#and mostly for dirty purposes anyways to create anticipation

[apoptoses]

Something that's been on my mind is seeing the idea that in order for smut to be valid to write it has to have a purpose. It has to say something about the characters, it has to serve as a tool for the plot, it has to have some deep meaning beyond the sex acts involved.

And honestly, that's not true no matter how much some very vocal people might insist that smut without a 'purpose' is just porn and porn is shameful to make and consume.

It's okay to write smut because you think the concept is hot. It's okay to write it just because you want to give your readers jerk off material about their favorite characters. It's absolutely, 100% fine to write smut for smut's sake.

And sure, you want it to be in character, you want to write it so that you can't just file the names off and replace them with anyone. But you can just write something because you think character X should fuck character Y in this very specific way and have that be the end of it.

Call it smut, call it porn, call it whatever. Write the stuff you want to write. You don't have to do literary gymnastics in order to make it 'valid' for anyone, and you especially don't have to make excuses to yourself to justify writing it in the first place.

[urmomsstuntdouble]

can we get a north italy character analysis too?? congrats on the 100 followers!! 💖💖💖

absolutely! i feel like im a bit unnecessarily hard on him sometimes...I really do love Veneziano as a character though. he’s so complex and well written! also thank you! 

insecurity

So it probably comes as no surprise that I think Vene is very insecure. I think some of the sources of his insecurity are survivor’s guilt, how a lot of people see him as being useless and only good at art/fashion/food, and that he feels like nobody would care about him if he wasnt the grandson of Rome. 

Where his survivor’s guilt is concerned, I think that there used to be a lot more personifications for Italy (and the entire world tbh), for all the city-states. Because of the strength of the “national” identity, i don’t think it’s out of the question for there to have been other personifications (see the war of the bucket), although only Veneto and Sicily are left by now. This is one explanation for why he seems so extroverted- Because he grew up surrounded by other people, and now he feels very much alone in comparison. 

As for the only being good at art/fashion/food, he doesn’t like that people reduce him down to these traits. I think it makes him feel very weak, or like he’s bad at being a nation. Yeah, nobody knows what the purpose of the nations is, but the expectation coming from both the other nations and all their people is that they must be strong. So Feli really doesn’t like that nobody sees him as being strong- partially because in his mind, not being strong means he’s a failure. Part of this is just because that’s how it was for much of European history, but I think some of it is also because of how Rome treated him when he was a kid. More on that later. But yeah, it feels like nobody acknowledges him for anything other than the fun parts of his country. And that’s cool and all, one does like being known for fun times, but it makes him feel a bit insecure and he gets self-deprecating a lot because history ain’t pretty, ya know? More importantly, no one person is pretty all the time, and the way people see him as being so fun and cute and quirky and all makes him feel like he’s not allowed to express his negative emotions. That’s no good no matter who you are but for an immortal it’s just so much worse, because while you may have. idk 10 years of baggage. he has literal centuries. 

I also think him being the grandson of Rome makes him really insecure and shaky in his identity. Such big shoes to fill, ya know? He’s not terrible at filling them- Venice being so incredibly welthy during the Renaissance and all- but the way that Rome treated him as a child didn’t help. I think that the way Rome’s parenting is viewed is often through the lens of neglecting Romano, but (and this is a bit of a while hc time) i dont think it was actually like that? or at least not super clear cut. I think that Rome tried to create some competition between his grandsons, maybe to prevent them from rising up as nations and lessening some of his power, or to keep them from developing a strong enough bond to topple him. Veneziano and Romano were definitely his two favorite kids, if favorite is the right word. He paid the most attention to them, and manufactured some of the basis for their present day relationship- Such as Romano’s jealousy, which isn’t as intense in the present day, but definitely stems from being made to feel like he wasn’t as worthy of parental love. The way this affected Vene, on the other hand, is that he suddenly felt like he had to be perfect at all times or his grandpa would cast him aside, just as he did with Romano and their other siblings. It also created Veneziano’s need for constant validation, as there was a constant fear that his paternal figure hated him for just existing (because Rome definitely made the other Italian personifications feel like that..and other Roman provinces, like Spain and France, but i think that’s a little off topic). All this is to say that his relationship with Rome set up a lot of his present day insecurities about how nobody loves him or needs him- Because as a little baby country, he definitely needed someone to care for him, but Rome didn’t need him back. This mindset that was established during his youth is very much still prevalent, down to him not being able to hold grudges. Because when Vene was young, his grandpa was the main person who had wronged him, but he couldn’t make himself hold a grudge against Rome- That’s his grandfather and his protector, so he didn’t feel like it was okay for him to hate him. 

