Oh would definitely agree there. Actually looking at the pictures I'm surprised how thick he looks.
Scott The Woz
- Thread starter Mangorumble
- Start date
Me and my best friend Scott are chilling in my basement scrolling through YouTube videos when somehow we stumble upon a video of some dudes doing an arm wrestling contest. For a good ten or fifteen minutes, we sit on the basement couch reacting to the contestants, struggles, victories, and losses when suddenly a thought enters my head.
“Dude,” I say flexing my right bicep with a grin, “You and I should arm wrestle.”
The suggestion is more a joke than a serious challenge. Flexing my bicep causes a baseball size muscle to rise up. Of the two of us, I’ve always been the more muscular one by a significant degree. Scott’s a nice guy, but when it comes to the athletic department I can’t imagine him being anywhere near my level. I’m almost certain he agrees. That’s why his response to my mock challenge is so surprising.
“Yeah sure man. You’re on!” he replies with a good-natured smile.
We casually clear off the small, low table between us and the tv. Then we grip each other’s hands in the center of the table.
“I bet you won’t last a second,”I say with absolute confidence. I mean this statement not only as trash talk, but also as a general statement of how I feel this match is about to go down.
“Bring it man,” he says with a nervous laugh. His entire demeanor is indicative of someone who knows they’re going to lose, but just for fun is going to give it a go anyhow. On the count of three the match begins.
At first I don’t give much effort thinking I won’t have to. I imagine Scott’s soft, flabby pale white arm slamming into the table almost instantaneously when the match begins. That’s not what happens.
Instead I quickly find myself having to increase my effort;not to slam his arm down in victory but to keep my arm from hitting the table.
“Fuck, what is going on,” I think to myself in slight panic, “There’s no way he’s this strong.”
I don’t think it’s possible that the soft,cute white boy with the glasses and Midwestern politeness would be such a challenge, but second after second he proves to be. My boast that I would beat him in less than a second becomes only more embarrassing the longer the match goes on and it becomes clear that even with all my strength I’m struggling just to hang in there. At one point, Scott forces my arm within an inch from the ground. My veins bulge as I strain to keep from losing. My eyes catch sight of the arm he’s using and what I see shocks me. The once smooth pale white surface of his arm now shows the striations of his muscles as they work to take me down.
“Holy shit, when did his arms get so thick,” I think in alarm. It doesn’t occur to me that I simply never noticed how thick Scott’s arms were until now. I’d given him the label weak nerd and stuck with it.
Eventually I get a hold of myself. I turn on the afterburners and after a minute and a half of arm wrestling I’m able to score the win. Scott’s hand finally hits the table. In an effort to distract from what happened during the match, I do my absolute best to play it cool and talk smack about the fact that I technically won.
“See I knew I’d beat you.”
A second later I think to add, “I won even though I had to take it real easy on you.”
In his innocence, he seems to believe me. Since he didn’t think he was going to win either, he doesn’t say much besides playfully accepting his “loss”. We go back to watching TV. I try to hide how damn sore my arm is. Minutes pass without much happening. Then I hear Scott say, “Shit.”
When I look over to where he’s sitting I notice a brown stain all over Scott’s white shirt. He spilled his soda.
“I’ll go get some napkins,” I say with a chuckle as I leave the room.
A few seconds later I walk back and stumble upon a sight I not only didn’t expect to see but didn’t expect to affect me so much. Having stained his shirt, Scott was now standing shirtless in the middle of the room in nothing but his black gym shorts.
Unlike me, Scott was always hesitant to take off his shirt. When we went to the pool or the beach he’d always leave a shirt on that hid his upper body from view. Consequently, I’d never really been able to get a close look at it. Walking over to him with the napkins I get a nice, full view of it. What I see blows my mind.
Scott’s body is by no means rock hard and rippling with muscle. I imagine he can probably count on one hand the times he’s seen the inside of a gym. It’s not the size of his muscles that shocks me. Instead something else about his body surprises me.
Subconsciously, I always figured Scott as out of shape with build that while far from obese was soft nonetheless. That is not what I see as he stands shirtless in my basement. Scott’s body is toned or at least way more toned than I expected it to be. In my head, I’d always imagined his upper body as a flat, featureless plain with only two nipples and a belly button providing any topographical landmarks. Staring at his upper body, I come to grasp how wrong I was. Scott’s pecs aren’t massive boobs of muscle, but they still have some height and even thickness to them. They’re gentle hills of muscle that without looking huge make an impression with their apparent firmness. He doesn’t have abs like me, but it’s not difficult to imagine that with only a little bit of work he could get them to start poking out. His flat stomach with minimal belly fat suggests a body more fit than I’d presumed. It occurs to me that just as with the arm wrestling contest I wasn’t just wrong about Scott’s body I was spectacularly wrong.
