#and thus the author made choices for them

[theostrophywife]

devil eyes.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: devil eyes by hippie sabotage.

author's note: this spicy fic is in collaboration with my darling @writingsbychlo. make sure you check out hide and seek. we've been scheming for weeks and i'm so happy to finally share this fun little story with all of you. keep an eye out for some cheeky cameos 👀

The cardinal rule of Gryffindor House was plain and simple—never ever make a bet with the Weasley twins. 

Anyone stupid enough to do so either found themselves out a pocketful of galleons or worse, owing Fred and George a no questions asked favour that the pesky redheads could cash in at any time. 

Unfortunately, you were a little more than tipsy off of a bottle of firewhisky and bet one of the twins, Fred? George?—you couldn’t remember which ginger you’d sold your soul to—that you could easily outfly him on the pitch during a quidditch after party. After a violent hangover, the annoying git actually showed up outside of your dorm with a Firebolt in each hand. 

“Let’s see those skills in action then, Y/N.” 

On a normal day, you might’ve managed it. You were smaller and lighter than Fred, which gave you an advantage in flight, but as your head pounded and your stomach churned, you knew there was no way you were getting on that bloody broom. Though your house motto was all about being bold and brave, you weren’t reckless enough to risk it. 

Instead, you settled for a favour. 

In hindsight, you probably should’ve just stuck to death by eating shit on the quidditch pitch. It would’ve been a hell of a lot better than trying to squeeze yourself into a stupid tiny little costume that bordered on exotic dancer more than scary witch, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. You had a debt to settle. Fred made sure to remind you of that.

While the rest of your housemates headed to the Forbidden Forest, you were busy preparing for the vital role that your ginger overlords had assigned to you for the night. Since it was Fred and George’s last year, the twins were determined to solidify their status as Hogwarts legends. What better way to leave their mark than throwing a huge rager in the forest? Thus, the All Hallow’s Eve Fest was born. 

As far as your professors knew, it would be a small festival to celebrate the season complete with carnival games, enchanted rides, and cornfield mazes. All harmless fun. But the student body knew that the Weasley twins had something far more devious up their sleeves. 

From what Fred told you, the night would be full of secret passages, elaborate tricks, and actors and actresses who would add to the whole allure. You were to be one of them. Tonight, you were playing the part of a seductive sorceress who ripped out the hearts of unsuspecting men. 

You were practically made for the role, Fred joked. 

You threatened to resort to method acting and grabbed at the front of his shirt with every intent to rip his heart out of his chest. Luckily for him, George came to his rescue and tore his twin from your grasp before you could inflict damage. 

“See you at the Forbidden Forest at seven sharp,” Fred called as he tossed the costume at you. “Don’t be late, Y/N!” 

At half past six, you almost considered skipping the event altogether, but that would mean owing the twins yet another favour. It was best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Sighing, you tugged on some fishnet tights and slipped into a pair of high-heeled boots that laced all the way up to your thighs. You placed a hand on your hip, frowning at your reflection in the mirror of the prefect’s bathroom. 

“Are you trying to scare the masses or seduce them?” 

You turned around to find your friend Chloe perched up against the sink, smirking as she raised a brow at you. 

“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” you said as you snatched her tube of lipstick and painted your lips with a fiery red shade. “Know any men who wouldn’t mind having their hearts ripped out?” 

She chuckled, swinging her legs in the air. “A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first. Save the curly one for me, though.” 

“You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase of yours, then?” 

Chloe smirked and blew on her freshly painted nails. “He’s got until midnight to find me.” 

“What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 

“Let’s just say that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house’s name and let him slither in.” 

“At least one of us is having fun tonight.” 

“Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.” 

You smirked in the mirror as you put on the final piece of the costume. The gold mask fit perfectly over your eyes and truly completed the sinister seductive sorceress part that Fred cast you as tonight. 

“I like the way you think.” 

The promise of mischief and chaos helped to put a little pep in your step as you and Chloe parted ways. You didn’t even recognize the Forbidden Forest as you stepped foot into the haunted woods. There were colourful tents set up all around the clearing, some containing mirrored mazes and others promised fortunes readings. The combination of red lights and creepy fog gave the demented looking carnival an eerie feel. As much as you hated to admit it, the twins have really outdone themselves tonight. 

After running through the spell that conjured a hyper realistic heart that you’d be ripping out of unsuspecting victims all night, Fred directed you towards the east side of the forest. 

“Remember, it’s not a good night unless someone’s pissed themselves out of fear,” Fred reminded you for the thousandth time. 

“You’re a sadist, Forge.” 

Fred placed a hand over his heart. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Y/N.” 

“Piss off, yeah?” 

He chuckled. “I’d tell you to act scary, but you’ve got that down pat.” Fred cocked his head, examining your costume. “Although, would it kill you to show a little more leg?” 

“It won’t kill me, but I might kill you.” 

Fortunately for Fred, George plucked his twin away from your murderous clutches to start greeting their guests. By the time it was half past seven, the clearing was full of your fellow students. Despite your initial reluctance, scaring the absolute piss out of people was actually a lot of fun. As Fred predicted, you had a natural talent for it. 

The first group that wandered into your neck of the woods consisted of your fellow housemates. Dean and Seamus led the pack while Ron and Harry followed close behind. The Chosen One was as pale as Peeves. Weasley, on the other hand, looked as though he might vomit at any moment. Leading the rear, Hermione shook her head and marched forward. Neville matched her pace as he nervously darted through the twisted roots choking up the forest floor. 

You waited until their group passed through the twisted willow tree before jumping out. Dean screamed in surprise while Seamus scrambled away from you. Thanks to Fred’s little trick, your hand went right through Finnigan’s shirt which caused him to shriek in terror. With a twisted smile, you yanked the hyper realistic heart out of his chest and cackled in delight. 

At the sight of the beating organ in your hands, Neville nearly passed out. Dean hauled Seamus to his feet while Ron and Harry hightailed it out of there. Hermione chuckled, shaking her head at the boys. 

“Well, they lasted longer than I thought they would,” she said. “Stuck out here for the night, Y/N?” 

“Unfortunately,” you replied as you vanished the dry blood with a quick spell. “Anyone you want me to scare the absolute wits out of tonight, Mione?” 

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I don’t have any scores to settle.” You nodded, wishing her a good rest of the night. 

Hermione bid you the same and started to follow the direction that the boys fled to. Before she disappeared through the thicket, a familiar, drawling voice called her back. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the golden girl.” 

Draco Malfoy appeared in the clearing. There was skull makeup on his face, but the shock of platinum blonde hair gave away his identity almost instantly. He stalked towards Hermione with that arrogant aristocratic smirk, completely oblivious that you were lurking in the dark. 

“All alone in the woods, little lion?”

Hermione’s gaze flickered towards you. A smile curved against her lips as her honey eyes glimmered with mischief. “On second thought…” 

The golden girl hadn’t even finished the rest of her sentence before you yanked Draco by the wrist and pushed him up against the weeping willow. The blonde blinked, his silver eyes full of surprise and terror as you raked your nails along the column of his throat. The red varnish looked like blood against his pale skin.

“All alone in the woods, little serpent?” 

Draco steeled himself. “And who are you supposed to be?” 

You smirked. “I’ll be whoever you want, darling.” Malfoy shivered as you pressed a palm against his chest. He leaned into your touch, his heart beating erratically underneath your fingertips. For Godric’s sake, he was truly making this way too easy. “As long as you give me your heart.” 

Never in his life had Draco Malfoy looked so terrified. The colour drained from his face as you reached through his perfectly tailored button down shirt, fingers slipping through the expensive silk material. You laughed maniacally and caressed his cheek. 

“Brace yourself, sweetheart. This might hurt a bit.” 

Without warning, you yanked his heart out of his chest. Draco stared in utter horror as blood dripped from your fingertips. The tell-tale heart pounded in your palm,  the mess of flesh and tissue covering your arm with carnage. To Malfoy’s credit, he didn’t scream or flee like your housemates. Instead, the Slytherin appeared rather impressed. 

“The spell work’s not bad.” Draco said with a smirk. He lifted your palm and examined the heart. “A word of advice, though. I would’ve turned the heart black. It would’ve been more realistic.” 

Just as you rolled your eyes, a deep, husky voice pulled your attention away from the blonde. 

“Who even knew Draco Malfoy had a heart?” 

You turned to find a gathering of serpents in the clearing. They were all wearing matching skull makeup, but you could clearly tell who each male was. The gang of Slytherins were pretty infamous and easily recognizable. The curly headed one had to be Mattheo Riddle. His gaze darted through the trees as though he expected someone to appear out of the thick fog. You had to hand it to her, Chloe had the Slytherin eating right out of her hand. 

The one beside him stood a little bit taller and though his face was smeared in the same white and black paint, there was no mistaking Enzo Berkshire’s lopsided grin and soft hazel eyes. Flanking either side of him was Blaize Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, the it-couple of your year, which only left one other serpent to account for. The male that had spoken earlier had to be none other than Theodore Nott. 

You turned your attention back to him, squinting in the faint light as he prowled towards you. Theodore was considerably taller than the rest of his friends, but not in the awkward scrawny way that most boys his age were. He was slim yet strong, sculpted by years of playing quidditch. The makeup only accentuated his high cheekbones and his ridiculously sharp jawline, but it was his eyes—those dead, cold eyes that had half the school swooning over him that gave you pause. 

Theodore grinned as you released your hold on Draco. He cocked his head, arrogance and swagger radiating off of him in waves as his eyes roamed your body. There was something unsettling about his gaze—Theodore’s eyes were neither green nor blue, but rather some undiscovered shade that reminded you of watercolours bleeding into each other. 

The manner in which he ogled you was shameless. He drank in your tight corset, the fishnet tights, and the thigh high boots like you were a painting on the walls of a gallery, pinned up for his viewing pleasure. You held your head high, completely undeterred by his stare. Besides, two could play that game. 

You schooled your features into indifference. “Who are you supposed to be? The Pumpkin King?” 

Theodore flashed you a charming smile that you had no doubt made the rest of the student population swoon. “I’ll be your Jack if you agree to be my Sally, sweetheart.” 

