#Dark Chocolate Truffles Gift Box

[cloudcountry]

OH MY GOD. THE MIX UP VALENTINE POST. YOU ATE!!!! could i rq a version with riddle, ace, deuce, octavinelle, and lillia? 🫶🫶

SUMMARY: you get a gift that was meant for the student you like, and the contents spur you to action.

COMMENTS: this is a spin off post of this post!! IM GLAD U LIKED IT ANON i was proud of that one myself ehehe

also the character limit is five so i picked azul from octavinelle

You stare blankly at the box of chocolate in your hands, the gift crammed into your desk haphazardly. At first, you thought it was for you—that’s what anyone would assume, right? Except...the note on top of it is not addressed to you, but rather, the guy you like. It makes you wonder if this is some joke, or if one of his friends wanted you to deliver it for him. You pick at the heart sticker sealing the note shut and peel it open, taking a peak of the contents.

Your eyes wide and your heart lurches in your chest, panic and annoyance roaring like red hot flames as you read what sounds like a genuine confession of love. Someone had their eyes on him? How did you never notice?

Was it weird to get jealous? I mean, he’s not even dating you yet...you don’t even know if he feels the same way. You can’t deny it doesn’t feel good that there’s another student trying to woo him, though. You’ve been so scared up until this point, so nervous about what he might think, but the clock is ticking. You’ve got to tell him before it’s too late.

Riddle sits up even straighter when he sees you approaching him with a heart shaped box and an envelope, his cheeks flushing pink. He clears his throat when you arrive, expression all twisted up as if you’re unhappy about something. Riddle turns to look at you, holding his chin high as he addresses you by name.

“Do you have something to tell me?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“This is a pathetic gift for the Queen of Hearts.” you reply dryly, throwing the gifts on the ground and stomping on them, “Someone thought that would be enough for you, but I won’t stand for it.”

Riddle stares open mouthed at the torn envelope and crushed box of chocolates, but a giant bundle of roses blocks his line of sight.

“This.” you say, a bouquet of roses in one hand and an entire strawberry tart in the other, with the truffles from the box placed in a circle around it in your hands, “Is a far more fitting gift for courting the queen.”

Deuce freezes after he reads the note you gave him with a sour face, cheeks turning pink. He wonders why you look so upset when you just confessed how much you like him—even though the words seem a bit off...

“See, Deuce? I told you you were popular.” you scoff, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

You glare so intensely at the envelope that Deuce feels your anger and jealousy.

“Is this...not from you?” he asks softly, his heart plummeting out of his body. And here he was, getting all delighted and cheesy about it—

“Nah. It’s not.” you say flippantly, “I’m confessing my feelings in a much better way.”

Deuce gasps when you pull out a bouquet of dark blue roses, kneeling at his feet as you take his hand. He swears you see hearts in his eyes as he stares at the flowers and your face, which look up at him with determination he knows all too well.

“Deuce Spade, I want you to be mine.” you declare, and his legs turn to jelly as he babbles out an enthusiastic yes.

“I can’t believe someone who isn't me likes your dumbass.” you smack Ace’s arm as he snickers over the note, an immature gesture if there ever was one.

“Well, if you like this dumbass what does that make you, huh? A stupidass?” he quips, knocking his whole body against you.

You squeal and shove him back, sticking your tongue out at his shocked face as he falls off the bed.

“Really!? This is how you’re confessing your love to me?” Ace huffs, playful as always, “I want a divorce.”

“You idiot, I’m just speaking your language!” you snap back, throwing a pillow at his head, “All you do is tease and yap and jab so I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine!”

“Oh you’re on!” Ace jumps to his feet, pillow in hand.

It’s obvious he likes you back. It always has been. And even if that person hadn’t sent that note, you two still would have known just how much you care for each other, even if it remains (mostly) unsaid.

(You still trampled that note at least ten times during your pillow fight though.)

“Is this some kind of joke?” Azul says blandly, placing the letter down on his desk of his VIP Room, “This obviously isn’t your handwriting, nor is it your style of writing.”

“That’s because it’s not mine.” you say just as blandly, raising an eyebrow as Azul looks over his spectacles at you, “Were you hoping it was?”

“What is the purpose of this visit then? You bring me some random letter with a confession of love...don’t tell me you’re hoping to butter me up.” Azul chuckles, standing up as gracefully as ever, “You should know better than anyone that those tricks do not work on me.”

You stand up as well, arms crossed over your chest as you meet his stare with your own.

“Because, Azul, someone left that note in my desk. It was addressed to you, as you can see, so I bought it for you. What you just read is what encouraged me to take action.” you take a deep breath and summon all of your courage, there truly is no turning back now, “Azul, I am interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with you. I can assure you I’ve thought this over many times before coming to you with this proposal. If you’re willing, I would love to sit down and have a talk about the terms and conditions of this deal.”

You hold out your hand for a handshake.

Azul’s mouth forms an o shape, and for a second you’d say he looks shocked, but he composes himself quickly as is all too inclined to place his hand in yours.

“Well, well, well!” he beams, voice light and airy with what you can only assume is joy, “Let’s get negotiations underway, shall we?”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” Lilia coos, bringing a hand up to his mouth, “Why do you look so sour, sweets?”

“Because it’s not from me. It was stuffed in my desk and addressed to you.” you wrinkle your nose, the envelope clenched in your fist, “I don’t like the idea of someone confessing to you before I could.”

Lilia giggles, still hiding his mouth behind his hand. You stare blankly at him, tapping your foot so hard your ankle starts to cramp up.

“Oh, no need to look so anxious, dear. I’m sure you’re well aware of where my affections lie, yes?” Lilia approaches you, his fingers intertwining with yours as the envelope flutters to the floor, unnoticed and uncared for.

He doesn’t have much time left. He’s loved and he’s lost, he may as well go for what he wants while it’s still here, in front of him.

“That is such an indirect way of confessing.” you groan, squeezing his hand, “I even got you a whole bag of mystery flavored red lollipops...”

“Gifts are best shared, my dear!” Lilia laughs, pulling you over to his bed, “Now, hurry up! I want to see which flavor I get first!”

[buffetlicious]

Bring home or gift away mooncakes in this pink tower container from Li Bai Cantonese Restaurant (李白) in Sheraton Towers (喜来登酒店). Take your pick from Baked White Lotus Seed Paste with Double Egg Yolk (双黄白莲蓉), Baked White Lotus Seed Collagen Paste with Single Egg Yolk (单黄膠原蛋白白莲蓉), White Lotus Seed Paste with Oolong King Tea and Sunflower Seed (顶级乌龙茶葵花子白莲蓉), Baked White Lotus Seed Paste with Macademia Nut (夏威夷果仁白莲蓉) or Baked Mixed Nuts (伍仁月饼).

Or break away from the tradition baked mooncakes with these lovely Assorted Mini Snowskin Mooncakes (迷你月饼). With flavours like Champagne (香槟), Pandan Coconut Gula Melaka (班兰椰子椰糖), Lychee Martini (荔枝马天尼) and Sea Salt Truffle Dark Chocolate (黑菘露海盐), how can you resist opening your wallet/purse for them?

This limited-edition Jade 15 Treasures Premium Gift Set (玉楼黄金十五月) from Fullerton Hotel (富丽敦酒店) cost S$163.50 even after discount!!! Encased within is a giant baked mooncake, filled with white lotus seed paste and eight golden yolks to symbolise the full moon on the 15th day of the eighth lunar month. Fourteen mini baked mooncakes surround this centrepiece, each in a different flavour. Their crusts depict alternating images of a celestial hare, citron fruit, and firefly - signifying bliss, light and well wishes. In case you are interested to know what flavours it comes with, they are Red Lotus Seed Paste (红莲蓉), Orange (橙子), Jasmine (茉莉花), Coffee (咖啡), Rose (玫瑰), Mixed Nuts and Pineapple (混合坚果和菠萝), Black Dates (黑枣), Almond (杏仁), Pandan (班兰), Black Sesame (黑芝麻), Cranberry (蔓越莓), Red Bean (红豆), Osmanthus (桂花) and Green Tea (绿茶).

The Fullerton Classics Baked Mooncakes (富丽敦经典月饼) feature single and double yolks baked mooncakes with reduced sugar, alongside two new creations this year - the Premium Mixed Nuts Baked Mooncake (经典五仁月饼) and the Assam Tea with Lemon, Mung Bean and Raisin Baked Mooncake (阿萨姆茶柠檬丝绿豆馅葡萄干月饼). These mooncakes will be housed in a beautiful deep-red drawer box, emblazoned with a glistening gold imprint of the Fullerton Building’s Neoclassical façade, exuding timeless elegance and refined luxury.

Selected images courtesy of Sheraton Towers and Fullerton Hotel.

[noosayog]

PLS PLS PLS VALENTINE WITH OSAMU AND SAKUSA IF YOU CAN PLS🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

your wish is my command

wc: 600

valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist

❥ Kiyoomi

“I’m not eating any of that.” 

“What!” Atsumu squawks. 

“Who knows where they’ve been or what’s in them,” Sakusa says. 

The entire Jackals team is gathered in a circle in the gym, divvying up the Valentine’s day gifts that fans sent in. Each of the players have their own little mountain of presents and treats, Atsumu already digging into his. 

Atsumu leans over to Hinata, conspiratorially placing a hand over his mouth and whispering loudly, “dude’s heartless. These are people’s feelings!” 

Sakusa sighs at the setter’s antics. “I’ll read the cards. I just won’t eat any of the food.” 

Atsumu continues making snide comments, which Sakusa ignores. He continues rifling through each card and hand-written note, setting the reviewed ones in a neat pile aside from the unopened ones. 

The next card, pastel yellow, catches his eyes. He unfolds the card and reads the writing, hardly legible in long scribbles. After reading the card, he places it in a pile, all on its own, and opens the attached box of chocolates. He pops one in his mouth before continuing to sort through the unorganized pile. 

Atsumu gapes. “Thought ya said ya weren’t eating any of it!” 

Sakusa ignores in favor of finishing sorting through his portion, gathering it up in a bag, and making his way out of the gym. 

On his way home, he pulls out his phone and gives you a ring. 

“Omi?” you greet. “Hi! How was your day?” 

Sakusa grins, popping another chocolate truffle into his mouth. “Through fanmail?” he asks with mock disapproval. “What if I had missed it?”

He hears your sweet giggle ring through the line.

“You wouldn’t have.” 

❥ Osamu

“Baby,” he complains. “Please. Can I go to bed? I’m so tired from work.” 

“Just 5 more minutes. Promise!” 

Osamu groans and plops a head down onto the table. You have him sat at the dining table while you labor away in the kitchen, placing the final finishing touches on the massive chocolate cake you baked him for Valentine’s Day. 

You put all your focus into smoothing out the frosting, before finally placing one single candle in the center and carrying it out to the table. 

When you place the cake on the counter, you find Osamu dozing off with a cheek pressed into the table. You smile softly at him, feeling slightly guilty that you’ve kept him up even after his long day at the restaurant. You lightly run a hand through his hair and he jolts up at the sensation.

As he blinks the sleep off, his eyes find the candle shining in the dark first. 

You expect a small smile from him, a simple thank you; even a passing whine about how you kept him up for so long just over Valentine’s day would be warranted.

Instead, you watch in awe as his eyes light up when he sees the cake, all thoughts of sleep vanishing. He roughly pulls you into his lap and presses open-mouthed kisses into your sternum.

“Awww, baby,” he coos. “Ya made a whole cake? Even though ya must’ve been tired from work?” 

You melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing your face closer to his. 

“Nah,” you giggle bashfully. “‘M not tired. I’m the one who’s sorry for keeping you up.” 

He simply kisses your apology away, asking you to cut him a slice. 

The two of your forego slicing, the knives and plates seemingly miles away from the comfort of your seat on his lap. Instead, the two of you chip away at the cake with just one fork, the rest of your night spent on his lap, alternating between forkfuls of cake and sweet, sweet kisses.

[ticklygiggles]

A date worth remembering| Zayne x Reader

Collab with @otomiyaa

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! We're early for this one but we wrote it in like one day *applause* we love our doctor that much 😍 we hope you guys enjoy it!

Summary: Chocolate? Check. Gift? Check. Food? Check. A clueless boyfriend? Check! All ready for the perfect Valentine's day!

Words: 2k

You felt a little silly. Your cheeks were red and your heart was about to jump out of your chest as you made your way to Akso Hospital. Night had already fallen over Linkon City, but the streets still looked very alive and vibrant. Everywhere you looked, there was a couple holding hands, hugging and even sharing kisses in the middle of the street, causing your already reddened cheeks to get even hotter. 

Flowers, chocolates, balloons and heart-shaped decorations filled the restaurants around. It was that big celebration again: Valentine's day. You couldn't say you'd ever been drawn to that particular celebration. Thousands of other more important things were running through your head most of the time, but... now Valentine's Day didn't feel so foreign to you. 

