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goqmir · 3 months

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if you want to be a chef in this day and age you have to want to fuck the food. it used to be that you could get away with just desiring food-related sex-- in western saloons in the late 1800s, for instance, there were often gouges in the floorboards leading from the cook's favorite lovemaking bedroom in the inn to the nightly spot laid out for the salad bar trolley. Now, though, you have to have sexual urges about the food itself. If you don't, you will be easily outclassed by those overworked bakers who stop for condoms on the way home after they score some extra jelly-filled pastries from work, or the Michelin star chefs who have hours of mac and cheese stirring ASMR saved in a YouTube playlist. They simply want the food more than you do. Every chef with a decent career in the fine dining world has that not-so-hidden secret. If you can afford it, expensive dishes usually have wonderful texture-- just ask Gordon Ramsey and his fridge full of crab puffs-- but if you can't, I would recommend first starting out with something affordable you can easily keep on hand, with little preparation time and a decent texture. Of course, not all beginning chefs follow this advice-- a lot of dedicated chefs attempt to start fucking the food after learning about this subculture, leading to an alarming number of juice fetishists in the sous chef workforce. Unfortunately, many learn too late that you need substance in your food-- some decent texture to rub against-- or you won't get the same experience with food you need in the industry. By that time, of course, the juice kink has set in-- if you see a sous chef pouring apple cider into a pot of mac and cheese, you don't have to ask what it's adding to the flavor profile. A lot of popular picks are easy to reheat in the microwave, not quick to perish, and give a decent enough texture to be satisfying. A common pick is simply bread; filled donuts offer a pleasant pocket and satisfying orgasms; muffins are thick enough where working a hole from its bottom to its top is not only possible, but expected; almost all of the kitchen staff at Red Lobster leaves for the night with a few extra-soft biscuits in their bags. Others have more interesting taste: melty cheeses, the pointiest carrots and pineapples, the claws of lobsters, the most decadent helpings of whipped-cream topped parfaits. This all works fine for a number of years, until you notice your skill as a chef starting to plateau. Many chefs simply stay in this zone, as well enough preparers living happy lives at good jobs. But the best chefs, the headliners, those who prepare the best meals the world has to offer... they take it to the next level. They spend a good, long time preparing the dish they are covering in their cum up to four nights a week. Hours of baking, broiling, dirtied pots and pans. The food preparation is like foreplay, one of the most creative parts of sex and cooking alike. A good chef gets hotter with the pasta in the pot, sizzles along with the eggs in the pan, finds themselves on edge with each slice of the potato into the crock. Until finally, hours into the night, cock hard like a lamppost, after dicking down that beautifully prepared pasta frittata since the sun was still up, they orgasm all across its gorgeous pasta fillings and creamy cheesey insides and finally Understand food. After learning all of this, you may be tempted to go down to your neighborhood spot and ask the chef what they do to deepen the connection between themselves and their meals. Of course, if the neighborhood spot happens to be a bar, you'll probably actually have a line cook-- where instead, you should probably ask what they like most about putting their cigarettes out on twinks.

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octuscle · 8 months

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Virgo Season: Maverick

Strange things are happening in the sign of Virgo at the Astra Hotel. A bigger and bigger society is forming to celebrate the birthday of the great @fredwkong. I think Maverick can expand the guest list well.

Slowly Pastor Blanco realized that things were slipping away from him. Slowly, he realized that in this hotel, the Corpse himself was at work, sending his sinful hordes after him. He was slowly running out of brothers in arms and weapons as well. It was time to use one of his secret weapons. Maverick. Maverick had once been a lost soul, but he had led him back to the path of virtue. Maverick was a paragon of virtue and discipline. And Maverick was a jerk-off idol for every depraved person scurrying around this planet. Maverick's day ran with the precision of Swiss clockwork. Working out, eating healthy, working in the community, praying. Study of the Bible. Maverick's YouTube channel "Praise the Lord with all your body and mind" was so successful that Maverick was able to make a good living from it and also support Pastor Blanco's work. And that's exactly why Pastor Blanco brought Maverick on stage the next night.

The big speech wasn't necessarily his thing. But Maverick thanked God and Pastor Blanco for the second chance he had been given. And he said what a joy it was for him to support Pastor Blanco's work. And when he couldn't think of anything else to do, he did what he did best: Show off his upper body and flex his muscles. After the sermon, Pastor Blanco thanked Maverick. The effect was exactly as desired. Even some of the fags attended the sermon. Maverick catches all the sheeple. But Maverick can change. At the Hotel Astra, all kinds of people change....

There is no wine miracle. But a liquor miracle. Maverick signs autographs to his fans, blesses convention attendees, and takes a big swig from his water bottle. Pure booze. Maverick looks puzzled. And takes a second sip. And he grabs three donuts from the buffet. A big burp follows. Pastor Blanco looks horrified. The demons are getting closer. He pushes Maverick toward the exit. Still in the doorway, a loud fart booms. For the first time in years, Maverick curses. At least in his mind. And he's so thirsty. He heads for his room on the third floor. Sounds like there's a party going on next door. But parties aren't godly. Muscle training and praying. That's godly. Maverick needs a big drink of water. Urgent. He pours himself a glass from the bathroom faucet. And drinks it greedily. And again: pure liquor.

Maverick turns on the radio. The Bible station. Death metal blares from the radio. No matter which knob he turns, the music doesn't get any quieter. And no other station comes on. Fuck, he loves the music. And he needs another glass of water.

His proper haircut becomes more sloppy. Curls form on his head. His slick muscles are starting to get hairy. A damp, smelly fur grows in his shaved armpits. Fuck, now a cigarette, plus watching porn and jerking off. Pastor Blanco calls and asks if everything is okay. Maverick tells him to fuck off if he doesn't want to blow him now. Damn, I need another glass of water, he thinks to himself.

It's almost noon when Mav wakes up. Next to him the horny guy from the next room. Curled up at the foot of the bed is his puppy Ezzy. That was a wild night. Mav takes another sip of water and lights a cigarette. Damn, why was he here again. Just to fuck and party? Fuck, what else for? Certainly not to pray.

And now he needs fresh air. His friends are into a different fetish than him. Mav is more into the simple and honest things. The smell of leather belongs together with loud music, beer, liquor and cigarettes. And good honest sex.

