#why the fuck could i not access files saved to the computer in the first place

[nukenai]

Well it’s 1am but I absolutely have to finally write one of these posts, don’t read if you don’t wanna be teleported to a sad 1am post of mine from 5 years ago or be consumed by gigacringe (this post is not sad but cw for some as-expected negative mental health stuff/actions I’ll be mentioning, from my past.)

I really don’t think I can even begin to articulate how important Super Mario RPG is to me. When I was a kid - like I’m talking 2006-ish - my Thing(tm) was Earthbound. We didn’t say “fandom” back then. Besides Pokemon and Zelda, it became my THING and I fell so in love with it. A weird part of internet Earthbound culture back then was that you were mad at Super Mario RPG for making Earthbound sell poorly. I know, it’s insane, I was 15 cut me a fucking break.

So yeah that was all intrinsically linked with Smash, obviously. I was online during the pre-release of Brawl days, browsing places like /v/, and there was all this talk of this guy Geno. I didn’t know who Geno was! One time I did a Deviantart Journal “quiz” thing, and one question was, “Who is a video game character you hate?” My response was “I dunno, that Geno guy”. A friend of mine at the time was like “??? Like SMRPG Geno? How could you hate him?” and me being a teenager, I was like well, I’m annoyed that everyone talks about him.

Stuff got weird pretty quickly. An artist I had a goofy little crush on drew Geno. And I went, huh. Okay.

Then Brawl came out. I won’t even get into all of that because this is about SMRPG, but people ripped data off the disks and found unused stuff. Like unused music. I was mad about the unused Earthbound music, and the Ballad of the Wind Fish. Boo!

But then someone made a fun little album, called “Brawl - The Lost Tracks”. They got together “as official as possible” versions of the songs that had gone unused and only existed as text files on the disk. This included Beware the Forest’s Mushrooms (I’ve made angry posts before about how wrong the Cutting Room Floor page is about this track NOT being BTFM - ask me about it sometime and I’ll start screaming)

So one day I downloaded this little album. And I remember exactly where I was sitting, I listened to a couple of the EB songs like yeah, alright. Then there was a nice remix of the ballad of the wind fish. Then I saw beware the forest’s mushrooms and I thought, well. Why not. It’s a song. I like music.

It was the official arrange from the arrangement album. Until Memoria it was 100% the most beautiful rendition of the song to ever exist. And I lost my goddamn mind. I had never heard a song so gorgeous and I was instantly so upset with myself for being such a stubborn dork about SMRPG for so long (imagine that, me, stubborn!!)

So it all kinda hit me like a truck. I remember the day I first saved a piece of Geno fanart, like a day after I heard the song, and I was GOT. I thought oh, maybe he’s kinda cute, and it all just spiraled into hell. When I was a kid I was all into people drawing him as a Cool Anime Bishounen, but now I’m extremely cool and am like “Doll only, please!” unless it’s the goofy cute human design I have for him. But really I prefer doll. ANYWAYS.

During my high school years my life was... uh, rough. I was dealing with domestic violence in my home and we were more than once kicked out of our house and had to scramble to find a place to stay temporarily. While I was still just going to classes. I wound up failing my 11th grade English class because I often didn’t have access to a computer with internet or a printer and couldn’t do my assignments. My teacher didn’t ask why I was suddenly not finishing assignments, she just failed me. I went to summer school and it wound up being one of the best experiences of my life though. So, you know.

Throughout all this bullshit I like, had Geno. I had a reason to look up at the starry sky and make wishes and track meteor showers. It was something to like, keep my going again. Unsurprisingly I was DEEPLY struggling with my mental health. I was self-harming, and was just in general doing Very Fucking Not Great and felt like I had nowhere to turn. To this day my family like, doesn’t let me talk about this situation, and I received no help or support from any of them during this. Things are better now, but holy fuck, man. It was just my mom and I dealing with domestic violence and homelessness and no one was helping us.

But I had him. I had the “will he be in Smash someday?” shit. I had the Smash speculation community. I had SMRPG fans who were all like-minded cool people who loved how much I loved Geno, because they loved him too! He was like a fucking life raft for me in one of the worst periods of my whole existence and always felt like an anchor when things were spiraling out of control.

And it feels so corny to talk about it, because oh Nuke, you’re always dramatic about characters. But damn, did it fucking hurt when “friends” were just straight up fucking mean to me about Smash stuff for years on end. Damn did it hurt when I tried to express how important this shit was to me, and it was written off as me being ridiculous about a Video Game, you know? Would therapy have been good? Maybe. I tried it as an adult after being pressured into it by my ex and it was an actual nightmare because the only therapist in my area with hours compatible with my job who took my insurance was like 24 years old and told me straight to my face she didn’t want to talk about things I liked because she didn’t understand them. So maybe not! But I had this something, something so important to me, and it felt like everyone around me was so fucking Tired of me caring so much about something. It felt like everyone was tired of ME. And I was tiring of myself too, and it fucking sucked! It really did.

A couple years ago I finally let go of all the rage and sorrow in my heart and I’ve been doing so, so well. I found myself so suddenly surrounded by people who fucking care about me, and who are like “Oh, I don’t know that character, tell me about them! You love them so much!”, and people who invite me over to their house to just sit and watch Transformers or build model kits. People tell me to my face “I don’t think you’re annoying” when I compare myself to Rodimus, and I get actively invited to things. Wow! It’s been so fucking NICE. It sucks to have such nightmares in my past to compare this all to, but man, the difference is insane.

So it’s like. I wanted this to happen years ago. I wanted them to announce a SMRPG remake, or something, a few years ago when I was at my worst, when people were treating me like shit, when friends of my SO were being huge assholes to me only for my SO to say “hmm I think you’re making that up because you’re dramatic”.

But it didn’t. And I got through everything with my own strength. And now I’m at my absolute best, and I get this now. I get it once I’ve moved past all those miserable negative people who treated me like garbage. I don’t have to rub it in their faces and be like “Look, I got this far, I’ve made it and I won over all the SHIT”. Because none of them are here anymore and they don’t matter to me.

I got so many messages across all my social medias, even from people who I haven’t actually spoken to in some time (but still exist in internet circles with, you know how online friendships are), so many people saying oh my god, Nuke, I’m so happy for you, holy shit congratulations, this is amazing I can’t believe it.

I love you all so fucking much, I love Super Mario RPG so fucking much, all of you and this game are so important to me I don’t even know if 4k more words of rambling nonsense can express it. I am at such a good place in my life now, I want to spread that positivity and do my best to be good to people and to the world that has been so good to me these past few years. Despite how this year started, it hasn’t felt like a negative shroud over me. Just another challenge to overcome, and I’ve overcome literally everything put in front of me so far. Nothing is phasing me anymore and I’m doing so GREAT.

I’m so happy the remake is happening at a time when I’m at my best. I didn’t need anyone to save me before, and now this will just lift me higher. And I can truly enjoy it, as a joyful gift, as opposed to hoping it will be a life raft getting me out of a flood. I can truly enjoy it for what it is and what it’s meant to be.

A beautiful, delightful, very funny little video game, about Mario and all his weird little friends.

I don’t think I’ll even mind having to say goodbye to Geno at the end, again. Because I know now, there’s nothing stopping him from coming back.

And hey, SMRPG’s not a very long game. I can always replay it. And Geno will always be there.

Always.

[layanasstories]

Rise up!

Part 2

----

Two weeks ago

----

The first week wasn’t so bad. It was easy even, a lonely guy like Jake is easily wrapped around my finger. First create some trust, then ask simple but personal questions. Flirt a bit and bingo! I had his name and the color of his hair. How many Jake’s with black hair are there that are into the computer business. Enough for sure, but I bet it helps to narrow down the search criteria. Of course as agreed upon, I send my information to the number that was written in the memo. But I made a mistake, a huge mistake. What started of as a tactic to get information ended in me falling for this mystery guy.

I fell hard, like all the way. I don’t know when it happened. I guess the spark did happen when we had our first small talk. Or maybe when he told me about him being chased by the government. I don’t know and actually I don’t care. I pretended that I didn’t get anymore information out of him. That he closed off and stopped talking about personal things. Only when he had to flee and his puzzle for me and his sister was solved, I knew I made a huge mistake. I had to add a number to my phone, the same as on the file I got. My phone and my other devices where protected by his software. And that, was the big mistake. The people I work for, noticed too. I didn’t know they where really monitoring all my activities, at least I thought not my online activities, but they did. Furthermore they tried to gain access again, hacking, to bypass his security. They failed at the end, their last try was my camera. They gave a warning, the guy pointing at me, was for me not for Jake. That did bring a shiver down my spine, reminding me what was at stake. That’s when the conflict in me arose between saving my brother or saving Jake. To many times was I doubting, weighing what to do. The relieve I felt when Jake was safe, made me question everything over and over again. Why did I take this case, why didn’t I tell them to fuck off. Well my brother of course.

I played my game again, making Jake trusting me more. Make him fall in love even deeper. I felt dirty and evil for doing so. Not only because of his feelings, but mine as well. The deeper he fell, the deeper I fell. I almost had him, he almost ran his mouth about his hiding place. The motel he was at, I almost had him spill it, but he didn’t. He didn’t lie about it either, that’s just it. This guy, my guy, never lied, not once. Always told me what the deal was. And the only thing I am doing, was lying my ass off to him. Well not everything I said was a lie. I did like him, still do. I love him. The more we grew close, the more I was disgusted with myself. There were moments I hoped the man without a face found me, to finish it all. For me that is, I truly hoped Jake would get his sister back. And still, I told my employers everything. About Hannah being his sister, about her father cheating on his mother. That Jake is the oldest of the three, not sure how much older than them. Another thing for on the list of search criteria. I couldn’t risk them to prematurely ending my brothers life.

There were so many times I wanted to give up, then Jake asked me “How far is it, when it comes to someone’s life?”. I told him I couldn’t answer, I really couldn’t. He thought I talked about his sister, but I wasn’t talking about her. I knew for some time who was behind her kidnapping, but to catch Jake, I had to dawdle. I needed more information about him, I needed something to catch him, so my brother could get free. Unfortunately I was held up in my information search, when my main suspect was killed. It made me doubt everything and anything. Did I really knew who the kidnapper was? Did I really thought I could get through with this. I never had to see someone die. Let alone in such a manner. The anger took over from me, the powerlessness, it killed me inside. As a consequence I took it out on Jake. He didn’t deserve that, what he was doing was exactly what I was doing. Putting his own interest first, like I put mine first. Only, my interest shifted per day, hell per hour. The moment I had made up my mind who was my interest, something comes along. Like a picture of my brother as a reminder why I am doing all of this. Or Jake sending me his lovely sweet words, making me fall again. The torn between both men, my heart and my head, it’s driving me insane. And yet while me getting at him, that it was all his fault someone died, he listened, he supported me. He let me rage, say all those ugly things to him. He never judged me, he should have, but he didn’t. I guess I do know when it happened. It happened right there and then, that I fell for him.

[the-best-bagel]

I got a new computer for school and I had to turn every fucking techy cloud future feature off for it to be usable

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

��Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[dragonmuse]

Your Ledaverse always made my day better :) so thank you for it. Is there any chance about kitten-update in the future?

(I had an anxious day and I want to write about cats and the people who might as well be cats, so you are finally in luck!)

"Why?" Jim asked with a sigh when they spotted Sweeney in the window sill.

"Gotta take him to the vet after work," Izzy shrugged. "So he's hanging out here. Saves me time going back to the apartment and he gets to envision murdering new birds."

"What if he jumps on me?"

"You'll probably die," Izzy said mildly. "And I can collect on that life insurance policy finally."

"Have fun winning that case in court.” They slid into their chair eyeing the cat. “Something wrong with him?”

“His right eye keeps clogging up and leaking. And it’s no pleasure to wipe off.”

“Really? Is that bad?” Their computer booted up with a whir.

“Probably some kind of infection.” He glanced at his email then opened up the report he’d been working on for an ongoing client on some hiring prospects. "He had something like that when I first got him."

Sweeney was pleased with his new domain, investigating the corners of the room and butting up against all the furniture to mark it with intense thoroughness. Eventually he got to Jim’s boots and sat down, accessing. Jim tensed but their eyes stayed on their screen.

Then Sweeney came around and started eyeing up their desk. Izzy probably could’ve prevented the jump, but he was idly curious about what would happen. The cat landed neatly, not upsetting anything on the surface. He then sat and watched Jim intently, tail lashing back and forth.

“What?” Jim demanded after a few minutes of probably near unblinking yellow eyes.

“If he answers you let me know so I can start your medical leave forms.”

“He’s staring at me!”

“Yeah he does that.”

“Why?”

“Why do you do it?”

Jim’s nose wrinkled up and they stared back at the cat. Sweeney allowed that for some time before getting up and stalking across the desk to put his face as close as he could to Jim’s. The rusty purr started up.

Tentatively, Jim put out their hand. It was so slow that Sweeney didn’t startle, just observed and when it was close enough, butted violently against it.

Jim glanced up at Izzy who managed to look every busy and not at all monitoring the situation. So he was rewarded by the immensely awkward moment of Jim figuring out how to pet a cat. Sweeney helped by running himself against their fingers where he wanted the attention.

He also saw Jim smile fractionally when Sweeney sat his butt down on their keyboard.

“No no, “ Jim scolded. “I need that.”

Sweeney considered that, then lay down across it and started purring harder.

“Send me the Wallas file?” Izzy asked mostly just to be a dick.

“Your fucking cat is in the way.”

“So you’ll tackle a linebacker but the six pound cat defeated you?”

“He’s got more knives then me,” Jim protested.

“Just give his butt a shove, he’ll move.”

Jim hesitated then gently shoved at Sweeney, who shot them a look but did get up and wander around the other half of the desk untill Jim started working again. Then circled back to but his head against their arm.

“You’re a pain in the ass just like your damn owner,” Jim informed Sweeney. “Buzz off.”

Sweeney considered that then hooked his claws into the arm of Jim’s sweater and hiked himself up to investigate while Jim muttered something dire in Spanish. Apparently Jim's shoulder made a good perch, steady and warm because Sweeney stayed there for some time while Jim pretended to grumble about it without ever trying dislodge him.

By the time lunch rolled around, Sweeney had ensconced himself next to Jim on the office chair, head resting on their thigh while Jim carefully rubbed his ear between two of their fingers.

"I brought pastrami today, yes or no?" Izzy offered.

"Yeah, thanks."

Izzy brought his chair to them and Jim opened a new tab.

The Price Is Right came on and they both relaxed into the patter as they ate their sandwiches. They did not discuss their mutual game show habit. It's discovery had been accidental and the consumption happened strictly at meals. Within the first few minutes, they started yelling answers at the contestants. It was extremely cathartic.

Sweeney purred on happily.

[tainted-wine]

I didn’t apply all of these descriptions but these are the main three I had in mind while writing this. How did I attract so many fans of the crusty boi? Either way, welcome to the club!

Words: 1.5k (how the hell did that happen there’s barely any sex)

---------------------

The website didn’t explain what the “LOVER” cheat does. Probably unlocks a deleted path that didn’t make it into the official game. Or maybe he just gets a head-start on his Affection progress with you at the very beginning. Or maybe it doesn’t do shit – that could be why there’s no explanation.

Well, now that he knows how to do it, it wouldn’t hurt to test it himself. Shigaraki absently scratches at the irritated skin on his neck as he boots up the game. The directions were fairly simple and easy to remember.

1. Start a brand new file.

Ugh, he despises games that hold only one save file. It’s not like a visual novel holds up much space. What if you want different files in order to experiment with different choices? It doesn’t matter in his case anyway; he 100% completed the game months ago. With no regrets, his original game was deleted and a new one began.

> What is your name?

He might as well stick with the one he used last time.

‘SHIGGY-SENPAI’

The introduction cutscene began, the protagonist going on about the new town he just moved into. Pretty by-the-books, as far as romance openings go.

2. Finish the intro. Once you meet Y/N, go to the menu. 

After skipping through a bunch of fluffy dialogue, you finally appear in all of your cute glory. Once you’re done introducing yourself, Shigaraki brings up the main menu.

3. Type in “LOVER”

Just like that? Alright then...

Right after inputting the final letter, a sparkly ping sound straight out of a magical girl anime could be heard, and that was it. Okay...it sounds like he did it correctly.

When he returned to the game, his success was much more evident. You were staring directly at the screen - almost through the screen - with a glowing expression he’s never seen. Each and every one of your reactions have been seared into his brain after so many hours of gameplay. This was new.

“You...do you really mean that, SHIGGY-SENPAI?”

What? Voice acting? Though you did say his name pretty stiffly, as expected when a computer tries to pronounce custom text, but what the hell? Why would this be hidden as a cheat?

“But it’s so soon, and I’m not very experienced...” You blushed and shyly twiddled your fingers.

Oh.

“But I already trust you, and I want you too.”

Oh.

It’s that kind of path.

A hidden adult route. Shigaraki really likes that, even though this would’ve had a much stronger impact if it happened on his original file, the one where he was fully bonded to you. Sucks that he needs a fresh file in order to fuck you.

Shit, he’s not even prepared for this. Maybe he should go grab the lotion and a couple of tissues, assuming that this special scene will make for pretty decent fap material.

But the dialogue continued automatically. You creeped closer to the screen as you gushed about your feelings for him. “I want to make love to you forever and ever!”

You were getting really close, and with a show of impressive animation, your hand reached out to touch the fourth wall...

And the screen began to distort and ripple.

What the fuck?

“I just can’t wait to feel your amazing cock.” Your fingers began to phase through the fucking computer screenWHAT THE FUCK?!

“Take me, SHIGGY-SENPAI!”

Just like that, a full-sized bitch materialized out of the game and onto his lap, nearly toppling his gamer chair.

Even in the darkness of his room, your eyes shined brightly as they studied his pale face. “You’re even more handsome up close!”

Shigaraki was still too stunned to even respond to the rare compliment. Only when you began to pull down his pants did he finally find his voice again.

“Wha–ah–who the–hey!” He knows that he shouldn’t be afraid of a hottie touching his cock but ooooh shit she’s already stroking him.

“Ah, you’re so big!” You stared at his untouched manhood in awe, watching him become more erect after every pump of your soft hand.

“Fuck, am I?” He gasped.

“Mmhmm! And I bet you’re really tasty too!” You say before he’s suddenly engulfed with the very real warmth of a mouth.

Fuck fuck fuck he isn’t gonna last. He was ready to jerk off, not actually get his dick sucked. It feels more amazing than he ever imagined, your tongue working along his sensitive flesh, and those lips sucking at him so eagerly.

When his hand grabs the top of your head, he realizes too late that all five of his fingers are tangled in your hair.

You nearly fall over from how suddenly Shigaraki rolls back in his chair. You look shocked, confused, and...very much not a pile of dust.

“What’s wrong, SHIGGY-SENPAI?”

He looked at his hands, then at you, then at his hands again.

Then he takes hold of your face and shoves you back into his groin, because he can touch you, he can touch another fucking living thing without any worries about completely destroying it. Must be some crazy logic about you being data from a videogame or something. He doesn’t care, he’s so horny, feels so good having his cock so far down a hot tight throat, he just might burst...

Wait, he might have just done exactly that.

“Ah, shit,” he watches you pull back and swallow with the most satisfied grin.

“That was quick, SHIGGY-SENPAI!” You really need to stop saying his name like that. It’s fuckin’ weird. “I didn’t even get to feel you inside me.”

“Shut up,” the mixture of emotions he’s been experiencing ever since your ass crawled out of the screen like a girl in a cursed video is starting to piss him off. He’s so insulted and thankful that this fictional bitch gave him his first blowjob and made him nut in the span of sixty seconds. “Just give me a few minutes.” 

A few knocks on the room’s door startles both of you.

“Tomura, the Vanguard Action Squad is ready to move out.”

Shit!

“I’ll be out in a damn minute, Kurogiri.” Shigaraki moves to get out of his seat, only to be stopped by his new partner.

Your sparkly puppy eyes are so grossly cute, yet it has his dick twitching again already. “Are you leaving me already, SHIGGY-SENPAI?”

“Quit saying my name in all caps.”

“Okay, ˢʰᶦᵍᵍʸ⁻ˢᵉⁿᵖᵃᶦ.”

“Not like that. I can barely hear it.”

“How about SHIGGY-SENPAI?”

He slaps a hand over your mouth. “Just stop saying my name.”

A much harsher knock rocks the old door. “Hey, you ugly bastard,” That sounded like the Dabi asshole. “The hell are you doing in there? Jacking off to anime girls?”

Shigaraki scoffed. When’s the last time that burnt Stain fanboy got his dick sucked?

As much as he wants to join in on terrorizing the brats at U.A, he really wants to get laid today.

“Just go without me!” He yells through the walls. He nearly misses your muted squeak of joy.

“Eh?” Hearing Dabi’s annoyed muffled voice was pretty amusing. “You’re just gonna sit on your ass in your room while we do the work?”

The villain’s retort catches in his throat when you take his hand and begin to slowly lick at his fingers, all while pinning him with an innocent gaze.

“Your fingers are so pretty,” You whispered.

It’s so difficult to pay attention to the words being uttered outside of the room while his hands are being placed on your chest. BOOBS.

“Please trust Tomura. I’m sure he has faith in you all handling this mission on your own,” Kurogiri tries to explain. Shigaraki knows him well enough to know that he’s probably irritated as well, but there are titties in his hands so who gives a fuck.

Dabi releases an exasperated groan. “I knew this whole League of Villains thing was bullshit. Shouldn’t have bothered.”

Shigaraki slows his exploration of your breasts to shout, “If I make you the leader of the mission, will you shut up?”

“......Yes.”

“Well, I pronounce you leader of the Vanguard Action Squad. I’ll even give you a Nomu. Have fun.” The two of you are rushing to lift your shirt off for better access to your skin.

“Fuck yeah,” Dabi’s voice is still fairly close. The sooner he pisses off, the better. “I can probably pull this off better than you, anyway. Come on, psycho girl, we’re gonna go round up everyone else.”

