#I am blessed this night with fanart

[evermorelore]

𝐼'𝑚 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡? 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡? 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑦. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒?

did I start drawing this last night as I watched persuasion? yes. regency au elucian when?

[wetchickenbreast]

i was divinely compelled to draw this i hope you like it

[writingjourney]

HELLO THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I HAVE EVER SEEN!!!

Omg I don't know what to say this is so stunning, so beautiful. He looks just like I imagined him. You even got all the details in there, the outfits, the little curl in his hair, his red eye and the scrape over the other, the movie ticket 😭 ♡

I don't even know what to say, this is so magnificent. He's so very handsome and perfect. I can't believe this exists now ♡

some Primos from the fic Friday Nights at the Cinema Club by @writingjourney 🌹🎞️ (x)

[sanjisblackasswife]

So.... Hello! I'm not Very good at english since it's not my language but here we Go. I wanna to say i really love your art (from fanarts to your write style) and i Hope you have a good day today. Anyway i don't know If your ask are ope but How the Monsters trio Will react with they being your First in everthing! (Like First Kiss, First love, First s*x, etc) you can do nsfw-ish If you wanted

aww thank u!:) I am not going to go into grave detail because I am already doing a “First time” series with them but i like this request💓imma do it moreso where you’re THEIRS if thats alright

Being the Monster Trio’s First (NSFW-ish)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Mentions of sex

I am half sleep and typing this all in one go so mb for my spelling errors im just making up for lost time not posting consistently because school and coms☹️

Being Luffy’s First:

Crush: Being his crush is no different from being his best friend, he isn’t a very romantic guy if he likes you he will just tell you, “Y/N I think about you a lot, and I also think you may have a Lust DF power because when I think of you i get hard.” Bless him he is very blunt. BUT he does mean what he says so..be nice?

Kiss: Probably the most anticlimactic thing ever. Luffy already licks your face, hugs, and touches you a lot so when he starts running at you after a fight to see if you’re okay BAM. His lips smack into yours like a bowling ball and honestly. It’s cute. Completely uncoordinated, damn near sucked your bottom lip off, but…there was just something so addictive and attractive to his kiss that made you want more

Love: Very odd in his case. He just thought he liked you a lot. The signs were evident though, when you tell him he doesn’t deny it persay he moreso brushes it off because being in love is so new to him. However being his first love is something you can’t forget. He reminds you everyday why you’re important. Why he loves you. And why he fell in love with you.

Sexual Encounter: It was fun! You both were inexperienced. He didn’t know what hole to enter, you were shocked by how long he can stretch his dick. You both even spent the night laughing more than actually having sex, but once it came down to business it was a learning experience for you both. He was so attentive to make sure you were okay you felt yourself crying a little afterwards at how gentle he was with you.

Being Zoro’s First:

crush: He’s actually more of an asshole to you Not even on purpose he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings towards you. You’re beautiful, sweet, and charming and dammit he hates that he has feelings and how you always mess them up when you’re around him! He feels so powerless so please be gentle with him…or put him on blast. It maybe attractive to the mf.

Kiss: Awkward, awkward, awkward. He isn’t the rizzmaster okay. Yes he is pretty and he knows it but he is crap to flirting. absolutely crap. He was so hot in the face when you did the first move and kissed him he was a stuttering mess and pulled you back in for another kiss to prevent you from laughing at him. His kisses wasn’t BAD but …just practice with him. Yeah it was awkward but seeing your face so close and personal, smelling your scent. He couldn’t get enough.

Love: DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT Absolutely ridiculous how in denial he was. Everytime someone even said the word love he’d get so mad because that word applied to you in so many ways. He fell for you and he couldn’t do anything about it. You were the one opponent he could not beat and honestly, he didn’t want to. He fell for you and he fell so hard that it actually makes him nervous to be around you. He doesn’t know whether he loves you or hates you now for being so irresistible to him. Eventually he comes to terms with it and once it does and you feel the same way. Good luck getting rid of him.

Sexual Encounter: You taught him everything. He didn’t know his way from the clit to your ass. It took a lot of trial and error, sex wasn’t really NEW to him. He has seen porn but it’s completely different from films and pictures so sometimes he would back down when making out got too far, eventually he needed that release one late night while cuddling you and even though he could have went to the bathroom you stopped him and …helped him out. Let’s just say Zoro is so grateful he didn’t pussy out this go round!

Being Sanji’s First:

Crush: Sanji is an interesting guy because any woman that knows Sanji knows he is a mixture of a flirt and just having amazing manners for women. You however was just above the usual women he served to. Being his crush was an experience because you seen a side to Sanji most women don’t get to see. You seen him stand up straighter, sly comments that made your heart melt, and even kept his cool…too cool in fact. He really was Mr. Prince for you.

Kiss: The first kiss he planned it out. He knew his feelings about you and that you felt the same so he needed to plan it just right not just for him, but for you as well. The kiss was so soft and delicate you almost didn’t feel it. And that was because he shy’ed away for a moment, scared his sudden bold move would have you smack him, Luckily, he didn’t have to worry feeling your hands cup his cheek to kiss him back. He still touches his lips when he thinks about that time you kissed him.

Love: I mean man…you really are a blessed woman because out of all of the others he has seen and been with he chose you and only you. it’s insane really. He tries in his entire will to not mess this opportunity to find true love up. You being his first love he watches his mouth and actions around you more, He tries his hardest not to ruin the view you have of him and it shows. If you can just reassure him you love him for him and not who he thinks he needs to be. Sanji needs the confirmation that you love him almost as much as he loves you.

Sexual Encounter: LORD—- okay. okay. Just like Zoro trial and error HOWEVER. Much longer and worse. He really is still a pervert no matter how much in love he is with you so you have to take it very slow. Once you both are okay to be naked in front of each other he is back to being a shy boy so you constantly kiss and praise him, telling him how good he is for you, how well he is doing for his first time. You were so kind and patient with him, it never fails to leave a chill down his spine (in a good way) when he remembers that night of love making with you, and now that he has more experience he does nothing but reciprocate the same feelings back to you in bed.

[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 . . .

[andeptus]

I NEED MORE DN FIC RECOMENDATIONS PLEASE IM STARVING AND YOUR TASTE IS ELITE

God i love recommending fanfics !!! Here are a few of my favourites, under the cut... Apologies they're all Lawlight.

white chocolate roses by ruruka:

Light is a cardiologist and L is his terminally ill patient... Light being a cardiologist fits him so well as a parallel to who he is in. yk. canon.

incredibly beautiful story with an amazing writing style

it's also so funny at times, i'd catch myself giggling

it's my fav Lawlight fanfic. Ever.

Time Speaks by aSmallMoon333:

the plot is the work of a genius

the writing is amazing and overall it's a really beautiful and well thought out story

one of my favourite Lawlight fanfics too. i've drawn fanart of it + a few doodles here and there, i think it really inspires you...

Nights by youremyqueen:

I actually haven't finished reading this one but i've read other works from the author and they never disappoint me !!

i downloaded this one and have been annotating it, it's amazing

it's my friend's favourite Lawlight fanfic and i value her taste a lot so i know what i'm talking about !!

Fingertips by MasterAlgae:

i'm a sucker for whump sorry. Alway have been and will always be...

