#I even blush writing this

[nickybloodhead]

Kinktober day 16: Public

You didn't know how many hours you had been dancing in the club, the alcohol had flowed through your body and you decided to have some fun. Several guys had come up to dance with you but they didn't last more than two songs, that was until a visibly larger body pressed up behind you.

You looked over your shoulder and you swear your knees wobbled for a moment, blue eyes, blonde hair and wolfish grin was what you saw.

"Mind if I join you?" his voice was deep and a little husky, you were dumbfounded by the presence of a man like him. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance and smiled flirtatiously at him, giving him an affirmative nod.

He licked his lips looking you up and down, his hands rested on your hips and began to move to the rhythm of the music, your back was completely against to his chest, you could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck.

"I saw you dancing from across the bar" his chin rested on your shoulder as he spoke to you, his grip tightening around you. "You seem like the kind of girl who loves to be the center of attention, but I could be wrong" You giggle softly and turned in his arms to face him.

"Indeed, you are wrong...what was your name?" you spoke almost over his lips, your hands around his shoulders.

"James, and why, may I ask, am I wrong?" he seemed to be following your game as your bodies swayed, brushing against each other in the right places.

"I don't usually do this, I don't party very often" he hums considering your response and moves closer to you, his lips touching your earlobe.

"And yet you're here teasing everyone with that little dress" his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, he squeezed your buttocks and tugged a little on your panties. You moaned in surprise and looked at him in shock at his boldness.

"Oh, don't put that expression on your pretty face, you've let others rub against you, this is nothing" You blush a little embarrassed but you don't try to stop him, you dig your nails into his shoulders and look around to make sure that no one sees. His fingers run along the seam of your panties and push them aside, you feel a sudden rush of air against the velvety skin of your pussy, your body trembles in reaction.

He turns you around again, pressing his bulge against your ass. They continue moving slowly to the music, but he does it only to hide his intentions from the rest of the people.

He pulls your dress up your thighs, runs a finger along your slit, teasing your sensitive spot. You gasp and close your eyes, almost forgetting where you are.

"You're wet just thinking about being seen being touched like an easy slut, aren't you?" you wiggle your hips to seek a little friction against him, at this point you don't give a shit who sees you. You put your hand on his erection and squeeze a little, managing to make James grunt against your hair.

"Is there a problem? Because according to me, you're enjoying it James" the alcohol and adrenaline make you bold as you massage his hard cock, his fingers stopping their touches on your wetness. You frown but before you protest at the lack of attention, the sliding of his length in the middle of your folds has you moaning unintentionally, that attract a couple of glances that sneer or whistle at the show they're putting on.

You glance sideways at him and catch the smug smile adorning his lips, he moves back and forth, causing his cock to rub against your clit, you moan again at the stimulation as you try to cling to his forearms to keep yourself grounded.

You rest your head against his chest, bite your lip as you feel his fingers patting your swollen pussy, stare into his eyes in pure ecstasy. He grits his teeth and hisses, his cock hooking into your hole on every back and forth, you're leaking around him and he's not even fucking you properly.

A few murmurs bring you out of your bubble, the people around are still dancing but most watch you being stimulated, some guys rub their crotches over their clothes and some girls press their fingers over their sweet spots.

"See what you're doing? Making everyone around you horny, I'm sure when you squirt on my cock, you're going to make more than one of them wet their pants" Each word is punctuated with an especially hard caress on your clit, you squeeze your thighs creating a tighter channel for his throbbing cock to slide into.

The lustful gazes plus James' delicious touches are almost too much to bear, so you end up cumming with a high pitched scream that is masked by the loud music of the club, you go completely limp in his arms while he stains your folds with his semen.

You sigh, your mind a little blurred by the intensity of it all, you only feel how gentle hands fix your clothes and practically carry you to the bathroom of the place, when you manage to focus you see the blond who has just made a scene with you in the middle of a place full of people.

"All in order cutie, I didn't go too far?" his voice left out the smug tone, he seems genuinely concerned about your well being as he helps clean your inner thighs, you move in to kiss him which he gladly accepts.

"I'm perfect, although I think we should get out of here before they call the police for public indecency" you chuckle as does he who nods in agreement.