I found the pictures for this birthday card @homme-parfait, @love-the-fuzzy-parts3 and @nachtgarm666

#male tf #muscle tf #male transformation #muscle transformation #virgo season

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aka-tsubaki · 1 year

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POV Date w/ Shizuo: - Too shy to maintain eye contact - Starts convo off w/ the weather - Panics during awkward silence - Gives you the cherry off his parfait (offers to split the rest too) - Desperate for a cigarette

POV Date w/ Izaya: - Unnerving amount of eye contact - Wants to know everything about you (for blackmail) - Dodges questions about himself - Frequently goes on philosophical tangents - Never a silent moment (never shuts up)

#shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #drrr #durarara #shizaya #who's the better date?#awkward hot blond vs blackmailed by hot goth #tough choice tbh

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firstdivisiongirl · 8 months

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HELLOOO I JUST FOUND YOUR FICS DUDE IM IN LOOOVE WITH YOUR WRITING!!!! i recently got into op and your fics have been a really nice start for op fan content :]]

id like to make a request! short fic or scenarios is fine, whichever you prefer! im preparing for college, and im gonna be living on campus but one of the things im really scared of is losing my culture cause its difficult to go out of my way and cook or search for food that reminds me of my mexican background when at that point it's basically just trying to survive on anything yk??

if it wouldnt be much trouble, could I ask for a gn!reader x sanji, something along the lines of reader feeling homesick and sanji making them a comfort meal from their culture? (it doesn't have to be mexican you can really do whatever!!)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT I DONT REALLY REQ A LOT AND IM IN A MOOD TAKE YOUR TIME IF YOU DO DECIDE TO DO IT!!!!! HAVE A NCIE DAY/NIGHT !!!

Hi! Thank you for the compliments. I really loved this. I feel the same way as you. While I am not Mexican, I do try to stay close to my German and Irish roots, even though no one else in my family does. I did a good amount of research on food that are authentic l Mexican cuisine. I got a lot of new recipes to try! I remember college, the only thing was I lived at home and drove. I really hope you enjoy this fic and I also wish you luck at college.

How to Cure Homesickness

Everyone misses home sometimes. You were no exception to that rule. You recently joined the Strawhats as their cultural expert. They need that because Luffy and Zoro had a tendency to offend people. Sanji noticed you weren’t your happy self. You weren’t playing with Chopper, Luffy and Usopp. You weren’t sunbathing with Robin and Nami. You just sat there at the railing of the Sunny, watching the sea as the waves crashed into the sides. Sanji understood how you felt. He got homesick all the time. He would miss Zeff and the rest of the guys at the Baratie. When he missed them, he would make his favorite foods from the Baratie. The seafood risotto, the fruit parfait and his famous soup. Then it hit him like Nami did to Luffy when he was being dumb, make the foods that remind you of home. He walked up to Robin, who was reading on deck, “Robin darling, do you have any cookbooks in your library that I can borrow,” he asked, smiling like a fool.

A few hours later, Sanji called everyone in for dinner. He had been in the kitchen all day, reading and cooking. When you walked into the kitchen a familiar scent hit your nose. It wasn’t the usual scent of tangerines, saltwater, or even meat. It was different. It smelt like…home? You looked at the table and saw all of your favorites: carne asada, mole, huachinango a la veracruzana, arroz con leche, you name it. You looked at Sanji. He was smiling at you, “I thought you could use some cheering up dear. I know you miss home, so I thought I’d bring home to the Sunny,” he said as he took another drag of his cigarette. Everyone was so amazed by the food to notice you and Sanji. “Thank you Sanji,” you told him, giving him a quick peck on his cheek. He started to blush, before he grabbed his nose, so he didn’t bleed all over you. “Anything for you dear,” he said, “HEY LUFFY DON’T EAT ALL OF IT! THIS IS FOR Y/N NOT YOU!!!” The good news was that he made extra and saved it in the locked fridge for you. Looks like besides knowing you and your habits well, he knew his captain’s habits all too well as well.

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

#one piece #trafalgar d vivi #request #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader

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celandeline · 3 months

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Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (14)

I don’t know what kind of sex Venetia and Oliver had last night (a lie, I know exactly what kind of sex Venetia and Oliver had last night), but whatever he did has her scarfing down yogurt parfait like it’s nothing. Which, for anyone else, would be completely normal, but for Venetia, is more than a little strange. In the year, roughly, that I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her do more than pick at her plate - and even then, she’ll still disappear to the bathroom for fifteen minutes. No matter what I say, or do, or what I would cook for us in the dorms, it’s entrenched in her. I’m just happy she eats when she’s drunk.

Next to me, Farleigh flips his newspaper, a cigarette perched in his other hand, and a coffee still steaming next to his empty plate. I know he’s not looking at it though, because he keeps looking at me, a very faint smile on his lips and a knowing look in his eyes every time Oliver and Venetia so much as look at each other. He’s particularly smug this morning - I know he’ll use this against Oliver somehow. I finish off my scrambled eggs, and begin to butter my toast.

Slowly, Oliver slides his croissant across the table, to Venetia. Venetia slowly picks it up, and in one bite, eats almost half of the croissant, never dropping his stare. It’s almost worse than watching Oliver go down on her last night - at least then it was dark, at least then they weren’t sitting at the table with us, with her parents. I busy myself with finishing off my glass of orange juice.

I know that she’ll no doubt tell me all about her late night endeavors later. I still haven’t made up my mind about whether or not to tell her about mine.

Felix’s brow is furrowed as he joins the table, sulkily dropping into his seat and immediately slipping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. As always, Oliver immediately drops Venetia’s attention in favor of turning towards Felix. “Morning.” He says. “Sleep well?”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Nah, not really mate.” He grumbles.

At the head of the table, James swallows a bite of his breakfast, and pats his napkin around his lips. “We're thirty for dinner tomorrow night. Stopford Sackville has cried off.”

A round of groans go around the table - Felix, Farleigh and Venetia all sighing almost simultaneously.

Only Elspeth doesn’t join in, but her tone still betrays her feelings. “Oh dear, that's a shame.” She’s not convincing at all.

“Who’s coming to dinner again?” I ask. I’m sure, at some point, someone talked about it before, but I can’t remember for the life of me. I’m a little embarrassed to ask, but not enough to keep me quiet. This isn’t my house - I’m allowed to forget about social arrangements.

“The Henrys.” Venetia says.

Farleigh laughs and gripes at the same time. “No, please!”

“Who are the Henrys?” Oliver asks, glancing at Felix.

Felix doesn’t answer - Venetia does. “Dad's friends. They're all called Henry.”

“Not all of them! Just most…” James protests.

Elspeth still sounds unconvinced about dinner, even as she’s trying to convince the rest of the table, “It’ll be fun!”

Venetia drops what remains of her croissant back onto her plate. “It'll be being molested by Henry.” She shoots a look at James. “You know which one!”

Elspeth rolls her eyes. “I'll put you next to Oliver then! He can molest you instead.”

I watch as Felix - already sulking - sinks lower into his seat, his brow tightening even further. He looks furious. I glance at Farleigh, to find him smirking around his cigarette. I expected the turnaround time between us accidentally witnessing Venetia’s moonlight tryst and him tattling on Oliver to Felix to be longer, but I guess I underestimated Farleighs dislike of Oliver.

Elspeth reaches a hand across the table in Oliver’s direction. “Oh Oliver, I was going to say, we should do something fun for your birthday. A proper party! No Henrys! Something actually fun.” Oliver’s face changes, and his eyes slip from Venetia to Elspeth. “What do you think, darling?”