As slowly as possible, you dragged your gaze from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Theodore smirked as you surveyed him just as he had done to you a few moments ago. Staying true to his Slytherin roots, Theodore wore a black suit and matching freshly pressed trousers, but the silk shirt underneath was maroon—Gryffindor colours. Your house colours. 

“Brave of you to wear rival colours.” 

“I thought you’d be happy,” Theodore drawled. “Better to hide the blood when you rip my heart out, darling.” 

“You think I care about making a mess?” you said with a smirk. “That’s half of the fun.” 

Theodore flashed you a smile that spelled nothing but trouble. “Oh, I think you’re just my kind of witch.” 

“Oi, Notty boy! If you’re done flirting, we’re heading to the mirror maze.”

Blaise was regarded with a wave of dismissal. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 

Hermione lingered by the edge of the clearing. She raised a brow in a silent question. You merely shrugged. Theodore Nott wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. 

“Give Longbottom my apologies, Mione. And a calming draught,” you added as an afterthought. “The poor bloke will need it.”

Your friend smiled. “Sure thing. Shall I tell the twins that you’re…indisposed?” 

“No, let my wardens sweat it out a bit.”

Hermione chuckled and waved you off. The rest of the Slytherins followed shortly after, leaving you alone with Theodore. You locked eyes for a moment before you spun on your heel and walked off in the opposite direction. The brunette stared after you in stunned silence before you looked over your shoulder and smirked at him. 

“Well, are you coming or not, Theodore?” 

The sounds of the leaves crunching below his boots indicated that Theodore had snapped out of his stupor and was catching up to you. He did so rather quickly, thanks to those long legs of his. One of his strides was equal to three of yours. It took little to no effort on his part before the two of you were walking side by side. 

“You know who I am, then?”

You shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell you and your cronies apart.” 

Theodore grinned lazily and cocked his head at you. He squinted against the faint light, no doubt trying to ascertain a hint of your identity from underneath the gold mask. 

“It hardly seems fair. You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are.”

You smirked at him. “I’m Sally, remember?” 

“Does that mean I’m your Jack?” 

“For the night, at least.”

He seemed content with that answer. “Where are we headed now, little witch?”

“The Graveyard.”

Theodore appeared slightly baffled, but brooked no argument as you led him through a thicket of trees. You chuckled at the sight of him following you blindly. “A strange girl just told you she was leading you to a graveyard and you didn’t even bat an eyelash. I thought you Slytherins were all about self-preservation?”

“I have no intention of preserving myself tonight,” Theodore drawled. “Feel free to ruin me, Sally.”

“I suppose you think you’re rather charming, don’t you Jack?”

“I don’t think, darling. I know.” 

You rolled your eyes and walked toward the lone tombstone in between the weeping willows. Theodore watched as you waved your wand and muttered an incantation. The ground rumbled beneath your feet, clearing the leaves until an ominous set of stairs appeared in front of the grave. 

Theodore peered over your shoulder. “I suppose you won’t be telling me what’s down there, will you Sally?” 

“Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll hold your hand in case you get scared.” 

It was meant to be a joke, but Theodore took the jest to heart and slipped his hand into yours. You smirked as you intertwined your fingers. If he thought a little hand holding would bother you, then Theodore had no idea what he was in for tonight. 

“Lead the way, love.”

You led him down the steps, plunging into darkness the lower you went. Theodore took the opportunity to press up behind you and kept a hand on your waist as the two of you descended. He was so close that the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke assaulted your senses.  

A red hazy light flashed up ahead. The pounding music and excited chatter of your fellow classmates grew louder as you and Theodore were transported into the speakeasy. The bar was stocked with alcohol, shots and cocktails floating mid-air with themed drinks like Merlin’s Mourge-a-rita, Witches’ Brew, and Cauldron Colada. You hailed Parvati down who was apparently serving as the bartender tonight along with her twin sister. 

“We’ll take two El Diablos.” 

Theodore raised a brow, but didn’t protest as Parvati presented the shots in front of you. Your fellow housemate also floated a salt shaker and a bowl of limes on the counter. You sprinkled salt on the back of your hand and grabbed a lime wedge in preparation. Theodore did the same, minus the lime. 

“Bottoms up, Jack.” 

“Cheers, Sally.”

After licking the salt off of your hand, you clinked your glass against Theodore’s and knocked the drink back. The El Diablo certainly lived up to its name. The drink was a combination of tequila mixed with pepperup potion and topped off with a hint of cayenne. Needless to say, it had a bit of a kick. 

With a slight grimace, you bit down on the lime, which helped with the unpleasant aftertaste. Theodore caught your wrist and held your gaze as he directed your hand up to his mouth. He mimicked your move and sucked hard on the lime, his lips brushing your fingers as he licked the juice from where it had dribbled onto your palm. 

A shiver snaked down your spine. You may be a shameless flirt, but Theodore was definitely matching your energy. 

“I can’t believe the twins built a speakeasy down here,” Theodore said. He leaned in close so you could hear him over the music. “I’m almost impressed.” 

“I’ll tell my wardens you said that.” 

“You keep calling them that,” Theodore said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You wouldn’t mean that one of the weasels is your ball and chain in a literal sense, right?”

“Are you jealous, Jack?” 

He smirked. “I just want to know which twin I’m sending to the infirmary tonight.”

You chuckled. “I’m not dating Fred or George. I just owe them a favour. Speaking of which, I’ve got some men to scare. Be a good boy and wait for me here.”

Theodore shook his head. “Oh, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m yours for the night, remember?” He toyed with the laces on your corset and pulled you towards him, your breasts pressing against the hard muscles of his chest. “I have a proposition for you, little witch.”

You quirked a brow, which made Theodore chuckle darkly. “Not that kind of proposition, principessa.” He twirled the lace between his fingers. “I say we terrorise the student body together.” 

“You want to help me do my job?”

Theodore shrugged. “Why not? We can be partners in crime.” 

You cocked your head. It certainly would be more fun to have someone else partake in your chore. Curling your fingers around his maroon tie, you pulled Theodore down to your level. His gaze flickered to your mouth and you couldn’t help the thrill that buzzed in your veins as you watched him swallow thickly. 

“You’ve got a deal, Jack.” 

As it turns out, Theodore was an excellent partner in crime. The two of you concocted a rather effective formula to inflict fear upon your classmates. The Red Room soon became your hunting grounds. In the creepy blood soaked maze, Theodore chased groups through the enchanted room while you lurked in the shadows. As soon as they thought they were safe from skull face, the groups were then led right into your trap. 

You could hardly count the amount of people you scared shitless tonight. 

Eventually the two of you returned to the bar for more drinks. You ordered another round of shots, which Theodore accepted without question. By the time you were six shots deep, the tequila had annihilated any sense of personal space between you. Theodore leaned down to take a sip of your drink. 

“Trying to get me drunk, love?”

“That depends,” you quipped back. “How many drinks do I need to plie you with until you agree to dance?” 

“With you? I’d say yes while stone cold sober.”

You grinned. “Come on, then.”

Theodore allowed you to guide him away from the bar and into the throng of your fellow classmates. It was total debauchery out on the dance floor. The music pulsed seductively as bodies writhed to the hypnotic beat and the red light bathed the crowd in a sinister glow as the alcohol loosened both limbs and lips. 

The warmth of the tequila made you feel flushed, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Theodore’s hands on your waist. With your back pressed against his chest, you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. You rocked side to side and grinded against him, which caused his grip to tighten. Theodore’s fingers dug into your sides as you wrapped an arm around his neck and arched your back against his chest. 

His dark lashes fluttered as your lips brushed against the column of his throat. Theodore shuddered when you nipped at his skin. A low groan escaped his mouth as he tried to chase your lips, but you dropped low to the floor and left him in a daze. 

Theodore caught your wrist and pressed you flush against him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s not polite to tease?’ 

“Do I look like someone who gives a shit about being polite?” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You should know that I have a terrible habit of playing with my food.” 

Theodore smirked and fisted your hair between his fingers. “And you should know that I have no qualms about being toyed with. As long as you promise to devour me later, little witch.”

You brushed up against him and felt his hardness rub against you. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I’ll get my taste of you tonight.” He inhaled sharply as you tugged him down to you. His eyes fluttered, fully expecting a kiss. “But before that, would you be a dear and get me another drink? I’m absolutely parched.”

A pained expression dawned on his handsome features. Theodore was fully aware of the little cat and mouse game you were playing, but he seemed keen to play along. If only to please you. 

“You’re killing me, bella,” Theodore said with a sigh. He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, a promise of what was to come. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, yeah?” 

“Don’t take too long,” you said with a wink. “I might get impatient.”

With that, Theodore hustled back to the bar. You chuckled at the sight. Your amusement only grew as Chloe approached. As soon as she was within reach, you tugged your friend onto the dancefloor. She happily obliged, the moves flowing naturally. The two of you were known to bring the whole house down at countless parties. 

“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?” 

“No, but he’s close.” Chloe shouted over the music, motioning to the bar where her boyfriend was currently standing. Mattheo, Theo, and Draco were talking in hushed whispers, looking rather serious. 

“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.”

The poor Slytherin was chasing after some unsuspecting blonde girl who looked a lot like Chloe from behind. A mischievous grin curved against her lips as she watched Theodore weave his way back to you, toting a drink in each hand. 

“Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” you replied with a coy smile. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”

“My lips are sealed.” 

With a wink, Chloe slipped away just as Theodore returned. He handed you a drink and watched as you sipped it slowly. Theodore downed his cocktail in less than a minute and tossed his cup into the nearest trash can. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” 

“You promised a taste.” 

You smirked, chugging the rest of your drink and wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Theodore watched intently as you set the empty cup down. “Come and get it, then.”

The words had barely left your lips before Theodore kissed you. There wasn’t a hint of timidness in the way that his lips crashed against yours, a soft moan escaping his mouth as he tilted your chin up to gently bite down on your lower lip. You gasped when he nipped at you, leaving your mouth open for his tongue to slide into. 

