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Not Like Other Girls
🕑 Added 2025-05-01 03:13:56 +0000 UTCWritten by HikerAngel
Commissioned by 10k
Ashleigh awoke to her favorite person in the world, a poster of actor Tom Hiddleston which had been precariously taped atop her ceiling so that whenever she opened her eyes, the first thing she’d see was him. Another wonderful day to be alive!
She ripped the latest date off of her Supernatural-branded calendar as she ritualistically did every morning, making sure to archive all the ones with Misha Collins’ face on them for prime kissing material later. Jensen Ackles was a total hottie too, but he wasn’t a yaoi fan like Ashleigh was sure Misha had been.
So obviously, the twenty two year old was delighted to see the face of an Angel—Castiel—accompanying the date of June 4th, 2012. She nearly squee’d with delight as she recalled that it had been exactly one month since her favorite movie of all time had been released! The first Avengers movie!
She hopped up and down in her purple pajama onesie at the thought of going to the theater to see it a fifth time, but at this point only a select group of showings were still airing and her buzzkill of a mom certainly wasn’t going to take her. How unfair life was! She’d have to wait a whole other week before the movie would be made available for digital purchase! A whole week to wait before she could make GIFsets of her beloved Hiddleston’s smirk.
She sat up in her bed, taking a moment to look at her pajamas in the mirror as she rustled up her breast-length purple hair to an acceptable level of scene queen—ensuring that a long fringe with a blue streak covered her forehead and sometimes one of her eyes, depending on her mood. The Pikachu shirt which she wore as PJs hinted at her enticing midriff, even though she would never consciously weaponize it. Her sizable, perky breasts widened the gap between the electric rat’s eyes. She always loved that—it made him look “derpy.” Her pajama shorts were much the same story, revealing a ton of toned, lengthy leg even though it was never her intention to show off just how flawlessly beautiful her skin was. Her entire perception of reality was based on a conglomerate mimicry of an internet culture that only spanned about a decade and a half—and she was easily the sexiest girl it had ever produced by complete accident.
Her custom-knitted Onceler pillow might as well have been the luckiest cloth bag in existence as her insanely smoldering form pulled it into a full-body embrace, choosing to lay back in bed. Its squeezing capacity was pushed to the limit as she collapsed back onto her bed having reserved her slim legs to hug the pillow as well. For a moment, all was right.
If only her nagging mom hadn’t shown up to ruin the moment.
“Ashleigh? Are you still in the house?”
The terminally online Tumblr twenty-something grumbled as she scrunched her body up on the bed. Maybe, if she was super, suuuuper quiet, her mom wouldn’t check in her room for her. Regretfully, her childish plan didn’t exactly pan out as planned.
“Ashleigh, you aren’t even hiding. I see you on the bed there. C’mon, get up. We need to talk.”
“Zomg, mom! Leave me alonez!” Ashleigh’s muffled voice came from her Onceler pillow. “I’m the spawn of our lord Satan!”
Her mother took a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose between tired eyes. “Hon, You’re 22. This whole shtick was cute when you were ten, but now you really need to look for a job, or at least commit to a college you’d like to attend.” While Ashleigh had convinced herself otherwise, the world was not currently living in 2012. It was 2025, and culture had all but left Ashleigh behind to the annals of Tumblr. Ashleigh’s mom rested a sympathetic hand on her daughter’s shoulder, only to be met with a flailing hand of opposition.
“Grr, mom! Don’t touch me with your weaksauce hand!”
Accepting that she could not win with her daughter, the older woman made her way back to the door, stopping once she reached the handle. “Ashleigh, I’m serious, I want either a job application or a college application worked on by the time I come home from work. Otherwise, I’ll pull the plug on the WiFi for a whole week!”
That got Ashleigh’s full, undivided attention. “Mom! What the heckzors!?” She shot up from the bed, grumpily flailing her body as she knew no other form of protest.
But her mom was staunch in her stance, saying not another word as she left for work. The purple haired girl eventually moseyed on out of bed, changing into her favorite fit—all from Hot Topic, nowhere else! She slipped thigh-high purple and pink stockings over her supple thighs, matching those limbs with fishnet fingerless gloves over her hands that went down to her elbows. She slipped on a pair of DC sneakers and took a flat iron to her blue-streaked bangs for the third time that week. She hated wearing underwear, so she simply slipped her patented “cool stuff!” shirt over her c-cup breasts and a denim skirt over her naked hips. A sparkly pink belt held it in place, while a second belt was added just for “teh fashion.” A few spiked cuffs, a puffy faux fur bracelet, and a inky black choker later, she was ready to start the day.
But during the entire routine of clothing herself, a scowl refused to leave her face.
Ashleigh’s mother had left her to stew in her own rage and fury, which she vented in the usual way—logging onto Tumblr.com and writing a strongly-worded rant blogpost with prose that would make Tolkien tear up at its magnificence.
“MY MOM I5 5UCH A B WORD! >:( 5H3’5 MAKIN M3 G3T A JOB!!!!!!!!!1! I ALR3ADY HAV3 A ROARSPON5IBILITY TO MY 5IM5 THO!!!!! :3 ALSO I5 ANYON3 3L53 3XCIT3D FOR ROAR (thor) TH3 DARK WORLD? I H3ARD LOKITTY WUZ GONNA B IN IT!!!! HYP3!!! ANYWAY5 IF ANY1 HA5 ANY 5UGG3STION5 FOR HOW I SHOULD D3AL WITH THI5, L3MM3 KNOW!!!! LUV U TOMCAT HIDDLESTON!!!! <3 <3 <3”
Upon hitting send, her inbox was immediately flooded with messages from her various fans, all immediately offering her support and condolences. She was quite the popular blogger, with thousands of followers from her various low-quality photos that still couldn’t hide her captivating beauty. But she didn’t want their sympathy, she wanted their money! If she could make it seem like her donations were from some sort of job, her mom would finally get off of her butt about it!
Unfortunately, her top money whales had already given her all of their income to provide her the clothes necessary to achieve a look that would finally make her Not Like The Other Girls!™
“You guys are all so frikin’ useless!” she lamented at the screen, before slouching back in her chair and letting out a groan of agony, finished off with a “bleh” of her tongue.
But right as Ashleigh looked up to the heavens to complain, the most insane coincidence ever occurred at the exact same time.
