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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

#yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #yandere vox #vox x reader

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luvrgirl555 · 1 year

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you're so fucking cool (warren rojas x reader)

3.2k words fem!afab!reader warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex an: send me requests or something. idk. insane lack of smut for all this guys on here. sickening. also this is based on the show not the book don't hate i don't read.

The sunshine was something that you were used to. Feeling the streams of light and heat soak into your skin was comforting. A lily of Southern California, it made you adept to warmth. Especially the humid warmth of rockstar house parties. Parties full of wine and cheese and sweaty dancing with men in fur coats and breaths filled with secondhand smoke.

You met Warren at one of these very parties. He knew the band, he said. You had no idea what band he was talking about, only attending the party in a short dress and thigh high boots to accompany your friend and her newfound semi-strange boyfriend.

He introduced himself to you. Asking you questions about yourself that weren’t obscenely sexual. Something that didn’t happen to you very often. Not in this social scene, anyway. You talked with him. Flirting back when he would flirt with you, and trying very hard to not blush when he did eventually compliment your legs.

He didn’t think you had noticed the glaringly obvious glances down to your breasts, but who was he kidding? Maybe he was a lot more high than he thought.

After that night, you’d been attending small parties and dinner dates with Warren for the past couple of weeks, at first so casually, almost as if you were friends more than you were fuck buddies.

What were you two?

Warren’s bandmates, Karen especially, constantly probed if he had asked you to be anything more than his 3am phone call and most consistent plus one in months.

It was something that you didn’t want to think too much about, thinking it a waste of mental energy to worry about what you could ever mean to a rockstar. You’d met so many, slept with so many and every one was the same as the last. You only had to make the mistake of wondering “what you were” with one or two of them before getting the message. You couldn’t wonder. It didn’t matter what you wanted to be, rockstars have to have an ego.

You could already tell Warren was different though, and that was confusing. He was so kind to you. It seemed genuine, and you couldn’t help but wonder and think about him on days that you weren’t with him.

Yes, there were the obvious reasons you never wanted him to leave your mind. He was gorgeous. No getting around that. He was one of the only men you had ever met who seemed to know what he was doing. Not only in his confidence about his band or about his move across the country but in his ability to make you cum.

All by himself.

It was as if someone had given him lessons, in which case, you wanted to send her a message of gratitude. You genuinely loved tangling your hands in his hair, you craved the feeling. Like you had placebo’d yourself into associating the texture of his hair on your fingers with the pleasure that would run down your legs and up your spine when he fucked you.

Now, whenever you kissed him while outside smoking, and a hand ran through his hair, your pussy would tingle in pleasure and you had to keep yourself from being so obvious and clenching your thighs together.

He picked you up from your apartment at around 9pm. It was dark, but humid and the air smelled like warmth and exhaust. He was riding in back of his bandmate, Eddie’s, car. You noticed a girl, you presumed Eddie’s date, was riding in the passenger seat when you got in the back with Warren.

“Hi!” He smiled as you got on and you smiled back.

“Hi, War. Hi Eddie!” You slid into the middle seat, rather than the right, so you could sit closer to Warren and he instinctually puts his arm around your back.

“Hi, Y/N,” Eddie puts his hand on the back of the passenger seat to look out of the back window and back at you to smile.

“This is my date, Catherine,” he glances at the girl in the passenger seat and you nod at her. She nods back and says, “Cat, actually,” with a small laugh.

The music turns up a bit and Cat and Eddie start talking. You finally look at Warren next to you and he gives you a big smile. He puts the cigarette between his fingers up to your lips and you take a drag before breathing the smoke into your lungs.

You had missed him. It was way too early into whatever this was to say that to him, but you had. You felt his rough, callused fingertips on your back, extremely close to your breast. He knew what he was doing.

You leaned into him. slowly placing your hands on his thigh that was next to you. You moved your fingers gently, slowly inching them higher as he laughed at you.

“I missed you,” he laughed.

You were caught off guard.

“You just saw me a couple of days ago,” you say, trying not to sound like you agreed with him as much as you truly did.

“Yeah, but you were wearing significantly less clothing then,” he winked, “You look really good.”

“So do you! This fur vest is incredible,” you complimented.

“I just got it! The single’s been doing amazing on the charts, man,” he says. You can tell he’s excited and by the way Eddie smiles in the rearview mirror, you can tell he’s excited too.

The drive isn’t too far. It’s to a house that Warren has never taken you to before. He gets out of the car first and you accept the hand he offers you to help you out before slamming the car door shut.

You hold his hand as he gets some drinks out of the trunk and switch to hooking your arm around his muscular one as you walk up to the entrance. Once inside, you’re almost immediately greeted by a slender woman with long brown hair who gives a hug to Warren, making you unhook your arm from his.

She introduces herself to you and gives you the most radiant smile that you think you’ve ever seen. You immediately trust her. After chatting for a bit, Warren leads you into the kitchen to pour you a drink which you accept immediately.

“Camila is Billy’s wife,” he explains while leading you through the sitting room filled with people.

“Oh, I get to meet the rest of your band tonight?” you ask.

“Hopefully!” His face lights up when he sees Graham and Karen cross the room to the two of you. “Here’s the rest of them!” He plants a firm hand on Graham’s back as Graham reaches a hand out to shake your and introduce himself. Karen nods her head at you, looking you up and down in a slightly drunk and mostly intimidating way. You and Warren talk with them until Karen asks Graham if he has a cigarette and Graham eagerly offers her one and they make their way across the room.

“Everyone is very nice.” You take a long drink from your glass and Warren looks at you thoughtfully.

“I’m really glad you’re finally getting to meet everyone,” he takes the empty glass from your hands and sets it on a nearby table.

“Me too,” you say and make the decision to wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him, not very hard, but his arms immediately reach around you and one hand lands on your low waist, while one lands on your ass. You deepen your kiss, curling one of your fingers in his hair. You pull away, breathing a bit before kissing him again, softer this time.

“We just got here,” he whispers in your ear, hints of a giggle on his breath.

“I thought you said you missed me,” you looked at him with wide eyes, blinking a couple times before pulling away from him, not before subtly grabbing at his crotch.

He gulped before catching your wrist in his hand.

“Follow me.”

He led you down a hallway and into a room that looks hardly slept in. Before you can even say a word, his hands are on your cheeks and his lips are pressing into yours.

“I can hardly stand seeing you wearing this dress anymore,” he unzips the back after pulling away from your face. Though the dress originally was low cut, when your tits pop out of the dress he has to keep himself from staring.

He starts grabbing at them with one hand while the other continues to pull your dress off your body. His lips reconnected with yours and his tongue is in your mouth. It’s moving more gently than his hand, which he uses to squish your tit in his fingers. You step out of your dress, which is now on the floor, in just your panties and boots, still kissing Warren. Your hand is on his arms and your eyes remain closed the entire time.

There’s a trust you have with Warren that you don’t typically have with other men. It’s so uncommon. You can’t explain any feeling that you have right now besides the wetness in your panties and the heat pooling in your stomach.

You start to push him back onto the bed, until he’s sitting on the edge and you’re immediately squatting down to undo his belt buckle and pull his pants and boxers down. His cock is hard, you can’t tell for how long but by the small whimper you hear from Warren’s throat you can guess it’s been more than a minute.

You immediately place a warm hand around the base while gathering saliva in your mouth. His hands find your hair as you lick the precum from his tip.

“Holy shit,” he breathes as you lick from the tip of his cock down the bottom and back up again. You place the head in your mouth and swirl your tongue around the top.

The precum tastes salty and warm. You bob your head around his dick for a couple of seconds, feeling a little bit of saliva pool on the edges of your mouth. He grabs you by your hair gently and pulls your mouth off his cock. You open your eyes, having them closed previously in concentration.

With the lack of warmth to the rest of your body, your nipples have become hard and sensitive, he gently moves his fingers around your breast, making you breathe shakily.

“Hey,” he smiles and you smile back, bashfully.

You put his dick back in your mouth, forcefully and he lets out a quiet moan before leaning back and saying, “You’re so fucking good at this.”

The compliment heats your core and start gently pulling at the base of his cock while moving your head backwards and forwards at the same speed.

He starts breathing a little heavier when you take the tip out of your mouth while a soft popping sound. You stand as he sits back up a bit and start to take your boots off. He watches you bend over, your ass facing him and your thong giving him a view of the entire thing. He licks at his lips, giddy, and feeling something that he doesn’t normally let himself feel about women he sleeps with.

When your boots are off you turn back to him. Your instincts want you to cover yourself with your hands, but you resist. He’s so happy you do and he reaches a hand out to you and pulls you to sit on his lap. He immediately notices the wetness on your panties between your legs and smiles.

His fingers, callused and rough slide their way down your stomach and into your panties. He fumbles a bit before finding your clit, but when he does, he knows and immediately you wish you could cross your legs because he’s rubbing at your wet clit and you’re breathing a lot more heavily than you were before.

You kiss him again, and he kisses back. Your arm snakes its way around his back and you tug on the curls, moaning a bit into his mouth as you pull and he smiles between wet kisses. He lays you down close to the center of the bed after pulling his fingers out of your panties and licking them clean with his tongue.

You stare as he pulls the fur vest off of his body, tossing it way more flippantly than he probably should, considering how much you think he bought it for.

You can more clearly see his chest hair, thin but covering his chest in soft curls and leading downward to his belly. You hum, delighted, when he lowers himself onto you and kisses you softly. Immediately taking your hands and rubbing them up and down on his chest. Just as you suspected, his skin is soft, smooth and warm. Slightly damp from the sweat, but it’s not as if you probably feel any different.

Warren swirls his tongue in your mouth. Thick sounds of kissing and the bed squeaking are all you can hear as you reach down his chest to his happy trail and below to gently pull on his hard cock as you kiss. He begins to kiss at your check then neck, stopping to suck right below your collarbones. He kisses your body between moans as you pull gently at his cock, only stopping to spit into your hands to lube them.

He shudders and stops where he’s sucking at your chest when you begin to roll your thumb over the tip.

“Y/N,” he breaths heavily.

You look up at him, the same big eyes you used when talking to him back in the living room.

His hands wander to the panties around your pussy. He feels them on your hips and starts pulling them down gently. You let him pull them as far he can and he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Your mouth gapes, breathing softly for air.

His eyes and your lips are full of desire. His hand reaches up to your mouth as he sticks his pointer and middle finger in your open mouth. You close your mouth with him and lick around his fingers, in swirls, the same way you just had is cock in your mouth.

You can feel his slender fingers in your entrance and you let out a small grunt, leaning back slightly to find a more comfortable position. You take a deep breath when you feel his nose and mustache tickle at this skin of your pussy. His fingers go deeper and it takes everything in you not to let a moan when his tongue finds your clit. That same swirling motion that you’ve used countless times on him, he uses on your clit and while your legs bend open and apart your hands again find his curls. His mustache rubs on your skin and you hum and breathe his name.

He smiles against you and he begins fucking you with his fingers. His long, slender fingers. His strong, pretty fingers. You can hardly take it until you’re pushing against his face with your hips. Your eyes close instinctually, focusing intently on the pleasure in your hips, your mind swimming in ecstasy.

“You’re so good at this.” You repeat his compliment from before and he pops his head up between your legs. He pulls his fingers from inside you and immediately you sit up slightly.

“I want you to fuck me, Warren,” you say with insistence.

He grins.

You quickly place a pillow underneath your hips as he leans over you once again, your eyes connecting and you begin to listen to the party outside the door for just a moment, remembering where you are.

It all feels so separate from this. From you. From him. From your togetherness.

You begin notice how little you’ve noticed anybody else tonight, which makes you feel a bit guilty considering a lot of them mean a lot to Warren. But you are so infatuated with him. You haven’t let yourself believe it until now, but you truly haven’t thought of a single other thing all night other than how much you want him.

Not just in a sexual way, but in the way that you want to be his.

Your legs spread, rather than when they would usually go on Warren’s shoulders. He leans down and begins to kiss you again, this time softly, warmly. You can taste your pussy on his lips. He rubs one of your arms while propping himself up with just his other. He pulls away to situate himself and position his cock at the entrance of your pussy.

He pushes in slowly and feels how tight you are around him.

“Is this okay?” he asks and you nod while whispering yes.

He pushes deeper and you instinctually let out a big breath, closing your eyes and feeling him pull out slowly.

“Deeper,” you say. He laughs a bit before going deeper and pulling back and forth. The more comfortable you get, the more of a rhythm he gets into. He is unsurprisingly great at rhythm and you start to squeeze at his dick as he pulls it back and forth. You kiss at his cheek that’s above you and move your hips in rhythm with him. He moans and whines as you try hard not to do the same.

“‘re so wet,” he whines to you and you moan softly.

“You’re so big,” you say sweetly and he shudders, trying to control how badly he wants to come.

You’re not lying. His cock makes you feel so full. You’re so warm and can smell him above you. You can hear sloshing as you reach down and begin to rub at your clit, accidentally bucking your hips forward into him and making his cock go deeper.

You close your eyes and breathe in pleasure.

“Warren,” you whine.

He continues to fuck you deeper, hitting your g-spot in rhythm with how you’re rubbing at your clit.

“I love when you say my name. ‘m so close,” he whimpers and you squeeze tighter on his cock.

“Warren,” you breathe louder.

He moans as pleasure begins to wash over you, paralyzing your legs from movement and squeezing on his cock tightly. He groans as he pulls his dick out from you quickly.

You’re breathe heavy as it feels as though, for just a moment, all the anxiety and pain in your body and leave and you’re washed with pleasure and warmth. You shiver as you feel warm streaks of cum cover your stomach and tits. You become aware of Warren’s breathing above you and impulsively take your hand, rub your finger along your stomach and put the cum covered finger in your mouth. He watches you intensely and immediately kisses you.

“You’re so fucking cool,” he says when pulling away.

You grin at him.

“I like you,” you say.

“I obviously like you, girl,” he says, as if it’s old news.

You look away shyly and he grabs your cheek, turning you back towards him before kissing you intently.