“Something wrong,” says Scott as he catches me gawking at his body.
“No, nothing man,” I reply, handing him the napkins and playing it cool.
He cleans himself up and we go back to watching TV yet again. I try not to think too much about the arm wrestling match or the shocking fitness of Scott’s body. Instead I sink back into the couch thinking no other surprises will come up.
“Hey man,” says Scott after about thirty minutes of time has passed, “You wanna wrestle?”
I give him a bewildered look. When I turn to look at him I notice a mischievous smile on his face and his phone in his hand. Apparently, he’d been watching some tiktok videos on his phone of people doing a wrestling challenge and thought it’d be hilarious if we tried it. I could tell by the look on his face and the way he issued the challenge that he wasn’t being all that serious.
Normally the idea of a playful, impromptu wrestling match wouldn’t bother me so much. Just as with the arm wrestling match, I would have accepted without a second thought as to my ability to whoop Scott’s ass. Recent events had taken their toll on my confidence.
“Don’t do it. Just don’t do it,” whispers a voice from within.
Not wanting to seem like a wimp, or admit my chances of winning may not be nearly as high as I once thought I brush aside this voice. Instead I continue to act cocky. In my cockiness, I even make a suggestion.
“Okay we can wrestle but if we do I want there to be stakes,” a sly smirk appears on my face, “We’ll go three rounds and whoever loses two rounds out of the three has to strip naked. Still want to wrestle?”
Now that I’ve added this extra bit of challenge I hardly expect Scott to agree, but not for the first time today he shocks me.
“You’re on,” he declares as he gets off from the couch and takes off his plain white shirt. My heart sinks as I once again catch sight of his unexpectedly firm upper body. We’re both shirtless, barefoot, and in gym shorts as we lock up in the center of the basement’s carpeting. The match begins.
The first round starts with me not holding back. After the embarrassment of the arm wrestling match I’m determined to put Scott away in two consecutive quick victories. In my head, I see myself overpowering him with my strength advantage and greater athleticism. It takes only about half a minute for my best laid plans for victory to unravel.
As I experienced during the arm wrestle, the yawning gap I expect between my strength and Scott’s is in fact only a small crack; one that he seems to easily step over with a level of skill that has me struggling from the get go. Scott may not be the most athletic guy around, but he’s naturally smart. It simply doesn’t take him long to figure out how wrestling works. Within half a minute he forces me from the offensive to the defensive as he gains more confidence in his ability to take me on. A casual match quickly turns serious.
The worst part of the first round, however, is definitely experiencing Scott’s body first hand. His smooth white skin is soft unbelievably soft. When I touch it the first thought that comes into my mind is the feel of a fresh pillow. It’s amazing, and deceptive. Deceptive, because pressing down firmly on just about anywhere on Scott’s body reveals that underneath soft skin lies dense, compact muscle that immediately takes me by surprise. Every time I touch that wonderful skin I’m tempted to think he’s a weak, soft nerd, but every moment I fight him I’m surprised by how wrong I am. Scott doesn’t win the first round. Nonetheless, he takes me to the edge of my limits. The thought of going two more rounds with him makes my heart sink.
“We can quit now and forget all about the stakes,” I say with a smile trying to mask how tired I am.
Perhaps sensing that I’m bluffing, Scott replies, “I’m good, man,” as he gets back into the center of the carpet ready for the next round. We promptly start round two.
In round one, I was able to stay ahead just enough to get the win. I have way more experience in wrestling than Scott does so that automatically gave me an edge. It also didn’t hurt that I had more confidence as well. During the first round, though, it was clear Scott was quickly learning. His confidence grew as the match proceeded as well. I knew the second round wouldn’t be the same as the first. I wasn’t wrong. In fact, I didn’t realize how right I would be until the round began.
From the get go, Scott had me in trouble. Exhaustion from the incredibly close first round had taken its toll on me, reducing the already minuscule strength difference between us. Within a few seconds, Scott takes me to the ground. Lying on the ground face up, I get to bear witness as Scott mounts my torso and proceeds to get me into a schoolboy pin. A shirtless Scott’s torso is glistening with sweat that makes his already toned physique seem even more so. The pump from the fight has definitely made his muscles larger and even more intimidating. I start to panic.
