#rubbery man assistant

[waterlogged-detective]

i need to make darcy some type of doctors assistant to hold things during surgeries or write responses to potential customers that isnt condescending

[sanjisblackasswife]

i was wondering how would the monster trio react if they randomly got a boner and bro im SURE sanji’s cock twitches 47 times a day given the thoughts he constantly has 🙄🙄 zoro gets them while he sleeps so he waits for his dick to calm down before standing up,, people think he’s lazy but he’s just hard and doesn’t want anybody to know🤭🤭

luffy’s dick gets hard when he thinks about being the pirates king 😒😒

“𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕚𝕔𝕜 ���𝕖𝕥𝕤 ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕕 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕝𝕪”

All are very canon cuz i seen it for myself.

Ft. Zoro, Luffy, Sanji

Blk Fem! Reader in Mind

CW: Dick talk, established relationships because i wanna project and include myself😓

Luffy

When he gets hard it’s really rare and i feel like it’s partially because of his rubbery body….does that even make sense

He gets hard from very few things and they’re always so minuscule or random its hard to know if he’s actually turned on or if his body is just trynna be funny.

You once made him a dessert that you really wanted to try without the assistance of sanji and when Luffy ate it he not only fell in love with you, but loved the sweet pastry so much you noticed a tent grow in his shorts

Very shameless in the morning by the way.

Every man gets morning wood at least once a lifetime and when Luffy gets it

everybody knows.

“LUFFY PUT THAT THING AWAY?!”

“Calm down, Nami it’ll go down in a sec..😄”

Has been heard by the guys a few times with him jacking off late night when his hard on is just so bothersome.

“GO DO THAT SOMEWHERE ELSE—“

“OR GO SEE Y/N!”

“Dont wanna. Shes too far. Im almost done dont worry.”

Usopp ends up pissed the entire day.

His boners can ironically go down quickly if he eats meat.

You swear his dick has a mind of it’s own, all you did was tell him about how much higher his bounty would get after defeating Kaido and his dick started poking you in the back.

Now he is still a guy and guys also can be attracted to women so you being his girlfriend—you’re not necessarily excluded.

However he gets hard at the simplest things you do.

Taking his hat, Calling him captain, even play fighting with him he ends up getting hard so hopefully youre a good gf and willing to help him out when it happens😁

Zoro

He claims he can control his erections .

No he cannot.

If he’s in a relationship with you he’s more shy about letting you know about his dick problems because you dont want him to think hes a pervert.

He can’t control a damn thing his dick does which is why he blames you.

“I had more balance before I met you—“

“Wh—HELLO?”

“LOOK. WOMAN.”

All you did was hug him.

When he gets morning wood he is usually laying around a little longer. He has tried jacking off while in the room with the guys as they slept but he heard Luffy sleep walking (with his own hard on) and immediately just went back to sleep.

He very rarely does get hard though. However you plan to find out every single thing that turns him hard and so far you only found 2:

The first one is kissing, hes a touch starved man and you can never help yourself when it comes to locking lips with him. Your tongue wrapped around his, your hands on his chest and straddling him as he gropes your ass, he’s so needy it’s almost too cute to handle. and the look on his face when you feel him poke you is absolutely EVERYTHING.

The one that shocked you the most was when youre arguing with him. He doesnt know why he gets turned on by how mad you get whether it’s at him or someone else but the blood flow of his dick is damn near on fire. Maybe it’s because you have an accent when you speak fast, maybe it’s because it’s a rare occurrence, or maybe zoro is a freak. But seeing you so pent up and pissed makes his pants tight

Zoro getting hard consist of him being irritable, quiet, and trying to isolate himself until he or you fix the issue

Sanji

He’s always half hard.

Wanna know something else, his blood fits he has (the ones that didnt turn into a fucking plot point) are representing each time he gets hard.

Anyways though, he masturbates regularly. If he’s not cooking or out with the crew he is in the bathroom helping himself.

His hard ons are easy to spot because he’ll hide himself behind a counter with blush on his face or stand behind you.

He is shameless with his hardons only when you’re around.

He can get hard just by seeing you smile so have fun with that.

But he gets incredibly hard(and even easier) after you both have had sex before

If you all are on the deck and you wanna wear another thin ass bikini of course he is going to get hard. Thinking about the things he’d do to you if you just gave him the green light.

Which is also why Sanji stares at you a lot.

So he will come behind you and bury his face in your shoulder or neck whining.

You don’t mind it. It’s cute to see him rut up behind your ass, his accent slipping through .

“May we..go to your room please?”

If you say yes he will walk SUPER close behind you trying to hide his painful erection, mumbling small praises and thanks for you being so understanding.

He’s so grateful for you :(

[atombombkaytee]

My Echo, My Shadow and Me (Part 4)

Summary: Hancock and I retire to The Third Rail after a long day to find that it’s particularly busy. Still, we manage to find a quiet spot to indulge in heavy flirting, booze and chems. However, I notice a shadowy figure across the room - somehow, neither Hancock or I recognise the stranger (another ghoul). Hancock is keen to introduce himself but the sheer amount of intoxicants we’ve consumed could have the potential to lead to a very interesting evening.

Pairings: Hancock x Female OC/Reader, Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Female OC/Reader

Warnings: Heavy alcohol/drug use, public groping, smut, MMF threesome, anal, rough sex. [Notes: THIS CHAPTER IS FUCKING SPICY AND I ALMOST DIED AFTER WRITING IT]

(Part 1 here)

(Part 2 here)

(Part 3 here)

Part 4

With lightning speed, the ghoul’s leather-clad hands swiftly seize hold of my hips and he graciously assists me in shifting my groin against his pulsating cock. He forcefully drives into my mouth, almost knocking me off balance, engaging in a fervent struggle with my tongue nestled within the confines of my mouth.

A delicate caress of fingers tracing a path along my abdomen evokes a sensation that spreads throughout my entire body. Gradually, they venture beneath the fabric of my panties, prompting a sudden rush of wetness between my folds. The deliberate pressure applied to my sensitive clit by these mysterious touch-points threatens to push me over the edge into an instantaneous and powerful climax. I pause my interaction with the stranger to notice Hancock by our side, his hand positioned between us as we kiss, tantalizing my aching pussy. In his other hand, he holds his cock, subtly moving it within its sheath. As I eagerly fumble between us, I unfasten what's necessary to liberate the other man's swollen cock from his slacks. He appears starved for relief, perhaps having gone without such an opportunity for some time. He doesn’t exactly scream approachable. He’s grunting with impatience as he shuffles in spot to slide his trousers down his legs. His cock springs up from between his thighs, shimmering with silver droplets of pre-cum. He’s slightly smaller than Hancock, yet notably thicker. Similar to the rest of his body, the skin on his cock is browned and rubbery. The temptation to slam my hips down on him and have him fill me up is overwhelming, but I refrain in order to prolong the pleasure. In a fluid movement, I direct my arm to the right to secure Hancock in my grip. His cock is solid and unyielding and, just like the stranger, it's coated with a shiny film of pre-cum. I caress his shaft with practiced finesse, my hand glides skilfully up and down his entire length, applying delicate pressure to the sensitive tip every time I reach it. Simultaneously, I exploit the slickness and heat of my own arousal to seamlessly slide up and down the eager cock of the unfamiliar man, heightening the intensity of his desperation. The deep rumbles of pleasure emanating from both men are sufficient to reduce any sound-minded wastelander to a feral beast. Both men alternate between rolling their eyes and chewing at their lips, heads lolled back in a mixture of drunkenness and pleasure, indulging in the feeling of my teasing. I feel Hancock buck his hips in a ravenous attempt to feel more stimulated - and, suddenly, my teasing movements no longer seem fair.

Moving away from the ghoul's embrace, I eagerly approach my companion, filled with a strong desire to savour the taste of his drooling pre-cum. As he shuffles back, his shoulders finding support against the arm of the spacious couch, he entwines his fingers in my dishevelled ponytail. He nimbly guides my mouth downwards to envelop his cock. With a slow and deliberate motion, I move my tongue smoothly over the underside of his tip, playfully flicking it for a few seconds (mainly to relish the taste of his seeping arousal) before diving down to engulf him inside my throat.

Without delay, he employs his firm grasp on my hair to match the movement of my head simultaneously with the purposeful bucks of his hips. Deliberately, I take him deep into my throat, allowing my mouth to become filled with viscous saliva for him to make use of. Meanwhile, I detect the movement of the stranger as he shifts positions behind me. I am situated in the space between Hancock's legs, leaning forward - affording the ghoul an unobstructed view peering out from beneath my tiny skirt. I hear something thud on the floor to the side of us and presume that it’s an item of clothing, but I’m too wrapped up in Hancock to pay much mind.

I match my partner’s desperate movements. Applying just the right amount of suction and tongue movement inside my mouth to send rattles of pleasure heaving out from his mouth. At times, I extend my tongue outwards from the confines of my lower lip to tenderly lick at his swollen balls.

Abruptly, I feel the sudden sensation of rough fingers, cold to the touch, forcefully seize my hips. Even just grabbing me like this, the stranger applies enough pressure to my flesh to create lasting marks. Now bare, his hands search beneath my skirt, urgently seeking out the edge of my panties and proceeding to tear them from me with ease. I feel the night air sting my cunt and I hum around Hancock's member at just the anticipation of finally feeling something inside me.

I hear the stranger gruffly moan too, at the sight of my bare pussy. I can feel hot liquid, aching desperation, drooling from my eager hole. The ghoul's bony fingers firmly grasp both sides of my exposed cheeks, spreading them apart, to greedily plunge his face between them. His tongue meticulously delves into my folds. The way he is devouring me, as though he has been deprived of any sustenance, only serves to confirm my suspicions that this opportunity may not have presented itself to him recently.

His voracious tongue explores every inch of me, stopping only to flick at my aching clit, before retreating to my entrance where he pushes his tongue into me as deep as possible. In a brief moment of distraction, my focus wavers and I collide nose-first into Hancock's groin, his cock squeezing deeper down my gullet as I do. I release a cry of pleasure that is somewhat tempered by the cock in my throat. However, I imagine the oscillations of satisfaction resonating within me must feel delightful around him.

“That’s it, baby… does that feel good?”

With a gentle nudge, Hancock offers his encouragement by raising my chin ever so slightly, ensuring that our eyes meet once again amidst the intimate intrusion of the stranger's tongue. I muster a brief moment of self-possession, only to have it shattered when the ghoul manoeuvres his mouth upwards, tracing a delicate circle around my pink, exposed arsehole.

Sensitively skirting the edges before delving in, he vigorously presses his tongue into my hole, mimicking the fervent thrusts he delivered to my pussy. While maintaining his hold on my soft flesh with one hand to keep my arse spread, his other hand descends towards my cunt, where he firmly pushes two fingers deep inside me. As a result of my significant arousal, they easily slide inside me. He expertly coordinates the movement of his fingers and his tongue in perfect synchronization.

It’s almost immediately that I feel the familiar build of orgasm deep within my belly. Recognizing the absolute necessity to vocalize my rapture, I finally retract my mouth from my companion's cock to release a screech that seems otherworldly. Hancock persists in holding my head steady, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him. His cock twitches, sodden with my saliva.

“I bet his tongue feels good, doesn't it, dollface? Are you going to cum for us?”

He grips the base of his spit-covered cock with his spare hand to slap it against my face repeatedly - aware that I’m too predisposed to take him back in my mouth, right now. My pussy begins to clench around the stranger’s fingers as the shockwave of pleasure takes over my entire body. The ghoul’s firm grip on the flesh of my backside is all that’s keeping my body from collapsing.

“You like having two old ghouls just using your soft little body, huh?” With a lustful gaze, Hancock coos in delight. He bites hard at his lip while he revels in the sight of his dripping cock bouncing off my face, my expression twisted and my eyes swirling in ecstasy. I’m almost certain that I feel the stranger huff a small laugh at Hancock’s remark, leading him to subtly move away from me as he recognizes that my intense climax has come to an end.

“You gonna let me get in on some of that?” The ghoul drawls, referencing Hancock’s incessant slapping against my blushing cheeks and swollen lips.

“She’s a well-trained little smoothskin, ain’t she?” Sitting back on the sofa, his erection achingly solid between his thighs, he takes it upon himself to lead the situation now. I can sense his satisfaction from the small smirk that curled on his lips - knowing that he's already bought me to orgasm using his tongue and fingers alone.

With only a taste of teasing so far, he's growing increasingly impatient, desperate for a heightened sense of stimulation around his cock. Employing his knee with a swift and deliberate motion, he shoves me down onto the carpeted floor, effectively distancing me from Hancock's member. I fall with a thud onto my knees but immediately regain composure, positioning myself in front of the stranger - eye level with his cock. Commandingly, he grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging me towards him in a manner that echoes the actions of Hancock just a short time earlier.

With my mouth wrapped around him, I quickly pinpoint two distinct and unfamiliar characteristics. The impressive length of Hancock makes a striking impression, however, he's slender enough to glide easily into my gullet, in the deepest confines of my throat. In comparison, I am struck by the considerable weight and girth of the stranger's cock. His sheer bulk puts a strain on my jaw, requiring me to open my mouth much wider to accommodate his size. I'm relieved, however, that I can still touch my lips to the very root of his shaft, as he is not quite as elongated as the ghoul with whom I am more intimately acquainted.