With your free hand, you covered the silly but huge smile that stretched your lips. On your other hand, you carried a plastic bag with two lunchboxes, food warm and ready to serve; in your bag were two boxes: a heart-shaped one filled with truffles and dark chocolate. The other, a small rectangular box with a pen with a certain doctor's name engraved on it. It was your first time celebrating Valentine's day, you couldn't help but go a bit overboard.

Your voice sounded funny as you checked in at the reception. They had gotten used to you popping in unannounced, being Dr. Zayne’s partner. You were allowed access and made your way by yourself to his office. You couldn’t wait to see his response… Giggling and humming to yourself, you ended up in front of his door, and you breathed in. 

“Alright then,” you whispered, raising your hand to knock on the door. Right at that moment, the timing magical and so funny, the door opened and Zayne showed up. He looked at you and your raised hand, and then moved back into his office.

“Great timing. I was about to go catch some lunch.” He walked back inside, letting you stumble in with your luggage. You were used to your boyfriend being such an ice queen. 

“You? Lunch, at a regular time?” you asked. 

Zayne shrugged. “I remember a certain someone promising me to eat lunch normally if I did too, so I’ve got to set an example,” he said kindly. You smiled and put the bags down beside his desk.

“Well, good thing I planned my visit just right then. I have something for you, of course,” you said, reaching inside the bag and taking out the chocolates first. You handed the box to him, and he accepted it with a frown on his face.

“Thank you? You know I don't usually eat sweets, but thank you for choosing dark chocolate..." Zayne said, turning the box over and carefully reading the ingredients label. “However, is there any particular reason why you're giving me this? … Is it my birthday? Isn't it during summer?” 

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him. He actually looked confused, his eyes looking at the box carefully and then turning to look at your eyes. You couldn't help but burst out laughing at his expression. You expected nothing less from Zayne, he obviously wasn't going to remember that today was Valentine's Day - it really would have been surprising if he had remembered. 

“What is so funny?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he opened the box to take a chocolate.

You giggled, cleaning a gleeful tear from the corner of your eye. “Oh, Zayne… I'm really hurt.”

That caught his attention. He quickly raised his head and looked at you with slightly widened eyes. You weren't upset that he had forgotten, you expected that to happen, but that didn't mean you couldn't act a little offended, right? 

“Did I do something?” 

“Do you know what day it is, Dr. Zayne?” you asked playfully. 

“It’s Wednesday.”

“Date?”

“February 14th,” he said, and you could see his facial expression change as he said it. He wasn’t that stupid.

“Oh.” 

He turned his head, looking just the slightest bit embarrassed. He was so cute. You strode towards him and grabbed the chocolate box that was still in his hands.

“You are in a relationship with me, and forgot about Valentine’s Day?” you asked him teasingly. He put only a little bit of effort in keeping the chocolate box as a shield in front of himself, but you managed to take it away and put it on his desk as you dragged a chair to sit beside him. 

“I was busy,” Zayne explained.

“So was I,” you hummed. “Mission after mission, but looking forward to this day,” you said, rubbing his stomach fondly through his doctor's suit. Zayne shuddered and caught your hand.

“Don’t,” he warned, but you continued to wiggle your fingers. 

“Don’t what?” 

There was no way he would say it, but the light pink hue spreading across his cheeks only made you feel more playful. Your mind convinced you that he needed to be lovingly punished for his cute mistake. Leaning in closer to him, noses almost touching, one of your hands sneakily moved to his side and your fingers gently wiggled against his flank. 

Zayne gasped and he jerked. “You– I am sorry, it r-reheally slipped my m-mihind- stohohop that!” A giggle escaped his lips when he felt soft wiggly fingers on both his sides, climbing up towards his ribs. 

“Hmm? Stop what?” You tease, smiling warmly at him; the corner of his lips trembled, stubbornly trying not to smile. “Why are you so squirmy? After not remembering it is Valentine's day, now you don't want me to be close to you? Don't you think you're being too rude, Dr. Zayne?” 

Zayne shook his head, trying to avoid facing you as he tried to push your hands away from his body, but a squeeze to that tender spot underneath his ribs had him letting out a strangled sound that made you giggle. 

“Oh? Could it be that Dr. Zayne here is ticklish? Or maybe it's just some reflexes?” 

“I’m nohohot - wait ahahah!” He turned and twisted clumsily, positioned awkwardly against his desk while you continued to tickle him. You gasped dramatically.

“You’re not? Were you going to lie to me too, on top of everything else? I’m so hurt,” you said, grinning like an idiot as you continued to observe the sweet expression on his beautiful face. Even from the funniest joke, Zayne wouldn’t ever laugh the way he did right now. Tickling was like magic, so you couldn’t help but find the smallest excuses to make your lover laugh.

“Ahahalright, that’s enough!” Zayne laughed. You cocked your head.

“I don’t understand,” you whined, your hands lowering to dig into his hips, making him jerk and jump adorably.

“I’m sohorry!” he laughed. “I forgohohot!” Zayne laughed. You didn’t even consider tickling him into an apology, but if he was going to be like this anyway…

“Didn’t quite catch that,” you said, pinching his cute hips again. Zayne let out the most adorable little cackle.

“I’m sorry I forgohohot Vahaha-Valentine’s Dahahay!” 

“Are you really sorry, Dr. Zayne?” You grinned, leaning so close to his laughing face. “Don't forget I haven't used my special weapon yet,” you teased, your hands moving behind him, your fingers gliding across his lower back, making Zayne gasp sharply and jump forwards, your noses now definitely touching. 

“I truhuhuly am sohohorry!” He laughed, his arms suddenly wrapping you in a tight hug. You blinked in surprise, your hands stopping before you wrapped your arms around him too, squeezing him tightly as he laughed breathlessly against your ear. 

How could you deny him a hug when he was letting you listen to that wonderful sound he could only do? Zayne's laughter was definitely the best gift for any occasion. How could you not forgive him? 

“Did you learn your lesson, Dr. Zayne?” You asked, kissing his shoulder. “I'm sure you won't ever forget about it, hmm?” 

Zayne sighed, finally breathing normally. He nuzzled your neck with his nose and you giggled, pressing yourself closer to him. 

“Even though I was laughing against my will,” he said, playfully biting your neck and making you gasp. “My apologies were sincere. I am also sorry because I didn't get you a present… dinner's on me next time.” 

You hummed, the most ridiculous grin pulling at your lips. “That's okay, Zayne. I kinda knew you wouldn't remember it. I know you that well.”

“...” He leaned back to look at you. “And yet you decided to tickle me?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was your punishment!” 

“I see,” he said, nodding slowly. You held your breath when he gave the most intense stare for a few seconds. He then let go of you and moved towards your bag.

“So did you bring anything else, or will we have chocolate for lunch?” he asked. You breathed out. For a moment you thought he was going into revenge mode.

“There’s lunch of course. A healthy one. Warm.”

“Did you pack it well? I hope it didn’t get cold,” Zayne said. You nodded proudly.

“The way I pack it, it never gets cold,” you said. Zayne hummed.

“Good. Then we have a little more time.” Suddenly he had both hands on you, and you jumped up in a wave of surprise and panic as he started to tickle you.

“Hohohold on! Zahahayne!” You tried to make your escape, but he pulled you back. 

Zayne held you firmly against his chest, one arm wrapped around your back, his fingers sneaking under your arm from behind as his other hand clawed at your ribs and then quickly moved to your hips. You laughed against his chest, your cheeks flushing at the thought of someone hearing your laughter.

“Uhuhunfahahair! UHFAHAHAIR!” You cackle, trying to push him away, but it was useless, he had you trapped. “Why ahahare you tihihickling mehehe?!” 

Zayn chuckled, his chest rumbling against yours. “Well, you tickled me first, I guess I'm just returning the favor… you also took away my chocolate. That was mean, don't you think?”

You shook your head, shrieking and laughing as he tickled you mercilessly. How dare he?! He was the one who forgot but he still tickled you?! How was that fair? You wanted to ask him, but you were too busy laughing your head off and the only word that came out of your mouth was his name. 

“Yes, yes,” he said calmly as he lifted your arm a little so he could bury his hand properly under it. “I am right here. You don't need to call me anymore.”

You were blushing so much it felt like your cheeks were on fire. “Plehehease! Nohoho!” you whined tiredly when his fingers wouldn’t let you rest for one second.

“Why not?” Zayne asked, his voice soothing. You shut your eyes and squirmed in his tight embrace.

“It tihihickles,” you laughed, slowly losing strength in your voice and body to protest already. To think you stood the best chances against the strongest Wanderers, yet just a little bit of tickling from Zayne and there was nothing you could do.

“Good.” Zayne’s hand that was tickling your ribs had dropped further down and moved under your clothes where he rubbed your bare tummy lovingly. You couldn’t help but feel blessed and tortured at the same time, relaxing in his hold.

“Shall we have lunch then?” Zayne finally said, slowing down his tickle attack but not entirely stopping it yet. You nodded quickly.

“Y-yehehes,” you giggled. 

“What did you say?” Ah, he even returned your own teases to you, acting as if he didn’t hear it well. 

“Yes!” you squeaked and he chuckled, finally stopping his playful assault. You collapsed against him, breathing heavy and giggling softly. “You're s-soho mehean, Dr. Zayne,” you whined playfully, looking up at him with a little pout. “You truly don't deserve me, I'm too good for you.”

Zayne laughed softly and kissed your rosy cheek. “Yes, yes. I don't deserve you,” he said, rolling his eyes and kissing your forehead. 

“You don't deserve the other gift I have for you either,” you said nonchalantly, slowly moving away to take the lunchboxes out.

Zayn arched an eyebrow and he discreetly looked around, trying to find that other gift. You grinned. 

“Did I make our doctor feel a bit curious?” You teased, placing the lunchbox in front of Zayne, who blushed slightly at your words, but refused to say anything. “You truly don't deserve it, but…,” you said, grabbing your bag and pulling out the little box. “I hope you like this, Zayne.”

Zayne grabbed the box, but he didn't open it immediately. He stared at it, perhaps a little too shy and you smiled warmly. 

“Hey, it's okay, love” you said, placing a loving hand against his thigh. “You can open it. Don't worry about anything! You already gave me a beautiful gift.” He frowned and you playfully poked his ribs, making him gasp. “Your laugh and also your time.”

Zayne stared at you before chuckling softly. “You're so corny.” He opened the box, and he paused for a moment before taking out the pen.

“....That’s…” You hoped you weren’t making him feel burdened, so you quickly leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Do you like it?” you asked. Zayne turned his head and smiled at you. Without answering, he pulled you closer and kissed your lips. Ah, so that was a big yes. You melted into the kiss and whined a little when he pulled apart. 

“I truly don't deserve you,” he said and you giggled, kissing his nose.

“Don't be silly,” you said, feeling your cheeks flushing. “Now, let's eat before our lunch really gets cold! I'm sure you'll love it. It's soooo healthy! It even has-

“Carrots…” 

“Hmm? Oh! I think that's m-mi-ahahaha! No! Nohoho! Wahahait!” 

You could barely get another word out as a very vengeful yet sweet and charming Doctor Zayne renewed his tickly revenge, and you couldn’t help but love him for it. Well… It was definitely a Valentine’s Day with remembering! 

[petriwriting]

French Poetry & Chocolate. - Regulus Black X Reader

A/N: First request woo! anyway. enjoy! (Requested) She/her pronouns for the reader as requested. Though I typically use they/them for my writing.

Anonymous asked:

A Regulus black x Slytherin reader where they are best friends and the reader gets her period and he helps and comforts her? No worries if not!

The Slytherin common room was only this quiet on weekends when most students were out socializing, and partying. Though for y/n, they'd spent most of the day in bed in her room, curled up in bed with a comforting novel her best friend had brought from home.

Y/n was busy, nose buried in this novel, too engulfed in fiction to even notice that Regulus was standing in the doorway. He knocked on the door that was open gently to alert y/n of his presence.

"Hello," Regulus said, moseying about with his hands in his pockets after setting his satchel down near the dresser. Y/n was a bit embarrassed, her hair was a bit messy, and she was wearing comfortable clothes, even her room was a bit messy in the absence of her roommates. "Hi," Y/n said, gesturing for Regulus to sit at the end of her bed. he followed suit, taking note that Y/n looked unwell.

they had been best friends since before their first year, so they had seen the best and the worst of one another over the years. It didn't bother Regulus, but it did raise some concerns.

"I haven't seen you out and about today, So I thought I'd check in." Y/n leaned up, shrugging slightly. "Yeah, I haven't been feeling well," she admitted.

Regulus frowned. "I can take you to the hospital wing now if its-"

He was promptly cut off. "no, no reg, I'm fine really. I just started my period. That's why I haven't felt well today."