I’m able to buck and kick out of the schoolboy pin, but he stays one step ahead of me. He transitions to an arm bar that is so tight it feels inescapable. It’s barely been a minute and already I’m on the verge of defeat. My pride tells me to fight on and resist, but the sheer tightness of Scott’s hold says otherwise. To my embarrassment, it doesn’t take long at all for me to tap it out. When I get up the look of shock on Scott’s face only adds insult to injury. He clearly didn’t expect to win. Now that he has, I fear for the third round. Psyching myself I get ready for the third round. My pride won’t let me back down now. I’m determined to win.
As it turns out, Scott whoops my ass during the third round. It doesn’t even last half a minute. He immediately takes me down the moment we start the match and pins me down to the ground by securing my arms and using his smooth yet firm chest to press down on me. I can’t escape and after some futile struggle tap out. Scott wins.
“You remember our little bet right,” asks Scott, letting me go and stand back up. Now he’s the one with the cocky smile. “C’mon take it off.”
My injured pride causes me to stand back up and push him.
“Fuck you dude! You take it off!”
Immediately, I grab hold of Scott’s gym shorts and try to pull them down. I’m able to pull them most of the way down; revealing a pair of black boxers hugging his waistline tightly. An impromptu fourth round begins as we struggle to undress the other. Once again Scott easily dominates me. He forces off my gym shorts and pulls down my underwear. What I wouldn’t do willingly Scott almost effortlessly accomplishes. Then he does something even worse. As if to cement his dominance, Scott proceeds to take off what’s left of his clothing. He finishes taking off his shorts then his boxers. The sight of his fully exposed penis causes my heart to sink even further. Grabbing hold of my wrists, slamming them into the ground, and then once more mounting my torso, he gets me into another schoolboy pin. I’m forced to look up at the body of the man who beat the shit out of me as sweat drips down from him onto me.
“Dude,” I say flexing my right bicep with a grin, “You and I should arm wrestle.”
The suggestion is more a joke than a serious challenge. Flexing my bicep causes a baseball size muscle to rise up. Of the two of us, I’ve always been the more muscular one by a significant degree. Scott’s a nice guy, but when it comes to the athletic department I can’t imagine him being anywhere near my level. I’m almost certain he agrees. That’s why his response to my mock challenge is so surprising.
“Yeah sure man. You’re on!” he replies with a good-natured smile.
We casually clear off the small, low table between us and the tv. Then we grip each other’s hands in the center of the table.
“I bet you won’t last a second,”I say with absolute confidence. I mean this statement not only as trash talk, but also as a general statement of how I feel this match is about to go down.
“Bring it man,” he says with a nervous laugh. His entire demeanor is indicative of someone who knows they’re going to lose, but just for fun is going to give it a go anyhow. On the count of three the match begins.
At first I don’t give much effort thinking I won’t have to. I imagine Scott’s soft, flabby pale white arm slamming into the table almost instantaneously when the match begins. That’s not what happens.
Instead I quickly find myself having to increase my effort;not to slam his arm down in victory but to keep my arm from hitting the table.
“Fuck, what is going on,” I think to myself in slight panic, “There’s no way he’s this strong.”
I don’t think it’s possible that the soft,cute white boy with the glasses and Midwestern politeness would be such a challenge, but second after second he proves to be. My boast that I would beat him in less than a second becomes only more embarrassing the longer the match goes on and it becomes clear that even with all my strength I’m struggling just to hang in there. At one point, Scott forces my arm within an inch from the ground. My veins bulge as I strain to keep from losing. My eyes catch sight of the arm he’s using and what I see shocks me. The once smooth pale white surface of his arm now shows the striations of his muscles as they work to take me down.
“Holy shit, when did his arms get so thick,” I think in alarm. It doesn’t occur to me that I simply never noticed how thick Scott’s arms were until now. I’d given him the label weak nerd and stuck with it.
Eventually I get a hold of myself. I turn on the afterburners and after a minute and a half of arm wrestling I’m able to score the win. Scott’s hand finally hits the table. In an effort to distract from what happened during the match, I do my absolute best to play it cool and talk smack about the fact that I technically won.
“See I knew I’d beat you.”
A second later I think to add, “I won even though I had to take it real easy on you.”
