#but i really did not expect to be the size i actually am and its WILD

[noodlesarecheese]

So Watcher is launching a Dropout (it's not called Dropout but they're clearly using the same template format platform thing idk what it's called, and the same pricing structure), and the reaction so far has been wildly different than what I remember from Dropout's launch. I was curious about why that was or if I was just misremembering the Dropout launch, so I went back to the Dropout launch video to compare them and I think I can see where some of the difference is coming from.

If you want to make the comparison yourself: Watcher's Video, Dropout's Video.

I wanna clarify first though that this isn't a knock against Watcher or the fans who are reacting one way or another or anything like that, I genuinely am just fascinated with how different the reactions are to what seems to be the same business decision. This also isn't a 'wow watcher sucks and dropout is so much better' I'm just using them for comparison because they did the same thing with different results. ALSO this isn't about the business decision itself, just the presentation! Disclaimers out of the way, here's the analysis.

Title and Thumbnail So the Watcher.tv announcement video is titled "Goodbye Youtube" and the thumbnail is Ryan, Shane, and Steven sitting on a couch looking serious, with a dark background. That really makes it seem like they're quitting (which, ok, they are quitting youtube but not quitting quitting). Viewers are already primed to be upset, and it's easier to go from upset to angry than upset to excited, curious, or neutral.

Compare to the dropout announcement video: "How the Internet is Ruining Comedy" - inline with other collegehumor video titles, might make you curious. Thumbnail - Big News! with Sam smiling and a bright background. We know its big news, but he looks happy, and the exclamation point let's us know they want us to be excited. Viewers are primed to be curious and excited.

Tone The Watcher announcement has 2 main tones. The first half is very sentimental, almost sad or wistful at times, and while there are parts that veer into pride at achievements, it's mostly bittersweet and sentimental. The second half is a bit more uplifting, but still quite serious. It reminded me of a tech announcement, like when they introduce the new iphone or something like that. Very professional, sleek, and serious, which isn't automatically a bad thing! But I do think that's not the vibe a decently-sized chunk of the audience expected or wanted. Many people watch Watcher for the cast's dynamic with each other, humor, and the more relaxed/conversational/friendly feel that most of the series have.

Compare to dropout - excited and comedic tone. Still professional, but also fits the expectations of the viewers. People watch collegehumor for the humor (it was in the name, after all). They also poke a bit of fun at themselves, which lightens the mood, shows self-awareness, and alleviates some of the bad feelings about paywalling.

Focus The Watcher announcement focuses a lot on the creative journey of the cast and company, as well as how this move will benefit them. Which isn't a bad thing, that's actually quite interesting! The problem here, I think, is actually more about what isn't here - a solid explanation of how this will also benefit the viewers and why the viewers should be excited. There's a brief description of one new show, and the promise that existing shows will get an upgrade, but we weren't given many specific details about how they'll be improved, and there's only one new show to tempt us into subscribing. Some people will be excited for that, some people won't, and some people will be excited but not enough to subscribe. Having 2 or 3 series (even if it's 1 fleshed out plus a few teasers of what's in production or what is being planned) plus some more details about how existing shows will be improved would've helped. Without that, it really does seem like it'll just be the same stuff viewers were getting for free, but now paywalled, rather than new and exciting stuff. That makes a big difference. I think with the fans not getting as much focus, this also led to some (accidental, I hope) hurt feelings. Based on what I've seen from fan reactions, all the talk about hitting the peak of what they can do on youtube and wanting more, translated for many people to 'youtube isn't enough' which became 'you (the current viewers) aren't enough.' Which I don't think was their intent! But I also don't think fans are wrong for feeling hurt by that.

Compare to dropout: They clearly explain how the move will benefit fans, and reassure viewers that existing content will stay where it is, and only new content will be behind the paywall. (Watcher clarified this too, but in a comment. It's not in the video itself, which is a huge problem.) They include clips of several new (at the time) series that would be premiering on dropout, including things that specifically could not be made on youtube (due to weed, violence, and sexual humor), so the reason for the shift is clear to the audience.

Advertisers Both videos contain the sentiment that being monetarily successful on youtube means working to appease the advertisers, and that over time what the advertisers want and what the creators want drifts further and further apart, putting strain on the creators.

However, I think the message gets lost a bit in the Watcher vid. Instead, it leaves viewers with the idea that the main problem is just ads are annoying instead of advertisers putting constraints on content. I'm not even sure what the specific constraints are for watcher, because they didn't give any examples. And the focus on ads being annoying leaves viewers frustrated because people typically either don't mind ads or they already have an ad blocker.

Timing and Size Okay, this isn't exactly about presentation, but it is still a factor that impacts perception so I'm tackling it. And I'm actually going to do dropout first. CollegeHumor launched dropout in September 2018. Pre-pandemic, but also pre-Sam Reich as CEO. The company was still owned by IAC. It was a Company, and while it wasn't huge it wasn't tiny either. So launching dropout was a Company Decision, a Business Strategy. Some people were upset about, but it wasn't a personal betrayal (generally, anyways). If I remember correctly, this was also not a high point for the company. They kinda needed dropout to do well to keep things running smoothly (which is why they shut it down and sold it to Sam just 1 1/2ish years later), so the sudden shift made sense.

Watcher Entertainment is a company, but it doesn't feel like one. Ryan, Shane, and Steven own and operate things, but they're also the faces, and they're youtubers. Which makes every business decision they make feel more personal to viewers, especially those who have been watching for a long time. They've also seemingly been doing well on youtube, which makes it more difficult for viewers to understand why the sudden change is happening now. They do talk a bit about it, about the company expanding and wanting to do things that advertisers don't like (which I've already covered). However, mostly the choice to start a streaming platform is framed as 'the next big step' without much clarification on why it's the next big step. Plus, it's post-pandemic, and a lot of people are still struggling financially with the ripple effects of that. Yes, $6 isn't a wild amount of money, but there have been some months where $5 absolutely meant the difference between paying all my bills or not, and I know I'm not the only one. This, coupled with a lack of clarity about why exactly they're doing this, leads to fans feeling hurt, betrayed, bitter, and frustrated.

Now, presentation and framing isn't everything. No matter how perfect your announcement is, some people are still going to be upset. It's a big change, of course people will be upset! But I do think a more careful presentation would've alleviated some of the hurt and anger that fans are feeling. While I do think a lot of the reaction we're seeing is due to the decision, I think (based on what I've seen) that some of it is also based on the poor communication in the video itself, and that could've been avoided!

So I'm gonna get a little speculative and describe what I would've done. In this hypothetical, they've decided to launch the streaming service and brought me on just for the announcement.

Firstly, switch the title out. If they're married to Goodbye Youtube then add a (and hello...?) after so it's at least obvious they aren't fully quitting. The dark color scheme of the thumbnail fits their regular vibe, but they want everyone to be excited so they should look excited. Next, let's lighten the tone up. Being proud of what they've done so far is great, but we don't need the sentimental music and bittersweetness. Remember, the goal is to get viewers excited about what come's next - so let's focus on what actually comes next! Talk about specific show plans and mention why they wouldn't work on youtube. Then, take some time to reassure the fans. Predict a few likely worries and address them in the video. Acknowledge that it's a big change, that it will take time to get used to, and that not everyone will be onboard, and let the fans know that it's ok if they aren't onboard.

Like I said, this wouldn't fix everything. There are a few differences in between dropout and watcher that don't have anything to do with presentation. Dropout launched with primarily new shows rather than new seasons of existing shows, and they continued uploading to youtube relatively regularly in addition to the content behind the paywall, which I do think went a long way to keeping fans happy. At this point it's unclear if watcher will do either of those or not. But, while I don't think it would fix everything, I do think improved communication in the announcement would've helped.

#watcher #feel free to share your own thoughts but please be nice #I just like communication ok! And I really enjoyed the 1 marketing class I took in college #and it's pretty rare that you get such a clear comparison between 2 unrelated companies!

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Azul: That painting was done by a painter from the Coral Sea… I'm rather surprised at the number of merfolk focused paintings here in a museum on the surface.

Azul: I suppose I should expect nothing less from this Land of Dawning Museum with 100 years of history lining its halls. Their collection includes a wide variety of works.

Azul: Fufu, it does bring me pride a supporter of the museum. I must do my part well… Oh?

???: She's a lot bigger than I expected… Did the Sea Witch really need to grow to such a size…?

Azul: Well, well, Jamil-san. If there is anything I can elucidate you on this painting of the Sea Witch, I would happy to do so.

Jamil: Don't just listen in on someone else's personal mutterings like that. Your ears just pick up everything, huh.

Azul: The scene depicted in this painting is of when the Sea Witch was admonishing someone who tried to change their contract.

Jamil: And don't just start explaining without being prompted. Even I know about the story of when she transformed to that titanic size.

Jamil: But when I actually see this painting in person, she's just much larger than I had imagined… It's just hard to believe.

Azul: You believe this depiction is a fictional exaggeration of what actually happened?

Azul: I completely understand that. I had the same thoughts the first time I saw this painting.

Azul: Nevertheless, this painting has faithfully reproduced a well-known legend passed down in the Coral Sea.

Azul: The Sea Witch embodies the spirit of compassion. And yet, she also demonstrated her anger at the mer who broke their contract.

Azul: But all of it was for the purpose to reform the soul of the mer who had acted in bad faith!

Jamil: What, she disciplined them for their own good? …Actually, yeah, there are some people who don't learn their lesson from just a light scolding.

Azul: Indeed. That is how it is taught in the Coral Sea.

Azul: You cannot just spoil someone rotten, there needs to be some discipline as well. I believe that shows true compassion.

Jamil: I can't believe something reasonable actually came from your mouth… What's wrong, are you sick or something?

Azul: Not at all. I only say this because there was someone close to me who would do the exact same thing.

Jamil: You personally know a mer who is similar to the Sea Witch? Who could that be?

Azul: My grandmother.

Azul: She always dotes on me… And when I was a child, I was definitely spoiled rotten by her.

Azul: However, she didn't hold back on scolding me when I didn't heed her advice and mixed some dangerous potions together.

Azul: And that was beyond terrifying… She was as furious as whirlpools in a strait.

Jamil: Whirlpools in a strait, huh… I bet that was as intense at the Sea Witch in this painting.

Azul: Indeed she was. Even if I had wanted to swim away, my legs were shaking so much, I couldn't even move.

Azul: However, I do understand now that she was tough because she had been worried about me.

Azul: Even after leaving home, I diligently put forth the effort every single day while always remembering her teachings.

Azul: So whenever I go to work, I remember what she would say to me, and use that to strengthen myself before beginning.

Azul: She would say… "Become a mer who is capable of helping someone else."

Jamil: …I see.

Jamil: I gotta say, I wasn't expecting you to be that much of a grandma's boy. That's a bit of a shocker.

Azul: A grandma's boy… Well, I suppose. I am who I am now thanks to her.

Azul: Of course, it also wouldn't be incorrect to say that I learned the importance of proper compensation from her, either.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Azul: This is… a painting that depicts story of when the Fairest Queen disguised herself as an old woman and visited a young girl who lived in a forest.

Azul: If I recall, as a way to help the young girl in love, she personally came to deliver apples that the she needed for a dish.

Jamil: So she was going to get through to her love interest through their stomach, hm. If the Fairest Queen herself brought them all the way there, those apples must have been especially delicious.

Azul: Indeed, one can almost smell that sweet apple aroma just by looking at this painting.

Azul: I'm sure it would be rather difficult for a painter from the oceans to draw such a real-looking apple.

Jamil: You think? Apples are imported under the sea, too. I feel like they could draw it by looking at that…

Azul: Of course, we absolutely can get our hands of apples in the sea. However, there is a large difference in how the light hits it and how the color shines upon it when it is at the sea floor compared to the surface.

Azul: Unless that painter has spent enough years on land, the way they draw them will be completely different from how they look on land.

Jamil: Interesting. Speaking of differences, Azul… Is it true that things smell differently on land and in the sea?

Azul: Oh, you're quite knowledgeable.

Azul: It often does feel as though the same things smell differently under the sea or on the surface.

Azul: When I first came on land, every scent was new to me, so every time I came across something new, I made it a point to determine its aroma.

Jamil: You just went around sniffing everything left and right… Haha, makes me laugh just imagining it.

Jamil: I bet everything smelling different caused some confusion, huh.

Azul: I suppose so. However, I did make some new discoveries. I especially found my meal times to be very valuable.

Azul: I can never forget that moment I realized just how different the flavors of ingredients that we also had in the ocean could be just from the change in aroma.

Azul: People do often say that fragrance is a valuable part of determining the taste factor of a dish.

Jamil: That's true. Oftentimes spices are used as a way to add fragrance in the same way.

Jamil: So, what was the dish that made you realize that even the same ingredients could affect the flavor?

Azul: Just a simple grilled dish. Char-grilled meat or fish, for example.

Azul: Of course, I've eaten things made on land underwater before, but the flavor was completely different.

Jamil: Char-grilling, hm. I can definitely see that as having a different flavor, since those dishes heavily rely on aromas.

Azul: Indeed. As such, at Jade and Floyd's suggestion, we had a barbeque soon after we came to the surface…

Azul: However, our ingredients became charred due to our inability to control the heat properly, and smoke kept getting into our eyes… It was one hardship after another, since we had no idea how to do it effectively.

Azul: Not to mention that Jade and Floyd found it entertaining to keep blowing the smoke in my direction… It was a wretched time.

Jamil: Sounds like fun to me. I can picture just how disgruntled you must have been.

Azul: Oh, is that right? I'll make sure to invite you next time, Jamil-san, since you seem interested.

Jamil: …I think I'll pass, actually.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jamil: This is a painting of the Lord of the Underworld and his human helper from his legends, huh. This lady looks pretty unhappy.

Azul: It is said that they would have troubles compromising often, and it seems that she is very reluctant towards something here.

Azul: In addition, she had failed in a task that the Lord had given her, and made a major misstep by reporting incorrect information.

Azul: However, he didn't abandon her and instead gave her a chance to redeem herself.

Azul: How utterly generous he is… The Lord of the Underworld is a wonderful inspiration as someone who knows how to rouse his people.

Jamil: Well, I can't deny that, but… To me, there's something to be said about being too tolerant.

Jamil: I know I personally would rather not have an increase in workload because something gets promised without thinking.

Azul: Are you perhaps talking about matter of raising the PR level of Night Raven College that the Headmage requested?

Azul: When that topic was brought up in the last Housewarden meeting, Kalim-san was so forthright in accepting the task.

Jamil: You accepted it, too. This is an unbearable weight on me, and my fellow dorm students, you know.

Jamil: I get why softhearted Kalim took it on, but why would you go out of your way to accept this sort of annoying task?

Azul: No reason why… The Headmage was in need, so I volunteered out of the goodness of my heart.

Azul: Also… If this PR were to succeed, then it would be beneficial to me, as well.

Jamil: Beneficial to you?

Azul: If the good name of our academy is spread, then that will also reflect on us, you see?

Azul: More than ever people will recognize us as being students from that Night Raven College…

Azul: And if it is a grand success, then as one of the organizers, I may have the chance to grow my own opportunities.

Jamil: So that's why. You're completely different from Kalim, who just took it on because the Headmage asked.

Jamil: But anyway, this is all just hypothetical, right? There's also the chance that it's all just a waste of time and effort.

Azul: That is true. However, that is no reason to sit back and do nothing.

Azul: My main goal while at this academy is to maximize my own marketability before heading out into society.

Azul: In order to achieve that, there is nothing I am unwilling to do. I must take every opportunity that is given to me.

Jamil: Sigh, that's just like you.

Jamil: Speaking of which, have you already come up with how you're planning on increasing PR?

Jamil: I hear that the organizer will have to implement the best idea personally. That's a pretty hefty load, don't you think?

Azul: Fufu, I can't go into details, but… Of course, I've thought of some feasible ideas.

Azul: If you're interested, why not join us, Jamil-san?

Azul: It would be remiss if I were to completely monopolize this wonderful of an opportunity.

Jamil: No thanks. I'll be leaving now before I get wrapped up in anything troublesome.

Azul: Fufu, and there he slips away from me. …Hm? This painting…

Azul: It's the mermaid who fell in love with a human from one of the Sea Witch's legends. She seems so naïve and vulnerable; one prone to being led on.

Azul: Fufu… The world is cruel, after all. I wonder how much of reality she actually understood.

Requested by @pianostarinwonderland.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #twst azul #twst jamil #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: kalim #mention: jade #mention: floyd #mention: crowley

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 20 all chapters

gif credit to dilfgifs

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You try to go as long as you can, but later that night you decide you just can’t stand it anymore. You’re pretty sure it’s been days, and you feel gross.

“Can I…use your shower?”

He turns to you with a small smile. “You mean, our shower? Yes.”

Hoping that’s the end of it, and this exchange won’t get weird, you slip out from under his arm to go into the bathroom. You check your prospects, finding expensive shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, shaving gel…but no razor. You guess you get it, kind of, but really. Then again, maybe you'd better not ask. Why send mixed signals by shaving off your body hair? It’s just an aesthetic mostly catering to the male gaze anyway…

But it bugs you.

You pop your head back out of the door. “Razor?”

He doesn’t even look up from his book.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

This annoys you for some reason. “Just so you know, I am not going to try to kill myself.” Brave words for someone in your situation, but at least at the moment, you mean them.

“I was more worried you might try to kill me.”

You open your mouth again, until he fixes you with that laser-like stare. “Just take your shower, y/n, or do I have to come in there to help you?”

The thought of his large hands on your body slick with soap sends an inconvenient spear of desire straight to your center.

“No.”

You disappear fast as a groundhog into its burrow, closing the door behind you.

“Door open!” he yells in that particular tone, and sensing the shift in his mood, you comply rather than pull his tail some more.

Well done, you, you chide yourself as you strip out of your dirty dress and your ACE bandage in the cavernous shower. He was actually in a good mood, somehow, after you tried to knock his head off with a book. And now you…what? You did something to piss him off, at least a little bit.

Learning his moods was going to take some doing.

It was the only way you were getting out of here alive.

You keep looking over your shoulder, half expecting to see him looming behind you. That man moves silent as a ghost when he feels like it.

It’s creepy. And…kind of hot, if you’re being honest, but that is not a helpful thought.

You feel a thousand times better with all the grime washed from your hair and your body. You wrap yourself in a big fluffy towel that feels like a cloud on your skin, and put off going into the bedroom by drying your hair.

There are products on the sink that you use, face lotions and hair creams, and more expensive versions of the same type that you could never afford. How did he know?

Then again, he has fucking gorgeous hair, he probably knows more about styling product than you do.   

You turn to look at his handiwork upon your bum. The bruise is a red and purple swirl nearly the size of your fist. You can actually see the neat lines of his teeth marks. “Jesus Christ.”

His eye was going to heal way before that was.

When you can’t really dawdle in the bathroom anymore, you war with the next conundrum.

Fresh clothes.

Fuck it. You march out, heading for the closet without making eye contact with the reclining leopard on the bed. You can feel his eyes on you, and fuck if it doesn’t turn you on to be watched like that. Like you are some kind of prize to be desired.

It feels utterly insane to you, to say the least. You’re not that beautiful, but he looks at you like you’re Helen of Troy.  

With your hand on the closet door John clears his throat pointedly.

You know you can’t ignore him. Risking his wrath while you’re wrapped in nothing but a bath towel is so not a good idea.

You turn to find he’s laid something out at the foot of the bed for you already.

“Wear this,” he says. It’s an order clothed in velvet. Polite, but…you sense the unyielding directive underneath.

You pad on bare feet to the foot of the bed. It’s a silky lavender nightie with lace at the bodice. Nothing too wacky. No embarrassing peep holes or extraneous straps. You are somewhat relieved.

Until you see the underwear he’s paired with them.

Your underwear, as a matter of fact.   

Those went missing a long time ago.

Speechless, you look to him, knowing you look like a fish out of water but unsure what to say.

This has been going on for way longer than you even knew, and you didn’t have a clue.

“You took these from my apartment.” You manage not to yell it.

“I didn’t want you to wear them for anyone but me.” He has the cheek to sound grouchy about it, like you did something wrong.

You feel your temper rising like the mercury in a thermometer. You know you’re going to say something stupid, but you just don’t know how to keep it in.

“How. Fucking. Dare you?”

He just sighs, like he already knows how this is going to go. “Don’t play this game with me, baby.”

You bite down on the impulse to demand he not call you baby.

“You could have just…asked me out. I would have said yes, you know?”

He actually looks away as you tell him this.

“Maybe you would have. Until you realized I’m just a bitter old man, and you would have left me.”

You blink at that. How can he be so smart, and yet so blind?

“I knew you were a bitter old man all along! But you know what? I liked you anyway. I thought you were interesting, and funny, and so fucking handsome, and I wanted to fuck you. But now…” You clench your fists, shaking with all the vitriol you know you can’t unleash on this unpredictable man.

This unpredictable killer.

He takes your fury, seemingly nonplussed. You’re not sure any of it registers at all, and it takes some of the wind out of your sails. “This isn’t love, John,” you say quietly, your throat tightening with every syllable. “Love is…having the courage to bare your heart to the sword, and take what comes. You can’t control it like this.”

He tilts his head at this, a wave of that lovely dark hair covering his face. You get the feeling like he’s hiding from you, when he does that.

Finally he asks, “Have you ever been stabbed, y/n?”

Your heart skips a beat, as you wonder if he’s threatening you. “No.”

“Well let me tell you. It fucking hurts.”

Then he reaches down the bed to pluck up the panties, sticking them in his pocket. “I guess I’ll just keep these. You’re not going to need them anyway.”

You glare daggers at him.

He offers you the slightest, smuggest, smile.

“You sonofabitch.”

“Watch that mouth, kitten. Unless you want me to fill it up with something else.”

You bare your teeth with the thought. “I fucking dare you,” you spit, snatching up the nightie to take it to the bathroom to change.

“Nuh uh,” he interjects. “Change here.”

You freeze in your tracks, understanding exactly what he’s demanding of you.

This is how it’s going to be, you tell yourself. He’s going to be sweet, and then he’s going to be insufferable, and if you’re not careful, he’ll get downright mean. Don’t be fooled by the sweet moods, because all the rest is just beneath the surface waiting.

It was so hard to remind yourself of that, when he was being good to you.

You don’t turn around. You moonlighted as a drawing model after college. You can handle this, right? He’s already seen parts of you anyway…

It’s soooooooooo much different than being in that classroom, when you undo your towel and let it fall to the floor. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your bare form. In the end, knowing it’s just your backside, that he’s already gotten way more than an eyeful of…doesn’t really help. With shaking hands you quickly you pull the nightie over your head.

You hope he feels guilty about the size of that fucking bruise, but you have a feeling he probably likes seeing his marks on you.

“Come here.” He practically purrs, and your flesh aches for the sound. Fuck.

You turn to face him, but do not move. Once again, that glorious boner is making an appearance. It’s almost flattering, how often this man has a hard-on when he’s around you. If this had been a normal relationship, you would have made it your mission to oblige him at every opportunity, just to see what the old man could take.

As it is…all you want to do is fight him, and you know you are destined to lose.

He pats his thigh, as though he expects you to sit on his lap. Without underwear. Or a bra. Or a sense of self-preservation.

You shake your head no with the glitter of moisture in the corners of your eyes. You’ve never felt so helpless in your life, and you hate it.

 He frowns at your defiance. My god, no one can do a forbidding frown, like Mr. John Wick. It lodges your heart in your throat, even while you find him magnificent.

“Are you going to make me make you?”

And there it is.

You sigh, and you feel like a piece of your soul exits your body. Good. Good, be empty. He can’t hurt an empty husk.

“I guess so.”

You close your eyes, and you wait. You wait for his rough hands, for the violence that is surely coming to you. You shake like a leaf, unable to stop. You don't know why you'd allowed yourself to hold out some hope, that maybe he really wasn't going to hurt you.

Yet, it does not come.

You open your eyes to find him still frowning at you. He hasn’t moved a muscle.

The longest three seconds of your life tick by. You count them in your thundering heartbeats, and then he scoots over on the bed. “Fine. Come lay by me then.”

You are shocked to your toes. You forget how to move. 

“Now.” He snaps his fingers, pointing to the bed beside him, and you scurry over before he loses his patience with this kinder offer. Cautiously you crawl up beside him, and when he holds up his arm you understand the cue, snuggling into his side with your head on his shoulder. 

Alright, this, you can do. 

This feels almost…normal. The way your head fits into the divot of his shoulder is just…divine, if you’re being honest, and your body shudders as you suppress a sob, hiding your face against his chest. It’s not fair, that you still want him so much, and you mourn for the promise of sweetness that was snatched from your table before you ever really got a chance to taste it.

“Shh,” he soothes, touching your hair, his big hand dwarfing the crown of your head. “I’ll try to remember to be patient with you.”

You nod against him, wanting to believe him, knowing that makes you a sad little fool.

“But my patience has its limits. Remember that, kitten.”

Oh. You weren’t going to forget.

He continues to hold you, and eventually your heart slows, the tension in your body finally relaxing.

It’s incredible, really, how you just can’t leave well enough alone.

Now that you’ve both calmed, you feel bold enough to ask, “John?”

“Yeah, baby?” His lips on the top of your head make your eyelids flutter, it’s so sweet.

“Do you…at least know that it was wrong, to break into my apartment?” You feel like the answer to this one question will help you gauge everything about his state of mind.

He is silent for a long time. Long enough to let your imagination run rampant with the things he might do to punish you for this impertinence, after he was so generous as to just let you lay down with him and snuggle.

Yet there’s no anger in his voice when he answers, “Yeah. But I’ve been breaking the law my whole life, sweetheart, and no one’s stopped me yet.”

It’s the truth, and a nice neat little warning, all wrapped up in one.

You should be scared again, but you just sigh against his chest. Maybe you’ve used up whatever hormone is responsible for adequate fear responses for the day. Or maybe…his games are working on you already, claiming your sanity inch by inch.

You lay there in his arms, and eventually you start to doze. He strokes your hair, a sweet and lulling touch that makes you curl your toes. When those featherlight fingertips find their way to the back of your neck, and the tops of your shoulders, you cannot help but squirm. In your half-asleep state, this is your kryptonite, and your leg tangles with his, your pelvis pressing against his hip. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, to crane your head towards him.

Only when you feel him shift to lean towards you for a kiss, do you realize what you are doing.

You turn your head at the last second, and his grip on you tightens from comforting to bruising in a nanosecond. “Wait—”

He has you on your back before you can blink.

 “Are we still pretending you don’t want me, kitten?”

“I…”

Suddenly his hand is between your legs, manhandling you like he owns you, raking up your thigh to swipe at your folds. He finds you soaking wet with slick, of course, and he makes a point to press your clit with his thick fingers as he withdraws. It sends an agonizing jolt of desire spreading through the cradle of your hips, the ache in your stupid little cunt nigh unbearable. You hardly recognize the keening sound that escapes your mouth.

Was that you?

It worsens ten-fold as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. “Tastes like lies to me.”

Goddammit.

“John…”

You can hardly believe it, when he slides off of the bed, leaving you cold and alone, confused and filled with desire. The pulsing ache between your legs drowns out any rational thoughts you might have had a moment ago.

“Little liars don’t get to cum. I’ll let you think about that tonight.”

You feel like you did that night in Italy, watching him walk out the door when all you really want is to feel his thick, insatiable cock teeming inside you.

Which is fucking insane, of course.

And you were thinking he might be the crazy one?

 “Same rules, sweetheart. Don’t you dare touch yourself tonight. I’ll fucking know.”

With one last baleful look over of his shoulder he touches his hand to the lock, and sweeps out of the room. He leaves you stunned on the bed, disheveled and unsure, once again, of what the fuck just happened?

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere #i didn't think id get a chance to post tonight so BONUS i love you all!

[justcallmesakira]

Omgomgomgomg Sakira for your Valentines event, can I request Angst prompt 11 (''Soulless roses purge from my mouth, with your lips on another womans one'') for reader and Dazai please? I'm a sucker for unrequited love owueuaisha but please take your time with this request! 💖

"Soulless roses purge from my mouth, with your lips om another womans one"

Prompt 11

Sypnosis: Really, hanahaki symptoms for a man who flirts with every single woman? How pathetic and foolish can you be?...

Genre: full angst

Dazai x reader

Warnings: vomiting obv since its hanahaki disease, no comfort(?), implied jealousy, suicide, slight implication to "No longer human", happy ending!!! :D

A/N: Tysm silver for requesting!! i tried my best to finish it in time but i am very sick rn so---i decided to give a happy ending since i was feeling merciful today :33

»~⋆ Hanahaki Syndrome˚⋆« -Shiki Miyoshino 𝟎:𝟑𝟒 〇────── 𝟎:𝟓𝟖 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You loved him, alot actually.

But was he yours to begin with? Did you really believe he could be yours?

Dazai was sort of a playboy you knew. Everyone in the agency warned you about his tactics and charms.

"Dont worry, kunikida-kun! i am not going to fall in love with dazai, hes just a collegue at the end of the day!" You replied to kunikida when he warned you about the bandaged man. "Still, y/n I know you probably wont even get in contact with that guy, but i will just remind you of that womanaizer" Kunikida said with a serious tone, he was not very angry or anything but simple putting out care for you.

But did you listen? Because those petals say otherwise.

You entered the cafe downstairs with a beaming smile. You made Dazai a bento box today, if anything you even used various food items to draw out Dazai`s pretty face over the rice.

“Ah Bella!!! I can’t believe it, you should totally come to my apartment tonight”

You were expecting the same waitress he would flirt with everyday but to your surprise when your eyes met the couple sitting on one of the tables, you were shocked.