James smiles. “If Oliver would like it then I think it's a splendid idea.”

Farleigh scoffs, his eyes set on the newspaper in his lap. “I think Oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window.” His eyes flick over to me, and he smiles.

Oliver’s voice cracks when he speaks. “What kind of party?”

“I don’t know, whatever you want.” Elspeth says, flippant. “What do you think? About a hundred people?”

“A hundred?” Oliver looks to Felix for help, to no avail.

“Or two. It invariably ends up being two, doesn’t it, with this sort of thing…” She pats the top of his hand, and smiles. “Invite whoever you want. All your friends.”

Farleigh looks up from his newspaper to take a drag of his cigarette. “What friends?”

Oliver glances at Felix again. Felix is steadfast in pretending that Oliver isn’t sitting next to him, his eyes fixed on the wall behind Farleigh’s head.

James’s face lights up. “Oh! Oh! How about fancy dress?”

Venetia rises from the table abruptly, and stalks away, headed towards the bathroom. My heart sinks. I guess Oliver Quick isn’t good enough for her either. That makes two of us.

“I can wear my suit of armor, Elspeth!” James excitedly sets his napkin back down on the table.

“Good idea darling.” Elspeth says.

Finished with my breakfast, I lean over to Farleigh. “Can I have-?” I don’t even get the question fully out of my mouth before he’s digging in his pocket, pulling out his box of cigarettes and offering it to me. I pluck one from the box, and he leans forward, pressing the end of his to the end of mine until it lights. “Thanks.”

“We could have a theme!” Elspeth continues. “What about Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

James smiles. “Lovely.”

“Bring on the slutty fairies.” Farleigh says, eyes flicking to me, grinning.

I return his smile, and puff on my cigarette.

< previous part | next part >

#farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #saltburn x reader

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redriotinggg · 2 months

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Mikans at Midnight

inspired by this post by @pinkcrittertomb <3

also posted on my ao3

Sanji exhales loudly as he collapses against the kitchen counter. He’s finally done deep cleaning the kitchen. For the millionth time since he began his task, he curses out Luffy, who somehow managed to get into the last dredges of syrup that Usopp brought back from his village and made a mess of both himself and the kitchen. Sanji and Usopp had swiftly doled out a proper punishment for the greedy captain that would likely do nothing to prevent such an event from happening again.

After hours of cleaning and meal prep, Sanji is positively exhausted and would love nothing more than to pass out in his bunk for a few hours of sleep before he has to wake up and make breakfast for the crew. However, he’ll have to wait for a bit longer because his work is still not finished.

Nami is on watch tonight and he has to bring her a snack to tide her over and he refuses to make her wait any longer than she has to. Sanji allows himself to rest for the length of time it takes for him to finish a cigarette before he gets back to work.

He hums to himself as he whips up some of her favourite snacks: a parfait with the mikans from her beloved tree, a batch of shortbread cookies with a vanilla glaze, a bowl of assorted fruit, and a pot of Earl Grey tea.

He smiles, thinking of Nami as he leaves the kitchen and heads to the crow’s nest. Sanji admires everyone on their minuscule crew (even that damned moss-brained swordsman, though he’d never admit it aloud), but Nami truly is something special. Not only is she beautiful beyond compare, but she is unbelievably intelligent, kind, headstrong, and resilient. He is honoured to be on the same crew as someone as amazing as she.

Sanji gets nervous and giddy around her as he does around most women, and he enjoys having her attention. But he’s been working hard on not making her uncomfortable after she told him that she dislikes his flirtatious advances. He would hate to make any woman feel unnerved by him, especially not one whom he considers a friend. He wants Nami to not only think of him as a crewmate and chef but as a friend and someone she can rely on. But Sanji knows that he has to earn that trust. And he will do so one snack at a time.

The smile falls off his face as he climbs the rigging to the nest and hears the sound of someone crying. He is quick to close the distance before he opens up the hatch and makes his way inside.

“Nami-swan, are you alright?”

“Oh, Sanji. I didn’t hear you coming.” The navigator is quick to turn away from him and wipe her eyes. “Thanks for the snack, you can just leave it there.”

When she turns back and sees Sanji sitting across from her and making no effort to leave, Nami resorts to anger. “I thought I told you to fuck off!”

Sanji takes her outburst in stride. “Forgive me, Nami-swan. I don’t mean to overstep, but I couldn’t possibly live with myself if I left you here alone knowing how upset you are. I’ll leave if you really want me to, but maybe I can lend an ear? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Nami studies Sanji as she ponders his offer. The sight of her wet eyes and blotchy face breaks his heart.

“It’s just…” Nami begins tentatively. She glances at Sanji before looking away again, staring up at the stars. She tightens the blanket around her shoulders. “Cocoyashi is finally free. I’m free now. My years of having to work for Arlong are over. But that didn’t fix everything.” Tears begin to fall down her face once again.

“Belle-mere is still dead. Nojiko spent most of her life hating me, and now I’m here at sea and we can’t even work on becoming sisters again. I lost most of my childhood to those assholes who treated me however the fuck they wanted. No matter what I do now, I’ll never get that time back. All the things I did to survive… I can’t take them back.” She inhales shakily. “I’ve spent my whole life hating pirates and now I am one. Who am I now? I barely even recognize myself.”

Sanji pours some tea into the mug he brought and gently presses it into her hands, catching her eye as he speaks.

“I think that’s the best part of getting older,” he says quietly. “We live and learn and decide who we want to be. Take the things that serve you and leave the rest. You said it yourself: you’re free now. Free to choose who it is you want to be. It doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to find that out. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. And it’ll be a long, happy life if I have anything to say about it,” Sanji vows. “I never would’ve seen myself becoming a pirate, either, but being on this crew? Well, it doesn’t seem so bad.”

They sit in silence for a little while before a harsh sob wracks Nami’s figure. “I miss her,” she weeps. “I miss my mom. Why did she have to die?”

Sanji opens up his arms and Nami falls onto him, sobbing into his chest. He takes the mug from her grip and holds her close, whispering assurances into her hair.

“I’m sorry all that happened to you. I wish I could take all that pain for myself,” he says.

“Regardless of what you may have done, I’m sure your mother and sister are proud of you. I’m sure they’re glad that you’re alive and doing what you want with your life. The pain may never go away, but it’s a reminder of the love between you all. You and Nojiko will always be sisters no matter how far apart you are.”

Nami squeezes him tightly as she continues to cry.

“Thank you, Sanji,” she says when her tears have subsided. She pulls herself out of the embrace, accepts the handkerchief the chef passes to her and dabs her eyes. “I’m glad you were here.”

“Of course, Nami. I won’t have all the answers, but I’ll always be willing to listen and do what I can.” Sanji pushes the tray of food closer to Nami. “Here, have something to eat.”

He removes the lid from the tray, looking at Nami in alarm when she lets out another quiet sob.