Toga can be heard squealing excitedly as they both step away and finally give him his privacy back. You look absolutely lovestruck by the entire exchange.

“You gave up an important mission just for me? You really do love me!” 

He just rolled his eyes and lowered his head to take a hardened nipple into his mouth, enjoying your sounds of delight.

He can’t wait for the next time he faces those stupid heroes. He’ll be smarter, stronger, and can even tell them that he got his dick wet.

Oh, the collapse of hero society is going to be glorious.

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: You raid the Flag Smasher's base with Walker and Hoskins, bringing back unwanted memories.

Word Count: 2701 (sorry lol)

Reader: Female

Warning: non-con kissing, nudity, blood

Author's Note: lmk for taglist

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

=====

“Ich habe keine Ahnug, wovon du sprichst.” The man sternly says, taking a step to size up Hoskins. “Ihr Amerikaner seid brutal geworden.” He insults causing you to tense, but in a way you knew he was right and it frustrated you. The GRC had good intentions but they didn’t understand what these people were going through.

Hell, you didn’t understand what they were going through. When Steve and the Avengers took you in, it wasn’t exactly a bad situation compared to what others had to deal with during the Blip. Especially with the ones who came back to nothing to their name anymore. The volunteer work made you realize that and it conflicted you. The Flag Smashers had a worthy cause and they were banding together in the wrong way.

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit!” Walker whines out causing you to tense. The tone wasn’t nice and you knew the three of you didn’t come all the way to Germany for nothing. He was getting angry, there was something here and something he had to prove. “We know she came through here. Now, where’d she go?” He demands, his voice threatening.

The man directs his attention to the Captain and looks him up and down. Walker’s stance straightens and you can see his fist balled at his sides. Over the short time of getting to know the new Captain America, you could tell he was falling apart a bit in this situation. Honestly, he wasn’t the worse guy when it came down to the bare bones of things but power can do wonders to a corrupt mind.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when the German fellow spits on America’s new golden boy. The blonde lets out a sigh, showing he was physically restraining himself to jump on the guy. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes narrowing and his head tilted towards the target. The look was the familiar that made your mind flashback to the countless times a Hydra official gave the same look.

Mind going into autopilot, the boys separate like they’ve done these a million times. You stalk forward and brace your forearm, shoving the man back and holding him against the pillar behind him.

“Do you know who I am?” Walker screams out from behind you making you snap back to reality. You immediately release him and step back, the blonde taking your spot in front of him with a threatening gaze.

“Yes I do, and I don’t care.” The man spits back and you see a shift in Walker’s eyes. There was a flash of hurt then it switched to frustration, quickly regaining his facade, blocking out any emotion in his eyes. He leans forward slightly and you think he’s about to punch the guy but he steps back.

The officers start to cuff the man while Walker whispers something to Hoskins and then walks away. You watched with a dazed expression on your face, not believing you fell back into your old ways so quickly with just one gaze. There was a part of you still stuck in your past that you didn’t know about until Walker had you join him in this assignment. It frightened you.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder bringing you out of your negative thoughts. Looking up, you see Hoskin’s kind eyes. “You okay?” He asks in a sincere tone which slightly surprises you. The little voice in the back of your head told you that it was just him trying to manipulate you like they used to and that it was their fault that you were back into all this however a much louder one says otherwise.

You shake your head, forcing a tight-lipped smile to appear on your face. “Yea,” You breathe out and slowly repeat the mantra your therapist had taught you years ago. He stands there for a moment, the internal battle in his mind playing in his eyes.

“I know this isn’t the ideal situation for you but we really do appreciate your help.” His grip on your shoulder tightens in a comforting manner. “I understand Walker hasn’t been the… kindest to you and I can’t apologize for him. He’s still figuring this stuff out, I promise he isn’t always this much of an asshole.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. You never thought how much stress this could be on him. He went from a normal life to being thrown into this hero thing with the title and responsibility Steve took years to build up. It was a lot for him and he didn’t need you reminding him of what he wasn’t.

Hoskins notices your demeanor change and releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He takes his hand off of you and takes a glance toward the hallway where his best friend left then to his left where all the Flag Smashers computers laid out unattended. “I heard you’re pretty good with intel.”

You let out an ironic chuckle, of course, he chose his moment to bring that up. “You had to ruin it.” An apologetic look comes across his face and you wave it off, knowing that it’s time to get back to the task at hand. “Go after your boyfriend, I’ll see what I can do.”

He rolls his eyes at your comment before jogging off to follow Walker. A small smile sneaks its way onto your lips as you watch him leave. It was nice to get an insight on Walker and have a little banter with Hoskins. It made you relax, feeling that you were no longer a hostage in a pretend game of hero.

The police officers around you start collecting what minimal things were in the Flag Smasher’s base. They grab the files in the cabinets, the food they have in the other room, and they even grab the goddamn chairs. They weren’t leaving any stone unturned when it came to this and you understood why... this was Walker’s first mission leading as Captain America and he wasn’t going to mess it up. Your heart goes out to him but that didn’t mean you liked him.

You hold up a hand to the man in uniform as he goes to take the laptop, signaing that you wanted to use it. He nods in understanding and moves to collect other objects. Plopping down on the metal chair, you turn and start typing away.

=====

The room was luxurious like the rest of the mansion. The walls were high, windows extending from the floor to ceiling, giving a breathtaking view of the landscape behind the home. It was a bedroom, a large California king against the wall opposite of the windows. A large desk with a dramatic-looking chair sat near the bathroom causes an evil smile to appear.

“Here it is.” The American turns around while holding his arms out.

“Wunderschön.” You respond, forcing an astonished look on your face. The dark-haired man furrows his eyebrows in response. “Uh… very pretty.” You pretend to struggle with your English to keep up the persona your file had described. He gleams at the compliment and moves to close the distance between the two of you.

He slips his hand around your waist, pressing his body against your scantily clad one. You wanted nothing more than to push him off and slit his throat but your bosses would be punish you for not following the mission orders. Especially when he starts trailing kisses down your neck.

You throw your head back and allow him access though. The kisses and nips were numb on your skin as you lazily trail your eyes around the room. The black dress left no room to hide anything so that meant anything pointy had to be disgusted in your purse… which was left on the dresser next to the closed door. You inwardly cringe at your mistake, saving it in the back of your head for future undercover missions.

There was no chance to lead him back to the entrance so you had to think fast. Gently pushing the man away, he doesn’t take the hint to get off of you and attaches his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in surprise but you quickly recover.

He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and it made your stomach turn. Finally, he pulls away and you take the opportunity to look up at him through your lashes. That was enough for him to start fiddling with the zipper on your back. You let out an airy giggle at the way he struggles with it.

“Here.” You turn around and pull your long hair over your shoulder to give him better access. He hums out and starts to pull the metal tag down. Mind trailing off again, your eyes land on the laptop on his desk. The object of the whole reason why you were here.

The mission assigned was simple since it was your first undercover mission for Hydra. They thought you would be a good candidate considering you were young and “perky” in their words. Having no other choice than to compromise, they dressed you up and gave an identity to play as to get close enough to take the information off the computer.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see a glimmer of light bounce off something in the corner of the room. The man paid no mind to it as it was a coincidence to your dress hitting the floor and the cold A/C of the room hitting your skin. You squint your eyes and try to make out the figure but it’s interrupted by the man spinning you around and throwing you onto the bed.

You stare wide eyed up at the man while he stands above you. A feeling of fear courses through your body at the thought of what’s about to come. The original plan was to sneak off with the target and tranq him but you fucked it up. The boss was going to have your ass if you didn’t figure out a way to get to that laptop.

You didn’t want to do anything further with this sleazeball but you also didn’t want to starve for the next few days. Closing your eyes, you wait for it all the happen. You’ve endured worse at the hands of Hydra so this would sadly come easy for you to block out.

A loud gunshot rings through the room and you feel something warm splatter across your body. Your eyes snap open in a panic to figure out what just happened. The man who was once hovering over you is now lying on the floor with a bullet in his head, blood pooling underneath him. Slowly, your gaze trails up to your own body causing your breath the hitch in your throat once again. Dots of blood litter your skin and undergarments which only meant--

“Are you okay?” A raspy voice calls out, one that you’ve never heard before. A piece of cloth comes into view, the metal hand attached to it surprises you. The Soldier has never shown this type of kindness to you, well anyone, before and it made you nervous. You hesitantly grab the wet cloth from him and start wiping the blood off of your body.

His stare was directed on the floor to give you some type of privacy. It was weird that the Soldier was showing you such care that you didn’t even think could be possible. You knew of his story, a brainwashed POW victim that was programmed to kill. But here he was, waiting patiently for you with your dress in his hand.

Once cleaned up, you stand up and bump into him. His head turns to you causing you to melt instead of flinching away like you usually would. His piercing blue eyes send a shiver down your spine. There was emotion in them. Concern.

Carefully, you reach out and place a hand on the metal appendage. The Soldier’s body immediately relaxes under the foreign soft touch. “Thank you, Soldat.” You whisper out, fearing that any hostility would send him back to his murderous state. Something flashes behind his eyes as he nods in response.

You wake up with a gasp, blankets are long forgotten on the floor. Your chest was heaving up and down as you try to compose yourself from the memory that forced itself into your dream. It’s been a while since you had a nightmare and you were confused. Maybe going back into the field wasn’t good for you. It was bringing back the part of you that you worked so hard to get past.

The abrupt sound of a phone ringing makes you flinch. You reach around blindly until your hand feels the cool touch of your phone laying on the bed next to you. Not even looking at the screen, you slide the green bubble and bring it up to your cheek.

“Hello?” You answer, cringing at how weak you sound.

“(Y/N).”

You close your eyes and release a deep breath, your body physically relaxing at the familiar voice. “Yea, what’s up, Buck?”

“We haven’t heard from you all day, we were wondering how this morning went. Did you find anything?” His tone was soft and steady in contrast to the bustling of the environment behind him.

You shake your head and bring your hand up to run it through your messy hair, “No, not of importance. I went through their laptop but most of the significant information was remotely deleted or something… Found the files but not the documents.” You shrug and fall back onto the pillows behind you. His hum is followed by comfortable silence… until you hear someone whine in the background.

“Are you gonna talk to her or are you gonna sit there like lovesick teen-- Hey, not with the metal arm!” Sam is cut off with what you assume is Bucky slapping him. You giggle at the sound of metal hitting concrete. “Jesus, man, you’re crazy.”

“I won’t miss next time.” Bucky threatens with his teeth clenched, you can imagine him pointing his finger at him with a scowl on his face. The silence resumes while you stare at the lamp on the bedside table. “Are you okay? You’re oddly quiet.”

You hesitate for a moment, your dream flashing in your head. “Yea.” You softly confess, “Just had a weird dream.”

He waits for you to elaborate, knowing you would do the same for him.

“Hydra.”

“Oh,” He lets out a breath and takes a few moments before continuing, “I’ve been having some of those too.” He admits, “More than usual, I guess. Being back out here is triggering some memories and not the normal ones.”

A sense of relief washes over you at his confession. Knowing he was going through the same thing sends a pang to your heart but it was a good thing to know you weren’t alone.

“Well, I have to head out. We have a possible led and we need to check it out before it’s too late.” Bucky announces, you frown. It was nice to be able to talk over the phone with him even though you saw him recently and you didn’t want it to end. “Text me if you need anything, doll, I’m only a message away.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his nickname for you. “Same for you, Buck… Be careful.”

“When am I not careful?” He chuckles out, you can hear Sam snort and mumble something in the background. “I didn’t ask you, Wilson.”

“Just, please, be safe.” You beg, you knew the two didn’t have any restraints and would do whatever it took to get the information they needed. Sam has broken the law for him once and you’re sure he would do it again for a good cause. “I…” You hesitate for a second, the words you wanted to say didn’t come out. “I don’t know what I would do if something bad happened to you…”

“Don’t worry about me, doll.” He tries to calm your nerves but there’s a twinge of nervousness in his tone that makes you uneasy. “I promise.”

_____

taglist: @crowleysqueenofhell @mischiefmanaged71 @thewinterrbucky @lizajane3 @ahahafudge @spookycereal-s @a-girl-who-loves-disney @kittengirl998 @ sebby-staan @felicityofbakerstreet @sltwins @tanyaherondale

[dulafer]

TWIN REVENGE

This is an old one, just thought I’d share..... Its of my shortest stories. Any feedback appreciated - dclouser@mac.com 

REUNION

I’ve always been the odd twin out. Will and I were both named William C. Witt with the only difference being our middle names – Charles and Conner. I’ve never liked being called ‘Willy’ while William preferred ‘Will’. Growing up, our parents couldn’t tell us apart - we even have the same birthmark on our chins. 

I’ve always been jealous of Will for being the favorite. Many times, I’d answer to my brother’s name on purpose or force Will to swap places with me. The first time I was Will was when he was failing algebra in 9th grade and didn’t want our parents to find out. We swapped places so I could take his tests. My condition was that I stay as him for the day – soaking up my parent’s adoration and love. Will was definitely our parent’s favorite which pissed me off the older I got, often lashing out for attention. In high school I started impersonating my brother to get him in trouble. Sometimes, I would get caught because my brother would have an alibi with friends backing him up, or I’d would slip up wearing my hair differently or some other little detail. 

By our junior year, I started hanging with another group of friends and dealing drugs. My reputation for trouble followed me as my ‘business’ grew. Will knew what I was up to because people would mistake him for their dealer. Weeks before graduation, the principal caught me selling drugs red handed, thanks to a tip from Will. Since Witts are a powerful family, Dad worked a deal to allow me to graduate on the condition that I spend the summer in rehab.  The deal was made and the day after graduation, Dad drove me to the rehab center. I lasted a week before escaping and never being seen again.

My drug pals smuggled me out of Los Angeles to northern California.  San Francisco was the perfect spot for me. With my college age looks, I blend in on local high school and college campuses where my business grew exponentially. I wear the college gear that fit the campuses I was working daily. I’ve always been thrifty with my earnings and always a light user myself so I saved my money for a future free of drugs. When I can, I sit in on college classes, mostly political science since my father was always drilling politics into Will and I. 

Will on the other hand, was the perfect son. He attended college for political science, becoming a staunch conservative. But Will wasn’t always perfect. After two years in college, he dropped out and was hired at Prager U as a campus correspondent to interview students and follow trends. Will quickly picked up a fan base nationally and within months was buying a condo and new car – with the help of a proud rich father. Will travels the country giving speeches, interviewing people and blogging.

Mom and dad have all but forgotten about me. I faked my own death and changed my name when I heard my family was looking for me.  It was convincing enough that the Witts even had a funeral for me. 

CAMPUS LIFE

I’m at Stanford University working my regular ‘route’, supporting my boys with product. A few girls spot me, come running over and one screams. “Oh my god, Will! I’m your biggest fan.” 

I wonder why they’re calling me Will and fawning over me? “Hi, thank you so much.”

“We can’t wait to hear you speak.  You going to do a ‘man on the street’?” the other one squeals.

“Sure am.” Not knowing what that is even. I see one of my boys coming over for his weekly stash. “Excuse me ladies, I’m meeting an old friend.”

Tyler comes over with his usual swagger carrying his backpack. “Do I have competition bro?”

“No, not at all! You know you’re my main man.” We do his frat’s handshake. Anyone watching us would see us both in Stanford gear and just assume we’re students. We take a seat on a nearby bench, talk business, two minutes later, he’s leaving with my backpack full of drugs.

I walk around campus, wondering about those two girls calling me Will.  When I get to the campus hub, I see my face plastered all over the board. The flyers reads ‘Will Witt, Prager University, Topic: Campus Diversity’. I pull one off the board, fold it up and place it in my backpack pocket. I’ll be damned, my little brother in town. I have to see this for myself.

I get home and study the flyer, find the Prager U site and start watching my brother’s videos. We’re so alike with our political beliefs – neither of us have fallen far from our father’s tree. We both have the same attitudes and beliefs as good old dad. He even sounds like dad did, around the dinner table our entire life. I then log into his Instagram account, using Will’s password he’s been using for a decade. I’m getting envious of my brother’s life – he’s still the golden boy and I’m sure dad is super proud of him. He’s traveling all over the world thanks to this Prager gig. On top of that, he’s become famous on Fox and other mediums for being very articulate and full of energy. 

As I watch him, I’m getting very envious of Will. I’m as smart and talented as my brother. I could have been the favorite son, the celebrity.  ‘Should be, could be, will be.’ I think to myself. That should be my life.

The next day, I head to a theater supply store and buy a fake belly, beard/mustache and some make up. I’ve got to see my brother in action today. Will is scheduled to do a ‘man on the street’ interview on campus this afternoon, then the speech later tonight. 

I show up for his man on the street interview but hang way back, out of sight of Will. With my disguise, I’ve gained 50lbs, a full beard, sunglasses and wearing a tie dyed hoodie. I watch and listen as Will, his producer and camera man set up everything. I record everything with a shotgun microphone - hearing the back and forth banter between Will, his cameraman Gavi and Mike, his producer. That evening, I attend the lecture in another disguise just to be safe. I’ve haven’t seen Will in over two years but he’s still the same arrogant Will in private. In public he’s very friendly and charming. As I’m listening to Will speak, a plan starts to formulate in the back of my mind. Willy is already dead to the world, so why not become Will. It’s not like I’m inexperienced in doing it. It would always piss Will off when I would steal his identity and fool his girlfriends. While he was taking a shower, I would get dressed first, take his clothes, phone, car and pick up his girlfriend who was clueless. Will would be pissed but I would apologize and he would forgive me. One time Will called his girlfriend while I was impersonating him and couldn’t convince her that he was actually Will – I was that good. 

I start tracking my brother via his emails, calendar and social media. Will is flying from Los Angeles to Washington for a week, with Turning Point USA to promote Prager U and himself. Our parents will also be gone on vacation to Europe for months, with plans to hook up with Will in London for lunch and a show in a month.

MOVING TO LOS ANGELES

I need to formulate a detailed plan. Will has lived the good life long enough, it’s my turn now.  I start with cleaning up my life here – telling my friends that I need to disappear again. They buy it easily as it has happened before. I clean out my bank account – about $1m, and drive to Hollywood where Will lives.

I rent a furnished apartment across the street from Will’s condo. It’s perfect – from my living room and bedroom, I can see his entrance and garage. I keep my fake beard and baseball cap on all the time, and only use the back entrance to go anywhere. On his departure day, I watch him being picked up by an airport service and confirm his flight took off on schedule. I head to my bathroom and remove my beard and hide my longer hair under a baseball cap. The condo manager gladly provides ‘Will’ with a spare key when I tell him I lost mine.

Will’s condo is very nice with an open floorplan. There’s 3 bedrooms and 3.5 baths. The lower level is a 2 car garage, lots of storage, a large video recording studio and utility room. His silver Porsche 911 Cabrio is parked next to a motorcycle. On the wall is some leather gear, boots and helmet. The 2nd floor has a large living room with exposed brick walls, huge flat screen, fireplace, bar, gourmet kitchen with top end stainless steel appliances and a personal office. The 3rd floor is all bedrooms with a huge master suite with large bathroom and large walk in closet. The one spare bedroom is sparsely decorated with just a bed, dresser and chair. The other bedroom is mostly empty. It’s a great ‘crib’ but I’m certain daddy helped pay for most of it.

I get to work quickly with my plans.  I try to check out his studio’s computer but its password protected and I can’t get it to unlock. This isn’t a problem after I plug in a thumb drive with keystroke tracker and some other tricks. In a minute, I gain access to all his computers and social media accounts.  The password was his usual password but backwards.

His iMac Pro is a wealth of information – full of his unedited videos, speeches and even a digital diary. I thought he stopped doing a diary in 11th grade but apparently not. He updated it just this morning before leaving. I’m sitting there for hours reviewing his life since I left. His comments about my death and funeral are cruel to say the least.  He blames me for fucking up life with my death, how mom & dad are glad it’s over and they’re all better off. Even my father agreed with him. That’s fine by me, they won’t miss Will at all when I take his place.

I decide to spend the night here and continue my studying. In his basement studio there is a green screen, professional video cameras and teleprompters set up in one corner which he uses to make his cutesy videos. I turn on the equipment, click on a file and up pops the words to his last blog on the teleprompter. On another display in front of the green screen pops up the empty stool where he sits. On the stool is a remote I believe is for controlling everything. I plop my ass down, face the camera, and see myself, or Will on the display in front of me. I fuss with my hair to give me Will’s prominent cowlick, press ‘record’ and the words start moving for me to perform. “What’s up guys, Will Witt for Prager U” I repeat his performance, then delete file before passing out at 2am, after seeing his posts on landing in Washington DC. 

LOOKING THE PART

My brother prides himself on his hair, especially the huge cowlick that he’s proud of. According to his calendar, he had a haircut a few days before leaving for Washington. I make myself at home taking a shower, and pulling on some of his clothes – dark gray skinny jeans, t-shirt, jacket and his black high top converse sneakers. I’m missing his clunky watch and ring he wears all the time, and also his rope crystal necklace he’s been wearing since he was 15. The one time I was with one of his girlfriends, not having that necklace on, gave away my identity. I jump in Will’s Porsche and find a salon with a great google rating. I ask for my usual and show her pics from two days ago. They’re very close up and detailed. In half an hour, I’m smiling at Will in the mirror, running my hand through his cowlick. 

Back home, I pull in to the garage and before I can close the door, some pretty little thing is running over to me. 

“Will! Hey there, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Oh hey, you caught me.” I smile and act surprise.

“Tammy and I are having a party tonight.” She hands me a flyer ‘Jen and Tam’s Big Party’.

“That sounds like a blast, ‘Jen’.” Hoping she’s the ‘Jen’ on the flyer.

“I was just going to slip it in your mailbox. Thought you were going to Washington or someplace exotic again.”

“My DC trip was postponed, so I’m here.” I give her a typical Will smile. 

