Despite the great lengths to which I go to label the content on this site as clearly and logically as possible, a good chunk of my readers still manage to get intensely confused when it comes to features written by guest contributors. I've received feedback for editorials I didn't write, death threats for webcomic reviews I barely contributed to, and even one incredibly passionate piece of fanmail for nude photographs of someone else posted on a different website with no direct affiliation with Project AFTER.

If you happen to be one of the illiterate kindergarten dropouts who frequently manages to miss the obvious signs and assumes that I regularly write guest material for my own website, then please read the following disclaimer as slowly and carefully as it takes for your chew toy of a brain to digest its message: I did NOT write the following fanfiction review—Kuramastrass did, and she is a different person who is not me. I want this fact to be understood implicitly, partly because I hate taking credit for other people's work and partly because, frankly, I don't want anyone to read the various allusions to the activity of searching for yaoi fluff found in the following text and think that I spend my weekends bookmarking Yu Yu Hakusho slash fics with my bedroom door locked. God bless you Kuramastrass, I think you're a wonderful person, but your hobbies disgust me. Not that I have anything against homosexuality in the moral sense, I just don't like reading about it. Especially when my favorite heterosexual anime characters are involved.

With that long-winded explanation out of the way, please enjoy "Brotherly Bonding". Actually, please just enjoy Kuramastrass's review of it; "Brotherly Bonding" itself isn't the sort of thing anyone enjoys, even if you happen to be a fan of B-grade yaoi fiction (which I'm not, in case I failed to make that clear). Kuramastrass's clever and caustic commentary was good enough to win her second place in the "Love Sick" Fanfiction Review Contest held on the PA Forums, though, so at least there's that to look forward to as you begin your journey into the heart of what is easily one of the worst Fullmetal Alchemist fanfics ever written.

Seriously though, Hiei and Kurama would never go for that sort of thing. Okay,
maybe Kurama would... Still, ew. - Alex

 

 

Guest Special: "Brotherly Bonding"
(A 'Fullmetal Alchemist' fanfiction by Teacuisine)

Reviewed by: Kuramastrass


Hello everyone, I'm Kuramastrass, known on the forums as the crazy one who types in green. I recently returned from my time in hiding/lurking in order to enter the "Love Sick" contest. I highly doubt I ever would have been able to forgive myself if I missed the first PA contest in over four years. And I'm glad I entered, because somehow I managed to get second place. But enough about me, onto the fanfic.

This fanfic is kind of special for me because it's not the sort of story I'd normally write about. Instead of going to my normal hunting grounds and finding some truly sickening Kurama-Hiei piece so fluffy that even I want to puke after reading it, or even going the lazy route and picking one of my own fanshit "masterpieces" (there's a lot to pick from there), I went and found myself a nice "romantic" oneshot at FanFiction.Net for the anime I'm currently obsessing and drooling over like I'm some sort of fangirl-dogbitch with a juicy, dripping, anime-steak being dangled in front of my nose: Fullmetal Alchemist. This'll be my first FMA-based fanfic mockery, so I hope it goes well.

Of course, although I'm relatively new to the FMA fandom, I've been around other fandoms long enough to know what pairings are the best for ripping on. Incest (especially of the homosexual variety) is always a good choice, and it's relatively easy to find. I've also been around long enough to be all too familiar with the term Elricest. Now, knowing a bit more about the canon in question, I can tell you that this word makes my blood boil.

But enough about that; let's get started. This was in the mature section of FF.Net, so I obviously set myself up for a lemon. I ate a little too much earlier – I'm hoping this fic will end with me puking, and I sincerely doubt that after I'm done with this I'll be able to summon the strength to find any of the aforementioned Kurama-Hiei fluff.

Deviating from my normal color scheme because Alex said it would be formatted this way (and also because I am OCD about matching), the original, unaltered text will be in red, while my commentary will remain in plain ol' white.

 


 

A/N: who doesnt like this. armorcest is so amazing.

Armorcest? Armorcest? Oh crap, that means Al's still in that suit of armor, doesn't it? I'm not sure if that makes this better or worse. Probably worse.

The edges around the mug of hot chocolate Edward pressed his lips to was hot. He could almost feel his tongue burning at the boiling beverage as the taste hit his buds, but it was a good feeling. If it weren't so darn cold outside and in his room, maybe he would have to take on such measures. But weather had this way of just pissing people off.