Uh, this was spicy

[blushedfemme]

toxic yuri where the femme is kinda sleazy and predatory and the butch is a wholesome goody two shoes. star athlete, straight As. bright-eyed and sincere. always bakes their famous chocolate chip cookies for the big game. the femme wears too much eye makeup and perfume and rolls her own. they’re hard and scary and crack rude jokes to make the butch blush. their skirts are too short and their neckline plunging.

the butch just wants to be good. the femme wants to ruin her. and the femme knows how to get what she wants, one way or another

[starflungwaddledee]

lost a bet with @eliastheownerof0axolotls, so here's today's starstruck shipaganza entry (and also a belated birthday present for elias) featuring his oc flower dee and the rather absurd "blush off":

[master-xochimilli]

Fuck he makes my brain so so mushy, heart pounding so loudly and gets me blushing way too easily!!! I love giving them my entire heart, knowing I'll be treated so so softly and caringly !!!!!

[revenantghost]

When Tristamp was coming out, there were two (2) scenes in particular that people got upset about for mainly shipping reasons, but, honestly? After having seen the whole thing and having thought about it for awhile, I think both are perfect for this iteration of Trigun and the narrative foils that Wolfwood and Meryl play against Vash. In no particular order:

Meryl Awakening Vash

I’ve already gone off about how closely Meryl and Rem are tied together, so I won’t retread old ground, but it’s so, so, so pivotal that Meryl believes in Vash unlike anyone has since Rem. And not in a motherly sort of way, either. (I think Rem would have a heart attack with the trouble these two get into lol.) That was important for Vash in its time, but now? Now Meryl is everything that Vash is fighting for in humanity. She sees the good in him, sees something worth fighting for, sees something worth loving. And the love in Trigun is just so integral to everything and everyone. It defies explanation sometimes, and that’s really beautiful to me.

As absolutely hilarious as it would have been for Wolfwood to have come in gun (singular in this iteration lmao) blazing to help Meryl break Vash out, he’s not at that point yet. It wouldn’t have made narrative sense, it would’ve broken the scene. It’s Meryl who has that hopeless, senseless faith in Vash, in the good that humanity could be. She still believes in justice, even after having gone through hell since meeting Vash. She’s seen ugly, undesirable parts of him that no one’s seen in years and she chooses to stay. She is the faith in humanity and the love for Vash that Rem had. She’s the reminder of what he’s still fighting for.

The Scar Reveal

As you can tell from above, I love Meryl in this story, and I honestly think we’ll probably see hers and Milly’s reaction to Vash’s scars at a later date. But for this first reveal to us, and especially for Tristamp in particular, it makes perfect sense for Wolfwood to see these scars and still, somehow, be horrified. This man has been tortured in ways unimaginable since he was a child. He’s had to turn off his humanity for years. He’s been broken and battered by monstrocities we can’t imagine. And yet he’s still horrified.

He probably wouldn’t have been at the start of the season. (See: Eriks barking like a dog very early in their relationship in the other versions, at VERY different emotional points.) So for Wolfwood to have been changed enough by Vash and for him to care enough about Vash to be horrified for him, to want better out of humanity for him? Despite the fact that he’s about to toss him to his ruthless brother because he can’t afford to care for Vash and the orphanage? It was really critical in setting up his own decision for episode twelve, coming back for Meryl and choosing Vash over Knives in his own way. Wolfwood’s been crumbling for awhile, but this is such a huge crack.

TL;DR: It’s about love and faith in humanity and justice, and so much more. I’m so happy that we got to see these characters shine in different ways, and in significant ways that we haven’t seen before. And don’t get me wrong! There are valid criticisms about many parts of Tristamp, but I ain’t having none for shipping wank lol

[devildom-moss]

I did some doodling and tried to draw Simeon’s face.

I wanted to try drawing erotic faces. I mean - He’s just a little tired from exercise or something (and other unconvincing lies)

[thesymphonytrue]

Hi hello!!!

“Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”

This line has SUCH Elle energy!! Whatever ship u want but it would be so cool if she said it

I immediately thought of El with this line, too!!! So yes....she says it!

Peter/Elizabeth

Pre-canon

"Oh honey, I'd never be jealous of you."

Elizabeth turned over in bed, surprised to find a cold, empty spot where Peter usually slept. Sighing, she propped herself up and checked the time: 3:00 am. Furrowing her dark brows, she pulled back the covers and tiptoed down the hallway to the top of the stairs. Peering into the living room, she saw Peter.