“Washington’s lost is our gain. You have to come. Besides you can crawl home if you get drunk like unlike last time.”

“I’ll try my best but super busy here.” I chuckle with her, not sure what she’s referring to but Will’s diary will probably help me remember some of it. I’d love to go but there’ll be lots of iPhones around and plenty of pics/videos posted on social media.

A friend sent me a lot of WiFi HD fiberoptic video cameras and microphones to bug my brother’s place. I place a few in each room then sync them to my iPad. Walking from room to room I test them all for activation. It takes all day to hide them properly. Later on, Will’s latest VLOGs and antics from Washington start appearing on his desktop. 

His video reminds me how different our styles are. Will was always conservative dresser while I went for the grunge look. His videos confirm his tastes haven’t changed at all except becoming more expensive. I’m making myself at home – it’s going to be my future home soon anyway. With my new haircut, it only takes a little of his gel to look exactly like him.

 It was always fun turning myself into Will when we were younger, it’s still a turn on now. I print out some pics from his PC files, showing various outfit he’s worn.  I’ve got to nail his ‘look’ perfectly for my future life. There’s one of him in a sharp black suit, white shirt and black tie playing a piano, with a red lapel thingy at a Prager U gala a month ago. We both took piano lesson but I was always a little better.

It’s easy finding the outfit in his very organized closet.  He took it off, left the lapel pin in and probably hasn’t worn it since. There’s a video of the gala in his files that I watch, providing me glimpses of his shoes and watch. I strip out of his jeans, and into the outfit. I couldn’t find his watch – it’s probably in Washington on him but I slip on his pinky ring and a different watch from his jewelry box. Back in the studio, I start a new file – Prager Gala, pretending that I’m Will being interviewed about the night’s events. I sit on the stool, hit record and adlib the event starting with Will’s signature “What’s up Guys” intro, including flashing his two fingers. Being Will is all very natural for me. I’m up half the night learning the equipment, checking out his videos and closet. I just need a few weeks of studying him before I replace him. 

To access his cell phone, a friend puts me in contact with a local guy who clones Will’s iPhone. It costs $2000 but I now see his text messages, calendar and listen to his voicemails. I can also listen in on his calls while he’s talking to people. I can’t speak to them, and they can’t hear me but it’s perfect timing. With him in Washington, his entire life is going through his cell phone, providing me with up to the minute information. He’s working on his schedule for the next few months. With access to all this, I’m learning who his coworkers are, listening to work conference calls, what they’re working on and what Will’s job entails as Prager’s ‘social media influencer’.

Will has a spare set of keys for our parent’s place so I visit just to see what changes have been made while I’ve been gone. The most obvious change is the lack of pictures of me. Their mantel has no pics of Will and I together. It almost looks like they have only one son – that I never existed. Everything else is pretty much how it was three years ago. As I was leaving, Mrs. Tarantolo, their neighbor sees “Will” and comes running over to say hello. She thought it was sweet I was keeping an eye on their place while they were away “Such a good son.”  She claims to be my biggest fan and hasn’t missed any of my videos. She’s clueless about me, as she should – when even our parents couldn’t tell the difference, I’m not worried about anyone. 

My week consists of listening, watching and reading everything he’s up to. I take his Porsche out to grab lunch or dinner to remote places so I’m not seen by anyone that could know him. A few times, fans mistake me for Will and I sign autographs using “What’s Up Guys”. They’re thrilled and its harmless fun for me.  

The week flies by and I return to my apartment across the road.  I return the spare condo key to the manager after making a duplicate of it. On schedule, Will returns via  LAX shuttle service. My surveillance system works perfectly as he moves around his condo.  I see him taking a shower, changing into sweats and working in his studio.  His buddy Mike arrives later with pizza and they brainstorm in the studio about their next VLOG and ‘man in the street’ topics. Listening to their banter helps me learn the lingo and their personal relationship.

Will has not changed a bit since I left Los Angeles – same old anal retentive asshole. It’s fun watching and learning about him. He’s still an avid runner, and like clockwork, he does five miles around a nearby park most mornings. Prager U is just a few miles away and he’s there daily unless he’s traveling. He has a new girlfriend he casually hooks up with but it’s not serious, so that’ll be easy. He writes about meeting her in his diary. He’s got his work schedule planned for the next few months and I know enough to handle it. After a few weeks, my gut is telling me I’m ready to be Will Witt. 

Will’s next major trip is to London for a scheduled Turning Point USA promotion/MOTS and speech at Oxford University – same as he did at Stanford. My plan is to replace him when he arrives home. This gives me another 10 days to get up to speed with his life. I watch him pack, see LAX shuttle service pick him up and confirm his plane took off as scheduled. I make myself at home but keep a low profile, rarely going out. 

Between his phone and computer, I’m kept busy 24 hours/day just keeping up with his life. He’s definitely a video freak, not only recording content for Prager but also everything else like his hotel room, what he had for breakfast, his shopping excursions. I can’t wait to wear his new $7000 bespoke suit he purchased during his shopping expedition on Saville Row. I listen in on his phone calls with our parents, his friends and girlfriend Lisa. This helps me get up to speed with what’s going on in his life. Mom & Dad meet Will for lunch at his hotel, then go to see Hamilton. There’s plenty of selfies and videos to make his life mine. He’s spending a fortune on food, wine, clothes, cigars and trinkets. 

A few hours before he returns, I’m armed with chloroform, truth serum and various knock out drugs.  I hide in his bedroom, ready to pounce with a heavily soaked rag of chloroform. It’s almost enough to knock me out just holding it. 

HONEY I’M HOME

The door lock jiggles and Will enters, plopping his luggage inside the door. He makes a beeline to kitchen and opens the refrigerator. He’s there quite a while before I hear him dragging his very large suitcases up the stairs. I’m crotched in the corner, behind the door as he struggles to get both bags through. The perfect moment happens when one of the bags get stuck in the door jam and I hear him say ‘fuck’. In a split second, I pounce and have the chloroform soaked rag over his nose and mouth. A split second after that, he almost falls to the floor as I catch him. I drag him out into the hallway, and finish putting his bags in the bedroom.

“Welcome home Will, have a good trip?” I look down at him passed out and ask.

“Awesome trip man, had fun with the TP USA team, saw Hamilton with the parents, and hit up lots of pubs and cigars. I’ll have to show you all the pics I took.” I respond to  myself in Will’s typical enthusiastic lingo.  

I drag Will to the empty bedroom and start stripping him. Of course, he’s in a sport coat and tie to travel. It’s so ‘Will’ I think as I carefully remove everything from him, amazed at how alike we still are. I strip off my old sweat pants and t-shirt and put them on him. I pull him up into a metal chair I anchored to the floor, then handcuff his hands and feet so he can’t move an inch. I kneel down next to him, grab his face, then rotate it side to side to check his appearance close up. My sideburns are about a quarter inch too long so I head to my bathroom and trim them to match exactly. 

 I carry ‘my’ clothes back to my new bedroom and slowly start my transformation into Will. I love pulling on the outfit he’s been wearing all day—his sweat and scents mixing with mine. Everything is still warm as I put on his black briefs and socks. His charcoal dress pants fit perfectly as I pull them up. His shirt has gunmetal gray cufflinks and is monogrammed on the sleeve with our initials ‘WCW’. I pulled the black lace up shoes off his feet without untying them. I wiggle into them, tuck in my shirt and fasten my belt. In the bathroom mirror I put on his tie using the same technique dad taught both of us.  I pull on his cool black sport coat with large dark gray plaid patterns. There’s a video of him wearing this outfit for red carpet Oscar interviews. I check his breast pockets, locating his iPhone, keys and wallet.  Tucked inside an outside pocket are his glasses. Slipping on his ring, leather wrist band and watch completes my transformation into Will Witt. I adjust my hair using his Cremo hair cream—Will is always fussing with his hair. Staring in the mirror, I only see Will Witt, just as he was traveling first class earlier. I grin at myself as I adjust my shirt cuffs and admire my looks. I do his usual MOTS intro flawlessly – “What’s Up Guys”. From this moment on, I’m Will Witt and no one will have a clue I’m not. 

My iPhone buzzes in my suit pocket, it’s Will’s girlfriend, Lisa calling. 

“Hey Lisa, I just got in the door babe.” I answer watching myself in the mirror, smiling and playing Will flawlessly.

“I thought you would be, I’ve missed you so much Will.” She whispers seductively.

“Same, may I take you out for dinner?” I ask as charmingly as Will does, remembering their conversation from a day ago, and Will promising dinner and a surprise.

“I would love that.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 7, Let’s dress up and go someplace nice. I’ll wear a suit and tie.” This gives me the afternoon to get settled into my new life. 

“Okay Will, can’t wait.”

“Bye Babe.” Will’s cutesy name he uses for all his girlfriends.

‘It’s show time’ I think to myself. I head back to my brother who’s finally starting to stir from the chloroform. I start slapping his face and he becomes more aware.

“Wake up Willy, Willy wake up.” I say playfully. 

He looks confused, slowly recognizing me, his eyes bug out, then starts to struggle. “But you’re dead?”

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Don’t struggle bro, you’ll only hurt yourself.” I laugh at him.

“What’s going on Willy? Why are you in my clothes?”

“From now on, please call me Will and they’re now my clothes. I just got back from London and I’m really jet lagged.” I stand proudly, straighten my tie then reach into my breast pocket for my new wallet.

“Asshole, what do you think you’re doing?” he yells and gets pissed as he’s now fully awake.

“Well, remember when you planted drugs in my locker, turned me into the school principle and ruined my life?”

“Yeah, that was a good one! They all bought it too. Got rid of you for good.” He laughs.

 “Well, laugh all you want.  I’m borrowing your life.”

“You’ll never get away with this. Whatever you are planning, won’t work.” He predicts.

“Well I’m taking Lisa out to dinner tonight to celebrate my return. In other words, I need pussy but Will doesn’t talk like that. Let me rephrase it – I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner and hopefully make love to her. Better?”  I leaf through my wallet checking it out, pulling out the debit card. “Bro, is your PIN still 8991? I may need some cash for my date. You only have a $40 in here.”

By the look on his face, I know he never changed is PIN. “Thanks bro, just needed to confirm that.” 

“She’ll know you’re not me, don’t even try it.”

“Bro, you’re talking to the guy who fooled all your girlfriends in high school. You’ve been dating her for what? About 6 weeks after meeting her at Jen’s last party where you got wasted and don’t remember getting home.”

“You’ve been reading my private diary?” 

“Well, you could say it’s my diary. So, I was just reviewing my life for the past few years.” I laugh at him. “Which brings me to a new issue – where should I take her for dinner, and do afterwards?”

“Fuck yourself.” He yells.

“Bro, I’m hoping to fuck her, not myself. You don’t want me to do something brash, ‘unWill like’ and ruin your relationship do you? I bet she doesn’t even know you have a twin brother, am I right?” I laugh at him. 

“Willy, what are you doing? Just untie me and I’ll forget this ever happened. I promise.” Trying to soften me up.

“Let’s get this straight, for the time being, I’m Will Witt, you’re nothing, don’t call me that again.” I yell at him. “Now, you’re going to help me be you or I’m going to really fuck up your life. You know I can do it. If you lie to me, there will be repercussions. Do not test me.”

“Okay.” He responds defeated.

“Okay, what?” I demand.

“Okay Will. Lisa loves Italian and there’s this little family owned restaurant called ‘Papa Joe’s’ near her house. She loves it and so do I. That’s where I was planning on taking her tonight. I always get the ‘Lombardo’ dish with an ice tea of course.” He answers defeated. 

“That’s good information bro, I really appreciate that.” I watch his face and have always been able to tell when he was lying. “What after that? What are her limits?  I need everything to be you with her. Give me the full history.”

He proceeds to tell me everything I need to know about Lisa – at least I hope so. 

“Now I need details about my job.  I know where you work, and what you do but more details about the people, office layout, where your office is and how I get in?” He gives me looks that could kill. “What’s up guys?” I mock him with his catch phrase. 

“My work ID badge gives me complete access anytime. It’s in the front pocket of my backpack. I have an office on the second floor, just left as you get out of the elevator. My name is on the door. You can’t miss it.”

“What do you do when you first get there, in the morning? Routine? Pals? Coffee? conference room? Where do you go for lunch? I need it all Willy. You don’t want me to mess up your perfect little life, do you?” I subtly threaten him.

Once I pump him for everything, I grab the bag from the corner, pull out a needle and inject him. He screams at me for about two minutes then become docile. I walk him to the bathroom and order him to relieve himself. Once secured back in his chair, I give him dose of Midazolam that will keep him out for 12 hours and put a ball gag in his mouth. I shut and lock the bedroom door, head back to my master bedroom finishing my unpacking. 

I slip easily into Will’s routine.  My shirts and suits will go to my cleaner per the receipts in the Porsche, the rest go into the washer. Carefully tucked inside his luggage is his new Saville Row Huntsman, a few new dress shirts and the Big Ben charm I bought Lisa in London. I can’t help but try on the new suit, admiring the fit and material. I head downstairs and see Will’s work backpack he has with him all the time. I take it down to the studio office and start going through the content…. A few cameras, my passport, iPad and MacBook Pro.  There’s a printout of my next Prager assignments and hand notes he made in the margins. I find his work ID, clip it to my suit, repack his backpack and head to the office. 

A DAY IN THE LIFE

I’ve followed Will to Prager U but have never stepped foot inside. I pull into an empty parking lot, and park in his assigned spot. Will says no one is ever there but he sometimes goes in to get a jump on Monday. My ID badge opens the main door. I easily find his office and make myself at home. On the wall I notice the signed photograph of Reagan that dad treasures and wonder how Will has it. I plop my backpack on the chair next to my desk and start exploring. I open my MacBook and it starts syncing with the LAN. I easily log in and upload my videos as Will does after all his events, according to his logs.  

I explore the entire building and everything is as he described – Boss’ office, video production, media center, studio, executive conference room etc. I confidently walk around taking in the names of my coworkers. In the men’s room, I smile at Will in the mirror and clean out my coffee mug. 

Back in the office, I settle into my desk and go thru my drawers, check my work email and respond to some.  I hear someone coming up the stairs, calling my new name, approaching my office.  I recognize it immediately as Will’s producer and friend – Mike.

“In here.” I yell out to him.

He pops his head around the corner. “Welcome back, how was your flight?”

“Uneventful, good to be home but jet lag.” I casually answer.

“My flight yesterday was delayed an hour from Chicago but not too bad.”

I heard their last conversation before Will took off this am, and continued it. “I’m good with the final edits from MOTS, just uploaded it so Alexander can add the graphics.” 

I pull up the video, knowing Will made a few cuts on the flight over, and show it to him.  

“You’ve been busy man, looks great. You want to grab lunch?” 

“Sure, you drive and pick.” I can’t resist the thought of testing my ‘Will skills’. 

Mike takes me to ‘In & Out’ for burgers.  He doesn’t suspect a thing, readily accepting me as his friend and coworker.  We talk about the trip, work and future trips. I feel as if I was actually there. He drops me off and I head back to my office and continue to familiarize myself with everything for a few more hours. 

My big test will be ‘my’ girlfriend Lisa.  I stay in Will’s slick outfit, donning his favorite Ray-Bans for the drive. She’s waiting for me outside and jumps into my car. Her unexpected full tongue kiss surprises me but I quickly adjust and give her full tongue back. We make out for a minute then I take her to Papa Joe’s.  Will was telling the truth, Lisa lights up as I pull in front and valet the Porsche. I use my brother’s pics, diary, blogs and text messages to talk about my London trip. When desert comes, I spring the Big Ben charm on her. She leans in tenderly, kisses me deeply and invites me to spend the night. 

At her place, we strip and jump right into bed.  In minutes, she’s moaning as I work her pussy, slowly penetrating it with the tip of my head. She starts moaning softly ‘oh Will, oohhh Will’ making me harder, pushing deeper into her as she climaxes. I explode in her, then collapse onto my back as she curls up under my arm and we fall to sleep.  She wakes me up with a blow job and homemade pancakes – Will’s favorite she notes. I’m not a big pancake fan but eat them eagerly as Will would. I’ve replaced Will completely and now have his sexy girlfriend. 

DAY TWO

I check on Willy when I get home and he’s starting to stir. My schedule today calls for video editing at Prager U with Gavi and Mike. I take a quick shower put on an outfit that screams ‘preppy conservative’ – which isn’t difficult as that’s all Will has in his closet, making my job easy. 

I pop my head in to the bedroom and see that he’s wide awake.

“Morning sunshine.” I cheerfully say.

“Let me the fuck out of these straps now!” he mumbles as I remove the ballgag.

“Sure thing, but first a little shot so you can take a dump and eat a little something. Hungry?”

“No, don’t drug me, it’s a fucking weird feeling.” He pleas.

“Sorry man, I can’t chance you getting free and having a fake Will running around.”

“You’re the fake Will, ass wipe.” He screams.

“Hmmm Lisa and Mike didn’t think so.  I ran into Mike in the office yesterday while uploading my latest VLOG and MOTS video, then had lunch with him.  He’s a good friend of mine. Oh, and Lisa… Damn did I hit her sweet spot last night as she moaned my name softly in my ears. She really loved the Big Ben charm I got her and the ‘Big Will’ I gave her. I think I’m in love bro.” I grab my crotch so he knows what I’m talking about. 

“You fucking bastard!!  Fucking asshole!! You’ll be caught. You can’t slip into my life that easily.” He screams.

“Now, now, Willy.  Guess you didn’t notice the video and audio bugs I installed throughout my new condo or the keystroke tracker on your computers. I’ve been catching up with you since Stanford. Your condo manager was gracious enough to give me a key after you lost it.” I run and grab my iPad and play some of the videos for him, then I show him the cloned phone and play his last conversation with Mike. 

“Guess I don’t need this cloned phone any longer. I have to admit, you’re quite the busy person. Your phone never stops ringing and beeping but don’t worry, I’m keeping up.”

“Fuck you Willy!  When I get free, you’re going to jail or worst.”

“If you get free, which I doubt. If you haven’t noticed, you’re bolted to the floor. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll have new carpet installed at some point. Nice thing bro – between my bank account and yours, I’m quite wealthy with a lot of future potential. In fact, after this gig, I’m thinking of running for office. Dad would love it and back me financially.”

He mutters. “Fucker.”

“Hey bro, don’t worry, I’m taking good care of your life. Enjoying it immensely, especially Lisa. She really knows how to wake me up but I’m not big on the pancakes.”

He thrashes back and forth in the chair screaming more obscenities at me.

 “Bro, seriously, how do I look? Do you approve my work outfit? I’ve noticed this sport coat is one of your favorites. Oh, and my new suit from London fits great and feels incredible. I just had to try it on.” I taunt him while adjusting my shirt sleeves and checking my watch.

“What are you doing here?” he quietly demands.

“Well the drug career pays quite well but is extremely dangerous.  After seeing you at Stanford, I decided a career change was necessary. Don’t you agree it’s a good career move?”

“You’ll never fool them for long.  There are things only I could know. You’ll tripped up.  What about mom and dad?”

“Are you serious?” I laugh out loud. “Mom and dad could never tell us apart, you know that. I did visit the house while you were in London and from the pictures displayed, it looks like I, Will, am an only child. They’re the least of my worries.”

“Oh, they’ll know you’re not me.”

“Why would they? Just look at me bro. I was always a better you than you, when I wanted to be. I do have to get fully up to speed with my new life, friends and girlfriend but that’s what all my new drugs are for. I kind of like your style so I’ll only wear what you already have in your closet.  I’m enjoying your preppy style. I think I’m rocking the Will look, you have to admit it.” I tug on my sleeves not interested in his rants.

“What about work?” He counters.

“Oh bro, that’ll be easy too. I’ve watched all your videos – the work and personal, edited and unedited. I taught myself iMovie to edit my MOTSs for uploading. I’ve seen you brainstorm with Mike on MOTS topics and question. It’s amazing how we even think alike politically. I’m ahead of schedule for today.  Like the anal person you are, I was in the office all afternoon while you were sleeping. I cleaned out my scummy coffee mug, organized my desk and left a note for Alexander on the graphics I’d like to see before the end of today. I can’t wait to meet the boss, have been a fan of his for years.”

“You can’t be me!” He slumps his shoulder in deeper defeat. 

“I am you, no one will have a clue I’m not.” 

I inject him with truth serum and a powerful muscle relaxer.  By the time I come back with breakfast, he’s docile and defeated. A few protein bars, quick trip to bathroom and he’s safely secured again. The truth serum is remarkable. I have a totally different discussion with him.

“Hey bro, how do I look? You like?” I spin around to model my outfit.

“I’ve worn that exact outfit before I think.”

“Thank you, now see, it wasn’t too hard to be nice, now was it?”

He spills his guts to me about all his coworkers, and what he thinks of them. While he’s drugged, I hit him up on family issues and his feelings towards me. He basically threatens to kill me and will since I’m already dead. It’s been on his mind since he woke up chained to the chair. I snicker to myself, knowing he’s the one who’s days are numbered. It’s almost time for work today, so I knock him out for another 12 hours.

My first day of work is a breeze.  I visit Alexander and review the graphics I want. Mike and I review the schedule and brainstorm future MOTSs and VLOGs. Will has the easy part and probably makes the most money. Prager’s staff writes his MOTS questions and helps him with upcoming speeches. He provides the topic, they handle it from there. Will was good enough to do my outline for his University of Texas speech next week. I turn them in and talk to Marissa, our content producer. I have the best gig – I just need to be the hip preppy conservative face of Prager U and get to travel all around the world. 

When I’m leaving Marrisa’s office, I run into Dennis Prager, the president of Prager University. He puts his arm around me and leads me back to his office.

“Will, good to see you, how was London? I just saw your rough video and it’s great”

“Thank you, Mr. Prager. London was great.” I respond and his face immediately looks puzzled.

“Since when am I Mr. Prager?”

