#and this way I’m not wasting the ingredients or overeating them myself

[afternoonteawithme]

[steddieas-shegoes]

“You have to keep stirring until it’s thin, like soup.”

Steve had said this four times.

Eddie wanted a divorce.

They weren’t legally married, but he’d like to find a way to end it before it began.

“I’ve been stirring it for six minutes. It’s not getting thinner.”

“That’s impossible. Let me try.”

Steve was the chef. Eddie knew it, Steve knew it, everyone knew it. He was good at cooking. Not just following recipes, but actually throwing together ingredients from scratch and making something not only edible, but delicious.

But Steve was going away for a week with Robin. Something about a long overdue road trip that they were supposed to take before she went to college.

Eddie had every intention of just living off of takeout and the sympathy of Joyce and Claudia while he was gone, but Steve insisted that he had to know how to at least make a few things.

Steve seemed to think he could make a glaze for the baked chicken currently in the oven. The same baked chicken he’d almost burned because he thought he could put it in on broil instead of baked. He was really THAT hopeless.

But Steve was determined and when Steve was like this, he had no choice but to go along with it.

Steve was stirring, frown becoming more prominent the longer he tried.

“Something isn’t right. Did you put the lemon juice in?”

“You watched me put it in.”

“And the jelly was completely cooked down before you turned down the heat?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Steve.” Eddie placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders from behind him, shaking him slightly. “I can just eat pizza. Or sandwiches. Cereal. Joyce is having me over for spaghetti one night, I’m sure there will be leftovers. I won’t starve.”

“But you need to know how to take care of yourself!”

Warning sirens were going off in Eddie’s head. He’d been alone for a couple of days before and everything was fine. He’d made some macaroni, ate his weight in toast, it was great. He survived.

He even ate an apple!

So he could do it if he had to.

“What’s going on in that head, big boy?”

“Nothing. It’s just that Wayne didn’t have time to show you this stuff and you need to know.”

“I can make it a week, Stevie.”

“What if you have to make it longer?”

“Are you planning on running away? Going into hiding?”

He could tell Steve was rolling his eyes without even seeing his face.

“No. But what if I’m not always around?”

Eddie’s gut clenched. Steve must be sick. Or maybe he has a feeling that somehow the Upside Down is open and ready to ruin their lives again.

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I mean anything can happen. What if we get in an accident and I don’t make it?”

“Woah.” Eddie turned Steve around and held onto his hips, fingers probably leaving bruises on his skin. “Where is this coming from?”

Steve shrugged and looked down at the floor.

“Robin has anxiety about it doesn’t she?”

Steve nodded.

Ah.

Robin didn’t intentionally shove her anxieties onto Steve, and she didn’t realize he felt them so strongly when she did. She was a worrier, always thinking about the worst case scenario and then somehow making it worse in her mind.

Eddie didn’t really let it bother him until it affected Steve.

“Sweetheart, nothings gonna happen. You’ve changed the oil and checked the tires. You’ve packed every possible thing you could need in any emergency. You have a cup of change for pay phones if you need to use them. You’ve got every stop picked out and we’ll know where you are the whole time.”

“But none of that helps if I’m in an accident.”

“No. You’re right. It doesn’t. But what are the odds of that happening really?”

Steve was silent.

Eddie cupped his face between his palms, leaning forward to kiss him gently.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Stevie. But you don’t have to worry about that. I can take care of myself without having to know how to make a glaze for a baked chicken. Do you really think I’m gonna waste an hour of my evening making this decadent dinner for myself? Or do you think I’ll make a sandwich and eat a bag of chips while I read a book?”

“I know.”

“I know you know. So let’s just trash the glaze, dip the chicken in some ketchup, and fuck around until we fall asleep. I’m gonna miss you for a whole week.”

Eddie’s hands slid around him to cup Steve’s ass and give it a squeeze. Steve smirked up at him as he let himself fall into Eddie.

“We could just go right to dessert?”

“Are you the dessert or am I?”

“I’m the cake and you’re the ice cream.”

“We better hurry then before the ice cream melts.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughed as Eddie pulled him from the kitchen to the stairs.

“I’m hungry, let’s go!”

[wri0thesley]

disciplinarian - prosciutto x reader (3k)

you have made a mess of things - and prosciutto is not going to let that pass without punishment.

cw: yandere prosciutto. dubious-consent/non-consent (reader is well on the way to stockholm syndrome if not already there). afab reader referred to as 'spouse', no other gendered terms used. captive reader. spanking, exhibitionism, allusions to prosciutto using his stand on reader in the past. use of pet names, use of 'slut'. minors dni, not sfw.

[a/n: a fic in which a random number generator was allowed to choose some of my favourite kinks and characters for a little birthday event i did for myself! this one threw up 'prosciutto', 'impact play' and 'yandere!' it's been a while since i published jojo but oh, i could never forget about my love for One Old Man Mafioso!]

It’s your own fault. 

You stare at the ruined dinner and feel your breath start to come in short little pants; a tell-tale sign that you’re about to panic. About to start crying. You should have checked on it more often! You should have double-checked all of the temperatures, stayed in the kitchen instead of going into Prosciutto’s study to read and imagine you were somewhere else--

The front door swings open. Prosciutto’s voice, warmth seeping from every syllable, calls out into the hallway; 

“Tesoro? I’m home.”

That warmth will quickly dissipate when he sees what you’ve done. Even now, as he calls out your name once more, you can hear a mounting frustration; Prosciutto likes you to be ready to rush up to him when he comes home from work, peppering his cheek with kisses and chirping questions about his day, every inch the adoring little house spouse that he has mercilessly drilled you into becoming. You ought to be fussing over his jacket, stroking his cheek and telling him you missed him with heat in your cheeks - offering to fetch his slippers and a whisky for him to unwind with . . .

Instead, you are in the kitchen in front of ruined dinner, your apron a mess and tears rolling down your face as you face the facts; Prosciutto is not going to be happy with you. 

“There you are.” The mafioso’s voice has a sharp edge to it as a shadow falls across the doorway. You start guiltily, trying to hide the tray of burnt food from his ice blue gaze, but there’s no real escape from a man like Prosciutto. You know he’s seen it the moment that his elegant lip curls and his eyes flicker back to you. “ . . . Really. Is this how you greet your husband, amore mio?”

You want to bite back at him that he is no husband of yours - that it is hardly husbandly of him to have snatched you from your life and installed you into his like you are an asset to be owned and bossed about, a caricature of what a traditional man would expect from a spouse. It is hardly husbandly of him to have taught you to cook and clean and serve him by belt and by threat and by the strange power that he possesses that you hope never to experience again--

(You can still remember it, at night, when Prosciutto is still on a mission and you are alone - how it had felt to have your bones age and crack all rapidly at once, your skin sag from your frame, your heart to suddenly have years and years of use and wear piled upon it in what felt like moments. You never want to feel it again. You’d promised him, afterwards, tears still drying on your face, that you would be good from then on in.)

“I’m sorry,” your words all come out in a rush. “I-I didn’t mean to, Prosciutto. Amore. I--I just got distracted, it burnt, I’ll cook it all again--”

His expensive shoes (gotten for a bargain, or so he claimed, though you know that half of the boutiques in the city cower when he steps into them and rush to offer him staff discounts and anything he desires) squeak on the tiled kitchen floor as he steps closer to you. You force yourself to breathe. 

“And waste another day’s worth of ingredients?” He asks you, calmly. “Do you think I am made of money, amore mio?” The pet names are a deliberate choice - they serve only to make you even more frightened. He casts his eye over the spread again. “It’s good for nothing but the trash now. Tell me--” And then your chin is being grasped by hands that have murdered and killed and God knows what else. “What did my pretty little tesoro have to occupy their mind that was more important than being good and taking care of their husband, hmm?”

Your voice cracks.

“I-I’m sorry--”

“Not good enough,” he says, his voice still calm. Prosciutto is cool and calculated in all he does; he does not shout and rage at you. His quiet seething, his way of keeping his handsome face a visage of serenity even when he is doing depraved things, is far more frightening than anything else. “Come. Leave the food for later. I think you need a reminder of your place.”

Your breath catches. You know what he means by this, and as if your body is already protesting the coming punishment, you feel last week’s almost-healed bruises on your buttocks sting. And, too - because Prosciutto has trained you to be that way - you feel a heat low in your abdomen, a clenching of the part of you between your thighs that Prosciutto equally adores to torment. 

Prosciutto senses your hesitation and clicks his tongue at you, motioning towards the upstairs of the little home you two share (some holdover from his family connections, though it is not quite as well-maintained as it ought to be). 

“I’ll give you five more strikes for every moment you dawdle,” he says, and he gives you a smile not without a hint of his teeth. When you had first met Prosciutto, you had thought his overbite and the gap between his teeth handsome - now, you wonder if they are on display so often if only to warn you that this is a man who will bite if he is threatened.

You pass by him - and on cue, one of Prosciutto’s hands comes down and squeezes your ass as you walk, his hands strong, fingers digging hard into the plush of your rear. You whimper, and Prosciutto lets out a hiss of pleased breath through his teeth. 

“So soft,” he murmurs to you, slapping you on the rear now as if he is urging you to move faster. “Mm . . . as much of a shame as it is to punish you, tesoro, you’re such a very lovely canvas for the discipline.”

Despite your will, the compliment makes your insides clench once more. Heat gathering between your thighs in hot little shocks - there’s something about the clipped way that Prosciutto speaks that makes you want to get on your knees and do exactly as he says, even if you do hate him. Even if you do wish you were somebody else, somewhere else, away from here. 

(Hate is a difficult thing; you hate Prosciutto. You hate what he has done to you. But his fingers are clever and his mouth is tender and the frissons of danger being his give you are more of a lure than you’d like to admit. Even if you could escape, sometimes you fear that you are so thoroughly under his spell that you would miss him). 

He chuckles as if he can tell what you are thinking - his hands rest upon your hips as you walk, guiding you upstairs, the movement at once gentlemanly and possessive. Those are two things that the mafioso excels in. 

Prosciutto’s bedroom. 

He leaves you standing in the middle of the floor as he slowly, leisurely, crosses the room to sit upon the bed. You stand there for him, tension brewing, even as Prosciutto lets out a slow sigh and removes his ascot with elegant fingers. As he unbuttons his jacket and shrugs it off shoulders, showing the sculpted muscles of his scarred chest. You barely stop yourself from trembling. 

When the jacket is shed, he rests back upon the heels of his hands and looks at you with that handsome, disaffected air - mouth parted, eyes half-lidded. His command is simple. 

“Strip, and then come here and bend over.” 

Prosciutto likes you to look the part of his little spouse. You wear clothes that are well-made and prim and a little old-fashioned, with fiddly little buttons and awkward zippers that you sometimes need his help to get into in a morning. He offers you no such help now, as your fingers slip on the buttons and you miss the catch of the zipper three times from your clammy palms. He breathes out through his nose in a flare of irritation, and you make a squeal of apology as you finally manage to shed the last layer of your clothes and you stand before him in nothing but your underwear, white satin patterned with deep red roses that Prosciutto had picked out for you. He looks at you in satisfaction, noting the damp patch at your gusset.

“My underwear too, amore?” He likes it when you use pet names for him - when you call him ‘my love’ or ‘my soul’ or ‘husband’. He likes ‘Signore’, too, but he prefers that when the two of you are playing one of his favoured little roleplay games. Right now, he is a husband disciplining a wayward spouse, and he wouldn’t react well to it. You hope the little term of endearment softens him. 

“Just the top,” he decides, and you obediently reach behind yourself and unclip it with only a little difficulty. You feel your cheeks heat as Prosciutto looks at how your chest is released from the satiny cups, but manage to keep your composure. “Ah. How lucky I am to have such a pretty spouse, hmm?” He reaches forward, pinching one of your nipples roughly. A soft noise of surprise falls from your lips as he continues to pinch, twisting it just enough for it to edge the line between pleasure and pain, forcing the bud to pucker and stiffen beneath his ministrations. He repeats the process with the other, making you press your thighs unconsciously together. “Maybe I should use a cane on these, one of these days.”

“N-no, please,” you breathe out, but you’re already losing track of the thought of anything but Prosciutto’s fingers upon you. He chuckles, tugging at your nipples again. 

“Maybe some pretty jewelry, then?” He suggests. “One of my associates is very skilled with metals--”

You whine as he pinches just a touch too hard, and, satisfied, he lets go of the sensitive buds - stiff and already aching from a mixture of fear and arousal and the pressure he had exerted. 

“Very well,” he says in amusement. “Come bend over my lap and let me give you your punishment.”

You have no other choice, really - you arrange yourself exactly the way you know Prosciutto likes you, bent over his lap, your ass in the air. Your sore nipples uncomfortably rub against his slacks and the bedspread, and you know that they will chafe between both as you move with every hit of his hand or his belt or the hairbrush, chest swaying with the pressure--

His hand rests lightly on the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve been well-behaved other than today,” he muses aloud, rubbing warm circles onto the heated skin. The touch of his calloused palms on your soft ass sends more little electric shocks to that place between your thighs, satin sticking to the folds of your cunt. “Just my hand, hmm?” 

“Thank you, amore,” you say, automatically. For his mercy. He chuckles, rubs his thumb over the seam of your ass through the underwear and stops just before your sex. 

“No more than you deserve,” he says. “You’ll count, yes?” 

You nod, and Prosciutto seems satisfied enough with that. You hear the sound of his hand pulling back - the displacement of air as it whooshes back towards your ass, and then the calloused meat of his palm collides with your bare flesh. You cry out in surprise at the feeling, despite knowing it was coming. 

“One!” You say. “Th-thank you!”

He pauses, hand still upon your ass. Heat radiates from the spot he has just touched, like waves lapping upon a shore. 

“Thank you, what?” He asks, his voice dangerous - and you know it is a test. You take a great shuddering breath. 

“Thank you, carissimo--?”

You hope you have made the right choice - that the pet name will soften him and soothe him and remind him that he is your husband and you adore him (or, at least, you do because you know what is good for you). The question hangs in the air for a moment that feels like it lasts for an eternity, before Prosciutto lets out a grunt of pleasure. 

“You’re welcome. Don’t forget next time.”

So you don’t. 

