Wake up babe, new fanart for chapter 9 of You're Perfect (And Everything in Between) just dropped!
After the beautiful animation they made for the chapter 4 club dancing scene, I commissioned @anewp0tat0 once more to bring this moment of chapter 9 to life, with Stolas sleeping on the couch guarded by Tuna Sandwich while Blitz works quietly on the dishes.
It turned out so beautiful and soft 🥺😭 thank you so much, Pota, for all the care and love you put into this piece! ❤️
Some close-ups/a little snippet from chapter 9 under the cut:
Blitz's hand/arm scars, the snow on the window and the full moon outside:
Stolas' exhausted features and Tuna Sandwich protecting him while he sleeps:
—
There were an additional two blankets draped over Stolas by the time Blitz managed to pry himself away from his sleeping form.
Stolas didn’t look cold anymore, but that observation couldn’t seem to scratch the itch at the back of Blitz’s mind. Stolas looked companionless, unprotected, and Blitz threw a look at the walls, dismayed by the lack of horse plushies that could watch over Stolas while he slept.
After much quarreling with himself, Blitz had an idea. Silently, he removed Tuna Sandwich from his car keys and placed the small pink pony plush carefully next to Stolas’ face. Then he took a step back to assess his work.
It wasn’t much, but it’d have to do.
Even though he hadn’t looked at his phone in hours, his only unread message was from Millie, letting him know they were home and thanking him again for dinner. He sent back a dancing woman emoji and texted Loona he was staying the night at Stolas’. If she was still on her phone, she wasn’t impressed enough by this information to dignify it with a reply.
With one last lingering look at the shadowed outline of Stolas’ softened face, Blitz rolled the tension off his shoulders, pushed back his sleeves, and got to work.
There was a pattern to Stolas’ dirty dishes, he soon found: pots and pans and plates buried at the bottom of the sink and pushed to the back of the counter to make room for bowls, mugs, and glasses, each holding an unrinsed spoon inside. Someone more well-read that Blitz would’ve been able to carbon-date the stages of Stolas’ mental decline, maybe even decipher how many days he’d survived on milk and cereal alone. But that person wasn’t Blitz, who directed his efforts towards emptying the food scraps into a discarded takeout bag and covering each plate with water before stacking them up to soak.
Dishes were loud by nature, but Blitz had been nurtured from an early age to shape them into a stealthy task. Even so, he stilled every couple of minutes to make out the soft, almost hoot-like releases of breath coming from the couch facing away from him.
—
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Hi hello hi! As many of you know, You're Perfect (And Everything in Between), also known as my human Stolitz tattoo shop AU, is a fic I hold very close to my heart. I've been working on it since around summer of 2024, and it's kept me company through highs and lows all this while. So much of myself and my own journey with queerness has been poured into these silly little blorbos, with so much more story still to come!
And ever since I wrote Blitz and Stolas dancing along to Dancing Queen in chapter 4, I knew I wanted to see that moment come to life in the form of fanart. I wanted to see the sheer queer joy of Stolas singing, and dancing, and shining in Blitz's arms under a thousand rainbow lights.
Soooo I decided to commission @anewp0tat0 for an animatic, who, boy oh boy, delivered. The result is exactly what I had in mind and so much more. I really have no words to describe how much I love it. It's even timed with the song! It includes so many details from the fic! And it's like you can see Stolas through Blitz's eyes, and see just how perfect, and beautiful, and otherworldly he is. Truly, how could Blitz not fall in love with this man?
Just... *shoves the blorbo in everyone's faces* Just look at him. Looooook at himmm!!!!!
Thank you so much again to @anewp0tat0 for making this scene come to life in such a perfect way. I will cherish this animatic forever and always 🥹😭❤️
Screenshots of my favourite moments below the cut!
HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND CHEWABLE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍
Welcome, I say welcome, to a new installment of @theradiodaemon and I's:
You pick Blitz's dialogue option, we draw and write. Will Blitz be able to romance the cute, tall bird behind the Hellbucks counter?
Make sure to read part 1 first, if you haven't already!
Part 1 | part 2
✨☕
“I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. Would you refresh my memory so I can write it on the cup?”