Secondly, his pre-cum has a curious flavour - there's a sour note to it that I've never encountered with any other human, nor Hancock, before this point. It briefly crosses my mind whether he could very likely be a pre-war ghoul. He might be well past two centuries old and heavily exposed to radiation.

Like precise machinery, Hancock appears to anticipate my thoughts. I sense his proximity so I withdraw from the stranger, ready to attend to Hancock once more. He tucks a small tablet inside my cheek with his thumb before thrusting back into my mouth - most likely rad-x. Something about that concept (having to medicate just to be safe from their cum) triggers a visceral response within me, causing my excitement to exude from between my thighs as I squirm in place.

“Is that pretty little pussy gettin’ ready to cum again?”

The stranger’s drawl is soft and comforting, prompting me to lean back into his lap again. Indecision grips me as I find myself torn between desires for each man's intimacy. The men lightly tussle over me, their fingers tangled in my hair as they take turns guiding me from one to the other. A heady mix of arousal and alcohol renders my mind hazy, while the realization that I am being used as an object further blurs my ability to think straight. Surrendering to this experience, I allow myself to be shifted from one man to the next, savouring the distinct flavour of each of them.

Neither of them seem to notice my inability to speak, happily taking advantage of my mouth for their satisfaction. They each buck their hips ravenously into my throat until a grunt escapes from deep within their chest, threatening to cross the brink of orgasm, and so halting to allow the other man to have his time between my expert lips. I flick my eyes between each of their hungry gazes, as drool spills down my chin, running past the men’s cocks and coating both of their balls with slobber.

By this point, my wetness has made the inside of my thighs slick and a tiny puddle of silver has formed between my knees. While I continue to pleasure the stranger's manhood with my mouth, Hancock stands up and effortlessly lifts my small frame to place me over the arm of the chair. I readjust my technique, so caught up in the ghoul’s rumbling groans as I work his cock that I barely even notice Hancock moving me.

That quickly changes when my companion pushes his hard length between my folds with one smooth movement. The sensation of fullness against my inner walls makes me lift my mouth from the stranger to call out, tears of joy filling the corners of my eyes and threatening to spill down my face. Selfishly, he doesn’t allow me to savour the moment for long, ushering my lips back onto his arousal once more - while Hancock commences a steady and rhythmic motion of his hips against my backside.

The position that he’s placed me in over the arm of the sofa means that he’s pressing against my G-spot perfectly with every thrust - this man knows my body so well. His solid tip nudging against that sweet spot leaves me battling to not be thrown straight back into another orgasm.

My ability to suck the other man’s cock all but disappears as my lover determinedly slides in and out of my cunt, my juices fill the quiet room with a delightful squelch as they spill out around him. Unperturbed by the fact that I’ve collapsed on his lap, the ghoul still bucks clumsily into my unresponsive mouth, slipping inside my cheeks instead of my throat but appreciating the grip around his cock, regardless.

My mindlessness reaches its peak when Hancock attentively parts my cheeks once more. In between his deep strokes, he utilizes his thumb to apply pressure against my other hole until it gently pops inside me. Partially, Hancock took notice of the stranger fucking my arse with his tongue - how profoundly I had reached my climax - and was filled with desire to achieve the same outcome himself.

It works. My eyes spring back into my skull as an intense wave of orgasm rolls over my body for the second time. My entire body convulses; something that my other partner is sure to also make use of, with his cock still embraced by my saliva-filled mouth. Noticing my trembling body, he too reaches towards Hancock's intentional strokes and assists him by holding open the other side of my fleshy backside, allowing Hancock to press his thumb into me even deeper.

I feel worryingly like I might pass out. I teeter on the edge of consciousness as my body writhes with orgasm. I’m confident that at least one of the men in my company would be gentlemanly enough to discontinue - should that happen. Happily, though, the stars in my eyes slowly lift and I’m greeted by the musty smell of the stranger’s duster jacket and the sensation of dampness around my face and hair from my own thick drool.

“Messy little thing, aren’t ya darling?”

The stranger chuckles. He shuffles his body further towards my backside to also press a slender finger into my arsehole, alongside Hancock’s thumb. They exchange a brief and knowing glance. Now that reality has started to reform, I can observe this subtle interaction enough to understand the notion of what they may be thinking. My heart flutters. An unfamiliar mixture of excitement and fear.

I tentatively shuffle off the arm of the sofa when I feel Hancock retract his cock from me. The skin looks shiny and raw from fucking. I'm completely disoriented with no concept of how much time has elapsed since we’ve been here. My mind is consumed entirely by a combination of chems and pure bliss, leaving no space for anything else at this moment.

[the-amber-raven]

911 fic prompt: buck and bobby's father son dynamic growth shown through text messages.

So I don't normally take requests, and this one felt like it would be kind of similar to my performance review fic...

And then the muse decided that it apparently wanted a break from the other WIPs I've got going on and, uh, I wrote like 1600 words worth of text messages today?!

Have a snippet:

[Sent 11:30] Picture attached (A tupperware container of a stir fried rice with large pieces of chicken in the corner. One of the chicken pieces has a large white spot). 

Hey Bobby sorry to bother you on your day off… but can you tell if this is safe to eat if I throw out that one piece of chicken? The internet is divided as to whether it will kill me or make me sick or do absolutely nothing. 

[Sent 11:44] There is an option that it might kill you and that isn’t enough for you to say it probably isn’t worth it?!

[Sent 11:46] Does that mean you agree with that half of the internet?

[Sent 11:47] Do not eat anything in that container Buck. 

Even if it doesn’t kill you I don’t think any of us will enjoy the experience if you’re dealing with food poisoning at the station tomorrow. 

[Sent 11:48] 😢

Guess it’ll be yesterday’s pizza for breakfast after all.

Thanks for the assist Bobby. 

[Sent 11:52] Why are you eating breakfast at midday? 

Never mind. Why don’t you have cereal or eggs to make yourself breakfast?

[Sent 11:59] So I might have set off the fire alarm the last time I made eggs…

Figured ‘local firefighter burns house down with breakfast’ would not be a headline the LAFD would appreciate. 

And also I don’t know what you do but my eggs always end up rubbery anyway 😟

[Sent 14:22] Get to the station at 8 tomorrow.

[Sent 14:29] ??

I thought our shift started at 9?

[Sent 14:50] It does. You’re getting there early so I can teach you how to make scrambled eggs so that you aren’t relying on questionable leftovers for breakfast. 

–

[Sent 09:41] Hi Buck, it looks like HR never got your amendment with your emergency contact details. Can you make sure to send it ASAP? 

And by ASAP I mean before the end of the work day or you’ll need to be man behind for tomorrow’s shift until we get the paperwork sorted. 

[Draft saved 10:27 – message not sent] What do I do if I don’t have an emergency contact? 

[Sent 16:46] I just sent it. 

[Sent 16:49] Pretty close to the wire there kid. 

[Sent 16:50] Sorry.

[v-bee-lilac]

it towers above into the bloodstained distance lightning in its jaw as it bares its teeth at another in the distance, crackling with wasted energy, legs groaning with effort as it writhes against scarlet bonds from the earth. a creature, trapped. a monolith, bound. a modern tower of babel, lights aglow like stars in the endless red of the sky.

the air crackles with caged lightning. wasted, but beautiful, like fireworks before the long night soaring into black before bursting in a gorey shower of sparks. the machine purrs under my hands, servos groaning at the minute sensation that still registers to sensors meant to track every last human on board, even on the back of a beast the size of a human to a fly, metal not even able to twitch at the touch of a fly it is kind enough to not swat.

and it could swat: every last inch of it is peppered with weaponry, a thousand sights could be trained on me before i could even realise. but it does not. it lets me rest my hand on a petty few centimeters of its flank, to feel the vibrations of its every movement through my own flesh.

i know this, deep as the marrow in my bones:

it lives.

and it wants.

war-ready metal does not pry apart easily, even with the assistance of hammer and screwdriver, but i am determined: skin will be pried away even no matter how much it takes. no security system is activated as i drive the head of the screwdriver beneath metal plating with a hammer; no turret comes to life with me in its sights as my hands peel away the skin one i have enough for a handhold.

it wants this. it want this as much as i want to do it, to be peeled apart, laid open beneath loving hands that will worship every bloodied piece like the frayed threads of god itself.

the skin is tossed aside, a shell outgrown as it clatters to the grating behind me, something to be - not forgotten, but honoured, remembered for what is was part of and preserved.

but what it preserved, what it hid: a rainbow of wires, live nerves liable to set every last fibre of my own alike with a misplaved touch. the rubbery, pumping hydraulics like the vessels of a heart the size of a room. deeper, deeper still, the warm metal muscles beneath, bound by hellish roots in the earth and yet still twitching, jumping, desperate to carve furrows into the ground and charge for its foe.

every inch of it is beautiful - no, just the tiny piece ive been allowed to see is a beauty greater than any mortal masterpiece. what is the mother and child to the tapestry beneath my fingers? what is the coming of aphrodite to the machine that looms above me, a towering monument to man's greatest war that carried the last refuges of humanity on its back as it walked almost-eternal in the sun?

a hydraulic tube pulses as the leg im standing on twitches, grinding motors above and below as it helplessly tries to force itself free. as if my possessed i reach out, one hand wrapping around the pulsing vein before me and squeezing ever so slightly - too little strength to constrict, but enough to feel the liquid move under my fingers. alive. blood, rushing through vessels as the machine vents hot air and howls fury at its fellow in the distance.

it lives. it lives.

[therapardalis]

[Drunk Meme from @bothsidesofaquestion.]

— “You’re the best. D’you know that?” ( for what is worth, Kurt also thinks you're the best when is sober too, Thera! ) [Awwww!] ------------

"That's what I keep telling everyone!" Thera gives a click of her tongue.

Hyperflexible joints and exquisitely trained musculature make Kurt even more 'rubbery' than the alcohol he's consumed might usually do, and it's a little like steering an inflatable waving-man as she guides him toward the car.

It's not like her to agree with that sort of description, but she figures he probably won't remember it next morning anyhow. She's also not letting him teleport anywhere in this condition, he'll end up upside-down in the Statue of Liberty or something. But since it's their meeting for him to thank her for her previous assist that's brought them here, the least she can do is drive him home. Though not, of course, without a little teasing.

"This, to quote Han Solo," Her free hand pokes him lightly in the chest, "is two you owe me, junior."

[warabola]

All of them 🦑 !!!! (Or any of them you want if you don’t wanna do them all C:)

All of them, natch!

Ask Game

🦑 — Would they kiss a Rubbery Man?

The Intemperate Director would try anything once. Or, knowing their luck, somehow end up in a situation that required it-- much like the violant bat, the maggot prince, the priests--

The Indefatigable Doctor, well,

Their closest companion and partner-in-amber is the Squirming Reprobate. So yes, I'd say they would.

The Silvered Assistant might do so platonically, out of fondness or as a friend. She regularly turns down most advances in the Bohemian circuits though, and regularly uses her marriage as an excuse. Not that anyone's seen her husband.

The Heedless Novice absolutely would not. Her? Have you seen her? Depending on the company, she would spin some illusion of Anglican chastity and act demure to keep her reputation intact. But she barely even tolerates the Tentacled Entrepreneur because of his connections (as well as as means of navigating debt for the Railway without having to pay anything herself).

[sonderwrit]

C98: Familiar faces

I Have to Be a Great Villain - Masterpost

X grows up and forcibly gives Wang Yi a bad(?) case of deja vu.

Wang Yi: MERMAN!

WY: You can read hearts*?

*basically, "read minds"

WY: (Qin Xian, can you remember now?)

WY: (I'm Wang Yi.)

WY: (I'm planning to fulfill my promise to you in this world)

WY: (I won't leave anymore.)

Merman: …..

Merman: *sticks to heroine*

WY: (???)

Xiao Yu: Eh?

WY: (No reaction?)

WY: (Maybe he can't read? Or he hasn't recovered his memory fragments like the last Qin Xian, so he only feels at peace in front of Xiao Yu?)

Slime: … …

Slime: Human seems to be very worried…

Slime: Is it because…X can't read his heart?

WY: (That's not right…)

WY: (It's only normal for the main character to ignore the villainous side character.)

WY: (In the previous two worlds, my role interacted with the male lead much earlier, so I actually took on the heroine's scenes. But it's different here.)

WY: (Dr. Wang likes to shut himself up in his lab and doesn't interact much with the mermaid, so there's no chance of getting in his good graces like the past. Thus, it's natural for the male lead to like the heroine first and ignore me.)

WY: Heheh…

WY: Hehehe—

WY: (It's a good thing. The plot's finally back on track without sweeping me up into the mess of human emotions.)

WY: (Freedom forever! The protagonists' world is finally leaving the pitiful villain alone!)

WY: Hahaha! Heheheh! HAHAHAH!

Xiao Yu: (So scary, what's Dr. Wang laughing about…. QAQ)

XY: That there, look. 

XY: He's asking me why you're so happy? Although your expressions didn't show anything, he still knows [your feelings].

WY: Mm, looks like there's still a lot of research value in this mermaid.

WY: Since Assistant Xiao can control it, then it'll be a cinch to get some blood and flesh for samples too, right?

XY: !

XY: I, I'll do my best.

XY: But…are you okay?