Zoë was a bored Goddess. She had seen everything, done everything, lived her endless existence as the one and only omnipotent being over all to its fullest. Now, she wanted something new. She didn’t want to be a conqueror, or a benevolent ruler. She just wanted to create tension in someone’s life, bless them with a responsibility beyond what they thought to be capable of. Could one blame her? Living vicariously through someone else’s existence was euphoria on a level never before seen. The idea that she could turn her brain off and watch someone else grapple with a newfound existence of godhood through something so seemingly insignificant? That was tragedy and bathos she could get behind!
Unfortunately, her first two attempts had petered out rather unimpressively. While she had attempted to prevent bias in her selection by having one of her randomly-generated Goddess algorithms select a partner for her that did not discriminate between race, gender, planet or even time period, they had both produced subpar results.
One man didn’t understand that a literal Goddess arriving in their living room didn’t mean all she wanted was intercourse she’d already experienced a million times before. He was kind and loving, but just used his gifts to shower her with praise and love. The other failed to do anything interesting with his abilities even as he used them for conquest, becoming a boring tyrant who just ruled over everyone and had a fetish for exerting complete domination over women. What were the odds that two male-coded beings of completely different planetary and evolutionary origins would both fail to live up to her expectations and devolve into lame, patriarchal desires?
But now, Zoë was sure things would be different. After all, her compatible random generation algorithm finally paired her with a female-identifying being from the Earthly rotation recognized by humans as “2025 A.D.” Finally, a shakeup!
Just as Ashleigh bemoaned her unfair existence, Zoë’s pop-up ad appeared on her screen.
“Want a Goddess to bless you with omnipotence? Just click here!”
“Erm, what teh Narwhal?” The Tumblr girl remarked, having never seen a pop up so big, so bright or so blue in her entire life. She had always been warned about the dangers of malicious malware that usually took the form of trickery such as this—but did anyone really expect Ashleigh to follow helpful advice? “Oooh! Dat blue is teh same color as my streak! It totally gets me!”
Zoë smiled. This was the perfect rube for the job. Once Ashleigh quadruple-clicked the pop-up, her entire computer shut down briefly, only to reopen with added flair as Zoë popped out of the screen like it was a genie lamp of the modern age. Adorned in her best approximation of what Ashleigh would recognize as ‘normal,’ she radically redefined her attire. The flowing robes were ditched for more casual hot topic wear. She didn’t have a particular design in mind that she wished to emulate, but she picked a couple of designs from Pinterest and hoped for the best, her large breasts swelling up the face of GIR’s puppy disguise from Invader Zim.
To her credit, Ashleigh took the sudden appearance of an undeniable Goddess rather well. She didn’t even yelp in surprise, merely staring at her unusual guest with eyes full of awe.
Zoë deserved some credit as well. Were she not a Goddess with a capital G, she would’ve been easily overstimulated in a room like Ashleigh’s. Posters littered the walls. Merch of various webcomics, cartoons and YA novels decorated every single nook and cranny of the tables and shelves. Somehow, Ashleigh was a 90’s, 2000’s and 2010’s kid all wrapped into one, well, terminally online Tumblr twenty-something. She knew that her algorithm could never make a mistake and would only pair her with compelling individuals, but now Zoë was wondering if it had somehow made a grave miscalculation.
“OMG! O. M. G! That Danganronpa cosplay of yours is so awesomesauce! I’ve never actually played the game I know, so embarrassing, I know it’s totally a yaoi game and I kin Komeda anyways, but you’re totally beautiful! So not like other girls! Those thigh highs are definitely Hot Topic! Eeee! And the skirt! I’d recognize that MLP/MCR fanfic cross-colorization anywhere! Doggirls are probably my favorite but Godgirls? ROLF! I didn’t even think of those! Brilliant! Frickin genius!”
Apparently, Zoë had nailed the outfit so well she was pulling off fits that she wasn’t even shooting for. These would’ve been hollow compliments from an inauthentic person—they should’ve been—but for some reason Zoë felt butterflies in her stomach fluttering from the rambling rave of her new patron. She was the one bestowing powers here, what was happening?
“A-ahem, anyways… good ma’am! You have clicked upon my noble advertisement and I have arrived to bless you with powers beyond your comprehension!” Zoë spoke, her voice echoing through the air with a grandiosity befitting a Goddess of her status. She awaited a moment of wondrous disbelief to befall Ashleigh, it was one of her favorite pieces of dramatic irony. Watching someone get excited for unlimited powers only for them to realize what a monkey’s paw of a situation they had fallen into.
“Yay! I can haz cheezeburger!” was all Ashleigh responded with.
Zoë nearly came on the spot.
The Goddess was hypnotized, transfixed. She couldn’t help herself as she hopped onto her newest patron, no methodology to her movements as she acted erratically, her overstimulated brain unfamiliar with these feelings of pleasure. She found her thoughts compiling themselves in the form of a bar graph, her overexcited mind so eager to make it a reality that she quickly repurposed a nearby universe into one. All of its nuances, elements, atomic structures—reduced to two pillars of “she’s cringe” and “god she’s so fucking hot,” and the latter had an astronomical 90-light-year lead. Zoë couldn’t believe that she was falling head-over-heels for such a fucking loser, but her body didn’t care, cuddling up to her terminally-online patron as if she would die of hypothermia otherwise.
“Unf, f-fuck, you’re so hot. Cuddle with me now, please!” Zoë begged, her eyes becoming wet and wild as they reached a level of cuteness not thought possible. She found herself suddenly eager to hump and grind against Ashleigh, a thought that had never occurred to her before, well, ever. She had been alive longer than human words could accurately describe. To simply convey her existence would require knowledge of a whole new set of concepts inconceivable to the human mind. Sure, it had only been comparatively recently since Zoë had discovered what could make her happy in life, but this was another level entirely!
“Sure, derp!” Ashleigh replied goofily, not exactly taking the situation seriously as she grew a dopey smile and stuck her tongue out. With a hum to the tune of a Disney’s Hercules song, she awkwardly returned the embrace, though she seemed to have no clue what it meant to hug a person, much less cuddle with them.
Only Zoë responded to this backpedal with a step forwards, eager to nonverbally communicate her intentions. The Tumblr girl raised a confused eyebrow, one that would’ve gone unnoticed by her hair covering were it not for her new pet’s godlike status.
“Oh my God, I-I mean, oh my me! Please! L-let me fuck you! I don’t know what’s come over me, I-I need this! I’ve never felt this about anything else ever! Hnnng!”
