "More than you can imagine. I feel like I've made quite a few gains.", I answered. "In 20 minutes? What kind of gains could you have possibly made in 20 minutes?" "A lot more than I expected." I smiled at Doug. 

He was taken aback. I think he saw something in my smile that Matt had never shown him. Matt looked over at me with a smirk, wondering what was going on. "Doug... David and I were going to go back to his place to talk about some methods of putting on muscle mass. Do you mind if we get together later tonight?" Concerned, Doug said "Matt, you're not going to do anything bad to David are you?" "No, trust me, I'm not going to hurt David in any way. Isn't that right David?" "Yeah, don't worry Doug, Matt's not going to hurt this body. Besides, I'm really interested in learning how to gain muscle mass fast." "Ok, as long as nothing bad happens to David, then it's cool." "So, I'll give you a call in a couple of hours Doug" I said with the biggest, sexiest smile I could muster. Doug looked pleasantly surprised and smiled back. Matt and I headed out the door. Matt was wondering what I was up to. He was suspicious that I would actually give him back his body, and that would be the end of it. He was right, of course. I had other more interesting plans in mind.

Switch - Part 2

 I took Matt's keys out of his pocket and headed for his Corvette. Matt protested, "Hey, you're not going to drive my Corvette are you?" "While I've got this body, I guess this is my car, right?" "Fine, drive my car." "Besides, I thought we'd go back to my place and switch bodies back. Unless there's something else you'd rather do?" "No. Let's get rolling!" Matt hopped in the passenger's seat and closed the door. As we were heading for my apartment I could tell that Matt was really anxious to get there. "Matt, having my body hasn't been THAT terrible an experience has it?" "Well, to be honest, I have enjoyed being taller and having your huge dick, and actually you're not in that bad of shape." 

"That's what I thought. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to be someone else?" "Sure. I guess so.", Matt pondered, "Sometimes I wish I didn't have to act like the 'tough jock' all of the time." "Isn't it tiring putting on a front like that?" "Yeah. I get sick of it. I'm so busy living up to that image, I don't even know who I am anymore." "I think that's what Mr. Asito was talking about." Matt sat there quietly, thinking about what we had talked about. I could tell he was having a hard time dealing with his bottled up feeling. Finally we arrived at my apartment.After we stepped inside, I locked the door. "So David, are you really going to give me back my body?" "Yes, Matt. I plan to give you back your body." "Plan to? What do you mean 'Plan to'?" "Well, I do have a few conditions." "What kind of conditions, I'm afraid to ask." 

"I'm going to have access to your body whenever want. If I feel like having a workout in your body, we'll switch. If I feel like taking a shower in your skin, we'll switch. If I want to show off your body at the beach, we'll switch." "You can't be serious?" "I'm totally serious, Matt. But, if you'd rather I keep this hot bod permanently, no problem." "No, it's just that... you mean whenever you want to borrow my body, I have to let you?" "That about sums it up. If you want to have your body back you'll have to be available to swap whenever I want." Matt knew he didn't have any other options but to say yes. "Sure David, whatever you say." "I think you made the right decision Matt. But before we make the switch, I thought we could have some fun first." "What kind of fun?" "First I want you to put on the smallest clothes I've got in my dresser. Then were going to get my weight set and a bottle of baby oil and bring them back into the living room." "What are we going to do with weights and baby oil?" "Well Matt, I figured that you'd be so grateful to get back in your body that you wouldn't mind putting on a very special Chippendales show for me." Matt thought about it and figured if it meant getting his body back he'd do anything. "Yeah. Sure. I'll be glad to put on a show for you." I was surprised that he agreed so quickly, but I figured all he cared about was getting back his body. I told him where the baby oil was, and I went to my bedroom and picked up my 50 lb. weights, which now felt like they weighed about 10 lbs. and brought them into the living room.Matt walked in with the baby oil. 

He was wearing one of my old Apple t-shirts that was about two sizes too small. He had also put on my skin-tight aqua swim trunks. I was busy pumping up my biceps with my dumbbells. "You're looking good Matt. It looks like you're about to burst out of those clothes." I smiled at him. "Really cute, David. Can we just get this over with?" I began to rub baby oil on my arms and chest. "I thought I'd give myself one final thrill. This feels so good. I don't know how you were able to control yourself with this body. I've got a permanent hard on." I could see that my oil rub down was turning him on. He was trying to hide his erection with his hands. "Matt, what's going on? I thought you didn't get off on guys?" "I don't! It must be this fag body I'm stuck in! It's giving me gay thoughts." "Wait a minute, Matt. If that were true, I would suddenly have the hots for Pamela Lee Anderson. That hasn't happened." Matt was really getting flustered. "I don't know what's going on. Your 9-inch dick has got a mind of it own, ok!" "Alright Matt, if you don't want to deal with your feelings right now, we don't have to. Come on, let's get us back in our own bodies." Matt was almost in tears, "Thank you, David."We moved into the center of the room. We both tried to prepare ourselves for the electric shock from the rings. We both took a deep breath and snapped the rings together. Nothing happened. We pulled the rings apart and snapped them together again. Still, nothing. "What's wrong? Why isn't it working?", Matt said. "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with what Mr. Asito had said." Matt was confused, "What are you talking about?" "Mr. Asito said that I have the dominant ring, and that I have the power to switch bodies whenever I want to." 

"So, don't you want to switch bodies?" "Sure I do. But maybe I have to do more than just put the rings together. Maybe I have to concentrate on wanting the transference to take place?" "Well, it's worth a try." Matt and I put the rings together and I focused all of my thoughts on switching bodies with him. Suddenly the rings began to glow. A cool breeze swirled around us. Our bodies became engulfed in a glowing energy. It wasn't as intense as it was the first time. It was if our bodies were getting use to the transformation. I felt like I was getting weaker, less heavy. I looked over at Matt and saw him starting to change. I could see his chest starting to expand under his t-shirt. His arms and legs were getting thicker, more muscular. I watched as his waist became narrower. I could see his ripped abs forming underneath the t-shirt. I could feel myself beginning to deflate. I looked down and saw my massive chest moving up my torso, losing its thickness. My legs were becoming less defined. My 19-inch biceps were shrinking before my eyes. I looked over at Matt and saw he had a huge erection in his shorts, and a big smile on his face. 

Matt's arms were swelling; straining on the skin-tight t-shirt I made him wear. I could see his rib cage expanding, his thickening chest straining against the fabric. It looked like something out of an Incredible Hulk episode. It was very erotic. I slid my Speedo down my legs and grabbed my throbbing dick. I could feel it growing longer and thicker in my hand. I began to grow taller and thinner. Matt was moaning from the pressure building inside his tight clothes. His sleeves started coming apart at the seams. His biceps poured out of the shredded sleeves. His collar was stretching to the breaking point. It ripped straight down the middle, quickly moving down his expanding chest. His shorts burst apart, exposing his enormous thighs. Matt face was changing from my face back to his. His features were becoming more masculine, more angular. I could feel my face changing back into its original form. A couple of minutes later our transformation had ended. The energy glow around our bodies disappeared and the cool breeze gradually died down. We both stood facing each other, drenched in sweat. Matt looked like a Greek statue draped in tattered rags. I couldn't contain myself anymore. I climaxed and shot my wad across the room. I could see that Matt had also cum in his shorts. It felt really strange being back in my body. I was 50 pounds lighter. I felt a lot weaker, like I was more vulnerable not having Matt's muscles.Matt pulled off his shredded t-shirt and swung his arms up into a double bicep pose. "Yes! I'm me again! Fantastic!" He just oozed masculinity and power, even more than I did when I possessed his body. Standing there in his tattered shorts, in that muscular pose, he looked like a comic book superhero. I turned around to grab the bottle of baby oil. "What do you think your doing, David!", Matt bellowed. 

"Remember our deal? The Chippendales show?" "There isn't going to be any Chippendales show." "What are you talking about, Matt?" "It's over. You aren't going to be borrowing my body for taking showers, for working out or anything else for that matter." "What do you mean by that?" "Here's exactly what I mean!" Matt suddenly punched me in the stomach. I had the wind knocked out of me, and collapsed to the floor writhing in pain. I was on my knees, holding my stomach, trying to catch my breath. Matt grabbed me by the hair and jerked my head up to face him. "I'm going to make sure you never get close enough to me to put these rings together." He picked me up and slammed me against the wall. He had me pinned with his left arm, two feet off the floor. "If you think I'm going to willingly trade bodies with you so I'll have to go around as a scrawny little gay guy, you've got another thing coming. Now that I've got my body back I'm not going to give it up!" I had never seen Matt so angry. His jet black eyes looked cold and distant. I wasn't sure what he was capable of doing to me. I knew that if I didn't want to get really hurt by him, I would have to try to switch bodies again. If I tried and failed, I knew Matt would beat the crap out of me. 

I wasn't sure if the transference could work without connecting the rings first. But I figured I had better take a chance, not knowing what Matt was going to do to me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my ring and Matt's body. Matt looked at me and wondered why I had my eyes closed. "What the hell are you doing?! Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" I opened my eyes, but didn't answer. I kept focusing on my ring. "...well, you'd be right. I am going to hurt you. Just enough to teach you a lesson, so you'll stay away from me and this ring." Matt pulled back his fist and was about to hit me in the face. All of a sudden Matt froze in his place. He had a confused look on his face. He didn't know why he had stopped in his tracks. Slowly, Matt let me slide back down to the floor. He almost looked like he was in a trance. I looked down and saw my ring was glowing. Matt noticed I was looking down at my hand. "Oh no, the ring! It can't be!" "It looks like I won't be getting that broken nose after all." Matt was staring at the ring with a worried look on his face. "We'll see about that." 

Matt was fighting against the force emanating from the ring. He was trying with all his might to break the hold the ring had over him. "You're not going to do this to me again!", he moaned. I stared at my ring and spoke aloud, "I want to switch bodies with Matt." The ring began to glow even brighter. Matt screamed in pain, "Noooo!" His ring began to glow too. "Matt, stop fighting the ring, it's hurting you!", I yelled. Slowly he started to loosen his tight fist. "...I won't let you do this!" His arm gradually moved down to his side. "...make it stop!" I felt the force of my ring pull my arm into the air. Reluctantly, Matt did the same. "...can't let this happen!" Matt's arm was shaking, trying to fight the powerful forces at work. I stared at his ring and said, "I want Matt's body!" His ring began to glow even brighter. The rings moved towards each other as if a magnetic force was attracting them. "...please David! Ahhhhh!", Matt cried. But it was too late. The rings joined once again. 

This time the light emanating from the rings was blinding. A huge jolt of electricity ran through our bodies. I went rigid and clenched my teeth from the pain. Finally the shock wave subsided. I could feel a huge surge of power building up in my body. All of my muscle fibers were burning inside my body. Sweat started pouring down my face and chest. Suddenly, as if all of the stored energy was released at once, I began to transform into Matt at an accelerated speed. My chest burst outward and downward, ribcage expanding, biceps and triceps swelling, forearms thickening, shoulders getting bigger and rounder, waist narrowing, abs tightening, legs and calves inflating, lats becoming wider, back growing denser and more defined. My face morphed into Matt's in a matter of seconds. I could hear Matt yelling in pain, trying to resist the transformation. His screams quickly raised an octave as he unwillingly changed back into my body. I had gained 50 pounds of muscle in less than a minute. The surge of strength was incredible. The rings stopped glowing and separated from each other. I looked down at my bronzed body and saw the sweat trickle over my thick, hard chest and ripped abs. 

I was in Matt's skin again. I felt my etched stomach with Matt's manly hands. This time it felt like I belonged in Matt's body. I looked over at Matt. He looked weak and tired. He was breathing deeply, exhausted from the failed battle with the rings.I wondered to myself if the rings would have the power to make Matt more submissive and make myself more aggressive. I focused on my ring, thinking how much I wanted to be more aggressive like Matt. Both of our rings began to pulse with energy. I saw an arc of light go from my ring to his. I felt a rush of adrenaline flowing through my body. Matt held his head as if he were dizzy. The rings glow gradually faded out. "Are you ok, Matt?" "Yeah, I think so." "Good. I wanted to make sure you were well enough to start your new job." "New job?" I smiled at him with his pearly white teeth, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. You're going to be my very own personal muscle slave." "Muscle slave?" "That's right. As punishment for your very bad behavior, I've decided that you need to learn what it's like to take orders from a real man." "I am not going to be your muscle slave, David. Forget it." 