“Damn it, Sanji, are you trying to make me die from dehydration?” she snaps, though it lacks its usual heat. “Bringing me the food that reminds me of my mom when I’m missing her. You bastard.”

“Shit! I’m sorry, Nami-swan, let me go get something else for you!”

Nami stops him with a hand on his arm. “No, no. This is perfect. Thank you.”

Sanji lights up a cigarette and is quiet company while Nami eats her snacks. She finishes her parfait, half of the cookies, a cup of tea, and some of the fruit before she puts the lid back on the tray. Sanji opens his mouth to speak up but she beats him to it.

“I still have a couple of hours of watch left. I’ll eat the rest before my shift’s done, I promise.”

“Do you want me to take over for you?” Sanji offers.

“No way, you’re exhausted. You need some sleep. And I’m not in the mood to deal with a hungry Luffy first thing in the morning. I’ll be okay.”

When Sanji doesn’t immediately get up to leave, Nami sighs heavily and leans her head on his shoulder. “Ugh, I hate crying! Now my sinuses hurt.”

Sanji blinks past his surprise and wraps his arm around her shoulders as he tries to force down the blush radiating from his cheeks. “Y-yeah. I don’t know how that Long-nose does it so often.”

Nami chuckles. “Maybe the length of his nose helps somehow?”

Sanji hums thoughtfully. “Maybe. Either way, he’s a freak of nature,” he states, the both of them laughing quietly at the sniper's expense.

“Thank you for being here for me, Sanji,” Nami says when they’ve calmed. “I really appreciate it.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Nami,” Sanji promises. “If you ever need someone to talk to or something to eat, I’m here.”

“What if I need this?” Nami plucks the cigarette from Sanji’s lips and takes a drag before placing it back in his mouth. She cackles at the sight of his cherry-red face.

“I-I-I don’t think I can allow that, Nami-swan! You shouldn’t poison yourself with these things!” He tosses the cigarette overboard for good measure, even though he needs about ten more, right now.

“And neither should you,” Nami says stubbornly. She sits up and stretches, turning to Sanji with a contented smile. “I’m okay now, so get out of here and get some sleep! I won't forgive you if my breakfast isn't top-notch like usual.”

“Are you sure?” Sanji shrinks under the glare she sends his way. “Alright, alright, I’m gone. Have a good night, Nami-swan.”

Sanji is halfway down the rigging when Nami leans over the edge of the nest to call down to him. “Oh, and Sanji?”

“Yes, dear?”

The serene smile Nami sends his way almost sends Sanji tumbling down the rigging. “Belle-mere’s mikans taste best when you’ve made something with them.”

With that, Nami hides back in the nest, the sound of a pencil on paper disturbing the silence of the night.

Below, Sanji’s hands hold the rigging in a bruising grip while a goofy smile spreads on his face alongside a heated blush. He holds onto this feeling and memorizes it, storing it deep in his heart. He vows that he will do everything in his power to keep that smile on his navigator’s face.

#sanji #nami #black leg sanji #cat burglar nami #one piece #I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I WROTE THIS LIKE A WOMAN POSSESSED #i didn't even know how badly i was craving a sweet moment between these two until I started writing this so thank you #i hope you like it despite the cringe title #i will write more of them someday but pls accept my humble offering for now #red's writing

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vince-linder · 4 months

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Christmas Exchange!

As part of the lovely cyberpunk xmas exchange, I got to write a lil piece for @mango-parfait :DD Hope my little idea suits what you was picturing :3 _________________________

Still early in the morning, the household of V and Johnny was already awake and getting ready for the day. Johnny, as so often, sitting in the living room on the couch, his guitar in his lap and a cigarette dangling between his lips. He was just scribbling some notes to a song down, before he tried another riff on the guitar, crossing out the previous notes just to try it another way once more. V was in the bathroom, styling himself up and deciding what he was gonna wear for today. It would probably, as so very often, end with him wearing his favorite red jacket, which was fitting so nicely to his bright yellow optics.

“It was at 8 pm, right?” V's voice echoed through the apartment, hoping his partner would hear or answer him, even when the rockerboy was busy on his guitar. And it only took a moment before the answer came. “Yeah, that's what Kerry said.” V nodded to himself, taking a short look into the mirror and brushing once more through his hair. 8 pm, at Afterlife. More than enough time to do a lot of stuff together. He left the bathroom, fully dressed in his usual gear, placing a soft kiss on Johnny’s bearded cheek as he passed him. Just as he wanted to say something else, his phone was ringing. Seeing that it was Regina who called, made V accept the call with a worried expression, while he started to pace through the room. Johnny made only an unhappy grunt, watching his partner pace through their shared apartment, he could tell from his frown alone, that this was no ‘Merry christmas, enjoy the holidays’ call. After all, they were living in Night City, and Night City was always busy with Merc work, even just before christmas. Maybe also, because most of its citizens wouldn’t really celebrate this old holiday. In the end, it was Johnny’s fault that he and V would celebrate with the rest of their friends, there was still a somewhat nostalgic feeling towards Christmas at Johnny’s end and with that he invested all around him to spend the holidays together,letting work be just for a few days at the end of the year. V was doing his best to shift all his work away from the next few days, but sometimes, things went different than planned, especially in Night City. “A fucking what now, in City Center?”, Vs gaze shifted to Johnny for a moment, making a grimace, before he listened again to the caller. Whatever it was Johnny was really hoping V would decline this dumb gig and hold up to his promises. Slowly Johnny stood up from his place on the couch to get closer to V and may pick up one or two pieces from his call. Lazily he slung an arm around Vs waist and tried his best to understand what was going on. “... a Cyberpsycho. Rambling through … stores.” A deep sigh left the rockerboy, V wouldn’t deny that case at all. He would always take serious gigs like that, at any time of day or night. They discussed over and over again, that it never could be more important than his night sleep, or planned meetups with their friends, only to always end it with V being clear about it. Gigs like that always had top priority for V. Crossing his arms in front of his chest he watched V closely with an annoyed expression. “Yeah sure, I am on my way, Regina. Give you a call once I get him down.”, V ended the call and looked over at Johnny, an apologetic smile on his face. “Don’t look at me like this, J. It’s not a big thing for me, but maybe could save a bunch of people in his hood.” “We were clear with this.”, Johnny turned his back to V, his arms still crossed and his voice showing far too well his annoyance “Not a single gig on the holidays. For once.”

“I know, Johnny. But come on. I cannot say no in a situation like this. I promise, it will go smoothly and I will be back right in time when we head out to the Christmas meetup.” A deep sigh left the rockerboy again, as he looked over his shoulder at V. He couldn’t really voice what was making him so uneasy about this all, but the feeling just wouldn’t leave him. Still, he nodded it off. “Fine. But I swear to god, if you are not on time, I'm gonna punch you in the dick.” “Damn it, fine!”, in a playful attempt to surrender, V raised his hands and smiled at Johnny. As always he felt the concern from Johnny, but they wouldn’t talk about it, they never did. “I promise I will be back in no time.”