#warren rojas #warren rojas smut #warren rhodes #daisy jones and the six #the six #daisy jones & the six #warren rojas x reader

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prosperdemeter2 · 2 months

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Teaser Tuesday - glass

Haven't teased this in awhile 👀 It's slowly coming, but it's coming. I honest to God love this fic.

“Thanks for, uhm,” Evan trailed off, squinting his eyes against the harsh glare of rain on pavement. He shuffled his feet, his hand rubbing at the skin on the back of his neck and his cheeks dusted with a light spattering of pink. “For dinner.” He finished lamely. Eddie had lived in Boston for a season, now, and he still didn't think he'd ever get used to the noise. Evan lived near the harbor in a new, tall building that overlooked the water and sat against a backdrop of crystallized glass. It probably cost Eddie’s entire month's salary to rent there, and he was sure Evan didn't make enough at the restaurant - even as a bartender that moonlighted as a member of their kitchen staff when it was busy or he was bored - to afford it on his own. He knew he didn't. That he lived with his brother, a man Eddie had met only once and didn't have much of an opinion on. Things between Evan and Daniel were complicated. There seemed to be a lot of love there, a bucket full of respect, but something deeper that Evan clearly never wanted to talk about. “Of course.” He said and tried not to feel intimidated standing in front of all of that glass. Eddie should have left it at that. Gone back to Shannon’s hotel. Picked up Chris to put him to bed at an… entirely unreasonable time. “Even if it was in my own kitchen.” Evan said with a cheeky little smile, looking sideways at Eddie through his eyelashes. God, he was beautiful. With the dying summer heat and humidity clinging to his skin, the light tan to his arms, the way his hair was brighter in the sun, like it contained sushine itself, curls fighting to break free of where he had tamed them under a backwards base all cap with the Red Sox logo on the front. “It's not like I made you do any work.” Eddie accepted the tease for what it was, a stalling tactic. He leaned back against the cooling metal of his truck, thumbing his keys in his pocket. Evan looked at him, all of two steps away, on the sidewalk where Eddie was on the curb and dipped his teeth ever so lightly into his lower lip. “Would…” he swallowed, his adams apple bobbing in his throat, his eyes glancing down Eddie’s entire body in a way that made him feel like he had caught on fire and quickly been put out. “Would you like to come up? Daniel's working the late shift tonight.” Meaning… they would have the apartment to themselves. Evan's whole fancy apartment that probably had big windows and expensive furniture. He had been to Eddie’s, been pressed down into Eddie’s secondhand mattress, and slept on the pillows that had been empty for so long. Eddie could see how it would happen. They'd keep their hands off of each other until they were inside. Evan would push him against the door the moment he locked it. He'd ask for permission like he always did. And when Eddie gave it, he'd claim him as his own again. It would be slow, or maybe even a bit fast, depending, and it would be… he'd taste like Eddie’s horrible drinks, like the quesadillas he had made on the stove. He'd whimper and whine, and with no one else house they'd be loud for once. No bitten off noises or muffled sounds. His mattress was probably a lot more comfortable than Eddie’s could ever have a dream of being. “Yes.” He breathed out and then blinked, shaking himself. “But I can't.” Evan’s face did something complicated. A flutter of his eyelashes to show disappointment and then a roll of his lips in acceptance. No one's ever really… wanted me to stay the night before. He had said when Eddie offered it to him. “Oh.” He scratched behind his ear and cleared his throat. “Right, uhm… well, thanks for the… you know. Dinner.”

“I have to pick up Chris.” Eddie said in a rush. “Before, you know…” He joked awkwardly. Lamely. “Before Shannon does something crazy like… take him back to Texas or something.” Not that she would but the worry was still passivly in his mind. Shannon didn't want to be a parent, at least not all of the time, and they both knew that what Eddie had carved out for them in Boston was what was best for him now. “Otherwise… I would.” Evan tugged his lip into his mouth like he didn't believe him. Or, like he did believe him, but wasn't sure if he could. “Yeah?” Of course, he would. Eddie would have been dumb not to. But Chris came first, and Eddie’s libido (and love life) could wait. “Yeah.” Evan smiled, slow and shy. “Okay.” He said softly. Pleasantly. “Okay?” He blinked up at him, “Yeah. Okay.” Evan rolled himself forward, not allowing himself a moment to pause and think about what he was doing. His lips landed lightly against Eddie’s, wet and welcoming and a taste that Eddie wanted to chase for however long he was allowed it. “Goodnight, Eddie.” Eddie swallowed as he pulled back, settled himself inches away and tried not to lick his lips in fear that, if he did, he would lose Evan’s taste from them entirely. “Night, Ev.”

#buddie #911 fic #teaser tuesday #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #glass #Daniel lives AU

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lucalicatteart · 11 months

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Finally finished my weird hanging painting thing (originally a secondhand partially-done 'paint by numbers' kit that I found at a thrift store and kept to repurpose lol)! Imagery somewhat based in my own worldbuilding projects, and text written in my constructed language for one of my fantasy species, but also vaguely inspired by old tapestries and illuminated manuscripts and etc. I've never been great at neat clean patterning or text, but it looks cool from afar, and I always enjoy making "props" or things that are somewhat like real objects that might could exist in my world. :0

(additional pictures/info under the readmore)

Here's what it was originally! I probably didn't have to actually have a river running down the middle because it further makes the composition of the whole thing weird (various connected yet separate locations and things happening, instead of one unified event being portrayed), but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to fully cover up the already existing paint that was there.. and I can also kind of justify it by going with a more "all the imagery is just symbolic so it doesn't have to make exact sense" approach lol.. How is one half of the grass green and the other is suddenly snowy? shhhh.. it's not literal.. shhh...

Made a vague sketch, then painted over it, and then added more distinct lines in black pen. Center image first and border second.

The very last thing was the text, which actually took forever to translate because my conlang is still only like.. partially done, and some of the grammar is not worked out exactly how I would like it to be, so a few sentences I had to think about for a long time before just going "eh, this is probably not how I would do it if I considered it more, but I'll go with it for now" lol . I also am not entirely satisfied with all of the characters for the writing system, but again, it's good enough for a quick project, it doesn't have to be 100% accurate and perfect because it's a fake language that nobody knows anyway lol.

I thought about breaking down the text and translation here like I have for some of the tidbits of Avirrekava (the language) in things I've posted in the past, but I think it would take too long and is not interesting to anyone but me ghghj, so for the sake of getting the post out quickly, I shall not spend an hour typing All That lol.

The general jist of the writing though is that it's just about the Avirre'thel being cast out from the other elves, after abandoning their magic for immortality as a means to truly attain perfection (an important concept in elven culture), the usual, blah blah blah, but how it's Actually A Good Thing, because the gods are wrong and immortality is Cool actually and they like the shitty frozen lands they were sent to, so it's fine that everyone else is being a Hater about it lol

Lastly, here's a few photos outside in the sun to TRY and show the gold detailing actually shimmering or showing up! It really doesn't come through in photos, but there's plenty of little golden spots to highlight light or Importance.

Mostly the fire, the pink sparkle that represents magic, the red drop that represents blood, the light behind Inaashi's hands and head (common symbol for the elven religion/one of their main gods, shout out to anyone who read the ancient elven religion post and recognized that lol), the sun, and the symbol for the Avirre'thel/country of Navyete at the very top. I did a few other gold bits, but they're not highlighted because they're Significant, more just that it looked more symmetrical to have some gold on the border too lol.

Other things of note: The animals are not actually significant to Avirre'thel culture really, I just wanted to put a cat and a bird because I like them lol. (I also wanted to have a few funny looking creatures, as I was slightly trying to go with the 'in some old medieval painting the anatomy and perspective is very weird' vibe, though I think some of the other parts of it look too Normal to pull it off entirely). Same with the four leaf clover, which means nothing in their culture - but these are the only areas where stuff was just added self-indulgently .

Bligabata (giant cabbage that grows along rivers in Navyete) making an appearance! The architecture of the building IS based on actual concepts for ancient elven/older Avirre'thel architecture and metalwork. The Avirre'thel who's turning away from Inaashi/elves/magic and collecting blood, is doing so in a Special Bowl, as is part of their culture (collecting it in the hands, or just in a normal vessel would be disrespectful, they have Specific Bowls which is the only thing blood can be kept in, etc.).

The figure that represents Jhevona (and thus, a closer connection to magic, celestial imagery, etc.) is in weird ugly teal, which is not necessarily a color or design associated with them, as I don't have much common culture (like clothing) worked out for Northern Jhevona (who the avirre'thel would have come into contact with) yet, BUT everyone else is in more Typical colors (a northern elf in green, Inaashi in lavender + white + blue, an Avirre'thel in darker purples and reds).

Some things, like the four figures in the corners, and the two people + fish in the stream, do not currently have a meaning, but in-world they would.. Like, I could make up lore for how they're culturally significant and it would be true because I am god of the world, but I don't have anything currently. But just know.. they DO mean something, I just haven't decided it yet, maybe kind of fill in as I go, come up with a meaning later lol. Probably along the lines of an old myth from the ancient elven religion, a story, etc.

I don't know, probably other stuff, but that's my Trying To Keep It Short rambling for now lol. I'm just glad I finally finished this! For how vaguely sloppy it is up close (everything being completely freehanded, only used rulers once when doing the initial sketch and lining where the border should be + my hands are shaky + the canvas is bumpy + my handwriting is scratchy and terrible + etc. etc.) it still took a REALLY long time, even when not trying to make it all perfect. Especially if including the text translation + writing, which took like 3+ hours itself.

Maybe all the asymmetry/lack of things being centered is NOT because I was too lazy to measure anything, but is actually because in-universe, it's a practice illustration made by some young apprentice who has to work on little canvases for years before he can be trusted will a full sized mural or tapestry. It's his first week on the job! of course he's uncoordinated! don't laugh at him!!! lol

#worldbuilding #elves #I AM WORKING ON A NEW PAVENTURE POST also !!!! I know I keep being like 'oh I'm going to get back to that! I'll stick to it this time!!'#and then another whole month goes by without me posting a new poll adventure - however - this time I DID fully intend to so #*do another one soon but my beloved beautiful perfect cat unfortunately passed away AND there was a heat #wave ANd I felt sick for a while for unrelated reasons so I just genuinely was not focused on posting online at all #I am trying to get back to it though along with other things hopefully so.#ANYWAY #avirre'thel #irithoas #maybe???? not super relevant to elves but I'll keep it intheir tag anyway also. Just since their lore is so closely tied with avirre'thel s #stuff and they're mentioned in the post. Or the gods are. Inaashi is.#OIGUGUGUGUHH I should have done a tapestry with the FCJhjkING triplets!!!!! Sehalanora Semoniyare and the other one whatever the hell #his name is. ... sehalanora my beloved .. (I'm referencing the ancient elven gods - for those who dont know)#It's funny that I rarely watch tv shows and when I do I rarely if EVER care about characters at all in any capacity #with maybe like a handful of even then extremely minor exceptions so I cannot relate to the concept of like 'having a blorbo' or whatever #but then for my extremely niche worldbuilding content #.. it's like OMG MY FAVORITE character!!! my favorite obscure god from a religion #that I entirely made up myself for a cultural group that I also made up that literally only I and maybe like two other #people who are able to sit through my novel long dry and wordy worldbuilding posts care about!! you all know them DUH!!#even WITHIN modern elven culture in the world at the moment in current day most people do not give a shit about them hghj #BUT .. I should have made a painting of the siblings actually!!! I stand by that!!#I mean I like Inaashi and Nisateyu and everything too. Actually all of them are fine except for Ea'ivuyera I guess. whoever the #like War and Order bootlicker god is basically. and the Evil dumbass one. but all the others are fine. I'm suprised I'm even able to rememb #that many ancient elven goofily long names ghgh.. But I could have maybe made it about the elven gods #The thing is just that.. i Don't have ancient elvish worked out as a language and I knew I wanted to put text on it #so it kind of HAD to be something written/drawn by the Avirre'thel #Knwoledge of the ancient elven gods is still a thing in their culture. But usually more as a joke or just a common fairytale knowledge #sort of thing. not really something to make a painting of. Inaashi is here less because of Inaashi The God being genuinely significant and #and more just she's there to Symbolize the elven religion as a whole. just like all the other figures are mere symbols of things. etc.

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instarsandcrime · 9 days

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what fun words or slang do you hc for our hotel gang? 😊

(Like Husk using "chucklefucks" unironically for example 🤣)

Oh gosh, that's a good question! Let me go down the list here for as many as I can think of...

Char/lie:

-In the beginning of Va/ggie's fall, she was probably very in love and very awkward while she tended to Va/ggie's wounds. And as a fellow bisexual, would definitely throw finger guns and go "Hey...y-you?" before backing out and leaving. This has happened several times. The gay panic was probably too strong for her.

Va/ggie:

-For Char/lie I literally cannot think of anything except every Salvadoran nickname under the sun. I'm not even going to list them. Just think of any one of them and you've got it.

-Similar to Al/as/tor, but instead of terms of endearment it's terms of insults™

Al/as/tor:

-Purposefully calls Hu/sk names that put him down. In Loser, Baby there are a lot of insulting labels thrown his way, and I think after some time Al/as/tor did call him enough of those that purposefully also echoed other people to get under his skin a little more. Maybe some of those were Al/as/tor originals...

-Char/lie's are much more pleasant, but he especially likes to sneak in ma fée (my fairy, normally used for your child) as far away from everyone else as possible, and as close to Lu/ci/fer as possible knowing he's centuries old and knows what that means 10,000%. And as far away from everyone else because unfortunately, a small unfortunate part of him really does mean it.

Lu/ci/fer:

-Just. Just so many cheesy nicknames. He was once an angel, and angels are definitely sappy guys. 'Char Char', 'Stardust', 'Sweetie', 'Dear', 'Kiddo', 'My little girl', etc. Similar to Li/li/th! 'Lily', 'Darling', 'Love of my life', etc.

-Contrary to popular belief, Al/as/tor does in fact get a nickname. 'Him'. Everything else is just an insult so they don't count.