I followed it while it was still updating and my day was always better when i would receive that silly little email

i loved loved it. One of my favourite Lawlight fanfics...

Angst pain whump... but oh the fluff is good

it also has a sequel !!

You Don't Need to Say It (I Already Know) by vodka_auntle:

Have i mentioned i'm a big fan of whump because i am...

sickfic... i love sickfics so so much

Especially when my fav blorbo is the one who's sick. Yes. suffer, L. Suffer...

it's so domestic and fluffy and arghh i can't get enough of it. I've reread it so many times, it's such a comfort...

sugar and pumpkin spice:

Ok. listen. I'm not a huge fan of coffee shop AUs, but this one - this one is an exception...

someone sent it to me after i finished white chocolate roses and it was a blessing

it's cute and it can cheer you up and it's comforting and... Yeah !!

Light Yagami dinner party by LycanCoffee:

Very creative and philosophical

very character analysis-esque

i have reread it a ton of times actually. It's really good... very underrated too !!

Sinking down by rosade:

character analysis on L throughout the Kira case

it's canon divergent so not entirely accurate to how the story went, naturally

it's a great read !!

A Sugary Hypothesis by Zara_Zara:

So funny and unserious i loved it

i still think about it. At least weekly...

Thank you for this ask !! I obviously have a ton other fanfics i'd like to recommend but we'd be here the whole day...

[mismess]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well!

I’ve been watching Monk for the first time and have LOVED seeing your Monk fanart! The way you draw him is so fun and cool, I haven’t seen anyone draw him in a way that captures his likeness and still retains a creative style! I’ve been trying to draw him for weeks now and have had a lot of trouble nailing his features, any tips?

Hope you have a great one, and thank you for blessing my fyp with your blog! 💜

WAAH thank you !! I'm very glad you enjoy my Monk art! <3

I am shit at explaining myself and half the time I myself don't know what I did to get where I am. So I doodled him a bunch to try and feel out how i draw him.

Right of the bat I think I draw Monk a little rounder than he actually is? When figuring out how to draw someone I usually quickly trace over a photo to get a feel for the person and try to break them down into basic shapes first and build from there, and Tony Shalhoub can be a Very Square man in my eyes.

But I look at Monk and I see a softness that I must get across in my art, so I add some softness. Round his squares out a bit. Sometimes the vibes must be accounted for as well.

To me some of his most important features are his eyebrows, hairline, and most importantly and kinda ironically seeing as how sad his character is, his smile lines.

And you know, sometimes I DO draw him a little squarer, and sometimes I draw him a little rounder, consistency is also... Sometimes... Not as vital as it may seem... As long as the shapes FEEL right. Wish I could tell you my process more but I feel like I draw like that "draw the rest of the fucking owl" meme!

Your style is really cool btw! I love that columbo collection(one day I'll watch Columbo...). sorry if this isn't helpful at all lmao you have a wonderful day and/or night as well ! ^-^

[hantengus-fuckass-clones]

Hello! May I request any of the clones (or all of them) that get reverse isekaid, fem reader please, she's just a girl surviving her 9 to 5 and then BAM! Who are these people dressed as the clones in her house? What do you mean is not cosplay?

This will only be with Aizetsu and Urogi so apologies

(Y/N) POV

Working in retail sucks absolute ass but the only thing that keeps me going is going home at the end of the day and cuddling with my Hantengu clone plushies. You may say that i’m addicted to the clones and you’d be absolutely right but I don’t care, all I care about is seeing my pookies at the end of each day. Anyway, after locking up the 7/11 looking ass store I begin to make my way home and after one hell of a bus ride, I was home. Slamming open the door and locking it right after I proclaim “I’m home!!!” Even though I live alone which put me on edge as I hear soft but panicked footsteps in my bedroom, my heart leapt into my throat as the door swung open and out shot the best Urogi cosplayer i’ve ever seen. Had this not been a home invasion scenario, I might have started complimenting him on looking exactly like one of my favourite characters. However, I did not get that chance as I was suddenly encased in thick arms and soft wings as the cosplayer(?) lifts me up and swings me around. “Little fangirl, you’re home!” God his voice sounds just like him too, this man must be blessed by the kny gods. From between the wings, which were suspiciously mobile and fluid, I see an Aizetsu slowly creep out my bedroom with my Aizetsu plushy in his hands.

I feel my feet touch the ground once more as these two behemoths size me up, it is now that I notice how the Urogis wings move and begin to think to myself that maybe these aren’t cosplayers. I shake slightly as I look up at them asking “How did you get into my house?” Luckily it seems that they had no problem in understanding the English language as they respond. “We don’t exactly know, one minute we were fighting some slayers and the next we were dropped into your room.” The Aizetsu speaks as the Urogi pokes me with suspiciously sharp talons which I eye cautiously. “The better question is why do you have all these things that look like us and the other clones?” The Urogi chuckles as he squishes my cheeks gently.

“Oh umm…. Well how do I explain this?” I am genuinely struggling to explain that these characters weren’t real in my world and for the next 20 or so minutes I explain it, showing them the manga and bits of the anime along with fanart (the safe ones). All in all I think they took it pretty well, they both seem surprised that people like them, Aizetsu more then Urogi. But soon enough night fell on us and I found myself getting tired, them being demons means that they didn’t need to sleep and I don’t know how I feel with sleeping around wide awake demons in my house but soon enough I found myself on the couch drifting off. In my sleepy haze I didn’t quite clock the arms wrapping around me and the two faces nuzzling either side of my neck as sleep took its hold on me.

I’m quite proud of this one ngl.

[egophiliac]

Hello!! I'm in love with your artstyle (especially the way you did the signature spells??? I've been looking at them for a while adsgfdfsf, they look like movie posters tbh and that's fricking cool to me. anyway!! I'm a player on the NA server (btw, I've already seen spoilers of chap 7 due to tumblr/reddit/pinterest, so yeah it's not the most spoiled I've ever been so yea) and yeah. I'm getting through the story okay but do you have any advice for people trying to get through certain events with a more limited life schedule??? Also, what are some of the differences that you notice between the english (if you see a lot of it??) and Japanese versions of the game? sorry if this was a longer ask, i tried to be simple but i wanted to tell you that I loved your art and everything just spiraled AAAAAAH

thank you! ❤️❤️❤️ I've been surprised by how many people really like my posters -- it's kind of a weird style to do fanart in, I guess, but I'm glad other people think it's cool too! :D

(gonna answer out of order because the event stuff turned into a huge block of text, sorry!)