Without thinking, I reached over and grabbed Matt by the throat and easily lifted him into the air. Matt started gasping. "What was that you were saying?" Matt started choking. He grabbed my arm trying to loosen my grip. "What's the matter, Matt? I can't quite hear you." I loosened my grip slightly. Matt stopped pulling at my arm, knowing that it was a waste of time. Still gasping he managed to say, "Ok -- I'll be -- your muscle -- slave." I let him drop to the floor. He collapsed to the floor in a crumpled pile. I didn't even care that it was my old body lying there. "What are you waiting for slave?! Get up and grab the baby oil over there!", I demanded. Slowly Matt got off the floor and walked over to the baby oil sitting on the table. I picked up the dumbbells on the floor and started doing bicep curls. My arms quickly pumped up and became rock hard. "Rub oil on my massive biceps, slave!", I demanded. Matt obeyed my command without hesitation. He poured the baby oil in his right hand and started rubbing the oil over my 19-inch guns. "That feels good slave. Now rub some oil over my chiseled chest." "Come on David.", Matt pleaded. "Quiet slave!", I shouted; and pushed him down to the floor. "You will call me Master when you are worshiping me." Matt could tell I was serious in my demand and slowly picked himself off the floor. "Yes, Master", he said softly, not wanting to anger me further. 

He began to rub oil over my thick, hard chest. I expanded my rib cage and heaved my chest out under his hands. "Doesn't that feel good, Slave?" He put his hand to his head as if he had a fever. I could tell the rings were beginning to have an effect. "Yes... yes Master it feels very good." "Excellent Slave. Now slide your hands down to my sexy abs." I blew some air out and tightened my abs into a hard 6-pack. Matt rubbed oil across them, feeling each recessed groove with his fingers. My display of power was turning him on. He felt aroused giving pleasure to what was once his own body. I could see he was getting an erection. "Ok, Slave. Oil up my quads and glutes." Matt started to slide his hands down to my legs. I grabbed his hands in a vice grip. Matt winced from the pain. "Slave? What do you say?" Matt was rubbing his hard-on. "Please Master, may I apply oil to your massive legs?" I let go of his crushed hands. "How do I know you really want to feel my muscles, Slave?" Matt unzipped his shorts, exposing his pulsing 9-inch cock.I was feeling more masculine, as if I had been injected with huge dose of testosterone. This must be what it's like to completely become Matt. His body and mind surging with aggression, power and masculinity. I knew that the rings had granted my request. I thought I would test the rings power further. 

I grabbed Matt's hand and snapped the rings back together. "Hey, what are you doing?!", Matt protested. "I'm just trying something out. Be patient, Slave." I concentrated and spoke aloud, "I want to be 5-inches taller and gain 50-pounds of muscle." "No David, please don't!" The rings began to glow again. "David, I'm sorry I tried to hurt you. I swear! Please make it stop!" The glow gradually surrounded our bodies. I watched as Matt slowly began to shrink. Matt had a frightened look on his face as he shrunk from 6-foot-1 down to 5-foot-8. His muscle tone started to disappear. His arms and legs were losing most of their mass. His shoulders were narrowing. He looked just like a small teenager. He must have weighed about 120 lbs. Suddenly, I felt a surge of power coursing through my body. "It's working... I'm getting taller.", I said in a deeper voice. My body kept stretching taller, until I reached a height of 6-foot-3. I felt my muscles starting to burn. My biceps began to swell with new muscle. I watched as my 19-inch biceps grew to 23-inches in a matter of seconds. I looked down and saw my chest expanding, getting thicker, wider, heavier. My arms were moving further from my body as my lats started to widen. My waist was actually narrowing, giving me a more defined v-shape. 

My quads grew 3-inches larger and my calves ballooned out a couple more inches. Each muscle group was even harder and more sculpted than before, if that were possible. The rings glow subsided. I felt like a god standing in front of Matt. I was 7-inches taller and a 150 lbs. heavier than him. At 6-foot 3-inch with 270 lbs. of solid muscle, I towered over him. The sight of a smaller, weaker Matt cowering below me was a huge turn on. I felt incredible power, knowing that I could completely dominate him. I tightened my chiseled legs and swung my arms up into a double-bicep pose. "You will worship this body now!", I said in a deep, thunderous bass. I threw the bottle of baby oil at Matt. The force almost knocked him over. "Get to work Slave!", I bellowed at him. He was shaking from fear, but obediently followed my orders. He began to apply the oil to my massive new body. "Here weakling, let me help you reach my chest." I grabbed Matt by the waist and picked him up like he were a rag doll. He rubbed oil on my thick chest and broad shoulders. I tilted Matt sideways and grabbed his side and one of his scrawny legs. I began to raise him overhead as if he were a dumbbell. He was so light I could have lifted him dozens of times without breaking a sweat. "Put me down, David! This isn't funny." I raised him towards the ceiling about 10 times and finally put him back on the floor. Matt was so frustrated he lashed out at me. With all his strength he slugged me in the stomach. I barely felt a thing. Matt grabbed his own hand. 

"Damn. Your abs are hard as steel! I think I broke my wrist." "I guess things have changed since the last time you punched me in the stomach." Matt looked embarrassed and worried. "In fact, maybe I should return the favor and see if you can take a blow to the stomach." "Please don't hit me David. If you punch me using that arm you'll probably kill me!" I thought I'd scare him a little bit. "Well, I guess there's only one way to find out." I pulled my arm back, as if I was going to follow through with my threat. Matt collapsed to the floor, covering his head with his thin, boney arms. He started crying, begging me not to hurt him.We both heard someone honking their car's horn out front. Then I remembered that my best friend Brian was stopping by. He was suppose to wait for me, and I would come downstairs. "I can't let Brian see us like this. We better switch back." I pulled Matt up off the floor. He looked relieved. "If you misbehave again I'll leave us like this permanently. Understand, Slave?" "Yes, Master." The horn blared again, then we heard a car door slam. I connected both rings. Then I spoke aloud, "I want to become Matt again." They began to glow again. The doorbell rang. It was Brian. "David are you in there?" Our transformation was just beginning. I whispered to Matt, "Tell him you'll be there in a minute." Matt yelled, "Just a minute." "Is that you David? You sound funny." Matt's voice was a higher pitch than normal. Matt started growing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Hold on a sec." I could feel myself shrinking. We were now almost at the same height. "David, what's going on in there?" "Ummm, I'll be there shortly..." The transformation was almost over. Brian started knocking on the door. 

"Come on David, let me in! Quit joking around!" The metamorphosis finally completed. The rings separated from each other. We were back the way we were before I had started my experiment.I unlocked the door and swung it open. "Hi Bry, come on in!" Brian was shocked to see Matt answer the door. He was even more surprised to see Matt covered in baby oil, wearing nothing but a Speedo. He took two steps back. "Matt what -? what are you ?- doing here?", Brian said nervously. I thought it might be fun to give Bry a thrill. "Step inside Brian, David and I were just having a muscle worship session." I grabbed Brian's arm and pulled him into the room. Brian saw what appeared to be David, standing in the middle of the living room with baby oil on his hands and his shorts pulled down. "David, what's going on here? What is Matt doing here? I thought Matt hated you? I don't understand." Matt wasn't sure what to say. He knew my friend wouldn't believe that he was actually Matt in David's body. "Go ahead David, answer him.", I ordered Matt. "Like Matt said, were having a muscle worship session." Brian looked really confused. "Hey Brian, David and I have worked out our differences. We're a lot closer than you think. You might even say I know David inside and out." I gave Brian a big smile, trying to reassure him. "I don't get it. The last time I talked to David he said that you had called him 'a big faggot'. Now you're the best of friends? What gives?" "Well, whatever problems David and I had in the past are ancient history. Trust me. You're looking at a brand new Matt." Brian looked skeptical. I closed the front door. Brian started to look concerned. "David, hand me the baby oil and go sit down over there." "Yes, Master." Matt obediently handed me the baby oil and sat in the chair in the corner of the room. I turned to Brian. "David told me the other day that you and him had some kind of a secret fantasy involving me." 

Brian was shocked and embarrassed. He turned to Matt, "David, I can't believe you told him that secret!" I tried to pacify Brian, "Please don't blame David. We've shared a lot of our private thoughts and fantasies with each other. That's what friends do." "Well, I guess I understand. But it still makes me really uncomfortable to have you standing here, knowing that." "No problem, don't worry about it. In fact, I'm here to make your fantasy become a reality." Brian's interest had grown a bit. "What do you mean 'make my fantasy a reality'?" "I think you know what I mean, Brian." I winked at him. Then I poured some baby oil in my right hand. Brian was staring in disbelief. I rubbed the oil over my chiseled chest, slowly moving my hand in a circular motion over each pec and around each nipple. Gradually I moved both of my hands down to my 6-pack. I arched my back as I rubbed the oil over my abs, then back up to my chest. I could see Brian was getting turned on. I gently grabbed Brian's hands and placed them on my muscular chest. "Is this part of your fantasy, Brian?" "Oh god yeah, Matt!" He had a major hard-on. I moved his hands down to my ripped abs. I knew Brian had always wanted to do that. We both had fantasized about having our way with Matt. Now I was making that dream come true for both of us. "Oh Matt, your body is so hot. I can't believe you're letting me do this to you!" "It's my pleasure Brian. I'm enjoying this too. How about rubbing some oil on my pumped up biceps?" I thrust my arms up into a double-bicep pose, flared out my lats, and tightened my abs and quads. Brian had to control himself from cumming in his shorts. "Matt, you're a fucking Greek god. I want to feel every inch of your body." He reached up and grabbed my solid 19-inch arms. "This is unbelievable! Your arms are made of stone." 

Then he moved his hands over my lats, and down to my quads. "Oh god! You feel so fucking good! Every part of you is hard as a rock!" Brian couldn't control himself any more and finally came. He shot his full load in his shorts. "OH GOD! ? That was the greatest orgasm I've ever had!" "Well I think I'm going to need a little help in that department myself, Bry." I slid down my Speedo over my muscled quads and held out my hard cock to him. Brian gladly knelt down and put his mouth over my throbbing meat. I was surprised what a good job he was doing. He knew exactly how to bring pleasure to this body. He put his lips on the head of my penis and tenderly moved his tongue around the outside of it. I could feel my balls tightening from the intense pleasure he was bringing me. He had his hands on my quads and slowly moved them up to my glutes, squeezing them tightly. His hands felt so good on my tight glutes. He started to pump his head up and down on my cock, taking in all 5-inches into his mouth and down his throat. I couldn't contain myself any longer and shot my load. Brian swallowed every drop with a big smile on his face. I knew that giving Matt a blow job was another one of Brian's fantasies. I looked over at Matt in the corner. He had been masturbating in the chair and had just climaxed too."Now that we all got are 'rocks' off. I think it's time we let Brian in on our little secret." Puzzled, Brian said "What are you talking about Matt? What little secret?" 

I turned to Matt in my body, "Go ahead and tell him Slave." "Yes, Master. I'm Matt in David's body and David is in my body.", he said matter-of-factly. Brian looked at him in total disbelief. "What the fuck are you talking about David!?" I spoke up, "That's not David over there, Brian. I'm David here in Matt's body." "What kind of shit are trying to pull on me!? I suck your dick and get you off, then you unload this pile of crap on me! I don't think this is a bit funny." Brian started heading for the door. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards me. "Don't hurt me Matt! I'll believe whatever you want, just don't hurt me!", Brian pleaded. "I'm not going to hurt you Bry. It's me, David, in this body. I would never hurt you, babe." "Stop saying that! Why are you trying to convince me that you're David? I don't care who you are. I just want to get out of here!" Brian was trying to pull away from me. "Listen Bry. Remember the time we hid in the locker room at the gym and snuck into the special shower stall? Then we both jacked off peaking through the hole in the wall while we watched Matt lathering up his body?" Brian stopped pulling away from me. "That doesn't mean anything. You could have forced David to tell you that story." Matt got up from his chair; "You guys were getting off watching me in the shower? I knew there was something up with that hole!" "David, you weren't being watched, we were the ones watching Matt! What's wrong with you?" Brian said flustered. "I told you, you fuckin' faggot, I'm Matt!" Brian was shocked that David would talk to him in that tone. "Matt, you apologize to Brian, now!" "Yes, Master. I'm sorry I said that to you Brian." "Man, this is just too weird! I don't know what to think anymore." Brian was really confused and upset. I pleaded with Brian, "Bry, do you honestly think that Matt would be willing to come over to my... uh David's apartment and take off his clothes and let you rub oil on his body, then help him get off? Do you honestly think homophobic Matt would do something like that?" Brian thought about it for a minute. "Well, no. But it's easier to believe that, than to fall for your crock-o-shit story about switching bodies!" "Bry, I don't know what else I can say -? wait a minute, I think I have an idea. Come over here, Matt. We're going to put on a show for Brian." Matt did as he was told. "Bry, you stand over there." "Now what are you going to do Matt? Switch bodied with David again?" he said jokingly. 