The taste of him was intoxicating as he massaged your tongue against his, licking the roof of your mouth before he kissed you sloppily, open-mouthed and positively obscene despite the crowd dancing around you. What started out as a kiss turned into a full blown make out session in the middle of the dance floor. Neither one of you felt a hint of shame as you shared another filthy kiss. With a groan, Theodore’s hands roamed along your back and squeezed when he reached your ass. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

You smirked, already equipped with a salacious response when your gaze caught on the clock behind the bar. It was nearly midnight and the twins had instructed all the actors and actresses to gather in the main entrance for the grand finale. Fred and George would have a fit if they found out you had abandoned your post. The twats would probably demand another favour out of you. There was no way you were going to shackle yourself to the Weasleys a second time. 

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath. “It’s almost midnight. I have to get back.”

“I thought you were my Sally,” Theodore drawled. He looked slightly dazed, his curly hair dishevelled and his lips swollen from your kisses. “Not Cinderella.”

“I’m being serious, Nott. If I’m not back before the clock strikes twelve, I’ll have to owe the twins another favour.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in time. Besides, if we’re playing into this whole Cinderella fantasy then let’s skip to the good part and see if it fits and by it I mean me inside of you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you knew it, you were dragging Theodore out of the speakeasy. The two of you climbed the steps three at a time, nearly tumbling over one another as you raced up the stairs. The woods were dark and foreboding, but provided plenty of cover for your illicit activities. 

You tugged Theodore along by his tie and he pressed you against an oak tree, the bark biting at your exposed skin. You were kissing again in no time and the sounds the two of you made were downright lewd. Theodore reached for your mask, but you swatted his hand away. 

“The mask stays on.” 

He smirked. “I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder, but you seem to be an overachiever.”

“I aim to please.” 

Theodore smirked against your neck as he hiked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hand wandered underneath your skirt and those deft fingers of his teased along your soaked core. 

“You’re so fucking wet, little witch.” You groaned as he plunged his fingers between your folds. “Such a pretty cunt too. Will you clench this tightly around my cock when I fuck you?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” you whispered huskily. 

A stream of curses fell from Theodore’s lips, but not in a language that you understood. Italian, perhaps. Whatever it was, it sounded sexy as hell. You unbuckled his belt and slipped your hand into his trousers, feeling his hard length twitch in response. A choked groan rumbled through his chest as you pumped him between your fingers. 

You swallowed thickly. Theodore was long and hard, his cock almost too big to fit inside of you. But you always did like a challenge. 

Those watercolour eyes that had been pinned on you all night turned positively dark. The strange blue and green shade that you had grown familiar with was now swallowed by darkness, leaving Theodore with a gaze that would’ve rivalled Medusa’s. You felt it searing into your skin as you sank down on his length, biting your lip as he stretched your walls. 

“Merda,” Theodore cursed. “So fucking tight. C’mon pretty girl, that’s it. I know you can take all of me.” 

You shuddered a breath as he pushed inside. Theodore watched with hungry eyes as you took him inch by inch. It seemed never ending. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. The stretch was an equal measure of pain and pleasure. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock and your pussy hugged around him as he throbbed inside of you. 

Theodore caressed your cheek. “It’s alright, little witch. I know you can take it. I’m yours, remember? Your partner-in-crime. So use me, dolcezza. You’re in charge tonight. Just set the pace and I’ll follow.”

The reassuring words encouraged you to slowly grind against him. Theodore hissed as you lifted your hips until only his tip was inside of you. His mouth was hot and needy against yours as you grinded down to take all of him again.

“Che cazzo,” Theodore murmured as he bottomed out.

The drag of his cock was delicious. He filled you to the hilt and pressed his hand on your stomach to feel his length buried deep inside of you. The tightness it caused made the both of you groan. You rolled your hips and set a steady pace, lowering onto his cock over and over again while you whimpered.

“Oh, fuck. It feels like you’re splitting me apart.”

Theodore groaned as he sucked and nipped at your neck. The heat of his tongue was everywhere, leaving marks on your skin in his wake. It would be a pain in the ass to cover, but you didn’t care as you continued to ride him.

“Salazar fucking save me, your pussy feels like heaven.”

Theodore chuckled darkly as you clenched around him. He untied the laces of your corset impatiently, freeing your breasts from the constraints. Theodore brushed his thumb over your hard nipples before taking one into his mouth. He watched with eager eyes as you moaned, sucking and swirling his tongue while you picked up the pace. 

“You look so pretty when you fuck me,” Theodore hummed as he flicked his tongue against your stiffened peaks. “Ride me harder, little witch. That’s it. Yeah, roll your hips just like that. Good girl.”

“Gods, I didn’t expect you to have such a filthy mouth,” you said with a low laugh. “You’re always so quiet in class.”

“So we have a class together,” Theodore said as he thrusted upwards to match your pace. “I thought you sounded familiar.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite grasp it. I guess I’ll just have to pay extra attention to all the Gryffindor girls in my classes.”

“I’m a Gryffindor? How do you figure that?”

“Besides your entire personality? You seemed friendly with Granger and though you complain about the twins, I’d wager that you’re mates as well.” 

“Smart and handsome,” you said with a smirk.  “You’re full of surprises aren’t you, Jack?” 

Theodore smirked and thrusted sharply inside of you. “You have no idea, Sally.”

“I thought I was in charge tonight,” you said in a stern voice. 

“You are, but I think you could use a little encouragement. You’re holding back.” 

You circled your hips before lifting them and slamming back down. Theodore’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

“Does it feel like I’m holding back?” 

“I’m a patient man, but if you keep toying with me like this I might just have to fuck that attitude right out of you, little witch.” 

You tilted your chin up and smirked. “So do it.” 

All that bravado left your body as Theodore rutted into you. He drove his cock deep within you, stretching your walls until you were clawing at his back. Theodore grunted as you squelched and squeezed around his length. His pace was relentless and punishing, guiding your hips to bounce on his cock while you moaned in pleasure. 

“Oh gods, right there.” You cried out, burying your face into his neck. 

You inhaled his scent greedily and sank your teeth into his flesh. Theodore slowed his pace and chuckled darkly when you whined. 

“What’s the matter, little witch? Can’t take a dose of your own medicine?” 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. “Keep going. I’m so close.” 

“Beg me, darling. Tell me how desperate you are. I want to hear those pretty little words.” 

Theodore halted his movements, his tip barely inside of you as he teased along your folds. He held your hips in place so you couldn’t sink down to take more of him. Usually, you were used to taking charge, but the way he put you in your place had you creaming all over him. Needless to say, you weren’t above begging at this point. 

“Please, I need you. Fuck me harder. Give me everything. I can take it. Every fucking inch.”

“Merda, you’re fucking filthy. Begging for my cock like a good little slut. Brace yourself, bella. Remember that you asked for this.”

A whimper fell from your lips as Theodore bucked into your cunt. His cock impaled you, splitting you apart and knocking the very breath from your lungs as he fucked you roughly against the tree. He squeezed your ass, keeping a firm grip to secure you in place as he jackknifed into you. 

“Oh gods,” you sobbed, raking your nails underneath his shirt and dragging red lines all along his back. Theodore hissed as you clawed at him, thrusting so hard that your teeth rattled every time he drove into you. “Fuck, it’s too much.” 

Theodore grabbed your chin harshly. “No, it’s not. You begged to be fucked, now take my cock like the perfect little whore I know that you are, yeah?”

You nodded. Words escaped you at the moment. The filth coming out of Theodore’s mouth aroused you in more ways than one. Who knew that the silent Slytherin fucked like a god?

A stray tear rolled down your cheek. Theodore licked it away and chuckled as you whimpered. “Are you crying, sweetheart? Such pretty little sobs. Don’t worry, you’ll get your reward. You’ve been such a good girl for me and good girls get to cum.”

At that, Theodore rubbed your clit and pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic against your sensitive bundle of nerves and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around him, making his hips stutter as the orgasm blindsided you. A scream echoed through the woods and it was only when Theodore covered your mouth when you realised that the sound had come from you. 

“Fuck,” Theodore cursed, dropping his forehead to yours. “Merda, I’m not gonna last much longer. Not when that pretty pussy of yours is milking me dry. Oh gods, I’m gonna cum—“

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist as his body seized underneath you. Theodore bit into your flesh as he came, leaving a bruised purple mark on your collarbone. You had never seen anyone look as beautiful as he did when he lost control, lips parted, cheeks flushed, devil eyes rolling back as the orgasm thoroughly rocked him. 

The stillness that settled over the Forbidden Forest was almost eerie. The two of you looked at one another, dazed and confused as though you weren’t even sure who or where you were at the moment. Through all your romps, no one has ever put your body to the test like Theodore has. You could tell by his intense gaze that he likely felt the same. 

Theodore set you down gently. Compared to how rough he was a few moments ago, the contrast almost made you laugh. You heard the chime of the clock echo a beat later. 

Fuck. That only gave you a minute to sprint through the woods and make it back in time before the twins reached your clearing. You frantically re-tied your corset and straightened the skirts of your dress. Theodore was busy buckling his belt. 

“I have to go,” you said as you shrugged your robe back on. “I’ll see you around, Jack.”

“Wait, you never told me your name!” 

But Theodore was too late. You were already gone by the time he looked up. He sighed and started making his way back to the festivities. The last chime of the clock indicated that it was midnight. He could only hope that you’d gotten back in time. 

Theodore paused as something crunched underneath his feet. He peered down at the forest floor and found something golden peeking out amongst the leaves. With a smile, he picked up the golden mask. 

It looks like his mystery girl left him a clue after all. 

Theodore would find his Sally. 

He’d make sure of it. 

Theodore couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited to attend class. 

After the All Hallow’s Eve party, he’d done everything he could to dig up information on his mystery girl. Theodore had even gone as far as to interrogate the Weasley twins, but as usual, the redheaded menaces were unnecessarily difficult about it. 

“Sorry, mate, but we don’t reveal the identity of our actors and actresses,” George said with a shit-eating grin. 

Fred nodded in agreement. “Confidentiality and all that. We wouldn’t want to go around spilling trade secrets. It’s bad for business.”

The weasels stayed mum even after Theodore offered them a ridiculous amount of money to reveal his mystery girl’s identity. Unfortunately, his desperation only served to intrigue the twins and the sadistic little gits seemed to derive pleasure in seeing Theodore grow more and more frustrated. 

“Best of luck to you, Nott,” Fred said with a little smile. “If you do end up finding her, you’ll need all the fortune you can get. She’s a feisty thing, that one.” 