XY: Do you feel uncomfortable, why do you look—

XY: —like you're about to cry?

WY: It's fine, I'm just excited from new discoveries. If you can deliver the samples by tomorrow, I'll count you as one of the staff once I get some research results. (You've earned merit)

XY: Oh! (Did I say something wrong again)

XY: Th-thank you, Dr. Wang—!

Slime: Hm?

Slime: Human is so sad…

Slime: Why…would he be sad?

—

Slime: *slide slide*

Slime: Hu, man.

WY: ….

Slime: Don't be, sad. X, likes you.

WY: ….

WY: …what does a little alien like you understand anyways.

WY: (Rather, it's me who doesn't understand what I'm thinking.)

WY: (It's normal for the hero and heroine's relationship to be smooth sailing, so what's with this disappointment?)

WY: (Is it just OCD because I can't fulfill the promise?)

*burrow burrow*

WY: ?

WY: What are you doing?

Slime: Um, sorry. X can't see Human's heart.

Slime: But X doesn't want Human to be sad.

Slime: So—I can only let Human see my heart instead.

WY: WTH! LET GO! (What the hell is this!)

[An imitation of a heart]

WY: IF SOMEONE ELSE SEES THEY'LL THINK I'M ABUSING A CHILD!

Slime: I already said this is just an outer shell.

Slime: It can—change at any time.

WY: ?!!

WY: (UH….?)

Slime: How is it?

Slime: Does human prefer getting close to—a body like this one?

WY: I have no intentions of getting your heart.

WY: (X turned into…an adult male?)

WY: Mind-reading is a fantastical thing, it's not like taking out someone's heart to read it literally…

WY: (The inside of his body feels so weird…it's a bit like jelly, but more rubbery.)

*tugs hand*

WY: Aish, but it doesn't matter now, forget it. (Qin Xian is the male lead, you're just a "lifeform" beyond humanity.)

Slime: Uf, X won't forget things. Does Human not like…the form of this shell?

Slime: (It's so warm being touched inside.)

WY: Are you a real fool or just faking it?

Slime: (Huh? Warmth?)

Slime: I can also change to other shapes: youth, middle-aged, old-aged, or if the gender's wrong…

Slime: (When was X able to feel things like warmth?)

Slime: Male, female, hermaphrodite, α (Alpha)...

WY: It's sounding more and more ridiculous. Please keep your current form and I'll tell you if I have any requirements.

WY: (My refusal sounded so uncertain!) *slaps self*

Slime: Aohh. *nods*

WY: (Wait…)

WY: (I didn't look closely just then, but after calming down I feel…like his face is kinda familiar?) [As if I've seen it somewhere before.]

WY: *SHOCK* (?!)

WY: (Yes, I've seen it!)

WY: (He's a complete fusion of Qin Xian(!) and Qin Xian(2)!)

*SLAP GRABS*

WY: WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY ARE YOU USING—THEIR FACES?!

Slime: ?

—

Mini-Theater:Slime (quietly): Do you want to see the other slime body become Qin Xian(2) and join Qin Xian(1) to sandwich Wang Yi?

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

tiny bit of writing today!

“I like your place,” Harrison says, pinching the ceramic kitten that sits on the coffee table. This isn’t a lie unlike everything else he’s told them—his name is Harold Fraser, and the number Sadie dialed into their home phone is his personal assistant’s, not his mother’s. In here, the walls are tangelo orange, each entryway arched instead of severely right-angled. Suz would like the warm wood, the army of rubbery philodendrons on the windowsills. Harrison cranes his finger up the kitten’s paw, as if shaking its hand. Across its domed belly, translucent letters: JESUS IS STILL THE ANSWER.

“Don’t break that,” says the man, whose name is actually Nash Baker.

Harrison quirks a brow, his mouth twitchy. In five minutes, he’ll need another cigarette. “Family heirloom?”

From BODY BACK!

[jolienjoyswriting]

Purrsuing Pawsibilities (ft. Nane Mau), Ch. II

Chapter 2 of 5 for "Purrsuing Pawsibilities," an I Was a Teenage Monster fan fiction story.

Mau meets the sub and her aide, a fox named Joseph.  Awkward flirtations ensue.

Word count: 3,659 — Character count: 21,406 Drafted: September 14th / 15th / 18th / 25th, 2024 Revised: September 25th / 27th–29th, 2024 —

And here it is, the "terrible" aspect of my fan fiction story: the shameless self-insert! Better hope Mau doesn't learn how to dimension-hop.  She'd destroy Joseph if she knew what a trans-dimensional hussy he is~

Also, yes, Kris is another OC. Not a self-insert, but also not a character I use in these fan fics very often. But, her role pretty much mirrors her canon role, so. (As does Joseph's, more or less!)

Nane Mau, Amy Ravenblood, Azra, Kendall Merton, Dimitri Graaf, and "I Was a Teenage Monster" series and related characters and concepts created by and © joshdamn23 Kristian Sanders, Joseph Lithius, and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li KMC

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ] —

    Mau headed out of her classroom and right to the cafeteria.  She was often at the front of the line.  The food at Bellville High was nothing to write home about.  It was practically a step or two up from slop, some days.  But, hey.  It was food that she didn't have to pay for, so she tolerated the taste to fill her belly guilt-free!  As she sat at her usual table, she was soon joined by the wolfman counselor from earlier, as well as two new faces.

    "Mau!  Hey, I figured I’d find you here!" he exclaimed.  "Have you met the sub and her assistant yet?"     "Nrt yrt," she answered, her mouth full of what was allegedly Salisbury steak.  She swallowed the wad of rubbery, meat-like material and asked, "Are these two those two?"     "Yeah!"  The man laughed.  "Guys?  This is Nane Mau.  Mau?  Let me introduce you to Ms. Kristian Sanders…"     A well-dressed she-fox offered a friendly smile, politely bowing from across the table.     "And her brother—"     "We are not related," Kristian corrected.     "Ah— sorry!"  Dimitri laughed.  "And her friend and assistant, Mr. Joseph Lithius!"     A male fox with olive-gold fur quietly waved at Mau.  "Hey."     Mau paused her eating, waved back, and finally looked the pair over.

Kristian was a lady of average height and build.  Her visible fur was orange-brown with white secondary colors and her hair was long and royal blue with unkempt bangs worn in a low ponytail.  She also had mismatched eyes — one green, one blue.  She was dressed in a purple business-style suit with matching heels and a pink blouse.  Mau thought she looked kind of nice. I wonder if I could pull off a more ‘business’ look…? Her attention then turned to Joseph.  Like Kristian, he had a fairly average build and height with white secondary fur.  Unlike her, he was a shade of amber.  Gold, half-closed eyes looked through rectangular glasses and his hair was short with three pointy, white-tipped quills for bangs.  He, too, was a little “overdressed”, wearing black dress slacks and a dark green turtleneck sweater.  Maybe they both wanted to make a good first impression?

    "Not bad."     "Pardon?"     Mau paused…  Joseph was giving her a funny look.     D-did I say that out loud? she asked herself, eyes widening.     "I believe she said 'not bad'," Kristian answered.  "I suppose we meet her approval."     "Oh."  The male fox smiled.  "Well, thank you?  Uh, you're not bad, either?"     "I-I'm not?"     A smile formed on Mau's face.  She put down her spork and reached up, playing with some of her shoulder-length hair in a girlish way.     "So, heeey… you're not, like, dating anyone right now, are you?  'Caaause…"     He blanched.  "S-sorry?"     "I believe she is attempting to flirt with you, Joseph."     Joseph blushed, looking up at Kristian.  He then looked back toward Mau… who was doing her best imitation of a dopey, giggling kind of girl.  She was doing a poor job of it…

    "Aaanyway…"  Dimitri awkwardly cut in, drawing everyone's attention.  "Now that we're all acquainted, I just want you both to know that if you need anything, you can count on me or Mau to help out!"     "Wait— what?"     Mau snapped out of her flirtatious state and looked over at her associate.     "Here at Bellville High," he continued as he looked at the sub and her aide, "we like to think of ourselves as one big happy family!  Though you might not be here for long, let me just say that we're very happy to have you with us, Ms. Sanders and Mr. Lithius!"     "Thank you very much," Kristian answered in her usual mellow tone, nodding.  "With that sentiment in mind, feel free to address me more casually, Mr. Garrf."     "What she said," Joseph added with a chuckle.     "Alright."  The wolfman nodded.  "You can call me 'Dimitri', incidentally — or 'Tri'!"     "Just don't call him 'Dim'," Mau interjected with a wide grin.  "He hates that."     Dimitri offered an embarrassed laugh before asking, "How do 'Kris' and 'Joe' sound?"     Kristian smiled, nodding her approval.  Joseph offered a thumbs-up, too.     "Right on!"  The wolfman stepped away from the table, warmly smiling.  "So, Kris?  Joe?  Shall we continue our tour of the school?"     "Actually," Kristian answered, "I should organize my notes for the next class.  I make a point of learning the names of my students wherever I teach, and I would like to associate faces with names.  Tomorrow, perhaps?"     "Fair enough!" he laughed.  "Maybe after school, even?"     "I would not wish to interrupt any extracurricular activities by wandering the halls without aim," she politely commented.  "Tomorrow morning would be ideal, however."     "It's a date!"     When she frowned, the werewolf paused, nervously laughing.     "I… I meant that in a neighborly way!" he assured the pair.     Kristian smiled again, nodding in understanding.  "Noted.  Thank you."

    "What about you, Joe?"     "What?"     Joseph hadn't been paying attention.  He'd turned his attention back to Mau who, rather than continue to flirt with him, was shoveling food into her face again.     "Oh, uh… sure," he idly answered, too distracted to look away.  "I'll be there with Kris tomorrow, I guess?"     "Great!"  The wolfman clapped his hands.  "In the meantime and on behalf of Bellville High: we sincerely hope you enjoy your time teaching here, and have a wonderful day!"

    With the brief tour — or whatever it was — over, the wolfman and Kristian wandered off.  Joseph, on the other hand, stuck around, even sitting on the bench at Mau's table.  He was absolutely fascinated by how efficiently she was chewing through some unappealing, gray thing that looked almost like meat.  Also on the tray was some loose, white texture.  Mashed potatoes, maybe?  Both were covered by a sludge-like gravy that looked more green than brown.  It was, overall, quite gnarly to look at.  Yet, she was managing it without so much as a hiccup…

    "Good lord…" Joseph eventually began.  "The last school Kris subbed at had some bad food, but this… How can you eat that stuff…?"     "Practice!" she answered between bites, grinning proudly.     "Is this even food?  What is it?"     "Salisbury steak!"     "S-Salisbury steak?!"     Mau nodded with excitement.  She then cut a piece off the alleged "steak" — which took longer than expected due to how tough it was — and offered it to him.     "Want?"     Joseph's ears curled back.  "I…"  He was trying not to look offended…     "Pilot to base, pilot to base!" the cat said into a closed hand.  "I'm coming in for a landing!  Open the hatch and lemme in!"     This strange action got a confused blink from the fox.  What was she doing…?  Hesitantly, he opened his mouth for her… and got a fork down his gullet, covered in the gray material and brown sauce.  The taste was… something.

    As Joseph's face turned colors, Mau propped her head up on both hands, looking dainty and playful.  "Penny for your thoughts?" she prompted with a grin.     "I think I'm gonna die…" was her new friend's response.     "Oh, c'mon…" she scoffed, gesturing his way.  "It's not that bad!"     Joseph covered his mouth, retching.  He huffed, wheezed, and shuddered.  Then…     "Needs salt."     He sat right back up with a big, cheerful smile, looking completely unfazed.     Mau sat in awe for several seconds, blankly staring.  Then…     "Bwaaaaah ha ha ha haaaaa—!!"     She completely came undone!

    Joseph looked around, ears perked and fur bristling as across from him, the cat lady reared back, swayed, wrenched, flopped on the table, and laughed as absolutely hard as he'd ever seen anyone laugh!  It was… disturbing.

    "Needs… salt…!" she wheezed, pounding her fist on the table as she continued laughing.  "After all that…!!  Oh, my gaawwwds…!"     Mau clawed at the table, driving small ruts into its already tarnished surface.  She couldn't seem to stop laughing!  And, unfortunately… it was drawing attention.  At least, that's what Joseph thought…     On a second glance around, Joseph noticed that everyone who had looked over when the ruckus started had seemingly lost attention.  Even as she continued to rattle the entire table with her fists and kicked his shins in the throes of convulsing laughter, it didn't seem like anyone really cared.  Was this just par the course for that teacher?

    After a good five minutes of demented laughter, Mau finally calmed down.  Her eyes were red and cracked, and her eye makeup had run down her cheeks, staining them slightly black.  More than that, though, she was all smiles.     "Good gravy, that was funny!" she said between pants.  "'Needs salt'…"     She paused, covering her mouth.  It almost seemed like she'd fall into another fit of uncontrolled guffaws.  However, she reigned it in and continued to calm herself.

    "Oooooh…  My sides hurt," she told Joseph, still brightly smiling.  "I guess you could say that was a… side-splitting joke!"     And once again, she burst into laughter.  Luckily, this bout was much more controlled.     "Ah…  You're fun, Joe."     Mau grinned and leaned over, putting her chin on her folded hands again… only this time, she'd put her elbows into her food.  Joseph noted that either she hadn't noticed, or simply didn't care.