A woman, perhaps a bit older than the man flirting himself, pretty amber eyes and shiny long black hair.

You couldn’t decide whether you should go up to dazai and give him the gift you worked hard on or just leave them be. You hated it when he flirted with other women..a bit too much.

it hurts you, really it did to see him with someone other than you. Were you not worthy of him? Were you just an another girl who was the bandaged man’s doll to toy around with? Were those moments when he excitedly held your hands just a lie? Were those missions you protected him with your life just for the agency..?

Was coughing out all your pain in flowers really worth it? For him? For Dazai Osamu? For your ‘only love’?

No! It couldn’t be! Of course he would love you! Dazai would surely give you all the affection and love you needed, right?

While you were lost in your thoughts all of a sudden the pain you were feeling in your head started to form in your heart, and that heart dropped down to your stomach which instantly made you drop the bag and run to the washroom, the urge to puke coming out of your mouth.

Your steps slowed down as you reached the basin

"Oh god this isn`t happening, shit shit"

cough cough

Petals of a crimson rose chunked out of your mouth forcefully as you kept coughing, You swore you could feel a lump feeling in your throat as if a huge, full bloomed sweetbriar would pour out of you and into the sink.

You wanted to cry, why did this hurt. This feeling of being unheld and sore for someone else's touch and love who will probably never even look at you in the same light,,,It hurt more then the never ending fir you were currently expreriencing.

After an painful epiisode of coughing , a huge floret perhaps the size of a human eye lumped out of your throat which left you panting as your knees felt weak against the counter and you washed you face with some water.

The pain was so unbearable you had to fight the urge to rip off ur throat. Just looking at your reflection on the mirror lets you see why Dazai doesnt want you.

"Y/N-chan!! are you alright?" a familiar voice of a young tiger boy calls out to which you reply, "Ah! dont worry A-atsushi-kun i am A-OK!!"

Your voice shouts back cheerfully still, the sickness could be heard in your tone even after you go out and see dazai with a cheeky smile holding the bento box in his hand. He seemed to have found your little gift.

"Y/NNNNN!!! you seem sick ya alright? Also is this for me?? Your so sweet yknow! i could almost give out my heart to you!" The man says with stars in his eyes, quite the pretty set of eyes you thought. "Ah- thats r-right dazai i made it specifically for you, i really..really hope you like it" you somehow blurt out, god was it agonizing to know that that sweet soft smile doesn`t belong to you even if its a mask, a mere fake smile.

It hurts...alot to know this harsh reality.

Why were you so weak? You had questioned yourself each time your pathetic condition got worse, each a new shade of crimson indicating it was getting worse.

The day went normal, the ladies` man flirting with the woman from the bar across the street from what you had heard her name was Tsuneko, a pretty girl with a pretty smile, Oh how badly you wished you were in her place. In her shoes, laughing and sneaking off to who knows where with that bandaged man.

Atsushi noticed your drowsy eyes and gloomy demeaner but didn`t comment anything only stopping by a few times to check whether you were okay or not, he was sweet and caring, he really was.

Too bad you didn`t listen to everyones words.

During lunch hour you saw how dazai opened your bento box which you put your heart to with care and started munching on a crab leg, he loved crabs.

You were happy even for a moment that atleast his hue on his cheek brightened until you realized a certain someone was accompanying him.

It was like a illness blooming from a dying wilted seed.

Slowly dazai placed a chunk of the seasoned crab on her tongue, Tsuneko.

"Wow, Osamu this is really good did your friend make this?" she inquired in delight. "I know? god shes so sweet!" the man snickered and continued to talk more about his friends, or so what he calls them.

By time you had seen how intimate they got, their secret walks, the night, everything just because how dazai told you how he found the perfect suicide partner.

Tsuneko Tsuneko, Tsuneko, Tsuneko...

Everything was about her yet you still couldn`t loathe the deary couple, they looked like actual soulmates. Who were you to interfere?

You had a little crush now your hating on some sweet woman, seriously how pathetic can love really make you be you had wondered on your final moments.

Days turned into weeks

Flirts turned into touches,

Petals turned into full bloomed roses.

And still your heart didn`t stop beating rapidly around him, even though you tried avoiding him can your love for him be avoided?

It was painful, how longer, why did god allow you to love.

You coughed out another rose on your bathroom sink, a black one this time. The colour of mourning, whereas you mourn for your dead love, one which wilted away like a sad rose in a garden of white lilies long ago yet you still water it. It has been so long that you had beared with this pain, everyone`s hearts have its limits.

You could only feel tears brimming down your face like a glistening waterfall as your legs gave in to the soreness of your body and the aching of your throat.

"Why..dazai, why me..."

It was time...

Dazai and Tsuneko shared many similarities, in which both of them were poor, unhappy souls. Both of them shared lots and lots of conversations which escalated to a funs and giggles to words of a deeper route.

You could have also conversed with him, but he had already deemed you to be a normal and simple daisy, not a beautiful roseate with petals growing out of passion for him.

"Tsuneko, join me in a double suicide, if i have to die i want to die with the woman of my dreams." Dazai declared to her, holding her soft hands in his dry bandaged ones. It seemed the whether will deteriote like a corpse today by the way the clouds are looking.

Both of them stood on the sandy meadows of yokohams grounds with tsuneko in a delightful expression.

"Oh dazai, yes, yes lets do it dazai for i too am sick of this body" Tsuneko smiled, a dead smile. Tsuneko loved dazai and maybe he loved her back too so it would only be appropriate for them to die together.

And as the two lovers slowly collided with the water, your body stood with grace in a flowing white dress slid upon your scarred body.

"Soulless roses purge from my mouth with your lips on another womans one." you tune out softly in despair and a voice of shallowness which you wish you could use to sing for dazai and for him to look at you the way he looked at Tsuneko when she sang on the bar stage.

Your eyes were empty, you can finally be free like a bird in the sky with no strings of a human heart attached with you. The blood splattered on your dress made you looked etheral with your open hair flowing in the harsh wind under the grey skies.

A set of bare feet on the bridge`s railing. Pitch black empty eyes, a rosy and murdered dress and at least...Peace.

You fell hard onto the lake, you were used to this though. This bottomless deep sea of emptiness was nothing compared to the sea of agony you felt when you saw him.

Two bodies were later found at the lake, both gone cold from the freeze of the atmosphere.

A woman was also found it was indicated that she tried to end her life for her eyes seemed to be filled with agony when the poilce found her and somewhat saved her.

"Dazai, my...baby dazai" the woman sniffed and cried on the ground with sirens being loud in the background.

"Ma`am would you please tell me who this dazai is and what is your name?" a female police calmly asked the hysterical woman on the ground.

"Tsuneko.." sniff sniff "Dazai, we promised..to die together, why..?" she cried bitterly. There was only her who they found but after a few moments just when they were about to send tsuneko to the poilce officer they found two corpses run cold from the freezing water.

A brown haired man with a beige coat and another young woman with a gorgeous white dress and blood splattered all over the fabric, it seemed like she vomitted out the blood.

"They.. hahh. They were meant for each other weren`t they..." tsuneko said with a somewhat tired yet relived smile. Its true she was disappointed she couldn`t die with her loved but at least she got to see two people who had coughed out flowers of kinds for each other get intangled, even in death.

Even though both the corpses went cold somehow a glow of light and passion radiated from them for both of them had a smile on their faces infact another thing they identified which was common was that in the pockets of both bodies were an overflowing amount of sooty crimson roses.

The petals weren`t worth all the fight but at least you knew that the same person you coughed for had the same condition.

A/N: Fun Fact Fiction time! (i luv doing these lol-): If you didnt know, tsuneko is actually a character from Dazai Osamus book "No longer human". She was the one who commited double suicide with Oba but oba was the one who survived and tsuneko died which mean..yknow :)

Divider crds!: @plutism

Tags!: @silverbladexyz @saelique @atlasnessie @biscuits-spooky-corner @tojifile @ruanais @riiwrites @tsuunara @typcallysid14 @heartsfourdazai @elizais (Do let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my taglist in my inbox!)

#sakira! #bungou stray dogs #sakiras writing notebook!!! #bungou gay dogs #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bsd stuff #bsd dazai #dazai angst #hanahaki disease #valentines sweetheart event #unrequited love #heartbreak #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 7

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Fat shaming, name calling, kissing, angst. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6K!!!

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi guys! I'm so sorry this took a little extra longer than usual. I've had a lot of ideas for this chapter for a long time and I struggled with putting it all on paper. I'm also on vacation 🤪 but I really wanted to get this one out there, especially before Halloween. Also I'm sorry if the spacing and stuff is crap, I did this from my phone/iPad while falling asleep at 3:30 AM. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

__________

You awoke with a start, your alarms blaring through the bedroom. Giving the snooze button a smack, you reach across your mattress, touching the sheets to find the other side of your bed empty.

It was still warm, but missing the actual body that you fell asleep cuddled next to. Blinking your eyes a few times, you called out into the bedroom. "Baby?"

You climbed out of bed, making your way down the hall to the living room, where you finally saw him on the couch. Sound asleep, eyes gently closed, a soft snore passed from his mouth. At the sound of your footsteps, he opened his eyes, giving a big stretch and wagging his tail.

"Good morning Skippy, my little sunshine! I missed your cuddles this morning. Why'd you move to the couch?"

He looked at you and yawned, his eyes closing once again. You giggled and headed for the shower to get ready for another day. Some of us have to actually work and get stuff done in this house!

_____

The day at work was busy, leaving little time to chat with Pedro. You couldn't help but smirk to yourself as your coworkers buzzed about your new album freshly released the day before. They still hadn't figured it out, but you decided you would continue to let it be your little secret a bit longer. They didn't need to know. Just you and Pedro could share this for now.

On your lunch break, you finally opened your phone to find a few text messages from him. "Good morning! I had fun video chatting with you last night. I'm so glad we listened to your album together, and it was nice to finally get to see you." His message made your heart skip.

Second text from Pedro: "Hey, I hope work is going well for you. I was thinking, maybe if you'd like, we could chat again later? If you don't want to video chat anymore, no pressure, but I enjoyed it and thought maybe if you wanted to, we could."

You replied. "Hey P! It's been a crazy day :) but a good one. Especially waking up happy after enjoying a lovely evening. I would really love to video chat with you again too."

Pedro breathed a sigh of relief at your answer. He couldn't help but feel nervous to ask you, despite having just video chatted last night, and he also didn't want to make you feel pressured; especially with someone as private as you are. But with your response, he smiled as he felt his stomach fill with butterflies at the thought of seeing you again.

_____

Later on, after work, the two of you were texting and deciding on the time to video chat again. However, before you called, Pedro texted you again. "Hey, I had a question for you, but I didn't want to ask it over the phone or video call and make you feel pressured. But, there's this Hollywood Halloween party coming up in a few days. I know you still want to keep your identity, but I thought if you'd like to, each guest is allowed to bring a date, and I thought you could mingle a little with some other musicians and actors. I can just tell people you're one of my friends from a set if you don't want to give your real name. You don't need to tell them anything you don't want out to the public. Plus I would love to spend some time together in person too, if you want to. I know it's a lot, so if you would rather not go, I understand. But I'd love to meet you."

The idea of going to a party filled with other celebrities, AND Pedro, had you filled with mixed emotions. Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Love-sick. Hesitant.

After a bit of thinking,you decided, and the answer seemed obvious from the start. The party sounded terrifying, and was completely unknown territory. But you also knew that if you didn't go, you'd surely kick yourself and regret this chance forever.

Finally you replied. "Okay! I'll go. I'd love to spend time with you, too, Pedro. Thank you for inviting me."

He replied again: "Really?! So, will boo be my date? 👻"

You: "That was a little too.. (candy) corny. I may have to ghost you. 🎃"

Pedro didn't miss a beat. "Okay, you're driving me batty. 🦇 Want to call and talk about our costumes?"

Oh shit, I forgot about costumes.

The two of you chatted, easily falling into the comfortable conversations you always do. Fitting together like two peas in a pod. Even though neither of you were dressed up fancy anymore, it didn't feel like you had to be someone else, or dress up. Things were comfortable. Easy.

Pedro suggested a matching costume, which made you want to scream and pace through your living room. Unfortunately, due to your camera situation, pacing and screaming would surely cause some alarm. After dancing around things like pirates, ketchup/mustard, and movie characters, you finally had an idea and suggested Cinderella and her prince.

"It just feels kinda fitting you know? Nobody knows who I am, but I go out for once, I meet this prince, and he lets me have this fun night. But then at the end of the night, everything goes back to normal, and I'm unknown again."

Until he eventually can't stay away and they both fall in love and live happily ever after… but that's neither here nor there. Totally not my intention.. pffft…

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Should I send a carriage?" He joked with a wink, but you could tell he was a little bit serious. You couldn't help but feel like he would have reserved a carriage ride in a heartbeat had you said yes.

"Absolutely not. Way too big of a scene," you laughed. "In fact, I actually have work that day. Would it be possible for me to just meet you there after I get off work? I can just take an Uber across town. My work isn't too far from the party and I'm sure parking will be a mess."

Pedro agreed, although he felt bad you'd be taking a ride-share service alone and continued to offer a ride if you needed. He also felt a bit disappointed he wouldn't get to have any time alone with you beforehand, but he wasn't about to tell you that detail.

Either way, the two of you agreed on your plans, and as the days led up to the party, you grew more and more eager. You also felt more and more dread in the pit of your stomach.

But this will be good. It has to be. Right?

_____

The night of the party came quickly.

You got off work, took a quick shower, changed into your costume, did your hair, and added a little bit of makeup. The costume felt silly, but you kept telling yourself it was Halloween and everyone would be in costumes. Plus, you have a handsome prince waiting for you inside. As your mind and heart raced, the Uber driver pulled up to the curb, dropped you off, and you were met with a line to the entrance.

The line to the party was lengthy, filled mostly with eager fans, paparazzi, and journalists hoping to gain entry. Occasionally you'd see a celebrity pass by, but they were quickly ushered in once they were recognized.

You, however, were unknown by all. So you stood in line, surrounded by others who hoped desperately to meet their favorite celebrity. Not unlike yourself.

Having finally made it, you sent a quick text to Pedro. "Hey! I'm here :) sorry I'm late."

Your stomach twisted in knots. Sure, you were excited to meet Pedro. Especially with as much as the two of you have been talking over the past couple months now-

Geez, has it really been months?

But despite your connection, you still had that nagging self-conscious worry that he might not like you. Maybe he's just been talking with you to be nice, and the second you're together in person he won't give you the time of day. Maybe he will find you boring in real life. Maybe he will think you're ugly. Or weird. Or fat. Or -

"Next!" The bouncer at the door yelled after sending yet another hopeful fan away. Your stomach dropped and your mouth was dry.

"Hi, I-"

"NAME?" He barked, clearly done with this whole event.

"Well, actu-"

"Speak up princess, I can't hear ya when ya mumblin," the man said with a thick New York accent.

You cleared your throat. "Actually my name isn't on the list, I'm a guest of Pedro Pascal."

The man, towering over you, let out a bellowing laugh. "YEAH, I'm sure ya are, toots. You and every other woman in this joint."

"But I-"

"And trust me, I've turned away much prettier broads than the likes a' you at this doorway," he said while looking you up and down with an amused look as if he had just told the punchline at a comedy club.

Your heart sank. You always said things like that to yourself on the inside, but it wasn't often that people were that blunt to your face.

The man sneered while smacking his gum and arrogantly moving it to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. That gum. You wanted to punch him if you had to hear him smack it one more time.

"Back a' the line, kid. Y'ain't gettin' in here tonight, but I appreciate the self-confidence," he said, laughing at his own joke.

Disheartened, you didn't even care about meeting Pedro anymore. Your mood was dampened, your ego was hurt, and all you wanted to do was go home, get out of this stupid costume, and cry on your couch. With a short nod, you bit your lip to choke down the tears, turned, and headed towards the exit.

"Hey!!! There you are- wait where are you going?"

You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Pedro.

You turned around, swallowing down your emotions and putting on a fake smile, despite the wave of hurt and anxiety pooling in your stomach and chest. "Hey, Pedro! You found me."

Pedro smiled at the guard and snuck past, telling him "hey, she's with me." Fans in line squealed, which he greeted with a kind wave and charming smile. At last, he reached you and gestured for the two of you to head inside to the party. You gave a nod and a small, half-hearted smile.

You didn't want him to know how upset you were. Not only did you feel pathetic and slightly agree with the bouncer, but you also didn't want to ruin Pedro's night.

As the two of you entered the crowded party, you looked around at the decorations. Filled with purple and green lighting, the Halloween music blared and monsters danced the night away. A bowl of green punch sat on a table to the side, surrounded by bowls of candy and platters of snacks. An open bar was on the back wall, providing both normal booze, and Halloween themed drinks topped with gummy worms or syrup made to look like blood. To the right of the bar was a door to the large rooftop balcony which held tall, dark-green potted hedges, perfectly trimmed and shaped underneath rows of charming fairy lights. Beyond the shrubbery, the deck had several nice patio tables and chairs, a few people catching their breath outside or chatting, and a gorgeous view of the city below with the sparkling sky above.

Back inside and off to the right of the patio door, away from the dance floor, was a door which you assumed was the restroom, based on the long line of women.

"I'd like you to meet some people, if you feel up to it," Pedro yelled to be heard over the booming music from the dj.

"Okay!" You yelled back.

He led you over to a couple of people off to the side of the dance floor, one you recognized as his friend Sarah Paulson, who was dressed in a shimmery witch costume.

Pedro introduced the two of you. Sarah was very sweet, and while you talked music and acting, Pedro touched your shoulder and spoke into your ear to avoid yelling. "I'm going to grab a drink, can I get you anything?"

"I'll just take a soda, thanks!" Although some alcohol might help your nerves, you wanted to maintain a clear head and maybe not do or say something to Pedro that you might regret.

"You got it," he replied, turning on his heel towards the bar.

Once he had left, Sarah gave you a look.

"What?" you laughed.

"You know, he talks about you all the time. I know you already love some other guy based on that hit song of yours, but I gotta say I think he might be smitten with you."

"Oh please, no he isn't. We're just friends!" You smiled at the idea, but inside, you kept hearing the bouncer's words on repeat. There's no way Pedro could have feelings for you. Even if you wanted him to have those feelings more than anything, it couldn't be.

"Whatever you say," she said with a smirk.

A pause before she added "just… don't hurt him. I know you love someone else, but he's a good guy," she pleaded, letting her protective side show.

On his way back from the bar, Pedro ran into Oscar, whom he tagged up with and headed back to your small group. "This is my friend Oscar," said Pedro, introducing you to Oscar as his friend.

Friend. Remember that. Friend. That's all. All you'll ever be.

"Nice to meet you Oscar!" You gave him a cherry smile.

"Nice to finally meet the woman of the hour! Pedro here just won't shut up about you," he said with a smirk, looking at Pedro mischievously. Pedro blushed and looked into his drink cup, taking a sip while trying to hide himself.

"Yep! It's always 'she said this, she said that, can you believe she can do that? She's so smart, funny, sweet…' yada yada yada," he said, smirking again and taking a side glance at Pedro, who choked on his soda. "Shut. Up. Oscar." He quietly threatened through clenched teeth. But despite his quiet tone and a loud party, you heard him.

I mean, I say kind things about my friends that way sometimes. It's nice he's so appreciative of his friends. Because that's what I am. A friend.

Sarah chimes in. "That's what I was telling her! But she claims they're just friends," she air-quotes around the words 'just friends.'

Pedro's heart sank. He knew deep down that's all you were to him, but hearing it second-hand from you still hurt. Just friends… he thought.

"Yeah right," Oscar rolled his eyes, talking to Sarah as if the two of you weren't standing literally right next to them.

"Believe what you want Oscar, but it's true," Pedro answered with a shrug.

Now it was your turn to feel heartbroken. Just friends… you thought.

You cleared your throat, "anyway, I'm going to go get another soda. Can I get anyone anything?" They all answered no, and you headed for the bar.

Deep in your thoughts, you walked over to the bar when a woman slammed into you. She spilled her red, bloody Halloween cocktail drink all down the front of your costume. "Watch where you're going, fat bitch," said the woman, appropriately dressed in a devil costume, her skin-tight red dress barely covering her ass and breasts.

You sighed. At this point you decided to skip the refill and head toward the bathroom to clean up your now wet front. You looked back to see the devil herself headed right towards Pedro's direction. Typical, you thought with an eye roll. She wants him and is mad I was talking to him.

You turned away from that scene and reached the line to the bathroom. It was lengthy, but luckily it was moving fast. Once inside, you finally could let your emotions out a little bit. You wanted to put on a brave face for Pedro and not ruin his evening, but ever since the bouncer made his comments, you couldn't get them out of your head. And now with that woman spilling her drink on you, you had another reason to be upset. You felt undeserving to be here to begin with, and their comments really solidified the imposter syndrome.

Despite wanting so desperately to see Pedro in the flesh, you hadn't even been able to really make eye contact all evening. Your nerves about meeting him were still there, but now you were just upset about the whole night. Even though you wanted to look at him, really see him, you felt like you didn't deserve it; and your nerves warned you not to look or else he'd figure you out.

If he realizes I like him, it's game over. It'll be like that guy I liked before. He'll eventually say it's weird. Weird for me to have a crush on him, weird for me to touch him, weird for the two of us to talk about relationships or sex. It's 'weird' with you.

You really started to hate that word; weird.

Perhaps you were destined to be a single hermit forever. Or maybe just become a nun.

Cleaned up and having let enough tears out for a couple more hours, at least until you could go home and really cry, you walked out of the bathroom. Heading back toward Pedro, you saw a tall, thin, beautiful woman wearing a tight black dress with a slit down the thigh and skeleton makeup on her face.

The woman was standing close to Pedro when you saw her touch his bicep. Slowly running her hand down his forearm, she batted her eyelashes and twirled her hair with her other hand. She said something to him you couldn't hear, but the two of them began to smile, Pedro's eyes growing wide with his grin. He said something to her and they both laughed, him throwing his upper half forward in a classic Pedro laugh.

That's it. I can't do it. I can't be here and see this.

Turning on your heel, you made for the patio door. The crisp air hit your face, urging the tears to fall immediately.

_____

Pedro laughed as the woman, Tricia, held up both hands in defense. "I SWEAR, Pedro. That's what she did. She touched my arm like that, twirled her hair, batted her eyelashes, and said "hey baby. Come here often?"

Pedro laughed, "oh man, that's so cheesy."

"I know!" Tricia laughed, holding her stomach.

Pedro raised an eyebrow. "Okay, you agree it's cheesy, yet I feel like every time I've seen you two together tonight, you're the one that can't keep your hands off of her," he stated with a sassy smirk.

"Alright, you caught me," Tricia replied with a laugh, right as her girlfriend Sam walked up in a matching skeleton costume. Sam handed Tricia a cup of purple liquid and asked what they were laughing about.

"I asked how you two got together," Pedro replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, gosh, I can only imagine how she's spun the story this time!" Sam replied with an eye roll and a quick kiss to Tricia's lips. Seeing the two love-birds kiss made Pedro long to experience that with you.

Where did she go? There's no way she's still getting a drink.

He excused himself and headed towards the bar, but you weren't there. Then he walked towards the bathroom to check the line. Nope.

Finally he looked to the left and saw you, leaning against the balcony which overlooked the city.

He pulled the sliding door open, slipping outside into the cool October night. The patio was mostly empty, apart from a few stragglers on the far side of the rooftop, sitting at the patio furniture underneath a heat lamp. Most of the guests had gone inside when the temperature began to dip. He walked towards you, saying your name to gain your attention, but you didn't turn. Too deep in your thoughts.

"Are you okay? What are you doing out here all alone?" He touched your shoulder gently.

Startled, you tried to quietly sniffle and wipe your wet eyes without him noticing, careful to avoid smudging your mascara.

You turned to face him, planting another fake smile on your face. "Yeah I'm fine, just needed some air, that's all. You?"

"I can tell you're not okay. What's wrong?" He frowned, stepping closer to you and eyeing the red stain on your dress. Confusion laced across his face.

You stepped back a half-step away from his touch. "It's nothing, it just seems it isn't my night I guess… but you look like you're having fun. Get back in there and dance with Sarah and Oscar," you said with a gentle smile. "I think I might head out. Skipper is probably wondering where I am, anyway."

"I'm sorry you're not having a good time. Let me at least give you a ride home," he pleaded with his brown eyes. This was the first time all night you had actually made eye contact with him, finally seeing just how handsome he really was in person.

Yeah. There's no way he'd go for me. That's for sure.

"No, no please, you stay, I'll just get an Uber. It's fine! Thank you for inviting me tonight though, Pedro. That was really sweet of you."

"I'm not letting you take an Uber home when I'm right here."

"No, dont. I don't want you to miss the party…" you added.

"I've partied enough tonight. Come on, I'm taking you home. No arguments," he pressed, puppy dog eyes unwavering in his demand.

Seriously this man could get away with murder the way he looks with those eyes.

"Okay. Fine, if you really don't mind," you finally agreed, not that it was even an option.

He gave a quick explanation to his friends with a brief wave before the two of you headed out the front door. You scowled at the guard as you walked past.

Thanks for ruining my night, asshole.

After receiving his car from the valet, Pedro pulled open the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb inside.

Nobody has ever opened the car door for me before, other than my dad.

What a gentleman...

Just because you were upset didn't mean you weren't zapped with a feeling of adrenaline and love at his chivalrous action. Whoever ends up with him is a lucky person.

You climbed in the passenger seat and he went around the car, entering the driver's side.

Not only did you feel like you ruined the party, but you worry you may have ruined your shot altogether. Why would Pedro want you after you didn't even talk to him your first night out together?

_____

*Pedro's POV*

As he climbed into his seat, buckling up and starting the ignition, he couldn't help but wonder where the night went wrong.

Did I say something to offend her?

He began to replay all the conversations you'd had tonight, trying to figure out when your sadness began and what could have caused it.

The party conversations? The texts? The phone calls?

Nothing came to mind, which worried him even more that he could be so ignorant to have said something hurtful without realizing.

Pedro looked over at you in his passenger seat. You were curled toward the side, arms scrunched toward your body and looking out the window. Silent. Just the occasional sound of a sniffle, or a road direction for him to take toward your house.

He wanted so badly to reach over and touch you. Hold your hand and rub his thumb over your fingers to comfort you in any way possible while driving. Then, he'd pull you into his arms the second you two got out of the car.

But he knew he couldn't. You weren't his to hold.

Was her crush at the party too? Could he have hurt her somehow?

He felt anger flare into his system at whatever could have made you cry. You deserved the world and he wished he could spend every day trying to prove it to you.

_____

*Back to your perspective*

About 20 minutes later, you quietly said "this is me."

Pedro put the car in park, and told you to wait. Confused, you sat, but he ran around the car and opened the door for you.

What. The. Hell. Is he real?

You stood from the car, fluffing down your ruined princess dress. "Thank you Pedro. You really didn't have to give me a ride, I feel bad you went out of your way. I'm sorry if I ruined your night."

"Hey, whoa, don't apologize. There's no way you ruined my night, and don't worry about the ride. I feel better knowing you made it home safely from me than some taxi service," Pedro placed his hand on his heart.

"Well, thank you either way. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person…"

"It was nice meeting you too," he shifted his weight, awkwardly wondering how to proceed.

"You should go. Get back to your party before you miss anything else! I'm sure Oscar and Sarah miss you," you prompted.

"Oh, I'm not going back. I'll just call it a night and head home. It's not as fun without my date, anyway." He smirked, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was flirting with you. Probably just being nice.

"You aren't going back??"

"Nah, I'm good. But…" he rubbed the back of his neck with his palm.

"What?" You felt nervous.

"Can I ask why you're so upset? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's just… if I did something or said something to upset you… I'm so sorry," he said, and you could actually feel the genuine sadness in his voice.

"Oh, Pedro. No. You did nothing wrong. It's just," you sighed. "Do you want to come in?"

You worried about asking and seeming too forward, but now that it's out there it can't be taken back.

Friends go over to other friend's houses. It's totally fine and normal.

"I, uh, sure," Pedro stumbled over his words. "I'd love to. If you don't mind." He seemed nervous and a little surprised at your invitation.

You unlocked your door and the two of you entered. Instantly, you were greeted by your boy, who was all too happy to have a new friend. His tail wagged, smacking against nearby surfaces.

Pedro's face lit up instantly, and he crouched down to Skip's level. Letting Skipper get a good sniff, you heard Pedro gently coo to your dog. "Hi buddy!! I'm Pedro. I've heard so much about you." He scratched behind his ears.

Your heart swelled. Here they were, two of your favorite boys, bonding like old friends.

Pedro stood up again, giving a final scratch to Skipper's head before turning to you. "So, do you want to talk about it? What happened tonight?"

You ushered him to the kitchen table, asking him if he would like a drink. "Sure, thanks. Just water, please."

You poured two glasses of water and sat at the table near him, finally delving into the events of the evening. You told him about the bouncer and the woman with her drink. "I also saw that one girl talking to you and being really touchy and flirty and I felt like I was intruding."

I was also really fucking jealous…

"Wait, what girl?"

He repeated the evening's events through his mind. He wasn't flirting or being touchy? Who were you - Oh. Tricia, when she was describing Sam. Were you jealous of her? He allowed his mind to wonder, slightly hopeful that you might want more.

"I guess I just… I don't really feel like I fit in here. I don't look like I fit in here. I don't act like I fit in here. I honestly don't even know why you're as nice to me as you are. I wonder why you want to be my friend. Not that I'm not happy about it, because I am, but-"

He cut off your ramblings. "Whoa, whoa, hey. Sweetheart. You belong here. People just don't know you yet. That bouncer was totally out of line and a complete asshole. That woman, who spilled her drink on you, was rude, offensive, and nasty; and I don't tolerate that kind of behavior. Especially towards those I care about. The second she came over, I could tell she was a snake. I didn't give her the time of day. And lastly, the girl you saw being touchy was my friend Tricia. She was describing how her girlfriend picked her up in a bar," he laughed.