“I know,” Theodore said with a glare. “That’s exactly why I want to find her.”

George chuckled. “Godric bless your heart.”

If the twats weren’t his main weed suppliers, Theodore would’ve punched their teeth in. Despite Fred and George’s general uselessness, he was in a good mood when Monday rolled around. Equipped with the knowledge that his mystery girl was in one of his classes, he made sure to pay extra attention to every Gryffindor girl. It was only a matter of time before he found her. 

“You’re smiling,” Enzo commented as he caught up to Theodore in the courtyard. “What’s happened? Did my cousin fall down the moving stairs again?”

Theodore snorted. “Even better, Berkshire. I’m going to find my mystery girl today and you’re going to help me.”

“How?” 

“You’re friends with literally everyone. Someone has to know who she is.”

“Hmm, come to think of it Mattheo’s girlfriend is good friends with a lot of the Gryffindor girls. I bet she’d know who it is.” 

“Good, let’s start there. Where is Chloe anyways?” 

“Probably in the Great Hall with Mattheo.”

The two of them headed over to where the rest of the castle was currently having breakfast. Enzo made a beeline for their usual table where Mattheo, Blaise, and Draco were seated, but Thedore didn’t follow. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Chloe seated with a girl who looked vaguely familiar to him. Theodore was sure that you had Charms together. More than that, you were wearing a red and gold tie. A Gryffindor. 

Theodore inched closer, skirting around the edges to listen in on the conversation. 

“How was your weekend?” 

Theodore froze. He knew that voice. It was husky and seductive and sounded exactly like how his mystery girl had when she’d whispered in his ear. 

It was you. 

It had to be. 

“It was good,” Chloe responded with a grin. “Really good.” 

“Mattheo found you after all, then?” 

“He did and suffice to say he liked the second part of my costume more than the first.” 

You laughed in response. Chloe leaned in and lowered her voice. “What about you? You disappeared from the speakeasy, so I’m assuming I’m not the only one who had an eventful night.”

“It was fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

You flushed, biting your bottom lip. “It was the best lay of my life.” 

Theodore smirked. So it wasn’t just him, then. The sex had truly been something else entirely. He had been confident that you must’ve felt the same way in the moment, but doubt crept in since you’d run off so abruptly. Now he had confirmation and it was satisfying as hell to hear you say it. 

“There you are,” Enzo said from behind him. “I brought Mattheo, so we can ask Chloe about your mystery girl.”

“That little witch of yours really put a spell on you, huh, Nott?” Mattheo teased. “Let’s go, then. Maybe my girl can help.”

Chloe looked up and smiled as Mattheo leaned down to kiss her. You glanced up at the exact moment that Theodore came into view. He clocked the way your cheeks flushed as your gaze landed on him.

“You know my boyfriend,” Chloe said. You nodded at Mattheo who shot you a polite smile back. “That’s Enzo and Theo. Boys, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet the boys.” 

Theodore took your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “Hello, Sally.” 

You smiled back in return. “Hello, Jack.”

Chloe’s eyes widened, immediately taking stock of the situation. Mattheo and Enzo were slower to catch on, but luckily she ushered the boys away. 

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” 

You tried not to laugh as Chloe winked behind Theodore’s back. 

“I found you.” 

“So it seems.” 

“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore,” he said as he pulled out the golden mask from his backpack. Theodore’s intense gaze swept over you, cataloguing your features. 

“You kept it,” you said with a small smile. 

“I would’ve returned it sooner if you hadn’t left in such a haste after we—“

“Fucked in the woods?” 

You were amused to find Theodore blushing. “I was going to say hooked up, but I suppose that’s another way to put it. Anyways, you left in such a hurry. You didn’t even give me your name.”

“Didn’t really think you wanted me to stay.”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t been about to think about anything else since that night. You’ve taken over my thoughts. It’s fucking maddening.” Theodore caressed your cheek and tilted your chin so he could look at you better. “My mystery girl. You’re more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” 

“Well, you have the real thing now. It’s your move, Jack.”

Theodore shook his head. “No, not Jack. Theo. That’s the name you’ll be screaming from now on. After I take you out on a proper date.”

You raised a brow. “What makes you think I’ll say yes?”

The devilish grin on his face sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really going to turn down the best lay of your life?” Your eyes widened, which made him smile even wider. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who can sneak up on people. So, what do you say?” 

“Pick me up at eight. Don’t be late, Theo.” 

Theodore winked. “It’s a date, Y/N.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar

#i am going to faint look at pookie he could chase me around the woods and i'd fold #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott imagine #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

[teenytinyjimin]

baroque (j. jungkook)

summary: masquerade balls are all fun and games until you meet that one person that you feel like you’ve known for a lifetime, but regardless as to who he is, you can’t just let him go.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.4k

tags: masquerade, mystery, academia/renaissance/baroque (i know these are all different but its a little combination), ballroom dancing, reader is absolutely in love with this mystery man she’s dancing with, and he’s kinda in love with her too, spoiler: they know each other, kissing of course!

warnings: none

author’s note: IM BACK! IM SO SORRY BUT IM BACK! anyways i hope u guys enjoy! my last kook fic got a lot of traction so thank u so much <3 so i hope this is up to par with that one :)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

As you stood at the steps to the entrance of one of the largest ballrooms in town, you took a deep sigh. This wasn't a sigh of distress, however, it was more of a sigh of anticipation.

Balls weren't necessarily a thing of the 21st century. Had it been, say, four-hundred or five-hundred years prior, a ball would be the talk of the town and absolutely everyone would be flooding into the ballroom to have the time of their lives dancing with one another. Alas, it was 2024, and the only people you'd see attending a ball nowadays would be people who are actively interested in Renaissance and Baroque culture and seek rare events pertaining to such.

There was something about these classical time periods that felt ageless and beautiful to you. The big gowns, glimmering jewels, and elaborate ballroom designs were absolutely gorgeous. So of course you were going to indulge in as much classical beauty as possible in modern times. And that meant going to balls whenever you could (or, in other words, whenever you were able to hear about them through the grapevine).

So here you were, in your elaborate Renaissance dress, staring at the entrance ahead of you. This particular ball was a masquerade ball, so it was even more exciting considering the fact that most everyone would be anonymously dancing behind beautifully decorated masks. You looked down at your own mask in hand, a beautiful and ornate piece strewn with jewels, glitter, and feathers. You had spent the last week perfecting the mask and had gone through nearly a dozen prototypes before you created what you thought was the best piece of work you had ever done in your twenty-something years of living. It was beautiful, and it would do a perfect job of hiding exactly what needed to be hidden to make this masquerade a true mystery for you.

Fastening the mask over your head and onto your face, you began to ascend the steps and enter the ballroom. As anticipated, the venue was covered in beautiful Renaissance artwork and ornate chandeliers. The marble pillars holding the place together really brought everything to life as they echoed the Roman influence that they possessed into the large room. Ahead of you was a sea of elaborate gowns and tuxedos, all spinning around in harmony as they danced with one another to the beautiful orchestral music that played.

"A glass of champagne, miss?" A voice called out from next to you. You looked over to see a masked waiter with a tray of champagne flutes in his hand. You gave him a polite nod and curtsy as you took a glass from him. Champagne wasn't necessarily your drink of choice, however you needed something to keep you company while you waited for a good opportunity to join the dancing or, alternatively, until you were asked to dance.

As you approached the floor of the ball, navigating through the sea of dancing people, you attempted to find someone you may have recognized. Sure, masquerades made it rather difficult to identify a person and thus it was quite hard to know if you knew anyone anyway, but it was worth a shot for the sake of socializing. For the most part, everyone seemed pretty invested in their partners, committing to the elaborate ballroom dance that was taking place to the sound of a piano and violin.

Within a matter of moments, you suddenly found yourself on the ground as you had accidentally run directly into another individual. You looked up to see a gloved hand reach down to you, begging for your touch so that it could help you to your feet once again. As you obliged, you realized the body to which the hand was connected was much stronger than you had anticipated as you practically flew back to your feet. A little lightheaded from the rush of movement, you swayed for a moment and tried to find your footing, but the hand that previously helped you was now firmly on your waist as a form of support.

You brushed off your dress once you found yourself more stable, a bright red blush creeping to your cheeks. "I'm so sorry-" You began before looking up to the person in front of you. Something about his presence left you fascinated – He was tall with wide shoulders and toned arms, something you could immediately notice through his tight-fitting shirt. Despite being fit to his body, his shirt was beautiful and contained all sorts of frills and jewels. Only one of his hands were gloved, as the other one was covered in bracelets and rings of a particularly ornate design. He had the most beautiful chain necklaces wrapped around his neck which perfectly suited his beautiful jawline, which was both sharp and soft at the same time. His lips, a perfect amount of plump, were curled into a soft smile which made him a lot less intimidating than he seemed. When you finally saw his eyes, you were met with the most beautiful black orbs that were wide with wonder and amazement. You could've sworn that you've seen those eyes somewhere, as they reminded you of all the comfort you had ever felt in your life, but you couldn't quite put them to a face you recognized. Though this man's face was hidden behind a beautiful mask, you could tell that he was breathtaking in every sense of the word.

"Are you okay?" He asked, maintaining eye contact with you. There was no way you were going to escape his gaze, not because he wouldn't let you but also because you didn't want to. You nodded softly as you continued awkwardly brushing off your dress, unsure of how to speak to the man in front of you. The soft smile that was once on his face now grew to a more toothy grin as he took your hand in his and gently pressed your knuckles to his lips. "If you'd like to make it up to me, I'd love to dance with you."

How were you meant to say no to him? Besides the fact that he had quite literally left you speechless, everything about him was absolutely gorgeous and you'd never turn down an offer to dance with someone like him. As you once again responded with a nod, you felt as he used the hand he had wrapped around your waist to guide you further into the crowd of people and to a more open area where you could properly dance. Once there, he pulled you slightly closer to him as he took your hand in his free one. You naturally placed your other hand upon his bicep, which was tense under your touch, and he began to guide you into a waltz-style dance. It felt as if this came naturally to him as you effortlessly swayed around. You continued to stare into his beautiful doe eyes which shimmered with fantasy as they quite literally pierced into your soul. Whoever this man was, he was perfect in every sense of the word. He was just so perfect.

