#foody goody

[actuallysaiyan]

My Cinnamon Girl

warnings: smoking, general fluff pairings: Older!Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Fem!Barista!Reader summary: Kento is your regular customer and one night when he really needs you, he ends up finding you outside smoking and you offer him some pastries. a/n: For the amazing JJK writing Event, Foodies and Goodies created by the wonderful @tsukimefuku! This fic is very inspired by Smoking Behind The Supermarket With You and I was very much encouraged lovingly by April(@kentocalls) to write this and I'm so pleased with it!

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly

@namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa

@darkstarlight82 @melisuh123. @galactict3a

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@strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @jay220a

@fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget @senseifupa

@aleigant @gigiculona. @rahuratna

He always took this route to get home. It was his favorite way to get home. Not only that, but it made it so he’d always pass by his favorite bakery. The coffee was exquisite and the pastries brought him straight to heaven. 

Kento Nanami didn’t regret never going back to the sorcerer’s life, but sometimes he wondered if working in stocks was really the best for him. Too late to change his mind, as his 45th birthday was nearing and he knew that he didn’t have too long to work now before he could fully retire.

The little bakery was his relief. Kento looks forward to it every single day. Even on his days off, he goes to that bakery. He loves to eat breakfast there. He enjoys sipping on coffee while looking over paperwork. And the thing he enjoys the most there…it’s you.

You with your sweet smile, your soft voice and calm demeanor. You’re the person who always makes his days brighter. Even when his boss is on his ass, he knows that seeing you will be the bandaid his soul needs. So every day, he walks to and fro work and passes by the bakery where you work.

One day, he makes his way there after a long day at work. He’s completely exhausted. The only thing that makes him feel good in this world today will be to see you. He wants to see your smile before he heads home for the evening. After this long day, it’s the only thing he can truly say would heal him.

And yet, when he enters the bakery, he notices you’re not at the counter. He sighs and loosens his tie, approaching the counter to greet the older woman who works there.

“Good evening, okyaku-sama!” she calls to him, beckoning him over.

“Good evening, can I get a loaf of sourdough bread and a cup of green tea?”

She nods and gets started on his order. He already knows how much it’s going to cost him, so he pulls out a few bills and some coins and places them on the counter. He’s disappointed that you aren’t here tonight, but he thinks he’ll be able to survive. 

“Here you are! Do you have your points card?” the elderly barista asks him.

“Oh, yes, here you are.”

Kento hands her the points card, and she’s not privy to the sad look on his face. He comes every day, sometimes multiple times a day and it’s mostly to see the young barista who is her favorite coworker.

“She just got off,” the elderly barista explains. “If you hurry out now, she’s probably outside having a smoke.”

Kento’s cheeks and tops of his ears burn, “W-what…?”

The elderly woman laughs, “The young woman you come here to chat up. My coworker? She’s probably outside smoking in the smoking section.”

Kento’s heart flutters and skips a beat. He takes the cup of tea and loaf of bread from her, thanking her for her service. The elderly barista laughs softly, ushering him outside.

He makes his way out, finding you exactly where your coworker said you’d be. You’re sitting on an overturned crate, a tired look on your features. Something about this warms Kento’s heart. He knows he’s not the only tired person in this world. You work hard; he has seen it first hand.

An unlit cigarette balances on your bottom lip. You seem to be spaced out, not really paying attention to anything. Kento notices a few pastry boxes near where you sit. He comes closer to you, smiling down at you. A lit lighter appears in your view.

“Could I light that for you?” he asks.

You gasp softly, the cigarette nearly falling out of your mouth. Kento gently cups your chin to steady you and he lights the cigarette.

“Thank you,” you whisper before exhaling.

Kento procures his own cigarette and lights it up. “My pleasure.”

Neither of you know what to say for a bit. He takes a sip of his green tea, sitting next to you and he smiles. It’s a comfortable silence.

“You’re my regular, aren’t you?” you ask him, smiling at the older man.

He blushes once more, “Am I this obvious? Even your coworker knew who I was…and she made sure to tell me where you were.”

