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Made with love from our hearts to you~
So chibi_trillian and I decided to do a collaboration which would kill the whole world ded with *insert spoiler here*. And this resulted.

Warning: Please do not read before/after breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper, and definitely not while drinking anything in front of the computer it has a tendency to go up noses/sprayed over the keyboard. You have been thoroughly warned. (Also, try not to listen to 'Sanji the Great Blue ~Dessert wa Kimi~' while reading.)

Title: Conspicuous Consumption
Rating: NC-DEAD for lots of wankery and stuff you should not fuck with. In other words, mind-raping, non-work-safe crack. Srsly.
Pairing: Nakamaship Sanji x everyone (except Chopper, whom we graciously decided to spare. ) Mix 2 parts het and 3 parts yaoi.
Word Count: 570 + 1294 + 800 + 1535 + 691 = 4890
Authors: chibi_trillian and ptps. Guess who wrote which bit. XD
Notes: To read the original fiction that spurred this, [press 1]. To read the conversation thread this originated in with our bonus commentary, [press 2].



Part 1: Fold


"Nami-swaaaaaaaan, this berry parfait is made with all the love in my body, heart, and soul! If you would do me the honor of gracing it with the touch of your beauteous lips and discerning tongue, I would expire in a paroxysm of joy!"

Nami blinked at the layered dessert being held in front of her. Sanji was going a bit more overboard than usual today. Normally, he didn't threaten to die if she ate his cooking. She looked at the high, fluted dish, at Sanji's unusually flushed face, and then back at the parfait. Condensation trickled slowly down the glass, tiny beads sheening it, like the sweat on Sanji's face and running down his neck to vanish under his loosened collar...

Hot with high humidity. Storms later on this afternoon, then. She might as well eat now, because she wouldn't have time to later. She took the dessert from the tray, ignoring Sanji's soft sigh of happiness when her fingers curled around the long, thin parfait glass holding it and slid a little on the slick surface before she found her grip.

She took a ladylike bite, fully expecting it to be delicious. And it was. Light and sweet, but not overpoweringly so--it had a delicate edge of tartness to it, and a faint salty undertaste that brought all the other flavors out exquisitely. Sanji had changed the recipe, added something to it. It was a change for the better.

"It's very good, Sanji-kun. Thank you." Sanji grinned, wide and silly, thin ribbon of red still running across his high cheekbones, and Nami got a weird little feeling in the pit of her stomach, the same place that told her when someone was hiding money or vital information from her.

But it was only Sanji-kun. He couldn't hide something from her if his life depended on it. And when he watched her intently while she ate, well, Sanji was always antsy about new recipes.

Nami finished the parfait, thanked the joyfully squealing chef again, and went back to her book.
x x x x x x


Sanji slumped against the galley door and moaned, one hand balancing Nami-san's tray with thoughtless ease, the other kneading the bulge in his pants. His Nami-san, his beautiful, wonderful Nami-san, had eaten his special dessert. And she had liked it.

That sweet parfait had been made with everything Sanji had, even his essence, and she had taken it into her lovely mouth and swallowed it happily down. It was like an indirect blowjob, and watching it happen had left him so stiff and aching that he'd wobbled most of the way back to the galley. He could still feel cool cream on his hot flesh, feel the faint stickiness he hadn't managed to wipe all the way off, feel his body asking for it to happen again...

Maybe dinnertime. Maybe for the boys' snacks, watching Luffy gobble down his chef's love or seeing Usopp's full lips encompass something that Sanji had poured his passion into. Because he loved them all, and loved cooking for them all. Even Zoro. The thought of watching the asshole eat Sanji's special food all unknowing left him with a warm, powerful feeling in his heart.

He had been right to share this, his favorite and most personal spice. He'd kept it to himself for far too long.

Part 2: Whip


"Here." Sanji sat down a single white plate in front of the sharpshooter, bodily dumped himself opposite him with closed eyes and fingers flicking a cigarette to life. "Eat that."

A single eclair sat temptingly on the plate; it was chocolate, miniature beads of condensation dotting the dark glazing coating the top half of the dessert, firmly whipped vanilla cream pressing out slightly from between both spongy, lightly toasted loaves. Bread-beige with a hint of tan browning, milk-white swirls and faint peach shadows and deep, rich burnet, begging him for both visual and oral consumption. Usopp swallowed, but furrowed his eyebrows, gaze unblinking. "Uh, thank you, but w-why the sudden - "

"What, don't want it?"

The little cake was suddenly whisked up off the table and out of sight. Usopp grappled after it like someone had stolen his wife, latched onto the blond's arm with something short of desperacy. "N-n-no! I meant - You don't - I - oh, just - fine. Put it back down?"

The cook smirked, laid the plate back down like he would a princess to sleep. The china thunked against the tabletop with a cheerful chink, and Usopp spent a few seconds more gazing at the small confectionery, taking in its detail with admiring eyes. It was rare that the cook whipped up anything for the men on the ship - it was always ladies first, and if the ladies didn't like it then "it was for them". When these situations happened, the sniper would make loud, oblivious remarks about the thirty Dobermans he used to own and the mansion he lived in, and how the dogs would feed off ornately decorated gold dishes placed around the hall the leftovers of his extravagant dinners.