You do not forget to count or to thank Prosciutto or to call him all of the sweet things you can think of; thank you carissimo, thank you caro, thank you amore, thank you mio re, mio amato--

And Prosciutto’s blows do not stop coming, each one slower and more lingering than the last. Palm slapping against your rear and thighs until you are all over sore, fingers digging into tenderised flesh, Prosciutto’s hand taking delight in the way you whimper and whine and your voice goes high and reedy as you reach seventeen, eighteen, nineteen . . .

At twenty, he leaves his hand upon your ass for a beat longer. Luxuriously and slowly slides it down, further than he had before - and laughs a little meanly as his fingers dip between your thighs, feeling just how wet your underwear is. 

“Oh, amore,” He breathes, in that damnably low and seductive voice. “You like being punished, don’t you?”

There is no real argument to what he’s saying. With every hit of his hand, you had felt those sparks and shocks that had resonated all through your body and landed squarely in your cunt, between your legs. With every number that had fallen from your mouth, you had felt yourself pump out more slick, until the satin was utterly saturated and it was a wonder you were not dripping all over the floor. 

“You’ve made a mess,” Prosciutto breathes against your ear. “Mm . . . I’m going to have to replace this nice lingerie. Do you know how much it cost?” 

“. . . I . . .’m sorry--”

“Oh,” another chuckle. “Don’t be. It’s nice to know what a little slut my pretty spouse is.”

“I’m not. . .”

“Ah. So you’re not desperate for me to do this?” He slowly, deliberately, presses his fingers against the seam of your sex, rubbing it through the satin. Against your will, a whine falls from your mouth - the pressure is perfect, his fingers so good against your heated core. “You’re not moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Prosciutto . . .”

“You’re a very lucky little slut, at least.” Prosciutto’s fingers begin to rhythmically slide backwards and forwards, over your cunt - you whimper as he finds your clit, rubbing the satin against the swollen little nub in a way that makes you squirm and hot tears spring to your eyes. “I don’t mind that you’ve gotten off to me punishing you. In fact . . .”

He doesn’t bother to go beneath the fabric - just finds your clit, swollen and stiff through satin as thin as spider silk, and begins a rough, mean assault on it that has you gasping and panting. 

“I’ll even help you along.”

It’s too much. It’s all too much. The position - blood rushing to your head. The way that your ass aches and stings from his discipline, the way he’s practically trained you to get turned on by being hurt, the confusion that you feel about all of this . . . Sometimes you want nothing more than to be the thoughtless little whore of a spouse he wants you to be. Things would be so much easier, wouldn’t they? 

Your breath comes in short sharp pants as Prosciutto increases his speed, roughly circling your clit. You squirm hotly as the pressure follows suit. All of the feelings inside of you - the confusion and the heat and the arousal and the hate and everything else - all tangle together in your mind like old embroidery threads, a mess impossible to unravel--

Until they do. The threads are all suddenly pulled apart in different directions, and your insides explode in an orgasm that is partly pleasure and partly pain. Prosciutto’s fingers do not slow, hot hard circles that guide you over yet more hills and more peaks. You don’t know if it’s good or if it’s overwhelming, all of the sensations creeping up on you at once like ivy overtaking an old house. You sob out a dry, whimpering noise that makes Prosciutto sigh. 

He slows his fingers as the last ebbs and flows of your peak flow from your thighs to your feet to your fingertips and out of your body and lets you lay there limply upon him, breathing hard.

You are suddenly aware of every part of your body. 

Your underwear clings wetly and uncomfortably to your folds, the gusset utterly soaked from the painful orgasm that Prosciutto had wrung from you. Tear tracks are drying on your face, your ass aching from every spank of Prosciutto’s hand. Your nipples ache from how they had rubbed against the fabric of Prosciutto’s slacks with every body-shaking hit you had taken. 

“There,” Prosciutto says, pushing you off of him so you land in an ungainly sniffling heap on the floor. Beads of your arousal and release are streaming down your inner thighs. He acts as though what he’s done has had no effect upon him, though the stiff tent of his erection tells a different story. You will get that particular part of your punishment later, caged underneath the unending snap of his hips and snarl of his voice about what a good little thing you are, taking your husband’s cock like you were made to do. “Now. I think it’s dinner time, don’t you?”

You sniffle again and look up at him with beseeching eyes. 

“I-- I burnt dinner--”

“Well,” he says. “I suppose you’ll have to make it all again, won’t you?”

It’s almost a pardon. You nod frantically at him, and go to reach for your abandoned brassiere, your other clothes - only for Prosciutto to stand up and bring one well-heeled foot right down upon the pile of fabric.

“I don’t think you deserve those, tesoro. Do you?” 

“B-but . . . the window--”

He looks down at you with a glint in those deep blue eyes, a devilish smirk playing about his lips. 

“You should have thought about that before you made such a mess of things.” His eyes slide over your figure - your bare chest, your rapidly bruising thighs and ass, the thin and soaked excuse for underwear you’re currently wearing - and he sighs in satisfaction. “Don’t you dare close the curtains, amore mio. Maybe this will be another lesson for you.”

[diacripticcomplex]

Kou x yui 🫶🏻

Kou’s POV:

Man! I was so fucking tired, its been a really long day but in a good way, I got a lot of work done and still managed to go to school, witnessed my fan girls beat up and bully Maso-kitty, it was such a great day. I’m kind of hungry, I don’t think Ruki made anything tonight, ugh this sucks. I pass by the kitchen, and peer inside. She was in there making something that smells absolutely delightful, no better than Ruki though of course~!

“Hey Maso-Kitty, watchu making?” I ask her, literally going right behind her and hugging her, pressing myself as close as possible to her. “Ah Kou, you startled me…I’m making some pasta..” she says, she looked really focused on this. I noticed it smelled like Vongole sauce. “Are you making vongole Bianco ?” I asked her, she nods, this is honestly great! “That’s literally my favorite type of pasta dish, make me some too” I demand from her. “Oh..I’m almost done though..and I only made a portion for myself..” she reveals. My whole entire mood just drops. “So what? Its not like you bought any of these ingredients..stop being a stingy bitch and make me some.” I bluntly tell her, her eyebrows are frowning, she’s doing her usual sad face, that look annoys me more than anything. “I’ll make it for you after I eat..is that okay?” She says to me, but like I know that she wants to just eat it and let me starve. I begin to laugh “yes you can do that, but hurry up and eat im STARVING…you know what Maso-Kitty maybe I should help you out a little?” I tell her, my eyes gleaming at her, she begins to back away from me, with her plate. I corner her in the middle of the kitchen counter.

I snatch her plate and take a handful of the hot pasta and shove it deep into her mouth, she begins to choke on it. Hmm I like how she gagged on it. She pushes me away from her and spits out the food, coughing like crazy. I couldn’t help but laugh at how she looked, all pathetic. “No no, don’t waste the food, eat it off the floor.” I tell her, she looks up at me horrified, that wasn’t that bad of a request I have no idea why she is giving me that face..as if she wants mercy, I’m not giving her none today, she ruined my day! I grab her by her locks and push her head down to the food she spat out. “Eat it” I demand, I dug my nails into her scalp at this point. “No! Let go of me…whats wrong with you??” She had the nerve to ask me that. I see how it is, she wants to play stupid, I’ll make her regret that.

I lift her up by her hair, then push her into the marble kitchen island. She tried running away but I locked her wrists in my hands, shoving my knee in between her legs. I lean down, and bite her neck, that first bite of her blood..its so filling and slakes my every thirst, what the fuck is this? Vampire crack? Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. She was going to satisfy my appetite one way or another. “Kou..Please stop, I feel like I’m going to pass out. “ she says, and then she really does pass out. I let her fall to the floor next to that mess she spat out.

An hour goes by and I hear a knock on my door, it was her. She handed me a plate of pasta. The nerve of this girl..I was still mad at her so I dumped it all over her, I pulled her into my room and slammed the door shut, pinning her up against it. “You know what, maybe I’ll just eat off you..” I say, and began licking the sauce off her cheeks and slurping a pasta strand, some of it was going down her shirt and shorts so I decided to tear her clothes off of her. The sauce dripped down to her nipples and her pelvis, I licking her nipples and nibbled on them slightly, making sure to take all the sauce, then I licked down her naval to her pelvis, she jolted and gasped at this. “I’m just eating, what’s with these reactions~?” I say to her, I lift up her legs and pry them open, there wasn’t any food that went down there but I was interested in giving her some nice top tier head. I kissed her pretty pussy, and started to ravage it the fuck up, “Kou..No there’s no food there why are you..you doing this?” She could barely speak, I ignored her and continued to do as I pleased.

Her blood always tasted amazing, but her pussy was beyond me. She tasted so sweet like fruits, I remember when I was a human and tried some fruits for the first time, thats exactly what she tastes like, I could lick and slurp her all day, the juices were flowing and I was enjoying every drop that landed on my tongue. I looked up at her and noticed her clenching her lips trying not to moan. So I start fingering her, the oozing juices flowed out of her, I think I got aroused by that since I felt myself stiffen down there, I slip off my pants and pull my drawers down, sticking my meat inside of her, I gripped her hips, and swayed into her, thrusting passionately. I bring her leg up to my face and lick it, there was some sauce on it, and then i kissed her feet and started to suck on her toes as I kept fucking her, she was panting and breathing loudly but not moaning like crazy, still trying to clench her lips, I started to go faster and harder and that caused her to scream out, I changed the positions and we were in a spooning position while standing, it was definitely going to make me cum soon, I could tell she was already creaming on my dick. I could feel myself ready to burst, I pull out and nut all over her back and butt, then I slap her butt and kiss her nape. Now thats a great way to eat pasta.

[sea-moon-star]

To You || YJH

Pairing: Boyf! Jeonghan x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst (barely), slice of life

WC: 1k

Summary: What does Jeonghan have up his sleeves for your date night? Him taking care of you after a long day at work by cooking Korean comfort food for you (Mayhaps pranking you!)

A/N: Thanks to Elle's Mama I made it video for being the inspiration for chef & domestic Hannie! This is as self indulgent as I could ever be. 🌊🌙⭐️

-----------------------

Y/N's POV

I had to pinch myself when I entered the house after a particularly long day of work, to the aroma of food coming all the way to the front door. Jeonghan was so busy focusing on the simmering tteokboki & ramen on the stove while he prepped for the gimbap ingredients that he didn’t even notice that I’d come home. I went upstairs and freshened up, only to come down and see him in the same position as I’d left him, with his brows furrowed in concentration as he prepared his gimbap. Earlier, he’d been chopping the veggies but now he was rolling them up carefully, as if he was on Masterchef about to impress Gordon Ramsey himself.

I chuckled to myself as I decided to lay out the table in the meanwhile, not wanting to shift his focus from the task. I put a bunch of roses inside the vase that lay in the centre of our dining table, it was our little ritual where I got him a new bouquet of roses because it was his favorite flower and it reminded us of an inside joke we had while drunk watching the bachelorette, he’s said that if he ever starred in the show, he’d win all the roses and break the competition because no man would ever stand a chance against him. Usually I wasn’t one to further boost his ego but drunk me had all but agreed wholeheartedly and since then, I’d always given him roses on date nights like this one.

As I opened the cabinet to remove a favorite bottle of red, one that he loved along with two wine glasses, I couldn’t help but get a bit distracted myself. It’s not like this was new but everytime I saw him, I couldn’t quite believe that the Angel of SVT, the man who stole the heart of Carats worldwide, Yoon Jeonghan was just standing there in our shared kitchen, making me dinner for our date night. He looked gorgeous, even as a sheen of sweat covered his forehead, a stray lock from his messy bun covered his face & he struggled to pull up his sweater sleeves to keep them from getting dirty as he cooked. I couldn’t believe this man in a bunny apron, still managed to look that sexy & that he was not a figment of my imagination but he was real, he was mine… it felt incredulous.

In my bid to not look away from him, even for a second, I failed to see that I hadn’t closed the overhead cabinet & bumped right into it. Despite the initial shock & the tiny exclamation of pain that left my lips, I felt shaked but relieved, knowing that the bottle of wine & glasses were unscatched. I had managed to hold onto them before they toppled over so there was no damage done. In the flash moment that I managed to keep the glasses & wine on the table, while steadying myself, he was there in front of me, as one hand reached above my tiny 5 foot frame to close the cabinet doors, the other hovered protectively over my head, keeping me from getting hurt again.

“Are you okay? When did you come? Why didn’t you tell me you were home?” He said, his voice laced with worry while looking me all over for any bruises. “I’m okay, it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry, I saved the alcohol, not a drop wasted!” I said, & chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Eyyy, that’s not what I’m concerned about, you know that! Look at that, you’ve grazed your head! Stay still, let me fix that, jagi." I blushed in a way that might’ve outdone the red on the table, as he traced the cut on my forehead gently with his cold fingers & despite my million protests, proceeded to put a cute animal band-aid on it.

He always kept a band-aid in his wallet, not even the first aid box, it was one of the first things I’d noticed when I’d met him. For all his aloof, savage & mischievous behavior, he was the first to come to anyone’s rescue if they were hurt, like the time Soonyoung had scratched his nose with their SVT ring & Hannie had been the one to give him the band-aid. I ended up smiling, thinking of that kind gesture as he glared at me in anger, “Yah! Where is your attention? This is no joke. What on earth has you this zoned out!? “I’m sorry, it’s not my fault that I have a visual like you as my boyfriend, it’s only human for me to get carried away.” I answered sheepishly. He tried to keep his poker face intact but I knew him too well to see the corner of his lips were turning upwards, that he was fighting the urge to smirk. “What am I going to do with you? Bubbleproof you? Sigh! The food’s getting cold, just sit down & no, I don't need your help, don't even say it. Just stay here & don’t touch anything, don’t move, don’t breathe- I’ll be back.” He said & I could swear I heard a small laugh as he went to the kitchen to bring the dishes.

I played, our song- “To you by SVT” in the background, to set the mood for our date as he gave me a plateful of food & gestured at me to begin eating. He wanted me to take the first bite & tell him how it tasted so I abided. I eagerly reached out for the gimbap, my favorite item. But when I bit into it, I tasted a mouthful of carrots, Han & I both hated carrots so it was quite the sight to see as I forcefully tried to stuff down the gimbap while he laughed his ass off. “How dare you!? Jeonghan!!” I screamed as I gulped some wine to wash down the taste. “You’re one to talk, you’re the one who gave me a heart attack a while earlier, this is just an equalizer.”