Purple prose also has this way of just pissing people off.

Alphonse and him had settled into another one of the many hotels they had found as they visited the town they had come across. Winter had approached quickly, giving them only this option - and luckily, their stay was packed with good keeping, which included the nice hot chocolate he was sipping at the moment. Making sure his sleeves were pulled nicely over his hands so he didn't burn his palms, Edward brought the mug to his mouth once again, taking a larger sip, though careful not to burn himself.

I see Teacuisine doesn't know very much about the fandom, which gives me slight hope for humanity. You see, a real FMA fan would have said "hand" and "palm" because EDWARD ONLY HAS ONE FREAKING ARM AND THE OTHER IS AUTOMAIL WHICH IS LIKE ALMOST THE ENTIRE POINT OF THIS SHOW ajsjfksnbfkdhf

Sitting on the other bed on the other side of him, Alphonse had covered himself in a good four layers of blankets taken from both his and Ed's bed covering. Edward had remembered wanting to question him at this approach but had stopped himself short, just letting Al indulge in whatever thoughts he was thinking at that moment. Warmth from the covers was unnecessary for him, so why take them? And he needed them to keep himself warm, what with the dropping temperatures and not-enough-heat-conditioning fit in their room. Al seemed to be quite content with himself, just humming a small tune as he pulled the blankets more over his armor and let out a sigh.

Well Mister Fullmetal Alchemist, it seems you don't know much about what happens when metal gets cold – it contracts. I assume automail is special and can handle this sort of thing, but Al's armor is probably regular metal. He probably doesn't want to break. So quit whining.

They had been silent for quite some time now. Edward had guessed that it was because there was nothing to talk about, and that if he did start speaking, he'd probably lose his train of thought in his excessive complaining about the temperature. A huff escaped his lips, causing his brother's head to turn swiftly for a couple moments. Ed pulled his sleeves more over his knuckles, the fabric now completely covering his hands as he gently sat the mug down on his laps as he started to cross his legs. Breaking the silence, he quickly spoke, "Why do you need all of those blankets, anyway?"

Al: Well if I could generate body heat, I wouldn't need so many, now would I, brother?

Ed: Oh yeah... Sorry about that, Al.

His brother's head that was slowly turning back away from him snapped back over. "Huh? Oh, these?" Alphonse gestured to all of the blankets pilled ontop of him - and Edward pictured inside his mind the younger boy's eyebrow going up questioningly. "I'm keeping my armor warm."

"But why?" The Alchemist answered back, tapping his fingers along the hot chocolate that was now cooling down, but only mildly. "There's no reason to if you don't feel cold."


Al: Well you see Ed, I'm made of metal, which contracts in the cold. Do you have any idea how weird that feels?

On another note, if the room's temperature is as cold as the author's implying, why isn't his drink frozen or something?

Alphonse gave a quiet laugh, which only spiked Edward's curiousity. "I've realized that, if you were wondering. If I were human I'd be able to feel the dropping temperature, so I'm pretending that I am cold, thus, the explanation for the blankets."

Al's reason is dumb. Mine is so much better.

Ed's expression was blank for a couple moments before he pressed his lips into a straight line, his eyes lazing for a moment as he shifted. He didn't like talking to his younger brother about the things he could possibly feel if he were human - or what he would feel when they got their bodies back. It only led to the burning sensation he had in his mind that there was no time for them to be sitting in a hotel in these freezing weathers doing nothing when valuable time was ticking on the clock. Sometimes, Edward tried to put himself in Al's shoes and think, would I say the same things if I was in a giant suit of armor? But most of the time he couldn't.

And my reason gives Ed no reason to be angsty. I am clearly the superior fanfic author here. ...Wow, how about that.

Alphonse gave another laugh before pulling his knees up, some of the blankets dropping just for him to grab a hold of them again. Ed found himself frowning. "If you're so cold, then you can come sit with me, if you want to." There was an offering tone to Al's voice.

Al: But seeing as how I don't generate heat, that could possibly just make you colder.

Edward hummed softly, his hands loosening around the hot chocolate mug and setting it over on the night stand as he shifted a little bit off of the bed.

No, don't set down the hot chocolate! After all the screen time and character development it's gotten thus far, I am thoroughly concerned about it!