-I really enjoyed your fic Watch My Back and him calling Niff/ty 'little one'. I am sticking with that headcanon no matter what.

-Va/ggie gets extreme deja vu when Lu/ci/fer has trouble talking to her at first, knowing she's a big part of his daughter's life. So despite being straight(????) and not knowing our rich bi history, and without knowing Char/lie has done this, throws finger guns in the exact same way and goes "Hey...y-you?" before backing out and leaving. It's only happened once but Va/ggie definitely still remembers it.

Hu/sk:

-Oh An/gel Du/st. There are just. So many nicknames. I definitely agree with 'Chucklefucks' for everyone generally. Specifically, An/gel is much, much different and more personal compared to everyone else. He'd probably alternate between 'kid', 'loser', 'cher'-- in which he picked up Louisiana slang from Al/as/stor and will get away with it because he knows An/gel Du/st will never look up what it means (term of endearment for loved one)-- 'Ange', and probably when he learns his real name, 'Tony'.

-Calls Niff/ty 'the menace' or 'little menace' for obvious reasons.

An/gel Du/st:

-Calls himself 'gal' and 'dame' a lot. Fuck gender roles honestly, he's all for being called what he's rightfully deserved.

-He tends to share the 'loser' nickname with Hu/sk. But he does have others-- 'baby', 'sweetheart', and 'tesoro'. (treasure/darling). Which is unfortunate because he knows Hu/sk will look it up and get incredibly flustered every time it's used. NO ONE knows what this word means except Hu/sk and has no idea why he fled the room. At one point Pen/tious considers it a threat from secondhand observation.

-Leans a lot towards 'babydoll' and 'cutie' for Char/lie because he definitely sees her as a cute, shining ball of energy (and respects it, probably, considering where the show is going with him and redemption)

#non snz ask #ha//zb//in//ho//tel//#a/la/stor #an/gel/du/st #char/lie #va/ggi/ie #lu/ci/fer #hu/sk #ni/ff/ty

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ikayblythe · 11 months

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a visual timeline of rain world's dated events, because it's 2 am and im autistic

Now, some important info. You will notice there are conventional dates in this visual; these are not canon but instead help us humans understand the ancients' ideas of time. A cycle is never given an explicit definition as a unit of time, so here we will equate the large number in the date, or the "cycle," to a typical Earth year. As for the decimals following that number, we will assume those function as typical decimals do.

So to demonstrate:

1543.067

Cycle or "year" 1543

0.067 of a year

0.067 × 365 = 24.455

approximately the 24-25th day of a year

Jan 24 (or 25) 1543

Again, these are not canon! They help make it easier for us to see the time between events.

And without further ado:

So, why is this important? I dont know honestly. But Ill share my takeaways because its my hyperfixation and Ill do what I want with it >:]

Unparalleled Innocence and Five Pebbles are the certified babies of the local group and likely are the same age-ish. My guess is that they had to have been around 50-70 cycles old when the Ascension happened. Babies!!

Sliver of Straw most definitely died before Five Pebbles came to be. Five Pebbles only learns about her secondhand through Seven Red Suns. He was not there to experience that event, which means the ancients were! Given that her methods remain unknown, the only ones who could've known how she died would be her citizens. However, that info shouldve spread. What likely happened? The ancients saw Sliver of Straw as a failure and decided to use Void Fluid anyway.

It is better to think of the iterator cans as "developments" or "neighborhoods" rather than cities, given how compact they are, and also how young they'd be compared to real-life metropolises! Meanwhile a neighborhood can appear and change drastically within a decade!

That being said, iterators can "live" a long time. Biocement already exists in real life, and the self-healing microbial colonies can remain dormant for around 200 years! However, water is one of the worst things for a building. These colonies will activate when a crack forms and exposes them to moisture. And since it's well...rain world: frequent erosion by rain and complete lack of maintenance severely reduces an iterator's lifespan as a structure.

Could the first generation of iterators be over 200 cycles old at the Ascension? Perhaps! But I think we severely underestimate the exponential rate of technological progress. Look at the last two centuries in our own world. Iterators in general have to be a lot younger than we think, as their infrastructure cannot last long.

So taking all of this into account...my estimate for the timeline of the whole game and not just the dated events? Can't be more than 400 cycles/years. The iterators are dying and theyre dying pretty damn fast. Id say even 400 is a generous number, as all of the "present" campaigns [Artificer to Rivulet] dont show much major change, save for the Rot. However again, that's speeding up Five Pebbles' decay.

Now Spearmaster seems surprisingly old. However it could be a result of them being artificial. But if that is indeed well within a slugcat's lifespan, that adds more credit to your shipping. Excluding Saint of course. Everyone is definitely dead by then.

All in all, I think we severely underestimate just how much can change within less than 400 years/cycles. Nature is very fast at reclamation, and in a world as volatile as Rain World? Even more so.

Anyway I someone out there has fun being a nerd like me Ive gotta go sleep for real now 🤙 lemme know your thoughts my brain needs stimulation

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jobey-wan-kenobi · 1 year

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The Engines as Mentors

Okay but I'm eternally salty that TVS in particular—though it was RIGHT to expand the NWR fleet—failed to use the dynamic of the OG characters from the books all functioning as Mentors and Elder Statesmen to the newer and more obscure and younger engines.

It would have been THE way to effectively integrate the newbies (looking especially hard at you, HIT era). Like, some of the best use of the new characters already are when they fall into a mentee dynamic with one of the established characters. But the TVS writers really only ever let this happen with, like, Thomas? To a degree? And Edward? A bit? And then the best and most beloved BWBA episodes (BWBA!) are when Gordon and, again, Edward get more of this sort of material. And then again, in fuckin' AEG, the most popular thing so far seems to be Gordon's whole Grumpy Dad shtick.

But I think canon and fan writers should have done this with all the classic characters. After decades as The Famous Eight—erm, Ten—(but not Eleven—to me Oliver is in that category of newbie that needs looking after. which is what the rest of the Little Western spends most of his one book doing!) they are all kinda old af and well-qualified and honestly just should be mentoring the diesels and younger steam engines and whatever wide-eyed newcomers are brought to the Island Where Fever Dreams Come True and Culture Shock Is Probably One Hell of a Bitch.

LIKE. Percy. Yes, absolutely Percy! He's inconsistent about standing up for himself or making good decisions in his own working life but honestly his instincts when it comes to others have always been completely on-point. And he never has any hesitation about acting on his instincts so there is a recipe here for big-brother success. He must be so wonderful with uncertain new engines. I think he would have been much better for taking Molly under his wing than Thomas, and he must be a god among many of the newer tank engines. Like the dynamic I tried to paint in my headcanon post about Harvey—Percy gives whiplash as your mentor because he will always support you 100% but sometimes he will suddenly make the most baffling decisions and if you are not, yourself, a natural chaos gremlin, you are just along for the ride and possibly dying of secondhand embarrassment. But again, you also get over it because no one will ever show up for you more consistently than Percy the Caterpillar Engine.

The BWBA era thing where Gordon winds up mentoring Rebecca is... like, fine, I guess. I don't have any complaints about it, but—as I tried to show in my ficlet with him and Derek—I think Gordon's most typical mentorships have two unmistakable characteristics:

it is insanely arbitrary as to whether or not he decides to take you on. if you wind up in his circle of trust you probably weren't trying or even remotely expecting. it is also hard for anyone else to understand why Gordon looked at a new engine and said to himself "Yes. That one." Because the way Gordon makes emotional decisions is utterly impenetrable—this is RWS canon. Why did Gordon one day go from being Pure Unadulterated Jackass Whose Only Thought So Far In His Life Has Been "Me! Me! Meeeee!" to the engine who (evidently? without?? snark???) suggested the Fat Controller let Henry out of the tunnel to take a turn on his train? Honestly we don't know but it remains Gordon's signature style. Why did Gordon do an about-face after James took the express and graciously decide James was his new buddy? Well, to save face of course, but Gordon is also not above a good grudge so it feels like a coin toss. Why did Gordon decide to be super gracious when he rescued Percy and Thomas from their RWS scrapes? No one knows but somehow these moments are so quintessentially him (even though showing up moaning and scolding would have also been quintessentially him). And—most relevantly of all—there is what I regard as his archetypal moment with BoCo. 'My dear engine! You SAVED MY LIFE.' 'I mean, you're welcome for getting rid of them but they were never actually going to kill you.' 'YES THEY WERE. THEY HAD MURDER IN THEIR HEARTS. YOU ARE A GOD AMONG DIESELS, STANDING STRONG AGAINST THE FORCES OF DARKNESS.' '... Sure.' Gordon logic is not the same as earth logic and his reasons for rejecting or accepting others seldom make much sense.

If he does take you on, you may not even notice. Gordon is very stuffy and kind of... emotionally remote. His mentorship style consists of long rambling bouts of relating/boasting about his own experiences and/or advising you, without you able to get much of a word in edgewise—but then, he does this with everyone who is ever stuck with him—and doing extraordinarily nice things for you such as pulling strings to get you the best assignments or upgrades but he'll do it all behind your back, so it might take a while before you realize. (But you'd better, because even though he deliberately decides to do these things in secret, he will also privately feel hurt and hard-done-by if you don't figure it out and thank him. Or at least exclaim happily in his presence and sing the praises of your unknown fairy godfather.)

So yes, mentor!Gordon is a lot like friend!Gordon and worker!Gordon. He is pretty damn high-maintenance but he is also genuinely quite worth it. What his relationships lack in... comprehensibility they make up for in loyalty and generosity. ALTHOUGH. It's worth laughing because I think most of the engines he takes on are decent, polite engines who perhaps have some self-confidence issues. Basically it's like any engine he meets afterwards who is in the Edward mould he is actually magnificent to, which is hysterical considering that one of the keynotes in early canon was Gordon bullying the shit out of Edward. (I still think that wasn't malicious though, and more Gordon did not yet have the remotest understanding of Himself, Theory of Mind, or How to Be a Friend.)

If you have self-confidence issues but you do not win Gordon's capricious favor, never fear! You have James. Who is even more capricious, but that's not to say he's never been the most faaaaaabulous mentor in the world, c'est ne pas? Look. I want to see James as the catalyst for shy newcomers having a glow up. In appearance and attitude. I don't think he does he often but it has definitely happened around twice. I somehow have never actually watched "Rosie is Red" or "The Fastest Red Engine on Sodor" while paying attention but I've been assuming that's exactly how Rosie's Confident Girl Arc went down. Maybe he could be a similar idol for Neville or Flora. Another thing that has happened twice is James just flat-out corrupting a couple of the Good, Buttoned-Down Boys and Girls. I still want to see James take, like, Porter or Arthur and teach 'em anger. Introduce them to the world of (tiny) rebellions. By the time James is done with them, they are starting to Display Behaviors, and Act In Certain Ways.

Henry, I firmly believe (sticking out my tongue at most of the TVS and magazine writing for him), is actually regarded very intimidating. Like Gordon and James are intimidating too, but they are also known jackasses and the universe is known to have slapped them around reliably when they get too far up their own tenders. Also Gordon usually puts on an air of affability—in RWS it's Henry who is the Grumpy One (and meanwhile James, though he has a foul temper, is just too ADHD to be properly intimidating). I suspect Henry's actually always had the reputation for being extremely snobbish. Which is silly because he's only mildly to moderately snobbish, but there you are. He also doesn't put himself out there socially, but of course if you put yourself out there to him he's perfectly friendly. Anyway newcomers and young engines wouldn't know this right away. I think Henry's specialty is mentees in the mold of Bear and my OC Laura and even Rebecca—extroverted, expressive engines who show him respect. In those cases you see his best side, all kindliness and unstinting support. And Henry's support is really valuable, for the usual reasons that all the OGs have a lot of pull on the railway but also because Henry is surprisingly sage and sensible. He doesn't have the reputation for it the way Edward does, due to some of his notoriously poor decision-making in his earlier years and the way he can still sometimes be a bit literal or naive. But even if he's had to learn most things the hard way, he hasn't lied to himself about it and therefore he's developed a very clear-eyed view on things. Refreshingly simple and sound. We see this already in the RWS Super Rescue—he's got Bear and Spamcan pretty well-pegged long before the story ends. He also values engine solidarity in a really consistent, utterly unpretentious way that shows you he doesn't even think about it, it's just become a part of who he is. I love it. And, of course, he's bold as brass. He once hissed steam at his boss and essentially told him to fuck off for no better reason than it was raining and he just wasn't feelin' it. He had the most horrid wreck in the series and after being rebuilt he just got right back on that horse, pulling Flying Kippers again for the next century without the slightest sign of trauma. So if you need him for something, he won't hesitate to move earth and heaven for a friend. He may be a bit of a hypochondriac and likes to predict doom and gloom but he is fundamentally pretty fearless when it comes time for action. (Cut him a break with the elephant thing—he's allowed to have tunnel-related trauma, okay?)

Of course there was one extroverted engine inclined to hero-worship that Henry rejected in canon as a mentee, and that was Philip. Which brings us to Edward, and I fully agree with the fandom consensus that he is the mentor ever, capable of and inclined to look out for, like, everyone. All I'm saying is that I think the others can also step up in this way... Anyway, Edward's specialty of course is engines who are in the mould of Thomas, engines who are excited and eager to work but who talk a lot and might have a streak of mischief and who are definitely considered Too Much by everyone else. Edward likes energetic gremlins. They've always kept him young at heart. And, more importantly, they trust him so completely. Probably because they can tell he's one of the few who genuinely doesn't mind them at what everyone else considers their Most Annoying. He never tells them to hold still or quiet down or make themselves smaller in any way, so they are incredibly receptive to whatever he does tell them.