I pouted, accepting my defeat, knowing this was just his way of showing his care & affection. I’d signed up for this, not just the visuals or the kindness, but the pranks too, I loved him for all of it. “You win, Hannie-1, Y/N-0. Happy?” I replied, a smile on my face because I’d eat as many of these carrot filled gimbaps if it put a grin on the face of the man I loved the most.

THE END. 🌊🌙⭐️

[giggly-squiggily]

Howling With Mirth (Cafe Enchante)

I finally did it! Many days after I mentally decided to write it, I bring you Ignis! :D The fiery wolf boy- he deserves the world! (And tickles lols) I hope you like it! :D

Summary: Ignis is feeling a bit down after a disaster in the kitchen, so Kotone decides to fix it the best way she can.

“Ignis..”

Oh dear. He knew that tone. Slowly, Ignis turned towards the cafe’s kitchen, poking his head through the door to find his girlfriend before the fridge. When she caught his gaze, she held up a carton of eggs, empty sans a half shell stuck in one of the slots.

She raised an eyebrow wordlessly. He felt his face burn some. “Erm…it wasn’t me?”

“Ignis.”

“Okay fine!” He confessed, coming by to stand with her. “But I only used one carton!” Then he saw she was holding three cartons, all empty. “Erm…okay, I lost count. Omurice is hard to make! It wouldn’t do the thing- I kept making scrambled eggs!”

“And dropping them.” Misyr added, leaning against the doorway with an amused grin.

“Shut up! You could have helped!” Ignis growled, guilt settling in his gut as he watched Kotone sigh, shaking her head.

“What did you do with all the eggs? I hope you didn’t throw them out.”

“Hell nah, that’d be wasteful! I fed them to Kororo. Not all of them!” He quickly added to her wide eyed expression. “I fed everyone, myself included. They- erm, they might be sick of eggs.”

“Sick would be an understatement.” Misyr groaned, a little green. Ignis was a good cook, but one could only eat so many dishes of scrambled eggs and rice before he felt sick. “I don’t suppose Kariya’s coming in later- Ignis chased him down and forced him to eat at least two plates.”

“He’s a growing boy! He needs the protein!” Ignis argued, earning a small giggle from his girlfriend.

“You were tired of eggs too, huh?” She asked, grinning when he looked away. “It’s fine, but we do need to restock. You guys might be sick of eggs, but somebody’s gonna walk in craving them.” She reached out, gently taking Ignis’ hand in hers with a gentle smile. “Come on, shall we go?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded, only letting his grin falter when he was sure she was looking away.

~~~

Kotone knew something was up. This was Ignis, afterall. Even without being his girlfriend, she had a good read on him and his emotions.

Shopping was lovely. Ever the devoted boyfriend, he made it a point to carry all the bags as they paid for their restock. On their way back, he walked on the side towards the street, one hand clutching their regained ingredients while the other held her hand. It was warm and calloused against her small soft ones, but she loved that about him. She loved everything about him.

What she didn’t love was this seemingly stubborn cloud hanging overhead, even after they stopped so she could buy meat for dinner. “I’m gonna grill you something really tasty!” She smiled at him as they paid, but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. Did he really feel that bad over the eggs?

“Here we are.” She let out a happy sigh as she placed the bags on the counter, quickly putting everything away with a satisfied nod. “Take a seat, I’ll make you something to drink.” She nodded to the counter, insisting when Ignis asked to help. “You’ve helped so much today! You deserve a nice reward.”

Here she was now, daring a few peeks at her boyfriend as she made him his preferred tea blend. He seemed more down than before; likely because she wasn’t in the immediate room with him. He toyed with one of the napkins from the dispenser, folding it and unfolding it with an absentminded look on his face. It made her heart hurt, seeing him look so sad.

Did..did he think she was mad at him? The idea made her own feelings worse.

Well- if that was the case, she’d have to prove it to him she wasn’t. And what better way to do it then her go-to?

~~~

A cup of warm tea slid beside him, shimmering in one of the cute cups Kotone insisted they purchased when she first took over. Ignis was about to take it when he felt her arms come around him from behind, her face pressed into the center of his back as she squeezed. The gesture was enough to make him jump with a startled blush. “Whoa, K-Kotone?”

“Is it working?” She asked, as if he knew her intentions.

“Erm…maybe?” He offered, not sure what she was looking for. If it was to make his heart race like crazy, then yes. It was very much working. She smelled like coffee and soap and…was that lavender? He rather liked that smell.

“Maybe isn’t good enough.” That was all the warning he got before her hands slid to his sides, grabbing them and pressing in. “Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!”

Now- Ignis was from Beastia. He was the strongest fighter there, and also had the highest pain tolerance of anyone- including the cafe residents. He’s been in more fights than he could count, and he’s experienced nearly every physical sensation out there.

He should have known none of that mattered in the face of his greatest weakness.

“AH! Aheahahahhahahaha! Gehahahhahahaha! Hhehehehehhe K-Kohohohotohohoohne!” Ignis arched, nearly flying out of his seat at the touch of her hands. Then he remembered she was directly behind him and reeled himself into moderate squirming. “D-Dohohohohohn’t! Gehahahahha, nohohohoho whahahahhay! Aheahhahaa!”

“Is it working? Huh? Is it?” She asked, voice airy with her own laughter as she carried on kneading his waist. It was something Il offhandedly mentioned once- Ignis being ticklish. She rarely experimented with it herself; more often than not he was the one tickling her.

Not that she really minded it. But today- today was a special occasion.

“Whahahhat are yoohohohu tahahhahalking abohohohut? Whahahhat wohohohorking? Ahehahahahahaha!” Ignis was torn between doubling over and grabbing at her wrists, stuck halfway and just kinda flapping his hands as he kicked his feet and cackled. “Nohohoho, dohohoh-AHH!”

“Oo, bad spot?” She asked as she reached around further, clawing at his belly. He was..a fire wolf? Was that what they called him? “Hehe, usually dogs like belly rubs! You’re so ticklish, Ignis!”

“Whohohoho yoohohou cahahhalling a doohohohog? Ahehahahhahahaha, I ahahahint no puhuhuhuhup-EHHEHEHEH!” Another claw at his belly made him whimper through his mirth, the sound much like…a dog. “Dahahahahhamn yohohohohou! Aheahhahahahahaha!”

“Hehe, I know you’re not a dog! You’re my big strong fire wolf!” She kept one hand on his belly while the other moved to his ribs, finding an even greater reaction there. “Oo, ticklish ribs too? Look at you, you’re so sensitive!”

“Geahhahahahahha! AHehaha-WHA!” Ignis yelped as he turned sharply, falling out of his seat. Kotone jumped back to avoid getting injured, wide eyed as she watched him groan some on the ground. “Ignis?”

“Ehheeh..hehehehe..I’m fihihihine..” He stood up, making a show of stretching out. “Seheheee?”

“Good…” She nodded, staring at him. He looked back at her, suspicious. “So…did it work?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he ran.

“I’m not letting this go until it works, Ignis!” She cried, laughing as she chased him around the cafe. Ahead of her, she could see him laughing just as hard, shoulders shaking and a big dumb grin on his face. “Come here!”

“Nehehehver!” He barked out a choked laugh, a scream following when she finally caught up to him. Down they went, shifting stools and tables before he was on his back, halfheartedly fighting her hands off as he laughed and laughed. “Wahhahait, wahahahit, pleahhahahse! Pleahahhase wahah-AHHEHAHAHAHHHAIT!”

“Never! Not until it works!” Kotone cried, shoving her hands up his shirt to tickle him further. Ignis kicked and thrashed beneath her, never with enough force to send her flying, but aiding in his avoidance. “Is it working? Huh?”

“AHHAHHAHA! FIHIHINE FIIHIIHIHNE, IT’S WOHOHORKING!” He shot his hands up, gathering Kotone in his arms within seconds. His laughter slowed down when she was trapped in his hug, taking slow giggly breaths. “Ohoohkay..ohohokay, wehehere dohoohne.”

Kotone was shaking against him, sending puffs of lavender into his nose. Had he not heard her giggling, he’d be worried. “Thahat was fun! We should do that more ohohoften!”

“Heh..yeah. Say, what was that for anyway?”

“Huh? Oh..I guess I never did tell you, huh?” She laughed, sitting up so she could meet his gaze. “You looked really upset after this morning- I wanted to cheer you up.”

Ignis blinked, staring at her. She flushed some under his shocked stare but held her ground. “It’s not a big deal if you used all the eggs. We were able to restock them.”

“Oh..oh, that-” He cleared his throat, averting his gaze. “That..that wasn’t what I was bothered by.” At her curious gaze, he continued. “I was…trying to learn to make omurice..cause it’s your favorite.”

Ah.

What-

Kotone blushed brightly, staring at him. “Wait- you were practicing..for me?”

“D-Don’t make such a big deal out of it!” He grunted, flushing as red as she. “I just- you always make things I like, and I feel bad you’re constantly cooking for me! I wanted to do it for you in return, but I kept failing and failing and…then I ran out of eggs.” His expression clouded, the memory of his disaster in the kitchen coming back. “I know it’s dramatic, but…I felt like such a mess. Not only could I not make your favorite dish, but I wasted your stock. Also I made the guys hate eggs.” The last bit earned a small laugh from Kotone, shaking him from his sad expression. “Sorry for worrying you so much.”

“You don’t have to apologize, not for this or for the eggs.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, watching it flare up hotter. “The fact you tried your best means the world to me.

“Tell you what..how about tomorrow, you help me make breakfast, and I’ll show you how to make one! Just like I did when we first cooked together.” His eyes widened, something hopeful entering his expression.

“Really? You mean it?” He asked, grinning when she nodded. “I love you, Kotone.” He hugged her, making her laugh.

“I love you too. We should probably get up.” She went to sit up, but his grip was firm. “Ignis?”

“Oh yeah, we’ll get up soon. But first..” He grinned at her wolfishly, fingers curling into her sides and making her squeal with laughter. “I want some good ol’ revenge! This is for the dog comments!”

“Ahehhahahhahahahha! I’m shahahhaharry! Pelahhahhahahse!”

“Oh I’m sure you are, you dork!” He growled, laughing with her as the cafe filled with noise once more.

[atwooozi]

Almost Perfect (Sebastian x Fem!Farmer) Chapter 16: A Moment Alone

Warnings: Slow burn, personal struggles, anxiety, depression, eventual smut

Summary: Angeline finds herself drawn to Sebastian, even as she tries to downplay her feelings. The group enjoys a swim, and amid the laughter and warmth of the moment, Angeline feels a sense of happiness she hadn't expected. Later, by the fire, she shares easy conversation and laughter with her friends, feeling a growing comfort in their company.

There is a short smut scene at the end of the chapter. If you'd like to avoid that by all means go ahead. You will be able to enjoy the story without it.

A/N: I hate the luau. It's the most boring event in the game, honestly. So in order to make me not hate it as much I tried my best to make it interesting. This is my second attempt at a smut scene. I'm not sure if it counts completely since it's a solo scene, but I wanna give myself a pat on the back. Let me know if you have any advice. It's much easier to read smut than it is to write it.

READ ON AO3

Chapter 16: A Moment Alone

Summer 14

“You don’t think this is too much?” Angeline said as she looked down at herself, running the fabric of her skirt between her fingers. It was hardly a skirt and more of just a sheer wrap to give the illusion of modesty. 

Haley rested her hands on her hips triumphantly as she looked at Angeline. “Who cares if it’s too much.” she said as she flicked some of her blonde waves over her shoulder. “You look hot.”

Angeline flushed as she adjusted her bikini top. She felt so exposed. “B-but isn’t the governor going to be there?”

“Yeah so?” Haley said. “What’s he gonna do? Take your farm away because you have your boobs out?” 

Sophia giggled and shook her head. “I don’t think you need to worry so much, Angie.” She rubbed her arm comfortingly. “He’s going to busy with Lewis.”

Angeline nodded and sighed, her shoulders slumped. She felt so naked. She wished that Haley had given her something less revealing to wear. She stared at herself in Haley’s mirror. The color did look nice, but she felt nervous as to just how much of her cleavage was on display and her stomach for that matter. She wasn’t opposed to showing some skin, but she felt that with this outfit barely anything could be left to the imagination. 

“Think of it this way.” Sophia suggested with a cheeky smile. “Maybe a certain someone will notice you feeling uncomfortable and lend you their hoodie?” 

Angeline flushed at the thought. She would be thankful for the cover up, but it made her anxiety soar. The thought of being enveloped in Sebastian’s hoodie was almost too much for her to imagine. Just being close to him made her feel a bit dizzy. 

“Or maybe he’ll be so obsessed that he’ll drag your cute ass back to the farm like any sensible man should.” Haley smirked. 

Angeline hid her face in her hands as she listened to her friends talk. She regretted telling them about her feelings for the resident emo. There was no way Sebastian felt that way about her. Why would he? He was so beautiful and smart. He would never think of her as something more than just a friend. She wasn’t even confident in saying that they were friends.  

“You guys…stop.” Angeline pleaded as she removed her hands from her face. “We should go before I change my mind.” 

Haley grabbed Angeline’s hand in hers, practically dragging her out of the house. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you change!” She huffed. “I spent way too much money on that outfit to just let you throw it away like that.” 

“You said it was sitting in your closet!” Angeline whined, guilt now eating at her. She needed to pay Haley back. 

“In a way I didn’t lie . ” Haley said defensively. “After I bought it, it sat in my closet…for like, two days.” 

“Haley…” Angeline groaned. Haley was too much at times. She knew her parents had money, but she didn’t want Haley to waste her money on her. 

“Shush!” 

Sophia chased after the two, carrying their ingredients for the community soup in her hands. “You guys wait up! This stuff is heavy.” She whined. 

~*~

Once the girls reached the beach, the hot air only intensified from the flames surrounding a large cauldron. It was sweltering. Angeline could feel a thin layer of sweat covering her skin. 

“Damn farmgirl,” Alex said as he approached the group of girls, wrapping his arm around Haley’s waist. “You should wear a bikini more often.” Haley frowned at the man and pinched his side. He jolted in his spot. “I mean A-Angeline.” He corrected himself. Angeline rolled her eyes at the correction.  

“Thanks Alex.” She muttered and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Come on Alex.” Haley said, tugging on his arm. “I want to go take pictures by the water.” Alex nodded and walked down the shoreline with Haley in tow. As long as Haley was happy so was she.