You mutter a curse under your breath. Damn that older woman…putting her nose in your love life.

You chuckle softly, taking a deep drag from your cigarette. “I mean,” you blow out the smoke. “You come here multiple times a day.”

Kento’s eyes widen, “I like the coffee! And the pastries!”

You can’t help but laugh even more now. He was so cute. Quite a bit older than you, but you always liked that in a relationship. You move a bit closer to him, opening up one of the pastry boxes.

“Since you love the pastries so much, why not try this? IT’s a new pastry I’m working on for the cafe.”

Kento’s hands shake as he reaches into the box and pulls out a flaky little pie looking thing from the box. It’s tiny and has a gooey looking center. He puts out his cigarette, bringing the small pastry to his lips. The first bite is exquisite. He unknowingly lets out a moan of joy at the flavor. Gooey cinnamon and butter and nutmeg and…

“That good huh?” you ask, flicking your cigarette.

Kento nods, mouth still full of pastry. “Amazing! Please tell me you’ll be selling these in store!”

You smile. “Well I might just because my favorite customer just complimented me.”

Kento swallows the last bite, his cheeks still red. He never knew just how nervous and shy you made him feel. He looks at you seriously, his mind whirling with a million thoughts. You put out your cigarette, leaning in to kiss his cheek softly.

“If you liked that, why don’t you come to my place sometime and I can bake for you?”

Kento’s at a loss for words, but he manages to say one thing. “S-sure!”

You take out your phone, thrusting it into his hands. “Put your number in my contacts.”

Kento’s hands feel so shaky as he puts his number into your phone. You can’t help but smile at him. Both of you have the biggest crushes on each other and it’s only now that you finally get to make your move.

“Great! So if you’re not busy now…” you suggest, a grin on your face. “Why don’t you walk me home? I can pay you with pastries.”

How could Kento say no to that?

[goldenwolfen]

Here she is, my Macaraccoon! love how this turned out! She certainly loves her big pile of macarons and macaroons <3

Original and prints are now available here!

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

My "Batter" Half

A/N: Written for @tsukimefuku's foodies and goodies challenge. Coming out of a bit of a writing slump with everything going on atm, so I hope this doesn't disappoint.

Pairing: Nanami x Fem! Reader (Desi reader coded)

Rating: E, safe, fluffy, cute

Word Count: 897

Nanami sits on one of the barstools at your kitchen’s island watching you bustle around getting all the grains the recipe called for. 

“Sweetie, I only asked if it was possible sometime this week. You don’t have to make it for me right away.” 

You shush him, pushing your hair out of the way as you measure the Sona Masoori rice, flat rice, and fenugreek, throwing them all into a large baking bowl and hefting the bowl towards the sink, adding in enough water so that a thin layer covered all of it. You cover the bowl with saran wrap and place it away on the countertop. 

There was no question that you loved cooking for Nanami, but something in you glowed when he asked for South Indian food. There was a regular rotation in what the pair of you cooked but when he asked for masala dosa, you melted inside, all of your senses kicking into high gear to feed him what he craved. It was comfort food for you growing up, and it meant the world to you that he had grown to love it too. 

He knew the effort it took, an almost 2-day process just to make the batter, so he didn’t normally ask for it. The first step was done, letting the grains ferment overnight in water. You wash your hands and join him at the island. 

“It’s no trouble at all Kento. Anything for you.” You rest your head against his shoulder, a soft sigh emanating from him as he puts an arm around you. “Hopefully it’ll be all nice and soft tomorrow. Then I’ll run it through the grinder to make the batter and it’ll have to sit overnight in the oven, so don’t plan on baking anything tomorrow.”

He chuckles, the soft vibrations felt against your hair. “Roger that. But you still didn’t have to get started so immediately.”