Regulus nodded, sitting there. for a boy who reads so much, this was probably one of the only topics he didn't have any knowledge about. "Well if I can help in any way do let me know." Regulus wasn't sure of what to say. He only grew up with a brother, and his mother kept herself incredibly private. So it was no wonder the poor boy found himself useless. Y/n chuckled slightly. "I do appreciate it. I've been reading this."

Y/n turned the novel over to show him the cover. It was a dramatic fiction novel about two muggles. something regulus had recommended. "Oh, how are you liking it?" his eyes lit up, he was excited that y/n liked the book he had suggested to her and brought around.

"Oh, I think it's lovely." Y/n went on. "It's been keeping me on the edge of my seat. Who would have thought muggle fiction would be so interesting?" Y/n chuckled slightly.

"Well if you're interested I could read you some of my favorite poetry, I have another book with me today," Regulus said.

Y/n's eyes lit up, "that would be awesome." she said, patting the edge other side of her bed for Regulus to sit by her. The boy grabbed his satchel, rummaging through its contents. "I actually also have this." Regulus pulled out a small black velvet box, handing it to Y/n as he sat next to her with a small poetry book. Y/n reached over, gently opening the box to reveal some very fancy and decadent chocolates. "my mother sometimes gives them as gifts to people she wants to impress, they are very delicious- but, very sweet."

Seeing that y/n was excited, despite not feeling well made Regulus feel content. "Thank you reg, seriously." the two shared a glance, and the boy pushed his dark curls out of his face clearing his throat.

As he began reading, settled beside him, head resting on his arm as she tried the small chocolate truffles he had offered, instantly feeling a lot better than she had been all morning.

Regulus began reading his poetry, it was all in French, but he translated for her. A French poet, Charles Baudelaire was one he had been reading recently.

Always be drunk. That's it! The great imperative! In order not to feel Time's horrid fardel bruise your shoulders, grinding you into the earth, Get drunk and stay that way. On what? On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever. But get drunk. And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the porches of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the dismal loneliness of your own room, your drunkenness gone or disappearing, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: "Time to get drunk! Don't be martyred slaves of Time, Get drunk! Stay drunk! On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"

As Regulus spoke the words, he peeked over at y/n who was sleepily listening. By the time he was halfway through another poem, Y/n was fast asleep, and Regulus was content.

[vodika-vibes]

Hi sweetheart; I've been feeling really down and stressed today and I was wondering if I could please have a female reader x Jango Fett scenario where he knows whenever she's stressed and depressed by how much chocolate she has throughout the day I.e. Chocolate Caff, or hot coco and triple choc chip cookies, and several pieces of her favorite chocolate block etc and he tries to ask her about it, but she brushes him off and doesn't want to talk about it, so he just hugs her until she responds and feels better? If you can't make it work with Jango Fett, feel free to go with whichever clone inspires you most for this. Thank you either way. 💖

An Observant Man

Summary: Jango knows his riduur better than anyone, so when she has a bad day, he knows just what to do.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 936

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm sorry you're going through a hard time right now! I hope this helps, at least a little bit. I decided to write it solely from Jango's POV. I hope you feel a little better soon.

Jango has always been an observant man.

As a bounty hunter, he has to be observant. Able to recognize the ins and outs of every place that he visits, able to determine if something is unusual or not.

It’s a talent that’s kept him alive on more than one occasion.

And it’s one of the more useful skills he’s learned over the years. Though, it’s also one of the skills that he has the hardest time turning off, even when he’s safe in the arms of his riduur.

So, when he comes home after a long hunt that turned even longer, he can’t help but take note of the things that have changed in the home he shares with his beautiful riduur.

He takes note that she rearranged the front hallway and added a bench for him to sit on when he removes his armor. He notes that there’s a new painting on the wall near the front door, likely a gift from their nephew, based on the…unique color choice.

The front hallway smells like a mix of flowers and chemicals, which suggests that she invested in some of the carpet powder to use when he’s away. So long as she doesn’t use it when he’s here, he doesn’t mind. 

He quickly removes his armor and moves through the house, taking in several of the other small changes. Several items have been moved to better locations, some pieces of furniture have new coats of paint, or stain-

There’s a new blanket tossed over the arm of the couch, one made by her own hands, if he had to guess based on the color of the yarn used. Jango releases a fond laugh as he picks up the blanket and trails his fingers over the soft material. 

Maybe he can talk his riduur into letting him bring this back to his ship. 

He just…has to find her first.

Jango folds the blanket and sets it on the couch, before allowing his feet to lead him through the halls until he reaches the kitchen. The kitchen looks the same as ever; the same pale yellow paint, the same kitchen table and chairs, the same scent of cinnamon and apples that always fills the room-

And there, absently stirring a mug, is his riduur. Her hair pulls off her neck with a ribbon, clad in one of his older shirts, her feet bare.

She truly is the most stunning woman in the galaxy.

He leans against the door frame and watches her for a moment, a small smile on his lips. Though, slowly, the smile fades as his gaze slides across the kitchen counter. 

Hot chocolate mix. A handful of chocolate truffles. The block of rich dark chocolate he brought her from Alderaan the last time he had to visit that planet. The box of chocolate brownie mix sitting, forgotten, on the kitchen table.

A bad day then.

Hopefully not longer. The idea of her suffering without him here to support her breaks his heart.

“I’m home, riduur.” He finally says quietly, and he knows that she knows that he’s there, because she doesn’t jump or start. Instead, her hand pauses from where she’s stirring her drink.

Tellingly, she doesn’t turn to look at him for almost half a minute, and when she does, her smile is painfully fake. “Welcome home, Jango.” Her smile might be fake, but the relief in her voice isn’t.

“Have you had a bad day, love?”

“I’m fine.” Her answer is absent, automatic.

“Ah, cyar’ika,” he pushes off the wall and walks over to her, slowly encouraging her to slide into his arms, where she fits against him like two pieces of the same puzzle, “I know that’s not true.” Jango folds his arms tightly around her, “Will you tell me about it?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” She replies as her hands curl into the material of his flight suit, “I’m fine.”

“Hm.” Jango’s arms tighten around her, “I’m not sure if you actually believe that, beautiful, or if you’re just trying to keep me from worrying about you.”

She shrugs and presses her face against his shoulder, “Can’t it be both?”

“I’m sure it can.” Slowly he starts rubbing her back, offering silent comfort and support. “Come on, riduur. Talk to me.”

She sighs softly, “I don’t know, Jango.” She finally says softly, “I’m just…feeling off.”

“That’s okay, everyone has off days.”

“But this has been going on for days now-”

Jango’s heart clenches painfully, “I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I should have been here to support you.”

“S’not your job.”

“It is my job,” Jango corrects, “It became my job the moment you said yes to dinner with me.” He lightly kisses the top of her head, “How about, we go and cuddle on the bed. And tonight I’ll handle everything.”

“That…doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“You’ve been carrying this burden alone for days, cyar’ika. Let me carry it for you for at least one night.”

And she sighs, and pulls back to look up at him, “I love you, you know that.”

Jango smiles softly, “Not half as much as I love you, riduur.”

Finally, a small, but genuine, smile lifts her lips and tension drains from Jango’s shoulders. Quickly, he ducks his head and drops a light kiss on her lips, tasting chocolate as he kisses her, and then he pulls back and lightly urges her towards the bedroom.

It won’t help immediately, it’s going to take time for his perfect riduur to recover, but he’s going to be there every step of the way. After all, that’s his job as riduur.

[tastesoftamriel]

My grandmother once told me “a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” which to be fair considering her may have been sword technique advice. However, I was curious if you’ve ever done food for seduction. If you wanted to get someone into your bed, what would you cook them before hand? And do Tamrielic cultures have a standard “come hither” meal?

If it's a romantic meal you're after, you've come to the right place. Whether it's Heart's Day or something a little more low key, you'll make anyone in Tamriel drool over you and your kitchen prowess with these meals!

Altmer

Just like with anything else in the Summerset Isles, subtlety is key when wooing. Relationships can take centuries to build between Altmer, so some choose to speed things up a little with what's known as a courtship basket: a not-so-simple picnic that's bound to wow. First, pick a stunning picnic location and an even more stunning wine. Load up that basket with all of Summerset's finest, from peach blossom indrik ricotta and Russafeld Heights grape honey to freshly baked spiced loaves and caviar. The rest is up to you!

Argonians

As many know, Argonians become life mates through bonding ceremonies, which are a quintessential part of Saxhleel culture. Bonding ceremonies usually entail a feast, usually with foods purported to put the happy couple in an amorous mood. One of the most famous aphrodisiac dishes is juicy Moss-Foot Croaker tree frog legs grilled in pandan leaves with wild bush honey, served atop gratinated witchetty grubs and Spotted Seatrout roe.

Bosmer

Love is a precious thing in Valenwood, and courtship often involves lots of food to test a potential spouse's skill in the kitchen and as a homemaker. The much-loved Husband's or Wife's Pie (known to some as Courtship Pie) tests those culinary skills from the fiddly all-butter thunderbug carapace crust to the twelve-hour meat and jagga filling. It's an exercise in patience and love to be sure!

Bretons

Nothing is quite as romantic as a night in Wayrest at a nondescript, candlelit gourmet restaurant with a two-year waitlist. If you can't wait that long, do the next best thing and host that dinner at home (the bedchamber is just around the corner, no?). Popular courtship dishes are generally rich and include foie gras with wild berry and shallot coulis, lamb saddle served medium rare with black truffle sauce, and salted caramel and brandy custard mille-feuille.

Dunmer

The famous Queen and lover Barenziah was particularly fond of a certain dish, which Dunmer in the many years after her influence still present to potential mates as a not-so-subtle hint at something more. The dish is none other than the notoriously finicky marshmerrow and comberry choux-fflé, which is exactly what it sounds like: a feat of culinary engineering that combines delicate marshmerrow and scuttle soufflé in a clamshell of sweet saltrice choux pastry. Guaranteed to make any Dark Elf fawn over you as if you were Narsis Dren.

Imperials

Imperials aren't exactly renowned for being the best with big feelings (it's all the Divine guilt), so showing someone you love them with food is the most common love language in the Province. Whether it's one of Salmo's sweetrolls, a hearty home cooked meal, or an unforgettable stay at one of the Imperial City's top hotels, there's no wrong way to go about Imperial courtship food. However, if you really want to impress, go for a dark chocolate and pomegranate torte, with a fudgy melting chocolate centre and topped with pomegranate treacle. Indulgent!

Khajiit

It's said that Khajiiti love is as fiery as their curries, but we all know better than to eat a hot curry on a date. So, what does one offer their partner when romantically inclined in Elsweyr? Try a silk-wrapped box of moon sugar bonbons from the closest gourmet sweet shop! A box of moon sugar candy is one of the most thoughtful gifts you can woo a Khajiit with, whether it's cardamom-milk cakes or hard boiled coconut and ginger sweets. Just be careful at the confectioners, because clashing flavours are a sign of bad taste...

Nords

If there's one race whose digestive system is directly linked to their nether regions, it's Nords. Just the mention of a romantic meal of buttery mudcrab legs with sourdough, twice-roasted elk basted in juniper spiced Honningbrew Mead, and snowberry pudding with a Nord Ale caramel drizzle is enough to make any Skyrim native do that thing where they brush their hair behind their ear while biting their lip at you.

Orcs

Historically speaking, there are two food items that are a must for wooing an Orc: echatere cheese, and proper Wrothgarian ale. Put the two together and you'll be planning a spring wedding. Echatere cheese and Orcish ale fondues, pies, sauces, and much more are the best way to use these star ingredients, but I prefer a bit of a twist: echatere cheesecake with a caramelised biscuit crust and berry-ale compote.

Redguards

Redguards are known for being passionate lovers, who write rambling love poetry and frantically check their birthsigns for relationship compatibility. With that in mind, you're going to have to work hard in the kitchen to gain a Redguard's love. If you're not sure where to start, skip the Middas special camel-stomach meatloaf at the inn and get right to the kitchen to make some rasmalai! This unique spiced dessert of sweet cottage cheese balls are served with crushed pistachios, and a cardamom, saffron, and rose-infused cream. The punchier and more balanced the spices, the more likely you are to pull that date.

[ladykailitha]

Sugar baby!Steve/Sugar daddy!Eddie AU for WIP WEDNESDAY

WIP Wednesday! Make me write!

Just cleaning out my asks from last night!

Other ask here.

Snippet

Steve spotted the package right off the bat this time. He walked over to the black gift bag and took over to the sofa. He opened it to find a box of chocolate raspberry truffles, a small jewelry box, and a nice black wallet.

He opened the chocolates first and took a bite. The tart of the raspberry hit his tongue first and then richness of dark chocolate. Fuck they were good. Steve forced himself to just eat the one. Otherwise the whole box would be gone in an instant.

