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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in Skinner boxes

Enshittification is the process by which digital platforms devour themselves: first they dangle goodies in front of end users. Once users are locked in, the goodies are taken away and dangled before business customers who supply goods to the users. Once those business customers are stuck on the platform, the goodies are clawed away and showered on the platform’s shareholders:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Enshittification isn’t just another way of saying “fraud” or “price gouging” or “wage theft.” Enshittification is intrinsically digital, because moving all those goodies around requires the flexibility that only comes with a digital businesses. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can’t rapidly change the price of eggs at Whole Foods without an army of kids with pricing guns on roller-skates. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can change the price of eggs on Amazon Fresh just by twiddling a knob on the service’s back-end.

Twiddling is the key to enshittification: rapidly adjusting prices, conditions and offers. As with any shell game, the quickness of the hand deceives the eye. Tech monopolists aren’t smarter than the Gilded Age sociopaths who monopolized rail or coal — they use the same tricks as those monsters of history, but they do them faster and with computers:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

If Rockefeller wanted to crush a freight company, he couldn’t just click a mouse and lay down a pipeline that ran on the same route, and then click another mouse to make it go away when he was done. When Bezos wants to bankrupt Diapers.com — a company that refused to sell itself to Amazon — he just moved a slider so that diapers on Amazon were being sold below cost. Amazon lost $100m over three months, diapers.com went bankrupt, and every investor learned that competing with Amazon was a losing bet:

https://slate.com/technology/2013/10/amazon-book-how-jeff-bezos-went-thermonuclear-on-diapers-com.html

That’s the power of twiddling — but twiddling cuts both ways. The same flexibility that digital businesses enjoy is hypothetically available to workers and users. The airlines pioneered twiddling ticket prices, and that naturally gave rise to countertwiddling, in the form of comparison shopping sites that scraped the airlines’ sites to predict when tickets would be cheapest:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/27/knob-jockeys/#bros-be-twiddlin

The airlines — like all abusive businesses — refused to tolerate this. They were allowed to touch their knobs as much as they wanted — indeed, they couldn’t stop touching those knobs — but when we tried to twiddle back, that was “felony contempt of business model,” and the airlines sued:

https://www.cnbc.com/2014/12/30/airline-sues-man-for-founding-a-cheap-flights-website.html

And sued:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/06/business/southwest-airlines-lawsuit-prices.html

Platforms don’t just hate it when end-users twiddle back — if anything they are even more aggressive when their business-users dare to twiddle. Take Para, an app that Doordash drivers used to get a peek at the wages offered for jobs before they accepted them — something that Doordash hid from its workers. Doordash ruthlessly attacked Para, saying that by letting drivers know how much they’d earn before they did the work, Para was violating the law:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/tech-rights-are-workers-rights-doordash-edition

Which law? Well, take your pick. The modern meaning of “IP” is “any law that lets me use the law to control my competitors, competition or customers.” Platforms use a mix of anticircumvention law, patent, copyright, contract, cybersecurity and other legal systems to weave together a thicket of rules that allow them to shut down rivals for their Felony Contempt of Business Model:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Enshittification relies on unlimited twiddling (by platforms), and a general prohibition on countertwiddling (by platform users). Enshittification is a form of fishing, in which bait is dangled before different groups of users and then nimbly withdrawn when they lunge for it. Twiddling puts the suppleness into the enshittifier’s fishing-rod, and a ban on countertwiddling weighs down platform users so they’re always a bit too slow to catch the bait.

Nowhere do we see twiddling’s impact more than in the “gig economy,” where workers are misclassified as independent contractors and put to work for an app that scripts their every move to the finest degree. When an app is your boss, you work for an employer who docks your pay for violating rules that you aren’t allowed to know — and where your attempts to learn those rules are constantly frustrated by the endless back-end twiddling that changes the rules faster than you can learn them.

As with every question of technology, the issue isn’t twiddling per se — it’s who does the twiddling and who gets twiddled. A worker armed with digital tools can play gig work employers off each other and force them to bid up the price of their labor; they can form co-ops with other workers that auto-refuse jobs that don’t pay enough, and use digital tools to organize to shift power from bosses to workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Take “reverse centaurs.” In AI research, a “centaur” is a human assisted by a machine that does more than either could do on their own. For example, a chess master and a chess program can play a better game together than either could play separately. A reverse centaur is a machine assisted by a human, where the machine is in charge and the human is a meat-puppet.

Think of Amazon warehouse workers wearing haptic location-aware wristbands that buzz at them continuously dictating where their hands must be; or Amazon drivers whose eye-movements are continuously tracked in order to penalize drivers who look in the “wrong” direction:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

The difference between a centaur and a reverse centaur is the difference between a machine that makes your life better and a machine that makes your life worse so that your boss gets richer. Reverse centaurism is the 21st Century’s answer to Taylorism, the pseudoscience that saw white-coated “experts” subject workers to humiliating choreography down to the smallest movement of your fingertip:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

While reverse centaurism was born in warehouses and other company-owned facilities, gig work let it make the leap into workers’ homes and cars. The 21st century has seen a return to the cottage industry — a form of production that once saw workers labor far from their bosses and thus beyond their control — but shriven of the autonomy and dignity that working from home once afforded:

https://doctorow.medium.com/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk-463e2730ef0d

The rise and rise of bossware — which allows for remote surveillance of workers in their homes and cars — has turned “work from home” into “live at work.” Reverse centaurs can now be chickenized — a term from labor economics that describes how poultry farmers, who sell their birds to one of three vast poultry processors who have divided up the country like the Pope dividing up the “New World,” are uniquely exploited:

https://onezero.medium.com/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs-b2e8d5cda826

A chickenized reverse centaur has it rough: they must pay for the machines they use to make money for their bosses, they must obey the orders of the app that controls their work, and they are denied any of the protections that a traditional worker might enjoy, even as they are prohibited from deploying digital self-help measures that let them twiddle back to bargain for a better wage.

All of this sets the stage for a phenomenon called algorithmic wage discrimination, in which two workers doing the same job under the same conditions will see radically different payouts for that work. These payouts are continuously tweaked in the background by an algorithm that tries to predict the minimum sum a worker will accept to remain available without payment, to ensure sufficient workers to pick up jobs as they arise.

This phenomenon — and proposed policy and labor solutions to it — is expertly analyzed in “On Algorithmic Wage Discrimination,” a superb paper by UC Law San Franciscos Veena Dubal:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4331080

Dubal uses empirical data and enthnographic accounts from Uber drivers and other gig workers to explain how endless, self-directed twiddling allows gig companies pay workers less and pay themselves more. As @[email protected] explains in his LA Times article on Dubal’s research, the goal of the payment algorithm is to guess how often a given driver needs to receive fair compensation in order to keep them driving when the payments are unfair:

https://www.latimes.com/business/technology/story/2023-04-11/algorithmic-wage-discrimination

The algorithm combines nonconsensual dossiers compiled on individual drivers with population-scale data to seek an equilibrium between keeping drivers waiting, unpaid, for a job; and how much a driver needs to be paid for an individual job, in order to keep that driver from clocking out and doing something else. @ Here’s how that works. Sergio Avedian, a writer for The Rideshare Guy, ran an experiment with two brothers who both drove for Uber; one drove a Tesla and drove intermittently, the other brother rented a hybrid sedan and drove frequently. Sitting side-by-side with the brothers, Avedian showed how the brother with the Tesla was offered more for every trip:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UADTiL3S67I

Uber wants to lure intermittent drivers into becoming frequent drivers. Uber doesn’t pay for an oversupply of drivers, because it only pays drivers when they have a passenger in the car. Having drivers on call — but idle — is a way for Uber to shift the cost of maintaining a capacity cushion to its workers.

What’s more, what Uber charges customers is not based on how much it pays its workers. As Uber’s head of product explained: Uber uses “machine-learning techniques to estimate how much groups of customers are willing to shell out for a ride. Uber calculates riders’ propensity for paying a higher price for a particular route at a certain time of day. For instance, someone traveling from a wealthy neighborhood to another tony spot might be asked to pay more than another person heading to a poorer part of town, even if demand, traffic and distance are the same.”

https://qz.com/990131/uber-is-practicing-price-discrimination-economists-say-that-might-not-be-a-bad-thing/

Uber has historically described its business a pure supply-and-demand matching system, where a rush of demand for rides triggers surge pricing, which lures out drivers, which takes care of the demand. That’s not how it works today, and it’s unclear if it ever worked that way. Today, a driver who consults the rider version of the Uber app before accepting a job — to compare how much the rider is paying to how much they stand to earn — is booted off the app and denied further journeys.

Surging, instead, has become just another way to twiddle drivers. One of Dubal’s subjects, Derrick, describes how Uber uses fake surges to lure drivers to airports: “You go to the airport, once the lot get kind of full, then the surge go away.” Other drivers describe how they use groupchats to call out fake surges: “I’m in the Marina. It’s dead. Fake surge.”

That’s pure twiddling. Twiddling turns gamification into gamblification, where your labor buys you a spin on a roulette wheel in a rigged casino. As a driver called Melissa, who had doubled down on her availability to earn a $100 bonus awarded for clocking a certain number of rides, told Dubal, “When you get close to the bonus, the rides start trickling in more slowly…. And it makes sense. It’s really the type of shit that they can do when it’s okay to have a surplus labor force that is just sitting there that they don’t have to pay for.”