“You rarely ask for anything. I couldn’t resist.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next day morning, you check the bowl, pleased to see all the components have fluffed up and taken in as much water as they could. You begin to set up the little grinder that would change the grains into batter, carefully placing the rod mechanism attached to two 5-pound stones into the apparatus. Once in place, you switch it on, and carefully begin adding the grain mixture in between the two stones, adding water to help it along and adjust the thickness. Once all the rice has been put into the contraption, you sit and wait, watching the batter form, checking it for smoothness and ensuring the grain wasn’t clustering into lumps. 

You salt the mixture well and then cover it again with saran wrap, then place it inside the oven, where the added humidity would help the batter thicken and rise, making for the fluffiest dosas. 

Kento wanders downstairs, ready for work in a crisp shirt and tie, eyes taking in the scene in the kitchen. “Someone was up early today,” he observes as you start disassembling the grinding machine. You give him a pleased smile and carefully set the heavy stones back into the box they belonged in. 

“Had to. The earlier I start the process, the quicker it’ll ferment. Who knows, maybe even by tonight if we get lucky.”

Nanami smiles tenderly and pulls you into a hug. “Whenever honey. I’m just glad you took the time to make it.”

You kiss him tenderly before he leaves for work.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day has finally arrived. You check the oven and almost giggle from the delight of seeing the fluffy batter resting in the large bowl. It was ready.

As Nanami slept in, a rare luxury he could only afford on weekends, you begin prepping the dosa filling, throwing the potatoes into a pressure cooker, while chopping onions into half-circles. Once the pressure cooker whistles 3 times, you take it off the flame, waiting for it to cool, before mashing the potatoes. Deftly, you heat the oil in a large wok, tossing in mustard seeds, green chilies, and black lentils for tempering. Once they start to sizzle, you throw a few curry leaves on top, the pleasant crackle bringing a smile to your lips.

The onions and potatoes are tossed into the wok and mixed with a pinch of turmeric, and some cilantro. A fragrant scent fills the kitchen as you set it aside and get ready to make the dosa. A ladle dipped into the fluffy batter, then spread thinly on a greased pan, going in concentric circles from the middle until it starts to heat up and harden, becoming crisp. You scoop some of the onion potato filling and place it in the center, allowing the dosa to harden a little longer before folding it in half and placing it on a plate. 

You’re about to start the second one when Nanami wanders into the kitchen, still in his pajamas. 

“My nose woke me up,” he says good-naturedly, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You sigh contentedly, laying down the batter for the next one as Nanami breaks off a piece of dosa and tucks into the filling. He chews and swallows, savoring the spice.

“Delicious,” he whispers, and your heart swells with joy, his appreciation the only thing you needed. 

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[fattybattysblog]

Good Enough to Eat 🍦 Mahito

Written for the JJK Foodies and Goodies event made by @tsukimefuku

OC/Mahito (M/F), NSFW 18+, 1.5k words

Tags:

Inappropriate use of Food and Cursed Techniques

Temperature Play

Fingering

Cunnilingus

Mahito

"I didn't think you'd be one for sweets," Hairi said, sitting beside Mahito on her couch and handing him a cone. Mint chocolate chip—her favorite and the only flavor she had on hand. He lounged in the corner of the couch, an arm draped over the back while he propped a leg up on the cushions. Hairi sat at the opposite end, keeping her distance.

There was music constantly playing in her home, set to a low volume to act as a soundtrack to her life. It was playing calm lo-fi as she went casually about her day, as per her routine, but it was now horribly out of place. Nothing about the situation matched the tune and it grated on her nerves.

"I'm not one for food in general, but I get curious," Mahito shrugged, holding the cone over his face as he leaned back, letting it drip onto his tongue. Hairi grimaced and looked away, hoping mint ice cream would clean easily out of linen.

Hairi watched him, tense. His presence was not a pleasant one. How he was able to get in without her noticing was unknown. Surely she should have sensed his arrival. But if he remained civil, she would. She wasn't equipped to fight a Special Grade on her own, but she could be hospitable at least.

"What do you want?" she asked, a bite in her tone. Mahito never visited without a catch, and they both knew it.

He ignored her for a while, watching the green soft serve slowly melt. After catching another drop, he looked down at her and grinned.

"Can't I just visit a friend?" he asked slyly.