"Oh," you listened to his words, still not making eye contact, looking at your hands on the table.

"And as for you," he prompted, "I'm nice to you because you deserve it. You're sweet and funny, and I'm so thankful to have met you. I talk to you because I like talking to you. I enjoy spending time with you, whether it's on the phone, or, even better, when I get to see your face. Although I have to say I hate to see it crying." He brushed away a tear from your cheek, and you gave a small laugh, wiping the rest of your face.

"Thanks Pedro. I'm sorry if I brought down your night. I just really wanted tonight to be special, and it felt like my carriage turned back into a pumpkin before I even started." You gave another defeated laugh.

"You didn't ruin my night. If anything I'm just disappointed you didn't say anything, so I could help cheer you up or we could go do something else." He paused, brushing your hair from your eyes. "By the way, I never did get to tell you how beautiful you look in that dress, princesa."

Your cheeks heated under his gaze. "T-thanks Pedro. You look pretty handsome there, yourself," you answered nervously. It was the first time you had truly looked at him all night, and he was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. Even pictures didn't do him justice. Dressed in a white suit with golden epaulets and golden buttons on the jacket, he was the most charming prince you'd ever seen.

Pedro rubbed his neck. "Thank you." He smiled. "But, hey, just because the night didn't go your way doesn't mean we can't turn it around."

You smirked. "That's true. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? Because if so, I think I might change out of this costume real quick," you began to stand.

"Whoa, not so fast princesa," he grabbed your arm.

You turned and gave him a confused look.

"Not before I share a dance with you in that dress. I've been waiting all night," he held out his hand.

"Really?" The grin on your face lit up, and you pulled him towards your music room where you stored your records.

"Wow. This is amazing. You have so many records and instruments in here! Is this where you write your music, too?"

"Yep! Here's where the magic happens," you answered with a laugh, pulling out an old record filled with slow love songs of the 50's and 60's. You placed the needle on the record, hearing a soft crackle as it began to play.

Pedro pulled you into his chest, grabbing your right hand with his left and gently placing his right hand on your waist. You slid your left hand up to his shoulder and smiled up at him as the two of you gently swayed to the music.

One song turned into two. Then three, and finally four; the two of you holding each other, silent except for the soft music turning from your record player on the desk. At some point you took the risk and decided to rest your face on his chest while the two of you swayed. His head rested on top of yours, both of you breathing softly, eyes closed, with you listening to the rhythmic drumming of his heart in his chest.

The record crackled with the end of the first side and the two of you looked at each other. You didn't miss the quick glance he stole from your eyes down to your lips, and you began to slowly lean closer.

Is this it?! Am I finally going to have my first kiss?!

You continued leaning closer, both his and your eyes gently closing. You could feel his breath fanning across your nose when-

Clunk clunk clunk. Pant pant. Whine.

You and Pedro opened your eyes, confusion painting your expressions as you turned your faces away from each other towards the sound. Still held in each other's arms, you peeled your eyes away from each other to see Skipper looking at you both with a big doggy grin on his face. His tail smacked the table with a thump thump, and he let out soft little whines and coos for attention.

The two of you laughed, the moment over, as you both kneeled down to give pets while Skip wedged between the two of you. Although you were disappointed the kiss was interrupted, you can't be mad at such a cute face. Still scratching your dog, you looked across to Pedro on the other side of Skipper. The two of you shared a soft look and smile, filled with so many unsaid words and feelings.

"So, uh.. how about that movie?" Pedro asked, still smiling.

______

You changed out of your princess costume into a comfier movie watching outfit and he changed out of his prince costume. He had some clothes in his car, which he changed into, looking handsome as ever. He wore a navy blue sweater with jeans, both fitting him perfectly. The two of you settled on your couch and turned on a movie. Although you sat next to each other, you kept a friendly distance, neither of you wanting to push the other too far.

As the movie rolled on, you had a hard time focusing on the plot with him so close. He looked so cozy and soft, you just wanted to climb in his lap. You wanted him to hold your hand. You wanted to finish that kiss. He smelled nice, he looked nice, and you wanted him more than anything else in this world.

Without realizing it, you gravitated closer. Your body inched toward him, and without him realizing it, he inched closer as well. It wasn't long until your leg was brushed against his. Just the slight touch of his leg on yours was enough to send an electric feeling pulsing through your body. The tension was as tight as an electrical cable, slowly fraying until it eventually snaps into sparks.

Pedro's fingers twitched at his side, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Your eyes kept sneakily darting over to him, his doing the same at opposite times. Your hearts were racing, breathing quick and shallow. The movie finally ended, neither of you able to tell someone the storyline if asked.

You nervously turned towards Pedro, rubbing the back of your neck. "So that was some movie…"

"Yeah, that ending… it was-" his eyes darted to your lips. "Something." He looked into your eyes, hand settling on your thigh as the two of you once again began to lean in closer. You had just shut your eyes, noses brushing together, when he pulled away.

What the heeeeeeeellllll??? Whyyyy!?

You couldn't help but let out a whimper as you opened your eyes after the second failed kiss of the evening.

Pedro sat with his elbows on his lap, holding his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry…"

"What? Pedro? Why are you sorry? What's wrong? Did I - did I do something wrong?"

Do I smell bad? Does he not like me? Was this some sick joke?

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry. I let my feelings get in the way, and I shouldn't have done that. You're in love with someone else. I can't steal your first kiss. You deserve to have it with the man you really love."

"Pedro-" you tried to pry his hand from his face.

"No. I'm sorry if I ruined things. I should probably leave-" he began to stand up, but you grabbed his forearm and pulled him back down.

"Stop. Pedro," you begged.

He sat back down, looking into your eyes guiltily.

You continued. "Please don't apologize. I wanted you to kiss me…"

"But that guy in your song. You deserve to be with him. I've been letting my feelings take over and stealing all your time away on the phone and text, video chat, and now in person. I almost stole your first kiss from you twice tonight and-" he rambled on, once again throwing his hands over his face before you interrupted him again.

"Pedro.." you pulled his hand away from his face, leaving yours to hold his cheek instead, but he still avoided your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you figured it was time to take the plunge.

"It's you, Pedro."

His eyes glanced up to yours. "What?"

"It's you. It's always been you. You're the one I like."

"Wait, so you mean-"

"Yes. The songs, the interviews, our chats… I've been talking about you this whole time. I really, really, like you."

Pedro gave a gentle smile, leaning his face into your hand. "I like you too, baby," he whispered.

His hand moved from his cheek to yours and the two of you leaned in. Closing your eyes, you brushed your noses together before you whispered "please kiss me.

You could feel a soft smile as he pressed his lips to yours, first gentle and soft, then stronger and more desperate. Although the kiss was still very tame, you could both feel all the emotions you've been harboring for each other for so long.

Breathless, the two of you pulled back, falling into a gentle laughter. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for that kiss," you spoke softly, wanting to keep the words as quiet as possible, heard only within the tiny bubble you currently shared.

"Me too," he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"I think you were worth the wait," you pecked his lips.

"I think you were too," he rested his head on your forehead with his hand on your neck, lightly stroking over your hair.

"I like you." You giggled.

"I like you too." He grinned. "But, you know, if I remember correctly, 'like' wasn't the word you used in your song…" he teased.

Your stomach flipped. "I don't want to scare you off too soon, P."

"You won't, sweetheart. You couldn't if you tried. I feel the same way." He kissed your forehead.

You looked at him, and feeling slightly nervous, yet calmed by his deep brown eyes, you told him those important words that have been spilling from your chest in silence.

"I love you Pedro."

"I love you too," he grabbed your face, once again pressing a kiss to your lips, this one much deeper than the others, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you were finally together. Finally you had love. All the things you wanted were coming true.

Turns out you got your happily ever after tonight after all.

__________

To be continued...

That's all for now! I hope you liked this chapter. I've received a lot of kind messages and DMs saying how much you guys relate to the reader and I just want to say thank you. It really means a lot to me that people are finding something to relate to. I'm essentially just using this fic as my diary, because she is pretty much just me. So to see others feeling the same way, it makes my heart so full! I send hugs to all of you.

Next Chapter! Here!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!) If I forget to add anyone, I'm sorry!

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #pedro pascal x y/n #key to your heart

[reptilian-angel]

The Cafe' Prince & The Killer Cook Pt. 1:

Chapter One - "Egg on your Face" Mega-Omelet

ME: Blitzø, having suffered a the worst day of his life, finds an unexpected silver lining when he awakens inside some random cafe hosted by a sweet (if oddly articulate) little girl, Via and her chef daddy, Stolas (Who looks like Hell on Wheels and cooks just as good, but who gave a shit.)

Later on after this chance encounter, a completely unanticipated offer might just be what Blitzø needs to turn his trashfire of an existence into a lifetime of amazing food, exciting moments and maybe even . . . Love?

Stolitz fluff, food chain puns, good food and healthy doses of angst await you at the Stars & Stir-Ups Cafe’!!! (Yet to be named)

Inspired by Pink Lomito’s ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE Stolitz Cafe’ AU fanart and written with their blessing, so I can only hope this will live up to the hype! (Displayed Below)

Full disclosure, I DO bake as a hobby, but I am NOT a career baker so most of descriptions of any foods mentioned, cooking and otherwise, will totally be written by an author completely in the dark, so please be gentle with any criticisms regarding any of the cooking displayed here. (Also see the end of the chapters for the recipes used, or at least the closest comparisions.)

Get Your knives and forks ready, you sinners & saints, and please enjoy!! I owe nothing!!!

Normal P.O.V.

When Blitzø woke up, he was automatically confused.

He had expected to be face flat, ass up on the shitty, grime covered flour of the bar he had trudged into last night like he had only hours to live. It had been a record-breaking shitty-ass day for him and he decided, like the many, many bitchy broke losers out there who had had their dreams squashed and trampled on like gnats in Hell, to drown his sorrows. Burning $ouls like tissue paper, he had began going for broke, mooching off other patrons and drunkards, earning petty shots in impromptu contests and maybe even performed a small strip tease for a gaggle of succubi and incubi.

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure how it ended, although he did have a vague recollection of plowing his dick into one of the incubi in one of the nasty as fuck bathroom stalls and wondering if the greasy pump soap could be used as lube before fading to black.

Christ on a Pogo stick he had REALLY gotten fucked up, didn’t he?

That said, he wouldn’t have been shocked in the slightest if he had found himself upside down, half- naked and definitely robbed of his wallet and phone in some shady alley at the crack of dawn. Yeah, that would have been normal for him.

Waking up in a plush, fancy-pants booth with a soft, comfortable quilt thrown on top of him was not.

He began leaning up to try and get some sense of where the fuck he was, but everything between his ears immediately started to bitch at him with an acute, relentless thrum that felt even worse than the headaches Moxxie gave him while bitching at him. On a good day.

He gave a low groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in a sorry attempt to dull the throb. He swore everything was hurting, his horns were hurting, his scars were hurting, fuck, even his brand was hurting -

“Fudge.”

That innocent correction almost made him tumble out of the booth. He barely smacked his palms against the floor to keep him from actually falling face flat on its surface. Points for highly trained trapeze instincts. Centering himself, he found a pair of big, bright pink, and admittingly cute eyes of a little owl demon looking right at his.

Even with him being upside-down, he could tell they were a girl; maybe four or six, with a messy nest of long dark hair let loose save a small ponytail tied up on the side of her head with a scrunchie covered with moons and stars and a simple pink jumper with white stars of various sizes printed all over it.

It had taken a second for his hungover brain to figure out she was an owl, the white heart-shaped frame of her face like that of an owl’s a dead giveaway. The way she blinked at him only cemented that conclusion. She blinked calmly at him, despite how fucking weird he was sure he must’ve looked as a middle-aged, hungover, hot mess sleeping in what he just know fully realized was a restaurant booth.

Feeling caught off guard for a number of reasons, he could only respond with, “Sorry?”

The Little owl gave him a reproaching look, or at least as close to one as a toddler could manage. “‘Fudge’. You said it wrong.” She stated in all seriousness. “You’re supposed to say ‘fudge’ when you say the ‘F’ Word. Otherwise, it’s not polite.”

“Says who?” He asked.

“Says my daddy.” She said proudly as if she was referring to Lucifer himself. “He says ‘Politeness is the-” She paused, her face scrunching up in concentration, “- ‘Per-Ah-Get-Ive’ of sensible young demons’.”

He gave her a small smirk. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“What’s what?”

“Whatcha just said – Know what it means?”

He had expected her to respond with a "yes" as all little hellspawn do to prove they were just as smart as their parents who most of the time are dumber than the garbage man, and of course be all snooty and snobby about it too.

But, amazingly, she shook her head so much her hair flew in both directions. "Nope! But my daddy taught me that word. Which means it must be a smart grown-up thing to say. My daddy's all grown up and smart so it makes sense to try and apply it to my everyday 'Wing-guess-tics'."

"Uh, 'wing-guess-tics'?" He repeated with a smile.

The little owl nodded. "You know, the way you talk and how you sound to other people. Don't you ever take pride in how you sound towards others less proud of themselves?"

Blitzø sure as hell didn't. In fact, good mood or bad, he couldn't give two shits in a Gluttony Ring brand crapper what every other piece of shit thought about him or the way he talked. Which is exactly what he should tell to this innocent, sassy, too precious for words little oh satan's taint, he was too hungover for this.

Getting up at an old man's pace, he grunted, "I don't really have an answer to that, ow."

Okay, sitting up straight didn't quite stop the ache, but it wasn't harping so badly now.

The little owl made a sad sound. "That's too bad. Everything needs an answer."

"Does it?" He asked while once again pressing into his eyes to try and settle his headache. She gave an affirmative hum.

"They do. Sometimes."

Blitzø gave up trying to squeeze his eyeballs back into his brains and gave a slow roll of his neck, breathing with the small audible stream of cracks that followed. "Yeah, well, sometimes is better than no times I guess." Once his neck didn't feel so stiff, he looked down at the little owl who still was blinking up at him. "Hey kiddo?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, uh . . . Can you tell me where we are right now?" Geez, Blitzø, you need a little kid to tell your dumb, hungover ass where you crashed? Talk about hitting rock bottom.

She giggled like he had just told a funny joke. He admitted, even with a headache, the sound was nice to hear. "You're in our cafe, sir. Mine and Daddy's cafe. You've been here ever since last night."

He felt embarrassment collide with exasperation in a wave that only incensed the pounding in his skull. Grreeeaaat. Now he had to deal with a bitchy dad that could probably make a Karen more bearable. And considering his crappy luck, he could probably give Moxxie a run for his money when it came to whining and botching. Like he didn't have enough of a migraine already.

To distract himself from the imminent ass-chewing, Blitzø decided it was a good time as any to take a quick peek around. In case, things went tits up, he should know how much he could tag with horses and dongs later.

Look all over, he had to admit . . . He was pleasantly surprised.

The cafe was definitely a little ritzier than almost every other diner or bistro in Pride, at least the ones run by imps or sinners. It wasn't an 'in-your-face-so-suck-it-bitches' bourgeois nightmare that you found on the cover of rich people magazines, but it was still easy to smell the $oils that had been burned to buy the number of furniture and appliances that filled it. Pristine designer steel tables, floors tiles so clean you could eat off of them, cushy warm booths like the one he was sitting in that felt comfy enough to be small bed; yeah, this place made the local Hellbucks look like a gas station men's room (Which was also, coincidentally, one of the many places he would periodically wind up in after a bender).

He could probably make off with one of the tablecloths - Made with actual fucking linen, not rag or crappy burlap - And the money he would get for it would easily pay off his non-existent mortgage.

The walls, covered in perfectly intact, shiny wallpaper that was neither covered in mildew nor aged and peeling, colored the interior with a tasteful cream and vanilla striped pattern. Each dark strip of cream had subtle motifs of shooting stars, little crescent moons and cheery spiraling suns. The cushions seated on each chair and the fabrics of the booths were royal blue and spotted with muted violet stars, all differing sizes, each cleaner than the back seat of an Imp City taxi cab. Plus, no springs popping up to try and fuck him in his little red hole.

He then noticed the bar. A quaint but spacious counter as long as Blitzø's body and tail combined, a simple but pricey cash register at one end, with matching leather stools lined up perfectly beneath it. A large glass case half the size of his van sat at the other end, the inside holding shelves of numerous plates of decadent-looking desserts and pastries that drew an expectant grumble from his stomach.

It wasn't his fault, the last thing Blitzø remembered having that was even close to food was some outdated peanuts and the olives he wiped from some douche who had ordered nothing but martinis that were drier than Wraith in a heatwave.

And he normally hated olives, Christ, he must've been fucked up to devour those things, pit and all. Fuck, did I bang the guy who ordered then too?

Okay, not the priority right now, Blitzø. Especially with the cute little kid in front of you whose dad is definitely gonna throw you out on your ass the minute he sees you -

"Oh! Daddy's awake! Good morning, daddy!"

Fuck.

Blitzø jerked his head up at her cheerful greeting, opening his mouth if only to curse at how his head throbbed in response -

— Only for it to immediately die when he caught sight of "Daddy" coming into the cafe'.

Fuck him twice.

The demon that had stepped into his view was, hands down and pants down if his belt was loosened, one of the most gorgeous demons he had seen.

And the tallest, Jesus Christ.

The owl demon was as tall as a tree, with legs for days ending in jet black talons that clicked delicately against the immaculately clean tiles as he strode over. His body was much, much thinner than Blitzø had expected, delicate and lithe with sinfully svelte curves around his well-rounded hips that he felt an instant, barely concealed urge to wrap his legs around and squeeze. His upper body was just as long, lengthy frail arms that grew like willow branches from his shoulders with dainty but large hands and fingers that reminded him of spider legs as they moved and were just as dark as his feet. They were probably as soft as that little fluff of feathers that peeked out on his chest.

Looking at his face, he was slightly taken aback at the sight of not one but two pairs of eyes peering back, although the second pair were smaller and placed higher on his forehead, just as wide and bright as Via's, but instead of pink they shone with crimson and were as opaque as a ruby. It was obvious who this little girl got her looks from the most; the same dark spot at the tip of his beak, and the same shade of grey blue feathers, only his grew darker in hue as they climbed up his very lean throat, combed into a neat and very trim style that clearly was given a lot of attention. The only blemish to it would be the bold streak of grey that cut through the feathers which easily gave away his age, but somehow that had actually improved his looks as it contrasted the young (and pretty) features of his face.

His outfit wasn’t too extraordinary but still, Blitzø felt himself growing warm at the sight of the white button up dress shirt and the open cranberry pink waistcoat the owl was currently snapping shut dexterously and simple dark slacks that hugged his legs perfectly.

Fuck. I was once woken up with V wearing lingerie that was made pretty much just string but this guy is dressed like a fucking waiter and I wanna lay him flat on the counter.

Blitzø was suddenly that much more thankful for the blanket covering his lap, because he was sure feeling the telltale signs of a growing boner.

Oh well, he was sure it would go away once this guy started to whine about having to deal with a drunken piece of shit first thing in the morning -

The tall owl, even with the slightest of sleep still clinging to it, smiled warmly and brightly at his daughter. “Good morning, my Owlette.” Blitzø felt himself once again be knocked off guard by his chocolaty, silky tenor voice, the sound of it sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Fuckhim three times, he sounded hot too. Satan, this sucked.

The owl’s pleasant chuckle only added to Blitzø;s horny chagrin. “I see you beat me down to the cafe’ today. I hope you slept well, my Starfire.”

The little “Starfire” nodded happily. “I slept good, Daddy! And so did our guest!” She gestured innocently at the imp, who then tensed at being put on the spot by a kid. “When I came down to check on him, he was snoozing like a kitten!”

Blitzø, of course, made a face. A kitten?

It went unnoticed by the little owl, but not by her father who gave her a stern, but still soft look. “Via,” He started. “You didn’t disturb our guest while he was sleeping, did you?”

“Via” quickly shook her head, he feathers swinging side to side in a flurry. “Mh-mm! No, Daddy, I promise I didn’t! I was real quiet until he woke up and said the bad thing wrong.”

He blinked at her. “The ‘bad’ word?”

“One of the words that Mummy used to -” He explanation was abruptly cut off by her father’s wincing and his hands waving the universal sign for stop. “O-oh, alright, alright, sweetie, I understand, no need to go further!”

Blitzø watched them quietly.

Huh. So pretty boy had post-marital troubles with the little former wifey, huh?

Yeah, that made sense. Aside from his friend’s, Blitzø had yet to see any marriage that wasn’t one step away to instating the “death do us part” vow.

This guy must have gotten out while the getting was still good. But not without a few licks dealt, judging by the signs of wariness on his face.

He mentally sighed. Alright the hottie daddy knows you’re here and first impression has clearly gone to shit so, get ready for take two, dumbass.

Blitzø, deciding that jokes was the way to go in a pinch, then said casually. “I guess ‘Mummy’ wasn’t a ‘fudge’ kinda girl.” He then put on his best smile as he looked straight on at the pretty owl. “Me, personally, always liked the mine with plenty of nuts.”

As smooth as it sounded, he still cringed on the inside. Oof, Blitzø, how lame do you sound right now?

However, to Blitzø’s surprise and relief, the innuendo did not go unnoticed by the only other adult in the cafe’. Both sets of eyes went wide and the haggardness on his face was instantly washed away with a swift, prominent pink flush that Blitzø definitely liked seeing. Next to Via, it was probably the cutest thing he saw this morning. It certainly took the edge off the ass-chewing he was sure to get.

Usually, anytime he cracked any sex jokes around others, he was almost immediately told off by whatever prude or asshole or Karen was in the vicinity (i.e. Moxxie) and who clearly had no sense of good humor. (Like they didn’t start humping on each other’s earlobes the second every one’s back was turned like the hypocrites they were.)

Anybody else who didn’t was either not giving two shits or just as eager to talk dirty after a line up of shots.

But this bird seem reasonably sober. But then again, judging by his frame, he was probably the type of demon to go for light drinks like martinis or cocktails rather than tequila or beezlejuice. Considering the little girl now running up to him and hugging his shins, it was more than likely. He had the bitter experience of always dealing with a parent more often found nursing a hangover rather than an infant and it was an all around shitty experience he had no wish to repeat.

However, right now, he wouldn’t mind getting another peek of that cute ass blush as the bird briefly ducked down to scoop up into his arms. “W-well,” He started, “It’s certainly good to see you awake, Mister . . . ?”

“Name’s Blitzø. The “O” is silent.” Blitzø stated without missing a beat.

The owl blinked. “What ‘o’?”

“Exactly.” Blitzø nodded without thinking and once again, groaned in pain as everything from the neck up throbbed.

“Oh dear, hangover not quite remedied yet?”

Blitzø hissed out a breath. “Yeah, that’s a big fat fff-fudgin’ no.” He smirked weakly at Via’s approving nod. “I feel like I decided to go dumpster-diving outside the nearest Sinnabon’s for a midnight snack-run.” His empty stomach than made itself known by giving an impatient grumble. “And it looks like I’m up for round two so I think it’s about time I get outta here.”

The owl blinked again. “I’m sorry?”

Blitzø carefully climbed out of his improvised bed and unsure of what to do, opted to take apart the bedding and fold it as neatly as he could. “Yeah, I know, I know, I should’ve been out of here hours ago, I get it. Satan knows no-one wants to deal with a hungover dumb-a first thing in the morning. I know I wouldn’t, plus you gotta kid here and I can’t imagine you want some strange weirdo around your baby-girl so I better clear out before -”

The quilt literally rising out of his hands cut him off like a record scratch. The fuck-?

He watched cow-eyed as some kind of blue sparkly whatsit energy surrounded the quilt and untangled the lump he had been making a mess out of. It than began folding itself in a much more professional fashion than his was and as soon as it finished, it levitated right over his head and towards the guys who, judging by the ethereal sheen wrapped around his talons, was making it.

“Mr. Blitzø,” He started calmly. “As the owner of a cafe’, I have often had ‘strange weirdos’ coming in and going out from here every day. Thankfully, most of them are courteous enough to show up around working hours, but I am no stranger to any who who wander in from the late-night crowd, which I’m assuming is where you come from.” His tone wasn’t accusing but Blitzø still frowned at the teasing lilt he definitely heard.

“As for my little Starfire,” The bird continued, nuzzling his daughter on the cheek which earned a giggle. “Via, I like to think at least, is an excellent judge of character, especially more so with strangers. So, if she thinks that you’re trustworthy then that’s more than enough reason to let you stay.” With a twirl of his talon, he sent the quilt through the door leading upstairs to, whatever the fuck it led to as he set Via down on one of the stools after a quick, dramatic spin that earned him another giggle. “At least, long enough for us to feed you a decent breakfast.”

That last bit was definitely NOT what Blitzø thought he’d hear. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Oh certainly, after you’ve been given food of actual substance to eat instead of the leftover, surely bacteria-ridden remains scrounged from a random dumpster.” The big bastard responded blithely as he made his way around the counter, to where Blitzø finally noticed the fancy-looking coffeemaker that made him feel more broke-ass than he already was. “But first, I believe refreshments are in order. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

The asshole part of him wanted to deliver a pissy comeback at the offer. He was a grown-ass man, more than capable of getting his own food, fuck you very much and no trust-fund, (sexy) long-legged prick had the right to tell him what was okay for him to eat or not – Moxxie already got his ass enough about that, he didn’t need anyone else doing that shit.

Big bitch was probably trying to keep him here long enough to call the cops on him the minute his back was turned so he could stick him with some BS robbery charges just for shits and giggles. Which had happened to him before due to more than one nut-job Karen and/or Kevin.

And of course, since it was fucking Hell, there was only a certain amount of times that you could get arrested and get bailed out before the taxpayers think to simply say “Fuck it” and just take your money and never bother to find your cell keys.

That in mind, he was so not in the mood to bust out of prison again, that one stint in Greed was enough for the next five years.

Well, fuck this bird. The front door was right there and he was not gonna have to put up with whatever bullshit this guy was -

His stomach halted his would-be flipping-the-bird-at-the-bird-on-the-way-out escape with a rumble even louder and more impatient than before. The tell-tale smell of brewing coffee didn’t do anything to help quell it. And damn, did it smell good . . .

. . . . . . Oh, forget it, they dump that dumpster every other day and he was too hungover to spare the effort to drive. Or Look for his van. Or try to remember the name of the club he was at.

“. . . I usually have iced coffee. But right now, I’ll take a regular coffee, as black as blood.”

That request was responded to with a humored smile. “I myself usually take it black as sin, but I’m always up for a challenge.” Turning to the way too complicated than should be normal looking, coffee-making monstrosity, he also added, “Also, forgive me.”

“For what?” Blitzø asked as he came closer to the bar. This close, he could now spot a simplistic yet obviously custom-designed hotplate big enough to fit enough food for five people, flat black surface on one side and a classic stove-top on the other.

“For not introducing myself properly earlier.” A clean, see-through glass coffee pot that Blitzø didn’t even see him pull out appeared in his hand as he whipped out a coffee filter so finely made it looked more like a hankie, bypassing the coffee maker completely. “I’m Stolas, owner of this cafe’ as well as Chef and Barista. You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting my daughter, Octavia, my darling little helper.”

“Daddy says I’m his ‘Suzy Chef’!” Via, also now known as “Octavia”, chirped proudly. Before Blitzø took a seat on one of the stools, he moved as to help her up but she shook her head. Gripping the crank under the seat, she pulled it up and down like a desk chair’s until the seat was low enough for her to climb up. He watched in bemusement as she then adjusted the seat back up. Clearly, they were built with the varying heights of Hell’s diverse demographic in mind.

Not bad thinking, Blitzø had to admit.

“Indeed you are, my Owlette.” Stolas chuckled. Having placed the filter inside a clenex wrapped around a chic-looking coffee pot, he placed a silver carafe onto the stove-top side of the hotplate and flipping the switch. Taking out a bag of coffee grounds that smelled fucking fantastic. “She and I have been running this little cafe’ for about four months now. And if I may so, we’re doing rather well. Granted, we’re not millionaires but I’m certainly not complaining.”

In almost no time at all, the carafe’ started whistling sharply. Stolas took it off and replaced it with a small skillet that Blitzø didn’t see being pulled out either, only to stare unabashedly at the medley of cheeses, meats, veggies and eggs that literally flew in from the entry to what he guessed was the kitchen like it was something of out of a kid’s movie. He knew Via giggling at his face but he forgoed responding to that, as while Stolas attended to the coffee pot, a bottle of oil floated over to the skillet and poured a delicate amount inside with two slices of butter following suite. “. . . Uh, yeah, if you’re good at something, you should capitalize.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not really so much about the money as it is the business of cooking itself.” Stolas said earnestly as he dumped the grounds into the filter and sweeped up the carafe to pour in the hot water in one fluid motion. “I find that this line of work gives me much more gratification than that of my previous occupation.”

“Oh, what was that? Real estate spokesman? Attorney? Phone seee-” Blitzø was instantly reminded of Via’s presence as the little girl hummed happily while folding and unfolding a napkin she plucked from the napkin holder closest to them. “-eeecrecy operator?”

If Stolas noticed the near slip-up, he didn’t comment on it. “No, I’m afraid. Simply one of the cogs of the crumbling, over-heated machine that is known as Hell’s government.” While the skillet started to pop and sizzle, the owl than summoned a sizable knife to finely chop one onion to join the oil and butter. As the coffee grounds were left to bloom, Stolas made quite a show of crumbling up a thick sausage into bits with one hand while simultaneously conjuring an actual clutch of flames in the other hand, selecting a few strips of bacon to cook and crisp in a matter of seconds. Most likely to show off for Blitzø and his daughter who “oohed” at the sight.