"Something like that. Just stand back and watch." I concentrated on the rings, thinking how I wanted Matt and I to have the same size body. The rings started to glow. Matt was looking forward to the transference and willingly put the rings together. A cool breeze started swirling around us. The light in the room began to dim. Brian looked scared. "Don't worry Bry, it's going to be ok." I shouted. The rings were glowing brighter. The energy slowly enveloped our bodies. Matt and I began to change. Brian watched as he saw his friend David's body start to swell up. He looked over at me. I had become a lot less muscular in a matter of seconds. I started growing taller and thinner. Matt was shrinking and gaining muscle. Brian couldn't believe his eyes. The breeze died down and the rings stopped glowing and came apart. We stood there facing each other. It looked like we were staring into a mirror. We had exactly the same body. We each sported a 7-inch hard-on and 16-inch biceps. My chest didn't stick out as far as before, and my 6-pack wasn't as defined as it had been. 

But we both looked like those men you'd see in the International Male catalog. We each had a faded out tattoo on our shoulder, and a partial appendix scar on our stomach. Matt was checking out his improved physique. Brian came over to me and put his hands on my face. "David it really is you! Part of you looks like Matt, and part of you looks like -- you! It's amazing!" "Bry, I'm glad I finally convinced you that I'm really David inside here." "What I don't get is that you let me grope your body and give you a blow job. What's up with that?" "Well, I figured this might be the only chance either one of us would be able to experience this incredible body. Are you mad at me?" "Nah. I could never get mad at you. You're my bud. Besides, it was pretty hot wasn't it." Bry gave me a big smile. "Bry, now I can tell you the whole story." I told him all about Mr. Asito, finding the rings in the lockers, and all the bad stuff that went down in this apartment. Brian turned to Matt, "You fuckin' prick! You were going to beat up David after he gave you back your body!?" "What are you going to do about it, little man?" Matt grabbed Brian, and pinched his shoulder. Brian let out a yell. "He's not going to do anything about it -? I am!" I grabbed Matt's hand and snapped the rings back together. "Oh shit! I didn't mean to hurt your friend. Please don't!" "It's too late for apologies Matt." I stared at the rings, "I want Matt's body." "David I'm sorry... NOOOO!" 

A few minutes later I stood there in Matt's body once again.Brian walked over to me, amazed that I had become Matt again. "Dave, you should leave Matt in your old body forever. That fuckin' homophobe doesn't deserve this body. If he had the chance, he would beat the crap out of both of us." "Maybe you're right Bry. I'll have to give it some thought." Matt chimed in, "What do you mean you're going to keep my body forever!? That body belongs to me!" "Not right now, it doesn't. I think Mr. Asito was right when he said, Until you find the truth with which you are afraid to face, you will not be the man you long to be." "Mr. Asito is a crazy old man who is full of shit!" "Maybe so, but until I say otherwise, these bods stay as they are; and if I hear any more lip service out of you, I'll make you SO passive that you'll be afraid of your own god damn shadow! Is that understood Slave?" Matt knew when he was beaten, "Yes, Master." "In fact, while I've got this huge body, I should have something that goes with my size." I concentrated on my ring. An arc of light went from my ring to his. Panicked, Matt said "What are you doing?!" "You'll see soon enough Matt." I felt a sudden movement in my Speedo. Smiling, I looked down and saw my dick starting to grow. Matt had a shocked look on his face. He grabbed his shorts and unzipped them. He saw his 9-inch dick begin to shrink. "Oh, no! Come on David! Please!"

Matt's dick continued to narrow and shrink until it was 5-inches. I watched as my dick became thicker and longer. It grew so long that the head of my penis pushed itself out of my Speedo and was rubbing against my 6-pack. "That's more like it. I guess I'll have to buy a larger Speedo, right Matt?" "Please David. Don't leave me with my old dick and your body. It isn't fair." "We'll see Matt. I'll probably give my dick back to you, but right now I think I'm going to be needing it for later." Brian walked over to me. "Dave, that was really cool. I got a hard-on watching your dick grow like that. Maybe you can give me a huge dick too?" "Maybe later, Bry. Right now I've got other plans. Why don't you take Matt over to Ripples, so he can meet some of our friends and get used to being David. I've got a hot date with a very special guy." "Isn't Ripples that queer bar down at the beach?" Brian swung Matt around to face him. "It's called a gay bar, scrawny boy." "Matt you be a good boy and we'll see about switching back. See ya guys later. Let me know if he misbehaves, Bry." "Will do, Dave -? um I mean Matt." We both smiled at each other. Before I headed out, an interesting idea popped into my head. I reached over and grabbed Matt's hand and slipped off the ring. "Hey! What are you doing, I need that ring to switch back into my body!" Matt said concerned. "Don't worry Matt, I promise I won't lose it. I thought it might come in handy later tonight." I stuffed my erection back inside my Speedo. I kissed Bry on the cheek and headed out the door. I jumped in Matt's Corvette and headed back to the gym. Bry and Matt got in Bry's car and headed over to Ripples. I was really looking forward to seeing Doug again. I had a feeling something might happen between us tonight.

Switch - Part 3

I headed back to the gym, hoping that Doug would still be there. As I was driving, I began to feel more comfortable in my new body. It was if I was getting used to being in Matt's skin. It felt so natural having my muscular arms holding on to the steering wheel and gear shift, and my thick, heavy chest pressed against my skin-tight tank top. I could feel the muscles flexing in my massive legs as I used the clutch, gas pedal and brake. I looked up in the rear-view mirror and saw Matt's handsome face staring back at me. I smiled as I felt my 9-inch dick begin to swell in my Speedo.Brian and Matt arrived at Ripples. "Can't we just tell David that we went in, and do something else instead?", Matt pleaded. "I don't think so Matt. David wouldn't like that, and I don't think you want to get David mad right now." Brian grabbed Matt's arm and led him to the entrance. There was a big guy standing at the door. "Hey, how's it going David?", the doorman said, "...you haven't been here in a while." Brian answered for Matt, "Well, he hasn't been feeling like himself lately." "Oh, you've been under-the-weather, David?", he said with a concerned look on his face. Matt spoke up, "Yeah, you might say that. I've been feeling pretty weak." "Well, I hope you start to feel like your old self again real soon." "I'm looking forward to that dude." Brian grabbed Matt's arm and led him through the door. 

Matt was surprised to find the inside of the place looked just like every other bar he had been in. There were a couple of pool tables off to the right. Neon beer signs were hanging all over the place. There were a couple of guys in the corner playing darts. "This isn't at all what I expected.", Matt said to Brian. "What did you expect, guys doing it with each other on top of the bar?" Embarrassed, Matt said "No, it's just that I had this picture in my mind of what a gay bar is like. Ya know, kinda sleazy, everything in the dark. This place is just like my hangout." "I'm glad you like it Matt. David and I come here all the time. It's the only place we can go where we feel safe and can be comfortable being ourselves. The outside world can be pretty cruel sometimes." Matt didn't know what to say. He knew Brian had directed that last comment at him. Feeling guilty, Matt looked down at the floor and said "I'm really sorry Brian." "Thanks Matt. I have a feeling you really meant that. Let's go on upstairs and have some fun."I arrived at the gym and saw Doug's car parked out front. "Good, he's still here.", I said to myself in my deep baritone voice. I walked into the gym and saw Doug laying down on the bench press. It looked like he was trying to lift two or three-hundred pounds. The weights on the bar looked huge. I knew as David, I wouldn't have been able to lift half of that weight; but with Matt's body I could easily handle it. I walked over. "Need some help with that?" I gave Doug a big smile. Surprised, he sat up. "Matt, you're back? How is David? He's ok isn't he? I was really getting worried." It was sweet how concerned Doug was about my well being. "I told you nothing bad was going to happen to David. Trust me, he's fine. In fact, I'd say he feels like a new man today." "That's great Matt. 

I knew in my heart you wouldn't do anything to hurt him.", Doug said relieved. "So Doug, do you need a spotter?", I said smiling. "Sure Matt. You can spot me ANY time." Realizing how forward that must have sounded, Doug started to blush. I thought it was cute how shy Doug was. It made him even more attractive, if that were possible. Doug laid back down on the bench and slid under the barbell. I went to the back of the bench and got in position. I watched as Doug hefted the massive weight off the weight rack and dropped it down to his chest. He let out a grunt as he forced the weight upward. His upper body was shaking as he fought against the force of gravity. He was able to do 10 reps before finally giving out. I grabbed the weight and helped him put it back up on the rack. Doug looked so sexy as he laid there breathing so heavily covered in sweat. I couldn't control myself anymore. I walked around to face him, bent down and kissed him on the lips. Suddenly, Doug grabbed me around my waist and pulled me on top of him. It felt wonderful pressed against Doug's muscular body. We wrapped our arms around each other while embraced in our passionate kiss. The kiss seemed to last an eternity, but was more like a few minutes. "Matt, I've dreamed of this happening, but I never thought it actually would." "Well, I was recently told that sometimes the impossible is possible." Smiling, Doug said "That's definitely true for me." "Me too Doug." "Matt, why don't we get cleaned up and go back to my place?" "That's a great idea Doug." We kissed each other again and headed for the showers.Brian and Matt headed up the stairs. They could hear the thumping bass of the disco music getting louder. About halfway up the stairs Matt recognized the song as that old gay standby "It's Rainin' Men". When they reached the top of the stairs they saw about forty young men dancing under the flashing disco lights and twirling mirrored balls. There were a couple dozen men standing around the dance floor, drinking, talking and smoking. Matt had never seen so many gay men in one place before, and they all seemed to be having a great time. Brian noticed how nervous Matt looked, "Matt, how about a drink?" "That sounds like a great idea, Brian." Matt watched the couples dancing as they slowly made their way over to the bar. Matt turned away from the dance floor and looked for the bartender. There standing behind the bar was the most attractive man Matt had ever seen. His face was so incredibly beautiful. Golden blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, masculine chiseled features and a well manicured goatee. 

His body was truly a work of art. He had the same muscle mass that Matt used to have, but his torso had a more sculpted look. His waist was narrower and his shoulders were wider, making him look like some sort of living, breathing Adonis. Yet as intimidating a figure as he was, he projected a great deal of warmth and kindness. He was wearing a muscle t-shirt and skin-tight Levi's cut-offs. No man had ever had this kind of effect on him before. Brian saw how entranced Matt was of the bartender. "He's quite a sight isn't he?" "Uhhhh, yeah I guess so." "Ya know Matt... Kevin has known David for a long time." "Kevin? His name his Kevin?" "Yeah, he really has a thing for David, and right now you're David. If you play your cards right you never know." Brian winked at Matt. Matt blushed.Doug and I walked into the changing room and started to undress. We both enjoyed watching each other take off our clothes. I could see that Doug was really getting turned on. I was getting aroused too. He slowly pulled off his bikini briefs revealing a throbbing 8-inch hard on. I smiled at him and removed my bulging Speedo. Doug's smile turned into a look of shock and surprise. I was puzzled. "What's wrong Doug?" Doug didn't say anything, he was staring at my erection. "Don't you like what you see?" "Sure I do Matt, but I'm a little confused." "What do you mean?" "I've seen you naked before Matt, and I don't want to sound cruel but I don't remember you being so well endowed." "What are you talking about?" "Matt, I've seen you hard... you're dick is 5-inches, 5 1/2 tops! What are you doing with that?" I looked down and saw my 9-inch dick pointing up at me. I forgot that I had borrowed my longer dick from my old body. "Doug I think I can explain, but I doubt if you'll believe me." "Try me." "Ok, I'll give you the Readers Digest version. For starters, I'm not the Matt that you've always known. I'm actually David inside Matt's body." 