In his innocence, he seems to believe me. Since he didn’t think he was going to win either, he doesn’t say much besides playfully accepting his “loss”. We go back to watching TV. I try to hide how damn sore my arm is. Minutes pass without much happening. Then I hear Scott say, “Shit.”
When I look over to where he’s sitting I notice a brown stain all over Scott’s white shirt. He spilled his soda.
“I’ll go get some napkins,” I say with a chuckle as I leave the room.
A few seconds later I walk back and stumble upon a sight I not only didn’t expect to see but didn’t expect to affect me so much. Having stained his shirt, Scott was now standing shirtless in the middle of the room in nothing but his black gym shorts.
Unlike me, Scott was always hesitant to take off his shirt. When we went to the pool or the beach he’d always leave a shirt on that hid his upper body from view. Consequently, I’d never really been able to get a close look at it. Walking over to him with the napkins I get a nice, full view of it. What I see blows my mind.
Scott’s body is by no means rock hard and rippling with muscle. I imagine he can probably count on one hand the times he’s seen the inside of a gym. It’s not the size of his muscles that shocks me. Instead something else about his body surprises me.
Subconsciously, I always figured Scott as out of shape with build that while far from obese was soft nonetheless. That is not what I see as he stands shirtless in my basement. Scott’s body is toned or at least way more toned than I expected it to be. In my head, I’d always imagined his upper body as a flat, featureless plain with only two nipples and a belly button providing any topographical landmarks. Staring at his upper body, I come to grasp how wrong I was. Scott’s pecs aren’t massive boobs of muscle, but they still have some height and even thickness to them. They’re gentle hills of muscle that without looking huge make an impression with their apparent firmness. He doesn’t have abs like me, but it’s not difficult to imagine that with only a little bit of work he could get them to start poking out. His flat stomach with minimal belly fat suggests a body more fit than I’d presumed. It occurs to me that just as with the arm wrestling contest I wasn’t just wrong about Scott’s body I was spectacularly wrong.
“Something wrong,” says Scott as he catches me gawking at his body.
“No, nothing man,” I reply, handing him the napkins and playing it cool.
He cleans himself up and we go back to watching TV yet again. I try not to think too much about the arm wrestling match or the shocking fitness of Scott’s body. Instead I sink back into the couch thinking no other surprises will come up.
“Hey man,” says Scott after about thirty minutes of time has passed, “You wanna wrestle?”
I give him a bewildered look. When I turn to look at him I notice a mischievous smile on his face and his phone in his hand. Apparently, he’d been watching some tiktok videos on his phone of people doing a wrestling challenge and thought it’d be hilarious if we tried it. I could tell by the look on his face and the way he issued the challenge that he wasn’t being all that serious.
Normally the idea of a playful, impromptu wrestling match wouldn’t bother me so much. Just as with the arm wrestling match, I would have accepted without a second thought as to my ability to whoop Scott’s ass. Recent events had taken their toll on my confidence.
“Don’t do it. Just don’t do it,” whispers a voice from within.
Not wanting to seem like a wimp, or admit my chances of winning may not be nearly as high as I once thought I brush aside this voice. Instead I continue to act cocky. In my cockiness, I even make a suggestion.
“Okay we can wrestle but if we do I want there to be stakes,” a sly smirk appears on my face, “We’ll go three rounds and whoever loses two rounds out of the three has to strip naked. Still want to wrestle?”
Now that I’ve added this extra bit of challenge I hardly expect Scott to agree, but not for the first time today he shocks me.
“You’re on,” he declares as he gets off from the couch and takes off his plain white shirt. My heart sinks as I once again catch sight of his unexpectedly firm upper body. We’re both shirtless, barefoot, and in gym shorts as we lock up in the center of the basement’s carpeting. The match begins.
The first round starts with me not holding back. After the embarrassment of the arm wrestling match I’m determined to put Scott away in two consecutive quick victories. In my head, I see myself overpowering him with my strength advantage and greater athleticism. It takes only about half a minute for my best laid plans for victory to unravel.
As I experienced during the arm wrestle, the yawning gap I expect between my strength and Scott’s is in fact only a small crack; one that he seems to easily step over with a level of skill that has me struggling from the get go. Scott may not be the most athletic guy around, but he’s naturally smart. It simply doesn’t take him long to figure out how wrestling works. Within half a minute he forces me from the offensive to the defensive as he gains more confidence in his ability to take me on. A casual match quickly turns serious.
