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#put your skill into work man
sleepyminty · 4 months
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It so funny when canonically yashiki (or kujou) can cook but we have never seen him eat anything decent. Like in dm2, he dead ass eat mushrooms and a doll head. Nearly half of the fandom believed that the overly sugar blood coffee is his main consumption( and lets not forget about the honey he get from the cult). Which is even funnier that one of yashiki random feats is he forgot to eat for an entire week. U got the skill to cook why is your damn diet so cursed??
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fauvester · 26 days
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au where the el tigre tiger spirit is an ancient and sort of prehistoric spirit in the wildest reaches of the ghost zone, and the belt allows it to like... 1/4 possess someone (just giving them some extra powers [including retractible chain hands?? ghosts, idk] without affecting their personality)
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arsenicflame · 2 months
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(in general, removed from any specific au's where he needs to swim/not swim for Plot)
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(personally, i think my stance is that he has some ability to keep himself afloat in calmer waters- on the shore or in a pool- but not in the way where its a particular skill. hes spend enough time dicking around in the shallows with Jack & Sam & Ed to know how to handle himself in water where he cant consistently reach the bottom, to feel comfortable cooling off by a waterfall, but is also keenly aware that if he goes overboard, even in relatively calm waters, being able to swim isnt going to do anything to save his life if a dinghy isnt sent. hes not gonna drown the second he's in the ocean or anything, but hes screwed if the waters a little too rough or its late or a raid and it isnt noticed before the ships a way away.)
#this came to mind bc i was writing a thing that had this 'of course izzy cant swim' moment and i suddenly realised. i dont know where people#stand on this. god knows i love a drowning fic but thats situational not swimming to me. for the whump#doesnt mean you think he has no swimming skills; you gotta put that man in a Predicament#so! poll#this was gonna be a yes/no/other poll buuuut i ended up deciding to add treading water (type things) as an option in the poll#because i figured itd be the most common nuance take (its my take after all) and id rather leave nuance for people who have unique ideas#(and maybe some people will consider treading water as just swimming too so. fair divide! give u ur own special button for Statistics)#ok but actually tell me your headcanons. tell meeeeee#nyxtalks#ofmd#our flag means death#izzy hands#israel hands#additional: i say stay afloat bc i dont see it as a traditional tread water as such. more like... leaning into natural buoyancy?#like how you can lie on your back and float. hes completely untrained but he has something that works for him#ed can swim btw. it was something he wanted to learn so he did. but hes never had any interest in teaching izzy#(this will come back to bite him later)#hes occasionally raised it with izzy; when hes doing laps in a quiet spring they found. but the topic switched and it never went anywhere#(i debated adding my personal comments to the op for a while but. i like hearing what other people have to say. so.)
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devilsskettle · 6 months
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i've watched a lot of good films lately in an attempt to catch up with a bunch of movies that have come out recently, but talk to me was the best movie i've seen in a LONG time
#i put off watching it for so long because i was sure it was overrated + i'm generally not a fan of possession movies#(because so many of them try to be the exorcist and they will never be the exorcist. you know how it is)#but holy shit. genuinely a brilliant movie in every aspect of filmmaking + completely aligned with my personal taste#+ exactly what i look for thematically in possession and/or ghost movies#+ the absolute perfect balance between psychological and gory#and like i said SUCH a good cold opening#tbh i think it's a useful trick to know how to get your audience to buy into a supernatural premise from the very first scene#i think that takes some VERY effective + skillful writing and directing#and as someone who again typically does NOT like possession movies i usually end the movie NEVER buying into the story#not because i'm a 'skeptic' or whatever just because the writing doesn't do the work#but SCENE ONE of this movie i was so in it#anyway. movee of all time to me#also from the trailers etc i had thought that that fluffy yellow sweatshirt mia wears at the beginning of the movie was a bathrobe lmao#my first impression of what this movie was gonna be like was NOT correct#anyway 'recently' means in the past 2 years i guess?#actually maybe this post was a lie because i LOVED nope which was also just an absolute cinematic masterpiece#anytime i watch a jordan peele movie it's just like. this man is so far beyond any other filmmaker out there right now#it's almost unfair to watch lol like an olympic gold medalist running laps around a middle school track team#anyway ummm. yeah talk to me was good though
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calypsolemon · 2 years
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will never forget the time at my first job when I showed my manager some of my oc concepts (they were from an old story of mine where the characters had powers based loosely on physics), and he immediately told me my idea wasn't unique at all and wouldn't go anywhere because marvel or whatever had already done it, and then he showed me a mural he had painted on the office wall as an example of some of his "unique" and "original" comic book inspired art and it was 6x8 ft of the ugliest knockoff rob liefeld bullshit I'd ever seen
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hmm i have like, 500-600 taiwan dollars leftover in a tin from the last time i visited relatives... i wonder what would happen if i just handed it to my little cousins like. "yep. here is gift. have fun."