These were remarks that the cook often pretended not to hear, and the sniper allowed himself a small smirk of victory that maybe his cryptic messages had finally gotten through to the arrogant chef. Imaginative mind that he had, he was certain that there might have been ill-intent hidden behind the sudden gesture, but not even Sanji was vicious enough to think of slipping laxative through his food just to shut him up - so Usopp shrugged, delicately picked the cake off its pedestal, and sank into his first bite of heaven.
x x x x x x


The blond watched from under hooded eyelids as olive fingers wrapped about the length of the dessert - roughly five and a half inches, he'd taken measuring into account during its creation - fingers closing light but firm around it, merging some of the condensed droplets together as they brushed over the dark glazing, sending small cold rivulets sliding down the hardened icing. The cream filling pushed out a little more as Usopp got a good grip, brought it slowly, tantalizingly towards full, expectant lips.

There were perhaps two or three seconds of contemplative silence, as the sniper studied the eclair from close up, eyes traveling appreciatively over the light crust, and Sanji's mind blanked as the sniper parted his lips, closed his mouth over the very tip of the dessert. Taking a tiny, adventurous taste, as though if he ate too much on the first bite the entire thing would vanish before he had time to savor it properly. Lips pressing down slightly around water and chocolate and bread and filling as he bit off a small piece whilst holding the eclair inside his mouth - and the air was heating up again, sweat beading under the cook's loosened collar as he watched Usopp swallow the first bite, pull away so there were smudges of cream about his mouth; web-thin strand of saliva from the confectionery to his lips breaking as a pink tongue flashed out to lick away the mess.

His hands, safely fisted atop his knees below the table, unclenched twice in anticipation, and Sanji could feel the heat crawling up from his belly to his neck like a spreading ring of hot frost, swallowing down a small groan when Usopp closed his eyes temporarily: head rolling back, making low noises of utter delight at the mind-melting experience, mouth working as he chewed quietly. Then doing the procedure all over again - taking it between his lips, almost sucking around it; clamping lips around melting darkness and foamy pearl - unconsciously Sanji found his hand wandering to the warm joint between his own legs, fingers brushing over the growing bulge there as he continued to stare fixated at the crewmate who was currently licking off a glob of thick rich white off slender, clever digits and oh god fuck and that definitely was his stomach knotting itself into a Timber Hitch right there and then while he nearly ripped a hole in his trousers from gripping too hard, teeth locked tight, breath quickening, eyes shuttered slightly, face heated and his feet pushing against the floor uselessly while he hunched over in his seat and tried not to appear too conspicuous.

The sniper was giving him an odd look, eclair half inside that warm mouth and fuck fuck fuck but he needed to get to the washroom now and fast.

"Glad you're enjoying it," Sanji gritted out, smiling tightly, and then hobbled for the galley door and out.
x x x x x x


He lost his pants quickly, slamming the bathroom door behind him the moment he got inside; fingers tearing at the zipper while he pressed himself hard against the wood behind him. Sanji freed his erection quickly, stroking hard and fast with fumbling, overly-excited fingers, some part of him mourning the fact that he wouldn't be able to collect his special ingredient now and get it back into the galley for the next unsuspecting victim without getting caught one way or another. He could always rub a new one out, he supposed, teeth worrying his lower lip as he allowed his mind to drift and his hurried touches sped up.

It was almost as he'd imagined it, private sinful fantasy brought nearly to life when Usopp had sucked the head of the dessert into his mouth - much like Nami cleaning off her little spoon with the lick of a cat's sly tongue - little unconscious actions they made that could be so damn arousing when paralleled inappropriately with the dirty thoughts swirling inside in his head, that made him writhe in helpless need.

Usopp didn't need to know how warm the bread had been around his cock, heat doused by fridge-cold cream and cooled, melted chocolate; that cum and vanilla looked quite indistinguishable when properly whipped together. In his mind, between panting gasps of gulping air and dripping sweat and fingers moving faster harder pulling twisting tugging he kept seeing the sniper's open mouth, warm, inviting, imagined the thick pressure and moistness and warmth around his length while Usopp's tongue would swipe up cream and chocolate and cum and spread the mix back down all over him again and again; and the back of Sanji's skull hit the door as his hips jerked raggedly up into his pumping hand, white splashes falling like milk and vanilla and cream before his fluttering lashes.

With a loud thump his rear hit the floor, legs shaking too much to support his weight, and the blond gave a small groan and let his arm fall limp. A hazy blue eye studied the drip and slide of bodily fluids across the back of his hand, thinning where they skimmed over his skin to hang heavily collected at the ends. Like bundt cake glazing, he thought, and his lips quirked up into a perverse smile. Now he just needed to choose his next victim.

Part 3: Beat


“Here. Eat this.”