He was sitting on the couch, hair still messy from their evening romp hours ago, clad in a white t-shirt and boxers. One hand loosely held his phone to his ear, while the other rubbed his eyebrows wearily. But on his lips, on those wonderful lips that devoured Elizabeth almost daily, was a tiny smile, a sparkle of amusement and infatuation.

Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth thought.

This was the third night in a row that Neal Caffrey had called Peter and while Elizabeth didn’t so much mind Peter being all-consumed by his job, post-midnight phone calls were…

Intriguing.

In Elizabeth’s mind, Neal was a brilliant mind who had fallen into the wrong crowd (criminals) and latched onto Peter’s stability, whilst also out-smarting him on almost every turn.

And Peter fucking loved it.

When Peter Burke was challenged, Peter Burke thrived. Elizabeth smiled to herself; she knew this on an emotional, intellectual, and sexual level about her partner. Peter was meticulous about learning everything about his pursuit, making him an excellent FBI Agent, but even better in bed.

She smiled coily to herself and decided tonight would be the night she intervened. She couldn’t have a criminal stealing her husband away, could she? Well aware that she was still in lingerie from earlier (a lovely lacy black thing that left absolutely nothing up to the imagination), Elizabeth fluffed her hair, squared her shoulders, and pranced down the stairs like a runway model.

Peter was mid-chuckle when he spotted her, cheeks flushing and eyes widening at the sight of her soft curves. She walked over to him like a lioness stalking her prey and plucked the phone from his hands.

“Hello, Neal Caffrey,” she said cooly into the phone.

She could practically feel him grinning on the other end.

“Is this the famous Mrs. Burke? I was convinced Peter was lying about having a wife. How do you put up with him, he’s insufferably stubborn,” Neal rattled off as if he and Elizabeth were the best of friends.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel a smile tickle her lips as she stole a glance at Peter, whose mouth was propped open in despair and eyes wild with panic.

“Well, you’re right about that,” she said, proceeding to straddle Peter and play with his hair while keeping Neal on the line.

“So why are you up at this hour?” Neal chirped, “Are you jealous?”

Elizabeth chuckled, low and sultry, leaning in and kissing Peter’s neck, to which Peter suppressed a groan and motioned for her to hang up the phone immediately.

“Oh honey, I could never be jealous of you,” she said, speaking to Neal, but looking directly into Peter’s honey-brown eyes, whose pupils were now fully dilated.

“Have Peter shown you my picture?” Neal asked, audibly smirking.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, realizing she didn’t know anything about this man other than his name and criminal habits.

“No, he hasn’t,” her gaze flicked to Peter, who was still clueless as to the nature of their conversation. She caressed Peter’s cheek, “But looks don’t matter to Peter,” her eyes twinkled as she widened her legs on Peter and pressed herself closer to him, “Peter loves smart—”

“Well isn’t he lucky that he’s got both in you, Elizabeth,” Neal cut her off, as if he knew exactly what she was trying to do.

“Hang up the phone!” Peter mouthed desperately.

Elizabeth’s eyebrow arched in pleasure at hearing this as she surveyed Peter, practically panting after her.

“Thank you for the compliment, Neal,” Elizabeth purred simultaneously into Peter’s ear and the phone, “Now say goodnight to Peter and let him come back to bed with his wife.”

Neal let out a bright laugh at this, one that even Peter could hear through the phone. Peter turned beet red and promptly snatched the phone back from Elizabeth and gripped her waist, gently pushing her off of him and setting her down next to him as he stood.

“Peter! I didn’t know that you had such an active—-“

“Shut it, Caffrey! Goodnight!” Peter barked, clicking the phone off, Neal’s laughter still echoing in Elizabeth and Peter’s mind.

Elizabeth stood and snaked a hand around Peter’s chest from behind, pressing her breasts into his back. She felt him tighten in response and she rested a hand over his fast beating heart.

She glanced down at the coffee table, Neal Caffrey’s file open. A photograph was pinned to the edge of the file.

Slightly blurry due to Neal being in motion, it was a picture of a dark haired man with brilliant blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and wild smile. He was handsome enough to make any woman–or man–swoon.

“Now that you’re all hot and bothered,” she whispered in Peter’s ear, “should we go to bed or take the couch? Or has Neal put a damper on things?”