At first, Ashleigh seemed unimpressed by the offer. Usually, Zoë’s patrons were the ones slobbering over her! But after the blue-streaked beaut mulled it over in her head a bit, she was game. “Alright, yeah, let’s heckin do this! After all, I’m gonna need some practice for all the epic yaoi sexors I’ll be able to do once I have teh epic powers!”
Each syllable of her patron’s thirty-word verbal confirmation felt agonizingly longer than the last as she patiently waited for Ashleigh to finish whatever useless semantic words that followed “alright, yeah.”
After an eternity of waiting, the sentence finally ended, only for Ashleigh to find all the pretenses and potential foreplay skipped in an instant. Her head hadn’t even sunken into the pillow by the time Zoë’s body was atop her, grinding her soaked snatch against Ashleigh’s own. Even though Zoë was greatly holding back, her powerful, puffy pussy still effortlessly shredded her new muse’s favorite skirt, pressing up against Ashleigh’s pretty pink pussy with the heat of a thousand suns.
And yet, Ashleigh was somewhat unimpressed.
“Really? This is bottoming in sex? This is nothing like the untranslated mangas and Fanfic.net stories I’ve read! Ugh, not epic! Screw this, I’m taking over!”
Ashleigh took control as promised, flipping Zoë over on the bed with surprising strength considering the Goddess hadn’t granted her any powers yet, both of their bodies doing a 180-degree turn as the Goddess Above All was reduced to the bottom of the two. Zoë felt as though could’ve easily stopped the Tumblr girl if she wanted to, spreading this overconfident human’s atoms across the universe in Planck seconds, but her mind denied it. Ashleigh was simply too fucking hot.
Zoë didn’t even care for sex and this was the most intense session she had ever experienced in her infinite existence. If she had a soul, it would have left her body fast enough to explode every EMF detector in the infinite multiverse.
And yet, the actual quality of the sex left much to be desired. Ashleigh seemed to be following a rhythm only she could hear—and an experimental jazz one at that. She was all over the place, unable to stick to something that Zoë could really lock in on. But it didn’t matter. The goddess had never experienced anything close to the euphoria that was Ashleigh.
It didn’t take long for Zoë to reach an orgasm after that, spilling a liter of Goddesscum all over Tumblr girl’s sheets, which ultimately made them smell better, as they hadn’t been washed in some time and reeked of expired Nutella.
Despite making one of the literal most powerful beings experience the single greatest orgasm in her life, Ashleigh was, still, rather unimpressed. If anything, she was confused. “Ugh, so what? Did I have to prove that I am teh epicest at the sexors before you’d give me awesomesauce powers?”
“Y-you’ve more than proven your worthiness!” Zoë claimed without a hint of sarcasm or deception in her voice. She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, and the Goddess almost sobered up when she briefly glanced away from Ashleigh, but as soon as her traitorous nose caught a whiff of the purple haired girl’s unusual girlstink, she was hooked all over again. “Take it! Take all the power I’ve ever bestowed to anyone! It’s all yours! You deserve it!”
Out of the three ascensions Zoë had bestowed to mortals, Ashleigh once again proved to be an unconventional outlier. Both of the prior men were brought to daisy chains of overwhelming orgasms, their refractory periods ignored as they emptied their balls to the feeling of overwhelming power coursing through every inch of their veins. Ashleigh on the other hand… didn’t react at all. There was a blip of light indicating that she had been granted nigh-omnipotent powers, but it was gone as soon as it had arrived and the Superwholock savant was left wondering if she had even been bestowed with anything at all.
After all, the power was limitless creativity and raw pleasure, two things that Ashleigh didn’t exactly care much about in the grand scheme of things. She just wanted to watch her CW shows, watch Marvel movies, and watch boys kiss. The order in which those happened was not as important.
“Wowzors, I feel like…” she began, her voice swelling with melodious feelings, only for her face to fall into a disappointed frown. “…A potato.” Her voice was back to being flat and unimpressed.
“W-w-um…” Zoë sputtered, her all-powerful brain fighting for coherence as Ashleigh continued to baffle her in ways it somehow couldn’t imagine. “P-perhaps you need a tutorial on how this whole situation works. You now have a lot of power. Like, a lot a lot of power. And with it, you can do whatever you want.”
Halfway through the explanation, Ashleigh had already grown bored, returning to her computer. Zoë would’ve been upset if she weren’t already reconsidering everything about the nature of power dynamics every time any of her senses were blessed with Ashleigh’s perfection.
“Look! Just desire something and it’ll happen!” Zoë whined, growing fed up with Ashleigh’s incompetence but being too spellbound by Ashleigh’s beauty to do much about it beyond complaining.
“Hehehe if that’s true then imma le troll one of my Tumblr followers by bringing him right to me IRLz to see why he haz no moneys!”
Zoë raised a curious eyebrow, internally wondering why Ashleigh didn’t just wish for money instead of wishing to harass someone she didn’t know for said money. But it wasn’t the Goddess’ place to question what her latest experiment did with the powers bestowed upon her.
A man roughly fifteen years older than Ashleigh suddenly found himself warped into her room, rather literally caught with his pants down. Zoë knew immediately that he had been jacking off to pictures of Ashleigh, and now that he was in front of the real deal with her skirt shredded, he couldn’t help himself, immediately spilling his seed like a geyser. Ashleigh looked down with disgust at the watery spunk streaking across her sneakers.
“Grr, Y U no le fap on your own time! You deserve to be Forever Alone!”
“Wh-Ashleigh!? Where am I?” The man asked, post-nut clarity giving him a brief reprieve from the assault on the senses that was Ashleigh’s body.
“Let me make this simple for you, le idiot. Make like Slenderman and give me twenty dollars!”
That did not make it more simple for him, but he figured it out anyway.
“I-I don’t have any more money! I already gave you all of my disposable income! Don’t you know we’re in a recession!?”
Ashleigh turned her head up in disappointment like a snooty patron at dinnertime. “I don’t care if the Narwhal stops baconing at midnight! I want teh moneyz and I want it now!”
She didn’t even need to mention her newly-acquired godlike powers for the man to fold, with him immediately thinking up a solution. “W-well I could pull some funds out of my 401k to give you some—“
“Whatevorz, I just want it now, or by the power of the great almighty Chuck Norris, I will see you slain!”
Ashleigh’s unconscious powers activated again, literally ripping money out of the man’s retirement fund and morphing it into cold, hard cash. A singular twenty dollar bill was dispensed from the ether, floating gracefully down from the sky like a feather before landing in Ashleigh’s palm.