But what if you're Too Much and you are not eager? If you are not susceptible to admiring Edward's stellar work ethic? I think this is where Thomas shines. Like I think HIT abbreviated and simplified the conflicts with Dennis and Billy too much but it was such a gold mine. Because Thomas, see. You get these little sneaky rotters who don't want to listen to anyone—and at first Thomas seems like the most out-of-touch engine on the rails. Coz Thomas is a tryhard. He also has that whole "corporate positivity" thing going on. Like, the way I resolve the way TVS massacring my boy is by supposing that, after all, Thomas might have really tried to adopt that persona, especially in the '80s when he was inducted into the National Collection and the, well, television series got underway and Thomas becomes damn near the most famous locomotive in the world, certainly he knows he is an icon for children, and he might have figured that, well, this means I have to be a Good Role Model and Teach Children Valuable Lessons. And so he really did try to do this whole pep-talk, moralizing, sugary sweet encouragement thing (and he has a Word of the Day calendar, lol).

And the Dennises and Billies of the world look at that and—understandably, I think—retch a little. But then they double down. And the thing is, when they push Thomas too far, Thomas forgets to be sweetness and light, and just becomes himself. First of all, a foul-mouthed little drill-sergeant wannabe ("Cinders and ashes!!!!" "Who's been late every afternoon this week?!" "You're too fat—you need exercise!" "IF YOU DIE? IF YOU DIE, MOTHERFUCKER? SO WHAT?! I WOULDN'T GIVE A SHIT COZ I'D BE TOO BUSY FINALLY RUNNING MY GODDAMN TRAIN TO TIME." - all direct quotes from Thomas the Tank Engine, ladies and gents) Secondly, an extremely experienced engine who really has done a bit of everything by this point (he even hitched a ride on the Wild Nor'wester that one time, lol) and who is pretty skeptical so he's hard to fool (Percy was the last engine to really ever get one over on him, during the Ghost Train incident, and that's ancient history by this point). If you try to get away with doing a shitty job he's bound to notice and he will be quite acid-tongued if you've pierced his PR Persona. Third, although he can be kinda self-involved and the last to "get" what's going on with newcomers, he is surrounded by his old friends, who are all pretty good about either clocking an engine's whole Deal, getting all the tea like the gossips they are, or both. So while he was still in his amiable-idiot stage of your acquaintance, you, poor rebellious fool, thought you had the run of things but all the while he was getting up to speed on your whole deal. Which means you won't be prepared, should you really commit to ongoing antisocial behavior, for Thomas the Beacon of Children Everywhere to abruptly cast up your entire life story to you and to read it for filth, telling you the merciless truth about yourself in a way that the other engines pieced together but with which they probably never hit you deadass between the eyes.

Of course, this doesn't mean the would-be punks and malcontents who get onto Sodor are instantly cured, lol (though it has gone down that way a few times—my alternate version of Billy's intro story would feature an end where he's just gobsmacked into submission). Sometimes it just means you are going to decide Thomas is your Hated Enemy for Life, but you know what? You will have to step up your game in order to compete with him or even to gain enough clout to try and sabotage him so you're still playing into his hand (if we accept TVS's idea that 'Devious Diesel' did become a part of the Sodor family, I think this is how he was successfully integrated. At some point Thomas unexpectedly read him the riot act and Diesel was like 'who the FUCK are you?? like i know i already had beef with all the main line engines but where the hell did YOU come from???' but then after decades of competition they are essentially frenemies). But mostly the thing is, you are shell-shocked for just long enough, and you'd probably shift to being a bigger asshole than before... but, during that period where you're still burned, you are also looking at all of Sodor and every engine on it with fresh eyes (because if Thomas the Merchandise Engine could ream you out like that, perhaps you underestimated everything about this place). And you are noticing something else. Once Thomas has scalded you with his bitchery, he's also your friend. It's almost his version of sharing his lunch with you on the playground. (Something something salt and vinegar.) For all he rode Henry so hard from some of the earliest days of canon, I bet you he also beat down any 'outsiders' who took shots at him. For all he and Percy squabble, they are the closest of friends (and they weren't! for decades! but the more they squabbled, the closer they got). Getting into a knock-down fistfight is alarmingly close to Thomas's love language, and by the time he's savaged you verbally he is also invested in you. Once he's told you what he really thinks of you, he's also going to start showing up for you genuinely.

And that's when the little shits see the final side of Thomas. The genuine good humor. Obviously it doesn't win over everyone but there is a real groundedness and humility that I am sure Thomas can show (I tried to show this in the fic I made with @shinygoku based off their artwork of Thomas and Daisy) that is hard to resist. He's also fucked up along the way in every way imaginable so even when he side-eyes you, he's not looking down at you. I can just see him showing screw-ups a lot of grace so long as they let down their guard even somewhat because he's been there. Hoo boy, has he been there. That's why kids actually love him (it's not your vocabulary lessons and beaming smile, Thom, though the effort is appreciated), and it's why young engines can wind up loving him too. He doesn't hold what you've done in the past against you; he genuinely believes in second chances (and third, and...). Plus he knows every engine needs some excitement and responsibility in their lives. He has never forgotten the insanity-inducing frustration of being tethered to Vicarstown station.

Basically, once you cut past Thomas's earnest (and bullshit) attempt to be Perfect Kids' Role Model, he's actually always been great at keeping it real. And that's where a genuine respect can often grow.

#long post #ttte #the railway series #ttte analysis #ttte headcanon #ttte plot inspiration #ttte multiple characters #i'm out of steam #so as usual i'm gonna screw over everyone but the first six <3 #i mean rws actually shows us how toby and all the little westerners do this sort of thing #(which i think is a big part of why they feel so well-developed and intriguing)#it's just that tvs didn't really show them any love at all so it didn't carry over #but we know toby's approach from when mavis arrives #(not sure we're ready to have a real conversation about toby and mavis actually)#and we know how the little westerners do mentorship #as in oliver doesn't and the other three just try to keep him alive lol #and ofc toad actually does most of the work but i can't tackle the rolling stock right now #pragmatic sharp-tongued donald is the most buffers-off of the whole lot #but when he does give a word of advice it's always sound #and taken all the more seriously because it's so rare #douglas doesn't feel he's qualified to preach haha he's action only but ofc that's a language as well #i think FutureRust's 'The Bargain' portrayed that dynamic amazingly #esp in how she has duck and donald respectively look after others #in other 'as usuals' from jobey haha we'll end this with a shameless plug for some fic or another and tonight it's that one #maybe i should have included links to my own stuff in this but i'm too tired off it goes as is

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dyed-red · 1 year

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How do you think Sam felt about having sex with Ruby’s vessel? Did he need to rationalize that to himself or just the fact that Ruby was a demon?

this is such a delicious ask, i'm sorry it's taken me a while to get to.

there's just so much going on when it comes to sam/ruby. i draw a lot from comments from others on this, specifically those who are more familiar with the production and things the producers have said over the years in interviews. two things i've read as insights from the creative team (i think mostly from sera gamble?) are that:

it was important to sam that ruby's vessel was empty, otherwise that sex wouldn't/couldn't have happened (i think sera gamble had to fight for this or push its importance to her male co-creatives?)

sleeping with ruby was a form of "self harm" for sam.

I'm not sure where/how to find the original sources for those quotes as they're secondhand things I've read on tumblr about things said at cons and through other sources, but I fold both into my read on how Sam felt about having sex with Ruby and with her vessel.

So - to answer your actual question -

he felt like shit about it. and continued to feel like shit about it. and continued to do it. because he was in an incredibly self-destructive space and continued to be, and that self-hatred manifested in this particular way, for a variety of reasons.

And to unpack that a bit more...

1. sam has been possessed (by meg). he knows how it feels, and it Does Not Feel Good. his body was used to hurt people he cares about, to kill.

2. sam is consistently concerned about possessed vessels, where practicable. in the precinct seige during Jus In Bello, the fact that the "kill the virgin" spell could blast the demons out of the many possessed people outside is important to him. where dean reads the situation as killing an innocent woman, sam reads it as saving a few dozen people (at the cost of one, rather than the potential cost of many others if they try to shoot their way out). neither perspectives are singularly right but their different perspectives are informed by their different experiences, imo.

3. sam is saved by ruby wearing her 1.5 vessel and he promptly berates her for wearing some poor woman's skin, even if she saved his life, tells her that he doesn't want her help, and to get out of the car. he literally leaves her by the side of the road.

4. ruby 2.0 shows up with a certificate to verify that her chosen vessel is empty except for her. sam does not argue nor slam the door in her face, but asks for details. it's a major shift from one scene to the next in terms of how he is responding to her.

i'll also note that sam didn't complain about her 1.0 vessel's occupant during the time they were getting to know one another, which i think is interesting. my personal read is that sam considered that acceptable collateral damage in order to save dean from hell (what ruby promised him in season 3), and that after she failed to deliver, this compromise he'd made with himself over that collateral damage was no longer in play, nor was his patience for her.

(side note: i wonder if sam's greater tolerance of crowley, eventually, is because he came to learn or understand at some point that crowley's vessel is similarly empty?)

anyway, bringing all those points together, my read is that sam had to do a lot of self-rationalizing when it came to sleeping with ruby's vessel. sam is nothing if not pragmatic (if unhinged and insane) in his approach to dilemmas, so i think he could and did rationalize to himself that the body being empty means he's not hurting anyone by having sex with ruby in that form, but i don't think he'd fully convince himself.

so the discomfort and guilt and self-loathing would be... intense. she's a demon. demons killed his mother, his father, his brother. everyone he's ever loved. she saved his life. he doesn't trust her, he can't trust her. he can't afford not to trust her. he's got nothing left to lose. the only thing he has left is the part of himself that's stayed on the straight and narrow, that respects dean's dying wish, that refuses to turn into whatever his family (his brother) tried (died) to save him from becoming.

(sam himself lies to dean and says "it was practically your dying wish" that he not do exactly he's been doing (and more). sam knows there's betrayal here, and it's a betrayal that matters to him personally, or else he wouldn't hide and lie about it. he's never had any issue picking fights if/when he thinks he has the moral high ground.)

so... yeah. sleeping with ruby is an act of self-harm. he's obviously attracted to her vessel, and to her personality as ruby in that vessel, but that's not the key point. the key point is he hates himself for failing to save dean, for his brother dying because of him and being in hell because of him, and he's literally suicidal at this point in the narrative.

the fact that her vessel is empty is incredibly important, and i think a line he couldn't cross otherwise, but that doesn't mean he's okay with the fact that he's actually having sex with the body of someone who hasn't consented. and there's no doubt in my mind that somewhere in the back of his mind is both the fact that he's been possessed and has had his body used for things he was Not Okay with, and the fact that he's been dead (an empty vessel) and it's not like he would have been okey dokey with a demon possessing his corpse and sleeping with someone.

he knows it's a violation, no matter which way he slices it. and he uses that fact to hate himself a little more, so that the very act of sleeping with ruby is, in a sense, a way to punish himself for:

a) being attracted to her as a demon,

b) being attracted to her (helpless, innocent) vessel,

c) wanting connection because he's so goddamn lonely, and

d) being a monster/freak in the first place.

these are either things he's not supposed to feel because they're sinful wrong (attraction to a demon or vessel), or he deserves them (loneliness, feeling like a freak). this is what he's convinced himself of, and therefore how ruby acts as a both balm and escape (how it feels, how she soothes him) and punishment (how he deserves the influx of self-loathing and guilt and shame that comes from all that he is doing with her, from how this verifies all the worst parts of himself he was afraid of).

that being said -- as it goes i think he suppresses those feelings more and more because of what he gets from being with her, the connection and the blood and the high and the power and the sense of control over his destiny. but it's never that far from the surface, and we know how all that goes.

#oh my god this got both long and like... really unhappy about sam/ruby and his mental state during that arc #read at your own risk #sam/ruby #like that being said none of this is anti or crit #i goddamn love sam/ruby #but it is... deeply toxic #and very unhealthy for him #which is kind of the whole point #meta #my meta #a bit overwrought but i'm out of time to reread edit so here we are

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twdmusicboxmystery · 7 months

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Mork and Mindy in DD Ep 2

So, this isn't truly going to say anything much different than I already said in my analysis (that the episode was about romance and it was placed purposely to hint at Daryl's coming relationship, and that he had to be thinking about Beth) but now we actually have confirmation of it.

First off, everyone should go read this article:

Done? Good. Guys, they're drawing the parallels FOR us. This is one of those sites that would have posted this not only with Gimple's permission but at his direction. They want us to know what this was for and that it was oh-so-appropriate for Daryl's upcoming story.

Inside this article, there is also the Youtube video of the entire episode if you want to watch it. I'll repost it here as well:

youtube

The thing is, when you watch it, you see that the entire thing isn't just about romance. It's about MARRIAGE. What it takes to make a marriage work, and such.

So, I think it's safe to say that all our claims about the marriage symbolism that happened around Beth and Daryl in S4 was real.

I would recommend everyone read the article and watch the Mork and Mindy episode. I'll put our discussion about it below.

But I just love that they put this in the episode. I love where it's obviously going, and that it's so on-the-nose. Love everything about it!

Our Discussion:

@wdway:

You have got to read this Comicbook article about the Mork and Mindy episode. It makes my speculation about the reason they actually used Mork & Mindy (and Who's The Boss) very possible. They even bring up the the scene in Still where Daryl talks about Merle to Beth. They don't mention Beth but it's definitely a call back to Still.

I am so excited about this article. Can't wait to read your reactions.

@galadrieljones

Omg I read it so fast at first, I missed the part where he references the story with Merle and the cartoon with the talking dog. This is so interesting. Why did they feel the need to include that? They could have said literally anything else, like actual stuff that we saw Merle do, not a story we heard secondhand through Daryl in Still. Also, the four tenets of a successful marriage? Why include that as well?

@twdmusicboxmystery

Love it! I love that they’re making these connections for us. Gimple and Kang probably told the site exactly what to write. They’re calling back to Still and also telling us that this all about marriage. You know, in case anyone hadn’t figured that out on their own.

@wdway

I can't help but think that when Daryl goes all sad while he's watching the episode that that's when Mork was making his report and that when Mork starts talking about what makes a good marriage Daryl reminded of, if only.... with Beth. I may cry.