"You look absolutely stunning, by the way. I'm not sure if I mentioned that," He said after a moment, causing you to blush and look away. "I could say the same about you," You responded quietly, letting yourself feel the air around you blow through your hair. "Thank you for helping me up, by the way. This dress is difficult to maneuver in when you're on the ground."

"It's my pleasure. After all, we bumped into each other. I had an obligation. I wasn't going to let a beautiful girl fend for herself on the ground as a bunch of people danced all over her." You looked back over to him and let out a soft giggle, watching as a grin rose to his face. Something about him was just so warm and inviting, yet you couldn't put your finger on what it was. Perhaps you two knew each other in a past life, one in which you were actually attending balls together in the Renaissance.

"I bet you call a lot of girls at these sorts of things beautiful. I mean, look at you." You say in a teasing tone, watching as his grin dropped to a smirk. "Bold of you to assume that I go to these dances very often, miss." He lets out a soft sigh as he continues to effortlessly sway you around, refusing to stop staring at you. "But even if I did, you're the most breathtaking of them all. Honest."

You remove your hand from his as you bring both hands to rest on the back of his neck, attempting to push yourself closer to him so you can talk a little quieter. "You seem like a pro, do you really not go to balls very often?" He shrugs under your touch as he wraps both arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "Not really. This is my first time coming to this place at least. I'm more of a contemporary dancer."

"Ah, I see," You say softly, letting one of your hands feel at the hair on the back of his neck. He lets out a hitched breath at your touch but continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "It's a beautiful venue, though. It feels like we're in the 1700s and not the 2000s." He comments, looking up briefly at the chandelier above the two of you. You couldn't help but agree. Sometimes when you go to events like these you forget about the chaos of life and pretend that you're still in the Renaissance, which is beautiful in and of itself.

"Have you been on the balcony yet? It has a beautiful view of the city if you want to go take a look," You propose, looking back down at the man in your arms. You watch as his eyes soften and a small smile grows on his lips, pulling away so he can offer you his hand. "You lead the way," He says as you take your hand in his and gently pull him away from the crowd.

As soon as you reached the fresh air of the empty balcony, the two of you stood in silence as you admired the shimmering lights of the city in front of you. "Wow..." He muttered, clearly surprised at the sight in front of him. "You can see pretty much everything from here. How is that possible?" You approach the railing of the balcony and lean against it, taking a moment to look around. "The ballroom is on a hill, even though it doesn't really feel like it. It's actually above the rest of the town so the balcony is able to look down on everything around us."

"I hate to say it, but it seems like I might have found something more beautiful than you." Letting out a small gasp, you turn around to face the man behind you, noticing a huge grin on his face. You smile in return. "I guess I don't blame you. A good view beats a pretty face any day."

"Mmm." He hums, approaching you slowly. He secures his hands on your waist as he picks you up with ease and places you on the railing, keeping contact with you at all times to ensure that you don't fall. Once you are steady on the railing he wraps both arms around you and presses himself tightly to you for extra support, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to stay safe. "I'm only joking anyway. I don't think it's possible to be more beautiful than you."

"Well, I think you're living proof of that, because you're definitely more beautiful than me," You mumble as the distance between your faces becomes much shorter than it once was. He lets out a breathy laugh as he removes one of his arms from your waist and attaches his hand to your face, stroking it gently before closing the gap completely and bringing you in for a kiss.

Kissing someone under the stars is one thing, but kissing someone mysteriously under the stars is another thing. You have no idea who this man is, you don't even know his name, yet here you are, lips connected to his. This is perhaps the best kiss you have ever experienced, as he is so soft yet so passionate with his movements. He never once lets go of you with his other hand, keeping you secure on the railing so that you don't accidentally slip. The one on your face is so soft and gentle, holding onto your face in the most perfect way. It is only now that you are able to really breathe in his scent, an obviously expensive cologne that you would kill to drown in at this point. He was consuming every part of you and you wanted him and only him.

The two of you pulled away briefly so that he could stare into your eyes for a moment. "You really are breathtaking," He mumbled, fiddling with the bottom edge of your mask. As he began to slowly pull it off of your face, you watched as his expression went from lovestruck to shocked. It looked as if seeing your face without the mask scared him. He didn't like how you looked.

"I'm sorry-" You begin to say, tears welling up in your eyes. However he stops you as he takes his own mask off, revealing a face that you could never forget. Jeon Jungkook. Your childhood best friend. The boy you had a crush on for years several years ago. He wasn't disgusted by how you looked. He was shocked that it was you.

"Jungkook?" You said breathlessly, unable to say anything beyond his name. He only stared at you in response, unsure of what his own next move would be. This wasn't something you had ever expected. Not the whole 'kissing your childhood best friend' part, but the fact that somehow in an event of anonymity, you would find your way to each other. And now that you have shared this night together, it's almost as if all the feelings you ever felt for him over the years have flooded back to you as you once again felt head-over-heels for him.

Finally, you watched as a toothy smile returned to his face. He placed his hand once again on your cheek and brushed it as you watched him admire your features. "Thank god it's you. I've been waiting for this moment for years," He mumbled before pulling you in again for another kiss.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts jungkook #bts jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #jk fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jk fanfiction

[zapreportsblog]

Can I request platonic Carlisle x child fem witch reader (like 14-15, she ages really slowly), Carlisle saved her from being killed during the Salem Witch Trials? He cares for her so much and since she’s the only one who sleeps in the Cullen clan, he sometimes watches her sleep as if protecting her or something. And he acts somewhat protective of her after finding out she’s Seth’s imprint?

❝the witch hybrid and her companion❞

✭ pairing : father Carlisle Cullen x reader x imprint Seth Clearwater

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is a young witch who Carlisle had saved from the Salem witch trials, she had been been on the verge of being fully brunt to death when he had grabbed and rescued her, she was fifteen when he had turnt her thus making her the first hybrid of both witch and vampire species.

✭ authors note : this shit so long I gotta make a part 2 because I wasn’t done writing

✭ twilight masterlist

The year was 1692, and the small town of Salem was ablaze with fear and suspicion. The Salem Witch Trials had gripped the community, turning neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend. Whispers of witchcraft echoed through the narrow, winding streets like a curse.

In the midst of this hysteria, a young witch named (Y/N) found herself ensnared in the web of accusations. She was a mere fifteen years old, with (dark/light) (h/c) hair and hypnotizing (e/c) eyes that held the secrets of centuries past. Her magical abilities had manifested early, and she had done her best to hide them, but the fervor of the witch hunt had spared no one.

One fateful evening, as the moon hung low in the darkened sky, the town's fervor reached its peak. (Y/N) was dragged from her humble cottage by an angry mob, her hands bound, and the scent of burning wood filled the air. The townsfolk were determined to put an end to the supposed evil that had plagued their lives.

The makeshift gallows stood tall in the center of town, a grim reminder of the collective madness that had taken hold. A wooden stake awaited (Y/N), and the flames that danced around it cast eerie shadows on her pale, terrified face.

As the crowd jeered and cursed, the flames were lit, and the stake began to smolder. (Y/N) let out a piercing scream as the searing pain coursed through her body. She was on the brink of death, her skin blistering and her vision fading.

But then, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with preternatural grace and speed. Carlisle Cullen, a vampire with a heart that still beat for compassion, could not bear to witness this gruesome spectacle. He had heard rumors of witches in Salem and had come to investigate, hoping to prevent further tragedy.

In an instant, Carlisle reached (Y/N)'s side. With a strength that belied his gentle appearance, he tore the wooden stake from her chest. The townsfolk gasped in shock as they beheld a young man of ethereal beauty and otherworldly strength.

Carlisle cradled the near-lifeless (Y/N) in his arms and vanished into the night, leaving behind the chaos and confusion of the mob. He knew that there was only one way to save her now—to grant her the immortality of a vampire.

As they fled into the wilderness, (Y/N) clung to consciousness, her body burned and broken. She whispered a faint thank you to the stranger who had appeared like a guardian angel in her darkest hour. Little did she know that this mysterious savior would change the course of her life forever.

In the moonlit forest, Carlisle Cullen made a solemn vow. He would teach (Y/N) to control her newfound powers, guide her through the complexities of immortal life, and protect her from the world that had once condemned her. Together, they would find redemption and forge a bond that would withstand the ages.

Carlisle had taken a great risk when he saved (Y/N) from the clutches of death during the Salem Witch Trials. He had severed ties with the Volturi long ago, seeking a life that adhered to his moral compass. His choice to create a vampire out of (Y/N), who still possessed her magical abilities, was a secret he needed to protect at all costs.

The struggles were immediate. (Y/N)'s powers, now amplified by her vampiric nature, were dangerously unpredictable. At times, her emotions would trigger bursts of magic that could send objects flying or set the forest ablaze. Keeping her abilities hidden from both the human world and the vampire authorities became an arduous task.

Carlisle spent countless nights helping (Y/N) gain control over her newfound powers. He was patient, guiding her through the nuances of her magic, teaching her to harness it without drawing attention. Together, they honed her skills in secrecy, for they knew that revealing her true nature could lead to disastrous consequences.

As the years passed, Carlisle and (Y/N) developed a bond that ran deeper than blood. They became a family of two, sharing their eternal existence and the burden of concealing her abilities. It was a lonely existence, but they clung to the hope that they could find others like them, vampires who shared their values and accepted (Y/N) despite her magical nature.

Their quest for companionship led them on a journey across the continent. They followed whispers and rumors, searching for those who might understand their unique situation. It was during this quest that they stumbled upon a coven unlike any other.

In a remote, wooded area, they encountered people on the verge of dying such as Edward, Esme, Rosalie, Jasper, Emmett, and Alice.

Together, they navigated the challenges of their unique existence, supporting each other through the trials of immortality and the constant threat of the Volturi's scrutiny. As they honed their abilities and shared their stories, they discovered the true meaning of family – a bond forged not by blood but by choice and shared values.

Their coven became a sanctuary, a place where each member could be their authentic selves without fear of judgment or persecution. And as they faced the world together, they knew that their unity was their greatest strength, a testament to the power of love, acceptance, and the enduring spirit of those who dared to defy the darkness that sought to consume them.