manipulative tendencies

A lot of people think that Veneziano is manipulative, and I would have to agree. I think that some of this is inherited from Rome, and some of it is due to his career as a businessman. Where Rome is concerned, the way that he raised his grandkids was super toxic, especially with how he turned Veneziano into someone constantly worrying about what other think of him. But...if Vene could control how others thought of him...he wouldn’t have to worry...and yeah that’s basically where I think him being manipulative came from. It’s also a little bit based on Machiavelli’s The Prince, as Veneziano wants very much to be loved, but the only way he knows how to make people like him is through fear, as that’s how his grandfather did that. 

need to be useful

So, going back to what I said earlier about how his angsty childhood with Rome made him feel like he always had to be perfect- I think that might’ve contributed somewhat to this idea he has that he must be helpful and useful Or Else. This is seen throughout the comic, although I think it’s most obvious where Romano is concerned. He wants to make things easier for his brother, which is mostly done in the form of making sure Romano can relax and doesn’t stress himself out too much with work and all that. However, he doesn’t do this with other characters he’s close with, like Germany and Japan- Because he doesn’t think he can be of any use to them. I mean, he would like to be, but he’s not out here trying to do all their work for them and save them from stress. In fact, he more often relies on them for those things. But Romano is at his same level, sort of, so he could be useful for Romano. Of course Romano has an entirely different perception of this. 

I think there’s also some lingering stuff from Youth that makes him need to be useful, other than just you are the heir of the roman empire and you are an utter FAILURE if you can’t be great on your own. I think his fear of abandonment stems from his upbringing too, which is why he’s so clingy and always trying to please others. He knows what might happen to him if he doesn��t, and if he’s in the situation of fighting for someone’s approval, he will play dirty. 

Anyway, I think that’s about it! A bit longer than I anticipated, but ah well. analysis bb. I hope you liked it, and thank you for the request! 

writing requests

[crystalninjaphoenix]

A New Visage

An idea for the Branded AU that I’ve had for a while. This was a bit difficult for me to write, but I think it came out alright. Anyway, this is for all the people who are wondering what happens to someone once they get masked. And also, how do the masked even work? How do they operate? All those questions and more will be answered soon.

Branded is created by Jay, @blade-of-memeora! Check out more on their profile!

The room probably hadn’t been meant for people to stay in. It was rather small, and it didn’t have any windows. One of the walls had clearly been added in somehow, made of plywood instead of plaster. But regardless of its original purpose, someone had dragged a cot with bedding into the room, and that was where he was sitting now, cross-legged with his hands in his lap.

He wasn’t sure how long he was supposed to stay here. He must’ve been here for at least a couple hours, and there wasn’t any sign of anything changing. There was a strong temptation to get up and just leave through the closed wooden door, but he wasn’t supposed to. That was the overwhelming thought in his mind, that he should stay and wait. Whenever he thought about leaving, the notion was soothed away, and he kept waiting.

When the door opened, he immediately tensed, eyes flying toward it. Two people walked in. One had shoulder-length rose-red hair, and the other had undercut bronze-orange hair. They were both wearing masks, with orange’s being shaped like butterfly wings and red’s being a simpler one that covered the upper half of their face. He stared at them. The two of them stared back. And then the orange one scowled and muttered, “Why do we always get the cats?”

“We don’t have that many,” said the red one.