    "Hey, I have an idea!" she said.  "Why don't we meet up for coffee later?  Your treat!"     Joseph blinked.  "M— my treat?"     "Aww, you're too kind!"     Mau laughed again.     "Meet me in the front hallway after school, alright?" She offered a little grin as she stood from her seat.  "Don't be late!  I'll hunt you down!"     "Excuse m—?!"     "Kidding!  Or, am I?"  The lady winked.  "Only one way to find out…"     With a girlish giggle, she picked up her tray and walked over to the trash can near the door.  There, she dumped her food off… only to freak out.     "Why did I do that— I wasn't done eating…!"     Embarrassingly, she reached into the trash receptacle, trying to retrieve her half-eaten Salisbury steak.  At least, it should have been embarrassing.  As Joseph noticed from his seat, though… the girl didn't seem the least bit bothered to raid the school garbage.  He had some thoughts about that, in particular… but more than anything, he had to wonder one thing:

    "Just what have I gotten myself into…?" —

    To say that Mau felt distracted the rest of the afternoon was an understatement.  While normally at least somewhat invested in educating her class, this time, it was pretty clear her focus was elsewhere — specifically, on that clock.

    "Uh…  Ms. Mau?"

    A student spoke up from the front of the class during the next-to-last period.  It was the pale-skinned and very sweet vampire lady, Amy Ravenblood.

    "Shouldn't… we be learning about the Mayan ruins, Ms. Mau?" she asked.     "Shh!"     Another student — the punk demon known as Azra — sharply hushed Amy.     "Leave it, Lee.  Ain't every day we get ta goof off in class 'n not get called for it!"     "I dunno, Azzie…"  Amy frowned a little.  "We're in school to learn, right?  Shouldn't we be, I dunno, learning?"     Azra kicked back in her seat, putting her feet on the desk.  She pulled out a music player and a pair of headphones, slipping the latter on with a grin.     "If she doesn't wanna teach class, then let's just lay back 'n enjoy the ride…"     "I… I think Lee's right, A-Azra."     Another student — a fidgety swamp creature with lizard-like features — spoke up, trying to get Azra's attention.     "Th-this is school," he said, "and um… we sh-should be learning…"     "Cram it, Kendall," Azra replied, causing him to wince.  "Here comes the best part!"     Both Amy and Kendall watched as Azra leaped up and stood on her desk, playing an energetic riff on air guitar, presumably matching whatever music she was listening to.  The pair looked at each other, then after another moment, they looked around the classroom.

    As expected, none of the other students seemed too fussed about Ms. Mau's disinterest in teaching.  In fact, they were utilizing their newfound free time very wisely.  For example, Shelly was continuing work on her "ultimate sports drink", clearly very eager to stay out of gym class.  The ever-stylish gorgon lady, Chloe, was painting her nails and the spunky werewolf girl, Mara, was taking some time to "tag" her desk with her sharp claws.  Others were doing similar tasks to pass the time, enjoying the impromptu "free period".  In the end, it seemed unlikely that Ms. Mau was going to be teaching much of anything that day… so, Kendall and Amy shrugged at each other before the two decided to study independently.

    One more class passed before the 3:30 PM bell rang.  While it wasn't unusual for Mau to bail as soon as she heard that sound, she could usually be seen making a break for the main doors.  On this day, however, she could be seen idling in the hallway leading outside.  The principal took a vested interest in this proactive behavior, commending her on "setting a good example for the hall monitors".  Mau was definitely keeping a vigil… but not for any unusual student activity.  No, she was on the lookout for one person… and in her mind, they were late.

    Did he stand me up? she thought as she kept waiting for her prospective date.  Maybe he had other plans…  What if he's got a date with that girl?!  Wait, no, that's gross.  They're brother and sister, right?     She thought about it for a second, but ultimately couldn't remember.     Oh, whatever!  I'll just go find him!     With her mind made up, the history teacher walked back through the halls and quickly found her way to the English classrooms.

    Mau looked around at the various rooms marked for English classes.  There was, of course, one for each of the grade levels of Bellville High.  However…     Now, which one is her classroom…?  Did she say which grade she taught?     She didn't know which one was the right one.     What if she teaches them all?  That's a thing foxes do, right?  Duplication tricks?  Renée went on and on about that one animes starring the ninja fox…  Oh, I wish I'd paid more attention, now…  I mean, who knew animes were true to life?

    She continued to look around, pondering her options and whether or not Kristian could duplicate herself.  Just as she finally decided on which room to try first, though… "Yes, yes, I shall return momentarily, Joseph…"     One of the doors opened, revealing the properly dressed form of one Kristian Sanders.

    "Oh, hey!" Mau greeted with a wave.  "You're Kris, right?"     "Oh."  Kristian smiled.  "Hello again, Miss Mau.  What can I do for you?"     Mau tried to get a look around Kristian, but the substitute teacher was blocking the way.     "Is Joe in there?" she asked impatiently.  "We have a date we need to get to!"     The formal she-fox's face soured slightly.  "Do you, now?  I was not aware."     Slowly, she opened the door wider and stepped aside.     "Joseph," she called.  "You have a visitor.  I shall return."     With that, Kristian stepped away, letting the door close behind Mau as she scurried in.

    "Hey, Joe!" the feline chimed to the male fox sitting behind the teacher's desk.     "What…?"  His ears perked and he looked up.  "Oh!  Oh, hey, Ms. Mau.  Uh, listen…"     "Call me 'Mau'!  Or 'Nane'," she interrupted, padding over to him.  "Whatever floats your boat!  Sooo… whatcha doin'?"     "I'm grading papers…" Joseph answered, sounding a little irritated.  "Don't you have papers to grade, too?"     "Pfft, no!" was the cat's almost flippant answer.  "I wait 'til I get home to do that!"     "Yeah, well…"  The fox looked back at the papers in front of him.  "Kris doesn't work that way.  And since I'm her aide and all, she makes me grade some papers, too."     "That's rough, buddy."  Mau grinned and leaned against the desk.  "So…  I was thinkin' we could go see that new movie about that thing that happens to those people!  Sound good?"     "Ms. Mau…"     "'Mau' is fine, handsome!"     Joseph looked up again, his ears curling back.  "I'm gonna be here a while, Mau…"     "Really?"  She grinned, her tail swishing.  "Sucks to be you, I guess!"     "You—"     The fox had to stop himself before he said something he'd regret.  Truthfully, Mau's casual attitude was starting to piss him off — doubly so because she was interrupting his work.

    "Why don't you go find something to do while I'm doing this?" Joseph said after a moment more, his focus returning to the tests.  "Like I said, I'll be here a while…"     "Well… I don't have anywhere to be until later," Mau commented back.  "Maybe I could keep you company?"     "I don't think so."     "Why not?!"     The fox jolted when the annoying cat spun around and slammed her hands against the work surface.  He looked at her with wide eyes and bristled fur, the expression on his face somewhere between angry and frustrated.     "Because…" he slowly began, "Kris will be back in a minute and—"     "Oh.  Oh, I see how it is…"     "What?"     Joseph blinked, his ears flicking.  Mau's expression had shifted from a casual air looking somewhat hurt.  Her ears were curled back, she was clutching the aquamarine charm hanging from her neckless, and she was narrowing her golden eyes.

    "You and Kris are a think, aren'tcha?" she demanded.     "What?" the fox repeated.  "Mau, I don't even—"     "You are!!" the girl insisted.  "I can see it in your eyes and on your face!"     The look on his face was one of pure confusion at that point…     "I bet you and Kris make out, like, every night after work!" she continued.     "No, I— we—" he stammered before getting cut off.     "Liar!"  She huffed and shivered, holding back her angry tears.  "W-well, I've got news for you, buddy boy!  I, uh… I'm seein' someone, too!  And he's three times as hot as you!"     Being such a blatant lie, it barely masked the truth: she was jealous of the idea of him and Kristian being together.  She wanted to be the one he spent time with, not her!  Still, she doubled down.     "I bet that's how you got this gig, huh?"  Her mouth spread into an almost malicious grin.  "I bet you and her… you know… and you were like, 'Hey, this teaching thing seems like fun!  Maybe sometime, I can pop in and help out!'  And that she-fox was like, 'I am in complete agreement with this.  I am also a robot, beep boop.'  Well, let me tell you, I didn't get my job by getting cozy with someone!  I worked hard to become the da bomb teacher I am!  So, there!!"

    She finished her rant by snapping her fingers right in Joseph's face.  He was startled by the action… but ultimately, he didn't seem as fazed by the out-of-nowhere rant as she'd hoped.  Slowly, he put his grading pen down, slid away from the desk, and stood.  Instinctively, Mau took a step back and tried to look intimidating by taking a bad Karate stance.  However… for better or worse… it was pretty clear Joseph had no intention of laying his hands on her.

    "What the heck is your problem, Mau?"     "I'm… wait, what?"     Mau blinked, her ears flicking.  Somehow, that was not the response she expected.     "Wh-what the heck's yours?" she weakly rebutted, confused by his odd reply.     "My problem?"  Joseph laughed in a scoffing way, shaking his head.  "My problem is that I've gotten the attention of some paranoid, self… self… self-something cat girl who seems to think the world revolves around her."     It wasn't the most eloquent answer, but it seemed to do the job.     "S-self-centered?" Mau guessed, her ears falling and face curling into a scowl.  "Hey, I'm not self-centered…  I—"     "I know," he said, calmly cutting her off.  "It's… ah… what is it— self-important!!"     She jolted as he suddenly blurted that out.     "Yeah, that's what I was trying to say earlier!  Self-important cat girl," he confidently proclaimed.  "You seem kinda self-important to me!"     "So, you hate me!"     Joseph chuckled.  "No, I don't."     She childishly stomped one foot.  "Then, why won't you go out on a date with me?!"     He shook his head.  "I never said I wouldn't."     The girl narrowed her eyes at that.  "You said—"     "I said…" her acquaintance answered, interrupting her again, "that I was busy grading tests.  Once I'm done grading the tests, then… I should be free to join you for an evening out."     "Oh."     And that was all Mau could think to say.

    "W-well, why the heck didn't you just say so?!" she shouted angrily with her hands up.     "I was trying to," Joseph laughed.  "You weren't letting me, though!"     "Oh, so you're calling me a blabbermouth, now?!"     The fox grinned.  "Mau…"     "Stop…!  Toying… with my emotions, Joe!"  Mau clutched her charm again, shaking her head.  "Are you or are you not gonna go to the movies with me?!"     "Yeesss…" he half-hissed, his jolly expression giving way to aggravation again.  "But, the longer you keep distracting me from grading these papers, the longer we're gonna be stuck here.  So, if you don't mind…"     He took a small breath and exhaled it.  After a moment more, he was back behind the desk, focused on grading papers again.  That gave Mau time to think…

    Alright, so he doesn't hate me… she told herself as she sat at a random desk and played with a small, red eraser.  He just wants some time to grade those papers…  Once he's done with that, then we can go to the movies and have that date.     The thought filled Mau with a mix of excitement and impatience.  She wanted to go out with him right then and there!  As she stewed on the thought, however, something else occurred to her.     Hey, wait.  Maybe this could be part of our date!

[samsaraandbeyond]

OC Introduction: Allo

Art drawn by Zenon

He's full of hot air.

Design

Allo's First Design, Art drawn by Teh-Ray  

What if...balloon...and dragon...

Allo ended up getting fishy features added to his design because rubbery things and bodies of water go hand in hand.

Abilities / Traits

The Sentient Balloon

A creature brought to life with magic, his body of rubber comes with unique upsides and unique downsides.

Scrapes and burns on his rubber skin heal as a body of flesh would, except faster and without the scars and scabbing.

Can deflate, inflate, and EXPLODE at will.

Can contain or be inflated with magic that Allo can cast at will or use to detonate himself.

Can tolerate a bit more pain than average. (Will still squeal or complain to indicate that something hurt or could hurt, even if just a little.)

Allo can control how affected he is by gravity, which enables him to float, fall, or resist being blown away if he wants. He's still on the light side though.

If destroyed completely, he will emerge as a spirit until his body fully regenerates. Although he can endure punishment in this form that his rubber body couldn't take, if he is destroyed as spirit, it's game over.

"It's Allo! Everyone's clumsy, lovable friend!"

Intermediate Support Magic Mastery

Disgaea 7

I mean, he was the mascot for a bandage brand...

Allo is experienced in the magic arts of healing allies and enhancing their abilities. Allo occasionally uses these on himself to prevent easy punctures.

"Don't be a baby! This is nothing." - Allo

First Aid Specialist

Healing magic off the table? He can work with what he has.

Allo is educated in the ways of the organic body. He has knowledge of various diseases, poisons, their symptoms, knows the proper procedures for tending to a variety of injuries and conditions, and can improvise solutions should proper tools not be available.

"Told you those plants were poisonous. Here, let me take care of it." - Allo

Personality

Allo loves being the center of attention and adores doing things that help him get it. He flip-flops on whether he hates himself or loves himself based on if he's receiving attention for his actions or if his form, appearance, or skills are hindering him from receiving it. This can cause him to appear as both a narcissistic showboater and a self-deprecating mopey sad sack on the same day.