Hours went by, and still not a single message or call from V. This wasn’t the usual way V handled stuff. But today pretty much nothing was really usual at all. Johnny's gaze was glued to the windows as he really couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was snowing. Here in Night City, just as if this was some cute little Christmas Wonder. But with all the years without snow, this unusual weather turned the city into even more chaos. Drivers weren’t used to handling their vehicles in this weather, nor did most people have anything good to wear for the sudden cold. A slow sigh left the rockerboy as he shifted his gaze from the window to his phone. Still no message, no call. Johnny was worried about V, but coped it with being angry, like he always did. V promised to make it in time and was already late, of course he was. “Fucking snowfall. Bet that’s just some marketing gig from a Corp. Disgusting, they really use everything to make their sales go up. Fucking corpo rats.”

He searched through their wardrobe, picking up a few sweaters and jackets that look somewhat warm, but neither he nor V had much clothes against the cold, as it was pretty unusual by now. In the end he picked a black sweater without much on it and a fur-lined leather jacket he found deep down behind all the summery clothing. Another quick gaze on his phone, still no message from V, and he headed out to meet up with the others at Afterlife. Hopefully V will join him soon. If not, he would have to search for him. A sudden wave of negative thoughts, what may have happened to V hitted Johnny, as an especially cold wind gust blew into his face, making him feel the freezing cold far too well. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the bad thoughts. As he was slowly walking through the city, watching the snow settle on everything and lulling the city in a certain kind of silence. Johnny could remember his childhood days, before all this chaos emerged in his life. Just playing in the snow, throwing snowballs with his friends or building a snowman with the most goofy design. After a short walk, that was surprisingly refreshing, Johnny reached the Afterlife. Without much problem he got inside and already could spot their friends at one of the big corner tables, sitting together and talking about whatever. Johnny took a deep breath before he slowly headed towards them. “Hee Johnny, you finally arrived. Where’s your better half?” Kerry asked towards him in a mocking tone and made room for Johnny to sit down next to him. From Rogue he got a mug with steaming hot cocoa, he took a long sip and noticed the sudden silence around him. “What?” “Is V.. not coming?” Misty’s voice already showed deep concern. It wasn’t usual that one would appear without the other. Johnny made an annoyed huff, placing the mug back on the table. “Dumbass is just late, like always. What else do you expect from him?”, his voice was snarky and angry, hiding far too well his own concern for V and his well being. “Did you hear from him? The kid will absolutely not be used to this weather.” “Nah. And not gonna call after him, not his babysitter.”, Johnny fumbled for his pack of cigarettes and lit one up, taking a long deep breath from the cigarette. He never asked for permission for doing so, and got angry gazes for it. But his mind was filled with concern for V. An hour. V was an hour over the time, and with every passing minute Johnny got more agitated. He couldn’t really follow the conversation anymore, his leg twitching nervously up and down. Only Kerry seemed to notice his behavior, but also kept his mouth shut about it. Still not a single message from V. Johnny only picked up several accidents and problems the news were talking about in the background, more than usual, because this weather was pure mayhem for Night City. Finally the door swung open, echoing against the wall with a deep thud and made once more fall everyone silent. Without any word V came to the table of his friends and partner and sat down next to Johnny. He looked exhausted and like shit, here and there stains of the works he just did.

“Where the fuck have you been?”Johnny lowered his voice but the anger was clear in it.

“Eh. After the Psycho, there were a bunch of problems because of this… this white shit. People are going crazy in the city. Trying to eat it, sell it, telling stories how this is a sign that the world is ending. You know the drill. I helped to get a few hoods back under control.”, V gladly took the hot cocoa from the table and took a few thirsty sips, before he looked at the faces of his friends. A small, tired smile grew on his face. “You dumbass had your friends worried! And that's all you say? Could have called, you know?” Johnny flicked against Vs head, looking at him, but all the anger from his voice wasn't visible in his gaze, there were a bunch of other emotions. “Sorry to let you wait. Somehow all my calls or messages couldn’t connect through. I guess another problem with this fucked up weather.” Johnny was dumbfounded and for a rare moment felt silent. The thought that the weather may be the reason for V not texting or calling him never occurred to his brain. Of course, the net as it was by now, would have problems with stuff alike. He sighed and nodded it off, deep down happy that V was finally here. V took another long sip from the cocoa, breathing out the hot steam with a content demeanor. Now after they got this out of their systems, he scooted closer to Johnny, leaning his head on the rockerboys shoulder. Johnny gulped down the urge to say something nasty and was deep down really glad that his partner finally was here at his side, in one piece, without bad injuries. “You are a fucking idiot V.” “And you are an asshole.”

An amused huff left the rockerboy as he slung his arm around Vs back, pulling him a bit closer and sharing the warmth with him. With a raised brow, Johnny noticed how very calm and silent V got, taking the cup of hot cocoa out of his hand and placing it back on the table. He only got an approving hum with his Merc, who cuddled deeper against the rockerboy, fully ignoring that they were in public and both Rogue and Kerry were watching this scene with puzzled emotions. A small smile played around Johnny's lips, watching his Merc dozing off in his arms. He would never say it openly, but this was exactly what he was always craving, just a moment of peace with his beloved. Johnny’s hand rose up to carefully brush through V’s hair, while his gaze shifted back to Rogue and Kerry, picking up the conversation with them again.

#cp77nyex #others ocs #cyberpunk 2077 #gift art

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eilosyne · 3 months

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J'aimerais être une de ces jolies filles fumée de cigarette dans les narines et bière à la main et sourire parfait J'aimerais être un de ces beaux garçons khôlle noir musique forte ongles rongés cernes violettes J'y pense je les envie

J'aimerais être Toi qui t'enfonce l'aiguille toi qui enfonce ton sexe tremblant Arrière de la nuque qu'est-ce que c'est que ce désir brûlant ? J'aimerais être La voix qui se brise au téléphone le cœur qui s'accélère ou se tait Cou engourdi sueurs dégoulinantes chaleur de l'été lit défait j'aimerais être la sensation de couler en toi comme on plonge dans la mer cailloux dans les poches j'aimerais être deux yeux dans la lumière bleue qui se balancent dans le son qui me rend sourde j'aimerais être un baiser fugitif la baise fugitive le truc là, ce truc là oui le truc qu'on ne dit pas qu'on n'ose pas prononcer à voix haute moi je le crie je le crie chut chut chut tais-toi bon sang c'est moi qui crie

le silence cinq heures du matin je m'éclipserais de tes draps pour rejoindre le reste des disparues brûler en amazonie avec tous les autres arbres et petites fourmis petites mollécules disparaître ensemble

quelle aubaine quel rêve d'être diaphane

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cyberpunkboytoy · 1 year

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The AI after I feed it the entirety of the Slow Damage script:

I took a long drag from my cigarette. In Shinkoumi, you could see corpses freezing on the street all winter long. Many were debtors. But most people didn’t spare them a passing glance, having gotten used to stepping over bodies.