“There we go! Was that so hard? Now get out of here in the next ten seconds before I put an arrow in your knee!”
Unfortunately, the man spent five of those ten seconds trying to process what had just happened in the last ten seconds, so by the time he was running out the door of Ashleigh’s room, ten seconds was already up. An arrow was summoned right next to the purple haired girl, hovering in the air for a few moments before zipping forward as if it had been spontaneously propelled by an invisible bow. The man had already turned several corners, effectively putting himself out of the arrow’s trajectory, but the primitive ammunition refused to give up so easily. As soon as it left the door, it made a hard 90 degree left in midair and continued to follow him, desperate to strike according to Ashleigh’s specifications.
The man frantically ran outside, only to realize that he wasn’t even in his own state. He didn’t have a phone or ID on him, as he had put them both down on a nearby table so he could get more comfortable while he was beating off to pictures of Ashleigh. Still, he didn’t doubt the legitimacy of Ashleigh’s threat if she could somehow teleport people to her whims. He continued to aimlessly run down the suburban streets, screaming like a madman and disrupting the peace, as it were. The local HOA didn’t like that one bit.
He was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion when the cops arrived to detain him, shouting at them to get away from him so the arrow wouldn’t get him. Regardless, he was tackled to the ground, and as soon as the officer brought him up into a standing position, the arrow pierced right through his knee, lodging itself in the cop’s ankle behind him. The cops spent so long afterwards attempting to track down the culprit who had fired the arrow they neglected to attend to the exhausted, handcuffed man in their possession who was actively bleeding out on the sidewalk from a major artery being punctured. By the time he was brought to the hospital, they couldn’t revive him.
Zoë watched this all unfold, giving Ashleigh a chance to witness the consequences, but Ashleigh didn’t really care. Her attention kept waning back to the crisp $20 bill in her hand, imagining all the anime DVD boxsets she could buy with that. Zoë decided to employ a bit of mind-reading to keep Ashleigh on track.
“Y’know, Ashleigh, there’s been a lot of inflation since 2012. Twenty can’t get you that much these days in the realm of memorabilia.”
Ashleigh didn’t really pay attention to what Zoë was saying until she checked eBay for prices, her jaw dropping as she saw what the Goddess meant.
“What teh frick!? Why does Serial Experiments: Lain cost so much!? It only came out a few years ago!?”
Zoë wasn’t even sure where Ashleigh was pulling that metric from.
“None of this stuff should cost more than a dollar!”
Every vendor at every convention around the world would find themselves going bankrupt within a month. At least Ashleigh was happy, her toothy grin reaching both of her freckled cheeks, watching as everything on eBay became super affordable right before her eyes.
“See? And that’s just a few things you could do with the power l’ve bestowed you with!” Zoë exclaimed cheerfully, wanting nothing more for this beautiful girl to be happy with her life, and be appreciative of the wonderful gift the Goddess had given her—mostly so Zoë could gauge if Ashleigh actually liked her back. “What do you think about it?”
It took Ashleigh a second to respond, as she was busy reblogging a GIFset on her phone before giving her full attention to the Goddess. “Lol, Zoë is teh best! So much more epic than my FAIL mother!”
Zoë came again. Then again. Then a third time for good measure. She didn’t even have a praise kink until Ashleigh’s perfect voice complimented her. Her wobbly knees gave in and she collapsed on her face, her prodigious bosom cushioning her fall with a brief bounce. The Goddess didn’t let her lack of mobility hinder her one bit, using her arms to drag herself to Ashleigh’s sneaker, nuzzling up against the rubber even at the cost of smearing the cum of Ashleigh’s arrow-to-the-knee’d patron all over her cheek.
“Oh Ashleigh, please! Fuck me again! Every picosecond since we last did it has been more agonizing than the last!” Zoë bemoaned, as if the immortal Goddess needed it to live. Ashleigh, however, was not so enthusiastic.
“Ughhhh, so loud and annoying! Epic fail!” Ashleigh bemoaned with an eyeroll, shaking her sneaker to get Zoë off of her. However, the Goddess was still living off the high of being told she was “teh best” from Ashleigh and so she held on to the violet haired girl’s leg as if her infinite life depended on it. She needed more approval from Ashleigh, and about thirty minutes prior she didn’t even know it was something she could want.
“That’s it, I’m putting this doge on a leash so she’ll behavez!” Ashleigh declared, and Zoë suddenly found her neck collared. This feeling of resistance was new to the Goddess, nothing had actually imprisoned her before this. For a moment, she had forgotten why, only to recall that usually she made sure that whoever she bestowed nigh-unlimited power to could not proceed to turn that power against her for any reason. The dynamic she liked to achieve was more “understudy” than “usurper.”
So what the hell had just happened?
She tried her hardest to remove the collar that bound her, but what appeared to be simple metal and fabric refused to budge an inch. She tried to revoke Ashleigh’s powers. Nothing. She tried to rewind time to before she had granted Ashleigh the powers. Nothing. She tried to travel forward in time until the universe inevitably reset, only to find herself right back where she started in the old universe. Had she accidentally given Ashleigh more power than she was supposed to? She had gotten a bit addicted to the Tumblrina, after all.
“Hey! Hey! Let me go!” Zoë demanded, sobering up quickly from her drunken love. She couldn’t believe she was actually asking for something instead of just doing it. It felt foreign in a way that shook her to her core.
“No.” Ashleigh said with a deeper voice, doing her best impression of a particular Hotel Mario cutscene. “I’m making you a cute little doge until you learn to behaves!”
Zoë tried everything in her power to escape, but as long as the collar remained, she effectively had all the power of a doge. Not even the more modern interpretation of the meme, either. At least she could make funny rainbow comic sans text appear around her whenever she desired.
“So Wow! Le Oh No! Much bondage! Such mortality!” Zoë spoke, and while it somewhat resembled what she wished to say, it was not how she wished to vocalize it.
“Heehee! Much better! Le doge is so awesomesauce!” Ashleigh declared with a squee, before putting a perfect finger to her perfect chin. “Now, what was I going to do? Oh yeah! I was going to prove that my second favorite actor of all time, Josh Hutcherson, loves teh yaoi sexors just as much as I do!”
