#oc: mozzy

[re-whump]

Day 5 - Concussed Caretaking

more Mozzy! maybe catching a break! it's a little over 500 words, oopsie. and on a comfort prompt, can you believe? (you should, it's what happens when I don't take time to edit) contains: tiny whumpee (borrower), concussed whumpee, unprepared caretaker

Mozzy was on the ground, soaked and freezing and vulnerable, and before they could blink, they were on their lying back under bright lights. It was dry. Their coat was missing. They were on a folded towel or something else soft. Warm. Inside. It smelled like…food? Old grease and something sweet. Some kind of kitchen.

They glared at the ambient brightness as they slowly sat up to try to get their bearings. Their head was killing them. It felt like a vise meant to pop their eyeballs and it made their vision even blurrier than usual. They hardly wanted anything more than to lay back down and get more sleep, but they knew they weren’t safe here, wherever here might be. It was bright and open and that meant they were basically serving them up to whatever hungry predator happened to wander by.

When Mozzy stood up, the light on the horizon shifted into a large shadow that fell towards them. They flinched automatically at the movement and stumbled in the opposite direction. The shadowy shape came into focus just before it reached them and they tripped over their own shock. Their tail just hurt when they tried to catch themself and landed against splayed fingers, each nearly as long as Mozzy was tall. They were too afraid to move except for the slight sway from their lost balance until the hand gently guided them back to where they’d woken up.

“Okay, no, we’re still gonna sit here for a bit, hm? Lay down?” the human said.

Mozzy stared up towards the rest of the shadowy figure. The lights around the edges burned and their eyes really didn’t want to focus on it besides confirmation that the human certainly did have a face. Dark hair, maybe?

The hand let go of them and tapped the towel several times to try and coax them back into bed. They waited for the hand to pull away then broke into a run.

Or, into a stumble. Between their broken—missing!—tail and whatever was happening with their head, their legs were having trouble remembering how gravity worked. The human caught Mozzy again and this time the fingers curled around them and pulled them off their feet.

“Hey, hey. You can’t run off yet. Sit down or you’re going to hurt yourself. You almost ran straight off the table, you know.”

Mozzy shook their head and struggled as the human lowered them back into the makeshift bed. Before they could even try to get to their feet, she tucked a corner towel over them and held them down for a second. They thrashed, but this was more than warning enough that she could crush them whenever she wanted. They went still.

Her hand drifted away to poke at another light Mozzy assumed was her phone. Calling someone? Photographing them? That, they couldn’t see no matter how hard they squinted their blurry eyes. A few more taps of glass and her hand returned to stroke the side of Mozzy's head.

They didn’t like being under her hand one bit, but they could admit the motion was about comforting enough to balance out that discomfort. They closed their eyes and pretended they didn’t know what it was that was touching them. Or maybe just that they didn’t know they shouldn’t trust a human so easily.

“I know this is my fault, I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know”—she swallowed the rest of the sentence and her voice forced a smile—“It looks like we finally got your tail to stop, um, oozing though. God, I’m sorry. I don’t suppose you’ve got some secret, tiny doctor around I could take you to?”

Mozzy shook their head.

“Then guess I’m the best you’ve got, sorry. I don’t think anyone is stubborn enough to be out this way in this storm except me. And apparently you.”

They shrugged deeper into the towel-blanket with a resigned sigh. They were so sleepy they relaxed easily into the thick terry cotton even with the giant looming over them. It was at least as comfortable than most of the beds they'd had over the years. And surely, having her messy help was better than facing this alone.

[reborrowing]

ok so mustelids make more sense as a Scary Predator, but Mozzy already kind of believes they’re some sort of borrower-lab mouse hybrid so it might be fun to let them be right

[faeriebreadconfetti]

drew this while listening to ram ranch

[majesticcorn2000]

she spent all of it in the casino as usual

[fl0pera]

@living-undead Thank you for giving me a chance to speak about Mozzarella Boy 🤍

Real Name: Noe

Alias: Mozzi Boy

Gender: Male

Star Sign: acquarius (I am still not exactly sure about his star sign)

Height: 185 cm

Nationality/Ethnicity: No idea, I don't think about it when makign a sim.