Admittedly, Blitzø was a little impressed too, but he’d be fucked by a mime before he ever let on. “Geez, playin’ it up a bit, don’t ya think?”

“Perhaps a bit.” Stolas admitted, not so sorry in the slightest. “But compared to how stoic and quiet I had used to be, I relish any chance to ‘play it up’.” Having deemed the bacon thoroughly cooked, which it definitely was going by the smell, he extinguished the flames and set the crispy strips onto a cutting board for a magicked knife to chop up. Washing his hands in a small sink set by the hotplate, he gestured towards the enchanted parade of flying ingredients, allowing three eggs to gently land on the counter.

Blitzø, at this point, had taken his eyes away from the free magic show in front of him, cool as it was, to quietly observe Stolas’s shapely ass as he bent over to retrieve something from one of the lower cabinet.

Hmm. He could feel the tip of his tail flicking in appreciation. Guess the cake wasn’t only in good in the cases.

He tried to keep ogling as unnoticeable as possible as he asked. “Old job sucked that bad, huh?”

“Oh, abominably so.” Stolas groaned as he fished around in the cabinet obliviously. Eventually, he made a small sound of triumph as he located his prize; a small mixing bowl which he then set on the counter next to the eggs. A crooked finger brought a whisk right into his hand just as all three eggs were lifted and cracked into the bowl and the shells were tossed away. “And all I can say is that I’m bloody well glad that it’s behind me.”

“And now Daddy gets to be the bestest chef in all of Hell!” Via proclaimed, which was rewarded with a loving smile.

“Well, I certainly try my best.” He said cheerfully. He made sure to keep close attention to the carafe’ as it poured more water into the now ready coffee grounds as he beat the eggs thoroughly. As dark, fresh coffee began to drip into the pot, he set the bowl aside to neatly dish the sausage and bacon into the skillet. “I don’t know if anything I make will win any awards, but I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t. As long as I have my Via and this cafe’, I’ll be happy.”

Those words, despite himself, left a deep pit in Blitzø’s stomach.

He was all too familiar with the feeling to know that it wasn’t hunger.

And the cause of it was the warm translucent air wafting around in the little cafe’ that was more potent than the coffee.

And more pointedly, how out of place he felt to even be watching it.

He felt his claws clench the leather of his seat, the fabric creaking softly in response to his tightening grip. The pit felt like it was growing larger, making his shoulders tense. He found himself staring full-on at the clean surface of the bartop and tried to ignore the itch of his spines going erect. For the next few minutes, all that was heard was the sizzling and firecracker-like popping of the skillet as the eggs were poured in, the repetitive sound of coffee dripping and Via humming as she tried to fold her napkin into something other than a lopsided square.

Blitzø took a deep breath through his nose, his lips sputtering a bit like a horse’s (Didn’t he wish) as he exhaled.

“. . . Look, I’m . . . ” He paused a moment to think his words over carefully. The last thing he felt like doing right now was to sound an utter dickhead to the guy who was making him a hot meal for a total stranger.

No telling if he was the type to spit in on the plates of assholes who deserved it.

“. . . I’m sorry for, uhm, for having you make deal with me first thing in the morning.” He managed to get out rather lamely.

He wasn’t sure if the bird heard him. But that didn’t stop him from continuing. “I . . . I had a really, really real sh- crappy day yesterday, and – And I just needed to blow off a little steam.”

Images started to flash unbidden in his head. Of zeroes, of bottles, of bitter looks and smashed frames only made everything in Blitzø had been able to blissfully ignore up until that moment, then chose to rear its ugly head making him let out a barely concealed grunt. “. . . Point is, I-I’m sorry for screwing up your day and -”

He was interrupted by a good-sized mug being set calmly before him. He started as the smell of the dark roast curling in soft puffs and into his nostrils, the scent heavenly and already mending the throb of his head – only to be taken aback at the feel of a large, plush-soft hand petting the space between his horns in a comforting rub.

It took every single inch of Blitzø not to either smack the hand away or bite it off on sheer impulse.

He looked up and instead of what he thought for damn sure was going to be a patronizing sneer, – Because how else would any prick look after patting an imp’s head like a puppy’s? - Stolas’s face was as soft and reassuring as the smile on his beak.

A smile filled with nothing but understanding and warmth.

Sweet Lucifer, when was the last tim anyone had smiled at him like that?

“No apologies are need here, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas said simply. No hint of bullshit. “Nothing’s been broken, nothing’s been ruined. So please, don’t worry. I’m not a demon so easily rattled. Especially by lovely surprises such as yourself.”

. . . . Blitzø blamed the warmth he felt tingling on his cheeks on the steam coming from the mug.

Stolas didn’t comment on it, but he was sure that he heard some not very subtle amusement in his voice as he turned back to his cooking. “Would you like for me to add some peppers to dish? They were freshly picked this morning and I’m sure that they’ll taste wonderfully with the eggs.”

“UH-” Blitzø grabbed the mug and pretended to study it to keep himself from doing anything else dumb. “Y-yeah, sure, whatever, go nuts. I’m good with whatever.”

“Marvelous! I’ll add some as soon as the eggs have cooked for a bit.” Stolas said cheerfully. Blitzø muttered a “yeah, whatever” to his back as the owl reached from some green and red peppers big enough for Via to hold in both of her hands. He then made a small hoot that Blitzø, even with how off-kilter he felt at the moment, found cute. “Oh, and let me know how the coffee is, please. I’m trying a new blend I finally managed to put together a few days ago and I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Blitzø blinked at that. “Wha-? You mean this isn’t instant?”

Stolas shook his head. “Oh no. I try my best to use fresh items whenever I cook. Not that I have anything against instant or frozen food, but, as a chef, I find it almost like cheating if I’m not as authentic for my customers. The last thing I want is to have our cafe’ be mistaken for another Twink Trip or Hexxan.”

Blitzø would have taken a shot at that remark. Namely how if you loaded up gas station coffee with a fuckton of sugar, cream, and booze, it didn’t matter about the quality ‘cause who would give that much of a damn about dirty bean water -

That is, had he not taken a sip out of his mug.

It took a moment of peering down at his “coffee” to think up a much more direct response. “. . . . This is the best damn cup of coffee I ever had.”

“Thank you!” Stolas accepted the compliment cheerily. I admit it took much longer to properly cultivate and grow the beans for it than I had originally anticipated. I mean, I already knew the process was intricate but it’s a whole other experience when you actually attempt it yourself.” Stolas gave a weak chuckle as he prodded at the eggs simmering in the skillet. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I almost blew up my grinder or ruined my insides.”

Blitzø, taking a much larger sip of his coffee hummed appreciatively. “Yeah, bad coffee can f- trip you up.” He knew that to be true. He once had to get his stomach pumped from drinking brew made by some dumbshit in his RV. That experience wasn’t really as painful as the telling-off Moxxie gave him afterwards. Little bitch always had act like he was right.

He took another big gulp. “You did good, though. Five stars.”

It wasn’t blind praise. Blitzø never bullshitted how he felt about what he drank and ate, (Much to Moxxie’s, Fizz’s, his Sunday Barista or, really, anyone’s annoyance) and the coffee was no exception; heavy and crisp with a balanced pairing of earthy and floral notes, the acidity like berries that left plenty of room for flavor instead of just tang. And the aftertaste didn’t linger like secondhand smoke, it left gradually with a mellow sheen that he didn’t mind in the slightest. Even though he was more an iced coffee guy, this was a kind of coffee Blitzø could see himself drinking again. When he wasn’t hungover, that is.

“Well, I’m thrilled to hear that, Mister Blitzø. Thank you.” Stolas responded gratefully.

By now, he had placed a lid over the eggs to let them simmer which allowed him to focus on chopping up the peppers. The imp assumed that had all he had been cutting up before Stolas turned to delicately slide a plate baring an apple that had been sliced in a way that the core stood erect as a tower with the slices spread open like a flower bloom. Before he can ask how the hell he did that so fast, Via chirped happily before plucking one slice and biting into it with a thank you.

Blitzø found her delight over the piece of fruit adorable, which the baby owl took as an invitation to pluck another slice and offer it to him with a smile. Satan, could this kid get any cuter?

He took the offered slice with a cheeky grin. Only to quickly toss it in the air and catch it with his tongue like an iguana’s, adding a “Bleh!” just for laughs, for which he earned a round of giggles from Via. He had almost missed by being blindsided by the cinnamon and spice flavor that had been baked into it. It had to have been made that very morning if the warmth and freshness of the slice was anything to go by, allowing the fruit to melt orgasmically well into his taste-buds. Wow.

He and Via had had unanimously agreed to split the apple between them, with no objections from Stolas as he busied himself with divvying up the vegetables and summoning other ingredients from the kitchen to prepare accordingly. Via filled up most of the time with chattering on innocently about little things, how funny her dream was last night, how home-school was “five times better than private school as there were less big dummy poop-heads” - Blitzø almost choked on a slice while Stolas lightly admonished her about “language” - And how her daddy once made her the bestest cake ever in the in the whole wide world for her fifth birthday. Blitzø, for as sweet as he found her daughterly praise, had to swallow the gag when she started going on about the “tasty” mouse chunks Stolas had added.

Bird or no, eating mice for Blitzø was a flat out no.

A sudden, horrifying though than popped into his head. Was Stolas going to add mice to his food?

Like mouse sausage? Mice bacon? Rat peppers? Was that a thing?! Or was he just pulling a Moxxie and asking dumbass question?

. . . Probably just being a Moxxie.

His internal debate was cut short by something else being set before him. A damn good-looking something.

An omelet the size of Blitzø’s fist lay before him, hot and steaming and straight from the hot plate. Yellow as can be with spots of golden brown, there were no signs of tears of breakage, with a perfect fluffy layer peeking from the folds stuffed with meat, veggies and oozing cheeses. The artsy fucker had even gone the extra mile and draped the top of it with a thin sheet of mozzarella, some garnish and a couple slices of baby tomatoes. Talk about extra.

“There you are, this morning’s special - ‘Egg On Your Face’ Mega-Omelet, with all the fixings and extra cheese for those unwelcome aches and pains. If I’ve done my job right, it should fix you right up.”

“Like magic!” Via dded with a bright smile. Both men chuckled at her.

“Like magic, huh?” Blitzø smirked. Well, I’ll just have to see about that.

Sure, the eggs may have looked good, but Blitzø had learned all too well that food looking good and tasting good were two totally different things.

What looked like a pile of slop to the naked eye could taste just as good as a five morning star meal served Beelzebub herself. The same thing applied to a plate of fancy finger foods that cost the same as a house mortgage but tasted like cardboard in the end. And Blitzø certainly had more than enough exposure to lousy food like that, thank you and fuck you very much, with no wish to repeat it.

Which he hoped he wouldn’t with this monster-omelet before him.

Deciding not to put it off any longer, he picked up his fork and dug the prongs into the soft-cooked eggs, scooping up a decent-sized bite with plenty of pepper, meat and cheese. After a moment’s consideration, he also speared one of the baby tomato slices. He gave the loaded fork a few blows to cool it, because there was no way he was going to down a maybe-shitty breakfast with a burnt tongue.

He stuck the fork in his mouth -

And his mind was BLOWN.

If there was such a thing as a bit of paradise, than these eggs were the mother fucking proof in the pudding. Or omelet, in this case.

The eggs were cooked to perfection; nice and fluffy to where they melt on in his mouth like luscious chocolate from Lust’s first class bakeries. And the flavor was like a parade in his mouth, from the salty onions, the crisp tomato and the sweet peppers, the numerous flavors sucker-punched his sense of taste without overwhelming the presence of the eggs. The meat inside was spectacular too, the bacon was at the optimum point between chewy and crispy, and the sausage was deliciously flavorful and greasy. His kind of meat, with the right amount of salt and black pepper.

He could barely hold down the pleasurable moan, but did nothing to stop all the muscles in his body from going lax.

Man, fuck trying to go to heaven, the key to fucking Eden’s Gate was right in his head hole.

A bemused coo. “So I take it you like it?”

Blitzø taste-jizzed mind abruptly snapped back into focus. Stolas’s beak was curled into a big, smug-ass grin that made his own fault in to a frown. The owl simply looked at him expectant. Dammit, if the kid weren’t here, he would have gladly told the bird exactly where to shove that grin.

Instead, he gave a disgruntled growl. “Yea, it’s . . . okay.”

Most chefs would have promptly gotten offended by such a dry appraisal of their “masterpieces”, especially if it came from an “uncultured swine” such as him.

But once again, Stolas surprised him by delivering a pleased smile in lieu of a hissy fit. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Eat up now, or it’ll get cold.”

Blitzø chose not to shoot off a shitty comeback, despite being rankled by the “order”. He took out his bubbling frustrations out on his food, picking up the plate and bringing it close enough to begin shoveling the omelet into his mouth like a starving man.

The petty, spiteful gremlin that was roughly, meeeh, ninety percent of his overall personality hoped that such a messy personality hoped that such a messy display would earn at least, would earn a groan of disgust. Always did the trick when he wanted to annoy Moxxie.

However, much to Blitzø’s complete consternation, the owl just gave a small humored hoot and returned to the hotplate with a single crack or insult. Like he didn’t give two shits about his bad manners.

Blitzø internally growled. What an ASS.

. . . A pretty ass, but still.

“I’m glad you’re pleased by my cooking skills.” The big bastard (Yes, Blitzø was calling him that again, suck it.) said happily, busying by wiping down the skillet while beating a new batch of eggs and sliding two slices of bread into a small old-fashioned toaster. “I have to admit, my main specialty is baking and drinks, but I try my best to expand my range of cuisine when I can.”

Once the yolks and whites were thoroughly whipped, there were poured into the skillet and almost immediately they started to sizzle and bubble from the rewarmed metal. “Unfortunately, I can’t cook the kind of food necessary to run a full-fledged cafe’.”

Blitzø swallowed a sizable bite of egg and pepper before asking, “Can’t you just wiggle your fingers and hocus pocus a steak or something?”

Stolas shook his head. “Alas that’s more Lady Beelzebub’s forte than mine. Even my magic can only do so much. Now if this was a flower shop that would be another matter, but it is what it is.”

“I’m glad it isn’t.” Via piped up. “I love Daddy’s cafe’! And I love helping him cook!”

“And you do such a magnificent job, my Owlette.” Stolas’s praise was followed by a small plate of scrambled eggs encircled by toast cut into the shape of flowers and mice, covered in butter and jam. Via took it with a bright thanks, digging in right away with a sparkly pink fork also provided by Stolas. “But sadly, a cafe’ needs more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and milk to cater to wider clientele. Not that I’m downplaying your talent as a chef, darling.”

“I’s okay, Daddy.” Via said, crumbs dotted on her beak from biting into one of her toast flowers. “I know it’s only because I’m not big enough to use the stove yet.” Blitzø mirrored her smile as she beamed up at him. “Once I can do that, Daddy said I could make even better dishes just like him.”

“Indeed I will, Starfire.” Stolas affirmed. “But for now, I’ll have to settle for looking for another cook. Sadly though -” Stolas pulled a face. “- There hasn’t been one suitable enough to help me run things here.”

“Yeah, it’s hard running the show solo.” Blitzø agreed. “Sucks even more when you don’t have a good crew to back you up. Don’t know where I’d be with M&M.”

Stolas blinked. “Uhm, ‘M&M’?”

Via blinked too. “Like the candy?”

Blitzø snickered. “Nah, Moxxie and Millie, friends of mine and my emplo-” He cut himself off with a grimace. “Well. Who were supposed to be my employees.”

The sudden downtrodden shift that overcame the imp id not go unnoticed by Stolas. “‘Supposed to be?’ What does that -”

“Don’t ask.” Blitzø said curtly. After a second, he added a little less harshly. “I-I don’t really wanna get into it right now.”

Because if I do, I KNOW I’m just going to get pissed off and do something shitty all over again.

“. . . . Alright then.”

Blitzø could hear it clear as day that the bird bastard had more questions, and would more than likely prefer to bombard him with rapid-fire questions like Moxxie would when he wanted to be particularly annoying. But thank Satan, he looked put off enough to put him off.

Small blessings.

The next few minutes passed in silence. The lull of it broken only by the sounds of silverware hitting the plates as Blitzø and Via ate, the drip of coffee as more was brewed in the pot and the subdued sounds of crunching each time either a somewhat concerned Via offered Blitzø a bite of her toast or, returning the favor, when he offered her a bite of bacon or sausage – He learned quick that she didn’t like peppers so much so he did well to avoid giving her any filled-to-the-brim bites. He could only hoped that the reason she liked it wasn’t because the meat that was in it wasn’t made from rodent.

It probably was, though, because . . . Birds.

Eventually, Blitzø had cleaned his plate, a satisfying weight settling in his stomach, he let out a contented sigh, his headache feeling miles better than almost a half hour before. “Woo, that was good. A frickin’ plus.”

The owl’s smiled chased away some of the terseness from before. “Happy to hear it. It’s always good to get good reviews on new dishes.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Quick question, though.”

“Yes?”

Blitzø pointed at the now empty plate. “Level with me – Was there any mice in that? Because, I get it, you and Via are birds, but I kinda draw the line when it comes to eating plague-carrying little turds.”

Stolas tittered at that. “No, no, I assure you, no lovely vermin of any kind was served to you. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that mice are terrible cures for hangovers.”

“What’s a hangover?” Via asked in that no-filter, childishly clueless way that all little hellspawn did.

Stolas, in a perfectly natural response to such a question, was freeze awkwardly. “O-oh, well, erm-”

Blitzø supplied the answer. “It’s like a really bad stomach bug, but for grown-ups.” Giving the little owl a conspiratorial grin, he added in a fake whisper, “Basically, if you eat too much green stuff, your poop comes out greener than Mammon’s butt.”

Via burst into a peal of little girl laughter that definitely brought an easy diffusion to Stolas’s unease, even earning a couple of barely smothered hoots that were poorly hidden by his hand.

Huh. That was twist.

Usually the parents were scolding him at this point, the usual uptight bullshit spiel about “using such vulgar language in front of their innocent little babies, you demented little firetoad!”

Not that he gave a shit because he was a comic genius, fuckyou, Moxxie.

After a bit, both birds managed to quell their laughter enough for Stolas to gently urge Via to head upstairs and get ready for the day. She agreed without protest, stopping only to allow Blitzø to ruffle her headfeathers as he added, “Gotta look cute for the suckers!” That earned him an admonishing look from Stolas that was weakened by his approving smile.

A smile that only grew bigger when Via caught the imp completely off-guard with an unexpected hug, her tiny arms wrapping swiftly and tightly around his waist, almost sending him falling off his stool. Before he could recover, Via was already heading up the staircase, humming cheerfully all the way.

Stolas’s soft chuckle drew Blitzø out of his shock. “Via has certainly taken a liking to you quickly.”

“Uh, yeah, I-I guess.” Blitzø rubbed at the back of his neck. “Last time I got hugged like that, some piece of shit nicked my wallet to buy thirty Bruiser King gift cards.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.”

“Joke was on him, though, he got food poisoning with the first card he used.”

Stolas hummed approvingly as he poured them both a fresh cup of coffee. “Well, I suppose there is such a thing as karma.”

Blitzø barked out a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, and maybe there’s a God.” He accepted the refilled mug, along with the offered sugar and creamers, and dumped almost each one in like an alcoholic adding liqueur. “Uh, speakin’ of, what do I owe ya?”

Stolas, who had added his own preferred condiments to his coffee in much more moderate manner, paused in his blowing at the steam rising from his mug. “Pardon?”

“What do I owe ya? For the food and coffee.” After a moment, he also added with only a tiny wince of guilt. “And whatever else my drunk ass did to your place before I blacked out.”

By emotionally-traumatized principle, he wouldn’t have asked outright. Often times, being the victim of a classist system that shat on those on the bottom rung, he had been subjected to grossly padded bills and unexpected expenses issued by a good percentage of the “well-to-do” owners of “upstanding establishments” where he wound up spending half the night washing up dishes. Once he got fast enough, and only if neither the food nor the service was worth the lightening of his wallet. Blitzø didn’t hesitate to pull a dine and dash; making escapes either through the bathroom window, the vent, or once through riding one of those fancy dining carts into the kitchen and out the employee entrance that admittingly had been fun to ride . . .

. . . Right up until he learned too late that the entrance opened right up to a three-story staircase with no handrail.

Needless to say, that had been one shitty ride to the hospital, Moxxie lecturing him the whole damn eight miles.

After everything – And he meant everything – in his lower body healed, he opted to hold out on anymore dashing. At least until the little baby-dick whineypuss would get off his fucking back about paying.

That aside, he saw no reason to be the deadbeat bun right now. Not when Stolas had been nothing but polite towards him. Even though he certainly didn’t deserve such kindness . . .

He braced himself for the amount as he took a long sip of his sweetened coffee -

“Oh, you needn’t worry – You don’t owe me a sint.”

Blitzø sputtered into his mug, nearly choking on the brew as he processed the owl’s words. “*Cough* *Cough* *Hack* Blegh! Excuse me?”

“You don’t need to pay me.” Stolas restated. “Like I said, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been nothing but civil, you are obviously sorry for any offense you think you’ve given – Not that you have, don’t make that face – And more importantly, Via likes you. So I see no reason to change you.”

Blitzø frowned at him. “You’re screwing with me.” He stated flatly.

“I assure you, I am not. Honestly, your praise over your breakfast was payment enough. In all honesty, you were doing me a favor.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t get a chance to try out new recipes on new faces very often, so any new opinions are always appreciated.” Blitzø felt his face fault at the slow, awfully sensual smile the owl sent him. “Especially ones as sublime as yours.”

Blitzø forgoed looking him in the eye, each cerise eye of his hooded and looking at him like he was going to be the next dish for him to devour, choosing instead to chug down half the contents of his mug. Gulping audibly, he mumbled back, “Glad I was such a good guinea pig for you.”

“I prefer the term ‘freelanced taste-taster’, personally.” Stolas retorted politely.

“I don’t want your charity.” Blitzø bit at him.

“Nor am I giving it to you. Like I said, you did me a favor.”

“How do you know I’m not some thieving bastard taking adventure of goody-two-shoes shop owners like you?”

“I have measures set to prevent such an occurrence.”

“I’m an undercover health inspector and you just failed.”

“Now you’re just grasping, dear.”

Blitzø rubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t just -” He let out a frustrated breath. “Look, I get you’re an . . . Okay guy and you are obviously trying to set a good example for your kid. I get that, but I don’t want to be the lasting impression of what to expect when giving out freebies to poor drunken bitches like me. No one should have to deal with that without getting paid, -”

“Mister Blitzø.”

Stolas’s firm tone stopped him with the sharpness of a smacked ruler. His face was stern, but not completely harsh as he eyes were looking at him with a softness that pricked at his chest.

“You. Do. Not. Me. Anything. And when I say something like that, it’s because I mean it with all the sincerity that is implied. It is not just for the sake of looking good in front of Via and certainly not some sort of dastardly ruse to get you to lower your guard. You’ve apologized and you meant it, you’ve been kind towards my daughter and enjoyed my cooking without bias or sarcasm. That said, believe me when I tell that is something I care for much more than any check or bill.”

Stolas sipped at his coffee calmly, making no comment about the for certain mollified expression on his face. “So, please, no more apologies. They are appreciated, but to be honest, after twenty-two of them, it just feels repetitive.”

Blitzø gave him a look. “Sorry what now?”

“Mister Blitzø -”

“Nah, nah, what you just said, the fuck you mean I said sorry twenty-two times?”

Stolas’s beak dropped into a thin line, taking a moment to maybe think his words over before formulating a response, “When Via and I found you last night, you were in a . . . A great deal of distress.” He was clearly trying to more emphatic than judgmental. “You were greatly intoxicated and horridly incoherent. Once I was close enough, all I could hear was you saying sorry over and over.”

Blitzø could feel himself growing hot from the neck up in embarrassment. The apprehensive caution in Stolas’s voice was doing fuck all to help the crashing wave of shame following up like a speeding train.

He didn’t need Stolas to tell him what he was bawling like a baby over.

But, ever the bottom bitch for punishment, asked anyway. “. . . I say what for?”

Stolas then turned sheepish. “O-Oh well, uh-uhm, I don’t quite recall -”

“Bird, I don’t do any of that hee-haw Shit, it’s too early and I’m still hungover and all I’m gonna do is get pissed off now WHAT did I SAY?”

With two sets of eyes, it was easy to see that Blitzø was not going to give up on getting an answer. Stolas sighed softly.

“You made a great deal of apologies to a great deal of people. I didn’t catch every name but, erm, you had quite the list.” He sipped at his mug, stalling for only a minute before continuing.

“You apologized to a miss Mistly for dinging her car door while trying parallel park by a Wacdonald’s, a miss Queen for breaking smashing her one of a kind pirate ship in a bottle instead of the pinata by accident on her birthday, a miss Millie for chipping her favorite ax, a mister Moxxie for making him run all the way to Greed for a single battery for your TV remote, dropping his guitar fourteen times, borrowing his wallet, or more accurately, pinching his wallet to pay for Voxflix twice, a miss Barbie for stealing one of her skirts and ripping it whilst performing a split, I couldn’t really make out what exactly you were apologizing to a “Vee” and a “Fizz” for -”

“Okay!” Blitzø blurted out. “Okay! I get it! I get it! I was a hot mess, no more shit needed, I got it!” He cringed at the indignant crack in his voice. Christ, like he didn’t look enough like a pathetic shit already. He might as well plan to fake his own death again.

You know what they say, fifth time’s the charm.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Stolas’s weak attempt to reassure him only bounced off of the imp like a ping-pong ball. “It really wasn’t. Really, you should have seen me afterwards when I was binge-drinking.”

Blitzø scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you got real frisky from all those white wine spritzers.”

“Actually, I tended to lean more towards absinthe.” Stolas retorted, with no little bit of sass, taking a small bit of gratification from Blitzø’s surprised. “Of course, with how I was knocking back each bottle, you’d almost believe they were Purgerade drinks.”

Blitzø lifted his head from where he had been pressing it into the bartop. “Damn, how many we talkin’?”

“At least two to three on a good night, or whatever was close to that.”

The imp gave a low whistle. “”Fuck me, bird. I get shit-faced after half a bottle, how the fuck are you still standing?”

“At this point, stubbornness and sheer dumb luck, I believe.” Stolas quipped.

That startled enough mirth in Blitzø to actually make him laugh. “Join the club, pal.”

“I fear I cannot, as I have cut back my vigorous drinking to properly attend to Octavia. Leaving my former occupation did wonders for helping me cub the habit.”

“Bosses sucked that bad, huh?”

“Doubly so, considering it was a family business, sort to speak, although, I can assure they were family in name only.”

“Ugh. Preachin’ to the fuckin’ choir – there’s only so much shitty family a bitch could take in one day.”

“That, Mister Blitzø, I can wholeheartedly agree on.”

There were getting off-track. Blitzø bit his lip. “. . . I’m sorry for my shit.”

“For the final time, no more apologizes are necessary.”

He angled his head towards the staircase door. “I probably scared your kid.”

“Via has seen far worse, I assure you. Even when off your cups, you weren’t untoward her in any way, so you can save any of the claims of indecency that you’ve half-heartedly concocted in that crafty little mind of yours.”

“Just let me fuckin’ pay you.”

“I neither require nor want your money and I promise you, should you try to force any $ouls on me, I will promptly set it to aflame.”

“Lilith’s titties, you’re a stubborn bitch.”

“And you are an equally stubborn spendthrift.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not without dinner, if you please.”

Blitzø groaned. “God, we’re gonna keep talking in circles if you don’t just charge me and get it over with. I’m not fucking broke, I have the $ouls, just let me pay you.”

Stolas’s counter remark definitely caught Blitzø unawares. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s done something genuinely kind for you, hasn’t it?”

Blitzø’s hackles rose instantly at the “innocent” statement. “You trying to say something?”

Stolas merely sipped at his coffee. “Just an assessment.”

“Or you being a dickhead.”

“I made you a free breakfast for which I expect nothing in return. I am being absolutely forthright whereas you are choosing not to believe that I have no ulterior motives. Who, might I ask, is being the dickhead here?”

Oh, this smug bitch.

He had wanted to let loose a snarl that would make the owl falter in his not requested charity streak. He felt the urge already rising in his throat, ready to finally tell off this prick who was seriously starting to piss him off . . .

. . . But could only let out a low whine at the exhaustion of prolonging the one-sided argument, the fatigue of a bad night, getting totally smashed and crashing just as hard setting in. Being still half hungover sure as shit was not helping to keep the spark of pride burning.

If anything, Blitzø felt even more tired.

He wanted nothing more than to lay everything out, pay whatever the fucking bird deserved and drag his broke-back ass back home and lick his wounds from last night. And the only thing that was stopping him was getting through to this royally stubborn and feathery (Not to mention pretty soft-looking) bastard of a demon.

“Alright, look – I want to pay you back, but for some weird ass reason, you won’t let me.”

“I think we have perfectly established that.”

“So we got a problem.”

“Which could be solved by you accepting my putting your breakfast on the house.”

“And it should be clear as fuck that ain’t happening.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

Blitzø blew a breath of air out of his nose. “I’m not just being an asshole here – I don’t like owing people anything. I’ve been dipping in and out of debts for years, financial and personal. And just that fucking recently I finally managed to pay off a good chunk of them only to literally be screwed over again almost the same fucking day. So now I’m once again edging too damn close to bankruptcy for my liking.”