Then, she found herself warped to the set of the latest movie Josh was working on, immediately spotting who she believed to be him within a crowd and making a B-line towards the actor. The guards should’ve stopped her, but they were so spellbound by her beauty that they simply couldn’t move, forced to watch as she skipped merrily through a crowd of important staff, their bodies disintegrating on contact with her now-invincible skin. Once she wrapped her arms around the actor, she warped him back to her room with Ashleigh still hugging him tightly.
Unfortunately, the man she had captured was not Hunger Games star Josh Hutcherson as she had desired, but his stunt double. Of course, Ashleigh couldn’t tell the difference, and she wasn’t about to listen to any dissenting opinions about what she already believed to be fact, beyond a perfunctory “close enough” in impact font text after striking the appropriate pose.
“Oh Mr. Hutcherson! Mr. Hutcherson! Please be my yaoi husband! I’ll treat you sooooo much better than that slut Jennifer Lawrence!”
If the stunt double hadn’t been completely captivated by her alluring elegance, he might’ve mentioned that those two actors had never dated beyond the roles they preformed in the movies, or perhaps, more relevant to the situation, that he wasn’t the man she claimed him to be. Instead, he nodded profusely, willing to accept any proposal she threw her way.
“Yayzors! Wags my tail, XD!” She said in approval, a large, bushy brown husky dog tail suddenly popping out from above her rear, tenting her skirt. It proceeded to wag with all the ferocity of a jet engine, launching the two of them off of the bed and battering Zoë with an overwhelming amount of air. The tail didn’t disappear afterwards, mostly because Ashleigh immediately forgot about it as her scatterbrained sensibilities often did.
But as she nuzzled her soft face into his broad pecs, she began to get cold feet. What if she wasn’t, as it were, “teh best at the yaoi sexors?” What if her lack of experience would make Josh hate her and she’d never be able to change her name to ‘Ashleigh “InvaderZimFan2002” Wolfe-Hutcherson?’
She needed practice, and she needed it now.
“Alright, le Mr. Hutcherson, freeze for a bit, pwetty pwease? I need to, um…” she frantically eyed around the room, nervously touching the tips of her index fingers together to a quick tempo. Once she eyed her computer with Tumblr still open, she knew exactly what to say. “…return my stolen shoelaces to the president! Derp!” She punctuated her little vocal stim by crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out of the size of her mouth.
It didn’t matter what excuse she came up with, as every organ beneath his skin became engulfed in temperatures that reached the lowest Kelvin could offer, slowing his bodily functions down to zero.
“Hmm, now where would a le good training dummy be…” she pondered, rubbing her chin. Even with infinite power at her disposal, all of her ideas came from whatever item in her room jogged the most logical conclusion. Then her eyes fell on Zoë.
“Epic win! I’ll practice the sexorz on you!”
Immediately, that got the goddess’ hopes up. Even though Zoë was unquestionably experiencing the worst day of her infinite life, it could all be worth it if she got to have hot lesbian sex with the prettiest girl in the world. She didn’t even realize she was a lesbian until she had scissored Ashleigh earlier, but now she couldn’t imagine a man satisfying her in any way. She couldn’t even imagine finding a man attractive.
So it was all the more humiliating when Ashleigh decided that she would become the “Josh” in this to practice, as senseless of a choice as that would be.
“Alrighty, time for a yaoi makeover! Heheheh, I’m such a fujoshi!”
She raised her hand as if reaching for something, a piece of UI from the Sims appearing just above her head, complete with several sliders which she modified accordingly with expert finesse. She didn’t even need her new, amazing powers to optimize her speed in the character creator, she had simply played so much of the Sims that she knew exactly where everything was and which parts modified what. In no time at all, she was a perfect replica of Josh Hutcherson’s stunt double, minus the tail she still forgot about.
“Hmm, now time to use le phone for… research purposes. Lolololol.”
However, as Ashleigh checked her phone, she noticed that there was a text from her mother on it from about an hour ago. Her tail fell in tandem with her face as she scanned the words on the screen.
How’s the job search going, sweetie?
“Ugh, mom gets on my frickin' nerves, she should just shut up for forever and even infinity!”
And then her mother, in the middle of a surgery that she was performing on a patient, suddenly found herself unable to speak. It was as if there was a barrier in her mind that simply prevented her from expressing the words she wished to say. In the coming days, she would attempt to learn sign language to counteract this sudden ailment, only to find that this strange stoppage also applied to her hands. Her motor functions were impeccable up to that point, her job as a surgeon required them to be, but the second she attempted to express the words she wished through hand motions, they simply wouldn’t execute.
Growing desperate, she would attempt to write or even type words to communicate, but those would prove an impossibility as well. Her fingers simply wouldn’t let her approach the keys with what she desired to type and physically averted themselves from writing utensils of any kind. Bashing her head against the wall also proved fruitless once her intention became creating a letter with cracked plaster and her own blood.
After days turned to weeks, her mother would cave to the insanity and attempt to take her own life. Since newspapers and other articles would definitely generate buzz about a renowned surgeon suddenly driving herself to death, she wouldn't be allowed to die lest it make her intentions to express herself be seen by the world.
She would become a ghost to the world, unable to leave her house due to how her disheveled appearance would attract attention and potentially reveal clues to her existence she might wish to express. The world would ignore the existence of this house—out of sight, out of mind.
Eventually, the sun would die out and the world would end, yet her singular room with her inside it would remain. Then still, she wouldn’t be able to communicate since gods and alien civilizations still existed and would have the potential to understand her and “forever” wasn’t over yet.
Through sheer inevitability, a future Goddess’ advanced algorithm would eventually pair the similarly-bored being of higher power with Ashleigh’s mother, though this would not last long. The Goddess would approach her, only to give up within seconds upon finding that the mother was quite the uninteresting patron to receive her gifts.
And so the endless march of subjective time would continue, though Ashleigh’s mom would experience none of it having been trapped in a Shrödinger’s box of a room, uncertain to the outcome of infinity yet forced to experience all of it.
But enough of that. Ashleigh’s mother’s experience of the rest of the future was not the focus Ashleigh wished to dwell on. She had yaoi to research, damnit!
Zoë watched as the one person who had power over her went on a social media binge, consuming a rabbit hole of extremely dangerous and inaccurate boy x boy action. The inevitable was briefly halted when Ashleigh attempted to use Tumblr to search for porn, once again forgetting that this was not 2012 and that the site had banned explicit imagery seven years ago. But eventually, after some arbitrary amount of content had been studied, Ashleigh determined that she, now he, was ready to take this to the next base. For research purposes, of course.