Blitz took in the tiny glasses perched atop a fine beak, and the big, curious, friendly eyes that regarded him from behind them. His gaze lowered to the mess of feathers poking out of the guy’s shirt—so easily grabbable, he mentally noted—and then to the cup held expectantly in a small, slender black hand.
“Hmmm.” He smirked. “Name’s Blitz, but, y’know, I actually think the cup’s cute enough to deserve its own name.”
“O-Oh?”
As Blitz squinted at the thing, taking it in from different angles, the climbable bird gave him a puzzled look.
Still, there was amusement in that posh little voice of his as he said, “I did not realize object-naming was such a serious matter.”
“Oh, yeah, super fucking serious. Life-or-death, really,” Blitz mumbled, absent-minded. Then, snapping his fingers— “Okay, okay, alright—I got it. He’s an Emergency Condom,” he declared, and smiled triumphantly up at the owl.
Four wide eyes blinked slowly down at him. The corner of that thin mouth twitched tentatively up. “Emergency… Condom?”
The guy looked around, as if checking that the other patrons weren’t paying them any mind. There was a pretty flush blossoming on his cheeks.
“Yeah! I mean, just look at it. It’s got Emergency Condom written all over it,” Blitz said with a cheeky grin, and even though the bird covered his growing blush with a hand, Blitz caught a glimpse of a smile twitching underneath. “It just fits!”
“Mhhm.” The owl tittered, fighting hard to compose himself. His eyes were still crinkled with amusement when he said, “Does it, now?”
“Yessir,” Blitz said proudly, and his smirk was mirrored back at him as those owlish eyes trailed down to examine the object in question, as though the guy was seriously assessing Blitz’s cup-naming skills.
Blitz watched as long, elegant fingers trailed down the length of the cup with a new sort of intention. He tracked the light press of the heel of that palm against the curved side of the cup, and felt his blood rush south when the bird very slowly curled his slender fingers around it and gave it a steady stroke.
“That’s… quite remarkable, I must say.” The guy lowered his voice into a private tone. “After all, we do pride ourselves on the size of our cups, here at Hellbucks.”
Those big eyes met his again, and, fuck, it was probably the most unwise decision his dick had made in a while, but Blitz needed to get in this owl’s pants like right fucking now.
Refusing to let his horny game be one-upped, he toned up the cheekiness a notch, saying, “Oh, do you, now?”
The bird seemed to like that, if the low chirp he released was any indication. “Indeed. Their depth and… girth… are not something you can find at just any coffee shop.”
Was it just Blitz’s imagination, or were the feathers around his neck… puffing up? Blitz couldn’t tell, but the thought had him contemplating just how warm the skin underneath must be.
“Well,” Blitz started with a smirk, and leaned forward on the counter, tail quivering when the bird inched closer to him as well, “I can tell ya I don’t disappoint, birdie.”
Desire, suddenly raw, flared up on those big red eyes, and a fine beak parted slightly with a measured breath.
Just when Blitz was about to grab a handful of those unruly chest feathers, though, someone behind him pointedly cleared their throat.
A surprised hoot came from above him as the owl quickly straightened and apologized to the line of people queuing behind Blitz. A good call on his part, probably, considering Blitz’s fingers were already grazing his flintlock handle, itching to get rid of the problem in a much less diplomatic way.
“Um,” the bird mumbled, his fluffy cheeks ablaze as he waved at an empty table in the corner. “Y-You can sit down, if you want. I’ll bring you your order shortly.”
“Okie dokie.” And Blitz winked at him, allowing himself a moment to bask in the hooted giggle the bird hid behind his hand before walking up to the table.
It was only after he sat down that he realized he’d never gotten the bird’s damn name. He should probably remember it, what with the guy being demon royalty, but all he had was an echo of a memory that refused to morph into actual syllables he could pronounce.
Luckily, it didn’t take too long for the guy to walk up to his desk.
Before he could ask, though, he was immeditately distracted by the frankly beautiful—if barely readable—calligraphy with which the words Emergency Condom had been written on the cup, followed by a single, outlined heart.
“Hey. I—I’m terribly sorry about that,” the owl said, infinitely tall next to the tiny desk. “I should’ve realized there was a queue.”
Blitz roved his gaze up, from those rogue thick chest feathers to the hand nervously pushing away a strand of hair, and settled on the flickering eyes that watched him from behind small framed glasses.