"We'd have to be friends first," she grumbled.

Mahito's laughter echoed through the room, a sound that made Hairi's skin prickle. He sat upright and rested his arm on his knee.

"Touché," he said, licking another drip of ice cream. "But, you know, we're not so different. We could be friends."

Hairi raised an eyebrow. "Friends don't usually show up unannounced and uninvited."

"Isn't spontaneity the spice of life?" he leaned forward, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Besides, I think we both know there's more between us than just animosity."

She scoffed, taking a defiant bite of her own cone. "In your dreams."

"Actually... in yours," he purred, his gaze lingering on her lips.

That made her pause. She turned her gaze down to the floor. Maybe it was just some lucky guess, but the thought that he might actually know about her moment of weakness against her own mind made her fidget. She was alone that night... as far as she knew.

"You intrigue me, Hairi. Always so guarded, yet here you are, sharing your favorite ice cream with me," he hummed like some sort of gotcha.

"Only because you showed up out of nowhere," she retorted, shaking her thoughts off. "It's not like I had a choice."

"There's always a choice," Mahito said softly, his tone suddenly serious. "You could have turned me away, but you didn't. Why is that?"

Hairi hesitated, the question catching her off guard. She looked down at her cone, the mint green starting to blend with the chocolate in a messy swirl. She wasn't a strong sorcerer, but her ability could have gotten her away from him, she knew that. But she didn't flee. He appeared here and she didn't bother to leave or tell him off or anything. Her phone was in her pocket, she could have called Nanami. Fear was never the feeling inside her. Not once.

"Maybe I was curious too," she admitted in a small, nervous whisper.

Mahito's smile widened. "See? We're getting somewhere."

"Don't get your hopes up," Hairi warned, though the edge in her voice had softened. "This doesn't mean I trust you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Mahito replied, shifting closer. Hairi's breath hitched as he closed the distance between them. His presence was magnetic, a dangerous pull she couldn't entirely resist. She was already at the far end of the sofa, moving away pressed her more against the armrest and bent her backward.

"You're infuriating," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

"And you're delightful," he countered, his voice a low murmur. Hairi was too focused on the closing distance between them to notice the large mint glob dropping onto her shirt. She yelped at the sudden cold, grimacing at the mess.

"Good enough to eat, really," he snickered.

Before she could respond, Mahito's fingers brushed a stray lock of magenta hair from her face, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. His eyes locked onto hers, a challenge and a promise all at once.

His hand trailed from her face down to her shirt, dragging a finger through the cream mess and licking it off of his finger. He took her shirt off, leaning down to lick clean the remaining ice cream from between her breasts. Hairi shuddered, her face blooming red with blush.

Mahito allowed his treat to drip all over her, taking hers from her hand and smearing it along her neck. He created a second set of arms to undress her completely, leaving her bare beneath him to spill the cold mint cream on. Her breasts, her stomach, her legs, all covered in cold dapples that made her shiver and whine. Her nipples perked from the cold and goosebumps prickled her skin. He held her still, tongue exploring her flesh as his second set of arms caressed her, kneading her thighs.

Her noises were soft, a hesitant gasp at each warm press of his tongue on her skin. The mint and the cold making her tingle along side the echoes of his touch with every caress.

Gentle. Achingly so. Mahito was an enigma, certainly. Hairi could never predict what he'd do next. Though she did daydream once... or twice about an encounter like this, she always assumed she was being too hopeful imagining something soft and sweet. But here he was. Gently lapping at the mint cream he dappled on her pale skin.

A cold set of fingers suddenly pressed her clit, making her gasp and tense. They circled her, rubbing her slow before dipping into her moistening slit and returning to the circles. Hairi squirmed, unable to control the noises that escaped her as he pressed and kneaded her sensitive button. He pressed his palm into her, pushing a pair of fingers deep inside and thrusting them. Gradually, they warmed, the shudders and goosebumps falling away as she melted into his touch. She closed her eyes, grinding desperately into his hand.