I could already tell that Doug thought I was jerking him around. I continued, "You see it all started when I saved Mr. Asito from a falling tower of weights. He ended up giving Matt and me these special rings..." I showed him the ring on my finger and pulled the other ring out of my pocket. "When Matt joined the rings together they switched our bodies. I became Matt, and Matt became me, ...uh that is he became David." Doug had a blank look on his face. "Later I decided to switch our bodies back as long as I could become Matt whenever I wanted. Matt didn't like that, and had some other ideas. So, I kept his body and borrowed my -- I mean David's larger dick." Doug just stared at me, wondering what to make of my crazy story. "Doug, I know it sounds totally farfetched, but I swear to God it's true. I'm really David in Matt's body." "I don't know what to think. Right now I can't decide if I want to fuck your brains out or if I should call 911 and put you into a padded cell." "Personally, I like your first choice better." I gave him a smile. Doug didn't seem amused. "I should put back on my clothes and get the hell out of here, but something in your eyes is telling me not to." "That's good Doug, maybe you're seeing the real me that's inside." "This is getting really weird. Is there any way you can prove to me that you're telling the truth?" "I'm not sure." "That's what I thought, I'm outta here." Doug started to grab his clothes off the floor. "Wait a minute, I just remembered something. Remember when you told David that you knew he was gay, and you were tired of pretending to be the straight jock? Then you told him that you really liked Matt and that you wanted to have a gay friend that you could confide in?" Doug looked shocked. "How did you know that?" "Exactly. If I were really Matt do you think that David would have told me, I mean Matt, what we had talked about?" Doug pondered what I had said, "No, David wouldn't have told Matt." "See? That proves that I'm really David." "I'm still not convinced. 

Maybe you forced David to tell you that secret. Maybe that's what you did when you went over to his place earlier." I was getting frustrated. I wasn't sure what else to do. Suddenly an idea struck me.Kevin came over to Brian and Matt. "Hi guys, how's it going? Hey David, I haven't seen you in here in a while. I've missed you." Matt couldn't stop staring at Kevin. Up close he was even more stunning. Kevin noticed that Matt was in a trance. "David, are you ok?" Matt finally snapped out of it. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Yeah, I've missed you too." "Is there anything special I can get you?" Matt thought to himself, "Sure I'd like to see you naked in my bed!" Matt couldn't believe he was having thoughts like that about another man. Brian could see that Matt wasn't going to answer Kevin, so he spoke up, "We'll have a couple of screwdrivers." "Sure thing." Kevin walked off to make the drinks. "Matt, what's up with you? You're drooling all over Kevin. What's going on?" "I don't know. I've never been attracted to men before. I don't know what's happening to me!" "Maybe you're finally getting in touch with your feelings?" Kevin came back with the drinks. "What do we owe you for the drinks?", Matt asked. "No charge for you. But I'm sure you'll think of some way to repay me." Kevin gave Matt a huge smile and put his hand on top of Matt's. Matt's face turned beet red. "It's so cute the way you're embarrassed by the smallest sign of affection." Matt stared into Kevin's beautiful blue eyes and it felt like his legs were turning to jello. Brian spoke up, "Well I guess I'll leave you two guys alone... three's a crowd." Panicked, Matt said "Brian don't leave!" Kevin interjected, "Bry you're a good guy. It's nice of you to give Dave and me some privacy." "It's my pleasure." 

Kevin patted him on the shoulder. Brian winked at Kevin and walked away. Matt was nervous and excited. He didn't know what was about to happen. "I've got a half-hour break. Why don't we go in the office and talk?" Kevin came out from behind the bar and grabbed Matt's hand and led him into the private office."Doug how would you like to try an experiment?" "What kind of experiment?" "Well, if my idea really works it will prove that I was telling the truth; and if it doesn't work you can put me in the padded cell. Ok?" Doug thought about it for a minute. "Alright Matt, if it doesn't work you promise to tell me the real story?" "I promise. Let's go into the locker room. People going by can see us out here." "Ok Matt, we're in the locker room. What's the experiment? Don't tell me your going to switch our bodies?" Doug started laughing. "That's exactly what I'm planning to do. At least that's what I'm hoping to do.", I said concerned. "Fine, let's get this over with." I handed Doug the other ring. "Here put this on." "So now what? I've put on the ring, now were suppose to put them together and switch bodies, right?" I could tell Doug was just humoring me. I knew if this didn't work, Doug would storm out of here and never want to talk to me again. "Ok Doug, I just wanted to let you know what's about to happen. When we put the rings together the room is going to darken, you'll feel a cool breeze swirling around you, and there will be a surge of energy that will flow through your body." "Got it, Matt." I had a feeling that Doug wasn't even paying attention to what I was saying, and whatever he had listened to he didn't believe at all. "Ready Doug?" "Yeah, sure Matt." 

Doug and I put the rings together. Nothing happened. "Now we have to concentrate on switching bodies. Close your eyes and concentrate." We both closed our eyes. Still nothing happened. "We should stare at our own ring and speak out loud our desire. You should say "I want Matt's body" and I'll say that I want your body." "Matt come on, enough is enough." "Please Doug, just humor me for a little while longer." "Ok, I'll give you one more minute." "Great... ready, get set, 1, 2, 3, go!" We both made our demands to the rings, "I want Matt's body." "I want Doug's body." We waited. Still nothing happened. "I don't understand Doug. I was sure that it was going to work. I don't know what went wrong?" "Sorry Matt, I know you really believed that we were going switch bodies. When you decide to tell me the real story give me call, until then I don't want to hear any more of your fairy tales." Doug grabbed his clothes and got dressed. I decided to get dressed too. I thought I might be able to convince Doug that I hadn't made up the whole thing. We heard a voice behind us. "Those who don't wish to believe, make the possible... impossible." Surprised, we both turned around. Mr. Asito was in the doorway. "Hi Mr. Asito, it's me David." "Yes David, I know it is you." "Oh great, you've got Mr. Asito in on your little joke too.", Doug said sarcastically. Mr. Asito turned to face Doug, "David cares a great deal for you. He would never do anything to hurt you. Why is it so hard for you to believe in something that is beyond this world?" Before Doug could answer, Mr. Asito placed his fingers on Doug's face. Doug stood there unable to move. He looked like he was in a trance. "You must release your mind. You must release your doubt. Now you can believe." Mr. Asito removed his hand, then turned to me. "I can see Doug is a very special to you. Be patient with him. He will come around soon enough." He winked at me, then headed out the door."Are you ok Doug?" "I think so. I feel pretty strange." "Mr. Asito had done the same thing to me. That's how he found out I wanted to be Matt." 

"You ARE Matt. Oh, never mind. I just want to get out of here." "Come on Doug. Let's try it one more time, please." "You're not going to let up are you?" "Please Doug. Just humor me." "If I do, then will you leave me alone and let me go home?" "Yes, I swear." "Ok, one last time." Doug and I put the rings together again. "Concentrate on your ring. You have to want the transformation to take place, otherwise it won't work." "Alright, I'm concentrating. I want your body. I want your body." I focused on my ring. "I want Doug's body." A few seconds had passed. "Matt I feel strange, like I'm burning up." "Me too. I think it's beginning." We both looked down at the rings. They were starting to glow. "Matt what's happening?" "It worked. We're going to switch bodies!" The lights began to dim. A cool breeze started to flow around us. The energy from the rings slowly traveled up our arms and gradually enveloped our entire bodies. I grabbed Doug with my free hand and pulled him against me. I smiled at him. Doug looked frightened. "Don't worry Doug, if you don't fight it, it won't hurt as much." "Ok! I'll try not to fight it." "Give me a kiss for good luck." "A kiss?" I reached up and kissed Doug and held him tight. We continued kissing passionately when the transformation started. I could feel my body begin to change. My shoulders were getting wider, my waist was tightening. My abs were shifting position. I could feel Doug's body changing while we were pressed up against each other. My legs and torso were stretching taller. When we separated from our kiss we were exactly the same height. "Matt this is incredible! I'm becoming you!" "I know isn't this amazing!" We sounded exactly alike. I continued to grow taller and wider. 

Doug was shrinking before my eyes. He had lost 4 inches in height in a matter of seconds. I watched as his features changed into Matt's. He slowly morphed from a blue-eyed blonde Nordic to a black-eyed black-haired Roman. I could feel my features changing as I watched Doug changing into me. Gradually the transformation ended. The rings separated and our arms dropped to our sides. Doug and I stood there staring at each other's new body. "Matt this is unbelievable! You've got my body! Wow, I sound just like you" "Like I've been trying to tell you... I wasn't Matt, I was David. Now do you believe me?" "Yeah, I guess I have to now, since I'm standing here in Matt's body. I've got to see what I look like naked." Doug ripped off his clothes and began to pose in front of the mirror. "David what's going on?" "What do you mean?" "Look at my dick. It's only 5-inches long. When you had Matt's body it was 9-inches. What happened?"Kevin locked the office door. "I thought we might want to have some privacy, David." Matt was nervous and excited at the same time. "Sure Kevin. Uh, what did you have in mind?" Kevin smiled, grabbed Matt and pulled him tight against his body. Matt was getting aroused at how aggressive Kevin was. Matt slowly placed his hands on Kevin's torso. He could feel Kevin's well defined abs through the tight muscle-t. He moved his hands over his thick chiseled chest and hard biceps. He could feel how powerful and masculine Kevin was. Now he understood why David was so turned on by Matt's own body, because now he found Kevin's muscles incredibly sexy. 

Still, he kept wondering why a stud like Kevin would be attracted to a scrawny guy like David. Suddenly he felt his dick stirring in his shorts. It was getting hard. Not only was it getting hard. It was starting to get a lot longer and thicker too. Kevin looked down and saw Matt's dick growing in his shorts. "Dave, I'm glad you're enjoying this as much as I am." Matt's dick pushed it's way out of his shorts. The head of his penis was sticking out about an inch. "Oh my God, I've got a 9-inch dick again!" "It looks incredible, and so do you." Kevin passionately kissed Matt. Matt was surprised how wonderful it felt having his lips pressed against Kevin's. He loved the feeling of Kevin's goatee as it rubbed against his face. Kevin plunged his tongue into Matt's mouth. Matt felt like he was melting into Kevin. It was like they were becoming one with each other. He grabbed Kevin's firm round ass and squeezed it tightly, and slowly moved his hands up to Kevin's muscular back, then over his hard, massive shoulders. Matt's dick was hard as a rock. He suddenly pulled away from Kevin. Kevin looked puzzled. "What's wrong David?" "I'm not sure. I've never had these feelings for a man before. I can't help but wonder why you're even attracted to a guy like me?" "That's simple. You're the sweetest, nicest, most caring guy I know. I'd be crazy not to be in love with you." "In love? You're in love with David? Um, I mean me." Kevin smiled. "David, sometimes you are so slow." Kevin leaned over and kissed Matt tenderly on the lips."Doug I think I know what happened. When we switched bodies, my 9-inch dick must have returned to my old body." "Oh, I guess that makes sense. 

That wasn't part of Matt's body, so it wouldn't transfer with him." "I'm sure Matt must have been pleasantly surprised.", I said. "Well David, even with a 5-inch cock, Matt's body is incredible. I've fantasized about being intimate with Matt hundreds of times. Now I'm actually him! This is so unreal." Doug was looking in the mirror, feeling the contours of his face. "I know. I couldn't believe it when Matt and I switched bodies. I've always dreamed of having a body like that. I'm not really looking forward to giving it back." "Who says you have to give it back right away?" "Eventually I'll have to trade back. It's not fair to Matt. That is his body after all." "I guess your right, David." "Earlier today I used the rings to shrink Matt into a 120 lb. weakling, while I grew into a 6-foot-3, 270 lbs monster. Having that kind of power turned me into someone that I didn't like very much." "Well, what are going to do?" "I'm going to go over to Ripples and switch bodies with Matt. Will you come with me?" "Sure. But do we have to leave right this second? Why don't we get in the shower and have some fun?" "Sounds terrific, Doug." "First, I want to switch back into my own body. I don't think I can make love to my own body. That's just too weird." "My thoughts exactly. Besides, I'm looking forward to sticking Matt's dick up your ass." I gave Doug a wicked smile. Doug laughed... "Oooh, you're such a charmer David." I snapped the rings back together. I few minutes later Doug was back in his body, and I was Matt again. We kissed each other and headed for the showers. We spent the next 2 hours making love as the warm water cascaded over our muscular bodies. It was the most beautiful experience both of us had ever had. We finally left the showers, walked over to the lockers and toweled each other off. We stared at each other for a moment, knowing that we would never see each other like this again. We embraced in a kiss. 

