#no not the octopus aroma
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I assure you, you do NOT want to smell like an octopus
#smell-o-vision#cephalopod#octopus#please god no#no not the octopus aroma#oh god it's in my nose#nooooooo
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Could I request Azul, Silver, and Jamil with a baker reader?
What If Their S/O Was A Baker?
Type of Writing: Request
Name: What If Their S/O Was A Baker?
Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Silver Vanrouge, and Jamil Viper
Requester: Anonymous
A/N: This is slightly shorter than my average piece, but I have like 6 other requests to get through so, bite me😑
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🐙 As we all know, Azul loves to eat sweet foods. It falls into the category of unhealthy foods (which he loves) vs healthy foods (which is canonically his least favorite)
🐙 When he had first seen you bake, he had come back from a housewarden meeting and smelled both a sweet and a more fungal-like scent lingering in the air, and that mix made him slightly fearful but more curious
🐙 He had walked into Mostro Lounge's kitchen and saw that you and Jade were cooking together while Floyd sat down and slept at the counter
🐙 You had looked up from the cookies you were frosting to look like small underwater creatures such as stingrays, clownfish, sea slugs, and even a small bundle of eels like Floyd and Jade, and smiled
" Azul! Come here, I made you something a little bit ago! You came right on time too, it's still a little warm. "
🐙 Walking up behind you, you had reached into a basket with a sea-shell printing that Azul had gifted you a couple weeks prior for your personal usage, and you had pulled out a small cookie
🐙 But not just any cookie, one that was molded at the bottom to look like small tentacles. And as if led upwards, it began to form a small body, the body of a slightly purple and blue octopus
" Since I was making little sea creatures and I thought that you'd be tired from the meeting, I figured I could make you something to heighten your mood! "
" Well, you did your job well, my Pearl. "
🐙 Before Azul could actually take a bite of the baked good, you had shook your finger in a 'not-so-fast' way and lifted the rest of the basket's cloth, revealing a small litter of baby octopus in various positions. One even was spilling ink!
🐙 Chuckling at the gesture, Azul laid the sweet inside the basket and hugged you before kissing your forehead with delicacy
" I love you, Y/N. "
" And I love you, my little octopus~ "
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⚔️ Let's be honest here; Silver definitely falls asleep when the aroma of your sweets enter his nose. No doubt.
⚔️ Whenever you had started baking and your boyfriend began to catch a whiff of the baking items, he would close his eyes and begin to let his mind wander as his eyes began to close
⚔️ But, when you had baked while he was out training, you had taken a small bag of them outside and noticed that he was sitting on a bench, sleeping of course
⚔️ He wouldn't be your boyfriend if he didn't catch his 29th nap of the day
⚔️ Holding the bag as you smiled at the silver-haired male you called yours, you heard your name being called out by a familiar voice; Lilia Vanrouge, Silver's adoptive father
" Y/N~ I just so happened to notice that you have a bag of delectibles. If I may ask, who are they four? They better be for my son. "
" They're for Silver, I noticed that his naps seemed to be getting in the way of having literally any kind of food in his stomach, so I decided to just make these and have him get something in during a break in training. "
⚔️ Looking at your resting boyfriend, you chuckled;
" Though, it seems I was a hint late for that. "
⚔️ Lilia smiled and thanked you for considering his son's meals in balance with his training, as he held that in high regards. And as he floated away to train Sebek for the time being, you laid the treats in your boyfriend's bag and kissed his forehead before walking away
⚔️ Unbeknownst to you, Silver had opened his eyes once you left and smiled. What did he ever do to deserve such an amazing S/O as you?
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🐍 This guy. This guy- he literally does everything in his dorm. And it drives you insane whenever he has to start rushing around to bake and cook for a surprise party that Kalim decided to throw
🐍 So, when you had spoke to Kalim and learned hours prior, while Jamil was away grabbing stuff from down the mountain, Kalim got news that one of his siblings was dropping by and he wanted to throw a party
🐍 And at that party, he wanted a lot of baked goods. His sibling, he said, had a very large sweet-tooth
🐍 You took this opportunity and told Kalim that you were going to bake up some stuff and wanted some recommendations from the person closest to the guest, making him smile and ramble for a little while
🐍 So, when Jamil came back into the dorm and smelled a strong scent of sugars and spices, he had thought that Kalim tried cooking again... or maybe Lilia came back to destroy his kitchen
🐍 Speed-walking to the area in particular, Jamil stood in shock seeing you wearing Scarbia-branded oven mitts as you took out a small tray of freshly baked pistachio baklava
" Y/N? What are you doing in here? "
🐍 When you smiled at him and told him that you had taken care of all the long-time desserts and began to time the long-time main courses and sides for the impromptu party for the Al-Asim sibling, Jamil both sighed in annoyance at Kalim and he slightly chuckled at your appearance
🐍 You had flour on your pants and some batter on your face with frosting and a few sprinkles, and seeing the normally clean you look like such a mess made him laugh. This must be why you laugh when you visited him in the kitchen week prior during the last large-serving party of Kalim's
#Twisted Wonderland#Twst#Octavinelle#Scarabia#Diasomnia#Night Raven College#NRC#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#Twst x Reader#Octavinelle x Reader#Scarabia x Reader#Diasomnia x Reader#Night Raven College x Reader#NRC x Reader#S/O! Reader#GN! Reader#Azul Ashengrotto#Azul Ashengrotto x Reader#Silver Vanrouge#Silver Vanrouge x Reader#TWST Silver#TWST Silver x Reader#Jamil Viper#Jamil Viper x Reader
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Trick or Treat 👻 👉👈
One night, Eddie wakes up and Buck isn't in bed. It's weird— he usually half wakes up in the middle of the night and Buck is always there, cuddled around Eddie like a fucking octopus.
It's something he's gotten used to pretty quickly. So when he wakes up, and Buck isn't there, Eddie feels cold.
He sits up in bed, yawning and running his fingers through his hair as he blinks slowly to fully wake up. "Buck?" He rasps out, voice low and gravelly. "Babe?"
There's no answer and the light of the bathroom is off.
Eddie frowns as he gets up, walking put of the bedroom— The floor is cold against his barefeet and he hisses slightly but after a few seconds he gets used to it.
Halfway down the hallway, he starts smelling this heavenly chocolatey aroma floating in the air and—
Eddie finds Buck in the kitchen. Baking.
At like, 2:00 AM.
“Couldn’t sleep and was craving brownies,” Buck says quietly as he cuts a slice and hands it to Eddie across the table when he sees him approach. His cheeks are pink and his hair is all messy and soft looking— His eyes, though, are tored and red rimmed.
Eddie looks down at the brownie before looking back at Buck with a confused and concerned look. "What's going on? Talk to me, babe."
"It's just— Ugh." Buck rubs his hands on his face and shakes his head. Eddie waits him out, giving him space and time but refusing to leave him alone. "I don't know. The call today, it hit me hard."
Eddie doesn't have to ask which one. They had a call today with a kid— he was fine in the end but the parents were clearly negligent and couldn't care less.
Buck has been fuming, red in the face and with such an intense stare that Eddie almost believed he could pulverize those people on the spot out of sheer will.
"I know." He sighs.
"Maddie, she, uh—" Buck gives a small and fragile smile. "When my parents were out of town or out at parties and I couldn't sleep... she would take my hand and guide me to the kitchen. We would prepare brownies dough and eat all of it— We would get sick for days after that," Buck chuckles weakly. "So yeah, probably not the best. I figured making the brownies would make me feel better and instead of eating the dough—"
"You'd be normal and actually bake them."
"Yeah." Buck snorts and shrugs. "Sorry I woke you up, though."
"Don't apologize." Eddie shakes his head, getting up from when he had sit down and walking around the counter, embracing Buck in his arms. "I love you."
Buck hunches slightly and hides his face on Eddie's neck. "Love you too."
#underwater-ninja-13#evan buckley#buck x eddie#buddie#eddie diaz#buddie fic#911 fic#april writes#911 abc#911 on abc#april gets mail 💌
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Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Menstrual Comfort
Image drawn by me, specifically for this fic ♡ if you like this fic feel free to send a request or let me know if you want more
Synopsis; Eddie breaks into your apartment to help you with your period symptoms. Fluffy and wholesome, no sexual interaction.
Reminder: Eddie wants you to part take in self care ♡
You look at the time on your phone and groan. 1pm and you’re still exhausted, awoken by the gnawing pain in your lower stomach. You pout as you grasp at the bed sheets, pulling them up to your chin, cuddling into them.
You hated being unwell and taking any time off of any kind of productivity, but your body ached to stay in bed today. Blinking in the morning sun rays through the curtains, you mumble profanities. In a sleepy haze you notice a glass of water with ice cubes still floating on the surface. Sitting up quickly you wonder if someone broke into your apartment.
“Relax sleepyhead” a deep soothing voice chimes from your bedroom door frame “cursing out the sun now?” He smiles playfully.
“And my ovaries” you comment, picking up the glass of water gently into your hands. It was so fresh and cold that the water condensed on the outside, dripping a little onto your bed sheets. You didn’t care though, your parched mouth and chapped lips eagerly sipping.
Eddie makes his way over from your door frame, holding your favorite pink octopus mug. He wears his normal Hellfire tee with dark ripped jeans, decked out with his accessories. His metal rings make a quiet dink against the ceramic mug as he readjusts his grip upon the steaming beverage, stepping carefully as to not spill it.
“How did you get in?” You ask sitting back against your pillow. Since the last time Eddie broke in you were making sure to close and lock the windows, lest any thieves get the same idea.
“Smashed in the window in your door and reached in to unlock it” you rolled your eyes but you welcomed his humor.
“I found the spare key by the plant on the porch” he admitted, holding the mug down to you.
"Gotta find a new hiding place for it" you replying hold out your hands carefully accepting the beverage. The mug was filled with steaming yellow liquid and had a peppery sweet aroma.
“What’s this?” You ask.
“You texted me in the middle of the night you were having bad camps” he says sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with warm brown eyes that have an edge of concern. “I came by to make sure you were ok since I didn’t hear from you this morning.”
He moves a hand to your leg, squeezing it slightly and the gesture sent tingles through your body. He went all this way here to make sure you were okay?
You take a sip of the hot liquid, letting the warmth spread down your body. Ginger with lemons, you note.
“How did you know that it was good for cramps…?” You ask and Eddie looks at the ground shyly.
“I, uh, saw a bunch of tea in your cupboards” he says embarrassed. “I googled what’s good for cramps” he mumbles afterwards, looking away.
You can’t help but smile at his effort, this man worked so damn hard to make you happy. You wondered how in fact he could be real despite sitting right in front of you. You’re interrupted by the curdling pain of your stomach and excuse yourself.
“I, uh, bathroom” you mumble shyly.
He nods and reluctantly moves his hand off your leg, moving out of the way so you could stand. You immediately miss the warmth of his body, but quickly make your way to the bathroom so you could be back sooner.
Once you’re back you notice your bed is made but with the sheets pulled back for you to hop back into. Not only that but there's a glass of orange juice on the table, with a container of Midol and a breakfast sandwich from your favorite take out place. You waste no time sitting on the bed and taking a bite out of your breakfast. You wonder where Eddie went and the sound of water running in the tub answers your question.
He re-emerges not long after you hear the water stop running “I hope you like it, I stopped by for food the way here. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got you what you had the last time we went.”
You think back to the lovely Saturday morning date you had with him, the same day he made it in through a window the first time. Him pulling open the curtains while you groaned at him, not wanting to get up. The sky was blue and the sun was shining, he coaxed you up and out of bed with promises of a yummy breakfast. The spring morning smelled of fresh melting snow as you sat together outside the restaurant. You refused to admit it to him but you enjoyed it, just watching people walk by on the cobblestone path while you ate in each others presence. Birds sang and people chattered while you laughed to yourselves about whatever goofy thing Eddie had come up with. Afterwards you ventured to the old record store Eddie loved, picking out a new one for you both to listen to.
You smile finishing up the last of your meal, snapping back to reality. “I love it” you reassure him “dare I ask what you were up to in the bathroom?” you smile.
He shrugs leaning against the door frame “I ran you a bath if you felt up to it” he folds his arms clearly nervous looking down, making your heart pound. “If not I mean I’ll take one” he laughs to diffuse his own nerves, playing his goofy voice up “bubbles and everything” he regains his courage to look at you. He was always shy to admit how much you meant to him, you thought it was quite adorable.
You go to his side giving him a large hug catching him off guard. Quickly though he hugs you back, running his thumb along your waist.
“Yeah, yeah” he murmurs, not wanting to accept praise.
“Thank you, really” you smile.
“Go take your bath before I do” he winks and you shake your head, smacking his butt before moving to your wardrobe.
You pick out fresh new pajamas and underwear and venture to the bathroom, pleased to see Eddie has lit a candle even. You leave the door unlocked and open just a crack but he sits on the floor outside to give you privacy.
Stripping down you let yourself sink into the bubble filled tub. The hot water swirls around your body, soothing the aches and cramps. You sigh, relaxing back taking in the scent of warm vanilla.
“You didn’t have to do all this for me” you speak, unsure if he’s still there.
“I know but you deserve it.” He pauses for a moment “I don’t like seeing you in pain” he whispers. You imagine him fumbling nervously with his rings as he usually does when he talks about his feelings, an action you've grown accustomed to and found endearing.
You smile, splashing the water slightly as you shift your weight.
“The world doesn’t deserve you” you murmur low enough for him to not hear.
“Did you want me to wash your hair?” He asks and you accept.
He walks in cracking his knuckles “hairdresser Eddie on duty, welcome to your spa day” he says while kneeling down by the tub to shampoo your hair.
“What experience do you have as a hairdresser, bathing a dog?” You ask while he lathers your hair, sending relaxing sensations over your body.
He laughs “I did actually. A neighbor's dog. This is a muuuch much better experience" his deep voice purrs over the word much to your delight.
“I can see why you’re a cat person” you say while he rinses the suds out of your hair.
“You know me, I’m more of a demon person” he scoops up some bubbles from the other end of the tub and attempts to make two horns on top of his hair with a matching beard.
You giggle, forgetting your bodily discomfort for even a moment while taking in the rest of the bubble bath. He graciously scrubs your back with a wash cloth and you joke around and splash until the water turns colder. You shoo him out so you can get dressed and dry your hair, feeling refreshed and recharged.
Returning to your bedroom, you’re pleased to see him waiting there in bed for you. On the bed also lies a hot water bottle looking full. Gladly you join him, snuggling close to his chest under the comfort of warm clean bed sheets.
“Your toes are freezing!” He stammers as you try to warm them against his.
“This is revenge for the hand incident” you think back to him using your breasts to warm his hands on a cold day, chasing you around your apartment with an evil grin. Begrudgingly he obliges this time, pulling you closer to him.
“You really didn’t have to do all this you know” you whisper as he turns the tv on, flipping to Netflix turning on your show. He holds the hot water bottle up to your lower stomach, nuzzling his face into your shoulder lovingly.
“I know” he kisses the top of your head “but I did because I want to and you deserve it. You deserve the whole world.”
#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#comfort fic#fan fiction#fan fictions#fan fic#fan fics#menstrual comfort morning em
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Crocodile x Reader 🩷 [Town Date]
Warnings: none
Artwork credit: @SaadoVO
I'm just gonna be using 'the reader' to refer to you folks! I'm far too lazy to do [NAME] each time you're mentioned...
It's so difficult to capture Crocodile's dialogue to perfection, but I'm doing my best!
Anyways, enjoy this fluffy scenario~!
Under the golden rays of the setting sun, the vibrant market came alive with colors, scents, and the symphony of voices. Crocodile and the reader weaved through the bustling streets, their personalities contrasting yet harmonizing in their own unique way.
The reader, a vision of vibrancy, stood beside Crocodile with an air of curiosity and enthusiasm. Their eyes, sparkling with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, roamed the market's eclectic offerings. Soft sunlight danced upon their hair, casting a gentle glow that complemented their radiant smile.
Crocodile, a towering presence, exuded an aura of authority and mystery. His rugged features and steely gaze hinted at the untold stories that lay behind his enigmatic persona. The corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly, betraying a rare sense of intrigue and interest.
As they passed by the array of stalls and vendors, a symphony of scents enveloped them. The reader's nose twitched with delight as the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pastries, sizzling meats, and exotic spices mingled in the air. They couldn't help but let out an excited gasp, their senses awakened by the delectable fragrances.
Crocodile's gaze shifted towards the reader, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. His broad shoulders shook ever so slightly, a deep rumble escaping his chest like distant thunder. It was a peculiar laugh, more of a "Ku ha ha ha..." than a conventional expression of mirth, yet it held an enigmatic charm that captivated those around him.
Glaring at Crocodile, the reader pouted, their cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Ignoring Crocodile's laughs that resounded in their blushing red ears, they tried pulling his attention elsewhere.
"Let's try this one!" Their finger pointed towards a bustling takoyaki stand, where a chef expertly cooked the savory octopus balls, flipping them in a hot griddle with finesse.
"What kind of dish is that?" Crocodile inquired, his voice resonating with a low, commanding tone that demanded attention. His question hung in the air, wrapped in a shroud of mystery and curiosity.
The reader's excitement bubbled over as they described a tantalizing dish that had caught their eye—a culinary masterpiece known as the Pirate's Platter. Their words flowed with passion and detail, painting a vivid picture of flavors and textures that seemed to dance upon the tongue.
Intrigued, Crocodile's gaze lingered on the dish, his interest piqued by the reader's animated description. With a calculated motion, he reached out, his fingers deftly plucking a morsel from the platter. The tantalizing aroma filled the air as his taste buds were enveloped in a symphony of flavors.