#i heard them trying to sound out 'eidelweiss' on the piano so i've also been thinking of giving them this little music box i bought#a while back that plays eidelweiss. put it in little box with money and letter that is like. 'hello. cousin cares about you.'#'but cousin is awkward and has bad hearing and speaking skills. anyway here's some money and a music box for you.'#i checked n it's like the equivalent of almost 20 usd so like. that's an appropriate gift for nine-year-olds i think#today at work i was cutting glow sticks in half for our craft and i was not wearing any gloves so i got minor chemical burns <3#like part of the skin on my thumb n pointer finger got bleached so i went around n showed alllll the kids#like. 'hey. check out my chemical burn. this is why we wouldn't let you guys cut open the glow sticks yourselves.'#'because it will do This to you if you touch them too long. this is why we had you wash your hands when you finished.'#n some of them were like 'just wash it off' n i was like. 'it is a chemical burn. it is on my skin.'#at least i Think it was a chemical burn but i mean it was very minor (makes sense bc it's just glow sticks) so the skin's flaked off by now#similar happens when i touch my hair bleach w/o gloves so i'm Pretty Sure it was chemical burns#we had a table of kids who were speaking cn to each other so at some point i pieced together they didn't seem to pay attn. bc low en skills#anyway i broke my own rule abt no phones at work to look up 'chemical burns' in cn for them bc although they know i speak Some cn#(by giving them minor instructions for the glow stick craft) i was like. 'chemical burns... how to say....'#apparently they are mostly from taiwan which is fun i love it when i Don't receive microaggressions for writing in traditional c':#today's my only camp shift for the week tho... one of my coworkers died last week so i told my boss i could pick up his camp shifts#if no one else had but apparently i'd go over hours this week... feelsbad man. it's summer + we're always understaffed#so there's gonna be a point when the front desk worker is gonna be covering the camps for a little bit which is. i feel bad ahaha#the worm speaks
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dhampir-dyke · 1 year
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I'm so awful at orienting new people idk why they keep giving them to me. Like truly I suck at it
#and i cant tell if its ME being a bad preceptor or if my orientee just sucks/isnt ready for hospital healthcare#so much of this shit is just a matter of commen sense to me that it doesnt occur to me that some folks are absolutely clueless#and like!!! if i dont know i go find out! i ask! i research!#like if i dont know how or why or when to do something i just ask. but a lot of people will just NOT DO IT. WHICH IS BAD IN HEALTHCARE.#its hard bc so many of them REFUSE to take initiative. i have to really push them to do anything and instead of just doing it#themselves the next time- i have to push them to do it AGAIN#and its frustrating for me bc these arent customers. theyre some really sick people. if you get a blood sugar of 460 on your patient i feel#like its just basic common sense to tell a nurse. or if your patient has ripped out an IV. etc i could go on forever.#idk man. i got trained for all of 3 days and then got tossed into the deep end to fend for myself- i just figured it out! i used my#shitty critical thinking skills and watched my nurses and figured it out.#and like. so many people think the hospital is so easy. its not.#you have to clean up feces/urine/blood/vomit/mucus. you have to use needles on people. you are EVENTUALLY gonna see a person die and you ar#then gonna have to clean them up and bag#their belongings and put them in a bodybag. you are gonna have victims of violence AND perpetrators of it#and its okay if its hard!!!! it is!!!! but you still have to do it. it might not get easy but if you refuse to do these things then you#probably shouldnt work healthcare#for your sake and the people you are suppose to be taking care of
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timeisacephalopod · 1 year
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On one hand my one sister is Big Stupid and pregnant again, which I wouldn't care as much about if this wasn't the fourth kid with the fourth shitty fucking father who will do nothing but cause even MORE pain and suffering to my sister's life, and on the other hand my other sister keeps sending me apartment ads which is very sweet because she ALSO just had a baby (in August and also her situation is stable, I'm very proud she managed to pull off what she did considering where she's come from. Her boys, especially Older Nephew were SO excited for the baby and I love listening to Older Nephew talk about his sister, it's so heartening to see him so happy and excited. Something tells me my other sisters 3 girls won't be nearly as impressed, especially not Oldest Niece and it's gotten to a point where I feel somewhat compelled to try and mentor this poor kid but I don't know SHIT about kids and don't want to let this poor kid down like everyone else has, she deserves better than that).