Then we smiled at each other and headed out the door."David, how about going back to my place?", Kevin said. Matt didn't know what to do. He had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone, let alone a man. The thought of being intimate with Kevin was very exciting. Then he thought about Kevin feelings. He was in love with David. Not someone else inside of David's body. He knew if there were any chance of having an honest relationship, he would have to tell Kevin the truth somehow. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it. "Kevin, I'd love to go back to your place. But, I have something I need to tell you first." "Let me guess, it's another man?" "No, not exactly. Actually, I'm another man." "What do you mean? You've got multiple personalities?" "I know you're not going to believe me, but this morning I was Matt Johnson, a personal trainer at World Gym. I had a huge muscular body, just like you." Kevin just stared at Matt with a blank look on his face. Matt continued, "David and I found these rings in our lockers. We put them on and snapped them together. A few minutes later I was in David's body, and he had my body. Mr. Asito, the guy that gave us the rings, told me that I needed to look within myself before I could return to my body. I think I've done that. I discovered that I had kept my real feelings buried deep inside and I was taking it out on everybody else by being a pompous homophobic bully." "Wow David, that's quite an imagination you've got there. That would make a really cool episode of the X-Files. But if you don't want to go back to my place, just say so. I'll understand." Matt was getting frustrated. He had to think of some way to convince Kevin.Doug and I arrived at Ripples. We walked in and found Brian sitting at the bar by himself. Matt wasn't there. "Brian where is Matt?", I said. "Hey, David! Um, I mean Matt.", Brian smiled. "Never mind that. What happened to Matt?" 

"Oh, he's having a very private meeting with Kevin. I wouldn't disturb them if I were you." "Don't worry. He'll be glad to see me. Come on Doug, let's go." We headed upstairs."Kevin, I do want to go back to your place. It's just that I wanted you to know that you wouldn't be with the person you thought you were with." Kevin looked really confused. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but I find it really cute that you're trying so hard to convince me that you're not David." "Did I ever show an interest in being with you before?" "We'll not really. You said I was very attractive, but that you had this major crush on a guy named Doug." "That's the other personal trainer at the gym! David knew that Doug wanted to be with me, I mean Matt. That's why he wanted to be me. David was in love with Doug, and the only way he could have a chance with him was to become Matt. Then it really happened. We swapped bodies. While I was David, I realized that I was a gay man pretending to be this macho straight guy. Then I saw you standing there behind the bar, and I suddenly knew that I wanted to be with you." Kevin had a worried look on his face. "David, I think you actually believe your own wild story. I'm starting to get concerned. Maybe you need some sort of medication or therapy." "I swear Kevin, I'm telling you the truth!"I knocked on the door. Kevin said, "Come on in." 

Doug and I walked in. "Hi Matt. Hi Kevin. Sorry to bother you two.", I said. "Who are you?", Kevin asked, "...and why did you call David, Matt?" "Well, that's sort of hard to explain." "Don't tell me, let me guess, you're David, right?" "How did you know? Did Matt tell you?" "Ok, a joke's a joke, but this is really sick. I'm getting out of here." Kevin headed for the door. Doug blocked his path. "He's telling the truth. I think you ought to hear him out. In fact, David came here to tell Matt something important." Kevin stopped and turned around. "Fine, I can't wait to hear this." I walked over to Matt. "I've decided to swap bodies with you, permanently. Having this kind of power over someone is too destructive. I don't like the person I've become." "Really David? That's funny... ever since I became you, I got to know the real me inside. I discovered that I'm also gay, and that I was so afraid that I was taking it out on you and your friends. I'm truly sorry for being so abusive and for trying to hurt you earlier today." I could see that Matt was sincere in his apology. "I forgive you Matt. Now let's get back in our own bodies." I instructed Doug and Kevin to stand back. I could tell by the look on Kevin's face that he didn't believe any of this. I gave Matt the other ring. He slipped it on his finger. "Ok Matt, here goes." We snapped the rings back together. "Matt you go first", I said. Matt stared down at the rings, "I want to become Matt again." I focused my thoughts on the rings, "I want to become David again." Rings began to glow. The room lights began to dim. A cool breeze started to envelop us. Kevin looked frightened and started to back up towards the door. Doug grabbed him and told him it would be ok. The glow of energy covered our bodies one more time. I could see a change happening under Matt's clothing. His chest was expanding. His arms started to fill out with muscle. His waist was tightening. I could see his abs forming. I felt myself growing taller, becoming weaker. I saw my arms deflating. Kevin couldn't believe his eyes. He realized that Matt was telling the truth. Matt's legs swelled with muscle. He burst out of his shirt. It fell to the floor in tattered rags. His chiseled chest glistened from the sweat trickling down his v-shaped torso. His shoulders continued to widen as his lats filled in. 

A few minutes later the transformation ended. We stood facing each other in our old bodies.Kevin walked over to Matt. "That was incredible. If I hadn't been here I never would have believed it. You were telling me the truth. You really are Matt... and if you don't mind me saying so, you are gorgeous." "Thanks Kevin. I was hoping that some day I'd be able to kiss you in this body. That day is today." Matt reached over and passionately kissed Kevin. Kevin reciprocated by grabbing Matt in a tight embrace. "Why don't we head back to my place and you can tell me the entire story. Then afterwards, who knows?" "Sure thing Kevin. See you later guys." Matt and Kevin heading out the door."Well Doug, I guess I'd better head back to the gym and return the rings to Mr. Asito." "I'll go with you David." On the way back to the gym, Doug and I started to talk. "David, I much as wish you were still in Matt's body, I think you made the right decision by switching back with him. You were living in a fantasy world, even though it was a wonderful fantasy, it was just that... a fantasy." "I know. I'm really going to miss having those awesome muscles and that handsome face." "David, you're handsome in your own way. You're a really sweet, caring guy. Don't forget that." I grabbed Doug's hand. "I won't Doug. Thanks."We arrived at the gym and walked into the locker room. There sweeping up the floor was Mr. Asito. "Hi Doug. Hi David. I see you've returned to your body. Very interesting." "I didn't like the person I had become when I had the power of the rings, so I came back here to return them to you." I handed Mr. Asito the rings. "Very impressive David. That kind of power can corrupt the most noble of people. It is a wise man that makes the difficult choice that will benefit him down the road of life." "Thank you, Mr. Asito." "Please, call me Daniel." "Ok, Daniel. I just wanted to thank you for giving me the opportunity to live out a terrific fantasy." "It was my pleasure David. But this fantasy is not over quite yet." "What do you mean?" "To reward you for your truly unselfish act, I want you to put the rings together one last time." Mr. Asito placed one ring on each of my hands. He turned me to face the full length mirror. "Now David, join the rings." I looked over at Doug for his opinion. 

Doug smiled and shook his head. I looked down and snapped the rings together. Mr. Asito held his hands over the rings and spoke a lengthy incantation. His hands started to glow with a bluish-white aura. A bolt of energy went from his hands into the rings. The rings began to ebb and flow with the blue and white glow. Slowly the glow made it's way up my arms, over my shoulders, up to my neck. It gradually covered my face. I looked in the mirror and saw it move down my torso until it enveloped my entire body. The lights flickered then went completely out. The only light in the room was emanating from my body. I could feel a cool breeze swirling around me. Mr. Asito spoke, "Now it shall begin."I looked in the mirror and saw my body start to change. All of the fat around my waist slowing began to disappear. In about 30 seconds, I was totally lean. There wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on my body. I looked like the volleyball players I had always admired at the beach. I thought it was nice that Mr. Asito had given me the gift of a lean fit body. I took off my shirt and waited for the glow to subside, but it didn't. 

The glowing started to get even brighter. My waist began to narrow and tighten. I could see my oblique muscles developing on my sides. My stomach started to flatten. I rubbed my stomach with my hand and felt a six-pack of abs forming right under my skin. I watched as they slowly grew out from my tightening torso. My abs were now hard as a rock. "Doug, look what's happening to me! Look at my abs!" "I know David. It's incredible!" My rib cage was expanding. My chest started to grow outward and down. I could feel the muscle forming, getting thicker. It felt like I had two slabs of stone attached to my body. In a matter of seconds, I had a massive chiseled chest hanging over my ripped abs. Then my arms started to move away from my sides. My lats were growing at an accelerated rate. My arms were hanging at least a foot away from my waist. My shoulders started to burn. I looked to my right and saw my shoulder swelling with muscle. Then my 13-inch arms expanded to a solid 19-inches. My forearms thickened. 

I looked down and watched my legs as they continued to grow. My quads and hamstrings blossomed out. Becoming full and thick. The huge muscles looked like they were carved into my leg. When I flexed my thigh I could see all of the muscle groups separate. My calves suddenly ballooned to 3-times their size. "It is not over, look in the mirror, David." Mr. Asito requested. I looked up and saw my face changing. My jaw-line was becoming more angular. My chin was more square. My nose was narrowing, becoming straighter. My cheekbones were moving up my face. My lips were becoming more sensual, fuller. My eye color changed from a brownish grey to a crystal clear sky blue. My eyebrows filled in, looking thicker and making my eyes look even more sexy. When I smiled I saw 32 perfect teeth smiling back at me. Then as quickly as it began, it had ended. The breeze died down. The lights gradually came back on. The glow encompassing my body vanished. "The transformation has finished.", Mr. Asito has proclaimed. I stared at my image in the mirror. I was even a more spectacular specimen that Matt. I couldn't believe it was actually me. Then I wondered, "Daniel who have I become? I didn't have the ring connected to anyone else.", I said in a much deeper voice. "This is the real you, David. Standing before you is what you would have become if only the best parts of you had been able to develop. 

The rings filtered out the worst parts of your genetic code, leaving you with what you see before you." "I think I understand." Doug walked over. "David, you look amazing! You're even larger than me!" "I know. This is unbelievable." "I think the two of you have a lot to discuss." Mr. Asito winked and smiled. I handed Mr. Asito the rings and gave him a big bear hug. I turned to Doug, "You know I love you, Doug. Do you think you can learn to love the new me?" "There's only one way to find out." Doug put his hands on my face and gave me a passionate kiss on the lips. "I think I might be able to used to the new you!" Doug had a big smile on his face. We both laughed. Then we put our arms around each other's waist and headed out the door together. Doug and I had a feeling this was the beginning of something wonderful.

-- The End --

[vipervisionsart]

So here it begins...

I don't blog often anymore. Online journaling... and who's to know who's reading? Too many people say it's best to journal, or write, about ones daily life and activities. It can help some stay grounded or recollect what was once forgotten. I used to use Tumblr a lot. So much so to the point I got a good following on my personal blog. I got scared people I know would read it, so I deleted everything. I wish I didn't.

After I got hit with teargas canisters and flashbangs, I decided to quit healthcare, again. This would be the second time I've made this decision. There is a reason for it and I'm just not seeing it yet. I love healthcare and taking care of patients, however, I just don't believe that lifestyle is the right fit for me. The workload comparative to the pay is so trash and there are points where my depression gets in the way and nothing is fulfilling anymore. 

Then I come out of a really bad depressive episode and I almost have to force myself to find something fulfilling in healthcare. I don't get the same adrenaline rush I used to get. 

The performing arts and visual arts though, no matter how depressed I am, I can always participate in those kinds of activities and feel full. It doesn't matter what, who, when, where, or how. That's where my heart is...

I used to tell my ex all the time "just follow your heart and the money will come" because perusing your passions will earn you the greatest reward of all time. Everything is always what one makes of it, and if one is passionate about something all that hard work will never be for nothing. It just needs to be applied strategically. It's easier to do so when one's heart lies within it. I believe...

I really believed my heart was in healthcare... and maybe a good chunk of it is. That's why it will remain my backup plan... if pursing art, music, and dance doesn’t bring me success.

___________________________________________________________

I’ve been getting courted. There is one in particular I’m rather fond of. He’s not usually my type. Stepping out of my comfort zone has added on a different kind of happiness. I feel respected by him in a way, though his nature is possessive I understand that those tendencies are just signals of affection. I wouldn’t claim him to be different than most, though he does stand out slightly. There is a lot he has to offer. I appreciate that he listens, or at the very least pretends to, it makes me feel heard... but I also know that his “forgetful”ness will also cause a large downfall should important information--pertinent to my nature and dynamic--gets lost or thrown out of his ears and mind. He has made no mistakes thus far. It’s almost been 3 months. 

There is another one who I am not so fond of. Though he seems almost obsessive towards me. This nature I can pinpoint as sort of a reoccurring act. I am not the only one, nor will it ever be so. He offers me financial support and gifts. In exchange he would like to believe he is the only person I focus on. Attachment issues. Narcissism. Ego. He doesn’t listen, nor respect the emotional and mental boundaries I have set forth. He is persistent; annoyingly so. It has been almost 4 months. The farthest he’s gotten is a hug. 