While he ultimately does like himself, his tendency for being over-dramatic and emotional when distressed causes others to think he has severe self-confidence issues when its really him throwing a pity party.

He is also mostly self-serving. While he will stick his neck out for close friends, helping strangers is more of an afterthought and something he does if its "along the way" of something he's already doing currently, or if he seeks the spotlights being shined on him for a bit.

“How do you not know who I am? I was a well-known star!" - Allo

Backstory

Detta was a brand of bandages and medical supplies endorsed by Hentsworth Industries. Despite this massive endorsement, they didn't have much of a budget to advertise their product or have Hentsworth's interest to fund it, resulting in low sales. In an effort to combat this, they scraped together funds with the intention to produce commercials, ones that could be cheaply made. The only assistance Hentsworth gave them was finding an artist he wasn't intending to pay and tasking them with designing a mascot.

The team debated on how useful a mascot would be. It'd need to show up in the commercials, right? They had no workers experienced with CGI nor the equipment to produce it, they had no mages that could conjure up illusions in its place (that would require them to pay someone). They kept all of this in mind while designing their future face of the brand. Something simple, something cheap.

Kids get hurt a lot, don't they? That was the question asked at the round table. They added that the mascot should appeal to the little shits of the world if they want to hit it big.

After many revisions, they had their mascot. Allo. It wasn't difficult to slap a drawing of him onto the packaging.

Now how to use him...

More internal debates regarding the advertising ensued. Should Allo jump to the rescue with Detta bandages in hand to take care of an injured child? No, that'd require hiring a child actor. They hate children as it is, why pay one?

They'd keep it simple. Allo would be the one getting injured and he would apply the bandages to himself. That way, if possible, he would be the only one that needed to be onscreen. Good start.

They still needed a way to get Allo onscreen.

With hesitance, they commissioned a hobbyist tailoring store to create a wearable Allo costume. That way anyone could wear the costume and do whatever was required without needing a dedicated actor.

First commercial, they bring their cameras to an empty playground. Allo falls off a slide and scrapes his elbow (the costume is drawn on with a red marker). He applies a bandage, poof, he's all better now. Good enough, add in a shot of someone placing the product on a table and they were good.

They uploaded it and were quickly and relentlessly made fun of online. Various memes circulated of Allo's slide falling adventures.

Detta thought they flopped, that they were going out of business, that it was so over. But no. They had a tremendous boost in sales. The commercial had "charm" according to the public. Allo's design was a hit with the children.

They suddenly had money. They had a legitimate budget.

Overwhelmed by the sudden success, they wanted lightning to strike the same place twice. They wanted the commercials they produce next to be cheap; they wanted the "charm". Despite having access to higher quality production tools, they wanted to keep it easy on the funds. A few more commercials were shot with the Allo costume before they came to the realization it was beginning to show damage that couldn't be repaired on set.

They debated on having a new costume put together but ultimately decided it was time to retire the old thing. It'd be an excuse to innovate anyway. Talking amongst themselves at the round table, an employee brought in a fan made, size-accurate balloon replica of Allo, grabbing its arm to make it wave hi.

The team thought it looked cute despite being cheaply made. Really cute. Cute enough to use in their commercials.

Cute equals sales. Cheap equals charm.

They had the money to hire someone for assistance. Enlisting the help of a mage skilled in the arts of bringing life to the inanimate, they found themselves with several Allos ready to take orders. The Allos weren't the brightest, not being able to communicate, handle more than one task, or retain any memory past two minutes, but they served their purpose. If one was destroyed, it'd be easily replaced.

This plan was an immediate success. One commercial with the new look and the brand exploded even more in popularity, reaching monumental levels of success. Allo's balloon design became the defining one.

Allos were mass produced and sent to various businesses for advertising. Detta brand bandages were a hit.

All was well. The team started slacking. They got tired of creating new Allos every time one was destroyed so they decided to hire yet another individual to create a permanent solution to that problem. An Allo that could fix itself, that could simply come back when destroyed. Paying an immense sum of money to a mage that had mastered the arts of creating life...

It was made.

The "immortal" Allo became the only one they would ever use for commercial shoots. Its durability made it an easy pick for fan meet-ups and more risky advertising stunts. What was unexpected, however, was that this Allo became more intelligent as time went on. It was retaining its memories. It, or he, developed a personality.

And wants. Like being paid.

And needs. Like being treated as a person rather than a disposable object.

The team wasn't quite liking their demanding mascot now. They had hatched several plans to get him to pop permanently through placing him in increasingly dangerous "commercials" only to find out just how resilient he was. They eventually stopped because it was starting to look inhumane by the press.

They couldn't destroy him, they couldn't shove him somewhere and forget he existed. He was "the" Allo. People knew who he was and how he acted. There was only one solution they could think of.

A redesign of sorts.

Allo entered the company building to find another Allo(?) in his place. Aside from a few alterations, it looked just like him. When he asked around for an explanation, he was greeted by security seizing him and tossing him out the front door. His manager met him there and informed him of the brand changes.

"Allo" is gone and no longer needed. "Baloo" is here to stay.

In short, piss off.

It didn't take long for Allo to see just how fast he was erased from the brand. It only took a few days to see his face removed from the packaging and be replaced by his lookalike. He couldn't even use his previous popularity to coast by; he was the "old" design. As far as the public was concerned, Baloo was the Allo they know and love, with a new coat of paint. Allo himself was now outdated merchandise.

It tore him apart.

Allo sulked. Sulked and walked. Kept walking until he didn't want to anymore. Then he sat down to sulk more. He didn't know where he ended up and he didn't care. Life sucked.

Then this snakeleon showed up.

Rath thought the balloon inanimate, seeing as it was sitting motionless at a playground. Allo was too busy pouting to really be aware of his surroundings; plus, as a balloon, people would leave him alone naturally. Rath thought Allo was cute and thought aloud about taking him home to take care of. Something as adorable as this didn't deserve to be discarded out here.

Imagine his shock when Allo answered "Really? You'd take care of me?"

The balloon being alive scared the hell out of Rath and made him feel incredibly awkward knowing he said all of that to a person. Wanting a way out of the embarrassment, he came up with several excuses as to why he couldn't take Allo home and that he really needed to leave. None of them worked. Allo scolded him, saying "You're gonna make me feel good about myself then ditch me like that!? No! You're taking me home and treating me like you said!"

Rath sighed. He was too deep into this now. Kicking himself mentally despite the lack of legs, he relented, deciding to take Allo back with him as he said. In the back of his mind, he was feeling a bit lonely anyway, and this surprise guest might be just what he needed.

"Good. Because if you said no, I'd follow you anyway! By the way, you do recognize me, right? ...No? Oh come on!" - Allo

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 153

The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon

“The Impossible Astronaut”/“Day of the Moon”

Plot Description: The Doctor is summoned to assist President Nixon in saving a terrified little girl/The Doctor fights an alien invasion dating back to the beginnings of human civilization

Why IS it that Amy and Rory are just like…part time companions? Is it their relationship? Is it the fact that Rory has a steady job? (He’s not in retail, he’s not a temp, and he’s not a student, so he can’t just go off whenever…even though time travel is definitely half the premise of the show) Amy gets a steady job later but not yet.

They just hitched a ride on a school bus?? Seems unlikely

Was that the first Silence we see?

Okay, one, since when do the Doctor’s friends ever do as they’re told? Every time they’re told to stay put, they’re always running about…Two, they’re putting a lot of strain on my suspension of disbelief. Because I know a younger version of the Doctor meets up with them later in the episode, SOON in fact, but you’d think a time lord’s death wouldn’t be something that could be rewritten. Yet we know he gets at least four more regenerations (12, 13, back to Tenant, 14). Like, unless you had some really extenuating circumstances, like magic (like how Lucy brought back the Master), it shouldn’t work like that.

Mark Sheppard always plays the BITCHIEST characters and I love that for him. Nixon tells his character he was the second pick for the job he’s asking him to do, and Mark tells him he was his second choice for president (I hope Crowley comes back to spn soon)

The Doctor is definitely the kind of guy who would say shit like “I’m the only one who knows and understands all the quirks of my car and can make it function at all” meanwhile he’s just adapted to all the things going wrong MEANWHILE River can and will fix shit behind his back

I do love that he’s always trying to get his hats back

Mmmmm, is this the first hint we get to Amy’s pregnancy, too??

People die in the silliest, most dramatic poses on this show

If Sherlock’s fourth season hadn’t been a disaster and the show itself had lasted any longer, they could have used this episode to loop Hamilton into the superwholock fandom and then where would we be? Like as a society? Apparently two of these three men fancied the Doctor: John Adams, Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson. Maybe we aren’t in the DARKEST timeline

Rory. How are you asking if this is sensible?? Do you know who you’re traveling with? Like, right now you’re exploring some underground tunnels with the woman who loves the universe’s most ridiculous man, and you have the nerve to ask if this is sensible??

It’s sad to hear River talk about the day she knows will come when she’ll see the Doctor and he won’t know who she is. She doesn’t yet know that’s the last time she’ll see him, but she does fear it will kill her. And I don’t know if she means just emotionally devastate her or ACTUALLY kill. We know what will happen, but fuck. Yet we never see or hear the Doctor talk about her with anything close to what she feels even though we know he’s been through her last time with him

Man… that cliffhanger (Amy shooting at the little girl in the astronaut uniform) would have been killer if I didn’t know too much slash wasn’t about to watch part two right now

(I paused too often last ep so hopefully I can just do a no whammys run)

Oh good, they don’t pick up where we left off. We pick up THREE MONTHS LATER

The TARDIS crew is on the run, trying to do ANYTHING about the Silence and on the run from Canton(/Mark/Crowley)

Rory’s so gangly and rubbery when he runs.

Ok sure they were all working together with Canton, but…why’d they let it go on for THREE MONTHS??

What’s Moffat’s fixation on not looking at things? He created the Weeping Angels and the Silence, both of which have distinct advantages when you’re not looking at them

You know, after watching Sam and Dean flash their fake FBI badges so many times, I did become suspicious of Canton (an ACTUAL FBI agent) showing his, even if under…less than official purposes. Just because it’s Mark? And he’s always gonna be Crowley to me? Maybe

This children’s home is…so disturbing. I can’t believe I’m gonna watch this and then try to go to sleep

Sometimes I don’t think we appreciate the tremendous effort it takes to send people to space. But seeing the full shuttle vs size of the command module for Apollo 11 really puts it in perspective

I never liked the plot line with the whoever kidnapped Amy while she’s pregnant.

I mean…it’s accurate and deserved that Canton shoots the one Silence after it tells him they rule the Earth and have no need for weapons, and then he goes “yeah well, welcome to America” but like…….

I can’t remember when Amy actually gets TAKEN taken. Because we’ve already had an appearance of the lady with the eyepatch but I’m not sure

Amazing how he’s seen … omg, no. I just confused the Doctor with Castiel. No saying the Doctor WASNT there when the Tower of Babel was being built, though. He probably was. I’m just saying humans have been trying to reach the heavens for thousands of years (even if we’re taking that story as allegory, it was still originally written THOUSANDS of years ago), we didn’t JUST decide in 1969 to go to the moon because the Silence influenced us to

Good on Canton adapting so quickly to future technology

How do they keep prolonging the “does Amy love Rory or the Doctor?” past Amy’s Choice, past Rory being the Last Centurion, past them getting MARRIED??

River should not have been able to shoot the Silence behind her……..

God…Rory’s constant jealousy and suspicion IS pretty annoying but if you waited 2000 years for someone whose writer makes them deliberately vague about who they’re confessing their feelings to, it’s also understandable

[outlustings]

Hello! It’d be awesome if you wrote Jeremy Blaire (yes yes I know he’s a rat bastard but I love him nonetheless) inviting his (female) assistant/coworker that he’s lowkey catching feelings for into his office turning into (consensual) under-the-desk-blowjob? Bonus points for some kind of confessing feelings? Thank you so much!!!

(did i write a 3300 word porno about jeremy blaire? yes. yes i did. the grass has never looked as touchable as now.

also anon ik you said "lowkey crush" but fuck it. jeremy blaire is a nasty man who has Big Crush now. fuck you and i hope you have a great day because your taste in men is impeccable and i am jealous of your brain.

pretty long, nsfw below the cut prepare to cringe because nobody is socially adept in this fic)

Jeremy Blaire was a man who should have been, by all means, unwavering. No difficult corporate lunch, no nagging supervisor and no hard-ass scientist vested in blue plastic bags had ever made him waver. Not once. He was always cool and calm, even in a sticky situation, and Mount Massive provided a dozen sticky situations every week or so. So cool and calm that even he himself sometimes forgot he had human emotions.

So why, oh why, was he so messed up about some assistant?

It was probably the way she walked. Or talked. Something, really everything, about her had him absolutely fascinated. He usually didn’t care about his assistants’ looks, as long as they brewed strong coffee and didn’t annoy him. But somehow, somewhere his brain had managed to override his contempt for other humans and had made this woman an exception. It was driving him nuts.

He shouldn’t.

But there was something about her, maybe it was her confidence, kindness and wit. Rick said that it was her butt – an ass-istant, he’d called her once. Jeremy had never wanted to use his precious golf clubs for violence before that moment, eventually deciding against repositioning Rick’s jaw with his 3-iron. Wouldn’t look good on his resume.

But it was true, his attraction was definitely sexual.