Wherever you find reverse-centaurs, you get this kind of gamblification, where the rules are twiddled continuously to make sure that the house always wins. As a contract driver Amazon reverse centaur told Lauren Gurley for Motherboard, “Amazon uses these cameras allegedly to make sure they have a safer driving workforce, but they’re actually using them not to pay delivery companies”:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/88npjv/amazons-ai-cameras-are-punishing-drivers-for-mistakes-they-didnt-make

Algorithmic wage discrimination is the robot overlord of our nightmares: its job is to relentlessly quest for vulnerabilities and exploit them. Drivers divide themselves into “ants” (drivers who take every job) and “pickers” (drivers who cherry-pick high-paying jobs). The algorithm’s job is ensuring that pickers get the plum assignments, not the ants, in the hopes of converting those pickers to app-dependent ants.

In my work on enshittification, I call this the “giant teddy bear” gambit. At every county fair, you’ll always spot some poor jerk carrying around a giant teddy-bear they “won” on the midway. But they didn’t win it — not by getting three balls in the peach-basket. Rather, the carny running the rigged game either chose not to operate the “scissor” that kicks balls out of the basket. Or, if the game is “honest” (that is, merely impossible to win, rather than gimmicked), the operator will make a too-good-to-refuse offer: “Get one ball in and I’ll give you this keychain. Win two keychains and I’ll let you trade them for this giant teddy bear.”

Carnies aren’t in the business of giving away giant teddy bears — rather, the gambit is an investment. Giving a mark a giant teddy bear to carry around the midway all day acts as a convincer, luring other marks to try to land three balls in the basket and win their own teddy bear.

In the same way, platforms like Uber distribute giant teddy bears to pickers, as a way of keeping the ants scurrying from job to job, and as a way of convincing the pickers to give up whatever work allows them to discriminate among Uber’s offers and hold out for the plum deals, whereupon then can be transmogrified into ants themselves.

Dubal describes the experience of Adil, a Syrian refugee who drives for Uber in the Bay Area. His colleagues are pickers, and showed him screenshots of how much they earned. Determined to get a share of that money, Adil became a model ant, driving two hours to San Francisco, driving three days straight, napping in his car, spending only one day per week with his family. The algorithm noticed that Adil needed the work, so it paid him less.

Adil responded the way the system predicted he would, by driving even more: “My friends they make it, so I keep going, maybe I can figure it out. It’s unsecure, and I don’t know how people they do it. I don’t know how I am doing it, but I have to. I mean, I don’t find another option. In a minute, if I find something else, oh man, I will be out immediately. I am a very patient person, that’s why I can continue.”

Another driver, Diego, told Dubal about how the winners of the giant teddy bears fell into the trap of thinking that they were “good at the app”: “Any time there’s some big shot getting high pay outs, they always shame everyone else and say you don’t know how to use the app. I think there’s secret PR campaigns going on that gives targeted payouts to select workers, and they just think it’s all them.”

That’s the power of twiddling: by hoarding all the flexibility offered by digital tools, the management at platforms can become centaurs, able to string along thousands of workers, while the workers are reverse-centaurs, puppeteered by the apps.

As the example of Adil shows, the algorithm doesn’t need to be very sophisticated in order to figure out which workers it can underpay. The system automates the kind of racial and gender discrimination that is formally illegal, but which is masked by the smokescreen of digitization. An employer who systematically paid women less than men, or Black people less than white people, would be liable to criminal and civil sanctions. But if an algorithm simply notices that people who have fewer job prospects drive more and will thus accept lower wages, that’s just “optimization,” not racism or sexism.

This is the key to understanding the AI hype bubble: when ghouls from multinational banks predict 13 trillion dollar markets for “AI,” what they mean is that digital tools will speed up the twiddling and other wage-suppression techniques to transfer $13T in value from workers and consumers to shareholders.

The American business lobby is relentlessly focused on the goal of reducing wages. That’s the force behind “free trade,” “right to work,” and other codewords for “paying workers less,” including “gig work.” Tech workers long saw themselves as above this fray, immune to labor exploitation because they worked for a noble profession that took care of its own.

But the epidemic of mass tech-worker layoffs, following on the heels of massive stock buybacks, has demonstrated that tech bosses are just like any other boss: willing to pay as little as they can get away with, and no more. Tech bosses are so comfortable with their market dominance and the lock-in of their customers that they are happy to turn out hundreds of thousands of skilled workers, convinced that the twiddling systems they’ve built are the kinds of self-licking ice-cream cones that are so simple even a manager can use them — no morlocks required.

The tech worker layoffs are best understood as an all-out war on tech worker morale, because that morale is the source of tech workers’ confidence and thus their demands for a larger share of the value generated by their labor. The current tech layoff template is very different from previous tech layoffs: today’s layoffs are taking place over a period of months, long after they are announced, and laid off tech worker is likely to be offered a months of paid post-layoff work, rather than severance. This means that tech workplaces are now haunted by the walking dead, workers who have been laid off but need to come into the office for months, even as the threat of layoffs looms over the heads of the workers who remain. As an old friend, recently laid off from Microsoft after decades of service, wrote to me, this is “a new arrow in the quiver of bringing tech workers to heel and ensuring that we’re properly thankful for the jobs we have (had?).”

Dubal is interested in more than analysis, she’s interested in action. She looks at the tactics already deployed by gig workers, who have not taken all this abuse lying down. Workers in the UK and EU organized through Worker Info Exchange and the App Drivers and Couriers Union have used the GDPR (the EU’s privacy law) to demand “algorithmic transparency,” as well as access to their data. In California, drivers hope to use similar provisions in the CCPA (a state privacy law) to do the same.

These efforts have borne fruit. When Cornell economists, led by Louis Hyman, published research (paid for by Uber) claiming that Uber drivers earned an average of $23/hour, it was data from these efforts that revealed the true average Uber driver’s wage was $9.74. Subsequent research in California found that Uber drivers’ wage fell to $6.22/hour after the passage of Prop 22, a worker misclassification law that gig companies spent $225m to pass, only to have the law struck down because of a careless drafting error:

https://www.latimes.com/california/newsletter/2021-08-23/proposition-22-lyft-uber-decision-essential-california

But Dubal is skeptical that data-coops and transparency will achieve transformative change and build real worker power. Knowing how the algorithm works is useful, but it doesn’t mean you can do anything about it, not least because the platform owners can keep touching their knobs, twiddling the payout schedule on their rigged slot-machines.

Data co-ops start from the proposition that “data extraction is an inevitable form of labor for which workers should be remunerated.” It makes on-the-job surveillance acceptable, provided that workers are compensated for the spying. But co-ops aren’t unions, and they don’t have the power to bargain for a fair price for that data, and coops themselves lack the vast resources — “to store, clean, and understand” — data.

Co-ops are also badly situated to understand the true value of the data that is extracted from their members: “Workers cannot know whether the data collected will, at the population level, violate the civil rights of others or amplifies their own social oppression.”

Instead, Dubal wants an outright, nonwaivable prohibition on algorithmic wage discrimination. Just make it illegal. If firms cannot use gambling mechanisms to control worker behavior through variable pay systems, they will have to find ways to maintain flexible workforces while paying their workforce predictable wages under an employment model. If a firm cannot manage wages through digitally-determined variable pay systems, then the firm is less likely to employ algorithmic management.”

In other words, rather than using market mechanisms too constrain platform twiddling, Dubal just wants to make certain kinds of twiddling illegal. This is a growing trend in legal scholarship. For example, the economist Ramsi Woodcock has proposed a ban on surge pricing as a per se violation of Section 1 of the Sherman Act:

https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/print/volume-105-issue-4/the-efficient-queue-and-the-case-against-dynamic-pricing

Similarly, Dubal proposes that algorithmic wage discrimination violates another antitrust law: the Robinson-Patman Act, which “bans sellers from charging competing buyers different prices for the same commodity. Robinson-Patman enforcement was effectively halted under Reagan, kicking off a host of pathologies, like the rise of Walmart:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/27/walmarts-jackals/#cheater-sizes

I really liked Dubal’s legal reasoning and argument, and to it I would add a call to reinvigorate countertwiddling: reforming laws that get in the way of workers who want to reverse-engineer, spoof, and control the apps that currently control them. Adversarial interoperability (AKA competitive compatibility or comcom) is key tool for building worker power in an era of digital Taylorism:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

To see how that works, look to other jursidictions where workers have leapfrogged their European and American cousins, such as Indonesia, where gig workers and toolsmiths collaborate to make a whole suite of “tuyul apps,” which let them override the apps that gig companies expect them to use.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For example, ride-hailing companies won’t assign a train-station pickup to a driver unless they’re circling the station — which is incredibly dangerous during the congested moments after a train arrives. A tuyul app lets a driver park nearby and then spoof their phone’s GPS fix to the ridehailing company so that they appear to be right out front of the station.

In an ideal world, those workers would have a union, and be able to dictate the app’s functionality to their bosses. But workers shouldn’t have to wait for an ideal world: they don’t just need jam tomorrow — they need jam today. Tuyul apps, and apps like Para, which allow workers to extract more money under better working conditions, are a prelude to unionization and employer regulation, not a substitute for it.

Employers will not give workers one iota more power than they have to. Just look at the asymmetry between the regulation of union employees versus union busters. Under US law, employees of a union need to account for every single hour they work, every mile they drive, every location they visit, in public filings. Meanwhile, the union-busting industry — far larger and richer than unions — operate under a cloak of total secrecy, Workers aren’t even told which union busters their employers have hired — let alone get an accounting of how those union busters spend money, or how many of them are working undercover, pretending to be workers in order to sabotage the union.

Twiddling will only get an employer so far. Twiddling — like all “AI” — is based on analyzing the past to predict the future. The heuristics an algorithm creates to lure workers into their cars can’t account for rapid changes in the wider world, which is why companies who relied on “AI” scheduling apps (for example, to prevent their employees from logging enough hours to be entitled to benefits) were caught flatfooted by the Great Resignation.