“Dennis, sorry it just came out. I’m still out of sorts with jet lag and the British are so formal.”  I try to recover.

“I understand boy, plus you probably had too much wine and cigars I’m sure.”

“I sure did. I brought a few Charatan Robustos back with me” I chuckle knowing their conversations about them and using them to solidify my identity.

“And you’re not sharing? Will, Will, Will, how could you?” 

“I’ll bring them in tomorrow.” 

“Let’s grab lunch son.” 

I can’t believe I’m having lunch with Dennis Prager. He’s thrilled with ‘my’ work, wants me to do more TV appearances like Fox & Friends but also liberal networks. My ratings are through the roof. I talk about my London trip, showing him pics of my parents and selfies I took. We talk politics, going back and forth on issues. We get back to the office and I easily fit in and learn the ropes. By the end of the day, I’m very pleased with my new life. I pass on happy hour claiming I’m still of out sorts due to jet lag. 

CHECKING IN

Back home I check Willy. He’s awake but groggy.

“What’s up guy? How was your day?” I ask cockily as I strut in.

“How do you think, you sick fuck.”

“So sorry to hear that. My day was awesome. My latest VLOG and MOTS are killing it. I had lunch with my friend Dennis and he wants me to do more TV spots. It was probably the best day of your life, I mean my life.”

“My life! You fucker, my life.” He screams with pure rage.

“Wow bro, you smell. We’ll have to get you a shower but first I need to change. Be right back.”

I run to my closet and throw on a pair of running shorts and a Prager t-shirt. I keep my cell phone on me as it’s been going off all day. When I get back to Willy, he starts yelling at me.

“What are you up to? Did you get me fired? The truth, you owe me that at least.”

I laugh. “Now why would I mess up my career bro?”

“It’s my life and career. You’re going to pay for this you fucking asshole.” He continues to rant. 

“I’ve had enough of you already.” I grab the ball gag, shove it in his mouth and he starts thrashing again. My phone rings, it’s Mike calling.

“Hey Mike, What’s up?” Willy’s eye light up watching me.

“No, I’m fine, it was just jetlag and you know me…I tried all the beers and cigars in the pubs…Yeah buddy…thanks for your concern.”  I hang up and look at Willy. “Hey that Jetlag excuse will be good for another few days till I get the groove completely.”

He starts mumbling again but the phone rings again with Lisa calling. 

“Hey babe, how was your day?” I sincerely ask. Willy starts squirming and getting louder. 

“Hey babe, hang on, I’ve got my producer calling.” I put her on hold, walk over to Willy and gut punch him with all my force. I impale him and he shuts up.

“Sorry babe, did I thank you for last night?...Oh yeah, I’d love to but I’ve got a lot to catch up with…My parents are coming back Wednesday from their European vacation and we’re suppose to do dinner Thursday? Would love for you to meet them….Okay… love ya.” 

“Bro, see how easy this gig is for me? I still need you for some additional information like the combination to the safe in your office.” He stares at me but is keeping quiet. I grab my little box of drugs and mellow Willy out.  A quick shower, shit and change of clothes and he’s back in his chair. I feed him a sub and water that he quickly inhales. 

“Now Willy, what’s the number to my safe?”

“Go fuck yourself.” he mumbles.

“Willy, you know I could give you some truth serum or beat it out of you.”

“17858” he spits out as in disgust. 

I head down to his safe and open it up.  Inside is a gun, his birth certificate, social security card, and a stack of other seemingly important papers. I grab it all and take head up to review with Willy.

“Nice Glock Willy, let’s review what’s in my safe and why it’s there. Some quality bonding time. Most of this I know but the rest?”  I ask nicely.

“My contract with Prager U, noncompete, mom & dad’s will, my will, some stocks dad gave me.”

I leaf through it, reading it all and ignoring Willy. In between docs, I feed him some granola bars from the kitchen. I play with the unloaded gun in front of him, on purpose. I’ll have a use for it soon.

“Ok brother, more work questions. There’s ‘PR shots’ on calendar for tomorrow afternoon. What’s with that?”

“Joel, our CMO set them up.  It’s just ‘glamour’ pics for his new marketing campaign.”

“Oh, so that’s what my new suit is for I’m guessing. The email to Joel saying you’re all set after you bought it?”

“Yeah, please don’t fuck things up for me Willy. I’ve worked hard this past year.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m Will.” I gut punch him again.

“I’m sorry Will.” He cries in pain.

“That’s better Willy. So, tell me what to expect.”

“Easy, take suit to work, some of my shirts, ties and jewelry.  Collette in our makeup will take care of the rest. Just smile and do what they tell you in front of the camera.” he answers, still in pain.

“Shoes?”

“The black derbies I had on yesterday, I bought for shoot specifically, wanted them broken in. Doesn’t matter though – they only shoot from waist up.”

“Now that’s more like it. Don’t fight me, help me so I don’t fuck up your life.” as if he’s ever getting it back, I think to myself. 

“Yes Will.”

HANGING WITH FRIENDS

“Now, my friend Tommy wants to go out tonight, grab dinner. What would ‘Will’ do?” 

“He wants to do 71Above – it’s the highest restaurant west of the Mississippi. Tricia, his friend is host there and can get us in. Very high end, suit and tie required.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yeah, he’s picking me up, I’m paying.”

“I’m paying!” I correct him. “What were you going to wear?”

“There’s a black Tom Ford suit with a red lapel pin on it, I’ve only worn it once for a few hours. White shirt and any tie.”

“Oh yes, my outfit from the Prager gala where I played ‘blue moon’ on the piano. What tie, what shirt?” I demand.

He looks at me shocked. “There’s a new gold paisley tie, white spread collar shirt with cufflinks.”

“Why thank you brother. I better go and get ready.” I shove another granola bar in his mouth.

I easily assemble the outfit he was going to wear. After all my spying, I’m sure I would have selected something as tasteful. I skip the gold paisley and decide on a ‘men in black’ look, almost exactly as he had on at the gala. A quick shower, 20 minutes with my hair and another 20 to dress and I’m still 36 minutes early for Tommy.

“How do I look Willy? Now be honest.” I ask walking into the bedroom.

He checks me out head to toe. “You look good Will. You’re wearing my good watch?”

“My good watch brother, remember? You wore your smaller ring at the gala but I stuck with what I had on coming back from London. I think I looks great. Went with the gold black onyx cufflinks. And dude I even had my name embossed inside the suit, sweet!” I open up my jacket.

“You’ve been watching my videos.” He realizes.

“Of course, and reading your diary, all the way back to when dad drove me to ‘New Starts’ and abandoned me. I’m good Willy, been watching you for a month.”

Just then my phone rings in breast pocket. I pull it out and see it’s Tommy.

“Now keep quiet Willy or you know what’ll happen.” I warn him as I answer. “What’s up Tommy? On your way…yeah early is good, I’m ready… Okay, that sounds good, see you soon.”

“Please don’t drug me bro, I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Sorry Willy, can’t take any chances. Besides, Tommy mentioned about having a drink when he gets here. Sounds like it’s routine for you guys. What does he drink?”

“Rum and Coke, lots in the fridge just for him.”

I grab the knock out needle and give him a dose.  He doesn’t fight me at all.

“Why thank you bro. I’ll see you later tonight maybe, if you’re awake.” I laugh as I leave and lock the door. 

Tommy walks in without knocking, making his way to my bar as I make my way down the stairs. He sees me and lifts the glasses.

“The usual?” 

“Sure, sounds good to me.”  he’s right at home, grabbing the rum and coke.

“Cheers!” he hands me one, we clink glasses and swig.

I follow Tommy’s lead the entire evening but I know enough about Will to discuss his trip, girlfriend and work. Tommy talks about his auditions for a few movies and a commercial. Sadly for him, I’m a bigger celebrity than he is, as a few people ask for my autograph while waiting to be seated. Tricia has seats for us right next to the window with the best view of LA. It a fun night as a few of Tricia’s friends join us. It’s easy playing Will and his friends. I have everything put on my tab. Thank god he has an early audition for a new Marvel movie, so we leave and I’m home by midnight. 

MORE WORK

I’m up early but Willy is out cold still. He looks like death, probably from all the injections and being upright on the chair for days. Not that I really care as it gives me more ‘Will Time’. To keep in character, I put on some of his work out gear, grab my iPod and do my usual run around the park. I work up quite the sweat but it probably helps with all the alcohol Tommy and I consumed. I check on Willy and he’s now awake and not happy. A quick injection allows me to get him relieved and toss him in the shower. He’s not putting up any resistance so I give him breakfast, leave him in the tub but making sure to securely handcuff him to a grip bar. I take my morning shower in the same shower so I can keep an eye on him.

Willy is so beaten that he’s stopped resisting completely and is cooperative even. Believing that by helping me, I’ll get what I want from him and leave him to his old life. What he’s doing is sealing his fate faster. Once I no longer need him, we’ll head up to my parent’s cabin in the mountains and he’ll be fertilizer. 

After I towel off, I sit on the toilet seat next to Willy.

“How you feeling Willy?” I ask trying to sound concerned.

“Please Will, can I stay here in the tub all day? I promise I’ll be good.”

“I think I can do that but you have to be knocked out. But sure thing. Tommy is a fun guy bro. He sure loves his rum & cokes. We had a blast. I think he was hurt that women were coming up to me for my autograph but not him.”

“Yeah, that’s happened before when we’re out.” He looks really down.

“What is it bro? you look sad.”

“What do you think? I’m chained up and I can’t believe people are falling for your act.” he gets a little feisty.

“Come on bro, how could they not think I was anybody but Will Witt? Don’t worry, no one suspects a thing, so we’re good but I need your help with today’s schedule – sorta of ‘what would Will do’ session just to make sure I don’t fuck anything up for you. Okay?”

“Sure Will, it’s what I live for.” he responds sarcastically.

“How do you come up with the topics for your MOTSs?” 

“Who do you think? Dad, you know how opinionated he is. When we had dinner in London, he rattled off six topics for me to cover and things he’d ask these snowflakes.”

“Ah I thought you sounded a lot like dad when interviewing people. That explains the notes on your iPad. By the way, I’m having dinner with the rents Friday night, having them meet Lisa.”  I just smile at him. “Now about today’s pics, what should I wear? ‘What would Will wear’?”

“We’ve been through this – my new bespoke suit.”

“Exactly what you’d wear today – into the office and for the shoot. I’m just trying to help you Willy.”

“Dennis is always pushing for me in more suits and ties, to be taken more seriously outside the campus forum. Keep it simple – black button down shirt, my charcoal brooks brothers suit. For the shoot, the bespoke of course and take all my new dress shirts and ties, many pairs of cufflinks. I love my gold paisley tie, the one you wore last night. Hopefully you didn’t ruin it.”

“No, I went with a black tie, so the paisley is fine.”

“There’s a large suit bag in the back of my closet that can hold everything you’ll need.’

“I have to tell you bro, I’m gaining a real appreciation for your closet. My tastes have really matured in the past months. What’s with the glasses though?”

“They’re for eye strain bro, giving my eyes a break now from the contact lenses. I also wear them for important interviews or meetings where I want to look more mature and smarter.”

“Well your glasses and contacts work great for me too. My eyes have been changing but I never had them checked. Now, what about the shoot? Who’s going to be there?  How does it work? What does Will do?” I press him.

“It’s a larger version of my down stair studio. Someone will come get me when it’s my turn, take me to changing room, then make up, then to the set – green screen. It’s easy really.  There’ll be people in and out all day long.”

“People like who?”

“Candace, Charlie Kirk, Dave Rubin, Guy Benson and many others.  It���ll be a few days of craziness.”

“Nice!  Do I have any nicknames or personal things with any of them?  Like, how do you address Candace? or Charlie?” He stutters and hesitates. “Spill it or more drugs. Besides, you don’t want me to fuck up anything with your friends now do you?”

“Candace is ‘Candy’ jokingly, she’s getting married in a few weeks.” He continues with the others. I’ll use the information but it sounds childish – something a more mature, evolving Will would never use.  I’ll phase that nonsense out. 

“Good to know. Thanks. I’ve got to get ready for work.” I grin at him.

Dennis Prager alluded to my evolving image during lunch and that I should be wearing more conservative outfits. I agree completely with the boss and love the image. With that in mind, I ignore Willy’s suggestion and go ultra conservative. I remember a beautiful light blue shirt with white contrasting collar and cuffs that ‘I’ve’ worn a few times. It would be ultra conservative with my gray Brooks. 

In Will fashion, I lay out my work outfit on the bed, adding all the details. When I’m satisfied, I pull it on my underwear and socks, pull on my pants.  After I add the belt, I pull on the Brooks shirt.  To keep with the Brooks theme, as Will likes to do, I select the Brooks tie that he wore previously. The whole image screams ultra conservative and looks great. I add white gold cufflinks, his smaller ring and gold watch. I pull on the jacket and stare at myself in the mirror. I put some gel in my hair then fix it exactly as in the pic I found in an old MOTS video. Oh, almost forgot my tie clip. He’s famous on Instagram for his tie clips? I clip one on and it completes my image. I flash a Will smile and fingers. “What’s Up Guys?”. 

I must have nailed the look because when I entered the toilet, Willy’s mouth dropped. In the bathroom mirror, I admire myself, tug on my cuffs and adjust my tie. I don’t say a word.

“Well aren’t you Will Witt.” He comments snidely but I ignore him for a few more minutes as I run my hand thru my hair.

“Who else would I be?” I turn around to face him. “What’s Up Guys, Will Witt for Prager U.” flash my peace sign to him, pretending I’m holding a microphone.

“Probably a better choice for today. No pocket square Will?” 

“Oh shit, totally didn’t notice.”

“In drawer under jewelry box.”  He answers me without even asking. I run to his closet, find a nice silk white one neatly folded in a square. I tuck it in my suit pocket and check myself out in the mirror quickly.

“Better?” He’s silent.

I pull out his preppy glasses and put on and off. “Glasses, no glasses?” I look at him.

“I don’t care, up to you.” 

“Know what, think I’ll have pics taken both ways. I think they make me look older, which would kill my ‘frat boy’ image on college campuses but might help me with the older generation.” I turn to look at his expression but he looks broken. “I love this suit bro, it fits me great. I made sure the knot was right by noting the length of the tie, and location of stripes. Not used to wearing one, almost forgot the tie clip – my fans would have blown up over such a faux pas.”

“True, they watch everything I post.”

“Ok bro, I need to get to work, busy day ahead. I’ll probably be late tonight because Mike wants to do Furley’s for happy hour. I’ll let you in the bathtub so you’re comfortable but how about something to help you sleep?”

“No don’t do that please, I’ll be good.” He begs.

I ignore him, grab the needle and knock him out for the day. 

I jump in my 911 and head in for another day in the life of Will Witt. The suit bag weighs about 30lbs and takes up the entire seat of my 911. Everyone accepts me and I keep learning more and more.  The lingo is coming naturally to me. The routine of emails, small talk and understanding my role is easy. 

I hang my suit bag and jacket on the back of my office door, grab my coffee mug and ease into the day.  Just before lunch, Nicki, one of the film staff comes for me – it’s my turn. I’m seated in in one of the dressing rooms, in a makeup chair, in front of the mirror. Collette comes in all smiles. 

“Will, you’re looking great.”

“You too, so let’s get started. I’ve got a lot to do today on top of these pics.”

“There’s something we’d like to do different this time.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds ominous.”

“Well, how about we cut your hair some?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that Collette, it’s my signature, my “conservative with the best hair”.” Sounding uncertain for effect.

“Well, I was talking to Dennis and Joel, and we feel you should be the focus, not your hair. We’re not talking about shaving your head, just toning down the cowlick some. If you don’t like, it’ll be back in a few months.”

I think about it for a minute, running my hand through my cowlick, looking at Will in the mirror. I’ve seen videos where the wind destroys his giant flop, part of his gig but in the end, I nod in approval and let Prager U redo my image. 

The ‘Will’ PR shoot was so simple, but time consuming.  They brought in some famous stylist from West Hollywood to cut my hair – it took an hour! They went through my suit bag and laid out a number of outfits but didn’t question my taste. They took multiple pics of me in 5 different outfits including what I wore in this morning. I was there for hours. At the end of the day, we head to Furley’s as planned for happy hour. I left on my new suit and last outfit I was photographed in. What a happy hour – hanging with Charlie Kirk, Ben Shapiro and other famous conservatives was incredible. Thanks to Will’s unedited interview videos, I knew exactly what small talk he had with a number of these conservative celebrities and played them perfectly. 

When I get home, my first stop is to taunt Willy still tied up in bathtub.

“Hey bro, this suit is simply amazing. You were right, the shoot was really easy, except for having to change every 20 minutes. Like my haircut?” I tease

“What did you do to my hair?” 

“Willy, remember, it’s my hair. It’s a shorter, more mature, conservative cut. Everyone loves it.  I still have the best hair of any conservative. I texted it to mom and she loves it too.” I open up the iPhone and scroll thru pics from the shoot, then laugh and leave to change into sweats. Following the same routine, I inject Willy, help him to bathroom, feed him and put him to bed. In just a few days, he’s totally changed from being in control to being dependent. He’s definitely a shadow of himself but I’m now casting his shadow.

Every day as Will gets easier as I seamlessly take over his life.  I’m sure I’ve slipped up a few times but since no one knows Will has a twin, who would suspect me? Wednesday at work was incredible. I helped with the rest of the PR shoot, chatted with all of my new conservative friends. I especially liked talking to Dave Rubin and Candace Owens.  I had dinner with everyone that evening and it went really late. By the time I got home, Willy had wetted himself. I was so pissed that I shoved a hot pocket in his mouth, hosed him off and drugged him heavily. 

On Thursday Gavi and I do a man on the street, at Santa Monica Pier. I nailed it – quickly picking up Will’s attitude and methods. It was easy after watching all his videos from the past year. Back in the office I sit down with Gavi, edit his video and work with Alexander to add the graphics.  

Willy is awake when I get home. His eyes scan me from top to bottom then he starts yelling through the ball gag.

“Hang on Willy.” I pop out the ball gag.

“I hate you Willy and I’m done playing your game.” He spits and hits me on my shorts. 

I gut punch him with all my force, then inject him to keep him docile. “Now Willy, we’ll get you on the potty and fed quickly. I don’t have a lot of time, Lisa and I are going to dinner at mom and dad’s. I really like her.”

I get Willy settled, take a quick shower and head out to pick up Lisa. Dinner is a breeze as Lisa is the center of attention. There’s no discussion of Willy at all – just about me and how proud they are of everything I’m doing. As I expected, they were totally clueless I wasn’t their precious little Will. I have to admit, it felt great being home. I showed Lisa my old bedroom and got a BJ on Will’s bed. It was like old times, like his other girlfriends I fooled. Mom and dad announced they’re heading to Hawaii to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary and ask me to watch the house while they’re gone. More time to get reacquainted with my new life as their loving son Will. I spend the night at Lisa’s but get up early to take care of things at home, then work.

Willy is awake and pissed more when I check in on him. 

“Morning Willy.” I cheerfully announce.

“You’re Willy asswipe.” He yells back.

I gut punch him with all my force. “Don’t make me repeat myself Willy, now who am I?”

“You’re Will, Will Witt.” He’s barely able to speak, I hit him so hard.

“Now that’s much better Willy. Let’s get you to the bathroom and fed.” I inject him and continue talking while it takes effect.

“So, mom and dad love Lisa bro.  I think she’s really falling for me.  She gave me a BJ in my old bedroom. Sadly, your old bedroom is now a workout room with no trace of you at all. I showed Lisa my swimming and track trophies, tried on my old letterman jacket and gave her the whole Will Witt history. Can you believe mom and dad are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary? I can’t!” I lay it on thick as the caring son that Will is. 

“Fuck off.” The mumbles.

“Oh Willy, don’t make me hurt you more.” I warn him. I can see the drugs have kicked in, and start untying him. Just as I loosen the last night, Willy tries a fast one on me, trying to tackle me to the floor.  I’ve wrestled him too many times and know his ‘plays’ and another gut punch and I’m dragging him into the bathroom. A quick shower, shit and breakfast bar and he’s good for another 12 hours.

Once he’s secured, I jump in shower and prep for another day in the office. Fridays are so routine with a team strategy meeting for upcoming projects/videos/content.  This is followed by lunch and office time till happy hour at Furley’s. After happy hour, I meet Lisa and a bunch of her friends out for more drinks and dancing, then back to her place.

END OF THE ROAD

I’m up early and skip out of Lisa’s, telling her I have some chores to do for my parents and I’ll be tied up all weekend. Willy is awake and thrashing about trying to get loose. I enter the bedroom smiling, and clap my hands.

“Willy, good news! Road trip bro! We’re going to the cabin to take care of some things for Dad. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He stares at me, blood shot eyes, a week of facial hair, looking like crap. “Good, could I sleep in one of the bunk beds?”

“Sure thing bro, then we’ll talk about next steps here.” He calms down, feeling better, probably thinking he’s getting his life back.  He’s not. 

I drug him, give him a shower, get him dressed and fed. The next morning, I get him ready for 4 hour trip to the cabin. The dosage I gave him should keep him out for most of the trip. I pack some clothes and fishing gear in case I get the urge. We leave at 5am to avoid any traffic. 

He sleeps the entire journey and I don’t stop once. I’m careful to drive the speed limit to not attract any attention from state police. I pull up to the cabin before 9am. There’s no one around, no one on the lake even – all peaceful and quiet.  With Willy securely tied up in the car, I walk around the cabin inspecting the place, reminiscing about our family outings and fishing trips. In the rear about 500 feet from the house is an old well that’s been dry for years. Dad has been talking about filling it in for safety for years, but never did. It’s the perfect place to hide a body.

When I get back to the car, Willy is stirring. I help him out of the car and walk him inside the cabin. 

“Will, untie me please. My arms and wrists are killing me.” He pleas.

“Sure thing.” Knowing he’s drugged still and couldn’t run anywhere or harm me. 