As a matter of fact, I'd be willing to say the hot chocolate is the character in this fic I'm most attached to. Because so far, the author's done a really piss-poor job of making me care about the two characters in this story claiming to be the Elric brothers.

Whatever made his younger brother happy, he couldn't deny. After all, there was no harm in what Alphonse was doing, and it wasn't hurting him in anyway. The blankets wouldn't grow a pair of arms and legs and try to take over his brother's body.

Ed grit his teeth together at that thought. At least he didn't think blankets had the power to grow arms and legs.


Now I see why the author was focusing on the hot chocolate so much. The fact that it contained magical Stupid Juice is obviously an important plot point.

But right now, his brother's offer had proved to be quite tempting, and he did need the warmth. Hopefully, the fabric settling nicely against Al's armor had warmed the metal to some extent, so if he did lean against it for warmth, it wouldn't be completely freezing. His body warmth would warm the place he would be sitting anyway, even if his teeth were chattering and his skin was sporting goosebumps, and he wouldn't be one to complain unless his hypothesis was incorrect.

OH MY GOD, JUST GO OVER THERE ALREADY.

As soon as his feet came in contact with the cooled carpet, his body spoke quickly as he clampered onto his brother's bed, directly moving for the spot on the armor with the most blankets piled on top of it. Alphonse gave a quiet gasp as Edward pressed his back against that spot and grabbed the load of blankets, pulling them over his body and cuddling them up against himself.

Bad sign number one: quiet gasps are never good.

Like, seriously. When I'm out looking for decent yaoi lemons, if I see any form of "quiet gasp" my heart sinks and my stomach clenches until I hit the back button. I don't care how awesome it was before that.

They sat like that for a couple of blatant moments before Ed gave a soft sigh, his lips curling into a smile of content. "That's much, much more better." It definetly was, a sensation of comfort taking over his body as he let his muscles take in the newfound warmth and relax. "Thanks, Al!"

A couple of "blatant" moments, huh? The definitions for blatant are brazenly obvious; offensively noisy or loud; and tastelessly conspicuous.

Alphonse nodded deftly, his neck making a small squeaking noise as he turned his head once again, one of his hands settling against the older Alchemist's shoulder. It definetly made him feel better that Edward felt more warm than he had when he was sitting over on his own individual bed, and if he could share how he felt with his older brother, that just increased his happiness. Of course he wished that even though the cold was horribly unpleasent, he could feel it, and of course he wished that he could feel the warmth when given, but Edward's comfort filled his head with easy thoughts and that was enough for now.

Bad sign number two: that last part sounds suspiciously like the last line of Breaking Dawn. Being reminded of Twilight and Stephenie Meyer's writing style is an even bigger turn-off than the quiet gasps.

Though they were oblivious to the weather outside, the wind wisped around all of the snow outside that had turned into fat marbles of fluffy whiteness. People walking outside along the road had to drag their sinking feet through the rising snow, their faces hidden by the near-freezing air outside.

Sounds brutal. Too bad I don't care at all about the struggles of random, nameless extras that have nothing to do with the protagonists of the story.

Alphonse gave a small glance at the window, glad that they weren't in that position. His brother would be bound to catch a cold in the insane climate, and that wouldn't be good for neither of them. A doctor's office had to be a good way away, and it would probably be closed. A hospital would be packed, no doubt.

Yeah, that ain't be no good fer neither'a them.

Edward shifted against Al and turned so that his head was facing his younger brother's chest plate, golden eyes skimming over a handful of quality workmanship and metal. His top teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as he pressed his cheek against it, and he could hear Alphonse's reaction above him: a small gasp, fingers tightening around his flesh shoulder. For a moment, Ed's mind seemed to give up as his arms wrapped around Alphonse's mid section, giving it a makeshift hug.

You know that scene in A Christmas Story where that kid gets his tongue stuck to a flagpole? No reason, just wondering.

He had forgotten that they barely spent any time together. Conversing would be just fine, but they couldn't even do that. When they were able to sneak in time together, either Major Armstrong or Winry would accompany them on the train, preventing them from the precious talk they so desperately wanted with each other. He could tell that Alphonse was just dying to sneak in some time between them – and even if this was the first moment they could share together in peace, it was still progress – good progress, at that, and he wasn't about to be greedy for more. Even at this rate.

No, this is bad. Very, very bad.