He gave the owl a flat look. “Meaning I can’t take any chances, such as freebies or random handouts, cuz Charity was just as easily turn into high-interest loans with zero time frames for return payments, unless you want to set up an installment plan that involves cutting out pounds of flesh ever week. Obviously, a guy like me can’t afford to look any more fucked up than he is with a chunk of anything missing.

“All that said, do you see what I’m gettin’ at?”

“. . . . I’m starting to.” Stolas said with a considerate look.

“Satisfaction eased through Blitzø’s frame. “Great. Glad we finally got that -”

“All the same, you needn’t pay me.”

And just like that it was gone.

He growled so sharply it would have destroyed eardrums had he done it inside of headphone speakers. “You fuckin’-”

“But since you won’t accept the gesture,” Stolas interrupted calmly. “How about just doing me a special favor?”

“‘Special favor’?” Blitzø blinked. “What kinda -”

A sound not unlike a light bulb dinged in his thank full-no-longer-as-sore cranium.

Oh.

Oh okay.

He gave a resigned sigh. “Hooookay, look, tootsie hootsie, if you just wanted a quick shag in the back all you had to do was ask. But I gotta warn ya, the place I’ve fucked in was a public bathroom that probably wasn’t cleaned in the last year or two, so I’ll probably need to wipe down the goods with something. Baby wipes would be good if got’em -”

“NO!” A spluttered hoot brought his attention back to Stolas, whose heart-shaped features had turned an almost violent shade of crimson in the span of half a minute. “No! No, no! Not that kind of favor, no! I mean I need your mouth!”

Blitzø gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, I got that much, relax.”

“No! No! I mean -” Stolas let out a shaky warble before planting his face into his hands while muttering to himself in fit of bashfulness.

Blitzø just sipped at his coffee, waiting for him to spit whatever he wanted to say out. To his credit, he didn’t stare, knowing from his own share of verbal vomiting moments that doing that would just make his embarrassment worse.

Even though he no clue what the fuck he was suddenly so damn worked up about.

I mean, fuck, if I had a sint for each time I said the “wrong” things, I’d be raking in more money more green than Mammon.

A deep breath. “Forgive me, I’m doing this all wrong. I’m trying to offer you a deal. Something, I hope, will mutually beneficial to the both of us.”

The incredulous look on Blitzø’s face was quickly addressed. “Nothing vulgar or dramatic involved, you needn’t worry. Nothing of the sort.” He took another deep breath. “I would like for to come in again, and try my cooking.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Say what now?”

Stolas made a small noise of exasperation. “As I said, I’m still relatively new to running a business dealing with dining and catering and the like. I’m often pushed into having to spontaneously expand my range of techniques and specialties depending on my success. I know I’m capable, but I know that I can’t just rely on my own opinion and preferences alone. Even more so when I’m attempting new dishes. As such, I need an outside opinion.”

The imp blinked. “And yooouuu think that’s me?”

Stolas nodded. “Very much so.”

“Some fucking rando off the street who broke into your private property, was wasted out of his mind and could just as easily rob you blind despite these so-called ‘measures’ you said you have?”

“Not as ‘so-called’ as you say, but yes.”

“Rrrright.” Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Don’tcha have, I dunno other foodie friends, you can ask? Or maybe just wait for some famous food blogger critic douchebag to to come in and give you a rating?”

“None that would trust to be fair or take seriously, or assume my want for approval is really a want for cheap compliments – that I’m desperate enough to give someone license to either be obnoxiously petty or to deliver the best shallow review that procures them a not so low-key invitation to my bedroom.”

Blitzø grunted. “Asshats.”

“You should see how quickly they recoil as soon as they learn of Via.”

“Fuckin’ asshats.”

“Quite.” Stolas affirmed. “And to answer your other question, yes, I do have others whose say I do value, but I’ve heard relying on the biased does not help one’s credibility. I do appreciate the precious few whom I’m fortunate enough to have as friends, but I need a healthy dose of honesty from outside sources to provoke me to experiment and expand myself.”

“And you think that guy is me?” Blitzø repeated, gesturing to himself crudely.

“Of course.”

“Bullshit.”

“Good gracious, and you call me stubborn.”

“It’s not -” He let out a small snarl.

Seriously? He was still keeping this up? Enough was enough.

“Look, I get you’re trying to be nice, I get that. But, trust me, I’m the last fucking guy you want to be nice to let alone have around. Seriously, ask fucking anyone in hearing distance – I’m a right bastard on a good day and a pushy dickhead on a bad one, I’ve fucked up more people than I’ve actually helped and you would have more sense to shoot me rather than invite me over again. I mean, you gotta kid to think about, and -”

Blitzø shook his head. “And you don’t want me messin’ with your business. The one I tried starting flopped before I even got my feet off the ground. Pretty sure that speaks a fuckton for how helpful I can be towards you.”

He could barely ignore the burning sting of truth in that statement.

Saying all the shit that was a constant boiling inside him all out loud sucked.

It sucked balls.

He knew it was better than letting it all rot and fester like he let everything else – But it still sucked.

Fuck what his therapist said about it being being cathartic. He should quit that bitch.

It’s not like he would be able to pay them for much longer anyway.

Blitzø knew he was not the kind of person to be asked to come back. Even the scraps of friends he had managed to hang on to could barely wait for him to leave as soon as he said hello.

Moxxie was the leading example of proving him right. Even when Blitzø actually adhered to his demands of privacy and properly asking for invites to visit, (That Blitzø still found completely anal of him although he bit his lip) Moxxie was adamant to get him out the door before he could even get two fucks in.

Even Millie, Moxxie’s blast and a half of a wife, who was far more accommodating than her whore-back husband, drew the line when it came to his company being longer than necessary.

That was to say fucking nothing about his own flesh and blood.

Barbie Wire, his twin sister, his other half, would sooner see him six feet under before seeing him again.

Cash Buckzo, his father, never asked for him, never wanted him, and made it a point of telling him so straight to his face more than once.

His mother, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . She sure as fuck would have been better off without him.

And his exes? Those who he didn’t remember or couldn’t care to remember, those he never took a chance on because of him being too much of a pussy to try?”

Verosika? It was pretty fucking clear on how that went.

Fizz?

He was never wanted.

He was never missed.

He was never asked to come back.

Not for a visit.

Not for a drink.

Never just to hang and shoot the shit.

He was always tossed away as soon as necessary.

He was always left behind, pushed aside, shoved into the background.

Forgotten.

Dead for all those concerned.

Dead, except in the way he wanted when he was at the lowest he could be.

No one ever missed him.

No one ever wanted him back.

Nobody.

“. . . . I fuck things up more often than I get them right. There’s a pretty good chance if you get involved with me, shit’s gonna go sideways for you too.”

He wasn’t sure if he had muttered that part aloud or not. Not that he gave a shit.

He halfway expected to be asked to repeat himself.

Or maybe Stolas would curse him under his breath for being such a dramatic bitch.

Maybe he would finally cut the bullshit and be real about what the fuck that he really wanted from him.

However, all Blitzø got in response, was a soft touch at his wrist, soft as silk and just as gentle.

Along with two sets of big cerise rose eyes that crinkled gently at the corners as they held his gaze with calmness and sympathy.

And maybe something else, but that could’ve been that whiny, fractured part of himself making up what wasn’t actually there.

“I’ve taken far riskier gambles than trusting a stranger out of the blue, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas spoke in such a comforting voice. “And I have yet to lose from any of them. Perhaps it’s rather cocky to say so, but since my winning streak has yet to be broken, I think you’re a rather good bet to take a chance on.”

The tender smile, that was nothing short of dazzling, he gave Blitzø at the end such a declaration was a damn good seller.

Satan forbid this man ever works for Vox – cause with that smile, he could sell gas station keys like they were the keys to gates of Eden itself. I mean, if his touch alone could send sparks up my arm like he was doing right now. . .

Fuck him if he knew.

The hand causing such a feeling than gave two soft pats to his wrist before lifting away to grab the coffee pot once more, refilling Blitzø’s mug with still steaming java and the exact number of sugars and creams he had diluted it with before.

“So, how does coming in twice, three times a week sound? I usually close the cafe’ around seven since I try to get Octavia in bed by eight thirty on weeknights. If you like to come by over the weekend, I close around six thirty to seven o’clock depending on how busy I get. Except any catering orders or special events, I’m not fussy over whenever you come over. All I ask is that you let me know when you’re coming by in advance so I can have something ready for you. A day or two ahead would be just fine.”

Blitzø, this time, could not find in him to groan loudly in protest to the blatant hardheaded dismissal of the what seemed like hours long argument. The argument he bitterly realized that he couldn’t fight against.

That did nothing to stop him from throwing his head back and scowling at the annoying as shit clean ceiling tiles above them.

“. . . . . . . You really aren’t gonna give this up, are you?” He said after a while.

“I suppose I’m about as bull-headed as you are.”

Blitzø gave a chuffing laugh at that.

Well, fuck.

What was he supposed to do with that?

What could he do with that?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuck it, if the worst happened, he could just disappear again, right?

Not likely Stolas would look for him just for a review, right?

. . . . Right.

“. . . . . . . . . . The peppers and onions were both sweet.”

Stolas blinked at him like the owl he was.

Heh. Cute.

“The omelet was good, but it was kinda over-sweetened; I don’t know what kinda onions you added but personally I would use a more subtle kind of onion to help round out the sweetness of the peppers.”

He let this sink in for a moment before continuing, “I remember seeing you add a green pepper so next time I would recommend using a shallot, maybe about half a tablespoon’s worth should be right. A regular tablespoon’s good too if you don’t use too much of the peppers.”

He sipped at his refreshed coffee. “I personally, like some spice in my eggs to help me wake up, so don’t be afraid to throw some in the mix in the future. Like oregano or basil. You don’t have to go crazy with the amount, though, - just about when you’re making the bowl and a few dashes of it on top when ya put it on the plate. It’ll pair well with the tomatoes and not distract you too much from the rest of the food.”

He took a breath. “Coffee’s good, strong enough to double as a chemical peel, everything any caffeine addict is looking for. The aftertaste doesn’t turn me off from drinking the rest and from how it feels going down I am a hundred and fifteen percent sure you’re a nit-pick bitch cuz I taste how finely you ground the beans without turning them to powder. It’s good ya didn’t because that shit’s only good foe about half hour before fighting to keep your eyes open by either shooting up some dope or knocking back enough 66-Hour-Energy drinks to give the Big B a heart attack.”

Shouldn’t he stop? Maybe he was saying too much. Stolas had asked for honesty and Blitzø was doing his best to deliver it with as little jackassery as possible.

Problem was, for Blitzø, jackassery was his default language, according to practically everyone and their fat mom’s. And, most of the time, he didn’t even realize how much he let slip out before he got a sharp crack across the face. Or a knee to the balls.

He chanced a look at Stolas. If he looked upset, he could take it all back. It wasn’t too late, he could still backtrack -

Tiny stars sparked in Stolas’s wide eyes. Small and bright and beautiful, looking every bit like the twinkling little lights his mom would tell stories to him and Barbie back in their childhood. After the circus ring was cleared of trash and the last Hellhorse was tucked in their stall. Back when, even thought hings weren’t easy, everything was okay.

Before everything suddenly wasn’t.

Stolas, upon noticing Blitzø looking at him, instantly grew more flustered in some odd cacophony of joy and mortification, his plumage fluffing up from the top of his crown to the little floof of feathers on his chest. His hands belated came up to smooth them back into place, unfortunately they did little to quell them along with the rosy blush that tinted his face plate into an eye-catching pink.

Damn, this bird was so cute it was unfair.

The anxious itch in his chest was put to ease right there and then.

This couldn’t actually work, could it?

. . . Could it?

. . . . . . Maybe. Just maybe.

Emboldened, Blitzø sent the owl a lazy smile that easily darkened the pink on his face, matching the warmth the imp felt on his own face. “The apple was like a fucking angel feather, so soft and tasty. You have got to show me how the ever-loving fuck you made it turning to to applesauce ‘cause that shit was better than fuckin’ crack.”

Stolas looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be elated or overwhelmed.

After an awkwardly long amount of time, he clearly had settled on elation. His upper set of eyes turned upward in little crescents as his beak returned the smile with a brightness that Blitzø felt proud of bring out.

“I’d be happy to, darling.”

To be continued . . .

ME: Hey all you sinners & saints! Who’s excited for HAZBIN HOTEL coming out this friday?!?!?!? (Or Thursday if you actually watch it at it’s appointed time) I know I am!

I am SO EXCITED AND DESPERATELY TRYING TO IGNORE THE FACT THIS STORY IS LITTERALLY GOING TO LOST IN HAZBIN HIGH THAT I KNOW IS COMING FOR THE PAST WEEK. AND THE WEEK AFTER THAT. And the week after that . . .

ANYWAYSO, here is the recipe for the Mega-Omelet, which let me tell, just reading the ingredients alone mad me feel full! Also, what do you do for your respective hangovers? Let me know in the comments!

I’ll have the next (& FINAL chapter of this installment) written and posted as soon as I can, so until then, eat hearty, everyone!

Oh, and enjoy your stay at the Hazbin Hotel . . .

#helluva boss #stolitz #helluva boss fanfiction #helluva boss fanfic #my fanfic #cafe' au #Based on Pink Lomito's original AU art #Cooking #Kid Octavia #Blitz & Via Bonding #Mega Omelet #Included recipe #Chef! Stolas #SOME angst #Hangovers and remedies #blitzø #blitzo #blitz helluva boss #stolas goetia #stolas #prince stolas #stolas helluva boss #octavia #octavia goetia #octavia helluva boss

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Based on the burger, Novelle going on a burger date with her s/o and the s/o doing the burger challenge from persona 5 and managing to do it!

(Genshin Impact) Noelle's S/O attempting the Big Bang Burger challenge

"Whopper, Whopper, Whopper, Whopper Junior, Double, Triple, Whopper You live at 108 East Columbia Street-"

(Noelle) "I'm not a fussy eater, but I really don't like banquets… The reason being, as the maid, I am expected to sample every single dish on the table to ensure its quality. Just one bite of each, of course, but it all adds up… Oh, the guilt…" (Direct Game Dialogue)

Noelle tries not to gorge herself on food. It's very unmaid-like to have crumbs covering your cheeks, munching away on a variety of food.

But when Good Hunter had a new challenge for a "Burger", S/O wanted to try it out during their date.

Noelle is ready to order a salad before seeing S/O saying they would like to attempt the challenge.

In thirty minutes, S/O had to eat a massive burger, the size of which could dwarf the stars!...Or so the advertising blurb went, anyway.

She wasn't entirely sure if this was a foreign food or not, but, it did look good at least!

As for the challenge...not so much. Noelle's belt felt tighter just looking at the picture.

(Noelle) "S/O? Are you sure you want to take the challenge?"

Well, then again the pictures tend to exaggerate how big food actually is-

By Barbatos's holy balls, that burger was MASSIVE.

It made everyone passing by do a double take, looking at the size of the burger on the plate.

(Noelle) "What in the world, where's the bread?! That's just meat and veggies!"

(S/O) "I can do this, Noelle! If I finish it, the meal is free!"

(Noelle) "Oh dear."

Noelle watched S/O tackle the burger as they picked it up somehow and dug in.

It honestly made her feel ill just looking at them.

That burger alone was more than she ate in an entire week.

As the minutes pass by, it feels like hours as she barely sees a dent made in the burger.

By the ten minute mark, S/O looked like they were ready to die, Noelle's heart was ready to burst, thinking they actually would.

She could feel the calorie pressure just radiating from the burger as S/O finally made decent progress.

Finally by the thirty minute mark, a crowd had gathered around S/O to watch, Noelle only realizing they were there when they finally finished.

Their face slammed onto the table, with Sara clapping her hands.

(Sara) "Congratulations! You've beaten the challenge! Your meal for Miss Noelle and yourself are free, and here's your prize!"

...It was a charm necklace in the shape of a burger.

That was just insult to injury.

(Noelle) "S/O?"

(S/O) "Ugh...I-I did it...Enjoy your meal, sweetie."

(Noelle) "How can I enjoy my meal when you're about to die from indigestion?!"

(S/O) "Do...you want a burger?"

(Noelle) "NO!...W-Well, not that one, but I still shouldn't put on any calories!"

(Lumine) "I feel like I've gained weight just watching you..."

(Noelle) "AGH! H-Honorary Knight? When did you get here?!"

(Lumine) "Paimon and I came to see what the fuss was about about fifteen minutes ago. Gotta say, I'm impressed!"

Noelle watched Paimon materialize next to Lumine.

(Paimon) "Paimon likes new food buuuuut, that might be a bit too far!...Also, is S/O going to be alright?"

Noelle sighed and gently picked up S/O into her arms effortlessly, cradling them to not further upset their stomach.

(S/O) "Probably not."

(Noelle) "Please, excuse me!"

Before departing, Noelle made sure to organize the plates, and steal a Fontaine Fry before heading to Barbara's.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #noelle genshin impact x reader #noelle genshin impact #noelle x reader #lumine genshin impact #paimon

[downtroddendeity]

@turnkeyassurance saw your tags and figured I'd take the opportunity to pause my descent into madness to give my more sober opinions on the Ni no Kuni franchise, lol. (Warning: I am a humongous JRPG nerd)

The NNK games are really odd ducks, quality-wise. You can call either one a good game or a bad game and call either one better than the other, and any combination of those opinions can be something I think is entirely justified. Both of them have things they do remarkably well and also serious, profound, deal-breaking flaws, and the really weird thing is that there's almost no overlap between those two lists for the two games. What clicks and doesn't about both of them is going to be deeply individual.

What Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch does, with resounding success, is Vibes. It sets out at every single step with the goal of being a playable Ghibli movie, and it sticks to that principle. It's all about beautiful, cel-shaded whimsy. It's a game for people who want to feel like they're wandering through the meadows in the movie version of Howl's Moving Castle. There are lots of puns, and you can befriend all the random encounter monsters and feed them ice cream.

But that's also its Achilles' heel: because it's dedicated entirely to imitation, it has trouble bringing things to the table that are really its own. It has the visual and narrative aesthetics of Hayao Miyazaki's films, but it doesn't have the raw emotion at the heart of them. And as a game, its mechanics combine the clunkiest features of menu-based combat and action RPGs, and while everything about the Pokemon-esque mechanics seems designed to encourage players to collect and experiment with them, the balancing turns attempting to do that into a miserable grindy nightmare.

The other problem is that it... isn't actually the first Ni no Kuni game. Wrath of the White Witch is, in fact, a remake of the Nintendo DS game Ni no Kuni: Dominion of the Dark Djinn, which was never released outside Japan. The reason for this is pretty easy to explain, because DDD had another gimmick besides its aesthetics: it came with a real-life physical copy of the wizard spellbook, and the player had to look things up in it and draw sigils on the DS touchscreen to cast spells. So, we've got a high-effort remake that had to completely cut the central mechanic... and which also expanded the plot so that the original main villain was no longer the primary antagonist. This results in a game with what is very clearly a final dungeon and very clearly a final boss and very clearly a resolution to the story, which suddenly has a completely different plot dropped on it like a fucking anvil that it expects you to be just as invested in even though it hasn't had anything like the same level of buildup.

And ironically, this is almost the exact opposite of the biggest problem with Ni no Kuni 2: Revenant Kingdom, a.k.a. the one with my new blorbo, the President of the United Union of Eagleland. 2 is an effort to try to cement an identity for the series that can be its own, rather than requiring them to depend indefinitely on borrowed Miyazaki nostalgia. It just has the teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy problem that at some point in development it had a budget shortfall so bad that you can finish the game without ever realizing that there is a continent-sized crashed interdimensional spaceship on the world map.

This game has had a machete taken to it. Don't get me wrong, I genuinely respect the work they did to make what they could with what they had, but you can see the signs of massive scope cuts to literally every aspect of the game. The back half of the game has almost exclusively recycled enemy and environment assets; voice acting has been trimmed down to canned voice clips; the catboy protagonist's ears and tail are barely animated; one minigame was so inadequately playtested that a level 16 mission is massively harder than level 50 ones; and while whatever restructuring they had to do to the main plot still left the final version with a more solid and coherent central arc than WWW in my opinion, it also left a lot of truly gaping plot holes, like oh, I don't know, why the President of the United States got turned into a 19-year-old.

Literally, they just. Entirely forgot to explain that. Half the DLC is just the writers scrambling to fix stuff like that and add a bunch of character development that should have been in the base game.

However, despite all this, I personally enjoyed NNK2 more than NNK1 unironically, not just for Rolandposting reasons. Compared to the first one, it plays much more smoothly as a straight action RPG, and while it can't provide the same knock-your-socks-off aesthetic cohesion, to me it seemed a lot more heartfelt- that is, like a game that was made because people had a story they wanted to tell.

But, well, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the non-unironic reasons, because the story they really, genuinely wanted to tell was about a magical catboy growing up and learning to become a leader, and somehow, miraculously, they really thought that was the story I was here for too when they opened the game with the President of the United States being isekaied by Nuke-kun.

Sorry, guys, I have a crippling addiction to dramatic irony and my day job is tech work in local politics, you could not have more laser-targeted this at making me specifically laugh my ass off if you tried.

#turnkeyassurance #reply #gameblogging #/ #// #ni no kuni #ni no kuni 2

[roseblog-rog]

She Actually Built a Shrink Ray…

(contains g/t mouthplay, g/t fearplay, and dubcon)

My best friend—Jamie—told me a while ago that she was working on a big project. After some prying from my end, she revealed it was going to be some sort of laser that would…do something with, like, atoms? And it would decrease them…I think? Maybe? When she started using science talk I kinda zoned out.

But she eventually dumbed it down for me, saying it would make whatever object it hits far smaller, which actually kinda made sense.

“So, a shrink ray? Like Honey, I Shrunk the Kids?”

“Yeah, something like that…but what the fuck are you talking about? Shrinking kids n’ shit??”

“WHAT??? YOU DON’T KNOW THAT MOVIE???? IT’S A CLASSIC!”

“Nah you made that shit up.”

For someone so smart she’s a complete dumbass. Or maybe it’s just not a popular movie…

Anyways, it’s not that I doubted her ability, per se, but I was highly skeptical about whether that was even possible. I mean sure, the idea of shit from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids being real was very intriguing…but could she do it?

That question was finally answered today when she sent me a text saying ‘HAZELLLLL COME OVER NOWWWW ITS SUPER DUPER IMPORTANT 😱😱😱’, and I arrived to her house only to be dragged to her lab where I found…well…a big laser. It really did look like something out of a movie, appearing very similar to Wayne Szalinski’s own creation.

This is where I am now: staring at the large machine, shock and some slight skepticism evident. “Is–is this…?”

“You bet your ass it is! Here lemme show you.” She ran over to a box containing several big red building blocks, taking one out and putting it on a stool where the laser was aimed. She then moved over to some sort of control panel and fiddled with some switches until the tip of the laser was glowing yellow.

I watched in awe; her genuine scientific prowess never ceases to amaze me. Still, I couldn’t help but make a remark. “Y’know, I honestly expected the beam to be red. Maybe some blue glow mixed in.” I smirk.

She glared at me playfully. “Well sooorryyyy it’s not exactly like your stupid obscure movie.”

We laughed as she finished activating the machine. She beckoned me to her side and we both watched as an actual laser was fired onto the building block, making it glow in a similar shade to the beam itself. My mouth then hung open in complete awe as I watched the once large block slowly shrink until it was about as big as a fingernail. She then turned off the machine, and we both went to look at the results. Sure enough, the block was intact, and I picked it up between my fingers to get a closer look.

Well holy fucking shit. The block was exactly the same aside from the now smaller size, and I could see Jamie grinning out of the corner of my eye.

“This is…this is, well, revolutionary.” I couldn’t believe she built this thing, still caught up in the shock of it all.

“Oh but thats not all! Put the block back on the stool.” She instructed, rushing back to the control panel. I could tell she was just as excited about this as I was, if her happy little bounces and giggles were any indication.

I placed the block back and returned to my position beside her, noticing the tip of the laser was now glowing purple instead of yellow. The process then repeated, only this time I watched the block grow back to its original size. Incredible.

“I still can’t believe you actually managed to pull this off…”

“You saying you doubted me?” She gave me another lighthearted glare. “Aaaaanyways, you ready?”

Ah. Right. Because I love and trust Jamie more than anyone, also seeing her capabilities firsthand, I volunteered to help test her machines as a human subject. Is there an ethical issue with this arrangement? Maybe, but it’s cool.

However…

While nothing bad has ever happened to me as a result of previous tests, Jamie has a tendency to…mess with me during the process. She knows her machines more than I do, therefore knowing exactly how to fuck with me. Like the time she built some sort of emotional amplifier, activating it whenever I laughed until I was quite literally pissing myself and breathless on the ground laughing. Or the time she built that stupid artificial spider drone—Jeffrey, the fucker—and kept making it crawl into my peripherals to scare the shit out of me.

I love her to death but she can be a real pain in the ass during tests, using my misery to fully test the capabilities of her machines. The sadist.

This time though…this time was different. I would be completely at her mercy, too tiny to do anything but accept whatever she does. It was…thrilling, honestly. Will it be scary? Probably. Will I get annoyed? Maybe.

But she wouldn’t hurt me.

“Yeah yeah okay whatever, let’s get this over with.” I sat down at the stool, and Jamie gave me a knowing smirk. I watched the laser—which was now pointed at me—start to glow yellow again, but despite the nerves I could never miss a joke opportunity.

“I am not missing the mall today.” I huffed and rolled my eyes, truly embodying my inner Amy. Jamie just stared at me with the most deadpan stare I’ve ever seen.

“I am so glad I finished building this so I don’t have to deal with your bullshit about this movie you’re so obsessed with.”

“Oh cmonnnnn. Youuuu loveeee meeeeee~” I taunted in my singsong voice. But at that moment she smiled and the machine was activated.

The feeling of the beam hitting me is…hard to describe. The best word I can think of is tingly. An almost soft and fuzzy sensation filled my body as I watched the world around me get bigger and bigger. It was one thing to see an object shrink, but a whole different experience to actually see the world grow while you get smaller. Tables grew taller, tools became gigantic, things that were once so close by slowly felt miles away. Even the stool I was sitting on transformed into more of an open landscape in my eyes.

After some time the world stopped warping around me, and I stood up to take in my surroundings. I was so familiar with Jamie’s lab, and yet it seemed like a completely new room from this perspective. I could notice cracks and rough edges around me with more clarity, notice particles of dust flying through beams of light. I glanced down from the stool and it felt like I was on top of a whole fucking mountain. This was absolutely insane, like h—

“Holy shit!” Jamie’s voice boomed through my ears, and I had to raise my hands to cover them from the vibrations that practically shook my whole body. My ears started ringing. A shadow now loomed over me, and looking up I could see Jamie towering above. From the look on her face, though barely legible due to the distance, she seemed to notice my more sensitive hearing.

“Oops, sorry Hazey.” Her voice fell to a calmer speaking tone, which no longer rattled my eardrums as I slowly lowered my hands. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

I laugh, smirking. “Oh look who’s doubting herself now.”

She pauses for a moment, then speaks again. “I can barely hear you.” She chuckles. “That’s new.”

“Hey!” I pout, also noticing she’s cupped her hands. She lowers them down to the stool, and it looks like an offer to climb in. I accept, stepping onto her palm and balancing myself.

“Just don’t lift me up too—“ I feel her hands rocket up towards her face, and I fall over from the sheer force of it. Dark spots quickly faded in and out of my vision “…quickly.”

She chuckles softly. “Sorry about all this, you’d think I’d have thought about how to properly treat you with how much preparation I did.” I stood back up and met her eyes. They were huge, and I could really take in the rich shades of brown within her irises. “But speaking of you,” she left me standing on one hand while she moved the other to ruffle my hair with her pointer finger, “you are so fucking cute! You’re like a little speck on my hand!!”

I blush furiously, not used to being the short one. “Hey! I’m not that small!” Being in her hand I could see I was about the size of half her finger.

“Awwww poor wittwle thing~” She continued to coo and rub the top of my head. I hate the fact that it actually felt really good. Is this how she was gonna mess with me this time? Taunting me for being short?

“Stoppppp!” I whined through giggles, starting to melt at the contact but being unable to actually do anything about it. I already know my face is completely red. She knows me too fucking well.

Her finger starts to softly shove me around a bit, rubbing ever so often. I get a bit dizzy from the overwhelming tenderness of it all.

“Hehe! You’re such a fun little toy!”

That comment makes my mind and heart stutter, and I really start to take in just how powerless I am in this situation. I begin feeling a bit of wetness in my panties, but try to keep those thoughts at bay. As far as I know, Jamie isn’t interested in sex or anything of the sort. Besides, we’re friends. I’ll just enjoy the soft shoves and rubs and coos, that’s more than enough.

But then I notice that blush has crept onto her face as well, and she slowly smirks as her finger stops playing with me. She gently pinches the back of my shirt, lifting me up, and now I’m really helpless. I instinctively and slowly start to flail around to free myself from her grip, but to no avail.

I’m in front of her mouth now, and her lips are slightly parted. I can feel how heavy she’s breathing, warm air pushing out and brushing against my skin. Her breath smells nice, it’s honestly kind of soothing.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Sorry in advance.” With that being my only warning, she fully opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. She’s salivating a lot, and the realization of what she’s doing dawns on me.

“Wait! Wait wait wait wait!” She drops me onto her tongue as I beg and squirm, but no matter how much I try to crawl off of her tongue I cannot get any sort of grip. I keep slipping and falling helplessly as her tongue snakes back into her mouth with me on it.

“No no no no no please! Jamie!” But it’s too late. I’m fully inside her mouth at this point, her tongue now flipping me over to hold me down against the bottom of her mouth. I try to push myself out, but she’s too strong. I feel tears start enter my eyes.