Taking a swig of liquor, I looked out the window and pulled out a cigarette. A decade ago the city wasn't this way. But now it was, and nobody cared except for the few people that did.

"Are you ONLY having alcohol, Towa?" Rei frowned, looking petulant. "Sheesh, you like, hardly ever eat!"

Blowing smoke to the side, I hummed noncommittally. Rei groaned around a bite of parfait and limped his wrist with disappointment.

Just then the door opened, a plain-looking guy entering my field of view. His smoke pulsed an earthy green, but it didn’t catch my interest.

Putting out my cigarette, I lit another cigarette.

#slow damage #shitpost #JASTBLUE #JAST BLUE #Towa slow damage #textpost

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sofya-fanfics · 6 months

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La femme qu’il aimait

Fandoms : Naruto / One Piece

Relationship : Sanji x Sakura

Voici ma participation pour le Flufftober 2023 pour le prompt extra : Créer un crossover de deux où plusieurs fandoms.

J’espère que ça vous plaira.

Résumé : Sanji se dirigea d’un pas rapide vers le pont du Sunny. Il savait qu’il la trouverait là. Sakura-swan, pensa-t-il avec un regard rêveur et un immense sourire.

Disclaimer : Naruto appartient à Masashi Kishimoto et One Piece appartient à Eiichiro Oda.

@flufftober

AO3 / FF.NET

Sanji sortit de la cuisine. La nuit était tombée et l’air frais le fit frissonner. Il boutonna sa veste et alluma une cigarette. Il avait rangé la cuisine et préparé les menus pour le lendemain. Sa journée était enfin terminée. Il allait toujours se coucher après tout le monde et se levait avant les autres. Mais il ne se plaignait pas. Il était cuisinier et il aimait cela. C’était sa vie et il n’en changerait pour rien au monde.

Il se dirigea d’un pas rapide vers le pont du Sunny. Il savait qu’il la trouverait là. Sakura-swan, pensa-t-il avec un regard rêveur et un immense sourire. Il arriva sur le pont. Elle était assise par terre, adossée contre le mur et elle regardait les étoiles. Elle semblait tellement paisible qu’il se sentait coupable de la déranger.

« Te voilà enfin, dit-elle.

-J’ai été retardé par Luffy. J’ai dû l’empêcher de manger toute la viande qu’on a. »

Elle rit légèrement. Sanji s’assit à côté d’elle et Sakura s’approcha un peu plus de lui, réduisant l’écart entre eux. Il pouvait sentir son bras frôler le sien. Il n’aurait pas su dire si elle l’avait fait inconsciemment.

C’était devenu un rituel entre eux. Le soir, lorsque tout l’équipage était couché, ils se retrouvèrent sur le pont pour regarder les étoiles, pour parler de tout et de rien, ou pour profiter du calme après le dîner mouvementé qui avait eu lieu quelques heures plus tôt. Ils ne restèrent que quelques minutes, mais ce moment passé avec Sakura était le meilleur moment de sa journée.

Sakura était devenue un membre de l’équipage après leur combat contre Arlong, alors qu’ils se dirigèrent vers Grand Line. Ils avaient accosté sur une île où elle était médecin et après avoir empêché des pirates d’envahir l’île, elle avait accepté la proposition de Luffy de les rejoindre. Un jour, il lui avait demandé pourquoi elle avait décidé de les suivre. Elle lui avait répondu avec un sourire rempli de tristesse :

« Parce qu’il me fait penser à quelqu’un qui m’était cher. Il a ce rêve impossible et pourtant, on est prêt à le suivre en ayant une confiance aveugle en lui. »

Elle lui avait décrit parfaitement ce que tous ressentaient pour leur capitaine. Même si Sakura restait encore un mystère pour lui, il savait qu’elle était originaire des nations ninjas où la guerre avait fait rage il y a quelques années. Il se souvint que tous les journaux en avaient parlé.

Elle lui avait parlé de deux de ses amis qu’elle avait perdu durant la guerre. Ils s’étaient combattus jusqu’à s’entre-tuer. Elle s’en voulait de ne pas avoir pu les sauver. Quand elle lui avait raconté cette partie de sa vie, des larmes coulaient le long de ses joues, elle disait que si elle avait été plus rapide, plus forte, elle aurait pu les arrêter et les sauver. Sanji l’avait tenu dans ses bras jusqu’à ce qu’elle se sente mieux.

C’était la première fois qu’ils s’étaient retrouvés seuls sur le pont et que leur rituel avait commencé.

Lorsqu’il s’était retrouvé sur Whole Cake Island, c’étaient ces moments avec elle qui lui manquaient le plus. Lorsqu’il croyait ne plus jamais la revoir, cela l’avait fait énormément souffrir. Mais elle était venue le chercher avec tous les membres de l’équipage, elle s’était battue pour lui et pour qu’il revienne auprès d’eux. Il l’avait toujours aimé, comme il aimait Robin ou Nami. Mais à ce moment précis, il avait réalisé qu’il l’aimait d’un amour véritable et qu’il voulait passer le reste de sa vie avec elle. Il ne lui avait pas encore dévoilé ses sentiments. Il avait peur de sa réaction, peur qu’elle ne le croit pas sincère. Il n’était pas encore prêt à perdre ce qu’ils avaient.

Il la vit frissonner. Il retira sa veste et la lui posa sur ses épaules. Elle écarquilla les yeux, surprise, et le remercia. Elle serra un peu plus la veste contre elle pour se réchauffer. Elle se mit à rire légèrement.

« Qu’est-ce qu’il y a ? Demanda Sanji en souriant.

-Rien. C’est juste que ta veste sent comme toi. Un mélange de cigarette et de pain. Je trouve ça réconfortant. »

Sanji rougit et son cœur se mit à battre un peu plus fort. Chaque jour, il tombait un peu plus amoureux d’elle. Il la sentit poser sa tête sur son épaule. Il regarda vers elle. Elle avait les yeux fermés et elle souriait. Il sourit, en tirant sur sa cigarette, et ferma les yeux à son tour. Il profita de ce moment passé seul auprès de Sakura en espérant qu’il dure le plus longtemps possible.

Fin

#flufftober #flufftober2023 #naruto #one piece #crossover #sanji x sakura #sanji vinsmoke #sakura haruno #my writing

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brainfilehasstoppedworking · 2 months

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Takaaki ironed out his shirt and old suit. Monomi had begged him to have dinner with her for Valentine's Day. Which was odd to him. That's typically something you and your partner do together. He didn't say anything and just shrugged. Takaaki put on the just ironed shirt and the suit. He adjusted the cuffs of the shirt and looked in the mirror. He looked…okay.

Takaaki stepped out into the living room, "You done?" He asked Monomi. "A-Almost!" Monomi answered back.