The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.

Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.

One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.

Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.

"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"

With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"

Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."

(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.

As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.

The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.

Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.

One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.

Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.

"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"

With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"

Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."

(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.

As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.

Edward had long been intrigued by Bella Swan, the human girl who had captured his heart. He knew the time had come to introduce her to his family, the Cullens. With a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, he arrived at the Cullen residence with Bella by his side.

The Cullen home exuded an air of elegance and tranquility as Edward and Bella entered. Carlisle and Esme, the matriarch and patriarch of the family, stood together, their welcoming smiles putting Bella at ease. Alice, as ever, bounced with enthusiasm, eager to greet the newcomer.

Rosalie, the beautiful but distant blonde, maintained her standoffish demeanor. Emmett, her jovial and easygoing husband, offered a warm and friendly greeting. Jasper, with his polite distance, appeared cordial yet reserved.

As Bella took in the room full of unique and ethereal beings, her nerves were palpable. Edward gently squeezed her hand, offering silent reassurance.

Edward turned to Bella, his arm draped around her, and gestured toward the youngest member of the family. "(Y/N)," he began, "I'd like you to meet Bella Swan."

(Y/N) stepped forward, her emerald eyes twinkling with curiosity and warmth. "Hello, Bella," she greeted with a genuine smile.

Bella returned the smile, though her gaze flickered with surprise as she took in (Y/N)'s youthful appearance. "Hi, (Y/N). Nice to meet you."

Edward, ever the attentive brother, chimed in, "Bella, (Y/N) is homeschooled. She's rather sensitive emotionally, and we want to ensure she's comfortable."

Bella nodded, not questioning the explanation, and (Y/N) added, "It's lovely to meet someone new. I don't often get the chance to make friends outside the family."

As the conversation flowed, Bella and (Y/N) discovered shared interests. They both had a deep love for nature and a passion for ballet. They exchanged stories about their experiences, and (Y/N) found herself drawn to Bella's genuine and kind-hearted nature.

Alice, always eager to foster connections, joined in their conversation with her trademark enthusiasm. Jasper remained observant but distant, his empathic nature making him cautious around newcomers. Rosalie, on the other hand, kept her distance but couldn't help but sneak occasional glances at Bella, her curiosity getting the better of her.

As the evening unfolded, the Cullens' initial uncertainties about Bella began to fade. It was clear that she brought a light into their home, and her connection with (Y/N) was a pleasant surprise.

Though the Cullens were a family of immortal vampires, they had managed to create a sense of belonging and unity. With Bella's arrival, the dynamics shifted once more, adding a new layer of complexity to their existence. Little did they know that this human girl would play a significant role in their future, bringing challenges and joys they could never have anticipated.

The bond between (Y/N) and Bella had grown stronger since their first meeting at the Cullen household. They shared countless hours talking about everything from books to ballet, and their friendship had become an unbreakable connection.

One sunny afternoon, Bella decided to introduce (Y/N) to a friend from her other life in Forks, someone who was quite different from the Cullen family. She took (Y/N) to the nearby La Push reservation, where she introduced her to Jacob Black.

Jacob, a tall and lanky young man with a warm smile, greeted Bella and her new friend with enthusiasm. (Y/N) was immediately struck by his friendly and down-to-earth nature. She found herself drawn to his easygoing demeanor, which contrasted with the graceful elegance of her vampire family.

As they sat in the shade of a towering tree, (Y/N) and Jacob began to chat. She learned that Jacob had a passion for fixing cars and motorcycles, an interest he'd picked up from his father. It was an unusual hobby for a young man on the brink of shifting into a werewolf, but Jacob loved the mechanical world as much as (Y/N) loved ballet and nature.

"(Y/N), you ever work on cars or bikes?" Jacob asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

She shook her head, intrigued by the idea. "No, I've never had the chance, but I'd love to learn."

Jacob grinned, his enthusiasm infectious. "Well, I can teach you if you're interested. We've got an old truck in the garage that's in need of some TLC."

Bella watched as her friend and her new friend connected over a shared interest. It was a heartwarming sight, seeing her worlds collide in such a positive way.

In the days that followed, (Y/N) visited La Push regularly to spend time with Jacob. She learned how to wield wrenches and navigate the inner workings of an engine. She watched with fascination as he effortlessly fixed motorcycles and patiently explained the mechanics behind each repair.

As (Y/N) delved into this new hobby, she couldn't help but notice the parallel between her time with Jacob and the moments she had observed between Rosalie and Emmett as they worked on cars together. She marveled at the beauty of human experiences and how they transcended the boundaries of her immortal life.

Her friendship with Jacob deepened, and she treasured the moments spent working on engines and sharing stories under the open sky. In those moments, (Y/N) realized that bonds could be formed beyond the supernatural world of vampires and werewolves, and that the connections she forged with humans were just as significant and meaningful.

The year had turned to 2006, and the bonds between (Y/N), Bella, and Jacob had grown stronger since (Y/N) started learning about cars and motorcycles with him. However, a shadow had fallen over their friendship.

Jacob had become distant, and Bella couldn't understand why. She was tired of being ignored, and one day, she decided to confront him with (Y/N) by her side.

They arrived at Jacob's house, and the atmosphere was tense. Bella knew something was amiss, and she was determined to get answers. As they approached the house, they heard roughhousing and laughter coming from the backyard.

Bella's frustration was evident as she muttered, "Enough is enough. I need to know what's going on."

(Y/N) nodded in agreement, her concern mirrored in her eyes. They made their way to the backyard, where they were met with an unexpected sight. Paul, Jared, and Sam, all shirtless, were playfully wrestling in the grass.

Bella's patience had run thin, and she spoke up, "Jacob, we need to talk."

The laughter ceased as the three boys turned to look at the girls. Sam, with his wisdom and responsibility as the pack's alpha, stepped forward. "What's this about, Bella?"

Jacob stood nearby, his expression guarded. Bella's frustration boiled over, and she finally confronted him, "You've been avoiding me, Jacob. I want to know why."

Jacob hesitated, his gaze shifting between Bella and his pack members. But it was Paul who decided to speak, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well, maybe it's because we've got more important things to do than hang out with vampires."

Bella's eyes widened in shock. She had heard the legends, but this was the first time someone from the Quileute tribe had openly referred to the Cullens as vampires.

A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by Jared's uneasy cough. Jacob's features hardened as he faced Bella, the truth finally out in the open. "Yes, Bella, we know what your family is. We know they're the cold ones."

(Y/N), who had remained quiet until now, felt the tension rise to a breaking point. Her magical abilities had always been a closely guarded secret, but she couldn't stand by as the situation escalated.

Before anyone could react, Bella, driven by anger and hurt, slapped Paul across the face. It was an instinctive reaction, but the consequences were immediate. Paul's body began to tremble, and within moments, he transformed into a massive, russet-colored wolf.

Chaos erupted as the other wolves reacted, growling and snapping at the sudden threat. Jacob, acting on instinct to protect Bella, shifted into his wolf form and leaped between Paul and the girls.

(Y/N), her magical powers flaring to life, sensed the impending danger. She stepped forward, raising her hands, and a shimmering magical shield sprang into existence, surrounding Bella and Jacob, protecting them from the agitated wolves.

The standoff continued for a tense moment until Sam, as the pack's leader, barked a command, and the wolves reluctantly backed down. (Y/N) slowly lowered the shield, and the tension in the air dissipated.

Bella and Jacob were left staring at each other, the truth now laid bare.

The tension in the forest eased as Sam, the alpha of the Quileute wolf pack, intervened and calmed the agitated wolves. He beckoned everyone to follow him back to his cabin, where they could talk more openly.

Jacob turned to Bella, his expression pained. "Bella, try not to stare at Emily too much."

(Y/N) caught Jacob's words and glanced at Bella with curiosity. She followed Jacob's gaze to a woman named Emily who was standing nearby. Bella's reaction was immediate; she was taken aback by the scars on Emily's face.

As they entered Sam's cabin, Bella couldn't help but ask, "What happened to her?"

Sam, understanding the girls' confusion, began to explain. "Emily's scars are a result of a shifter's transformation gone wrong. It's a risk we face when we shift. Sometimes, accidents happen."

(Y/N) listened intently, and as she looked at Emily, her mind flashed back to her own past. She remembered the pain of the flames, the burns on her body, and the scars she had carried before Carlisle had turned her into a vampire. It was a painful memory she rarely revisited.

Sam continued, "We're not just ordinary humans, Bella. We're shape-shifters. We transform into wolves. We've known about the cold ones, the vampires, for a long time, and there's a history of conflict between our kind."

Bella's eyes widened, realizing that the tension between Jacob's pack and her family was deeply rooted. It was a revelation that left her with more questions than answers.

Then, Sam turned to (Y/N), his gaze intense. "And what about you? You smell human, but not quite."

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before she decided to share her truth. "I'm not just a vampire. I'm also a witch. Carlisle turned me during the Salem Witch Trials to save my life, but I retained my magic."

The room fell silent as Sam processed this revelation. The other members of the pack, including Paul, who had calmed down, overheard the conversation and entered the cabin.

Paul, still uneasy about (Y/N), voiced his concerns. "Sam, she's dangerous. A vampire-witch hybrid? Who knows what she's capable of?"

Sam raised a hand, silencing Paul. He turned back to (Y/N), his eyes steady. "Explain. How do you use your magic?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath and began to recount the story of the Salem Witch Trials, how she had been condemned, and how Carlisle had turned her to save her life. She spoke of the magic she had retained and how she had learned to harness it, to control it.

As her story unfolded, the tension in the room began to ease. Sam and the rest of the pack listened with rapt attention, realizing that (Y/N) was not a threat but someone who had suffered and survived against all odds.

As the conversation in Sam's cabin continued, the atmosphere began to relax, and the tension that had filled the room started to dissipate. The Cullen and the Quileute pack shared stories and experiences, forging a fragile understanding. However, a new presence entered the room, and the dynamics shifted once more.

The door swung open, and Seth Clearwater entered, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. Got caught up in patrol duty."

He started to explain further but stopped abruptly as his eyes locked onto (Y/N)'s. Time seemed to stand still for Seth as he made eye contact with her, and a series of vivid flashes inundated his mind.