Edward smiled softly as he chuckled to himself, giving a small kiss to the chest plate as his arms tightened. He planted tiny kisses everywhere his mouth would reach, ignoring Alphonse's squeaks of "what are you doing?" and "that's embarassing!" above him. For some reason, the blankets and Al wanting to pretend he actually felt the cold had made something click in his mind.

Come ON! My brother actually did the Christmas Story thing in our backyard one year, except to a scaffold instead of a flagpole. But still! That actually happens! Where's the logic, the reason, the science I expect from my FMA?

"You're pretending that you're cold, which is why you have the blankets, right?" Edward said to Alphonse, who had moved to give them just more space, though it was evident he was resisting due to embarassment, "And you also want to spend more time with me instead of just running around all over the place, wanting our bodies back?"

Confused, Al nodded above him. "Y-yes, but-!"


I'm just as confused as you are Al, don't worry. Try chanting "there's no place like home" and see if you can get out of this bad acid trip.

Edward continued his ministrations, but this time, he craned his neck to reach more places, his lips now holding themselves against the metal of Al's armor longer then they had before. "Then pretend that I'm warming you, okay? And that we're 'bonding' together rather than just speaking to each other about what we want in the future." As he said these words, his smile became a little bit wider, and Alphonse's hand moved to his underarm.

You know, Ed, even though your brother technically isn't human because he doesn't have a body, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that this is probably still morally wrong and would be frowned upon by society.

So as he pretended that every inch of metal that he was kissing was his brother's skin instead, he could only think how wrong it was and how he didn't care. He could also imagine how Alphonse could possibly reacting, wishing, wanting he had his body back - though it was a little too early to tell, and he found himself getting up onto his knees to press his lips warmly to the Al's neck plate, his eyes seeing through the little crack and locking on the blood seal. Alphonse whimpered, quietly, before he moved up once again to kiss at the spot his younger brother's mouth would be.

Yes, I'm sure Alphonse wants his body back just so he can engage in immoral sexual acts with his older brother. Yup. That sounds totally in-character to me.

Only his imagination could provide him with the thought of how soft Al's lips would be, how they're kiss would be hesitant before the younger Elric would lean forward into it gently. Edward cast a good name on this, though he wasn't one to go off on thinking whether or not him and Alphonse's relationship would escalate from just brotherly. He found himself closing his eyes and letting his teeth chaf against the metal he was currently kissing(and it tasted very interesting), and Alphonse let out a quiet, "brother?" as the hand on Edward's underarm moved to his torso.

Are you... You're unsure if your relationship will go past brotherly? That's like murdering someone in a crowded place and afterwards thinking idly, "Hmm, I wonder if I'll go to jail."

Sensations poured into the older Elric's body as he pressed his body closer to his brother's armored form, his own hands moving from the metal back to Al's helmet, holding there for moments and moments as he pulled back, a light smile on his face. He could see his younger brother's eyes dim for a moment before relighting, and he could feel the fingers on his chest tightening considerably hard-

And Ed got flung across the room. Al then put all of his energy into erasing that from his mind forever.

Edward was surprised to see Alphonse taking a small lead in their 'bonding', his arms moving once more and lifting so that his shirt could be pulled up, over his head, and tossed to the ground. Al's hands were cold on his chest for a moment before they warmed, and Ed found himself leaning against the other's chest plate, his abdomen stiffening as he was touched, not too hard or too soft, but as if he hadn't for a long time.

Really, I don't think metal warms that quickly.

Speaking of which, Ed's hot chocolate is probably cool enough to drink by now.

He would have done this sooner if he was able to. He let his arms fall against Al's large shoulders as he tried to ignore the increasing, dull throb in his hips. He couldn't identify it, since he had no experience, so he let it pass. Though he was wearing track pants, the constriction around his waist and down felt as though he were confined to his leather pants, that were over hanging off the side of his bed post, and he could only wonder if it was normal. Alphonse's body lurched against him for a second, and Edward was greeted with a jolt of mild arousal coursing through his body like a bullet as the stomach of his brother's armor pressed against his lower body.

Awwwwwww! Ed just got his first boner ever from his younger brother. How kawaii~!

Please shoot me.

"A-are you alright?" Alphonse asked - stunned, as Ed's face twisted for a moment before loosening, the blonde's lips parting, "Did I hurt y-"

"No." Edward cut in, his voice laced with slight lust and a tremble if you listened carefully, "It just feels .. good. Amazing, even. Keep going."