“The Seamstress just sent us another pair,” the orange one countered. “Guess what? More cats. They’re not house cats, but my point stands. I think we have enough cats to form a pride.”

“Does it really matter?” The red one stepped further into the room. They smiled at him. “Don’t mind Monarch, she’s a bit fussy over details. You’re the new one, then? We’ve been assigned to fill you in. Call me Lightshow.”

He stared at them for a moment more, then slowly stood up. “Hello. It’s...it’s nice to meet you.” Instinctively, he opened his mouth to introduce himself, but nothing came out. Come to think of it...his mind was fairly blank in that department as well…

“You look confused,” Lightshow said. “Don’t worry, we all were at first. It’ll make sense the longer you’re here. Come on, we’ll show you around.”

The three of them came out of the room into a long hallway lined with doors. Some of the doors looked like they belonged, others looked more out of place, sitting in sawn-out door frames. The beige wallpaper was faded and peeling, the red carpet was dirty, and the lights overhead flickered. It looked like the hallway was part of what had once been a nice house, but had been run-down and abandoned for a while. The room they’d just come out of was sitting near the end of the hallway, which extended before them for a long time before it turned. The hall was empty except for two more people in masks, one yellow-haired, one cyan-haired, who were talking to each other.

“Where is this place?” he asked, the words coming out hushed.

“Just some abandoned building on the edge of this town,” Monarch replied, shrugging. “We’ve repurposed it. Unfortunately, there are quite a few of us in this area, so the ones living here had to...remodel it a bit. Hope you get used to it, you’ll be living here unless you’re wanted somewhere else.”

“Really?” He looked around, reconsidering his surroundings. Not exactly what he was used to, but he supposed there were worse places to live, especially if it had to be an abandoned building. “How will I know if I’m wanted somewhere else?”

“You’ll know, kitten,” Lightshow said simply. They started walking, Monarch by their side. One he realized they were walking, he hurried to catch up, but stopped short of walking even with them. He wasn’t supposed to do that. “There are three floors to this building, and this is the second one. Here, we have everyone’s personal spaces.”

“Like bedrooms?” he asked.

“Not exactly.” Lightshow glanced at him. “Bedrooms are for sleeping. You’ll find you don’t really need to do that anymore, but you can if you want. The personal spaces are just that: spaces for privacy. People function better if they have something of their own.”

They passed the two masked who’d been standing in the hallway. He stared at them as they walked by. The yellow-haired one flashed a wicked grin, while the cyan one’s smile and head tilt was a bit softer. “How many people are in here?” he asked, speeding up a bit, barely stopping himself from being even with the other two.

Monarch hummed. “I dunno, I think you make it nineteen?”

“Twenty,” Lightshow corrected. “You always forget about them.”

“Oh yeah. But maybe they don’t count.” Monarch glanced behind them, back at the two others they passed. “A word of advise, by the way? Keep your personal items close while around that yellow one back there. They like to snatch things. Even managed to get away with the doc’s coat once.”

“Whose coat?”

“The doc.” They turned the corner, and Monarch pointed down this new hall towards a door at the very end. “You might meet him soon. He’s one of the ones who travel a lot, in contrary to those of us who stay in one area. Not around now, but he stays there when he is. You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

He bristled. “Well, when I’m in a new place I try to find out as much as I can about it. Sorry if that’s rude or something.”

Lightshow laughed. “Kitten’s got a tongue. That’s cute. You might want to keep that to yourself around here. It could get you in trouble, and not everyone’s willing to overlook a slight.”

His immediate reaction was to snap back in retaliation for the cute remark, but that faded away the more he thought about it. It was something he shouldn’t do. That made sense. So instead of saying anything, he just nodded and rubbed his wrists, which suddenly felt odd.

They came to a pair of staircases, one leading up, and one leading down. “I say up,” Monarch said. “I don’t feel like walking up two pairs of steps when I have the option of only walking up one.”

“No, we have to save that part for last.” Lightshow was already heading downward, not even bothering to look back at her. “Just in case something happens.”

“...ah. Right. You know I really think if that was gonna happen, it would’ve by now, but yeah, good point. Come on, whiskers.”