Luffy had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
x x x x x x


Sanji watched the gleeful smile spread over his captain’s face as Luffy examined the fresh bundt cake he’d been presented with. Soft golden-brown cake, lightly flavored with mikan, still slightly warm from the oven with sticky glaze dribbled in thick white dollops and thinner streams all over it.

He’d meant to save Luffy for a special occasion, but he couldn’t wait anymore. The rubber man enjoyed his food so thoroughly, so obviously, and in such volume that Sanji had wanted to have a whole day to just savor the gluttonous masterpiece that was his captain. That wasn’t likely to work, however—if his strong response to Nami-san and Usopp was any indication, he’d probably expire of sexual exhaustion before Luffy’s appetite was sated. But if Sanji had to be restrained to one meal, it was going to be the best, dammit.

So then. Bundt cake. The shape of the cake itself reminded Sanji of a man’s puckered, freshly-fucked entrance, splattered with warm, sticky seed and waiting for more. Damn, but he loved bundt cake.

Luffy swiped a fingerful of glaze from the top of the cake and slipped it between his lips, soft and faintly pink like a child’s and opening wide and eager for Sanji’s offering. He sucked briefly, mouth and throat working in a way that made Sanji thicken and swell and cup himself under the table, needy and wanting again. Luffy’s finger popped out of his mouth with a wet noise, and Sanji wanted to watch him savor that curiously flavored glaze for the rest of his life.

But Luffy wasn’t much for hesitation where as food was concerned. All-important icing tasted and tested, Luffy nodded in approval, picked up the entire plate, and took a huge bite out of the side of the cake, cheeks puffing out like a hamster’s. The moist, squishy cake left smears on his lips, and a bit of glaze trickled down his chin.

Sanji thought he was going to come in his pants.

He remembered slick cake batter squishing between his fingers as he frantically stroked over the bowl, dropping his rich cream into the batter and getting his messy cock under his apron just before Zoro had wandered into the galley to steal some booze. He’d mixed the swirls of white into the batter even as he bellowed at the swordsman. Standing there, dick out, mixing his salty love into a cake while Zoro glared at him and stalked out without suspecting a damn thing had gotten him hard enough to add a little something to the glaze too.

One of these days, he was going to get caught.

Today wasn’t that day, though. Today was Sanji’s goddamn day.

“Oi, asshole, make sure you actually taste it on the way down.”

“’S good! F’r a cake with no m’ddle, ‘nyway.” Luffy swallowed awkwardly, throat stretching in a way that made Sanji press his palm down hard and rub. “How’d you lose the middle to it anyway, Sanji?”

Sanji sighed, arousal slightly abated by sheer stupidity, and opened his mouth to tell his idiot captain that it was supposed to be that way when Luffy took another enormous bite and all he could see was Luffy frantically trying to get as much of what Sanji had given him down his throat as he possibly could, like it was heaven, like it was ambrosia, like it was the only thing in the universe that he wanted. Sanji’s mouth hung open like that, taking great gulping breaths and trying not to be too obvious about it, trying not to be too obvious about the frantic, rhythmic squeezes he was giving his swollen cock through his pants, trying and trying and being so goddamn thankful for the way Luffy devoted all his attention to his food HIS food oh damn—

Warm, sticky heat spread under his palm, and he made a little choking noise that actually got Luffy’s attention.

“Mmmggl?” Luffy managed around the thick, firm mouthful he had, the last bite of a rather sizeable bundt cake.

“Y-your ignorance about the ways of pastries brings me immense sadness, idiot,” Sanji panted out, keeping his head down.

He heard Luffy swallow, wet and quick, so fast that anyone but a rubber man would have been on the floor with cake in their lungs, and managed, “Don’t cry, Sanji! I liked it a lot, even if it was half missing! Is there more?”

Oh hell yes there’s more, captain. I got your meat on a bone right here.

“IDIOT,” Sanji managed, and staggered out the door to go clean up.

Part 4: Frappe


“Zorooo,” hissed a tiny, frantic voice at his crotch level. “Zorooooooo.”

The swordsman shifted awake, peered down grumpily to see Tony Tony Chopper tugging on his haramaki from in-between his legs, which were sprawled open in slack sleepiness. Grunting a vague sound of embarrassment for the innocent animal, Zoro gently shoved the doctor away before sitting up, roughly scratching the back of his hair as he drew his position higher up the mast. “What is it, Chopper?”

The reindeer hesitated for a long while, looking rather challenged in whatever he was about to tell the swordsman. “It’s… I mean… didn’t Usopp… or Luffy mention anything?”

“Usopp and Luffy?”

“Or Nami? I’m not sure about Robin, though, but I really hope Sanji hasn’t gotten to her yet…”

His first incoherent thoughts were that the bastard cook had been fucking all his crewmates behind his back, and Zoro growled darkly, hand reaching over to tighten around Yubashiri’s hilt. “What does the asshole have to do with this?”

Chopper squeaked. “H-h-he… Well, he’s been m-making… his drinks and foods of love a lot more than recently – ”

“That’s normal for him.” His fingers didn’t leave the hilt.