"Take your time." Takaaki grabbed the box of cigarettes on the table and took one cigarette out. He lit it and took a drag of it. Inhaling the smoke.

"I'm ready!" Monomi said with a happy tone.

Takaaki turned to look at her, almost dropping the cigarette currently in his mouth. His mouth went agape. She had a really pretty red dress, her hair was put up in a ponytail with two strands of hair out of it. She wore heart earrings with a matching heart purse. She had color matching pumps that were strapped to her ankles. Her makeup was done too.

She looked…pretty.

"Oh, shit." Takaaki smiled at her. "Looking really pretty there, Usami!" Takaaki exclaimed happily.

Monomi smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Yay! I knew you'd like it!" Monomi said with the brightest of smiles. Takaaki wrapped an arm around her, "Shall we go?" He asked her. She nodded. Takaaki put on his shoes and they headed outside. "So, where did you want to go?" Takaaki asked. "There's this restaurant that recently opened and I wanted to give it a try! I heard they have this amazing strawberry parfait for the rest of strawberry season! And they decorate it specifically for all of February!" Monomi rambled on, holding onto Takaaki's arm happily.

Monomi gave him the directions of the restaurant and they got in the car.

Monomi was humming along to whatever song she put on while Takaaki just stayed silent. Been a while since he's taken someone out to dinner. At least it was with a friend, but boy did he feel nervous.

They made it to the restaurant and were seated at their table after almost an hour of waiting. They sat down and looked at the menu. "What are you getting?" Takaaki asked. Monomi looked at the menu, almost intensely. It was adorably funny how she looked. "Hmm…I'm not sure! Mm…wanna share something?" Monomi asked him.

Takaaki shrugged, "Sure. Yeah."

Monomi nodded and the two started to look for something they could share. They also looked at the desserts which Monomi really wanted the parfait. It looked…really sweet and Takaaki wasn't much of a fan of sweet things. But Monomi really wanted to share it with him. He gave in, sighing.

She seemed happy about it, he couldn't resist.

"So, what made you want to come here?" Takaaki asked.

"O-Oh! Well…I just uh…" Her cheeks flushed red. "I wanted to uhm…go out with you on Valentine's Day. Because I just…um…you seem lonely and I felt like maybe you and me can just go here!" Monomi stammered and mumbled. Takaaki chuckled, smiling at her. "Okay then. That's awful sweet of you." He said, taking a sip of his water.

Monomi giggled nervously.

The waiter came and introduced himself, then started taking their order. He smiled and nodded, telling them he will be back with their drinks and left their table.

The two just idly waited for him to come back, awkwardly looking at the decorations.

"It's nicely decorated! Very pretty." Monomi complimented. "Yeah, very nice." Takaaki agreed. The two continued to talk as the waiter came back with their drinks and eventually their food. Monomi seemed to enjoy the food. Takaaki didn't really like it himself, but he'd still eat it.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Takaaki said with a laugh at the excitement Monomi was showing as she ate. "I am!" Monomi said with her cheeks turning red again.

They finished eating their meal and the waiter came back, asking if they wanted anything else and Monomi ordered the dessert she wanted. He nodded and left their table again for the night. "I can't wait to try it! It looks really good. And from what I heard it is!" Monomi said with a huge smile. Takaaki couldn't help but feel his heart melt a bit from this adorable being.

The man came back with the treat and Monomi didn't wait one second to start eating it.

Takaaki couldn't even get his spoon in because she was so bust enjoying it by herself. "Gee, Usami. At least let me try it." Takaaki laughed. Monomi stopped, blushing in embarrassment. "S-Sorry, Aki!" She apologized to him, then removed her spoon and handed the treat to him.

He took his spoon and grabbed a small spoonful of it. He took a taste of it, "It's really good. Can see why people really like it." Takaaki said as he handed back the cup to the girl in front of him and she continued to eat it. Only with him getting little spoonfuls.

Yeah, the dessert was the main highlight of the night. Not even the dinner itself which sucked. He shrugged, at least Monomi was happy.

They finished the parfait and Takaaki requested the check so they can leave. "Did you enjoy dinner?" Takaaki asked as he looked at the bill. Monomi nodded, "Yup! It was delicious!" She answered. "Glad to hear." He ran a hand through Monomi's front bangs, smiling. He mentally cursed out the bill as he saw how expensive the meal was. Wishing the electricity farewell again.

"I can pay half! You see to be mad…" Monomi said as she looked over at the bill. "No, it's fine…don't worry." Takaaki lied. He payed for their meal and they left the restaurant. Takaaki wrapped an arm around Monomi as Monomi rested her hand on his. "The parfait was really yummy." Monomi said.

"Yeah, I think I knew that." Takaaki joked.

Monomi giggled. "I'm ready to go home and just sleep." Monomi said with a yawn. "Same here." Takaaki agreed with her. They got in the car again for the night and drove home. Takaaki basically had to carry Monomi inside the house because she was half asleep. "Don't fall asleep in your dress. You'll get drool on it." Takaaki told her as he dragged her to her room to change her outfit.

After they both changed out of their outfits, they laid down next to each other in bed and fell asleep. "Goodnight, Usami." Takaaki said through a sleepy voice. "Night-night." Monomi whispered, snuggling up against him. "Happy Valentine's Day.." She added and dozed off. "Same to you." He responded.

#Okay anyways– *dies*#sam's talky talks #Sammy's fanfics #danganronpa #takaaki ishimaru #monomi #usami #danganronpa usami

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presentslointains · 10 days

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Le coffret cadeau personnalisable spécial cuir pour lui

Découvrez l'élégance intemporelle du coffret cuir de zébu, une véritable ode au raffinement masculin. Ce coffret est bien plus qu'un simple contenant ; il incarne l'essence même de l'homme moderne, celui qui sait apprécier les objets uniques et sophistiqués.

À l'image de ceux qui savent distinguer le vrai luxe, ce coffret allie tradition et modernité dans un équilibre parfait. Chaque détail a été pensé pour séduire les connaisseurs exigeants, ceux qui recherchent l'exclusivité et l'authenticité.

À l'intérieur de ce coffret d'exception se cachent des trésors qui sauront combler les hommes les plus exigeants. Des accessoires en cuir d'une qualité remarquable, fabriqués à partir du cuir de zébu, réputé pour sa robustesse et son élégance naturelle. Portefeuilles, étuis, ceintures, chaque pièce est une ode à la sophistication et à la praticité, conçue pour accompagner l'homme moderne dans toutes ses aventures.

Mais ce coffret va bien au-delà de la simple collection d'accessoires en cuir. Il incarne un mode de vie, une attitude, un état d'esprit. Il symbolise la force et la résilience du zébu, animal emblématique de Madagascar, dont le cuir est utilisé depuis des générations pour créer des objets d'une rare beauté.

Ce coffret est à l’image de ceux-là qui apprécient les objets uniques et raffinés tout en étant modernes. À l’intérieur, chaque pièce raconte une histoire, celle de l'artisanat d'exception, du savoir-faire traditionnel transmis de génération en génération.