“At least he called you by your name.” Sophia shrugged. 

Angeline laughed and looked at the pink haired girl. “I guess that’s true.” 

Sophia smiled. “I think you’ve got some people looking for you.” She said as she nodded towards a certain trio and Victor standing near the shoreline. “I’m gonna go put some wine in the soup, go say hi.” 

Sophia gave Angeline a quick hug and got in line to add her secret ingredient to the soup. Angeline rubbed her bare arms as she looked around the beach. As much as she wanted to see Abigail, Sam, Victor, and Sebastian she felt nervous. She moved towards the buffet tables instead. She wasn’t avoiding them, she was just getting a bite to eat.   

“You good?” Angeline looked up and was surprised to see Shane, of all people, speaking to her. 

“O-oh yeah.” Angeline sighed and grabbed some salad. “I think the heat is just getting to me.” 

Shane nodded, but looked unconvinced. “Yeah…this party is kind of ass.” 

Angeline laughed in response causing Shane to grin. “It’s not ass…” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Shane said as he filled his plate. “Hopefully the governor doesn’t pass out this year from the shitty soup.” 

Angeline’s eyes widened. Pass out? She glanced over at the large pot and frowned. Maybe she would skip out on the soup after all. 

After saying a few hi’s here and there and engaging in some small talk she made her way over to Sebastian and his friends. “Hey you guys.” She said, trying her best to seem unbothered. 

“And here I thought you forgot about us.” Abigail said as she hugged Angeline’s waist. 

Angeline giggled and hugged Abigail back. “I could never.” 

Victor gave a polite wave and Angeline waved back with a smile.

“You look pretty.” Sam said with a cheerful smile which caused Angeline to flush. She had almost forgotten about the stupid outfit she had shown up in. 

“Hey…” Sebastian said with not so much of a glance in her direction. 

Angeline’s heart fluttered at the sight of Sebastian, his usual hoodie making her think back to earlier. She wanted nothing more than to feel the material of his sweater envelop her. She tried to ignore the warmth spreading through her cheeks as she replied. She needed to be cool. “Thanks, Sam. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Sam’s grin widened and he rubbed the back of his neck feeling shy. It was true, Sam looked great. He looked like he was born to be on the beach. From his blonde hair, to his sunkissed skin, and washboard abs; he fits the beach boy vibe entirely. 

Sebastian finally looked up, his stormy blue eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the ocean. “Having fun yet?” Angeline couldn’t be sure but she was almost positive she heard a bit of a pout in his voice. 

Angeline shrugged as she looked around. “Yeah, it’s not so bad so far.” 

Abigail grinned mischievously and cuddled closer to Angeline, resting her chin on her shoulder. “Well, you’re turning quite a few heads, that’s for sure.” 

Angeline flushed and shifted uncomfortably. She tugged at the hem of her skirt. “I doubt that.” 

Victor nodded. “Abigail’s right. You’re quite popular.”

Sebastian glanced between Abigail and Victor with a frown. “Abigail you’re smothering her.” 

“Am not!”

Angeline smiled warily. Since when was Abigail so touchy?

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Angeline for a moment longer than necessary. “It’s just hot, you’ll get heat stroke like that.” He muttered, looking away at the horizon. 

“Sure, blame the heat.” Abigail egged him on with a playful smirk. Angeline looked between the two. She felt caught in the middle of something. Abigail smiled at Angeline trying her best to look innocent. 

Angeline did her best to shrug off Abigail’s antics and looked towards the oceanside. The sunsets here were out of a painting. She couldn’t help but steal a glance at Sebatian, his profile etched against the backdrop of the setting sun was breathtaking. She wished she could take a picture of it.    

“So Angeline,” Sam spoke up, breaking up the silence. “You ready to hit the water? It’s gotta be perfect right now.” 

Angeline blinked, torn between the desire to cool off in the ocean and the nervous fluttering in her stomach at the idea of being so exposed in her current outfit. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Abigail urged, sensing Angeline’s hesitation. “We’ll keep an eye on any rogue waves for ya.” 

Angeline relented at the other’s urging. “Okay..” She glanced at Sebastian. “Are you gonna swim too?” 

Sebastian shook his head firmly. “I don’t swim.” 

Angeline wanted to protest, but Abigail was already dragging her towards the shore along with Sam. The sound of laughter and crashing waves filled the air. However, Angeline couldn’t shake the feeling of Sebastian’s gaze on her. She found herself stealing a few glances at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. 

Sam wasted no time diving into the water, his laughter echoing across the beach. Abigail followed suit, her playful shouts mingling with Sam’s. 

Abigail turned to Angeline once she surfaced. “Are you coming?” 

Angeline hesitated for a moment before nodding. Her heart was racing from her nerves. She carefully waded into the water, the cool ocean washing over her. Angeline couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from her chest as Sam splashed her playfully. 

For a moment, everything else faded away– the worries about her outfit, the nervousness about Sebastian, the heat of the day. All that mattered was the warmth of the sun on her skin, the laughter of her friends, and the happiness she was feeling. 

Once the group had finished their swim they joined Victor and Sebastian again on the sand. The two raven haired boys had started a fire. 

Angeline sat herself next to Abigail near the fire and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling a slight chill from the wind. She couldn’t help but steal glances at Sebastian as he sat across from her. She admired the way the firelight danced across his features. 

The conversation flowed easily between the group. Angeline found herself laughing at Sam’s silly stories where Abigail would constantly interject. She felt a sense of comfort and ease around them all that she hadn’t expected when she first met them all a month ago. 

As the night wore on, and the fire crackled in the background, Angeline had started to feel more comfortable. She glanced over at Sebastian and much to her surprise caught his eye. She felt her heart skip a beat and felt the tips of her ears prick with warmth. 

“Hey, Angeline.” Sebastian said as he walked over to her. His voice was low and warm. “Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” He said his voice barely above a whisper. “Away from the crowd?” 

Angeline felt like she was going to faint. She somehow managed to nod, her voice barely above a whisper. “O-okay.” 

As they walked along the dock, the sound of the waves crashing against the worn wood, Angeline felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She stole a glance at Sebastian, his profile illuminated by the moonlight. She couldn’t help but smile. He was absolutely breathtaking. The lighting didn’t matter. His features were just that stunning, at least to her. 

“What?” Sebastian turned to look at Angeline, a smile smirk playing on his lips. She felt caught. 

Angeline shook her head. “N-nothing!” 

She was fumbling for something to say. Anything. She couldn’t just outright say he was beautiful. “Th-the moon.” 

Sebastian looked up at the sky. “The moon?” 

“Yeah…” Angeline trailed off. “It looks beautiful.” 

Angeline felt her heart beating up against her chest as they stood there in silence. She couldn’t take it. 

“Yeah…it does.” Sebastian said softly as he continued to stare at the night sky. 

Angeline felt a surge of courage as she looked at Sebastian. She knew she had to say something. She needed to let him know how she felt. But for whatever reason the words seemed to escape her. She felt caught in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. 

“Sebastian,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I..” “You guys! We need to go!” Abigail called out to the pair. “Willy said a storm is coming.” 

Sebastian turned to look at Angeline. “I guess we should go.” 

Angeline swallowed up her words and nodded. “Y-yeah…” 

Angeline’s head spun and her heart hammered against her chest. She couldn’t say it. It wasn’t the right time.  

Sebastian reached out a hand, offering it to Angeline. She hesitated for just a moment before slipping her hand into his. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her as they walked along the rickety dock. 

The wind had picked up as they approached the beach. It sent a chill down Angeline’s spine. As they rejoined the others around the fire, Abigail was already packing up her belongings along with Sam and Victor. 

The group quickly gathered their things, putting out the fire. Angeline felt a pang of disappointment that their moment had been interrupted, but she pushed it aside, focusing on gathering her things. 

She would just need to try again. The time wasn’t right. 

~*~

The smut scene is only going to be available on AO3 to avoid as much minor interaction as possible. If you want to read it please check out the chapter on AO3.

[natsumesakasaki666]

Tsumugi FS2 Sharing the Happiness

Characters: Tsumugi, Ritsu, Nagisa, Hinata, Tori, Anzu

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

<a few hours later in the Starmony dorm’s kitchen>

Ritsu: Alright, it looks like it’s rising up nicely

Tsumugi: Yes. There’s already a delicious smell in the air~♪

We should start preparing the things we need to add on the finishing touches…

Ritsu: It’s a shame that Anzu isn’t here. Cupcakes taste best when they’re freshly baked.

Tsumugi: I agree. I forgot that Anzu-chan can’t enter the Starmony dorms.

She helped me pick out the ingredients, so I wanted to treat her with these in return.

Ritsu: Since Anzu can’t come over and eat them here, why not bring them to her tomorrow?

You have to meet with her anyways to return this camera.

Geez Anzu, you can be so cheeky at times. Asking me to me your cameraman because you can’t enter the dorms.

Tsumugi: Fufu. But you still took photos even though you said it was a pain, ♪

And you even taught me how to bake sweets, I really appreciate it!

Ritsu: No need to thank me~ It was definitely a hassle but it wasn’t tedious.

And although I taught Aoba oniichan how to bake sweets, you didn’t end up making them like I instructed.

Tsumugi: Ahaha, your method of baking is quite unique, I don’t think I can pull it off…

When I tried to, I made a huge mess and had to go change my clothes…

Ritsu: What a waste~. If you followed my instructions correctly, you were surely going to make the most delicious cupcakes you’ve ever tasted.

Well whatever~, these cupcakes you made using a recipe book look delicious too.

When it’s finished, I’ll give it a taste to see how you did♪

Tsumugi: Sure thing! It’s fine for you to try as many as you’d like.

It’s not much, but it’s more than I can finish eating myself.

Ritsu: That’s what I thought too but aren’t you making way too much?

Since this is Aoba oniichan baking them, are you planning on giving these to everyone in the dorms?

Tsumugi: That’s correct. That was my intention from the beginning!

I actually never planned on eating any of these sweets I made.

Ritsu: Come to think of it, you were only baking these sweets to bring good luck, right?

That’s kind of odd. Don’t people usually bake food because they want to eat it?

Besides, if you were doing this just for good luck, there was no need to bake such a large amount, right?

Tsumugi: ahaha, I was thinking that the more I bake, the more lucky I’ll become…

I also thought that the more I bake, the more people I could make happy

Nagisa: …sweet things certainly make people feel happy. I agree with you, Tsumugi-kun

Tsumugi: wah!? It’s Nagisa-kun, hello! Is there something you need?

Ah, could it be that you were lured here by the sweet smell…?

Nagisa: ….yeah. I was in the library reading a book, then this sweet smell came by

Tsumugi: I understand now. Please wait a little while longer. It should be finished baking soon.

Ritsu: ….yep. It looks like it’s ready now, Aoba oniichan

Tsumugi: When you’re taking out the pan always remember to be careful…. slowly…… I did it!

Phew…… fufu. ♪ Don’t they look delicious right after leaving the oven♪

Nagisa: ….yeah. Is it alright if I eat one now?

Tsumugi: ah, please wait a bit more! I’m sure it tastes great as is, but I need to work on it for a little more…

Tsumugi: First I need to pipe on this cream….. nice, it turned out quite well

Next, I’ll put some fruit on top… and it’s done! Now all I have to do is repeat the same process for the rest♪

Ritsu: there’s quite a lot left though, should I help? I’ll do it my own way though.

Nagisa: …should I help out too?

Tsumugi: you’re right, may I ask for your guy’s help? Everyone will be able to eat them much faster that way.

It’d be great if you could place the finished ones over here.

Ritsu: Got it. Now then, let me show you my pro decorating skills♪

Tsumugi: fufu, Thanks. I’ll try to repeat the same process I did before so we can proceed smoothly.

Carefully squeeze the cream again, making sure it doesn’t look bad…. Wah!? Some cream got onto my hands!?

Ritsu: Geez, Aoba-oniichan is so clumsy~ you’re too nervous, aren’t you squeezing with way too much force?

Tsumugi: a-ahaha…. You’re right, sorry. Is this alright?

Nagisa: ….yeah. I think it’s good. Is there any chocolate cream? If there is, I’d prefer that

Tsumugi: Sorry, I don’t have any chocolate cream. To make up for it, I’ll pipe on some extra cream for you♪

<a few minutes later>

Tsumugi: These are looking good. Fufu, piping cream is really fun once you get the hang of it!

Nagisa: …Tsumugi-kun, is it fine if I eat one now? How long do I have to wait?

Tsumugi: ah, sorry for making you wait. They’re ready to eat now, so you can go ahead and try one.

Nagisa: ….thank you.

…yum. It’s delicious. It tastes like happiness.

Tsumugi: I’m glad you think so! I would have been a little depressed if you said it didn’t.

Ritsu: Well Aoba oniichan made it exactly according to the recipe. So if it tasted bad then the recipe was bad to begin with.

Hinata and Tori: So this is where the sweet smell was coming from~!

Ritsu: oh~ They’re like ants swarming towards sugar~

Tsumugi: Do you two want some cupcakes? They’re best when you eat them freshly baked♪

Hinata: Really? Yay~! I’ll help myself, thanks for the food~♪

Tori: mmm~ you’re right, it’s so delicious! I could eat a bunch…!

Ritsu: (The more you bake, the more people you can make happy…)

(I see now, it’s exactly as Aoba oniisan said)

Tori: I think Yuzuru will get mad if I eat too much but— one more should be fine, right?

Hinata: Sweets are great for your body after hard work~ I’ll have another one too♪

Tsumugi: fufu, there’s no need to rush, there’s still plenty more cupcakes. So please eat more slowly.

Ritsu: …whoops. I almost forgot about Anzu’s request.

I can tell that this is a great photo opportunity♪

<next day>

Tsumugi: Sorry to keep you waiting Anzu-chan! Here’s the camera you lent me yesterday.

Fufu, thanks to Ritsu-kun, I was able to get a lot of good photos.

When I looked through them, I found a lot of photos I want to include in the “feature live” pamphlet.

Ah, that photo is really nice, right♪ Everyone is enjoying the cupcakes!

Look at my smile! You can easily see how happy I was in the moment!

I had a very satisfying day yesterday. I feel like my luck has improved from baking those cupcakes♪

Oh and before I forget, let me give this to you Anzu! These are the cupcakes I baked yesterday!