The dapples of mint cream eventually came to an end. Mahito snaked around her to clean every last drop, not once faltering his pace. The second set of hands were put away and he ceased his caressing, his torso elongating to wrap around her and hold her in place. Hairi struggled slightly, unable to loosen his grasp.

"Aw, All gone," he hummed, slithering further down her body and pushing her thighs open. Hairi's leg dropped off the side of the couch and her struggles only made the snake more interested. "Looks like I'll have to start eating something else."

Mahito purrs, lulling his tongue out of his mouth and lapping at her wetness. She stifled her moans, focusing on trying to unravel him from around her.

"What are you-?"

She was stopped by a sudden and rough intrusion. His tongue pierced her, thickening and writhing deep inside. It pressed and massaged her walls, forcing itself all the way to her inner wall and making her cry out loudly. The writhing pressed all her buttons, his grip tightening on her until she could barely move more than bucking into his mouth. She couldn't keep quiet if he tried, moaning, whining, she felt hot all over. A coil wound itself in her core, tighter and tighter while he tongue fucked her roughly.

"You've always wanted this, haven't you? Fantasizing about me all night... touching yourself," he chuckled, gliding his teeth over her thigh as he teased her. "Did you imagine your little fantasies would come true so easily? I know you'll only crave more."

Mahito bore sharpened fangs, pressing his teeth dangerously against her skin until he was satisfied with her trembling. Not too far yet. Scaring her off so soon would ruin his fun.

Hairi yelped and whimpered as his tongue prodded her walls, bullying her sensitive spot until the coil finally snapped and she fell apart. Her pussy clenched on his tongue, her body tensing and arching as a shuddering gasp escaped her. He pulled away. Hairi was thankful for a chance to finally breathe in peace, but he refused to let her go even now.

Mahito pulled her underneath him, his hair falling around his face and making a bunched curtain of messy gray strands. There was an intensity in his eyes. Wild, feral, hungry.

"I can give you much more~" he held her face in his hands, licking her juices from his lips. "All you have to do is bind yourself to me."

I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE, YEESSS

Taglist: @strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @Jay220a @suguru-nugget @senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona @rahuratna

[sikfankitchen]

Spider Peanut Butter Cookies for Halloween! 🕸️🍪

[848ellie]

Would you let me have the last pickle? 🥒💚 That final bite has all the crunch I need to satisfy my late night cravings. The dill flavor hits just right, and it's a delicious treat perfect for snacking when hunger strikes. Pickles are a true foodie favorite that makes snack time feel special.

[gent-illmatic]

[viejospellejos]

¿Hay hambre? 🍝

[goodiegodmother]

Homemade Oreos Recipe https://ift.tt/PlzTsV8

[honoratacarnage]

makin' brownies!

who wants to lick the bowl?

[talkprettytome]

@misscatixo

[pmpmyread]

Bento Box Blunder

A/N: My last-minute entry for the JJK Foodies and Goodies challenge created by @tsukimefuku! Pairing: Kento Nanami x Female Reader Summary: You’d always admired Kento Nanami from a distance, even harboring a small crush on him, sentiments you’d only allowed yourself to indulge within the safe sanctuary of your discretion. Then one day, you stole his lunch. Content tags: SFW, fluff, gratuitous mentions of food. Read on AO3

The day you stole Kento Nanami’s lunch distinguished itself with an unusual spike in cursed spirit activity, resulting in a flurry of briefings, prep work and drop-offs for auxiliary managers such as yourself.

You’d just returned from one of said drop-offs, hastily grabbing your packed bento from the break room fridge, slumping onto the first bench you found by the campus greenhouse. A pang of hunger now gnawed at your empty stomach, outweighing your fatigue in the process.

You finally opened the box, finding an arrangement that was more akin to what one would find in an artisan catering box, in the form of a ground chicken, scrambled eggs and spinach meticulously layered atop a fluffy bed of steamed rice. An appetizing meal, no doubt.

Only it was not yours.

You swiftly replaced and re-opened the signature lacquered elm finish lid, as though the action would magically replace its unfamiliar contents with the meal you’d diligently prepared the night before.