He started after them. “What could happen?”

“Oh, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Lightshow called. “Hurry up, you two.”

The first floor of the house was in a similar state as the second one. It must’ve once been nice, but it was now worn down. The carpets were stained, and when there wasn’t carpet the wooden floor underneath creaked. But the place was still livable. He figured that the people who lived here must keep it fixed up and maintained. Maybe there was a chore wheel. The thought almost made him laugh, but it didn’t get beyond a small grin before it was quieted.

The rooms on the first floor had various purposes. One was announced as the storage room, full of boxes that he wasn’t allowed to look inside of, though he did manage to see a pair of masks sitting on a shelf by the door. One was full of maps, showing various places all around the country, and even the world, all marked up. Again, he wasn’t allowed to look too closely at the contents. There were a couple doors that they walked right past, also based on the principle that he wasn’t allowed inside there. And, somehow, he was okay with that. He wasn’t high up enough yet. He shouldn’t even want to go inside until it was time.

There were only really two places he could stay in for long. The first of which was a sort of common area, apparently the one place people could socialize in this house. There was a fireplace in this large room, as well as a few chairs, sofas, and low tables. It was mostly empty, though there were a couple people in masks chattering in the corner, one blue and one purple. He couldn’t catch much of the conversation, but the one with steel-blue hair seemed to be pretty exasperated.  “You can check this place out once you’re ready,” Monarch said. “It’ll be great for you to get to know the rest of us.”

The other room, Lightshow introduced as the mission room, a medium sized room with a map of the city on one wall and a desk with a computer leaning against the other. There were also coat hangers lining the walls, with various articles of clothing, “In case you need to be subtle,” Lightshow explained.

“Um…what exactly are the missions?” He ventured to ask.

Lightshow looked shocked. “Oh, I thought you’d have figured that out by now! After all, it was a mission that brought you here.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Don’t you remember? They actually sent six out for you, anticipated trouble. Honestly a bit overkill, in my opinion, could’ve gotten away with maybe half that. We really should get someone who can organize things better around here. But I’m not in charge of making the teams, or of deciding who’s next.” Lightshow smiled at him. “You were chosen, kitten. The master thought you’d be useful for the cause. It’s a great honor, but not many people see it that way, so when we go out to recruit them, they don’t exactly appreciate it. They always come around though. Like you did.”

He remembered it now. Every moment, from seeing those people in his house to having the mask put on his face. He remembered being scared. But...why had he been? Nothing bad has happened to him in the whole time he’s been here. And it was an honor to be chosen...it was amazing to be found useful. He had nothing to be scared of. If anything, he should be grateful. He nodded slowly. “That makes sense...so we always go out to recruit more?”

“Oh, not always,” Lightshow continued. “Sometimes we need to get more supplies. And sometimes we have to get rid of the enemies to the cause.”

Of course. “And...that’s how we help the cause? Which is...to get more people?”

“The cause is to help the master, kitten,” Lightshow said, smiling. “And getting more people does just that.”

He nodded again. “I think I get it…”

“Good. This was the last room on the floor. It’s time to go up to the attic.”

Monarch smiled. “This is the best part.”

The top floor looked unfinished, with wooden floors and rafters spanning the ceiling of the one large room. Pillars supported the roof and there were what looked like random crates scattered about. There were also punching bags dangling from the ceiling and simple mannequins lining the edges of the room. The room was empty except for a single white-haired mask sitting against one of the pillars, who quickly stood up and left the moment the three of them entered, mumbling something about “good luck.”

“Alright. First things first.” Monarch grabbed his arm and pulled him to the center of the room while Lightshow meandered over to one of the crates and sat down. “We have to figure out what you can do.”

He was still rather confused, but he just stared at her. Answers would come soon.

“Everyone has magic, you know,” Monarch continued. “But it’s a tiny amount, unable to do much of anything. Until we’re given these.” She tapped her mask. “They amplify our abilities, and connect us to the master and each other. Fascinating, right?”