Ashleigh tackled the doge-inflicted goddess, tearing off the outfit that Zoë had personally selected to appeal to the terminally online girl. He pulled down his pants, revealing a cock that was definitely proportioned with exaggerated erotic art in mind than anything resembling real life. The trunk of a cock instantly hypnotized the Goddess, at least on the outside. Internally, Zoë was fighting back with every ascended atom in her body. But her will was crumbling, as she was being not only smothered by an emotional layer of doge, but now an emotional layer of a poorly written hentai character on top of that.
“Oh daddy, it looks so big, so hot! I need it! Give it to me, please!” Zoë said, finally breaking the “speaking like an early internet meme” curse only to utter some drivel that a poorly-translated manga would contain within its white bubbles. Sure, Ashleigh was still hot—albeit to a separate demographic—but not change-your-entire-sexuality-on-sight levels of attractive that she had been before. Zoë could attest to that fact personally, even if her words were once again betraying her desires.
Zoë’s body leaned forward and closed her eyes without her input. She pressed her lips to his moist tip, her body shaking convulsively as she did it. She wanted to resist. She had to. To salvage the revelation that brought her true happiness in this world. Not putting people through taunting trials where they learned some lesson about power and responsibility or whatever bullshit reason she gave to justify her mild amusement from the action, but a beautiful girl who would compliment her and let her know that everything she was doing was for a noble reason.
She couldn’t.
She felt her own hot breath reflect off of Ashleigh’s length, his cock seemingly thicker up close like some sort of optical illusion—or more accurately a reflection of the poor proportions often found in the low quality yaoi manga Ashleigh read. She ran a trembling tongue up the monolithic cock’s length, an undulating moan that she hated every second of as it echoed from the depths of her lungs.
Ashleigh scooped his glorified test dummy up into the air with a single hand, freeing Zoë from the suffocating musk of her master’s cock for but a moment like a diver coming up for air. The moment passed, and the goddess found her insides invaded by a throbbing length which seemed even larger than the one she had just pressed up against her face. Ashleigh didn’t seem to derive much pleasure of his own from the act, simply observing like a scientist would to a captive animal.
Zoë’s once-infinite mind found itself pushed to the limit, the only words escaping her lips being some variation of doge-like whimpers and yaoi-like onomatopoeias. The goddess went cross-eyed as Ashleigh came inside of her, his cumshot igniting her insides like a rocket as a torrent of seed erupted from her netherregions. Her slick thighs were drenched, and her outfit was in ruins from how callously Ashleigh had used her. This should have been amazing, anyone else would’ve suffered on the cross just for a taste of even Ashleigh’s gender-swapped parts, but Zoë’s sensibilities had already been recrafted and her brain kept screaming at her about how much she hated this.
Then, it seemed for a brief, beautiful second that Zoë would actually get exactly what she wanted. Ashleigh undid all of her manly modifications, returning to how she was before tweaking her body settings like a video game. “Hrrm, I don’t thinkz that what I did there was sufficient enough to count as teh yaoi I was looking for… maybe I’ll have to try another approach, derp!”
Zoë found her body forcefully and painfully morphing into the very entity she had just been fucked by, like some sort of bizarro mirror image, with Ashleigh merrily tapping away at various sliders and buttons around the goddess’ body. In mere minutes, Zoë as she knew herself was no more. He was a boytoy for Ashleigh. His very own stunt double of a stunt double.
“HeheheHEHEheHehe,” Ashleigh laughed discordantly, but it ultimately just gave Zoë a fetish for off-kilter laughs. “Now all your cock are belong to me!” She added, trying really hard to make a play on words for a phrase that hadn’t been uttered in over a decade. However, Zoë couldn’t help but go erect at the sound of it, his cock tenting his pants. Ashleigh was just so painfully attractive that she was redefining something as rooted as the cultural values of one’s mind.
The tent in Zoë’s pants was torn from its supports like it was pitched in a hurricane, Ashleigh’s superior strength making quick work of the duplicated fabric. She lunged at Zoë like a feral animal, trying to replicate the motions she had observed from Zoë’s earlier work as the receiver.
“P-please stop!” The double stunt double begged as Ashleigh rode him without recourse. “You pwn too hard! Your pussy is too epic! Your Yaoi skills, over 9000... it’s like being 360 no scoped with every thrust!” He couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth and yet, his mind was so rotted that he couldn’t help but spew the same drivel Ashleigh lived by.
Now that Ashleigh wasn’t just aimlessly thrashing around and actually made an attempt to follow some sort of rhythm, her sex was a league of its own beyond the already impossible standard she had set earlier in the day when she was still a kissless virgin with no sexual experience—also she had acquired omnipotence since then as well. Worth a mention. Zoë didn’t last much longer after that, unleashing an orgasm that, while substantial, was pitiful compared to the output of Ashleigh’s boy-counterpart.
With the sexorz complete, and Ashleigh left a sweaty, panting mess, she was finally starting to believe that she understood the hype. But even with everything below her waist thoroughly bukkake’d by a torrent of exaggerated Yaoi spunk, she still found the time to fish around the bed for her phone, producing it from a puddle of the stuff and returning to her daily routine of browsing her phone. This time, she checked her email, hoping that she’d get a PayPal notification from one of her many dedicated simps—and hopefully it was more than twenty dollars this time!
To her dismay, the only thing waiting for her in her inbox was not money, or fans slobbering over her—which led to money. Instead, all that excitement just led to another boring, bland, by-the-numbers email from her college advisor. Wouldn’t this guy just take the hint already? She didn’t want to deal with him, but he just kept sending her emails reminding her to sign up for classes she didn’t care about, all because her stupid mom put her on the email list and Ashleigh had no clue how to take herself off of it.
That was, until, she thought of a genius plan to deal with the human fly buzzing around her head once and for all. “I know what I need to do! I’m gonna totally cursorz that frikin’ idiot with a chain letter email!”
Ashleigh chuckled deviously as she wiggled her fingers before her computer keyboard, the ruminations of a particularly devilish electronic message idea dancing in her head. She typed out a stream-of-consciousness text wall that vaguely resembled a coherent thought.
I’m a woman who drowned. I have no eyes and blood all over my face. I am dead. If u don’t send this to at least 12 people I will come to ur house at midnight and I’ll hide under ur bed. When ur asleep, I’ll kill u. If u only send this to 6 people I will kill u the next day!!!! Do nothing, ur gonna rot to death slowly! Then I kill u!