As the reader watched with bated breath, time seemed to stand still. Crocodile's eyes widened ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. His lips curled into a smirk of genuine satisfaction, a testament to the unexpected delight he experienced.
"Not bad," he acknowledged, his voice resonating with a deep gruffness tinged with genuine satisfaction. "You might have some taste after all."
A flush of pride washed over the reader as they witnessed Crocodile's reaction. The warmth of validation spread through their being, like a gentle caress from the sun itself. "Wow, that's the first time you've ever praised me!" they managed to say, their voice carrying a mix of relief and joy.
"That's quite the accomplishment for you." Crocodile's shoulders shook once again, a rumbling laughter escaping his chest. His deep voice resonating with an undeniable charm. It was a laugh that defied expectations, embodying the essence of his enigmatic nature. The sound, like the rolling waves of the Grand Line, reverberated through the air, captivating all who heard it.
The reader couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before them—the towering figure of Crocodile, his shoulders shaking with laughter, and the warmth of the setting sun casting an ethereal glow upon their surroundings. In that moment, everything felt heightened, as if the vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and scents converged into a single moment of connection.
Their usual inclination to confront Crocodile's teasing had momentarily slipped away, replaced by a desire to bask in this extraordinary connection. The vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and scents merged seamlessly, enveloping them in a sensory symphony that defied words. Every detail, from the animated laughter of Crocodile to the gentle caress of the evening breeze, was etched into their consciousness.
With a shy smile and a fluttering heart, the reader's gaze met Crocodile's, their eyes locking for a fleeting instant. It was a wordless exchange, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between them—a shared appreciation for the extraordinary, a recognition of the unexpected connection that could be forged amidst the chaos of their respective journeys.
And so, they continued their leisurely stroll through the bustling market, their laughter and conversation intertwining with the symphony of the surroundings. The reader's senses drank in every detail—the vivid colors of the market stalls, the tantalizing scents that enveloped them, and the gentle breeze that carried whispers of adventure.
～ 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
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October Almost-Drabbles 10/7: Apple
Pairing: Cherik
Word Count: 535
Additional tags: “modern” setting, otherwise unspecified AU, no powers, canon disabled character, author is not Jewish but an attempt at keeping kosher was still made, tooth-rotting fluff (as per usual)
Side note: any info about kosher meats was obtained via Google. If it’s not right (or if the mentioned preparations aren’t okay), I apologize. Like I said before, I’m trying not to put TOO MUCH planning or forethought into these drabbles, lol. They were almost going to talk about eating squid and octopus before I thought to check.
Also I know the whole giving teachers apples thing hasn’t been in style in a very long time. I don’t even remember people doing it when I was a kid. It’s an alternate universe, man - just go with it!
Random fun fact: Honeycrisp apples were patented in 1988!
———
The first day of the school year, Charles’ desk was practically covered in apples. Some red, others green, some marbled with yellow. All were perfectly ripe, without bruise or blemish, and filled his classroom with a delicious, fruity aroma. Even the other teachers, who received a few apples of their own, were mildly jealous of the affection Charles’ students had for him.
A bit too much affection, in some cases. More than once he had to gently tell a student that, while he appreciated their regard, there were several reasons why their relationship had to remain purely professional. Such as their age, and the general inappropriateness of such a thing. And there was also his husband, who found the sheer amount of apples Charles brought home every year an endless source of amusement. Plenty for cider, for pies, for baking, or any other different permutations the two of them could conjure.
“Next year you should ask for some Honeycrisps,” Erik said that night as he stored the bags - and bags and bags - of produce.
“Got a few recipes in mind, have you?” Charles teased. With relative ease, he moved himself and his chair around their table, setting out plates and silverware.
His husband shrugged. “Not really. I just rather enjoy them. And there are so few chances these days to indulge.”
“Who would have thought you’d have the sweeter tooth between us?” There was a wine bottle on the counter. Charles took it down and brought it to the table. Excellent vintage, he thought. All that remained was the meal itself. With that in mind, he maneuvered himself out of the wheelchair and into one of the dining seats. Just in time for Erik, finally sans apples, to set the steaming dish right down in the center of the table. Charles thought it smelled absolutely divine, and said as much.
Erik blushed, though he would have denied doing so if asked. “Just an old family recipe tonight, Charles. Nothing special.”
“Anything you make for us is special, my love.”
Before going to his own seat, Erik leaned down to kiss Charles, his own way of silencing the compliments. Though he took pride in his work, Erik still couldn’t help how giddy he got from his husband’s praise.
Charles smiled as they parted. “Except,” he looked thoughtful, “for that albacore tartare from a few months ago.” His stomach growled angrily at the reminder. Sometimes, Erik’s culinary experiments were a bit too ambitious for his digestive system.
Erik grimaced. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
“Not any time soon.”
They both laughed at that. At the very least, the memory was a pleasant one, even if neither had been very happy at the time.
Sometime later, after their bellies were full of roasted meat, veggies, and wine, and they were curled up together on the sofa, Erik squeezed Charles closer, dropping a kiss to the hair of the lightly dozing man.
“I love you,” he said. Charles mumbled out a reply that might have been a returned sentiment. Might also have been gibberish. Either way, Erik was satisfied.
Almost.
“Charles,” he murmured, somewhat deep in thought, “how do you feel about… baked haddock?”
#October drabbles#cherik#apples#so much fluff#Charles is a good teacher#imagine his desk piled high with apples#lol#Erik likes trying new recipes#and while his culinary skills are excellent#they’re not perfect
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The Hells Hath no Fury like a Todd Scorned
Navarr’s dreams were odd. Not odd in the sense that tentacled horrors were reaching from the ceiling to grab him, but oddly mundane. He was sitting at a table in his dream with a veritable smorgasbord of barbecue in front of him. And a lovely human woman he'd met at the Harbor Market was cooking for him, spearing a thick steak to turn it over on the grill with a satisfying tsssss as it seared. His nose tickled with the smell of the charred meat; a pleasant aroma. But as time passed in his dream, the woman failed to turn the meat and it progressed from rare to medium to well done and beyond, the meat turning black with a slow rising cloud of acrid smoke curling up into the air. The smoke tickled his nose again and again insistently and a cough rolled out of his throat. The smell was overwhelming now, much more than one would expect from a small steak. He looked down and realized dimly that he was on fire, and the woman was on fire, and as she turned to smile placidly at him, her face was melting off her skull. His arm was aflame; it was a searing, biting pain. He screamed.
And woke up. And let out a hacking cough. His shadow octopus was clinging to his upper arm in terror and biting him *hard.* The smell of smoke was real and present in his apartment. With a heart-thumping sense of urgency he threw off his covers and thanked the gods he'd worn pants to bed that night. As he slipped down the hallway with his pet dangling from his bicep, the smoke got stronger and thicker and he had to grab a towel and hold it over his nose and mouth.
And there standing in the living room, face lit by hellish dancing orange flames, was Todd the murloc, and he held a bottle of whiskey in his hands that he was about to throw onto the couch that was aflame and being rapidly consumed by the second. He coughed, blearily.
“Todd?! You unmitigated, unrivaled, utterly repugnant piece of shit! What the hell do you think you're –” He stopped short as Todd raised the bottle. “No. No. Put it down. Don't you even - “
Todd raised his arms to throw. And Navarr leapt to tackle him, sailing through the air and landing heavily on the small creature. It hissed beneath him, the bottle clattering from its hands and rolling across the floor. Then it sank its teeth into his forearm and he yelled and rolled off. His shadow octopus flung its tentacles open and threw itself over Todd like a net, and the murloc stumbled to its feet, flailing its arms in an attempt to get the octopus off. “Mmglrrb!”
Navarr clutched his bleeding arm and looked around for something to capture him in. He grabbed a wicker laundry basket and dumped the clothes out, holding it upside down as he stalked the blinded murloc. “I'd rather throw you out the window, but Maeskia would be very disappointed if I did that. So you're coming with me, you demented arsonist.”
He cornered the murloc and slammed the basket over the murloc and octopus combined, which pissed off the two of them together. With an inhumane wail, Todd made short work of the basket, ripping it apart. The octopus levitated away in a hurry, having done its good deed for the day. In that moment, Navarr realized he needed to deal with the fire first, because his eyes and throat were stinging. He turned and realized the fire was quickly spreading to the wet bar.
“Oh fuck.” He barely had time to squeeze out as the row of bottles burst and scattered fire on the rugs, wall and coffee table. The paintings of demure women, and the painting of Maeskia and the unknown golden elf slowly curled up in the heat of the flames, scorching then distorting the canvas as it melted.
It was quickly becoming hopeless. Luckily, Navarr didn't have much to lose. He had few belongings and didn't bring anything here besides the clothes on his back. Everything else was the unknown apartment owner’s.
Navarr looked around for Todd. Apparently the murloc was satisfied that things were going properly awry and he stood in the corner, gibbering contentedly to himself. Then he looked at Navarr and opened his mouth, hacking like a cat with a hairball, and a soggy pickle slowly rolled off his tongue and landed on the floor with a wet plop.
Navarr stared for a few moments, then took the towel he had dropped earlier and lunged again. He wrapped the towel tightly around the murloc like it was a misbehaving cat and decided to flee. Coughing and squinting his eyes against the smoke, he pulled the front door open and followed his levitating cephalopod out into the hallway of the apartment building.
“FIRE!” He yelled as he ran down the hallway. He wanted to alert people, but also didn’t want to get caught with this demon baby arsonist in his arms. Doors began to open and raised voices started shouting anxiously as he fled the doomed apartment in the Mage Quarter and made his way into the night.
Mentions:
@maeskia @laceandhalos @kaisinasunblade
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blood & chocolate
chapter twenty-eight: dulce de leche
“Wow.”
His cherry lips parted with the feeling of euphoria that resided within him. His long black curls sprawled out around the sides of his head like the tentacles of an octopus. He kept those large spidery hands pressed onto his belly, to which he lifted up the bottom hem of his shirt and showed off his skin to me. I licked my lips as I persisted in tasting him. I kept my head close to his body, and my fingers close to the crest of his hip.
“That was… wow,” Alex breathed out, and he reached for his hair and ran his fingers through those coarse jet-black locks at the crown.
“You liked it, didn’t you?” I teased him.
“That is an understatement if I ever heard one,” he quipped. “I don’t know if I want to eat more after all of that. I ate a lot of fruit and I just got a great deal of tender lovin’ to go with it. I’m full all over.” He let out a low whistle and put his hands behind his head: the hem of his shirt lifted up over his waist which in turn showed off his belly button to me. He looked so delicate and soft laying there, and yet I resisted the urge to touch him again.
I just wanted to look at him for a moment before I did anything else. I just wanted to look at the fine line of dark hair underneath his belly button as well as the smoothness of his skin right there before my eyes.
“Is Dave still out there?” His voice was smoky and crisp, and I knew that he could possibly go for another round or two in a bit. I had to rile him back up again, but I had to start at the top.
I had to look but I couldn’t touch, however.
“I believe he is,” I said, and he once again ran his fingers through his inky black hair: I fixed my gaze on the pearly white roots of his gray streak.
“I worry about him seeing us in there should one of us have to go in there for something else to eat,” he confessed.
“You’ve got enough food in your belly to last you until tomorrow,” I assured him.
“But what about you, though?” he asked me, slightly worried.
“Don’t worry about me,” I insisted to him. “Don’t you worry about me, you cute chubby little New York cheesecake.”
“That’s Jew York cheesecake to you,” he corrected me with a little click of his tongue.
“Lay me down,” I told him. “We’ll stay in here until the coast is clear. We’ll stay in here and I’ll think of kissing every inch of you all the while.” He raised his eyebrows at that, but I was being serious. I was going to think about kissing every inch of his body. Every inch and every curve.
I lay close to him and took in his aroma, from the softness on the side of his neck to the peppery clean smell embedded in the roots of his hair. I resisted the urge to touch him again, but I instead showed him my tongue. He rolled his head over the top of the pillow for a better look at me. I locked eyes with him, and he returned the favor with a slight parting of his lips.
I could feel it. I could see it. But I had to resist my own urge to do it myself. I had to resist.
“Eric,” he started in a low voice.
“Hm?” I inched closer to him.
“I feel like a big peach.”
“A peach? Why a peach?”
“I am just… full of juice and love.”
I inched closer to him, and more so as I thought about as to how he tasted. He tasted a little bit salty but not too terrible. A salty boy who needed a little kiss of sugar just so I could have at him some more.
He swallowed and brought a hand to his lips as if to entice me. But I could feel it.
He rolled over a bit to show me the curvature of his hip and his body.
“I am just… so full,” he persisted.
We had nothing but time right then. Nothing but time and peace and quiet to explore each other’s minds and bodies some more. I could feel myself firming up between the legs again at the sight of him, at the way he breathed a bit harder than a minute prior, at the gentle whimpers that emerged from the back of his throat, at the aromas that wafted off of him, at the mere thought of him being so plump and juicy that I just wanted to touch him and feel him…
I rested my hand on his belly to feel the warmth within him.
“Like a big peach,” I whispered.
“A big… sleepy peach…” He yawned and rolled over onto his side for me to better feel him.
Dave was outside of the apartment door, and I knew that we would have to brave it at some point or another. But I had my hand right near his hip, and I spread my fingers across his belly to feel his softness.
“Do you know about the holiday of Purim?” he asked me as he rested his hand on the back of mine. It took me a second to realize that he was guiding me to feel him all over his little belly.
“Sort of,” I replied as I flexed my fingers over his smooth skin. Soft and smooth, and I just wanted to lay there and feel him.
“A joyous, springtime holiday that commemorates our survival from the evil King Haman courtesy of Queen Esther,” he explained as he guided my hand to the top of his pants; his skin was so soft there, like that of the smoothest silk known on this side of Israel. “Lots of eating and a big party. When I was a little kid, my brother and I would dress up in these Mardi Gras masks decorated in glitter and pipe cleaners. We’d pig out on the cookies, the hamantaschen, and then we’d fall asleep after dinner and after my dad and my grandpa both busted out the wine.
“What’re the cookies?”
“Hamantaschen. These little pastry triangles filled with chocolate or fruit jam or poppy seeds. Let me tell you, they’re excellent to have when you’re stoned.”
I chuckled at that.
“Really?”
“Yeah…” He shifted his weight a bit so he could face me; all the while, I never let go of his belly, and he never let go of my hand. “The entirety of seventh grade, I would get so baked like every day, like I barely remember anything that happened when I was thirteen.”
I gaped at him.
“How come you never mentioned this before?” I asked him, taken aback.
“It was just something I tried out,” he replied. “Like an experimental phase of my life as an act of rebellion against my parents and everything I was raised with and it’s something I never really think about anymore.”
“But because of your smoking pot, you have quite the appetite now,” I joked.
“Pretty much, yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “And I’ll tell you this, too. Ever since we started doing this whole thing here, sometimes I think about hitting up my old dealer for a fresh batch to make the cravings come in even more.”
“Do you have their number still?” I asked him, intrigued and horrified at the same time.
“Nah, she was the kind of person who often changed her phone number,” he explained. “You know. Being a drug dealer and what have you. All of those people have their ways, their tips and tricks and what have you.”
“Have you ever—” I started, and then I nibbled on my bottom lip.
“What?” He raised his eyebrows at that.
“Have you ever done anything—hot—while you were baked?”
He licked his lips and locked eyes with me.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” he confessed. “Doing oral while stoned is something that you can only experience rather than put into words.”
“I kind of want to experiment now,” I confessed. “Like… I want to know the feeling of the fire on my skin.”
“Welcome to my sick little world, big guy,” he chided. “Throw some hamantaschen into the mix, and I reckon we hit a trifecta of sorts.”
“Hamantaschen or the sufganiyot, maybe?” I suggested, to which his face lit up.
“Ooh, yeah, we could go and look for some bud and then rock and roll and seduce each other with some homemade sufganiyot. We could call it the bloody valentine because of the jam in the sufganiyot and the powdered sugar on top, and the way that the pot just makes you feel the way it does.”
“Where would we even find some bud?” I asked him as I lightly stroked his skin with my fingertips.
“Well… for starters, we have to do something about Dave out there,” he replied. “And then maybe I could take you to the place where I used to get my pot. It was a long time ago and things have changed a great deal since then. I don’t even know if that alleyway even exists anymore. But surely, there has to be something, though. There has to be a place for the two of us.”
“My place here?” I suggested as I ran my fingertip around the rim of his belly button.
“Your place here is home base,” he explained. “What I mean is… a place for the two of us to get baked, and then we come back and have a bit of fun.”
“Or, we take the pot back here and get baked,” I clarified.
“See, the thing is is the smell,” he pointed out. “I remember going to great pains to get rid of that smell after I got high. It gets in places that you wouldn’t expect it to. I worry about getting high in here and then the smell going through the vents.”
“Oh, right, right… Lou would be able to smell it, as would the family on the other side of the wall here.”
“Exactly. So, there has to be a place where we can go and get high and then enjoy ourselves.”
I paused for a second, and then I had an idea right as I stuck my finger into his belly button, which in turn made him shift his legs up a bit.
“I think I know where we can go,” I told him. “But it involves us having to rely on a move of some sort.”
“You don’t think…” he started, and then he parted his lips when I tickled him a bit.
“I do think,” I quipped back to him, and then I planted my lips onto his. “And I know just what we’re gonna do. But first, we have to wait out Dave’s little visit outside for the time being.” I gave him another kiss, that time with my free hand up into the roots on the back of his head. I kept my hand on his belly just to feel him and take in the gentle feeling and warmth of his body. I was in love with his little body, and I was in love with the warm feeling that he gave unto me. I lifted my head and gazed into those big eyes, complete with that come-hither look to them; I let my hair cascade down over his shoulder and the side of his neck as if to tantalize him a bit more.