The reindeer shook his head frantically. “For Nami and Robin. But yesterday, and a few days before that, I saw him dragging Usopp and Luffy into the kitchen, and when I peered in through the window they were eating one of those special pastries.”

“Leftovers?” Zoro suggested, lifting an eyebrow.

“No, it’d been specially baked for them. And if you’d listened to Usopp and Luffy talking about it afterwards they both agreed it was the best food they’d ever eaten.”

“…and?” He really didn’t get where the conversation was going, and it was all too tempting to just switch off from the little doctor’s ramblings and just fall asleep right there. It was still afternoon, and the air was light with faint warm sunshine…

“…so if Sanji comes to give you anything,” Chopper was saying, quite urgently now, “be careful, okay?”

“What?” Zoro said. But the reindeer was already gone, scampering across the decks in embarrassed nervousness before he disappeared into the storage room.

Zoro growled again, annoyed, and what had that been about the stupid cook making food for everyone else on board the ship except him, and the day Sanji actually gave him anything special to eat out of his own free will, Luffy would turn vegetarian, and the red-haired witch would donate all her money to charity –

And then the aforementioned stupid cook emerged from the galley. Zoro’s eyes flicked over to the slim figure by the galley door immediately, and he defiantly glared down the chef as their eyes met across the distance. The cook only met his own gaze with nothing short of the usual arrogance and vain distaste… and a little something else that Zoro had no time to decipher, before the lanky idiot was striding down the steps, tray balanced in hand.

Zoro scoffed, arms behind his head as the other drew nearer. The drink was probably for his precious Nami-swan or Robin-chwan, inside the storage room with Chopper where the navigator was working on her maps. It was a lazy sort of day today, and he could use his energy for other things than sparring with the shitty cook. He closed his eyes, waiting for those lengthy footsteps to stride past him.

Instead, the shoes clicked to a stop in front of him and one of them none too gently toed the side of his head. “Oi, Marimo.”

Zoro continued to feign sleep, adding a loud snore for emphasis that he was not to be awakened. He got a hard kick in the thigh instead.

“Ow! Bastard, you wanna start something?” he snapped, already reaching for his swords when the drink was thrust into his face. He stared at it, incomprehensive, instantly wary, Chopper’s last words of advice ringing in his ears.

“Drink it,” Sanji was saying, looking vaguely irritated, nudging the tray towards him. “And hurry up before I change my mind, you ingrate.”

“How do I know this isn’t poisoned?” Zoro shot back, arms folded tightly in not-defense, tilting his chin at the other in defiance.

“The first time I ever bother to give a shit about your moss-head…” Sanji rolled his eyes, all drama and mock-rejection, before he insistently pushed the glass towards the swordsman again. “This week only. I’ve already… treated… Luffy and Usopp… so don’t start thinking that you’re special or anything, shitty swordsman. One time thing.”

Zoro eyed the drink suspiciously – it was cold, droplets beading on the glass, filled to the brim with a lightly-yellowed frothy shake. At least it didn’t have any of those fancy girlish toppings or a paper umbrella sticking out from somewhere.

“Soy milk shake,” the chef said, as if to ward off his suspicions, “and I’m the cook of this ship, so trust me when I say I know what’s good for you.”

The drink certainly didn’t look poisoned – not black or purplish or anything – sitting there quite defenselessly, too, and the sun did suddenly seem to be getting just the slightest bit warmer, and Zoro had been sitting in the heat for quite a long while. Waving off Chopper’s previous warnings, Zoro gave a mental shrug, and reached forward to pick the glass off the tray, sighing a bit when his heated fingers closed around pleasant numbness. “Che. Fine. Itadakimasu.”

He drained the glass quickly. Drinks were drinks, and he really didn’t see any point of savoring something that was still going to pass out your other end in a couple of hours, anyway. True to the shitty chef’s words, it did taste good; The thick, cool liquid slid down his throat brilliantly, somewhat sweet, a little salty, but on the whole it tasted a lot like milk – which he supposed it would have, considering what it was – just a slight, pleasant tangent off the usual taste of dairy.

Zoro finished, wiped off the frothy foam from around his mouth, unwittingly smearing the slight milk moustache he’d gotten across his cheek as he passed the glass back to the chef with a quiet mutter of the customary, “Gochisosama.” Sanji received the glass, face red for some reason – probably surprised that he hadn’t received that much resistance – and with a mumbled “You’re welcome.” in response he hurried away back into his kitchen.

Zoro crossed his hands behind his head once more. Well, that hadn’t been so bad, he mused, and drifted peacefully off to sleep.
x x x x x x


Fuck, Sanji gasped into his hand, eyes squeezed shut, bowled over double as his other hand worked in fast, rhythmic jerks over his slick cock – wet with spit and precum and leftover soy milk shake – fingers sliding fast and needy over his weeping length, hips thrusting wildly as he groaned around his hand.