“Hey, all good,” he said, only half-distracted by the mental image of getting those pretty glasses all fogged up. “Don’t sweat it, uh…”
“Stolas,” the bird offered, catching on. “You said you were… Blitz, right? Didn’t your name have an O at the—?”
“Yeah, it’s silent now,” Blitz quickly cut in, absolutely not wanting the conversation to go there right now. “It’s Blitz.”
“I see.” The bird took this in, and his expression, though still profoundly blushed, settled on a friendly, dreamy smile. “Well, Blitz. I… I hope you enjoy your drink.”
That was usually the line baristas gave before retreating, but Stolas lingered, watching Blitz with eyes that were hooded—expectant.
“Uh...”
What will Blitz's reply be?
Yeah, you too! Fuck, I mean... [awkward silence]
You know... Coffee isn't the only thing I swallow.
So... When do you get off?
Do you do take-out? There's a tall, fluffy drink I'd like to order.
Great news: @theradiodaemon and I's coffee shop AU dating sim has a title now—and is on AO3, just in time for part 3!
As always, you pick Blitz's dialogue option, we draw and write. Will Blitz be able to romance the cute, tall bird behind the Hellbucks counter?
Part 1 | part 2 | part 3
✨☕
“Uh...”
“Hey, quick question,” Blitz blurted out, and swore Stolas’ glazed eyes followed every movement of his mouth. The bird gave an inquisitive, distracted hum, and Blitz smirked. “Do you do take-out?”
Stolas blinked. And again, his gaze finally finding Blitz’s as his dreamy smile faded. “Um. Yes, we—yes.” He strsightened a little. “Would you… I mean, is there anything you’d like to… um.” Stolas’ squawky speech cut with a gulp when Blitz dragged his hand across the table and grazed his fingertipss to surprisingly soft, black knuckles.
“Yeah. You see,” Blitz started, lacing their fingers loosely, delighting in the twitch Stolas’ hand gave under his, “I’ve heard you guys serve this special, off-menu drink I’d like to order.”
“O-Oh?”
“Mhm.” Blitz licked his lips. “I’ve heard it’s the tallest one you have. Fluffiest one, too.” As he spoke, he ogled the bird slowly, pointedly, going from his long, quaky legs to the thin waist highlighted by a tightly-tied apron, then to the messy chest fluff and puffed neck feathers. As his eyes settled on Stolas’ bewildered, flushed expression, Blitz allowed his tail to swish and lowered his voice into a thick, husky sound. “It’s definitely the hottest drink ‘round these parts, which is why I’d like to take my time savoring it.”
“I-I—” It seemed impossible, but Stolas’ flush deepened. The bird slipped his warm hand from under Blitz’s to tug at the neck of his shirt, causing another button to come loose and making more of those enticing chest feathers spill out. “I think—we can definitely arrange that, yes.”
Blitz was sure he didn’t imagine the way Stolas’ knees pressed closely together, like something was going on between his thighs that required his thighs to clench.
The lack of a bulge had Blitz wondering just what awaited under that tight apron. Whatever it was, as long as he could put his mouth on it, he was sure he could make it work.
“I’ll just have to, um, make sure the drink is ready to go.” Stolas tripped adorably over the words, but that didn’t deter him from playing along. “It should be ready in around… half an hour?” he said, glancing at the fancy clock on the wall. “Would that work for you?”
Blitz grinned. “Sounds perfect, birdie,” he purred, and had to stop himself from grazing that long leg with the tip of his tail as Stolas straightened to his full height.
He wanted to keep flirting, just to see what other sounds the owl would make. But when he caught Stolas eyeing the counter and the two customers already waiting in line, he took pity on the guy. Demon royalty or not, he seemed keen on being a decent Hellbucks employee.
So Blitz gave him a final smirk, said, “See ya then, handsome,” and grabbed his cup to take a sip as he watched Stolas begrudgingly step away.
As soon as Stolas’ back was to him, he frowned down at his cup. What the fuck had he ordered? He eyed the poster on the wall, taking a painstaking few moments to read the text under the giant cup, and felt his blood drain. It was an ad for their newest XXL cup size, not for a specific drink.
As it turned out, they did pride themselves on the size of their cups here at Hellbucks, and, like the clown he was, Blitz had ordered absolutely nothing.