On some evenings, Jeremy found himself in front of his computer with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his other hand palming himself through his pants, looking at low-resolution porn with faceless men in suits fucking women in pencil skirts and torn stockings. Just a grainy simulacrum of his fantasies. He tried to ignore the crackling, fake moans of the starlets, closing his eyes and imagining her ass bouncing on his lap, her moans, her face and her intoxicating scent, anything but the sad scene, the reality of his situation, that would confront him if he dared open his eyes again. After cumming, he’d bury his head in his pillow and squeeze his eyes shut and try to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, their wings smothered in black, viscous guilt. And the next day, he’d smile to her, ask her if she could take a look at some files or if she could be a dear and bring him a fresh cup of coffee. Pathetic.

But she’d smile back, and her smile and the sound of her laughter made everything better for a moment.

Jeremy’s index finger was on the soft rubbery button of the office phone, the receiver against his ear, he was once again lost in his thoughts. Most of all, lost in the kindling heat in his loins and how she could probably do something about it. He needed to see her. Just for a moment. Make up some excuse of picking up papers or something, make her bend down, take in an eyeful so he could maybe try to relax later this evening… Yeah, something like that. But mostly he just wanted to talk.

He pressed the page button and bit his lip. Electric rattles, then a beep. Then another one. He waited. Then she picked up.

“Sir?”

“Come to my office, I have something I want to discuss. You busy?” he added, sliding his free hand to his thigh to stop his leg from bouncing up and down.

“No, sir,” she replied, “I’ll be right there.”

“Good, thanks,” he cleared his throat as if to say something else but decided against it. How would he even begin to initiate… whatever he was trying to initiate?

Jeremy thrummed his fingers against his desk and adjusted his slacks, dug his hand into his pockets and leaned back in his chair, sighing. This was not going to go well. Whatever he was doing, he felt he should stop it before something terrible happened.

You could always fire her afterwards.

He shook his head. He wasn’t even going to entertain that thought.

After an agonizing two minutes, her office was close, she knocked gently on the door and pushed it open after hearing him say “come in”. She leaned in the door, the buzzing fluorescent light of the hallway framing her head in the crack of the door. Her face was pale, worried, her mouth hung slightly open. He had seen this face before. She thought she was in trouble. He smirked to himself.

“Yeah, come in, please, and sit down,” Jeremy gestured to the chair in front of his desk, leaning back in his own and watching her stumble into the room, her hands folded in front of her as she sat down, crossed her legs, and leaned back, still looking nervous.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” she said, almost apologetically.

“You’re not in trouble,” Jeremy said, propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair and leaning his face into his hand, his head tilted to the side, “Relax, I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” she furrowed her brows, “About what?”

This was about as far as he had thought his plan through to. He’d just have to wing it.

“I wanted to talk about you,” Jeremy gestured towards her, “I want to get to know you better – I mean,” he changed his position and leaned forwards in his chair, smiling to her, “I barely know you and you make my coffee every day. I trust you enough to not poison me, so I think it’s only fair that you trust me enough to tell me some things about yourself.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“What things?”

“Like what’s your favourite thing about working here,” he grinned, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms, “How you take your coffee, are you proficient in Excel and if you’re single or not -…” he took a moment to savour her dumbfounded expression at his last words, “…- those kinds of things.”

“You ask all your employees these kinds of things?” she challenged sternly, almost coldly, betrayed by a blush creeping across the bridge of her nose.

“Only the pretty ones.”

She huffed.

“Thanks, but this is really inappropriate,” she crossed her own arms, mirroring him, and licked her lips. For a moment, he followed her tongue with his eyes and kept them on her lips. She apparently noticed and shifted in her chair. He smiled.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, miss?” he stroked his chin, eyeing her carefully.

“No!” she shook her head, laughing a bit.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You really probably shouldn’t ask your employee if they’re single.”

“Ah,” he said, tapping his bottom lip, “But if my interest is purely unprofessional, would that be better?”

He waited, his heart beating a little too loud for his liking. She looked like she was going to either explode or melt into the carpet, her flushed face contorted in an expression that he found adorable. She was probably weighing what she was going to say next. Gave him more time to take in her expression.

“I’m single,” she finally breathed out, “There. Can I go?”

“You’re gonna leave it at that?” Jeremy clicked his tongue, “You don’t wanna go a bit further?”

She smiled.

“Mr. Blaire…”

“I asked you if you wanted to go further, and I’m not hearing an answer,” he rose from the chair, feeling a burning sensation settle in his stomach as he walked around his desk, his heart beating a thousand miles an hour as she jumped up from her chair to face him. His blue eyes fixed on hers, he took his chin in her hand. She didn’t resist in the slightest. Instead, she sighed and looked away, her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink.

“I won’t do anything to you,” Jeremy leaned against her body, whispering into her ear, his lips touching the strands of hair around her temple, “…unless you say yes and please like a good girl.”

She lifted her eyes up at him, and without a word, her lips spread into a mischievous smile as her hands settled on the collar of his white shirt.

“You have no idea what you just did, Jeremy,” she chuckled, pulled him by the collar to her and pressed her lips onto his.

And every coherent thought in his head exploded in a brilliant show of colours as he kissed her back. He felt like his lips were on fire as her warm body pressed against his and the butterflies in his stomach melted into a white-hot mixture of desire and relief as he broke the kiss to look her in the eye.

“Show me what I did,” he licked his lips. She parted her lips and sighed a delicate yes.

His tongue dipped into her awaiting mouth, and he heard and actually felt her whine in his mouth. Hot flesh against hot flesh, slippery, but so delightful. It was obscene. Desperate. Absolutely filthy, Deepening the kiss, Jeremy pressed her face closer to his, holding her head by the back of her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. His other hand slid down to the curve of her spine, where it settled, holding her tight.

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away slightly, their noses still brushing. She breathed heavily, her warm, sweet breath ghosting over his lips as she looked up into his eyes. The intensity of her gaze along with the pinkness of her cheeks made his heart skip a beat.

“This wasn’t supposed to go this far,” she whispered, sliding her hand from his neck to his cheek, stroking. Very softly.

“We can stop,” Jeremy mumbled, grinning, his eyes moving from her swollen lips to her heaving chest and all the way down to where her legs were tightly pressed against each side of his lower thigh.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she looked up at him and pressed a shaky kiss against the side of his jaw, her teeth grazing his skin.

Jeremy hummed in appreciation, a low, throaty groan spilling from his lips as she moved down to nip at the skin of his neck. He would for sure have her lip gloss on his collar. A wild thought of never washing this specific shirt again crossed his mind for a small moment.

He barked out a laugh as she covered his neck with heated kisses.

“You know,” he swallowed, “I’ve had my eyes on you for a while now.”

“Really?” she giggled, pulling away and locking eyes with him. He nodded, stroking her lower back, brushing against the softness of her ass. He moved his hips closer to hers, the fabric of the front of his slacks rustling softly against her abdomen.

“The things you do to me,” Jeremy whispered against her lips and caught her in another kiss, a short kiss, teasing, “It’s like you know exactly what I want.”

“You want me?”

He felt his cock stiffen, pressing against the fabric of his underwear, growing with need for her as he was engulfed in her scent and the warmth of her skin – every cell in his body was aching for her. Her hips bumped against his and she looked into his eyes as she deliberately ground her hips against the very top of his thighs.

“Fuck yes, I want you,” he growled against her ear, his hands sliding down to knead her buttocks, pulling her hips closer to his clothed cock. She gasped, grabbing the back of his neck for stability as he all but humped the front of her skirt.

“Mr. Bl-ah-aire,” she stuttered, “I – we…”

Jeremy pulled away from her, breathless, feeling his shamefully hard cock throb inside his slacks, begging for attention.

“Right now?” she grinned.

“We have a few minutes,” he swallowed thickly, hating himself.

“Will that be enough?” she quirked a brow.

“Make it enough,” he smirked.

  ×

“You’re such a mess,” she giggled, holding his shaft in her hands and gliding her fingers over the smooth and leaking expanse of the tip of his cock. He groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking gently.

“You wanna get mouthy with me, missy?” he growled, partly out of frustration and partly to stifle a moan that threatened to spill from his lips as she continued her slow, teasing strokes. She giggled. The absolute nerve.

“Oh, no, sir,” she tilted her head and hummed, looking up at him through her long lashes, “Please don’t punish me, sir, I’m just joking,” she squared her jaw for a moment and opened her mouth slightly, spitting a glistening pearl of saliva onto the head of his cock and used her thumb to spread the wetness around before beginning faster strokes from the base to the head. Jeremy’s head was spinning.

She’s going to kill me with this.

“I’m going to fuck you raw over this desk and not give a shit about who comes in here if you continue on with your little games,” he emphasized his last words with another tug of her hair. She let out a shaky moan and his heart skipped a beat.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good girl,” Jeremy breathed out and lifted his hips ever so slightly to nudge his cock towards her glossy lips. She understood it as an order and opened her mouth to take his twitching length inside her mouth. Jeremy groaned, throwing his head back, his eyes flickering to the door and then back to her pretty face between his legs. Ten minutes at most, and surely someone would be knocking on his door. Ten minutes was all he had.

His hand was still in her hair, but he loosened his grip as she swallowed him down further, emitting her own little sounds that made him feel like he was going to explode.

“Enjoying it, huh?” he gave a challenging smirk and stroked her hair, pushing her down, gently yet hastily, on his cock so that her nose brushed against his pubic hair and her eyes began to water, “You like getting your throat fucked by your boss? Naughty girl,” he licked his lips as she moaned, mouth full of him, at his words. He was going to win, one way or another.

Jeremy felt her shift on her knees, his dick still inside her mouth as she sucked. He looked down to see that she was grinding against her hand, which she had slipped underneath her skirt. He snickered at the sight, but his breath hitched as the tip of his cock pushed against her throat, going deeper than before. It was intoxicating, almost mind-numbing to watch her ministrations, both hands working in a mechanical, yet sensual rhythm of stroking him and rubbing against her own cunt, with her head bobbing on his length, wet sounds that mingled with the combined heavy breathing of the two of them, obscene little moans and slurps.

Jeremy couldn’t help but breathe sharply through his teeth and buck up into her mouth, his hips lifting off of his chair. She gagged and looked up at him, still obediently hollowing her cheeks around his cock and flicking her tongue against the underside of his shaft. Slowly, he began to fuck her mouth, gripping the armrests of his chair, his hips rutting into her face as he threw his head back and groaned, feeling her hands splay against his thighs.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” Jeremy breathed, feeling beads of sweat roll down his back as he fucked up into her mouth, savouring the little noises she made and the way that she looked, so adoringly up at him. Her eyes were large and wet with tears, her cheeks flushed, her lips stretched and swollen around him, glistening with saliva. Her hair was getting messy from her own sweat and the way he had gripped it earlier – but she was so beautiful. He felt a tightening in his abdomen and his hands shot to the top of her head again as he moaned.

It was too much. All of her was too much, in the best way possible, and she was too beautiful to be fucked like this, but she enjoyed it, and everything was suddenly feeling very floaty and she was in the centre of his universe right this very moment as he looked down on her and heard himself say something, maybe a warning, his throbbing cock twitching against the roof of her mouth as she swallowed him down, her mouth so tight and wet.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he growled, gripping her hair and pushing her down, “Fuck, fuck, oh god,” he was so close. At his words, he felt her body stiffen against his, her sucking stopping for only a second, but it was a heartbeat too long. He didn’t care. He didn’t even register what he was saying or doing, only that she felt amazing and she was beautiful and kind and too good and so, so tight and wet…

And he came down her throat, screwing his eyes shut as he continued thrusting, riding out the waves of his orgasm, and she made a high-pitched, keening noise with his cock in her mouth, and he trembled. He felt his bitter cum coat the back of her throat in spurts and she swallowed it down, in sync with his stuttering thrusts as he moaned, loudly, eyes unseeing as she continued sucking and swallowing. She really is trying to kill me.

Everything in his world stopped for a moment. He tried to blink away the swimming colours etched into his eyesight. Then came a popping sound, and cool air against his hot, sensitive flesh. She had pulled off of him.

“Jesus…” he panted, looking down at her, feeling a pang of that brackish guilt in his stomach as she wiped saliva and cum away  from her chin with the back of her hand, “I got carried away,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, grunting as his cock twitched at the sight of her, so sweet, so vulnerable.

She smiled, something unreadable behind her eyes. He was too caught up in his aftershocks to really register anything but the blood rushing in his ears.

“It’s fine, Mr. Blaire,” she said and bit the inside of her cheek, chewing for a bit. It was almost like she wanted to say something. He smiled apologetically at her as he shoved himself back into his pants, admiring her composure. She really was too beautiful to be fucked like this.

She rose up on shaky legs and smoothed down her skirt, grabbing a Kleenex from the desk and wiping her fingers, one by one, turning her face away from him. Jeremy frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“You meant what you said?” she turned her body to him, a small smile on her slightly quivering lips as she leaned against the heavy oak of his desk, her hips close to his shoulder. He stared. For a while, his dumb, orgasm-scrambled brain tried to make sense of her question. Said what? Then, to his horror, he realized what she was talking about.

“Oh, uh-…” he muttered, moving his attention to his belt so that he would be even slightly able to hide his blushing face from her, “I mean… Sure,” he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, clinking his belt shut, “You’re really good.”