It’d taken him a while, but jerking off three times in succession was the most his body could handle, and so in the end it was eighty percent certified fresh soy juice and twenty percent fresh bodily fluids that had gone into making Zoro his precious soy milk shake drink. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to put up a fight – just accepted his drink – obedient, submissive in the way Sanji would never receive on any other day.

The feeling of somewhat-dominance had very nearly sent him over the edge right then and there, watching Zoro down the foamy drink – those hardened, narrowed eyes, lashes lowering as he’d swallowed – the shitty swordsman actually looked quite pretty when his eyes were closed – that half-lidded gaze he’d donned while his mouth worked around the drink, the way he’d swallowed everything greedily down.

That’s right, shithead, suck it, swallow it all down, let’s see how much you can take -

And he had wiped his mouth. Tongue flicking out slightly to clean up any remainders –

- hot wet skilled tongue dipping down, mouth that could work a fucking katana, lapping eagerly around him -

- drawing in stray liquid and white froth and the smear across his cheek -

- you want more of this, don’t you, you stupid fuck, suck it, suck it like the whore you fucking are -

- the subtle smirk of contentment on his face as he’d looked back up at him -

“Oh god - ”

And Sanji came hard into his hand, cries muffled as he bit down into his palm, body spasming as he curled in on himself over the sink, staring wide-eyed at the empty glass slowly leaking remnants of milk-white liquid, seeping slowly out and down the drain. He gasped, trying to catch his breath, flashes of the stupid swordsman swallowing dark and angry still coursing through his mind as he leaned on his elbows over the sink.

It might not have been hundred percent soy milk shake, but at least the bastard could be sure that he’d gotten more than the required dose of protein into his regular diet.

Part 5: Liquify


One last time. Just once. He didn’t dare give anything special to Chopper, for fear the reindeer’s sensitive nose would pick out the scent of a particularly human contribution to the meal. So that left Robin-chan. His intelligent, wonderful, beautiful, accursedly observant Robin-chan. He wasn’t going to be able to watch this time. The older woman would spot his obvious arousal in a heartbeat, and her brilliant, inquisitive mind would want to know why. And Sanji…well, he’d never been much good at lying to women.

So he’d taken extra pains to sate himself thoroughly into the simple dish of spiced peaches and heavy cream for his Robin-chan. She liked things like this, only a few ingredients, soft clean flavors. Hard to hide Sanji’s little additions, but he wasn’t a master chef for nothing. And there was so much delicious symbolism in this dish.

Well, it wasn’t really symbolic anymore. Sanji groaned, sliding a ripe pitted peach around his cock, tight slickness like the part of a woman the fruit most resembled. He had to be careful, though—if he squeezed too hard, he’d bruise the flesh of the peach, and that would never do. Only the best for his Robin-chan. The peach was splitting a little from trying to hold him as it was, and the sweet juice dribbling off the tip of his cock spoke of a thoroughly tenderized core to the little fruit.

Maybe he should have been gentler with the peach. It was, after all, its first time.

Sanji laughed throatily to himself as he came.
x x x x x x


“Robin-chwaaaaaaaan, this dish is made with one hundred and ten percent of my love! Please do me the incredible favor of allowing it to pass your lovely lips!”

Robin-chan looked up from her book, eyes quiet and deep. Sanji was sure that he’d calmed himself down enough to pass inspection, that his face wasn’t flushed and sweaty anymore. He was certain that the flavor would give away nothing except deliciousness. And yet…it was Robin-chan. Did she suspect somehow?

She reached for the bowl, and Sanji’s heart leapt, along with other organs. She was going to eat it! His special, special peaches and cream, and she was going to eat it, going to slip delicate peachflesh that had been marinated in more kinds of cream than she knew into her mouth and suck on it and bite down on the soft ripeness until it squirted its juices helplessly into her mouth and god he needed to be gone like now—

Sanji managed an awkward bow, tray held strategically, and turned to go. The soft clink of silverware on glass hurried his steps, and he was nearly out the door when Robin-chan’s voice stopped him.

“Chef-san?”

Dammit. He turned, tray still held at his waist. “Yes, my princess?”

“This is delicious.”

Sanji relaxed internally, even as his body reacted violently to that statement. He was safe. He’d pulled it off after all. “Your gustatory delight brings me infinite and boundless joy, my swan!”

She slowly, deliberately scooped up one of the slices of peach that had seen the most abuse. She held it up, inspected it carefully, and slid it into her mouth, sucking it in with a soft noise that made Sanji bite back a moan. He needed to leave. Now. Or all of his culinary cleverness would be for naught.

“It’s exceptional, even for you, Chef-san. I think your cooking improves when you masturbate into your food.”

Sanji couldn’t decide whether to flush, blanch, pass out, run away, or just die on the spot.

Robin-chan ate another bite of peach, pointedly savoring it, and licked the spoon clean, huge blue eyes and serene face barely concealing a universe of dark, hungry things. “Tell me, Chef-san…what are your thoughts on cucumbers?”

Sanji’s knees turned into near-orgasmic jelly. “Ohhhhh, Robin-chwan…”

“Get me one, Chef-san, and perhaps we can explore new gastronomic territory tonight.”