Oh, well. Whatever beverage Stolas had served him had coffee in it, at least. And pumpkin spice. And… something that tasted suspiciously like mint.
Ugh. Whatever. It was tolerable enough for Blitz to power through.
*
The minutes ticked by painfully slowly. Blitz checked his phone, stared out the window; snuck a glance at Stolas to watch him work, wanting to get another good look at those slender hands—those long fingers that waved around as he talked to customers like each movement was meant to conjure magic.
Just as Blitz trailed his gaze up to watch Stolas’ mouth move as he spoke, the bird glanced his way and caught him staring.
Stolas’ eyes widened, and he flushed a pretty pink. He quickly turned his attention back to the customers, but stole another glance at Blitz, and he visibly fumbled his words when their gazes met again.
Naturally, this meant Blitz had no choice but to let his gaze trail in Stolas’ direction every couple of minutes. Just to fluster him a li’l; watch his feathers quiver and puff.
Half the time, Stolas was already looking at him. Still, he was always the one to blush, smiling to himself and pushing back the feathers at his temples with long, clumsy fingers.
Blitz’s smirk, at first a teasing attempt to see just how deep Stolas’ flush could get, turned slowly genuine as he bit back his chuckles and shook his head in fond dismay.
When the queue died down again, Stolas walked around the cafe to pick up the trash and clean the empty tables.
On his way past Blitz’s corner, the owl beelined in his direction—casual, non-committal, trying to act like he wasn’t trying to walk past Blitz’s side.
So Blitz took a sip of his drink, not reacting as the bird approached. Then, in the split second before Stolas rushed past, he angled up the tip of his tail to stroke the smooth heel of Stolas’ talon.
The feeling of fanning tail feathers brushing his sensitive spade traveled through him like lightning.
Stolas didn’t turn back to look at him—didn’t falter in his steps—but Blitz didn’t miss the way his feathers quivered, and swore he could hear a sharp intake of breath over the loud ambience of the cafe.
Somewhere between thrilled and unbearably horny, Blitz watched the owl return to the counter and start making another drink.
Stolas didn’t look at him again—not at first. He focused on the task at hand, and so did Blitz, so mesmerized by the movements of Stolas’ hands that it took him a whole five seconds to register the purposeful way in which Stolas was stroking the cup.
When Stolas did look his way, an amused smirk tugged at his beaky mouth.
Blitz must’ve looked like a complete idiot. He was pretty sure his fly was about to burst, and could feel a string of drool threatening to escape the confines of his open mouth.
Stolas looked down again, then back up at him, all the while handling that cup like he was trying to edge it to Heaven and back.
Blitz had to take a big gulp of coffee just to hide his flush. Then, thinking better of it, he let the drink splash his lips, and—checking that Stolas was still watching—lowered the cup to lick them slowly clean of foam, showing off just a fraction of his tongue’s true skillet.
Stolas’ hooded eyes traveled from his mouth to the clock on the wall—then widened. He handed out the last of the drinks and disappeared behind the staff door, which swung open again as an imp walked out to take his place.
It couldn’t have been more than three minutes before Stolas walked back out—and yet he was almost unrecognizable.
Gone were the green little apron and the baggy beige shirt underneath. In their place were a pretty, elegant grey blouse, half-unbuttoned to let the chest fluff overflow, and skimpy, high-waisted maroon shorts that seemed designed specifically to trigger Blitz’s instincts to gnaw at his thighs.
“Shall we?” Stolas smiled, extending an awkward hand. It took all of Blitz’s brainpower to stand up instead of gawking at this masterpiece of a bird.
Outside, Stolas paused, expectant, and fiddled with the long feathers at his chest as he looked down at Blitz. “So,” he smiled, a blush creeping up his cheeks, “what did you have in mind?”
What will Blitz's reply be?
"Imma be honest, I hadn't thought this far ahead."
"We could go to Pound Town... no, really, I heard they have great restaurants."
"How'd you like to visit the human world?"
"I'm not fussy. Anywhere I can get a good view of those feathers works for me."
Stolitz | 1.5k | Explicit | Post-Sinsmas, fluff, smut, couch sex, domestic fluff, cuddles, hand jobs, tail sex | Read down below or on AO3
Blitz’s kiss was wet and warm as he clung to the feathers at the back of Stolas’ head.