“I don’t mean to scare you. I swear I’m not like…eating you or something. I just…” She trails off, and her mouth fully closes.

I honestly never realized just how dark the mouth is when closed, because it’s open whenever I look into mine. But now I get the real experience. It’s dark. Very dark. The air around me is also very thick and humid, the warmth of her tongue and copious amounts of saliva contributing heavily. It also smells completely like Jamie’s breath in here—I mean, obviously—but overwhelmingly so. I can hear her breathe through her throat from my position under her tongue.

Her throat. Right.

Well, she said she wasn’t gonna eat me…but what the fuck is happening then? Is this just another scare prank? Is she secretly a cannibal and just lied to make me struggle less? I’m at a complete loss.

I feel her moving around now, hear her searching through drawers for something. The vibrations of her footsteps ripple through the mouth, bouncing me between her wet tongue and the floor. As scary as this is, the warmth is comfortable, and the moisture surrounding me is actually pretty arousing.

Fuck, I’m trapped in my now-giant friend’s mouth and all I can do is be a whore. Typical, honestly.

I try to move again but I’m still being held down, and suddenly I hear Jamie stop searching. A breath of relief moves up through her throat and out her lips, giving me a brief glimpse of light before it is snuffed out once again.

I’m not even scared anymore, honestly. I’m just bored. This sucks actually. If you’re gonna scare me like this at least up the stakes.

I feel her move around some more until she sits down on what is either a couch or her bed. Regardless, I felt the bounce.

“Jamieeeeee!” I try to yell out to her, hoping she hears me from in here. “What the fuck is going on?!” I need answers and if nothing else I can try to get them.

“Just—! Please let me have this.” I’ve never heard her like this before, voice so shaky and desperate. I feel some fear creep back in, but this time it’s for her rather than me. “I need you, Hazel.” I’m still confused until I hear the familiar buzz of a vibrator.

Oh.

Oh shit.

She…this…huh????? I can barely process what this actually means before I hear moans reverberating up from her throat, the pool of saliva around me starting to grow. I can feel her body start to shake with arousal, also starting to notice her tongue snaking back.

I’m able to stand up now, but it takes extra effort with how soaked I am in saliva. It’s heavy and slick, almost keeping me down. I can feel my clothes completely stuck to my body, making it very obvious that I’m hard. My heart rate and breathing are also picking up, both from shock and the resurgence of my arousal from before getting put in here.

Then her tongue leaps at me before I can react, pushing me against her gums repeatedly as I squirm to break free. It’s bigger than my entire body, each lick completely drenching me in more gooey spit. As much as I should be disgusted, this sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s so warm and wet and comfortable, sending tingles of pleasure from my crotch throughout my entire body. Her moans pick up with each lick as well, and I truly start to realize just what she meant when saying ‘I need you.’

Her tongue quickly gets more frantic and suggestive, lapping my entire lower body from my feet up to my crotch, and I already feel incredibly sensitive and brainless as the motions continue. I can’t help but join Jamie in moaning. Instinct overtaking me, I remove my clothes as best I can while being bombarded with wet sensations. I manage to get my shirt and bra off first, and Jamie quickly notices what I’m doing as she focuses her tongue movements towards my now exposed upper body instead. This makes her moan even louder, if that’s even possible at this point.

My pants come next, and this takes some effort given how wet and sticky they are, combined with the fact that I’m still being licked mercilessly against a giant row of teeth. When the pants are lowered enough to reveal my panties, Jamie moves her tongue back down to my crotch. With one less cloth barrier, the overwhelming sensations are too much to handle, and I orgasm. I can feel my panties grow even wetter despite how soaked they already are. Jamie stops for a moment, taking in the taste of my leakage as it drips down my thighs and into the pool of saliva below me. Her tongue feeling me up as I continue to leak honestly feels so pathetic, and I can’t help but whimper.

Once Jamie finally realizes just what she’s tasting, she goes feral. Her tongue picks me up and shoves me over to her molars, placing me down carefully only to bite specifically at my pants and panties to rip them off. I’m finally completely naked. I’m then forcefully sent sliding towards her lips, pushed through so that my upper body dangles out of her mouth while my legs stay inside. She has her lips pressed tightly against my crotch, and she begins sucking on me while simultaneously licking relentlessly at my taint. It’s too much, sliding back and forth on her lips like this, grinding against such intense moisture, feeling that giant tongue absolutely lick me clean. I can’t think straight.

My vision is blurry in the light after having been in darkness for so long, but I can see Jamie vibing her clit. She’s shaky and wet, her frantic breaths pushing against my body as I rest my upper half against her lower lip.

I already feel close to a second orgasm, but then Jamie’s vibrator turns off. Her mouth opens wide, tongue licking her lips while I’m dragged along against her skin underneath. I’m then plucked up by my legs, dangling in front of her face. I am completely drenched, drop after drop of saliva falling down and hitting her body. We’re both breathing heavy, faces red. She looks at me, and from my upside down view I can see her smile before I’m sent down between her thighs.

Warm. That’s the first word that comes to mind. I’m shoved against her clit, and I immediately start humping. We’re both completely soaked so the grinding is smooth. Jamie’s moans from high above me reverberate through my ears, and I can feel her get wetter by the second. Her grip doesn’t let up, and she actually starts to rub me against her forcefully. She doesn’t need her vibrator now, she can just use me. I cum again, becoming even more slicked up as I’m slid up and down across her crotch. I can’t tell whether I’m more covered in her saliva or my cum anymore, I’m too brainless and soaked to process. She is in complete control of me; I’ve become nothing but her glorified sex toy.

She starts tensing, squeezing her thighs together tightly, and she quickly shoves me inside her hole. It’s a similar environment to the mouth but far more constrictive. Oppressive. Her walls push against me as I squirm and stimulate her, barely being able to breathe from her scent and moisture completely overpowering me.

Finally, she cums, and I hold my breath as I am once again completely drenched in her. I manage to get pushed out right in between her thighs, stuck pressed there until she unclenches. It’s all so much, so many new and euphoric sensations. I’m breathing heavier than I’ve ever breathed before, feeling like I might pass out at any moment. Yet I cannot stop myself from huffing her scent like my life depends on it, cannot slow my racing heart after everything that just happened to me.

When she unclenches, I do not go sliding down her thigh. Rather, I remain stuck there, practically webbed by the saliva and cum I’ve quickly become accustomed to being drenched in. Strings of fluid connect me to her other leg. I want more. I can get an explanation later, I just need to be back in her mouth again. Back inside her. I already feel myself start to dry up and I whine, trying to squirm out of the adhesive I’m trapped in.

I hear a breathless chuckle from above as I am carefully ripped from my prison, once again left dangling in front of Jamie’s face.

“Wow, so d-desperate for more? I g-g-guess I was right. You are a fun little toy.” She stutters and takes deep breaths as she speaks, likely just as brainless from pleasure as I am.

“P-please put me back in your mouth. I need—I need to feel your tongue again.” I blush furiously at the plea, already feeling myself ready to cum again. This is so fucked.

“Of course, Hazey. Anything for you.” And with that, Jamie opens her mouth and drops me inside once again.

Feeling the warmth of her breath and saliva is a comfort I could never take for granted. Her tongue is gentler this time, hums of approval ringing from her throat as she savors every taste of me. I let myself relax for a bit as she feels me up, catching my breath while still feeling highly aroused from the licking. Once my heart rate is under control, I slowly stand and wrap my body around her tongue as best I can. I then begin to thrust myself into it over and over again, my cock sliding against the impossibly warm and slick surface. It feels amazing.

A chuckle sounds from Jamie’s throat as I hump, and I feel her body rise as she begins to—presumably—clean up. I’ve gone from a sex toy to a simple form of stimulation for her mouth. A thing to mindlessly flick around and play with while she goes around and focuses on other tasks. The thought makes me blush ever so slightly more.

I feel myself get close to a third orgasm, but her tongue quickly goes back to overpowering me, pushing me towards her molars once again. This time, however, she bites down on me. Not enough to injure or kill me, but enough to keep me trapped with just enough pain that I still feel good. My lower body is facing her tongue, but I cannot see what it’s actually doing. From the feel of it, it doesn’t seem like she’s doing anything to me anymore. Is she just going to leave me here? Prevent me from reaching the orgasm I was so close to? My train of thought is interrupted, however, when her tongue suddenly goes to fondle my crotch and taint. The surprise of receiving such overwhelming sensations out of nowhere makes me moan loudly, feeling myself just on the edge of cumming.

But. Then she stops again. Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

She repeats this process multiple times: fondling me by surprise only to stop just before I orgasm. No matter how much I try to squirm out of her teeth, how much I try to maneuver my arms to touch myself, it’s no use. I quickly become brainless and whiny, eventually deciding to cry out pleas for her to let me cum.

After enough begging, she finally relents, licking me once again but this time without stopping. I’m still trapped under her molars, but I thrash around wildly as I’m finally able to let myself go all over her tongue. I all but scream as the feeling fills my body. I don’t care how embarrassing it may sound, all I can focus on is releasing my pent up pleasure all over her. I feel each burst of cum exit me, all of which bringing more and more pangs of overwhelming euphoria. More and more pathetic sounds. I feel elated. Wet, shaky, dizzy, and elated.

As I come down from the climax, her teeth let me go. I look at my body to see massive red teeth marks across my chest. Woah. I try to stand up, but I’m so shaky and filled with pleasure that I immediately fall over. Her tongue takes that as an opportunity to pick me up and bring me towards her lips. Her mouth opens and I am released once again, only this time her tongue slowly angles down so that I slide off into her cupped hands below.

She holds my small and soaked body tenderly as I regain my senses, raising her hands so I’m at eye level. I look at her face and am shocked to see tears falling down rapidly.

“I’m sorry Hazel! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m s—“

“Hey hey hey! I’m okay! I don’t know what that was, but I feel fine. Good, even!” I try to comfort her, sitting up and gently rubbing her palm with my hand. “Although, I would like to ask…why? Why did you do all this?” Sue me, I wanna know.

Jamie sniffs, the tears not slowing down. “I—I—I’m in love with you, Hazel.”

I freeze, and for a moment my heart stops. I say nothing, and she continues.

“And—and I was too afraid to ask you out or admit my feelings because you’re so…” She looks closely at me now, eyes filled with stars at the sight of me. ME?? “…you. I’ve loved you for a while now; your smile, your voice, your authenticity, your laugh, your jokes, your absolute beauty, even your stupid fucking movie obsession.” I wet chuckle at that, feeling tears falling down my eyes as well. “You are the only person I ever want to love, Hazel…and I ruined it. I got too desperate. I used you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I stand up now, and gesture for her to move me closer to her face. She complies, and once I’m close enough I rush to hug her cheek. I really start bawling now, so overwhelmed from the affection.

“I—I’ve loved every moment spent with you, Jamie! You’re so fucking smart and funny and sweet and an absolute dumbass. There isn’t a part of you I don’t want to cherish. I…I love you too.” I manage to get out through sobs, feelings I had no idea were there finally coming up to the surface. “To be honest…I didn’t think you’d ever want to be with, well, someone like me.” I step back from her cheek now, wrapping my arms around myself in a pitiful hug.

Jamie bends her head forward, pressing a giant but soft kiss onto my head as I cry. “Oh, Hazel…you know that doesn’t bother me. I mean shit, I watched by your side as you slowly become the person you’ve always wanted to be. It’s admirable! You’ve become so much happier and genuine with yourself. So much prettier. How could I not love you?”

I full on wail at that, and she presses me close to her chest as I sob. The rhythmic beats of her heart slowly calm me down, and my breathing eventually begins to level.

“Do—do you mean that, Jamie?” I clutch her shirt as I brace for the inevitable ‘Just kidding! You’re gross!’

But it never comes.

“Every word, Hazel. I want to love you for the rest of our lives.” She gently takes one of her hands to rub the back of my head as I quietly cry into her shirt.

“So do I.” I manage to get out, and I feel her heart stutter ever so slightly.

“You mean that? Even after…what I did?” Jamie sounds nervous, just as afraid of rejection as I was. But she never has to worry about that. Not with me.

“I do. I really mean it. I could never hate you or leave you. I never want to spend a moment without you in my life.” I press a kiss onto her chest. “Besides, I was into it.” I full on laugh and Jamie can’t help but laugh too.

“Oh and I’m the dumbass?” She holds me even closer to her body, seemingly never letting go any time soon. Good.

When we both stop crying after a while, Jamie is the first to speak again. “So…do you want me to grow you back to normal size?” From a nearby window, I can see it’s dark out now. I am exhausted.

“Can…can I stay like this for the night? Sleep on your chest?” It was an embarrassing request, but I knew she wouldn’t care. She would probably tease me a bit though.

“Awww! You are adorable!” Speak of the devil. “Of course you can stay small tonight…though I think I accidentally swallowed your clothes.” I chuckle at her guilty expression, and resolve to just stay naked to sleep…as long as I can dry off first.

After we both get ready, Jamie lays down in her bed, and I rest in my position next to her heart, her hand serving as a blanket for me. This was an absolutely confusing and…surprising start to our relationship, and I had no idea what the days ahead would bring, but I knew we would figure it out.

I smile as the warmth of her body and pulses of her heart lull me to sleep.

~

Shoutout to my wife @flowers-but-gay for being my smart dumbass and describing how a shrink ray would potentially work only for me to dumb it down 😭

Also shoutout to Eve @specksizedgoddess for brushing the dust off my g/t kink and getting me back into writing

#(ro)s(e)mut #hazel & jamie #i am actually the most normal ever #g/t #g/t mouthplay #g/t fearplay #giant/tiny #nsft #g/t nsft #dubcon

[bisonaari]

So!! How is Finland going so far for me?

If you've talked to me in the past days you've probably heard all of this so I'm sorry in advance, you can skip the post hahaha !

First of all: the temperature is the same as in Canada HAHAHA. Sure it's currently a bit colder, but nothing that would be unusual in winter in Canada. So we've been perfectly ok with our usual winter clothes!

We had troubles locating our airbnb when we arrived. But we've been helped by @katinkulta and @taidotonheiluja and everything went ok in the end! I have to admit that because of the stress, the lack of sleep, the fact that I don't speak finnish and the travel time, the first two days I REALLY wanted to just go back home hahaha. But I'm better don't worry. I'm just an anxious bean

The day after that, I've been helped by Elsa again (my saviour) and she went grocery shopping with me and my partner, so we finally got food! (I don't eat a lot when I'm stressed, but my partner is, surprisingly enough, a normal human being who needs to eat. Weird)

Elsa is absolutely lovely and I really adore her company. She's as much fun as she is on the internet! A blessing to have her as a friend <3

The day after that was UMK! We met with Elsa again and with @teal-skull to have breakfast together before the rehearsal started. WHY IS EVERY MUTUAL I MEET SO FREAKING NICE??? This will apply to every single person mentionned in this post because everyone is a sweetheart seriously!

This is also the moment where I realized that I just could… throw a "puhutko englantia" when speaking to employees at stores YES I KNOW IT TOOK ME TWO DAYS BUT I AM VERY DUMB WHEN I'M ANXIOUS OK so I did that and WOW SURPRISE!! The employees said yes and switched to english!! INCREDIBLE, RIGHT. Urgh I'm so dumb hahaha

The UMK rehearsal was incredibly fun, I've seen almost all the artists that I wanted to see in Finland good I can now leave and never come back (that's a lie). But like KUUMAA, Benjamin, Käärijä (with JUKKA !!! ON STAGE!! IN FRONT OF ME), Erika Vikman, Pilvi Hämäläinen (she counts ok), and all the UMK contestants were people who I wanted to see live so bad, and now it's done I'm super happy. I've seen Cha Cha Cha live!!!!

After the rehearsal we met with @omppupiiras @formulalakana and @smimon to go get food together <3 What is funny is that no one knew what the others looked like, but I'm so easily recognisable that we were able to find each other anyway lol

I'm so thankful for everyone that I've met so far. Also other friends that manifested in dms to help me if I needed it! Like @because-its-eurovision for example <3

Some things that surprised my partner and I in Finland so far:

I've said it to a lot of people but the trains are so silent??? Like in Québec, you can hear the metro a few minutes before you can actually see it arrived. Here we've been JUMPSCARED by sudden trains we didn't hear arrive???

Dish drying cabinets my beloved. How did I live before you??? This is SO useful holy shit

The food is so expensive ;A; I was expecting it to be more expensive, but not by that much hahaha. I guess we're gonna eat a lot of pasta during our trip hahaha

I love how pedestrian friendly the city is (I've only been in Tampere so far). The sidewalks are double the size I'm used to in Montréal! You can walk to anywhere, there are tons of trams and buses, this is fantastic (I'm too anxious to take the tram and the bus though lol)

See you in a while for another update!!

#bison talks

[drawingdroid]

The Unknown Regions IV

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Read Chapter 3

This chapter is rated +18! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(

Word count: 3,745

A/N: Din and you have a misunderstanding and actually talk openly about it like ADULTS! I love fiction!!! Finally, smut is here dear readers, I hope you enjoy it. I've struggled like crazy to write this chapter bc smut felt forced and I wanted a smoooth transition. I am not super happy with the result, but hey, I need to know when to let go. I've been thinking this would be interesting from Din's pov too, lemme know what you think. And yes, I know I don't respond to any comments I love reading them but anxiety kills me when I hit reply! I'm so sorry!!!

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

You were so focused on your calculations that you didn't notice Din observing you. Leaning against the doorframe casually, the bounty hunter had his gaze fixated on you. He was stealthy for such a big man, so when his gloved hand gently touched your shoulder your heart skipped a beat.

“¡Mando!” You jumped from your seat. He immediately retrieved his touch as if he had been burnt.

“Sorry I…I didn't want to startle you.”

He looked so uncomfortable right now you felt bad for him. Well, had seemed uncomfortable around you for the two weeks you had been travelling together, so that wasn’t new. You were sure your presence around the ship had prevented him from relaxing at all. It was normal, its size had you clashing with each other all the time and it didn’t provide any privacy. And the Razor Crest, you have learnt, was also his home. Well, his and Grogu's.

He told you about the little one a night he was being especially silent. The moon you had stopped at looked inhabited and arid. He commented it was similar to Arvala-7, the planet where he found the child. After that, you listened while he spoke about how he met his son. His beautiful voice was full of pain and you ended up offering your hand for relief and support. He was hesitant but ended up accepting your warm touch.

Since then, casual physical contact had been a constant between you. With the days passing, you grew bolder with it, no longer squishing yourself to prevent your bodies from touching in the tight space of the Crest, and more like rubbing your plush body against his armour. A friendly hand on his shoulder, his on the small of your back. Therere were brief moments that made your heart flutter at the contact.

The truth was that living together had only made your initial attraction to him grow: observing such a mighty warrior performing the little tasks of day-to-day life was somewhat endearing. The things you could learn about someone just by looking at them at their little routines were incredible. You realized he was a methodical, goal-oriented man, and although he looked serious he did things like speaking with his ship when you wouldn't notice. He was also very caring, not only about Grogu but also his covert, the name he used to refer to the other Mandalorians he lived among. And he had the highest respect for his culture and his creed, something you really admired about him. Every day, you hoped he admired you back, too.

“Don’t worry about it, I tend to become so self-absorbed when I work I forget my surroundings.” You fidgeted nervously with your hair, feeling the burn of his gaze, until his visor shifted to the nav system. “Oh, I calculated the coordinates for the final jump and double-checked them. It’ll take around 30 standard hours to arrive there.” 

Since you were travelling towards uncharted space, you couldn’t just jump to the planet, even though you knew the coordinates it was reckless without knowing the obstacles you could possibly meet, so it was more sensible to do it on shorter jumps.

“Let me check.” Mando leaned towards the console, supporting himself in his strong arms. You hoped your gasp at his sudden closeness wasn’t too audible.

“Are you doubting my calculations?” You meant to sound sassy but your voice came shaky. He was too close, hovering over you while checking the route. If your body wasn’t covered due to the cold of outer space, he could have noticed the goosebumps his proximity provoked.

“You can't drive a ship.” He deadpanned. You didn't feel bad about his affirmation, it was a fact. You had never had the opportunity to learn.

“I know my numbers, Mando.” You retorted, confident in your ability. He stared at you while you tried to remain unbothered. The truth was that the banter and his physical closeness had you a little flushed.  His gaze finally left you to resume checking the panel and you rolled your eyes, although you understood his doubts. After all, his child and his ship were at stake 

“This is flawless.” He admitted after a while, turning his helmet to you again.”Good job.” You opened your eyes widely at the praise and observed his muscular frame towering over you. His beskar looked beautiful, reflecting the starry space. He looked beautiful.

“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” You responded in a small voice, swallowing hard. 

Neither of you moved for a while and you sighed involuntarily.  With how close you were, you could just lean on him as you had been longing to do. To be embraced by his big arms. He sighed, his visor not leaving your frame. You wondered if he felt the pull too. He had to. The magnetic field was just too strong.

“Mando…” He shifted his position, coming even closer to you. You could observe your doe-eyed reflection in his Beskar helmet. He raised his gloved hand and reached for your round shoulder again. This time his touch was gentler than ever and his orange thumb caressed your clothed skin. Mouth dry, you wondered what would his next step be.

“I need…my seat to make the jump.” 

The spell broke. Your brain was not computing. You swore you could die right there from the embarrassment. Of course, you were sitting on the pilot's chair. He only wanted your fat ass to move. And you thought you were having a moment. What an idiot, fantasizing about embracing him or whatever, when he only wanted to resume the trip to get to his son as soon as possible.

Clumsily, you stood up, your face hot with embarrassment. Inevitably, your bodies rubbed in the tiny space. You were a big woman, he was practically on you and the cockpit wasn’t precisely ample.

“Of course.” 

The feeling was all-consuming and you rushed towards the sliding door, abandoning the cockpit in a heartbeat. You couldn’t see how a very confused Mando observed you leaving, asking himself how he had offended you.

Tears of embarrassment stained your cheeks when you managed to curl inside the bunk. Mando had been so kind to let you sleep there, and you had been loving it. The first night you couldn't help yourself and used your fingers to make you cum three times. His masculine fragrance was everywhere. It was like being embraced by him and your imagination was an overactive one. 

But now, having his scent kriffing everywhere wasn’t helping to deflect the feeling of rejection that had taken you. Why were you being like this? Of course, it wasn’t the first time you were turned down. Or the tenth. By now, you should be used to it. But nevertheless, it hurt a lot. 

All your life, you were always the clever, bright friend. The daughter who didn’t cause trouble. The gentle and caring one. But you were never called beautiful. Even by your romantic partners. They may say things about how they loved your “fat ass” or “big tits” but this didn’t make you feel pretty but just objectified, and especially, not truly seen as a sentient being. The worst of your male companions even complained about your size and how they weren’t able to manhandle you as they would have done with a smaller woman. You knew this was rooted in their deepest insecurities and how being perceived as smaller than their partner affected their self-esteem... But what about yours?

The truth was that Mando’s gesture (or lack of it) hadn’t been so hurtful, but the stream of memories it triggered, and now you found yourself sobbing under his sheets. When you felt the familiar blow of entering hyperspace, you only hoped that he remained in the cockpit and let you hide for the rest of the trip. But he didn’t.

First, you heard the familiar footsteps coming down from the ladder. He cleared his throat and then knocked softly at the bunk's door. Your blood froze.

“Hey I'm…I'm sorry.” You could clearly hear these weren't words he said often or lightly. A knot formed in your stomach but the tears stopped.

“It 's okay.” You responded with a raspy voice from the crying.

“No, I shouldn't have doubted your route. You're the professional.”

You couldn't decide between bursting into laughter or crying again. He was clueless, wasn't he? Maybe you could just roll with that and hide your true feelings. It was a good opportunity and it’ll save you from an uncomfortable moment. But you weren't the kind of person to do that.

“Mando, do you really think I'm mad because of that?” A pensive hum was his only response.

The bunk's door opened and a very confused warrior appeared right in front of you. Your eyes were red but your smile was bright. You felt your heart hammering inside your chest. He looked so helpless, all his self-assurance gone because of your tears. You sighed, gathering the courage to speak.

“In the cockpit, there was a moment when you were very close to me...” Mando immediately stiffened.

“I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable because of that. I thought…” His voice was strained through the modulator. You shook your head.

“I'm the one who misunderstood the situation, Mando.” You stared at him but it was clear his metal head wasn't computing. “ You were almost all over me. I thought something was going to happen. Between us.” You had to clarify.

The gears inside the helmet started turning and finally, you could see those broad shoulders relax a bit.

“You expected…you wanted something to happen between us?” He asked using your own words. You bit your lip unsure, but you were already too far gone to stop this.

“Yes Mando, I really like you and what happened in the cockpit made me feel rejected. That's why I was mad.” This time you tried to explain yourself clearly as you didn't want more misunderstandings, even though your skin felt like molten lava. Mando remained silent for a while, shifting his weight and finally took a step towards the bunk, putting a hand against the frame of the door.

“Why would I reject you?” 

“What?” It wasn't possible you had heard that right.

“You've understood me perfectly.” His voice turned darker and commanding. You swallowed at the sudden change of demeanour. 

“I don't know. Many have rejected me before. It made sense.” You felt vulnerable and hugged your knees trying to appear smaller unconsciously. Opening up about your fear of rejection wasn't in your plans today. “Where I come from, being overweight is frowned upon.” You added in a small voice, ashamed of your feelings.

“Di’kute!” He grunted the foreign word, audibly angry. To your surprise, he sat next to you inside the cot and grabbed your hand. “You're a gorgeous woman, mesh’la. They were bantha fodder if they couldn't appreciate you.”

It may have been your already sensitive state, but tears came again to you. His faceless stare burnt you, as well as his body heat inside the tiny space. But he continued with the praise without letting go of your hand.

“Where I come from fat is a good signal. It means health, and strength. Extra padding in battle.” You giggled but he was serious. “It's synonymous with peace and not living off ration bars. It means giving birth to healthy younglings.” He added the last point in a raspier voice and you stopped breathing thinking about the meaning behind those words. 

“Mando…”

“Come here mesh’la.” You didn't recognise the last word but obeyed and the next moment you were in his lap. “Can I touch you?” His voice sounded kinder this time, less commanding. Your heart was going to explode.

“Please.” 

And then his hands were all over you. Tracing the outline of your curves, grabbing the supple flesh of your tights, grazing over your generous bust. The touch was so intoxicating, passionate but slow, as if he wanted desperately to memorize your shape.

“Your body is precious, I'll put a hole between the eyes of whoever made you feel the opposite.” You had never felt aroused by violence, but Mando's voice whispering that in your ear made things to you. It felt so hot inside the bunk by then you felt the necessity to get rid of your clothing. Nevertheless, in spite of Mando's praise, you doubted when you grabbed the hem of your tunic. He sensed your hesitancy. “Are you gonna show me that beautiful armour padding?”

You giggled, amused by how playful he became in bed, and finally removed the piece of clothing. His sharp breath was everything you needed to hear.

“Like what you see Mando?” You teased, discarding the tunic and feeling a bit more confident because of his reaction. While he was a victim of a momentary paralysis, you took your chance to caress his biceps where any armour protected his skin. He was as hard as Beskar there and you thought this warrior could be the first to actually manhandle you. That thought only contributed to the heat growing in your centre dangerously.

“Dank Farrik I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you after this.” His voice sounded pained behind the vocoder while he appreciated your soft body.

“Then don’t.” You coed, and then guided his hands to your breasts that were spilling from your bra dangerously. Mando exhaled loudly as if all the tension he had been holding the last weeks was released. His gloved thumbs found your nipples fast, the stiff material feeling so good against your sensitive peaks. “Don’t be afraid, you can be rougher with them.”

Mando actually moaned at your honeyed words and you couldn’t name a more heavenly sound. He explored your tits with devotion, giving them all the attention in the world until your nipples couldn’t be harder and your breathing more agitated. But then, after some time hovering over his legs, yours started to feel numb from sustaining the position so you had to move a bit to feel your muscles again.

“Sorry, my legs went numb.” You excused yourself, but in a heartbeat, his hands shifted to your plush hips and you got the hint. 

“Sit.”

“I’ll crush you.” Looking away, your previous self-confidence cracked a bit after his petition. You were too heavy, he will be uncomfortable and then…

“I carry bounties three times my weight for a living.” With the cocky affirmation, he interrupted your racing thoughts before spiralling. “I’ll be okay.”

You haven’t seen him in action yet, but the image of the Mandalorian manoeuvring a bounty out of pure strength made you shiver, yielding to his command. But you wouldn’t drown without dragging him with you.

“Stars woman!” He grunted when your clothed cunt made contact with his bulge. Not satisfied enough with that, you rolled your hips a couple of times to torture him further. Your plan backfired, as it provoked both of you to moan in unison.

“You wanted me…to sit.” You sassed between laboured breaths. Mando growled in response, but his hands travelled to your behind until they were grabbing a handful of your round ass.

“Do you know where else I’d want you to sit?” His voice was raspier than ever, the desire on it crystal clear to you. He really wanted you.

“Mando!” This playful side of him was unexpected but you were loving every moment of it. He took advantage of his leverage to move you impossibly closer to him, making you squirm when your sensitive nipples touched the colder beskar of his cuirass. Your hands snaked around his thick neck and you found yourself completely squished against your huge warrior. His erection felt so hot and hard between your legs that your cunt only grew wetter and wetter, making you wonder if he could notice. Then he started to move and soon you were moaning in the crook of his neck, grinding like a loth-cat in heat.

“Please mesh’la, let me make you feel as good as you deserve.” All the cockiness of his tone was done when he asked you with the most laboured breathing. His hands started caressing your spine and back rolls and you were a puddle in his strong arms. 