I baked a lot of these cupcakes and accumulated a good amount of luck. I now want to share this happiness with you♪

Well then, that’s enough chatting for now, shall we get to work?

First, I’ll have that meeting with Anzu-chan I passed on yesterday.

I’ll do my best to make sure this “feature live” is a success♪

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

[footballffbarbiex]

Always A First.

player: Hector Bellerin words: 757 request: Hector Bellerin  |  She  |   Hector wants to be more with the girl that owns a vegetable stand (the vegan in me will scream if you wrote smoll blurb about this)

-

With a new produce store opening, Hector hadn’t been able to resist visiting. The urge to feel and sniff everything was taking over but he remained firm and allowed his eyes to feast on the bright colours while he took in the scents of the produce and smells of the store itself. His mind whirls with ideas of what to make whenever he comes in and each new dish tastes better than the last with the endless possibilities now presented to him. It quickly became routine for Hector to pass by when he was finishing training or after a match, if it was still open. With pulses, grains, dairy free milks and cheese, the small store held a lot of goods which brought in a lot of custom; especially his.

He’d like to put it down to only the food as to why he’s continued to come here, but really, he knows it’s more than that. With his basket hooked over his forearm as he browses, he keeps glancing up to see where she is, quickly dropping his gaze once more if she begins to look up at him. Funny, beautiful and from what he’s witnessed, kind and caring, she seemed to be the whole package and that made him nervous. Each time he’s been in, she’s always struck up conversation with him, made him laugh and left him feeling butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Still pretending to be minding his business, he almost misses her speaking to him - only realising it’s him that she’s speaking to when he glances back up and she’s laughing, her eyes fixed on him as she leans against the cash register counter. “In a world of your own today, I see.”

“I am so sorry, were you speaking to me?” heat flushes his cheeks and he hopes they’re not reddening as much as they feel it.

She pays attention to me?

“It’s fine.” she gives a wave of her hand and smiles again. “I asked what you were cooking tonight.”

“Not a clue at the minute. I keep hoping I’ll see something that I want but I’m coming up with nothing. Not that there’s nothing good to eat here, because there is,” he stumbles over his words, “it’s just that-”

“Too much choice?” She finishes for him, saving him from himself.

“Right.” he nods, “usually I have an idea when I come in for what I want but,” he gives her another look and when she looks at him expectantly, he finishes with a rather disappointing “I’m a bit lost for ideas now. And words apparently.”

She eyes the contents of his basket and scrunches her mouth to the side as she begins to play with a pen as she thinks. “Do you have any allergies?”

“Trying to kill me off?” he grins after speaking and she laughs.

“It’s good to know your weaknesses of course.”

“None. No allergies. That I’ve found anyway.”

“There’s always a first,” she teases and pushes away from the counter. “Come, follow me.”

She navigates the store in a way that you would expect the owner to. She makes her way down the narrow aisles, fingers pulling items from the shelves and drops them into his basket, occasionally holding up two items and asking which he’d prefer.

“Have I put anything in here that you wouldn’t eat?” she asks, and he shakes his head. No.

Hector watches as she gathers everything she needs and heads back to the counter, pulls a pad of paper from beneath the desk and begins to write out a recipe.

Her handwriting is neat, almost as though she’s printed it from a word document. He can see a list of ingredients and their quantities, and step by step being written out.

“Try this,” she says as she carefully pulls the paper from the pad and hands it to him. “I’d like a review.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

“Then it’s certainly how you’ve made it, because this is tried and tested. And if it’s awful, I’ll have to make it for you myself sometime.”

“Then maybe I’ll make it badly and see how it should be done.”

“Oh no, no, no.” She wags her finger at him, “you are not wasting my good produce like this. I will be happy to cook for you, but you need to ask me for the date first.”

“Tonight? After you close up?”

“You waste no time. I like that. Tonight is good.” She nods and smiles to herself before ringing up his sale.

If you’d like to be added/removed/update your URL, then please let me know here. Crossed out means that tumblr cannot find your blog at this time. 

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forever non smut:  @Yagetintoit  |

[addierose444]

Easy Workday Breakfasts

Throughout much of high school and college, I rarely ate breakfast. This is primarily because I’ve never been much of a morning person so waking up any earlier than strictly necessary didn’t seem worth it. I’m also not a huge fan of typical breakfast foods. In college, I always hated the weekends because rather than providing a proper lunch most of the dining halls only served brunch. And while I do like some breakfast foods, buttermilk pancakes for instance, in general, I don’t consider them to be real food. I do consider eggs to be real food, but for roughly a decade I couldn’t stand the taste of them. As of January of this year, I’m now able to eat eggs and in a typical week make a spinach omelet for dinner two nights a week (with the leftover spinach from my tofu spinach salads). I hope to share the full recipe soon, but the secret for me has been adding cheese directly to the raw eggs. 

Now that I’m working a full-time job, I typically eat breakfast (during the workweek that is). To make my mornings easier, I tend to gravitate towards meals that I can prepare the night before and eat at work. I tend to eat the same breakfast every single day for a few weeks or months after which I’ll mix it up. In this post, I’ll go through the weekday breakfasts I’ve enjoyed over the past ten months as well as some commentary on why I started or stopped eating it. 

Yogurt with Granola

This was my go-to breakfast during the first two months of my job. This breakfast can be made the morning of by simply spooning yogurt into a bowl and topping it with a handful of the granola of your choice. The granola simply provides flavor and a crunch. To enjoy it in the office you’ll need a container for the yogurt as well as a separate smaller one to keep the granola dry. (Alternatively, you could store the granola in your office as it doesn’t need to be refrigerated). My storebought granola of choice is the Kind Peanut Butter Whole Grain Clusters. I’ve also successfully made my very own peanut butter granola by combining rolled oats, peanut butter, maple syrup, and avocado oil on a sheet pan and baking. (I made this as a snack for my hike up Mount Si, but unfortunately don’t have an exact recipe). If I remember correctly, the yogurt I used to use for this breakfast is low-fat vanilla. It would also work well with a higher fat and/or plain yogurt with a little bit of maple syrup. As for why I stopped eating this breakfast, part of it is that I stopped eating breakfast in my apartment. Additionally, the store-bought granola was a bit pricy and it wasn’t until this spring that I tried making it myself. 

Peanut Butter Overnight Oats

This is one of my absolute favorites! It’s somewhat similar to the previous breakfast but has a different texture and ratio of ingredients. To make my overnight oats I simply stir together half a cup of rolled oats, half a cup of milk, two large spoonfuls of peanut butter, and a splash of maple syrup. The oats then sit in the fridge overnight to absorb the milk. The next morning the oats can be enjoyed cold straight out of the fridge. Milk as compared with yogurt has some pros and cons. The pro is that I could get free 8oz milk cartons from work. The con is that I had to remember to grab milk when leaving the office. As for why I didn’t just buy milk at the store like a normal person, the reality is that I’d end up wasting a lot of milk as I only needed two and a half cups per week. (I don’t drink milk and would only cook with it on the very rare occasion to make mac and cheese). 

Oatmeal with Dried Cranberries 

In the winter, it can be nice to have a hot breakfast. Thus for a time, I turned to hot oatmeal instead of overnight oats. The easiest way to make a single portion of oatmeal is in the microwave. Simply combine half a cup of rolled oats, one cup of water, and a small pinch of salt in a deep microwave-safe bowl. Cook on high for two minutes, stir, and cook for an additional 30 seconds. To serve, add a splash of maple syrup and a handful of dried cranberries. The one downside to hot breakfasts is that they to be eaten at home or prepared in the office. For that reason, this breakfast only really stuck for about two weeks. That said, I think it’s still worth recommending.

Peanut Butter Toast or Rollup 

I don’t have a toaster so the toast version of this was just a sad piece of bread that I thawed overnight. Yeah, doesn’t sound great, but peanut butter is delicious and pulled its weight. I can’t exactly remember why I started eating this breakfast, but I think part of it was that I was missing peanut butter but not ready to return to something fridge-cold. One downside to this breakfast is that it isn’t particularly filling. That said, at the time I was eating a very early lunch with folks on my team so a filling bowl of oatmeal was overkill. Over Thanksgiving, I ate store-bought yogurt cups. After Thanksgiving I, by and large, reverted to being a no-breakfast person. I guess part of this was due to those early lunches and all of the rich holiday meals. In mid-January, I temporarily returned to eating peanut butter for breakfast this time spread over half of a flour tortilla and rolled up. 

Strawberry Yogurt

By the end of January, I returned to having a yogurt-based breakfast. The motivation for this breakfast was to incorporate fruit into my diet while also being more conscious of the amount of carbs I was consuming. Despite being for health reasons, I genuinely do look forward to this breakfast each morning. To make this breakfast, I start by making a maple yogurt base by adding four tablespoons of maple syrup to a quart of plain whole milk yogurt. For the strawberry part, I finely chop or grate frozen strawberries. To make a single serving, I combine ⅕ of the yogurt (just over ¾ of a cup measured as three serving spoon-sized spoonfuls) and ⅓ cup of the strawberries. I’ve not yet tried mixing all of the strawberries directly into the quart of yogurt, but don’t think it would come out as well. For starters, the yogurt container is already full to the brim after adding the maple syrup. More importantly, once fully thawed the strawberries add a bit of water to the yogurt which could mess with the texture. Finally, I don’t know how long the thawed strawberries would last in the fridge. 

[mrman444]

May Favorites

I really like watching videos of people talking about their favorite things from the month. So I thought I’d try doing something like that myself. So here are my favorite things from May 2023 (this is not an ad, I’m not affiliated with or paid by anyone).

A Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon: I’m trying to get back into reading. I used to read a lot as a kid but I stopped around high school. I’m only around a hundred pages into A Day of Fallen Night (I’m reading really slowly) but I’m really enjoying it so far. I love the way Shannon writes and I love all the characters so far. I don’t sit down to read very often (I’m trying to be more consistent), but when I do I always get sucked in.

16oz Carter Move Mug (in the color “lavender”): I love this thing. It’s really comfortable to drink out of and it’s completely leak proof with the lid on. It also comes with a splash guard and fits in my car’s cupholder unlike my other Carter mug (an original Carter Wide Mug). I’ve been getting drinks at cafes with it and that’s been a cool new experience.

AirPod Pros 2nd Gen: The only other AirPods I’ve ever owned were the original when they first came out. These are much better obviously lol. The active noise cancelling is great and the transparency mode is super useful. I didn’t expect to use it as much as I do. The only thing I don’t like about them is the fact they slowly slip out of my ears as I’m wearing them. They’ve only fallen out once or twice but it’s still annoying. The original AirPods barely fit my ears at all, so these are an improvement. But still.

Nivea Sun Protect Super Water Gel SPF 50: I’m not a person who enjoys doing his skincare or buying new products. I have very sensitive roseaca prone, acne prone, combination skin. So the majority of products I try either make me break out (I think I’m allegeric to some ingredient that’s in a lot of things) or burns my face. This sunscreen doesn’t do either of those things though. It’s super lightweight and feels more like a moisturizer than a sunscreen. It doesn’t take forever to rub in or make my face oily. Also it comes with 140g of product in each container for not a huge amount much of money.

Booda Butter Deodorant: A TikTok I saw recommended this product and I decided to give it a try. It’s a natural deodorant that comes in a glass jar. It actually works pretty well. Normally natural deodorants don’t work at all on me but this one does. Sometimes it does wear off by the end of the day so you have to reapply. But other than that I like it. I want to start switching over to more “zero waste” products as I run out of my current ones, so I’ll probably keep buying this deodorant. Plus you get a cool jar once you’re done with it.

[sweetleaf-cafe]

Childe when his s/o is sick

First, he knows he has a job to do, and it will get done.

Still, he can take a little time off to take care of his s/o… right?

Even if he can’t he’ll rush through his jobs to get home as soon as possible.

Maybe after doing a little shopping tho

It’s more than a little.

Comes home with his arms full of ingredients, stuffed animals, books, medicine, anything and everything you can think of.

Actually ended up being a bit later than normal, since he spent so much time trying to find the right stuff.

Still, once he’s home, it’s all hugs and cuddles, knowing full well he’s bound to get sick.

No matter how much s/o protests, he wants to make sure they get plenty of affection so they can recover quickly!!!

Also, not opposed to getting sick after them so he has an excuse to make them take care of him.

That doesn’t mean s/o isn’t going to get teased.

No way he isn’t taking pictures of every notable moment.

They’re never going to forget just how awful they looked wrapped up in the thick comforters Childe insisted on layering on them.

At the same time, he’s quite attentive and will make sure his s/o is as comfortable as possible.

He’s quite good at it too.

Childe will cook up food that’s easy to digest and quite yummy too, as he’s learned a lot from taking care of his younger siblings.

He doesn’t really mind going all out, he just wants a/o better as soon as possible.

Although, he does find them fun to mess with when they’re tired, sick, and grouchy.

Overall, he’ll be extremely sweet and also an absolute menace, but it helps liven the house up a bit, so it’s not too bad.

-

“I’m back! And I brought your favorite!” Childe chirps as he carries in the loads of stuff that was honestly unnecessary. Still, given your current situation, you didn’t really have the heart to care. Although, you would have to try to find places for it all later. A picture of your partner rushing from store to store, practically burning money as he goes, just because you’re a bit sick brings out a small chuckle. For all the good he does, Childe is quite the handful. However, after a few moments, that same chuckle turns into a groan as a wave of nausea crashes over you.

Hearing your extremely audible suffering, Childe pops his head through the door before coming inside, armed with a stuffed animal and a hot pack. “Hah, looks like you’re in for quite the fight, if only I could battle this thing myself.” Childe muses cheekily as he helps you with the pack and to get you more comfortable. When he finds himself met with a glare for his words, he only laughs.

“Well, if you want to fight this thing, I’d happily let you take it off my hands.” You complain, wanting to throw your hands up in exasperation as your patience runs thinner the longer this goes on.

“Is that a challenge? Because I most certainly accept.” Childe flashes you a grin as he climbs into bed with you, layering on the affection.

“Hey! Wait- wait a sec! You’re going to get sick too!” You protest, not wanting to have to take care of him because of his recklessness, and maybe slightly bitter that’s he’s stealing some of your covers.

“Maybe, or maybe not. And if I do get sick, then you can pay me back for this.” Childe grins, quite content with himself.