The worst part of the first round, however, is definitely experiencing Scott’s body first hand. His smooth white skin is soft unbelievably soft. When I touch it the first thought that comes into my mind is the feel of a fresh pillow. It’s amazing, and deceptive. Deceptive, because pressing down firmly on just about anywhere on Scott’s body reveals that underneath soft skin lies dense, compact muscle that immediately takes me by surprise. Every time I touch that wonderful skin I’m tempted to think he’s a weak, soft nerd, but every moment I fight him I’m surprised by how wrong I am. Scott doesn’t win the first round. Nonetheless, he takes me to the edge of my limits. The thought of going two more rounds with him makes my heart sink.
“We can quit now and forget all about the stakes,” I say with a smile trying to mask how tired I am.
Perhaps sensing that I’m bluffing, Scott replies, “I’m good, man,” as he gets back into the center of the carpet ready for the next round. We promptly start round two.
In round one, I was able to stay ahead just enough to get the win. I have way more experience in wrestling than Scott does so that automatically gave me an edge. It also didn’t hurt that I had more confidence as well. During the first round, though, it was clear Scott was quickly learning. His confidence grew as the match proceeded as well. I knew the second round wouldn’t be the same as the first. I wasn’t wrong. In fact, I didn’t realize how right I would be until the round began.
From the get go, Scott had me in trouble. Exhaustion from the incredibly close first round had taken its toll on me, reducing the already minuscule strength difference between us. Within a few seconds, Scott takes me to the ground. Lying on the ground face up, I get to bear witness as Scott mounts my torso and proceeds to get me into a schoolboy pin. A shirtless Scott’s torso is glistening with sweat that makes his already toned physique seem even more so. The pump from the fight has definitely made his muscles larger and even more intimidating. I start to panic.
I’m able to buck and kick out of the schoolboy pin, but he stays one step ahead of me. He transitions to an arm bar that is so tight it feels inescapable. It’s barely been a minute and already I’m on the verge of defeat. My pride tells me to fight on and resist, but the sheer tightness of Scott’s hold says otherwise. To my embarrassment, it doesn’t take long at all for me to tap it out. When I get up the look of shock on Scott’s face only adds insult to injury. He clearly didn’t expect to win. Now that he has, I fear for the third round. Psyching myself I get ready for the third round. My pride won’t let me back down now. I’m determined to win.
As it turns out, Scott whoops my ass during the third round. It doesn’t even last half a minute. He immediately takes me down the moment we start the match and pins me down to the ground by securing my arms and using his smooth yet firm chest to press down on me. I can’t escape and after some futile struggle tap out. Scott wins.
“You remember our little bet right,” asks Scott, letting me go and stand back up. Now he’s the one with the cocky smile. “C’mon take it off.”
My injured pride causes me to stand back up and push him.
“Fuck you dude! You take it off!”
Immediately, I grab hold of Scott’s gym shorts and try to pull them down. I’m able to pull them most of the way down; revealing a pair of black boxers hugging his waistline tightly. An impromptu fourth round begins as we struggle to undress the other. Once again Scott easily dominates me. He forces off my gym shorts and pulls down my underwear. What I wouldn’t do willingly Scott almost effortlessly accomplishes. Then he does something even worse. As if to cement his dominance, Scott proceeds to take off what’s left of his clothing. He finishes taking off his shorts then his boxers. The sight of his fully exposed penis causes my heart to sink even further. Grabbing hold of my wrists, slamming them into the ground, and then once more mounting my torso, he gets me into another schoolboy pin. I’m forced to look up at the body of the man who beat the shit out of me as sweat drips down from him onto me.
I completed the story.Love the retro 1950s vibe he's giving here! Like this could be a scene out of one of those old movies or even (more recently) Back To The Future!
OK, this inspiring me to think of Scott The Woz: Lost In Time - The Slash Series!
Maybe he starts off playing some time travel game (Where In Time Is Carmen Sandiego?) and then gets sucked into the game and has different interactions throughout time.
*Side Note* This pic also makes me wonder if he's an Old Spice or
Love the retro vibes of this pic! Like it could be from a 1950s or 60s movie or even Back To The Future, maybe? Hmm, getting more inspiration now!
Scott The Woz - Lost In Time: The Slash Series!
Maybe it starts off that Scott is playing a time travel game (Where In Time Is Carmen Sandiego?) and he gets pulled into the game and ends up interacting with people from different time periods.