Sanji couldn’t sprint to the vegetable bin fast enough.

fin OH THANK GOD.
Got my first Deathwing kill tonight with a group of total goddamn fail-raiders. O_o

I was one of the only five people in a 25-man raid to survive the final phase and down Deathwing himself. Both tanks down, one healer still alive, and we still got it. I shouldn't bitch (I got Kiril, Fury of Beasts out of it, which should do me until I can get a Spire of Coagulated Globules, and my god does it look hilarious when it procs on a Goblin - I wind up taller than a male Orc - but I can't reforge the armor off it, which sucks balls, because now I feel vaguely guilty every time I walk past an undergeared druid tank) but these guys couldn't grasp raid markers, failed to comprehend the words "only kill ONE Corruption" and "STACK STACK STACK STACK STACK!" and were apparently also unclear on the difference between green and yellow. Every fight explanation alternated between the people going "IDK fight, lol" and the ones going "I DON'T CARE PULLPULLPULLGOGOGO" - a bad mix in any situation.

I swore the drama involved in running a guild raid team was too intense and I'd never do it again, but this level of tardery has got me thinking about it seriously.Collapse )

That turned out longer and rantier than I was expecting. Whew.

Writer's Block: It's payday!

What would you do if you had a million dollars?


If I had a million dollars...I'd be rich. </barenakedladies>

I'd pay off my student loans, help most of my friends get out of debt, get my car paid off, pay off my parents' mortgage, and then maybe go on that cross-country road trip I've always wanted to do. I'd probably buy at least one retardedly expensive thing that I've always wanted (like a Datamancer keyboard - I don't agree with the man's politics, but his custom keyboards are AMAZING).
...it's just that sometimes his response is to /point and /laugh.

I'm GM now. The argument our old GM had with some ex-guildies affected him more than he let on. He's quitting WoW, and I'm now H.B.I.C. for a 400-member half-dead level 25 guild. The GM's a good friend, so seeing him leave made me cry a bit (he asked for screenshots of the two of us together before he left), but I'd rather this happen than that he just slowly disappear (I've seen what happens to a guild when the GM just gradually fades away - it's not pretty). So now I'm officially in a position to either save or doom this guild. Guess all I can do is try.
Arg. My guild in WoW is dying, and I don't know how to fix it. GM's got RL aggro and has essentially been phoning it in for the past few months. We transitioned from being a raiding guild to being a social guild in an attempt to lower drama levels (after a few months of hell due to a vicious, verbally abusive raider who ran a lot of good people out of the guild and made several more swear off raiding for life - we waited WAY too long to kick her) and lost a goodly chunk of our members. Several of the remaining active members had a falling out with the GM and left. Most of the people who scheduled events, organized the GB, and generally made the guild a great place to be are gone - they've quit the guild, quit WoW, or server/faction transferred. There's just me and the GM now at the founder/officer table, and neither of us have copious quantities of free time anymore.

I've been in this guild since it was created more than a year ago. It's a level 25 guild that we've put a hell of a lot of work into. I don't like seeing it in this state. How the hell do I make this a fun place for people to spend their time again in the few hours a week I can actually log onto WoW? T-T

On the upside, I'm still successfully resisting the urge to write Koltira Deathweaver/Thassarian slash that revolves entirely around dirty puns on Death Knight abilities. Getting a Death Grip on his "Pillar of Frost" indeed. Must...not...go...there...with...Howling Blast...

Maintenance post.

I've staggered out of the depths of grad school for a bit of LJ maintenance. I've friended back everyone who's added me in the past...what month is it? @_@ If I didn't, it's because I suspect you are a robot, and not one of our kind, benevolent robot overlords either. If you can pass a Turing Test and think my assessment was unfair, please say so in a comment.

Have been watching a bit of anime, most recently Trinity Blood. Show lost some of its appeal when I realized that a) I liked the literal emotionless killing machine better than the main character and b) said emotionless killing machine doesn't show up very often.

Also recently watched:
~D. Gray-man (enjoyed, wish more was on Netflix)
~Soul Eater (made me hope the manga's much better)
~Darker Than Black (very good, despite the suspiciously emo title)
~Sacred Blacksmith (sucked - decent supporting cast squandered on a terrible main character)
~Black Butler (loved the hell out of, has the rare accolade that I liked ALL the characters including the annoying ones, also kind of want Ciel's Victorian boardgame of horror from the first episode)
Holy shit. Been a weird (but good) few months.

Things that happened:
~Lost my job in something halfway between a layoff and me quitting. Super pumped about this - I fucking hated my job, the supervisor who was making life tolerable there got a new job and his last day turned out to be the Friday after I left, and my severance package was pretty nice.
~Got accepted to graduate school LIKE A BOSS. I start in fall. Now comes the fun bit - trying to negotiate this whole "student loans" thing. Gave it a miss my first time through college and now I'm trying to puzzle out what an adult graduate student can and can't do with them.
~Started raiding heavily with my guild on WoW. Realized I officially had no life when I sat down and spent twenty minutes very seriously talking about a potential 6% damage difference between two glyphs on my hunter. *facepalm* According to my guild master, I'm the guild's Codex, whatever that means.
~Discovered that actually getting enough sleep breeds insomnia in me. Having not managed this feat in about five years, this was a shock.