Peter turned to face her, his hands tracing the curves of her waist, cupping her supple—and practically bare—ass and kissed her passionately on the lips.

“Couch will do,” he said gruffly, lowering her to the sofa.

Elizabeth sighed and smiled as wrapped her legs around him and pulled him on top of her, satisfied with how Peter's 3 am call had ended. She wondered how long this Neal Caffrey would invade their lives. No, Elizabeth was not jealous, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take advantage of the perks this handsome criminal’s pursuit of Peter provided.

[airanke]

The urge to draw Dante and Touya making out but the urge to not draw it because I feel so bad for Touya 🤣🤣🤣

(Wow I'm so sorry I rambled aggressively in my tags WTF)

[willowser]

arranged marriage + the missus and the ex w izuku😏😏😏😏(def not calling back to that one snippet you wrote about this😜😜😜😜😜)

OOOOOOH THIS ONE SOUNDS ROUGH OKAY. whenever i think arranged marriage, i think fantasy au okay ? OKAY ? I'M SORRY BUT WE'RE DOING IT !!!

izuku has been king yagi's ward for as long as you can remember. a small, freckle-faced boy that sat down the table from you, that ate the vegetables you didn't want, that played tag with you in the royal gardens and put flowers in your hair.

you taught him how to dance with his two left feet, and you watched him train his body beyond its limits. where he once had to look up at you, just a little, it seemed as if he hit a growth spurt overnight, while you were both in your teens, and then his shoulders broadened and his thighs thickened. izuku became a wall of muscle, his round face thinning a bit throughout the years — though his eyes never dimmed, and his smile never lost its gentle shine.

he is the first boy you love. the first boy that kisses you behind the stables, even though you both know he shouldn't. he is the first boy to untie the ribbons of your dress, wide hands scarred and shaking, the first boy you allow in your bed despite the risks.

you're young and you believe in happy-endings, true love, and you think if you tell the king, your father, of your heart's desires, that he will listen. that he will see the truth in the way izuku looks at you, that boyish redness to his face when you smile at him.

but then the barbarians come.

where izuku is solid and strong, bakugou katsuki is tall and cut from stone. the same weight does not lie in his fists, but he is faster, smarter in the heat of battle, born and bred for it.

aizawa, your father’s advisor, tells you that men like him learn to hold knives before they learn to walk. how to draw blood before they speak their first words. izuku has trained his entire life, but — you think of his hand in your own, soft and gentle.

you marry bakugou katsuki for the safety of your country, in the middle of the night, surrounded by the blazing fires of his encampment. you drink wine made from blood-red grapes and eat meat from an animal you never have before. he doesn't kiss you because they don't do that; instead he cuts his finger and paints a shape on your forehead and cheeks with his own blood.

izuku isn't there.

the marriage is consummated because there's no way around it. bakugou isn't shy about his body, or yours, and he touches you like he's certain. he doesn't hold you like izuku does, and instead you are put to your knees with your cheek against the furs that he sleeps on. it's nothing so brutal as you might have expected, but — it's not izuku either.

(truthfully, you're not sure how you feel about it — him — though you could never admit such a thing out loud, have a hard enough time admitting it to yourself. your cheeks heat at the thought of izuku's fingers brushing over them, his mouth gently pressed against your own, hiding his little gasps in the soft skin of your throat.

— but there is something satisfying, in a dark, primal way, about the warm hand bakugou keeps on your waist, how he tangles his fingers in the hair at your nape to make you look up at him, the mark he bites into your shoulder.

making him grin, with all his sharp teeth and scrunched nose, feels like an accomplishment. leaves you with a warm, special glow. it feels earned and not simply given, and as someone that has been waited on hand foot all their life — that affects you in ways you could have never expected.)

izuku visits as often as he can; as often as your father will allow, for as long as your husband will allow. you typically spend time outside the encampment, just beyond the hill under the cottonwood trees, talking close and laughing low. sometimes, as the sun sets, you'll find your hand in his.