Offrir ce coffret, c'est offrir bien plus qu'un simple cadeau ; c'est offrir une expérience, une invitation à découvrir l'élégance intemporelle du cuir de zébu, à embrasser la sophistication et le charme de l'artisanat malgache.

Pour l'homme qui sait apprécier la beauté et la qualité, le coffret cuir de zébu est le cadeau parfait, une véritable déclaration de style et de distinction.

Le coffret cadeau personnalisable spécial cuir pour lui est composé de :

un portefeuille en cuir authentique, confectionné à la main à partir du cuir de zébu, illustration d’une combinaison parfaite de durabilité et d'élégance ;

• un porte-cartes pratique en cuir de zébu, conçu pour les hommes modernes, pouvant contenir plusieurs cartes sans encombrer vos poches ;

• une ceinture robuste, accessoire intemporel, qui symbolise la force et la confiance ;

• un porte-cigarettes en cuir de zébu pour les amateurs de cigarettes.

Bien plus que des cadeaux matériels, ces coffrets sont l’expression d'un amour authentique.

https://presentslointains-madagascar.com/products/le-coffret-personnalisable-cuir-de-zebu-pour-lui

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purplefox-writes · 1 year

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Tom in Paris (T.M.R x singer)

Summary: Tom is exploring the muggle world and ends up in a jazz club in Paris, where he meets a sultry jazz singer.

Word-count: 1200

Content warnings: none

Tom stood in front of the unassuming entrance of a jazz club in the heart of Paris, hesitant to enter. He had never before stepped in such muggle establishment, but his growing fascination with their world had led him here. With a deep breath, Tom squared his shoulders, determined to take this first step into the unknown.

As Tom entered the jazz club, he was hit with a wave of warm, smoky air. The lighting was low and intimate, casting a golden glow over the patrons who lounged in plush velvet booths and at the bar. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and cigarette smoke, and the room hummed with the low murmur of conversation and laughter.

"Bonsoir, monsieur," greeted the French hostess with a warm smile. "Une table pour combien de personnes?"

“Bonsoir. It’s just me. May I sit at the bar?" Tom replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in his chest.

"Of course, follow me, sir," the hostess said, leading Tom to a prime seat at the bar with a direct view of the stage. "Is this to your liking?"

Tom met her eyes. "C'est parfait, merci beaucoup."

Tom sat at the bar, slowly getting lost in thought as he took in the atmosphere. The sultry notes of the saxophone filled the air, and he felt himself swaying to the rhythm.

His eyes were drawn to the stage, where a beautiful singer stepped in front of the microphone. She wore a slinky red dress that hugged her curves, and her long, dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. As she began to sing, Tom felt as if the room fell away and he was transported to another world. He listened to the slow song about heartache and longing.

Her voice was smooth and silky, with just a hint of raspiness. He watched as she closed her eyes and swayed to the music, her body moving in time with the beat. It was as if she was lost in the music, and Tom found himself mesmerized by her.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur, would you like a drink?" the bartender's heavily accented English pulled him out of his reverie.

Tom turned to him and nodded. "Sure. What do you recommend?"

The bartender leaned forward, a twinkle in his eye. "I have just the thing," he said, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf. He leaned towards Tom as if indulging him in a secret. "It's not even on the menu."

He poured a small glass and place it in from of Tom, who took a sip and savored the smooth, smoky flavor. It was unlike anything he had tasted before, and he felt a warmth spreading through his body. The wizarding world could not hold a candle to the exquisite beverages of the muggle world, he pondered.

And then, his eyes fell upon her beautiful petite singer, her voice wrapping around him like a warm embrace. She was like a vision in red. Her voice was like some kind of magic, a spell that he was powerless to resist.

As the song came to an end, the room erupted in applause. Tom joined in, feeling a sense of awe and wonder. Her eyes met his intense gaze and he inclined his glass to her in a silent toast.

With a sultry smile on her lips, she made her way through the crowd and over to where Tom sat at the bar. As she approached him, Tom felt his heart race with anticipation, his eyes locked onto hers.

"Bonsoir," she said, her voice low and seductive.

"Bonsoir," Tom replied, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on her figure.

"I couldn't help but notice you during my performance," the singer said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tom felt a flush of heat spread across his cheeks, but he couldn't look away from her. She was like a siren, pulling him closer with each passing moment.

"You have an incredible voice," Tom said, voice steady.

The singer chuckled, leaning in closer to him. "Thank you," she said. "I couldn't help but notice the way you were looking at me. Do you have a name?"

"Tom," he said.

The singer smiled, running a hand through her hair. "I'm glad to meet you, Tom. “Je suis Amélie."

Amélie. It was like music to his ears.

"So, Tom," Amélie purred, her voice low and seductive. "Would you like to buy me a drink?"

"Of course," he said, gesturing to the bartender.

The bartender quickly poured Amélie a glass of champagne, leaving the bottle in the ice bucket on the bar. Tom watched as she took a sip, her eyes locked onto his.

Running her finger along the rim of her glass she asked. "What brings you to this part of Paris?"

Tom hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to reveal too much about his true intentions in the muggle world.

"Just exploring," he finally said, trying to keep his tone light.

Amélie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Exploring? That sounds interesting. What kind of exploring?" He brought her glass to her lips, her eyes never leaving him.

"Oh, just trying to broaden my horizons," he said sipping as well from his glass.

Amélie chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Well, I can certainly help you with that,"

"Is that so?" Tom said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Amélie chuckled, her fingers trailing over Tom's hand. "Oh yes," she said, a sly smile on her lips. "I know all the best spots in Paris. The hidden gems that most tourists never get to see."

As the jazz band played on, Amelie leaned in closer to Tom, her eyes fixed on his.

"So, Tom, you’re a man of mystery, aren't you?"

Tom chuckled, trying to keep his guard up. "I suppose you could say that," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm just a man trying to live in this world," he said, his eyes dropping to her hand.

Amelie chuckled, her fingers trailing over Tom's hand. "Aren't we all?" she said, a sly smile on her lips. "I have a poem I'd like to recite to you."

With a sense of curiosity building within him, he gestured: "Please, go ahead,".

Amelie smiled, her eyes locked onto his, and began:

"Mystery unfolds,

Life's secrets lie hidden deep,

Unseen, yet felt whole."

"That was beautiful, Amelie, thank you”, Tom whispered, kissing the knuckles of her hand gently.

“It's a haiku, a type of Japanese poetry," Amelie explained. "It's typically composed of three lines, with the first and last lines containing five syllables and the middle line containing seven syllables."

"But it's not just a poem. It's how I feel about you right now."

"By the way, I'd like that," Tom said, his voice a low murmur.

“What that might be?” she asked.

“To explore the city together”, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Amélie leaned forward in her seat, her face so close to his that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. "Then it's settled," she said, I'll show you all the best parts."

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