“You know what’s another thing that we should nosh on after we score some pot?” I suggested to him.
“What’s that? And you are so naughty for using a word like ‘nosh’, too.”
I showed him the tip of my tongue, and I kept my eye on his neck, in particular the smoothness of his skin and the gentle, subtle way that his double chin poked out a bit.
“Pan dulce,” I suggested. “Some sweet breads courtesy of my family.”
“Sweet… Mexican breads,” he whispered.
“Sweet sugary buttery breads with some hot cocoa, churros, and dulce de leche, all of which will give your tummy a nice feeling as you come back down from the feeling of the weed,” I added as I ran my fingers through his hair again, and I once again gave him a kiss on the side of his neck. The feeling of my lips on his soft smooth skin, and I could feel my hips relaxing a bit against his own. He tilted his head back a bit, and that gave me the chance to indulge in the feeling of his skin some more. His skin, as soft and placid as fleece, and his body as tender as water: I just wanted to nourish him and give him everything he wanted as I treated myself to his feeling.
“I love the way your skin feels,” I whispered right into his ear.
“I love the full—weight of your body on me—” he grunted out, to which he gasped and set his hands on my back. I was on top again, and I had the feeling that I was going to cuddle with him all evening as well.
Dave would have to wait for the sunrise before either of us surfaced from the safety and comfort of my bed, and Elle would have to wait as well. And I meant it when I knew that we could find a way to have some fun with the pot without the worry of anyone smelling it outside of my place.
#blood and chocolate#blood & chocolate#blood & chocolate fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#testament#testament fanfic#testament band#alex skolnick#eric peterson#smut writing#smut warning#sensuality#also on ao3#writing#text#slash fic#slash fanfiction
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Tamaki Amajiki x Reader | Takoyaki Sprinkled With Love
fTW: all characters (except lunch rush, who is briefly mentioned) are in high school, but there is no explicit content of them!, tamaki gets insecure sometimes, very brief mirio x reader
KEY TAGS: love potion/spell au, pre-canon (spoiler free), reader has a quirk, strangers to best friends to lovers, fluff and angst, happy ending, misunderstandings, jealousy, pining, confessions, kissing
WORD COUNT: 16,791
CROSS POST: ao3
OPENING NOTE: thanks for clicking on this! please do not repost, copy, modify, or overall plagiarize this work anywhere else please. plagiarism is never acceptable, both in mla 8 format and in fanfiction! for translations, message me, and we can talk about it!
SUMMARY: "So, what does this have to do with your sudden hesitation? Well, you’ve been planning on filling these takoyaki with a crush-like feeling…for you. Don’t get the wrong idea! You don’t want to have the intended recipient of these takoyaki fall in love with you! You don’t even want a relationship with him! Well, you do, but you don’t hope to achieve that by giving these to him. No, you just wanted to see what it would feel like for him to reciprocate your feelings for only a week. The person you were hoping to give these can be pretty aloof, and you’re positive he doesn’t like you back. You don’t even think he’s interested in anyone like that. Who is this person? It’s Tamaki Amajiki, one of your best friends and fellow second year student at UA."
Or where you try to make Tamaki Amajiki fall in love with you through the power of your quirk and takoyaki to get over him, but things don't go to plan.
“Last one!”
After rotating the last takoyaki in the pan with a toothpick, you transfer it onto the small plate that was carrying the five other takoyaki, situating it on the very top of the pyramid to give it a more aesthetic appearance. Feeling the takoyaki looks naked without it, you quickly yet meticulously drizzle some takoyaki sauce and Japanese mayonnaise. Then, you sprinkle some dried green seaweed for a finishing touch. You wipe your forehead of sweat, feeling hot from being so close to the oven, which is two hundred degrees Celsius. You turn the knob to the left to turn off the stove and take a brief moment to admire your work.
Even though you’ve never cooked takoyaki before, you would say you did a pretty good job for your first time. While you do not know how it tastes yet, you had to at least give yourself a pat on the back for the delectable presentation. You only made a meager six takoyaki, a perfect sample size in case something went wrong. The takoyaki had managed to maintain most of its circular shape, and the sauce oozing off the sides of the takoyaki to the bottom of the plate would make anyone's mouth water, including your own. Don’t even mention the savory aroma dispensing throughout the room.
You move all of the leftover ingredients and cooking utensils to the far side of the counter. There is no one else in the home-ec room but you. Students in UA’s General Education Department rarely stay in the building past 4 p.m. unless they have clubs, unlike the students in the Heroes Department, who typically straggle in the training grounds until the sun sets. Cooking Club had meetings in Lunch Rush’s kitchen, so all home-ec classrooms are always available for your extensive use. You preferred cooking at UA because you enjoyed using their resources. UA has top-of-the-notch equipment for all of the departments, including the often overlooked General Education Department (your department pales in comparison to the more lustrous Heroes Department). You would be an idiot not to take advantage of that, so that’s why you’re here, utilizing your school’s resources instead of cooking in the comforts of your own home.
You engage in a staring contest with the takoyaki, heart pounding and hands sweating at the thought of what you have been planning to do with these octopus snacks. You see, your quirk is “Food Feeling.” It allows you to infuse whatever you cook with your feelings, which would then transfer onto the eater. So, for example, if you infuse happiness into these takoyaki, the eater would experience an added boost of happiness only for some time. Judging by the size of the takoyaki, you would say the effect of one takoyaki would last for only nine hours. While some emotions have an infinite capacity, such as love, most of them are finite, meaning you should keep in mind how often you use your quirk. If you use, again for example, too much happiness, you would be in a sad and despondent mood until you recover more happiness, which is done by doing things that make you happy.
So, what does this have to do with your sudden hesitation? Well, you’ve been planning on filling these takoyaki with a crush-like feeling…for you. Don’t get the wrong idea! You don’t want to have the intended recipient of these takoyaki fall in love with you! You don’t even want a relationship with him! Well, you do, but you don’t hope to achieve that by giving these to him. No, you just wanted to see what it would feel like for him to reciprocate your feelings for only a week. The person you were hoping to give these can be pretty aloof, and you’re positive he doesn’t like you back. You don’t even think he’s interested in anyone like that. Who is this person? It’s Tamaki Amajiki, one of your best friends and fellow second year student at UA.
Despite being in different departments, you somehow befriended Tamaki, Mirio Togata, and Nejire Hado. While Mirio is especially infamous for stripping naked in the school festival a few months ago, he and the others have been gradually gaining attention via their internships, and, from what you’ve been hearing, they have also been rising exponentially up the student ranks in the Heroes Department. All of UA’s departments share the same lunch time. Now, having more authority and capability as a second-year, when this school year first started, you had struck a deal with Lunch Rush where you can cook anything you want at UA and sell some of whatever you cooked every Thursday. In exchange, you would give half of your profits to UA. Anyways, your baked goods, particularly your “Confident Crêpes” and “Motivation Madeleines”, took off, and now you sell out in a matter of minutes. One day, Mirio bought some of your goods and, for a reason you have yet to know, invited you to sit with him, Tamaki, and Nejire at lunch.
“Sorry, guys, Mirio invited me to sit with him and his friends today,” you stand by the table in front of you instead of sitting down with your friends like you usually do, which puzzles them at first, “Would it be okay if I ate with them today?”
“Mirio? The one who was completely naked at the school festival?” your friend, Yaginuma Kyoko, scowls as her hair dips into the ramen broth.
“What does he want with you?” your other friend, Oshima Yoriyuki, asks you a question as well, despite his mouth being full.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, just as clueless as your friends, “I was just selling him some Energy Éclairs, and he invited me to eat with him, Nejire Hado, and Tamaki Amajiki!”
“Nejire and Tamaki as well?” Oshima finally swallows and gapes at you bug-eyed.
“What did Mirio even say?” Yaginuma ties her blonde hair back into a rushed ponytail, irritated by her hair falling into her bowl of noodles every time she leaned in to take a bite.
“Nothing crazy,” you recall the eleven words he said to you (yes, you remembered exactly what he said and counted how many words there were to make sure that what had happened was real), “He simply asked, ‘Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me and my friends?’”
“Sounds like something Mirio would say,” your blonde friend concludes, and the both of you look at her with questionable faces.
“You know him or something?” Oshima raises a brow since he’s never seen her with the hero student (the same goes for you).
“No, it just sounds like something he would do,” she slurps down her noodles before elaborating, “He’s characterized as this very friendly and lighthearted guy, or so I hear.”
“Ah,” he then shoos you away with his hands, urging you to leave, “Well, what are you waiting for then? Go ahead! We’ll see you in class later!”
“Are you sure?” you worry for your friends, scared of hurting their feelings if you left them.
“Yeah, and get Miro’s number for me!” Yaginuma calls out before continuing her meal, “Haven’t forgotten those rippling abs and those—.”
“You’re absolutely disgusting,” Oshima shakes his head disapprovingly.
“Yeah, I will not be doing that,” you roll your eyes and wave them goodbye, “Thanks for understanding! I promise to eat with you guys tomorrow! See you in class!”
With affirmations from Oshima and Yaginuma, you make your way over to where the Heroes Department is supposed to be seated (while the departments can eat with each other, they mainly keep to their own sectors). You feel a little anxious and, to be honest, awkward joining Mirio and his friends. You’ve never interacted with any of them before today, let alone talked to them. Also, lately, they’re starting to be considered celebrities in your school, even in the General Education Department. While some may also consider you to be well-known due to your part-time business at UA, sitting with them feels above your paygrade.
Before you know it, you’re less than thirty centimeters from the table, and you feel your palms begin to sweat from nervousness. Mirio and Tamaki are sitting next to each other while Nejire sits across from them with an empty seat next to her and closer to the outside. Tamaki quietly eats his food and listens attentively to Mirio and Nejire’s boisterous badinage with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. Before you could say anything, Mirio looks over to you and stands up from his seat so suddenly, his chair is pushed far back and almost into the partition behind him, startling his lunchtime companions.
“(L/N)!” he greets you with a volume you aren’t ready for and gestures to the seat across from Tamaki, “Come, have a seat! Nejire, Tamaki, this is the person who sold those Energy Éclairs and all those other treats. (L/N), these are my friends, Nejire and Tamaki!”
“H-hi!” you curse yourself for stuttering and swallow down your trepidation, prepared to give a more confident introduction, “A-as Mirio said, my name is (L/N) (Y/N)! I’m from the General Education Department. It’s nice to meet you guys!”
You look around the table to survey everyone else’s reactions, and your stomach sinks at Tamaki’s reaction. Tamaki gives you a very intense glare—so intense that it freezes you in place—but then wilts like a dying flower and stares down at his lunch tray. Mirio, who notices him cower right away, slaps him on the back and tells him that he has nothing to fear. You can’t tell if Tamaki is annoyed or uncomfortable by your appearance (probably both) and feel bad that you had intruded on their lunch. Before you can ask Mirio for a raincheck, Nejire pulls you down to your chair with a force strong enough that you practically fall onto the chair with a clatter.
“(L/N), right? I’m Nejire Hado!” she shakes your hand aggressively in a comedic way with an opulent smile, “I’m sorry if Mirio ruined any plans you had. He tends to be spontaneous like that.”
“What’s so bad about inviting a new friend?” Mirio lets out a hearty laugh, but no one does the same (not in a mean way, it seemed).
Nejire gleams at you with sparkles of keen interest in her periwinkle eyes and leans in closer to you as if she’s observing a scientific specimen in a lab, “So, (L/N), tell me about your quirk! What’s it called? What does it do? Are there any limitations?”
“Don’t scare her off already,” the blonde hero-student softly chastises and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry. Nejire here has a rather curious personality, so she asks a lot of questions, even blunt ones.”
“It’s all right,” you adjust yourself on the chair, and your nerves slow down to a calming pace as you’ll talk about a topic you’re quite familiar with, “My quirk is called ‘Food Feeling.’ I know it’s not that creative, but I have no idea what else to call it, haha! Basically, I can put my feelings into any food I cook through physical contact. So, for example, your Energy Éclairs. I made those éclairs myself and touched them to give them that energizing feeling. And, don’t worry, I wore gloves. Sanitation is a primary concern for me! However, if I do it too much, again, in this case with that energizing feeling, I would feel tired as my energy would be depleted.”
“Ohhh,” Nejire places a finger near her lips and thinks of more questions to ask, “So, your quirk can pervade clothing? What about other materials? Does it need to be your hands specifically?”
“I haven’t really tested out different materials, but,” you observe your palms to visualize how thin a material can be in order for your quirk to work, “I would say the material separating me and the food would have to be less than five centimeters. It doesn’t have to be my hand, but I don’t think anyone would want to eat food that was in contact with my foot or something.”
“Right, and—!”
“Nejire, let them eat first,” Tamaki shocks you by speaking for the first time since you came here; he doesn’t lift his head, though, and continues eating.
“N-no, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” you unzip your lunch bag and take out your thermos, unscrewing the lid to uncover what was inside, “I’m comfortable with talking about my quirk, and it’s a good way for you guys to get to know more about me.”
“Yeah, see, Tamaki?” Nejire holds a triumphant smile on her face, happy to be able to ask more questions, “Since Mr. ‘Don’t Ask Anymore Questions’ is here, I’ll just ask these last few for now. How exactly does your quirk work? Is there a time limit? Can you, like, make people have certain thoughts?”
“Well,” you take a moment to think about it to be able to explain it in lay person’s terms as how your quirk works can be difficult to understand to some, “Can I borrow your éclair for a second?”
Nejire promptly gives it to you, also giving you her complete attention, and you begin to use it as an example, “When someone eats something that was affected by my quirk, they don’t feel it from nothing. That emotion is added onto theirs. So, again with the whole energy example, if the eater has no energy in their system, eating this eclair would only give them some energy. The size is proportional to the effect. The bigger the food, the more of the emotion they would experience. Time is also proportional to size. An éclair like this would only give energy for about…twelve hours. And, as for the thoughts thing, I’m not exactly sure. Some emotions, like confidence, would give the eater different thoughts about themself, but I don’t think I can make them think a certain type of way, if you know what I mean. I haven’t tried, so, I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I don’t think I could make someone fall in love with me or something, haha!”
“Such a cool quirk! There are so many questions I want to ask you!” she reaches outward, wanting something from you, “Give me your phone, so I can text you!”
“O-oh, of course!” your heartbeat picks up at the idea of having Nejire Hado’s phone number in your phone.
You unlock your phone and hand it to her, which she snatches in an instant.
Her fingers dart across the digital keyboard as she types in her contact, and, after a quick snapshot of her face, she gives you your phone back, “Here you go! While I was putting in my number, I just thought of another question! Last one, pinky promise!”
You laugh at her extreme interest in your quirk and pocket your phone away, “Sure, what is it?”
“Can your bodily liquids also transfer emotions to food, like sweat or pee?” she asks so nonchalantly as though she is merely commenting on the sunny weather outside.
“Nejire, why?” Tamaki sags more towards the table and lunch tray, his own way of burying his face in his hands at Nejire’s question.
“What? Did I say something wrong?” she acts like she didn’t just ask such a strange question and turns back to you for your response.
“Uh…” you’re taken aback by the sudden change in questioning, not wanting to imagine such a thing, “I’m not sure, and I don’t think I want to try to find out, haha!”
You check on Tamaki to see how he’s doing. Aside from his brief remarks, Tamaki hasn’t said anything else. You glimpse at him, not wanting to make him even more uncomfortable by blatantly staring instead. He’s still staring down at his lunch tray with…shaky eyes? That’s the best way to describe it. His lips also curve downward into a twitchy frown. His lunch is hardly touched, and you begin to wonder if it was you or something else that’s making him so uneasy. It’s most likely because of you, but….
“Tamaki?” you call out his name with a hand partly reaching out in concern (you don’t want to reach too far out and burst his personal space bubble), “Are you okay?”
The indigo-haired hero-student flinches as if he wasn’t expecting for you to talk to him, and finally looks up to make eye contact with you before flickering his gaze elsewhere, “Sorry…I’ve been trying to imagine you as a carrot this whole time, so I would be able to talk to you…but I still can’t think of anything to say. Mirio and Nejire are better at conversation anyways.”
“Oh, don’t be like that Tamaki!” Mirio whacks him again on the back, and Tamaki coughs violently from the impact, “You have lots of good things to say! You just have to be more confident about yourself.”
“The carrot didn’t work this time? How about a piece of broccoli?” Nejire suggests another vegetable for him to imagine.
“The vegetable doesn’t matter,” Tamaki dismisses the idea and returns to his lunch, “It’s just weird to see someone as a vegetable with a human body.”
“Then include the body with the vegetable imagery,” Nejire shrugs as if there is nothing more that could be done.
You frown at the predicament, knowing what it’s like to be nervous in the presence of new people. Not only were you like that mere moments before you sat down (Nejire and Mirio’s enthusiasm helped you feel more comfortable and at ease with them), but it was also like that in grade school when you introduced yourself to the entire class that one time you transferred. It’s not the greatest, and you wish you could do something to help without being too intrusive.
You glance at your lunchbag and come up with an idea when you see the bun you baked this morning when preparing your lunch, as you always do. You take the baked good out of its container and contemplate what feeling you should use: confidence or calmness?
You muster an appropriate amount of calmness and, after using your quirk on the pastry, gingerly offer it to your schoolmate in front of you, “Here, Tamaki. I used my quirk on this, so you should feel calmer after eating it.”