Despite your soreness, you still attempt to kick him out of bed, not that it works. Even when perfectly healthy, it would be a challenge, but now it just seems a waste of energy. Turning over, you huff as you give up on trying to get him off you.

Wrapping an arm around you, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, although, he never does. While sleep does seem rather nice, he prefers to watch over you to make sure you’re comfortable. Slowly, once he’s sure you won’t wake up, he peels himself away and off the bed to cook something so that you have something to munch on when you wake up.

Though, before he leaves the room, he brushes his hands, although still gloved, over your hair. Each stroke is featherlight, not wanting you to awake from your slumber and respite from suffering. He can’t help but find you endearing in this state, and he swells with pride knowing that you trust him enough to see you like this. Still, he quietly leaves the room, and takes care to shut the door as quietly as possible.

It doesn’t take him long to finish cooking, as he picks a traditional recipe from his home, thinking about all the warm meals Sonya made for him when he was young. Really, he couldn’t wait until you could meet his family and you could try her cooking firsthand. Still, there’s time yet for that, and he decides on focus on getting you better now. Maybe, he’ll ask you to visit them with him once this is over. His family would be incredibly excited!

After he finishes plating the dish, he heads inside your room, first checking if you’re awake and ready to eat. Once he realizes you’re still asleep, he sets the bowl and plate at the bedside and sits himself down next to you on the floor. It’s not the most comfortable, but but it’s nothing like the rough winters of Snezhnaya spent on hard wooden floors and huddling for heat. No, in comparison, this seems quite preferable.

While still asleep, your face scrunches up and a slight whimper passes through your lips as the symptoms grow worse during sleep. Childe takes your hands as you stir, whispering softly to you as he attempts to lull you back into peace. It squeezes his heart to see you in pain, knowing what he’s able to do is limited. Time stretches on as you show little improvement, and despite knowing it’s not too serious, he can’t help but worry. Once it passes, he presses a small kiss to your hand as he hopes for pleasant dreams to distract you from your sickness.

[twistedtranslations]

Kalim Al Asim - Master Chef

You can unlock this story by getting Kalim’s SR Master Chef

Translation under the cut

Chapter 1

Cafetaria - Judging Venue

A little while before the cooking preparations start-

Kalim: Chef! Please take care of me!

Trey: Well, aren’t you excited?

Ghost chef: He certainly is. Were you perhaps looking forward to the Master Chef program?

Kalim: Yeah! I’ve always been told that “I’m not allowed to use kitchen knives or stoves because they’re dangerous”. That’s why I pretty much never cooked before. But they gave me the okay because a professional is instructing me today! So I’m super excited to try some real cooking!

Ghost chef: S-So, they forbid you to touch knives and stoves? You must’ve grown up in quite an overprotective household. Nevertheless, I am elated that you were looking forward to this program so much! I am eager to teach you. Let me list the meals we’re going to make today.

Kalim: We’re going to make biryani, right?

Ghost chef: Yes. Biryani is a seasoned rice with meat and all kinds of ingredients and spices. We steam curry and rice together, alternated on top of each other in layers. Originally it was a dish of the royal court, and is served a lot at festivals~

Kalim: That’s great! Seems like a perfect dish to welcome guests with.

Trey: Hey Kalim. I have one question… You’re always hosting the banquets. Have you never worked behind the scenes? If you never did, I understand why you wouldn’t know how to cook on purpose but…

Kalim: Now that you say it, Jamil always takes care of the preparations, not me. But this time I know that it’s the host's job to cook the meals to entertain the guests at the banquet. Seeing a chunk of meat roast in front of you, cutting stuff up… I really wanted to try it myself!

Trey: I see. So that’s why you took up Master Chef.

Kalim: Yeah. I can entertain more guests by learning more ways to delight them. By the way, you’re in charge of making the sweets at Heartslabyul’s tea parties, aren’t you? You seem like an expert at receptions, so if you have any secrets, please tell me.

Trey: I don’t think you should use our Unbirthday parties as reference. It’s basically just a gathering of people of our own. It’s different from your parties with guests from all over. And even if you were to use it as a reference… Don’t you want to try making sweets for divided preferences?

Kalim: Huh! So you do it like that. I just want to make everyone eat whatever I like… But yeah, there probably are some people who don’t like peculiar tasting herbs. I realized that next time I hold a feast, I should have a menu that everyone loves and not only ornate dishes. I just want to please as many people as I can!

Ghost chef: Indeed, the guests’s wishes are most important for hospitality. I too stand in the kitchen every day to see the smiles of our students. But enough chattering. It’s about time to cook!

Kitchen

Ghost chef: Kalim, there are enough ingredients to make this recipe three times. In the unlikely event that you fail, we’ll be fine. Relax and enjoy the process.

Kalim: Gotcha! I’ll do my best!

Ghost chef: First, we should cut the ingredients. I’ll have you cut the ginger, garlic, onions and tomatoes. Let’s start with the tomato. Put the flat side on the chopping board. That makes it easier to cut.

Kalim: The flat side… Like this?

Ghost chef: Yes! Now you take the knife with your dominant hand. Hold the tomato down with your other hand so it won’t move when cutting. Put the knife in front of you and press down the middle, while moving back and forth to cut it. Try to use big movements instead of force.

Kalim: Softly with big movements… Wow, I cut the tomato in half!

Ghost chef: Yes, well done! Continue cutting it like that.

Ghost chef: Okay, we finished cutting everything. Next up is…

Kalim: Hm? Hey, chef. There are still some uncut ingredients on the table, can’t we use them?

Ghost chef: Those were just spares in case you failed. You can add ingredients to your preference if you want to?

Kalim: Really? I’m going to use everything!

Ghost chef: E-Everything!? That’s about three times more than the recipe calls for. If you do that our next step might become problematic… Are you sure?

Kalim: Yeah. The more ingredients, the more our guests can eat to their heart's content. Okay, I’m cutting the rest!

Ghost chef: We have now finished cutting up all the spares. Next up is a vital part of biryani’s flavor… the curry! First, heat oil in a saucepan. Stir-fry the green cardamom, clove and cinnamon.

Kalim: Gotcha. ...Ah, wait! You know, I think it’d be splendid if we add more spices, considering we also added more ingredients.

Ghost chef: Right. If you added three times the ingredients, we should also add three times the spices…

Kalim: Great! Okay I’m adding all the spices!

Ghost chef: What?

/Pouring noise

Ghost chef: (H-HE POURED IN ALL THE SPICES~~!)

Kalim: Hahaha! I’m sure this will turn out great with all these ingredients and spices! Let’s continue cooking!

Chapter 2

Cafetaria - Judging Venue

Ruggie: Lalalalala~ Man, bein’ chosen as judge is so great for my food expenses. I’m so looking forward to it. I can already smell the aromas from the kitchen… BLERGH!! T-This intense smell… are those spices!? What the heck happened there!?

Kalim: Hey, Ruggie! So you’re the judge. That’s great! I got some biryani to serve.

Ruggie: No… I have to judge Kalim’s food…

Kalim: Here you go, bon appétit.

Ruggie: Bon appétit, he says… wait, why is there a mountain spilling off this large plate!? How many servings are there!?

Kalim: Uh, I used all the spare ingredients… I wonder how many servings there are? Anyway, it was a huge pot!

Ruggie: O-Okay. (Just as I expected, this seems spicy…) But not eating it would be a waste… I just gotta dig in!

/Chomp

Ruggie: HHHHHHHOOOOOT!! This is too spicy! Is this a punishment!?

Kalim: A-Ah? I wanted you to eat your fill, so I put in a lot of ingredients but did I overdo it? … Ruggie! You’re dripping in sweat after only one bite of the biryani! Hm… and Trey even told me that thinking about the preferences of the guests is important in hospitality. If you don’t like biryani I should just serve another…

Ruggie: ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! Eatin’ what’s served is my creed. Even if I take it home, I’ll finish it! I’m very happy that there are so many ingredients… I’ll be fine, I’ll eat it!

Kalim: H-Hey. This is the first time you made such a cornered expression!? To think I made such an inedible thing for you to persist like that… Sorry, Ruggie! I’m not used to cooking…

Ghost chef: Oh, calm down, you two! It’s fine to remake it instead of being pessimistic.

Kalim: If it weren’t that spicy you should be able to enjoy it right!?

Ruggie: Now that’s a wonderful idea!

Kalim: Okay, let me make something that you won’t regret! But how should I remake it?

Ghost chef: Right, how about this?

/Placing cutlery down

Ruggie: Hmpf… I’m so full! I’m satisfied! And the way you wrapped the spicy biryani in an omelet like omurice, and how you stewed it in coconut milk. That got me. Kalim, your do-overs were all amazing.

Kalim: Great! What a relief.

Ruggie: By the way, can I take the leftovers home?

Kalim: Of course!

Ruggie: Shshshs. I won’t have to worry about food for a few days with these!

Kalim: … While the biryani was a failure, I still learned a lot of skills and satisfied Ruggie. Thank you, chef!

Ghost chef: You’re welcome. Kalim, you honestly have a lot of potential. I want you to continue challenging your cooking.

Kalim: Really? I’ll do my best to learn many more recipes to please my guests!

Ruggie: Wait there, I think you should taste it as well...

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [SR] Spotlight (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Masumi: …

Izumi: Ah. Good morning, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: …Morning.

Izumi: You have class from first period today, right?

Masumi: Yeah.

Izumi: Omi-kun had an early shift this morning, so Kumon-kun, Misumi-kun and I made breakfast.

Kumon: We made lotsa onigiri~!

Misumi: By the way, this is a curry pilaf onigiri that Director-san made!

Masumi: Give that here. …It tastes great.

Option 1: “I’m glad to hear that.”

Izumi: I’m glad to hear that.

Masumi: I feel your love… I want to keep all these onigiri here for myself.

Izumi: All of them!? I don’t think you can finish all that…

Masumi: I can eat an endless supply of onigiri that you make, so don’t worry about it.

Option 2: “There’s a lot of other flavours too!”

Izumi: I’ve prepared a lot of other flavours too!

Masumi: What kinds are there?

Izumi: Keema curry onigiri, cheese curry onigiri, curry mayo onigiri, and green curry onigiri!

Masumi: All of them sound tasty.

Izumi: Fufu. I'm proud of all of them, so give them a try if you’d like!

Izumi: …Ah, right. I’ll hand this over to you.

Masumi: What’s this?

Izumi: It’s your questionnaire for “Spotlight”. Your turn is up next, so give it a read before the day of.

Misumi: It’s Masumi’s turn already, huh~? I had fun with the interview.

Izumi: The interviewer is Kasumi-san after all.

Masumi: …The First Love Master.

Izumi: Eh?

Masumi: It’s nothing.

Kumon: Masumi-san! Try my onigiri too! It’s jam-packed with ingredients!

Masumi: …It’s huge. What’s inside?

Kumon: Well, you see… there’s wieners, boiled eggs, meatballs, and fried chicken~.

Masumi: You stuffed it way too full.

Kumon: I thought it’d be more efficient to eat a bunch of stuff at once!

Misumi: Lookie here, Masumi! Behold, my triangle onigiri!

Kumon: Sumi-san’s onigiri is a super neat triangle!

Izumi: It’s really well-made.

Misumi: It'd be a waste to eat it, so I'll display it in my room~.

Izumi: Wait, no. Make sure you eat it, alright!?

Masumi: …*Sigh*.

-pause-

Masumi: …

Madoka: Oh, Masumi. Do you have class now?

Masumi: Yeah. And you?

Madoka: Same. My next class is also in this building.

Masumi: …Misumi made a huge load of onigiri this morning.

Madoka: Ahaha… nii-san’s love for triangles is the same as always.

Masumi: He said he was going use them to decorate his room.

Madoka: How did that happen…?

Student: Erm—.

Masumi: …What?

Student: Um, you’re MANKAI Company’s Usui Masumi-kun, right? I’m supporting you! That’s all I wanted to say! Please excuse me!

Masumi: …

Madoka: That’s amazing… you have fans at school too. I’ve heard rumours. But you’re so popular that people will even call out to you at school like this, huh?

Masumi: Whatever… all I need is her.

Madoka: By her… do you mean Director-san?

Masumi: Yeah.

Madoka: I see you’re devoted to Director-san as usual. But I think it's a blessing to have people who support you. After all, Theater is only possible because of the people who approach us in person, or come all the way to our theaters to watch our plays.

Masumi: …

-pause-

Masumi: …Phew. (This report… took a while.) (…Come to think of it, I haven’t looked at the questionnaire I got from Director yet.) (In the interview last time… I think we talked about our second performance where I played the lead role.) (Then… what happened again…) …

---

| next

[yellowsuitcase]

Intertwined // Draco Malfoy

Request:  Hi, can i request an imagine where Y/N and Draco has been together for a long time but one time, Draco forgot to use protection and didn't care for Y/N in the next morning so she got reallll upset. At first Draco don't understand why Y/N acted like that so he gets angry back at her but then he realises the reason and they make every thing up. Start with rough smut, angst in the middle and end with fluff pleaseee. I'll patiently waiting for you sooo take your time and don't force yourself too much ❤

A/N: I don’t have much to say about this one, I really liked the request, I thought it was really real. Also this takes place after Hogwarts and Y/N + Draco live alone.

Summary: Draco is inconsiderate towards his girlfriend and Y/N is n o t happy about it.

Warning(s): SMUT!!! Unprotected sex, choking, swearing, angst, couple verbally fighting, fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

{Not my gif also it’s so dramatic for this lol}

“That’s it, baby girl, ride my cock,” Draco purred as he gripped his girlfriend’s hips, slowly lifting her up and down on his dick. Y/N whimpered, they’d been at it for nearly thirty minutes now, and her pussy was painfully sensitive. Draco had already eaten her out as well as edged her with his fingers. But there she was, bouncing on his cock, wanting to please him. However, after a few more minutes of her riding him, Draco’s grip grew tighter, and he began slamming his hips upwards, pounding himself deep in her pussy.

“Fuck, Draco,” Y/N moaned as she let her legs go limp. Draco flipped them over and was now on top of her. His hand found her throat, and he held it firmly as his hips snapped into her mercilessly. He grabbed her legs and rested them against his shoulders. Y/N watched as he shut his eyes and let himself go, his pace getting even quicker. Loud squelching noises filled the couple’s bedroom, and Y/N could tell he was getting close.