I’ve been waiting for the first one to make a move at me romantically, but so far it seems his only prerogative is to have me as company and to boost his self-esteem towards women when he makes me cum. We still haven’t had sex. We did have a conversation last night, where he confessed to being nervous and probably a quick fuck. He didn’t have condoms, though Monday night I saw 6 in his nightstand and there was an attempt to use one, but the lack of exclusivity made me not so compelled to question anything. I told him “you can increase your sexual stamina by any means necessary and I wouldn’t mind a bit” to see if his mind would drift into seeing other people. He thought I was talking about jerking off. I repeated it again and added “and if you’re down, I’d like to watch” and I believe he got the point then.

There was no objections. 

Men will do whatever they want to do. My main belief is to communicate ones wants and needs upfront and allow them to chose how to handle that information and what actions they feel they want to take. This has been my philosophy for quite some time. Though, admittedly, I did lapse and fall into a toxic frame of mind during my time with my ex. The worst of me was brought out, instead of the best, and at that point I knew it was something I had to distance myself from. I never want to be that kind of woman again.

I have a lot to offer and I am worth more than diamonds. It will take the right person to realize that.

_______________________________________________________________

I had a good day today. My morning started off extremely slow and confusing. I was lost and stuck and did not know what to do. My depression is in full fledge and I am doing my best to fight through it. I’ve been planning a head of time, because I’m starting to get the sense of when these episodes will happen, and in turn I’ve been creating schedules in my calendar app to plan my days when I get stuck as I did this morning. Now it’s a matter of having the willpower to stick to schedule or allow my depression to consume me. I will not allow my depression to consume me, but rather be a tool to my success. My depression is a tool to my success.

I went to dance practice and winged the combo we were meant to create and teach on the fly and I believe I did pretty well. The other trainee, did exceptional. I like him and I want to be his friend. 

After dance, I felt invigorated. I was able to fold and put away my laundry and tidy up a bit. Off schedule but things were still done! All progress is good progress. Tomorrow, I am hoping to stay on schedule and perhaps get more things done. Towels need to be washed and the floors vacuumed and mopped and I need to get started on producing my music. 

My ex’s friend, still hesitant to call him my friend when I speak of him to others, has been a great help in getting me started with my music. I am waiting for my second option to gift me a studio recording kit so I am able to finally get some tracks down. I want my music to be composed, produced, and so forth originally and solely by me. There is a specific sound I want and I don’t like sharing with others my internal feelings because that’s basically what my music is. This is part of my soul communicating with the world. She has been dying to. 

_____________________________________________________________

I’m finally becoming tired enough now to sleep. Rest well, all. I love you. 

I hate sleeping alone. I hate small beds. I hate sleeping on the couch. 

I am ready for a place of my own. Somewhere I can call my home. I am ready. I am willing. I will have all that I wish for.

All the negative energy towards me and/or sent to me will be reflected back to it’s sender. I send the sender light energy to change their way of thinking. I wish ill on no one. Therefore no one should wish ill upon me. May the sender understand balance.

I miss skating.

[the-canary]

Don’t Think Twice - S.R (6/10)

Summary: Neither of you thought there were things the other was so afraid of. (Enhanced!Reader/Steve Rogers).  

Prompt: Vertigo - sensation of whirling and loss of balance, associated particularly with looking down from a great height; giddiness

A/N: This is for @until-theend-oftheline ‘s beautiful words challenge. 

Feedback is always welcomed.

It’s like a factory reset, Victor can’t help but note though it has only happened twice now.

Your emotions are one of the triggers to the metal blood becoming too hard to handle within your patchwork of a body.

Any type of strong emotion reaction leads to you reacting like a pot of water underneath a flame. He didn’t know what happened when you completely went over since both times you had rained everything back in and blacked out —like now, as he watched you sleeping on metallic gurney— from the exhaustion of it all.

He was sure that deep down you knew what could happen to you, but it wasn’t that you ever brought up -- so it only played in the back of his mind. Though there was something else that had caught his attention when Captain Rogers had brought you in.

There were hardly any burns on him and mostly centered around his hand, though Victor was sure that they would be gone in a few hours, but it wasn’t like the last time -- where one of his former partners was left with a pretty nasty scar that to this day was a horror to look at.

He could only wonder whether it had something to do with Captain Rogers’ own powers or where you getting better at controlling it at that level as well.  

Steve spends a good amount of his free time looking at the report that Maria had given him two days after his incident with you, who still hadn’t woken up yet. The team that had been sent by S.H.I.E.L.D had reported that there was similar material --like your blood-- being used in explosives by a small terrorist group in Eastern Europe, where the aftermath of Sokovia has caused a huge power vacuum to form and international agencies along with the Stark Foundation could only do so much within an area that had already damaged beyond repair.

S.H.I.E.L.D agents familiar with your background had been sent to where they were sure the group was located only to find something worse -- the same thing all over again, as a million bloody courses where kept in large glass tanks all wearing the same face that was staring at them in anger when they came.

It was like finding her all over again, was something remarked by an agent, but instead of one living thing -- there was an inconceivable amount and for everyone one that they brought down, three more took its place.   

Either the doctor had perfected his own version of “super healing” or someone had taken up the cause for him and this was their version of it -- and that sent a cold fury down through Steve.

There had been a time where he was the “strangest” thing that had come out of a lab, but at least there was  reasoning behind it --the war effort-- and he has some idea on the consequences of his actions, though he was too hard-headed to notice. But, there were others --like Wanda-- who didn’t understand all that they would have to go through to get what they wanted, and there were others --like you-- who never got any of those.

Steve, while looking at the blurry images of a young man, can’t help but wonder if this new person, being was looking for some type of purpose like you had in all the time in he had known you, or if he was just following in the footsteps of those who just wanted to watch the world burn.

For whatever reason, Steve knew deep down that he would help you in whatever way he could -- even if you didn’t want him to, he was stubborn as hell like that.

Gideon. He calls himself Gideon and he’s waiting for his baby sister.  

--That’s what Issac, the S.H.I.E.L.D agent with a scar on his neck and endless smile tells you when you finally wake up from your little “combustion incident”. You end up thinking too much of the young man that seems to have your color hair but light-colored eyes.

From what you understood, he had been found under similar circumstances to you, but the bodies were all still alive in some way -- they were all Gideon and when he was taken down, another was there to take the first one’s place. It was a scary thought that there could be so many of him (where there more of you as well?), but you couldn’t help the soft humming on your blood at the thought that you has some type of family -- that there was someone out there in the world that might have known the reason why you had been made and understood what you were going through.

Someone who could understand you, it almost made you think of a certain Captain but you shook your head -- Steve wouldn’t what anything to do with you after that incident.

You grit your teeth, remembering the smell of burning flesh from that night before pushing the thoughts of the man away -- you didn’t deserve anything from after what you had done. A numbing feeling sets in your very core, where the jewels and rock lay as your “heart”, at the thought that you have driven him away -- but it was for the best.

It’s on the fourth day of your self-imposed exile in the lab that you finally decide to open your eyes, instead of having everyone pretend that you are “sleeping” and that’s when you see it--

“Hey,” a warm voice welcome you back to the land of the living as you look around to see bright, blue eyes, “How are you feeling?”

That all too familiar dizziness return at the sight of his soft smile as you can’t help but think that Steve might be someone who might not actually leave you alone -- and you aren’t too sure how to feel about that.

[wily-red-and-galeforce-gold]

\\Outgoing encrypted text: @skywxrpxd

Hey,

I’m guessing that understandably you probably don’t want to hear from me in any way shape or form, but I owe you an apology. So…buckle up, I guess. Or don’t and delete this message. Or burn it or something. I dunno. I feel like if someone could figure out how to burn digitally encrypted data you’d be the one to do it.

Now that the stalling is out of the way-

I’m sorry.

Tut mir leid.

Just as a heads up I’m putting all of this down via stream-of-consciousness, so if I’m all over the place sorry about that too?

I guess I should try to find a starting point.

You know how there’s that ‘oh-no second’ before the pain registers after you stub a ped tip or run your shin guard into the corner of a piece of furniture?

That’s how it was after I kissed you.

Although I guess the furniture metaphor kinda falls short. It was more that moment before the thermonuclear warhead drops. And you can see it happening in slow motion, but there’s nothing you can really do but think, ‘Wow. I went an’ done did bad on this one.’

See, there was this split-second immediately after I did that to you where even dense, stupid me realized ‘Oh. That was a bad decision.’ Only even then it hadn’t fully percolated just on how many levels I had fucked up. Not yet. I mean, again, I could tell that I fucked up, but it wasn’t after I talked to TC about it, and after I had some time to think about it, that I really, ya know, got it. The whole of it and the magnitude of the awfulness of what I had done. He definitely helped me realize some of the finer points of where I messed up beyond the obvious.

I understand why you were so angry at me. Everything you said…everything you accused me of-

I get it. I understand. And… I dunno, even if I wasn’t thinking of things in that way, or really thinking at all, I… agree? Well, I’m not saying that I was actively trying to do any of the things I think you thought I was trying to do, but I a hundred percent can see how it looked that way. And that’s the thing that matters, right?

Prowl once told me perception can be reality, and I get that a little better now.

None of it was me getting tired of TC and looking for something new, but… I made him worry that that’s what it was. That’s not what I was trying to do, and I didn’t see things like that, but that doesn’t matter because that’s what I made him feel.

That’s what I made you feel? On top of a buncha other not great things.

I need to back up for a bit.

I want to at least say that, no. I wasn’t put up to anything by the Autobots. I wasn’t following orders. I am perfectly capable of being stupid all on my own. My mistakes were mine.

Not that you have any reason to trust me anymore, I just wanted to let you know that everything I had done, both at that point and beforehand, and every interaction we’ve ever had… It wasn’t all part of some long-con, insidious Autobot plot to compromise you. Or TC. 

Literally, it’s all just been me being a massive idiot, floundering along as I figure everything out on the fly. Because apparently, I’m an inexperienced, self-destructive moron who doesn’t know anything, and to compensate, I make things up as I go to my own detriment.

I don’t want you to think that I was ordered to do anything because that’s not true. I also don’t want you to think that because in some way shape of form, to me at least, that makes it sound like I’m not a hundred percent responsible for my choices. Which is wrong. I am.

My choices were mine and mine alone. Every step. Talking to you. Wanting to keep talking to you even though I shouldn’t just because of faction shit alone let alone anything else. Wanting to hang out with you. Wanting a back and forth where things weren’t all vitriol and death threats, but instead, I dunno... Holiday slag and pretending not be a soldier for a bit.

None of that was a lie, because I’m selfish like that. I wanted those things even though I’m not supposed to. 

Kissing you was my choice. I wasn’t put up to it. That insensitive, stupid decision was mine alone.

I am absolutely a hundred percent to blame for my own bad decisions. Nothing was planned, everything was literally just me making things up as I go, fucking up along the way, and no one else is responsible for any of it.

I don’t plan things. I improvise, and do, and I push, and I push, and I push, toeing the line, and then I have the gall to be shocked when things go wrong.

I didn’t communicate what I was about to do. Or ask properly? I didn’t say , ‘Hey Skywarp, is it okay if I do this specific thing?’ Or use my slagging words? That would have been the smart thing, right? Because then you could have said no, or you could’ve hit me sooner. Or better yet, I could have done nothing. I could’ve reigned in a bad impulse. I shouldn’t have done anything at all. But would’ve, could’ve should’ve rights?

But I got scared that maybe I was starting to like you in the same way that I like TC, and that was terrifying…but you’re right. That’s still awful. I’m awful and I handled it in the worst possible way I think.

I shouldn’t have done anything, but I did do something, and I’m sorry. I can’t take it back.

I wasn’t trying to, but again, it doesn’t matter because I hurt you, I think.

Even if I didn’t see any of it in the context you perceived things, and even if in my head I never had any intention to hide things from anyone, what difference does that even make? I made TC afraid that maybe I was tiring of him, and I think maybe I made you feel like I was using you? And it doesn’t matter that that’s not what I was trying to do at all. All that matters is the fact that you felt that way, right? That he felt that way?

Hurt and betrayed?

Literally the shittiest two-birds-one-stone scenario, and it took me a fraction of a second.

Because that’s not okay. That’s so not okay, especially when you’re supposed to care about someone. But even if you don’t believe me, I want to let you know that that I wasn’t trying to hurt you, or use you, or fool you. That’s not what I was trying to do. I just…I got scared. I got scared that I was going down the same slagging dusty road I had been down once before, because again all of this…including everything with TC…in the grand scope of the entirety of my life, is new. That doesn’t justify anything, but- I don’t know where I’m going with this.

As previously established, I’m an idiot.