He pulled out the wallet next. It had cash as well as shiny black credit card in his name. Well, he supposed since Eddie was loading cash on it, it was more like a debit card, but still it was black. Not even his parents had a black card. It meant there wasn’t a limit on it. He could spend whatever he wanted and Eddie would pay for it.

Not that he would. God no. But Christ, he could, he absolutely could. He ran his fingers over the shiny surface in awe. Then he counted the money and he closed his eyes. There was about a thousand dollars in there. Five crisp one hundreds, ten crisp twenties, twenty tens, and twenty fives. The wallet could barely close it was so stuffed.

[fantom-as]

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ||

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞

Description: On Valentine’s day, Hermione receives a box of chocolates that starts her obsession with a certain forbidden flavour.

Trigger warnings!: cannibalism, food, sensuality, obsessive!hermione granger, dark!draco malfoy

Word count: 7,1 k

The package arrived on a cold, misty Valentine’s morning.

Hermione Granger hadn’t expected a gift—not from friends, not from admirers, and certainly not from a lover. Valentine’s Day was a frivolous holiday, one she ignored entirely. Yet there it was: a small, elegantly wrapped box resting atop her stack of morning correspondence. A crimson ribbon was tied in a perfect bow, the deep black wax seal on the card embossed with an unfamiliar crest.

Frowning, she set her tea aside and turned the package over in her hands. There was no sender’s name, no note of affection. Just her own name written in a steady, precise hand.

Her first instinct was suspicion. Working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had trained her to distrust the unexpected, and unmarked gifts were rarely innocent. A quiet Homenum Revelio revealed no hidden curses. A deeper detection spell found no poisons or enchantments. Whoever had sent it was clever—but not malicious, at least not in an obvious way.

Curiosity won.

Carefully, she tugged the ribbon free and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, was an array of the most exquisite chocolates she had ever seen. Each piece was crafted with artistic precision—some swirled with gold leaf, others dusted in shimmering red powder. Their scent was intoxicating: a blend of deep cocoa, spiced honey, and something richer, something she couldn’t quite place.

Hermione hesitated. It was foolish to eat something from an unknown sender. But something about them—about the sheer decadence of the gift—called to her.

She reached for the smallest one, a simple dark chocolate truffle with a glistening red sheen. The moment it touched her tongue, warmth bloomed in her chest. The flavor was unlike anything she had ever experienced: impossibly rich, smoother than silk, with a depth that sent a shiver down her spine. Hints of cinnamon and something darker, something more primal, lingered on her tongue as the chocolate melted away.

Her breath caught.

It was… divine.

A slow heat curled low in her stomach, a hunger awakening in her that she didn’t quite understand. She closed her eyes, savoring the lingering taste, the way it coated her tongue, the way it left her craving more.

Only when she reached for another did she notice the small slip of parchment beneath the chocolates.

With slightly trembling fingers, she unfolded it. The ink was dark, the handwriting familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place.

True hunger cannot be denied.

A chill ran down her spine.

She stared at the note, the words pressing into her flesh, sinking deep into her bones.

True hunger cannot be denied.

—

The taste lingered.

No matter how much Hermione tried to shake it, the memory of that first bite haunted her—an exquisite ghost that refused to fade. She could still feel the silkiness of the chocolate melting against her tongue, still sense the strange heat curling low in her stomach, still hear the echo of those words.

True hunger cannot be denied.

A week had passed, and she had exhausted every avenue she could think of to trace the sender. She had examined the box for enchantments, scoured magical merchant records, even enlisted the help of an Unspeakable colleague to identify any rare magical ingredients that might explain the undeniable pull of the chocolates.

Nothing.

The truffles were unlike anything commercially available. The scent, the texture, the indescribable depth of flavor—whoever had crafted them was no ordinary chocolatier. They were a master.

And Hermione needed to find them.

At first, she had told herself it was simple curiosity. A puzzle to be solved. But the more dead ends she hit, the deeper the obsession grew. She found herself thinking of the chocolates at night, her fingers itching to reach for another piece—she had rationed them, wanting to make them last, but each bite only made her crave more.

It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t logical.

And yet, the need burned inside her.

She spent hours poring through magical confectionary texts, searching for anything remotely similar. She visited every high-end chocolatier in Diagon Alley, then Hogsmeade, then Paris. Nothing matched.

She needed to go somewhere deeper, darker—akin to the flavour of the chocolates.

It wasn’t until she paid a visit to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley that she found her first lead.

The shop was as vile as she remembered—dark, musty, filled with cursed artifacts whispering to her as she passed. Borgin himself sneered as she approached the counter, but the moment she slipped a gleaming Galleon onto the wood, his demeanor changed.

“I’m looking for something rare,” she said, voice steady.

“Aren’t we all?” he replied, but his greedy eyes flicked to the coin.

She unwrapped one of the remaining truffles and placed it in front of him.

“Tell me who makes these.”

Borgin hesitated. The moment his eyes landed on the chocolate, something flashed across his face—recognition. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced with an oily smirk.

“Expensive taste, Miss Granger.”

Her pulse quickened. “You know where they came from.”

Borgin tutted. “Knowing and sharing are two very different things.”

She slid two more Galleons onto the counter. “Try me.”

He sighed theatrically but took the money. “You won’t find these in Diagon Alley, or anywhere respectable for that matter.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “There’s a place, a supper club of sorts. Exclusive. Invitation only.”

Hermione’s breath hitched.

“They call it Nocturne,” Borgin continued. “And the man behind it… well, let’s just say he has a reputation for indulgence.” His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “You won’t find his name on any registry, and you certainly won’t find an invitation. But if you’re determined…”

“I am.”

“Then you’ll want to start at the south end of Knockturn Alley. Midnight.”

The deeper Hermione ventured into Knockturn Alley, the quieter the world became. The usual rabble—the hooded figures haggling over cursed artifacts, the stench of damp stone and something rotten beneath it—seemed to retreat as she moved through the shadowed streets.

She followed Borgin’s directions until she reached an unmarked door at the alley’s dead end. A soft golden glow spilled from the cracks, the only sign of life. There was no handle, no knocker—just smooth black wood and the faint hum of magic in the air.

Hermione raised her fist and knocked.

The door swung inward.

The warmth inside was immediate, sweet and sharp. The room beyond was a lounge of sorts—intimate, dimly lit, with plush crimson seating and golden chandeliers casting flickering shadows against dark-paneled walls. A quiet murmur of conversation filled the space, punctuated by the clinking of glasses. It smelled of wine, firewood, and something rich and savory, something that made her mouth water.

And at the very center of it all, leaning casually against the polished bar, was Draco Malfoy.

Hermione froze.

She hadn’t seen him in years—not since he’d disappeared from the public eye after the war. There had been whispers, of course. That he’d fled the country. That he was running some illicit business in Eastern Europe. That he had been seen at the most exclusive wizarding gatherings, charming the elite with something only he could provide.

But none of the rumors had prepared her for this.

Gone was the sharp, wiry boy she remembered from school. The man before her was older, taller, his once-pointed features now refined with an effortless sort of elegance. His platinum hair was slightly longer, tousled in an artful way that suggested he didn’t care—or that he cared just enough to make it look that way. He was dressed in all black, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with faint scars. He held a glass of something dark and amber in one hand, his fingers lazily tracing the rim.

And he was watching her.

Their eyes met across the room, and for the briefest moment, something flickered across his face—recognition, amusement, and something else. Then, slowly, he smiled.

It unsettled her more than anything else.

Before she could decide whether to flee or march forward, he pushed off the bar and strode toward her, his movements unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world.

“Hermione Granger,” he drawled, his voice smoother than she remembered, touched with something deeper, richer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’m looking for someone.”

He arched a pale eyebrow. “How fortunate. You’ve found me.”

A sharp retort sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. Instead, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the small velvet box, the last remaining chocolates inside. She flipped it open, revealing the delicate truffles nestled within.

Draco’s gaze flicked down to them, something dark and knowing passing behind his eyes before he looked back up at her.

“I received these anonymously,” she said, studying his reaction. “I want to know who sent them.”

A slow smile curled at the edges of his lips.

“And what makes you think I would know?”

Hermione exhaled sharply. “Because they aren’t just chocolates. I’ve searched everywhere. There’s nothing like them in any shop, any market. They’re unique. And given your… reputation, I figured if anyone could help me trace them, it would be you.”

He hummed, considering her. “And what, exactly, do you think my reputation is?”

She hesitated. “Exclusive.”

That made him laugh—low and genuine. “I suppose that’s one word for it.”

Her patience was thinning. “Do you know where they came from or not?”

Draco tilted his head, watching her with quiet amusement. Then, to her surprise, he plucked one of the chocolates from the box, holding it up between two fingers.

“These,” he murmured, rolling the truffle between his fingertips, “are not something you simply find, Granger.” He met her gaze, something unreadable in his expression. “They’re something you earn.”

A chill ran through her, though she wasn’t sure why.

Draco exhaled, as if coming to a decision. Then he placed the chocolate back in the box and slid his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice low, velvet-smooth. “Come to dinner with me.”

Hermione blinked. “What?”

“You want answers, don’t you?” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Then come to Nocturne tomorrow night.” He smirked. “I’ll even cook for you.”

His words and what lay behind them sent a shiver down her spine.

But the hunger inside her—the one that had been gnawing at her ever since she first tasted those chocolates—only sharpened.

Against her better judgment, she nodded.

“Fine.”

Draco’s smirk widened.

“Good,” he murmured. “You’re going to love what I have planned.”

—

Hermione arrived at Nocturne precisely at eight.

The entrance was hidden within a narrow, candlelit corridor at the back of Knockturn Alley, tucked behind an iron-wrought gate that only opened for those meant to find it. Draco had sent no formal invitation, but the moment she approached, the gate creaked open as if welcoming her inside.

She stepped into a world of low-burning chandeliers, flickering candelabras, and an air thick with something indulgent—spiced wine, charred rosemary, and something deeper, darker, that made the hunger in her belly twist with anticipation.

At the very center of the intimate dining hall, at a long mahogany table set for two, sat Draco Malfoy.

He looked utterly at ease, clad in a tailored black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the strong lines of his forearms. A crystal decanter of deep red wine sat between them, its contents glistening in the candlelight as he slowly swirled his glass. His pale fingers were lazy against the rim, but his gaze—his gaze—was sharp, assessing, waiting.

“Hermione.” He didn’t stand, but his lips curled in something resembling amusement. “Punctual, as expected.”

She slid into the chair across from him, her eyes sweeping over the decadent table setting. The silverware was charmed to gleam unnaturally, the wine glasses were so fine they were nearly translucent, and the plates—each one made of black porcelain—held no food. Not yet.

“You said you would cook,” she remarked.

Draco leaned forward, resting his chin lightly against his fingers. “I did. And I have.” He nodded toward the far end of the room, where a pair of silent servers stood, waiting. At his cue, they moved with synchronized precision, placing the first course in front of them.

Hermione stared down at her plate.

A single, delicate bite of something deep red—seared at the edges, glistening with a glaze of dark honey and something thicker. The scent was intoxicating. It smelled rich, powerful, something that made the hunger inside her tighten with an intensity she didn’t understand.

“What is it?” she asked.

Draco’s lips curled. “Taste it.”

She hesitated—but not for long. The first bite melted against her tongue, impossibly tender, the balance of sweet and savory so perfectly aligned that it sent a shiver down her spine. A slow warmth spread through her, pooling in the pit of her stomach.

She swallowed. Licked her lips. Looked at him.

Draco was watching her with a knowing smirk. “Good?”

She exhaled. “Incredible.”

“Food is the oldest form of intimacy, you know.” He leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine. “Before there was magic, before there was even language, there was hunger. Sharing food is one of the first ways humans connected. It’s instinct.”

Hermione tilted her head. “I’d beg to differ.”

Draco laughed. “But tell me, Granger—what’s more revealing than the way someone eats?” His voice was smooth, like the wine in his glass. “You can tell everything about a person by how they approach a meal.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And what have you gathered about me so far?”

Draco studied her, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “You hesitate at first. You analyze, try to decipher what’s in front of you before committing. But once you surrender to indulgence…” His voice dropped slightly. “You don’t hold back.”

Heat crawled up her spine.

She took a slow sip of her wine to distract herself, only to find it paired perfectly with the lingering flavors on her tongue. She should have felt uneasy—this was Draco Malfoy, after all. And yet, the conversation flowed easily between them, their usual sharp wit honed into something almost playful.

Course after course appeared before them—each one more decadent than the last. Velvety soup infused with something floral and intoxicating. A slow-roasted cut of meat so tender it barely needed a knife. Dark chocolate ganache laced with the same essence as the truffles that had started this entire obsession.

Everything was exquisite. And everything made her feel something—a slow, curling heat in her stomach, a quiet but undeniable craving that only intensified with every bite.

Finally, as the last plate was cleared, Hermione sat back in her chair, exhaling. “Alright, Malfoy,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temples. “That was, without question, one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”

Draco smirked. “I know.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips. “Now tell me—what is Nocturne, really?”