“Let me…let me get up to remove my pants.” He indeed let you, but his hands didn´t, and while you stood to remove the last of your clothes, he continued exploring your body completely mesmerized. “Mando, I can’t undress if you don’t put your hands away!” You giggled standing on the threshold of the bunk waiting for him to realize. His helmet turned up to look at you then as if he was weighing his possibilities.

“Allow me to undress you, please.” The tone of his plead made you shiver and your cunt walls spasm. Your noded suddenly shy and the next moment he was on his knees unfastening your boots. Maker, what a sight.

When he finished with your footwear, he removed your shocks and started caressing your ankles, going up your calves painfully slowly until he finally reached the waistband of your pants. By then, you were shivering out of pure anticipation. But he still took the time to discard first your pants leaving you in your soaked underwear. He stopped and removed his hands for you to your surprise. Maybe he was having second thoughts? Maybe he didn’t like what he saw?

Your thoughts didn’t spiral for long, as Mando started removing his gloves still kneeling at your feet. Your eyes went wide: it was the first time you saw any of his skin. Gloves finally apart, you could appreciate it was a beautiful hue of gold before his thumbs were hooked in your panties. Without seeing his expression, you could feel the reverence in every touch Of his. It was like you were something holy and he was praying at your shrine. Then it hit you: this wasn’t just a fuck for both of you. This will change things.

“You’re drenched mesh’la.” The last piece of clothing was finally removed and his curious hands didn’t take long to open the folds of your glistening cunt. You looked away a bit embarrassed but he assured you. “You’re so beautiful and soft I can't help myself but...”

Then he did the most surprising thing. With his fingers covered with your slick, he went to the inferior part of his helmet and made disappear. He yas kriffing tasting you.

“Dank Farrik and you taste heavenly too.” Things became fast in a moment. He suddenly stood up in all his imposing height, totally covered in contrast with your nakedness, grabbed your but and in a heartbeat was lifting you from the floor. You squirmed in surprise, your legs rapidly snaking around his tapered waist, feeling all the whole glory of his erection against your pussy. He then turned in his heels and laid you in his bed delicately. But you weren’t playing tame anymore.

“Mando, I need you please.” Your plea was accompanied by a roll of your hips against the bulge on his pants, and you moaned at the sensation of the harsh fabric against the sensitive skin there. Mando grunted at the contact and obeyed you, removing his crossbody ammo belt. You continued the grinding while he battled with the straps of his hip belt, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock, until the leather piece full of pouches hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Finally, his hot hands were all over you again and he leaned over your body. But then, he froze in place. You looked at him quizzically when you heard something metallic rolling on the floor. Maybe something important? Maker, you knew he kept bombs on the belt…

“Wait,” he said, leaving you naked in the bunk where you experienced the worst ten seconds of your life thinking you were going to be blown away before having sex with the Mandalorian. But his absence was brief, and he returned with a spherical object between his golden fingers. Something you didn’t recognize at all.

“Is it a bomb?” You asked clueless. He chucked but there was something off about it. 

“It’s from a lever in the cockpit.” You sighed in relief knowing your life or his weren’t in danger. Noticing how he wouldn’t stop looking at the metal ball, you knew he wasn’t okay. Finding your tuning between the mess of sheets and blankets, you put it on and sat on the edge of the cot. You didn’t feel annoyed because the intimate moment was interrupted: it was clear something was disturbing him.

“Hey, Mando, look at me.” You asked, holding his bare wrists most delicately. He flinched at the contact and you noticed his pulse was derailed. Then he looked at you like he had just noticed you were there and started apologising.

“I’m so sorry I…” It looked like he didn’t even know how to start explaining himself. You’ll say he sounded even embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m not upset. We don’t have to continue if you don’t feel like it.” His shoulders slumped and his gaze fixated again on the ball. And then you noticed, by the light shivering of his torso. He was crying. Your heart broke in a thousand pieces. “Come here, baby.”  You cooed, opening your arms to the Mandalorian, hoping you could offer some relief to whatever he was experiencing. 

To your surprise, he fell to his knees again and then sank his helmet into your lap. His shoulders were convulsing more visibly now and your chest hurt for him. You started caressing the back of his neck, hoping it felt soothing for him, and remained like that for a while.

“I’ve got you baby.”

You didn’t know how much time it passed with Mando sobbing against your tunic and you doing your best to make him feel better, but after a while, it looked like he was calmer.

“I already lost him once.” His voice was coarse from crying, and even though the lack of context you knew immediately he was referring to Grogu.

“We’ll find him and take him home, Mando.” You responded softly, feeling something warm spread inside you and not stopping for a second your caresses.

“Din.” He finally unburied his head from your lap and looked at you. “My name is Din Djarin.”

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #grogu #din grogu #the mandalorian x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #droidwrites

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Tender | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader with chronic fatigue

✦ word count— 3.6k

✦ summary— snippets of life with chronic fatigue while dating Damian.

✦ warnings— light angst, depictions of chronic illness/disability, mentions of food, nudity implied in a non-sexual context, mentions of meds and doctors, fluff.

✦ author's note— this fic was comissioned through donation.

════════════════════════

Rain hadn't made its appearance this month; worrisome for a city like Gotham where rain seemed to be a permanent fixture.

You couldn't remember a night without rain in the past three years, or such a hot morning for that matter. So this was a first in a long time, therefore you were somewhat unprepared.

It was your fault for not checking the weather app the night before and it was the climate's fault for not giving you a truce. Although if you were to go there, we all knew the actual people responsible for the changing climate — for most problems, to an extent.

You left the bed slowly, trying not to make noise. Damian was awake already, probably training, yet you didn't want him to know you were too.

His help was always welcomed, and treasured, and he gave it with joy and ease. You hadn't imagined he would be as thoughtful or patient — you knew him to be kind, definitely nicer than he pretended to be, but this was different.

He took it so seriously, too, consulting people whose actual job was to be caregivers had been his first move and you were a tad ashamed to admit it shocked you. A part of you had wanted him to do it, but you expected him to simply read a book and go from there. And read he did, but he didn't stop there; you didn't understand how at the time.

You understood why: he loved you. But the how was elusive with everything he had on his shoulders. It would have been so easy for him to simply pay somebody to take care of you and go on with his routine, but it seemed that the thought never crossed his mind.

Showers were a little easier now that you lived with him and got to use a bigger bathroom. You tried not to rely on the shower bench too much in the mornings, partially scared you would get sleepy too early.

Damian was back from training by the time you were about to choose a pair of shoes. His hair was damp and apart from his shoe-less feet, he was ready for work too.

"You should still take a jacket."

"I hate carrying things around."

He pinched his nose. "I will take it with me, then." At your questioning look, he added, "I will be picking you up from work today."

"You don't have to. Caroline likes driving me home."

Caroline was your favorite coworker and it wasn't just because she would eat lunch with you and drive you home from work. She was just pleasant to be around, never overbearing when it came to your symptoms, and the only one who kindly woke you up after your scheduled naps.

Damian sat next to you on the grey loveseat. He picked up the top you had decided against and folded it, something you had never been able to do without a surface. "I just want you to be ready for Friday."

"I am ready, Damian."

"Fine." He leaned to kiss the side of your head.

════════════════════════

You sometimes wondered if driving was really all that fulfilling. It seemed stressful from the passenger seat. Or maybe those were your nerves speaking.

Turns out you weren't ready for your medical appointment on Friday.

"Do you want me to go in there with you?"

"I think so."

You knew how lucky you were that you had a partner who was willing to do this, somebody who cleared his schedule for your comfort. Damian must have been aware that doctors took him more seriously than they did you, or that they only believed the things you said once he corroborated them or added more details.

He opened the door for you and offered his hand to help you out of the car. You took it without a second thought, not trusting yourself or the wonky pavement underneath.

Damian rested his hand on your lower back, steadying you as your wobbly legs carried you into the building.

Bouts of pain generally made their appearance when you had appointments. Out of stress, the doctor explained. It made sense, but along came drowsiness and you wished you could simply skip one appointment or two from time to time.

Of course you never said as much. It would be pointless, honestly; Damian would simply force the doctor to see you at home and the same stress, drowsiness, and overall tiredness would keep their chokehold on you.

You always spoke more when Damian was there, and when you struggled to remember something, he filled in the blanks. He carried your tracker with him, and the diary he had started on his own for good measure. The doctor always asked if he was taking care of himself too — you used to hate the question, seeing it as a reminder that you didn't really do a good job taking care of him in comparison to what he did for you; it took a long tearful conversation with Damian for you to understand he would always ask for attention if you weren't doing a good job at providing it.

"We have different needs," he had said in that incredibly infuriating yet attractive matter-of-fact tone of his.

The elevator traveled up smoothly, barely rattling when it landed on your floor. Damian let you out first and as quickly as you crossed the doors, his hand was already back on your body. It was almost a reflex of his, he did it even when you weren't in pain, a simple 'I'm here'.

You sighed in relief as you kicked your shoes off. As comfortable as they were, they were still restricting. Damian put the keys on the console table and before you could sit on the bench next to the table, he wrapped an arm around you and coaxed you into your shared bedroom.

The sheets had been changed that morning. The faint aroma of fabric softener lingered just enough to avoid a headache. Your sleeping clothes were neatly folded on the bench in front of the bed, with the basket Damian always kept full of snacks and where he hid notes for you to find.

His notes varied from encouraging words to doodles. with fragments of poems in between both extremes. You had taken the habit of texting short messages to him in return, sometimes silly things when you knew he would have a stressful day; other times reminders of how much loved him.

Your text chain would be incomprehensible for anybody but yourselves. You liked them. You liked that despite everything, you had that silly thing to laugh about, something mundane just for you and him.

Eyeing the clothes, you twisted your mouth. Your back was killing you. "Would you... help me?"

Damian dropped his cell phone onto the bedside table, still unlocked, white glare signaling he was in the middle of drafting an e-mail. "Hold onto something."

You did so, letting him take care of the rest. Not only did he take your pants off, which was the most painful part of getting changed this particular day, but guided your legs into a pair of cotton sleeping shorts one by one. You didn't even ask him help with your top yet Damian gently sat you on the bed and instructed you to lift your arms so you could wear your matching set.

Both of you undid the bed, he let you arrange your pillows to your need and only went back to pick his cell phone back up once you assured him you were comfortable. He handed you the remote, placed a bottle of water near you, and sat on his desk chair to continue whatever it was he was doing.

Your eyes grew heavy about 10 minutes into an episode of a show you started the past week. You had hoped you would hold on a little longer, maybe until Damian had to go.

"I will be back soon," Damian announced softly, prescription in his hand. "Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Some kind of dessert?"

He approached the bed. You braced yourself for a chastising reminder that you ate too much sugar sometimes. Damian leaned in and kissed your temple. "Take a nap, beloved, get some rest. I will wake you up when it's time for dinner."

════════════════════════

Some days, a dull ache woke you up, and trying to move became a whole odyssey. Breathing exercises worked well enough to give you the drive to try it again, but that didn’t mean you were always successful.

Others, you left the bed just fine just to find yourself needing to lay down an hour or so into your day.

Today, the sun was up in full, threading into the bedroom through the only slither left by the curtains. You had already texted your boss earlier to let them know you couldn’t go to work. You didn’t know if they had answered already or not.

You could hear pencil against paper, meaning Damian was sketching near the window.

“You’ll be late,” you reminded him.

He didn’t stop sketching as he answered, "I’m not going. My girlfriend is more important than a stupid meeting."

“Bruce—”

The mention of his father made him sigh, interrupting you. “He wishes for you to feel better soon.”

You grumbled. Both of them were as stubborn and you weren't about to waste your energy on fighting either of them right now.

“Do you want to change position?”

“I want to pee.”

Damian dropped the sketchbook and the pencil onto the sofa and walked toward the bed. Wordlessly, he helped you up and off the mattress.

You slowly made it to the bathroom, turning the light on just to be sure you wouldn't fall.

“Don’t close the door.”

“I know, Dami.”   You had been here many times before. He was always helpful, if not a little overbearing when it came to movement which you understood and often made things genuinely bearable.

Back on the bed, you drank water from your bottle.

Damian gave you that look that meant he wanted to say something yet knew it wasn't the time. You decided not to ask and laid down once again.

He handed you the remote in case you wanted to watch something, but the only thing you wanted was to sleep for a day or two.

Such an urge wasn't new, but you were kind enough to yourself not to ignore it when you could barely leave the bed.

"You should eat something."

There it was.

"Later," you pleaded.

You could almost hear him deflate. Still, Damian kissed your cheek and went back to the sofa, letting you try and get some sleep.

He would insist again later, no matter what you did, and you would probably get away with just having a smoothie. But you kept that to yourself, not only needing sleep out of tiredness but as a manner to pass the time.

Damian knew as much, he also knew there was nothing more he could do right now to help so he and his stubbornness focused on the sketch and only paused to watch you breathe.

════════════════════════

Panic coiled in Damian's stomach. Waking up to an empty bed at 5:00 in the morning was not only uncommon and worrisome, but one of his worst nightmares.

He always feared you would wander around the condo in the middle of the night only to fall asleep in an uncomfortable place or position, perhaps in pain, or both.

He padded his way along the hallway and checked the home office first. Your untouched desk, still donning the big water bottle he got you so you wouldn't use homework as an excuse for dehydration, wasn't as good of a sign as he hoped.

You weren't in any of the other bedrooms, nor the training room. He considered calling your parents, and as if you had visited them in the middle of the night; it wasn't insane to think you would miss your family. Yet his stomach sunk at the mere thought.

Had he done something wrong? Everything had been just fine before he left for patrol, you had even joked you would be awake waiting for him this time even though both of you knew you wouldn't last more than needed. He never expected such things from you, he didn't need them, a part of him didn't even want them because they would mean putting your health in jeopardy.

Damian found you in the kitchen. Sat on your stool, with your head tilted to the side and your mouth half-open, you read something on your phone.

He cleared his throat, but it didn't have its intended effect and you jumped. Your tired eyes bore into his and Damian almost sighed out of relief.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"It's Nicole's birthday."

He hummed. "You told me yesterday."

"I'm making her a cake. We have everything I need. Well, that's not true, but I can order everything else when the store opens and—" you interrupted yourself, frowning. You didn't like the way he was looking at you. "What?"

Inhaling deeply, he leaned his elbows on the island. Your eyes were on him and he would rather die than admit he was scared of upsetting you. He should have been past it, but he didn't know what to do sometimes. He couldn't simply forbid you from doing things, no matter how easy it might have made some situations in the long run.

"Wouldn't it be too extraneous?"

"Damian." Your 'are you fucking kidding me?' tone did nothing to placate him. "We have a stand mixer."

Right. The bulky ugly thing in the corner. He didn't mind having appliances on the countertops, no matter how bad they looked, it made things easier for you and that was all that mattered. He just specifically found the stand-mixer ugly.

"Just don't lift the bowl," he said, doing his best to not sound defeated. Your face lit up like a child who had just gotten just what they wanted for their birthday. "Call me when you're about to pour the batter. I'll do it."

Damian heard you opening and closing drawers and cupboards as he trained and although he paid more attention to the changing sounds than to what he was doing, he ended up drenched in sweat.

On his way to take a shower, he caught a snippet of the song you were humming as you moved around the kitchen and he could only hope your good spirit could last at least until noon.

The difficult parts never bothered him, nor doing the bulk of the work around the place. It wasn't like he did everything, the cleaning service came three times a week and you always left things as tidy as possible. But even if he had to do it all, he wouldn't be bothered.

He felt normal like this, useful. He liked doing things for you just like he had liked doing things for his mother when he was a child. Back then he thought that was what a man was supposed to do, protect, and provide to an extent. He didn't seek gender affirmation anymore, and he knew now he hadn't done anything for his mother out of a manly instinct; he simply loved her.

Much like he loved you albeit in a different way. Damian couldn't fathom himself without loving you, without being there for you. He had been born to fight and he had been reborn to care for you.

It wasn't always easy, he was the first to admit it. He didn't know what it was like to be in your shoes, he had no idea the kind of pain you were in or how heavy the fatigue you had to bear on your shoulders felt. He just hated that he couldn't take any of it away, that as much help as he could give, there should have been something more to do.

He grew tired sometimes. And you were oh so sweet about it, telling him to get some rest, pretending you didn't need help to get out of bed in the middle of the night just so he would go back to sleep. But Damian only slept well when you were comfortable, when things were normal to the standards you both had accorded.

At first, he had planned on being as strict as possible, to take care of everything so you wouldn't have to do anything. It didn't last. He couldn't live with the guilt that washed over him every time your face fell when he stopped you from doing something.

Learning to compromise had been the hardest thing he had done. And now here he was, about to bake a cake with you because it was your best friend's birthday.

He would do anything you asked him. It was a well-known fact about him. That meant indulging you sometimes, accepting things his brain told him weren't a good idea.

The loud stand-mixer greeted him back into the kitchen. You had a spatula in your hand, attention solely on the rotating flat beater.

"What were you going to do if I weren't here?"

You didn't speak until the mix was fully incorporated and the mixer was off. "Use a spoon."

"A spoon."

"Yes. Scoop little by little..."

He chuckled. "You are precious."

════════════════════════

"Take a break."

Damian had already walked away from you when you lifted your head to face the doorway. It wasn't an uncommon interaction. If you could call it as such.

Before you could even think to stand up, he was back with an unbreakable glass full of water. He set it on your desk, knowing full well you got nervous when people handed you things.

"I'm never finishing this," you sighed in frustration.

He stared at you, then at the glass. Once you picked the glass up and took a sip, he spoke, "Is it too difficult?"

"I can't focus. I'm not even halfway into the stupid paper, but I feel weird."

"Weird?"

"Like there's static in my head."

He nodded as though he understood. You both knew he didn't, not really.

"When is it due?"

"Monday."

You knew what he was thinking, 'What kind of professor would ever do that?' and the answer was quite simple: your least favorite professor.

Instead of asking anything about the awful faculty member of your college, he said, "We could do it this weekend."

"I'm not letting you do my homework."

"I have no intentions of doing your homework. I will help you focus, you will do it yourself."

"I had plans for our weekend."

He looked at you as though you had grown a second head. Plans weren't really a thing for both of you, not in the strict sense — a routine was needed, and medical appointments were non-negotiable, but apart from that, the mere idea of making plans was avoided.

"That movie you said looked interesting is on VOD. I thought we could watch it."

He visibly relaxed. Crisis averted. "We can watch it once your homework is done."

"You have things to do at night."

"Before patrol, beloved." Damian put his hand on your shoulder, leaning into your personal space to rest his head on top of yours as he continued making plans, "We will do your homework then take a nap, have lunch, watch the movie..."

You welcomed his touch, pressing your back to the chair just to have him a little closer. "Yeah?"

He hummed, nuzzling into your hair. "It will be a good weekend."

════════════════════════

Damian ignored your greeting as he crossed the bedroom to enter the bathroom. You heard the water running and decided to let it go, going back to the notes you had taken earlier. You had a note-taking system now, after many trials and errors, but that didn't mean things always stuck.

In all honesty, you were doing your best not to fall asleep. Between the sound of the water and the cozy blankets you were under, the words started to jumble. Your heavy eyes were begging to close and you almost gave in, but the bathroom door opened and Damian caught your attention again.

He sat on the bed, glanced at your notes, then turned to the side to put his phone to charge.

"Bad day?"

"Terrible."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He laid on his back, facing the ceiling.

You couldn't help the sigh that escaped you. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just be here."

You removed your notes from the bed. "I'm here."

He shifted to rest his head on your shoulder. The conversation was over. The awareness that came with living with him was different from anything you had experienced before, and his vulnerability was different than anyone else's.

You didn't think he was scared of it, not when it came to you, but he wasn't fond of it either. It wasn't difficult to see why. But you liked how it manifested, almost as second nature.

You almost cried the first time he swallowed his pride and admitted he couldn't understand what you were going through. He saw it, he paid attention to it, but he couldn't feel it. And it was so worth it, enough for you to understand truly what you meant to him.

If Damian was somebody else, or if he loved you any less, that would have been the first and the last time he admitted to not knowing everything.

You took his hand, bringing it close to your face. You kissed his bruised knuckles, careful not to move the bandage.

He sighed. Damian shuffled on the bed to lay on his side, head on your shoulder as he let you hold his hand for as long as you wanted.

Putting your free hand on the back of his head, you buried your fingers into his damp hair. He nuzzled into you, barely humming to assure you he was comfortable.

For the first time in your entire relationship, he fell asleep before you.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x plus size reader

[wishful-seeker]

Hi! Really like you "Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist" post but is it possible to make plain text version?

Am not sure what the color text says

(Plain text just means regular size + no color text + not cap lock)

Of course! Here ya go:

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist:

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Example:

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

Example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making you uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

Example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

Example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

Example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

Is this okay?

#cripple punk #disability #disabled #answered

[writingseaslugs]

Floyd Leech: Tsum Food

I regret nothing...

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Floyd Leech: Tsum Food

“Floyd!” You shouted from across the Octavinelle common room. Said man turned to look over at you, his jaw opened, and the poor little Tsumtsum that was modeled after him was held in his hands like a little sandwich. You felt like you were having some form of western standoff as you stood there frozen, not knowing how to go about this situation. You took one step closer and Floyd, in retaliation, brought the little Tsum closer to his mouth. Oh…he was playing that kinda game.

“Floyd…” Your voice wavered slightly as you took another step closer. The poor Tsum wiggled in Floyd’s grasp. You had a feeling if the creature had a mouth of its own, it would no doubt be biting Floyd back. Sadly, all it could do was squeeze him with his entire body. Despite its small size, the creature was strong when it squeezed. It had even squeezed in the short amount of time it had been on the campus. “Let the Tsum go….” You tried reasoning with the eel, but you knew the reason was a foreign concept to him.

“Eh, but Shrimpy, how else am I gonna know if he bleeds?” Floyd asked, and you were getting annoyed with him. Of course, he wanted to know if the other dimensional brick version of himself would bleed if he bit down.

“He is a living creature, Floyd, and you’re going to bite him like a sandwich to see if he bleeds?” You asked, taking another step closer to him. Floyd brought his arms just a little closer to his now-closed mouth. His eyes sparkled with mischievous intent, and you weren’t sure if he was fucking with you or not. “Floyd, that kills things.” You said with an exasperated sigh.

Floyd seemed to not have thought about that detail; if it did bleed, it would undoubtedly die if he put his maw around it. He slowly took the Tsum away from his mouth. The little thing wiggled its way out of his grasp and beelined to your arms in that short time frame. You let out a startled yelp as the Tsum went and began squeezing your midsection with all its might, trying to get away from the big version of him.

You managed to wrangle it into your arms where it seemed content to be…and he really did remind you of Floyd with how docile he was in your arms. “Awe, is Shrimpy stealing my Tsumtsum?” Floyd all but sang as he began walking closer to you, “No fair, give him back; I wasn’t done playing with him.”

Now you find yourself in the reverse situation as before. Every time he took a step closer, you took a single one back. “No, you’ve lost Tsum privileges when you tried to eat him.” You said, ready to book it at the first opening you had. Thankfully you were closer to the door with it right behind you, while Floyd had to cover a little bit of ground before reaching you. Sadly, the boy was all legs and could cross it within a few steps.

“Don’t be like that, Shrimpy; we can play together,” Floyd said with a frown now forming on his face. You decide to use one of your last resorts. You glanced over at the window frantically, and it piqued Floyd’s interest as he turned to see what you were looking at. The moment he was turned, you bolted through the door. You could hear Floyd’s whine as he realized you tricked him before thundering footsteps were behind you.

You did try to make a run for it in your defense. Sadly, Floyd was way faster than you ever could have predicted. It’s not like this was your first time running from him, but this was the first time he actually wanted to catch you. You felt his long arms wrap around your waist and hoist you into his arms. You kicked your legs uselessly while the Tsumtsum in your arms made a small whining noise at being squished by both you and Floyd now.

“Damn it, Floyd, who told you to have such long legs?” You complained, finally giving up your attempt at escaping his arms. It was useless, and the more you wiggled, the harder he was squeezing your waist. You sighed in annoyance until you felt his breath ghosting over your neck as he began laughing.

“So cute, Shrimpy, but you know you can’t escape me, right?” He asked; Floyd began walking through the dorm hallways until he came over to his bedroom. He kicked the door open, and you noticed a distinct lack of Jade in the room. You already knew this was going to end badly for you, “Now you get to play with little Floyd and me.” He teased.

“Oh sevens, don’t call the Tsumtsum little Floyd; that’s wrong on so many levels.” You groaned, being tossed onto his bed. Floyd snickered as the Tsumtsum went out of your hands and began running around the room excitedly. Who knew what Floyd had in store for you now.

“Why not? I think it’s fun!” Floyd said; the Tsum ran past him, and he snatched it up in one hand and brought it closer to your face. The Tsum latched on, making you squeal as you fell onto his bed, “You know, if you don’t let me bite little Floyd, then imma have to chomp on you.” Floyd said, coming closer with a sinister look on his face. In that moment, you knew you fucked up.

“Don’t you da-ack!” you cried, feeling Floyd grab your leg and lift it up. You cursed yourself for wearing shorts as he decided to bite down on your calf. Not hard enough to cause some serious damage, but enough for it to hurt like hell. You tried kicking him in the face and only succeeded in kicking his chest. You went over and inspected the damage done to your poor calf, seeing there were just angry red indents since he didn’t break the skin but got pretty damn close to it.

“Asshole.” You cried out, and Floyd just shrugged before going back to grab at your leg. Then your savior came in; Jade opened the door to his dorm, and Floyd looked over to see his twin brother just as your foot made contact with his jaw. Floyd cried out, toppling over and rubbing his poor jaw before breaking into laughter.

“What have I walked into?” Jade asked, and you decided now was your chance to escape. You bolted up, Tsumtsum in hand, and rushed for Jade.

“Jade, if you distract him, I’ll try whatever non-poisonous mushroom you want later!” You shouted, dashing past him. Apparently, that promise seemed to work as Jade put his arm over the door frame when Floyd tried to chase you.

Floyd whined before shouting, “I’ll catch you later, Shrimpy~” When did your life become so hectic?

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Floyd Leech #Floyd Leech x Reader #Floyd x Reader #TWST Floyd #Twisted Wonderland Floyd Leech #TWST Floyd Leech #Twisted Wonderland Floyd

[splatsvilles-fashionista]

Investing in T-shirts! The biggest beneficiaries of Gear Adjustments!

For fashion aficionados like myself, Gear Adjustment is the most exciting part of the upcoming Season. Being able to make small changes to the way your gear is worn is something that opens up a ton of customization while requiring less new stuff (though I'm sure it required a lot of work to add). With that said, for the moment, it is looking like they are limiting the feature to caps and t-shirts. I don't personally think caps are changed very much by the ability to flip them, they're all pretty good as they are, after all. But for t-shirts, being able to oversize them is actually really big. Pun unintended.

T-shirts have the tendency to be modeled in a way that makes them cling really tightly to your character's body, and it is has never looked right to me. Looking at the clothing choices I see in my multiplayer games, I get the impression that is the general sentiment, as well. Oversizing shirts solves their central problem, loosening them up and giving you a less constrained silhouette. In this post, I wanna highlight what I think are the biggest winners of this change are. Shirts I think you should pay attention to once the patch hits.

That said, I should highlight that since we don't have the patch yet I am only assuming these will be Adjustable. We cannot know for sure until the we get the update.

I've picked out ten T-shirts I think are the standouts, split into a couple of different categories, starting with the ones I think you all expected to see here:

Annaki Accessories!

I have to imagine that the Annaki Bracelet Tee and Annaki Choker Tee were some of the first shirts that came to mind when you think of noteworthy T-shirts in this game. They've got nice, dusty colors, the big Annaki A in slick silver, and of course their signature accessories. Oversizing these I think will amplify their punk aesthetic even more, because there's nothing punk about tight-fitting clothing.

Unless it's leather.

And leather these are not.

High-fives for Tie-Dyes!

Tie-Dyes are really fun with their bright, trippy patterns, so it's no surprise that the Takoroka Rainbow Tie Dye and the Takoroka Galactic Tie Dye are some of the better T-shirts in the game. We did see the Rainbow Tie Dye get Adjusted in the reveal trailer, and is it just me or does that just seem right for these kinds of shirts? Something about them screams "wear me at one size larger."

Ride the Wave!

Next up, we've got the Firewave Tee, Icewave Tee, and the Vaporwave Tee. There is also a Duskwave Tee, but I am personally not a big fan of the shade of orange they use for the bottom half of that shirt. That said, I think the gradient on these shirts them really make them stand out from the rest, and their color palettes are just very nice and evocative.

Assorted Graphic Tees!

These three don't have a common throughline aside from all being graphic tees, but I think they all have something to recommend them by. The Eelzebub Tee has a really gnarly, radiation-green design that is just really cool, giving an outfit something really eye-catching while still staying nice and simple.

The Green Tee is interesting because its big bold graphic lettering actually extend across the side and even a bit onto the back of your character, which gives it a really unique look I don't think any other clothes can replicate.

Finally, I just think the Mint Tee looks nice. Its color is pretty unique amongst shirts, and the white print design is decorative without being overbearing.

And these were my picks for the T-shirts to keep in mind come Drizzle Season 2023. Were there any others you feel I missed? If so, please tell me in the notes!

#splatoon 3 #drizzle season 2023 #splatoon 3 drizzle season 2023

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 10

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Panic/Anxiety Attack. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f). Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6k

Series List: Here!

Miss Track 9? Here!