@galadrieljones

Seeing as Alone has the makings of a total wedding/marriage allegory I think she would be the only person he could possibly be thinking of

@wdway

I've been meaning to talk to you guys about this for a while. And I was actually purposely waiting to read some of the reviews of this second episode by Comicbook. I haven't checked it completely out, although in checking information out that is such a @galadrieljones skill. Have I mentioned you look really lovely this evening Galadriel, haha.

I believe Comicbook and Kirkman has some kind of connection. It seems like years ago I heard about some type of connection with them. Which means they probably have inside information from Gimple. They are fed certain things that other articles do not seem to have. In reading the review that they did before the show started remember it was Comicbook that mentioned Beth in the first paragraph.

They also refer to Carol as Dary's best friend. They've done that numerous times in different articles. My theory in waiting to mention this was to see if there was some kind of mention of Beth or to one of their episodes and sure enough it's right in this article. The mention of Merle and the story about the dog cartoon confirmed my suspicions.

I will never be able to see that scene and Daryl going so sad suddenly without believing in my heart he's listening to Mork talking about marriage.

@galadrieljones

Thank you. I appreciate the compliment as I am feeling quite grungy tonight so this is the confidence boost I crave. I will try to see if I can find anything!

I tried to do some reading on comicbook. There's no like, immediate link between them that I can find, other than that there are a TON of stories about him on that site. The one kind of interesting thing about comicbook that I found though is that it is owned by Paramount Global, which is obviously a huge media conglomerate. Like it owns a LOT of everything. I scanned its assets and it has several formal partnerships with AMC. In their "about" section, they state overtly that they have direct contact with "tainers and creators of the industry" and their executive editor worked in PR for Marvel for 7 years before taking over comicbook.

The president and founder of comicbook, Joe Blackmon, is a director for Paramount and also serves as the executive editor for popculture.com, another Paramount venture. Kirkman has worked with Marvel several times and is generally one of the most well-known comic book writers and creators in the entire industry. Walking Dead is his most famous work, but he's had a bunch of other important comics and also has his own comic book imprint, Skybound.

Idk I think it's safe to say that comicbook.com is a fairly reputable publication, and just based on how often you guys have cited it as a reliable source of information for TWD, it seems particularly noteworthy. Also, the guy who wrote the article about Mork and Mindy, Cameron Bonomolo, is the same guy who wrote the review for Daryl Dixon that you're citing. He's been on TWDU beat for comicbook since 2017, so it's fair to say he'd be a trusted ally by tptb at this point. Anyway, sorry I can't verify any direct involvement by Kirkman lol. But I will say I'm honestly pleased that this is a Paramount Global brand because it just means they have a legit footprint in the industry, and their information can most likely be trusted above other sources.

@wdway

Thanks so much for doing that research. When I was reading all of your information skybound stood out to me. For some reason I think that might be the connection, but I don't know for sure. Surely it would have showed up when you were going through.

And yes, the writer Cameron Bonomolo is always the one I make sure had written the articles. I always find most of his writing to align with our view of the show.

I went back to reread the article again because I wanted to really look at the four things to have for a successful marriage. You guys might have already discovered it, but I didn't realize that the episode actually can be accessed through the article. So, I watch the whole thing and it's worth at least skipping to the end of it, the last few minutes where Mork gives his final report.

You'll have to go and watch because the last part is the knife to the heart with a twist. In hearing Mork explain the four elements, it so screams what Daryl probably felt with Beth. I wish I had written it down and probably will go back to rewatch the end to get that last couple of minutes. It was about making someone feel they are of value. I just know it must be the feeling that Beth gave Daryl about himself. Then I also noticed when I went back that this is from Mork & Mindy season 4. I just thought because of it being from s4 that makes another suspicious eye roll. Now it would have been fantastic if it was s4 e13 like Alone, it was not, it was e22. I mean seriously, what is it about the number 22.

@galadrieljones

Omg I love that. I will have to watch it tomorrow! I did love that show as a child, so I’m sure it will be a neat little bit of nostalgia. Also something else that stuck out to me in the article is the fact that they worked really hard to get the rights to the episode. They must have really really wanted this one specific thing.

@wdway

I went back and watched the last of the Mork & Mindy episode where Mork is giving his report to his supervisor, who ask Mork why bother with marriage, this is Mork's reply. The work is hard and the hours are long. When I look at Mindy I see warmth, I see love, I see someone who makes me feel that I matter in this vast lonely world. It's so simple but at the same time so very moving. You will never be able to convince me that this is not what Daryl is hearing when suddenly he looks so sad. I feel that he personalized it thinking of his time with Beth. When I look at Beth I see warmth, I see love, I see someone who makes me feel that I matter in this vast lonely universe. Daryl wants to matter to someone in this vast and lonely universe.

@twdmusicboxmystery

So beautiful!

@galadrieljones

Of course that is what he felt. It draws attention to the idea that no matter how much love and support he has from the ppl around him, to Daryl, it doesn’t feel specialized or “just for him.” I think this is not important to all ppl or characters but to Daryl who has been basically starving for love his whole life, the idea of having one person who loves him more than they love anybody else and who understands him through and despite his faults while making him want to be better so that he can better care for that person in return is perhaps the ultimate dream

I agree it’s so beautiful and thanks Ann for watching and reporting back!

@wdway

I wish we would have heard it in the episode. Of course it would have been in French but I would have taken subtitles. The article seems very purposeful though and to include the episode very important.

It was very enjoyable to see Robin Williams so young and lively. This is what helped really launch his career and made him such a beloved comedian. You may not be as familiar with the comedian Jonathan Winters who plays Mork and Mindy son. He is like a Benjamin Button character on Mork's planet they start out old and grow young. When their son was delivered in an egg he was an old man. If you thinking while watching but Jonathan is trying to act like Robin Williams that is a wrong impression because Jonathan Winters was Robin Williams comedic idol and a lot of how Robin used comedy was taken from Jonathan. In this episode you'll see two other characters, one is an older man which is Mindy's father and the woman is if I'm not mistaken her grandmother I think it might have been her mother's mother.

@galadrieljones

I am watching the episode! It's so wholesome. I also looked up some information on this episode and I was interested to learn that it's the last episode of the entire series. The show was unexpectedly cancelled, or not renewed, and even though this episode was filmed prior to the original final three episodes of the season, they moved this one to the end because it felt like an appropriate way to close the series, which is ultimately about their true love and relationship.

A happy ending to foreshadow a happy ending, perhaps?

@twdmusicboxmystery

I watched the Mork and Mindy episode. I don’t have anything to add that you both haven’t already said. I just couldn’t help but he struck by the fact that the entire episode is about marriage. No way that’s not purposeful. Which means Daryl is headed for a happy marriage, one way or the other. All those who think it’s with Carol stand on your head.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #team delusional #team defiance #td theories #td theory #beth is almost here #bethyl #daryl dixon spinoff #dd spinoff #mork and mindy #daryl is getting married #Youtube

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nehswritesstuffs · 6 months

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How Dr. Hart-Steeler Saved the Logue Town Royal Revue

I literally had the idea for this in the shower during summer, so congrats.

9835 words; full disclaimer in that I’ve never watched a single drag competition, mostly because I don’t like reality/competition shows in general (except sports, and I wouldn’t say this is a sport while still acknowledging how Serious Business it can be), so please forgive me if something’s off or I did something weird like used your fave irl queen’s name or whatever bc I don’t even know how to cosmetics correctly let alone be this fabulous; tangibly related to Double Date from Hell (FFN/AO3), but I guess you don’t need to know much other than that Law and Nami are dating the same time as Cora-san and Bell-mère, to hilariously mortifying results; this took me so long to write partially due to Secondhand Mortification and a serious case of the Giggles or y’all would’ve had this back in, like, August lol; shout-out to Gen for suffering through me and this fic all these months, because ooohhhhh they be suffering

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Having never really considered himself weak in the ankles, Law was beginning to rethink his lifelong self-assessment as he slipped his feet into the absolutely terrifying shoes that had been shoved in his direction. With Nami on one side of him and Perona on the other, Law shakily attempted to stand, not enjoying the extra wobble he gained by simply standing still.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people,” he grumbled lowly. His girlfriend, however, scowled.

“You live in heels—I don’t want to hear it.”

“I wear boots, Nami-ya, not whatever torture devices these are.” He looked out over the rows of shoe racks and saw that the difference in height was… concerning. “Fucking hell—these have three extra inches than normal.”

“Well, yeah,” Perona scoffed. “You need to look your best, and they’re already doing wonders for your ass.” She hummed. “Well, what little you’ve got, anyhow.”

“Why are we even here?” Law groused. “Can’t I just order some online?”

“We are not,” Nami said, “because I am not going to have to deal with ordering shoes for your massive man-feet and then them not fitting properly. Turnaround is way too quick for us to need to worry about shipping.”

“I feel like a fool,” he grimaced as he continued to curse the integrity of his legs.

“We did not drive to the only shoe store in Greater Logue Town that carries wides in-stock for you to chicken out,” Perona scolded.

“I’m not chickening out,” he insisted sourly. “I just have way too much coordination to know first-hand why Cora-san practices walking in these things.”

“Well, you’re about to get a lot more familiar with them if we’re going to get you anywhere,” Nami said firmly. “Now go ahead and try to walk to that rack there.”

Two steps and Law went sideways into a shelving unit full of narrow-widths. Nami and Perona stared at one another—they had a lot more work ahead of them than they had feared.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

One month earlier…

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Pulling into the driveway, Law was glad to finally be home. He had been covering in Emergency for the past week, meaning that he was practically living between Logue Town General and Penguin and Shachi’s couch for exactly that same amount of time. Now all he wanted to do was relax, eat something, and fall face-first into his bed and not wake up until Nami came over in the morning. It was honestly all he could do to not head on over to 1000 Sunny Rd and fall asleep in her bed there instead, but knew that there wasn’t an amount of money in the world he’d accept to sleep in that house without her protecting him. He didn’t care what was going on—extremely loud sex could be happening right at that very moment and Law was certain that it wouldn’t even register with him.

…because, yeah, even though it was extremely weird and awkward that Cora-san and Bell-mère-ya were fucking, he wasn’t going to allow that possibility to deter him from sleeping in his own bed.

Instead, however, when Law entered the house, he heard the telltale click of heeled shoes against the kitchen tile. There were only two reasons as to why heels were in the kitchen, and since Nami’s scooter wasn’t parked outside…

“Practicing already?” he mumbled as he shuffled into the kitchen. A glance over at his foster father showed that, yes, the older man was in his highest pair of heels, looking ridiculous in his skinny-jeans and bedazzled mega-pumps.

“Hey, you know how long it takes me to get used to these,” Cora replied. He shakily took a mug of coffee from the counter to the table and sat down, breathing a sigh of relief. “Izou says this time is gonna be big.”

“It’s just the charity drag show,” Law noted. He shrugged off his jacket and began to root around in the fridge, wondering what had appeared in it while he’d been gone. “It’s the same thing every year: you and your friends dress as women and do skits and ticket sales go to whatever organization doesn’t hate you at the moment. What makes this year so special?”

“We’re expanding, for one,” Cora said. Law found some store-bought onigiri hiding in the fridge and put it on the table before grabbing himself coffee as well, his mug ceramic instead of Cora’s silicone. “This year we’re going to have not just Queens, but Kings and Enby Royalty as well. You’d know this if you attended the meetings.”

“I don’t need to attend committee planning meetings to know it sounds like the perfect thirst trap cocktail; Penguin and Shachi will be more conflicted than usual.”

“Belle’s participating.”

“Good for her.”

“So is Izou’s kid sister.”

“Isn’t being trans, but also a drag king, cheating according to some people?”

“She’s the one who demanded there be a non-aligned Royalty category, to alleviate that potential problem while still shaking things up,” Cora shrugged. “If Nami-chan didn’t already have your dick on lockdown, I’d say…” He stopped as Law gave him a deadpan stare. “What? She’s tall, she’s cute, she likes swords, she literally can’t be weirder than us…”

“This conversation is getting worse with each passing word that comes out of your mouth.”

“…andthewinnersoftheRevuearegoingonImpelDragRacenextseason.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to him, but Law stopped shoveling tuna salad into his onigiri and stared at Cora and the whiplash-inducing topic change. “Come again…?”

“The winners of each category are going to be featured on Impel next season!” Cora repeated, stars in his eyes. “A chance to meet Iva themself…!”

“You know, I can just haul you over to Strawhat-ya’s next weekend if that’s what you want to do.”

“Now that’s cheating,” Cora said decidedly. “I want to meet Ivankov on a professional level, not as ‘your godson considers my son one of his besties against his will’. It’s lame.”

“…and you were going to tell me all about this when…?”

“Eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“Eventually.”

Law took a deep swig from his coffee mug, glad he was long-past the point where caffeine wasn’t going to do jack fucking shit except paradoxically soothe his nerves. “I should plan to go camping that weekend.”

“You wouldn’t!” Law simply stared at him and bit into his onigiri, too tired to banter. “We’d be down four of our most long-term staff!”

“It’s bad enough that every year Penguin and Shachi are in a weird philosophical rut about ‘what even is gender and sexuality’ for three weeks after the show,” Law reasoned. “You might get them for a few hours but I have to deal with the lasting fallout.”

“Fallout that is worth it considering we get a handful of normies who are trained medical staff and willing to beat up troublemakers to defend our honor.”

“Mmhmm—you can defend your own honor just fine,” Law scoffed.

“Not in these shoes I can’t.” Okay, he had a point there. “Please, son… for me…?”

Law sighed, his tank well-past empty. A grown man and he was still trying the pity card from back when he was a teenager freshly rescued from both the system and his brother’s grasp…

…because of course he was going to help. It was on his calendar, wasn’t it? Law took another bite of onigiri and sighed through rice and tuna. Only Cora-san.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a few days later in the house at 1000 Sunny Rd and Law knew he was in trouble. Although she did greet him with a kiss when he arrived, his girlfriend was pointedly ignoring him as the afternoon went on. It was unusual for Nami to act as such, and he simply let the situation stew as he got roped into her friends’ other antics. Zoro had even pulled him into a sparring match in the backyard, which was even more of a rarity.