Draco tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “A place for those who understand that indulgence is not a sin.” He lifted his glass, watching the deep red liquid swirl. “A place where hunger is celebrated.”

Something in his tone made her pulse quicken.

“Hunger for what?” she asked carefully.

Draco’s gaze flickered to hers, something dark and knowing settling in his silver eyes.

He just smiled.

—

Hermione hadn’t meant to keep coming back.

But she did.

At first, she told herself it was curiosity. A mystery to be solved. Draco Malfoy had vanished for years, only to resurface here, of all places—running an illicit, underground supper club where the food was intoxicating, the guests secretive, the rules unspoken. If nothing else, she wanted to understand it.

But that explanation unraveled quickly.

Because it wasn’t just the intrigue that pulled her back.

It was him.

It was the way he spoke—low, smooth, teasing—always with the perfect balance of charm and provocation. It was the way his hands worked in the kitchen, precise and deliberate, turning ingredients into something sinful with an artistry she couldn’t look away from.

It was the way he looked at her.

Like he had known, from the moment she first walked into his world, that she belonged there.

Weeks turned into months, and Hermione lost count of the nights spent at Nocturne. What began as dinners turned into late-night conversations over candlelit tables. Conversations turned into stolen moments in the kitchen, watching as Draco worked, his sleeves rolled up, his focus razor-sharp as he plated something just for her.

She learned his patterns, his rhythms.

He was always composed, but his hands betrayed him—always moving, always restless. He drank his coffee black, took his whiskey neat, never rushed a meal. He hated idle chatter but loved a good argument. He smirked when he was amused, rolled his eyes when she said something too self-righteous, tilted his head ever so slightly when he was genuinely listening.

She had never known Malfoy like this.

She wasn’t sure anyone had.

And somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.

One night, after a particularly indulgent meal—a slow-roasted dish laced with cloves and something darker, something she still couldn’t place—she had leaned back in her chair, a little light-headed from the wine, her skin warm.

Draco had watched her, his silver eyes unreadable.

“You’re comfortable here,” he murmured, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

She had smiled lazily, not bothering to argue. “I suppose I am.”

He exhaled, swirling the last of his wine. “That should probably concern you.”

“Why?”

His gaze flickered to hers. “Because being comfortable by my side is not really something you’re capable of.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Says who?”

“I do.”

“Well, maybe I changed.”

Maybe she had changed.

Because Hermione Granger—the woman who never let herself get swept away, who always followed logic, who never surrendered to impulse—was now spending most of her nights in a hidden corner of Knockturn Alley, drinking expensive wine and letting Draco Malfoy feed her things that made her knees weak.

The night she realized she was in love, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand moment, no sudden revelation.

It was simple. Subtle.

They had been in the kitchen together, long after Nocturne had closed for the night. Hermione had insisted she wanted to learn—wanted to understand the magic of the food, the way he crafted flavors that sent warmth curling in her stomach.

So Draco let her watch. Let her stand beside him as he worked, his sleeves pushed up, his fingers moving deftly over the cutting board as he taught her how to slice something just so.

She had teased him about being a perfectionist. He had smirked, flicked a bit of sauce at her wrist. She had rolled her eyes, but she had smiled too.

And then, at some point, without thinking, she had reached for a bowl at the same time as him—her fingers grazing against his.

A simple touch.

But when she looked up, Draco was watching her.

Something shifted.

The air between them stretched thin, tight, electric.

Hermione felt her pulse against her skin, sharp and insistent. Felt the heat of his body standing too close. Felt the pull—the quiet, undeniable pull—that she had been ignoring for weeks.

Her breath caught.

And that was when it hit her.

What set her loins on fire.

It wasn’t just the food.

It was him.

—

It started with a feeling.

A slow, creeping sense of unease that settled in Hermione’s bones long after the meals were finished, long after the wine was drunk, long after she had let herself believe that this—whatever this was—was real.

Draco Malfoy had made her feel alive.

But something was wrong.

It wasn’t immediate. The realization did not crash down all at once. Instead, it dripped in—slowly, subtly, like the honeyed glaze he used to coat the tender cuts of meat he served her. It seeped into her mind in the quiet moments, in the spaces between bites, in the hunger that never seemed to fade, no matter how much she ate.

She had never craved food like this before.

Not just the flavor, but the feeling of it. The warmth that spread through her veins, the way it settled deep in her belly, the way it left her skin flushed and her thoughts hazy. She would wake in the middle of the night, mouth dry, body aching with a need she didn’t understand.

And then there were the dreams.

Dark, twisting things.

She dreamt of teeth sinking into flesh. Of hands slick with something warm. Of voices whispering words she couldn’t remember in the morning.

At first, she told herself it was nothing. A side effect of indulgence. Her body adjusting to the rich, spiced meals she had been consuming for months.

But then she started noticing the absences.

People disappeared from Nocturne.

Not all at once, not enough to raise alarm—just one guest at a time, names she barely remembered, faces that blurred together in the candlelight. A woman who had once dined beside her, a man who had toasted Draco over wine, a quiet figure who had occupied the same corner booth every week—gone.

She asked Draco once, in passing, where they had gone.

He had only smirked, sipped his wine, and said, “People lose their appetites sometimes.”

A joke. A meaningless answer.

But it didn’t feel meaningless.

And then, one night, she made a mistake.

She had lingered after closing again, watching as Draco moved through the kitchen, his hands steady, his expression calm. She had watched him work so many times, had admired the precision in which he prepared every dish, had let herself believe in the magic of it.

But this time, she noticed something different.

A locked cabinet at the far end of the kitchen.

She had never seen him open it before. Never seen him retrieve anything from inside. It was black, reinforced with iron, humming with protective spells. A chill curled down her spine the moment she saw it—an instinctual, primal sort of dread that made no sense.

Draco caught her looking.

His movements didn’t falter, but for the first time, his expression shifted.

Subtle. A flicker of something behind his eyes—warning, perhaps. Or regret.

“You’re curious about the wrong things, Granger.” His voice was smooth, too smooth. A distraction.

Hermione forced a smile. “I thought I was supposed to be learning.”

Draco’s lips curled, but it wasn’t quite a smile.

“There are some recipes,” he murmured, “that are better left untasted.”

Hermione couldn’t let it go.

The locked cabinet, the disappearances, the lingering taste of something too rich, too intoxicating, too wrong on her tongue—each piece gnawed at her mind, twisting her thoughts into something dark and restless.

She should have walked away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she started watching. Really watching.

She paid attention to the way Draco worked, the way his hands moved over the food with reverence, like it was something sacred. She noted how certain dishes were only served to certain people, how some meals came with a quiet exchange of glances between him and the servers, how he always ensured she had the most exquisite, the most delicate, the most carefully prepared plates.

And then there was the hunger.

It wasn’t just hers anymore.

She started noticing it in the others—the way the guests at Nocturne ate like they were starving, how they devoured each bite with something bordering on desperation. How their skin was always a little too warm, their eyes a little too bright, their movements a little too sharp.

Something was wrong.

And she needed to know what.

One night, when Draco was preoccupied in the dining hall, she acted.

The kitchen was empty, the low candlelight flickering against the iron cabinet that had haunted her thoughts for weeks.

She hesitated for only a moment before drawing her wand.

“Alohomora.”

The spell fizzled uselessly against the locks. Wards. Strong ones.

She bit her lip. Of course Malfoy wouldn’t make it that easy.

Glancing over her shoulder, she pressed her fingers against the cool metal, feeling the faint pulse of magic beneath her touch. This was not just a storage cabinet. This was something else.

A heartbeat of silence.

Hermione turned sharply, expecting Draco, expecting a reprimand, a smirk, a warning—

But she was alone.

Alone, except for the scent.

A thick, cloying scent that she had somehow ignored until now, masked by the richness of the other ingredients, by the perfumes of wine and spice and roasted herbs.

Something coppery.

Acidic.

Her stomach twisted. She knew this smell.

Blood.

Hermione staggered back from the cabinet, her breath coming too fast, too sharp. No. No, no, it couldn’t be—

“Looking for something?”

The voice was smooth, calm.

Draco.

She spun to find him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his silver eyes fixed on her like he had been expecting this moment all along.

Her throat was dry. Her heart pounded.

“I—” She forced herself to swallow, to breathe. “What’s in the cabinet, Draco?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward—unhurried, composed, as if they were simply discussing the weather.

When he reached her, he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear.

“You already know,” he murmured.

A shiver crawled down her spine.

She pulled back, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered. “Tell me.”

Draco studied her, his gaze flickering over her face, assessing. And then, with slow, deliberate movements, he reached into his pocket.

A key.

Hermione’s breath hitched as he turned to the cabinet and—without flourish, without hesitation—unlocked it.

The door creaked open.

The scent hit her first—thicker now, undeniable—and then, the sight.

Rows of glass containers, filled with preserved ingredients that shimmered in the candlelight. Some were familiar—spices, oils, aged wines—but some—

Some were not.

She felt bile rise in her throat.

Because she had spent months letting Draco feed her.

And now, staring at the carefully labeled jars, at the cuts of flesh, at the preserved pieces of something once human—

She realized she had been eating people.

A sharp breath. A step backwards.

Draco was watching her with quiet, patient amusement.

Her knees nearly buckled.

“Oh, God,” she whispered.

Her stomach twisted violently, a flood of memories slamming into her all at once—the decadent meals, the rich, dark glazes, the soft, tender bites that had melted on her tongue. The hunger that had never truly gone away.

She had wanted it.

She had loved it.

And Draco—Draco knew.

His smirk was slow, deliberate. Pleased.

“Hermione,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice nothing but velvet and ruin.

Her breath was ragged. “How long?”

He reached out, gently brushing his thumb against her lower lip. Like he had done so many times before.

A soft, knowing smile.

“From the very first bite.”

Hermione ran.

Not immediately—not driven by instinctual panic as she should have, not in a blur of panicked gasps and splintered glass. She should have screamed. Should have turned on her heel and fled from Nocturne, from Draco, from the dark, seething hunger that curled inside her stomach like a thing alive.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she walked out in measured steps, her face blank, her hands steady, her breathing slow and calculated—because she knew, she knew, that if she let even a single crack show, he would see it.

And Draco Malfoy did not miss a thing.

So she left quietly.

And then, she did not sleep for three nights.

Because the truth had rooted itself in her mind like a disease.

She had eaten them. She had eaten them.

The nameless, faceless strangers who had dined at Nocturne before disappearing without a trace—the ones she had barely noticed, the ones who had smiled and laughed and raised their glasses to Draco, just as she had, never suspecting that their last toast would be to their own flesh.

She had devoured them.

And worse—worse—

She had loved it.

The fear did not drive her away.

It drove her deeper.

She should have burned Nocturne from her memory. She should have buried the name, buried the taste, buried the way Draco had looked at her when she finally knew.

Instead, she became obsessed.

She scoured the Daily Prophet for missing persons, tracing the names, the dates, the places where they were last seen. She studied the menus at Nocturne, memorizing each course, each ingredient, each delicate, exquisite cut of meat. She replayed the conversations in her mind—the things Draco had said, the way he spoke of food, of hunger, of indulgence.

She knew what he was.

[darkgodcomplex]

You

Wally X Reader

AO3 LINK

Content warnings: yandere, extreme violence, graphic gore, major character death, psychological horror, stalking, manipulation

Wally loves visiting you.

He tries to as often as possible, disguising it as just another neighborly check-in. He hopes you never find out that he doesn't check on the others nearly as much he comes to check on you.

When he feels like he's checked in on you too often, he hovers outside your house, watching from the bushes to get a glimpse at what you're doing. After all, you're his best friend! He absolutely must know what you're up to!

No, you're so much more than his best friend.

You're his.

He always makes sure to bring you some sort of treat. The way you light up when he holds out a slice a pie or a piece of candy makes his chest flutter with excitement. Yes. Only he can make you feel this way. It doesn't matter that you entertain the other neighbors, he knows that secretly you only like him.

With a swift knock on your door, he waits for you to answer. The special gift he's brought today is a box of chocolate truffles he made himself.

Well, with Home's help of course.

You're always finished with dinner by this time, he knows this from watching your routine. He thinks this is the perfect time to bring you a little dessert. Usually you're curled up on your couch watching TV by now.

The thought of you watching his show makes him puff out his chest in pride. Of course you watch it, you love him just as much as he loves you.

You don't answer the door right away, which makes him worry. Has something bad happened to you?

He waits patiently for another minute. He wouldn't wait for just anyone, so he hopes you know how special you really are to him. He knocks again, harder this time. It's not very neighborly of him, but he can't help it when it comes to you.

Where are you?

He leans his head to peak through your living room window. It's dark and the TV isn't on. With careful eyes he scans the rest of your windows. There seems to be no lights on at all in the house.