Hi!!!! Once again I want to apologize for taking so long with this. I can't seem to ever stay awake to do anything. That being said, here it is! This is the last main chapter of our little lovebirds. There will be at least one, likely two bonus tracks coming soon though :) Also there's a smidge of Spanish in here from Pedro, but the translation is included in the end of the sentence. I took some Spanish classes back in the day but I don't speak it and had to use Google translate. So if it ISN'T right and you do speak Spanish, please let me know lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these little cuties on their first date. There's a lot, a lot, a lot of kissing in here (sorry...) and overall they're just grossly in love lol. Please let me know what you think, and if you've seriously read this far, I LOVE YOU! This is my first series, and honestly my first fic other than the one I wrote in my diary lmao. Like the reader, I am incredibly inexperienced so writing a relationship has been a bit of a challenge and half the time I don't believe the actual words I'm writing. But I really only started writing it as a way to write down my daydreams :) So to have support means the world to me, and hearing people comment/DM me saying how much they relate has meant so much and makes me feel a lot less alone, because ultimately, it doesn't matter how fictional it is, most of reader's feelings are my own. To anyone else in the same boat, I get you! Hang in there. I think there's a Pedro out there for us all. Someday. Anywho, pardon my ramble. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. ❤

The next morning, you woke up and stretched your limbs, rolling over in your comfortable bed as the sunshine poured in through the window. At the shuffling of your body, Skipper groaned, wiggling a little in bed, nearly shoving you off the edge. You reached for your phone, blinking through your sleep a couple times before seeing a text from Pedro. “Good morning beautiful! I can't wait for our date today. I was thinking maybe we could start around 2:30 and spend the day together, if you'd like. But if that's too much, we can just make it a dinner date. Up to you which you would prefer. I understand either way. Love you ❤️”

He wants to spend the whole day with me!? And he sent me a good morning text and called me beautiful? Then signed it with a heart and love you?!!!! How did I get this man?

Your grin eclipsed your face, making you squint. If Mr. Grumpybutt weren't sharing the bed with you, you'd probably squeal and kick your feet. Tapping your phone screen, you typed out a reply. “Morning handsome ❤️ I would love nothing more than to spend the day with you. I love you too!” You sent the message before crawling out of bed gently, receiving a dirty look from Skip. 

“Alright Grump. Go back to bed. Geez,” you laughed. If looks could kill, you thought. He turned back on his side, letting out a grumble and sigh, resulting in a laugh from you. Acts like he pays rent and works 40 hours a week…

You took a relaxing shower, making sure to be all nice and fresh for your date with the man of your dreams. While brushing your teeth, you noticed he had replied. “Great, I can't wait. I'll be at your place at 2:30. :)”

“Can't wait to see you. What do you have planned? I'm wondering how to dress.”

“Wear whatever you feel good in, baby. I'm sure you'll look amazing. Probably something casual you can walk around comfortably in for the day. Maybe something a little dressier for the evening, but you don't need to carry it around. We will make a stop at your place before and you can change”

Wow he really has this planned out.

“What have you got planned, P? This sounds elaborate. You know you don't need to put in all that effort, I'm already yours ❤️”

“You deserve the world, my love.”

Dressed in a pair of leggings and a light sweater, you felt reasonably cute while still being comfortable for whatever activity Pedro had in mind. Plus, with the crisp November air, you would be nice and warm. You were just finishing tying your sneakers when your doorbell rang. 

You opened the door to find your handsome boyfriend standing on your step, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. “Mi amor,” he handed you the roses, kissing your cheek and hand. “Thank you Pedro,” your cheeks heated. “Come in,” you pulled his hand across the doorway towards the living room. Skipper pushed past you to investigate, causing Pedro to drop your hand.

“Well there he is! That handsome boy!” Skipper’s tail wagged and his butt wiggled as Pedro crouched to give ear scratches. “Oh, I love you too,” Pedro answered when Skip kissed his face frantically. A fit of giggles erupted from Pedro, making your heart swell with joy. He has the cutest laugh, and the fact that your dog is causing it was surreal. 

“You're just a beautiful boy! Aren't you?! Hermoso, igual que tu mamá,” he held Skipper’s face, kissing his nose. (Beautiful, just like your mama)

Your chest was filled with butterflies. Holy shit, he's charming. “Thank you, Pedro,” you said in a whisper, not even sure if he would hear. Turning his head from your dog, Pedro looked up at you, giving you a gentle smile; but the eye contact was quickly torn away when Skipper pressed a needy paw to Pedro's chest. Both of you now giggling, Pedro continued to pet Skipper, stopping to give him a hug and some more nose kisses.

“Alright. I gotta ask…” you prompted, causing Pedro to turn his head towards you again. “Are you just dating me to hang out with my dog?” You smirked.

Pedro turned back to Skipper, speaking in a low voice. “She's catching on to us buddy. We've been made.” You burst out laughing, Skipper looking over at you as if his plan really had been foiled.

Pedro gave a final pat on Skipper’s head before standing and walking over to you. “Nonsense,” he pecked a kiss to your lips. “I do love that sweet boy of yours,” he replied before turning his face to whisper in your ear. “But I'm absolutely enamored with you, Mamacita.” The hair on your neck stood as a chill rushed down your spine. You bit your lower lip, and he stared back into your eyes, leaning in for a passionate kiss. 

“You look beautiful,” he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You look rather handsome, yourself,” you replied. His hair was brushed back and to the side, his curls neatly swept and threatening to break free around his face. You wondered whether he asked for help to make his hair look extra nice for your date or if he styled it himself.

Running your fingertips over his patched salt and pepper beard, your hands found the small heart shaped patches near his chin. You brushed your thumb over his jaw before leaning in to press a kiss on the bare skin, causing his eyes to close as he let out a sigh. The whiskers tickled your cheeks as you continued kissing up his jawline, back across his cheek, and on his nose before pulling away to look into his eyes.

He opted to not wear glasses today, allowing you a closer look into his deep brown eyes which were softening under your gaze. “You ready to go, baby?” He asked you, his hand on your hip as he rubbed circles with his thumb.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. He wore a pair of dark jeans, tennis shoes, and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearm. He looked absolutely… incredible.

While you were grabbing your bag, he grabbed Skipper's leash. “Is Skipper coming too?” You asked, confused.

Skipper was twirling now, impatient to go somewhere.

“Sure is! Couldn't leave him out. But don't worry, you and I will have the night to ourselves,” he winked.

You looked downward, feeling shy and flushed. “Okay,” you giggled, clipping Skip to his leash and heading for the door.

“Do you want to take my car? You'll get dog hair and slobber in yours,” you offer.

“I don't mind! I love dogs,” Pedro replied, opening the door for Skipper to climb in the back seat. After closing the door, he opened the passenger door for you. Such a gentleman, you thought with a sigh, getting in and thanking him. 

As the car sped along, you looked over at your boyfriend driving the car. Boyfriend! That'll never get old… you thought to yourself. The air conditioning blew the few loose strands of hair on the top of his head, and his left hand gripped the wheel, making the veins on his hand prominent. With his right hand, he reached over, holding your left in his, resting on top of your thigh. 

He really did look beautiful. You couldn't help but stare at him as he expertly drove the car, hand flexing as he turned the wheel. His mouth pursed and he licked his lips, his tongue slowly jutting out to wet them. 

Damn, I want those lips on mine. That tongue in my mouth, you thought, feeling rather warm, despite the air conditioning swirling around the car.

“So where are we spending the day?” You asked, trying to quiet the flames of attraction licking at your pulse.

“It's a surprise! But we're almost there,” he answered, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

Pedro looked in the side mirror and laughed. “Babe, look at Skipper.”

You looked to see him with his head out the window, ears and lips blown back with the wind, his tongue lolled out to the side and blowing with the speed of the vehicle.

You both chuckled before you warned him, “your car is going to be covered in slobbers, Pedro!” He gave another quick look to Skipper before replying. “That's okay. It'll help me remember this day until I wash it again,” he looked over at you and smiled. It felt so natural. So… domestic, the two of you sitting in the car, going on a date, him holding your hand while driving, and the two of you laughing at your dog in the back seat. It was just perfect. Everything you dreamed.

He wasn't joking when he said you were almost there. It was only about five more minutes until the car pulled into the parking lot of the dog-friendly beach. 

Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of salty sea air and hearing the chatter of gulls. The breeze blew your hair gently, but the day was relatively warm for November.

After the three of you exited the car, Pedro opened the trunk, pulling out a large picnic basket and tote bag. “You really came prepared, didn't you? Pedro, this is really special. Thank you.” Your eyes felt teary and the smile you held was genuine. Nobody has ever put this much effort into anything for you. Other than him.

“You don't need to thank me. I want you to be happy and I want the three of us to have a nice day,” he added, pecking your lips.

“Wait.. Pedro,” you frowned. “It looks kind of crowded. Should I be nervous about paparazzi or anything?” Your stomach bubbled with nervous energy.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Celebs come here all the time. I've come here before. If they do, they might take pictures, but usually it's pretty low-key here. Try not to worry too much. I want you to have a nice time,” he squeezed your hand affectionately.

“Okay. I trust you,” you smiled at him as the three of you walked towards the sand, finding a nice place to picnic. Pedro unpacked, laying down a large blanket before setting up the spread of sandwiches, veggies, and fruit. He offered you a cold drink from the basket and the two of you sat, using a metal stake to secure Skipper’s leash near your blanket. He flopped onto his side, content to be sunbathing with some of his favorite people.

The lunch consisted of peaceful conversations and laughter, learning more about each other despite having talked for several months now. It seemed you could never run out of conversation topics. But even in the quiet moments, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt relaxing. You were both content being able to sit together in silence and just enjoy each other's company.

After your meal, you packed up the basket and headed for the car again to put the things away, opting for a walk unburdened by carrying items across the sand. Neither of you brought a swimsuit today, but despite the California sun, it was still November, and the Pacific ocean was never really warm, even in the middle of summer. That didn't seem to bother Skipper very much though. As the two of you walked hand in hand near the water, barefoot in the wet sand, he ran laps around Pedro holding him on the leash, occasionally splashing through the shallow water before joining close by his family again.

He would definitely need a bath later, but you didn't mind. He was happy splashing around, having a great day. You were happy walking with the man of your dreams, fingers intertwined together. Everything felt right. You weren't even nervous, despite the way Pedro looked like the most handsome man you've ever seen, or the fact that he was famous, and that you occasionally received stares from other beach goers. Instead of the usual first-date nerves people get, you just felt love.

“So,” he started excitedly, “Obviously I have most of this date planned, but I also wanted to check in with you and see if you had anything particular in mind that you wanted to do together.”

You thought for a second, letting a memory burn into your thoughts. “Well,” you began, "I don't want to sound like a total creepy fan or anything...” you added, cautiously. You kinda were, with all the photos of him you had saved on your phone (prior to deleting them before your first meeting in person). But that's not important right now, and he probably doesn't need to know that. Maybe it can be a funny story later.

Pedro laughed, that cute little wheezy laugh he does with his giant smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. Those same somersaults you've been getting since you first saw that smile on the screen and knew you were absolutely screwed until you got over this crush. Or, unexpectedly, when you walked hand-in-hand with him, like you were now.

“But…?” he pondered, looking down at you sideways, with a playful smirk and those big brown eyes that could make you lose your mind. They absolutely glittered in the sunlight right now, reflecting all the joy and love he felt for you.

“Okay maybe I'm a little creepy…” you nudged him with your side, still gripping his hand in yours as the two of you walked peacefully. The beach was crowded, but you and him, and Skipper, were the only ones here as far as either of you were concerned. There could be a loud scream and it wouldn't compare to the squealing in your mind. A firework show would simply feel like a projection of your sparks. A tornado couldn't sweep you off your feet as well as he could. 

“Is this where you tell me you've been watching me sleep through my window for the past three years or something?” He raised an eyebrow, playful smile still on his face as he licked his lips.

“What?” You squeaked, laughing. “No. I mean… I did have some pictures saved of you, and have maybe read a fictional story or two about you and your characters…” or a few thousand, you thought.

You cringed. Why the fuck did I say that out loud?!

Your cheeks felt hot and you diverted your eyes away from the man beside you, a nervous grimace painted across your mouth. He barked out a laugh, pulling you into his side for a hug. “Baby, you're cute. I don't mind that you used to read those. I don't even mind if you still do. No different than a book, right? Maybe it'll give us some fun date ideas.” He rested his head on top of yours innocently.

Oh, if only he knew the things you read.

“Right. Fun date ideas,” you smirked to yourself. He pulled away to look at you, eyebrow raising playfully.

“Sweetheart,” he interrogated in the same tone you use when Skipper steals a sock from the laundry, “what kind of stories are you reading about me and my characters, huh?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. You'd feel nervous from his tone if he didn't flash a smug, knowing grin at you.

“Oh, you know…” you shrugged. “Just the typical romance stuff,” you turned, facing him and resting your hand on his chest, tracing a circle over his heart with your finger. You felt his pulse pick up under your touch, and saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“What kind of thoughts are going through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, raising his brow while you continued tracing little hearts into his shirt with your index finger.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” You winked before removing your hand from his chest. Starting to walk away, you continued your earlier statement. “Anyway, as I was saying-”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he interrupted, laughing. “Don't think you're getting out of this conversation that easy,” he gently pulled your forearm, stopping your movement and sending you twirling into his arms once again.

“Maybe someday I'll tell you,” you giggled, booping his nose. 

“Someday? Why not tell me now?” He ran his thumb over your lip, eyes drifting down quickly before returning to your eyes.

“I'll show you the fanfics I read about you when I know you're stuck with me and you aren't going to run for the hills,” you laughed nervously, only partially joking.

His playful demeanor vanished before your eyes, turning into a look of… concern? Oh no. This is it. Where he realizes what a mistake he made. Where he says he doesn't want to be together. Where he breaks my heart.

He gently held your arm, rubbing soft strokes. “Honey. What are you talking about?” His soft brown eyes searched your face. You gulped, not wanting to make eye contact, but he again pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “I…” you floundered for the words. “I don't want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared away?” he asked in almost a whisper, concern and sadness lacing his features.

“Because I just had this huge, huge crush on you. So, I read fanfics and I saved all your photos and I watched all your movies. I spent more time on social media looking for updates on you. Just so I could see you, or imagine what being with you would feel like. Like a total crazy person. An absolute psycho creeper.”

“Baby…” he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You aren't any of those things. I actually think that’s kind of sweet. Although, it makes me a little sad thinking about the pain you must have felt, having these strong feelings and not having found each other yet.” He brushed your hair out of your face, settling his other hand on your waist before continuing.

“Feelings make us feel a little crazy sometimes, and although I never read fanfiction about you, or had any pictures to save, I would be lying if I said I didn't take a screenshot of us that first night you showed me your face.” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

Fanfic about me? What? If that even exists, I gotta see what people are saying…

“You did?” His admission surprised you, to say the least. He sighed before answering. “Yes. I had - have,” he corrected himself, “a pretty big crush on you too, baby. But I felt like I was betraying you in a way, taking a picture of you during our video chat. I just wanted to remember your face if I never saw it again,” he sighed.

“I fell in love with you the first time I heard your song... I heard you sing about your feelings and daydreams. So… you admitting about fanfiction and pictures isn't all that surprising.” You lowered your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He stroked your cheek. You looked up and he continued. “I took that picture because I had already fallen so head-over-heels for you that the first time I saw your face, I stopped breathing. Although I knew I wouldn't be able to get the image of you out of my mind, I couldn't risk forgetting the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life.”

You dropped your gaze again, cheeks feeling a permanent state of warmth and butterflies dancing from your stomach to your chest. “You don't honestly mean that, Pedro.” You sighed. “I appreciate it, but there's no way. I really don't know what you could ever see in someone like me,” you whispered, barely audible. If you weren't standing so close, he would've missed it.

Instead of responding, he dropped his arms from your body. At the loss of contact, your heart sank. But when you lifted your head to meet his eyes, he was fishing around his pocket for his phone. Calling an Uber to leave? Your self-doubt pestered.

A few taps to his screen later and he held up his phone. There you were, sitting at your table in your favorite dress, with your favorite food and flowers on the table. You had the biggest smile on your face and in the bottom corner, you could see Pedro looking handsome as always, and absolutely smitten with you, the largest grin painted across his features.

At the sight of the image, your heart warmed. “See what you mean to me?” He asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you,” you choked out, leaning forward to mold your lips to his. They fit together perfectly. Like they were made for each other. He pressed back before opening his mouth ever so slightly to lick at your lips. Matching his movements, your tongues met, dancing a waltz in exploration as he pulled you forward by your lower back, seeming as if trying to get as close as possible somehow.

As the two of you paused for air, he ran his hand further down your back, just barely grazing the dip of your spine where your torso meets your butt. He gave you a look, almost to determine your reaction, asking permission to let his hand continue. When you didn't back away, going as far as pulling him closer around his neck and leaning in for another kiss, he pressed his lips against yours in return and let his hands wander a little further down. When his hand wrapped around the cheek of your ass, you squeaked. This is new… and I like it, you thought. His whole hand fit across your cheek. His huge hands. You whimpered as he gave a squeeze, like he was claiming you as his own.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, pulling out of the kiss to search your eyes. “So tell me… what was this activity you wanted to add to our date? The one you fear makes you sound like a creepy fan?” He let out a small laugh, brushing your nose with his.

“This,” you replied, pressing another kiss.

“Kissing?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your waist and resting his forehead to yours. “I think we've already been doing that, if I'm not mistaken.” He pecked your lips with his.

“Yes,” you kissed. “Well,” kiss. “Actually,” you pulled away enough to explain. “I read this interview you gave a few years ago about your ideal first date?”

“Yeah?”

“You said something about ‘a date that doesn't feel like a date. And

hopefully by the end, or throughout, very

good kissing.” You said, slightly cautious at your memorization, a bit nervous at the implication of what you're saying.

“Oh, is that what you want?” He flashed his eyes up to look at you, giving a devilish smirk. 

“Well, as someone who hadn't been kissed yet when I read it, I sorta lost my mind over it,” you laughed. “Obviously we've kissed before, but if it were up to me your lips would never leave mine,” you pressed your lips to his again.

“I think we should be able to make that happen,” he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before pulling you in for another kiss. “Mmmm” you sighed, pulling away from his lips. “Never gets old.” You held his hand in yours, the two of you walking again down the beach.

“So I was thinking,” he began, “since you said you deleted all your photos, and I only have the one, maybe we could make some new photos… together,” the corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile. You grinned and nodded excitedly. “Please!”

Pulling out his phone, the two of you took several photos together. Some just smiling, some with Skipper, and your personal favorites, the ones with him kissing you. This will make for a perfect lockscreen, you imagined.

As you approached the edge of a rocky cliffside at the end of the beach, a sea lion barked in the distance. Skipper perked up, tilting his head and letting his ears twitch before returning a “boof.” The two of you laughed, ushering your dog away from making any wild ocean friends, and headed towards the boardwalk.

After grabbing an ice cream at a candy shop, you were so deep in conversation and laughter that you didn't notice the girl off to the side looking nervous. Slowly she walked over. Skipper put up his guard, but as she approached, she gave a kind wave. “Hi… I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a big fan of you both.”

“Us… both?!” You responded, surprised. Pedro shook his head with a laugh before thanking the fan.

“Of course! Your music is amazing! I listen to it on my way home from work everyday. I relate to so many of your songs.”

“Wow, thank you so much. I never expected to be recognized. You're so kind,” you replied honestly.

She asked for a photo with you both, and after obliging, she mentioned before leaving, “by the way, I was following all the news that went down. I just want to say I think it's cute how you guys got together and you make a really cute couple. Okay bye! Thank you again!!” And with that, she scurried away, leaving you to look at Pedro in surprise. “Wow” you replied with a laugh. “I can't believe I'm getting recognized,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you feel about it?” Pedro asked cautiously.

“I feel… okay, so far. This was a nice interaction, and even though people keep looking at us… being able to be out in public with you, to show my face, kiss you, hug you, hold your hand,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “it makes it all worth it.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he looked into your eyes, giving a soft smile. You matched his expression before his face slowly faded into concern. “Do you think work will go okay for you? Now that it's out there?”

You took a deep breath, walking a few more steps with him down the boardwalk before replying. “I don't know. I guess so. Or… I hope so at least. I've had a few of my friends and coworkers message me kind words of encouragement. So at least I'll have some people on my side, even if anyone else has something to say. But really, they shouldn't. They already know me. They knew I liked you,” you leaned into him. “So they should be happy for me if anything. And if not, then… well, they didn't deserve to be my friend anyway,” you shrugged. “But I think I might take some time off to figure out everything, career wise,” you added. Still leaning into his side, Pedro unlatched his fingers from yours, opting to reach his arm around you, giving your shoulder a squeeze and rubbing soft circles into your upper arm.

“Baby,” Pedro began, his voice vibrating through your body as he leaned his head on yours, “I’m so proud of you. Have I told you how strong I think you are?” Your cheeks warmed and you grinned. “Thank you Pedro,” you wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him. “But I don't think I'm that strong. I struggle to open pickle jars just like the rest of us,” you joked.

Pedro gave a quiet snort. “You know what I mean, honey,” he laughed. “I don't mean physical strength. Though I'm sure you could hold your own in an arm wrestle, I mean your ability to handle all of this thrown at you so quickly. Your ability to adapt and stay cheerful about everything. You just keep continuing to amaze me,” he pulled his head away from yours to meet your gaze. He smiled softly and you thanked him.

“I don't feel very strong,” you mumbled, breaking away from his stare. “You are, though. You're strong, smart, beautiful. Talented. Passionate,” he kissed your lips.

“Pedro, I love you, but you always seem to use all these words I don't feel. You see me as someone completely different than the way I've always seen myself. I want to believe you, but-” you sighed. “No one else has ever shown any indication that those are true,” you pouted, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, whoa. Stop,” he halted your movements, pulling your chin up to his face. “Maybe they didn't see you, but I do. I feel all those things about you, and I'll spend every single day trying to prove it. I told myself I wouldn't get involved in romance a long time ago. But you changed all that.”

His chocolate brown eyes felt like they looked directly into your soul as he attempted to unravel your self-doubt. With a deep breath, you calmed enough to reply. “I love you, and I feel all those things for you as well. I'm glad you opened yourself up to love again.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I'm glad I met you” you sucked his lip. “I'm glad you're mine.” You kissed him again, deepening it, letting your tongue press gently to his and tangling together in passion before pulling away. 

Skipper had completely rolled into his side in wait for you both, between the conversation and the kissing. When the two of you broke away with matching grins, you looked over to see the sun had sunk down to the border between sky and ocean. In its wake was a bright orange sky, with pink, purple, and yellow streaks mixed in, as if a painter had gotten a bit too carried away with the paints. It was blindingly beautiful. 

Drawn to it like moths, the three of you walked towards the shoreline once again. You started to sit, but Pedro pulled you into his chest and fished for his phone. 

You gave him a confused look before he kissed you deeply and held out his arm. Unlatching his lips from yours with a pop, he held up his phone to you with a smile. In front of the vibrant ocean sunset, the silhouette of a couple shared a loving kiss. For once, it was you in this couple photo. You and the man you love.

You walked a little farther down the sand before sitting down just above the line of wet sand to admire the sunset. Pedro sat behind you, his legs on either side of you while you lay back into his chest. As you leaned into him, he hugged around your body, molding himself to you and tracing light circles into the skin on your arms, making the hairs stand on end and a shiver to run down your spine. 

Skipper flopped down nearby, clearly sleepy after a long walk and plenty of new smells. You ran a gentle hand down his back until you heard soft snores, then let him sleep, leaning your head on Pedro’s arm around your shoulder. “This sunset is beautiful,” you sighed, watching as the sun descended further below the ocean. It looked as if it was sinking deep below the surface, offering its light to the deep sea anglerfish miles below.

“It is amazing,” Pedro agreed, staring at you. “But my view is even better,” he added, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face as he kissed your shoulder. You looked over at him, meeting his eyes, now sparkling with the orange of the sky. “Mine too,” you whispered, tilting your head to press another kiss to his lips.

When the sun went down completely, you headed to the car and Pedro drove back to your place so you could get ready for dinner. 

Pedro sat on the couch patiently, stroking the fur on Skip’s back while he snoozed, his head in Pedro's lap. In your bedroom, you searched for the perfect outfit to wear, finally deciding on a nice dress and sweater.

Hopefully the restaurant isn't too cold, you thought.

Walking out of the bedroom, you joined your boys in the living room, only to be greeted by Pedro’s jaw hitting the floor. “Te ves tan hermosa mi amor,” he stuttered in Spanish, flipping languages so easily when he was overcome with emotion. (You look so gorgeous my love.)

He gently stood, sliding out from below your dog, before walking over to you. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe and back up again, making you feel nervous. “You… you look… wow.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, his thumb grazing his lip. His pupils grew, making his eyes ever-so-slightly darker. You shivered under his gaze.

At your shiver, his demeanor shifted. “Shit, are you cold? Baby, you look incredible, but if you're cold -” 

“I'm not cold, Pedro,” you interrupted.

“Are you sure? I saw you shiver.” He stepped towards you, touching your arm. A buzz crept under your skin like a live wire. “It wasn't from the cold…” you replied.

“It wasn't from-?” He paused, the realization hitting him as he understood your shiver wasn't from cold but frankly.. the opposite. “Oh,” he hummed, settling his hand on your hip and stepping closer.

Another chill.

“Feeling excited for our date, huh?” His voice caressed into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to take gentle nibbles on the skin of your collarbone, neck, and chin, before pulling you in by your waist to press a deep kiss to your mouth, his tongue finding yours. 

This was starting to feel natural, kissing. And you two were getting good at it together. Knowing just the way his tongue moved, finding just the spot to make you whine. You even managed to find a spot of him that made a groan slip from his lips nearly every time. Kissing him was addicting, and you had no intention of kicking the habit.

He pulled away, pulling your lip with his teeth as you let out a slight hiss. “I'd love to do this all night, but I promised you dinner, my love,” he kissed your cheek, his beard scratching your face just right. You sighed, agreeing to dinner and taking a minute step back. It felt much warmer in the room than before, and you could tell he felt the same. As your eyes drifted across his body, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Slowly sweeping his eyes down his body, it was evident you both wanted something beyond dinner.

But the gentleman he is, Pedro stepped forward again, taking your hand and leading you toward the door. 

Pulling up to the curb, Pedro opened your door for you before handing his keys to the valet. Linking his arm with yours, the two of you walked into an elegant Italian restaurant. He gave the waitress his name, and she led you back to a secluded room where a single booth sat.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by candles and twinkling fairy lights. They lined the ceiling, mimicking the starry sky, were it not for the smog of the city. You two walked toward the only booth, settled against the nook of a window, draped with a soft, thin white curtain covering the view from outside. Only the reflection of street lights peered through the thin drapery.

Sliding into the booth, Pedro sat next to you, close enough to touch, yet due to the curve of the corner booth, you were able to converse without craning your neck awkwardly. At the center of the table was a single red rose in a vase, sat next to the glow of a candle. The table itself was rounded and draped with an elegant dark red tablecloth.

Grabbing the triangular folded napkin off your plate, you folded it across your lap, Pedro doing the same. He reached over to you, taking your hand in his. He rolled his hand over the top of yours, linking his fingers between your own and giving a gentle squeeze while offering a soft smile. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for the words he might be thinking. In his eyes you only found love and appreciation, pure happiness oozing from his features. When the waitress came back, she set a basket of bread with butter on the table and took your orders. 

The night went smoothly, chatter filling the empty spaces while you enjoyed your meals. “Pedro, I know this is technically our first date, but I gotta say, I think I consider our video chat for my album as the first date. It was the first time I felt like I might actually have a shot with you. You put so much effort into that night and it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I didn't know I could fall for you any harder than I was, but you proved me wrong. And even though we didn't say it was a date, and I didn't have much experience before you, it felt more like a date than anything I had ever felt before. You're a real romantic, P.” 

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “That felt like the first date to me too. I knew for sure that I loved you that night.” Your cheeks heated, and you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

It was only when the bill arrived that you broke apart. Though you offered to pay, at least for your meal, Pedro wouldn't stand for that. After all, he told you, this date was his idea. So instead, you thanked him and left the restaurant the same way you entered, arms linked.

As Pedro pulled up outside of your home, you let out a sigh. It was already after 9 PM. You had spent nearly eight hours together and yet you dreaded the moment you'd be saying goodbye. It was almost that time already, yet it felt like only five minutes had passed.

Though the walk from Pedro’s car to your front door was rather short, you both managed to prolong it, walking as slow as possible. Clearly he wasn't ready for it to end either. Two love sick fools, just wanting to spend every moment together.

Teetering on the edge of goodbyes, you awkwardly stood by your door. There were no nerves at a first kiss, fortunately. There had been plenty of kisses shared today, and yesterday, and the day prior. In fact, if it weren't for breathing, eating, and other bodily functions, you'd be fine having your lips glued to his indefinitely.

So with that in mind, and the burning desire to spend more time together, as he said goodbye, placing a kiss to your lips and beginning to walk away, you grabbed his arm. “Wait,” you plead.

Pedro turned, looking at you as if you had something to say, or you had forgotten a sweater in the car. But instead, with your heart pounding in your ears, you quietly asked, “would you like to come in? I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.”

The question could be taken with so many potential implications, or none at all. All you knew for sure was that you wanted to spend more time with him. What happened next could be decided in the moment.

His eyes flashed surprise for a moment. He looked at you, trying to read your face for any details in your question, then stared at your front door before turning back to you and finally answering.

“I would love to,” he smiled.

And so the two of you walked through the threshold of your front door, buzzing with new possibilities just inside. But no matter how the rest of the evening takes place, you were in love, and for once, you were loved back.

The end! Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the bonus tracks, and once again I'd love to hear what you think! Reblogs are appreciated as well :)

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

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