He stares at it incredulously, and you begin to worry if you overstepped…or if it was because of your hands, “S-sorry, I should have washed my hands before I did that! You don’t have to eat it. I-I’ll just…”
You stop digging your grave any deeper and effectively stop talking. If he doesn’t respond within the next three seconds, you’re going to excuse yourself from this table and never come back. Maybe even transfer schools entirely.
“No, it’s not that,” his lips slide into an unsure slant, and his brows furrow with guilt, “You made that bun yourself, so you deserve it more than I do.”
With that poor excuse, you now urge him to take it from you, “Oh, that’s not true! You deserve this bun just as much as I do. Besides, I can make this anytime I want. Please, take it.”
After a moment of deep consideration, he takes the treat from you and slowly takes a bite. You watch him cautiously and pray that he likes it, or, at the very least, doesn’t think it’s bad since you made that yourself. When he finishes his first bite, his eyes widen but not in the same way as when they first glared at you; it’s more out of surprise, which you can’t tell if that was a good thing or not. He then takes another bite, and the quirk visibly starts to work. His shoulders slowly fall and loosen from their previously stiff and mountain-high level. His posture straightens from his slump. His head also gradually rises upward, his eyes moving on from his lunch tray to you and the others.
“How was it?” you ask, relieved and pleased to see your quirk taking effect.
“Yeah, describe how you feel right now!” Nejire excitedly adds in like she’s ready to take notes and jot down some observations.
“I feel a lot more calmer,” he looks at himself in disbelief and then directly at you, which almost makes you flinch in your seat as he’s had very fleeting glimpses at you but nothing more than that, “Not only that, the bun was a lot better than I was expecting. I mean, I knew it would taste good since I’ve had your other treats, but I didn’t think something so simple would be so delicious. Thank you, (L/N).”
“Of course,” you blush at the compliment, still not used to people giving you praise for your cooking, “I also understand what it’s like to feel anxious meeting new people, so I figured giving you something to calm you down would be best. Also, you don’t need to feel so nervous talking to me! As someone who can also be nervous talking to new people, I relate.”
He gives you nothing more than an eased expression, but you interpret it as an agreement to be less nervous around you without the use of your quirk.
“Aw, Tamaki’s all grown up!” Mirio wipes fake tears from his eyes to imitate a proud father, “Look at him making friends!”
“Quit it, Mirio,” he inwardly groans and gets embarrassed at Mirio’s faux display of paternal affection.
The rest of you laughed, and Nejire asks him more questions about your bun. You continue to eat your lunch, hoping to finish before the lunch period ends, and delightfully watch the interrogation before you as though it’s a TV show. The thought of sitting with them at lunch from now on filled you with anticipation and excitement for tomorrow’s lunch. Well, more like the day after tomorrow. You did promise your friends that you would sit with them tomorrow in exchange, which doesn’t make you upset or disappointed. You would just have to wait for the day after, and what’s stopping you from getting their numbers now to keep in contact outside of lunch? Wait, would that be too soon? But you have Nejire’s number already. Then again, she asked you.
Before you could let this mere debate escalate into a moral dilemma, Mirio asks for your number and asks for Tamaki. After all, a calm bun isn’t going to completely change Tamaki into this confident, more proactive person. You have no problem giving them your number and type it in their phones, happy to soon have more people in your contact list. As you give back the phones, you hope that this one encounter will establish a strong, long lasting friendship between the four of you.
Since then, you’ve gotten closer to the trio, especially Tamaki. You can’t pinpoint the exact reason why you felt so drawn to him when you two first met, and, as you get to learn more about him, you come up with more and more possibilities. Maybe it’s because you can relate to his social anxiety. It could be because his quirk is food-related just like yours. Is it because of his keen insight and admiration for others’ hard work? Or maybe it’s because of this calm ambience he possesses despite being a rather frantic person. Actually, that might be how you came to acquire this unfortunate crush on him.
Not too long after your first luncheon with them, Mirio added you to a group chat with him, Tamaki, and Nejire in it. This group chat helped you become closer to them, especially through the countless video calls Mirio starts almost every other night. Through those calls, you got to know more about everyone and noticed that you had a lot in common with Tamaki. From there, you began to send him memes and other pictures that reminded you of him. As the days passed, your text conversations became longer and longer, evolving from simple memes to talking about how your days went to reminiscing grade school memories. This wasn’t when you began to have a crush on him, though. Not yet.
There was one night where you just wanted some company but didn’t want to talk to anyone; you just wanted to be in someone else’s presence while you did other things, like homework or playing video games. Only one person came to mind when you were wondering who you could call: Tamaki Amajiki. He wasn’t as talkative as your other friends, and you felt close enough to be in a private call with him. You texted him, asking if it would be okay. After seeing the typing bubble fade in and out of view for a couple of minutes, he finally agreed, and you tapped the “Call” button after reading that text. He asked you if you were okay, and you told him why you wanted to call him. He said that he understood and, in a less confident tone, that you could talk to him about anything if you felt comfortable. You remember your heart skipping a beat and feeling extremely grateful for this display of concern.
You took him up on that offer, and, every now and then, you go on private calls with Tamaki. Sometimes, the two of you just bask in each other’s presence, even if both of your cameras are off. Other times, you tell him about your day, and he would either listen attentively or tell you a little bit about his day as well. However, texting is still your primary method of having conversations; you figured texting would be more convenient for him.
Anyways, last month close to Valentine’s Day, Nejire started talking about crushes and dating during lunch. After lamenting over the lack of love in her life, she turned to you and asked about your love life. You were flustered at the sudden spotlight on you and tried to answer her wide range of questions, from your sexuality to if you had dated anyone before. At this point, you’re already used to Nejire’s inquisitive yet sometimes intrusive behavior, but it doesn’t make answering her questions any easier. She then asked if you had a crush on anyone, which you immediately denied. She wiggled her eyebrows, gestured to Mirio and Tamaki, who were innocently eating their own lunches, and asked if you had a crush on either of them (whether she asked as a joke or not, you’ll never know). Embarrassed from her question, Tamaki’s cheeks flushed a bright, glowing red from the neck up and moved his gaze away from you. Meanwhile, Mirio laughed awkwardly, diving himself into his lunch and eating more ferociously. You, more hastily and urgently, told her again that you don’t have a crush on anyone, including them.
Being the little instigator she is, Nejire brought up how you had private video chats with Tamaki. You looked at her in absolute shock as you didn’t know how she knew that. It’s not that you didn’t want anyone to know; you just didn’t feel the need to tell anyone. It shouldn't be that strange for two friends to go on a video call with just the two of them anyways. Looking to Tamaki for an explanation, he looked just as surprised as you were and, this time, fully facing the partition to him out of pure mortification. Mirio stopped furiously eating his lunch and perked up at this new information. Before Nejire could press you more on the matter, Mirio graciously stopped her by changing subjects, which you silently thanked him for.
When you got home, you recalled what Nejire was suggesting and spent the majority of the day reflecting on your relationship with Tamaki. As you thought more and more about him, your stomach would fill with fluttering butterflies, and you would begin to feel feverish. Dismissing these feelings as a result of winter transitioning into spring and all the pollen that comes with it, you had successfully managed to deny that any feeling you had for Tamaki was anything other than strictly platonic for the first few days. However, when you went on another call with him one night, with those thoughts Nejire implanted inside your mind, you succumbed to the sad reality: you have a crush on your best friend.
It’s been only two weeks since this revelation, and your second year is almost over, entering its third and final term. After coming to the conclusion that you have a crush on Tamaki, you only have two options: 1) confess your feelings, which are sure to end up rejected or 2) get over him. Finding option two much more favorable, you contrived only two grand plans on how to go about this: 1) cut him off entirely, which meant you would also have to cut off Mirio and Nejire or 2) get Tamaki to have feelings for you and enjoy it while it lasts to make your crush go away. Clearly, you didn’t want to use the first method, so you decided to use the unconventional and very specific second method obtained from fanfiction. How? Well, as you explained earlier, you plan to give Tamaki these takoyaki supplemented with romantic feelings for you, so you could experience what it would be like for him to like you back. Then, after the effects wear off, you would be satisfied and move on.
Is this ethical? No, probably not. Will you possibly get even stronger feelings for him? Yeah, probably. Does this actually work? Half of the time! Does it work only because the person had a crush on the other person the entire time, so they end up in a romantic relationship? Perhaps! There’s also the chance that the romantic feelings won’t transfer over since your quirk, as far as you know, only allows you to transfer feelings, not feelings about a certain thing or person. Nevertheless, this will one hundred percent work with a ninety-nine percent chance of error!
Before you can question your actions again for the umpteenth time, you let out a deep breath and wash your hands. After slipping on some gloves, you place your hands on the takoyaki in front of you in such a way that you would be able to transfer these crush feelings in one go. Miraculously, you don’t burn from how hot the takoyaki was earlier; did it already cool down in such a short amount of time?
You close your eyes and imagine Tamaki to help better channel these feelings into the takoyaki. Even the mere thought of him boosts your body temperature by two degrees or more.
Indigo-colored hair. Raisin black eyes. Slim stature.
Walking through the park with Tamaki. Cooking up breakfast inside your kitchen with him.
Before your mind transcends to more scenarios with more detail, you stop using your quirk, so you don’t end up filling these takoyaki with very intense feelings. After all, you don’t want Tamaki to obsess over you.
As you admire your craftsmanship, the door to the home-ec room abruptly slides open, and you let out a squeal, your heart practically leaping out of your chest.
“Hey, (L/N)!” Mirio yells out while marching proudly into the room, approaching your lone figure, and Nejire and Tamaki file in behind him.
“M-Mirio!” you shout, not expecting him or anyone else to find you here at all and taking the takoyaki behind your back to hide it, “Wh-what’re you guys doing here?”
“Sorry for intruding,” Tamaki apologizes and stands diagonally behind Mirio, looking out of place with his hands in his pockets, “I told Mirio to just call you, but he thought that you wouldn’t answer. So, he asked where you were, and we ended up here.”
“We wanted to hangout today!” Mirio answers with a thumbs up and a big smile, “None of us have any internship duties, and we just finished our training. It’s Friday, so we can worry about homework on Sunday night. Are you free?”
“Uh…” you wonder if you have anything going on today and conclude that you don’t, “Yes, I should be! What did you have in mind?”
Before Mirio could list off some ideas, Nejire goes behind you to see what you’re hiding and takes the plate of takoyaki from your hands, showing it to everyone, “(Y/N), are these takoyaki?”
“N-Nejire!” you try to take the plate back from her, but she evades you with ease, “Y-yes, but those are affected by my quirk! You shouldn’t eat them!”
She lets out an “ooo” sound and inspects them from bottom to top, “What did you put in them?”
“Wh-what did I p-put in them?” you start to panic and say the first feeling you can think of, “H-happiness! T-they’re ‘Happiness Takoyaki!’”
“Huh, that doesn’t follow the alliteration you usually use,” Nejire eyes you suspiciously and charily places the plate of takoyaki back down, “Also, why are you stuttering so much? Are you hiding something, (L/N)?”
“N-no!” you stutter again and swallow, collecting your thoughts and trying to keep yourself in check, “No, I’m not hiding anything. I-it’s my first time making takoyaki. I’m also experimenting with something, so I don’t want you guys to eat them in case something happens, s-sorry.”
“‘Experimenting’?” Nejire tilts her head and doesn’t ask you what your experiment was, surprisingly, “Well, they look great for your first time! Why don’t we try some to give you feedback and help you with your experiment?”
“Yeah, they look tasty, and I could use a post-workout snack!” Mirio reaches out for one, but you take the plate away before he could take one.
You click your tongue at them like a parent scolding their children for reaching far inside the depths of the cookie jar, “Again, first time making them and experimenting. I don’t want to risk anything, especially with you three.”
Nejire pouts but then comes up with an idea, as seen when her face lights up, “I got it! Have only one of us try it. If anything happens, it’ll only affect one of us, and you can create an antidote to countermand any unwanted effects.”
“An antidote?” your grip around the plate loosens, and you listen to what she’s suggesting.
“Yeah! You could cook something and infuse that with sadness to reverse your quirk,” she turns to Tamaki, who flinches and then tries to shrink in the background due to the sudden attention on him, “Tamaki, isn’t takoyaki your favorite?”
“...Yes,” he timidly answers, scared as to where this is going.
“Why don’t you try for us?” Nejire smiles politely, even though you can feel a forceful aura from her.
“Huh?” Tamaki becomes more alert and wide-eyed, “Why?”
“Because you like takoyaki!” she reasons as if her line of thinking is flawless, “Besides, it’s made by (L/N)!”
What is that supposed to mean?
You realize that this is a great way to start your “Get Over Tamaki” plan but don’t want to force Tamaki into eating these right now (you were planning on just giving them to him as a gift), “Tamaki, you don’t have to eat these if you don’t want to. You can have one, but only if you want to.”
“Oh, so you’re fine with giving Tamaki your takoyaki but not us,” Nejire nudges you in the side, and you ignore her, fighting the urge to nudge her out the window.
He appears to contemplate whether he should take a takoyaki or not. After shifting eyes between the floor and plate of takoyaki, he swipes one from the pyramid and eats it quickly in one bite. It was so fast that, if you had blinked, you would have missed it. With bated breath, you wait for his reaction and observe his careful chews. As every second passes, your hands get sweatier and sweatier (you remove your gloves from discomfort, but the sweat makes it difficult), anxious yet hopeful for what’s about to happen.
“So, how’s it taste? Feel any happier?” Nejire asks while resting her chin on her hands on the counter, putting a suspicious emphasis on “happier.”
After chewing a couple of more times and, at last, swallowing, he thinks about what to say but doesn’t seem all too ready to give his opinion.
“Y-yeah, you can say whatever you want!” you encourage him, wanting to see if your quirk actually worked.
He wraps a hand around his arm, a telltale sign that he is unsure in what he is about to say, and has difficulty with looking you in the eyes, “Well…the takoyaki was really tasty…which of course it was since you made it! However, I don’t feel any happier…. Sorry, it probably doesn't work on me. I’m sure if Mirio or Nejire tried them, it would work.”
“D-don’t think like that, Tamaki,” You resist the urge to clutch your chest to prevent your heart from jumping out like a fish leaping out of its bowl, “This is an experiment, so it’s most likely my fault. W-what do you feel then?”
Tamaki takes some time to think and puts his thoughts together, “Like I appreciate myself more.”
You deadpan at his reaction as that was not what you expected, “Huh?”
“Did you make ‘Love Yourself Takoyaki’ by accident?” Nejire asks while taking a takoyaki for herself and rolling it between her fingers.
“I don’t think so,” you try to keep a calm air about you when you’re actually freaking out over Tamaki’s report, unsure what went wrong, “Y-you guys shouldn’t try this then. If Tamaki got this unintended effect, who knows what will happen for you guys?”
“Fine,” Nejire huffs out, upset that she wasn’t able to try your creation.
Mirio’s stomach growls loudly, which he lets out a sheepish chuckle about, “Well, why don’t we go get something to eat together? I still need that post-workout snack.”
You hear Mirio and Nejire make their way out of the classroom, discussing possible places to eat at. You stare at the takoyaki, wondering what went wrong. As you’re about to scrape the takoyaki into the trash with immense pity for their fate, Tamaki calls out to you.
“(L/N), I’m sorry your takoyaki didn’t work like you wanted,” he pauses before speaking, making you wonder what he’s about to say, “You don’t have to throw out the takoyaki. They were really good, and it would be a waste for them to end up in the trash.”
“Thanks, Tamaki,” you avoid his eyes to prevent yourself from furiously blushing, “but who’s going to eat it? I can’t give it to anyone because I don’t want them to be at risk of something bad happening to them. I could eat them myself, but—.”
“I can take them,” he interrupts you, which is very rare for him to do, “That is, if you don’t mind. They were really delicious, and we know that these takoyaki do nothing bad to me. I should be fine if I eat them.”
You remember what the takoyaki were originally meant for, but, since Tamaki is clearly not in love with you as intended, you don’t see the harm in it, “Okay, let me put this in a container for you. There should be one lying around here.”
As you go through the cabinets, closing and opening different doors, you find a stack of empty foil trays with their clear plastic lids next to them. You transfer the takoyaki precariously with a toothpick from the plate to the tray while Tamaki silently watches you. Mirio and Nejire come back, who finally noticed that you two weren’t following them.
“Come on, you two,” Mirio groans at the doorway, leaning weakly against it to exaggerate his state of hunger, “I’m starving!”
“Yeah, what were you doing here anyways?” Nejire has a mischievous smile about her like she knows exactly what happened here.
“I’m just packing this away for Tamaki, and I still need to put away all of these pans and stuff,” you fold the edges of the foil around the lid to seal it shut and pass it over to Tamaki, “Have you guys decided where we’re going?”
Mirio happily tells you and Tamaki the list he and Nejire made up, but you’re barely listening. As you put away various cooking utensils and ingredients, you only have one question in your mind.
Why didn’t it work?
The same hour of the following Monday, you’re back at it in the same home-ec room on the sixth floor with the same plate of takoyaki asking yourself the same question. You haven’t used your quirk on the takoyaki yet, so you stare at it in hopes of coming up with a solution to your problem. Over the weekend, you asked your family if any type of food cancels your quirk or has some effect on it. They said that there shouldn’t be, so the takoyaki itself shouldn’t be the issue.
You recall what Tamaki said after eating the takoyaki. He said that he felt more appreciative of himself, but he was supposed to have a crush on you instead. What is the connection between these two? Even though you ponder it for about five minutes, running over a series of possibilities and repeating questions at least three times over, you still do not have an answer. You impatiently conclude that you didn’t put enough “crush” feeling in the takoyaki and would just have to put some more in this time.