He saw himself dating (Y/N), their laughter echoing through the forest as they went on hikes, their hands intertwined. He saw tender moments of them kissing under the moonlight, their love stronger than anything he had ever imagined. He even saw himself undergoing a transformation, becoming immortal through (Y/N)'s magic, so they could live out their lives together.

The sudden influx of images left Seth bewildered, his heart racing. He stumbled over his words, his apology fading into silence. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a future he had never known he wanted.

The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to Seth. It didn't take long for Sam to realize what had occurred. He approached Seth, his expression knowing. "Seth, you've imprinted."

Seth nodded, still dazed by the overwhelming experience. He couldn't tear his gaze away from (Y/N), who had a bewildered yet sympathetic expression on her face.

Bella, having experienced imprinting with Jacob, understood the gravity of the situation. She leaned over to whisper to (Y/N), "It's a Quileute thing. He can't help it. It's like he's bound to you now."

(Y/N) nodded in understanding, feeling a mix of surprise and sympathy for Seth. She had witnessed how powerful imprinting could be and how it could affect someone's life.

Seth, still recovering from the shock, couldn't help but act like a lovesick puppy around (Y/N). He smiled at her, his gaze lingering, and his actions becoming increasingly attentive. It was clear that his world had shifted, and his focus had become solely centered on her.

The room settled back into conversation, but Seth's newfound devotion to (Y/N) remained evident. He was drawn to her like a magnet, his presence a constant reminder of the complexities of the supernatural world they inhabited.

As the evening wore on, the Cullen and the Quileute pack continued to exchange stories and experiences, but now there was an added layer of understanding and acceptance. The bonds forged between them grew stronger, and they realized that in a world filled with secrets and supernatural forces, connections could form in the most unexpected and profound ways.

Bella and (Y/N) headed back to the Cullens' house, the forest surrounding them bathed in the gentle light of the moon. Bella pulled up to the driveway, and (Y/N) stepped out of the car, her thoughts lingering on the revelations of the evening.

As she watched Bella drive off, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. She had made new friends, but she was aware of the complications that could arise from her interactions with the outside world. Her hybrid nature, a blend of vampire and witch, held secrets that she needed to protect.

Entering the Cullens' home, (Y/N) was immediately surrounded by her family. Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper all gathered around her, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Where have you been, (Y/N)?" Carlisle's voice held a hint of anger, but also a deep concern. He had always been protective of her, knowing the dangers of the human world and the risks associated with her true nature being exposed.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her gaze meeting Carlisle's. "I've been hanging out with Bella and Jacob and some new friends I made."

Carlisle's concern deepened. "New friends? (Y/N), you know the risks. Your true nature, both as a vampire and a witch, could be exposed to humans."

(Y/N) nodded, understanding his worries but also eager to share her experiences. "I know, Carlisle, but I've been careful. And I've learned a lot about the Quileute culture and the challenges they face."

Carlisle couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. He was angry that Bella had taken (Y/N) without informing anyone, concerned about the risks, but also happy that his daughter had made friends outside their family.

However, his world was about to be shaken once more. (Y/N) noticed the change in her father's demeanor and decided it was time to reveal the most significant development of the evening.

"I have something to tell you," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of infatuation. "I've been imprinted on."

Carlisle's eyes widened in shock. "Imprinted? By whom?"

(Y/N) smiled, a lovesick expression in her eyes. "Seth Clearwater."

The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. Carlisle realized that his younger daughter had formed a bond that was far deeper and more profound than any ordinary friendship. He knew that an imprint was a powerful connection, one that couldn't be broken.

As (Y/N) continued to share the story of her evening and the imprint, Carlisle's world came crashing down. He had always known that his family's supernatural existence came with complexities, but the idea of his daughter being infatuated with a young shifter left him with a mix of emotions—concern, worry, and a touch of sadness for the challenges that lay ahead.

The Cullens, a family bound by love and acceptance, now faced a new chapter in their extraordinary lives, one that would test their bonds and their ability to navigate the intricate web of supernatural connections.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight imagines #twilight masterlist #twilight #twilight x y/n #twilight x you #seth clearwater x you #seth clearwater x y/n

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader Prologue: An Odd Woman

Summary: Tommy meets you in 1919, the beginning that feels like an ending in hindsight. Among betting men there is a vibrant culture of superstition and mysticism. It was in this industry you found your trade as a “psychic,” and met a man with a Red Right Hand.

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn, Tommy is shallow and confused at first. WC: 1.6k

1919 was an odd year for Mr. Shelby. His eyes were still bright, the boy who died in the tunnels still clung to his ankles as he stalked the roads of Birmingham. In those days, Tommy was still starving for money. For any sort of gain in power. He still slept on an old mattress with his drug of choice within reach. He still delivered his horses to mystics and magicians to psych out the competitors of the next day’s race. It was this Thomas Shelby who brought himself to the door of your flat. You, the newest little medium in Small Heath.

He had heard many things about you. How you seemed to just “know,” things. You weren’t gypsy, but there were whispers that you could see inside hearts and minds like no other. For a reasonable fee, you would read a person like a book tell them the next chapter of their life without hesitation. He was not normally the sort to seek your kind out. Thomas Shelby could see ahead just fine without the guide of psychic, genuine or charlatan in nature. Until, of course, a crate of guns came into his possession and an Irish woman sang to him from atop a table. Even the devil needs direction, sometimes. 

That morning, the devil had sought you out.

Your flat looked the same as any other. There were green vines and a purple curtain blocking his view inside your window. Plain bricks on the outside. Gutter hanging off slightly from your roof. Thinking it best to just get it all over with, he knocked. You answered. And he froze.

When he first saw you, there was nothing extraordinary about you. You didn't wear a silk turban or line your eyes with black to convince your customers of some supernatural gift. You were just a young woman dressed comfortably in her little flat. A long, thick robe suited for the winter chill was tied around your body and sensible slippers on your feet. Nothing overly frilly or fanciful. Tommy would almost call your presentation "dowdy." However, what had made him freeze were your eyes. He knows the power of his own stare. Your stare was something truly unique. It was something he couldn’t quite put into words. The color of your eyes was not exceptional, nor the size of your eyes or their shape. There was a force behind the stare that had him fixed to the spot. The sound of your voice was all that put him back into the world.

“Can I help you?” your tone is flat, but he can’t decide of its intentional.

Tommy takes a glance from the corner of his eye to ensure there are no onlookers. The roads are empty. He looks into your eyes once more and says, “You see the future, I hear.”

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat,” you step aside to let him inside. He almost hesitates. Second thoughts are not something Tommy likes to entertain. To falter, to ruminate, is to dance at the edge of cowardice. Tommy pushes onward and crosses the threshold of your home. Thus begins the start of a most unusual affair.

The lighting was dim in your little flat, and on the walls were dozens of shadowboxes were every assortment of insect on display. In fact, nearly everything in your home appeared to be some sort of collection. Orderly in their presentation but crowded due to lack of space. All the furniture looked inherited rather than new, but that was typical. There was the scent of lavender and cedar in the air. As he passed by two sticks of incense burning on the mantle of your fireplace, he found the origin of the fragrance. 

‘No trace of any other resident in the home. No husband. How modern’, he thought. As he made his observations, Tommy was painfully aware of your eyes on his back. You guided him silently to a small room with two sofas facing each other. He sat opposite to you, not bothering to remove his cap. As you sit across from him, your eyes are everywhere but him. Roving about the room as you tap your thumb to the tip of each finger on your hand. By the way you were sitting, someone just entering the room might assume you were a guest by how stiff your posture was. Back completely straight, both feet firmly planted on the floor. This was your home, your time, and Tommy looked more at ease sitting on your own furniture. 

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time,” you say as your bottom hits the sofa cushion. He hears you. He hears you make a correct assumption about him, but he does not show his acknowledgement. 

Tommy threads his fingers together on his lap, “They say you can see inside of people, tell them things about them that even they don’t know.”

Blinking owlishly at him you reply, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! Should put that on a sign outside my doorway. Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby. You are Mr. Shelby yes?”

“That I am,” he nearly laughs, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

Your eyes snap onto his own and again he feels caught off guard by it. Slowly, you lean forward, “It’s not like you to need help. You avoid seeking it. Something has happened to you that has never happened before, you do not know how to carry on because you cannot fall back on learned tactics to navigate the storm.”

He says nothing. Tommy finds you don’t require his input to carry on speaking as you tilt your head and continue. As you speak, you never break eye contact. Your gaze is one that leaves him feeling stripped to the bone. Flesh peeled back and pinned so that you may inspect him further with an objective, curious eye, "One of the walking wounded, soldier come home from war. You don't sleep well. None of you do. But, you hide it better than most."

"Quite the assumption," he deadpanned.

You carry on as if not hearing him, “A Catholic without Christ. Guilty but without remorse. You only follow yourself and yet you have lost faith within. So, you act out of your own character to try to find a solution to a problem you’ve made yourself. A problem with solutions you can't commit to.”

Tommy’s heart is beating faster in his chest. The plain-faced woman who greeted him at the door has been replaced. Your face seems to change, the sir around you shifting. There is a thrill in being seen. A thrill, but also annoyance. “And what would you do to solve such a problem?”

“It wouldn’t help you to know what anyone else would do. Even if my way was best, you wouldn’t obey it. Obedience is not something you do willingly,” there’s a smile in your eyes that makes his hands tighten around each other. “Is your greatest problem above, below, or beside you?”

His face remains stoic as he mulls over your odd question. He thinks of those beneath him, the factory workers who riot and cause him distraction. Beside him, his brothers in arms and brothers by blood. Ada. Freddie…. Grace. And then he thinks of Campbell and Kimber. “Above me, always.”

You nod, “There was no need for you to come see me. You know the answer to the question before you asked it. The greatest woe for you is that there are matters of the heart keeping you from stabbing upwards to the enemies who stand over you. You aren’t used to having that sort of obstacle... You need to decide what you want more and act accordingly. To have both things will end poorly, but I can't stop you. Nobody can but you.”

For a moment, he feels a sense of relief. It had been many years since the words of a stranger had done that to him. This feeling was overtaken by an immediate realization. He had come to you under the assumption that you were gifted by second-sight. Yet… You had no cards, no crystals, did not say a prayer or even a hymn in a nonsense language.