Workers suddenly found themselves with bargaining power thanks to the departure of millions of workers — a mix of early retirees and workers who were killed or permanently disabled by covid — and they used that shortage to demand a larger share of the fruits of their labor. The outraged howls of the capital class at this development were telling: these companies are operated by the kinds of “capitalists” that MLK once identified, who want “socialism for the rich and rugged individualism for the poor.”

https://twitter.com/KaseyKlimes/status/821836823022354432/

There's only 5 days left in the Kickstarter campaign for the audiobook of my next novel, a post-cyberpunk anti-finance finance thriller about Silicon Valley scams called Red Team Blues. Amazon's Audible refuses to carry my audiobooks because they're DRM free, but crowdfunding makes them possible.

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samandcolby-ownme · 6 months

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Summary: Anon request - “Heey, i hope u're good and i hope u're accepting requests. I'm in love with ur works and i was wondering if u could write a very smutty piece about Sam and the reader being best friends (she's living with snc, bc they've been best friends all their lives). Maybe lately both Sam and the reader start noticing each other a lot more than before, like y/n is studying one night and Sam comes back from his run, they have a late night snack and it's all blushy and cute. But the upcoming days there's a lot of sexual tension between them until Sam just decides to put an end to their friendship to become more. I hope it's ok ♥️”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, angst, hair pulling, choking, scratching, oral (f rec), fluff with filth

Word Count: 5.7k | Not Edited Yet

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You sat on the couch, lap top on your lap as you typed up your paper for school. It was quiet since Sam and Colby went out to meet someone about a possible exploration, so you put your headphones on to drown out the silence.

You were too zoned out on getting this thing written that you completely missed the text Sam sent which stated that they would be home soon.

After ten more minutes of typing, you close your lap top and stand up, letting out a scream as they laugh, "Honey, we're home." Colby says with a laugh and you sigh, "I see that."

Sam smiles at you, and you hated when he did that, mainly because it made you fall more in love with him, and you couldn't do that.

You guys were best friends.

Emphasis on the friend's part. You knew them, pretty much your whole life, and even though they haven't ever really said it, you knew that it would even be weird to talk about it, or so you thought.

"How was the meeting thing?" You ask as they walk over towards you. Sam shrugs, "They're going to let us in, it's just a matter of finding out when exactly." He plops down onto the couch, "Get that paper done?"

You sit back down, opening your computer back up, "Almost. I need like two more paragraphs."

"What's it on again?" Colby asks turning your computer towards him, "Geoengineering technology? You are way too smart for your own good."

You laugh and you can see Sam staring at you lovingly but you don't want to get your hopes up, "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if that's why I get headaches, too much knowledge up here."

Colby laughs, "You know you don't have to go to school right? You can just fully commit to joining the xplr squad."

You roll your eyes, "We've been friends for how many years? I've been a part of that squad before it was even thought of."

Sam laughs as Colby nods while laughing, "You got me there. I'll give you that one." You smirk and look over at Sam, "Did you beat your time this morning? I wanted to ask but I had to leave before you got back."

Sam sighs, "yes and no. I did but not by much, so.."

"You'll get there. You have plenty of time." You smile at him and stand up, "I have an evening class tonight so I'll see you guys after five or so." You walk up to change, and right before you enter your room, Colby speaks, but it's not as quiet as he thinks, "You gotta tell her, bro."

You perk up, curious as to what they're talking about.

"There's no way. No, Colby. I can't just spring that on her." Sam argues back and his voice goes quiet, making it hard for you to hear.

You shake the thoughts out of your head and continue in to get dressed. You throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers, and one of the new hoodies from Sam's collection.

You grab your backpack and head back downstairs, "I'll see you guys later, do you want me to grab dinner on my way back?"

"Yeah, that'll be good." Colby looks at you and nods, "Get whatever, you know what we get." You smile and nod, "Okay."

Your eyes meet Sam's and he smiles at you. He loved seeing you in his own merch. You are his favorite model, but you didn't know that, for sure.

Sam's eyes stay on you as he watches you search for your keys,"by the microwave, y/n." You look over and lo and behold they're there, "Thank you!"

He yells out a quick, "Welcome!" as you leave the house. You make your way to your car, the thoughts running rabid through your mind,

He's got a girlfriend and he's going to ask me to move out because he knows I like him and it's weird.

You get in, sitting there for a moment before starting your car and driving to campus.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"It's not weird at all." Your friend Lacey says leaning back in her chair, "You've been friends for a while, and I always say the friendship stage is the most important thing before dating someone. And you my friend, have it perfect."

You sigh, "But the way they were talking I just... I feel like he's going to tell me he is talking to someone and he knows I like him and- Gahhhh." You groan quietly and take a deep breath as she leans over, "I've witnessed you and Sam together in a room full of people, and I can tell you that he doesn't look at anybody the way he looks at you."

"Really?" You ask, her words giving you a little bit of hope and she nods, "Really. And just a little f.y.i, best friends don't look at each other the way you and Sam do."

You smile slightly as you think about what she said, "I just don't know how to tell him, like.. my anxiety about the friendship ending gets the best of me because I don't want to lose him, and I know him and Colby are a package deal, so I'd lose them both and it just-"

"Take a breather. Why don't you talk to Colby about it? I'm sure he knows a lot of their end."

You shake your head, "I couldn't do that. I feel like Sam is the one I need to talk to or not at all.. I just.. I just have to get over myself."

As your professor starts talking, you keep thinking about everything, but little did you know, Sam and Colby weren't editing videos like you thought, they were having almost the same conversation you and Lacey were having.

Growing up, the adults would pick on you and Sam for claiming to be just friends, and for a while there, it was really true, but as you got older, the truth was covered up.

Each video you have done with them, the fans have pointed out things about you and Sam. Some would be simple comments, basically what Lacey said, about how you look at each other.

Then others would be making a big deal out of you picking to run to Sam after something scared you during the investigation. Most of the time it's because Sam is right there, you'd run to Colby too if you needed to, but who are you kidding, Sam is your safe place so of course you'll run to him first.

You never commented back to it, because that would just lead to more confusing things, so you just brush it off most of the time. You've never say anything to Sam about it because you know more than likely already seen them, and if he hasn't said anything, why should you?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You pull your phone out as you walk to your car, texting the group chat, I'm just going to go somewhere close, I have to study for a stupid test tomorrow and I don't want to be up all night.

You toss your backpack into the passenger seat and get in, reading Colby's reply, that's fine

Sam replies after, whatever is easiest for you.

You set your phone down and start driving, going where you need to go before heading home.

You see someone walking towards your car which makes you kind of skeptical about getting out. You reach up to lock your doors until you see the big X on the front of it, letting out a sigh of relief.

You push open your door and lean your head out, "Don't scare me like that."

"Like what?" Sam asks as he pushes his hood down, giving you a smile. You get out and stand up, "Walking towards my car when it's almost dark out with your hood up."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just threw it on, I figured you'd need help carrying stuff in." He takes your backpack from your hands and slings it over his shoulder, "Anything else?"

You shake your head, "No I can get the rest. Thank you."

He nods, smiling at you for a few seconds before cleaning his throat, "Colby is hungry so we should probably get back in there."

"Of course he is." You laugh, grabbing everything else before walking inside with Sam. You wanted to blurt it out on your way up to the house, but it was like you couldn't speak at all.

"Finally." Colby teases as you walk in through the door that Sam held open for you, "Thanks." You mumble quietly, going back to normal volume when talking to Colby, "There was a line, I'm sorry."

He laughs as he points to you, "Don't let it happened again."

You salute him, "Yes sir, Colby sir."

"Yeah that's right." He laughs, making you laugh and Sam smiles as he enjoys how comical you and Colby are.

After dinner, you find yourself on the floor of the living room with your books spread out across the rug, "I'm so screwed." You mumble to yourself, "I should know this."

"Have trouble there Einstein?" Sam asks as he walks over to the couch and sits down. You look up at him and nod, "This stupid surprise test, that actually isn't a stupid surprise because I knew about it, I just forgot.." you laugh slightly, "Will be the death of me."

"Just relax, don't overdo it. When was the last time you took a break?"

Him being so caring makes it harder, no one has ever cared about you the way Sam does, "dinner."

"Y/n that was two hours ago." Sam laughs slightly and sighs, "Take a break, go shower or something. Reset and come back."

You push yourself off of the floor and sit, "Maybe you're the one who's too smart for their own good." You stand up, stretching and Sam can't help but notice your shirt ride up your stomach a little bit.

He shakes his head as his voice is low, "If that was the case then.." he trails off as Colby comes down the steps, "you're having a party and didn't invite me?"

"Yeah, you can help me study. We'll call it a study buddy party." You laugh as Colby stands right back up after sitting down, "No thanks. I'm out."

You laugh and toss your pen down, "I'm going for a shower anyway. I need a break." You hike it up the stairs and when you look back, Sam looks away from you quickly.

You look away smiling and make your way to the bathroom.

After a while of being upstairs, finding things to do to avoid going backstairs to your books, you sit down on your bed and lay back.

You think about what you want to say to Sam, or more of what you need to say.

You decide you're going to talk to him. Right now. You get up, and walk down the steps to find Colby sitting alone on the couch.

"Where's Sam?" You look around as you walk over to Colby. He looks up at you, "Said he was going for a run."

You look at the clock, "it's almost ten pm?" You furrow your brows, Sam usually never goes on late night runs like this, "Is he okay?"

A smirk grows on Colby's face and you point, "No. no. Don't even."