Sooooo....yeah. Half afraid to try and get back into fandom, given that grad school will devour me in a few months. But MAN I miss fangirling, and the occasional discussion of how gay Koltira Deathweaver and Thassarian are for each other just isn't the same thing.

Oh hey what's this here now then?

As someone *coughdethoratscough* recently reminded me, LJs work better when you post on them once in a while.

What's new? Possible positive job-related excitement, me wondering how the fuck I wind up an officer in every damn guild/clan/alliance/whathaveyou in every MMO I play, tabletop RPG funtimes, me turning twenty-seven (better known as "oldsauce"), sister is in Dublin (!) now for veterinary school (and I quote: "Please send me some Old Bay, there's nothing to cook with here except beer and mayonnaise"), and holy crap it's snowing right now.

To people who friended me in the past couple of months, I'm sorry it took so long for me to get around to friending you back. @_@

Sup? :D
Gah, two months between updates. Shame on me. Oh well, nothing really interesting happened. :P

Life:
~Not going to Y-con - can't afford it. May be doing one day at AnimeUSA.
~Started playing World of Warcraft - sadly, it's actually cheaper for me than F2P MMOs. I'm playing on Bloodhoof server if anyone wants to hang.
~Pathfinder funtimes - working on a gnome rogue with a focus in dungeoneering.
~Had excitement and adventure with my debit card being part of a "mass compromise," to quote my bank. New card get, still trying to remember what all I had attached to the old one.
~Have had a phenomenally quiet and actually rather depressing four-day weekend while everyone else is on vacation. This bodes ill for my birthday next month (which I'll also be spending alone while all my friends are off at Y-con). Ah well, twenty-seven's a sucky birthday anyway; it means you're officially in your late twenties.

My persistent fandom!fail is actually kind of self-perpetuating at this point. Part of me is afraid to get caught up on One Piece - I keep hearing rumblings, and I'm sort of at "DO NOT KNOW IF WANT" about this timeskip business. I want to trust Oda-sensei, but still... ;_; I might just wait until the verdicts are in on its fail (or lack thereof). Sticking my head in the sand much? >>;

Driveby update.

What the hell's up:

~104 degrees in Baltimore today. CHRIST.

~Proud owner of a 42" HD TV as of last month. ♥ My XBox is way more fun to play on when I can actually use it to its full potential. My TV is made of sexy and awesome even if it is currently being ganked for a takarazuka show involving women dressed as men dressed as women, WTF it's like Victor Victoria except Japanese and sparkly.

~Speaking of XBox, TRANSFORMERS. :DDD Man, I'd forgotten how much I loved Soundwave's voice. I am SOBAD at this game, but I love it anyway.

~Speaking of games, tabletop RPGs coming my way in the immediate future: Pathfinder and Blue Rose. Actually rolling a random Blue Rose character as I type this. Blue Rose is kind of like Valdemar: the RPG, with a healthy dose of Tamora Pierce mixed in and a splash of Anne McCaffrey for flavor.

~BoI's pretty fun so far - open beta has kind of rocked.

~Job's been sucking less - my new boss is doing his best to keep me from having a nervous breakdown.

So, how're you all doing?
So during the closed beta for BoI, I did something I hadn't done before.

I had a male main.Collapse )

Man, look at all the dust around here.

Well, it would appear my one con of the year this year is Yaoi-Con. San Francisco, here we come.

Things to do before going:
~Catch up on One Piece
~Write some actual fanfiction instead of other crap
~?
~PROFIT!

Life updates:
~Got a new boss at work. He's a pretty cool guy, eh sings Single Ladies at his desk and doesn't afraid of anything.
~Man, aren't Alchemical Exalted great?
~Still playing Jade Dynasty, though I'm also waiting for the closed beta of Battle of the Immortals.
~Seriously, they're fucking great.
~Kicking around a Shadowrun character, because I don't play enough other systems. Any game where your fighting options can go "A) Fireball B) Heat-guided smart-missiles C) Rocket punch D) Lots and lots of bullets" is pretty cool.
~SUPER FIGHTIN' ROBOT MEN! Except they're not exactly robots. But still, awesome.

Not dead. Just pining for the fjords.

From plotbunny_tiff and proletariat_x:

1. Go through your iTunes/playlist/brain banks and find a song that reminds you of me.
2. Comment with the song name and the lyrics
3. Put this in your own journal to see what songs other people come up with for you
4. ???
5. PROFIT!

Also, Level 26 on Friday. One of these birthdays, I'll figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Hopefully, it will be a birthday before 30.