You groaned as the realization dawned on you: in your fatigued stupor, you had somehow managed to mistakenly take off with one of your poor colleagues’ lunch. As if on cue, a buzzing notification on your phone confirmed that you wouldn’t have the time to return to the staff room and rectify this in time for your next briefing.

After suffering through the remainder of your extended shift, combatting both fatigue and hunger, you finally made it back to a now  mostly empty fridge, with your original bento box nowhere to be found. Still a bit scatterbrained from the eventful day, you desperately attempted to process the meaning of all this. Had your colleague taken your lunch in exchange? Had it even left your home in the first place?

“You must be the culprit returning to the scene of the crime.”

You turned to the source of the distinct voice, and found yourself face to face with none other than Kento Nanami.

Prior to this moment, your interactions with the Grade 1 sorcerer had been limited to the occasional greeting politely exchanged as you ran into each other within the campus’ common areas. He kept mostly to himself and you pegged him to be a serious, no-nonsense guy.

And you had robbed him of his lunch.

“I am so sorry, I totally got our boxes mixed up!” you meekly replied.

“I don’t fault you, I can now see how that would occur,”  he stated, bringing up a lunch box that matched the one you were still holding, lightly tapping them together before drawing his gaze back up to you. “After all, these are identical.”

You’d always admired Nanami from a distance, even harbouring a small crush on him, sentiments you’d only allowed yourself to indulge within the safe sanctuary of your discretion. Now however, you suddenly grew aware of his stature as he towered over you, of his softer-than-expected demeanour and of the large calloused fingers that held onto your bento box.

Get it together, you thought to yourself, in a desperate attempt to centre yourself back to the exchange at hand. He spoke before you got the chance to do so.

“I was mostly curious to learn the identity of the talent behind this homemade meal. Did you make this?”

“I did, last night,” you reply cautiously, still taken aback by his compliment and its implications. Had he tasted your cooking?

As if reading your mind, he clarified, “I did of course leave your meal untouched, tempted as I was not to, but I couldn’t help but wonder what the sauce was made with, if you don’t mind sharing? It has a lovely aroma I was unable to place.”

This certainly was not the direction you’d expected the conversation to turn.

A flutter of excitement replaced the pit in your stomach, as you described the steps in making your spicy peanut sauce recipe, a dish you’d learned from your mother and had since committed to memory. Nanami occasionally cut in with clarifying questions, borne out of what you now discerned to be genuine interest.

This went on for a few minutes, until one of your colleagues popped into the room to grab a stack of reports, an interruption that served as a natural stopping point to an otherwise passionate conversation.

Nanami handed you your original box, stacking it onto the one you were carrying before tugging on the latter in a maneuver to trade with you. Possessed in a moment of boldness, you tightened your grip on his box in resistance, the movement inadvertently caused your fingers to brush, resulting in your breath hitching ever so slightly as you lifted your head up to meet his now inquisitive gaze.

“I could bring you some if you’d like,” you offered.

“Pardon?”

“Let me make you lunch? I was going to make a fresh batch today anyway. I’ll bring it tomorrow? It’s the least I can do, to make up for today.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you’re able to register the thrill of a boldness that surprised even yourself.

He ponders this for a few seconds before finally acquiescing.

“Let me clarify that you absolutely do not owe me anything, but if you insist, and only if you promise you’re not going out of your way…”

“Promise, it’s no bother at all!”

That evening, you replayed the surreal interaction in your mind as you meticulously prepped, cooked and packed for your two lunches.

The next day, he graciously accepted your offering. The delightful micro-expressions that lit up his face as he savoured the fruits of your labor more than made up for the previous day’s ordeal.

Less than a week later, Nanami prepared a bento box of his own to share with you - a novel and delicious take on a chicken and egg oyakodon, that he remixed by way of adding some of the spices you’d shared in your own recipe, resulting in a fusion of both your cuisines, a gesture emblematic of reciprocity that was decidedly bringing the two of you closer. In the following weeks, without explicit consensus, you slipped into the weekly habit of taking turns preparing lunch for each other, eating together whenever your schedules allowed for it.