I've seen a few of the localizations, but I don't know a lot about the Eng version, so I can't speak too much about differences. (I do think "housewarden" has a better sound to it than "dorm leader" though...they need a fancy little word to match their fancy little outfits.) I did look up the unique magic/signature spells to see if they were able to somehow work in the glossing -- I'm not even sure how you would localize that without it being super weird, so I don't blame them, but I was a little sad anyway! :( in Japanese, they're all written as Japanese phrases with the English as ruby text, and sometimes they're given a little extra meaning. like -- this is where the episode 7 spoilers I'm tagging are) the words that Mal says are "Fae of Maleficence":

but the meaning of the Japanese is "Blessing", which is a nice little "ooooh" moment given the context of it!

there isn't always an extra meaning, sometimes it's just. super literal. but my other favorite is Jack's, where what he means is "✨howl that pierces the moonlit night✨", but what he actually yells is "UNLEASH BEAST" before turning into a giant dog. what a good boy.

as for event advice (under the cut, because this was already getting long)...

speaking as someone who is 100% F2P and therefore also tends to get kind of burnt by some of these events -- the #1 most important thing is to just...make peace with not getting everyone. :') I am a collector-type person, so it definitely gets grating when I can't have all the fancy PNGs my little packrat heart desires. generally though: never do random pulls, always be saving your keys and gems between events. (once a month you can buy a 10-set from Sam for a 50 gem discount, and logging in on a character's birthday will give you a 10-set for free, so make sure to do those!). when the event info starts coming out, pick one or two cards that you really want and work specifically towards those, focusing on grinding out the items and/or using your saved-up pulls on their specific banner. and in the end, accept that it might just not be meant to be, even if you hit the 100-pull pity SSR no I'm not still bitter over fairy gala Ortho why do you ask. if the event doesn't have any cards that you really want, take it as an opportunity to save for the next one!

hoard your star fragments (the things that restore AP) -- if you're going for a card that requires grinding event items to permanently unlock, and the item is one you get from lessons, you can use star fragments to bump your AP up to 30 at a time (10 is the limit that will restore over time, but 30 is the max you can have at once). that makes for a looong lesson loop, but I usually get about 50-60 items per 30 lessons, and I just let it run in the background while doing other stuff. (usually these items are what also unlock the event story, so I'll do a huge amount of lessons first thing and then have enough to get the whole story at once. 👍) it can get really grindy, but events go on for a while so it's not usually that bad if you space it out a bit, instead of waiting until the last minute to try and get those last 600 items (cough) (cough).

if it's one of the ones where you get the item from doing a rhythmic, you get the same amount of items no matter how well you do, even if you miss every note. so you can just...tap occasionally to restart it and get the same effect. if it's a battle one, you do have to actually win to get the item, but once you figure out the sweet spot of a team setup + highest battle level where you win every time, it becomes basically the same deal.

so...yeah, tl;dr you can get away with a lot just by setting things up to run in the background and paying just enough attention to tap through some of the menus. it does require a certain amount of time to just leave your phone while still sorta-kinda paying attention to it, so it might not work for everyone, but that's the best way I've found to get through most events!

[soullessjack]

so before I conk out for the night I wanna try and explain all the more complicated stuff with baby!jack and like, how exactly it is more complicated, because not only do I think my own temper tends to make me address it very accusingly and in bad-faith, but also it’s just important to know in the long run. I really hope this is actually worth it because I am sadly very used to wasting my words on people who do not want to listen and also because I’m sleepy and delaying it to make this.

•••

first and foremost, jack being autistic was not something anybody in the show was planning or intending for his character. it wasn’t something alcal had in his head to portray jack and it wasn’t something he was directed to portray. jack is very much a case of what I call accidental autism, or having autism coding; all of the traits that were meant to indicate that he’s a supernatural being wound up aligning very well with autistic traits (as is the case with many nonhuman characters like robots or aliens). then, autistic people in the fandom pointed it out and made it a popular headcanon, which was then brought up to alcal at a convention and basically confirmed/canonized from there.

i wasn’t on tumblr in 2017 (unless you count opening link tabs from other websites) so I wasn’t “there” for babyjack, but you don’t really have to be there to get it. guy is chronologically three years old but an adult in every other way because supernatural creature logic, people wonder “hey what if he was his actual age.” and it’s cute for a little bit, it’s a chance for the poor heavily traumatized guy to catch a break. you see the appeal of that sort of content. nobody’s doing it with bad intentions or even the remotest idea of jack being autistic.

but even though I wasn’t on tumblr for jacks appearance on the show, again I did have minor access to tumblr posts via Pinterest and links, so I could see the “discussions” and whatever. and let me tell you. I was thirteen years old. in eighth grade. when he showed up. and even then I noticed this .. pattern? in the fanart and the talk and all and I remember specifically thinking “yeah I get it he’s baby, but can we actually talk about him” because literally nobody as far as I could see was doing it.

that was six-almost-seven years ago. I am now 19 years old, almost two years graduated from high school, and save for a few blogs (bless u for your work folks), there is still a shocking amount of ppl who just Do Not think about jack with any sort of nuance or complexity. who don’t even engage w his character unless he’s a babyI also didn’t keep up with babyjack cuz it never appealed to me in the first place, But as i got more engrossed in the fandom i saw that it pretty much became the only content being made for jacks character. no in depth discussion or actual canon fanart or anything like that for jack unless u go to a very tiny cobwebby corner of the fandom basically.

•••

if you’re wondering how this comes back to jack being autistic, don’t worry. this is the introduction to that topic. so reiterating the first two things:

in 2017 jack is immediately clocked as precious baby smol bean must protecc material and his whole age situation + all the trauma he basically speedruns leads to au’s where he matches his chronological age. poor boy never stood a chance at being examined critically as a complex person.

(also this is not a time-lined post but it’s very important to add 2017 to gauge the span of this content and also the internet fandom culture of that era).

somewhere down the line autistic fans pick up on Jack’s traits and connect it to our own traits. hashtag autistic jack kline is real and eventually it reaches the silly actor man alcal and the long short of his answer is “representation and having that kind of connection is important so if you think he’s autistic then he’s autistic.” canon by destiel rules basically

However, the entire time that jack is being recognized as autistic and praised/appreciated as representation, people are still going strong with baby!jack content, so strong in fact that it’s insisted as actual canon by some. and I kind of get it. they’re two lil headcanon niches and aren’t gonna cross paths a whole lot. but they still do because it’s the same character and people are sort of starting to connect the dots that Hey This Is Kind Of Weird. autism gang notices that baby gang’s reasoning for Jack being a baby (besides the age) is just his autistic traits. not great! not fun! people start making tiny criticisms of it here and there.

and of course there’s people in the fandom who want to Fuck The Guy and that totally does not pour gasoline on the fire when the discourse is about whether or not the Guy In Question is a mentally stunted large child or just a really autistic teenager.

.

I can’t finish this post I’m sorry I am Not going to bed at 3am again. TLDR every criticism is ignored and the babyjack people keep doing their thang and the really really annoying ones insist it’s canon and call u a pedophile if u want to fuck the guy and just refuse to really acknowledge that they are being ableist at the point in time after he is established to be autistic and also there’s multiple points in the show that literally make it so obvious he’s an adult but no. Ignore whatever u want to pretend he’s a baby.