Favorite Fruit: Oranges

Favorite Season: He loves summer and he loves sunscreen

Favorite Flower: Camellia

Favorite Scent: petrichor and the smell of rain

Coffee/Tea/Hot Cocoa: tea

Average hours of sleep around 6

Dogs/Cats: cats

Dream Vacation anywhere where there is sea

Number of Blankets: he is the blanket, he likes to lay on top of Hermes

Random Fact: He loves teasing people, Hermes especially but also Courts. Hermes gets all shy and Courts scoffs and rolls her eyes. He lives for it.

I tag @plumbewb @faerun-s @sikoi @nepotisim and @mexipoopy

(ignore the tag if you don't want to do this)

[rudnitskaia]

Hi! I read your stories about Rocky and Maura on AO3 and they’re very good! Do you plan to write fics about Maura working with Rocky at Lackadaisy? Please write more! 🙏

Hi, anon ✨😭✨ I'm truly sorry for the late reply and hope you're doing well and will see my reply even after so much time passed 🥺💖

I'm very, VERY happy you like RoMaunce dynamics! 💖🥹💖 As for your question: the truth is that Maura working at Lackadaisy is a possible scenario, and a very interesting one, but it's not the only one. In any case, Rocky's and Maura's story isn't sweet and easy, but, if Mau starts to work at Lackadaisy, it triggers too many angsty outcomes not only for these two, but for many people around them.

Anyway, I wrote a ficlet about one of these personal outcomes for Rocky and Mau (though it came out to be more of a Zib & Mitzi's story). Hope you'll enjoy it. <3

A Better Life

Rocky didn't want to look, but he couldn't stop. His body felt numb, refusing to budge, and his glassy gaze was fixed on just one spot in the main hall of the Lackadaisy.

On Mau.

There she was, letting out another mischievous laugh and shifting the cue to her other hand. Even from such distance, from the backstage, he could clearly see the eyes of the bar patrons roaming over her figure as she bent over to make a hit. Their stares made him sick to the stomach.

The grip on the violin bow grew even tighter. Mozzie was finishing up to play some unassuming piano tune that meant to fill the silence before the beginning of the main concert. Soon the whole band must get on stage, but music was the last thing Rocky could think about at this moment.

“Come on, honey, spin around,” Mitzi encouraged Maura, clearly pleased with how the white, gold-embroidered dress fit her. “Isn't that nice? And it would finally stop gathering dust in the closet.”

Apparently, Miss M, who gave Maura one of her own evening dresses, really had high hopes for the girl. Rocky had already been over the moon when Miss M finally agreed to his entreaties to talk to Mau about working at Lackadaisy, and even more so when she decided to give Mau's talent a chance by bringing back gambling as an illegal activity in her establishment. And Mitzi's expectations paid off in spades. The resumption of liquor deliveries from the Arbogast Funeral Home, coupled with a new twist in the form of an “invincible female pool player”, has lured quite a few customers to Lackadaisy. For the first time since the days of Atlas May, the bar was running at some kind of profit rather than a loss. In every sense, it was a victory.

But right now, Rocky would have given anything to go back in time and knock the very idea of bringing Maura to Lackadaisy out of his own mind.

“It's a play, Rocky. Just a role. Otherwise these drunken high rollers wouldn't have the excitement, the desire to bet more and more, to keep competing with me. They like to think they can win not the game, but me, you know? Like a trophy. That's my job, to pretend it's really possible when it's not. Everything will be fine,” Mau assured him, furtively hugging him in the back room. He understood. After all, they needed money, needed desperately. Besides, how could he be upset about something so trivial? It would be ridiculous. After all, she still fell asleep beside him every morning. But the more time passed, the more unbearable he found the sight at the pool table, which he was forced to watch from the stage every damn night.