Sighing, this means Tamaki really doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. Again, your quirk only adds the feeling to how much of that feeling the eater feels. If Tamaki didn’t show any signs of having a crush on you despite eating that crush-filled takoyaki, then he doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you. You already know that, but it still hurts and crushes the minute hope you had.
These sad feelings might affect the takoyaki when you use your quirk on them, so you take a deep breath and exhale. Blue skies in, gray clouds out, as Yaginuma once told you. You do your routine of washing your hands and wearing the familiar blue gloves. Cracking your knuckles and ready to put as much crush as possible into these takoyaki, you place your hands on the takoyaki and summon Tamaki in your mind.
Suddenly, one of the doors opens, and the sound of it sliding open scares you. You lift your hands up as if you’re on a cooking show, and the judge yells, “Hands up!”
“(L/N)?” a familiar voice calls out your name, and you turn around frantically to identify who just came in.
Tamaki closes the door behind him and stuffs his hands in his pockets when making your way over to you. You sigh with relief when you find out that it’s only Tamaki but then start to panic again because it’s Tamaki.
“T-Tamaki!” you exclaim and try to calm yourself at the unexpected visit, “Y-you scared me! What’re you doing here? Where’s Mirio and Nejire?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologizes and glances over at the takoyaki in front of you, “Mirio and Nejire are busy doing hero work at their internships. Fat Gum is out of town, so I don’t have any work for now. Nejire said that you were still working on your takoyaki and sent me over to help since she couldn’t.”
“Oh, she didn’t have to do that,” you busy yourself with the takoyaki to distract yourself from him and his visage, “I’ll be okay on my own, thank you. I’m sure you want to go home like you always say, haha!”
“No, it’s okay,” he concentrates on the ground with uncertainty and doubt, “I don’t mind helping you out. I have nothing better to do…that is, if you don’t mind having me here. Sorry, I’m sure having someone around like Mirio would be more fun…”
“Oh, Tamaki,” you rush to comfort Tamaki and leave the takoyaki alone, knowing how insecure he can get, “Don’t think like that. I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me, promise! I just didn’t want to make you stay here longer than you had to. You’re more than welcome to help me out, if you want.”
He raises his head to look at you and then rapidly redirects his gaze back to the takoyaki, “Thanks. So, what is it exactly you need help with?”
“Well,” you check out your takoyaki again and think of a way to implicitly explain what you’re hoping to achieve with these treats, “I’m trying to get these takoyaki to make the eater feel a certain way. I was hoping to give these to a certain person today, but I can’t give them if they’re not working like I wanted them to.”
“Who’re you planning to give these to?” Tamkai asks innocently, and you’re left to come up with a lie on the spot.
As seen already, lying isn’t your strong suit. It was hard enough having to lie to Nejire on Friday. Lying to Tamaki is a thousand times worse! If he pushed you hard enough, you would cave in instantaneously like butter in a microwave for less than five seconds. Of course, he probably wouldn’t, but even seeing him has the same effect!
“W-well,” you stammer, hoping to stall for time, “It’s f-for…for…a s-secret someone! S-sorry, I can’t tell you!”
“Oh,” he curls in on himself like a rolly polly (the feeling of guilt immediately crawls on your back, also like a rolly polly), “And what’re you trying to make them feel? Happiness, right?”
“A-ah, yup! H-happiness indeed!” you feel your hands secrete sweat and attempt to covertly wipe them on your uniform bottoms.
Tamaki initiates eye contact with you, so you, not only fight the blood rushing to the sides of your face, surrender and tell him the truth (well, most of the truth), as predicted, “S-sorry, I really can’t tell you who it’s for. But…promise not to judge me for this?”
Receiving a quiet nod in response, you inhale deeply before beginning to recount your grand master plan without mentioning Tamaki’s role in it, “These takoyaki…. I’m trying to inject them with romantic feelings. I’m not trying to make the eater feel lovey-dovey for just anyone or everyone. I’m trying to make them have a crush…on me.”
He allows you to continue for further elaboration, so you do so to defend yourself and make yourself come off as less sleazy, “D-don’t get me wrong! I-I’m not trying to make this person fall in love with me forever and ever! I just…. I want to see what it would feel like for them to reciprocate my feelings. Only for a week, that’s it!”
After finishing your story, you brace yourself for any possible backlash over your actions and their unethicality. You even shut your eyes tight, fearful of what he has to say. At this very moment, you’ve decided that, if Tamaki expresses any disapproval, you’ll stop with the plan and live the rest of your life in total agony and hopelessly watch him get married to someone else and adopt five cats out of solitude and then—.
“O-oh,” he simply lets out, which is not the censuring reaction you were expecting, “…but I don’t think that person would want takoyaki. I think they would rather want ramen.”
“H-huh?” you open your eyes and suddenly worry that he knows the takoyaki were for him all along, “D-do you know who I’m giving these to?”
His face presents a conflicted expression, brows crinkled deeply and glower refusing to leave the linoleum floor, and he hesitates to answer your question, “...No, sorry, forget what I said.”
“A-all right,” you comply, not wanting to press him about it anymore and somehow end up having to tell him that the takoyaki are for him, “B-but yeah, that’s what these takoyaki are for. Do you…still want to help me?”
“Of course,” he pulls one of the bar stools tucked underneath the counter table and sits himself on it, “So, have you used your quirk on these yet?”
“No, I tried to figure out what I did wrong, but I came up with nothing,” you sigh and recline back on the counter behind you, “I was thinking of just putting more ‘crush’ feeling than last time and see if that helps. After all, since my quirk only adds to the eater’s feelings, it might be due to the romantic feelings you don’t have for me, haha…”
Tamaki’s cheeks go ablaze at the insinuation, and you’re eager to move on, not wanting to dwell on the fact that he doesn’t have any feelings for you at all, “A-anyways, I’ll start using my quirk on these. Are you sure you want to help me out with this? You might end up having a temporary crush on me, and we both know Nejire would have an absolute riot with that, haha!”
His laughter sounds like charming wind chimes, and he turns even redder, which gets your heart pumping straightaway, “She would…but I’m willing to go through that if this works.”
You let him know of your gratitude with a smile and refocus your attention on the takoyaki. Encapsulating the takoyaki with your hands like you did before, you take a deep breath in and out. You close your eyes and repeat the same ritual from Friday, rehashing the same scenarios. Thoughts of Tamaki and you flood your mind, blissfully swirling about like red wine in a fancy, tall, crystal glass.
Indigo-colored hair. Lazily running your fingers through his hair. Raisin black eyes. Intimately staring into each other’s eyes and drinking them in, etching the very sight into your memory. Slim stature. Wrapping yourself against his lithe body and embracing him tightly. Lean muscles capable of carrying at least twice his weight. Being carried in his arms, held tightly to ensure you don’t fall off. A black sleeveless turtleneck hugging tightly across his chest. Said turtleneck stripped to reveal the result of hours upon hours of hard workouts.
Walking through the park with a pair of butterflies flying about you two, chancely imagery to symbolize you and Tamaki. Maneuvering about a kitchen you two share, making a late Sunday breakfast for just the two of you. Tamaki, under the pseudo “Suneater,” swinging in from out of nowhere to save you from unpredicted dangers.
Whoa, you don’t know if it’s because Tamaki is in the room with you, but your imagination is running wild today!
Deeming it enough, you stop using your quirk and open your eyes only to find those raisin black irises you were fantasizing about earlier staring right back at you. Tamaki falls back from surprise, almost stumbling to the ground if the counter behind him wasn’t there. He regains his composure and can’t meet your gaze, his eyes fidgeting all over the room. You’re too stunned to do anything, and, even without a mirror, you can tell your face changed from your skin tone to a mute red. Was he looking at you the whole time?
“S-sorry! I d-didn’t mean—!” Tamaki struggles with what to say while you’re having an internal crisis, all of your systems short circuiting inside of you, “I-it’s just…y-you looked s-so—!”
He stops talking right there, a blushing, stuttering mess, and you feel as though you’ve been cheated out of a good deal. You can’t force him to say what he was going to, so you have no choice but to drop it, no matter how much you want to know what he was going to say. Also, with the state he’s in, you doubt he can give you a coherent answer.
“I-it’s all right, Tamaki,” you relieve yourself from the tightness of the gloves and slide the plate of takoyaki closer to him, “H-here, I finished. Could you try them out for me?”
Like a tentative kitten, he approaches the takoyaki and cautiously takes one from the pile. He, again, places the whole thing in his mouth. It’s not that surprising; these takoyaki are bite-sized. Chewing it a couple of times, he finally swallows, his eyes downcast.
“S-so?” you ask, wringing your hands from nervousness, “How is it? Feel any different?”
He puts his hands back in his pockets and shakes his head dismissively, “Nothing. Same as last time.”
“Dang it,” you slump onto a bar stool yourself, dismayed at the unfavorable results, “Nothing at all?”
“Well,” Tamaki’s “well” gives you a smidge of hope, and you perk up for what he has to say, “this feeling of self-appreciation is way stronger than last time’s.”
You crumple back on the stool, disheartened by the lack of progress despite this being only your second trial. Tamaki doesn’t feel any romantic feelings for you, even after you put one hundred and ten percent of your quirk into those takoyaki. This really means Tamaki doesn’t see you in that way. Even so, Tamaki should feel something. Even if the eater doesn’t have any feelings, your quirk should still have some effect. After all, your quirk adds; eventually, the eater would have to experience something. What’re you doing wrong? Is it because Tamaki’s the eater? No, your quirk works on everyone. It can’t be the takoyaki, as confirmed by your relatives. Could it be…the emotion you’re using for the takoyaki?
“(L/N),” Tamaki snaps you out of your trance, bringing you back to reality, “Can I say something?”
“Sure, something wrong?” you set your discontent and dissatisfaction aside, choosing to reflect on this stumping conundrum later.
“I don’t think you need those takoyaki,” he declares with an air of certainty about him without sounding too cocky or confident, “I’m sure that whoever you’re going to give these takoyaki to has the same feelings as you do. You’re such a wonderful person, (L/N). You’re a hard worker, like now with these takoyaki. And you make sure that all of your friends are okay and take care of them. You shine so bright in your own way, brightening everyone’s day. I can’t imagine anyone not seeing you in the same way I do.”
“Tamaki…” you flush a pale pink, heart drumming so loudly in your ears, it’s all you can hear, “Thank you for your words, but I’m certain they don’t see me in that way. And I could say the same for you too! You should be more confident in yourself because you truly are an extraordinary person. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, and you shine in your own right, even if you don’t think so…. If only you could see yourself how I see you.”
That’s as close to a confession you’ll ever give to Tamaki. How do you have the courage to tell him all of that and not have the courage to actually say those three simple words: I like you. Maybe tack on a “more than a friend” to avoid confusion.
Tamaki turns red from head to toe, overwhelmed by your compliments. He manages to crank out a “thank you”, and the two of you sit on your stools in comfortable silence. Your heart is still pounding like crazy, and it seems impossible to stop it. You notice the sun setting outside the classroom’s window, meaning you should be getting ready to leave.
“W-we should start heading out,” you get off the stool and push it back under the counter, “Do you want these still?”
He agrees mutely and takes one last takoyaki before you prepare to wrap it up. In his haste, he ends up having a crumb on the corner of his pillowy lips. You chuckle to yourself quietly, finding it to be more adorable than anything. Tamaki looks at you with a curious brow, confused as to why you’re laughing at him. Wanting to continue the silence, you merely point to the right corner of your lips, and he mirrors your actions, becoming aware of the defiant, stray crumb. He appears embarrassed by it, unsure as to what to do about it. Without thinking, you rip off a paper towel and lean over the counter to wipe it off. Out of instinct, you gently grab a hold of his chin and delicately dust the crumb off, effacing some sauce residue off as well. When you finish, your eyes go up from his lips to his eyes, which were watching you intently, Tamaki too frozen to do anything. You’re suddenly conscious of where you are and who you were doing this with, and apologies spew from your mouth.
“S-sorry, Tamaki!” you toss the paper towel out and retreat to the counter behind you, “I-I don’t know what I was thinking! I’m so used to doing that f-for my friends and f-family! I-I—!”
“I-it’s fine, (L/N),” he stiffly replies and swipes a finger as to where the crumb was like it was still there.
“R-right,” you know that you wouldn’t be able to forget this for a long time, still feeling his jaw on fingertips, “L-let me pack this up for you, and we can go home.”
“I-I’ll go with you,” Tamaki helps you clean up the ingredients, “It’s getting late, and you don’t live that far from me.”
“A-are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you,” you imagine going home with him alone, your heart pumping at a dangerous pace despite having gone home with him before, and get the foil container again with its complementary lid.
You two work in tandem as the birds chirp outside and the skies fade from baby blue to a warm orange. As you recall the events that had just transpired, you can’t help but feel all light-headed and warm inside. You didn’t think this would be how the day ended, but you don’t regret it in the slightest. While you still have to tackle this problem with the takoyaki, you decide you can deal with it tomorrow.
For now, you just want to enjoy this blissful time with Tamaki.
The same hour of the following day, you’re back at it in the same home-ec room on the sixth floor with the same plate of takoyaki asking yourself the same question. You’ve already ruled out that it can’t be because of the takoyaki or Tamaki. Therefore, it has to be because of the feelings you’ve been putting in the takoyaki. But what could be wrong with them? You’ve been transferring your crush onto Tamaki in the takoyaki, so Tamaki would, subsequently, have a crush on you. Filling the takoyaki with your crush for him should make him have a crush on you because…well, because….
A lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally realize what you’ve been doing wrong this entire time! Because you’ve been inserting affectionate feelings for Tamaki, Tamaki would be falling in love with himself, not you! It would make perfect sense since Tamaki has told you that, after eating the takoyaki, he appreciated himself, even more so yesterday. You want to smack yourself in the face over how blatant your mistake was. If you want Tamaki to have feelings for you, you’re going to have to use the power of self-love!
Ugh, you don’t like how that sounded like a line from some corny kids show.
With a newfound determination over this breakthrough, you wash your hands thoroughly and snatch the blue gloves from its cardboard box, snapping them on yourself like a surgeon before surgery. Wiggling your fingers to better fit the glove, you’re extremely excited to use your quirk on the takoyaki, now knowing that your plan will definitely work.
As you cover the takoyaki with your hands, like you’ve been doing, you already arrive at a roadblock: you’re going to need to be in love with yourself.
How are you going to be like that? You’re not Narcissus, which is actually a good thing, but not in this case. Would you just have to just think of yourself just like how you think of Tamaki? Pretend you’re going on dates with yourself? You shudder at the thought; it’s kind of creepy to do that. Still, you’re going to have to do this in order for this to work.
With no other choice, you prepare yourself to replace Tamaki with yourself in those scenarios you have been imagining. You also remember to not go crazy with using your quirk, so Tamaki doesn’t worship the ground you walk on (not that you can imagine him doing that, even with the help of your quirk).
Your eye color. Your figure.
Walking through the park with you. Cooking up breakfast inside your kitchen with you.
You stop right then and there. Doing things with a clone of yourself is no different from doing things by yourself. You’re not a narcissist by any means, so the thought of such doesn’t make your heart rate go any faster, unlike Tamaki. How should you go about this? Your quirk won’t work unless you genuinely feel like you’re in love with yourself.
Tamaki’s words from yesterday ring in your mind, and you remember how flustered and undeserving you felt from his compliments. Would that work? Then again, you probably only felt that way because Tamaki’s the one who told you that.
You breathe out loudly through your nostrils, exasperated from being so close to getting what you want yet so far. In order for Tamaki to fall in love with you per your quirk, you would have to put feelings of self-love in the food. However, it’s not your traditional type of self-love, the kind where you appreciate everything about yourself. It would have to be a romantic type of love, which you can’t seem to, understandably, muster up for yourself.
Is there another way to make Tamaki have feelings for you? How does one have feelings? Well, if you follow the standard narrative, person A acquires feelings for person B by getting closer to person B. This is done by persons A and B getting to know more about each other and finding admirable qualities in the other person. So, should you think about what you like about yourself, or, in other words, the traditional self-love you ruled out earlier?
You want to smack yourself in the face again. At least this probable solution didn’t take you over three days to figure out. You’re not certain that this will work, but you can’t think of any other option. It’s worth a shot!
Placing your hands all over the takoyaki again, you take a deep breath and think about what you like about yourself.
Your eyes that take in the world and provide you a unique perspective in life. Your figure that adorns your clothing just as well as the mannequins in the department. Your hands that have cooked so many meals for your friends. Your arms that carry heavy packages to help your school host their well-renowned events. Your legs that rush you to your friends’ and family’s aid when they need them.
Your ability to cook delicious cuisine for your friends and family. Your concern for the wellbeing of others. Your other hobbies. Your classes. Your small business at UA.
Removing your hands from the takoyaki, a warm, fuzzy feeling pervades throughout your body. You didn’t think such a reflection would make you all sentimental. Satisfied with your work, you take off your gloves, place your hands on your hips, and admire the plate of takoyaki in front of you. Now, you just have to pack them up and—!
Wait. If Tamaki knows you’re trying to make someone fall in love with you with these takoyaki, then he’s definitely going to know you have feelings for him! Gah! Why did you have to feel all bad and tell him your intentions? Maybe you can give them to him under the guise of having him test it?
As you mull over how you’re going to give those takoyaki to Tamaki without him finding out you have a crush on him, the door behind you splits open, hitting the inside of the wall from the person sliding it so forcefully.
“(L/N)! It’s me, Mirio!”