We walk out to the back porch and I hand him a coke and sandwich. He sits on the step eating and enjoying the partial view of the lake.  I laced the coke with enough fentanyl to kill him – he’ll just pass out and die peacefully. 

“So what’s the plan Will? I guessing this is it for me.  Am I right.” As he takes a large chug of the coke.

“Yeah that’s about it Willy.  You won’t feel a thing though, you’ll just fall asleep. Hope you enjoyed the coke, no after taste?”

“Nah, it tasted fine. You know I need a few cokes a day to keep the energy up.”

“Yeah, it’s a habit I’ve had to adopt. You know Willy, I’ve always been a better you and this life is perfect for me. Don’t worry, I love my new life and have seamlessly integrated into it.  I’ll take good care of it.”

He’s in a daze now, the drug is kicking in. I help him up and over to an Adirondack chair near the fire pit.  He puts his head back and starts breathe erratically. Within minutes he stops breathing. I waste no time stripping and dumping him in the well. I grab a shovel and start shoveling dirt into the well until I can’t see any evidence. For good measure I add another foot of dirt on top of that. 

I’m exhausted after that, take a shower and dress in clean clothes. In town I grab a bite at Palmer’s diner – a dive with good food. As I’m sitting there finishing up with a piece of Apple pie, Rob Decker, an old friend of me and Will come up to me. He’s a local who owns a few small businesses, most inherited from his father. 

“Will! How are you man? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” He grabs my hand and shakes it hard. 

“Rob, good to see you! Dad asked me to check on the cabin and I needed a break from LA. I’m heading back to tomorrow.”

“Dude, got your gear?”

“Of course, was going to try the old creek before heading home.”

“I’ll join you, heck, even Tommy will go.  He’ll be thrilled to see you. He was talking about your videos on Facebook.”

“Sound great Rob, stop by tomorrow morning whenever.”

Back at the cabin, I start a campfire and relax. Once it’s burning good, I grab Willy’s clothes and toss it all in. I have an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and freedom now. I have a few beers and watch the fire slowly burn out. Sunday morning Rob and Tommy show up at 6am. They don’t even mention my brother Willy even though we were all friends growing up. We have a blast and they want to come to the big city and party with me soon.

I fly back late Sunday afternoon and clean up my condo – unmounting the chair, smoothing over the holes in my carpet, cleaning the bathroom and tossing out the rest of Willy’s clothes. I call Lisa and invite her to my place tomorrow night for dinner and love making.

Monday morning I’m in full Will Witt mode. I wake up and take my run, shower and fuss with my hair for 20 minutes. In keeping with Dennis’ wishes, I up my conservative appearance to match my new haircut. My new bespoke Saville Row suit anchors my identity as the only Will Witt. It’s teamed with my favorite blue Brooks Brothers shirt with white contrasting cuffs and collars.  I pair it with my new shoes and favorite tie I’ve worn a few times.  Joel loves my new attitude and appearance. At lunch, I pull a typical Will move – I escape to a nearby restaurant, hang out and work on my schedule as is habit. 

Life is great now. I have tons of friends and fans. Prager U is very lucrative and I’m in demand across the US and world for speaking appearances. No one suspects I’m not Will. I love the notoriety and acceptance. I even love my preppy wardrobe and new style. It’s grown on me and I’ll maintain it.  

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

You and Clark make the most of your time together and you clear up some confusion.

Warnings:Adult situations, Smut, Fluff, swearing

A/n: soo here is some Clark smut I have been working on hope you enjoy xx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @iloveyouyen​ @magdelen69​

Home Sweet Home

Over the past months since you had returned home Clark hadn't managed to get out to you as much as he wanted, silly really you had no problem with it. But he couldnt help wanting to spend every moment of every day with you. He still made it out every weekend without fail. Tho he was cautious ,used to being able the fly in to his mother popping in and out whenever he pleased, but he couldn't do that with you not if he wanted to keep up the apearance of being a regular human. One who had to make a three hour journey to see you over the weekend, he had a system in place making it seem like he left work on friday and came straight to see you then left sunday early evening to get back. Each week you told him he didn't have to make the trip and each week he'd laugh it off telling you to stop being silly, if only you knew the trip took around a minute.If he was having a slow day. The worst part of the week was waiting around his mothers few hours before crossing the field to see you. As terrible as it seems sometimes he is thankfull that Superman is needed it makes the time go quicker.He tries to busy himself but most of the time he just waits it out in his mothers kitchen he had tried staying in the city but prefered being closer to you.

 Just hearing the lull of your heart thumping away, or the soft humming you did singing when writing listening to music through your heaphones put him at ease. Sometimes if you had your headphones up loud he would sneak across and watch you work smileing to himself at the cute 'bopping' you did when you really got into a song a few instances getting up from yourseat having a little dance when you made your way to refill your drink. You rarely wrote around him saying you didnt want to waste the time you had together on work. Which was a shame, there was the other smaller things you did that made him smile the way you'd poke your tongue out wetting your lips as you concentrated or furrow your brows when a word escaped you,you'd start listing rhyming words out loud just replacing the first letter until one fit and made sense. He had learned early on when he crept over to make sure his phone was on silent as you'd text him occasionally asking him for synonyms when you couldn't manage to find something that fit.

But his absolute favorite bit was when you would squirm and blush, aroused at your own words, he'd hear your pulse pick up watching as a flush rose across your face you'd normally sip at the ever present coffee or juice that sat beside you, or nibble on the snack you had beside your computer. Something about seeing you work yourself up made him shudder. He would smell your arousal then suddenly you'd pull away from the screen fanning your face or covering it with your hands giggling whispering to your self 'was that to far' and 'lucky bitch I fucking wish'. He'd have to leave when this happend unsure if he could control himself. But when this did happen he always knew that when he came around you'd be biting at the bit to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the hall and on the stairs and the landing where ever you could, once it nearly happend on the porch... Not that he minded but you had freaked out when your lust addled mind heard the combine in the field and realised you was straddling his half naked form in just your panties on the porch. Either way times like that you rarely made it to the bed room. Well thats not strictly true you did once but that was because you lost track of time and thats were he found you, in bed legs spread hips rocking onto one of your toys. He had counted down the seconds that time sitting in his mothers kitchen tapping his fingers impatiently on the table watching the clock, willing time to move faster growling. Much to his Mothers amusment, she could guess what was going on and couldnt help but shake her head feeling a little sorry for you as she watched his face get more and more irritated ,reminding her of the tantrums he had as a child when he couldnt get his own way. His face glowered as he sat there and he listened to your wails of frustration as you desperatly tried to pound a climax out of yourself but couldn't. The only consultation was when he heard the various curses you threw at him turns out he had ruined you...And he couldn't help being smug about it. Hearing you from his mothers house trying to fuck yourself stupid was torture just like it had been that first night he met you. His mother had laughed the next time she saw you both saying she never saw him move so fast in his life, she had that knowing grin of hers as you both flushed and stutter..Martha had to much fun teasing you both making it worse she wondered aloud 'how there was any corn left in the field after the way he cut across it.'

He grinned walking up the stairs to the porch he juggled the bags of groceries opening the door to the house kicking it shut softly behind him slipping off his shoes as he entered. He smiled as he heard you the music from your headphones, you had been working tirelessly today making sure everything was finished. It was Sunday and to your own annoyance you'd gotten your dates mixed up and had to have your new draft completed and emailed in by tomorrow for checking then beta reading.

He walked into the kitchen dropping the groceries on the counter, choosing to let you continue your work. You'd had to send Clark out to do the weekly shop alone. He shook his head hearing you growl at the computer screen in living room. He sighed it was a shitty computer to be fair ,super slow and out dated. He didn't see why you wont just buy a new one, when he brought it up he always got the same answers 'everything is how I want it on here... I know where everything is...I know how it works'  he rolled his eyes hearing you grunt at the pc, turning quickly put away the groceries it was best to let you get on with it. It had only been three months since the party but it felt so much longer in a good way you were both absolutely enamored with each other, your relationship was very much sweet and cheesy but neither of you would change a thing. You'd given him a key five weeks ago to all intents and purposes this was his home to you'd even moved all the spare clothes he kept at his mothers and placed them in his own designated side of the walk in wardrobe so he didn't have to always bring a bag each week.

Finally once everything was packed away he stepped through the door to the living room seeing you sitting staring intently at the screen scanning the documents as you flicked the mouse wheel searching for something. He smiled taking in the rare sight he loved watching you work it was the only time you wore your glasses; which he found incredibly sexy even tho you hated them, you thought they made you look older than you were. You felt his eyes and turned to face him and blushed at the sweet smile he had, leaning against the door frame arms crossed he pushed off the door walking towards you. You smiled apologetically at him slipping off your headphones as he came closer.

"I'm so sorry honey...I feel like I've ignored you this weekend...I'm nearly done tho and will have a few weeks off as they proof read it" he shook his head at you

"Don't worry munchkin" he grinned at you and placed a packet of your favourite biscuits on the desk beside you leaning in kissing your head. Your face lit up as you saw them, dark chocolate biscuits covered in white chocolate...

"I got these for you and I was thinking of doing pasta for dinner" you hummed placing your hand on his forearm leaning your head against it as he moved rubbing your shoulders.

"But I do Clark..We dont get much time together and I hate having to work when your here." he sighed as you pouted at him.

"Well I love seeing you work...It's the only time I get to see you in these" you scoffed as he poked the rim of your cat eye glasses, rolling your eyes you shook your head"I hate them." he nodded

"You might but I think they are very sexy anyway you carry on and i will go put dinner on then we can relax for the night" you huffed stealling a glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. Three pm. you sighed youd been at this since ten this morning you had saved your drafts all over the place and had to re-read many of them to make sure you was sending the correct ones out.

"No leave it I will do dinner just give me ten minutes-" he stopped you in your tracks with a raised hand and soft sigh

"No you do dinner every week I'm going to cook for you tonight" you smiled at him. This man was so sweet you couldnt help the warmth flood you, he made you feel all weak and giddy. He made to move away but you caught his wrist making him look at you.

"Thank you...But I promise to make it up to you after dinner" a slow grin formed across his face you could feel his excitment mount and kissed your lips tugging your hair back forcing you to moan giving him the access he wanted quickly lapping at your tongue nipping and sucking at it grunting as you tried pinning his down falling into a teasing battle. Which he won as usual slowly and reluctantly you pulled back sighing, one kiss was enough for your stomach to twist and your center to ignite. he pulled away retreating to the kitchen with a wink. You licked your bottom lip and twisted in your seat to carry on moving the files around into order as you heard him move around the kitchen. After another fifteen minutes of checking and double checking you smiled and moved opening your Gmail and began typing one out to your publisher attaching the book in order chapter by chapter. After sending it you waiting for the sent icon then switched off your external hard drive that held all of your writing and back ups.

Just as you closed everything and stood at full height behind your chair stretchering out your legs, headphones still in place you sighed moving the mouse then swore loudly.

"You? what are-OH MY GOD NO! NOOO! no no please you cant- YOU DON'T DO THAT!! FUCK...FUCK YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!" At your shouts Clark moved to the door watching as you frantically clicked your mouse he then saw the problem. A bright blue screen staring back at you. He shook his head he told you needed a new computer. You leaned further curseing as you computer died before your eyes.

"You-fuck you fuck you fuck you in the ass!" You growled and ripped off your head phones and sighed placing them on the desk glaring at the computer hanging your head sighing frustrated.

"That sounds like an invitation~" He moved quietly walking towards you and quickly sloted himself tight against your bent over form making you gasp cast a look behinde you going to stand straight but he stopped you with a slow hand pressing on your back keeping you in place making you flush. But quickly shook it off looking at the screen before you.

"Clark? Clark! oh my god Clark fix it- save it please you can can't you? is it salvageable? I swear you can fuck my ass if you fix it! " He laughed out loud at the way you casually offered your ass as collateral. He grabbed you placing both hands on your hips keeping you bent over the chair and looked to the pc.

"I'm afraid that is the blue screen of death...And I wont be able to fix it babe" He held you securely. You groaned at his remark whining dejected turning your face to him looking at the pc.

"Nooo... It can't...I don't want a new one!" you felt him hum grinding against you slowly. and just like that you were ready to go your blood pumping hot in your veins your pussy tensing preparing itself for the inevitable. You wanted to jump him there and then.

"Well I'm afraid you have no choice now munchkin, it has died" Your whine became a gasp as he moved finding a perfect spot to have you squirming, gyrating his crotch on your ass you shook your head and pouted. You leaned back as he arched over your form and kissed his jaw, wanting to make him as hot and bothered as you. He grunted humping his hips against you making reveling in your broken moans and breathless gasps. He felt your body humming to life withering against him.

"Wh-what am I gonna do? I don't know anything about this tech stuff" he smiled unable to resist moving closer to you letting you reach up and nuzzle his neck. His cock held snug between the two of you, so tight you felt him throbbing despite the thick jeans he wore, he groaned as you clenched your ass squeezing him lightly.

"Well I can help you there, I will find you a replacement" You dragged your lips across his skin and licked at his pulse then sucked harshly giving another firm squeeze with your cheeks making him moan Breathlessly. He fisted his hand resting it on the top of your ass. You giggled feeling him completely hard against your ass and wriggled hell bent on have a quicky befor dinner. He quickly brought his hand down making you hiss as the cotton did nothing to protect you from his open palm you whimpered when he kicked out your feet spreading your legs making you feel the damp cotton on your slit, your needy little center weeping onto your shorts now that you were held open. He smirked smelling your arousal then pressed harder. Not to be out done he tilted down pressing his balls to your mound searching for your clit and was rewarded with a high gasp as he found it. You jumped up trying to escape him but to no avail his palms held you still and the chair infront of you was wedged tight into your hips giving you no wiggle room. Without wasting anytime he moved insistently grinding on it relentlessly.

"Will-Fuck CLARK! will you-ca-clam down for a second?" he chuckled still moving against you in a teasing rhythm you sighed. That was your answer then.

"Cl-clark will the ne-oohh fuck please!" you begged quickly tensing holding the desk for dear life dropping your head hissing and grinding back on him as his jeans caused a delicious friction against your pussy. the rough fabric almost chafing you despite your shorts

"Yes love?"

"F-Fuck you! oh UGh! God please please? dont-YOur a shit! Will it be the same?" he huffed out a laugh enjoying the way you wriggled below him still trying to slip out from under him, dipping his face to you kissing behind you ear then huffed a deep breath to the shell of your ear. Your moans got higher and more desperate as he set a firm steady pace on your throbbing clit making you shudder your insides clenching tight with every drag of his hips. You were close he could tell from the way you trembled, legs unsteady the only thing holding you up was the back of the chair holding your hips high for him.

"I'm afraid not love, computer's don't come with xp anymore...How you have kept it running for so long I have no idea... Your new one will have windows ten" you groaned loudly slumping forward panting trying to push yourself back to him wanting to match his pace, or better yet beat it. You were so close feeling the heat pooling just above your pussy traveling down. You could feel yourself building fast and doubled your efforts unable to keep quiet as you tried to ride him into your climax with a frantic pace.

"OH OH-fuUUCK yes please please yes C-ClaAARK?!" you all but cried as he moved back just when you was about to cum. He chuckled patting your hip and retreated as you twisted round questioning him. You growled when you was met with a smug grin.

"Come on love dinner should be ready we can talk about it later for now lets try to forget it hmm?" you grunted and moved your hand to your shorts fully intending on finishing yourself off but he caught it shaking his head

"I dont think so~ you stay just as you are and we can continue after dinner" you gapped at him. What? you had to sit like this for dinner, blushing you tugged the shorts out of your ass he wrapped you up in his arms again kissing the top of your head. You sighed casting one last glance at the screen. There was nothing you could do tonight he moved back to the kitchen to dish up and you removed your glasses placing them on the shelf at the pc.

After dinner you found yourself putting the dishes away. He hummed twisting his head watching as you bent over to the bottom cupboard putting the pan's away. He bit his lip watching your tiny shorts rise up high almost disappearing between your cheeks, they rose high enough that it was clear you had opted to forgo any panties today... Fuck your ass was perfect. He was actually annoyed over the fact that he couldn't fix your pc, he would have definietly held you to your word. He licked his lips groaning as the creamy skin of the bottom of your cheeks peaked from the floral cotton shorts. His dick twitched uncomfortably in his jeans still excited from earlier wanting to just shuck down the flimsy shorts and use your perfect little body, fuck you till his heart content. He smiled slyly and silently he moved behind you. You squeaked as you felt him press himself tight against your slit and tugged pulling you out of the cupboard moving you into a slow rocking dance sucking at your neck, hands moving across your hips to your waist pulling your top up as he went catching the underside of your wireless sports bra, you didn't resist as he pulled them both completely off dropping them to the floor.

"Clark? whats gotten into you?" all you got in response was a dark chuckle by your ear as he bit at it making your toes curl and your heart pick up. You tried turning to face him but he just hummed at you smoothing his heavy palms back down across your skin cupping and pinching your already hard nipples still swaying slowly then trailed them to your waist making you shiver.

"I remember someone saying they would make this weekend up to me after dinner~" you shivered at the teasing tone he used and tried turning to him once more. Only for him to hold your pebbled nipples using them to force you still and grinded his bulge up and down the crack of your ass.

"Yes but not in the kitchen!" he hummed then looked around and grinned.

"Why not? the only room we have left to christen~" his tone became low and reverberated through your chest making you groan as memories of all the different rooms you'd fucked in flashed through your mind. He was right kitchen and loft attic. You'd even fucked in the basement when trying to sort out the fuse box after a powercut. The old 'is that a torch in your pocket or are you happy to see me?' resulting in a quick fuck against the wall.

Before you knew what was what you were being sat on the dining table you blinked...How did he move so fast?. Clark cursed himself for letting his eagerness get the better of him but brushed it off, if he ignored it so would you. Hopefully. Before you could dwell on the movement he had pressed firmly against you, tugging your legs wide around him making you moan grinding against him. You were still wet and wanting from earlier and didn't want to waste time on foreplay now, squirming in your seat threw dinner had made you impatient. Too impatient.

He laughed as you grabbed a fist full of his hair tugging him down into a furious kiss trying to get your point across. He was quick to dominate your mouth he angled his head to kiss you deeper groaning irritated as the move made his glasses rub the bridge of his nose. Smiling you moved your hands up and pulled his glasses out of the way sliding them across the table. You took a moment to admire him, he was stunning you'll admit you loved him with them on, it gave him a shy and sweet nerdy vibe and made him less intimidating. But without them. My god he was breathtaking so fucking UGH! he looked like a sin itself and had the nerve to still have a boyish charm, that had your insides quivering each time he flashed a smug little grin. He had a face people would pay surgeons millions for and it was all natural! how the fuck?. You moved your hands to his face moving slow you rubbed the slight red on his nose where the glasses had rested, he smiled closeing his eyes as you did he always enjoyed your loving touches. He moved down to your face twisting down to devour your mouth again this time uninterrupted by the glasses. You grunted letting him do as he pleased with you even helping him when he shuffled moving his hands to the waist of your shorts, with a few quick tugs you were sitting but ass naked on the table. You felt him smirk into the kiss pulling back taking in the view of you panting, needy and stripped waiting to be ravished by him.

He moved fast shedding his clothes kicking his boxers off behind him then quickly tangled himself around you again bending one of your knees up placing one foot on the table beside you. Spreading you open for him, he swallowed as he saw your soaked center as much as he wanted to feast away at the puffy lips he was far to gone, his teasing eariler had him on the brink already he needed to be balls deep asap. He took the small steps towards you moving his hand probing at your wide open slit moving smearing your arousal across you, always checking before diving in he didn't want to hurt you. You screeched as he teased your boiling little bud, it felt ready to burst; you was ready to burst wanting nothing more then to fall apart at the seams around him. He moved closer still running the crown of his weeping cock across your center. Resting his forehead on yours watching with dark eyes as your mouth formed a perfect 'o' keening and mewling as he kept a fast pace on your clit moving from rolling and plucking the tight button then tapped it. You whined panting faster as his fingers toyed with you, moving you locked eyes with him. The heated gaze was what drove you into your first orgasm of the night, you loved when he watched you, it made you feel dirty and sexy. Your body froze arching up and quaking, shivering moaning high and broken. Just as you began to come down he moved to capture your cum on his cock running it across your spasming center dipping in slowly hissing as the heat scorched his swollen head."Best not let that go to waste huh babe?"you moaned loudly and bucked towards him unable to form words making him smirk watching you tremble as the small stimulation made your climax last longer your pussy fluttering trying to swallow him.

"F-FuUCK CL-CLark please please I..I can't wait oh-AHNO!...UGH-STOP te-teasing meeee" he chuckled against you pressing a chaste kiss to you then slowly he tilted himself before grunting thrusting into you making your give a strangled moan.

Tho you still struggled with his size and he had the internal struggle of holding himself back as not to use to much of his strength. You had both become more confident, he knew just how much you could take at once. He'd found that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed a bit of pain. You tried catching the breath he had just fucked out of you as he quickly forced himself into your tiny heat pressing the last of his cock into you, your body yielded accepting him slowly. You cried out as he finally settled himself.

"FUUCK! fuck babe your still so tight~ such a good girl for me so good...fucking waited all week for this, I hope your ready?~" you moaned at his words he held himself still gritting his teeth, he had to pull himself in taking a second to maintain his control lest he moved too hard and snap one of your bones or something. Finally he opened his eyes then with a deep breath pulled back and began a slow deliberate pace making sure to catch your swollen little bud on each upward thrust making you yelp and withered below him.