Bad sign number three: ...well, there's nothing I can generalize this as, but if your target audience (yaoi fangirl, AKA me) is sickened by a few words or a phrase, you're doing something terribly wrong.

I mean hell, I know I mentioned that the word Elricest makes my blood boil, but I'll read anything for the sake of good yaoi. I read fics with pairings I normally wouldn't even dream of shipping because I'll admit that even if I don't like the pairing, it can be written well. (That's actually how I got into most of my ships in the first place.) But reading slight lust and a tremble if you listened carefully gave me that sinking feeling I get in my stomach I get on a roller coaster before I start screaming "HELPMEJESUSIDON'TWANNADIELETMEOFFTHERIDEOHJESUSSAVEME!" Which isn't what I want to feel when reading yaoi.

Though he did drag Alphonse into this, he was surprised to see his brother nod and lean forward a bit, his other hand now selecting it's course downward and stop at the elastic of his track pants, thumb flicking against it. The want that filled Edward's mind the moment he noticed the little flick against his skin was something not even he could understand as he glanced down, his Auto-Mail arm falling off of the shoulder plate to press against the thigh of Al's armor. He could feel Alphonse's finger dip into his track pants but not go far, and he chanted inside his head, go, do something, before Al's other hand moved against his back.

I dunno about the rest of you, but I think someone's arm falling off would kinda ruin the mood.

Now they were both shifting towards the edge of the bed. Both of Edward's legs locked around his brother's stomach as the younger Elric's own legs swung off the side of the matress. They stayed like that for a couple of seconds, before Alphonse hummed and said, "This is not a dream," low underneath his breath.

"This is a nightmare."

Edward let out a small, choked laugh, his hips now rocking against the metal in front of them, generating friction. Luckily, the pants he wore were thin(and so were his boxers, but he wasn't letting the other know this), giving him an easy go, and his head dropped against Alphonse's neck as his brother's hand on his back rubbed in small circles, little throbs of pleasure going straight to his arousal.

Ed: This is even better than humping the couch! Or the bed, or the nightstand, or the chair, or...!

Though they weren't moving nearly as much as Edward had hoped he would, the braid his hair had been tied into was now a messy river of blond flowing down his back that stuck to his neck and shoulder blades, sticky from the increasing sweat now.

There's this thing called TMI, author, and now I'm imagining sexy Edward with his hair untied and my inner fangirl is bawling like you have no idea.

As he let out a quiet moan, Alphonse's hand, the one settling against his chest, moved down towards his confined length that was asking for the attention he couldn't give except for the thrusting he was doing against his brother's metal stomach. Edward's mind almost blanked as a large thumb rubbed against him through his pants, and his body tensed, his veins numbing. "A-al," he groaned coherently, his tongue licking at his lips as his body grew increasingly aroused, eyes closed, "k-keep doing that, mm~"

I hope Ed catches some kind of nasty STD from this. Or at least tetanus. He deserves it for saying "mm~".

Alphonse's body was finally coming to be more effective for more then just fighting now as his stomach muscles pulsed and tensed. Letting out a low keen, hot breaths of air escaped his mouth as he gave a hard thrust into Al's large hand, the bed they were sitting on giving a loud creak. Too many feelings took over Edward's form as his mind tried to keep up with them, and he could feel the wet stickiness now forming in his boxers. He was too far gone in the pleasure to feel embarassed by it, however, focused majorly on the coiling heat in his stomach. His arms trembled as his Auto-Mail hand moved to grasp his brother's hand pressing against him, adding more pressure, applying more pleasure, and he let out a loud moan, followed by a gasp as he came, his body thrown taut, the feeling nostalgic.

I thought Ed's arm fell off a few paragraphs back. Eh, whatever. Continuity is the least of this fic's problems...

Also, if Al is a hunk of metal, how are his muscles pulsing and tensing? And how is the feeling nostalgic if Ed has no experience with this sort of thing? LOGIC? HELLO? WHERE ARE YOU?

His hand loosened and his body relaxed almost immediately upon impact, his pants loud and uneven as he let his hips that had still been thrusting awkwardly stop. Alphonse went to go say something but stopped himself short as Edward let his head fall to the side, his other hand coming to brush all the hair out of his face. The room temperature had definetly risen to an overwhelming temperature to the older Elric, and his mind was so overcome with fading pleasure and joy that he hadnt noticed.