He felt himself cringe a little, bracing for impact. Shit. Nothing but silence, then a slight laugh. But a tense one.

“Because I’m not about to -…” she trailed off, “...for like a promotion or something, I don’t want...”

“Oh, no, no!” he shook his head, eyes wide in horror, “No, not at all. That was not what I want, no, you deserve -…” he didn’t know what she deserved. Probably better than him, “You’re lovely,” he sighed, lowering his head.

He looked up. She was grinning ear to ear, her cheeks the same shade of deep red that he felt was also seared across his own face. Fucking Christ, this was hard. Yet, he felt his heart lighten at the sight of her smile.

“Have a drink with me tonight,” he blurted out.

“Sure.”

[missroserose]

WIP snippet meme!

@redmyeyes tagged me to share a snippet of my WIP! (Luckily, she didn't specify which one.) I'm going to tag @paperbodiesamongthestars, @twobrokenwyngs, @sirsparklepants, @withoneheadlight, @trashcangimmick, @wendigosam, and @keziahrain—let's see what y'all are working on!

As for me, while I haven't actively worked on Act III of Waters for a while, it's been haunting my ruminations for some time now. So here's an early version of one of the early scenes. It's the week after Billy and Steve got together in secret, and things have been a little rocky between them—and then, of course, there's school...

---

Steve thinks about skipping the lunchroom, maybe going out to his car for a smoke—it’s been a while since he did, Nancy didn’t like it, but Nancy’s in the lunchroom and not out in his car, and frankly that seems like as good a reason as any. But Tommy’ll be there, and Eric, and the rest of the guys, and even if it is unseasonably warm there’s something of an unspoken rule that they all eat together in the lunchroom come December. So he shows up fashionably late, grabs a tray, takes his apportioned apple and slice of pizza and pint of chocolate milk—

A round of applause interrupts his good old fashioned pity party. Sends his attention towards the corner of the cafeteria where the guys from the basketball team are sitting—all clapping, whistling, giving those weird hooting gorilla grunts combined with a spun arm of approval.

All at Billy, standing in the doorway.

Billy’s staring, hostile, mean, but then Tommy runs up to him, slaps him on the back—“hell yeah, stud, like father like son“—and of course he misses the flash of anger this sends across Billy’s face. Steve crosses the room, careful to put a careless saunter in his step, and stands at the end of the table, watches as Billy takes the guys’ semi-sarcastic congratulations. Leans over, where Dan Miller’s sitting, stabbing at his rubbery pizza slice with a plastic spork. “What’s going on?”

“Something about his dad,” Miller responds. “It’s dumb but Tommy got it into his head that it’d be a funny joke.” He looks over at Steve, half surprised. “I would’ve thought you were in on it.”

“What, like Tommy can’t think up unfunny shit on his own?” Steve elbows Dan, gets a half-smiling chuckle in response, straightens. Returns his attention to the drama playing out at the head of the table, hears snatches of conversation. “Lydia Hayes—“ “God, I’ve had a crush on her since middle school—“ “those tits though—“ “shame her daughter didn't get those, huh?”—this last greeted with a round of knowing nods and chuckles.

“Hargrove, what the hell? You weren’t going to tell me it was your bachelorette party today?” Steve bumps his way in through the receiving line, gives Billy an elbow in the ribs.

“Ha ha. Save your congratulations for my asshole father. Apparently he banged some bitch's mom that these idiots have been drooling over for years.” Billy’s eyes slide over the rest of the team with unveiled contempt—most of them have gone back to eating at this point, the joke over.

“Not just some bitch. Lydia fucking Hayes, dude.” Tommy, never one to understand when a joke’s been stretched to its limit, claps Billy on the back. “Loud and proud enough that his wife went nuclear on the Hayes’ holiday decorations over the weekend.”

“It was a public service, really,” one of the guys cracks.

“Jesus, you hicks are hard up for entertainment,” Billy mutters, and stalks off to go grab a tray.

Steve nabs the seat next to Tommy, does his best to change the subject. Remembers his own words to Billy, earlier. “So, what’s your family doing for Christmas?”

“My family? Skiing again. Lame-o.” Tommy gives an exaggerated yawn, stretching one arm up as if flagging for the entertainment. “Luckily, I’ve talked my way out of it. Told the ‘rents I’ve got way too much homework over vacation. Wouldn’t want to risk my GPA, maybe get my college acceptance withdrawn.”

Steve flashes his best Risky Business smile. “So you’re throwing a party?”

“Fuck yeah I’m throwing a party. Friday night. You coming?”

Steve’s smile turns into a grin, all teeth. “I’ll bring the keg.”

“That’s King Steve.” Tommy punches him in the shoulder approvingly. “Wonder if we can set up two. Get you and Hargrove in direct competition—that’d be a hell of a draw. I bet we could sell tickets.”

“Psh, a kegstand’s no draw if you don’t have girls.” A thought occurs to him. “Can we get the girls to hold us up? Like wrestling champions. That would bring in the crowds.”

“What’re we bringing?” Billy’s returned, alotted pizza slice and milk carton and fruit cup all perched on his tray.

“Your A-game!” Tommy, never one to wait for an idea to finish baking, practically crows the words. “This Friday, man. Start-of-Christmas-vacation party! We’re gonna knock the socks off these hicks.”

Steve would swear he could see Billy’s eye twitch at Tommy’s easy appropriation of his personal vocabulary. “I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for partying, Hagan. Besides, didn’t Kristie just throw a kegger last week?”

Tommy scoffs. “Hardly. It was sad, man. There were, like, five people sitting around in ugly Christmas sweaters. Not even enough to play Spin the Bottle.” He shakes his head, expression as tragically pained as someone looking at those pictures of the starving children in Ethiopia. “You going to tell me we can’t do better than that? We’ve got the whole team!” His voice rises on the last note, as if he’s expecting the others to cheer, but he barely garners a couple of glances before the rest of the guys go back to their conversations. Steve can’t blame them—nobody cheers for Tommy other than Tommy.

“So what’re you gonna do if the team’s all who show?” Steve glances over at Billy’s sharp tone, realizes he’s got that look on his face—eyes narrowed, tension across his shoulders, and (Steve would bet) at least one fist balled up beneath the table. “Can’t play Spin the Bottle without girls.”

“Yes! Exactly what Steve here was saying.” Tommy nods, as if he’s some kind of expert on girls and their partygoing habits. “So we were thinking, new idea: two kegs, and we get four of the prettiest girls to assist. Double keg-stand!” He practically crows the words. “King versus king! The ultimate battle for keg supremacy!”

Steve has to give Tommy this much credit for cunning—in the mood for partying or no, there’s no way Billy can turn down an invitation like that. His face goes easy, lazy—the sort of half-smile where you’d never see the knife hidden beneath if you didn’t know to look for it. He turns it on Steve. “Wha’d’ya say, Harrington? Shall we settle the question once and for all?”

The knife is there, Steve knows—always is, with Billy. Even if Steve didn’t know him as well as he does, he’d guess—there’s something a little too clear about the sudden sparkle in Billy’s eyes, something aggressive about the way he suddenly focuses all of his attention on Steve. But frankly, Steve hasn’t gotten where he has by backing down from a challenge.

And it feels good to have Billy’s attention on him again.

“Only if you’re ready to bow before your king.” Steve keeps his voice mild, takes a sip of milk as easily as if it were a longneck. Watches Billy from the corner of his eye.

Billy’s eyes flash, and his voice raises just a hair—nothing obvious, but enough that the whole team’s attention is on them now. “All right. Let’s raise the stakes. Loser crowns the winner, and offers a forfeit.” He takes a sip of his own milk, considering. “We’ll need a crown.”

“And a robe,” Tommy says immediately. “I’m on it. We’re gonna determine this thing right.”

A satisfied nod, Billy turning his smile back on Steve, hitting him with the full wattage. “Don’t worry, Harrington. I’m a generous ruler. I’ll only have you streak around the block once.”

Steve laughs along with the rest of the team. It’s all in good fun, after all. Just guys being bros. “And here I was gonna say, I’ll only make you call me Daddy once.”

Against the backdrop of the team’s ooooos, Billy’s face loses its smile, eyes pale as they look at Steve. “I’m gonna fuckin’ take you apart, Harrington.” He downs the last of his milk, bares his teeth, traces of white still clinging to his gums. “And don’t you forget it.”

[mst3kproject]

Godmonster of Indian Flats

If I had a dollar for every movie I’ve seen about a bloodthirsty mutant sheep, I would have... two dollars.

I was entirely willing to feature Godmonster of Indian Flats based on its strangeness alone, but it does have one connection to MST3K in that actress Peggy Browne was also in Avalanche. Another performer here, Kerrigan Prescott, also had a part in previous Episode that Never Was Fiend Without a Face, so hey, close enough!

Dr. Clemens and his assistant Mariposa discover a mutant lamb on Eddie the Rancher’s sheep farm, and take it up to a secret lab at Indian Flats for study.  This seems somewhat outside of Clemens’ claimed purview as an anthropologist, but whatever, I’m just here to watch the movies.  While the monster grows to maturity in a tank, the mayor of a local tourist town, Mr. Silverdale, is refusing to sell land to a Mr. Barnstable, who is interested in the mining rights.  We soon get the idea that Silverdale is less interested in tourism than he is in having his own private Wild West LARP, and the townsfolk have an almost cult-like reverence for him.  Eventually, their increasingly violent attempts to run Barnstable out of town cross paths with Dr. Clemens’ pet mutant, and all hell breaks loose!

Well, maybe not all hell.  This movie hasn’t got the money for all hell.  Rest assured, though, that they unleash all the hell they could afford.

The hell in question takes the form of a lumpy hunchbacked sheep creature with a rubbery sock puppet head, one long dangling arm, and a huge Kim Kardashian ass.  It interrupts a picnic, and blows up a gas station by knocking over a pump with its bubble butt.  It may or may not understand English, and it breathes poisonous gas when injured.  The puppet is pretty weird and scary-looking in the darkness of Clemens' secret lab, but out in the full light of day it is ridiculous.

Any movie with a mutant sheep monster is going to be weird, and the monster is the weirdest thing in the movie, but make no mistake – Godmonster of Indian Flats sans monster would still be a weird fucking movie. The other story going on here, Silverdale vs Barnstable, is thoroughly bizarre in itself.

Apparently it's not enough for Silverdale and the townspeople to simply refuse to sell Barnstable their mining rights.  Instead, they have to totally ruin his career and both his physical and mental health! First of all, they invite him to their 'Bonanza Days' and have him take part in a shooting contest, where the whole town conspires to make it look like he accidentally shot the sheriff's dog.  Then they hold a funeral for the dog as if it were a person.  The whole time the dog is fine – it was just playing dead, and afterwards the sheriff sends it to live with a friend.

When Barnstable still doesn't leave town after this, Silverdale's toady Phil whacks him over the head with a bottle, then shoots himself in the shoulder and puts the gun in the unconscious man's hand.  Barnstable wakes up in jail and demands a lawyer, but everybody ignores him.  Eddie and Mariposa help him escape, and the sheriff then forms a posse to hunt him down and lynch him!  At the end of the movie Silverdale triumphantly tells Barnstable that he's going to lose his job because his boss is embarrassed by all these goings-on.  At this point Barnstable also has a cracked skull and a broken arm.  He's a PTSD-ridden shell of a man and yet Silverdale is still yelling “I've beaten you, Barnstable!” as the end credits roll.

All of this might become a little less weird (but way more horrible) when I mention that Barnstable is the only black character with dialogue.  And yet, none of it is ever overtly framed as racist.  Nobody ever uses a slur – in fact, Barnstable's race is never once referenced in dialogue, not even obliquely.  You could cast a white actor in this part and nothing would have to be changed. What Barnstable seems to represent, and what Silverdale and the townspeople claim to be fighting against (Silverdale declares that he is 'the custodian of an era'), is decadence and capitalism, concepts traditionally associated with a white elite.

This in itself should be read as a commentary on race.  It's notable that Barnstable is playing by white rules.  He's a smooth businessman representing the interests of his presumably white boss.  When Silverdale invites him to Bonanza Days, he is happy to step into that role, too.  He dresses the part and takes up the six-shooter, and does a pretty good job with it.  Barnstable is a 'model minority' figure, a black man with the trappings of white success... and in spite of that, he is still abused.  Hard as he tries to fit into the white people's world, he is not welcome there.

I don't think that's actually what Barnstable is supposed to represent to the viewer, however.  The people of this town are described in the opening as 'living in the past' and we see that they're very dedicated to it.  Silverdale dresses the part of a nineteenth century gentleman even when he's at home.  Everybody dresses up in period costumes for occasions like parties and church, and the town's status as a tourist attraction requires many people to play such a role full-time.  There's a dark underbelly to this quaint little world, as we see in the opening when a barmaid steals Eddie's casino winnings, but even that fits their chosen period.

Barnstable intrudes into this world as a representative of modernity and reality. If you're paying attention, you soon realize that the 'past' the townsfolk are living in isn't like the real past at all.  The real history of this little mining town would have involved filthy, back-breaking work in the mines, and saloons full of drunks, prostitutes, and crime.  The modern town has adopted the pretty trappings of the 19th century – the clothes, the horses, and nice little shows of piety like the dog funeral – while sweeping the dirt and violence under the rug.  The latter are only to be turned on outsiders.