Granted my whole life I've preferred Apartment Sister to Making Poor Life Choices sister but also recently Making Dumb Choices has made some serious improvements to her life, very impressive ones too, so it's just disappointing to watch her backslide especially into the same bullshit she's been doing since she was 18 and is now 32. But at least I'm not the only one apartment hunting 😂😂 her efforts are super appreciated given that she just moved herself as well, plus having a fresh baby (very cute baby too). Now with any luck my OTHER sibling will get her shit together hopefully before we're on child number six with father number six with all the same fucking personality flaws and mental health problems not one of these men take even remotely seriously because that's exhausting to me let alone my damn sister.
#winters ramblings#its very sweet that my oldest sister keeps sending apartment ads sometimes im reminded that they care in strange ways#but i like to keep that in the noggin for bad mental health days so if i feel like everyone hates me i can remind myself thats not true#now if only my OTHER older sister would stop making the worlds SHITTIEST choices and grow up thatd be great#i cant imagine doing the same shit at 32 as i did at 18 and bringing a CHILD into my stuoid fantasy thats utterly detached#from ANY known reality. she wants what my oldest sister has i guarantee it but oldest sister GOT that way#because she did the WORK to get there. went to therapy figured out how to make better dating choices for her and her kids#and now shes engaged to an AMAZING dude who loves the hell out of her and her kids. my other sister isnt gunna find that#with her present situation and it pisses me the hell off that we need a FOURTH kid to suffer through her fucking bullshit#before she MIGHT learn getting pregnant with bullshit dudes kids isnt gunna turn them into prince charming#prince charming doesnt exist and CHILDREN won't make him appear either. hard work and looking for men that DONT SUCK#is the way to go. getting therapy is the way to go. or at least SOMETHING self improvement that isnt a self improvement cult#because at this point i would not out it past her to decide to improve her life but do so in the most toxic way possible because it seems#she does not have the emotional skills and tools to do better. which is EXHAUSTING to watch. i love her i do#but oh my GOD how MANY times do you have to make the SAME mistake over THIRTEEN YEARS before you learn?!?!!!?!#and to drag FOUR children into your nonsense fantasy where It Works Out This Time. it WON'T WORK OUT#this man shes back together with for four seconds is a fucking tool who cant even pay his rent and keeo the shit in the apartment#he list that MY SISTER HELPED HIM GET. this man isnt even willing to take care of HIMSELF because he 'doesnt care' W H Y have a kid#with shit like that. itll do nothing but cause that kid pain let alone the three existing kids and i don't know why i seemed to have put#more thought into hakf this shit than she has. im nit kidding when i say ive out INFINITELY more thought into getting a DOG#or another cat than she put into having ANY of her going to be four kids and im baffled that people do that#because CHILDREN arent a joke theyre WHOLE PEOPLE who deserve better than what shes going to give them#like my oldest niece got shipped to her grandparents for being too much to handke like 7 months ago and youre adding a FOURTH??#unbelievably irresponsible and also an amazing way to tell my niece shes replacable and when the going gets tough SHE gets going#no 13 year old should EVER have to deal with this shit. which is why i feel kinda compelled to step in#but i dont have OR want kids i just see this poor girl struggling and appayfeel for her more than anyone else does#like thats not 100% true i KNOW my sister loves her kids but on the flipside shes totally fine to fuck this kid up#in all KINDS of ways i know shes not intending to but fuck. YOU chose this kid how DARE you ship her out when she gets too much#AND THEN CHOOSE TO HAVE ANOTHER ONE LIKE THAT WONT BE DETRIMENTAL TO LITERALLY EVERYONE
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Like many things in life, nepotism is fun to joke about until you experience it. Anyways, I Mcfffffffffreaking hate this :)
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toytulini · 2 months
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jalapeño eggggggggggg
#toy txt post#its Jalapeño Egg time again!!!!!!!#and afternoon coffee#would love to get to a point. in my mental health. spoon distribution. executive function and time management that i could#hold a job and still have jalapeño egg and coffee everyday. maybe have a couple chickens or smth#ive gotten it to be fairly medium spoons on. a good day. or like high spoons medium high reward#the spoon to payoff ratio seems achievable to Balance#compliments the coffee well#if youre curious its Very Basic egg bc i am a Simple Man i and i dont like fancy shit with lots of ingredience generally.#not like on principle just like. statistically speaking.#pan with butter. 2-3 eggs bc that seems like a Normal and Reasonable Amount to allow myself to eat while leaving enough eggs for Future Me#as well. the butter i use is salted. if that matters. u can prolly get away with like olive oil or dairy substitute or somethin idk.