And since I’m an idiot, and since it’s honesty hour, the truth of it is I like you. That much I already knew even though I pretended I didn’t. Which is stupid, because actions speak louder than words right?

I like…liked hanging out with you. I liked the silly conversations, and the stupid jokes, and I like how your head works, and the fact that you have something you believe in. Because you get some of how my head works, and not just the rapid-fire-jokes parts of it. You know what it’s like to have everyone look at you like you’re a vapid, one-dimensional idiot, even if that’s not it. There’s depth there. I can see what all the fond and good things that TC would tell me about are.

And I got scared because I didn’t want it to be the same.

You asked me if I thought this was fun, right? TC? You? It’s not. Being afraid to fight someone who’s supposed to be my enemy because I don’t want to hurt them is not fun.

I know I already said this before, and it fell flat then, but with TC… with TC nothing was planned. It snuck up on me. Harassing him like a good little Autobot turned to talking. To conversations. To understanding him and wanting to know more about him, and caring about him, and before I knew it I was defying my commander and ruining everyone’s trust in me, including my own brother’s, to go get him. I don’t regret that. I’ll never regret that. Maybe how a lot of it was handled, yeah, but in that case every impulsive decision I ever made for him was worth it.

Because he was an exception to a long-standing rule.

None of that was Thundercracker’s fault. That was me. Again, that was my decision, and I’m sorry for what that did to you too.

Then there was you, and I was scared that everything with you was too like everything before. Primus, I’m not trying to shift any blame toward you even a little bit, because this is all because of things in my own head. But again: here’s someone who’s supposed to be my enemy, and I apparently go and decide that in some capacity I like them. I wanted to know what it was. In what capacity. And In my head, in that moment, it made sense because then I thought if I could figure out what it was then I could… I dunno, talk to TC about it. Talk to you about it. Figure it out, or maybe see if it was nothing at all. Figure out what the hell to do? If anything? Or nothing. I don’t-

I was stupid. I was stupid, and thoughtless, and I wasn’t thinking about how…cruel that was.

You were right.

You were right because at that moment I wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone outside of my own impulsiveness. I wasn’t thinking about how he’d feel. Or how you’d feel. Or the slag timing of everything, and how things are between both of you with your trine…. Your trine bond just fell apart and I was so…. callous. Seriously, now is when I go and pull this bullshit? I was so concerned with my own worries, that I think I just assumed that everything was in a vacuum that would just work out regardless of the answer I found for myself and that was thoughtless and selfish. It didn’t occur to me how awful and cruel that was. In my head, in what little I spent thinking about anything before I just went and did. I thought-

I don’t know what I thought.

It probably sounds like I’m just… rationalizing and trying to make excuses but I’m not trying to do that. Then again, I wasn’t trying to be as awful as I had been and look at everything now.

So, in summary. I was in the wrong. I messed up. It doesn’t slagging matter what my intentions were in the end. That’s no excuse.

That’s no excuse.

Dafür gibt es keine Entschuldigung.

Dafür gibt es keine Entschuldigung, und es tut mir zutiefst und aufrichtig leid.

You were right. That wasn’t loving him enough. And for all I’m trying to claim that it was because I was worried I liked you, that wasn’t fair to you either. You were right to be angry, and disgusted with me, and to be honest I get it. 

Because that’s what I feel towards myself.

It…It wasn’t the same as with Thundercracker. I don’t know entirely what answer I got, but at the very least I know that, and I think at the core of it all-

-I think I wanted to be your friend.

But that doesn’t mean that I’m somehow entitled to you liking me back in any capacity. Or that you automatically would be cool with anything I did. Especially after doing something so stupid.

Everything was already fragile....

If anything, I feel like if there was even the remotest chance of cultivating some vaguely friendship shaped thing, I went and shattered it against a wall in a moment of selfish thoughtlessness, didn’t I? And you know what?

That’s my fault. That’s all me, and I’ll live with it.

Although maybe that was a stupid, selfish thing to have wanted too.

So….

I don’t know why I’m trying to do this. Or what I’m trying to accomplish.

Still felt I owed an apology.

I hurt him. And I hurt you.  

I’m not trying to rationalize, or make excuses, because it doesn’t matter what the ‘why’ was in my head. That doesn’t make any of it, somehow, acceptable or right. It’s not. It’s not it’s not it’s not-

It’s not an excuse and I understand how…terrible it was of me to do that. Just the timing of everything alone was cruel. I wasn’t clear on what I was about to do. I didn’t give TC any kind of heads up or discuss it with him first. I didn’t communicate anything. I just assumed.

So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for making you question my intentions. I’m sorry for making you question my intentions with Thundercracker because even if he doesn’t talk about it, and even if you didn’t much, I know he’s still important to you.  I’m sorry that I... betrayed both of you in some way. And if it earned me resentment from either of you, there’s no one to blame but me.

I didn’t want to hurt you.

I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Tut mir Leid, ich wollte dir nicht wehtun.

But I did.

You had every right to be angry with me.

You have every right to hate me.

Both of you deserved better.

You deserved better,

So…. I guess that’s it.

I’m not expecting a response back. You don’t owe me that.

Knowing you owe an apology isn’t synonymous with being entitled to forgiveness.

Just…

I’m so sorry.

It’ll never be enough, but I’m sorry. It doesn’t fix anything. I can’t fix the things I broke.

But I’m sorry.

-Sides

//end encrypted text.

[betsynagler]

I steal pens.

I steal pens.

I'm not entirely sure when I started doing it, but I'm pretty sure it happened at a hotel. Of course, the pens in hotels are kind of meant to be taken, so it’s not really “stealing,” they're free advertising because they have the name of the hotel on them. Plus, they're never very good pens to begin with, they are always your most basic ballpoint, plus they obviously come from some place that uses the cheapest plastic and smallest inkwells, because, again, they're not so much meant to be writing implements as tiny, disposable billboards. So I have never really felt that bad about taking them home and using them as long as they last, which, considering how seldom I need to hand-write anything these days, can be quite a while. But this is why, if you ever meet me, and you ask to borrow a pen, there’s an excellent chance you’ll get one from a Hampton Inn.

But I will occasionally also take pens from other places. Like if I'm at work on a commercial, and they have a box of pens there for us to fill out our timecards, and I recently lost the one I keep in my bag, maybe I just won’t…give this one back. Why does this seem okay to me? Well, they have a whole box, I know they’re not going to need them all. I also know that the people out of whose pocket the pen money has come are not the people I’m working with on the day, nearly all of whom are freelancers of one sort or another — so basically, nobody I meet on job is going to be hurt if I take the pen. The only entity you could say is being “hurt” is the production company that hired us all for that job, but they can generally afford to lose a 50¢, or 30¢, or 8¢ pen, depending how large the bulk office supply box they bought is — and it’s always a bulk office supply box, which also shows the scale of spending on what we do, that they will just buy a whole box of pens for one two-day job. Money is not really an object for these companies the way it is for me, because even when they plead poverty and beg us to work for lower rates and nickel-and-dime us on rentals and understaff the camera department, they nearly always can somehow afford to buy rafts of Starbucks coffees and gourmet donuts for the clients. On top of that, I see the people who do own these companies on set sometimes, when they show up for half an hour to shake hands and then drive off in their Porsches or Lexi (yes, they’re always midlife-crisis-aged men), and there definitely seems to be something disproportionate there in terms of how much they make and how much my crew colleagues and I make, and who’s doing all the work. So in some small way, I feel like I’m redressing a huge imbalance between me and the 1%; I’m not taking pens from people, I’m taking them from The Man. And when I take pens from other places — I’m at a store and someone asks me to do a survey and I need a pen so I just don’t give it back, or I find one someone dropped on set and I don’t try to figure out who dropped it and return it, I just pocket the thing — I have a similar list of justifications for why it’s okay to just take them. And if those don’t work, I can always tell myself, It’s just a pen.

When I was younger, and I had less stuff, I took more stuff, to the point that some might say it crossed a line into actual theft. In my 20s, when I worked in an office part-time, I would take home office supplies, not just pens but Post-It notes, sometimes even entire legal pads. Again, I knew the people who owned these companies, and they had cars with drivers and private bathrooms with phones built in their offices (something in the pre-cell phone era that said you thought your time was so valuable you couldn’t even stop working to take a shit), so I was pretty sure they wouldn’t care about me taking this stuff, and if they were the kind of stingy assholes who would, they deserved to lose office supplies. Plus, everyone else who worked there did it, as has everyone else who’s ever worked in an office. And this last was also the reasoning behind why I felt it was okay to take glasses from bars as “souvenirs,” especially when my roommates and I needed glasses: it was just something that we all did back then, when we weren’t enough money to buy the things we needed. Our other “stemware” was cups that came free with drinks at sports or holiday events, and our furniture was stuff we found on the street and milk crates covered in fabric, as if that made them look less like milk crates. Once you’re taking things from somewhere that’s not your place of work, though, you can't pretend they're some sort of salary bonus as justification. Like, why did we consider it okay to steal from service establishments, but not okay to shoplift the same items from stores? Was it a calculation that lost or broken glasses are just a cost of doing business at a bar? Was it just because we thought we wouldn't get caught, or because if we did, we thought they’d let us off the hook because we were young women drunk on their alcohol? And was it just the souvenir factor that made it more likely that I’d take something from a bar in another state or country than at home, or was it because I was less likely to identify with the owners of a place so far away that I knew I’d probably never visit again, even though they were still human beings for whom that business was their livelihood? Basically, did we just think it was okay to do these things because we thought we could get away with it and not feel guilty?

I guess what I’m wondering is, how do we decide what’s wrong, and who we think it’s okay to hurt when we do it? And I believe the answer, unfortunate as it is, is that so much of this stuff is social. I stole what I stole when I was younger because other people did the same thing, and I took their justifications as my own (possibly adding on a few for good measure because I think too much). Now, when I take pens, there’s some part of my brain that considers not just how taking the pens will affect the party from whom I’m taking them, but how other people would react to it. On some level, knowing that I can sit here and tell you that I sometimes take pens that don’t belong to me, and that you probably won’t condemn or even think less of me for it, makes it okay for me to keep doing it. Is my conscience that flexible? Apparently so, and in case you haven’t noticed, yours probably is too. Humans are rationalization machines. Even if someone’s religion or spirituality or ethical code makes them “adhere” to some inflexible collection of words they believe someone (like God or the founding fathers or a group of likeminded pirates) gave them, they still seem to find the means to be extremely interpretive of those words when it comes to their own actions — perhaps even more than the rest of us. Because once it becomes about obeying words rather than policing one’s own actions through truly considering for yourself what’s right and wrong, then it’s just a question of creatively manipulating the words, or overwriting them with other words from the same source, or just deciding that the fact your group has the words makes you better than everyone else, and therefore justified in doing whatever the hell you want. Which is called “exceptionalism,” and also, “hypocrisy.”

Often, what you think is good for you is going to hurt someone else, so at some point we all have to consider the line between our own personal priorities and theirs. In the United States, where we often prize individual liberty higher than anything — sometimes, indeed, in a very inflexible code type way (I’m looking at you conservative bloc of Supreme Court justices) — there are many instances where the “them” we think we’re more important than is our community, or country, or basically the rest of world, and that calculation that can lead to some pretty wackadoo results. Somehow, many Americans seem to think someone's individual right to own an AR-15 outweighs the right of everyone else not to be murdered with one. Others seem to think it's more important that individuals get to choose not to vaccinate their kids rather than ensuring dangerous diseases don't spread to everyone else’s kids. And overall, it seems like we don't see it as the responsibility of American society to reform people who commit crimes, or fix the problems that led to those crimes, for our collective betterment, instead choosing to place that responsibility on the shoulders of one person — as if they exist in a vacuum. Is America greater because of school shootings, measles outbreaks, and mass incarceration? Because I would say those are among the defining characteristics of our culture right now.

And if anything, it feels like the line is moving in the wrong direction. Having a president who can be counted upon to always put his needs and wants above everyone else’s is frightening, because his lack of giving a shit about anyone else and the lack of giving a shit of everyone in government who follows his lead has devastating consequences for policy. Add to that the social animal bit, so that their behavior and language sets the example for huge swaths of this country and the world about what is considered okay to do to other people, and the ramifications become even more horrifying. I see it so often in what their supporters say on Facebook and Twitter — matching each other so exactly it’s like one voice bouncing straight out of the Fox News echo chamber — that what Trump says isn’t nice but it’s honest; that what he’s doing is helping “America”; that we need to put “us” first and stop caring about “them.” But once you start to build the list of who the Right seem to consider a “them” that it’s okay to hurt for your own sake -- immigrants, muslims, prisoners, addicts, poor people, people of color, LGBTQ folks, women who want control of their bodies, Jews, “libtards” — you might start to realize how many of “us” are included in their “them,” because basically everyone’s “them” is somebody else’s “us.” I guess the question is, at what point does “us” just basically mean “me”? And what kind of a sad, selfish fucking person do you have to be to think that’s the way you want to live?

