Food Manga

Good afternoon tuloy po kay- natutup ni Yumi ang bibig ng makita ang apat na lalakeng pumasok sa flower shop nya. kahit ang apat na lalake ay gulat na gulat ang mga ito. Y-yumi? sambit ng lalake na iniwan nya 7 years ago. Ang liit ang mundo ano?di mo akalain na dito pala natin sya makita.saad ng kasama ng lalakeng pilit kung kinalimutan. A'ah bibili po ba kayo ng bulaklak?wait lang po tawagin ko lang ang assistant ko. parang gusto kunang mag palamon ng lupa at ngayon mismo. aaslis sana ako...Oo bibili kami sagot ng lalakeng masama ang tingin nito sa kanya at nakatiim bagang pa. Okay maupo muna kayo dyan para hintayin ang oorderin nyo. tatalikod na sana ako pero bigla itong nag salita. bakit mo ako iniwan? tanong nito na kulang nalang ay kainin ako nito ng buhay. ah sir hindi kupo ang alam ang sinasasabi mo cge po tawagin ko lan-mommy mommy sabay sabay ng dalawang bata na kakapasok lang. nanghihina ang tuhod ko bahang nakatingin sa dalawang bata sa harapan ko. mommy mommy pukaw nito sakin..tiningnan ko ang hitsura ng kaharap kung lalake.ay maskin sya ay nanlalake ang mga mata.habang nakatingin sa dalawang bata mom I'm hungry na po saad ng anak kung babae. me too mom i'm hungry too. A-ah okay cge mga anak pumasok muna kayo sa loob mag hahanda ako ng food nyo. okay mom sabay sabay nitong sagot. ma'am may order ba? sulpot ng assistant ko. para naman akung nakahinga ng dumating ito. ah Oo mae pasuyo naman sa order nilang bulaklak ha! tatalikod nako ng nag tanong ito.Anak mo sila? hindi nako lumingon pa dito. Oo lang sagot ko at umalis nako dahil parang matutumba nako sa lambot ng binti ko. wrong timing talaga!

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

Young Immanuel Gonzales roamed the streets at age seven. His mother died when he was three years old, while his father was accused of killing his co-worker at a construction site. His relatives did not bother to take him but instead, made a vagabond out of him. Hungry and tired, he met a young girl who gave him food to eat. He was grateful and told himself that someday he would show his appreciation for the good deeds done to him. Living alone, he had encountered lots who had hurt him, but he continued to live came one person who had helped him finish his studies and he became a lawyer. One rainy night, he helped a woman who got scared from a homeless person. The first time they met, both felt that there was something that would bind them together which would make or break them apart. He was a lawyer who came from a poor family, handsome and smart, whose father was a victim of injustice....and she, a rich and pretty heiress, who had been engaged to be married to a wealthy person. Both fell into the abyss of deep affection....a love that caused them to be apart...living their lives with regret and loneliness

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

When I woke up, I had somehow become trapped in the body of my disobedient daughter. I had sacrificed everything, living frugally to send her to the best school. Yet, she called me almost daily, claiming—like someone trapped in a paranoid delusion—that her teachers and classmates were out to harm her. She was willful and rebellious, picky about food, befriending the wrong crowd, and even dating a troublemaker at a young age. As a sister, she was far from kind, constantly bullying her younger brother. And school? Surely, it couldn’t be harder than working a full-time job. But then, as I lived in her shoes, a group of girls cornered me in the restroom, kicking me mercilessly. Returning home, I was met not with care but with a sorry excuse for a meal. Only then did I begin to understand the pain my daughter had endured...

The financially disadvantaged student I was sponsoring secretly went behind my back and sold my small island, which was worth two billion dollars. I was furious and confronted her, but she publicly slandered me in front of the entire school. She exclaimed, "I saw you doing unspeakable things with eighteen men on that island! You're still young and you can't keep making mistakes like this. I sold the island for your own good!" I was so enraged that I kicked her to the ground and prepared to call the police, but my brother stopped me. He and my fiancé stood in front of the student, protecting her. They accused me of being violent and in need of medical treatment. Before I could resist, they joined forces and threw me into a psychiatric hospital, where I died that night from food poisoning. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I discovered the island had been sold.

The Rogue King disguises himself as a food delivery person to assassinate my mate—Lucas Wolfgang, the Alpha of Moonbane pack. It's Valentine's day, but Lucas is spending it with his childhood sweetheart. When the Rogue King's assassination fails, he threatens me with my daughter Tina and forces me to ingest wolfsbane. I speak to him to drag things out while contacting Lucas through our mind-link. "Lucas, Tina and I need you…" However, Lucas has cut off our mind-link. He doesn't respond, and I have no choice but to take the wolfsbane. Before the Rogue King leaves, he mocks me for being a failure. I'm the Luna of Moonbane pack, yet I don't have my husband's heart. Tina calls Lucas. "Come home, Daddy! Mommy's bleeding everywhere!" He merely says coldly, "I've told you this many times, Tina. Stop being a liar like your mother!" I've never lied to him, and neither has Tina. Ultimately, he kneels before my grave in tears, looking like a poor little puppy. He begs me not to abandon him.

For centuries, hundreds of wars raged between wolves and Lycans. Wolves fought, and became the dominant species. As a result, the Lycans had to retaliate to survive and needed mates to save their kind. THEY NEED SHE-WOLVES TO BECOME THEIR BREEDER. And here my kind comes who were destined to live in this discipline until they died in return for food and protection. The worst thing was my people were never treated as pack members nor counted as rogues. WE WERE CALLED AS PARAMOURS- THE PLEASURE PROVIDER. But everything was an illusion for me because I didn't know I was a wolf or more until I MET HIM. Mystery beneath his skin, and the havoc he carried in his eyes, reading me like he came from the darkness to get me only. I am Savannah, and I never knew I was his MOON- CALLED- POSSESSION.

Angela currently plunges into poverty that forces her to went into prostitution where she sells her body to keep her two younger siblings alive, paying their school fees and put food on their table at least twice a day. Despite experiencing the whip of life, she didn't lose hope. She believes one day she will be freed from prostitution, she will feel loved, respected and cared for. She still believes there's someone who will come to hold her hand and help her to get out of the mud. And the person who's going to save her is her childhood friend who went abroad to study way back seven years ago. What if her childhood friend came back all of the sudden? Is she will going to reveal her secret as a prostitute just to make her save by him? Or hide it just to make her man stay in her life? Is it possible for a prostitute like her to have a happy ever after to a knight shimmering shining armor like in books and fairytales? Let's find out in Magda.

My mother-in-law is extremely frugal. She reuses paper others have discarded, carefully saving the unmarked portions. She even takes the black waste oil from the kitchen range hood and uses it to cook our meals. She says, "Frugality is a virtue—it brings blessings!" I try tirelessly to convince her otherwise, throwing out all her filthy items to protect my family's health. But while she praises me to my face, behind my back, she uses my baby's food scissors to clip her grimy toenails. My child eventually dies of a lung infection, leaving me heartbroken. My mother-in-law, however, points her finger at me, saying I'm unlucky and that I've brought misfortune to their family. Even my husband blames me. In the end, they use a knitting needle to pierce my throat and stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day I first see her picking up dirty paper. The first thing I do is hide all the high-quality tissue paper I had stocked up on before my pregnancy, pretending I knew nothing. She calls these blessings, right? Fine. The blessings of this miserly frugality—she can reap them all herself!