Stolas sighed into it, suckling tenderly on Blitz’s tongue and drawing a quiet moan from the man he loved. He stroked a thick horn to angle Blitz’s head back and deepen the kiss, and felt a familiar hardness dig into his stomach when Blitz pushed needily up against him.
A thrill ruffled his feathers, and Stolas smiled into the kiss. He pressed his hardened abdomen down, matching the slight bucking of Blitz’s hips, and hummed in approval when Blitz’s cock twitched hotly against his skin.
Their tongues didn’t unwind as Blitz’s pants turned gradually to muffled moans.
A claw dug into Stolas’ back, dragging down his skin and the downy feathers there. Spurred on, Stolas snuck a hand between their bodies and tugged Blitz’s pajama bottoms down. He traced Blitz’s heavy length with his fingers, drawing a higher, needy whine from the imp.
Blitz pushed up into Stolas’ weight, arching his back into the unhurried touch. Shaky fingers clawed at Stolas’ sides, raising skin; Stolas rewarded him with a pleased hoot that Blitz swallowed and gasped around.
“Mh—mhh…” Blitz tried to vocalize, no doubt wanting to ask for more, but Stolas slotted their mouths together and kept a steady, unhurried pace.
There was no rush, now, after all. No bright full moon judging silently from the celestial sphere; no transaction, no deal. Just them—quiet, and wanton, and here. Warm lips and and feathers and skin.
He stroked Blitz’s quivering tip and felt it leak against his fingers. Distracted as he was by the familiar texture of Blitz’s arousal, he let his drool trickle down into Blitz’s mouth, and Blitz kissed up into it, using his tongue to taste and collect Stolas’ mess. His muscled legs wrapped around Stolas’ waist, then, and he clenched his thighs to drive his cock up into the hollow nest underneath Stolas’ breastbone.
It was Stolas’ turn to moan hotly into Blitz’s mouth, and not just from the way Blitz was fucking himself against the pit of his stomach. Blitz’s tail spade had found its way between his thighs, and teased them playfully open, stroking the inside just above Stolas’ knees where Blitz knew he was particularly sensitive.
Stolas whimpered, shivering with pleasure. Lords, he’d missed this so much.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d yearned for this—for a touch between them that felt real, that wasn’t rooted in fantasy, in play-pretend, in a mountain of unspoken doubt.
Thoughts of their troubling past had barely begun to form when Blitz dragged him back to the present with hands that dug into his flesh at his back and sides. Stolas sighed, feeling the tip of that spade trailing up his inner thighs, and sobbed lowly into the kiss when it flicked against his quivering heat.
With devastating ease, he surrended to his lover fully, spreading his legs open and moaning in tandem with Blitz as that tail spade found his cloaca and rubbed slowly against its ridged edge.
Just as he felt wetness leak onto the flat of Blitz’s spade, another dribble of pre-cum coated his own fingers and the downy feathers under his chest.
He considered sitting up to get Blitz’s cock inside him, but he rather wanted to keep drinking in Blitz’s moans. So, instead, Stolas shifted his weight without parting from their kiss and guided more of it to his knees so he could lift his hips. Then, rubbing himself back against that teasing tail, he slotted his hand properly between their bodies and wrapped his fist around the familiar, quivering weight of Blitz’s cock.
Blitz’s moan was beautifully debauched, and Stolas hummed around it as he pumped his fist experimentally, pausing after an upstroke to feel the way his stomach feathers dampened with Blitz’s dribbling slick.
He rubbed Blitz’s tip with his palm to coax more of that wetness out, and Blitz’s mouth slackened against his as he pumped his hips up and sought more of Stolas’ touch.
When Stolas stroked his full length again, Blitz’s legs clenched around his waist, the imp clinging to him until his back was barely touching the couch.
There was no warning as Blitz’s tail wriggled and breached the sensitive rim of Stolas’ hole.
Stolas parted from the kiss, moaned, and Blitz chuckled against his lips.
“You’re so wet for me, birdie.” Blitz’s voice was a rumble, hoarse from making out. He grabbed Stolas by the back of the head and guided their mouths together; not to kiss, but to feel Stolas’ hot breaths against his lips as he twitched his tail inside Stolas’ quivering heat.
Dreamily, Stolas smiled, a thumb to the underside of Blitz’s cock. “You’re one to talk, darling.”