Look, I’m not perfect. I steal pens. If there’s a free seat on the subway, I’m going to go for it as long as I don’t have to push an elderly person or a child out of the way — I mean come on, caring about the world doesn’t mean I stop being a New Yorker! But I try to help people who are lost, I always tip at least 20%, and I don’t cut into the exit lane line off the BQE. I actually used to do that, until I realized I was being an asshole, and so I stopped — because even if we are great at justifying the bad things we do, doesn’t mean we have to keep doing them. We can do better. In the past couple of years, I’ve donated more money and time to good causes, made videos and podcasts to promote change or get people to think, and I really try to help and listen whenever I can, because I know that it’s more necessary. If the world is getting more selfish, then those of us who want to make it better have to work harder to be less so. I’m not a saint, or a buddhist, or even a vegan, but I pay attention to where I draw my lines. And I find it hard not to wonder how many people in this country right now simply keep telling themselves, It’s just a pen.

[timeclonemike]

Random Idea: “Portia” Spider-Man AU

I haven’t actually seen Into The Spiderverse myself, but I have read that it has started a trend towards people coming up with their own Spider-Man AUs. More specifically I read that there’s a lot of people lashing out against that for some reason, which I don’t get.

I also watched a walkthrough of the PS4 game, which actually motivated me to work on a completely different project.

I might as well state right now that I do not have an encyclopedic knowledge of Spider-Man in particular, or the Marvel multiverse in general, much less the exponentially greater possibilities that come from a huge fan base. To the best of my limited knowledge, I don’t think I’m treading on anyone’s toes, and if it turns out somebody had the same ideas before me and reads this, I promise I’m not trying to steal your thunder.

The Origin: Pyotr “Peter” Parker is second generation Russian-American living in the Big Apple. He’s a scientific prodigy, and he was well on his way to getting a scholarship that would launch him to dizzying academic and technical heights when his life was demolished; his mother, father, and uncle were all killed in some sort of crossfire between different mob families. His academic performance and social life were also casualties, first from grief, and later from the impotent rage burning inside him from seeing nothing at all happen to find and punish those who had done so much harm. The kid who was on a fast track to following in the footsteps of such scientific visionaries as Tony Stark, Hank Pym, and Oswald Octavius did the bare minimum of work needed to keep his teachers and Aunt May (his only living relative) off of his back; the rest of his days and much of his nights were spent in an angry haze of revenge-based daydreams and fantasies.

The Transformation: Peter does not remember exactly how, but one morning he woke up with a painfully swollen spider bite. After a day or so, the swelling went away, but it was replaced by other “symptoms” that were decidedly more permanent. In no particular order, he could stick to various surfaces, detect motion nearby, and found that his strength and agility were dramatically increased. Most dramatic of all, he could jump much, much farther than any human being had any business jumping. To an angsty, hormonal teenager who had fumed and raged inwardly as he watched the injustice perpetrated on his family go unpunished for years, it was like Christmas morning. (It was actually Arbor Day, but that’s not really important.) With barely enough sense to get gloves, a ski mask, and goggles to hide his identity, he set out to to do by himself what the police and the courts could not, or would not, do through proper channels.

The Defeat: Superpowers or not, a teenager is not a match for multiple, competing organized crime families. Peter was shot four times, twice in the left leg, once in the right shoulder, and one glancing blow to the skull that would have punched his clock if not for his Spider-Sense based reflexes. With a concussion, a leg that couldn’t support his weight, and a whole lot of lost blood, Peter was forced to back off to some place safe, call 911, and nearly collapse right after tossing his “costume” in the closest dumpster. Emergency surgery and a blood transfusion saved his life, and while his recovery was almost miraculously fast according to the doctors and nurses keeping an eye on him, he still had to convalesce.

The Lesson: The time spent in bed, with nothing to do but mull over his defeat, forces him to reconsider what he is doing and why. He was about ready to throw all his dreams of revenge out the window and move on with his life... when the assassins showed up. After all, gunshot wounds are reported to police, and not every officer who swears to uphold the law actually keeps that oath. The assassins try to smother Peter while he pretends to be asleep; for their trouble, they get kicked with the same amount of force that previously launched Peter across streets and up the sides of buildings. Fortunately for them, they are in a hospital already. With a paranoia that has nothing to do with his new danger-detector in his head, Pete leaves the hospital without being officially discharged, makes it home, and discovers that his Aunt May ended up taking out two home invaders... and instead of the invaders being carted off, Aunt May is the one being held on trumped up charges. Peter has the consequences of his actions thrust into his face, and he angsts over his irresponsibility for all of five minutes before he has an epiphany that few Spider-themed superheroes ever figure out: Not everything bad that happens is automatically his fault.

The Comeback: While only a few days older, Peter is now much wiser, and begins a methodical plan of attack. The forces arrayed against his family cover the city like a web, but he’s learned a lot about spiders recently. Between phone calls, letters, and Duck Duck Go, Peter maps out the people he has to fight. These include a hanging judge, an attorney general living beyond her apparent means, and a couple of cops who have some black marks on other people’s social media, if not their professional records. With a new, thematically different costume, some cheap smartphones, and gadgets put together from dollar store specials and dumpster diving, Peter starts collecting evidence of corruption and leaving flash drives and SD cards in the mailboxes of the people who seem to be trustworthy. The gears of justice start to grind, while the gears of corruption have sand thrown into them. (What actually happened is that Peter found the AG was in the mob’s pocket, kidnapped her, called her “handlers” and played back some carefully edited sound bites recorded from a rival family’s conversations. Her “execution” was interrupted, but her home and worldly possessions went up in flames at the same time. She suddenly has much larger problems than she did before.)

The Arch Enemy: Aunt May’s two counts of justified self defense are properly rendered as such by a court that does not have multiple actors in somebody’s pocket. Turns out a whole lot of internal affairs investigations have opened up, and a laundry list of cold cases have been opened, in addition to the conflicts already set in motion. What keeps May and Peter safe, though, is what happens to a mover and shaker way up in the food chain (known as “Hammerhead” to his subordinates because of his shark-like ferocity). Hammerhead gets a mysterious visit from a masked figure who kicks his ass three ways from Sunday, and who lets him know that he’s taking his time to make him suffer for killing the masked figure’s brother. Three bullets are put into Hammerhead with his own sidearm, but the bullet that would have gone in the man’s skull misses, apparently because his guys finally showed up to help him. Hammerhead falls for the ruse hook, line, sinker and compressed air tank, and all the resources dedicated to finding this spider-themed vigilante get aimed in different directions, including the ones that had been sent after this Pyotr Parker kid, since he’s an only child. (The guys sent after Parker don’t have much to say, because his kicks packed a wallop and also because nobody contradicts Hammerhead when he’s angry.) This lays the foundation of a mutual hatred that lasts for the next decade at least, and “The Hammerhead versus The Spider Man” becomes a popular topic of discussion and speculation in the criminal underworld, law enforcement, civilian social media, and the hero community.

The Method: Unlike many Spider-Men, Peter isn’t explicitly an out and out hero. The last time he had ambitions of heroism, rushing in like Iron Man or Thor or Daredevil, he ended up in the hospital. To the contrary, by imitating the methods of his criminal prey, he achieved results far beyond his most optimistic predictions. In that sense, his spider-motif resembles that of the Portia Jumping Spider, a genus of spider species that hunt and prey on other spiders. His powers reflect this, with his impressive jumping abilities. Also like the Portia spiders, Peter stalks his prey and studies their strengths and weaknesses before developing the perfect way to take them down. Sometimes this comes from capturing sensitive information and delivering it to those who can do the most damage with it. Sometimes this means a more immediate response, like a kick that can ruin somebody’s whole day plus the rest of the week. What really sets Peter apart, though, is the “criminal” empire that he is growing using the resources he steals from his targets. Granted, his “Drug Labs” are churning out generic insulin at affordable prices, but it’s the principle of the thing. Likewise, the sex workers and street walkers in Spider-Man’s “territory” have seen a massive drop in violence once he cornered a particularly belligerent john in an alley and mentioned that a lot of male spiders have their sex organ bitten off by the female.

The Gadgets: Unlike most, if not all, Spider-Men in the multiverse, Peter never came up with the idea of web-shooters or web fluid. He has a number of other tricks up his sleeve, sometimes literally, that fill the vacuum when it comes to mobility, combat, and controlling the combat environment. The most complex of these would have to be his costume, which also diverges dramatically from what other Spider Themed Heroes use, in that it is designed to blend in rather than stand out. The basic suit color scheme is a grey-green mixture that’s hard to see under low-light conditions, and Peter has a number of optional “urban ghillie suits” that can look like grey concrete, brick, rusted steel, or other patterns. He’s also been known to take his enemy’s clothing, but it’s not clear how much of this is intended to help him infiltrate them and turn them on each other and how much of it is just humiliating his defeated foes. His mask incorporates multiple vision enhancement devices, from light amplification to infra-red to sonar and radar, and these give him a multi-eyed appearance in keeping with the spider theme. Defensively and offensively, he has arm-mounted weapons that incorporate compressed air guns that can fire chemical darts at range, and provide a close-range electrical charge to incapacitate people in close combat. (In the early days he carried a literal dart gun and stun gun but kept losing them during fights.) Finally, he carries a small arsenal of counter-intelligence tools designed to let him eavesdrop on targets, clone their cell phones, break into secure areas without leaving signs of forced entry, and jam or intercept enemy communications. All of them are incorporated into his suit. He has ambitions of getting an Octavius Harness, since extra arms would complete the spider motif and also make him far more dangerous in combat, but he can’t afford it and he’s years away from learning how to jailbreak the safety features that Doctor Octavius put on his technology to keep it from being stolen.

The Cover: When he’s not making life interesting for the criminal underworld of New York City, Peter works as a photographer. He’s done contract work for the Daily Bugle, including the occasional shot of this Spider Man character, but most of his income is from people needing photographs of their belongings for insurance reasons. After all, this is a world where superheroes and supervillains go toe-to-toe at least twice a week. He’s done weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, graduations, family reunions, anniversaries, baby gender reveal parties, and more. He’s also done some stuff that would normally be within the purview of a private investigator, despite the legal risks, in order to make ends meet. His social circle is limited to a handful of people who still tolerated him when he was lashing out at the world as a teenager, which is basically a handful of former classmates that have moved on to college, trade school, or something else, especially Miles Morales (who also lost family at a young age), Felicia Hardy, and Eddie Brock. His dating life is non-existant despite multiple attempts by both Eddie and Miles to play matchmaker.

The Rogue’s Gallery: The Spider Man has a long standing antagonism with Hammerhead, but has occasionally faced off against other supervillains and even some superheroes. On the villain side, Peter has defeated an electricity controlling lunatic named Electro, some guy in a rocket assisted flight suit the press called the Vulture, the enigmatic and theatrical Mysterio, and some one or something called the Sand Man. Unfortunately, Peter beat the Sand Man by fusing him into glass, and was not able to pull off the same stunt twice. The former Sand Man, calling himself Vitreous, had to be stopped by the Avengers, and The Spider Man’s role in the creation of a much more dangerous villain is what got him on the radar of so many heroes in the first place. For the most part, he knows he’s outclassed and doesn’t really want to fight people who, in theory, have the same general goals, so he tends to run from these encounters. So far he’s managed to evade Iron Man, Hawkeye, and Oswald Octavius in his superhero alter ego of Doctor Octopus. His encounter with Loki resulted in Peter getting the upper hand in classic trickster legend style, earning the God of Mischief’s respect. In other cases, Peter has not been so lucky; while he managed to escape each time, he’s been almost crushed to death by Giant Man, beaten to a pulp by Captain America, and drop kicked into the East River by the Hulk as if he was some sort of football. He has technically never fought Dr. Strange, but was involved in a fracas between the Sorcerer Supreme, Deadpool, and Dr. Doom that resulted in the Eye of Agomotto being lost for five years; everyone involved has agreed to never speak of what happened again. Finally, there’s the matter of Sean Gargan, an aspiring superhero with Scorpion themed powers who has sworn to bring The Spider Man to justice after his father, Mac Gargan, was injured while The Spider Man was fighting Electro.