"i hope i'm able to return for it," you tell him, in response to his excitement over being knighted, finally. "masaru says we're to return to their homeland before winter meets the seas."

izuku doesn't say anything, only smiles sadly, forced, as if you couldn't read the pain on his face from miles away. he nods once before looking out over the valley where the encampment has been set up, thinking wistfully. the wind ruffles through his gentle curls and he smells like home, like warm bread and your clean sheets. the sort of things you thought you couldn't live without.

and yet—

"oi," bakugou appears then, face pinched and drawn, scowl deepening as you pull your hand from izuku's. he scoffs once to himself and then turns, quietly commanding you, "come."

you know better than to allow the already thick tension between them grow; one word from izuku can set your husband off, and so you try to smile at him reassuringly, squeezing his hand once more as you bid him goodnight. he dares to fiddle with your hair, wide eyes memorizing your face before letting you go.

it's a surprise that you find bakugou waiting at the edge of the hill as he, too, looks out over his encampment. he always scowls at your dress because it slows you down, usually keeps you a few feet behind him, but he's still, quiet.

when you approach him, he says nothing. doesn't look at you either, simply frowns in the light of the moon, the softness it adds to his face. you watch him silently, waiting for him to continue on back to your shared tent, but — he looks down at his side, before offering his palm, wide and flat.

you take it after a moment, after realizing what it is he's asking, and you can't help but to smile at him softly, as he looks at you. memorizing your face. hand soft and gentle in your own.

✨️ trope game 🩷

[coffeemira]

need an age regression/de-aging fic where a post-KH4 riku has to take care of a younger sora, and bb sora is just completely awestruck over how strong and kind and pretty (and tall!!) his best friend riku got… and is so transparently smitten that riku, who is actually dating present-day sora, is just like: wow we really were oblivious how did either of us miss sora’s glaring crush on me??

[super-rangers]

okay same anon from this morning I’m back from rereading chapter 1!!

I love that Regina is already repressing her attraction to Janis before she even gets hit by a bus lmao girlie never had a chance. I swear if she wouldn’t have had a redemption arc they still would’ve ended up hate fucking at a graduation party or something

She's been repressing that attraction since 6th grade lmao It'd be unrealistic if I didn't include any thirst from the very beginning

no but you're a genius,,they definitely would have hate fucked and it would've caused a cataclysmic spiral in both of them

[charmac]

do you have any thoughts on transfem dennis

Not really well elaborate ones but I like the idea and would love to see some headcanons/ideas/fanfics on the subject.

I kinda follow the idea that it's something that's always been a part of Dennis, and used to be more prominent. Especially when he was a kid and grew up alongside Dee, played dress-up with her, learned makeup with her, envied her beauty pageants and the ability to just, be feminine. Though his mother hated Dee and with late 80s/90s culture, it was something that was shut out of his life and repressed. Now we watch as it’s slowly seeped back through a little bit of dress up and thongs and some makeup, to always wearing makeup, applying mascara right in the car and revealing he picks up men with his mommy kink.

I think Dennis is still unlabelled when it comes to gender and sexuality, because there’s so much there and that’s okay, I like that a lot. So it’s a cool concept to explore, that I desperately want to see more of.

[rock-teh-elf]

Little snippet from an attempt at fanfiction !!

"Are you okay, my dear ?" The pet names always brought a flush to her cheeks.

The Herald's attention was back to the reports she was practically swimming in, just now a playful grin made it's home on her lips. Josephine turned in her chair, her white nightgown spilling to the floor. She rested her head on the chair back and just admired the woman across the room. She was also wearing a white nightgown, that disappeared under the red bed covers. The puffy sleeves of the nightgown were tied up above her elbows, exposing the soft, silky skin of her arms and hands. There were a few scars on them, from the battles the Herald had been in. A long scar stretched from her love's left palm all the way to her shoulder, the place that Andraste herself touched her. Her beautiful hair were braided in delicate locks, that were neatly wrapped under a blue silk scarf that Josephine had gifted her. The sight made Josephine giddy with love.

"I'm perfect" she remembered to reply, watching as her love's grin bloomed into a smile that easily reached her ears.

Josephine got up, the cool stone under her feet forced her to quickly dash to their bed. With a yelp she quickly, but carefully, sat down on a spot that wasn't occupied by papers, lifting her feet from the icy floor. The two women shared a laugh as Josephine gently placed her hands on her lovers.

"It is getting late" the Herald sighed with a glance to the window. It was certainly past midnight, maybe it was closer to dawn than she had originally thought.

"Let me get done with these reports, my dove. Then I'll go to sleep" her protest was firmly shut down by Josephine removing the paper in her hands.

"The reports will be here in the morning" her tone playful but also firm leaving no room for further protest.