You pivot around immediately, astonished by, not only Mirio’s surprise appearance, how many times you’ve been scared in this room by people coming into this room, “Mirio, you need to stop doing that!”
“Whoops, sorry!” he apologizes, but you know that he’s probably going to do it again if he ever finds you in here.
“You need something?” you ask absentmindedly, still wondering as to how you’re going to administer these takoyaki to Tamaki.
“Wanted to check in,” he spots the takoyaki you made and rushes over, “Oh, is that the takoyaki?!”
“Yes, but you—!”
Before you can finish giving your warning, Mirio takes a takoyaki and eats it. Your eyes widen. Your hand that tried to stop him is frozen in mid air. You’re absolutely flabbergasted. You’re positive you’ve shit yourself.
“M-Mirio!” you cry out, panicking and not knowing what to do, “You weren’t supposed to eat that!”
“Why? It’s so good!” he reaches for another, but you grab his wrist to stop him from eating any more.
You’re about to ask him if he’s feeling anything out of the ordinary, but he takes your hand in his, admiring it. Wait, wait, wait. Admiring?! Oh no, no no!
“(Y/N),” his eyes flutter from your hand to your face, “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”
“N-no, you haven’t,” you begin to sweat and freak out from both your takoyaki working and Mirio flirting with you.
“I should have a long time ago,” he leans closer to your face, and you draw back, “I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize that I’ve had feelings for you all this time!”
You wrench your hand out of his, but Mirio latches back on without delay, “M-Mirio, I need to put these away. May I please have my h-hand back?”
He pouts cutely and lets go of you begrudgingly, “Fine, do you need help?”
“N-no, I can manage!” you take a foil container and its clear lid out of the cabinet right away since you already know where they are.
As you relocate the remaining takoyaki into the tupperware, you desperately try to think of a way you can give these to Tamaki. What’re you going to tell him? Should you say that you think you finally got it and need him to try it? No, it wouldn’t make sense if you would give him all seven. Should you tell him that you don’t think you got it and want to give it to him? Maybe that will work? It’s worth a shot! He would eat all of the takoyaki and not question it.
Eager to finally complete phase one of your plan, you’re almost finished transferring most of the takoyaki into the tinfoil tray until Mirio calls out your name while adoring you with glistening eyes like that one emoji. Wow, he reminds you of a golden retriever. Ah, so he’s that type of partner. Makes sense actually.
Not wanting to leave him hanging any more, you seal the clear lid into the container and carry the takoyaki in both of your hands, showing it off to Mirio, “I need to deliver these to someone. Do you think you could stay here until I come back? Also, do you happen to know where Tamaki is?”
“Okay,” he obeys but frowns, and you almost relent to how adorable and compliant he’s being right now, “And Tamaki should be heading home now. If you run, you could catch him at the front gates. Do you want me to get you for him?”
“No, I’ll be okay, thank you,” you pat Mirio on the head to placate him and resist the urge to call him a “good boy”, “I promise I’ll be back soon!”
With your promise, Mirio allows you to leave, and you sprint out of the classroom, holding the tinfoil tray tightly in your hands. You run down and across halls, taking care not to bump into any students or teachers (the chance of bumping into either of those people is low since most of them are home or heading home). To save time, you nimbly run down the stairs and skip the last few by jumping over them.
As you get closer and closer to the front gates, your resolve starts to falter, and your steps become slower (also because you’re running out of energy). Is this really okay? Yes, this isn’t the first time you’ve wondered whether you should do this or not. However, now that you’re really about to go and do it, you’re not so sure anymore. Tamaki already knows that you were going to give these takoyaki to someone and make them have feelings for you, but he doesn’t know it’s for them; bless his heart for not judging you. Knowing you, you would probably feel bad for tricking him and come clean, telling him of your feelings anyways. I mean, you’ve already told him about the takoyaki. Why wouldn’t you tell him that the takoyaki was meant for him all this time?
Your run slows to a reluctant walk. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. You may have had the determination to do this earlier, but, when you think about how Tamaki stayed behind yesterday to help you out at the risk of being infatuated with you, you begin to feel rotten inside. How could you be so selfish and make Tamaki fall in love with you, even for a moment? Dealing with this crush would be a lot better than tricking one of your closest friends and betraying his trust.
Before you could turn the other way and throw out the takoyaki back in the home-ec room, you find Tamaki coming your way from the other side of the hallway. You immediately hide the takoyaki behind your back; Tamaki would definitely ask you about them if you saw.
“Oh, (L/N),” he calls out to you, and you ensure that the takoyaki is out of his sight, “Is something wrong?”
“N-nope!” you gulp, “Why were you coming this way? I thought you were going to be going home already.”
“Sorry, I was hoping to come help you with the takoyaki earlier, but I had to make up a test,” he meets you in the hallway halfway.
“O-oh, how did that go?” you adjust the takoyaki behind you in hopes of it being completely hidden from view.
“Fine,” he looks at you, perplexed as to why you’re here, “What’re you doing down here? I thought you would be working on the takoyaki upstairs.”
“O-oh, that?” you mentally curse over the shift in conversation but don’t elaborate.
“Yeah,” he answers, clearly wanting you to explain.
“W-well…” you think of something to say and, finding no reason to lie, tell him what happened (well, only what he needs to know), revealing the takoyaki behind your back, “I got it to work!”
“Oh, really?” Tamaki deflates at your answer, “That’s good then. Well…you don’t need my help anymore. I hope everything goes well with the person you’re giving them to.”
Before you can explain to him that you’re not going to give them to anyone anymore, he begins to walk away, and you chase after him, confused over his abrupt change in mood, “Wait, Tamaki, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he tells you, but you’re not convinced, “I just remembered that Fat Gum asked me to come to the office, so I have to go, sorry.”
“Y-you sure?” you, as always, don’t want to force him into answering, but you can’t help but be concerned, wanting to know the reason behind his sudden dejection and seeing if you can help him somehow.
“Yes, don’t worry,” Tamaki continues walking away from you, “Get home safe, (L/N).”
“You too…” you let him leave to Fat Gum, not wanting to impede his internship responsibilities.
You decide you should just go home, so you, with a heavy heart, go to your locker to get your bag and shoes. Finding a garbage can nearby, you toss out the takoyaki and try to push the atrabilious image of Tamaki out of your mind. You make a note to text Tamaki later tonight to make sure he’s all right.
What made him so upset?
Yawning, you pass through the front gates of UA with your school bag slung over your shoulder. You texted Tamaki last night, but the conversation didn’t last long. Tamaki gave short replies to your questions and didn’t ask you anything like he usually would. Figuring he probably just wanted to be alone, you bid him good night and set your phone to do not disturb. Even though you were the one to end the conversation, you’re still worried for Tamaki and hope that he’s feeling better today.
Before you get inside the colossus of a building you call a school, someone rushes over to you, almost tackling you into the ground like a rugby player from how forceful they were. You spot a tuft of golden rod hair, and you freeze in place. Oh, god.
“(Y/N)! I waited all morning for you!” Mirio aggressively rubs his cheek into yours to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if static electricity sparks between you two, “Where did you go yesterday? I waited all day at the home-ec room like you asked me to, but the security guard kicked me out!”
“I-I’m sorry, I completely forgot!” you try to remove yourself from him, but he pulls you in even tighter, ignoring the curious and confused stares from other students.
You begin to panic again, awaken from your half-asleep stupor. This doesn’t make any sense. Mirio should be back to normal by now. Why is he still in love with you? He shouldn’t be…unless—!
“That’s okay, (Y/N),” he finally backs away but keeps you in place by gripping your shoulders, “Your tasty takoyaki kept me company. They were really good! Can you make me some more please?”
“Wait,” you pale at what he just said, “Mirio, did you eat more of the takoyaki?”
“Yeah!” he beams at you like there was nothing wrong with that, and imprisons you again in a hug, “You left some, so I ate them!”
You groan inwardly, realizing you’re going to have to deal with a lovesick Mirio the entire day. Well, maybe not the entire day. After all, you don’t share any classes with him, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to avoid him during lunch. But…what’re you going to do about this?
“(L/N), what’s going on with Mirio?”
You yelp to find Nejire behind you, confused at Mirio embracing you tightly at the front of the school, “N-Nejire! Well, M-Mirio—!”
“We’re in love!” he chirps out, and you whip your head to him, absolutely appalled at what he just said.
“Really, (L/N)?” Nejire has a pleasant surprised look coating her face, her mouth slightly open and then covered with her hand, “And here I’ve always thought you had a crush on Tamaki!”
“N-no, we’re not in love, Nejire!” you ignore her last remark and repeatedly pat Mirio’s back for him to let you go, “M-Mirio, could you please?”
“Y-you don’t love me, (Y/N)?” Mirio whimpers and looks as though he’s about to cry.
“N-no, I d-do!” you lie to avoid any tear spillage so early in the morning, “but, if you could let go of me, that would be great, Mirio!”
Mollified by your answer, his arms slide off from yours, and you peel yourself from him. You now face a bemused Nejire and a devoted Mirio, almost seeing a tail wagging fervently side to side behind him.
Whispering your next words to Nejire, so Mirio doesn’t hear and get his heart broken, you lean in close to her ear, “So, yesterday, Mirio ate something of mine infused with romantic feelings, and now he’s in love with me. I don’t know what to do.”
“Ah,��� she says aloud and gives Mirio a one-over, “How long do you think he’ll last like this?”
“Uh,” you don’t know how many takoyaki Mirio ate, so you ask him, “Mirio, how many takoyaki did you eat yesterday?”
“I think three, but those three weren’t enough,” he pleads and tugs you in again by the shoulder, “I need you to make me some more today.”
“If you took three…” you multiply in your head to find out how long your quirk will last, “That would last twenty-seven hours…. You ate them at around 4 p.m, yesterday…. He’s going to be like this until at least seven o’clock tonight!”
“Oh, that’s not so bad,” Nejire shrugs, clearly not as distressed about this as you are, “You could just wait this out. Besides, you’re not the one who has class with him today. I don’t know how me and Tamaki are going to have to deal with a lovesick Mirio all day. I think it goes without saying that you don’t have to sit with us for lunch today. Also, why were there any love-infused takoyaki in the first place, hm, (L/N)?”
“Th-that’s not the issue right now, Nejire!” you’re never going to tell Nejire that the takoyaki were for Tamaki; she would have a field day with that, “And I feel bad for Mirio. It’s my fault he’s like this, but I’m not sure what I can do.”
“Right,” she holds her hands behind her back in thought and as calm as ever, “How about you make him something later after school? Make him something big enough to counteract the takoyaki and infuse them with hate or friendliness to reverse the love. He’ll gladly eat anything from you it seems.”
You slap your forehead at how easy the solution was, “How did I not think of that? Thanks so much, Nejire! But he’s going to have to wait until the end of the school day since I don’t have access to the cafeteria’s kitchen today. I could use a home-ec room, but I have class in the morning. Can you handle him till then?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about us,” Nejire forcibly yanks him off of you, adding more to the list of things you need to pay her back for, “Come on, big guy, let’s go.”
“But (Y/N),” Mirio lower’s lip juts out, and his arms helplessly reach out to you while Nejire drags him away like a toy wagon.
“You’ll see (L/N) later, but we have class,” she waves you a goodbye, which you return, and hauls Mirio to the front steps and into UA.
“I love you, (Y/N)!” he yells out, and you desperately wish to burrow yourself into a hole and never come out.
Who knows how many people have seen Mirio confess his feelings to you and repeatedly touch you in more-than-a-friend ways? Hopefully, this doesn’t reach Oshima and Yaginuma; you don’t want to have to explain the whole love takoyaki situation to them.
Heaving a huge sigh, you are finally able to enter the school building, heading to your locker to change your shoes. Only seven more hours until you can make that antidote for Mirio.
Also, it was a bit strange to not find Tamaki with Nejire. Usually, those three came together, but only Nejire came on her own. Mirio was understandable since he woke up at the crack of dawn to wait for you at the school gate. You hope he’s okay and pick up the pace to avoid being late to your first class.
As you’re sitting with Oshima and Yaginuma, laughing about Yaginuma’s lustrous thoughts over Chris Hemsworth in the latest trailer of the new Thor movie, Mirio strides over to your table, and you immediately want to run away.
“(Y/N)!” he picks you up from your chair bridal style as if you’re nothing but a feather, and your friends both drop their cutlery into their bowls, not having been informed of his current predicament, “I missed you so much today! Come sit with me and everyone else at lunch!”
“‘(Y/N)’?’ Oshima incredulously quotes him using your first name, something no one has done before.
“U-uh, I’ll explain later, promise!” you struggle in his arms, but he keeps you secure (curse his muscles), “M-Mirio, I promised Oshima and Yagniuma that I would sit with them today. I’m sorry!”
Like a kicked puppy, his metaphorical dog ears curl down, and he’s barely maintaining his composure, “B-but!”
Not wanting him to burst into tears like he almost did this morning, you have no choice but to eat with him at lunch, “Fine, fine, Mirio! I’ll eat with you, but could you put me down, please?”
“Nope!” he swiftly takes you away from your friends like a knight rescuing a princess from the big, scary dragon.
Becoming a spectacle for the lunch room, you cover your face in your hands, knowing it’s now impossible for there to be no rumors about you two. Mirio doesn’t necessarily run to the lunch table, but it doesn’t take long for him to stop at a table. You uncover your face to find Nejire smiling pitifully at you and Tamaki avoiding looking at the two of you, finding his lunch more interesting. They were sitting next to each other, leaving two empty pull-out chairs for you and Mirio.
“You’re sitting next to me today, (Y/N)!” he gracefully slides you in the seat on the inside facing Tamaki before sitting on the chair adjacent to you.
“He was insufferable today, (L/N),” Nejire complains before stabbing into her food, “All throughout training, he kept on going, ‘I wonder what (Y/N) is doing?’ and, ‘I can’t wait to see (Y/N) later!’ I tried to tell him that you were eating with your friends, but he wouldn’t listen. How was it in math, Tamaki?”
Tamaki, unprepared for the conversation to be handed over to him, jolts in his seat and glimpses at you and Nejire before staring back at his lunch, just like he had when he first met you, “Yeah, pretty bad as well, but it’s to be expected. It’s no surprise Mirio would be an…excited boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry for all the trouble guys,” you wince at his response, still feeling something is off with him, “Tamaki, how’re you feeling today?”
“…All right, thanks,” he curtly answers before eating more of his lunch.
“That’s good…” you can’t remember when the air was so stagnant between the two of you and don’t know what to do about it.
You’re about to unbox your lunch bag only to find that you left it with Oshima and Yagniuma. Groaning, you faceplant into the table, not happy with how today has been going.
“Oh, (L/N), where’s your lunch?” Nejire asks innocently, but the question only irates you, making you upset at Mirio for snatching you without letting you take your lunch with you.
Breathing out, you lift your head up and rest your chin on the table instead, “When Mirio took me away, I left my lunch box at my old table. So, now, I don’t have lunch.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, (Y/N)!” Mirio scoops a portion of his food on his spoon and holds it out for you to take, “Here, have some of mine!”
“Oh, I’m good, Mirio,” you retract from it, not wanting to be fed by Mirio, while trying to keep your cool, fully aware that it’s no one’s fault but your fault for making him act this way.
“Nonsense, I can’t have you starve!” he force-feeds you his spoonful, and you have no choice but to accept it.
“Oh, you guys are so cute, I think I’m going to vomit,” Nejire fake gags and laughs innocently at her own comment as you sulk at her
Teasing from Nejire can be downright vexing, and you should know from all those times she’s made fun of you and Tamaki. On the other hand, Tamaki stands up from his chair and darts out of the cafeteria, his lunch unfinished. You watch his hurrying form on the way out, now extremely worried for him.
“Is he okay?” you ask Nejire; maybe he had told her instead of you.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” she rests her head on her hand while taking another bite of her meal, “He’s probably just having stomach issues or something.”
“Oh, no,” you immediately feel bad for him, not knowing he was in such pain, especially with his food-related quirk, “I’ll make him soup later then.”
“I don’t think that would help,” she took a sip from her thermos of tea without elaborating.
“Here, (Y/N)!” Mirio sticks the spoon in your mouth without warning, almost making you choke on it.
You glance at the clock in the cafeteria to gauge the time. Only four more hours, and this would end.
After giving Mirio a soup filled with friendliness, you explained to him how he ended up in that situation while he took more and more sips of the soup. The more he ate, the more terrified his face turned.
“I cannot believe I did all of that,” he buries his face in his hands while sitting at the countertop in the same home-ec room with a bowl of eaten soup before him, “I am so sorry, (L/N). I remember doing everything, but it was like I didn’t have any control over myself.”
“It’s fine,” you wave it off, pouring some soup from the pot into an empty container to give to Tamaki later, “After all, it was all my fault you fell in love with me.”
“Right,” Mirio looks confused at the bowl before him and asks you a question for the first time since you recounted what has happened in the past twenty-four hours, “Wait, I thought you were making ‘Happiness Takoyaki.’ Why were they ‘Fall-In-Love Takoyaki’?”
“O-oh, why?” you feel yourself break into a nervous sweat, fiddling with your hands, “N-no reason.”
“(L/N),” he sits up in his stool, staring at you straight in the eyes, “Does this have anything to do with your crush on Tamaki?”
“Wh-what’re you talking about?” you avert the question, not thinking he would ask you something so plainly.
“(L/N),” he calls you by your last name again as if you can’t escape this, “Nejire and I talk about it all the time. It’s so obvious you like him.”