To really sell this as legitimate, she included definitely real testimonies of prior experiences with said email.
Incident 1: Mah name is professor Frankfurt and I wuz a big time smarty but also a big time dummy!!!! Because I ignored this email!!! Don’t make the same mistake as me!!!
Incident 2: I was a little baby and I got this email and it killed me! Do not ignore!!!!!
Ashleigh’s smile reached ear to ear as she read over her masterpiece once more, savoring the brilliance of every word put to the digital screen. She rubbed her creamy smooth hands together. It was perfect. Immaculate even.
The chain letter, imbued with the closest approximation to a genuine curse as one could experience, would quickly spread through the Americas, Europe and Australia as people soon realized that this chain email was not a fabrication. At first, her attempt at psychological warfare was met with indifference at best and a light exhale from one’s nose at worst. Everyone still in tune with reality was well aware of chain-letter emails, they had all but died out in the mid-2000s when internet etiquette actually improved for once. This left the populace woefully unequipped to deal with the deadly cognitohazard, as English was a Lingua Franca for the modern world. By the time people realized they were cursed, their flesh literally rotting off of their bones, and desperately sent it to twelve other people hoping they would be spared, it was already too late. The curse simply spread further as a result, and all it took was a few bilingual people to translate it and send it to others for the ailment to hit the globe.
Ashleigh wasn’t even aware that she had just sent the first legitimate one. As far as she was knew, every chain letter email she had ever received prior was real and so she had forwarded it along appropriately, much to the annoyance of her extended family and small pool of friends. But who needed friends when Ashleigh had the real deal Josh Hutcherson all to herself?
“Anywhore, lolz, where was I? Oh right! I guess I don’t need two Joshs, so I’ll just get rid of one. There can be only one! Lololol. Hmm, now which one was the original?”
The frozen stunt double couldn’t exactly vouch for himself, so Zoë spoke in his place, seizing the opportunity.
“Oh, it’s me! D-definitely me!”
“Ah, epic stylez, I was meaning to get rid of that annoying doge! Firin’ mah lazer style!”
She opened her mouth and unleashed a beam of blue energy, one which completely vaporized the original stunt double until nothing but a tiny pile of ash remained where he once was.
The genderswapped goddess’ heart sank to the pits of the hell one of his prior clients had created as his eyes, wide as dinner plates, stared at the limited remains of the man he had just played off as himself. Zoë cared about Ashleigh, but Ashleigh didn’t give a shit about Zoë. If he wasn’t a perfect duplicate of Josh’s Hutcherson’s less-than-perfect duplicate, and Ashleigh was a little less forgetful, he’d be the one left as a black stain on the floor.
That sobered him up quickly. He needed to get out of here.
“Um, hey, uh… Ashleigh?” Zoë asked, trying a little too hard to sound hunky, even if Ashleigh couldn’t tell the difference either way. “Could I… get a drink from the fridge in the kitchen?”
“Sure! Derp! Get me one, too!” Ashleigh remarked, not looking up from her phone. “Oh, but put some prisoner’s chains on so you don’t try to escape teh future sexorz, heheheheHEheHEhe.”
The goddess grunted in pain as his wrists and ankles were clamped by tough metal and bound together by short chains that offered limited range of movement. Zoë was already missing the doge collar.
Still, in reality’s haste to best interpret Ashleigh’s wishes, it ended up fitting Zoë with chains that weren’t tied to any external lock, so Zoë could still leave if he really wanted to, he’d just have to move like a grandpa to do so.
That didn’t discourage his resolve one bit.
Zoë booked it, running as fast as his chained legs could take him, the lengthy expanse of the hall seeming to get longer and longer with each staggered step like some sort of optical illusion. Still, the Goddess refused to give up. As long as he kept his wits about him and remembered that this would all be just a blip in his vast, collective history of existence, he continued to push forward. The nightmare would be over soon. He’d just have to find a way to recreate Ashleigh without all the callousness and selfish disregard for anything that wasn’t his own interests.
The skin around his legs was red and raw as his half-opened eyes finally caught a glimpse of the exit, the door of the house. He’d never known sleep, hunger, pain or misery until now, but he would make sure it was the last time he’d feel any of that. His trembling hand gripped the handle, smiling as he braced himself for freedom.
But the door opened to just more wall behind it.
“Nooooope! It’s just Chuck Testa!” Ashleigh exclaimed with glee, phasing through a nearby wall as if Zoë had been caught on a prank show of sorts. “Lolz, I was waiting for someone to fall for the fake taxidermy exit door trick, but I didn’t think it would be you of all people, Josh!”
Zoë froze, despair etched on every inch of his face.
Then, Ashleigh looked at Zoë as if the gears in her head were finally turning for once in her life.
“Waaaaaait a minute, why were you trying to walk through my Chuck-Testa-with-another-realistic-mount fake exit?”
Somehow, Zoë was not totally screwed. Even he didn’t believe it.
“Ummm, because as any true Josh Hutcherson fan would know, I… uh… only drink a very specific brand of soda. Uh, and so I was going to the store to get it. Then I was fooled by your, um, epic troll.”
“Aw, philosoraptors!!! Such an epic fail!” Her face did its best impression of Forever Alone. “I completely forgot your favorite drink!”
Then, much to the dismay of Zoë, the cogs in Ashleigh’s head turned again. “Wait, that’s right! I was just granted le epic nyan cat powers by that one genie girl! I could totally just wish for whatever soda I’d like.”
Then, as if putting it through the lens of helping a celebrity she had a crush on had actually helped her conceptualize it, she had other ideas of what to do with her powers.
“Like, why the frick can I not talk like I do on Tumblr all the time? I think that would be a le epic troll for all teh normies who get their memes from 9gag.”
The deed was done. No matter how incomprehensible it appeared to be outside of text-based recollections of her endeavors.
“PURRF3CT! LOLZ! T3H POW3R I5 FLOWIN THRU M3!” she spoke, her voice louder not because she was shouting, but as if reality had somehow turned the volume up on her voice like a speaker.
No matter how abstract or strange, all of Ashleigh’s desires came true. She reshaped the world to her liking, but was rather lacking in creativity so many of the continents she forgot the names of were spared from her remodeling. All the while, Zoë was helpless to escape, forced to watch as his first and last patron bent reality to her limited whims.
~
“Ma’am, the unidentified anomalous phenomena has not left the upper atmosphere in over 72 hours. What should be our course of action?” Asked the frightened radar technician, frantically reporting what he saw, the only change between that and his last report being the hour count.