He holds his hands up, "My lips are sealed." You roll your eyes and look at your books, hoping to change the subject, "Can you just help me study for a little bit?"

He sighs and sits up, "Fine."

An hour goes by and Colby went up to work on some editing, leaving you alone in the kitchen as you worked on making yourself a snack.

You whispered questions to yourself, answering them, then celebrating when you got the right answer.

You hear the door open and Sam walks in, freezing slightly as he wasn't expecting you to be up, "Oh, hey."

"Hey." You smile and turn back towards your book, "How was the run?"

He shuts the door, shrugging as he sets his phone and headphones on the counter, "Not what I expected really."

"You want to talk about it?" You go back to putting peanut butter on your banana slices and he walks over, looking over your shoulder as he reaches around and takes one, "i don't know how to talk about it."

You nod slowly, "I know that feeling."

He leans against the counter, "We've been friends for a while, y/n."

You glance over at him, a small smile resting on your lips, "Longer than a while, Sam." He chuckles and nods, "a lot longer than a while."

You set your knife down, licking your lips as you work your the courage to ask what you want to ask most.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Sam asks, reading you like an open book, "You can always talk to me. Or Colby. You know we both care so much about-"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

He's taken aback slightly, "What?" He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. I don't." He looks up at you, crossing his arms, "What makes you think that I have a girlfriend?"

You turn towards him slightly, "When I went up to get ready before my class.. I heard Colby tell you that you have to tell her, and I didn't.." you trail off, sighing as you close your eyes, "Nevermind."

Sam stares at you for a few seconds, "Oh.." he chuckles, "That.. yeah no.. that was about a girl who I've been talking to.." he follows up quickly, "..but not in the way you think."

You nod, your heart sinking slightly, "Ah, I see."

"Yeah, I have to tell her that I'm not interested in her." Sam tilts his head towards you, "She hasn't gotten the hint yet, and I don't want to be douche about it."

"Yeah, no of course not." You smirk slightly, "You're only mean to me." He laughs, "Well yeah, but you know what they say.." He sighs and leans over, taking another banana slice, "if a boy picks on a girl?"

You try to fight a smile, but you fail so you look down, "I've heard that saying before."

"Then you can probably put two and two together." He smiles at you as you look up at him, "I'm going to bed, we have to meet someone in the morning about the exploration."

"Maybe don't be up so late."

"Could say the same to you." He winks and jogs up the steps, leaving you to ask yourself, does Sam like me back?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the next few days, the energy between you and Sam was different.

You felt drawn to him.

And he felt drawn to you.

You looked at him with so much love, and lust. You needed Sam, now. It felt like you were aching for him, but after the kinda, yet not-so cryptic conversation you had with him the one night, you just weren't sure what was in store for you and Sam.

You've been flirty, almost feeling like you and Sam were closer. You would pass each other and his hand would land somewhere on your body, usually your lower back, and it would send a shock up your spine.

"Morning." You say walking down the steps, "How'd your investigation go?"

"Sam, why don't you show her the footage?" Colby says nudging Sam's arm. He takes a deep breath, "I don't think.."

"You're coming back with us tomorrow night. That's all I'm saying." Colby holds his hands up, shaking his head and you look at Sam, pointing to Colby, "What's he talking about?"

He licks his lips and sighs with a smirk, "Come on. I'll show you." You nod, following him back up the stairs, "Did it go good?"

You follow him into his room and sit on his bed as he sits in the chair infront of his computer, "It was a loving spirit, basically, so yeah, it went good."

You lean forward slightly, eyes on Sam as he clicks on things. A shy smile grows on his face, "I know you're not looking at the computer."

He slowly turns his head towards you and you keep your eyes on him, "So what if I wasn't?" He cocks his jaw to the right as he smirks, "Never said it was a bad thing." He nods towards the computer, "Come here."

You stand up, moving over to stand next to him. You press your hand on the desk and lean down slightly, watching as he presses play.

You can tell he's watching you, but he's waiting for your reaction.

"Can you repeat that for us please?" Sam asks on the video. After a few moments, you hear your name, clear as day and it wasn't from either one of the guys, "What the hell?"

You look at Sam and he holds his hand up, "Just wait."

You look back at the screen, "Something moved in that doorway." You lay your finger on the screen and Sam leans forward, "What? No way."

"Rewind it... yeah.. there stop." You glance at Sam and nod towards the screen, "Now watch." He presses play, eyes on the screen and he leans back, eyes wide, "How did we miss that?"

You laugh slightly, "I don't know."

He watches in shock, "Why don't you ever come with us anymore?"

You hoped this question wouldn't ever be asked.

"School, you know that Sam." You look at him quickly before reaching for the mouse to hit play, but he stops you, "That's the fake, I don't want to talk about it reason. Tell me the real reason."

You stand up, letting out a quiet sigh, "I just didn't want to get in the way." He tilts his head, "In the way of what?"

You shrug, unsure of what to say.

"Is it the comments? About us, and what people think we are?" Sam crosses his arms and looks up at you. You laugh nervously, giving him a nod, "I guess so."

He chews on his lip, "Uh huh." He smirks and leans forward, "Well they'll have a hay day with this." He clicks play and pulls you to sit on his thigh.

You lean forward, listening to Colby speak on the video, "What does y/n have to do with this?"

".. Sam .. it's time .."

You furrow your brows, continuing to listen to the video,

"Sam.. Sam.." you see Colby grab Sam's arm and Sam looks terrified, "Colby.."

"Sam.. she's a good spirit.. she's made it known she doesn't want to hurt anyone." Colby assures him, "you think she's telling you that you need to tell her?"

"Tell who what?" Sam shoots back and you look back at him. He's resting his chin on the palm of his hand and you look back at the screen.

"Y/n.. tell y/n that you like her more than you're letting on, man." Colby's voice is low, almost like they tried to keep it a secret but forgot the camera was rolling?

"Yeah, yeah. You're probably right, Colby.. I just.. how do they know that?" Sam is confused, "I just don't.. oh my god.."

"... together..."

"Should y/n and Sam be together?" Colby asks, "If you say yes, make that little light go off for us." Instant light and Sam pauses the video, "Lady Zeroni was known as a match maker back in her day but it turned deadly when a man who wasn't happy with the person she chose for him came back and went on a total murderous rampage throughout the entire house."

You lean back slightly, "So what you're saying is..." you laugh slightly and rest your hand on the top of his chair, "A ghostly matchmaker is saying we should.. what? Be together?"

Sam stares up at you, "The whole time, I kept thinking about you. Here alone. Like we don't know what we deal with sometimes and when your name is said, my immediate thought was you in danger and I just.."

You listen as he trails off, "When I asked about you having a girlfriend, I was scared you were going to ask me to move out because of how I feel about you."

"Wait.. how do you feel about me?" He tilts his head and tries not to smile and you laugh, putting your hand over his face, "Shut up."

He takes your hand off his face and holds it gently in yours, playing with the ring that's on your middle finger, "I'm scared as hell to want you.." his voice is quiet, "But here I am.." he looks up at you, "..wanting you anyway."

You look up at him quickly and your eyes meet his, "I know that feeling, too." He smirks slightly, letting out a breath of air, "We've been friends for a wh-" he stops himself, smiling as he corrects his words, "We've been friends for our whole lives basically, and I just.."

"Don't want to ruin the friendship?"

He nods, "Exactly."

You nod, "Since we're being honest.. I don't know when it happened, but all I know is that you're the first person I run to when I'm scared, happy, sad, anything." You tilt your head, "I mean, when we're doing a video, I run to Colby too, but mainly because he's close, but everything is just.. it's just very different with you."

"You look at me way different than you look at Colby, I know that for a fact. Actually, Colby was the one who brought it to my attention and I honestly tried pushing it off because I wasn't sure if it was too weird.. like we've known each other for so, so long and we've reached that max level of comfortability with each other... it's just.."

"It's a real amazing thing, Sam. Not many people, or should I say, many people would kill to have the type of relationship we have." You run your hand through his hair, and he closes his eyes, "Lacey told me that best friends don't look at each other the way we do."

His eyes flutter open and he smiles, "Colby told me the same thing."

"And I read the comments on our videos, and I just didn't want you guys to stop getting views or have your name being drug through the mud because we were being too touchy with each other."

He pulls you closer, "Your safety is my number one priority during those and if me keeping an arm around you while we're in some sketchy ass haunted house makes you feel secure, then I'm going to do it."

You smile, laying a hand on his chest, "I may have overthought a lot of it."

He nods, "Oh me too, one hundred percent."

He runs his bottom lip under his teeth, "I've been waiting years to do this." He slides his hand up, pulling you in so he can press his lips gently to yours.

Your hand moves to his cheek as you deepen the kiss and he pulls back, scanning over your face as a smile forms on his lips, "Now that I think about it, we'd make a great couple."

You tilt your head and scrunch up your nose, "You think so?" He pulls you in to kiss you, mumbling against your lips, "Know so."

You hum against his, "You know what else?"

"Hmm?" He tilts his head back to rest against his chair, looking up at you as he waits for you to tell him.

You stand up, his hands still on your hips, "We know everything but one thing about each other."

He raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

You slide your hands to his, "Come on." He stands up, following you over to his bed, instantly picking up what you're laying down for him, "Mm. Are you sure?"

You turn around, slipping off your sweatshirt, "You have no idea how long I've thought about getting you into bed, Golbach."

He chuckles as he slips his own shirt off, "I think I have an idea, y/l/n." His hands lay on your hips and he gently sits you down on the bed.

You lay back as his body moves over top of yours, his hips resting perfectly between your knees. It's like you were made for each other.