TLDR again accidentally autistic character creates accidental ableism that people keep double downing on and NOW the general problem is that they are doubling down.

lastly. a LOT of you really and truly need to reconsider why the only way you are willing or able to engage with an autistic teenager character is if they are an infant with absolutely no semblance of personality or development from the actual show AND being specifically depicted this way in order to create the idea of your ship or found family being domestic AND you continuously ignore criticisms of it by autistic people who are telling you it is harmful and rooted in some bad shit. you really really truly genuinely no exaggeration really need to do some thinking about why the fuck you’re doing all that. Goodnight everybody

[kadextra]

crazy how I’ve been here in the qsmp community since day one o_o wanted to write up a thing

to start, my mutuals and followers. ough wow we’ve really gone through it omg. abrazo 🫂❤️

now a bit about what I’m gonna do going forward: this has been greatly emotionally exhausting, today was hard im not gonna lie. I cried so much <3 plus life’s been busy lately. I am gonna take a step away and focus on things that need attention, some of my other interests too. I might not be here for a few days also, but rest assured!! I’ll be back and I don’t see myself leaving the qsmpblr space permanently

I’m still going to check on how everything is doing and chat with you guys about stuff, maybe post some analysis and fanarts even if i’m not as active. I will ofc see what bbh does next and tune into streams every so often when I have time, since he is a creator I enjoy and respect. I want to see what pac e mike do too, murder mystery was fantastic :D

no matter what, this community will be special to me, you’re all lovely. this server has been a unique experience with so much heart and soul put in by lots of passionate people

it succeeded in breaking down barriers of language and connected people who never would’ve met. traveling through the old spawn again also just goes to show how each little thing is a story with emotional weight we were part of. I will hold dearly the mysterious, funny, or heartbreaking stories that were told- and especially the countless late nights spent watching shenanigans of a demon and his three kids bc I needed their entertainment as my company. now recorded into this blog and my memory

so much fun the past year learning about different cultures, getting scared at The Horrors with everyone, drawing, crying, smiling at sweet heartwarming things. all the adventures and hellos / goodbyes we’ve had together with our favorite little cubitos and pixel eggs….

I think its a blessing being able to love something to the point it makes you cry when a goodbye arrives. because a piece of it settled into your heart that is important to you, no matter what it is or how long it was there for. it means something to us, we live carrying on those feelings & lessons for the rest of our life bc we are tapestries of everything we have ever loved

it really is all about love <3

[littlerequiem]

🎈🎂🎁🎉❤️HAPPY BIRTHDAY FLO!!!❤️🎉🎁🎂🎈

May this day be full of love, joy & gifts!!

Sending lots of love ❤️

*****

Artist @xxzoeyu (reposts authorized with credit) / Original Tumblr post HERE

VAL, thank you so much (for your wishes and for the fanart, HOLY MOLY, i am feeling blessed). I hope you're doing well 🤍

It snowed last night & I'm very excited to go and enjoy it!

Gros bisous 😘

[vidjausers-fable]

PenPals(Veneer x OC)Chapter 3

Previous chapter

Author’s Note: No fanart this time but if you’re interested in seeing more check me out on Twitter, Tik Tok, and Instagram under Vidjauser! Thank you to my bestie, @tinalbion, for beta reading for me. <3

***

Veneer returned to the library for his rec time the next morning. He wasn’t sure where Velvet had gone for hers, if she even had anymore rec time left. She’d thrown a fit right before bed last night and kept everyone else up until 3 am, even Veneer. Guards didn’t take it kindly when they had tired and grouchy teens to deal with, so she was most likely back in their room.

When he was back in the library, it wasn’t hard to finish the rest of the letter. The blessed silence and the lack of Velvet’s presence helped him focus better, especially when she was always breathing down his neck, wanting to snoop. The hard part was not to overthink what he had written, and to give it to Linda to send out to Avery. The girl on the other side of the letter sounded nice, and seemed to have a unique life outside of this stupid facility. He ached for that kind of life, even if it wasn’t filled with fame or money. He just needed to get out of there. His tactics of actually trying to learn and listen was paying off while his sister was paying the consequences of being the rebel. 

Veneer read over the last part of his letter again. 

I can’t wait to get to know you better…I don’t know much to share about myself. I find myself discovering things I didn’t know about myself from when I was outside. I love fashion, I recently discovered. There’s these cool magazines—a bit outdated—and it’s fun to sketch the designs in them. Of course, I won’t take credit for them. Though I think it would be fun to explore fashion when I’m back out in the world. My counselor says I should consider looking into higher education for it. I’m holding out hope they would let someone like me in despite my track record. Can you tell me a little more about your job?

Until next time, 

Samson

Veneer was anxious about using a pseudonym, but after his and his sister’s scandal in Mount Rageous, he knew that his name would be known. Avery would probably call him names, or treat him like crap, and then reject him. He wanted her to get to know him first before he revealed his true identity. Other than his name, he was going to be 100 percent honest with Avery and luckily she was being respectful of how he felt about his lock-up. 

Everything in his letter was spelled correctly, and his writing was legible. Alright, he was ready to send it. He stood and turned to the guard who was posted at the front of the library. “I just finished my letter, can I leave my rec time early to drop it off to my counselor?” he asked.

The guard nodded his head, “Yes, but you will have to wait for someone to come here to guide you.” He took his walkie talkie, saying a code that Veneer didn’t understand. “Got an inmate here that needs transportation. Over.”

Inmate, Veneer hated that word. He liked how Linda called him a patient instead. 

The two of them waited until another guard was there. Veneer was guided to his counselor. Her door was closed at the moment, so it meant that she had another patient with her, so, he sat down patiently in the lobby chairs while the guard stood toward the door, his expression blank. Veneer had the time to wait, and he was feeling anxious about it, so he took out the letter and read it one last time as he waited for the door to open. 

It was twenty minutes before the door opened and one of the other patients he didn’t recognize left. Linda poked her head out after and smiled at Veneer. 

“Well howdy! You can’t seem to stay away, can you, Veneer? What can I do for you this morning?” she asked cheerily. She waved her hand at him, “Come on in.”

Veneer stood outside her door and held up the letter. “I…I finished the letter. I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to take it to you or the mailroom.” He extended the letter out to the woman. “It’s ready to be sent out.”

Linda smiled softly and put her hand on the letter, pushing it more toward him. “Take it to the mailroom, sweetie. They’ll double check that the letter is appropriate to send, okay? Tell them that it’s for your pen pal and then your name. The address will be in their system, so they’ll handle everything else for you. Is there anything else you need before you head over there? I bet your pen pal is going to be excited about your letter.”

Veneer shook his head. “No! I think I’m okay. Thank you.” He smiled. “Yeah, I hope she’ll like it.” He turned toward the guard, who would then take him to the mailroom, which was close to the cafeteria; the smell of food was making him hungry for lunch. After he approached the counter, he had to wait a moment before the mail attendant came up to the little window. He was tall, pale from working inside all day, and dark haired. He was intimidating to Veneer so the male chewed his bottom lip nervously. He had never met any of the mailroom attendants personally. 

“What do you want?” he asked gruffly. 

“I have a letter to my pen pal attendant. My name is Veneer.” He handed the unsealed envelope. It was snatched out of his hands, so he took his hands back and tucked them behind his back. He then just stood there awkwardly for moment as the attendant held his letter in a way that didn’t make Veneer happy.

The mail attendant just glared. “What else do you want?”

Veneer froze momentarily. C’mon, no one was really as scary as his sister, so why was this guy making him feel so small?

Clearing his throat, he answered, “Is there…Possible incoming mail from my parents? I haven’t been told, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to double check…If that’s okay.”

The mail attendant rolled his eyes and looked at the computer, his hands going to the keyboard before typing away fast. Veneer wasn’t sure how long he had been working that day, but he already looked like he was tired and wanted to go home and it was still the morning. “Name?” he grunted. 

Veneer answered with a gulp, “Veneer, sir.”

The attendant’s hands typed fast before he answered quite abruptly, “No.” He turned his back to him and returned to his work of sorting mail in the back, leaving Veneer’s heart to pound in his chest. Yeah, Linda was much nicer than whoever that man was. People who acted crappy for no reason were the reason he had some…anxieties.