“We wait,” replied the stalwart general, same as always. “Until we know what sort of extraterrestrial force we’re dealing with here, I don’t want to play our hand too early.”
“General, um, with all due respect, the longer we wait… well… the longer we give our enemy information. I-I have two lovely children who survived the chain letter outbreak of ’45. The last thing I want is to risk subjecting them to an ever greater threat. I just want them to live normal lives.”
“Quiet, subordinate!” The general shouted, her bass-rich voice echoing throughout the underground complex, providing a brief reprieve from the discordant beeps and boops of the older-era technology. “We’ve got once chance to see if our trump card will work here. Hutz, you said that life forms were identified within the aircraft?”
“Yes, general,” he responded. “There are about five trillion individual entities, a number that far outpaces our metrics by a factor of thousands, though they appear to have similar circulatory systems to us.”
“I’m banking on them having a lot more in common than just that,” the general declared ominously. But before all the subordinates could consider a mutiny, the front of the massive ship opened up, only for a single entity to descend from the stratosphere, suspending itself in midair without any sort of supports. A bonafide alien, and it didn’t seem to be all too friendly.
Greetings, beings of Terra. You may call me Chamin. While your sapience has earned you a great deal of respect within our ranks, we’ve determined that the gross negligence of the planet you live on will eventually spell your downfall, and so we have determined that the most efficient use of your resources will be to extract them and exterminate this planet.
The simple yet effective monologue instantly beamed into the minds of everyone in the facility, and presumably everyone else in the world. Mass hysteria. That was what the alien wanted. Even with their superior numbers, all it took was one to potentially destabilize the fragile, grief-stricken minds of the vulnerable human populace.
But more importantly than all of that, Chamin was handsome. He really did look like a conventionally attractive actor in a live action adaptation of an anime. The general allowed the hint of a smirk to cross her face. This was exactly what she was banking on.
“Execute directive 209-1337-64M3R. It’s time.”
The subordinates were all confused. They simply didn’t have the clearance to understand the significance of those numbers. The general was there when they were put in place.
The technician punched in the code and the general scanned all five of her fingerprints and her eye. This was simply a weapon that could only be used in situations like this, lest the world fall into chaos like it had before.
Any attempts to counterattack are futile. Our spacecrafts are constructed from alloys stronger than anything present on your planet. Some of you will be spared for study, given that you have done well to preserve much of your history, and many of our leaders find your cultures fascinating. Consider this—
Before anyone could consider anything, however, Chamin detected a strange presence that stopped him in his tracks. His advanced psychokinesis detected a presence it couldn’t quite make sense of, and that was before he realized that the being approaching him was a literal goddess.
“OMG!!!!1! MEOW WE’RE TALKIN!!!! UR 5OOO CUT3! U lOOK JU5T LIK3 53BA5TIAN MICHA3L5 FROM T3H B35T AN1M3 3V3R, BLACK BUTL3R!”
She swept up the poor man, putting him in a midair soul-crushing hug. Chamin was one of the best translators the fleet had, and yet he could not make heads or tails of the real time leet speak that Ashleigh bombarded him with as she squeezed his rather malleable bones until they threatened to snap. Chamin fought back, summoning a psychic wave of energy that would obliterate most anything in his path, targeting the most vulnerable neurons in the brain. Ashleigh didn’t even need her bestowed powers to deal with it, her mind was simply so densely focused on kissing the cute anime boy in front of her that her brain simply couldn’t focus on anything else but kissing the cute anime boy in front of her.
Nngh! Get off of me! Chamin commanded, only for his thought-based order to go completely unnoticed by the single-minded goddess-above-gods. No matter how much his toned body squirmed, he couldn’t escape the trap of Tumblrina Titanium that was Ashleigh. She and he twirled in the air lackadaisically, a charming beginning to the one-sided romance blossoming between them. When the spinning of bodies ended, Ashleigh was facing away from the ship above them, but that only secured the fate of Chamin’s species.
Her tail continued to wag with greater and greater ferocity, destabilizing the thrusters keeping the Asia-sized mothership afloat. While the similarly psychokinetically-afflicted pilots of the spacecraft immediately assessed the threat and prepared a counterattack, that would ultimately be their downfall as Ashleigh would’ve ultimately ignored them otherwise.
A beam of energy powerful enough to destabilize atomic structures struck Ashleigh in the back. She didn’t appreciate how warm it was, especially on an already hot summer like this one.
“WHAT A BUNCH OF NOOB5!!! HOMOPHOBIC!!!!1 >:( MAKING M3 F33L ALL WARM & UNCOMFORTABL3!!! MY TOMOGROWLCHI5 WILL HAV3 2 WAIT! JU5T GO AWAY U F WORD5!!!”
They went away in a rather blunt sense, literally being pushed off in the opposite direction from Ashleigh. All their psychic energy couldn’t make a dent in their new divine route, which would eventually see them colliding with a star, cooking everyone within the ship like an oven. The representative speaker of their space faring species was now the sole remaining member. In an instant the alien invasion had been thwarted, all thanks to Ashleigh—whether or not she was aware of what she had just done.
“Excellent work, Ashleigh. He’s all yours,” the general said over comms, her grainy voice filtered through the Tumblr girl’s flip phone. Ideally, she would’ve wanted to take Chamin in for questioning or studying, but she knew better than to try and take something away from Ashleigh once the girl claimed it as her own.
“Yayzorz!!!”
The general took a confident inhale, puffing up her chest after a job well done, watching from the various satellite cameras as the purple-haired girl vanished back to whence she came. The room around the general erupted with cheers, with the exception of Hutz, who just had to let the first thought in his head be vocalized.
“Ma’am, I hate to say this… but she’s totally cringe.”
The renowned general turned to face her inferior.
“If I put you in a goddamn time capsule, calling someone ‘cringe’ in 2135 would probably seen as fucking weird too. Just roll with it, she’s literally unstoppable and does whatever we want as long as we drip-feed her anime and awful rage comics.”
And so Ashleigh returned to the satisfying life in her room, excited to bring home a new boytoy for her to perform more deranged fujoshi experiments on.
For Ashleigh, this was just another day.
For Zoë… well, at least Ashleigh would occasionally glance his way when she wanted a more personal look at Josh Hutcherson.
![カネコツ[kanesys] from fanbox](https://patrefans.com/kistorage/20926.jpg)