Still, the Herald played around with the idea of fighting back, as she watched Josephine gather the reports that littered their bed. Her honey skin glistened against the moon light, the Herald couldn't help but lean closer to her lover to get a better look. The scent of lavender and vanilla overwhelmed her senses, she desperately tried to catch the other woman's eye but Josephine acted as if she didn't notice. A coy smile reached her lips as she neatly organized the papers in her hands by date.

[gxlden-angels]

I finally found the little ✨Dream Girl✨ passage in the Faithgirlz! Bible that made me realize I might just be gay

[softquietsteadylove]

Second round for the Thenamesh Cook and Critic AU.

This time Gil nails the next meal. Thena reacts like the food critic from ratatouille!

Thena sighs as another plate is taken away from in front of her. She looks at her notepad. She has tried twelve dishes thus far, and every single one of them was lacklustre. Her notes are mostly things like spoke at the floor during presentation, or not enough onion in ONION galette.

She only agreed to critique this farce because she wants the extra credit. That was the reason she gave her supervising teacher, that is. On a more personal level, she saw the list of students entering and volunteered to critique and write the review for the competition.

It's extracurricular, essentially a competition for a review in a very prestigious publication. It's still a review, so she has to be impartial, if critical, but the winner can get their name out into the real world of fine dining.

She doesn't think anyone on this list besides Gilgamesh stands a chance. But again, she has to be impartial, so she can't risk voicing that opinion. She has to try his dish for herself.

Thanks to her position as a third year critique student, she's graded several classes this year, three of which Gilgamesh attended. His dishes are always warm and comforting, but he doesn't lack refinement, and he's no slouch when it comes to plating. She rather thinks he has more promise than anyone else in the school.

"Just one more," Ajak smiles over her shoulder. Thena just nods, long bored of having to endure all the other entries when Gilgamesh's is the only one she actually wanted to try.

She could have just asked. He has offered several times now to make her something, or present the adjustments to a recipe that she suggested. But she can't take him up on that offer...for some reason. She'll think about it, and then lose her nerve.

The door to the examination room opens and in walks Gilgamesh, tall and broad shouldered and confident. He has a huge grin on his face, which is a stark contrast to the contestants who walked in with tears in their eyes. He shifts his dish on his palm so he can wave at her.

Thena almost waves back, but it turns to a flinch as his tray starts to tilt. "Gil-!"

"Whoa!" he startles, catching the silver cloche and adjusting the platter loudly. "Sorry, that was close!"

Ajak presses her palm over her eyes.

Thena sinks back into her chair (she didn't even realise she had risen in reflex to the scare). She clears her throat, tugging at her skirt. "What are you presenting, Gilgamesh?"

"Well, the name of the dish officially is Liquid Gold," he grins as he sets the platter down on her white tablecloth. He pulls the cloche away, "but I did think about calling it Breakfast of Champions."

The room is silent in reaction to the dish. Sitting in front of her for judging in a fine dining setting is...an egg--a singular egg in an egg holder in the middle of the plate.

Thena leans forward examining it closer. Her brows knit and she looks up at him. He's still beaming, though, and it's a little too infectious to ignore. She feels the corners of her lips tug, "what have you done?"

Gilgamesh leans in too, eager to watch her cut into the dish. "I took a chance--I hope you like onigiri."

Thena pokes at the outside of the 'egg'. The rice is perfect and fluffy, but shaped into an egg, which is renowned for being a deceptively difficult shape to construct. She pulls it away and indeed, inside, is liquid gold. She inhales.

Gilgamesh hangs on her every reaction, practically wagging his tail in his eagerness.

Ajak steps towards them, "Gilgamesh, do you want to...?"

He shakes his head though, "after she's had her bite."

Her bite--her one bite, for which she has become infamous. Because she has to taste so much in a day she has come to dislike so many foods. Because she can never just sit down and enjoy a meal. Because she's the most frightening critique student to come out of this school.

Thena pulls her bite to her lips and gasps. Her eyes go wide and she feels as if she's sinking into a warm chicken broth. The dish oozes, just like a soft boiled egg, but the grains of rice fall to the plate below and instead of egg yolk, there is a silken chicken broth dripping out, thickened like a creamy soup.