“Do you know what I did?” he asked as they were cleaning up. The younger man shrugged.

“It’s hard telling with the witch,” Zoro scoffed. “I get in trouble with her by breathing, so who the fuck knows? All I do know is that she’s been spending more time here than usual, so it’s probably something to do with something not-here.”

“I’m sure we’ve dealt with worse,” Law replied, exhaling heavily. “I don’t know how any of you handle her platonically…”

“By reminding myself that she’s the one who fronts bail,” Zoro reminded him. Law nodded; good point. They threw the equipment into the shed and trudged back to the house, where a plate of onigiri each was waiting for them on the counter. “Ah, shit-cook, how did you know?”

“It’s called not wanting your miasma of body funk hanging around my kitchen any longer than it has to,” Sanji deadpanned. “Now scram, both of you, before I kick your skulls in. You can only come back after you’ve showered.”

“Shower Day isn’t until tomorrow,” Zoro reminded him. Sanji cringed and flipped him his middle finger—clearly he was far from the mood for pleasantries.

“That is nasty, I hope you know,” Law said. “As a medical professional I’ve got to side with him on this one.”

“People aren’t designed to wash that often,” Zoro grumbled. He took his onigiri with him as he retreated to his room, muttering the entire time about Sanji being things such as ‘prissy’ and ‘high-maintenance’. This left Law to his own devices in the unusually-quiet house; most of the regular crowd was either at work or off chasing after Luffy somewhere.

Sighing, Law decided to at least take advantage of the quiet and get some stuff done. He went into the office area with his onigiri and found where he had placed his work bag. Sitting down on the pleather couch (all the better to wipe his excess sweat off later), he opened his laptop and began reviewing patient charts. He had a ridiculous amount of procedures quickly approaching to accommodate his time off to help with the Revue and he wanted to make sure there were no surprises. About an hour had passed when Nami came into the room and staggered in shock at the smell.

“Fuck… you reek like Zoro,” she grimaced.

“We were working out together,” he explained. Law watched as she grabbed her own laptop and hesitated, staring at him. “Like what you see?”

“A bit annoyed at what I see,” she replied. “Your dad has my mom being weirder than usual.”

“It’s no different from cosplay,” he shrugged.

“Usopp cosplays. Bell-mère is stomping around the house acting like she drives an extended-cab-short-bed pickup truck.”

“That’s different from how she normally acts how…?” he asked. Nami folded her arms across her chest and scowled sourly at him. “Hey, I’m not the one who was raised by the woman.”

“True, but it doesn’t change the fact that her practicing her act is more than aggravating.” She frowned as he shrugged at that; it wasn’t his fault that their parents were the way they were. “It’s one thing having some of the goobers around here get into it, but Bell-mère is another.”

“…and you’re going to take it all out on me? I’m insulted, Nami-ya.”

“You don’t look much insulted.” She ran her eyes up and down her boyfriend, trying to calculate how long she could stay cross with him specifically before her libido gave way. “You’re allowed in my room, but only if it’s to go straight to the shower.”

“…and where might I be allowed after that?” he asked, already standing up and reaching for the sanitizing wipes on a nearby table.

“Bed, where we can finish our work,” she wiggled her laptop for emphasis, “and then we’ll talk.”

He shrugged and popped the canister open with his thumb; he’d take it. “I’ll see you up there.” He threw in a wink for good measure, only for her to roll her eyes in exasperation.

“It’s like I’m dating an old man,” she whined playfully before leaving. She knew full-well he’d only try to prove her wrong later for that comment. In fact, Nami would almost place money on it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Later that night, as Law resisted going to clean up his condom in lieu of being too damn comfortable, he was alerted to the concept of something being wrong as Nami sighed heavily. He hugged her hips a bit tighter and nuzzled her chest, glad at least she hadn’t stopped carding through his hair.

“What’s the matter?” he wondered cautiously.

“Just… still thinking about Bell-mère,” she admitted. “She’s been really happy since she hooked up with Cora-san again.”

“I can almost guarantee that is reciprocated.” He felt the gentle scrape of her nails on his scalp and nearly melted. “You know… this drag thing… it’s pretty harmless…”

“Oh, I know that much,” she chuckled lowly. “It’s just going to be a pain in my ass, like everything about you weirdos.”

“I resent that.” He took a playful nip at her breast and let her roll them both over as she giggled. She then sat on his midsection, partially pinning him. “What? I thought this was a thing because I bring just as much braincells into this house as you do.”

“Doesn’t make you not a weirdo,” she smirked. She gently pressed her knees against his shoulders and hummed as his inked hands found her thighs. “Good thing I like weirdos so much.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“It’s going to cost you.”

Something told Law that he was going to enjoy paying the price.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It had already been a long day at Logue Town General when Law, Penguin, and Shachi took their lunch break. Bepo had lost the impromptu rock-paper-scissors competition, meaning the charge nurse was stuck back on the floor while the other three were jammed into their usual booth at Don Silver, the restaurant empty aside from a few other sets of scrubs and the occasional delivery courier.

“Cora-san wants me to remind the both of you that the charity show is coming up,” Law said. He was stretched out on his own side of the booth while the goobers sat on their own as they demolished the breadbasket. “He signed us all up again.”

“Should’ve known this was how our life was gonna be,” Penguin muttered through a mouthful of bread. Law raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “The first time we were allowed over to your dad’s, he was literally practicing his routine.”

“Can you fault him for taking advantage of his semi-androgynous profile?”

“No, but I feel like we’ve worked every single one of these charity shows since we met him.”

“Not to mention the fact that we can’t even meet women at these places because something, something, something, no fraternizing with the customers for our own safety on orders of Cora-san,” Shachi mentioned. “Come on; this is, like, a complete drag. Figuratively. And literally. And several other qualifiers.”

“Besides, we show up with a literal bear; how can we compete with that?”

“That’s your problem, not mine.” Law eyed Gin as he came over with their respective meals—burgers for the techs, a shawarma wrap (no pickles) for the surgeon, and a giant plate full of fries—and put his legs down so the proprietor could slide into the booth next to him.

“So, I hear there’s a ripple in your old man’s charity show,” Gin grinned. It would have been menacing if it weren’t for the fact that Law could probably flip the guy over with one hand.

“Since when have you cared about my dad’s charity show aside from letting us put up a flyer for it?”

“Since it’s apparently a really big deal this year, but also will make Blackleg extremely uncomfortable if I show up.”

“If your place wasn’t so tasty and conveniently-located, I’d say you’re an ass for that comment and several others,” Shachi frowned around his burger. Gin shrugged.

“You know my beef now; like I give a shit.”

“You’re such a sore weirdo,” Penguin added. With his sight line towards the door, his eyebrows shot up and he kicked Law in the shin to get his attention as the other man was picking at the fries. “Look alive: Bepo’s about ready to have a crisis.”

“You people are going to be the death of me,” Law groaned. He heard the sleighbells on the door chime and before long Bepo was standing at the booth, looking indeed as though he was about to break into hysterical sobbing. “You know I have a pager and my cell phone, right?”

“I don’t think this is something that you want to hear over the phone,” Bepo said, wringing his paws. “I just got a call from Marco down in the ER, and… and…”

Shit—that wasn’t good. “…and…?”

“He says your dad’s being less dramatic than usual…?”

Panicking, Law pushed Gin out of the booth and ran out of the restaurant, glad that it was literally in the hospital’s shadow. He hurried past security and into Emergency, where he found one of the most horrifying sights possible:

Cora-san. Laid up in a hospital bed. While Marco instructed some sap doing clinicals on how to properly wrap a freshly-set broken leg in a cast.

Oh hell.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was two days after Cora-san had been released from the hospital and Law suddenly found that his father’s milquetoast cookie-cutter suburban house had suddenly become Drag Central earlier than normal. He didn’t mind his foster father’s friends from the drag circuit—in all honesty, they were some of the nicest people he’d ever known—but at the same time, there was way too much overreacting going on and he did not wake up with enough wherewithal, mana, or general patience that morning to deal with much more than the drama queen he actually lived with.

“There has to be something we can do,” Izou frowned as Law was bringing a tray full of drinks into the living room. It was only Izou, his younger sister Kiku, and Marco at that point; the three of them plus Cora-san were essentially the core of the planning committee and had shooed out the others by that point. “Our regulars are going to expect Rosi Thoughts—if she doesn’t show up, then it could be a disaster.”

“This one imagines there must be some sort of way to do a routine from a wheelchair,” Kiku said. She pondered the concept carefully. “The venue is handicap-accessible, after all…”

“Only for the patrons,” Izou noted. “You haven’t been behind stage yet, but the back wasn’t built with this sort of thing in mind. We’re just going to have to figure something else out.”

“I can do the routine in crutches,” Cora-san offered. He accepted his no-spill tumbler from his son and pouted. “I don’t want to let down any fans!”

“No,” Law said firmly. “Marco-ya showed me your break—it won’t be well enough for a walking cast by then.”

“Patient confidentiality!” Cora-san gasped, pointing at Law in horror.

“You’re my foster father, not my patient. Besides, it would be Marco-ya you’d have to point that finger at… if I wasn’t listed as your emergency contact, that is.”

“He’s got you there, yoi,” Marco chuckled. He was about to continue when the front doorbell cut him off. “Huh… I wonder if that’s Thatch coming back…”

“I got it; I got it…” Law grumbled. He went to the front door and opened it, only to be met by a person in a baby-pink suit, a bowlcut, and a trowel of makeup. “Auditions are closed; they’ll get back to you.”

“Where are they?!” The new person barged their way into the house, pushing past Law and not even caring that he was there. They caught sight of the group sitting around the living room and their face lit up. “Ah! Here must be the belles of the ball—Shenix Fyre, Ganmodokidoki, and…” their eyes landed on Cora-san, “Rosi Thoughts.”

“…and who the fuck are you?” Law asked. Another person came in, this one dressed in orange and white while looking decidedly feminine.

“My name is Inazuma, and this is Bon-chan,” she replied. “We’re here as representatives of Impel Drag Race. We have reason to believe that your production might be in jeopardy?”

“What ever gave you that idea?” Kiku giggled sweetly, trying to throw them off the scent. Bon-chan gestured at Cora-san’s leg with a flourish.

“We’re not here to call the show off, but we are here to inform you that you need to make sure the show goes on with the same amount of contestants,” Bon-chan replied importantly. “We are planning on doing an entire episode revolving around local and independent events like the Logue Town Royal Revue and to have anything less than the nine contestants we were promised is a breach of contract.”

“…but this isn’t someone dropping out because they’d rather go on vacation,” Izou frowned.

“Indeed, yoi,” Marco chimed in. “I work at a hospital—what if I came down with something two days before the show?”

“It doesn’t matter—it’s in the contract,” Inazuma replied. “We’re here as a courtesy to make sure you are aware of the stakes and know that it’s no offense and standard procedure. Iva wants to have a contestant from your revue, so they’re giving you a fighting chance.”

“The show is only a few weeks away,” Cora-san frowned. “We can’t just cook up a replacement that fast! Auditions were months ago! We’d have to contact everyone again!”

“Then you might have to go on an accidental breech of contract and try again next year,” Bon-chan said. “It would be your first infraction, so it’s not like it’s a weighted disqualifier…”

“I’ll do it.” The entire living room stared at Law and all the breath felt as though it left his lungs; fuck, he said it out loud. “I… I’ll take his place. Make it three in the category again.”

“…and you aaarrreee…?”

“Law, kiddo, you don’t have to…”

“I’m his kid—if I take his place in the show, will it still be a breech of contract?”

“No.” Bon-chan pursed their lips and looked Law over. “Ever perform?”

“No, but I’ve been helping out with the show since I was fifteen, and that has to count for something. If I win, then he gets to go on Impel.” He gestured at Cora-san, who was too choked up with tears to say anything. “Let me be a stand-in—it’ll work.”

“A child sacrificing for their parent in order to keep the show going… I love it!” Bon-chan squealed, mood shifting violently. They spun around, nearly knocking over drinks in the process. “We’ll let Iva know right away!”

“We’ll look forward from hearing from you soon,” Inazuma nodded. She deftly dodged Bon-chan as they somehow pirouetted out of the house, leaving the committee more startled than anything. They all turned towards Law, who went deathly pale as his brain caught up with him and the events of the past ten minutes actually sunk in.

Oh… oh no… what did he just do…?!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nami parked her scooter outside the well-kept inner-city apartment complex that served as Goober Central; for some reason she was summoned here and not her boyfriend’s dad’s place. Why, she had no idea, but she entertained it for the time being, since it was Bepo who called. She couldn’t say no to Bepo, not really. It was kind of like saying no to Chopper—it just wasn’t done.

Heading into the building and up the stairs, she went to the second-from-topmost floor and over to the door at the end of the corridor, it opening before she even had a chance to knock.

“Good, you came,” Penguin said. He looked out past Nami, attempting to see if she’d been followed. “No one else?”

“You said it was ‘of the utmost importance’ and that Law was ‘in danger’,” she deadpanned. “What sort of nonsense do you have him roped into this time?” Nami entered the apartment to find her boyfriend laying face-down on the living room floor, Bepo and Shachi attempting to coax him out of some sort of rut.

It was a damn good thing the sex was so good or this would be ridiculous.

“Alright, what’s going on that I have to fix?” she asked as she sat down on the couch. Law remained still, though she could feel him cringe at her voice. “I take it has to do with Cora-san, since we’re here and not at his place?”

“More than just Cora-san,” Shachi said gravely. Nami rolled her eyes.

“Well, since it doesn’t involve Bell-mère dropping out of the Revue, I don’t know what it could possibly be about.” She watched as Law shifted his head so that he was looking at her shoes.

“People from Impel came to warn the Revue’s organizers about a potential breech in contract with him switching to being a judge,” he grumbled.

“…and this has you laying on Penguin and Shachi’s un-vaccuumed carpet because…?”

“I volunteered.”

She blinked at that. “You volunteer every year…”

“No: I volunteered without thinking about the consequences.”

Oh.