"Tell me what you want, babe." Sam's voice is low as he moves to kiss down your neck, "I'm all yours now."

You felt a wave of calmness wash over you before you take his hand and slide it to your throat, "Prove it."

He smirks with a slight hesitation before slowly tightening his grip, "As you wish." His lips crash into yours, kissing every once of skin he can as he makes his way down to the top of your sweats.

He bites your waist band, looking up at you as he lets them snap against your skin with a smirk following the release, "Can I take these off?"

"You don't have to ask." You go to sit up and take them off, but he presses a hand flat to your chest, "Let me, do it baby."

You bite your lip, nodding as you lay back down.

His hands slide up your clothed thighs, squeezing them before slipping his fingers between the band and your skin, "I want to take my time with this."

You needed him now, but you understood.

"Okay, baby." You whisper and smile down at him, lifting your hips as he tugs your sweats down. His lips part slightly, leaning little open kisses up your legs.

He moves back up, hovering over you he grinds against you, "You have no idea how many times I've thought about you.." he leans down and kisses you, "Thought about you."

You smile, "I relate."

He kisses down your neck, "When you came down wearing one of my hoodies, I wanted to make you so late for class."

"Would have been worth it."

He smiles and brushes hair from your face, "Fuck, why'd we wait so long?" You shrug, "Good things take time, Sam."

He smiles and looks from your lips to your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. He rolls over and you follow, straddling him as your lips reconnect with his. You grind down on him, low moans escaping the seal of your lips on one another.

"Please." You whimper out, "I need you."

Sam grips your neck, squeezing slowly, "Say it again."

Your lips form into a smile, and you whimper. "I need you."

He sits up, wrapping his arm around your back, "You're so fucking beautiful." His lips press to yours, moving slowly as he uses his arm to make your body move.

You wrap your arm around his neck and grind down, moaning his name quietly. He leans back, "lay down for me."

You move and lay on your back, watching as Sam strips the rest of his clothes off, "Take them off for me." He nods towards your panties that are still on your body and you comply by taking them off and kicking them off the bed.

"You know, I've also thought about being between those legs.." he gets on his knees, moving towards the middle of the bed by your feet, "multiple times actually.. I was so close to pulling you into the bathroom at that party we went to last week and getting on my knees for you.." his eyes move up your naked body with a smirk, "You looked so fucking good."

Your heart skips a beat, remembering that, even in your drunken state at the time, Sam wouldn't stop looking at you.

"You should have." You whisper watching as he kisses up your legs, alternating sides with each kiss, "I wouldn't have minded."

"Trust me, the next party we go to, I'll make it happen." He winks before dipping his head down and taking your clit between his lips. You let out a gasp, laying a hand on the back of his head, "Sam!"

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly as you arch your back, "Oh god, yes." You moan as you grind your hips against his face, whining out how good it feels.

His tongue sinks into you and you pull his hair, causing him to groan against you. Your other hand searches for something else to grab for leverage.

His hand throws your leg over his shoulder and your heel instantly digs in to pull him closer, "Fuck, Sam. Sam. I'm so close."

His fingertips dig into your skin, pinning you down as his tongue works its magic inside of you.

Your eyes roll back and your back lifts up off the bed as he brings you to orgasm, "Shit shit shit." You moan out, "Fuck."

He pulls away, immediately coming up to kiss you. His cock rubs against your pussy and you reach down, rubbing it up and down your soaked slit a few times before he pushes his hips forward, his cock slipping inside of you for the very first time.

You both moan, clinging to each other in anyway you can.

He slowly pulls out and slowly slides back in, taking in the feeling of you, "Fuck, you feel so good."

"S-Sam.." you press your chest to his, "Fuck me. Please."

He smirks and tilts his head, watching your face twist with the best pleasure you've ever received, "Fuck, yes." Your nails dig and drag up his back, "I love you."

Sam leans up, stopping his thrusts as he looks at you. Your face goes shocked, "I-I don't know where that ca-"

"He smiles and leans down to kiss you, "I love you more than words can say."

"Then show me." You say quickly before you press your lips to his, "and you don't have to be gentle with me anymore, Sam."

He smirks and shakes his head, "You're fucking perfect." His lips crash into yours and he pushes his hips all the way into you, moaning lowly against you.

He slides a hand down your body and hooks his arm under your knee. He pulls it up and the new angle causes you to gasp, "Fuck."

He starts out thrusting slow, but quickly builds up to a faster, punishing pace. He tilts his head back, moaning before looking down at you.

He sits up slightly and reaches his hand down to cup your chin. His thumb slides across your bottom lip and you part them instantly.

He watches as you take his thumb between your lips, hallowing out your cheeks as you suck. He groans lowly, "I'm never going to get tired of you in this position."

You smile, teeth gently biting down on his thumb and he takes a sharp breath, "Oh yeah. Never getting tired of you in general."

He pulls his hand away and lays beside you. You automatically roll over, straddling him to ride him. You tilt your head back with a moan as his cock slides back inside of you.

His hands immediately grip your hips and help guide you up and down, "Fuck." His eyes are glued to his cock disappearing inside of you, "Doing so good, baby."

Your eyes light up at the praise and he raises his eyebrows, "Like a little praise do we?" He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, "You're full of surprises aren't you?"

"You have no idea, Mr. Golbach."

He sits up slightly, "But I will."

He bends his legs up and your hands press to his knees as you bounce up and down, "Gonna cum." You whimper out as you slide all the way down and roll your hips, cursing out as you cum.

Sam is in awe of you, his eyes are moving all over your face, your body, "That's it, baby. Good girl."

Your eyes snap open and you lean down, kissing him as you move your hips up and down, "Only for you."

"Say.. say it again." He drags his fingers up your leg, "Please."

"A good girl, but only for you."

He flips you so you're back to being on your back and he's on top, thrusting into you, "Fucking right."

You smile, moaning out as you wrap your legs around his waist, "Fuck, fuck yes."

"M'so close." He mumbles into your neck, "Fuck. You're so good to me."

His thrusts slow down and turn kinda sloppy as he gets ready to break the grasp of your legs locked around him.

He pulls out to cum on your stomach and you lay there breathing heavy. He lays beside you, kissing your shoulder for a few seconds before standing up to grab you something to wipe off with.

He comes back, hanging you a towel with a smile. You take it from him and smirk, "What?"

"You're my girlfriend." He smiles and bites his lip, quietly celebrating. You tilt your head, "And you're my boyfriend." You smile at him and wipe up, tossing the towel on the floor before being met with a Sam laying his body over yours, "Should we go break the news to Colby?"

You sigh, "I can picture his celebration dance already."

Sam peppers kisses all over your face, getting you to laugh, "You're so cheesy." You turn your head, pecking his lips, "One of my favorite things about you."

He smiles and tucks your hair behind your ear, “You.. are my favorite thing about me.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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wonders-of-the-cosmos · 9 months

Text

Cosmic Paradigm Shift: New Research Doubles Universe’s Age to 26.7 Billion Years

A new study proposes that the universe may be 26.7 billion years old, challenging the widely accepted estimate of 13.7 billion years based on the Lambda-CDM concordance model.

Our universe could be twice as old as current estimates, according to a new study that challenges the dominant cosmological model and sheds new light on the so-called “impossible early galaxy problem.

For years, astronomers and physicists have calculated the age of our universe by measuring the time elapsed since the Big Bang and by studying the oldest stars based on the redshift of light coming from distant galaxies. In 2021, thanks to new techniques and advances in technology, the age of our universe was thus estimated at 13.797 billion years using the Lambda-CDM concordance model.

However, many scientists have been puzzled by the existence of stars like the Methuselah that appear to be older than the estimated age of our universe and by the discovery of early galaxies in an advanced state of evolution made possible by the James Webb Space Telescope. These galaxies, existing a mere 300 million years or so after the Big Bang, appear to have a level of maturity and mass typically associated with billions of years of cosmic evolution. Furthermore, they’re surprisingly small in size, adding another layer of mystery to the equation.

Some theories like Zwicky's ''tired light'' theory, and Paul Dirac's ''coupling constants'' may be one of the possible explanations and putting the ''cosmological constant'' under possible revision.

source

#jwst #jameswebb #telescope #cosmologia #cosmology #space #universe #universo #astronomy #astronomia #physics #fisica #bigbang #energiaescura #darkenergy #galaxies #stars

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sexydreamgirl · 7 months

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I’m sorry to ask this repetitive question but I am autistic and struggle to understand many basic concepts within the Law of Assumption it's especially harder since most people speak in riddles and I'm not good with those things. I need clarification on a few things; What is imagination and what does it mean to imagine? Must you always be aware of the state that you're entertaining and micromanage your thoughts? How do I ignore the 3D and live in the imagination? Am I supposed to ignore all of my 3D responsibilities and pretend that I'm living my dream life? For example, if I have a test on Thursday and I want to manifest that I don't, should I not study and pretend that I don't have a test? If I remind myself, "Oh, you need to study for your test on Thursday" and I continue to study even though I'm manifesting that I don't have a test, would that be a contradiction and mean that I'm admitting that I don't have my desire? Should I think and act a certain way or continue living my life? There's too much information about what to do and what not to and I'm so confused because I don't understand it and it makes me insane!

Ma vie, it's much simpler than you think it is. Allow me to break it down little by little:

What is imagination and what does it mean to imagine?

Imagination: the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.

To imagine simply means to devise an idea. Ideas owe their origin to imagination. Before it became reality, everything around you was once merely an idea: the internet, social media apps, technology, electronics, the model of your home, cars, freeways, haircut trends, the design of the clothes you are currently wearing, the very idea of even wearing clothes, art as a whole, it doesn't matter what you point at; EVERYTHING was born from imagination.