“I—,” you raise the white flag of defeat, finding it fruitless to lie to Mirio about something he already knows about (besides, Mirio isn’t that bad when it comes to shipping you two compared to Nejire), “Sigh, yes, I do like Tamaki, and, yes, the takoyaki does have to something to do with my crush him.”
“Oh, I didn’t think you would actually admit it!” Mirio smacks his knee and laughs, “I had my suspicions, but that really confirmed it! Wait till I tell Nejire this!”
You blanch at him, having just revealed your greatest secret that not even Oshima and Yagniuma know, “Y-you didn’t actually know!?”
“Like I said,” he grins cheekily, and you feel so tempted to smack off that smug sneer of his, “I had my suspicions. Don’t worry, I’m not actually going to tell Nejire. She wouldn’t tell him, but her teasing would get far worse.”
“Thanks,” you huff out, crossing your arms over your chest.
“So, I’m assuming you were going to give those takoyaki to him?” Mirio continues eating his soup while waiting for an answer.
“Yeah,” you inhale a deep breath before relaying what your grand master plan was to get over him, “I was going to give those takoyaki to him, so I could see what it would be like for Tamaki to like me. After a week, everything would go back to normal, and I would be over him. When they worked on you, I packed some for him to eat but then scrapped the idea on the way to him. Safe to say, I’m not going to do anything like this again.”
The blonde in front of you chews thoughtfully and swallows before replying, “Well, that didn’t seem like a smart plan. Wouldn’t Tamaki remember everything in the end like I did?”
You hadn’t even thought of that, and you think about how narrowly you dodged a bullet, “You’re right. It’s a good thing I didn’t go through with it.”
“You didn’t even need to do it anyways,” he drinks the remaining broth while your heart stops at his words.
“Mirio, what was that?” you ask, trying to keep your urgency at bay.
“…What was what?” he plays dumb, but you’re not going to fall for it.
“You just said, ‘You didn’t even need to do it anyways,’” you come closer to him across the counter, “What did you mean by that?”
“It’s nothing,” he tries to hide from you by eating the rest of the soup only to find he had finished it.
“Mirio,” you enjoin him for an answer, “I just told you I have a crush on Tamaki. You can’t just say that and not tell me what it means.”
“(L/N), Tamaki’s been my friend since middle school,” Mirio doesn’t budge, his eyes sterner than before, “I can’t tell you that.”
Knowing that he’s not going to tell you, you turn your back to him and put away everything you used to make the soup, snatching Mirio’s bowl in front of him. You know it’s petty, but, if he’s not going to say anything, neither are you. As you indignantly wash the dishes, the clattering of the sink and bowls causing a ruckus in the home-ec room, you hear Mirio let out a sigh.
“Why do you think he was like that today?” he caves in, not happy that he had to, though, “Why do you think he left the cafeteria in such a hurry?”
You cut off the rushing water from the tap and look back at him, “Nejire said he was having stomach problems. That’s why I made the soup.”
“It’s because he was jealous, (L/N),” he corrects you while you almost drop the wet bowl in your hands from shock, “He was jealous of me treating you like you were my significant other.”
“J-jealous?” you repeat, unsure if you heard what he just said or not, “B-but surely he knew what happened with the takoyaki!”
“Did he though?” he leaves his seat and stops by the door, “If you want to find him, he should be done with his training and on his way out now.”
Processing this information, you realize you’re going to have to run if you want to catch him in time and bolt out the door, “Thanks, Mirio! See you tomorrow!”
You don’t even hear him say goodbye back from how far you’ve managed to run already. You’re positive you’ve never ran this fast before, not even when you were in the last lap in the relay race in junior high! With what Mirio said…. Does this mean Tamaki has feelings for you? There’s just no way though…but, if what Mirio said is true, then—!
Pushing yourself to run faster, you practically fly over multiple steps and even jump down from one stairwell to the next, miraculously without injuring yourself. What were you even going to say to him? “Hey, Mirio just told me you felt extremely jealous, so do you have a crush on me?” That’s too straightforward!
Spotting the open front doors on the floor below you, you leap over the last five steps and sprint to the doors to find one lone figure with indigo hair. You catch your breath and run outside to find the sun about to set, coloring the sky a mellow pink and orange. Tamaki doesn’t seem to notice you behind him as he keeps his pace and direction.
“Tamaki!” you yell out to get his attention as you wheeze, not having run like that ever.
Startled by your shout, he swivels around to find you bent over and struggling for air, “(L-L/N)?! Is everything okay?”
“Y…yeah,” you take a huge breath of air before continuing, “Ran from…the sixth floor…home-ec room! G…give me…a minute!”
He gives you that minute, but, when you’re still unresponsive, he decides to resume the conversation, “…By the way, Nejire was right. You and Mirio do look good for each other.”
“Wh…what?” you wipe the sweat from your forehead, and your breathing returns to normal.
“I know that the takoyaki was meant for you to see what it would be like for Mirio to like you back, but,” he holds onto his arm while avoiding any eye contact with you, “I think Mirio likes you as well. So, you don’t—.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” you wave your hands, trying to understand what Tamaki was saying, “You think I have a crush on Mirio?”
“Weren’t the takoyaki for Mirio?” he now looks puzzled himself, looking at you again, “I mean, it clearly worked, judging by today.”
“No, no, Tamaki,” your hands start to sweat, knowing he misunderstood everything this whole time, “The takoyaki were never for him. I don’t like Mirio like that.”
“O-oh,” he blinks and stands up straighter like a weight’s been lifted off of him, “Th-then why was he all…?”
“He accidentally ate my takoyaki when I finally got it to work,” you sigh, remembering how troublesome he was today, “I didn’t explain at lunch because I thought Nejire had already told you everything today, sorry.”
“No, she didn’t,” he shakes his head but seems better than he was before, “and it’s all right.”
The wind whistles faintly behind you, blowing your hair as well as Tamaki’s. You are both awkwardly standing there, and you remember what you had originally come down here for.
“T-Tamaki,” you swallow, preparing yourself to ask him the questions that’s been swimming around your mind since you left that home-ec room, “Mirio told me that the reason why you left the cafeteria earlier today is because…because you were jealous. I-is that true?”
His eyes widen at your question, and his head turns to the side while the grip on his arm becomes firmer, evident by how his sleeve creases under his hand. His free hand clenches and unclenches. From the side, you can see his cheeks inflame into a furious red. He slowly turns his head back to you, and his face shoots an arrow right to your heart. The blush dusts his cheeks, and his brows are nervously turnt upward.
“I-it’s true,” he buries his face in his hands, unable to admit it to your face, “I was jealous of Mirio. I’m sorry, I have no right to be jealous of him! I-I’m only your friend. I—!”
“Why were you jealous?” your chest rapidly rises up and down from your rapid intakes of breath, this time not from strenuous activity but from hope fluttering in your heart.
“I-I—!” his hands drop from his face, mortified to answer, and he clamps his eyes tight, reigning his nerves in to properly answer, “I-I was jealous because…b-because I like you, (L/N)!”
You gasp, hearing the words you thought you would hear only in your dreams and fantasies, and Tamaki takes this as a negative reaction, “I-I’m sorry, (L/N)! I-I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship like this! B-but when you told me about the takoyakis…and then Mirio…! I know you don’t like me back—I mean, how could you like someone like me?—, but please—!”
“Tamaki!” you stop him from rambling any further, not liking where it was going, “Stop! I like you as well!”
“I-I don’t want this to—!” he, at last, stops talking after he hears what you’ve said, “Wh-what did you just say?”
“Tamaki, I like you too,” you repeat and approach him closer, not believing this is happening right now, “Those takoyaki were for you all along. I’m sorry that I tried to trick you into eating them! I was hoping to feed them to you somehow and get over you that way, but I couldn’t do it in the end. But still! I still tried to do it, and I’m so sorry. I can’t apologize enough!”
“(L-L/N),” he doesn’t move from his spot, and you stop, not sure what he’s about to say, “Th-that’s okay! What matters is that you didn’t do it in the end…and I’m really glad you didn’t do it!”
You sigh with immense relief and advance forward until you’re mere centimeters apart. Despite the both of you confessing your feelings for each other, you still note Tamaki’s uneasiness and are confused. You like him. He likes you back. What’s wrong? Before you can ask him, he beats you to it.
“…Are you sure you don’t like Mirio or someone else?” he mutters, but you hear every word clearly, your heart falling to the pits of your stomach, “I mean, I’m not the most social or confident person. I have trouble talking to most people, and I always bring down the mood with my self-deprecation. Being with me…. It would only bring someone as bright as you down.”
“Oh, Tamaki,” you quickly yet gently cup his face in your hands, giving him no choice but to look into your eyes, “Tamaki, I don’t care about any of that. Yes, you are introverted, and, yes, you can be insecure. But, you are so much more than that. You are so hardworking to get where you are now. You care so much about your friends. You helped me so much with the takoyakis, even though you like me. Tamaki, I like you for you, and nothing can change that. I promise you only you can make me feel this way.”
“(L/N)…” he trails off, speechless at your confession and what you thought about him, despite hearing an attenuated version of it only two days ago, “Then, if you’ll have me, please…be mine…(Y/N).”
Hearing your first name from him spikes your heartrate up by a few beats, and you can’t help the smile that makes its way up your face, “All yours, Amajiki.”
With unfound courage and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you close your eyes and delicately place your lips over Amajiki’s, the two of you slotting together perfectly like the last two puzzle pieces to complete the picture. Amajiki stiffens, not expecting for you to kiss him so suddenly, before kissing back, his trembling hands find solace over your own. His hands cease their tremors once they confirm that this is all real, that you are kissing him. You open your eyes and regretfully break away for a need of oxygen, but, the moment you do, his hands slide to the back of your neck. Butterflies flit about in your stomach at the sudden contact, and then, after gazing into your eyes for a brief moment to drink in the sight of you, he kisses you again with a tender sort of passion, more assured of himself. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss and close your eyes again, your hands slipping from his cheeks to hang loosely behind his neck. Letting Amajiki take charge, this kiss lasts longer than the last, but, as all good things come to an end, he detaches his lips from yours, noticeably more tumescent than before.
“Was that…okay?” he breathes out, slightly out of breath from earlier.
You give him a quick peck before answering, “Absolutely perfect.”
The two of you remain in that position for a little while until Amajiki breaks the silence, “So, what happens now?”
“Well,” you hum in thought and remember the soup that’s waiting all by itself upstairs, “Nejire told me you were having stomach pains when you left so suddenly during lunch, so I made you a soup, unaffected by my quirk of course. Well, you probably don’t need it since you were only jealous.”
“Don’t remind me, (Y/N),” Amajiki hides his face in his hands, embarrassed by being jealous of his best friend, “and I would still love to eat that soup. Your cooking’s really good.”
“Then, let’s head upstairs,” you take his hand in yours, and the two of you walk back into UA and into the sixth floor home-ec room.
END NOTE: after five long months, i have returned! i actually came up with the idea for this fic way back in february the night before my first midterm and started writing this a little over two months ago. i watched a tik tok where it was a love potion au between two characters. one character accidentally tries what the other character was making, which was a love potion, and falls in love with that character. obviously, this fic heavily strayed away from the original idea, but i’m mostly happy with the way it turned out, especially my kiss scene (i guess dating someone does help your writing, haha!)! it took me so long to make this, and i only finally finished because i’m procrastinating studying for finals right now, haha! this is the first time i’ve ever written something in one part that was over ten thousand words. the second half was written when i was half tired and running out of words to use, so i’m sorry if it’s not really up to par as compared to the first half (happens a lot when i write, it seems). also, the gradient in the line breaks are tamaki and mirio's hair color! i'll be making a separate post detailing as to why i wrote tamaki, the reader, and the kiss scene the way i did because i think this post is already so long for tumblr (also because i can't add anymore photos). to end this, i wanted to show this picture by lara.png on twitter i found while looking up reference pictures for tamaki. i think it perfectly captures how i imagined tamaki to look at you during the confession scene! i hope everyone has a good night/day, and hope to see you in the near future!
here's the video to the takoyaki recipe i used to write this:
youtube
comments, likes, and reblogs are super appreciated :> if you have any other tags or tws i should mention, lemme know in the comments! i'm still not good at tagging or tws, so i'm not sure if there's anything i missed.
#boku no academia#my hero academia#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#tamaki amajiki#tamaki amajiki x reader#amajiki x reader#gender neutral reader#fluff#angst#jealousy#misunderstanding#pining#love confessions#happy ending#strangers to lovers#best friends to lovers#kiss#pre canon#high school#ua academy#second pov#oneshot#reader insert#fanfiction#tw insecurity#《angel writes》#《big shot》
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“Coffee and spilled tea” ☕️
“A chaotic cross-over of coffee with friends and the tea spilled during conversations” ☕️
In the cozy ambiance of the café,
amidst the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, our conversation danced from movies to intriguing octopus tidbits to the latest coffee flavors.
Laughter bubbled up as we exchanged anecdotes and shared jokes, reveling in the simple pleasure of each other's company and the delightful chaos of our coffee-fueled banter.
Chillin' at the café, our chat bounced around like popcorn in a hot pan.
From flicks to funky octopus facts to the bomb coffee flavors, we were all over the map.
Laughter echoed as we soaked up the good vibes, just enjoying each other's company and the laid-back fun of our coffee hangout.
-ri
Stay tuned for more discussions over coffee *hehe*
Photo and captions by: Priyanka chowdhary
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Poetry Corner
Finally: Fred Flintstone manages to have
Baby Puss out of the house for the night.
And you wonder how that could be:
It seems Baby Puss must've been attracted
by the aroma of sabertooth feline desire
in the arroyo just downhill, more or less,
carried on a mild prehistoric wind as reached
the Flintstone residence--and Baby Puss' nostrils.
Thankfully, Fred Flintstone will be somewhat
satisfied to see Baby Puss engaging in something
other than those lock-him-out-of-the-house antics
we've grown accustomed to for some reason--
but you wonder how Fred and Wilma's response will be
when it turns out Baby Puss is a father,
and several times over.
Yet what must be the romantic charm of Baby Puss
to the feral sabretooth females seeking mates generally
and Baby Puss specifically?
*************
@warnerbrosentertainment @groovybribri @jellystone-enjoyer @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @artistic-octopus @restroom @archive-archives @thebigdingle @screamingtoosoftly @thylordshipofbutts @themineralyoucrave @warnerbros-blog1 @iheartgod175 @indigo-corvus @theweekenddigest @funtasticworld @warnerbrosent-blog
#hanna barbera#poetry#poesy#the flintstones#baby puss#prehistoric sexuality#sabretooth tiger#sabretooth mating#how will it all turn out?#hannabarberaforever
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Hopeless Fairy Boy
Your POV
The ding of the oven distracted you from your current task.
As you were rearranging your wardrobe, you decided you simply had nothing you could have worn to attend the contest anyway. Now you knew you were just inventing excuses. You wanted to be armed with one should you run into Link. But you knew Link. You knew him well enough to know he would never buy such a lousy excuse. You let out a hopeless sigh. You ran down to the kitchen to get your handywork out of the oven.
You grabbed a pair of oversized oven mitts. You opened the oven and slid out two crisped, golden brown cucco pot pies. You figured if you had the ingredients and were already doing the work, why not make two? Now as you stood looking at the two pies, you began to wonder; who would eat the other one?
You thought about bringing the other one over to Anju as a thank you. She could split it with her brother Grog, the resident grump of Kakariko. Grog was a bit of a misanthropist. He hated most people, but for some reason you didn't seem to get under his skin. Also, Grog was so emaciated the carbohydrate laden pot pie might do him some good.
You took a fork and pierced the flaky crust. Some of the creamy sauce seeped through, causing your stomach to growl. You were seduced by the comforting aroma of gluten, cucco meat, and herbs that surrounded you. Link would...you stopped yourself.
You scolded yourself aloud, "I need to stop thinking about Link." Right now, some gorgeous Hylian was probably spoon feeding him some preposterous concoction. You slammed the oven shut, your mood quickly turning sour. You decided for the remainder of the day you would lie low. Kakariko had seven years of sour events occur, why walk outside and add to it with your bitter mood. You left the pies to cool and went back to your room.
You stared at your f/c, satin sheets and how inviting they looked. You curled in your bed in a fetal position, shutting your eyes. You weren't surprised by the tear that trickled from your eye onto your pillow. The anxiety of the announcement of Link's betrothal closing in on you.
Whoever she may be, you wondered if you could share his favorite recipes with her. It was also important she know, Link abhorred octopus. You didn't realize it, but you cried yourself to sleep.
Link POV
Malon stood in front of Link. An endearing grin smeared across her face. "So, this isn't a dish per say. But as you know, Lon Lon milk is highly nutritious thanks to our grass-fed cows and-"
Link began to laugh at his friend. "That is so like you to use this competition to try and sell milk." Link shook his head, grateful for his friend's presence. Round two, the cooking round, was a snore fest. Link had to admit Malon's presence helped lighten the heavy rejection that was weighing on his soul.
"Why else would I enter this competition? To marry you?" She asked with an innocent flutter of her lashes. Then her eyes began to rapidly scan the contestants. "The one contestant I expected to see here is surprisingly not here. I could win this here thing!" Link knew she meant Y/N. He pressed his lips into a thin line. The hope he felt earlier slowly fading out of his system.
"She'll be here," he said rather defensively. "She's just late."
"Fairy boy, we are halfway through the competition." Malon's expression went soft, "you did tell her to enter...right?"
"Of course, I did! I asked her to come support me."
Malon face palmed herself. She pushed the bottle of Lon Lon milk forward. A gesture declaring Link drink it. "Maybe the nutrients will strengthen your brain cells. If I was Y/N I would take that statement as support your decision. Not support you by entering."