It makes her feel like a little girl digging into a soft boiled egg in her grandfather's garden. It tastes like a comforting chicken dumpling and a risotto and a breakfast dish all at once. She chews the rice and feels like when she would eat plov (pilaf) after a cold day outside.

She takes another bite, and then another. The dish is small anyway, and she wishes it weren't. She even moves her fork in the bottom of the egg holder to get every last grain of rice within. She licks her lips and sighs, leaning on the table. "It's perfect."

Ajak's jaw is hanging open.

But Gil is looking at her with pure joy on his face, "you think so?"

She nods, feeling as if she's tipsy (she doesn't drink). She taps her finger against the gold rim of the plate. "Tell me about the dish."

"So, I thought, well, what's the most important meal of the day?" he begins rhetorically, and maybe it's because she's in such a good mood that she finds it so charming. Or maybe it's just Gilgamesh. But he gesticulates as he speaks, and she wonders if anyone will mind if she licks the inside of the egg cup. "And then I think, what's my favourite thing to have for breakfast?"

She raises her brows at him, and this is no longer her interviewing him for the competition. It might never have been that. "You have onigiri for breakfast?"

"I do a lot of cooking in the day, I really value a quick meal I don't have to do anything for myself," he shrugs shamelessly. She thinks he's funny. "Anyway, I was thinking of what fillings of onigiri there are, and then I thought about dumplings and their fillings, and then I thought about how chicken dumplings are totally underrated. Then-"

"Gilgamesh," Ajak interrupts him, and Thena has never felt annoyed with Ajak before now. "More concisely, please."

"Right, sorry," he offers a more sheepish smile and holds the silver cloche of the platter against his chest. "Liquid Gold is inspired by eastern and western traditions of a self contained meal. It's all the warmth of a perfect egg with the complexity of a xiaolongbao. The 'egg' is composed of rice I seasoned with just a little sesame oil and rice vinegar, and the 'yolk' is actually a homemade chicken stock concentrated down with a little traditional seasoning, as well as some curry and all-spice, to be gentle on the stomach, then made into a gelatin so it can melt out of the egg when you cut into it."

Thena wishes she could stand up and clap for him.

"I know it's a simple concept, and maybe I'm taking a bit of a risk," he admits, some shyness coming over him. "But I thought...what would someone want to eat? What's something that would be comforting, but also nice to eat, whether it's first thing in the morning or...after a bunch of other dishes."

Thena blinks. He took into account that he was last on the roster for judging. Had he really taken into consideration how she would feel after tasting all the other entries?

"I just wanna make food that makes people happy," he concludes softly, shrugging his shoulders as if he hasn't created a truly unique and inspired dish.

She could cry with joy, she liked it so much.

"Thank you for having me," he concludes, as did the rest of the contestants. He bows to her and Ajak, then to the other supervising teachers present.

Thena wishes she could ask him to make this for her again, but just sits there as he walks out. When he closes the door, she dabs at her eyes. She has truly been moved to tears by his cooking, and she didn't even get to tell him.

She publishes her review the next day in the school newsletter.

The very idea that culinary practice requires its own form of criticism is, in itself, arrogant. Who are we to declare that the simple act of eating and enjoying food is subject to validation given by a privileged few? The purpose of food is to be eaten, and I believe that any cook worthy of being called Chef would say that they want to make food which people will enjoy.

Liquid Gold is, in every sense, food to be enjoyed. It is the perfect dish, small but rich, comforting but exciting, engaging but familiar. The promise of a liquid centre of chicken bouillon is enough to make Midas a jealous man, encased in rice capable of transporting anyone back to the kitchen of their most beloved memories.

Brought to life by a chef named Gilgamesh, I am no match for it. It does not require a perfect palette to enjoy this dish. Nor does anyone need to have refined tastes to love eating it. This charming little 'egg' exists only to evoke complete infatuation with its simple charms.

Once upon a time, many of us were told that love is a secret ingredient to any meal. With Chef Gilgamesh, this may well prove true. Love is palatable in this dish, and within all dishes of his making. And I expect the world over to fall in love with this dish as I have, created by the best chef ever to be taught within the halls of the Celestial Institute of Culinary Studies.

[resetmypatientviolence]

If you’re writing smut or a spicy scene, I cannot recommend listening to “Sugar” by Sleep Token enough, esp if the characters are intense/scene is charged.

Do you wanna see how far it goes?

Do you wanna test me now, my love?

You must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily

100000/10