Must you always be aware of the state that you're entertaining and micromanage your thoughts?

You make acknowledging your state sound like something you have to be constantly monitoring. You don't have to be monitoring anything. As I'm sure you know, you're always in a state because you are always conscious of being something. Regarding micromanaging your thoughts: NO! Your thoughts indicate your state so if you're thinking against your desired state of consciousness then that means you are not conscious of being who you desire to be, and so you change that via I AM and you persist in it.

How do I ignore the 3D and live in the imagination? Am I supposed to ignore all of my 3D responsibilities and pretend that I'm living my dream life?

Ignoring the 3D is not about pretending it isn't there. It is about not letting it have the last word.

Pretend? NO! Pretend implies that it isn't real, when imagination IS REAL. IMAGINATION IS THE FOUNDATION OF THE WORLD AROUND YOU!

"Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." - Philippians 4:8

When you live in imagination, you contemplate what you would like to experience and then immerse yourself in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. Accept that invisible state (your dream life) as reality. Then go your way knowing the desire is now yours.

If I remind myself, "Oh, you need to study for your test on Thursday" and I continue to study even though I'm manifesting that I don't have a test, would that be a contradiction and mean that I'm admitting that I don't have my desire? Should I think and act a certain way or continue living my life?

Do what you have to do in your day-to-day life, just remember to bring yourself back to that which you desire to be. Walk as though you were and persist in it. As I said, ignoring the 3D is not about pretending it isn't there. Attending it for a moment will not kill your imaginal act. So you take care of what needs to be taken care of and remember to bring yourself back to your idea if you waver. Accept what you want in imagination. Remember that imagination is the cause and the 3D is the effect.

I hope this cleared up your confusion. As always, if you have further questions you're welcome to send them over <3

#recycling answers now yeah #you guys will be seeing me say this in another post soon as well #queued

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myouicieloz · 5 months

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Irene and you have been together for the past couple months, but have only gone as far as making out. But, this time is different and you tell her that you’re ready to go all the way, which leads to your first time together.(smut)

Show me how

Bae Joohyun x reader

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: sorry for the wait!!! i wanted this to be sweet and cozy, almost like a hug from someone dear yk? i hope it is to your liking <3

Dating Irene was like a summer breeze: it was easy, fresh, and cozy, just like feeling the sun on your skin, after spending too much time locked up at home. Unlike your past relationships, you felt completely comfortable talking to her about anything. You were always on the same page, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with her more and more each day as you observed her kind, caring and cheerful nature.

Even though you have dated people before, you’ve never gone too far beyond just a few kisses or touches, simply too insecure and scared to be that exposed in front of others. Besides, you’d never actually trusted any of your past partners, either. They were clearly only using you for your body and your fame— trying to prove a point by attempting to ruin the shy, reserved girl from the group. As much as you knew that was how most of them saw you: merely a prize, waiting to be conquered, you couldn’t help but to feel used and lost, wondering if the problem wasn’t, in fact, yourself.

Which was the reason you were so insecure about evolving things with Joohyun, ever since you’ve started dating.

Truth be told, most of your hesitancy came as a way of protecting yourself. Being thrown into the industry by your parents so young— first as a child model, then as a trainee, and even now, as a senior idol— has pushed a lingering feeling of being constantly displayed to others on your skin, since that’s how you’ve always felt: exposed to tabloids and cameras in every way dimmed possible, from such a young age. Your whole life, ever since childhood, has always been rushed. Not once did you remember not being pushed to do things or act more mature than your age. In response to that, building up rough boundaries and ensuring your own peace and quietude were the first things you did, as soon as you managed to obtain full control of your life and your actions. You so desperately needed it; you’d accept nothing to be rushed, at least not anymore.

Which was why Irene and you were so perfectly matched. You felt it from the first time you were introduced to each other, through Joy.

You’d been talking nonchalantly in the girl’s parents’ cafe when Irene barged in, making you immediately drawn to her— as were everyone else at the establishment. She simply had such an angelical aura: like an untouched piece of marble, beautiful to look at, and too exquisite to touch.

“I think you’d get along well. You both seem like you need some company, you know.” Joy’s words made you both laugh awkwardly, at the time. Yet, she was right, in the end. Both of you had been alone for many years, longing for something that just seemed impossible to find in the current days. At least, not with such a technological world and people’s routine being so energetic, frantic, and intense.

After your first encounter, mediated by Sooyoung, you started seeing each other frequently. You enjoyed talking about art, and she’d even agreed to join you in your latest hobby: ceramics. The two of you spent hours together, getting messy with clay, laughing, going on coffee dates and walks in parks that were full of green— your favorite color, she quickly learned. It was easy to be in Irene’s presence, and, for you, it was even easier to fall in love with her.

You shared sweet kisses by moonlight, stayed up until late watching the stars, and for the first time in so long, life felt right to you; like it wasn’t made of demands or expectations that left a bitter feeling in your guts.

For once, you felt as bright and happy as a butterfly, in a garden full of flowers. With Irene, life had a meaning, a purpose.

She’s also been nothing but respectful to you in all those months you’ve been dating, too. Not even once had she pressed you about sex, always making sure you were comfortable with everything and ensuring you two talked out your issues and boundaries. You got to know each other deeply before your bodies interlocked, and that was something you’ve never had with your previous relationships. You loved Joohyun for who she was: the kind, attentive, caring leader and friend with so many deep interests and hobbies. You could spend the rest of your days with her and still feel like there were so many parts of her to unravel. She was indeed pure art, an untouched angel.

And, while it had been crucial for you to take things slow, you now realized you truly felt ready to take a further step into your relationship. She was patient, calm, and you felt ready. As you stare at Irene, chatting ever so sweetly with her bandmates, your chest fills with warmth, knowing much you absolutely adored being hers and how lucky you were to have her to yourself. You trusted your girlfriend more than anything in the world, and you desired her so, so much— in every way dimmed possible.

With that, couldn’t help but to gawk at her body as she walked towards the bar built in Yeri’s garden, the wooden structure put up to celebrate the maknae’s birthday. It was a simple and reserved celebration, yet your eyes were practically undressing your girlfriend right in the middle of the garden, for everyone to see.

You wanted her badly, like you’ve never wanted anything else in your life. And it’s not like you needed anything else, either. Not when you had her, making you feel so safe and secure. So right in a world full of wrongs.

Irene must’ve noticed the frown on your face— as you’ve always been pretty expressive— because she approached you quickly, placing her free hand on your waist in a delicate motion, “Hey, is everything ok?”

You take the drink she’s been holding in your hands and take a sip, nodding, “It’s all good. I’d like to go home, though. Do you think Yeri would be sad about it?”

You watch your girlfriend’s brows furrow, scanning your body in search of any signs of discomfort. When she doesn’t find any, her expression turns even more confused.

“I mean, we’ve just sang her happy birthday, and the girls wanted to—” You cut her by brushing her long, thick hair off her shoulders, fingers hovering her elbows as you bite your cheek to suppress a smile, once you feel her shiver. You’ve never touched her like this, specially in a semi-public space. Sure, you’ve fooled around many times, but you’ve never presented yourself with such assertiveness, such hunger.

Irene gulps. She feels her self-control escaping her body when your mouth brushes hers, mint breath caressing her skin. Yet, your sultry lips never found her mouth, and Joohyun finds herself opening her eyes— never even realizing when she closed them.

“Home, please?” You ask again, making a show of sipping on her drink. Irene’s gaze follows your mouth— all of her focus on the way you suck on the straw: so eagerly… much inappropriate for the scenery.

Safe to say, you find yourself humming happily in your girlfriend’s car not even five minutes later, as Irene eyes you suspiciously from the driver’s seat.

Despite nearly dying of curiosity, Irene doesn’t utter a word until you’ve arrived at your massive house, eyes still narrowed at your direction as if she expects you to regret your decision and tell her to go back to Yeri’s place immediately. She’s absolutely conscious of the anticipation working its way on her skin; it heats her to the core, and soon enough, it becomes impossible for her to stay put. Just the thought of having you, being the one who has the privilege to touch you, unravel you, make your eyes roll in pleasure… It’s enough for her panties to dampen and her hands close into fists, preventing herself from grabbing you by the hips and fucking you.

She licks her lips, staring at you through her lashes, still expecting. You’re the one in charge; with one word, your girlfriend will grant you all of your darkest, dirtiest wishes. The only thing you have to do is ask. Say it, even, and it’s yours.

You know it as much, as you interlock your fingers with hers and take your time going up the stairs, through the hallways as you kiss Irene without rush, ravishing her taste and her sweet, plumpy lips.

“I want you, Joohyun.” You breathe, guiding your girlfriend onto the mattress as you take your time untying your dress, letting it fall down your shoulders at its own pace. Even though you find yourself bare in front of her, you don’t feel threatened in the slightest. “Want you to make me feel good.”

If anything, you can only feel safe, respected, and loved. Feelings you’ve spent so long searching for. Far too long.

She extends her hand to you, holding you with such tenderness it nearly makes you melt on the spot. Soon, you find yourself under her, being smothered with kisses that trail down your chin to your neck and chest. However, Irene’s warm mouth stops just before touching you— to grant you plenty of time to process it all through, most certainly.

In fact, the words that brush past her lips reassure you of that, as she looks up, tone bearing a hint of hesitance. As much as she was nearly jointing from need, she wanted you to be completely clear of your wishes, “Are you really sure?”

You nod. “The most I’ve been in my entire life.” You murmur, scratching her scalp. Your touch is both reassuring and demanding, bringing her closer to your skin.