Okay, so... hand jobs heat up a room better than setting its walls on fire. Got it.

It was only when Alphonse finally broke the silence that Edward finally snapped back into reality. "Are you alright ..?"

"Amazing," Edward breathed, his breath raspy and weared out as he let each breath pass through his lips softly. "I dunno how long I've been wanting us to do something together that would benefit off of both our happiness."


Al: I'm not actually 'happy', brother. I'd say it's more like 'scarred for life'.

Alphonse brought his hand up and away from his other brother's body, discreetly wiping it off on the bed sheets as he sighed in agreement, comfort evident on his voice.

Al (mentally chanting): By wiping my hand, I wipe my mind clean of the memories...

"I'm glad that you've been thinking the same thing. Armor prevents me from doing a lot of things, though, so I'm glad that this happened, too."

If anything, Edward would've thought that his brother would go down on him


WHAT!?

with a line of flustered words and unexplainable feelings.

Oh. No, wait, that's still a WHAT!?

A wave relief was lifted off his shoulders as he pressed his lips into a straight line and closed his eyes, wiping his hair away again. As he reached over to grab one of the blankets and pull it over himself, Alphonse quietly asked him that if he was still hot from only a couple minutes ago, why he needed the heavy blanket covering him.

Ed: Because I'm too tired lazy to re-dress myself, Al.

"It's still freezing in the room." Ed replied tiredly, though a smile played on his lips. "And I want to keep you warm, too."

I think I can speak for everyone ever when I say:

What.

No, I mean, seriously. Just... What was that? I get ending the fic on a quote from a character that is touching and cute, but that? That doesn't even make any sense!

owari

NO DON'T GIVE ME ANY OF THAT PSEUDO-JAPANESE BULLSHIT I'M NOT DONE RANTING – oh wait, it's over. I don't have to continue trying to make you laugh through your pain, make you smile through your heartache, or channel the rage of all living things with my capslock. Okay, breathe. Let's wrap this up.


 

So, to quickly recap what you just tried to read: Ed tries to reenact A Christmas Story using Al, fails, and then gets jacked off by his brother. As far as contest entries went, it's like I found the gold in the crap pile. Except instead of gold, I found the smelliest, stickiest piece of crap. And that piece of crap also has AIDS.

These aren't the main characters of Fullmetal Alchemist. They can't be. Yes, Ed and Al would do pretty much anything for each other. But they know there's a line that they can't cross, and they know they have to back down when they get there. You may remember this: towards the end of the 2003 anime, there was a point where Al was held hostage by some of the homunculi, and Ed was being told to perform a transmutation to create the philosopher's stone and turn them into humans in exchange for Al's life. Ed soon found out that the transmutation would have killed a lot of prisoners, who until recently had been in the room above. The philosopher's stone would have eventually given him the power to turn Al back into a human, but more immediately, it would have saved Al's life. What did Ed decide? He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill a bunch of innocent people, even if it meant not reaching their ultimate goal or even saving Al's life. That was a line he couldn't cross.

I can't believe I just compared committing murder to jacking off one's brother, even if they are both alike in the sense that they are horrible and morally wrong. But I'd like to think the Elric brothers (or anyone for that matter) would also not cross that particular line.

On top of that, this story could easily have been from any fandom at all. With minimal changes, this could have been a Harry Potter fic staring everyone's favorite twins, Fred and George. A fanfiction should have some trace of the source material in it somewhere. Harry Potter fics should be full of magic, Trinity Blood fics full of vampires, Megas XLR fics full of crack and pop culture references, etc. There was no alchemy in this fic. For that matter, there wasn't much science at all, or even logic or common sense. Hell, we weren't even told where they were! They were just at some random hotel in some random city during the random winter. For all we know it was really the Pokémon center in Lavender Town.

In conclusion, this fic was full of fail. It fails in morality, it fails as a Fullmetal Alchemist fic, it fails at characterization, and it fails at being good yaoi. But as horrible as it was, I hope I made it somewhat easier for you to stomach. Somehow I managed to, but instead of calling that a victory, I vote we consider it a dangerously close call and all just give up fandoms forever. Yes. That sounds like a good plan.

...By the way, whatever happened to Ed's goddamn hot chocolate?

 

-Written by Kuramastrass.