A sense of disappointment swelled in Veneer’s chest as he stepped away from the counter, turning to the guard. He didn’t notice that his feet began to walk on their own, following the guard back to his cell since rec time was over. His mind was lost in thought about his parents. The moment he made his confession on live TV, there had been no turning back. Surely they had watched the whole thing and knew the truth. After that, they made one public statement that they would pay everyone back and never contact their kids again. Sure enough, that was what happened. Veneer had sent a couple letters, but who knew if they lived where they used to. Veneer never received a letter back from them. He never even got a phone call.

One of the vital steps in getting out of the Correctional Facility was to have a home already set up to move into when released. The facility refused to send anyone out to an improper home, or worse—the streets. Where would Veneer go if his parents had fully disowned him? He would have to learn to live on his own, especially since he knew that he would get out before his sister. He didn’t even know how to function by himself, let alone learn how to rent somewhere and be independent. He would ask Linda if there was a program he could attend to help that transition. 

Not long after, Veneer was back in his cell, sitting at his desk. Velvet wasn’t there, so he wondered where she had gone since she had still been there when he left that morning. He turned to the guard before he could wander too far from him, “Hey, where did my sister go?” he asked. 

“I dunno,” the guard replied, “Let me check.” He tilted his head away and pressed his walkie talkie, “Just wanted to double check the location of patient Velvet. She’s not in her cell. Over.” There was static for a moment before his expression changed entirely, worrying Veneer when he saw his eyes widen in surprise. “She what? Okay. Yes, I understand. Over.” He lowered his hand. 

Veneer now stood at the cell, his hands on the bars. “What happened to my sister?” he asked anxiously. The guard answered with a disappointed sigh, “She attempted to escape again, bud. She was on her way to a mandatory meeting with her counselor before shoving a guard and making a run for it. She only got far enough because when she pushed the guard, he hit his head on a metal pipe on the way down. Apparently he bled a little and he fell into unconsciousness. Luckily, he’s not dead.”

At the mention of blood, Veneer somehow paled. “She did…? Where’s she at right now? Is she going to be back?”

“She’s screaming and throwing a fit in a holding cell. Looks like you might have a day or two to yourself while she calms down and has therapy from within her cell.” He shrugged, “I dunno how that stuff all works anyway. You don’t want to worry about it, though I'll have to keep an extra eye on you a bit harder for now. Just a part of protocall.”

“That makes sense, but it’s not like I’m going to do anything. Man…I hope she’s not in too much trouble…” Veneer said the last part aloud but mostly to himself, allowing himself to step away from the bars. 

“I can’t disclose that information…but let’s just say she’s not going to be back for a few days.”

Veneer nodded. He returned to his desk and looked at Avery's first letter, admiring her handwriting. He realized that he wanted to write back to her already, as if the conversation they shared on paper would help him cope with what was going on right now, but it would be worthless considering he already sent a letter that day.

Veneer chose not to and took out one of the magazines he was allowed to bring back to his room, and read to calm himself down.

Why couldn’t his sister just behave?

***

After another long shift, there was nothing more that Avery wanted to do than stick her feet into a bucket of warm water with her Guinea pigs in her arms, and her favorite sitcom on the television. Her feet ached as she walked into the lobby of the apartments around ten at night. There had been plenty of workers to close that night, so she was sent home early since she came in early. The lights were dimmed and the volume of the TV in the community space was lowered to a single digit. There wasn’t a soul in sight. It was oddly peaceful. 

Avery took her key ring to the lobby, heading toward the mail room. The mail hadn’t been there before she left for work, which was common. Getting her mail, she gasped in excitement after she sorted through the mail. There was a letter from the correctional facility. Which meant she got her first letter from her pen pal!

“Oh my god! He wrote me back!” she gasped.

With a sudden burst of energy, Avery raced to the elevator, which took her to the third floor. She tried not to stomp around, as to not wake anyone up. She made it to her room without trouble and set all her stuff down on the ground next to the couch, sitting on the right side. She threw the other mail and bills to the end table and stared at the mail she wanted to read the most. 

Using as much self control as she could, she opened the envelope without tearing the inner letter. She was surprised the deeper she read into the letter. Samson…What a sweet name, she thought to herself, wondering what he looked like.

Somehow, the world felt less lonely just by reading this letter. She felt as though this pen pal program would be helping her as well. Maybe she would start to feel better about herself and everything going on.

Avery finished the letter and couldn’t stop smiling. It didn’t matter that her body was aching from work, or that her feet were sore from the skates. She was happy at that moment, learning more about Samson. She wanted to write another letter back immediately, and wanted to send it tomorrow. It already felt as though she could get used to this addictive feeling of positive attention from her new friend. She wanted to get to know Samson more. Maybe if they continued to hit it off, she could call or visit him. 

“Don’t think too far ahead…Don’t start making up silly little stories in your head.” She carefully folded the letter back up and slipped it back into the envelope, setting it aside. She still had to shower and get ready for bed before she got too sleepy. The letter would have to wait until tomorrow, even if she didn’t want to.

There were harmonious squeaking from across the room. Avery giggled and stood, going to her attention seeking little pets. “Yes, I know, I know. You want out, but it’s close to bedtime and I would have to put you back in less than a half hour. I’ll let you out tomorrow morning, and then you’ll be able to roam for hours!” She picked her two pets up and kissed their heads each and then put them back down. After that, she showered and went to bed. 

Tomorrow she had the night off for once, so it was a chore and errand day. Many thoughts ran through her head—what she had to do tomorrow, and what she wanted to write to Samson—but soon she fell asleep to the sound of rain playing through her phone.

Avery awoke to loud squeaking from the living room, and groaned. Great, the one day she didn’t have to set an alarm clock, and her pets woke her up. She sat up, sore from the night before, and slipped out of bed, sliding her feet into her house slippers so her feet were warm. “I’m commmmmmming,” she said to her pets, yawning at the end of the word. “You two are complete brats.”

Two blobs of fur were squished in the corner that was closer to her bedroom door. Seeing it made Avery giggle sleepily. “Alright, I’m not longer mad that you guys woke me up.” She took the Guinea Pig snacks that were set on the end table near their cage, where all their food and other supplies were located. She picked both up and sat on the floor, laying them in her lap. “Good morning to you two as well,” she chuckled, picking hay out of their fur as they ate the snacks. She had these two for a whole year, and they were her best friends. 

Smiling, she took a picture of them in her lap with her phone. “I’ll get these printed and send them to Samson. He might like you guys.” 

Avery set them back on the ground and took their food and water, throwing it out and replacing it with fresh food and water. They circled her ankles until she placed the bowls outside of their cage, letting them free roam while she did other things around the apartment. She was usually a clean person, so her chores didn’t take too long. What took the longest was the laundry, which luckily her unit had its own washer and dryer for everyone.

When all she had to do was laundry, Avery sat down with Samson’s letter and smiled as she read over it again, trying to plan what she wanted to write back. He deserved a long heartfelt letter, rather than a quick and lazy response. He liked fashion? That was an interesting take. That wasn’t something she would ever imagine from a male in a correctional facility. She wanted to ask him what his favorite sort of fashion was, and while she wasn’t too into the details of clothes, she did like browsing them. She made sure to take note of these questions on paper that she usually did her grocery list on. Which, by the way, she needed to get done before she threw anything in the washer. 