"Oh, Wally, hey!"

He turns to see you coming up your driveway, Howdy Pillar in tow. Twinges of jealousy plague his chest, but he keeps his composure. He hates that you have your arm linked with Howdy's.

"Hi, neighbor!" He grins, glaring at Howdy. Howdy notices and slowly unlinks your arms.

"We just went out for dinner." You tell Wally, eyes scrunching up in a smile. He instantly forgives you for all the attention you're giving Howdy, he knows you don't mean anything by it. You're just a friendly neighbor, it's what he loves about you.

"That's wonderful." His eyes soften as he looks at you. You're so excited to tell him. "That means that you probably should be going then." He looks at Howdy. "Right, Howdy."

"Um, yes, I'd better be off." Howdy tilts his hat, quickly scampering off.

"Oh." You turn to watch him go. "Well, bye, Howdy."

"Bye, Howdy!" Wally waves with a large smile. Howdy doesn't turn to wave back.

Good. Maybe Howdy's learned to keep away from his property.

"I brought you a little something." He holds out his handmade treats for you, which you delight in.

"These are so nice, Wally!" You gush. He can practically feel his heartbeat in his ears just from your kind words. "Why don't you come in?"

There's the ticket. He loves when you invite him in. Maybe it's because his Home is so personal to him, but it feels special when you let him inside.

You set the chocolates on the coffee table and gesture for him to sit down as you go to make drinks for you both, you're just neighborly in that way. When you slip into the kitchen, he takes the time to poke through your stuff.

You have books scattered all over. He expects as much from you.

Painting supplies.

Aw, are you trying to be like him? He admires the effort.

On a shelf is a bouquet of flowers. He knows it's from Julie and it once again sets him aflame.

Soon you'll understand why he hates having all these people poking around your life, tainting you with their dirty touches. All he wants is to protect you, keep you away from all these psychos. He delights at the idea of getting to punish you for all the attention you've been receiving as of late.

He can hear you heading back to the living room, so he scrambles to sit politely on the couch. You come in holding two mugs, graciously handing him one before taking a seat on the other end of the sofa and sipping your own drink.

You hold the mug so delicately it drives him wild. Still, he's well mannered, taking a drink from his mug.

"What did you do at your dinner?" He can't help but pry for information.

"Oh, it wasn't anything special, we just had Italian." You tell him. "It was really good though!"

Surely it wouldn't have been as good as having dinner with him. He could've cooked it himself, he knows you would've enjoyed that. You appreciate effort.

You continue on, "Howdy is so nice, he invited me to go see Sally's play next week!"

Wally can feel his eye twitch. You just don't understand the things you do to him, why you can't just be running around town with all these people.

"I suppose I'll have to come along as well." He smiles, mug pressed against his lips.

It's then that he notices it. On the table, a polaroid photo of you and Howdy, both smiling wide for the photo, arms wrapping around each other.

It drives him mad. How can he call this naïveté if you're practically flaunting it about?

He's decided it. He needs to take care of Howdy. For your sake, really, you just don't understand how dangerous some people are. Only he can protect you.

He grins as he listens to you ramble on with your story, thinking hard about his next move.

Soon you'll love him the same way he loves you.

_____

Wally curses quietly to himself as blood gets on the white soles of his shoes. Stupid Howdy, even in death finding ways to inconvenience him.

Whatever, it isn't as if he hasn't gotten his hands a little dirty before. Plus, this cause is certainly worth the effort. Hoisting Howdy up by his armpits, Wally drags the man towards the noose he laid out nicely. Sally had taught him well in the art of staging a scene.

With quick hands, he is able to loop the rope around Howdy's neck and pull the corpse up towards the ceiling, tying the extra bit of rope to the leg of the sofa.

All taken care of.

Of course, he is sad to lose a neighbor. Wally does care about his friends, but they should know better than to touch his stuff. Good friends respect each others' property.

So, Wally leaves Howdy to rot. Secretly, he hopes that you find the body. The trauma and horror of finding someone like that would be sure to make you run to his arms for comfort. Oh, and he would be so good at comfort too, letting you cry your eyes out while you sit in his lap. You'd look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Unfortunately, you don't find the body, Julie Joyful does.

Not so joyful now.

Still, you're upset, which is all he could've asked for really.

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers, which were only chosen to replace the ones he saw the last time he was at your house. His are so much better anyway. He gives a jolly knock on your door, glancing through the window to watch you make your way over.

"Hi Wally." Your eyes are red from crying. "Thank you for coming over."

"Of course." He steps into your house, handing over his gift. "Are you alright?"

You gingerly take the flowers, rubbing at your eyes. "I'm okay, really."

"Why don't we sit." His fingers ghost along your back as he leads you to the couch. You let yourself be guided by him, which he delights in. See? You follow his directions so nicely, how can he not like you?

You set the flowers onto the coffee table, which has gotten cluttered. He supposes that you haven't done much cleaning since the incident. You slump back onto the couch, eyes distant.

"I just never thought that he would be the kind of person..." Your lip wobbles as you speak, eyes trained on the floor.

"It's alright." He says, scooting closer to you. "I promise, things will be okay in the end."

"Yes, I know they will be." You nod, tears threatening to spill at any minute. "I just can't believe he's gone."

"I'm always there for you, you know." He replies, hand stroking your back.

"I know, Wally."

"I don't think you do." He knows his eyes are wild and tries to tame their intensity as to not scare you. Grasping at your chin, he tugs it up so that that he can stare into your flooded eyes. "I'm always there for you. More than anyone else ever could."

Confusion clouds your gaze, along with another emotion he can't quite detect.

"You're not my only friend, Wally."

This one cuts him deep. No, he isn't your only friend, but he should be. You're his, why don't you understand that?

"Of course not." He puts on a warm smile. "You have Julie, Sally, Eddie, all the others."

"Yes." You agree, but you're quiet.

"For now, at least." He adds.

You grow quiet and he knows he messed up, but he just can't help it. He knows that he should take his time with you, yet it's so difficult to watch you subconsciously resist his efforts. Being slow takes forever, he wants it now.

You cough, "Um, I'm actually getting tired." He internally curses himself for upsetting you.

"Oh, of course." He stands. "I'm sure you've had a long day."

"Yeah, I have." You nod, standing as well.

He tugs you into a hug, feeling you stiffen against his body as he lets it linger for a second. You're so soft to the touch, so fragile. You'll forgive him for his little misspeak, you're too kind of a person to hold any grudges, especially against him. He doesn't want to let go from the hug, but when he does, you give him a gentle smile.

Yes, everything is all right. Especially when you give him that soft, doe-like look.

When he leaves, he doesn't actually leave. He lingers in the bushes, desperate to watch you.

You pace around the house, hands clenched in your hair as you cry. He wishes he was there, he really does, so that he can wipe your tears. You're choosing to battle this all by yourself when what you really need is him.

Soon. He promises himself. He can't rush things. That's where his problems arise. He needs to get himself in check.

You pause, worrying at your lip as you stare at something on the coffee table. He wonders what you're looking at until you grasp it in your hands.

His flowers!

He knew you'd love them! His stomach flutters as you carry them to your kitchen. He repositions himself so that he can now see through the kitchen window.

You open a lower cabinet and he gives a light smile. Were the flowers special enough to get a vase?

No.

Wally watches in horror as you dump the flowers into the trash and sob harder as you shut the cabinet once more.

Why?

Rage bubbles in his chest as his vision goes white. They had already tainted you. The neighbors... they were pitting you against him! You, in all your sweet obliviousness, had fallen trap to one of the others.

No... he knew who.

Julie.

Of course it was her, he should've suspected it from the moment he saw the flowers she had left you. She also discovered Howdy! Surely this is a dastardly plot to tear you away from him!

Not to worry. He thinks to himself. He'll save you.

He continues watching your windows even well after you're asleep, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he's in your dreams.

He'll always save you.

_____

As chill as Wally likes to pretend to be, he must admit that you drive him to insane levels of effort. Even as he hacks into Julie's body with the axe, he has hearts in his eyes thinking of you.

To the misfortune of Sally Starlet, she had been visiting when Wally decided to pay dear Julie a visit. It wasn't a hard decision to take her out too, Wally was sure that she was in on the devious plot to keep you away from him.

The pieces aren't small enough yet. Heaving it above his head, Wally brings down the axe with a careful swing. No one is ever going to find their bodies, this much he is sure of. The last death only pulled you apart from him, so his plan this time is to make you think that the two ghosted you.

He sighs to himself. Why couldn't the others understand to just stay away from you? It would prevent so much unnecessary bloodshed. He loves his neighbors.

Whatever. Their funeral.

By the time he's finished chopping the bodies, it's dark out. He doesn't need to go out, though, he knows where they will never be found.

"I have a treat for you." He's giddy as he drags the trash bags full of body parts to Home's core. In the dark room he can sense Home is watching him, but doesn't mind, not when he's in such a good mood. He tosses the bags and dusts off his hands, satisfied with his work.

As he heads back upstairs, he runs a hand through his hair, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to visit you or if it's too late in the night. It is rather late, you're probably getting ready for bed soon.

Just as he makes up his mind, the doorbell rings. He's surprised by the visitor and quickly checks himself in the mirror to make sure there's no blood on his face.

Tugging the door open, he's greeted with the sight of you bundled up in your warm clothes, eyebrows scrunched together as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

"Hello, neighbor." He beams. "I didn't expect anyone this late."

"I know, I'm sorry." You fuss, but he quickly cuts you off.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way." He smooths, enjoying how you relax your shoulders from his reassurance. "You know you're welcome any time, come in."

You step inside Home, shedding your jacket and hanging it up. He hopes you forget it so that he can clasp it in his arms tonight and fall asleep to your scent.

"Here, we can sit at the table."

Normally, he would invite you into the rest of Home, but he hadn't gotten the chance to clean up after his little... event.

"So, what's the matter?" As you sit down he interlocks his fingers, resting his chin on them.

"Julie..." You take deep breaths as you explain. "I haven't heard from her all day and we said we had plans, then Frank said he heard screaming... I just don't know what's happening."

Damn Frank had to make you think something is wrong. Not to worry though, he's an expert at spinning tales.

"Screaming?" Wally laughs. "No, Sally made up a new play! It's very dramatic, Frank's just being a worrywart again."

"But what about Julie?"

"Well..." He raises his brows. "Her and Sally were both definitely hanging out and performing that play... perhaps they simply forgot to invite you." He keeps his tone light, hoping you understand the implications of his words.

"They wouldn't forget about me." You frown, eyes falling to the floor.

"Then I suppose it was purposeful." He's more blunt with his words now, desperate to drive the point home. "Maybe they wanted to surprise you?"

You tap your foot worriedly, not replying to him. He understands it must be hard to lose your friends, he really does, after all, he's been losing these friends too! But it's for the best, besides, they aren't real friends anyway. If they were, they wouldn't be trying to take you away from him!

"Then, where are they now?" You finally speak up, voice bolder and eyes focused. "They weren't at Julie's house... or Sally's. Clearly they weren't at Frank's house... then where are they, Wally?”

He doesn't like the accusing tone you give him. He wants to punish it out of you right then and there, but holds back. Before he gets a chance to respond, Home answers for him.

A door opens in another part of Home, loud and creaking. You lift your head.

"Is someone else here?"

"No." He interjects immediately, not appreciating Home's contribution to the conversation. "Why would there be anyone else? It's just you and me."

"But-"

Floorboards bend to sound like heavy footsteps echoing through his walls. They wind through the rooms, catching your interest.

"Home-" He says in a low warning voice.

"There's definitely someone here!" You stand, wanting to move but he quickly grabs your wrist.

"There's not anyone here, I promise." He begs. "Let's just stay and sit in the kitchen."

You try to shake off his grip, but he holds on. "Let me go!" You demand. "Are they here? Is Julie here? Sally?"

"Sit Down." He's never spoken to you in such a way before, his voice commanding and scary through gritted teeth. He sees you pause in fear and feels your trembling through his grip on your wrist. He's sure this is terrifying to you, but you didn't listen to him.

You slowly obey, lowing yourself carefully onto the seat. It's only then that he dares to let go of your wrist.

"See, isn't this better?" He asks sweetly.

You instantly dash, running towards the living room. He doesn't have the reaction time to stop you, but quickly follows in hot pursuit.

"Julie!" You scream as you run. "Sally!"

Home gives you encouragement in the form of creaks and groans, leading you exactly where he doesn't want you to go.

As you enter the room, you freeze, horror flooding your features.

He really didn't want you to see this side of him.

The bloody room before you contains the scattered pieces of Sally and Julie, hunks of their flesh wedged between the floorboards and splattered on the walls. It's truly a sight to behold.

You take a step back, making a soft squeaking noise as you're unable to form words.

Wally steps behind you, pressing the front of his body to the back of yours and his hands grip around your waist. He nuzzles close to your ear, eyes trained on the gore before him. You're in so much shock that you don't even resist him.