He nodded. It did seem kind of cool to have actual magic.

“There are a couple different types: allure, illusion, healing, teleportation, creation, elemental, and…” Monarch grimaced. “...chaos. You can only have one, and we need to find out which one you have.”

“Okay…” he said. “How do we do that?”

Monarch grinned. Her orange hair was suddenly glowing, and her eyes lit up with the same color. He barely registered this fact before something hard hit him in the gut, knocking the breath out of him and throwing him hard to the floor. He was winded for a second before managing to push into a sitting position. Monarch was still grinning at him, but not there were wisps of what looked like orange smoke whirling around her. “Well, you see,” she said, “We’ve found that magic tends to kick in when you’re in danger. So the easiest way would be to—”

Some of the smoke broke into small shapes, darting toward him. He yelped, throwing his arms over his head to protect it. The smoke darts hit his skin and poofed away, but they left behind a stinging pain. He glanced up just in time to see more coming. “N—stop!” He scrambled backwards, not nearly fast enough to avoid the next round. He could practically feel the bruises forming.

“Make me stop!” Monarch yelled. The smoke grouped together into larger segments and shot toward him.

He scrambled to his feet and started running, but he wasn’t faster than the smoke. The new, bigger wisps hit with an oof-inducing impact. Make her stop. Once the notion took hold, it wouldn’t go away. Of course, he had to make her stop. But how? The smoke still followed him; even when he tried to hide behind a pillar it managed to flow right around and hit him again. He ducked around the pillar, saw more smoke zooming toward his eyes, and ducked behind it again. The smoke still stung his eyes and he teared up. He squeezed his eyes shut. Somehow it had to stop. Monarch was controlling this, if he could somehow get her away, get her out of here—

Something clicked inside him. He gasped, and opened his eyes. They were now glowing green to match his hair. He circled around the pillar, eyes locking on to Monarch on the other side of the room. Make it stop. There was a splash of green light, a “Hey wha—”, and when the light faded away Monarch was gone.

He stared at the spot where she had been just seconds before. Then, there was the sound of clapping. Lightshow stood up. “Very nice,” they said, walking toward him. “See, that’s the teleportation we mentioned earlier. Good, I was hoping it would be something like that. Most people in this location are elementals or creators, have enough of those around.”

“Where’d she go?” he asked, still staring at the spot of blank floor.

Lightshow waved away the question. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you teleported someone else! Usually teleporters can only move themselves around, and need practice to move others. But you were able to do that right away!”

He felt a flicker of pride at that. “Now what?”

“Well, obviously, you still need practice. You just sent someone away without a destination in mind, usually not something you want to happen. But don’t worry, if this was any indication, you’ll improve quickly.” They smiled. “Very good. I was worried you’d be one of the chaotic ones. Those cause some trouble. This last one we picked up basically destroyed their first location, and before that we had one who vanished on a mission. But you? You’ll be very useful to the master.”

That was good. That was all he wanted.

“Now.” Lightshow grabbed his wrist and started pulling him toward the stairs again. “We’re done for today. You can go back to your personal space and wait until we’re ready for practice.”

“Okay.”

And so he ended up back in that same room he’d started the day in. He could go out and explore the building again. He could try and practice more with his new magic. He could do any number of things.

But he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe there’d be time for that another day, when there was nothing to do. Now? There was something to do, and that was to wait. So he sat down, folded his legs, and waited to be called on again.

[meshugana1]

Possibly a girlfriend who finds her boyfriends stash of foot fetish related toys, inside are a pair of those like, silicone feet with the vaginas on the end. She puts them on like gloves to tease him leisurely about his fetish and ends up with a pair of feet hands? (I know it says not accepting requests but I’d totally commission this one ❤️)

   Claire left work over two hours early to properly formulate her plan. Her thin frame zipped about her shared apartment. Her black hair flipping into her mouth more than once. The home was a bit too messy for her purposes. She disrobed to her white cotton tank top and her plaid skirt, her arms refilled quickly with dirty clothes, almost all of them hers. Soon the apartment was clean, then her plotting could begin in earnest.