You let out a loud moan once her mouth is finally on you, and God was it worth the wait. Her saliva-soaked kisses leave a trail down your abdomen until every inch of skin is hers, and she’s reached your thighs. Her eyes are dark and don’t leave your piercing gaze, either, as she lowers herself until she’s reached your core.

You can tell she’s studying you: taking note of every touch, every kiss that has you gasping and stuttering. Irene takes delight in testing your preferences, attuning herself to what pleasures you the most. Ravishing herself with your body’s reactions, like the attentive woman she is.

“You are too beautiful, my love” She praises, grabbing both of your legs as she opens them, now presenting you completely exposed to her. You try to close them, involuntarily, but Irene shushes you, pecking the inner skin until you’ve relaxed enough for her to start teasing, once again. It’s only then that she bites, and even though her teeth barely sink in, it’s enough for you to jerk your body forward, a surprised gasp evading your lips.

It makes her laugh, adding another memory to her mind. “You’re sensitive, pretty girl.”

It’s the way she hums that provokes such sensations out of your body, you decide. The precise pressure her lithe fingers apply to your waist, the way she palms your breasts, twisting and pinching your nipples until they’re red enough to her liking— each time a little harder, to entice a louder moan. She’s playing with you as she wishes; as she’s always dreamed of, and it’s driving you absolutely crazy. You’re drenched, and Irene hasn’t even touched you properly.

She gathers your wetness with two of her fingers, going up and down on your slit until she’s gathered enough coat that she finds them sticky, noticeably wet. Only when she’s deemed enough, her fingers leave your sex and find their way onto her mouth, sucking without any rush. Your own throat starts to water as she does so, her eagerness dense enough to make you divert your gaze, feeling your face heatening up. You don’t keep your looks averted for long, since those same fingers gently tap your lips, gagging you as far as they can without making you choke.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/n.” She whispers, with her thumb caressing your mouth, encouraging you to continue. Which you do, with your eyes never leaving her hungry gaze.

Once she decides you’ve done your job of cleaning well enough, Irene’s attention returns to your pussy, as she lowers herself once again to your core.

“Do you want me here?” She blows on your cunt, smiling against your skin as she hears your loud whines. She does not pity you at all though, placing a languid, slurpy kiss on your pussy before moaning, too. This was heaven, for both of you, “Or perhaps here?”

You were sure you were mumbling too many incoherences, now. Not that you cared, anyway. You couldn’t, not with the way her nails were scratching your skin so gently, or her own wet, loud grunts that reverberated onto your pussy and made you see stars, not a single thought going through your mind. All you could think of was how desperately you needed to cum, how ardently you wish Irene’s mouth never leaves your skin.

You feel her hot breath fade from between your thighs. Thankfully, her fingers find their way to your dripping cunt before you even manage to whine, the mix of sensations making you press yourself onto her hand, so she’d reach further. You loved her so much. You needed more.

“S-so good.” You murmur, lost in pleasure. As soon as you close your eyes, dropping your head back to deepen your sensations, Irene places kisses onto your abdomen, now going all the way up until your lips interlock in a slow, deep kiss.

“Don’t close your eyes, my love.” She whispers, with her fingers still working onto building up on your pleasure. She squeezes one of your breasts as she says so, enticing another particularly loud moan from you—just as she intended to. Your sounds were the most heavenly melodies to her, and Irene simply couldn’t believe she’s spent a lifetime without hearing them. “Look at me when I fuck you. Fuck- you’re so tight, dearest.”

The low pitch in her voice makes you clench, humming as you keep your eyes on her.

Irene’s fingers are knuckles deep inside you, her rhythm intensifying as she nearly retreats them fully from your cunt to ram on you again. Your back arches, and she licks her lips, drinking from your reactions. It’s nearly unbearable, to have such focus on yourself; her sole attention, adoring and memorizing every inch of your body in her mind. Her gaze, so hungry yet compose, her light kisses on your burning skin, and her thumb brushing your clit without paying much attention to it—it all works you up to a hard, shaking orgasm. You can feel the waves of pleasure building up in your cunt, yet you can’t seem to muster the right words to tell Irene just that. It’s all glossy and unfocused, not even enough air to calm you down from the orgasm you can sense that is so soon.

“D-don’t stop, please. Oh my fucking— don’t stop, ’so close,” You manage to utter, gripping your girlfriend’s hair ever so desperately.

She does feel you, though. Before you even say it. Irene can tell, from the way your pussy clenches, tightening around her hold. “Come, princess. For me.”

The permission was all you needed to reach your high, and you nearly get overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you feel. It escalates to your whole body until you find yourself as a trembling mess, chest moving frantically to adjust your fast breathing. You let out an even louder whine as Irene’s mouth is on you again.

“Shh, take it easy. I’m just cleaning you up, love.” She tells you, once you try to move her head from her cunt. And, even though her words add a bit of a scold, there’s a hint of a smirk on her face, as she adds. “Don’t whine. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I left you so messy like that?”

Now that you’ve come down from your high, Irene’s words make you blush. She didn’t have time to make a joke or give you a reassuring tug, as she usually would, though. Her focus is on your sex, as she pays long, sloppy licks to it. Her nose brushes your clit— the post-orgasm sensitiveness making the sensation twice as hard, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning and begging.

“J-joohyun…” You try to get her attention, after what it feels like a lifetime. You can feel the pleasure starting to build up again, and your girlfriend is clearly dozed out, vigorously enamored with your cunt as she eats you out for her pleasure. With one last harsh suck on your clit, Irene abides to your wishes, her face now in front of yours.

You take a minute to brush her delicate features, before speaking anything. Her defined jaw, her long lashes, her lustrous eyes. You adore her; she truly makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

“Perfect.” She murmurs, breaking the gap between you as her lips kiss you with gentleness. Her words make you smile onto the kiss, caressing her neck as you bring her even closer. “My love.”

“I could say the same of you.” You divert your eyes to the covers, insecure about your following words. Breathing deeply, you continue, “Thank you for this. And for not rushing me, even after so many months. I loved it, and I love to be with you.”

As you stare at Irene’s big, chocolate eyes, you find nothing but the purest form of love. There’s no possible way to not feel comfortable under such embrace.

“I’d wait many more. Years, even, if it means having you by my side. I’m in love with you, Y/n. Not just for sex, not for your body.” She clarifies, hiding her face on your neck as she always does, when you find yourselves tangled in a messy embrace. “I love you for who you are. Your qualities, your flaws, your passions… And I’m very thankful to feel loved in so many ways by you, too.”

You frown, playfully poking her ribs. “Are you saying I’m flawed?”

Irene rolls her eyes, silencing you with a kiss.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

And soon you’re making out again, with the promise of a long, long night. You feel respected, safe, and secured. As you run your fingers through your girlfriend’s small waist, you immediately know: there’s no place elsewhere you’d rather be.

#red velvet x reader #red velvet imagines #red velvet smut #irene smut #red velvet irene #bae joohyun #irene x reader #bae joohyun x reader #sol writes

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misctf · 10 months

Text

The Reversal Agents

Detective Hart sighed as a young man struggled against his restraints and the firm grasp of his supervisor, Detective Philips. It was supposed to be a routine case: Frank Grimes, a 32-year old male and serial transformee was masquerading as a 22-year college senior and frat president. Not the worst illegal transformation Hart had seen in his few years as a member of the Department of Affairs Related to Transformation- hell he questioned if any of this was necessary. But Frank had at least 24 counts of illegal transformations against him and so it was time for the department to step in. Originally, the department was founded to reverse involuntary transformations, or ones that were deemed disruptive- hence the nickname “the reversal agents”. Minor transformations like this though? Hart didn’t fully understand.

“Alright Frank, I’m sure you know the drill.” Philips said, emotionless, “We’re going to...”

“I’m not Frank!” The young jock said angrily, “My name is Jared Wilson! I have no idea who the fuck Frank is.”

Hart stepped in, “Right... Okay Jared, we have reason to believe that...”

“Let me talk to my parents! Or a lawyer!” Jared insisted, “People can vouch for me. My bros, my girlfriend, fuck dude you can’t do this! I have no idea what any of you are talking about.”

“Look, our technology has a high success rate of picking up residual signs of transformation. You can cut the act, Frank.” Hart was getting annoyed, usually the perp would break by now. Yeah it sucked going back to their original body, but usually voluntary transformees just accepted it.

“You never fucking scanned me, dude!” Jared insisted, “You just abducted me out of nowhere!” Hart frowned, “You gotta believe me! That Philips guy, he has it out for me. His son rushed our frat, didn’t make the cut. He’s out to get me!” Philips face remained unchanged.

Hart scoffed at the notion, “Look, no more games.” He pulled out his residual detection scanner, quickly scanning Jared. However, after a few seconds the machine read “No Transformation Detected”, “What the...”

“Scanner must be broken.” Detective Philips stated calmly, “Frank transformed many times. Causes the scanners to read unreliably.” Hart nodded, he wasn’t aware of that fact, but given that Philips started when the department was founded, he had no reason to disagree.

Jared for his part, couldn’t believe this was happening, the fear evident in his eyes. He wanted to run, resist, whatever he could do, but his restraints prevented him. He continued to plead with them, but it all fell on deaf ears. He tensed up as he read the sign on a large metal door: “Reversal Chamber”.

“Wait no, please!” Jared insisted, “I’m me! You can’t do this!” But he was thrown into the room, and the door slammed behind him. He looked around desperately, trying to look for an escape. But the room was windowless, the walls adorned with scanners, tubes, and metallic arms.