When Rocky felt a touch on his shoulder, he shuddered and hastily released the fabric of the curtain.

“Spit it out, kid,” Zib took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “Or you're gonna get hot steam coming out of your ears.”

Rocky hesitated. Then cracked a strained smile.

“I was just admiring the place, that's all… it's been a long time since we've had this much noise, hasn't it? Miss Pepper finally has someone to dance with when Freckle runs out of breath. Last time they—”

Zib hummed and leaned against the opposite wall. His grin alone made it clear that he wasn't buying this ridiculous attempt to change the subject. Pulling back the curtain a little, he stared out into the main hall for a while, listening more to the cheerful chatter of the crowd than to Rocky's continuing monologue.

“Don't tell her you're jealous. It'll make things worse.”

Zib's words caught Rocky by surprise, and it took him a lot of effort not to show his astonishment. He didn't know what had given him away, since he'd never been explicit about his relationship with Mau. Out of everyone, Freckle was the only one who knew for sure, and it seemed, according to her overly mischievous tone, that Miss Pepper had suspected something, too. And yet Zib had hit right on target — even without looking at Rocky, he knew he had. But though the poisonous feelings that had been overwhelming Rocky for a month now had eaten him almost to the core in the enforced silence, and though the opportunity to finally discuss it with someone seemed too tempting — he couldn't allow himself to open up. He just couldn't.

“Begorra, why would you even think that? To whom and who could I…”

“Zib,” Mitzi interrupted them, suddenly entering the backstage area. “One of the visitors wants to hear this,” she held out a double folded sheet of paper. “Tell the others. He paid well.”

When she left, Zib reluctantly unfolded the paper and then slipped it carelessly into his pocket. Despite the need to walk on the stage soon, he took his time, favoring an unfinished cigarette. With his fingertips he pulled the curtain aside again, revealing a thin golden strip of carefree revelry from their faded, half-empty backstage.

“You know, it's natural,” he took a puff, “To want the best for the ones you love,” the smoldering cigarette outlined the room. “But just consider it. Any of these men could give her everything that the likes of us, mired on the margins, could never give her. The freedom not to think about what to eat, where to sleep, and how to survive while the pockets are empty, not to choose between, let’s say, a new coat for the winter and a month's rent for some hellhole. And if someone can give the person you love freedom beyond your reach, it would be dirty to demand them to drop that chance for a better life, don't you think?”

Shaking the ashes to the floor, Zib again pulled out the now crumpled note that Mitzi had handed him and fell silent for a short while. He didn't open it this time, just studied the blank side of the note for a few seconds with a thoughtful, detached look. A look in which, for just a moment, flickered a glimpse of longing. His husky voice sounded almost otherworldly when he spoke:

“You're lucky if she chooses you anyway. Cherish it while you can.”

Completely stunned, Rocky remained silent. A thousand questions flashed through his mind, but he didn’t dare to voice any of them. Zib didn't just empathize with him, no — he knew. Knew like no other. The man, meanwhile, put out the cigarette butt and headed toward the back room where the band members usually had their rest.

“Get on stage. It's time to start.”

[phloww]

Q: Does Phlow drink?

A: Illicit beverages tend to give him hallucinations. There was that time Zib gave him a drink before a poker game and Phlow did not expect what happen next. 😲

Art drawn by 0ketlyn-s

[am-i-soup]

ROTTMNT OC

what if.... an oozesquito mutated?

meet mozzy! the result of that very scenario. they're confused about... pretty much everything. but they've got the spirit!

after getting drunk off a sweet-smelling cocktail, an inebriated oozesquito tried to bite a human through a bicycle helmet and accidentally threw up all its mutagen. as little cognition it had, the bug panicked - its one purpose is to bite something; it needs to - and tried to get the ooze back. then it started to grow.

with all these new thoughts and emotions, mozzy's just trying to get through each day without another shoe thrown at their head.

Donnie: "You didn't make your bugs immune to the ooze they're carrying?!?"