It did not take long for you to realize the extent to which Nanami was a foodie, and a very opinionated one at that. His otherwise reserved demeanour disappeared momentarily, if only for the duration of lunch time, an openness you easily matched, elated at the privilege to break up what were otherwise long and often draining work days in such good company.

Culinary themes easily dominated your lunchtime conversations as you broached upon everything from tastes to flavour profiles to fusion cuisine to kitchen equipment. Slowly, surely, and unwittingly, you both peeled back your layers over the comfort of your delectable shared meals.

Eventually, your discussions veered into other topics. On one particularly busy spring day, Nanami had left you his contribution to the shared meal of the week in the break room fridge: maple barbecue chicken with a side of glazed sweet potatoes, a stark departure from his usual, savoury rice-based meals. He’d informed you that he would be unavailable at your usual lunch time as he’d be working a later shift, and as such you’d planned to eat alone. As it happened, your tasks had pushed you to take an exceptionally late lunch.

You hadn’t expected to spot him alone, sitting on a bench by the training grounds, in a deeply pensive state.

You had half a mind to leave him be but your feet took you to him, and you seated yourself next to him at his quiet invitation. You thanked him for the lunch, and he expressed that he was glad you enjoyed it. You weren’t unused to comfortable silences in your conversations, but this one carried an unusually heavy charge.

After a while, he finally spoke. “It was my best friend’s favourite dish. He died 10 years ago today.”

Over a shared sweet dish that had once bonded two young optimistic best friends, you took stock of a depth in his eyes that appeared to broadcast a silent internal war struggling to break through to his surface as he unpacked the consequences of the perils that inevitably came with the nature of your duties. You listened as the 7:3 sorcerer reminisced on tender memories that punctuated his childhood friendship with Yu Haibara, like how this maple glaze had first tasted too sweet to his liking but eventually grew on him.

The day you were assigned on your first mission together tested many of your preconceived beliefs. The team consisting of Nanami, Ino Takuma and yourself as support, was assigned to a standard exorcism mission. In theory, you knew that the two of them were more than capable of handling it. And yet, somehow, something about your proximity to Nanami as he was about to cross the curtain you’d just raised made the dangers feel more real than ever.

Right as you whispered an inaudible word of caution, Nanami turned to you with a small nod and a reassuring smile.

In that very moment, it came to you more as a shock than a surprise that you no longer regarded him as just another colleague or friend.

That you had completely fallen for him.

The mission went without a hitch and was even completed far ahead of schedule. Ino left ahead of you, leaving you with Nanami who pointed out that you were  a short walk from one of the bakeries he had recommended you, and suggested you have lunch there.

You learned that the appetizing casse-croûte ordered at his recommendation had been a chance discovery, the outcome of a desperate quest to replace a favourite treat that had been discontinued during his former corporate days. You bantered over a philosophy he shared about the tolerance for life’s little despairs being a hallmark for adulthood, to which you playfully countered that the appreciation of creature comforts was more important.

“I will concede that this particular little despair may not be the best example, seeing as it eventually led me to my new favourite bakery.”

“Exactly, it’s called serendipity, Nanami. In a similar way, it was the little despair of mixing up our lunch boxes that led my enjoyment of this delightful casse-croûte!”

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “You’re citing a situation where your own mistake led to your own benefit. I don’t think your logic holds.”

“Okay, sure. But all in all, aren’t you glad it happened?”

He dropped his gaze, fixating on the remainder of his coffee for a moment, before raising it again to meet your eyes, his expression indecipherable.

“I am,” he finally replies, quietly.

You took a bite to conceal your reaction, convincing yourself that you had gotten carried away and had been too forward, that you were feeding into your own delusions, that you should dial it back.

A few days later, Kento Nanami proved you wrong, by formally asking you out to dinner.