Blitz smiled back, cheeky, before wriggling deeper inside him and kissing around Stolas’ breathy moan.
Stolas already knew he wasn’t going to last. Not with how new and thrilling this felt; not with how long he’d craved this kind of touch from Blitz.
It was okay, though. Blitz would hold him when he came undone, he knew that now. Just as he knew their time together wouldn’t be over once this moment was; that Blitz would still be by his side afterwards, filling the crushing gaps between each full moon with warmth and touch and love.
So Stolas moaned, and fucked himself on Blitz's muscular tail spade, and didn’t try to stop his pleasure from mounting—trickling—spilling as they got lost in another breathless kiss. He didn’t hold back from stroking Blitz to completion, either, pushing his chest down and cradling his cock in the gap under his ribcage as Blitz quivered and came.
They kissed for long minutes, afterwards: Stolas’ fingers curled loosely around Blitz’s twitching, slowly-softening dick, and Blitz’s tail tip nestled in the wet, pulsing ridges of Stolas’ hole.
Then came the slide of a warm tongue against the hardness of his beak; the smooth, hollow slide of a talon against a long keratine horn.
Each small touch felt accentuated, traveling down his limbs and spine with each shock of after-pleasure that made him drowsy and slow.
Outside the spacious windows of Blitz’s home, a red twilight toned down into a purplish dusk. Inside, comfort flowed back into pleasure as Blitz’s cock filled against his abdomen again and the wetness between Stolas’ legs twitched with interest anew.
Stolas didn’t stroke Blitz this time, instead pressing his hand against Blitz’s lower back and spurring him to drive up into his body.
Similarly, Blitz didn’t push inside him again, and opted for rubbing the outside of Stolas’ sensitive rim until he was a whining mess. The edges of his spade caught against the ridges of Stolas’ cloaca, and, hyper-sensitive as he was, Stolas cried out and came in seconds, too lost in pleasure to feel self-conscious about how ridiculously easy it was for Blitz to get him off.
Blitz made them dinner, afterwards, though not until their rumbling stomachs forced them to get up. Stolas wasn’t allowed near the stove even though his calculations proved he’d only been responsible for roughly forty-percent of the kitchen accidents over the last few months; but he set the table for two, lowering the lights and cutting a flower from his small balcony garden to place in a horseshoe mug in lieu of a proper vase.
He hummed as he worked, and caught a glimpse of a smile adorning Blitz’s face as he finished up with the food. Privately, Stolas smiled back, a sappy, delighted display that he toned down somewhat when Blitz brought their plates to the table and pulled back Stolas’ chair for him to sit.
When they brushed their teeth after dinner, Blitz perched himself on the edge of the sink and nuzzled his forehead against the mess of feathers that adorned Stolas’ chest. He held Stolas’ hand as they made back to the couch, and used that irresistible smile of his to convince Stolas to watch a movie he really liked that had a stallion for a protagonist.
Stolas agreed to it, well aware he’d spend most of the movie silently admiring the feeling of Blitz’s hand around his own.
Quite unexpectedly, though, the movie plot caught his attention. So much so that, when a low purr reached him from below, Stolas was surprised to find Blitz fast asleep against his side, with his scarred cheek smooshed against the short feathers of his upper arm.
Smiling, Stolas tugged at the blanket and draped it around them both.
Eventually, the credits rolled. Blitz didn’t stir, and it took Stolas a minute to get a hold of his drooping eyelids.
Carefully, Stolas lowered himself onto his back, taking care not to wake Blitz as he repositioned the imp to be curled up securely against his chest, legs tucked in the gap between Stolas’ waist and the backrest.
A passing car in the street below painted a stroke of yellow and white on the living room wall. It was the closest thing to a shooting star Stolas had witnessed in many months, and even though he knew it was silly, he searched his mind for a groggy wish.
Him, his scattered thoughts supplied, us. This.
Satisfied, Stolas closed his eyes and allowed his low-pitched hoots to match the rumbling beat of Blitz’s deep-seated purr.
No one asked, and yet @theradiodaemon and I delivered. Friends and enemies, feast yourselves upon our latest invention: the one, the only...
You pick Blitz's dialogue option, we draw and write. Will Blitz be able to romance the cute, tall bird behind the Hellbucks counter? Help us find out!