Avery held both papers in her hands and looked back and forth between the two. Well…there were a few things that she could get for a male. Was it too early to be sending gifts to him? Nah, she didn’t think so. After adding sketchbook, and fashion magazines down, she decided to go shopping for the male, wanting to make sure her next letter contained a present for him. 

A week had passed since Veneer had sent his letter, and since his sister had been placed into solitary confinement. Apparently the guard she had shoved needed a few stitches, so she was in extra trouble for getting the guard injured while on the job. He didn’t feel guilty for his sister however, it meant that he had a few days to himself before she could return. He knew the process—she’d been through it a couple of times now. She had to be evaluated for her mental stability and whether he would be a threat to herself or others. Though it had never taken this long before, and it surprised him. 

Veneer groaned as he flipped through his magazine for the fifth time. It was a few editions old, and it seemed that the Library was taking a sweet time filling his request for getting the latest editions for him to read. For now he was stuck rereading these ones, and by now he had every page memorized.

Veneer abruptly stopped when he came across a page with two familiar icons. Him and Velvet when they were popstars. When they were frauds. He didn’t like the memories that filled his head.

“Dammit…” He grumbled and flipped the pages closed, slamming his hand down on top of the cover. He was bored, and without much to do. He leaned on his elbow, his fingers tapping against his face. Could he request some TV time in the rec room? No, he couldn’t take advantage of his position as a model patient.

A guard approached his cell from the corner of his eyes, catching his attention. He looked for his sister everywhere around the guard and listened for her screaming, but there was nothing. The guard whispered something to the one stationed outside his cell, then left. Veneer stood as if he already knew that the guard wished to talk to him. 

Sure enough, he was right. The guard walked right up to the cell with something in his hands. It was a medium sized box. “Veneer, you have a package from the mailroom. Here you go.” Since Velvet wasn’t there, he was free to open the cell door and hand over the box to Veneer. 

Veneer frowned at first. A package? Who on earth would send him a package? He quickly shrugged off that expression and nodded, “Strange…? I don’t know who would even want to send me this. But thank you for bringing it to me. Did it just now come in?”

“It came in this morning, like all the other mail. Then the packages get checked for contraband, you know?” 

“Ah, yes…I forgot. I’m not exactly used to being sent mail you know,” Veneer sounded a little sassy, but honest. The guard didn’t seem to mind anyway and returned to his post, taking his rounds up and down the hallway now and then. 

Veneer slightly shook the box. It didn’t feel too heavy, but he was still curious about what was inside. His first thought was his parents—had they sent him something? No, he felt as though they wouldn’t, not without talking to him first. He sat down at his desk and opened the box, and gasped when he saw what was inside. There were magazines in plastic sleeves! The Library must have fulfilled his request for the new magazines he wanted! 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He gasped, taking the magazines out without checking the rest of the box. Though there was something strange...Why would the Library send the request directly to him? He looked over to the guard’s post, wanting to ask him something, but the guard was not there. 

“Strange…But wouldn’t this go to the Library if I requested it there…?” he asked himself, and just in case, he made sure to take them carefully out of the plastic, afraid that the Library would be upset with him if he somehow destroyed the magazines before they even got them. He grabbed the box and picked it up to place on the ground, but it was still heavy. He pushed around the tissue paper inside when his eyes widened. 

There was more in the box. There was a whole sketchbook! When he delicately picked it up, he saw a letter down at the bottom of the box and a little note next to it that read: I hope I’m not rushing this forward, but I hope you like the gift. I think it’s unique that you like fashion and art. You don’t have to force yourself, but I would love to see anything you sketch! Love, Avery.

Veneer slowly cupped a hand over his mouth, feeling tears in his eyes. A gift? For him? He carefully peeled open the letter, which had photos of two cute furry creatures. 

Dear Samson, 

Yes, I know, it’s a bit too early to be sending a gift to you, but I just had to get these for you when I was grocery shopping. I think it’s amazing that you have a passion, and I want to help you be able to pursue it, even through these small gifts. So hopefully you can sketch me a new outfit or a better uniform for my work! I would draw it for you if I could, but my drawings are more like chicken scratch, but I’ll maybe send a picture so you can do it!

Veneer smiled at a badly drawn pizza with fat pepperonis and mushrooms to the side. 

These are pictures of my two piggies. Jams is my brown one, and Garry is the one with the multicolored patches. I’ve had them for about a year, but they’re my whole world. At the end of a long work day, I lay down and cuddle them for hours. I hope you think they’re cute!

Veneer smiled as he read the rest of the letter, keeping it to himself. 

[trevorendeavors]

So. That Florida Bathroom Bill, huh?

TW: bathroom bills, transphobia, internalized transphobia.

I ain’t beating around the bush. I will be using strong language here. If that ain’t your cup of tea or if you’re just here for my usual brand of gay fanart and fic, it’s okay to scroll past this post. Really. I won’t judge. This is one doozy of a vent.

For the people in my DMs asking me if I’m okay (as a trans person in Florida considering recent bathroom bill bullshit) I’m just… sitting here with an exasperated sigh.

It’s funny that the first time I hear of this is from a DM from someone on the other side of the world. I’ve been deliberately avoiding lgbt Florida news for some time because the more I think about it, the harder it is to be civil in transphobic conversations.

Last night I was deadnamed in front of a few people, and today at my graduation I’ll likely be deadnamed in front of a whole convention center. That’s what I get for not changing my name legally, huh. Oh well. Didn’t wanna go through all the paperwork just yet (in case I go for a different name) so I’m stuck with the one I’m sure I don’t want.

So again, I try not to think about it.

But yeah. It sucks.

Honestly? The bathroom bill doesn’t change much for me. It’s still the same shit as always.

The one time I went into the men’s restroom, I freaked out a cis guy so badly (poor dude was genuinely scared of ME accusing HIM of something bad) that I never did that again.

As for women’s restrooms (the one I most frequently use) that’s a whole other deal. Most days, I don’t pass. I’ll just go out and say that. I have a high voice, boobs, and a bit of hips. Some days I dress really feminine too, so it only makes sense. No one here is going to buy “see I LOOK like a woman but no see I’m secretly a ‘man but not quite’ inside but I wear makeup as a kind of exaggerated cosplay of a gender I am NOT, y’see?”

I don’t want to have a nuanced discussion of gender in the bathroom. Most people 30+ in age don’t even know what non-binary is and barely get the concept of trans. As much as I love being and educator and advocate, after a long road trip I want to piss and get on with my life. Also cis men have told me the horror stories of male bathrooms (how do you get shit ON the ceiling????) and then I’m thankful to have been “born a woman” or whatever.

Most days I don’t think about it too hard. But on my more dysphoric days or when on the blessed days I do genuinely pass more masc - when I go into the bathroom looking like this:

I genuinely don’t know which bathroom to use.

It’s embarrassing. Especially when there’s no family restroom available. And when I go to the women’s restroom, I sometimes get these looks. Brief, surreptitious glances they think I don’t notice. To ease tensions, I lift my pitch and give a compliment. I even puff out my (binded) breasts slightly as if to say, “Yes, I have tits and a pussy, does that soothe your cisnormative and petty fears that I would assault you?”