Meanwhile, Detectives Hart and Philips entered the control room, where they were able to view Jared through a one-way window. As Hart watched the panicked young man, he felt like something was wrong.

“We’ll be using a template model of Frank. I’ve added some things too. He’ll never wants to use transformation technology again.”

Hart raised an eyebrow. Template models were questionably ethical- they were not true reversals per se. Instead of reversing a transformation, it forced a transformation into the preprogramed template, “Sir, only the district manager can approve a template model, did you...”

“I’d stop asking questions, detective.” Philips said, turning to Hart, “Just enjoy the show.” The older officer pressed a button and a loud automated voice reverberated through the room “Reversal to Begin.”

Jared for his part was terrified. He watched as his handcuffs came undone, and at this point, he ran over to bang on the door. But to his shock, a few metal arms came down and grabbed him, hoisting him into the air where he could see himself in the reflection of the metal room. He let out a yelp as they ripped his clothing off, leaving him naked.

“Wait stop!” He called out desperately, tugging at the metal arms that suspended him in the air.

He watched as a few scanners moved and positioned themselves around his toned legs. The young man felt a strange sensation as the muscle in his legs seemed to slowly atrophy. His impressive calves became diminished and filled with fat as they plumped up. The light hair on them darkened and grew thicker. He grunted as the scanners slowly moved up his legs, ensuring the no part of them remained unchanged.

‘Who the fuck was this guy?’ Jared thought, a strange sensation emanating from his legs. They felt heavier, almost more tired. Jared could feel the extra years of age and lack of exercise. And that terrified him. As a runner and lacrosse player, fitness was an essential part of his life.

It was at this point though that several clamps shot out from the walls and wrapped themselves around his impressive arms. A saddle-like device also emerged from below him and slowly wrapped itself around his cock, balls, and ass. He let out a groan as the saddle tightened around his member, releasing small waves of pleasure. Meanwhile, the part around his ass began jabbing several small needles into the muscles. Again, the muscles there seemed to atrophy and instead fill with fat, causing his perky ass to jiggle with only slight movement.

‘Why... why does this feel so good.’ Jared thought, letting out a small moan as the machine continued to manipulate his cock and balls.

At the same time, the clamps that had covered his arms began to work their magic. He felt a strong compressive force in his biceps and triceps, as the toned muscle there slowly dwindled away. With each compressive force, more and more of the muscle vanished, while needles injected a substance that promoted fat growth. His forearms were similarly not spared, as they too became less impressive, while the hair on them grew longer and darker. Finally, the clamps came undone, his once impressive arms were no more. Despite the pleasure that he was experiencing, the young jock’s eyes were filled with terror at the loss of all his hard work. He was beginning to understand the type of man he was becoming- and it was the very type of guy he had lived his life not wanting to be.

“Please! Stop this!” He called out desperately, “I swear, I’m me! I’m Jared!” But his pleas were futile.

He let out a grunt as the saddle around his privates came undone and he could finally appreciate the damage that was done there. His previously well-groomed member was covered in a dense layer of pubes, which had already begun emitting a powerful musk, causing him to gag. But on top of that, it appeared that both his cock and balls had shrunk considerably, while he could appreciate the heftiness of his new jiggly ass. But before he could fully come to terms with these changes, a few of the arms began massaging his abdomen. At the same time, another started spraying a foul smelling liquid across his toned abs and chest, causing Jared to scrunch his nose.

“Woah!” He called out in surprise as he was forced to raise his arms.

He watched as the foul smelling liquid was also sprayed into his pits, the liquid being quickly absorbed. And that’s when he started feeling it. An intense itching seemed to course through his abs, chest, and pits. He could only watch as his treasure trail started to darken at first with more hair, until it final began moving upwards along his abdomen. At the same time, lighter hairs formed around his thicker treasure trail, also following up along his abdomen. Eventually, the hair reached his chest, where it exploded across his firm pecs. It darkened rapidly, until becoming curly and twisted, moving up until it reached his neckline. His pits were no exception as the hair there became thicker and darker, emitting a musk equal in intensity as the one from his ungroomed pubes.

“Fuck!” Jared cursed, feeling tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. This was too much. All of this was too much. He didn’t want any of this- and the frustration was only mounting as the detectives continued to ignore him.

Jared let out a grunt as he felt a strange pressure building in his abdomen. The metal arms grabbed and pulled on his hairy abs, and the young man could only watch as the hands filled with his fat. And it didn’t seem to stop. As they continued to pull, more and more fat pushed his abdomen out. His abs were long gone by this point, and much to his horror, the hands didn’t seem to be stopping. Further and further, his new gut seemed to push out more and more. When the hands did release his gut, it jiggled and slumped down due to gravity. At the same time, his firm pecs softened and only pushed out with new jiggly fat. Jared at this point became fully aware of just how tired and out of shape his new body was. The thought of running or engaging in the physical activity his old body was used to just didn’t seem to be something this body would be capable of. He could only let out a frustrated grunt at this point- maybe just maybe he could find a way out of this. If he finished the transformation, he could lawyer up and prove his case. He was confident he could overcome this.

Meanwhile, Hart and Philips watched as the machine continued its process. Clamps had come down and began working on Jared’s face, adding some fat and spraying the hair growth serum. Hart watched as a beard grew across the former jock’s face and piercings were inserted along his nose and ears. Having had enough, he turned to Philips.

“Sir, something seems off about the whole thing. My scanner didn’t pick up any changes and this isn’t how a voluntary transformee usually acts”

“Detective Hart, are you questioning me?” Philips replied sternly. Hart shook his head, “Good.”

They continued to watch as the machine finished making the changes to Jared. With the last few physical changes made to his formerly chiseled face, the scanners and hands went back into rest mode. Before them now stood a perfect copy of Frank, something that Detective Hart felt mixed about. Something was surely wrong. But before he could say anything, he watched as Philips pressed another button. A pair of goggles slowly approached Jared’s face.

“Hey now, those are for mental realignment. You need the director’s permission to use those.” Hart said, taken aback, “And if this was a suspected voluntary transformation, there shouldn’t be a need for...”

“Are you going to report me, detective?” Philips asked.

“Sir, something is wrong with all this. Jared mentioned your son not making it into his frat. Is this some kind of...”

“So what? What would you tell the boss, eh? That I struck a deal with the real Frank? That I’m turning Jared into Frank and will let the real Frank live Jared’s life as frat president, just as long as he accepts my kid? Who would believe that?” Philips chuckled and turned to Hart, “Remember, insubordination has consequences, right Detective Hart? Wouldn’t want anything happening to you out there.” Hart gulped and nodded, watching as the mental realignment technology fastened to Jared’s head.

Jared felt the goggles fasten to his head, unsure of what was to come. But just as they became fixed to his head, his vision became filled with multiple images. He didn’t understand what they were, but as he focused, he could see images of a life he never lived. Dropping out of school, living in his mom’s basement, finding a more successful boyfriend, and moving in with the man he loved. Memories of a lifetime playing videogames for hours, failing his high school classes, eating junk food, and discovering he was gay seemed to become his reality. Jared didn’t understand what these images were supposed to be doing and he focused on his own memories, but as the images flashed faster and faster before his eyes, it was becoming difficult to ignore. More intimate details of his... no Frank’s life flashed before his eyes. Images of pleasing his boyfriend in all kinds of ways, how hot he found the other man, and the desires to do even more with the man started forcing themselves into his brain.

“No... not my life...” Jared mumbled as the images continued to flash.

They were so quick, so powerful... each image repeated over and over again, strange spirals appearing behind them. And as those images flashed, Jared could feel the memories become real- the physical sensations of each detail reverberating through his body. The first time he sucked a dick, the first time he bottomed, each of those intimate memories becoming more and more real to him. He licked his lips at these new sensations, and moaned when he remembered the night his boyfriend had fucked him. And as more details of Frank’s life flashed before his eyes, Jared became content. It didn’t necessarily feel like he was being overwritten, but more of an acceptance... an understanding that the images and feelings were in reality his life. Maybe once he liked sports, had a girlfriend, and wanted to graduate college... but now, that life and those memories, simply weren’t of interest to him. Grooming was always so much work, exercising and keeping his body in shape was stressful, and his girlfriend would always nag him. He was happy with the idea of sitting on the couch, eating and drinking all day, and waiting for his boyfriend to come home for a fun night. And as a small smile formed on Jared’s new face, the former college frat president happily accepted that his life was now that of Frank Grimes- his life as Jared Wilson was just a distant memory...

Afterwards, Frank collected his clothing and met the two detectives in a separate room. They were informing him about the process, something about being banned from using transformation technology, but Frank couldn’t understand why he’d ever want to use it anyway. He was perfectly content with his life and his loving boyfriend. The detectives were nice enough to drop him off at his apartment, and Frank quickly got ready. He showered, enjoying the warm water on his body. He slapped his gut and grinned- Cole was into bigger guys and with the way he was going, he wondered how large he could get. And when Cole finally did walk in, Frank ran over to him, kissing him deeply.

“Never leave me like that again babe.” Cole said, staring deeply into Frank’s eyes, “It’s always so tough when you go on your little adventures.”

Frank grinned, “Don’t you worry.” He said leaning in for another kiss, “I’m happy where I am.”

And as their clothes were thrown to the side and the sensual night went on, Frank couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Memories of his life as Jared were still there- all the girls he hooked up with, the nights studying, and all the days practicing on the field. It all seemed so stressful looking back, perhaps he should thank the reversal agents for their help. He wondered what the old him would’ve thought about this. But as he guided Cole’s dick into his mouth, Frank couldn’t care less.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #age progression #mental change #personality tf

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