Part 1 | part 2
✨☕
Blitz had heard the rumors, of course. He doubted there was a single demon in hell who hadn’t.
Still, somehow, he didn’t actually believe there was a blue-blooded bird-guy playing barista at the Hellbucks just outside Imp City until he kicked open the doors and marched in to see for himself.
And, oh, fuck, was the sight worth coming to this overpriced, piss-serving dump…
The place was designed to feel less shitty than it actually was, with its lo-fi music and too-bright lights. Blitz had no clue why they bothered. This was Hell, after all—no one gave a flying fuck about stupid fancy appearances. Well, except maybe for the rich assholes at the top of the food chain, such as the one standing behind the bar and reading through some notes on a tiny paper pad.
But when Blitz roved his eyes up and down the long, lean, almost-gangly-but-in-a-definitely-fuckable-way frame of the guy, the cafe’s bright lights proved suddenly useful in the way they made those blue-grey feathers shimmer and shine.
Damn. The guy looked softer than any of the stuffed toys in Blitz’s hefty horse collection, and that was saying something.
The big bird must’ve sensed the presence of a customer, because he blinked up from the pad and settled his two pairs of bright red eyes on Blitz.
It was at that exact moment that Blitz realized he hadn’t stormed in with a plan, really, beyond sating his boredom-borne curiosity and maybe spending some bucks on an expensive coffee just so he could make a fuss about how bad it was.
Now, though, even that basic course of action seemed to fly out the window as an echo of a memory rattled in his buzzing mind.
Since when do pirates throw things out windows?
Four red eyes. Soft grey feathers. A white, heart-shaped face plate. Black, slender hands that held up close to a fluffy chest.
Holy shit. It couldn’t fucking be.
No fucking way.
Blinking fast, Blitz forced himself to march up to the counter and face the guy.
The incredibly tall, sexy Goetia blinked his giant eyes down at him. There was probably some bullshit greeting that corporate required him to say to customers, but no words came out even as that thin, beaky mouth parted, and by the time the guy managed to muster a disjointed syllable or two, Blitz was already opening his own giant fucking food hole and blurting out—
“Holy shit, do I fucking know you?”
The man’s mouth opened, then closed. When he tried to reply, what came out was a quick, butchered, “I—I do believe I can take your order!”
Immediately, those four owlish eyes widened with horrified embarrassment, blinking out of sync down at Blitz.
“I-I’m terribly sorry.” A deep blush crept up the bird’s cushy cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair—if it could even be called hair with it being made of feathers. “What I meant is—I do believe we know each other, yes. And I can take your order. If you… want one?” he awkwardly finished.
Okay. Okay, so Blitz wasn’t making things up. This really was the prince boy he’d met that one time as a kid.
Except he wasn’t a round, awkward boy anymore. Nor a fucking prince, apparently. At least, he didn’t look like one. There was a light streak on his head, and his pupils were visible behind the thin frame of his glasses in a way Blitz was pretty sure they shouldn’t be.
And also—and perhaps much more importantly—he was hot now. Like, sex-on-legs, I-need-to-climb-him-like-a-tree-and-gnaw-on-him levels of hot. The fact that he was blushing furiously and messing up his words around Blitz definitely didn’t help.
“Um,” the bird mumbled, and Blitz promptly remembered he’d been asked a question and failed to give a reply in favor of fucking gawking.
“Y-Yes,” he blurted out, and then shook his head and quickly composed himself. He leaned an arm on the counter and gave the guy his best casual-yet-irresisrible lopsided smile. “Bring it on, pretty bird. I’ll take the, uh…”
Yeah, so he had no fucking clue what fancy names they gave their drinks at this dump. Glancing sideways, he pointed at the big poster of a fancy-looking coffee that hung on the wall by his side. “That one.”
The smile that grew on the tall bird’s lips was amused and a little sly. Arching an eyebrow, he grabbed a cup and sharpie from the side.
“Marvelous,” he said, and quickly followed up with, “I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. Would you refresh my memory so I can write it on the cup?”
What will Blitz's reply be?
It's Blitz... the O is silent.
You want my name? Ha! Feels nice being asked by someone not from law enforcement
Oh, the cup's name is Emergency Condom, but as for me, you can call me Blitz