Jesus, some days I wish I could say that quote outright. But I can’t, and I know it’s not fair to them. They’re scared, I get it. I remind them of a traumatic experience. Sometimes, certain people who have nothing to do a trauma invoke fears of it unintentionally by raising their voices or saying something off or even existing. But that’s MY responsibility to fucking deal with that. Other people can’t help existing.

By and large, people with transphobic tendencies here are usually nice. Beyond, nice even. They’ll help you host a spontaneous ice cream party. They’ll buy you allergy meds when you’re choking. They’ll take you in after your mother kicked you out. Like I said, genuinely sweet and kind people.

Which makes it harder when they accuse trans people of transitioning to skirt military drafts, to cheat at sports, to deal with mommy issues. When they equate gays to sex crimes (yes, the ones you’re thinking of). When they refuse to call you your full name. When they call you a baby who refuses to clean her pooped diapers.

I try to be nice. But by god, is my patience waning…

By. Fucking. god.

I’m tired of the way it’s affected me. Making me feel worth less than cis folks, like my feelings matter less. Even worse, I hate how it makes me jealous and spiteful towards younger trans folks in better situations. Younger trans folk I don’t understand. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not an excuse to mistreat them the way I was mistreated. And I’m genuinely glad that they’re living a better life. I have to work on these thoughts, it’s my responsibility. It would be nice, though, to live in a world where I could devote more energy to celebrating our collective existence instead of surviving it.

That being said, I’m grateful for the people here and in person who have stuck by my guns. The people who check in on my when shit gets worse in terms of politics.

What helps most?

What really helps is when people get mad WITH me. For so long I was told my anger was something to be stowed away, to be quietly extinguished with calm words or relieved by some masturbatory exercise of civil discourse. You know. Where you get off to talking civilly but don’t actually get anywhere and you still have to live in a world that was just as transphobic as before. I just want people to be pissed WITH me. To share in my anger and frustration. To join me as I slam the desk, flip the table, and cry to the heavens,

This fucking sucks

Right now this matters to me even more than action. These check ins, sharing in my anger - it helps, it really does. Makes me feel less alone in the world.

[stingslikeabee]

happy new year and 2022′s follow forever!

I feel I say this every year - but 2022 was the most challenging year for me thus far. From living entirely by myself in a foreign country while studying my ass off to surviving the most critical election that my country has faced since our (very young) re-democratization - it has been a lot. It has been exhausting, daunting and frightening for a myriad of reasons and yet this place (and you guys) have helped me survive it all.

New fandoms, new muses, new connections - 2022 introduced me to some lovely mutuals who have been more than roleplay partners; it solidified older friendships, as well! I couldn’t possibly go on and head into the new year without acknowledging some very special souls who made all the difference during these last months and to whom I credit part of my success of writing this with a smile on my face. :)

@sixthxchairman: YOU. YOU AMAZING HUMAN. I have no words to explain how much I love you and the immensely positive impact you’ve had on my life, Dawn. This time, last year, I was already in awe at how much I had grown to love and care for Daigo and all our plotting; one year later and we have a MULTIVERSE. You are responsible for rekindling my passion for a franchise to the point of picking up Akiyama, you have been the one person I couldn’t go a day without dropping by to say hello, you’ve kept me company during bleak hours and complicated times of my life and all I can say is a huge ‘thank you’. I love the fanart we commissioned, the gifts we exchanged, the movie night experience! It feels like I’ve known you forever and I cannot wait until we finally meet and fangirl in person. <3 Honestly, you’re incredible and I’m grateful for having you every day! A day without my daily Down dose (wohoo alliteration!) is not a happy one.

@cwarscars: Han, my love, the owner of the sexiest voice ever, the best doggo groomer in all of the UK - I am so happy to see you writing for my favorite villain of the FFVII franchise but also for being who you are. You just are so incredible kind, always willing to give everyone a chance and such a blessed brain with all these delightful ideas and well-rounded portrayals that I could go on for hours about. I am thrilled to remain your friend after 3 years, and it feels symbolic that we have returned to Heidegger and Melissa at the closing of 2022 since this is where it all started! I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all the love and support for my OC when she was still a FFVII side piece and giving her space to shine. You rock!

@5judgements: Chelsea - you have given me the GIFT of writing Melissa in one of my favorite verses, as well as allowing me to fully flesh her FFXII persona and build upon the lore of my favorite FF entry. I will never be over the fact you made me soft for all judge magisters (BUT BERGAN, NOT YOU BERGAN) and how much we’ve picked this game apart to make it our own. It’s been an incredible experience and you’re such a talented, amazing writer! I am constantly in awe of everything you do and making grabby hands at your other muses (even if they are not heavily armored, haha) because you are so compelling when writing them. I am very proud to know that my legacy to you is being remembered whenever Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ come on the radio. :D

@kansaisdragon: Atlas, sweetheart - please know I’ll forever cherish the fact we’ll be both going broke over Akiyama together; it’s fun to make bad decisions in good company! :D But also - I am so immensely grateful for the time, interest and incredible writing you have given me during these last months. You have singlehandedly transformed my opinion on Ryuji, amused me with your own take on Akiyama, then watched me struggle with Kuwana and swing like a pendulum where my thoughts about him are concerned. I’m also in awe of how clearly you get their voices - and I’m always happy to see you around. I hope there’s much more for us in 2023!

@iosonostanco: GABE, WE DID IT. WE FINALLY MET EACH OTHER. To think a mere DM over tumblr from 2016 would get us to actually see each other and have real life adventures! I’ll never be able to thank you enough for being such a great friend - online and offline, for all these years. I’m so grateful for all the memories we made and to have your bastard, little shithead of a son back (and I mean this VERY lovingly). It’s easy to forget we met through roleplay given everything we’ve done and talked about - just know that I appreciate you immensely and I hope I can return the gracious hosting you’ve offered me in France one day! :D

@svnsworn: Liiiiiight - you know, I feel I don’t say this very often, but you are incredible. You have always been a consistent source of talent and positivity in the dash, with a jaw-dropping range and always so welcoming and friendly towards every new fandom or experience. I am so happy we have never lost sight of each other since we found each other on the FFVII fandom and I’m incredibly excited to dive head first into the PtN addiction with you. :D I love you lots, you’re in my inner circle of precious moots and I know you say we’re all rockstars but you know what? I play the reverse card on this and call myself your dedicated groupie! :3 I’ll always follow you and your children, no matter how different our fandoms are - you just shine all the way.

@exboost & @healthkits: I’m tagging both these blogs because I want you to read this, Lance - BECAUSE YOU ARE AWESOME. From the first day we really got to talking thanks to my Judgment ramblings, you have been nothing but this super welcoming and cheerful person and listen - I can talk so much and so fast and to have someone not being intimidated by my words-per-minute average is a blessing. I love reading about your takes and opinions and I’m forever screaming at the fact you have welcomed my girl (and Akiyama!) with such open arms into your children’s lives. Besides - I love how we just click, culturally wise. We definitely are close siblings (or cousins) and I love to see it, really!