Tags:

"So warstriders qualify as armor, right?"
"Right."
"And anything that would apply to armor can be applied to them as well?"
"Yes."
"I cast Flight of Separation. My giant orichalcum robot explodes into a flock of swallows."
"...you have successfully evaded the Hateful Devourer of Love's clinch attempt. The people riding on your warstrider's shoulders may stunt to keep from taking falling damage."
"Vez uses the birds to slow himself down before turning the rest of his fall into an attack on the Hateful Devourer of Love."
"Ethan, Vez just jumped on your head. Vez, roll to attack. What's Frank doing?"
"Frank's gonna dump his armor and use Blood Chains to grapple it."
"The Hateful Devourer of Love?"
"Yeah. He's gonna try and muzzle it, kinda."
"...roll for it."

Yeah, that's pretty much my life. Playing a lot of NeoSteam (and a little bit of Jade Dynasty) and obsessing over Exalted. It keeps being damp or windy on weekends, so my Glati's hooves still aren't painted (sealing has to be done outdoors in low-ish humidity). I'm tempted to see if the gloss I bought to shiny them up would work as a substitute basecoat. >_>

So what's up with you, LJ-land?

Alive. Sort of.

Things that I've done:
-Got my Glati.
-Nerded out over Exalted.
-Went to Dragon*Con.
-Played NeoSteam.
-Got sick.

....yeah, that's about it. I'll take pictures of the Soomidget once I get his hooves painted. Exalted is rapidly devouring my brain with its endless supply of awesome. Dragon*Con was a tiny slice of hell primarily due to things no one could control (sprained ankles, hotel fee clusterfucks, long lines, etc.) and me getting cranky about them (which I could have controlled, but didn't), but still had enough decent moments to make it worthwhile. NeoSteam's been fun, though it's been sucking out my money like crazy lately. And I caught a cold at Dragon*Con that's making me severely unhappy via sleep deprivation and general blehness.

Writer's Block: Memo to Myself

If you could travel back in time, what advice would you give to your younger self?


Seek professional help. You're prettier than you think, and they're not ALL making fun of you (just most of them). Also, eat a goddamn sandwich. Yes, I know bread has 45 calories a slice and that's a whole 10% of your goal daily caloric intake, but you're gonna stunt your growth and destroy your circulation and your metabolism if you don't start eating like a normal human being.

Pop psychology and sweet filterin' axxn.

What does this Rorschach blot look like to you?


An evil pig with terrible tusks.

...huh. Wonder what THAT says about me.

Poll #1440619 Filter tiems.

Original fiction filter:

DO WANT
17(100.0%)
DO NOT WANT
0(0.0%)

BJD filter (for those of you not already on it):

DO WANT
13(86.7%)
DO NOT WANT
2(13.3%)


ETA: The polls are about whether you want on or not, not whether they should exist or not. >>; COMMUNICATIONS FAIL.

Shoom! Drive-by update.

I live, despite not having made an entry that doesn't have to do with dolls in almost a month.

Most of my free time as of late goes into playing NeoSteam. GOD I LOVE THAT GAME. Even the PvP is fun, though I get the feeling the GMs are asking for a minor miracle when the game setup involves two warring countries and they expect the citizens of each to play nicely with each other off the battlefield. >_>; The only part that sucks is that none of my friends play regularly, being not MMO-type people. I've got a couple of alts now (Luminita's my mage and Obscuro's my scout-ninja-ranger-type person), and have received my first "Holy shit, you're REALLY a for-real girl?!" from someone in-game, which actually makes the first time someone's been surprised by my gender in a decade-plus of geekery.

Job remains failsauce to the point that I have volunteered for any layoffs we might have. Anyone with any contacts in the science industry can hook me up any time now plz. ._.

Finally, I may have been talked into a Zoro Minimee group order. -_-; For those not in the doll community, that means commissioning an artist to sculpt a mold of Zoro's head. Yes, Roronoa Zoro from One Piece. That said, I'm not sure what color eyes to use--go with fanon and have them be green? Stick to his "canon" eyecolor and have them be black or brown? Compromise and get a very dark green? Curse you, Oda, only your girls get actual eye colors. Also, CRAP. I need to get his swords and pay extra to get a super-muscular body and commission his clothes and ASDFGHJDAMMIT ZORO YOU EXPENSIVE MARIMO BASTARD NO WONDER YOU OWE NAMI SO MUCH MONEY.

ETA: Idle curiosity: if I made an original fiction filter, would anyone other than people I know IRL be interested in it?

Minor pimpage.

Hey, kids! We (being myself, Arthur, and Justin) made an LJ comm to go with our TOTALLY SWEET panel.

sodw

It's kind of...empty, at the moment. >>;

And now, that 'three things' meme that's been floating around.Collapse )

Whine and ye shall receive.

Succeed or Die Writing III: 11:30pm on Friday.

Hey, not 2am this time! No news on which panel room yet, because they still don't have an actual schedule up--Arthur squeezed our time slot out of Panel Staff after merciless pestering. Still bet they put us up against either the yaoi panel or the other fanfic panel ("How (Not) to Write a Lemon"). We are only two men and one woman! What can we do against the forces of PR0N?!

Oh, right. Bring our own.

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