"I guess it was about time you find out how much I truly love you." He breathes into your ear.

You open your mouth, trying to say something, but only stutter out a string of nonsense. Your trembling body against his own drives him wild, fear suits you so well. Heavy tears drip down your face, but he only hugs you tighter.

"Now we can truly begin."

The creaking and groaning of floorboards tells him that Home agrees.

_____

He's never been happier.

You're his. Truly his and his alone now.

He lays on the floor, giddy as he stares up at your beautiful form sitting in his lap, arms tied carefully behind your back. He really does mean careful, he wouldn't want to hurt you.

He can't help but tease you, tilting his hips to see the fear flash through your eyes as you attempt to maintain balance. Not to worry, his hands are always there to catch you.

Always.

Tears fall down your face, dripping and making a mess of his jacket. He thinks that the tears really bring out the color of your eyes.

You stare at him, bottom lip wobbling. "W-Wally, please-"

God, he is practically in ecstasy just from you saying his name. He had almost begun to think that you'd never belong to him. He has gotten rid of everyone in his way. Now the wait is over.

He sits up, face pressing close to yours as he sneaks his hand under the hem of your shirt, thumbing over the bare skin of your hip. He notices the faint shutter of pleasure that tingles down your spine, despite you trying to hide it. He nuzzles against your cheek, simultaneously wiping away your tears.

"There's no need to worry." He says nonchalantly, attempting to comfort you. "I wouldn't ever hurt you."

Well, not unless you deserve it.

But you don't need to know that, especially not when he's trying to get you used to your new environment.

His hands roam your waist, greedily taking in every bit of you. He's never truly known the word euphoria until now, his mind endlessly playing the same word over and over.

Mine.

"Wally, I won't tell anyone... I promise... I promise."

More tears drip onto his jacket. He loves how you stumble over your words. It's so cute.

"Please, just let me go-"

He throws his head back, grinning stupidly at the ceiling as he basks in your naïveté.

"You don't seem to understand." He looks back at your confused face. "It's always been about you. All of this."

Your eyes search his face like you're looking for answers. He chuckles. You still don't get it.

"You love me." His eyes go crazy, grin on his face only widening. "And I love you. Don't you see? We can be together now."

Your mouth drops open slightly, round eyes no longer searching as your head drops down and eyebrows scrunch up.

Good. You've realized his love!

His fingertips brush along your arm, lingering on the sturdy rope before continuing down to give you goosebumps. You shiver, shoulders shaking slightly before returning to their slump position.

"I think-"

The familiar sound of the doorbell alerts him, but without the usual flutter in his stomach that it might be you. Who could possibly be bothering him right now when he's so busy?

Wally glances at the time. He supposes it is morning, perhaps it's just Eddie delivering the mail. Hopefully it'll be easy to shoo him away so he can get back to the important things.

"I'll be right back, promise." He presses a kiss to your cheek, which you shy away from. It doesn't stop him though. With that, he lays you on the bed, giving another pat to the ropes tying your arms before heading downstairs.

Unfortunately, it isn't Eddie at the door.

"Where is everyone?" Frank demands, frown as prominent as ever on his face.

Ugh. At least Eddie is enough of a bumbling idiot that Wally can out talk him. Frank is much harder to placate.

"What do you mean?" Wally blinks innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me." Frank points an accusing finger at him. "Something happened yesterday."

"Listen," Wally steps out of the house, gently shutting the door behind him to lean close to Frank. "Frank, whatever you thought you heard last night... you were mistaken. There was no noise, you were just imaging things... Do I make myself clear?"

Wally leans back enough to catch Frank's eyes. He's calm, but Wally can tell there is a glint of fear there.

"Yes..." Frank coughs, stepping back. "I suppose you're right."

Wally gives a friendly smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Go home, Frank. Enjoy time with Eddie."

Frank swallows, giving a nod before turning and leaving. Wally watches with satisfaction before slipping back into his house.

He heads back upstairs, eager to get back to you. He's sure that you've been desperately waiting for him too, but when he reaches the bedroom, he finds it empty.

Where are you?

He's immediately thrown into a fit of panic.

"Where is she?" He shouts at Home. Why was he not warned of this?

Home is suspiciously quiet.

Nervousness pools in his chest. Home is up to something.

"What are you doing?" He demands, searching through rooms. He scrambles through, desperate to find you.

It's only when he hears you scream that he realizes where you are.

Home's core. Of course, he should've predicted this. The sneaky bastard was luring you in.

He sprints down the stairs and down the winding hallways. The further he goes, the less windows and sunlight there is, but he's used to it by now. Home's maze-like interior is quite predictable if you know how to navigate it.

He finally reaches the core, chest heaving from his run.

Floorboards chatter and pipes bang throughout the room. You're propped in the corner, terrified, arms still uselessly tied around your back.

"She is NOT food." He scolds, hands clenched into fists as he moves to grab you.

You're distraught... and oh so happy to see him! He's half thankful for Home's intervention, not that he'd show it.

"Why would you come here?" He reprimands you as well, yanking you up by your arm and dragging you out of the dim room. You stumble and struggle to keep up with him.

"The rooms..." Your bottom lip is pouting again, it's delightfully cute. "They kept changing..."

He hums. So Home did lead you down there.

There are other clanks and creaks throughout the house, but he ignores them. Home is throwing a fit.

"You don't go down there." He says. "Ever."

You simply nod your head.

It's only then that he relaxes, letting himself enjoy the soft feel of your skin as he leads you towards the bedroom again. As you both pass by the front door, he notices an important detail.

Did he leave the door open?

Sure, it's only open a tiny crack, but surely he didn't forget it?

He goes to investigate.

Before he reaches the door though, he's met with a surprise baseball bat. Frank swings high, managing to strike Wally smack in the face, sending him toppling backwards.

"Quick, let's go!" Frank yells.

Wally groans, feeling the blood gush from his face as stars cloud his vision. He can hear the sound of your hurried footsteps, but they just sound so far away. His face pulses and swells, but he still manages to pull himself up to his feet.

It takes him a moment to reorient himself. He blinks a couple times, vision coming back enough to see you and Frank slip out the door.

No.

His hands fumble to the countertop, quickly finding his knife block. He grabs the first knife his fingers find, which happens to be his boning knife.

Catching up to you both isn't that hard, especially with Frank slowing to help you along. Who knew that swinging your arms is such an important part of running?

"Frank!" You yell, but Wally is too quick. He grabs Frank by the hair, dragging him away from you. Frank yells, struggling against his grip. You try to follow, only to trip and land heavy on your chest, occupied arms unable to break the fall. The wind is knocked out of you.

Wally drags him to the ground, hand with the knife practically twitching in anticipation. Frank kicks and throws punches, even as Wally climbs on top of him.

"You keep getting in my way!" Wally shouts. He draws the knife closer, but Frank grabs his wrist. Gravity is on his side though and he inches closer and closer with each passing second.

"You're... crazy!" Frank yells back, pressing upwards with all his might.

"Wally!" You pipe up as well. "Please... stop! For me... because..."

He laughs. He is doing this for you!

"...because I love you!"

Now this makes him pause, heart skipping a beat at the sound of your lovely voice telling him everything he's ever wanted to hear. He loves you too. So much.

Frank takes this opportunity to disarm him though, knife flying in the air and landing in a nearby patch of grass. Too far.

You love him. It's why he must do this.

Wally squares up his shoulders, hands clenching into fists as he throws a punch at Frank's face. Frank's head jerks back against the ground, banging off of it as Wally throws another and another.

Your anguished cry only makes him go harder, even after Frank is knocked unconscious, eyes rolling back in his head as blood drips from every orifice of his face.

For you.

He's only satisfied with his work when Frank's face is left as an unrecognizable lump of flesh and blood. He climbs off, wiping bloodied hands on his shirt. Home will be satisfied. Very satisfied. It seems he has much more work to do. Better to finish off the whole town, only then can the two of you be happy.

He walks over to where you lay. Hands on his hips, he tuts down at you. You've been very naughty.

"What am I to do with you?" He smiles, leaning down slightly to get a good look at you.

"Fuck off."

He laughs, but his eyes are dark as he grabs at your chin, forcing you to stare up at his face. "You might want to be careful what you say to me from now on."

He pulls you up, not caring how rough he is with you this time as he brings you back Home. Even when you stumble and fall, he continues to drag, hearing your cries of pain as your knees scrape on the ground as you try to get back up.

When you're inside, he tosses you on the ground.

He loves you. That's why you need to learn.

Your screams of agony ripple through Home, echoing the endless hallways. Wally's even sure that they can be heard down the street. Let all the other neighbors come investigate the noise, he doesn't care. All will be taken care of. You will be his. This pain may be temporary, but these lessons will last a lifetime.

Wally loves you.

[nevermindtheweights]

pentuplesized

Feeding her a planet of chocolate...~

To slurp down the chocolate oceans before chomping down the truffle-esque nature of the planet itself. The bounty of sweetness, the molten velvety texture of the rich chocolates of light and dark, sweetness and bitterness all in one....

Rendered onto her like a chocolate in a gift box~

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(Honmei)

“Hello, Rook. Remember the last time I sent you chocolates? I probably should have specified what intent—… no, I was too embarrassed,” she sighed, looking at the ground. “Before I regret it, here.” She haphazardly shoved a sleek white box with a tricoloured ribbon of blue, yellow, and red in front of Rook. Inside, were snowflake shaped dark chocolate covered wafers with a white chocolate drizzle.

“Happy Valentines. I like— *ahem* love you. I don’t know if Valentines Day in Twisted Wonderland is the same as Earth, but I included my confession this time to be safe.”

There were two Valentine interactions for Rook back in 2021; one was romantic and the other was platonic. I’m not sure if you’re referring to the second one? Or was it an interaction I didn’t respond to...? ... Maybe you’re just setting up the scene and I’m overthinking what you mean by “the last time I sent you chocolates” 🤡 ndvdjwbsk Regardless, I had to improvise a bit since I wasn’t sure about that part of the prompt!

In the west, Valentine's Day is mainly marketed as a time for romance on both ends, but this blog event is based on the Japanese interpretation of the holiday; in Japan, men receive gifts indicating various feelings, not always romantic, on Feb 14th, and can return the favor to women on March 14th/White Day. Actually, Christmas is considered the more romantic (and most!) holiday in Japan!

Sweet on You.

"How could I ever forget? There is never a moment when you are far from my mind.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was like music to your ears, and as resonant as a gale cutting through a spring meadow.

“I believe you had sent a parcel of assorted truffles last Valentine’s—by carrier dove, so as to catch me on an excursion! Dark, milk, white, and even the elusive pink blush of ruby chocolate... I was grateful to receive such a kind token of your companionship.”

As usual, Rook smiled as he spoke, happily reminiscing. Each detail of the memory was laid out like a gemstone in a well-maintained collection. He was careful to not overstep, to assume and blurt out the intent behind the gift.

After all, he wanted you to come to him of your own accord.

Haloed by hair that shone like threads of spun gold, he may have been considered angelic if not for the shadow that the wide brim of his hat casted upon him. Honied words fell so naturally from his lips—you often had to remind yourself that these were the traps he laid to trip you up. And in the end, you had been ensnared in a net of his love, fallen prey to his wiles.

You could deny it no longer.

Steeling your courage, you shoved a beribboned box at him.

"Wafer cookies in a snowflake shape?" Rook raised his brows. "Fufu, you know my interests well. Such intricate, delicate morsels! They're too beautiful to eat--but I must, lest they crumble and decay with the passage of time. Another year, and you continue to spoil me with these chocolatey shows of affection."

You cleared your throat and clarified. Your insides rattled once you had ushered the truth out into the world, your limbs like jelly.

"Joyeuse Saint Valentin to you as well." Rook's smile widened, now so broad that his cheeks threatened to tear. "To confess one's truest feelings is an act of great strength and courage. Once it has been uttered, it cannot be taken back. For that, I commend your earnest! Does it not feel liberating to expel the butterflies that had been collecting in your stomach?"

Taking one of your hands in his, your fingers linked together, skin set on fire.

"Allow me to reciprocate those feelings: Je t'aime. Whether in Twisted Wonderland or in a world beyond, you will always be the one that holds my heart."

Rook's tender lips graced the back of your hand with a kiss. It was as soft as freshly fallen snow, but passionate like a long-burning flame--and as true as the blue that painted the sky overhead.