   It was Claire’s passion, that delectable anticipation before the climax that she loved. That thumping heart beating in her chest so loud she was afraid they might hear it, that doubt in her mind that they knew. And then the moment comes and her plan is executed and that steely calm comes over her as they panic and shriek. Scaring people was the best feeling in the whole world, and she loved sharing it with her boyfriend.

   Andy was so responsive to it too. She knew he’d be perfect the first time they watched the original Paranormal activity in theaters together. Claire nearly fell asleep with how boring it was, but Andy was practically wetting himself. He grabbed Claire’s arm so tightly he left an impression for hours, and the usher warned them three times about his screaming. He barely made it through the whole thing and afterward, he had nightmares for days. Now Claire was not a cruel person, far from it. But she was not one to turn down such a golden opportunity when it presented itself so blatantly. She was a proponent on the ‘hide and surprise’ technique. Classics never die after all, and given her small stature, it was a perfect choice. She remembered the first time she hid in the creaky old closet. She held her breath as he entered the bedroom and removed his puce tie. She exploded from the closet and screamed so loudly Andy actually wet himself, but only a little. That sealed it. Every few weeks she would find someplace new, once she hid in the trunk of his sedan and waited for the traffic to jam. For a minute she thought she had gone deaf.

   That wasn’t good enough today though. She had scared the hell out of him a few too many times. Suspending herself on the entryway ceiling produced hardly an equal reaction as she had gotten before. This one was going to be her last hurrah, and she was going to make it good.

   Claire entered the bedroom and as usual, found it to be immaculate. He was always much better at tidiness than she was. Just one of the reasons she loved him. That and just how good a sport he was. She rested her palm against her cheek as she examined the options before her. She could hide under the bed, it was plenty big enough for her, but she had already done that more than once. The closet was too obvious, and the shower curtain was too transparent to be effective. Thanks to her efforts he always opened doors as far as they could now so hiding behind it wouldn’t work. Then an idea struck her like lighting. Andy had a large trunk he kept in his closet all the time. He said it was some antique travel trunk he kept his files in. Being the worrywart he was he checked it almost every night. It was perfect.

   She went to the kitchen and grabbed the whiteboard for the fridge. She wrote: “Gone to gym, be back late.” Then she went back to the trunk. It was cumbersome and her small arms didn’t make it any easier. Then the next obstacle was the padlock he had on it, but she knew exactly where the key was, right underneath the trunk. He was not the most security minded of people. The trunk opened and she knew it was the perfect spot, or so it seemed from the outside. Once she removed all the files and lockboxes, it was absurdly small inside. As if it was missing a foot of space. Sure enough, the bottom was hollow. But when she opened the false bottom, she was the one to get a helluva shock, but at the same time she saw a helluva opportunity.

   Andy stood in front of the door for a moment and sighed before he entered. It had been over a week since Claire did something and that was unusual by itself. “I’m home Claire, you here baby?” He said as he entered the dark living room. He knew it was overdue but he still hoped she had grown tired of her little hobby, especially tonight. He did his best to keep work at work but the life of a lab chemist was sometimes demanding, and there was no way he was going to leave his project at the lab unprotected.

   He set the aluminum case onto the counter and made his way to the kitchen and held his chest as a relieved sigh escaped him at sight Claire’s note. He could watch his project in peace for the next few hours. He loved Claire, no question, but she was tiring. That was a big reason why he loved her. She challenged him on everything, especially his fears. It was working a fair amount, he wasn’t nearly as jumpy as when they first started dating. But all that meant was she was getting more creative. He opened the fridge slowly, she had managed to hide inside it once, ruining the anniversary cake he had made in the process. But the fun that followed that more than made up for it. She was even better at that part than she was at scaring him.