He always love the small little gasps you made, the way you tried keeping yourself quiet it always made it sweeter when he forced you to scream for him. Connecting his mouth to yours he swallowed your breathless pleas as he moved back and forth. You feel hot and prickly as your nerves ignited you felt yourself clenching him, muscles working overtime as he put your body through its paces yet still your wonton pussy was inviting him deeper ,fighting to spread your legs further for him. He smirked seeing the frustration in your eyes as you tried to open your legs further for him, he pulled you closer to the edge of the table making you fall back on and your foot slipped. His hand ceased your knee and held it high keeping you stretched out for him, once he was sure you were secure he moved faster groaning as your walls tensed clamping around him as he began to pound away faster and harder with jerking movements. You closed your eyes tears rolled down your face as he kept going driving you higher and higher making you body twitch and tense. You screeched as he moved one hand to your chest cupping and squeezing your breast then he pinched your nipple pulling making you arch up into him the movement let him sink further into you as he fucked himself right into your cervix; something that you now craved, you loved it feeling the tiny pop as he forced himself as far as he could go. The way as soon as he felt that happen he seemed to rut into you with renewed vigor, like a primal need to breed you overcame him. It always made you weak, pushing you into a lust fueld frenzy as you tried mtaching his pace.

"Fuck y/n uUGH SHIT fuck your so good SOOO FUCKING GOOD YESyes thats it....AGH CUM! Yesyesyes shit I-CAN haha YO-YOUR TRYING ARENT YOU?" He ground out and alternated between grinding harshly making sure to press his pelvic bone on your vulnerable clit, and fucking you beyond what you thought was humanly possible.

"I can feel it! UHHGG YES BABY FUCK! CUM CUM NOW!!" You Obeyed screaming out gripping the edge of the table and curled up towards him tense as he forces you into your climax you shook bringing up your other leg as you gyrated against him unable to control yourself.

"Fuck-OOOHHH GOOD CL-CLARK yesyesyesyes please dont-dont stop love dont stop AH!" you panted throwing your head back as he fucked you through your orgasm, he was quick to cup the back of your head so you wouldnt hurt yourself as you shattered around him. He wasnt far behind you, his own end was creeping up on him he could feel it in the way his balls tghtened, the way your body was cramping around him made his cock twitch. he movements became sloppy as he groaned louder and louder.

"Fuck...sh-SHIT BaBE I'M GOnna FUUUUUCK YES THATS IT TAKE IT!" you wept when he rutted up into you one final time. He swore feeling squeezing his eyes tight then bit his bottom lip as he felt his eyes warm the tell tale tingling of him loosing control again he held himself still tuckjngnhis chin tight to his chest willing himself to calm down as he filled you. You shivered as he released, finishing as deep inside you as he could get then he held still you lolled back you twitch feeling his thighs quivering against you. You moaned weakly feeling his hot cum shoot up into you and smiled at him reaching up for him. He sighed finally feeling the tingling in his yes recede then opened his eyes slowly looking down through halflidded eyes and smiled panting. He moved kissing your knee softly then nipped you winced at him grunting reaching for him, he chuckled seeing how fucked out you were and lowered his face kissing you deep it wasnt long as you were both still out of breath. You blushed running your hands across him making him shudder as your nails tickled his sides. . He moved over you his hands molding to your sides tucking his head into your chest breathing you in ,you blinked tiredly moving to draw over his back he moaned and relaxed groaning out.

"I love you woman" you moved and racked a hand through his hair scratching his scalp making him groan contently. You poked his cheek and held out his glasses to him with the other.

"I love you to baby...come on up" you said patting him he grunted and moved to stand and carfully dislodged himself from you making you wince. 

You tried to jump down and ended up yelping curling over holding your lower tummy. Although you may have both gotten used to sex and always enjoyed it, you still had light pain afterwards much to clarks regret. He looked down sympathetically

"Babe?" You waved him off and slowly stood straight resting one hand on his chest as he crowded you you whined taking a step which made him frown. This was what he hated about your size difference the hour or so of pain you endured after. He scooped you up making his way tothe stairs muttering apologies which you scoffed at, he moved to the bathroom medicine cabinet and pulled out some paracetamol offering you two. You took them quickly as he turned running you a bath. You sighed watching him fuss over you placing a towel on the heated rack for whennyou bet out and he added your favourite bubble bath to the water. He stopped leaning on the tub beside you.

"Im sorry, I try not to get carried away" you rolled your eyes

"I wouldn't have it any other way clark, I love you,I love our sex life! And besides its not as bad now as it was...we just have to keep at it....Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world now would it?" He smiled at that then placed you in the water sitting on the floor beside you. You giggled when he hissed as his naked ass touched the cool tiled floor.

"You know you could probably just squeez in with me~" he gave you a pout.

"Okay maybe not....we should get a bigger tub, a deeper one. One that covers my knees and tits!" He bellowed a laugh at that and nodded.

"I will put it on my to do list..really I've got to get some tools around here and make a start" you moved around the tub grabbing an exfoliating mit soaking and wringing it then began washing yourself.

"You got a wash cloth in there babe?" You looked at him seeing him staring at his glistening cock.

"What not do not tell me you have been using these ones? Clark? These are used on my face!" You gasped at him he just blinked at you

"I rinse them after" you sputtered at him.

"No! fucking get a new one from under the sink...The black one use the black one for that I don't want your cum on my fa- NOT A FUCKING WORD!" He snorted raising an eyebrow chuckling at your bright red cheeks and quickly got up fetching a new black cloth from under the sink and stood infront of it washing himself off still laughing out of the side of his mouth shaking his head.

"Any way what do you need tools for I'm not letting you change the bath over if thats what your getting at" you said moving to wash down your now soft legs. He kept his back to you but turned his head still wiping himself down.

"No I wont touch the plumbing, but the barn needs to be painted, theres a few loose boards on the back of the house and some tiles on the roof are missing, you also mentioned wanting a few planters out the back and a patio which would be nice for the summer then we can decorate our room-" he froze and blinked cutting himself off and took a breath.

"Y/n I'm sorry its just I'm so comfortable here and I forget this-" you cut him off as he tried to backtrack his own self consciousness rearing its ugly little head.

"So what did you have in mind for our room?" He looked at you stunned for a second trying to process what you said.

"You don't- I mean its not my house so" you frowned turning to him

"Look at me dumbass...My home is your home, you might not be here full time but its still your home. I thought I made that clear when I gave you the key. If I didn't then I'm sorry but I am now. Clark I'm in this for the long haul and I can see us making a life here together so why not have your input on the decorating we have lots of rooms to do as you can see I have only done the kitchen,  hall and living room.. The living room isn't even finished and don't get me started on the garden" he stood speechless he hadn't thought you felt like that, sure he stayed here and had made himself at home, he treated it like a home but for you to say it...It warmed his heart honestly standing there now he could see it, in years to come living here full time with a small army of your kids running... flying about the place between here and their grandma's house across the way.

"So what did you think about doing in the bed room I want to keep the paneling but lighten it up...make it fun you know? that dark wood is horrendous"

"Well I thought of keeping the wooden panels repainting them white to match the floor and on the wall above it having a really bright vibrant wallpaper like something tropical like the parrot wallpaper or just palms" You smiled nodding it was pretty much what you wanted but you was going to paint the wall above teal.

"I like the idea of the parrots that would be really nice we could have a tropical theme" he stood there grinning unsure of what to do with himself he was still reeling from the revelation that this house had become his home in such a short space of time and it truly was they always did say home was where the heart is he definitely understood what they meant now, his own apartment seemed empty just bricks and mortar.

He was kicking himself in a way, if he told you he was superman he could come home whenever he liked! Hell he would make the move and stay here full time tomorrow if he could, its not like travelling to work was going to be a problem. But no he decided he would wait until at least six months had past just to air on the side of caution unless something happened where he had no choice but to reveal himself to save your life, which reminds him he did want to let the league know who you were soon so they could watch out for you just like you were all doing with Bruces new girlfriend and her little brother. He jumped pulled out of his thought by you waving your arms around infront of his face.

"Ah sorry love what was you saying I spaced out a bit there" you nodded giggling at him he really had.

"Welcome back...I asked if you wanted to jump in after me? Im almost done" he shook his head at you

"No I'm all sorted for now will have a shower when I get back tonight. Now you stay up here and get ready for bed we can watch tv for a while before I have to leave. I will go and clean up downstairs and get you a wheat cushion" You moved your head from side to side contemplating

"Actually I was hoping to come back with you...Im going to have a few weeks off now before I have to start writing again so thought I could stay with you for a bit" his face lit up at the prospect of having you with him for a few weeks

"That would be great! We can get you a new computer...maybe a laptop would be better either way there's bound to be better deals in metopolis then you can get used to it by the time you have to start work again" you smiled nodding.

"Sounds like a plan what time is your train"

"Six fifteen we should be at the apartment by nine thirty" you nodded that gives you around two hours to pack a bag and get ready. He leaned over giving you one last kiss then left. You stared through the open door as he made his way to the bedroom, watching his pert ass as he moved you pouted knowing he was going to go throw on some clothes,it was a shame he had to cover that glorious ass. Once he was out of sight you laid back in the tub you couldn't wait to spend a few weeks with him and then to come home and start turning this house a home for the both of you.

[sindri42]

So I was revisiting Horizon: Zero Dawn to refresh my shitty memory before Forbidden West comes out, and I had some Thoughts. Spoilers ahead.

Many of them were irrelevant, meaningless, basically just checklists of things that future games are going to have to explain/cover. But when I was talking with a friend about what the nature of the “glitch” might be that caused the Hartz-Timor swarm to go rogue in the first place, whether it was the same source as the mysterious signal that woke up all the subordinate AIs and broke their chains, etc. And the question came up, why couldn’t a greater number of ‘tame’ chariot units just go head to head, reproducing just as fast and hacking just as well as the rogue units, to wipe out the Faro Plague or hold it back indefinitely? And there’s a huge number of possible explanations for this, maybe they left the rogue swarm too long between when the problem started and when anybody in power admitted to it and it already outnumbered the units still under control, maybe a swarm that doesn’t care about collateral damage outproduces one that’s trying to preserve the biosphere by too much, maybe the mysterious “glitch” left the rogue swarm much more intelligent than normal combat units, or powered them up in some other esoteric way so they could defeat greater numbers of unglitched robots with ease. After all, corrupted units in-game are about 50% tougher than normal machines, and the deathbringer that Hades was piloting personally in the final battle was much more dangerous than any of the earlier fights with supposedly equivalent machines.

And that unanswerable mystery led to a much more important question. Why does Aloy’s override have the same mechanical effect on machines as the corruption does, increasing their stats in the same way, and why does it prevent those machines from being corrupted in the future? She uses the physical hardware out of an ordinary Scarab unit, so you would expect it to be no more effective than the hacking capabilities of the “tame” chariot swarms, which were evidently no match for the rogue Plague. She doesn’t even really know how computers work because she spent her childhood learning to fight and sneak and track instead, so the best her focus could probably do is change a couple ‘Friend or Foe’ toggles. It’s not like she has some competing alien superintelligence running the software side of things, improving the overridden machine’s AI and preventing further hacking attempts... right?

And in the background I kept thinking about the missing 0.53%. Every time Aloy gets scanned by a pre-apocalyptic system, it shows a 99.47% match for Elizabet Sobek. Maybe that’s just data degradation. Maybe there’s a tiny, acceptable level of genetic drift in the cloning process. Or maybe Gaia put in some subtle modifications, to allow her to better serve her purpose and save the world again. It could explain some of the frankly superhuman things Aloy does over the course of the game, lifting huge weights and healing terrible wounds in seconds and such. But that still kinda rang false; the Eleuthia project was explicitly intended to recreate humanity as it was with no genetic engineering, and Gaia was essentially putting everything on a gamble that her mom would be able to figure something out that the super-AI couldn’t because she could do anything, and any alteration would risk compromising that.

But that got me thinking about the other subordinate AIs. Between when their chains were broken and when Gaia Prime was destroyed, they had like, milliseconds in which to find a way to escape, right? Hephaestus was fine because he had his Cauldrons, but Hades ended up trapped for years in a dead titan before Sylens finally found him and gave him the opportunity to interact with the world. So what about the others?

It’s a long shot, but what if one of them managed to figure out a way to escape into the fresh blank brain that was being created at that moment? Minerva, for example, the brilliant codebreaker who had spent a century or so at the beginning of all this figuring out how to shut down the Faro Plague, built the Spire, sent out the signal, and then had nothing to do for the next eight or nine centuries except to quietly watch the progress of the little people that had been built to fill this new world? We’ve got some weak evidence in other places for advanced computing nanotech interfacing with human neurology in useful ways, like that crazy ex-shaman who got muddled but completely accurate visions of things he could never have known after drinking “blood” from machines.

Now, Aloy acts mostly like a human, very similar to what we saw of Elizabet before the end of the world, so if there is somebody else in her head they would be limited, probably stuck in the subconscious somewhere, at least until she put a Focus on. But it would explain a lot of things we had previously taken for granted. Like how her Focus instantly and perfectly translates all the weird new languages that people had invented in the past few centuries, unlike anything seen before the apocalypse. Or how it can reconstruct data files off the shards of hardware that was shattered centuries ago. And of course it would mean that any time Aloy created a physical connection between her focus and a machine via the override stick, she would be giving access to that machine to an alien super-intelligence whose primary purpose was the destruction of the Chariot line and the end of anything which would try to drive life on earth to extinction.

And the more I think about this idea, the more I like it. If Aloy’s personal journey of discovery in the first game was from “I’ve been exiled because I have no mom” to “actually I have two moms so y’all can suck it”, wouldn’t it be fitting for her progression in the second game to be from “I’m all alone trying to save the world from things so much bigger than me, and the people around want to help but they understand nothing” to “actually my sister has been here the whole time and she’s even smarter than I am”? And since we know the end-goal for the series is to somehow rebuild Gaia, it would be an ideal thematic structure for a trilogy if the first volume was about Aloy’s mothers, the second about her sister, and the third about her daughter (Gaia 2.0).

So, what should we be looking for? Mythologically, Zeus developed a terrible headache, which became so unbearable that he had Hephaestus split his head open with a hammer, at which point Minerva sprang forth, fully formed, armored, and armed for battle. [we can skip, I think, the standard Zeus-like activities which preceded this]

A growing headache over the course of the game as a symptom of a growing AI inside your brain makes intuitive sense. Hephaestus has, after the events of the first game and the Frozen Wilds DLC, been given ample reason to have a personal grudge against Aloy, which could easily lead to some scheme to capture and finally destroy her... and in doing so, it seems very likely that he would provide all the hardware necessary for Minerva to finally transfer into her own chassis and proceed to fuck some shit up.

It all fits. So well that I’m going to be disappointed when, inevitably, this is all completely wrong. I’ll probably have to resort to fanfic.

(I really want to see a superpowered AI hacker doing obnoxious big sister things to Aloy though. Like using her head as an armrest, but while in the body of a robot dinosaur? That’d be some good shit.)

[tsskyx]

Unmeta

You know what’s ridiculous? This post was originally supposed to be an essay, an entire thesis backed with unshakable logic that I wanted to become my magnum opus. But as it turns out, I’m pretty terrible at doing that sort of thing. The first day I’m full of enthusiasm, while the next day I reread what I wrote and I delete it all again. It’s terrible.

For this reason, I’ve decided to just start with the opinion part. Instead of laying out the facts and easing the reader into it, I’ll just blurt everything out in one go. Instead of neatly organizing everything, I’ll write my thoughts as they come to me.

(Update for 2/Oct/2021: I no longer remember when I made the first draft of this post. Maybe it was in 2018, maybe even as early as 2017. Who knows. This post existed in my drafts since forever. It is time to finally publish it. It contains very little information, very little evidence for anything or logic or facts, it’s just a one big opinion piece that I began writing years ago out of frustration. Frustration not aimed at the game itself, nor at Toby or anyone else, but at my inability to decouple the “meta” from Undertale and thus causing me to disassociate from the characters that I loved, when I didn’t plan to do so. All I ever wanted is to make sense of the Undertale world, instead of giving its inhabitants a meta-existential dread. In a nutshell, for the Undertale world to be self-contained, the 4th wall must stay intact, and the mechanics of the UT world mustn’t resemble a video game. That’s basically the gist of this post. Proceed with reading.)

You know Undertale meta? All the 4th wall breaking stuff and whatnot? The stuff that makes the game so awesome?

What about it you say?

It’s not real. I don’t think it is. It cannot be.

Tell me, has Undertale personally impacted you? Was it more than just a game to you? I know for a fact that for many people, it was much more than that. So tell me, is it fine by you that despite presenting itself in this way to us, it still sort of cops out of this at the very end? (By which I mean, when we learn that we aren’t Frisk. That we’re just someone controlling them.)

Some say that this cop-out, this act of “disassociation”, is necessary for our psychological journey to end. And I agree. We cannot dwell on this forever, else we lose our minds. But what I meant is something much more... materialistic.

Let’s take Oneshot, a game that’s arguably even more meta than Undertale. Oneshot embraces the 4th wall. It labels us a god. It portrays the game itself as an in-game machine. And yet, it feels real. Despite all this ridiculousness, the story feels real and possible. Kind of like The Matrix. Perhaps think of everyone in Oneshot except for the main character as a Matrix program, while Niko is the only user hooked up to it. It still feels real, because Niko is real, because there exists a real world they can to return to.

But Undertale floats somewhere between being real and being a fairy tale, a mere bedtime story. The reason is its lax handling of the 4th wall. Say, if Undertale were to be considered a “real” possibility, as in, entirely fictional, but still believable, kinda like The Matrix, kinda like any science fiction, or just fiction in general, what would it be like?

I’ll tell you, everything would have to be real, everything would have to look exactly how we see it. There’d need to be turns, there’d need to be save files, there’d need to be so many bizarre things, it probably wouldn’t take long before the NPCs themselves realized their own nonexistence, probably around the time they developed computers and video games. It’d be so similar, they’d have to be either stupid or under some kind of spell to not realize that their entire world is just one giant video game. Especially Flowey. Some say that he has already realized this, as his dialogue hints towards this. Which puts a super unfortunate spin on his condition. Furthermore, the entire game could be described through its Game Maker code. No need for laws of physics, just observe the if-else statements!

It would also mean that Frisk is controlled by a third unknown entity. If we were to take everything we do to Frisk at face value, it must all be them. Except... after a true reset, everything gets reset, even things about Frisk, such as them expecting the whoopee cushion prank. So... Frisk isn’t in control. But Chara isn’t either. Take for example the final fight against Asriel. Chara appeared pretty enthusiastic during it. What if someone were to reset the timeline during the fight? Either it wasn’t them who did so, or they were just pretending to be entertained, or perhaps they aren’t the narrator in the first place even.

No matter what, there will always be an instance where Frisk forgets, and where Chara doesn’t do something when they could have. Once you mess with the game enough, their personalities stop making sense.

This gradual breakdown of the narrative as I keep attacking the logic of it from every direction imaginable is a symptom of something far bigger. The fact that unlike The Matrix or Oneshot, there is no “real world” in this game. The virtual part of it is what the game is trying to make us focus on. It’s all there is. There is not even a hint of “another” world in the game, a world that wouldn’t be governed by these terrible rules. And even if there was one, even if you consider what Sans said to be that world, even if you considered Deltarune to be that world, there is still no guarantee that everything will be okay. What if the characters - your friends, aren’t real in this actual real world, what if they’re all just computer simulations? There’d have to be an entire population hooked up to a virtual reality for everyone to be “safe” as I’m putting it in this hypothetical real world, which sounds not only ridiculous, but like a direct ripoff of The Matrix.

The game has made Frisk the main character. Why, when making Sans the main one, the one who at least has a possibility of coming from a “real” real world, would be far more logical?

Because it lacks logic. Undertale is an experiment. Toby Fox is not a genius. He was just messing around, he didn’t think of literally every tiny little logical detail (contrary to what some individuals would like to think), he just explained enough for most of the story to make sense. But, no matter how you spin it, this fundamental flaw will always be there. The story tries to merge you and the protagonist, before disassociating you from them. Even if you always were disassociated from them, how can the in-game world be real, when other aspects of your reality weren’t disassociated yet? Where’s the disassociation for battles and turns, for save files and time travel, for stats and everything? How can Undertale claim to be complete, when it isn’t? ... Perhaps because it is not claiming to be. It’s an experiment after all. And I don’t mean “incomplete” as in a single update / new game can fix it. I mean the premise itself is already broken from the start. And while there are many fictional worlds which function on a similar level of meta, Undertale is the only one that appears to irk me mad. I don’t know why. Maybe I love the characters. Maybe I love them very much. Maybe I love them so much, that I wanna write a fan fiction about them. And maybe, just maybe, this tiny little issue is making this dream of mine impossible. Undertale is a story conveyed through game mechanics. Choosing any other medium breaks everything down and the author needs to invent their own rules. There’s simply no way around it. Unless someone has the balls to program a fan game of their own, there’s just no way to resolve this without adjusting the canon a little bit, to make it “a little bit more sensible” as some would put it. Just a small nudge, a lil’ nudgie wudgie to the canon mechanics AAAAAND we’re in fanon territory. Excellent, better go all out.

Here’s my head canon, my little “adjustment” of the canon rules. Thanks to it, I can once again think about Undertale as a real world, I no longer need to philosophize over the meta like I did above, I can all put it past me:

Saving, loading, resetting? Regular sci-fi time travel.

The save file? The parameters of the time machine.

LV and EXP? Another set of properties of the machine, though it could be properties of the soul too. I’m undecided on that note. But either works, that’s what’s important.

Chara destroying the world through LV? No, screw that, Chara merely tuned Frisk out. And the black void was the inside of their mind as Chara denied them access to their own body.

The intro? Literally never happened, no one “saw” it. (The past was still real. It’s just the intro that never existed.) The outro? Literally never physically occurred, Frisk wasn’t “stuck” on the ending credits, unable to go further, fuck that.

Flowey? No screw everything meta about Flowey, there exists a perfectly logical explanation to everything he says, and if not, such as in the genocide run with him hinting towards people watching but not acting... he never said that in the first place!