The reservation he’d secured for your first date was at a new dandy restaurant you’d seen advertised and had been eager to try out, on their highly coveted opening night, no less. However, the promise of a “memorable 5-course experience” quickly revealed itself to be little more than puffed-up TikTok fodder, all hype and little substance, as evidenced by the tiny portions of subpar meals.

You brushed off the situation as being more comical than disappointing, a sentiment Nanami was unable to bring himself to mirror at first. It was only long after leaving and several attempts to convince him that the burden of such a questionable choice rested squarely on you, having been the one to fall for the establishment’s deceptive marketing that he finally loosened up, eventually joining you in laughing it off. Together, you took turns in delivering scathing critiques and commentary on the experience, turning the ordeal into a nice humorous moment that stretched long after he’d parked back in front of your apartment.

Not wanting the evening to end just yet, you invited him up, and over what you later coined to be ‘redemption ramen’, the two of you candidly chatted until the early hours of the morning.

Some months later, over a truly memorable 5-course meal, this time of his own creation, you agreed to become Kento Nanami’s wife.

On the tail end of a particularly hectic week, you'd sensed that your fiancé could use a break. So when the young Yuuji Itadori approached you, practically begging you to convince ‘Nanamin’ to agree to let him show off his signature homemade meatballs, you jumped at the timely opportunity.

And thus, the three of you found yourselves in Kento’s kitchen that very evening, an occasion that granted you a front-row seat to the lovely bond that had formed between the two. You observed as Nanami seamlessly switched between the roles of mentor and student, diligently following Yuuji’s instructions, all the while using the exercise to dispense kind lessons in patience in response to the teen’s intermittent bursts of ardor.

Over a warm meal consisting of spaghetti and homemade meatballs, as you watched the man before you offer earnest congratulations and praise to his beloved mentee, who, in turn, proudly beamed with radiant joy, you couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful a father your future husband would be.

You hadn’t realized the reverie you’d been lulled into through the monotony of your continuous stirring movement until the gentle voice of your now-husband snapped you out of it.

“Darling? Are you listening?”

The two of you were in the middle of cooking together, in a moment of much anticipated domesticity that closed out an otherwise chaotic week. You had just moved into your new marital home a mere few hours ago. Boxes were still sprawled around the living space. While ordering takeout would have been the wiser choice given the circumstances, you’d both agreed to indulge in your common craving instead - a hearty homemade beef stew.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I was saying that I forgot to get some paper plates. We’d have to unearth the dinnerware from god knows which box, which I don’t think either of us has the energy for. I’ll run out and buy some.” he trailed off.

“Oh wait, I believe I may have just the thing!" you exclaimed as you handed him the reins of the spoon "Take over for me?” He watched as you sauntered towards a discarded reusable bag sitting by a pile of boxes, fishing out a pair of matching bento boxes that you’d insulated from the chaos of packing for this very occasion.

“You don’t mind using these, do you?” you asked, holding them up like trophies.

He returned your smile with a warm one of his own. “Not at all.”

Special thanks to @tsukimefuku for creating the challenge that finally pushed me to post my first JJK fic!

Thanks to @positive--space for helping me with the visuals!

Taglist: @strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @Jay220a @fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget @senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona @rahuratna

Thanks for reading! 🩵 | See my Masterlist

[savagebeautyqueen]

Yesterday’s lunch.

Crispy Duck with jasmine rice, seasoned egg and bok choy. & Thai Iced Tea

📍MISC; Brooklyn

[jamesabelc]

Coco Mama Boracay

January 2023

[healthyandfreshofficial]

Experimenting in the kitchen tonight! 🍽️ Tried a new recipe with succulent paneer cubes and added a twist with some canned goodies. 🧀🥫 Can't wait to see how it turns out!

[earn-and-learn-with-nanaz]

Sweet & Savory Ginger Haven

Ingredients 4 cups all-purpose flour 1 ½ teaspoons baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda 2 teaspoons ground ginger 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg ½ teaspoon salt ½ cup unsalted butter, softened ½ cup granulated sugar 1 cup molasses 1 egg 1 teaspoon vanilla extract Assorted candies for decoration Steps Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C) and line a baking sheet with…