This fantasy version of the old west is also very, very white.  In the real world, history is always more diverse than we usually think it was – one of the historical figures who inspired the character the Lone Ranger, for example, was Bass Reeves, the first black US Marshall in the west.  The people in Silverdale's town have no interest in that.  There is not a single Native American character in the movie, and I've already mentioned the lack of other people of colour, except for a couple of background tourists.  This is an essential part of throwing away the ugly parts of the past – race brings conflict, and Silverdale and his followers want none of that. Barnstable's race makes his status as an outsider all the more obvious, both visually and as a reminder that the world these people are trying to live in never really existed.

This puts Barnstable in a very strange place in this movie.  He's definitely a victim, but never a hero – in fact, Godmonster of Indian Flats is yet another movie that doesn't have a hero – yet he is not a villain, either.  He's just some poor bastard who wandered into a horror movie and now he can't find his way out of it.

So... what does any of this have to do with a mutant sheep monster?

I dunno.  There seem to have been mutants in this area for a long time, since Clemens talks about legends of a 'mine monster' and even shows off weird fossils he's found, but how does that tie into the theme of clinging to the past?  Maybe it's supposed to be about history repeating itself, since new monsters are being born just as the mines are about to re-open?  I have no idea.

Does the monster die at the end?  I cannot tell you.  I think it dies when the truck it was caged in blows up?  The movie ends with an angry mob pushing the truck over a steep slope where they dump their garbage, while Eddie, Clemens, and Mariposa try to reveal Silverdale's own land-grab scheme.  This all degenerates into chaos and people tumbling down the hill and shooting each other, while Silverdale stands there yelling about how violence controls the masses and how he's beaten Barnstable. It's an ending that seems calculated to leave the audience going, “... huh?”.

Why is it a God monster? Now this, I do have a theory about.  I don't think the sheep is actually the godmonster – I think the titular menace is actually Mr. Silverdale! He wields a god-like authority within the town, even when his evil scheme is apparently exposed at the end, and uses it to do monstrous things!  If that's not what they were going for... then I have no idea.

I mentioned in the opening that I've seen two movies about mutant sheep monsters.  The other is Black Sheep, which is one of those off-the-wall movies they make in New Zealand when they're not doing Tolkien-related stuff.  Black Sheep was apparently inspired by Godmonster of Indian Flats, but it throws out the race relations stuff and runs with the 'mutant sheep' thing to make on of the most perfect dark comedies I've ever seen.  I would recommend it to the strong-stomached in the same way I recommended The Valley of Gwangi to anyone disappointed by Beast of Hollow Mountain – it is everything the older film should have been but was not.

[eirist]

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

EASY, LOVE

One-shot #: 24

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: This can be a companion story to Calm Before the Storm. I rarely write one-shots with an ongoing arc timeline but the story’s much better in Wano set-up. I originally tried a different setting but it didn’t work out.

Title is borrowed from the song Easy, Love by Tom West. It has nothing to do with the story plot but when I came across it, I immediately thought it suits this one-shot best.

Summary: Since when did falling for someone been so easy?

Nami silently observed from the upper deck of the Sunny as the samurais of Wano Kuni arrived from their journey from the Ringo region.

If the merrymaking at Kuri beach—where a barbecue celebration (one of the many they had for the last few days)—was already loud and boisterous before… it turned to a total pandemonium once the group dismounted their horses to join the party.

Luffy was hollering from too much excitement; yelling Zoro’s name as he bounded towards the swordsman—who was getting off his own horse—so he could glomp him.

Her lips quirked in amusement. Idiots. Look how happy they both are to see each other.

It’s been days since the green-haired man traveled to the northern region to pay his respects to the samurai Ryuma who gave him Shusui. Few of the red scabbards went with him…

…along with Momo’s sister, Hiyori.

Nami pursed her lips at that. And it immediately turned into a frown when she noticed Zoro assisting the beautiful woman down from her own horse. Even with Luffy still entangled around him, his rubbery arms encircling the taller man’s torso, Zoro was still able to effortlessly lift Hiyori and set her down carefully on the ground.

Hiyori looked absolutely pleased. Her hands lingered on Zoro’s shoulders as Luffy continued cheering right at his ear.

Then Sanji decided to enter the scene to gripe and swear at his rival before taking the now-surprised Hiyori’s hands off Zoro to lead her towards the feasting table in a frenzy of popping hearts, nose bleed and drool.

Nami would’ve blown him some kisses for that. The look Hiyori threw on Zoro’s way didn’t escape her eyes yet the dense man was expectedly was oblivious to it; his attention was completely on his captain as he tried to pry him off his person.

She studied Zoro for a few seconds. He was being unusually nice… if not extra nice to the former oiran. Well… Hiyori was, after all, the reason why he got his hands on a new and more powerful sword.

And apparently, as Brook had gossiped to her and Usopp one drunken evening, it wasn’t just the sword. The musician had caught them in a rather… compromising position when he happened upon them in the hideaway hut back in Ringo.

Her frown deepened. The familiar sensation of something weighing down her chest came back again. Just like that night when she first heard the story.

Her hands twitched involuntarily and she didn’t notice that she was clutching the railing quite hard.

“Nami? Are you alright?”

The navigator whipped her head sharply towards the voice.

Robin was standing a few feet away from her with a questioning look on her face. She just emerge from the library and was holding a book in her hand when she spotted the younger woman so deep in her thoughts as she gaze at party below.

“Sorry,” Nami said in a sheepish tone, feeling weirdly guilty at being caught spacing out. “Got distracted for a second. What was that again Robin?”

The archaeologist smiled as she approached her, not bothering to repeat her question. She peered down below. “Ara, they’re finally back.”

“Yeah…” Nami followed her gaze. “We can now set sail… that is if our captain is finally done with all these feasts.”

Robin giggled. “I doubt that. Now that Zoro’s here, he’ll probably want to celebrate again.”

“Hmmm…” Nami smiled at her. “I don’t know why I bother with that thought when I already know what’s gonna happen.”

“Fufufu… shall we join them?” Robin asked.

Nami brushed back a stray tendril of hair that escaped her pony tail and shook her head. “You go ahead first.”

Robin nodded. She patted Nami’s shoulder lightly before heading down the galley. From the looks of it something was bothering the navigator.

But for now it’s much better to leave Nami to her thoughts. She’ll eventually share whatever was on her mind when she’s ready.

“Oiiii Nami! Namiiiii!” Luffy was shouting from the shore, waving his rubbery arms enthusiastically to get her attention. “Look! Look! Zoro’s finally back!” He started tapping Zoro’s back with enough force to earn a death glare from the surly man as he growled for him to stop.

Nami rolled her eyes at their antics.

Zoro tilted his head to her direction and their eyes met.

They held each other’s gazes. Nami willed her face to remain expressionless as they continued their stare off.

The katana wielder raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why her reception was as cold as the northern region he had just recently came from.

And just like that, Nami tore her gaze away from him and turned on her heel disappearing from his sight.

Zoro was left confused. What just happened? She didn’t even bother to greet him and just stared straight at him like he was someone she didn’t know.

Did he owe her something?

Beside him Luffy stopped his antics and blinked, also baffled by Nami’s odd behavior.

“Ne, Zoro. Did you do something?”

-------------------------

“So did you do something?” Usopp queried, raising both eyebrows as he regarded the swordsman beside him suspiciously.

They were sitting on one of the feasting tables, eating and drinking. The former pirate hunter just told him about what happened earlier.

“I just got back!” Zoro hissed at him, slamming the tankard he was holding down the table. “How can I do something when I’m not even here these past few days?!”

Usopp shrugged. “Maybe you did something before you left.” He suggested, stabbing another slab of meat with his fork and taking a hefty bite from it.

“Like what?!”

The sniper shrugged his shoulders again unable to give an answer. He had long ago learned that Nami’s temperament is as unpredictable as the New World weather. Sunny with a high chance of thunderbolts. No use trying to figure it out.

“Oi Robin,” Zoro then turned towards the older woman who was sitting beside him. He nudged his head towards the Sunny’s direction. “What’s with her?”

Robin shifted her eyes towards the empty upper deck. Nami still hasn’t come down to join them and had probably barricaded herself inside the library. She shook her head apologetically. “I honestly do not know Zoro.”

“What did I do now?” Zoro grouchily asked no one in particular and Robin’s lips quirked up at his predictable reaction.

“Ara… Are you saying you did something?”

“No.” Zoro snarled as he eyed her indignantly. “I didn’t!”

“Maybe she’s just in one of her moods?” Usopp interjected. “You know how she is.”

“She probably is.” Robin agreed. “Best to stay clear for now Zoro.”

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth irritably, Zoro reached for a bottle of sake.

They were ok before he left. More than ok to be honest as he recalled their drinking session days before the raid in Onigashima.

So what happened?

-------------------------

The sound of the revelry was beginning to increase in volume indicating that it was starting to shift into full swing as cheers and singing filled the air.

Yet everything was lost on the orange-haired woman who was sitting by herself in the ship’s library. Her pretty brown eyes were fixed intently on the window just behind her mapping desk.

Oh she is in a mood alright. Ever since she realized what the heavy feeling that was settling inside her was.

By Kami, she’s jealous.

Yes indeed, she is.

She tipped her head back and groaned. What a nasty feeling.

And to think this was all because of that moronic, directionless swordsman.

She likes him. That she was sure now. That’s the reason why she was so down when she heard Brook’s story about him and Hiyori. And when he set off to Ringo with said woman in tow, not even bothering to ask if any of the Straw Hats wants to go with them.

And she’s not gonna even touch the scene she witnessed earlier when he assisted her down from her horse like he had been a gentleman all his life.

What else could have possibly happened to them? They’ve spent a lot of time together after all.

Zoro never mentioned anything about her that night she was drinking with him. And it’s not like she should be privy to it. What Zoro do or does is his own business.

She banged a fist on her mapping desk to stop the thoughts and winced when she realized that it was a damn rash action.

But the pain in her hand was nothing like the one wrenching her heart.

She smiled wistfully. And here she honestly thought there was something… between them.

Foolish, foolish thought! She chastised herself. How can she let herself be pulled in that moment with him!

And now… here she is.

Never mind that that was not the first time it happened and she realized it will not be the last.

She bit the insides of her cheeks. Now is not the time for this. She better straighten her thoughts and get a hold of herself. Some of her friends are pretty intuitive, they’d know at a glance that something’s up with her. She’s pretty sure Robin’s brilliant mind has already put two and two together.

Squaring her shoulders, she decided she’d come down to join the merriment after five more minutes.

Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, she closed her eyes and…

The library door suddenly swung open; the heavy foot falls that followed it gave away who just entered.

Damn it! She’s not ready to face him yet!

She steeled herself when he crossed the room. She heard him grab a chair and set it down just beside her with a ‘thud’.

She didn’t even flinched at the sound. Normally she would be bitching about it. Complaining on how crass he is.

Instead she just kept quiet.

“What is it?” Zoro grunted; a bit peeved that she ignored his presence knowing full well why he was there.

“Nothing,” she answered after a few seconds, still not looking at him.

Zoro made a disapproving sound. He knows something is up. Nami cannot lie to him. He knows her too well.

“Spill.”

She remained quiet. And it was so unnerving to him. Whatever it was, he was getting the idea that it was serious. She was usually upfront with whatever she was thinking.

The silence that hovered between them was intolerable. It was pushing him over the edge.

Then Nami turned her head towards him. A determined look was all over her face.

And her lovely, brown eyes.

“I’m jealous.”

Zoro blanked at that. He heard what she just said—loud and clear.

And yet his mind cannot process what she finally decided to divulge.

He opened his mouth to say something… to blurt out an expletive, a retort.

But nothing came out.

Nami was looking at him intently, watching him. She watched as his usually nonchalant expression cracked, his cool composure completely obliterated by that phrase.

His face slowly colored.

There was no other way than to hit him with the truth. She readied herself for his outburst.

Instead he surprised her by stammering and turning into a deeper shade of red.

A chuckle escaped her.

What an adorable idiot he is.

She riveted her gaze back to the window. This is more than what she expected.

Amusing as it may seem, the heavy feeling from earlier still hadn’t left her.

Beside her Zoro continued spluttering.

That should be enough to keep him at bay. Nami thought amusedly.

She heard him took a deep breath before finally muttering a ‘damn it’.

And he suddenly leaned towards her, reaching out to grasp her hand roughly in his.

It drew her attention back to him.

He was grumbling something under his breath. She couldn’t quite catch what it was because her heart was thumping wildly inside her chest and blood was rushing to her head.

Zoro held her hand in his even as he refused to look at her. His face was so red now that steam would probably come out of his ears in a matter of seconds.

For a moment, Nami honestly thought he would combust.

But he still didn’t release her hand. Instead he held it tighter.

Nami chewed on her lower lip fighting the smile that wanted to grace her lips.

Just like that… everything felt better now.

Drat. She’s so screwed.

Nobody said a word. They remained quiet with their hands linked.

“So…” Nami began, deciding to break the silence. “Is this your way of—”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t evenlet me finished!”

“Just shut up.”

A hush fell between them again.

“So… you’re jealous?”

“Ugh. Shut up Zoro!”