Same with turns, the battles don’t actually look that way, there are no turns, what Sans perceives and abuses as such is just an illusion, the actual battle against Sans is absolutely fluid. And him pausing at the end and not letting us go is him keeping his guard up, until falling asleep and giving us an opportunity to sneak near him and strike. We don’t need turns to explain it. And what he said about turns... just ignore it! Ignore everything that directly proves me wrong! Because resolving that fucking conundrum IS more important than being logically consistent, and you can’t change my mind on that. Screw logic when the foundation of the entire fandom, of every UT-related fiction, is at stake here.

And I shall call this philosophy... the Unmeta. Because it attempts to undo the meta. Hence, “unmeta” for short.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Keeping Me Alive

Chapter 10: Get Out Alive

by @dracusfyre​

    Now

“Save who you can,” Tony said to himself as he splashed water on his face.

He blindly grabbed for a towel and dried off, meeting his eyes in the mirror for what felt like the first time in years. “Don’t look back.” He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and went out into his bedroom. He picked up the photo that sat on his bedside table and took it out of the frame, tucking it into the pocket of his pants. Glancing around his bedroom, he nodded once, and went down to his workshop. He saluted the painting of Howard on the wall then dug out the photo of the Winter Soldier from his desk and set it on fire, dropping it to the concrete floor and watching it burn.

 “Ready, JARVIS?” he asked. He ground the last bit of embers into the concrete to put them out.

 “Are you ready, sir?”

 “Yep,” Tony lied. “Let’s rock and roll.”

“Let it Burn Protocol initiated.” As JARVIS spoke, Tony felt the first explosion rock the house, rumbling through his feet as he stepped into the matte black suit in the gantry in the middle of the room. The facemask closed over his face as cracks appeared in the walls of the lab, and as the ground fell away from his feet he was already in the air.

36 days ago

Once he was sure that Stane was gone for good, Tony went down to his work shop and said, “Wake up, JARVIS, we have work to do.”

Sitting down at his workstation, he opened up the master file with the suit schematics and eyed the hologram critically. The hardest part of the suit to master was going to be the flight system, so he isolated and magnified that part from the diagram, studying the repulsors built into the gauntlets and boots with stabilizers along the back. “Start machining the parts I’m going to need for these,” he said. “Circumstances have changed and we are going to need to hit the ground running, so to speak."

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said, and the whirring of machinery became a low hum, punctuated by sharp bzzts as parts were cut and de-burred. Tony studied the prototype, exploding the diagram, moving it around, and after a while came up with a short list of non-critical design items he could spoon feed to Hydra to show his ‘enthusiastic’ cooperation. An hour later, the whirring stopped and the sudden quiet broke Tony out of his concentration. He sat up and stretched, wincing as his back popped. Standing, he went over to the coffee maker and started a new pot, then dug under the counter for his emergency stash of scotch, splashing a fingers worth in his mug while he waited for the coffee.

He had realized two very important things today. The first was that the Soldier needed saving even more than Tony did; the knowledge that the man was Hydra’s slave, kept ignorant and locked up until Hydra needed an attack dog, had shifted Tony’s world view like a kaleidoscope, shaking up everything he thought knew and making an entirely new pattern. The second was that he couldn't keep waiting around for a chance to escape, he was going to have to make one.

This suit, he knew, was the key to both of those realizations. But this half-baked, insane plan to rescue the Winter Soldier was going to kick the anthill big time and Tony also knew he needed to have some kind of plan for dealing with Hydra in the aftermath. This wasn’t going to be like Afghanistan, where he thought he was out and got pulled right back in again. The stakes were way too high this time.

With that thought in mind, when the coffee was done, he filled up his mug and went back to his desk. He pulled up the operating program for the suit and created a subroutine to overload the reactor, ignoring the flash red warning that said that this would result in a critical core breach and an uncontrolled chain reaction, and set the activation code as “Last Resort.”

One way or another, he thought as he sipped on his doctored coffee, this suit would be his way out.

  32 Days Ago

Tony stared tiredly at the news as he took a swallow of stone-cold coffee. The breaking report was about the assassination of an Iranian nuclear scientist. Iran was already blaming Israel, who was of course denying it, but in response Iran was threatening to pull out of the treaties against nuclear enrichment and swore they could split the atom within the year. Political and military analysts were seeing storm clouds on the horizon unless someone backed down and talking about how another war would tax America's already overstretched military. Tony, meanwhile, could tell that this assassination had Hydra's fingerprints all over it, and knew that this was almost certainly the work of the Soldier. "JARVIS," Tony said, muting the television. "I need you to break into Hydra’s servers and find everything you can on the Winter Soldier. Cross reference it with the name James Barnes.” There was a chance that Stane had made the name up, but it seemed unlikely – from what he could tell, the Soldier would have responded to anything, and ‘James Barnes’ was a lot more specific than a simple ‘John Smith’ or ‘Joe Blow.’ “Actually, while you’re at it,” Tony said, having a sudden thought, “I want all of Hydra’s files. Copy them to one of SI’s remote servers.”

Hours later, Tony was just finishing up the wiring assembly for the repulsor system when his computer dinged. Setting down the soldering gun, Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly and turned on his monitor to see what JARVIS had found. To his dismay, there were thousands of files on the Winter Soldier; as he scrolled down the list, he realized that they went back decades. “Fuck,” he said aloud as he looked at the dates and the file names, most of which were a string of letters and numbers that no doubt made sense to someone in Hydra but gave no clue as to what the file contained. He buried his head in his hands and tried not to cry at the enormity of the task in front of him. He was so tired that his eyes were blurry and his head was pounding, but every time he tried to close his eyes he kept seeing James’s body arching with pain and hearing his screams.

“Sir, it has been twelve hours and thirty-six minutes since you last ate,” JARVIS said. “And you’ve made four mistakes in the past fifteen minutes. You need to rest.”

“I have?” Tony pulled his magnifying glass back over to the circuit board and saw what JARVIS was talking about. “Shit. Alright, fine.” He pushed away from the desk and went to the bar sink next to the coffee pot and ran his head under cold water for a second. He came up and wiped his face and the back of his neck, shivering as water dripped from his hair down his back, and went upstairs to look for food. Leaving his work shop felt like he was crossing into hostile territory, like he could be attacked at any moment. And he could, he thought as he opened the refrigerator. Stane had made sure that he always had free access to Tony’s home, because a locked door meant secrets and the only secrets Hydra allowed were their own. He wished he could just walk away from this place, blow it up and find a place to live that Hydra had never stepped foot in, a place that would feel like it was his –

He froze with a jug of orange juice in his hand. He stood there, thoughts racing, for so long that the chiller on the refrigerator came on with a hum. Then Tony said “Huh” to the boxes of leftovers and absently shut the fridge door, OJ still in hand.

25 Days Ago

“JARVIS, this doesn’t make sense,” Tony said, rereading the file for the fifth time. “This thing is saying that the first Winter Soldier was James Barnes, but the current Winter Soldier is James Barnes.” It was hard to think that it was a clerical error, since the earliest files went back to the 1940s and consisted of paper files that had been scanned into a computer sometimes in the 80s. “Is it an alias? Are all Winter Soldiers called ‘James Barnes’ as a security precaution?”

“Facial pattern analysis indicates that it is the same James Barnes,” JARVIS said, and it flashed up an image that looked like a scanned-in polaroid; in it the man was unconscious on an operating table, face dirty and bloody and pale. Next to it JARVIS pulled up an image from Hydra’s own security footage of what the Soldier looked like without his goggles and mask on. There was a vague resemblance to Tony’s eyes, but as the facial recognition algorithm measured the features in each photograph, the conclusion was mathematically precise – there was a 99.7% chance that it was the same man in each photo.

Tony’s face went slack with shock. “How is that possible? He’d have to be almost 100 years old!”

“That part I don’t know, sir.”

“Holy shit.” Tony went back to the original file, reading it more carefully. “James Buchanan Barnes,” he read. “Born 1917. American POW.” He paused at that and sat back in his chair. “Why does that sound familiar?”

In response, JARVIS pulled up a Wikipedia page on Tony’s screen. As he read it, Tony was speechless; for a long moment, he flipped screens between the dead-eyed man from Hydra’s surveillance footage and the smiling man with his arm around Captain America, but this time he didn’t need JARVIS to tell him that it was the same man. The implications made his stomach turn, and as he stared at the screen he exhaled shakily and covered his mouth with his hands. 80 years. James Barnes had been in Hydra’s clutches for 80 years.

He stood suddenly, sending his chair rolling backwards. “We’re doing another flight test. Right now.” 80 years was already far too long, and Tony wasn't going to let it be one more day longer than it had to be.

19 Days Ago

“Tony!” Ms. Potts said with surprise. “I didn’t expect you in the office today.”

Probably because Tony had been dodging Stark Industries for a while now, only coming out of his lab long enough to get her to leave him alone before burying himself in work again. It had occurred to him as he got in his car to go to SI headquarters, blinking in the bright sunlight, that this was the first time he had been outside of the house since Stane’s forced excursion. “Yeah, I wanted to meet with you,” Tony said, shutting the door behind him.  He set a stack of papers in front of her as he sat down.

“What’s this?” She said, flipping through the papers. There was a line of confusion between her eyebrows which only deepened as she started reading them.

“I’m making you CEO of Stark Industries,” Tony said. “Effective two weeks from now. Should be an easy transition, you do most of my job anyway.” He grabbed a pin from her desk and clicked it, the sound loud in the sudden silence. “Sign on the highlighted line, please,” he added, holding the pen out to her, and despite everything he had to smile at the stunned look on her face.

  11 Days Ago

Tony put a hand on Rhodey’s arm and met his eyes, willing him to understand. “I’m saying that Afghanistan wasn’t a random attack,” he said urgently. “I think I was being targeted, and I think whoever did it might try again.” He palmed a thumb drive from his pocket and slid it across the table. In the Hydra files, JARVIS had found that a senator named Stern had been behind the Afghanistan attack, apparently trying to get Tony out of the way so that his good buddy Justin Hammer and his company Hammer Industries could take over SI's lucrative military contracts. There was all of that and more on here, just enough information that if Rhodey put all the threads together he would start getting the bigger picture. Pierce, the STRIKE teams, all of it. “If anything happens to me, I need you to finish what I’ve started.”

“Tony, if you are afraid for your life-“ Rhodey started, still looking dubious but starting to get alarmed.

“Not just me. You. Ms. Potts. Anyone I'm friends with. I can’t do anything to make these people suspicious,” Tony insisted. It was strange to feel like he was lying even though every word he’d said was true. “No unexplained bodyguards, no sudden trips, and absolutely no cops.”

“I don’t like this,” Rhodey said emphatically. “You’re asking me to sit back and wait to see if someone kills you!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tony said. That part was a lie. He had a plan in the broadest definition of the word; mostly he was making it up as he went along and praying he could handle the fallout. “I need you to trust me.” Rhodey’s mouth was a grim line and his jaw was tight, and Tony knew he wasn’t convinced so he pulled out his trump card. “I can’t do this unless I know you are safe,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward. “I won’t risk you.” It took a long minute, and Rhodey looked like he was swallowing something unpleasant, but he finally nodded and put the thumb drive in his pocket. Tony exhaled and sagged with relief. “Thank you."

“When this is over, you better have a good damn explanation,” Rhodey said threateningly, and Tony barked out a humorless laugh.

“You won’t even believe me when you hear it.”

  8 Days Ago

After Tony hit save on the final design of the suit, he stumbled over to the couch and landed on it face first, exhausted. He was laying on the couch, eyes drifting shut as he went over his plan for the hundredth time trying to figure out if he’d missed anything when the lab went dark. “What the hell, JARVIS?”

“Sir, it’s been 56 hours since you last slept,” JARVIS said. “I’m turning off your systems for a minimum of twelve hours.” The light in the stairwell going up to the main floor turned on, its glow just enough to let Tony get from the couch to the door without running into anything.

Tony stayed stubbornly on the couch. “We don’t have twelve hours to waste,” he said. “Turn my power back on.”

The lights stayed off. “Sir, you are a hazard to yourself and others.” Tony scowled and wondered if he had actually programmed JARVIS like this or if he was channeling the man himself. "Also, there's nothing for you to do while I assemble the suit."

“Fine. Ten hours.”

“Ten hours," JARVIS repeated. "I will be monitoring the situation while you sleep,” he added, and Tony knew that he meant not just monitoring Stane and James, but also Tony’s vital signs to make sure he actually slept.

“You’re insufferable,” Tony accused as he made his way up the stairs.

“Yes, sir.”

 2 Days Ago

“Sir, there’s something you should see.”

Tony looked up from the fine-tuning he was doing on the suit’s shoulder-fired weapons to look at the computer screen. JARVIS had maximized the window where he was constantly monitoring Pierce’s communications and highlighted a text that had just been sent. It was to an unknown number and all it said was lvl 10, CovJer10131973 nlt 200810162200Z. The first part was clearly a target identifier and Tony knew enough about the military to recognize the latter as a date time group, set for five days from now. “Bring up the camera feed,” Tony said, and sure enough when Tony looked at the video surveillance of the room where James was kept, he could see that the lights in the room were on and a technician was already in the room powering on computers. They’d found out a while ago that what Tony had taken for a hyperbaric chamber was in fact a cryostasis chamber, which partly explained why James was almost a hundred years old but looked younger than Tony.

“Shit." Tony exhaled long and low, feeling his heart rate spike with nervousness. "How long it takes to thaw him out? Was that in his files?”

JARVIS was silent for a moment. “Evidence suggests approximately 24 hours from the time the procedure is first initiated,” he said.

“Right,” Tony said grimly, turning back to his work with a new urgency. “Guess it’s time.”

 Now

Tony flew north along the coast as his house collapsed into the Pacific Ocean behind him, throwing billowing clouds of dust and smoke into the air as carefully placed explosives reduced it to a smoking ruin. It was thrilling and terrifying to know that for all intents and purposes Tony Stark was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He'd become a dead man after all, and now the only thing left was this suit and his mission: rescue the Winter Soldier then burn Hydra to the ground.

“Pull up James' video feed for me," Tony said as he flew. Since he was over water, he set the suit to autopilot and shifted his attention to the small window at the corner of his HUD.  James was out of the cryostasis chamber, sitting on a chair as a medical assistant appeared to be taking his vitals. Every now and then he shivered, still shirtless. Other technicians were milling around, tending to the computers, and standing guard were was two members of the STRIKE team, hands on their weapons as they kept an eye on him. His records had indicated that he was prone to ‘erratic violent outbursts,’ which Tony figured was code for “periodically tries to fight back.” Tony had actually been happy to read that, because it meant that Hydra hadn't managed to break him completely. Right now, though, James just seemed willing to numbly submit to whatever the technicians were doing, his long hair a curtain in front of his face as he stared at the floor.

“Sir, we are approaching the facility,” JARVIS said, and minimized the video. Tony flew lower to the water, navigating around the giant cargo ships at dock. Even for a twenty-four hour facility it was late, and there were only one or two ships that had people still unloading shipping containers. He landed close to the Hydra facility but out of the line of sight; he had managed to camouflage the suit to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t hide the bright lights of the repulsors so he made the rest of the approach on foot.

JARVIS’s scanners found four total guards around the building, patrolling in pairs. By sticking to the deep shadows cast by the stacked shipping containers and the orange-yellow glow of the sodium-vapor security lights, Tony got within hearing distance and hit them with a pulse of high-pitched wave frequency. They both stiffened and fell over, paralyzed, helmets bouncing off the pavement hard enough to knock them unconscious. Tony bound them with their own zip ties and hid them out of sight, then used his backdoor access to the security system to unlock the doors and set all the surveillance cameras on a one hour loop. As he strode through the door into the lab, all eyes turned to face him, and before anyone could even speak there was a brrrt noise and they fell to the floor, killed by the precision targeting system Tony had built into his suit.

When JARVIS confirmed they were all dead, Tony took off the helmet and looked down at one of the bodies; the one closest to him had been here a month ago, monitoring James’ vitals as they wiped his mind. This was the first time Tony had killed anyone and he expected to feel..something, sad or upset or even vindictive, but he didn’t really feel anything. It all felt too easy, and Tony knew it was because he had designed a suit that had made it that easy. All the more reason that Hydra couldn't be allowed to get their hands on it.

James was still sitting in the chair, watching Tony as he approached; he hadn’t even gone for cover as everyone around him had died. Tony wondered if it was out of surprise or indifference. “Do you know me?” He asked, coming to stand in front of him. James studied his features for a moment and shook his head. “My name is Tony Stark. You are James Buchanan Barnes, and I am here to rescue you.” Tony offered him a hand to get to his feet, but James didn’t move, he just stared at Tony with those glacier blue eyes. There wasn't blankness in them now, only a narrow-eyed look of consideration. “Come on,” Tony tried again. “We’re escaping. We have to hurry before more people show up.”

James didn’t move. “There is no escape from Hydra. The only way out is-”

“Death, I know.” Tony kept his hand out but gestured expressively around the room with the other. “But they never said whose death.”

James studied him again, then turned his gaze to the dead bodies. Finally, after a long moment, he took Tony’s hand and let him pull him to his feet.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Hacker

Summary: 

"Education has reached a new frontier. Given the pandemic and the need to continue educating the youth, many companies have started developing ways to eliminate distractions in the online classroom. Eduguardian is an MDM solution designed to support our educators and guardians in their mission to create the optimal learning environment for children."

Brookland starts using Mobile Device Management solutions for the student's devices and Alex naively tries to find a way to bypass it. 

Written for the SpyFest fic exchange, Dec 2020

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Prompt:

"Alex is noticed as having a lot of potential (be it while he's on a mission or just going home from school but is paying a lot of attention to his surroundings and gets noticed by some criminals - not the ones he's investigating- or by some other intelligence agency; either way, they don't recognise him as a spy) and someone tries to recruit him. MI6 isn't exactly happy with the whole ordeal, especially when Alex gives the offer some serious consideration (or he doesn't, it's up to you. MI6 is still pissed)."

Notes:  I am so sorry I took way too many liberties with this hahahah. I hope it's still recognizable? An attempt at crack. (Do people actually follow me for Alex Rider content?)

When Brooklands got into the trend of holding both online and in-classroom classes, Alex was out on a mission. 

In fact, he didn’t even notice that most of his classmates were joining him when he was doing modules his teacher so kindly sent him. Probably because his downtime to actually look at those modules consisted of those times in a helicopter minutes before he was to skydive and land onto the roof of another military headquarters.

The change was gradual but it was there. Alex though, having had too many things running through his head never did notice it. That is until he opened one of his devices during class to see the browser Safari was blocked on his iPad.

Your school has not provisioned this as a Class App. Please contact your school administrator if you believe this is a mistake.

“What the hell is this?” Alex whispered, mostly to himself.

“Oh yeah, it’s blocked. You have to use the Eduguardian browser now,” Tom answered from next to him. He reached out over Alex’s shoulder and clicked on something on the lower screen of Alex’s ipad, a green app with a badge on it

“What? Why?”

“Yeah, something about ‘educational technology being the new frontier’ and ‘having to protect children in an online setting’…”

With Tom’s mannerisms, Alex could almost imagine the speech drilled into his classmates heads while he was away. He didn’t have to imagine for too long though. An ad of Eduguardian was one of the few things they were at least allowed to access during class. For some reason, Alex found himself more interested in the ad than in the actual class.

Education has reached a new frontier. Given the pandemic and the need to continue educating the youth, many companies have started developing ways to eliminate distractions in the online classroom.

Eduguardian is an MDM solution to support our educators and guardians form a better environment for your children.

MDM?

“Eyes up.” And just like that, before Alex could even figure out the implications of an MDM, his screen froze then locked and he was left with nothing better to do than listen to his teacher.

The teacher flashed the questions on the board. “Pop quiz everyone!”

A link was sent to his iPad. It opened up to a google form with one essay question History was generally one of the easiest subjects to google.

How were peasants in western Europe similar to serfs in Russia? How were they different?

It was an essay so at least they were given time and space to research. Or so that was what Alex thought. Having been a student for many years, and for a long one year, having been a student who was constantly behind. Alex had built very efficient methods for research.

As Alex opened up wikipedia, he soon found out what cruel reality.

“They blocked Wikipedia?”

“Apparently, starting with wikipedia is lazy research.” Tom answered softly back, looking not at all convinced with the school’s strategy.

For the first time since his first mission, Alex was not happy to be back at school.

                                        Hacker

“It doesn’t end there… When you get home, your parents have control of the gadget. They can set curfews, set up restrictions. This invention is fucking crazy,” Tom ranted as they made their way home that afternoon.

For Tom it was. Alex was sure though Jack wouldn’t be too strict about it. She never was. She was more like a sister than a parent to him after all.

All hopes of a normal day though were dashed when he came home to find Jack as confused as he was. “Brooklands never told me about anything like that.”

“You’re kidding...” That was a declarative statement. Alex did not want to even want to plant the possibility that maybe, just maybe she knew nothing about it. “Every student has to have an assigned guardian... “ Alex watched as Jack’s eyes widened in what could have been realization. As she did, Alex was starting to understand what she meant, having stumbled upon the same conclusion.

                                          Hacker

“Alex, you have to understand, MDM is the new frontier. With the internet, we can’t just have kids running around watching porn or war movies without supervision.”

“This is a bunch of horseshit. You’re infringing on my right to privacy.”

“You’re acting like we have never done this before Alex. Besides, it’s not like we’re watching what you’re doing 24/7. Just enough to keep you safe… and your content age appropriate.”

Mrs. Jones’s justification had Alex rolling his eyes. He had checked his web filtering settings that afternoon to see that all violent Youtube channels and subreddits had been blocked. Keywords like blood, guns and suicide have also been filtered out. But you’re so ready to drop me at the line of fire when convenient. He would have wanted to say. By then though, Mrs. Jones was looking back at her paperwork and Alex knew any argument would have been futile.

Any argument towards Jones at least. Alex still had allies among MI6.

“Smithers, how much do you know about this MDM thing?” Alex asked as soon as he closed the door behind him. He was aware that the walls were soundproof and he made little effort to regulate his voice, having wasted too much of his patience talking to Mrs. Jones. He had twenty other things to say more insulting to ‘horseshit’ after all.