@gbrnth: Linda! I’ll say that first of all, I’m happy you found your way back here and that we got to trade discords because it’s been so good to chat and watch our kids make bad decisions! It’s like a trainwreck - but of the good kind. I love FFXII immensely and to have been accepted by you & your son with Melissa being her infuriating little self was so good and is so fun! I love that we got to write again and I’m sincerely hoping our work/professional endeavors never fully remove the time to indulge in this hobby of ours. Have a lovely 2023!

@marie-dufresne: Frenchie, I wanted to include you here and give you a shout out because... Girl, you’re such an inspiration. I know we took ages to follow each other but gosh I love how excited you are about Marie, how incredibly talented you are with your hobbies and to know I just have you & Marie as some sort of sister figure to myself & Melissa where allowing our daughters questionable taste in men is concerned (alas, irl you are VASTLY superior to me haha I wish I had your aptitude for so many artistic endeavors!). I have enjoyed reading about Marie and knowing more about her a ton, and I really hope to see more (as chaotic as things can be on your personal side of things with the new kid and everything). I hope you have a great 2023!

@famuran: Cadewyn, my beloved - please know that I’m eternally grateful for all the support you have offered me offline this year. I think very few people have been so outspoken and firmly congratulated me for leaving my country behind and embracing a life-changing move (literally!). You have cheered me up and encouraged me when I faltered and this is so precious to me. And of course - your son will never not be my favorite sky pirate. I’m always happy to see you gracing the dash with your talent and I hope you continue to do so in 2023! :3

@shinrasfirst: You know, Min - maybe I wouldn’t have met the deadline for the applications of my masters if it hadn’t been for you. XD For this - and all the lovely capybara shitposting and mutual support offered in this year, I THANK YOU. You are always a bright, kind and funny presence in my life and I hope it never changes. I’m also determined! To make it! To Viennna! WE ARE SO CLOSE (I mean not right now, but back in February we’ll shift to the same time zone again), I can’t let this chance escape. ;--; No matter where you go fandom wise, I’m sure you’ll rock it. You are epic. YOU ARE INCREDIBLE.

@ivory-paragon: After all these years and you did it. I might have lost your stuff for six months but you did it, you MADE ME SHIP THIS, JAMES. And with a very suitable creepy plot to explain everything and to use as the backdrop to my one-sided novels. ALL JOKES ASIDE - thank you for the good memories and joint plotting this year! :D You’ll never be free of me surging uninvited in your DMs, sir. As a fellow lawyer person, I know things are crazy and busy and I appreciate all the good vibes and positive thoughts you’ve sent my way with my move and everything - I’m hoping you’ll always have success (here and off tumblr, of course!).

@holyguardian & @rebelichor: Muddy, I just wanted to give your girls a shout out (as well as yourself!) because it’s always so good to read you having fun. I know we don’t always interact (but I’m getting there - I AM MAKING A DECENT VERSE OUTLINE FOR ARI) but I just love to see how much passion you have for these two, the range you can get while keeping them so true to their natures and just your overall happy self around. Real life can be hard, but you’ve always bounced back and I just feel that a dash with Muddy is a better dash. It feels like home to have you writing and creating next door, my follow Southern hemisphere friend. May 2023 treat you better! <3

[poltergeist-coffee]

EMPANADA DIED

MY GIRL NOOOOOO

I'm not okay

She is just a baby:(

On the bright side, fit and pac are dating yay

Uh... I'm not thinking about that post about pac having two hands or something, nope, it's not like eoiles have ttwo hand too, one for fighting other to hold pac's hand...

Polyqsmp for the win, y'know?

Also, Ramon and Pac's relationship is the cutest thing ever, they are father and son your honor 🥺

I love them

At least a couple is okay because guapoduo, on the other hand... meus pais meus pais where are them?

Slimeriana too...

I really want Mariana to log on, but specifically when Richas is awake because it would be funny

Roier traumatized him kkkkkkkk

Oh, and I friend of mine really likes goodomensduo(Scott + Febatista), the thing is that they had very little interactions... The poor guy is suffering with lack of content

The problem of liking not popular dynamics/ships is that you have to make the content yourself

We suffer

Apparently, Cellbit, Slime and Baguera's thing is running their voices on karaoke every time they meet up

They are having fun:D

I don't have that confidence kkkkk(I don't know if I wait or fear the day my friends decide to do a karaoke while I'm with them because they are liking the idea recently)

I was remembering your royal(? Or was medieval, I struggle with names) au the other day and I don't remember if you talked about Baguera's kingdom, or Phil(who is on the wall, the sigh must be nice), does she still a duck?(and the other winged people too?) Or they are just humans?

And I'm fearing that the owl Cellbit hc will catch me, I AM ALREADY A INDECISIVE PERSON I DON'T NEED MORE IDEAS TO FREAK OUT

But I saw some fanarts and... owlboy... I love owls...

Anyway, I hope you had a great day and week:D

Good day/night!

- 🍽

empanada dying was probably an accident too :((( (based on tubbo's analysis on stream) it's so sad :(( she's the first egg to lose a death ever since the new eggs arrived + everyone got their two lives back.... i really thought richas would be the first one to lose a life again ngl just because of how he is

DSVAKLSMDLA PLLATE ANON YOU'RE MY HEROOOOO XDD you're right. etoiles has two hands, one for pac and the other is to fight the eye workers from purgaotry <33 pac has two hands, one for fit and one for etoiles and mike is helping fix his prosthetic leg <33 romance <33 at it's finest

i loved that ramon called pac his dad and mike didn't realize janvkjasdjk he completely forgot that fit and pac dating now meant that ramon is pac's son XDD the favela family grows bigger every day...

i would love for mariana to log on when roier and richas are both on because i want to see roier make a big deal out of it and richas runs for his life XDD i want richas to spread his fear to the new eggs too like imagine how funny that would be asdvkjaska poor pepito,,, being told one of pepito's dad is an egg eating monster

EVERY DUO AND FRIEND GROUP FROM PURGATORY IS SUFFERING!! THEY LIVE OFF OF SO LITTLE CONTENT TT at least they can make up whatever lore they want with the purgaotry cubitos... im shaking your friends hand for liking a rarepair TT we make the content all ourselves... life is so hard for us

ive never done kareoke before but it looks like fun to do with friends :oo i can't sing so i would be so bad at it kjnsdavjkask

-- -- --

YAAA THE ROYALTY AU (which is also a little medieval, it's like both so it's okay adsjkvnask)

baghera is the queen of her own kingdom!! everyone is human in this au but they have magic they specialize in and can create items to give them things that are sort of like wings!!

philza is a special case tho because his wife is the goddess of death so maybe she blesses his cape to act like wings or something... since baghera is a queen im sure she has the resources to find someone to make her a cape or item that works like wings because i feel like something like that would be super hard to make.

jaiden is a witch in this au and she doesn't live in any kingdom!! she lives sort of by herself surrounded by a rose garden and she uses a lot of nature magic which is focused on birds!! because of this and how long she's been studying it she's able to enchant herself a cloack that allows her to glide short distances :DD more similar to the paraglider in mineraft then an elytra. the feathers she used for her cloack were all shedded feathers she gets from her bird friends :]]

-- -- --

IVE NEVER SEEN OR HEARD OF OWL CELLBIT HCS BUT THAT'S SO COOL,,,,,, he would be so unnerving, imagine he can turn his head all around 360 like an actual owl advknaskja poor roier if he ever sees that,,,, he would scream so loud