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Sample copypasta I did per request for anonymous.

Under a raging storm, someone knocked on Motoko's door. She opened apprehensively, prepared for a fight. Standing on her door was Keitaro, dripping wet, after all this time. His eternal vacant smile was missing from his face; it was obvious something was wrong. "Motoko, it's been so long. May I come in?" He tried to fake a smile, but she could only see a sad simulacrum of better times. Trying not to stammer, to look too surprised, she let him in saying nothing.

After cleaning up and drying off he didn't look as bad, but his eyes, they seemed so dead. "Keitaro, can you please tell me what's wrong?" She asked, inching near him to be a supportive, comforting figure for him when he needed it the most, just as he was there for her all those years ago. "It was that obvious, huh?" He sighed, putting the cup of tea down in front of him. "Things were tough between Naru and me. At first we thought it was just inexperience and my natural clumsiness. I wish it was that simple. We just didn't connect; the communication problems were obvious, even when we were dating. In time, I started to favor longer expeditions, to go into the deepest corners of the world, somewhere where I could be away from her" He chuckled to himself. "Promises mean nothing after all" He let his head down, attempting to hide his tears from Motoko, but it was meaningless. She embraced him, nesting his head on her chest, as he continued to let his secrets out. "By the end we fought a lot, all the time. It wasn't innocent punches that threw me in the air anymore; it had degenerated into seriously trying to hurt me. 'Why can't you be more like him!?' she yelled all the time."



Motoko knew whom Naru meant with 'him'. "So, she never forgot Seta?" "Are you kidding? She married me only because I reminded her of him, promise or not. In the last weeks, all I've done is sit alone in my van, trying to figure out what went wrong, why did things turned out like this. I reviewed by life, only to find that my mistake was in never answering you" He lifted his head, drying the runaway tears. Motoko looked at him, seeing his rugged face, and remembered why she fell for him in the first place. "I never answered you because I was chained by that harpy, but I came to set things right and regain my life" His hands caressed her cheeks, they felt like the hands that had gone through so many rocks and ruins, but still could be gentle enough for a woman. "I love you Motoko, I've always loved you" She blushed furiously, as she got her lips closer to him. No words were needed anymore, all those years on longing and waiting could finally be released.



Dropping on his back, Motoko laid above Keitaro's body. Kissing him, trying to get lost time back, the passion was so strong in the air that it suffocated them. As if their lives depended on it, they started to rip each other clothes, exposing old scars and injuries, reminders of stranger times in Hinata. Their hands went through their bodies, exploring the places they had only dreamt off until that moment, confirming images they formed out of sneaked glimpses and awkward touches. Their tongues, fighting fiercely as they used to do in their morning practices, so distant now. How foolish had they been, not seeing the latent and restrained sexuality they expressed in attacks and slashes, each morning a fight to defeat their inner impulses. Now with only her underwear remaining, they gasped for air, staring into the other's eyes. Hesitant. Why does it feel so wrong? "What about Naru?" She asked, half regretting it already. "We're still married, but it means nothing" "I'm sorry then, I must set this right before continuing" She said, getting herself upright and dressing up again. "Rest now here, I'll be back in the morning, and don’t worry, we'll continue where we left off". Giving him one more soft kiss in his forehead, she prepared to go. Grabbing her katana, unused after all the time living in peace, she ran off into the night, her target certain.



She found her trashing the house that promises and dreams had built. "Naru, you bitch. We thought you could make him happy, but look at you know" Naru turned at the aggressor in her home. "Well, maybe if you hadn't been so much of a dyke you could have made something about it. But he's mine now, so get the fuck out of our home!" Motoko gripped the katana handle, preparing to unleash what she could have never brought herself to do, until now. It wasn't a fight, it was more of an execution. Naru's body laid in the ground, a clean cut where her head should be. Motoko threw away the now filthy blade, dirtied with the blood of a whore. She prepared to return to his love, now free, now hers.

Standing by the bedside, watching him sleep, she saw his careless smile return. He looked truly happy, with all his worries erased from this world. Crawling into the bed slowly as to not wake him, Motoko cuddled next to her only man. She started to doze off, thinking of all the things they would do once they woke up. Leaning her released breasts against his back, she hugged him tighter. "Keitaro, I'm home"



Motoko sighed. Another wasted effort. She stared at the laptop screen, looking back at the fiction she had crafted for her and Keitaro to live in. Lying naked in her bed, she passed one hand throughout her curves, barely touching with her fingertips, the idyllic image of Keitaro still vivid in her head. Her leg twitched almost imperceptive, as she finished up comforting her restless urges; her breathing returning to normal now. "Maybe one day" she said to the dark empty bedroom, barely lighted by the screen. Deleting the file, she went to bed. "Maybe one day..." she repeated sleepily.

Should have posted something better than Love Hina fanfiction...

Under this Sky

Not many people liked Peter Norfolk. That was probably because their first impressions always involved signing a legal waiver, authorizing their already recorded images to be uploaded to the net for everyone to see. And that was a bit too scary for a first impression.

In the early days, a “I'm blogging this” shirt cut it, but the trivial lawsuits started to pour in. The general consensus was not that it was wrong to video log your whole life, it was bad to include everyone you contacted in it. Since then, he had voice and face distortion algorithms running on the faces he saw everyday, the video archives were full of it, and everyone was happy. It had been a full year since someone signed the legal paper surrendering their images, and 3 months since he stopped trying.