Oh... Link's eyes went wide. Had he made it sound that way? In an instant Link realized he couldn't recall how exactly he had worded his invitation. Whenever he saw Y/N, his mind simply went blank. He could focus on nothing else but your luscious, l/c lips he wanted to taste. The amount of power you weld over him, scared him. The fact of the matter was, he could defeat any dungeon or monster. What he couldn't seem to defeat were the thoughts of you that consumed him. Link knew these precious thoughts of you were what pushed him to continue fighting for Hyrule. In Link's mind he was not the true hero, you were.
The compulsive thoughts of you sometimes rendered him awkward. He would defend himself by using the same excuse; being tired from knight training. However, that was far from the truth. Link was never more awake than when he set his eyes on you.
"Earth to fairy boy, "Malon frantically waved a hand in front of him.
"Malon, what have I done?" Link whispered, realizing the misunderstanding he had created.
"Well, don't lose hope fairy boy. You said she may be late, right?" Malon gave Link a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before being ushered away by the announcer. The next contestant walked up, making sure she bent down so her cleavage would fall from her ill-fitting corset.
She placed a dish of steaming octopus in front of him. No doubt it was a seasoned octorok.
Yuck.
Y/N knew all of his favorite dishes. She also knew that Link absolutely abhorred octopus.
Link to Wattpad and other fanfics below 👇🏻
#legend of zelda#link#loz#link x reader#fanfiction#ocarina of time#zelda ocarina of time#oot#romance#smutty#smutwarning#wattpad#fanfic
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🇫🇷❓❓Hello les amoureux du tire-bouchon. Et vous, Connaissez-vous l'appellation Corse Porto Vecchio ❓❓🇫🇷
🍇🍷Aop Corse Porto-Vecchio rosé 2022 cuvée Monika du domaine Granajolo🍇🍷:
🍇 :
Niellucciu
Sciaccarellu
🏺:
Elevage : 3 mois en cuve inox.Sulfitage à faibles doses. Cuvée produite en petite quantité (3000 bouteilles).
🌿:
Bio
💰:
17,40€ / bouteille
👁️ :
Un robe de couleur rose saumonée soutenue
👃 :
Un nez sur des notes de fruits rouges, épices.
💋 :
En bouche on a un vin léger et fruité. Une belle minéralité. Sur des arômes de fraise, groseille, griotte, Grenadine. Une belle longueur en bouche avec une finale sur des notes acidulé style bonbon Arlequin et les agrumes qui apporte une belle fraîcheur en fin de bouche.
📜En résumé📜 :
Un beau rosé Corse frais, léger et savoureux. Un avant-goût de vacances qui appelle le soleil et la détente. Un vin adapté à la canicule. Très heureux d'avoir pu déguster cette cuvée produite en quantités limitées.
🧆Dégusté sur des Pâtes à la ricotta 🧆.
🍷Quelques accords mets et vin possible avec cette cuvée🍷 : Papillotes de saumon à la tomate, Pizza, Salade de poulpes, Tataki de thon rouge....
📌N'oubliez pas, boire un canon c'est sauver
un vigneron. Allez voir le site internet du domaine pour voir toutes les cuvées et promotions du moment📌.
🔞« L'abus d'alcool est dangereux pour la santé, à consommer avec modération »🔞 La plupart des vins ont été dégustés et recrachés. Dégustation non rémunéré.
#lesdegustationsugo #wine #winelover #vino #winetasting #winetime #winelovers #instawine #redwine #winestagram #winery #beer #wineoclock #vin #sommelier #love #vinho #foodporn #winelife #instagood #whitewine #cocktails #drinks #wein #foodie #wineporn #drink
___________________________________________
🇫🇷🗣️Description du Domaine 🇫🇷🗣️
Le vignoble a été planté en 1974 par Monika et André Boucher. D’une superficie de 20 hectares, il a toujours été conduit en agriculture biologique, une conviction d’André Boucher (1ère certification en 1987).
Monika et AndréIl est situé sur des coteaux d’arène granitique à l’extrême sud est de l’île à Sainte-Lucie de Porto-Vecchio. Il se compose essentiellement de cépages corses qui sont principalement le Niellucciu, le Sciaccarellu et le Vermentinu.
André Boucher livra dans un premier temps ses raisins en caves coopératives avant de trouver une cave qui accepta de vinifier son vin en prestation de service avec les contraintes liées au bio.
Après avoir obtenu son diplôme d’œnologue et avoir acquis de l’expérience en vinifiant en France et en Australie, Gwenaële, leur fille, rentra sur le domaine en 2000. C’est avec sa mère Monika, qu’elle monta un projet de cave sur l’exploitation et que le vin 2003 vit le jour dans cette nouvelle cave.
___________________________________________
⏬🇫🇷Français dans les commentaires🇫🇷🇮🇹Italiano nei commenti 🇮🇹⏬
🇬🇧❓❓Hello corkscrew lovers. And you, Do you know the Corsica Porto Vecchio appellation ❓❓🇬🇧
🍇🍷AOP Corsica Porto-Vecchio rosé 2022 cuvée Monika from the Granajolo estate 🍇🍷:
🍇:
Niellucciu
Sciaccarellu
🏺:
Ageing: 3 months in stainless steel vats. Low doses of sulphiting. Cuvée produced in small quantities (3000 bottles).
🌿:
Organic
💰:
€17.40 / bottle
👁️:
A deep salmon pink color
👃:
A nose with notes of red fruits, spices.
💋:
On the palate we have a light and fruity wine. A nice minerality. With aromas of strawberry, currant, Morello cherry, Grenadine. A nice length in the mouth with a finish on tangy Arlequin candy-like notes and citrus fruits which brings a nice freshness on the finish.
📜In summary📜:
A beautiful, fresh, light and tasty Corsican rosé. A taste of vacation that calls for sun and relaxation. A wine adapted to the heat wave. Very happy to have been able to taste this cuvée produced in limited quantities.
🧆Tasted on ricotta pasta 🧆.
🍷 Some food and wine pairings possible with this cuvée 🍷: Tomato salmon papillote, Pizza, Octopus salad, Red tuna tataki....
📌 Don't forget, drinking a cannon is saving a winemaker. Go see the domain's website to see all the vintages and promotions of the moment 📌.
🔞 "Alcohol abuse is dangerous for your health, consume in moderation"🔞 Most of the wines have been tasted and spat out. Unpaid tasting.
#lesdegustationsugo #wine #winelover #vino #winetasting #winetime #winelovers #instawine #redwine #winestagram #winery #beer #wineoclock #vin #sommelier #love #vinho #foodporn #winelife #instagood #whitewine #cocktails #drinks #wein #foodie #wineporn #drink
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🇬🇧🗣️Domain Description 🇬🇧🗣️
The vineyard was planted in 1974 by Monika and André Boucher. Covering an area of 20 hectares, it has always been conducted in organic farming, a conviction of André Boucher (1st certification in 1987).
Monika et AndréIt is located on granite arena slopes in the extreme south east of the island in Sainte-Lucie de Porto-Vecchio. It is essentially composed of Corsican grape varieties which are mainly Niellucciu, Sciaccarellu and Vermentinu.
André Boucher initially delivered his grapes to cooperative cellars before finding a cellar that agreed to vinify his wine as a service with the constraints linked to organic.
After graduating as an oenologist and gaining experience by making wine in France and Australia, Gwenaële, their daughter, returned to the estate in 2000. It was with her mother Monika that she set up a cellar project on the farm and that the 2003 wine was born in this new cellar.
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🇮🇹❓❓Ciao amanti dei cavatappi. E tu, conosci la denominazione Corsica Porto Vecchio❓❓🇮🇹
🍇🍷AOP Corsica Porto-Vecchio rosé 2022 cuvée Monika della tenuta Granajolo 🍇🍷:
🍇:
Niellucciu
Sciaccarellu
🏺:
Affinamento: 3 mesi in vasche di acciaio inox Basse dosi di solfitazione. Cuvée prodotte in piccole quantità (3000 bottiglie).
🌿:
Biologico
💰:
€ 17,40 / bottiglia
👁️:
Colore rosa salmone intenso
👃:
Un naso con note di frutti rossi, spezie.
💋:
Al palato abbiamo un vino leggero e fruttato. Una bella mineralità. Con aromi di fragola, ribes, marasca, granatina. Una bella lunghezza in bocca con un finale su note piccanti simili a caramelle Arlequin e agrumi che apportano una bella freschezza sul finale.
📜In sintesi📜:
Un rosato corso bello, fresco, leggero e gustoso. Un assaggio di vacanza che richiede sole e relax. Un vino adatto all'ondata di caldo. Molto felice di aver potuto assaggiare questa cuvée prodotta in quantità limitate.
🧆Assaggiato su pasta di ricotta 🧆.
🍷 Alcuni abbinamenti enogastronomici possibili con questa cuvée 🍷: Papillote di salmone al pomodoro, Pizza, Insalata di polpo, Tataki di tonno rosso....
📌 Non dimenticare, bere un cannone è salvare un enologo. Vai a vedere il sito del dominio per vedere tutte le annate e le promozioni del momento 📌.
🔞 "L'abuso di alcol è pericoloso per la salute, consumalo con moderazione"🔞 La maggior parte dei vini è stata assaggiata e sputata. Degustazione non pagata.
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🗣️🇮🇹Descrizione i Dominio 🗣️🇮🇹
Il vigneto è stato piantato nel 1974 da Monika e André Boucher. Su una superficie di 20 ettari, è sempre stato condotto in agricoltura biologica, convinzione di André Boucher (1a certificazione nel 1987).
Monika et AndréSi trova sulle pendici dell'arena granitica nell'estremo sud-est dell'isola a Sainte-Lucie de Porto-Vecchio. È composto essenzialmente da vitigni corsi che sono principalmente Niellucciu, Sciaccarellu e Vermentinu.
André Boucher ha inizialmente consegnato le sue uve alle cantine cooperative prima di trovare una cantina che ha accettato di vinificare il suo vino come servizio con i vincoli legati al biologico.
Dopo essersi diplomata come enologa e aver fatto esperienza vinificando in Francia e in Australia, Gwenaële, la loro figlia, è tornata in azienda nel 2000. È stato con sua madre Monika che ha avviato un progetto di cantina in azienda e che il vino 2003 è nato in questa nuova cantina.
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A Delightful Food Tour In Japan: Exploring The Culinary Wonders
Japan, a country renowned for its rich culture, breathtaking landscapes, and fascinating traditions, is also a culinary paradise for food enthusiasts. Embarking on a food tour in Japan is a journey that promises an explosion of flavors, textures, and aromas.
From world-famous sushi to delectable street food and Nishiki Market, each region in Japan boasts its own unique gastronomic treasures. In this blog, we will take you on a virtual food tour, exploring some of the must-try dishes and culinary experiences that make Japan a dream destination for food lovers.
Savoring Sushi in Tokyo
No food tour in Japan would be complete without experiencing the epitome of Japanese cuisine: sushi. Head to Tokyo's renowned Tsukiji Fish Market, where you can witness the vibrant seafood auctions and indulge in the freshest sushi you'll ever taste.
Be sure to try nigiri sushi, a delicate combination of hand-pressed rice topped with various types of seafood, such as tuna, salmon, and eel. For an extraordinary dining experience, visit a sushiya (sushi restaurant) where skilled chefs create edible art before your eyes.
Ramen Adventure in Fukuoka
Fukuoka, the birthplace of tonkotsu ramen, is a must-visit city on your food tour. Slurping a bowl of rich, creamy tonkotsu broth with tender slices of pork and springy noodles is a true delight. Explore the city's bustling ramen stalls, known as yatai, which come alive in the evening. Sit among locals, strike up a conversation, and immerse yourself in the vibrant atmosphere while savoring this soul-soothing comfort food.
Exquisite Kaiseki in Kyoto
In the historic city of Kyoto, prepare to be captivated by the artistry of kaiseki, a traditional multi-course dining experience. Kaiseki showcases the harmony of flavors, textures, and seasonal ingredients. Each meticulously prepared dish is a work of culinary perfection. From delicate sashimi to grilled fish, simmered vegetables, and fragrant rice, every bite tells a story. Kyoto's tea houses and ryokans (traditional inns) often offer kaiseki meals, providing an authentic taste of Japanese culture.
Street Food Delights in Osaka
Osaka, known as the "Nation's Kitchen," is a street food lover's paradise. The bustling Dotonbori district is a treasure trove of culinary delights. Try takoyaki, a popular street food made from batter filled with octopus, topped with savory sauce, and sprinkled with bonito flakes.
Sample okonomiyaki, a savory pancake filled with cabbage, meats, and seafood, topped with a medley of sauces and garnishes. Don't forget to indulge in kushikatsu, deep-fried skewers of meat, seafood, and vegetables, served with tangy dipping sauce. And to taste the best, you must try Tours in Osaka.
Unveiling Unagi in Hamamatsu
If you're a fan of grilled eel, a visit to Hamamatsu is a must. This coastal city is renowned for its high-quality unagi (freshwater eel). Unagi is marinated in a special sauce and grilled to perfection, resulting in tender, flavorful meat. Indulge in this delicacy at a traditional unagi restaurant, and savor the combination of sweet and savory flavors that make it an absolute delight.
Conclusion
Embarking on a food tour in Japan is a culinary adventure that will ignite your taste buds and leave you with lifelong memories. From the vibrant streets of Osaka to the refined dining experiences in Kyoto, Japan offers a diverse range of culinary delights that cater to the Best Food In Shinjuku. And, whether you want to eat the best Steaks In Japan, or visit the amazing food market, a tour guide such as Ninja Food Tour is really a good option.
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this is the most shocking yet incredible thing i've ever read!!!!!! i can't believe i didn't see that twist coming!
Chapter 23
...
It was not perhaps the life Anne had envisioned, when she had dared to imagine a life married to Captain Wentworth. Oh, the trials of living at sea had not bothered her - indeed, she had relished the prospect of being truly useful on board a ship.
What she had not imagined was that her beloved should have turned into a were-octopus every full moon. That Wentworth should have kept such a secret from her until after their engagement was not surprising in the circumstances and did in fact explain several of the stranger things that had occurred beforehand, such as the constant thoughts of tentacles that had besieged her brain most peculiarly since their reunion earlier that year, not to mention the odd aroma of fish that always seemed to accompany the captain. Fortunately, after enduring Mary's more empathetic moments over the years had given Anne the patience to be accepting and patient over the things that she could not control and were-octopus transformation was but a small price to pay for the overall felicity of marriage to the man she adored. Besides, sometimes eight tentacles had their uses.
THE END
Send me the review and I'll write part of the fic
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ The restaurant ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Decided to write something for Cozy chat so,hello yall! Hope you enjoy reading this ♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱
The restaurant
As the rain falls in a slow steady dance, a light in the distance on the horizon catches anyone's eye that looks that way.
Maybe it was discovered by accident, maybe it was built as a part of the nearby elder's temple, who knows, but it is easy to reckognize what it is.
In the depths of the undergrowth, in the depths of the birch forest some call home, isolated from the cheerful village lays a restaurant.
It illuminates with warm orange light coming out of the large windows, making the stream next to it seem as pure gold.
Small groups of travellers, probably on their way to claim some bounty coin occasionally walk out. Soft footsteps echoing as they walk down the watery slope, so in sync that it is as if they are singing a marching tune.
But the real gold is inside the restaurant. Where there are dozens of sky children, glowing in the soft light, rushing in and out as murmurs of joy and excitement fill the air, and a sweet sweet aroma of sea food and vegetables fill the air.
It is so warm in there, so tranquil, so... So much like home. Not many people that never ventured past the Vault even know this place. Not many of them even accept it's existence, but that is okay.
The villagers of this realm do not need the pleasures of the outside world. They just need the soft dance of rain, the clanging of dishes, the first bell's song in the morning.
So they have it all here. When people come to this place it is because they seek comfort and this place will only appear to those who truly need it.
So when a young child, maybe six years old steps inside, so lost and confused, is it really weird that they panic?
The child never really knew of the world beyond, and after failing to catch food for their own home and being chased out all of this surprised them.
They took a few deep breaths and walked to the nearest free table. They weakly flapped their wings so they can reach the chair and pulled out a small pouch with a few coins.
They frowned as hunger overtook them and closed their eyes to not look at the feasting children of light around them, all so happy and carefree.
They were just so hungry, they were just so lost, and if they could get anything for what little coin they had they would gladly take it.
They let themselves get lost in the sounds around them, just comparing the harmony of these sounds to the chaos of screams and yells in their village.
But soon one of the guardians of light that protected everyone inside approached them. Softly nudging their little body so the child would pay them some attention.
The child looked up and tried to make out the guardian's face. They asked them for food but when they realised they had too little money to buy anything the guardian frowned.
The child looked around, and began to sob as they saw how well fed everyone else was. So the guardian hugged them. The child began to cry and lean into their duck like feathers. They just sobbed and began to wail as the guardian went away.
They were afraid. They were afraid of getting lost and thrown out again, but they stopped their worry as the guardian returned. The guardian was carrying a big octopus with lots and lots of toppings to them.
The child hesitated, the abundance of smell filling their nose and the way the octopus was glossing and looked so tasty so new to them. They never ate much, and when they did it was dry and stale food so this was oh so new to them.
The guardian handed them a plate and so they began to eat. They soon thanked the guardian for helping them and asked for another meal. The guardian gladly obliged and brought over some fruits.
The child that day ate like never before. They gladly enjoyed chit chat with the guardian and they gladly rested in the restaurant.
~~The end~~
i know the end was bad but i tried, i ran out of ideas, sorry TwT
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