“Such a good girl for me, my perfect little slut,” he grunted, making Y/N whine. She clenched her fingers in the bedsheets and warned him of her approaching orgasm. “Gonna cum again?” he teased. “Go on then, whore, cum on me,” he coaxed. Y/N closed her eyes and focused on the building pressure in her abdomen. But then, she felt Draco slap her clit and found herself cumming instantly from the stimulation. Draco laughed as she tightened her walls around him and scrunched her face in pleasure. He fucked her through her orgasm as his own was advancing. His thrusts became sloppy. Just as Y/N was beginning to whine about the sensitivity, Draco came inside her with a loud groan, his hips pressed flush against her ass. 

When he pulled out, Y/N quickly realized that Draco hadn’t used a condom. “Fuck baby girl, you look so pretty with my cum dripping from your cunt,” Draco breathed, his breath fanning over her swollen pussy. She wriggled her hips to get away from the cool air emerging from his lips, but then he yanked her close and licked a long stripe up her slit, pushing the semen back inside her with his tongue. A guttural moan left Y/N as she arched her back, the overstimulation sending sparks through her body. When Draco pulled away, Y/N expected him to help her into the shower, but she was wrong. Instead, he patted her pussy and flopped onto the bed beside her. 

“Goodnight darling,” he murmured before slipping underneath the covers and turning away from her. Y/N was shocked. This was rather uncharacteristic of Draco. Not using protection and now going to sleep right after sex. Quite frankly, it made her heart clench, and not in a good way. 

Slowly, she scooted herself off their king size mattress and trudged to the bathroom; the soreness between her legs made this a difficult task. Eventually, though, she got inside and immediately sat on the toilet. After she used it, she turned on the shower and sat back down, waiting for it to heat up. She couldn’t shake the confusion and the hurt from her mind. But ultimately, she decided to push those thoughts away and instead focused on cleaning her sweaty, bruised body. Draco’s always quite rough with her during sex, and she enjoyed it, but he had really done a number on her tonight. Maybe when he sees that tomorrow, he’ll apologize, she thought to herself as she rubbed the loofa up and down her arms.

When she eventually slid back into bed with Draco, she couldn’t help but lay her arm over his waist. Sure he’d been a bit inconsiderate tonight, but Y/N still wanted him close. So she stroked his stomach with her thumb as much needed sleep overtook her.

-----------

{The next morning}

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she yawned; the bright sunlight streaming from their windows was right on her face. She quickly shielded herself and looked to her left. Draco was still fast asleep. Y/N made sure not to wake him as she got up. Once on her feet, the memories of last night returned thanks to the pain between her legs. She hobbled down the hallway and stairs and made her way to the kitchen. She and Draco had no house elves per Y/N’s request, so they had to make their own meals. Y/N decided that today would be an omelet type of day. So she gathered all the necessary ingredients as well as a pan and began crafting the dish. 

While she was flipping the omelet, she heard Draco coming down the steps. She glanced over at him and watched as he settled into the cozy armchairs in their living room, not even bothering to greet her. Anger began to stir, but Y/N shoved it down and returned her eyes to the omelet, which she found was currently burning. “Shit!” she cursed as she quickly transferred it to a spare plate. 

The sound of a soft laugh caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Draco’s smiling face. Usually, this would amuse her, but not that morning. “Shut your trap,” she muttered as she started making a second omelet. 

“Excuse me?” Draco bellowed. Y/N instinctively tensed but held her ground. 

“You heard me. Shut up.” She heard Draco get to his feet and walk into the kitchen. Y/N’s anger was becoming unignorable now. But she kept her lips shut as he leaned on the counter beside her.

“What’s got you in such a foul mood?” he questioned. Y/N snapped, dropping her spatula on the marble countertop. Her head whipped towards Draco and his eyebrows jumped at the fury visible on her face.

“Why don’t you take a wild guess, Malfoy?” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco gave her a look of confusion. 

“Or you could just tell me what’s wrong,” he replied.

“Haha, no, I want you to figure it out.”

Draco couldn’t understand what his lover was getting at, and it was making him grow frustrated. “Y/N, I don’t have the patience for this bullshit; just spit it out,” he argued. Y/N shook her head in disbelief and flipped her omelet. 

“The fact that you won’t even stop and think for a second just proves how selfish you are.” This comment made Draco’s blood boil. He stood up straight and clenched his fists at his sides.

“Well, at least I’m not a fucking bitch like you,” he sneered. Y/N gasped, and Draco immediately regretted his words. He could see shiny tears in her eyes as she hurriedly turned off the stove and transferred the omelet to a plate. “Y/N, I didn’t mean that.” She shook her head and fled the kitchen, not even glancing at him as she stormed away. 

Draco kicked the cabinets, enraged with himself. He’d really done it now. And the worst part was he still couldn’t put his finger on why Y/N was so upset in the first place. Surely it wasn’t because of his laughter when she burnt the omelet. But if not that, then what else? Draco ran his hand through his hair as he began to pace in the kitchen. Eventually, though, he stopped himself, grabbed a plate, and started eating. The burnt texture was pretty awful, but Draco forced it down his throat anyway. 

Now with a full stomach, his head felt clear. He retraced his steps in his mind. He had come downstairs, then sat in the living room; that was it. But then he thought farther back, back to the previous night. And that’s when it hit him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his face into his palms, feeling utterly terrible. Could he genuinely have just gone to bed right after sex? Now that he was thinking about it, Y/N’s neck was littered with love bites this morning, and she had looked exhausted. Yet he had done nothing for her, nothing at all. Draco felt sick to his stomach, and not because of the omelet. Without wasting another second, he jumped to his feet and hastily ran upstairs, but not before taking the second dish with him. 

A knock at Y/N’s door halted her tears. She sighed, not really wanting to face her boyfriend right then, but she still wiped her face and opened the door. There stood her blonde-haired boy, a guilty look on his face. “May I?” he asked. Y/N nodded and stepped back, allowing them into their shared bedroom. He set the plate in his hands on his desk and took hesitant steps towards her. It felt as though remorseful tension was in the air, and for a few moments, neither of them said a word. But then Draco lifted his hand and gently cradled her face, making her look up at him.

“I’m so sorry, love. I should have taken care of you last night instead of just falling asleep. And I shouldn’t have called you a bitch or been rude to you this morning. It was completely uncalled for, and I...I feel like an absolute dick, and I’m just really, really sorry.”

Y/N remained silent, simply letting her head rest in his hands. She could tell he was sincere. “I forgive you. But Draco," she started, "I could hardly hold myself up in the shower, and I really needed you. I wanted to cuddle with you like we usually do. And not to mention the fact you didn’t wear a condom, I could get pregnant…” she trailed off. Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted a family so soon, or even at all. She didn’t think she nor Draco were even close to being ready for such a huge responsibility. But she was pulled from her thoughts by Draco stroking her cheek.

“Y/N, I promise you it will never happen again. You’re everything to me, and I will always take care of you and be there for you whenever you need me. I know I wasn’t last night. Last night I was reckless and a fucking git, but from now on I won't be, I swear it,” Draco declared. His eyes looked fearful as he waited for Y/N to reply. And she did, just not with words. She took a step forward and nestled herself against his chest. Draco immediately wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her scent, feeling at peace, knowing things were okay again. 

“I believe I am due for a cuddle appointment, Dr. Malfoy,” Y/N stated, breaking the silence with her playful tone. She giggled as Draco let her go and dragged her towards their bed. He then scooped her up, making her squeal, before he dropped her onto the bouncy mattress. Her bright smile was irresistible, and he scrambled onto the bed, smashing his lips onto hers. She kissed him back, passionately, happy to be reconciled. 

“Dr. Malfoy shall provide you with the necessary amount of cuddles to cure your ailment,” Draco stated in a funny voice, playing along with the bit. Y/N giggled and reconnected her lips with his, bringing his body close to hers.

And as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, the couple remained on the bed, legs intertwined with legs and fingers clutching palms. Their hearts were content. All was forgiven. And even when the moon took the sun’s place, they still hadn’t detached from one another. They ended up falling asleep like that. And in the morning, Draco carried his girl to the bathroom, pledging to never let her wash alone again. 

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dracosdeathmark @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream @drxcomvlfx @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl @voilawind @gloryekaterina

[wondernimbus]

veritaserum — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

request: Hi I want to request a Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw reader please! a spell gone wrong makes Malfoy can say nothing but the truth throughout the day. Scared but too embarrassed to approach a teacher, he decided to go to y/n instead because she’s the top student of their charms class to help undo the spell but what he didn’t consider is how he would later straight out confess his attraction towards her, going on and on about her hair, her eyes, etc and they just share a heart-to-heart moment

a/n: i did Not proofread this so i apologize in advance if there r any typos!! also i made a v minor change to the req but other than that bon appetit

Someone spiked Draco's morning pumpkin juice.

It would have been really helpful if he'd noticed it before he laughed at Snape's face and called him a greasy git, after which his eyes grew comically wide and and he tried to hurriedly apologize (more out of fear for his parents than Snape)—only for his mouth to tell Snape to "go wash your hair for bloody once".

Veritaserum. Someone put blithering Veritaserum in his drink, and now he can't open his mouth without spitting out several of his deepest, darkest secrets.

"Two points from Slytherin for your uncharacteristic and very offensive behavior, mister Malfoy," Snape had sneered. "I will only tolerate this foolery once. The next time you dare to speak to me like that, I will not hesitate to treat you the same way I would treat any other student."

Draco would have tried to defend himself, but he isn't stupid enough to let another truthful insult slip out by accident, so he'd kept his mouth shut and nodded.

If one were to go into detail, they would tell you about how Draco had tried to ask Madame Pomfrey to help undo the potion's effects only to severely insult the poor old lady's hair, and how he'd also tried to ask McGonagall only to admit the fact that he'd cheated on her transfiguration test two years ago. He has insulted every single person he has tried to talk to so far during the day. He's called Crabbe an illiterate oaf, told a random Gryffindor couple passing by that they look absolutely dreadful together (something that he doesn't really regret blurting out, but he could have lived without letting them know), and admitted to Professor Flitwick that he'd paid someone to do most of his essays.

But if one were to put it simply, they would go like this: Draco is in a dilemma, and he needs help, fast.

Except he has severely offended every single person he has tried to ask for help, and will no doubt do the same for anyone he plans on asking. Draco is desperate. He is halfway through the school day and the effects of the truth serum have yet to wear off. At this rate, he's going to lose all of his friends, as well as lose his teachers' favor.

Draco can't ask a teacher in fear that all of his good grades will slip from his grasp at a single (honest) insult. He can't stick it out for the rest of the day, either, because when he spends too long a time not talking to anyone, it seems that the truth potion grows impatient and starts making him blurt out a bunch of his innermost secrets.

He has already shouted "I peed my pants when I was eight" in the Great Hall; there is no time to waste.

Potions class comes around right after breakfast and brings with it the inevitable need to face Snape again. Uncharacteristically enough, Draco doesn't swagger into the dreary dungeon classroom. Instead, he keeps his head down as he perches himself on his usual seat right—which is, of course, right in front of Snape's desk.

When the last of the students have filed in and Snape closes the dungeon door shut to begin the lesson, he makes sure to fix Draco with a long stare; one that Draco only holds for several seconds before he sniffs and casts his eyes away to look at his desk instead. You'd think that a Potions master would be able to tell when someone was under the influence of a truth potion—but then again Snape might also have known, but was too offended by Draco's jab about his hair.

He looks up sometime along the lesson and catches sight of the light reflecting off of Snape's greasy hair; well, Draco had been telling the truth.

For today's lesson, they're tasked to brew some sort of calming draught. Draco can't entrust Goyle—his partner—to even as much as get the name of the potion right, so Draco shoots the poor boy a familiar scowl and proceeds to do everything on his own. But Draco is no Potions expert, so instead of the faint lilac hue the liquid inside their cauldron is supposed to have turned into, it becomes a violently bubbling pink substance.

"Four slices of the bat spleen, mister Malfoy, not five," Snape drawls, peering down at Draco's cauldron through his hooked nose. "And you have been too heavy-handed on the lavender. Shame. I expected better."

Draco suppresses a sneer. Snape usually never points out his mistakes—that sort of treatment is reserved for other houses. Snape, it seems, took his insult to heart, the greasy-haired bloke.

Feeling severely irked, Draco slumps down in his seat, folds his arms over his chest, and stops trying entirely. He may be acting like a sulky five-year-old but so be it because Draco is not in the mood. He has humiliated his own self far too many times in one day (and been humiliated by Snape approximately ten seconds ago)—he wants this day over, fast, and with any luck, the Veritaserum out of his system by the end of it.

But he can't see how, so Draco does the only thing that he can do to help himself: he keeps his mouth shut.

The annoyance on his face shows as he surveys the dungeon room with a sour glare. Stupid Potter and Weasley are laughing over something at their shared table; why isn't Snape telling them off? Bloody slimeball. How dare he even speak to Draco like that? It's not like Draco lied. He has never seen anyone in such dire need of shampoo as Snape.

Draco shoots the back of his head a nasty glare from where he's standing all the way on the other side of the room, looming over a table of two Ravenclaws. One of them looks bored and the other seemingly immersed in potion-making; her movements are quick and precise as she pours one ingredient after the other into their cauldron with the same kind of effort Draco would put into making his afternoon tea—like what she's doing is an absolute piece of cake.

"Sit up, mister Corner," says Snape curtly, voice echoing throughout the dungeon and ceasing all chatter as he fixes the bored-looking Ravenclaw with a stony gaze. Draco recognizes him now—Michael Corner, some annoying half-blood he shares a few classes with. As for the girl beside him.. Draco tries to angle his head to see her properly, but her head is bowed over her cauldron and her hair blocks her face from view. "If you think you'll be getting the same outstanding grade as miss [Y/L/N] without even as much as lifting your pinky finger, then I assure you, you are terribly mistaken. I do not tolerate free riders."

[Y/N]. Draco knows her. Some Ravenclaw he has several classes with but has never spoken to—the one with the pretty eyes, Draco vaguely recalls himself thinking at one point, back when he'd first laid eyes on her. And truth be told her eyes are pretty; a lovely shade of [Y/E/C] that Draco has only seen up close once or twice.