An afternoon stroll was always a good source of data to document. Views and interesting things he found were getting all the traffic, and it was the best you could do when your life suddenly starts documenting itself and you realize how easily patterns emerge. And Peter hated being predictable. The park proved to be worthy, a few flowers deserving a full resolution snapshot, and a playground full of giggling children. He stood there for a while, grinning to himself, just satisfied with the whole scene, before realizing he looked like a weirdo, and the whole take was going to be ruined with distorted faces and voices that killed all the potential charm it could have. The sun was already setting, turning the skies aflame, when he saw her. Just another girl, average body, average looks, but interestingness levels above the usual. Her whole body language screamed personality, something worth documenting, getting to know, maybe befriend. He needed to give her the legal waiver, take his chances. He stepped forward, it had been so long since he tried that only one copy resided in his bag.
“Excuse me, miss? Would you mind signing this legal waiver? You see...”
Frozen for a second. She had turned to see him and all her eyes were calling.
“Sure Mr. Gargoyle”
Her rating got a plus five. He allowed himself a little smirk at the sneaked reference.
“It's not like that, I don't sell my collected data”
“Is that right, huh?” She shifted her arms, crossed them in front her chest. Was kinda cute, in a sleeping-wrath-of-Shiva way. She held her arm forward, impatient to sign the dreaded paper.
“Name's Sara” she mumbled while he leaned too give her a writing surface in his back.
“Sara?”
“Yup” she answered, giving the last strokes of a seemingly complex signature. “Tell you what, Peter the Gargoyle, I'll make this worth your time. We talk and walk”. Today’s footage was going to be great.

“So, you don't live off this” She looked genuinely interested, not that fake small talk look, but the real stuff.
"No, it started as some kind of exercise and turned into something important in my life. And when other people started doing it too, well, I decided to go all the way.”
“I see”
They skipped over a small puddle, headed toward a snack stand.
“So, you just tape all of your life and upload it for everyone to see, and... let's see, chips and a soda” Snacks were eaten in relatively silence, just having her by his side was relaxing. Weather was turning colder and the flames in the sky were slowly extinguished. “Are you cold?” “No” taking a big sip of the almost empty can.
“You are shivering”
“It's alright, but I could use a more sheltered location”.
Hot coffee this time, she seemed to really enjoy eating. Muffin, moccachino, croissant, and he could swear she was eyeing some cookies in the counter.
“What's you daily caloric intake?” She stopped short, that was it, he ruined it, she was gone, she hated his guts, it was over, such an idiot, idiot, idiot. She smiled
“I don't keep score, doesn't matter”.
“I'm a lucky idiot then”
She stabbed the air with a piece of croissant “You sure are, Peter the Peeper”.

“Your hand, it's vibrating...” The chilly street air hit their faces as they exited.
“That's my spidey sense, there must be a WiFi access point nearby”
“So you can upload on the go, pretty smart, and pretty weird too”
“You think so? Well, you are pretty weird as well”
“Thank you, I guess”. A few silent steps ahead, the buzzing got stronger
“Ok, I have to feel that” she said grabbing his hand impetuously. Right then, his hand was registering a close hotspot and another warm hand. He would probably go into sensory overload, but it was worth it. Droplets started to hit the asphalt, the smell of rain was overwhelming. He began to extend his umbrella and covered her head.
“Want me to walk you home?” Rain started to pour harder.
“Sure” She grabbed his hand, the glove buzzing with a steady hum. They went steadily, silent, just lost in the sound of the now raging rain and the varying intensities of wireless signal. A song of net chatter going on around them, rising and fading as they walked besides buildings and homes. He recorded some high definition video, but there was no possible way he could ever upload that feeling, that warmth at his side, the smell of rain, the sense of networking, and the twilight of the wet city. All this time uploading and he would never be able to recreate that walk.
“This is heaven, at least one of them...” she whispered sleepily at his shoulder, gripping tighter.

It was over too soon, like all good things.
“It was nice meeting you, Peter the Vigil” She said in a slow, steady voice under her breath, waiting in the final door.
“It was interesting Sara, thanks for this” he answered, trying to keep an equally steady voice, failing and probably giving away his inner most desires. Enter that house, be with her forever, and embrace her until world's end.
“Listen, I...”
“No”
It was not an angry no, just a denial. “Why?”
“Call me an old fashioned girl, but I'm not ready for a full time logging yet”
“Yet?”
“Yet. Maybe someday. Just google me sometime, if I show up, then look me up. Until then, goodbye Peter the Stranger.”

He stood under the umbrella for a while, and then took off. No sense fretting over it. Besides, there was some really good bandwidth near him, and this was going to be a post to remember.

Nicely done, I lol'd.

I had forgotten about this. A much better writer got the spot. Shouldn't have applied with unrelated copypasta and at final exams week. Well, I guess that in another time, another project, we might work together.

He,y feel free to do some Oekaki stuff; so long as it's not anal rape or beastiality we might just get along

Well, I guess that now I can put Anon's Nice Day in here. It was the best thing, I really needed more time to become more comfortable with erotic writing.
colombianon.blogspot.com

Why do I post this? Probably archival reasons. I feel a need to justify my actions to the future internet.