   He returned to the aluminum case and entered the combination. He always picked 1-2-3-4-5, his logic being that no one would think of a combination so dumb. He opened the case and a surge of steam spilled over the sides of the open container. He was lucky to get home so quickly, another few minutes in the case and the compound would be inert. His pet project was very sensitive and without a healthy supply of oxygen it would solidify in seconds and become useless. He removed it carefully, his grip firm, and slowly moved with the bubbling pink concoction in tow towards the refrigerator. There was an almost noiseless creak in the floor, just enough for Andy to brace himself, then the door to the fridge slammed and Claire bellowed a low wail withholding her hands behind her.   “Damn it, Claire! I’m kind of doing something important here,” Andy said. He was visibly tense but still held his precious cargo. Claire sniggered to herself as she calmed herself down.   “Sorry babe, couldn’t resist,” Claire said, “and I need your help! Something’s wrong with my hands, see?” Claire said, revealing her secret.

   On her hands were a pair of beautifully sculpted silicone feet. Their skin was dark and the nails were a bright red. Her dainty hands fit awkwardly inside the overstretched silicone pussy lips that encased her wrist.   “What?! Where did you get those?” Andy said, so flustered and aroused he nearly lost his grip.   “I found them in your little file trunk. Really, Andy, I had no idea you had such perverse tendencies. Now I know why you check it every night when I’m in the shower, you dirty boy you,” Claire said. Andy’s erection was painfully visible through his slacks. “Uh-oh, looks like someone needs a ‘hand.’” Claire stroked him through his pants with one of her ‘feet’. Andy’s reaction was immediate and intense. Those ‘feet’ were very precious to him, he acquired them years ago and scarcely went a night without at least looking at them. And now they were on his girlfriend’s hands, and she stroked his crotch.

   One could hardly blame him for what happened next. His hands became shaky and his flask became upset, spilling his precious project all over his girlfriend.   “Jesus Andy! Be careful!”   “Huh? Oh god! Quick, wash your hands!”   “Relax Babe, it mostly got on the feet. What is this stuff anyway? It kinda tickles,” Claire said. She looked at the pink ooze as it dissolved away into the silicone feet. “There Babe, see? It was self-cleaning.”   “Oh God, oh God!” Andy said. He rushed the remaining fluid into the refrigerator and began an examination of Claire’s arms.   “Babe, you’re scaring me. What was that stuff?” Claire said. The tickle intensified and the clear definition between her hands and the silicone became fuzzy.   “It was a bonding agent for people with prosthetics.”   “What a minute, you’re freaking out over glue?” Claire said, her hands regaining some odd feeling, “Babe, you had me there for a minute.”   “Not glue, a bonding agent! As in it bonds synthetics and organics at a cellular level, at least it’s supposed to. I haven’t even tested this stuff yet.”   “What!? Why did you bring it home then?”   “It’s just my special project, it’s not dangerous or anything, I don’t think anyway. There are no dangerous chemicals in it at least.”   “…Andy.”   “Yeah Babe?”   “I can feel your hands,” Claire said. Andy looked at her, almost ready to criticize until he realized just where his hands were. The feet were warm and rougher than he remembered them being. But the biggest shock came as he held the toes, and they pressed into his palm.

   “And that’s how this happened,” Andy said, his chest heaving as he reclaimed his breath. He had just spent ten minutes calming Claire down, then another two hours explaining the complicated science behind what had happened. It didn’t take much time for her to come to terms with it though, she was a role with the punches kind of gal. It was technically her fault anyway, but how could she have known she would’ve ended up with a pair of feet hands? Andy’s little concoction was damn effective, it fused her hands to the silicone and created a whole new bone structure to boot. Fully functional feet, just add goo. Parts of Andy’s spiel were hard to get through due to his excitement. It’s not everyday one changes the world as we know it. And Claire was happy for him and happy she helped, especially after he said he could work up an antiserum.   “And you’re 100% sure you can fix this?” Claire said.   “Yes, I’m positive,” Andy said.   “Good, then that means I can still do this,” Claire said, rising from her seat on the couch. Andy remained standing, but only for a moment as Claire’s second pair of feet pushed him to the floor, clumsily undid the zipper of his slacks, and pulled out a rapidly stiffening cock.

The End. Hope Y’all like it!