#i can tolerate lactose and i like it with the butter. be generous w the butter. stir the eggs up in a little mug or smth like scrample em.#break the yolks and mix em in. cook eggs to your desired egg cookedness. put on plate#put sliced jalapeño pickles on top to desired amount#voila#jalapeño egg. you can alter this as you want. go crazy mix in all sorts of shit put the jalapeños in while youre cooking it cheese whatever#idc. i dont like all that stuff in mine and i prefer it w the jalapeños added after its done cooking personally. pairs well with#black coffee. good black cofffee. like pickle n coffee but elevated. think it takes me like maybe 30 min to do both egg and coffee and#clean up/set aside to clean up later. BUT thats also including the fact that im making coffee in a fancy lil stupid pour over and gotta#babysit it to make sure it hits all those grounds evenly. and watch the bubbles. could deffo do it faster if u have a faster way to make/#have the coffee haha#learning to cook food at all has been learning that i was right as a child when i realized i dont like fancy/complicated ass foods#again not necessarily on principle just like. everytime i see some recipe or gourmet shit or fucking food network im like#wow thats uh. Pretty. that sure looks like it takes a Lot Of Skill And Work! good job!#personally i wouldve stopped like about 5 ingredients and 400 steps ago and not just cos im lazy as shit. that part is bonus#anyway ☆this is not a moral judgement of fancy ass foods. i simply tend not to like them and my Annoyed Tone is purely from#going to some silly little event and they never got basic ass boring fucking plain god damn brownies anymore. everyones gotta get fancy and#Do Shit to em and leave me No Options. smh. its Fine Youre Fine To Like The Fancy Desserts and Many Ingredient Dishes#its Fine! youre Fine! to eat and like fancy desserts and shit. i am simply a Picky Bitch Eater Grumbling In The Corner. let me liiiive
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darkandstormydolls · 5 months
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PSA to all historical fiction/fantasy writers:
A SEAMSTRESS, in a historical sense, is someone whose job is sewing. Just sewing. The main skill involved here is going to be putting the needle into an out of the fabric. They’re usually considered unskilled workers, because everyone can sew, right? (Note: yes, just about everyone could sew historically. And I mean everyone.) They’re usually going to be making either clothes that aren’t fitted (like shirts or shifts or petticoats) or things more along the lines of linens (bedsheets, handkerchiefs, napkins, ect.). Now, a decent number of people would make these things at home, especially in more rural areas, since they don’t take a ton of practice, but they’re also often available ready-made so it’s not an uncommon job. Nowadays it just means someone whose job is to sew things in general, but this was not the case historically. Calling a dressmaker a seamstress would be like asking a portrait painter to paint your house
A DRESSMAKER (or mantua maker before the early 1800s) makes clothing though the skill of draping (which is when you don’t use as many patterns and more drape the fabric over the person’s body to fit it and pin from there (although they did start using more patterns in the early 19th century). They’re usually going to work exclusively for women, since menswear is rarely made through this method (could be different in a fantasy world though). Sometimes you also see them called “gown makers”, especially if they were men (like tailors advertising that that could do both. Mantua-maker was a very feminized term, like seamstress. You wouldn’t really call a man that historically). This is a pretty new trade; it only really sprung up in the later 1600s, when the mantua dress came into fashion (hence the name).
TAILORS make clothing by using the method of patterning: they take measurements and use those measurements to draw out a 2D pattern that is then sewed up into the 3D item of clothing (unlike the dressmakers, who drape the item as a 3D piece of clothing originally). They usually did menswear, but also plenty of pieces of womenswear, especially things made similarly to menswear: riding habits, overcoats, the like. Before the dressmaking trade split off (for very interesting reason I suggest looking into. Basically new fashion required new methods that tailors thought were beneath them), tailors made everyone’s clothes. And also it was not uncommon for them to alter clothes (dressmakers did this too). Staymakers are a sort of subsect of tailors that made corsets or stays (which are made with tailoring methods but most of the time in urban areas a staymaker could find enough work so just do stays, although most tailors could and would make them).
Tailors and dressmakers are both skilled workers. Those aren’t skills that most people could do at home. Fitted things like dresses and jackets and things would probably be made professionally and for the wearer even by the working class (with some exceptions of course). Making all clothes at home didn’t really become a thing until the mid Victorian era.
And then of course there are other trades that involve the skill of sewing, such as millinery (not just hats, historically they did all kinds of women’s accessories), trimming for hatmaking (putting on the hat and and binding and things), glovemaking (self explanatory) and such.