*Side Note*
I wonder what kinda of deo he uses? Old Spice? Speed Stick? Right Guard? I'd assume he's past the Axe/Lynx stage of life, hahaha!
Wow, that was quite the build up to the final (sexy) scene! Well done, @Dingus123456789 !
Will there be a part 2? Loved the part where you're trying (and succeeding) to rip each others clothes off!
Wonder if our Scott would really pull that kind of Alpha move at the very end, but hey, I'm here for it!
Not sure how soon I'll get to submit my own fanfic starring Scott, but probably after the holidays.
At the end of this vid Scott appears to have what looks like a massive hickey on his neck. The thought that Scott had a fuck the night before he filmed the video and was so good that his lady left a nice big sign of how hard Scott was making her cum is arousing as fuck.
Thanks. There definitely won't be a part 2. I don't believe in sequels LOL. What I will say is that as I was writing this the person I was imagining fighting Scott wasn't actually myself. It was actually singer Johnny Orlando pictured below
As for if Scott would actually pull an alpha move like that. I think in real life no, but part of the buildup of the story is that Scott gains more and more confidence throughout the narrative.
Hi @MixedPalette and anyone else who may be considering future fake tribute pics....
How about this Ladybonersgw guy as a base? ( u/Huffaluffagus85 )
reddit.com: over 18?
He may be a little older and fitter, but pretty close to our fave Scott W!
Might be a bit hard to work with this guy, since he doesn't really show his entire face
Maybe with him and Sean Giambrone. They'd probably make for a very hot 8teenboy scene.
It's very bold to tell someone to get a life, whilst at the same time bragging that you've been a member on a porn forum for over 17 years of your life.
It's also mad how wound up you're getting over him just tagging you, he's clearly just having a laugh over how easy it is to get to you.
Anyway, Scott is really good, I like him, he's very funny and seems kind. Unlike @BigBen
It's also mad how wound up you're getting over him just tagging you, he's clearly just having a laugh over how easy it is to get to you.
Anyway, Scott is really good, I like him, he's very funny and seems kind. Unlike @BigBen
Less fighting and more speculating about the size of Scott's cock
I imagine he's got a lengthy yet lean cock. 10 or 11 inches but only 4-5 inches around. And Sean Giambrone, if/when they hook up, is about 8-9 but is almost 6-7 inches around. I also imagine Scott's got a lean, skinny twink body, like a young Leo DiCaprio without any visible abs, and can suck his own dick.
blahblahblah225
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I know some people get more turned on by hyper fantasy, but I'm only really turned on by reality, so I'll speculate for my fellow realists haha I always imagine Scott probably has a super average dick in both length and girth, like maybe 5-5.5 inches long and about 4 inches around. Probably cut since he's American. And his body is just perfectly doughy haha like just the natural, healthy amount of fat buildup that his body type would get from having most of his hobbies indoors. I wanna make it my personal life's mission to cuddle with him and give him the best head of his life one day lol luckily I'm pan, so I would 100% be down for a threesome with his gf
PrincessOfCum
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I don't know how I came across this thread, but I thought I was the only one that though Scott was sort of cute.
blahblahblah225
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Welcome home, friend lol you'd be surprised how many people are sexually and emotionally attracted to goofy little idiots haha
I guess I missed this comment earlier, but yes, I totally support anyone that does Scott and Therapist Jerry (Justin Womble) slash stories / photos / art! Please don't forget to make sure Scott gets a mustache ride!
https://scott-the-woz.fandom.com/wiki/Jerry_Attricks"Jerry Attricks is a character in the Scott The Woz series. He is a therapist who owns his own business, called The Think Barrel. He first appears as an anchorman in A Very Madden 08 Christmas, but became an important character after Animal Crossing: amiibo Festival | The Dark Age of Nintendo as Scott Wozniak's therapist after he seeks help after playing 3 bad Nintendo games. Since his second appearance, Attricks has become a major character in the series. He is played by Justin Womble."
Wow! Well, we may not have the chance to visit alternate universes, but at least there's a few creative folks on this thread doing slash stories and images!
I can't decide if I like Scott and Sean being gay boyfriend/lovers or straight dudes that end up messing around? Either version sounds hot, though!
Speaking of slash stories and erotic fiction, how about a story where Hollywood wants to make a Scott the Woz movie, but they choose Sean Giambrone to play the role of Scott. The two guys meet and spend time with each other so Sean can learn how to play Scott correctly. A brief, but passionate affair ensues.
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