But that is hardly the topic of concern, because if Draco turns his head just the right way and sits up a little straighter, he can see that the liquid inside of her cauldron has turned a glossy shade of faint lilac, which, according to the instructions written on the board, is what is exactly supposed to happen. [Y/N] finishes faster than anyone else, even Hermione Granger, and Draco sees Snape give her an appraising nod before moving on to criticize some other innocent student.

So it seems Snape isn't the only Potions expert in the room.

He perks up a little in his seat and fixes the Ravenclaw girl—[Y/N]—with a discreet stare out of the corner of his eye. [Y/N] sits down properly in her seat so that Draco gets a good view of her face (not a bad-looking one, an annoying little voice says inside his head). She hasn't even broken out in a sweat—it seems that potion-making isn't as difficult for her as it is for other people. Draco pictures the truth serum in his veins quivering in fear (although physically impossible) because he is pretty certain he's found the answer to his dilemma.

The rest of the class passes by annoyingly slow—or at least for Draco—because it seems like ages until Snape finally dismisses them for lunchtime. Draco just about jumps right out of his seat and strides straight towards [Y/N], who is currently in the process of stuffing her books inside her bag.

Draco clears his throat.

She turns around, and he's suddenly reminded of why he'd dubbed her as "the one with the pretty eyes", because she truly does live up to the name. Her eyes are strikingly [Y/E/C]; even the whites of her eyes look like they're tinted with gold. He finds himself incapable of speech for a brief moment, but then she raises her eyebrows and offers him a grimace of a smile, and Draco is back to himself again.

He opens his mouth to say "brew me something that'll stop me from blurting out the truth every bloody second" but instead what comes out is: "I've never spoken to you before but that's mostly because I have an irrational fear that I haven't quite admitted to myself yet which is that I'm scared of talking to pretty girls in fear that they'll reject me and my pride will be in tatters."

There's a split-second in which Draco stands there, his own words not having sunken into him yet, and then his face slacks.

[Y/N] stares at him, evidently baffled. And then she opens her mouth, eyebrows furrowed in apparent bewilderment, and says, "Um," she swallows, forcing out an awkward laugh as she takes a step back. "Wow. Okay. Thank you..?"

If Draco had been thinking straight—if he hadn't been so flustered and if he wasn't rushing to take back his words—he would have probably paused, realized that talking would have made the situation worse, and left. But Draco is flustered and he isn't thinking straight, so instead he opens his mouth to take his words back only for the following words to leave his mouth in a rapid burst: "Your eyes are a really lovely shade of [Y/E/C] and you have a beautiful smile and I've never heard you laugh before but I bet my inheritance that it's one of the loveliest sounds to ever exist."

[Y/N] looks flabbergasted more than ever. She doesn’t even look flustered—just utterly confused. For a few seconds, all she does is stare at him, frowning.

And then, looking as though she wants to thank him but not entirely sure it would be appropriate, her gaze darts away from his momentarily before she purses her lips. Excruciatingly slowly, she repeats, “Your.. inheritance.”

Draco grits his teeth.

Apparently there are several truths that the Veritaserum in his system thinks appropriate to reveal to [Y/N]—truths that even he hadn't been fully aware of. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again. At that moment he catches sight of the quill and parchment in her hands that [Y/N] had been in the process of stuffing into her bag; hurriedly, he grabs it from her (much to a surprised [Y/N]) and begins to write down the following words (seriously, why hadn't he thought of this before?): accidentally drank truth potion, brew me a remedy.

He practically shoves the parchment into her hands. Still looking wildly confused, she takes it from him with the cautiousness of someone being handed a firecracker. Her eyes dance across the words on the paper for no more than two seconds before she looks back up at him; realization slowly floods her face and her eyebrows rise even higher as she mouths, mostly to herself, "Truth potion."

Draco nods, eyes darting around the classroom. most of the class has already left. Snape is at his desk, fixing the two of them with a frosty stare. When Draco meets his gaze, Snape flicks his eyebrows up at him and asks, in that same drawling voice Draco despises today, "I was under the impression that lunch time meant all students had to be at the Great Hall."

Draco's brain doesn't operate well when he's annoyed—that's something he's realized today. Against his better judgment, he opens his mouth to sneer a retort without even pausing to think about the fact that he might blurt out some other offensive truth, but [Y/N] cuts him off and says, "I'm sorry, professor, but Malfoy's asked me to help him with homework and I thought it'd be nice to help him." She stuffs the piece of parchment into her robe and side-steps Draco so that he's not blocking her from Snape's view. "Would it be okay if we stayed here for lunchtime?"

Snape's lip curls in apparent amusement. Staring at Draco, he drawls, "That’s quite convenient. I had been thinking of assigning mister Malfoy a tutor; it seems he's been having trouble holding his tongue—alas," his mouth twists into a sneer, "I meant potion-making. Forgive me."

And then he heads to the dungeon door, leaving Draco behind to stare at his greasy head on his way out.

[Y/N] purses her lips, cheek twitching with the threat of a smirk. "I’m guessing you've offended him somehow? Veritaserum and all?"

Draco opens his mouth again—really, remembering to keep it shut is easier said than done—and instead of the reply he'd been intending on saying, what slips past his lips is: "Has anyone told you you're one of the prettiest—"

"Okay!" [Y/N] 's eyes widen and she rushes to clamp her hand over Draco’s mouth, looking actually flustered now. "Okay—stop. Just.." Slowly, she pries her hand away from his lips, movements cautious, and Draco stares at her, body completely rigid as he registers the fact that they're a mere few inches away from each other and she'd just put her hand over his bloody lips. And this is the first time they've ever spoken to each other.

"I’ll brew you the remedy," she says, grimacing. There seems to be a hint of a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks, but that could just be because the dungeon lighting is poor. She turns on her heel and makes her way to the ingredients cabinet all the way on the other side of the room, calling over her shoulder to Draco, "Just sit tight there—and keep it zipped before you say anything you don't mean."

The last part she says in a quieter tone, but Draco catches her words anyway and he finds himself thinking that maybe he did mean them.

Because [Y/N] is pretty—prettier than most. She’s not breathtakingly beautiful, but there's something about her that seems to have always drawn Draco, though he might not have ever thought much of it. Maybe it's why he always finds himself staring at her whenever they come across each other in the hallway. Maybe it's why he'd thought of asking her to the Yule Ball last year, but chickened out at the last moment.

He leans on the desk, arms folded across his chest whilst watching [Y/N] rummage through the ingredients cupboard. A moment later she turns around bearing an armful of different potion vials.

Draco means to ask her if she needs help carrying them (because yes, he may regularly be a prick but he has common courtesy). Instead, the Veritaserum still inside his bloodstream urges him to say, "I wish I’d asked you to the Yule Ball last year instead of Pansy."

He freezes.

At that moment, Draco swears to himself that he will inflict pain onto whoever poured Veritaserum into his pumpkin juice. He will have his revenge—no matter what it takes—and although he hasn't quite figured out how exactly he'll be doing it, all Draco knows is that he will.

He can't bring himself to look at [Y/N] any longer, so he plays it off by picking up a book on the desk he's leaning on and rifling through it. It only takes him a moment to realize that it's [Y/N]'s; her name is written across the bottom of the cover. Almost every page Draco flips through has tiny scribbles written in-between the lines—countless of notes, it seems, but so many of them that the actual text is almost indiscernible. Draco almost snorts. [Y/N] seems to be the quintessential Ravenclaw, if he has ever seen one.

She sets down the potions onto the desk, Draco still flipping through the pages. "I’d ask you how you accidentally drank Veritaserum," she says casually, "But I don't want you fawning over me even more than you already have."

Draco glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s in the process of uncorking two of the vials, both of which she pours into the now steaming cauldron. Whatever, he thinks to himself, rolling his eyes in an effort to convince himself that he's not embarrassed (even though he totally is: he's bloody blushing).

But then again, whatever. He’s totally not flustered. Totally.

Draco reaches the final few pages of [Y/N]'s Potions textbook without having even registered most of the ones he'd flipped through. The last two pages, like every other book, are completely blank save for the—

Draco's eyebrows furrow. There are drawings of all sorts on the back pages of her textbook, from cauldrons and brass scales to places in the castle that Draco recognizes.

But what has him most intrigued is the faces, all drawn so vividly and with so much detail they look as though they had been brought to life on paper. Draco sees Snape’s deprecating sneer and Michael Corner’s familiar face of boredom, sees Hermione Granger with her brows knitted together at the middle as she leans over her cauldron, Ron and Harry with their heads bowed over a piece of parchment—and then he sees himself, arms crossed over his chest as he fixes something with a stony gaze. But the more Draco’s eyes explore the pages, the more of himself he sees. There’s him slicing what looks like a dragon heart, scowling at someone that looks like Goyle, and another one of him smirking—

And then the book is snatched from his grasp by none other than [Y/N] who looks wildly panicky. "You—I—" she blubbers, gaping at him for a moment before whipping around, turning her back on him as she stuffs the book into her backpack. "How much did you see?"

Slowly, a grin breaks out on Draco’s face. "Enough," he says—and apparently it's the truth, because it's what he actually meant to say. A little surprised, he tries his luck again and means to say so you draw? But instead what leaves his lips is something so excruciatingly blunt and embarrassing part of him wants to dive under the table and hide there for the rest of his life: "I’m assuming because you've drawn me more than anyone else that you find me attractive so I’m going to go ahead and thank you for that, but unfortunately you're a half-blood so I might have to get my parents' permission before I think of asking you out."

A moment of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the antidote bubbling. Draco has to physically suppress himself from diving straight into the cauldron and never coming back out.

[Y/N] scoffs a little, uselessly fanning her face with her hand like doing so will somehow rid her of the blush on her cheeks. Draco grits his teeth and fixes his gaze on the stone floor, refusing to meet her gaze.

She clears her throat in an attempt to quell the sudden burst of suffocating awkwardness now resting between the two of them. Not quite looking at him, she peers into her cauldron and mutters, "I just like to draw all sorts of things. People, as you've seen," she adds, pressing her lips together abashedly. Draco watches her out out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching. "And I don't find you attractive. You just have.. a nice face. For drawing, I mean. It comes out nice on paper."

Draco’s eyebrows flick up of their own accord. He has a nice face. Are those butterflies he feels in his stomach, or is it just the Veritaserum?

It takes no more than a minute or two of silent awkwardness before the antidote is finally finished brewing and [Y/N] pours it into a small vial, which she hands to Draco.

Draco eyes it skeptically, holding the vial up to the light and swirling it around a little. It definitely doesn't look pleasant; a stark contrast to the clear hue of Veritaserum, the antidote is a murky brown in color and vaguely reminds Draco of mud and manure.

You expect me to drink this? Draco means to ask, but instead says, "You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen."

And just like that, Draco, exasperated and embarrassed out of his mind, uncorks the vial and takes a large swig.

The feeling of the liquid sloshing down his throat is an unpleasant one; he coughs a little, face scrunching up with disgust as he swallows down the last of the antidote. But not long after the vial is emptied, a tingly feeling spreads from his fingertips to his entire body and has him feeling weightless for a few moments before it fades and Draco feels normal again.

He sets the vial down on the table, rubbing his throat. When he looks up, he sees [Y/N] already cleaning up, throwing away the empty glass vials and emptying the cauldron with a single flick of her wand.  She’s taking all of her things and shoving them into her bag, and Draco watches as she slings it over her shoulder and makes for the door—

“You’re leaving?” says Draco without really thinking about it. “Already?”

She stops in her tracks and turns around, already a few feet away from him. Eyebrows raised, lips twitching up at the side just the slightest bit, she shrugs. “Well, yes,” she purses her lips. “Was there something else you wanted me to brew?”

Draco’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. “No,” he says hastily. But he hadn’t been expecting her to leave so soon—not after his, ah, countless confessions.

What had he been expecting, though?

“Well, I’ll be going now,” [Y/N] says slowly, a little awkwardly, gesturing to the door. Draco watches her as she takes a backwards step away from him—but he knows a chance when he sees one, so he blurts out, “D’you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Her eyebrows rise even higher as a genuine look of surprise floods her features. Draco doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s onto, but whether or not he regrets it is entirely up to [Y/N]’s answer.

She lets out a breathless laugh, looking dubious. “You’re being serious?”

Draco stares at her for a little while—Merlin, she really does have pretty eyes—and then he shrugs a casual shoulder, nodding.

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but there's still that hint of a faint smile resting on her lips. Draco finds himself wishing he’d see her do it more often—in front of him, and not halfway across the classroom. She feigns a look of contemplation, tilting her head at him, now full-on smiling in a manner Draco thinks might be playful. (Alright, those are definitely butterflies in his stomach.) "And what d'you have to offer?" she asks him, eyebrows raised.

It’s Draco’s turn to narrow his eyes at her, unable to suppress the tiny smile that slides across his face. He pauses to think about his answer first, all the while holding her impish gaze, before finally shrugging and saying, "My company. And not everyone gets to enjoy that," he adds as an afterthought, and it's true—Draco is very picky with who he graces with his presence.

But then [Y/N] replies, "Well, not everyone gets to enjoy mine, either," and her tone is almost challenging. Draco, for some reason, finds himself on tenterhooks. Something about her is drawing him in; he can't quite decide whether it's her coyness or her eyes. Likely both.

Severely amused, he leans on the desk and inclines his head a little towards her. "So would you do me the honor of blessing me with your company this weekend?”

There’s a beat of silence—this time not at all awkward—as they stare at each other, a sort of tension between them that Draco finds himself enjoying. And it's a blessing that she breaks it because if it had stretched on for any longer Draco would have lost himself in her eyes completely; “Alright. Sure. No harm to it,” says [Y/N] with a light laugh, nodding.

Draco’s lips break out into a grin and he nods, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Maybe you can tell me more about your drawings. Well,” he pauses, brows raised teasingly. "Drawings of me, to be specific."

She lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes, but she's laughing. "Okay—and maybe you can tell me about how much you love my eyes."

Draco’s face falls. [Y/N] grins, beginning to walk towards the dungeon doors. "I’ll see you around," she sings, and her back is turned but Draco can hear the smile in her voice. Just before she disappears into the corridor, she pauses at the doorway and looks back at Draco, and her eyes are positively sparkling. "Try not to get lost in my eyes too much. Wouldn’t want you tripping over yourself."

With one last playful grin, she leaves the Potions classroom.

And while, just a few minutes ago, Draco had been prepared to get revenge on whoever put Veritaserum in his pumpkin juice, now he feels like thanking them.