All you really need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt [OPEN]
Who: Lemina Ausa and Shimura Shinpachi, open to anyone who wants to stop by the Yorozuya and interrupt
What: Due to her injuries and her need for someone to wait on her hand and foot, Shinpachi invited Lemina to sleep over after the Holosseum event. Without Gintoki's permission. Scandalous.
When: Backdated to Valentine's, starting early in the day. Follows this thread and this thread.
Where: The Yorozuya.
Warnings: Cake, fluff, tsuntsun and deredere. Troll at will.
She didn't ask if she could take over the kitchen. Why would she ask that? Who would mind?
No one, that's who! Because the Yorozuya was now filled with the smell of chocolate cake baking. Who could possibly complain about that?
It wasn't perfect. She could already tell that without pulling it out of the oven. After all, she was not a gourmet chef, and she was working from memory, not a recipe. But it wasn't like she had never done this before. She and her mother had lived a life of thrift, in a city so fallen from stature that it didn't even have a nice bakery. Meaning the few times she ever wanted such a delicacy, she had to bake it herself.
"That's that. Now it just needs time to bake," she muttered to herself, wiping her hands clean on a towel before limping her way back to Shinpachi's room.
What: Due to her injuries and her need for someone to wait on her hand and foot, Shinpachi invited Lemina to sleep over after the Holosseum event. Without Gintoki's permission. Scandalous.
When: Backdated to Valentine's, starting early in the day. Follows this thread and this thread.
Where: The Yorozuya.
Warnings: Cake, fluff, tsuntsun and deredere. Troll at will.
She didn't ask if she could take over the kitchen. Why would she ask that? Who would mind?
No one, that's who! Because the Yorozuya was now filled with the smell of chocolate cake baking. Who could possibly complain about that?
It wasn't perfect. She could already tell that without pulling it out of the oven. After all, she was not a gourmet chef, and she was working from memory, not a recipe. But it wasn't like she had never done this before. She and her mother had lived a life of thrift, in a city so fallen from stature that it didn't even have a nice bakery. Meaning the few times she ever wanted such a delicacy, she had to bake it herself.
"That's that. Now it just needs time to bake," she muttered to herself, wiping her hands clean on a towel before limping her way back to Shinpachi's room.