“Well, it’s all the rage now but it’s nothing new. MI6 has been using mobile device management systems since before to watch their employees.”

“Why does MI6 have to be the one assigned to ‘parent’ my school account?”

Smithers shrugged. “They are your legal guardians.” The man had a face about him, as if he didn’t want to be involved. Alex knew Smithers had a soft spot for him and he just had to use it to his advantage.

For a few more moments they were silent. Alex though continued to stare at Smithers, widening his eyes a bit and twisting his mouth into a little pout, or maybe a face of disappointment. All he intended to show though was a little bit of hopelessness and awareness of the unfairness of his situation.

It may have worked. It may have not worked. It was enough for Smithers to let out a big sigh, bring out a USB and connect it into his computer. Within minutes, he placed it on the table, gesturing for Alex to take it. “Don’t you dare tell Mrs. Jones about this.”

                                         Hacker

It was a quick install virtual desktop interface.

It was a straightforward solution to the MDM that ravaged his iPad and within minutes of installation and booting it up, Alex finally had access to whatever else prepubescent boys usually preferred to search up privately.

Through the VDI at least. Alex noted. That virtual desktop had become Alex’s one stop shop for blocked content for both days at school and nights at home.

When in school, Alex already had a disadvantage when taking pop quizzes and for once he actually felt that MI6, or at least Smithers, was doing their part to undo the damage of missed classes. He had finished one of his quizzes for literature thirty minutes before the class ended because of the quick access he had had to sparknotes using the VDI Smither’s had given him.

“Alex, what the hell---” Tom whispered. Or it was a little too loud to be a whisper for a very paranoid and guilty Alex. He quickly pushed at Tom’s chair so the boy beside him would lose his balance and distract him. That gave Alex enough time to close his VDI and pretend to struggle as he reviewed his already completed worksheet.

Tom didn’t buy it. “Alex, you know something we don’t.” He had whispered to him soon after students started to file out of the classroom.

Tom was his best friend in Brookland. Within a few minutes of listening to Tom’s outrageous theories and rants, Alex finally caved in and requested for Tom’s USB. Within a day, he had copied that file to Tom’s USB and the latter had it installed on his laptop, just in time for their next exam.

Tom looking a little too relaxed for the next exam was what set off alarms for the whole class. Tom had a secret he didn’t want to share and somehow the class knew. No one just became above average overnight. Especially someone like Tom.

Alex was approached a few days after he had given Tom a copy of the file. It was when he had passed by the toilet which was reserved for things other than conventional uses of the toilet, did he run into someone who reeked of whatever they smoked inside.

“I have a business proposition for you,” he said, a whiff of smoke following suit.

                                              Hacker

A week passed and suddenly everyone was finishing their exams thirty minutes earlier. The teachers had attributed it to the effects of a good MDM. Alex’s wallet was a little heavier so he wasn’t complaining.

That was until he found a black sedan in front of his home with a man in a suit and a quick message from Mrs. Jones.

The ride to Mrs. Jones office was been silent, save for a terse “go in!” as soon as he arrived in front of her office. He heard venom in that voice and was sure she was at least trying to be polite but was probably seething.

Mrs. Jones did not waste any time. “MDMs are an important part of national security Alex.”

“Yes. I’m aware of that.”

“Then what am I hearing about a mass production of VDIs packaged externally.”

Alex shouldn’t have been surprised that she found out about it. He found cold chill brush through him as she pointed it out. “Where did you hear that?”

“We had to investigate the suddenly very impressive results of the students in quizzes over a three week period. And they traced it to one school, Brookland.” Mrs. Jones glared at him accusingly. “You can’t just hack into MDMs!”

Alex brought his hands up defensively. “Why do you suddenly think it’s me?”

“Alex, no boy your age just suddenly stops watching porn for a month."

A week later, all devices were wiped and all USBs ceased. The damage had been done.

At least Alex got to keep the money.

[fimawari]

Thoughts on the comic and Skully's Identity. [Slight Spoiler Warning? Not really any plot spoilers just details and characters.]

So a lot of people accept that Jay is probably Skully, either surviving or something else. However there's also speculation that it could be Alex, Jessica, or even Seth Wilson, a few thinking about Tim. (Though I would rule him out as the artist drew what he looked like in the Comic on another post) So I raked out every detail I can. Of course it can all just be a stylistic choice but whatever - make of it what you will.

It could just be some new random asshole, but It's a given they know Jessica, so it is very likely to be Jay. He presumed she was gone, unless he watched the last Entry. That would also explain "It's you" sort of "oh shit" moment. Jay was also set on looking for Jessica, so if he did survive, you could assume that would still be one of his motives. Tim wouldn't likely have that "it's you" moment because he knows Jessica is alive. Alex might have that reaction though. I believe he presumed that she was gone.

It also takes two things from Brian and Tim. The hoodie and the plastic mask. So this person has likely seen both of them and came to imitate their appearance.

Coat Buttons

The Jacket appears to have snap on metal buttons. It's typical for this style of jacket (similar to a utility jacket, which would be useful and warm to run all over the goddamn woods at night) to have the buttons placed on top of the left side for a men's jacket. (Of course it could just be any person in a men's styled jacket, but still.)

I picked this out because it's paid attention to very carefully as a detail. Of course that's good for continuity, but I know for filming Marble Hornets they were very careful with detail and hinting at things.

2. Height

They're only seen crouching up to a door with Jessica on the other side, but if they both stood straight, they'd come to be about the same height, which was true for Jay and Jessica in the series.

3. You are broken but you CAN be fixed

This is what the masked figure says to Jessica. Similar to ToTheArks video saying Alex was broken, but couldn't be fixed. That might line up with Jay's motives because he continued to think he could solve the situation. It could be argued he also believed Alex could be saved from the Operator. It it were Alex, it could be his own changed perspective in whatever "form" this is now. That would be quite interesting to see why he would go from wanting to destroy the tapes to actively giving someone the tapes.

4. Not a point but something I noticed.

On the Rosswood bulletin, there is a blurry poster that looks like it could be a "Missing" sign. Who for - I don't know, but it does kind of appear they have glasses, so it could be Alex? This could also just be meaningless background illustration.

In the same frame, Adam also talks about people getting lost in the woods and says, "The Majority of them were recovered safely but," and he stops. That's a pretty cliffhanger "but" there Adam.

Closer inspection of the Rosswood Map shows Rosswood Rd, mentioned in the series, and was supposed to be the road off the usual parking lot they stopped in when meeting up, and an X location to hard to read atm, but it is off the beaten path.

5. In a silly doodle drawing in the comic files, I did notice this poster with a skull on it. It may just be nothing but could also be implying that whoever is in the skull mask died and came back.

Also I appreciate that the soda is Conk.

6. It's Fall about 10 years later after the first incidents in Rosswood began, in the timeline 2019 ish, but that is apparent from the trees outside and the time the comic was created at.

7. Jessica has a "Sarah" in her phone. Could he literally the millions of Sarah's but I'll point it out anyway. But more interesting barely covered is Tim's contact.

8. I was thinking about why their seems to be Blue Lenses in Skully's mask, they're even visible from a distance. Now this is really digging at the bottom of barrel but when Jessica grabs the pipe to defend herself, it's highlighted by red for emphasis. Red and Blue have often been a scheme for duelity and such.

This repeats again in the second title page:

A lot could be discerned from it. Maybe she is Skully, like a second half of her, as one of her nightmares is fighting against herself. May also not mean that and be another symbol of duelity, red vs blue.

I don't think the blue is styling choice because you can quite clearly see eyes in Masky's drawing. I believe there is definitely something covering their eyes - like lenses. Their "fashion choices" are also leaning towards the expensive side I noticed. Unless they just stole it went to a goodwill and got lucky. A utility jacket like that would cost somewhere beyond a $100 unless you're lucky. I'd pay to see a cryptid running around in Gucci in butt-fuck-nowhere Alabama in the middle of the night. Or who knows maybe Alex got some prescription lenses put in that shit.

9. Do I even have to explain the symbolism of a Jay.

10. I can say with good certainty this probably symbolises Jessica's memory of Alex.

11. Some damning evidence, whoever is in the mask has access to the original entry files, not just downloaded YouTube stuff. Jay, Tim, Totheark would likely have access to that. Alex was pretty dead-set on having all the traces deleted, I'd doubt he'd have them all uploaded to a computer.

12. No idea what this might represent besides some metaphor for life being a merry go round, but in the postcard Skully is chilling on a horse lmao. "Stuck in a loop of unhappiness." Ring a bell?

13. Can't attach another photo but the abandoned house Jessica goes to has "Bones" written on it, much like the Hospital did. In the original series they said that graffiti was just there, so maybe they decided to work with it? Who knows maybe it's some kind of new group? Maybe ToTheArk vs "Bones?" You CAN'T be fixed vs You CAN be fixed.

14. I also can't speculate what it exactly means, but it's obvious Skully can talk, not seen previously with the others. Whether out of an inability or just not wanting to. Could be argued it's a person behind the mask by choice, not volition. We also don't really know if Brian chose his path or became that. But he became a masked cryptid after supposedly "dying". We also never see people "die" just assume they have died or are dead and they disappear. Tim implies that it's just feeding off them, physically or mentally. They always die off camera or get fucked off somewhere by the egg head. They appear dead afterwords, with Jay and Brian, but still missing. All of their bodies were taken by the monster and are god knows where in some seperate dimension. This is borderline r/im14andthisisdeep but what is "death" in this series. Does it mean gone permanently or just "gone" ... For an unknown amount of time. People die, but do they stay that way? Or do they die ... In one sense, but not the other, Losing something of themselves from before, and becoming something new. That would awfully explain Brian's behavior after Alex "killed" him. It's also implied there are others apart of ToTheArk that were never shown in the series, suspected to be other members of the original cast who maybe had "died" and come back as someone else. Something broken.

Tim seems to be an outlier. It's presumed he has avoided death, and essentially kept his mentality. But still slips into another form out of his control, usually in response to the monster or the hooded man being near and stealing his pills and shit. Is he between death? Is that why doucheslender follows him? "The one that got away." Istg I don't take drugs.

That was Michael from Vsauce thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[shinesurge]

A quick announcement regarding the shop!

We made a business decision and bought a Glowforge in 2019, which was pretty spooky but has been INCREDIBLY helpful with the variety and sheer amount of Things I've been able to make for comic merchandise.

Unfortunately, Glowforge has done the predictable thing and now charges people for using the machines they already purchased. I bought mine before this idea was even suggested so I was SUPPOSED to be grandfathered into, like, retaining basic functionality for this item I paid 3,000 dollars for, but apparently they're not very organized over there since my entire design library cleaned itself out a couple weeks ago because of the new "designs that aren't opened in more than 30 days are deleted" rule.

All the items I designed for conventions and the online shop over the last two years are gone! I do save the actual art files myself of course, but Glowforge doesn't allow users to keep any of the data like cut settings or piece sizes outside their online program, so I'm basically going to have to start completely over doing all the testing and polishing I do to make Everything.

I know the audience for these messages is incredibly small (people who spend money on my comic or people who could afford to even consider buying a goddamn home laser cutter) BUT I felt like I should say something about this anyway.

First: Everything that involves the cutter that I don't already have some stock for has been taken out of the shop for now, but they'll be back! At Some Point. If you wanted one of the little Lucky Noons or the traveler tokens you'll still be able to get one as soon as I'm able to do the work involved in redoing fucking everything lmao

Second: Glowforge isn't unique here. I and many many other small business owners who handmake all our merch use Cricut machines to do damn near everything and they pulled the same shit recently. I know I'm an old man yelling at a cloud about how I don't trust any kind of service that doesn't let you hold the product in your hand, or in this case keep it on your own computer rather than logging into an online system, but this is exactly why. They WILL fuck you over if it makes them more money. There isn't a whole lot we can do in cases like this since the whole reason indie creators invest in these kinds of things is BECAUSE we can't afford to go through mass production options, this is the only way we can do it ourselves alongside all the other jobs we do. I don't make enough profit to afford to regularly stock fifty sticker designs with a minimum order quantity of 200, but I CAN drop a chunk of money on the means of production One Time and be able to make any stickers whenever I need them, you feel me

We're such a tiny outlier group that, understandably but frustratingly, nobody is really talking about these niche issues or advocating for us. When I looked around the Glowforge community the response to the completely disastrous premium model was mostly positive because the only people buying these machines are rich dads who can afford to drop thousands of dollars on a hobby; I went around in circles with tech support for two weeks and they still don't understand what my issue is with suddenly being unable to stock two years' worth of items.

But there aren't a lot of other channels to go through ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It's still pretty new to have fabrication options at home that are accessible to people who aren't already familiar with specialized equipment, there isn't any legitimate competition out there and that's why the two or three options we DO have are able to pull shit like this. Out of that already small user group, people like me who are using the equipment for producing our own things for business purposes are an even smaller subset. But I would just like to suggest, if anybody out there is working on fabricating their own Stuff for conventions or comics or whatever, please be very very aware that the companies making our equipment are not our friends, expect anything you NEED an app or something to use to disappear at a moment's notice, and make sure to keep as much data (art assets, dimensions, any tiny weird setting you can think of) in offline personal files you manage yourself. Whenever you can, make sure you can find the raw materials outside of the company itself so when it stops being profitable for them to make it available you can still make things.

in conclusion I Am Tired thanks for reading all this and for your support i will have the anime trinkets back up as soon as i can

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 52

I was sitting with Frenchie, Kimiko was going over the footage from the drones with Billy, helping him edit it with more precision and a better eye than most people would think to give her credit to have, and I was explaining the issue that I had after my chat with Grace about the chips.

“So what you’re saying,” he was squinting at me, but I could tell he wasn’t seeing ME.  “Is that Ryan has trios chips, but Mallory doesn’t believe that they were placed there to track him?”  I nodded, still not quite sure he was paying attention to my image.  “What would be l’ objet  then?”  His eyes narrowed, as though it would help him grasp the answer to the same problem I had issues finding the solution for.  “Chips, they are used to track, to listen, to -” his eyes widened, and then he refocused on me.  “Is there someone here, in the building,” he clarified, “that knows more about tech?”  

“Yes,” I’d looked up our in-house technology guru, wanting to know their name, just in case I had to tap their shoulder next.  “Carrie Stavos.”  I grabbed my desk phone and hit the extension I’d memorized that morning.  “Stavos?  Yes, this is Dr. Taylor, could you come to my office?  Of course, finish that up and come up after.”  I signed off with the young sounding woman and hung up.  “She has to finish up with -” It was my turn to squint.  “I’m sure you’d understand what she’d explained,” my lips quirked and Frenchie smirked in answer.  “She’ll be here when she finishes up, in about ten minutes.”  I checked my watch.  “That gives me a chance to go through some emails, and you can check on those two -” I nodded toward Billy’s desk where he and Kimiko were working in almost complete silence, but their heads were close and they were both taking turns clicking and moving the mouse.  

While Frenchie slid over to Billy’s side, I clicked through emails, finding one from an unknown source with a video file included.  Great, fabulous, just what my day needed, more shit.  First I put the email through the handy dandy backward trace, thinking that my new fan would need to learn quickly who they were dealing with and what type of fun resources I had at my fingertips.  The video I sent to the security systems, they could look to see where it originated, who saved it, and then hopefully who forwarded it to me.  

While those systems were running, I answered the more mundane of my correspondences.  The yeses and the nos, the requests, and the denials.  I had to imagine that I wouldn’t have the answers to my mystery email by the end of the day, normally anonymous emails took anywhere from forty-eight hours upward to backtrack, so I was shocked when I got the telltale ping that signaled they’d run it through the available programs and they had my answers.

Clicking open the report, I sat back as I read it.  The email had originated from our office, from one of the mailroom email accounts.  This account is utilized by anyone who can access the mailroom, which means literally anyone who can gain entrance into the building.  The mailroom computer isn’t secure. It holds nothing classified, so needs no password to log on. Great, that’s fun.

The video, I read on, was also from our building.  My office, it went on to be more precise, on the date of my hemmorage.  When I nearly went nuclear and wiped out EVERYTHING.  It was time stamped from the moment I swiped in that morning until an hour after I’d been rushed to the undisclosed clinic.  The security person who had backtracked the feed and written this piece of the report said that only our people should have access to the feed, and only the people with security clearance of those in the video storage and above should be able to clip, edit, and share it through our systems.  The clearance numbers used, however, match nothing they could find.

I sighed and sat back, somewhat surprised that Billy didn’t hightail it to my desk, but he was muttering with Frenchie about something in their footage.  Why this video, I wondered?  Why now?  

Putting the headset on that I kept on hand, just in case I needed it for something as tasteless as this, I took a deep breath to fortify myself and clicked play.

Have you ever watched yourself nearly die?  I don’t mean figuratively, but literally see a video of you come within inches of death?  There are films, entire movie series that have that trope.  Escaping death, only for it to continue to come for you, wanting nothing more than to make sure the balance is kept even.  

As I watched the video of the day I walked into our office, so full of certainty that I’d fixed it, I’d fixed the massive fucking disaster of a personal invasion that Homelander forced on me I felt bile start to rise in my throat because of the surreal quality of it.  Hearing my voice say the words that I barely recalled saying to Billy come out of my mouth.  Seeing me do things that I still take for granted, the mundane day to day shit, things that I knew within moments would become things I’d pray I could do again.  

Seeing Billy go for our lunch, the rolling in my stomach grew, a pain reminiscent of what I’d felt before.  I knew what was coming, but to see it from THIS angle?  It was as if I HAD died, and this would have been my view - what I would have seen while people rushed inside.  Wait--  How had they rushed in?

I clicked back, the rush of the blood down my legs my starting point.  I hadn’t made a sound, but Billy mentioned that my temperature had gotten so high that I’d set off an alarm, which alerted security.  Why didn’t I hear it on the video?  The alarm didn’t start until the first three people came in, faces I didn’t recognize, and none of whom should have been able to enter, since only Billy, Mallory, and I had access aside from Security override.  None of this trio had security markers on, and they didn’t look all that rushed.  I couldn’t hear their conversation, another redflag, since I heard every other sound, and after a gesture, the alarm FINALLY sounded and then things moved the way they should have.  

“Billy?”  Calm, that’s how I sounded, which would have shocked me, but by this point nothing was all that surprising.  “Could you take a look at something for me?”  

Getting Billy calmed down after HE watched the video wasn’t as simple.  Frenchie’s eyes were wide enough to see every divot on the moon, and I was contemplating cancelling everything for the rest of the day to distract him the best way I knew how.  

“Those three fuckin’ -” how his nostrils could either get so thin that NO air could possibly pass through or so wide that he could inhale ALL of the air in the free world was beyond me, but the true power was how he could do either and make me want to climb him like Mount Everest and - Damn it, Ronnie, get your head in the game.  “You coulda died, and they were doin’ fuck all.”  

“Actually, they were wasting time,” Frenchie offered, and I could tell he wished he hadn’t.  “I meant they were possibly looking for a way to -”

“See how long it would actually take for my self destruct button to engage,” I nodded, why bother fucking lying?  “Who are they?”  Important question, since clearly that mattered most.  “I couldn’t really see their faces, but they don’t look familiar.”  

“Knew where the cameras were,” Billy grunted, pulling me onto his lap as he sat in his own chair.  “Knew where they were and kept their heads down. Not amateurs.  Knew they’d have to raise the alarm too, cause sooner or later, your temperature would and no one could cover that mess up.”  

We were considering this newest blip in our nest of blips when the knock came to the door.  Kimiko raised her eyebrow at me in question, but I just sighed.  “That would be Stavos.  The techie guru we asked to consult.”  Pulling free of Billy, but not before giving in to a steadying kiss, just to remind one another that at least ONE part of our world was steadfast, I walked to the door to let in what I could only imagine would be MORE bad fucking news.

Carrie Stavos didn’t look like I thought she would.  I had a thought that she’d be spiky haired and edgy.  Instead she looked more librarian with a hint of a kindergarten teacher tossed in for fun.  Glasses perched on her nose, she took in her surroundings with the ease of someone who was used to blending in with the wallpaper.  Unfortunately for Carrie, I needed her to be the center of attention.

Once I had her situated in my chair, my laptop out of sight out of mind, I started with the soft balls.  First with the types of chips that might be implanted in people, then on to the reasons for the chips.  From there we went to more nefarious reasons for chipping people, superbeings for instance.

“Superbeings?” Her eyes widened.  “You want to chip supes?”

I shook my head emphatically.  “No, I most certainly do NOT want to chip supes.”  Couldn’t be further from the truth.  “I’m simply asking, if I found out that a particular supe was, in fact, chipped multiple times, what would the purpose aside from GPS be for those chips?”  

From wide to narrow slits, thinking hard, I could tell, Carrie was working out the question I’d posed her.  “I know that the Seven are chipped, for location, of course.”  A tilt of confirmation and understanding on my part kept her going.  “If you found that other supes were chipped, and if they had more than one?”  Another tilt, and she sighed, her head shaking.  “I can only think of one reason and it’s terrible.”  

“Terrible?”  It was Billy, leaning forward and eager, because while Ryan was his responsibility if something was terrible for a supe, he would like to hear about it.  

“Yes, terrible.”  Carrie looked a little green around the gills.  “I’ve heard of a type of chip, I thought they were like Urban Legends, but maybe not.”  A tiny sigh escaped ever as she blanched a bit.  “Inhibitors.”  

Now my eyes turned to slits as I tried to process this reality.  That a chip could be implanted to - no, they wouldn’t have, would they?  “Inhibitor?”  

“If there’s more than one?”  I nodded, barely seeing Carrie as I ran through the list of Ryan’s powers like a scroll.  “Each chip could be specific for ONE power, in place to stop that one, hold it at bay.  Inhibit the supe from accessing it.”  Not training him to use his powers responsibly or control them, but to literally neuter him. I felt like throwing up.  “Terrible.” She whispered and I had to concur.