“He might’ve well as called himself a sacrificial goat the way Cora-san told it over the phone,” Penguin said blithely. “Man’s fucked.”

“…and what does that have to do with me?” Nami asked. She knew, of course, but wanted to hear it from her boyfriend’s mouth.

“I need your help, Nami-ya,” he groaned. He shifted his head so that he could look up at her, all sad and pathetic and absolutely delightful. “I need help.”

She grinned at that and pulled her phone from her purse. “You’re going to need a lot more help than just me.”

“So… you’re not angry…?” Bepo wondered. Nami smirked as she fired off a couple texts.

-----

Shopping trip?

I got a project. You’re gonna love it.

-----

“Angry? I might just get some entertainment value out of this whole debacle yet.” Her phone chirped and Nami shifted her weight from one hip to the other as she snapped a photo of her puddle-boyfriend and sent it off. Less than ten seconds and she got a reply.

-----

Ooooh… finally accepting pointers?

-----

Not the kind you’re thinking. Still have those trial palettes from when you got the idiot those beauty boxes for the hair dye?

-----

Yes but…

…

…pick me up in hald an hour

*half

ykwim

-----

“We’re in luck,” Nami chuckled. “We’re going to be accompanied by an expert.”

Law wasn’t sure whether that made him feel better or worse.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Shopping with Nami and Perona had been an interesting experience, to say the least. Law had no idea who the cavalry was until they rolled up to the weird mansion that was in a densely wooded plot in the middle of what was otherwise zoned for commercial property. Haunted land bought cheap enough to afford the zoning board’s subsequent bribe, so the story went, and it honestly made sense given who lived there. When the distinctively large pink ringlets came bouncing out of the house and down the circular drive, it became apparent that he was going to be in for a time.

“It’s a good thing you got a hold of me,” Perona said importantly as she got into the back seat of Law’s car. “It’s bad enough your dad tapped the rest of Zozo’s weirdo friends to round out his revue, but this? This is a project I’m definitely interested in making happen.”

“Just tell me where we’re going,” Law grumbled.

“That depends on what your persona is going to be,” Nami said. Her boyfriend stared at her, seemingly confused. “What? You mean you don’t have a persona picked out?”

“I was thinking we could just get stuff for me to imitate Cora-san’s act…?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…” Nami tutted. “Rosi Thoughts might become a legacy character, but only after the original retires, not gets temporarily sidelined as one of the judges. We need a brand-new queen for this scene.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Perona smirked. She looked smug as a fed cat in the rearview mirror. “We have to come up with something with glamour and pizzazz if you’re going to even have a shot.”

“I’m not glamour or pizzazz—I’m a disturbingly young surgeon who still lives with his foster father and has a bunch of weird friends who are way too cheerful and energetic and loud to be worth it if it weren’t for the crucial facts that A) they actually put up with me, and B) that’s how I met Nami.”

“How about we go with that?” Perona offered, refusing to unpack all that. “The surgeon thing.”

“Marco-ya is also a doctor and his thing is a pineapple-phoenix.”

“…and it’s not like we have a lot of time to develop a distinct act for you,” Nami reasoned. “Maybe if we had two months, but not under two weeks.”

“I draw the line at Halloween-store ‘sexy’ outfits,” he warned. “I don’t care what it costs me; I will leave you both behind.”

“Who do you think we are? Amateurs?” Perona gasped in false indignation. She leaned back into her seat and buckled up. “Just drive, loser. I’ll tell you when we need to make a turn.”

So he did, and Law was taken to all manner of stores in the hunt for supplies. Between his girlfriend and… their… mutual friend’s… sister (…? Their femme style consultant…? Nami’s torture expert…?) he had all sorts of things held to his face and body and even had to try on no less than ten pairs of hellish shoes. By the time they walked into the final store of the afternoon—the scrubs store—he was desperately thankful for the normalcy involved.

“Now this is more something I’m familiar with,” he breathed in relief. He took solace in the rows upon rows of women’s scrub tops that were no different in make and design than the men’s on the other side of the aisle. The only real differences were the patterns and how they were sized. “They probably shouldn’t be the same as what I wear at work, so it—”

“They need to be cute,” Perona insisted as she idly sorted through some patterned tops. “We’re already trying to negate the not-cute things about you, so we’re gonna need to try hard.”

He glared at her, suspicious. “What about me isn’t cute?”

“Those tattoos, that scowl, the fact you look like a scarecrow…”

“Izou-ya has a tattoo sleeve and Cora-san is even scarecrowier than me.”

“…and you’re still not cute!” Perona huffed. She flitted her way over towards some bat-print scrubs while leaving Law to sulk. Nami giggled quietly at the entire thing.

“What…?” he grumbled. “I bet you’re enjoying this.”

“I am, but not in the way you think.”

“I thought you enjoyed torturing me, Nami-ya.”

“What we do in the bedroom has nothing to do with it,” she smirked. His face went red at that—busted. “It’s just nice having a day like this, where I get to go around and dress you up.”

“…but Ghost-ya…”

“You know it has nothing to do with Perona, even if she is giving us a neat perspective.” He rolled his eyes and she playfully nudged him in the side. “What? She can sew and Usopp is too busy with helping both Sanji and Robin…”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted quietly. “The guys just… they aren’t really equipped for this. Working the show, yeah, but…” He rubbed a piece of fabric between his fingers as his eyes lost focus. “Not just any girlfriend would call in the cavalry when she learns her boyfriend is taking his father’s place in a drag show.”

“When you put it like that, you’re absolutely correct,” she said. Nami popped up on her toes and kissed the corner of Law’s mouth. “Just be glad I’m not charging you for my time.”

“I know my payment is going to be how I least expect it,” he said. “You just have that way about you.”

“…and you know it,” she grinned. It made him feel a little better, admittedly, and he bent down to press a proper kiss to her lips. He was nearly there when they heard Perona clear her throat; she was holding up a tight-cut scrub top that was hot pink and decorated in black hearts.

Not just no, but fuck no.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was two days before showtime and everything was in a panic. Law was already off work, meaning he had been chasing Cora-san around the house all morning and afternoon as the taller man tried to wander around on his crutches doing things for the Revue. He eventually needed to threaten his foster father with packing everything up to go to Izou’s tiny apartment in Logue Town-proper. Since they all had sworn that they’d never do that again as long as Cora-san still had his house, the man sulked on the couch with his leg propped up all until Marco left carrying the last tote of decorations. Law helped his coworker out to the car and swore to be at the venue the following day to help unpack, retreating back into the house once the vehicle revved up. He couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as he saw Cora-san pouting right where he left him.

“Your face will stick like that if it’s not careful,” he teased as he closed the blinds.

“It won’t.”

“You’re not going to listen to a medical professional?”

“Sometimes they’re wrong.” Law looked at his foster father and sighed, already regretting what he was about to offer.

“I’ll get together some snacks and maybe you can watch me figure out my makeup?”

“I’ll do it, but I’m still angry with you,” Cora-san grumbled. Well, it was progress. Law helped him to his feet and went to the kitchen while his dad attempted to navigate the stairs with crutches. By the time he brought the tray of tea and sandwiches up to his room, it looked like Cora-san was already nursing two extra bumps to his head and elbows. “The turn in the hallway moved.”

“Mmhmm… now you sound like Roronoa-ya,” Law hummed. He balanced the tray on a stack of boxes and handed Cora-san his tea before filling his own Sora, Warrior of the Sea mug. “So what do you think of the palettes Ghost-ya and Nami-ya got?”

“I think I like this one best,” Cora-san said, handing his son one of the makeup palettes that was sitting on the bed. “Brings out your eyes, I think.”

“Thanks.” Law sat down at the vanity mirror and turned on the lights, preparing to put on more cosmetics than he’d ever had on in his life.

“Can I ask why your cute girlfriend isn’t helping you with this?”

“She’s helping Ghost-ya with my outfit—wants the final product to be a surprise,” he admitted. Law dug through the debris that was littering the vanity and found his old foundation, shaking the bottle well before opening it back up. “Shachi showed her pics of me as a teenager already—she knows I’m not helpless.”

“You were really cute then,” Cora-san recalled. “Do you remember why you had me teach you?”

“…to hide my Amber Lead spots.”

“No… it was because you wanted to have the coolest Halloween costume in your new school. Hiding the spots was only a bonus.” He watched the younger man put on concealer and foundation, layering slightly thicker than he normally would. Blush came next and Law glared at his reflection.

“I feel ridiculous,” he seethed.

“For lack of a more… dignified term, we’re essentially a modern variation on clowns,” Cora-san offered. “Feeling ridiculous is baked in—it’s just all about how comfortable you feel while ridiculous is the thing.”

“…but I have never worn makeup like this.”

“No, you haven’t.” The older man chuckled quietly as he watched Law put on eyeshadow up to his eyebrow, scowling at his own efforts. “You know… I’m very proud of you for doing this. I know it’s well out of your comfort zone.”

“You’ve done similar for me, and would do it again.”

“That’s… that’s not the point.” He placed a hand on Law’s shoulder, the younger man stopping to turn and look at him directly. “You barely wanted anything to do with this when we first moved here.”

“I was a young teenager who had just gone through hell; I didn’t want anything to do with anyone.”

“…and now you’re here, doing this, while your cute young girlfriend helps get your costume together. I never thought we’d get anywhere near this.”

“Don’t get too sappy on me or my makeup will run and then I’ll have to start from scratch,” Law warned. There was no venom in his voice, simply experience. “Now, what do you think I should do with my eyelashes? You aren’t going to get out of this easy, Rosi.”

…and oh, ideas were had.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was finally Revue Day.

Despite the fact the show was going to be at seven in the evening, Law pulled up to the back door of the venue just before eleven in the morning, car full of the last bits of costuming, decorations, prepwork, and Cora-san. Penguin and Shachi were already there, very clearly faking a smoke break as they leaned up against the wall of the building.

“Who all is here?” Law asked, rolling down his window. Penguin shrugged.

“Some of Pops’s gang was already here with Marco when we showed up,” he said. “If Izou and Kiku are here they just came in through the front door, Straw Hat’s crew beat us all here…”

“…even the kid; he’s doing homework at the bar,” Shachi interrupted. “Marco’s about ready to kidnap and adopt him.”

“A common sentiment,” Law nodded.

“…yeah, and, at least most of the contestants are here,” Penguin finished. He took his unlit cigarette and handed it to Shachi, who put them back in the pack and pocketed them. “I think all we’re really missing is the two of you, the Drag Sibs, two other contestants, and Bepo, but the buses are running late due to that festival in Shells District.”

“That’s probably what’s keeping Kiku,” Cora-san said, leaning towards Law’s window. “Izou got his motorcycle fixed, so if anything’s keeping him it’s traffic.”

“Try telling that to Pops’s gang,” Shachi droned, rolling his eyes.

“Alright,” Law put the Polar Tang in park and killed the engine, “I’m gonna get Cora-san in while you two start unloading. It’s all the usual stuff from the house, so nothing too weird.”

“Weird today is a bare-faced businessman in a cheap suit,” Penguin quipped. Law pretended to not hear that and popped the trunk before getting out of the car and grabbing Cora-san’s crutches so the older man could attempt to support himself while he got the costuming supplies.

“Boys, Law is bullying me,” Cora-san whined.

“You don’t even know the definition of bullying, you wet cat of a man,” Law sniped. There was no venom in his voice, however, as it technically fell under the auspices of pre-show banter.He heard twin engines and sure enough: Bepo and his moped and Izou and his pristine vintage Shandoran motorcycle came into the alleyway. “About damn time.”

“Sorry I’m late!” Bepo cried. He and Izou parked their rides in the same space, looking nearly comical next to one another. “Had to pick up batteries on the way and the line took forever.”

“You know we have batteries here,” Law replied. “Marco-ya alone should probably switch to a twelve-volt.”

“Yeah, I know, but I still feel weird taking them,” the bear frowned. He adjusted his backpack full of photography equipment before offering a paw to Cora-san as the man wobbled dangerously on the edge of a pothole more a crater of rubble than anything. “How are you feeling today, Cora-san? Have you been keeping your leg elevated at home?”

“As much as I can,” he replied, with Bepo seeing right through the lie. Law stood next to the car as Penguin and Shachi quickly ran some stuff in, with the pair coming out so they could all grab the last of the stuff together.

“If it’s any consolation, Sanji’s set himself up in the kitchen and has been cooking and baking since five so we can all stay fed with his cooking specifically while he’s competing,” Shachi offered. Law raised his eyebrow at that.

“How’d he get in at five?”

“That’s for Straw Hat to explain, not us,” Penguin scoffed. He stuck his foot into the ajar door and swung it open, careful to not disturb the piece of concrete that was serving as a stopper. “It’s best not to think about it, right?”

“Yeah, true.”

Once Law got into the building he knew it was going to be a much more exhausting time than the year prior. He could smell Sanji’s cooking in the air, which was all sorts of heavenly that they were going to need to filter out before the doors opened at six. Marco and Izou’s extended friend circle all seemed boisterous as ever, the Straw Hats and their crew mixing together well. Even the ones who Law had only seen in passing due to the auditions and last-minute materials pickup were having a great time as they helped set up, with both Luffy and Ace latching themselves onto the two non-Kiku Royalty contestants.

“Oh, it’s Torao!” Luffy gasped as he saw him put down a box. He bounded over, a young rose-haired man in-tow. “Torao, this is Koby!”

“I know… he’s been at my house.” He then turned to the newcomer, who seemed quite nervous. “He’s not giving you a hard time, is he?”

“Luffy-san’s really nice… I don’t mind…”

“Yeah! Koby and Yama-bro are our friends now!” Luffy gestured back to Ace and the other non-Kiku Royalty contestant, both of whom were laughing at something Thatch said. “They’re both gonna come over to the house next weekend! Won’t that be fun?”

“It will be if you don’t scare them off first.” Law looked and saw Nami frowning as she went up to them. Luffy took that as his cue to bring Koby over to the snack table, where Sanji was setting up a new round of food. “I swear, if he keeps this up, he’s going to adopt the poor guy into the group against his will.”