[kharrisdawndancer]

It was well past the holiday, but Khaeris never had much use for calendars when it came to celebrating. Giving would always be something she enjoyed, even if she had never had much use or attraction to the common sort of gift. Pyraelia and she had made those confetti eggs, so each basket had gotten at least a few of those. They were prettily dyed in bright saturated colors. There were cookies and candies she’d made--some ‘medicated’ and some not.  There were pretty ribbons woven into the reeds and then some personal touches to each of them. Pyraelia’s had candied fruit and a pair of fuzzy socks Khaeris folded to look like rabbit ears. The ‘grass’ was a green throw blanket and the basket itself was white and filled out with chocolate and tea tins. She’d put the skeins of yarn around the back half of the basket for a pop of color and filler. The little box held a blank puzzle and a set of gouache paints to decorate it with. Lastly a silly clay whistle in the shape of a songbird and glazed in a pretty pearlescent that caught the light--the kind of whistle you put water in and it made bird-like calls. Khaeris thought that Pyraelia would grin that infectious grin before blowing as loud as she could on it. Ahuatli’s basket had flavored lip balms nestled around teal and aqua colored confetti eggs. Khaeris grinned to picture her friend smashing one on her lover’s chest. Ahua’s laughter rang in Khaeris’s mind as she tucked in a gauzy silk scarf with tassels. There were Silvermoon truffles and some Kul Tiran treacle tucked next to an enchanted ‘buzzy ball’ -- originally sized and made for a Quel’Thalas lynx, Khaeris thought that a snow leopard would also enjoy it. Tied on as a ribbon was an anklet woven through with Quel'thalas seashells she’d picked up on the beach.

Pollux did indeed get ‘flowers’ made of tools. Sometimes you’d need some strong imaginoscopes to see the ‘flower’, but Khaeris had simply painted a tiny flowers,chicks, or rabbits on the tools she couldn’t arrange in a bouquet. She wasn’t sure what he’d do with yet another set of wrenches and ratchets and the like, but maybe he could find a use for them or give them to a student. There were metal nuts on the dark blue ribbon and thin stacks of washers wired together in patterns. It was much, much heavier than the other baskets. It was also much -louder- as she hefted it onto the kitchen table with a grunt. There were a few little vials of a well-known-to-them potion.

The other two baskets were on the bookcase by the door, ready to go out tomorrow in personal deliveries, but the heavy one sat in the center of the table. Khaeris herself perched on the edge of that table with her legs crossed and bunny ears on, bangles chiming as her legs swung lazily.

She was late, but it was the thought that counted, right?

When Pollux arrived home a few minutes later, she thought about throwing a confetti egg at him. She had one hidden in her hands behind her back, after all. There were at least two problems with that, though: Most importantly, you probably shouldn’t do that in surprise to someone with his past! But also, she would never hit him. She was a good throw, but he was faster and more dextrous. She could throw it NEAR him, but again, it could too easily be construed too similar to a grenade in the subconscious mind. No. She couldn’t throw it at him.

But when he looked up he saw her next to a ridiculous Noblegarden basket that couldn’t be for anyone but him. He smiled and she melted. The kiss was sweet and she almost felt bad smashing the egg on his head.

Almost. mentions: @pyraelia @darkspear-dancers @polluxhale

[wishing-stones]

Since valentines day is coming up!

Do you think the boys would do anything special for it?

And would each of the boys pull Ren away so they can have their time, or would they collectively celebrate it?

First, a little headcanon about monsters and Valentine's Day, generally:

Monsters on the whole have mixed reactions to Valentine's Day. The imagery of such intimate things as souls on display literally everywhere is kind of jarring, but when you take into account that humans have no concept of their souls being real things that can be manifested into something visible, the culture shock wears off a little.

But! It's a day to celebrate love, and monsters are nothing if not total saps for that sort of thing. It's part of what they're made of, after all!

...Some more with the acronym than others, like the boys.

Speaking of:

Killer is the most likely to go balls-to-the-wall. Giant teddy bears, an enormous bouquet of roses, boxes of chocolates, a card as tall as he is, the works. He's also likely to spend the day attached to you and thinks spending the entire day snuggled up and feeding you chocolates, or strawberries, or whatever else while you watch movies (or potentially Netflix and Chill) is the perfect way to spend the day.

Dust is likely to hang and chill and watch movies for most of the day. He gets a thoughtful gift, and just... devotes the entire day to hanging out and chilling with you. No obligations, no schedule to adhere to, just quality time.

Axe cooks up everything that you like. Favorite breakfast, lunch, dinner, and desert. He's also got snacks like chocolate-covered strawberries and homemade truffles. He's also content to sit down and cuddle and feed you things when he's not busy cooking.

Cross is a little more awkward about it since he and his emotions aren't so sympatico, but he tries. You get flowers and chocolate and the works, but he thinks a day out as opposed to a day in is better. You can spend time and make memories by going places and doing things that you both enjoy. He's definitely the type to think that a visit to the pier or a theme park for the day is perfect. End the day with fireworks, even! So he's a sap, sue him.

Baggs... well. He might be able to pry himself away from his work for you for a little bit. A classy, fancy dinner date with a thoughtful gift is right up his alley, I'd think. (This one's a little harder for me to answer because... let's face it, the man is married to his work.)

Nightmare pulls out all the stops. Breakfast in bed? Check. Perfectly scenic picnic lunch? Check. Romantic candlelit dinner? Check. Top it all off with fancy dress and a moonlit dance, and his prize black roses everywhere? The man seeps "dark royalty" as much as he does his own goop, and does nothing by halves.

As for Ren, the boys would just... make it a week-long thing. The squabble over who actually gets Valentine's Day proper is a pretty heated one, but Nightmare would insist upon it and no one's going to argue that much with him.

[j-patrice-chocolate-studio]

The Delight of Chocolate Gift Boxes

Chocolate gift boxes are more than just treats; they are thoughtful gifts that express love, gratitude, and celebration. Whether for a birthday, anniversary, or any special occasion, a beautifully curated box of chocolates can bring joy to the recipient. In this blog, we’ll explore the various aspects of chocolate gift boxes, including their history, types, occasions for gifting, and how to choose the perfect one.

A Brief History of Chocolate Gift Boxes

The tradition of gifting chocolate dates back centuries. The Mayans and Aztecs revered chocolate as a sacred drink, often using it in ceremonial contexts. As chocolate spread across Europe in the 17th century, it evolved into solid forms and sweet confections. The introduction of beautifully designed gift boxes in the 19th century transformed chocolate gifting into an art form. Today, chocolatiers create elegant packaging that adds to the allure of the chocolates inside, making them perfect for any occasion.

Types of Chocolate Gift Boxes

1. Assorted Chocolate Boxes

Assorted chocolate boxes contain a variety of chocolates, allowing recipients to sample different flavors and textures. These boxes often feature pralines, truffles, and chocolate-covered fruits or nuts. Assorted boxes are ideal for those who appreciate variety and love exploring new tastes.

2. Specialty Chocolate Boxes

Specialty chocolate boxes focus on a particular theme, such as gourmet chocolates, organic ingredients, or specific flavor profiles like dark chocolate or fruit-infused chocolates. These boxes cater to the preferences of the recipient, making them thoughtful gifts for chocolate lovers.

3. Vegan Chocolate Boxes

With the rise in popularity of plant-based diets, vegan chocolate boxes have become a staple. These boxes contain chocolates made without any animal products, offering delicious options for those who follow a vegan lifestyle. See the selection of vegan chocolate available, featuring unique flavors and artisanal creations.

4. Seasonal and Holiday Chocolate Boxes

Seasonal chocolate gift boxes are perfect for holidays like Valentine's Day, Easter, Christmas, and more. These boxes often include themed packaging and flavors, such as heart-shaped chocolates for Valentine’s Day or festive designs for Christmas. They are a great way to celebrate the season and spread joy.

Choosing the Perfect Chocolate Gift Box

Selecting the right chocolate gift box can enhance the gifting experience. Here are some factors to consider:

1. Know the Recipient's Preferences

Understanding the recipient's taste is crucial. Do they prefer dark, milk, or white chocolate? Are they open to trying new flavors or sticking to classics? Knowing their preferences will help you choose a box they'll love.

2. Consider Dietary Restrictions

In today’s health-conscious world, dietary restrictions play a significant role in gift-giving. If the recipient has allergies or follows a specific diet, look for chocolate gift boxes that accommodate their needs, such as gluten-free, nut-free, or vegan options.

3. Occasion and Presentation

The occasion often dictates the style of the chocolate box. A luxurious box may be suitable for a wedding or anniversary, while a fun and colorful box may be perfect for a birthday party. Pay attention to the presentation, as beautifully designed boxes can make a lasting impression.

4. Quality Matters

Investing in high-quality chocolates can elevate the gifting experience. Look for brands known for their craftsmanship, sourcing premium ingredients, and innovative flavors. A well-crafted chocolate will leave a lasting impression and be remembered long after the last piece is enjoyed.

Conclusion

Chocolate gift boxes are a timeless gift that brings joy and indulgence to any occasion. With various options available, including assorted, specialty, and vegan selections, there’s something for everyone. By considering the recipient’s preferences and dietary needs, you can select the perfect chocolate box that delights and surprises.

Whether you’re celebrating a special occasion or simply showing someone you care, a thoughtfully chosen chocolate gift box is sure to make a memorable impact. So, indulge in the world of chocolates and create sweet moments with your loved ones!

FAQs

1. What types of chocolates are commonly found in gift boxes?

Gift boxes often contain a mix of milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, truffles, pralines, and chocolate-covered nuts or fruits.

2. Are vegan chocolate options available?

Yes, many chocolatiers offer vegan chocolate gift boxes made without dairy or other animal products.

3. How should I store chocolate gift boxes?

Keep chocolate gift boxes in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight. Refrigeration is not usually recommended, as it can alter the texture and flavor.

4. Can I customize a chocolate gift box?

Many chocolatiers allow customization, enabling you to choose specific chocolates or themes based on the recipient’s preferences.

5. Are there chocolate gift boxes for specific occasions?

Yes, there are seasonal and themed chocolate gift boxes available for various occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and more.

Indulge in the art of gifting with chocolate gift boxes that resonate with taste and elegance!

[adamzack]

Chocolate and Desserts: Explore Sweet Treats for a Delightful Valentine's Day

As Valentine's Day approaches, the quest for the perfect gift that embodies sweetness and love intensifies. What better way to express affection than with the timeless combination of chocolates and desserts? Join us on a delectable journey as we explore different types of chocolates and desserts that make for delightful Valentine's Day gifts.

The Art of Chocolate: A Symphony of Flavors

Delving into the world of chocolates is like entering a realm of pure bliss. From silky milk chocolate to intense dark varieties, each bite is a celebration of flavor. Consider gifting a box of assorted chocolates, featuring a symphony of tastes and textures. Whether your special someone favors truffles, pralines, or caramel-filled delights, the world of chocolate has something to tantalize every palate.

Dark Chocolate: A Love Affair with Intensity

For those who appreciate the depth and complexity of flavors, dark chocolate is a sophisticated choice. Its rich cocoa content offers a bittersweet experience, awakening the taste buds with notes of fruit, spices, and sometimes even a hint of floral undertones. Crafted with precision, a box of high-quality dark chocolates speaks volumes about your commitment to indulgence.

Milk Chocolate: A Sweet Embrace of Nostalgia

For a more nostalgic and comforting experience, choose the timeless appeal of milk chocolate. Its creamy texture and sweet notes evoke cherished memories of childhood delights. Consider a heart-shaped assortment to symbolize the warmth and tenderness of your affection.

White Chocolate: A Symphony of Creaminess

While not technically chocolate due to the absence of cocoa solids, white chocolate holds its own in the realm of sweet treats. Its smooth, velvety texture and buttery taste make it a unique and delightful option. Complement your gift with berries or nuts for a harmonious blend of flavors.

Desserts: Sweet Endings to a Perfect Day

Beyond the world of chocolates, desserts add an extra layer of sweetness to Valentine's Day celebrations. From classic cakes to elegant pastries, there's a dessert to suit every taste.

Decadent Cakes: A Slice of Heaven

Indulge your loved one with a decadent cake that reflects their favorite flavors. Whether it's a rich chocolate cake, a luscious red velvet creation, or a classic cheesecake, a personalized dessert adds a touch of thoughtfulness to your gift.

Exquisite Pastries: A Delicate Affair

For a lighter option, consider an assortment of pastries that showcase the artistry of delicate flavors and textures. From flaky croissants to airy éclairs, each bite is a miniature masterpiece that will leave your sweetheart swooning.

Handcrafted Confections: A Personal Touch

If you want to add a personal touch to your Valentine's Day gift, consider handcrafted confections. Whether it's homemade truffles, cookies, or fudge, the effort you put into creating a sweet surprise will undoubtedly be appreciated.

Conclusion:

In the world of chocolates and desserts, there's a treasure trove of options waiting to be discovered. This Valentine's Day, express your love through the artful combination of sweet treats that will not only tantalize the taste buds but also warm the heart. From the rich embrace of dark chocolate to the nostalgic sweetness of milk chocolate, and the intricate allure of desserts, your thoughtful gift will undoubtedly make this Valentine's Day an unforgettable celebration of love and indulgence.