Draxum: "Well, I didn't think they would drink it!"

stop lookin' at me with them big ol' eyes

my 'squito reference

[noisettesgfandwifenojoke]

WHY AM I STARTING TO LIKE THISBSHIP AGAIN LEAVE ME ALOOONNNEEE 😭😭😭😭

@livemedown

Edit: stop liking this, this was meant to be a shitpost 😀

[average-amount-of-chaos]

Updated version of my sona Mozzie, now with glasses (since I now have glasses :D )

[justmwahstruly]

molly finally getting bitches/J

Cazzy belongs to my good friend (threatener) @kursein and Molly is mein!

babies… aawuugghsh they make me ill

[re-whump]

Augusnippets Day 3 - Thunderstorm

hey new character, they’re gonna stick around a bit, at least for this event! gotta get my size whump in

Contains: tiny whumpee (borrower), blunt force trauma, risk of hypothermia, loss of comfort belongings

At first, Mozzy assumed the heavy rumbling over their little shelter was a truck passing by on the highway overhead and didn’t bother to finish waking up. A truck would stay on the road, and was no particular threat, no matter how threatening it sounded. Mozzy sighed and tucked themself tighter into their hammock, listening instead to the gentle plink-plink-plink of the rain.

The storm refused to be ignored. All at once, the rumbling rolled into a bang loud enough to shake the ground, loud enough to make Mozzy flinch. The stones that made up the roof to their little shelter shifted and an icy stream dumped straight onto their head.

They sputtered and flailed, trying to shake themself free of the cold, and spilled out of the hammock into an ankle-deep pool that was just as frigid. A puddle outside had spilled through the entryway and flooded the small burrow. Mozzy gasped and dove for their journals, but it was much too late. The paper stacks were nothing but unreadable mush. They took stock of what was left and despaired. Half their food was soaked and m the slight current washing through their home had washed away most of their favorite trinkets. They whined to no one when they couldn’t find their prized Lego head.

Mozzy’s pant legs wicked up the water and they shivered. They had to leave. They hadn’t thought to waterproof a shelter made this late in the year and now it was thoroughly ruined. They’d just have to hope they had better luck in the nearby human building than they had in the last. They threw on their coat, gathered what they could from the wreckage, and abandoned the ruined shelter.

The world outside was even more dangerous. It wasn’t raining.

Mozzy had never seen hail before, not personally, and at first they didn’t recognize it. That was one of the downsides of only learning things secondhand by overhearing humans discuss them. This wasn’t falling frozen water, this was frozen hell. Chunks of ice the size of Mozzy’s fist swarmed the ground, first falling from the sky at debilitating speeds, then bouncing around off the stones Mozzy had just been hiding under.

The frozen pellets pelted the little smallfolk and, agile as Mozzy was, they barely made it a half a foot from the burrow before they made a retreat, cold and sore and bruised. They hugged their belongings close and backed into their flooded shelter, huddling in the driest corner for warmth. They wished there was someone else around to hold them and share their body heat, but they were alone.

The storm continued its deadly tantrum but eventually, the hail let up into rain and Mozzy sloshed back out to look for new shelter. The rain was relentless and kicked up a mist that made it impossible to see more than a few inches in front of them. They grit their teeth, rubbed at their bruises, and pushed forward. At least the mist wouldn’t kill them.

[reborrowing]

random facts about Mozzy because they’re taking up brainspace despite being created for chew toy whumpee event purposes

they like to Observe and record human behavior (and sometimes animals), their name is short for Mozzarella, they collect Lego when they can, and they believe they’re somehow part mouse? rat? because they’ve never seen another albino person, but they have seen albino rodents.

same pic again sorry

[faeriebreadconfetti]

trying out replicating the style again... it's mozzy time!

@sparklecarehospital

[majesticcorn2000]

Job In The City

[candyh0rns]

HI THERE!! 🧡

Have some doodles of mine!

I just love this sweethearts sm!!!💗

Also I luv Colin's blue/pink shirt like I would wear that definitely 😔