TLDR: seamstress, dressmaker, and tailor are three very different jobs with different skills and levels of prestige. Don’t use them interchangeably and for the love of all that is holy please don’t call someone a seamstress when they’re a dressmaker
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sol-flo · 9 months
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i'm going to destroy this damn phone
- the boss avoider
#long vent / rant on tags open at your own risk#straight up turned off my phone and put teams on do not disturb because i was TRYING TO WORK and kept getting interrupted by his whining#(he particularly said he needed me to work [read: be at the office. december 22.] while hindering my ability to do so !!!)#like the job is lame and boring and all but as much as i bitch about it i overall don't mind it that much#i was on a nice roll. think i finished this first website draft in record time (it's not very complicated but still. just 2 days)#and i stg i never have any problems with my project heads yknow. it's not a matter of being bad at receiving orders or w/e#and regardless of what he might say the communication problems are not on my end. bc again it doesn't happen w anyone else#i brought it up with him and he said 'well communication is a two way street you have to do it too' but tell me how can i talk to this man#i misunderstand a message he sends bc he never ever details what he wants even after i specifically asked him to yknow#tell me the whole information when he asks something of me#and then i respond based on the message i received and he goes 'well show me where i said that' FUCK YOU#he's always so passive aggressive about it all too#like if you say 'we have to look at the marketing materials to make new social media posts' and then. not tell me anything else#how am i supposed to know that there's a specific folder and you want me to take the text previously written and put it on new images#like that's a whole other sentence my guy you cannot be mad that i thought you wanted me to scour your social media and#make new posts whole cloth. fuck right off i have to put in my notice bc it's impossible to work under a man like this#like forgive me for the expression but he absolutely lacks leadership skills#if you're not good with people you should just delegate those parts to people who are and focus on reading about the metav3rse#GOD. i'll soon be sent to the seaside for my health (new years trip w my friends) but. i won't be on break at all so :grimace:#because there's that too. haven't had a single break except for holidays but like. only the DAY of the holiday#holiday on a thursday and you're expecting a nice four day weekend? well too bad get fucked you're working that friday#like jesus you're not providing anything so important you need to work your employees every legally allowed day of the year#just stop for the holidays! people won't die because someone's website has been delayed for two weeks!#to think i even considered learning frontend to branch my career options. i'm not stepping foot in a tech company again in my life#i mean there's still self important bosses everywhere. my friend's at a marketing agency and god knows the owner is crazy but#the grindset is gonna kill you and i won't let it kill me too.
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whateveriwant · 10 months
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I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141
Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 
-🍱 (if it’s not taken)
I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)
Soap
Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go
So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus
Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part
Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you
But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light
Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby
You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all
You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)
So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to
He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal
When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you
Ghost
I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant
It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state
However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree
He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be
He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works
But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first
He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue
He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his
But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it
Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)
Gaz
Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position
But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed
But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant
That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room
You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down
His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him
It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end
Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.
Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more
Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better
Price
Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want
What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue
That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can
Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone
Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)
But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror
He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow
Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror
There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch
With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)
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gremlingottoosilly · 11 months
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
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aidenwaites · 1 year
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People truly don't get just how labor-intensive of a field filmmaking is, whether it's writing/pre-production or on-set actors and crew or post-production
#listen man i know ive barely scratched the surface of even sports broadcasting#but my schedule is Not Unlike the kind of schedules film crews face with MUCH more labor intensive jobs#except where my schedule is unpredictable and subject to change on short notice and my shifts#Do Not Come with proper breaks#at least i *usually* only work a max of 12 hours#film crews easily see 14-16 hour days and the studios refuse to accept#paying more fines to the unions for not supplying the minimum amount of hours needed between shifts (this was something they rejected in#the wga negotiations)#and they HAVE to have those fines put on them because there is like. a real legitimate problem of lack of sleep leading to#injuries (and sometimes fatal ones) both on and off film sets. do you know its not unusual for people on sets to be reminded not to drive#if they feel like theyre going to pass out. a couple of years ago when iatse was in negotiations people were sharing INSANE stories#along those lines#and those days arent worth it!! at all!! we HAVE to take more time to make movies. we have to stand behind the unions. come on man#anyway brought to you by i wasnt gonna reblog that giant post where someone sent a stupid ask to neil gaiman but i am mad about it#and i know that post was specifically aboht writing but MAN people really forget the number of crew who work on movies#and how exhausting those jobs are and how much technical skill and varied understanding of skills that arent even your own#that you have to have to work in entertainment !#anyway
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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