“Strawhat-ya wouldn’t do that,” Law chuckled. He leaned down and pecked a kiss to Nami’s lips in greeting. “Please tell me you remembered my costume.”

“I didn’t, mostly because Perona did,” she replied. He raised an eyebrow. “She was the one who decided to do some down-to-the-wire adjustments. All I did was approve them.”

“Then let me drop off Cora-san’s stuff in his dressing room and we’ll do the grand reveal,” he said. She agreed and helped take everything labeled “Rosi Thoughts” to the closet-sized space that its occupant had not yet gotten to, getting distracted by the spread to rival any professional craft services team.

“Alright,” Nami said as they stopped outside the door with Law’s name taped to it (permanent marker on copy paper; very professional), “close your eyes.”

“Nami…”

“Humor us, alright?”

“Fine…” he groaned. He closed his eyes and held out his hands, which she took in both of hers. “Better?”

“Much.” She opened the door and led him in, Perona’s giggles of glee preceding her. “Okay, you ready?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not much, no,” Perona replied. “Go ahead. Open.”

Law opened his eyes and almost gasped when he saw what was sitting on the costuming dummy. It was a sparkling disaster, with the bright yellow scrub set having been taken in to better contour to his body and blue rhinestones outlining where his chest tattoo sat. There were no sleeves and barely anything left of the pant legs, a bright blue feather boa stethoscope, and his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the heeled shoes on the vanity counter, which were so thoroughly covered in their own rhinestones that he couldn’t even tell they had been brown.

“Well, yeah,” Perona said. She turned the dummy around to show that there were more rhinestones to mimic his back tattoo, as well as have two hearts styled like the ones on his shoulders sitting on the ass. “I think it’s going to be stunning. You couldn’t be cuter.”

“…but you hate yellow.”

“I hate what yellow does to my complexion,” she scoffed, swatting the words away with a limp wrist. “It looks fine on you.”

“You two are both enjoying this way too much,” he groaned. A glance over at Nami’s beaming expression confirmed his suspicions—he was going to pay for this, and it wasn’t just going to be letting his girlfriend sit on his face. “Where’s my makeup bag?”

“Oh, shit, I left it at Cora-san’s dressing room…”

“…then I’ll get it,” he insisted, glad for an excuse to escape. Law did not move quickly as he walked down the narrow corridor towards Cora-san’s room, wondering how the community theater company’s kitchily-large costumes ever tolerated such a narrow walkway.

He only had the door open for two seconds before he saw that the tiny room was decidedly occupado with Cora-san and Bell-mère, the latter with her shirt off in the process of stripping them both for an activity they really should have locked the door for; crutches had been hastily abandoned and the noises coming out of the injured man were fucking indecent.

Law shut the door as quickly and quietly as he could, face beet red, and decided to see what sort of snacks Sanji had put out. The makeup bag could wait.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Alright, everyone!” Penguin called out as he meandered down the corridor. “Emcees are on in five! Glam it up! Last call!” He stopped in front of Law’s room and knocked softly. “Captain? You alright in there?”

“I am going to die,” Law announced from behind the wooden barrier.

“No he’s not!” Perona’s voice insisted. She popped her head out and scowled at Penguin. “He’s just being difficult.”

“Who’s being difficult?” Shachi asked as he appeared around the corner. Perona opened the door and stepped out in order to present her project.

If it wasn’t for the fact they knew it was Law who was getting roped into things, they almost would not have recognized him. Heels and fishnets, well-hidden padding in the chest and rear, a short-cut wig with face-framing bangs, and expert makeup that covered all his tattoos except his shoulders and contoured his face into something leagues more feminine… he was honestly drop-dead gorgeous.

“I thought you were going with more… erm… traditional makeup for the occasion,” Shachi noted. Law simply seethed.

“That apparently was not part of the plan,” he hissed. Ah, shit, his goatee and sideburns were gone. Nami and Perona, however, were ignoring the exchange.

“I think he’s ready,” Nami said, nodding sagely.

“Yes,” Perona agreed. “She is ready to take her place as the Queen of Queens.”

“You know that’s Strawhat-ya’s auncle,” Law replied. He wobbled slightly as he realized that Bepo had appeared behind Penguin and Shachi, snapping a pic with his DSLR before he even had a chance to react. “I said: minimal pictures!”

“You look great, Captain!” the bear beamed. “You better get to your station! The show’s about to start!”

“Good luck,” Nami smiled sweetly, kissing Law on his left shoulder, right over the exposed tattoo she knew would not smudge. “I’ll be helping Zoro contain Luffy. You know who my votes are behind.”

“Oh, is it me, dearest Nami-swan~?!” Both Nami and Law glanced over to see Sanji nearly pirouette out of his dressing room as he saw them. ‘Never took ballet’ his ass—the surgeon could almost bet his tucked balls on Sanji having had a secret life where he had done all the stereotypical rich kid bullshit like ballet and fencing and had been good at them.

“My cheers belong to my beau,” she teased. He picked up her hand and delicately kissed the back of it, which Law found fairly ridiculous in his garish makeup and skirted chef’s outfit.

“Then I shall promise a dessert for tomorrow evening guaranteed to be a petite mort?”

“Stop trying to seduce my girlfriend, Kitchin Bitchen,” Law growled. Sanji glared at him, which he returned, only for Nami to groan and punch them both in an arm.

“Ladies, you’re both pretty,” she insisted. “Now get going!” She smacked them both on the ass and left, Law taking it more as the sort of smack a sports coach would give, while Sanji threatened to bleed out of his nose.

“I am not performing emergency medical procedures on perverts tonight, so be careful,” Law warned as they joined the other contestants in the staging area just out of view of the audience. He blanched when he realized that a very crucial part of the whole show was missing. “Where’s Cora-san?”

“Usopp took him around the back to get to the judges’ booth,” Bell-mère said. Fuck, she looked like some washed-up trucker whose long-hauler broke down on the outskirts of Greater Logue Town and hoofed it the entire way there instead. “He’ll be seen, don’t worry.”

“Think about it,” Izou said, doing one final check of his hair before taking a microphone from Thatch. “Are we going to let him out of our sight with crutches if there’s a chance he can ruin the coat that took me murdering how many feather boas because he can’t be trusted with needles?”

Unable to refute that logic, Law shrugged and watched as Izou and Marco looked at one another, took a deep breath, and slap-slap-slap-slap-slapped their hands together in a quick secret handshake of brotherhood (or in this case, sisterhood) before they stepped out onto the main of the stage, the spotlights quickly finding them.

“Hello and welcome to the Annual Logue Town Royal Revue! Can I get a ‘yoi’?”

“YOI!” the crowd shouted back.

“Excellent! You all know me, yoi. I’m Shenix Fyre, and this is my sister-in-heels Ganmodokidoki. We’re your mistresses of ceremony for the night, where we’ve got a stunning display for everyone!”

“That’s right!” Izou grinned. “Our most steady crowd will know most years it’s just us and our sister Rosi Thoughts on the stage, cracking jokes and being our silly selves, but tonight we’ve got a special treat for you all!”

“That’s double-right!” Marco shifted so that his feathered wings shimmered in the lights, showing off the glitter and beadwork better than just the internal string lights could afford. “We have a brand-new, high-stakes format with a cast full of fresh meat for us to devour tonight!” The crowd cheered. “Now, is everyone ready for a transcendent time?!”

The crowd clapped and cheered; it was always a corny line, but Law found it somehow worse this year. He had to hand it to them—they really knew how to fire up and engage the crowd.

“Then let’s get started,” Izou said, “and begin introducing the fine and fabulous who are going to make up the teams! Each team gets a member of Enby Royalty, a King, and a Queen, who all have to cooperate in order to complete our grueling tasks!”

“First up in Royalty, we have Rose Marina, yoi!”

Shakily, Koby hobbled out onto the stage, almost tripping on himself; Killer scoffed at the sight.

“Poor lad’s about to piss himself,” he grunted.

“Well, yeah,” Bell-mère replied. “I don’t think he’s been even exposed to this before and now he’s in it.”

“Meeker than a wee lamb, that one.”

“Let’s give it up for Snowy Mum!”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Robin smirked, edging herself over towards the next spot. “Don’t let Luffy hear you say that about his new friend.”

“Tch…” Killer shrugged and tried to drop it.

“…and give a hand to our final member of Royalty, Kozuki Oden!”

“Is it usually this tedious?” Sanji asked. He was bouncing his leg and fidgeting. “I don’t think I’ve ever needed a smoke break more.”

“Give it a moment and you can run out the back for a hit,” Law deadpanned.

“Now to start off the Kings, yoi! Here we have Devil Ray!”

“Life really turned to shit when you stopped being able to smoke inside.”

“Bell-mère-ya, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Eh; what are you gonna do about it, kid?”

“Time to meet Smartea Pants!”

“Flex my medical degree at you?”

“You’re a cardiothoratic surgeon on the best of days—you couldn’t tell me shit about anything else.”

“…and here he is, the Beast of the East!”

“See you out there, kids,” Bell-mère chuckled before she walked out under the lights of the stage.

“God, I hate this already,” Law groaned.

“There is no God here,” Killer stated. Law opened his mouth to explain it was just an expression and there was no reason to be a dick about it when Marco’s voice cut him off.

“Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, yoi! Here are this years Queens!” He paused to let the crowd applaud—they knew what they were here to see. “First up is Killer Queen!” Killer sauntered onto the stage and ate up the applause and cheers, some of the loudest coming from the man’s personal cheering section.

“If there is a God,” Law sighed, “then he’s making sure those two fuck.” He pointed out the punk with cherry-red hair and a prosthetic arm.

“Mmm… who knows,” Sanji shrugged. “I know I don’t want to.”

“Here’s a special gal who will cure what ails you, Dr. Hart-Steeler!”

“You’re up.” Law felt Sanji’s hands on his back and the younger man push him our towards the stage. The whole crowd clapped as he found himself under hot lights. He smiled awkwardly and quickly searched the crowd, finding not only where the Impel representatives were, but also where Nami-ya was with the rest of the non-participating Straw Hats. Law was so concentrated on his girlfriend, however, that he let the heel of his shoe slip and he rolled his ankle, landing hard on the worn lacquered wood of the stage floor to a round of gasps and one fairly annoying “faffaffaffa”.

Oh, they were off to a great start.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was two days since the Revue and Law was laying on a couch in Luffy’s sus-as-fuck party house at 1000 Sunny Rd, his feet propped up on the far armrest and his head in Nami’s lap as she idly carded through his hair. Her weather data-crunching laptop was balanced on the other armrest as she used it one-handed, not wanting to stop touching her boyfriend’s fluffy hair.

“How are your feet feeling?” she asked. He grunted in response, leaning into her touch.

“Better,” he admitted. “Ankles not nearly as sore either.” His eyes were closed as he simply enjoyed her touch and company. “I do still think I bruised my hipbone.”

“Did you now?” she wondered idly. “I guess this means that it might need some attention later…?”

“Possibly,” he smirked. “You’ll have to check for signs of contusions.”

“Hey, time to play doctor later,” Zoro warned as he walked into the room. He had his reading glasses on as he squinted at a newspaper—the Foosha Free Press—sourly. “It looks like they even did an article about you all the way out here in the fucking sticks.”

“They did not need to do an article about any of us out this way,” Law said, hoping the glare he was giving would help Zoro take a fucking hint.

It didn’t.

“I guess the editor is an old friend of your dad’s or something,” Zoro replied nonchalantly.

“Between your adoptive pain in the ass and mine, who don’t they know?”

“Boys, you’re both stupid, now what does it say?” Nami frowned. Zoro adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat before peering down at the paper, attempting to find where he’d left off. When it took him too long to find his spot, Nami tore the paper from his hands. “Silly me thinking you could read.”

“Witch! Can to!”

“Mmm… sure.” Nami opened up the paper and found the article Zoro had been hunting for almost immediately. “Huh. ‘The Logue Town Royal Revue, always a show that surprises and entertains, mixed things up to the extreme with their all-new drag show in their attempt to woo support from Impel Drag Race. With the goal of raising money for charity, it felt as though this year one got a lot more for their ticket price. Was it a change in budget? The novelty of new contestants? No one can say for certain.’ At least it seems like they really liked you.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Law whined. Nami grinned wickedly at that, knowing precisely what to do.

“‘The Revue,’” she continued reading, “‘was emceed by the two show founders, with their longtime third helping them with the judging portion. Anyone who knew of Shenix Fyre, Ganmodokidoki, and Rosi Thoughts’s prior acts came in with expectations that were delivered on. They were able to handle a rowdier-than-usual crowd that was there to support the fresh performers.’”

“Oh, get to the good shit already,” Zoro whined. Both he and Nami tried to not snicker as they watch Law curl up and try to hide his face in his girlfriend’s lap—no sale.

“Let’s see… blah, blah, ‘Royalty was a unique model the contestants brought to life’, blah, blah, blah… oh, good, nothing about Bell-mère. I was worried about that. It’s all about the one we didn’t know. Devil Ray…” Her eyebrows raised in amusement as she continued. “‘…but the true crowd pleasers were the Queens, especially Dr. Hart-Steeler, whose klutzy act reminiscent of her mother Rosi Thoughts endeared her to myself and the entire crowd.’ Law! They loved you!”

“…no…” he whimpered.

“Who knew your old man surgeon was sexy enough for that,” Zoro laughed. Nami silently dared him to try harder. “At least you know you can go back if you want to do it again.”

“Maybe if Cora-san had gotten into stunt kites… or maybe historical reenactments…”

“See?” Zoro pointed at Law haughtily. “Old man. He’s so old he doesn’t even have an ass.”

“Be nice; his ass suits my needs.”

“Nami, his ass needs implants it’s so flat.”

“Can you please not talk about my ass?”

“Mmm… too bad,” Nami hummed. She skritched his scalp with her nails and smiled at the photo included with the article: Dr. Hart-Steeler making an unintended dive towards Inazuma’s chest, limbs flailing and expression one of pure panic.

She was going to take what she could get.

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