“You’re no medium,” he states it as fact. Not as a question or accusation. Though, he watches to see how you take it. Tommy likes to see how people respond to being caught, he finds it to be the most revealing time for most. For the third or fourth time since he laid eyes on you, you defied expectation.

With a slow shrug you say, “I’ve never made the claim that I was one. Everyone started saying so one day and I decided not to correct them. I just read people.”

‘What an odd woman,’ Tommy leaned back in his seat. Face still as stone. As he looked at you, your posture returned to that stiff, nearly-too-straight, position from before. He could see why the average man would see you as something beyond the natural. Ordinary to otherworldly. An odd woman indeed. You stand from your couch with a small, crooked smile, “That’ll be ten quid, Mr. Shelby, a discount for a first-time reading. It'll be thirteen for the next time.”

He pushed the money into your hands and said, "Won't be a next time." You gave him no audible response as you walked him to your door and released him from the dreamworld your home had trapped him in. Tommy did not look back as he walked three paces from your door and lit a cigarette. No one had seen him and he had a feeling you wouldn't share his visit with others.

Tommy pushed you from his mind to focus on what may come next.

The rest of the day moved quickly and slowly all at once after he left your little flat. He swore to himself that he would never go back. Swore that he hated every instant spent in your dark home that smelled of lavender and cedar. Swore that he despised the way you peeled back his skin with that glare so sharp. No, he couldn't feel them on him. Not at all.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #Thomas Shelby x autistic!reader #autistic!reader

[soapoet]

who is thinking about you?

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Power over me by Dermot Kennedy

For many of you this is someone with whom you share a somewhat professional relationship with. They may be a colleague, fellow student, a client, or service provider. Anyone who has some authority over you or simply holds a higher position. A person you turn to for help or guidance. To put it into perspective, this can be either your boss or someone you have hired or vice versa, but for some it could be the dm or fellow player of that d&d campaign, somebody you collaborate or work with towards something.

This person is very easy for you to talk to, and regardless of the professional or goal-oriented undertones of the connection, the two of you meet at a similar wavelength as equals. Lines are blurred both ways due to the ease and comfort of your rapport. Their day is made brighter in your presence, and they may smile to themselves whenever you cross their mind. Though on occasion they are filled with concern. It is possible that you have confided in them recently, and knowing your struggles sometimes leaves them feeling helpless. As if they wish they could do more. They certainly have a bit of a saviour complex, or identify as a problem solver and wish to fix some situation in your life or offer their support and guide you through rough terrain.

They are treading a fine line within their mind. They have thoughts and ideas swirling in their head, figuring out ways to best be of assistance to you and help you help yourself. Simultaneously, however, they catch themselves frequently smiling, heart perhaps fluttering, at various little moments you have shared, and the way those moments could have played out differently if only they had the courage to act more freely. They are caught off guard, possibly even disturbed sometimes, by their own capacity of crossing lines, even if just in their mind. They may even find it hard to sleep sometimes because they have you on their mind. But still they find these imaginary escapades intoxicating and rejuvenating. They find ways to justify their thoughts, telling themselves it is okay because it is all in their head and they have the wits about them not to act on them. Because their primary concern is with work or their obligations and role as a mentor or colleague of yours, they try their best to hold back and act normal. But if there is one thing they are not normal about it is you.

For some of you, this person is already in a commitment. Either to another person, married to their work, or glued to their projects and all their efforts are set on a goal they are pursuing. You stand as a distraction, a detour off their path, but what they may not know or fail to understand is that straying sometimes yields experiences and tools to make the journey to the destination easier or better altogether. It is also tangible the monochromatic nature of their life. Their relationships feel stale and uninspiring, as though they are trudging through an endless swamp. This may have been the case for so long they had forgotten what it feels to be light on your feet. They feel a pep in their step when you're around, and it is making them question many things and choices that they have made thus far in life. They may even be considering a change in direction, leaving circumstances behind or cleaning their contacts and assignments to make room for new things. They are excited, albeit a little scared, of the possibilities that they invite by closing old chapters. They may be slow to do this, as they favour routine and comfort and are a little afraid of the unknown no matter how their heart beats for some adventure and new winds in their sails.

They are holding their cards very close, and may have built their walls higher as of late. If you are observant, you may notice the disconnection between what they are feeling and what they are saying and doing. It looks like they are ready to boil over but are keeping the lid closed with brute force to prevent anything from spilling. They have much to tell you, secrets to share, confessions to reveal. But they are taking their time. They may be fluctuating between a decision to come forward, and just letting it be and get over their messy thoughts and feelings. To simply wait this one out. Especially because sharing what is on their mind could really shake things up not just in their life, but yours. They want to help you, support your growth and make sure to walk alongside you and enjoy the time you share together, but their vision of the future has gotten blurry and uncertain. This unnerves them greatly. They are likely to come forward, though with great subtlety. Keep your eyes peeled, as they may be watching for a signal or a clue from you before they make a move. They are testing the waters but may need a push before they dive in.

Additional details: Dark hair and/or clothes, blue or tired eyes, rabbits, computer screens, coffee, swivel chairs, hiking, size difference, "are you cold?", virgo/leo/pisces/capricorn, 27/31/911/93/21, T/A/U/S/K, June/July/August, LOTR, video games, d&d, board games, travelling, circus, strength, health, green cargo pants, glasses, skulls, frown lines, very straight teeth, rare but genuine smile.

02.

Shufflemancy: August by Taylor Swift

This feels very familiar. For many, this is a friend or somebody you view with gentle affection. Even if you haven't known each other for long, it easily feels as though you have known each other your whole life, maybe even longer. For some, you may have met them online or there is a physical distance at present. For those of you in close proximity, there is some other kind of distance. Perhaps you or this person have been busy as of late, or closed off somehow. Especially if you normally talk to each other daily, something may have put the communication on pause, caused delays, or simply shortened the duration or depth of your conversations.

They have a lot of admiration and respect for you, and find you very endearing. They may frequently show this appreciation through words of affirmation, always ready to remind you of how highly they think of you. They may also get you little gifts and tokens of their love and care. Anything to put a smile on your face, especially if you have been stressed or upset. They are quite smitten with you, and you may already know this. You have surprised them somehow. For some of you, this person is used to being in charge and knowing what's best, being right and correcting others, but you seem to have put them in their place to some extent. You might be the first person in a long time, or ever, to switch it around and have them be the one learning and growing and changing because of somebody else's thoughts, guidance, advice, and knowledge. It does not even seem to bother them, because really it feels quite refreshing to follow instead of leading for a change. They admire your perseverance and your strength, and find your ability to strive like a dandelion growing through a crack in the concrete sincerely inspiring.

Either one of you may have recently gone through a break-up within a major relationship in your lives. Something has been lost, be it romantic, platonic, or familial. You may have been of great support and a source of hope and comfort for them during this phase of their life, or vice versa. Their eyes seem to have opened up to the reality of certain habits or cycles in their lives that have not helped them progress, but instead turned into a hamster wheel. If they were in a commited relationship, they may have realised that they have been taken for granted or their partner may have taken advantage of them to some capacity. For some, there may have been quite a bit of toxicity within whichever kind of relationship or situation that ended for either of you. They seem to have you on their mind 24/7. They enjoy talking to you, hearing about your day, listening to your rants, and wish to spend a lot of quality time with you. They may frequently imagine scenarios that have to do with the simple things. Grocery shopping or walking together aimlessly. Even the mundane feels light and airy and brand new when it is with you.

I'll be honest. This person may harbour very strong feelings for you. Funny thing is, though, that you may be very aware of this. For a few of you, this is a very welcome and exciting development in your friendship, but you wish to take things slowly and see what happens without forcing anything. Especially if they recently ended something long-term, and you wish to avoid being used as a bandaid on a broken heart and would rather walk alongside them as a friend while they heal from the past. To just support them in their next chapter and see if the feelings they have developed for you have a strong foundation or if they're fleeting and rose-coloured due to their past blues. For others of you, however, you may be a bit put off by this. You may sincerely doubt your compatibility as partners in anything beyond platonic.

Perhaps you once considered it. Wondered what the future would hold should you allow yourself to be swept away by their waves, but that likely was not long-lived and went no further than idle what-ifs. You value their friendship, and don't want to ruin it by changing the status and the nature of the connection. You may even get the ick from some of the things they say or do, count red flags and deal breakers in an attempt to stand firm in your decision to not give in. Some of you may even have a history of lowering your standards or jumping into things too quickly because of the rush and excitement of new beginnings, only to be left disappointed and regretful later. If this rings true for you, stand firm in your convictions and don't let anything make you feel like you owe anyone anything.

Additional details: Number sequences/angel numbers/mathematics, airplanes, tech, IT, travelling, languages, studying, music, guitars, mean girls, pet names, norse mythology, E/J/A/R/D/G, 7/6/85/35/29, February/March/July, minecraft, discord, online, princess, water, cancer/pisces/libra/aries, starbucks, dogs, "you are incredible", gifts, adopting interests/hobbies, control.

03.

Shufflemancy: Break my heart by Dua Lipa

You may or may not have noticed someone stealing glances or studying your face closely when you're not looking. This person admires you greatly. It likely began as something quite simple. At first you were a source of comfort and guidance. They may have come to you for advice or help with direction, uncertain of where to go and may have been depleted of their energy. They are likely around your age or a little bit younger, but they certainly have more of a youthful energy to them. It seems like their childlike wonder is a front to the many scars they hide from a horrific past. The easiest way for you to identify this person may just be by finding out who seems to have been caught up in a series of unfortunate events their whole life. It might surprise you how much pain they carry specifically because of their otherwise sunny disposition and bubbly, sweet, and fun character. They find home in your presence. It seems like they have always had to be the strong one, carrying the world upon their shoulders, but in your presence they can lower their walls and show the grief that they hide. Far from trauma dumping, they very carefully calculate what to share with you, and do so in a gentle way that communicates that their burdens are theirs and wish not for you to carry them on their behalf, but to simply see beyond the surface and understand their turmoil. There can even be a bit of a disconnect between head and heart here, wherein they have distanced themselves from their pain to cope. They may speak of their fears and challenges with a smile on their face, as though they are joking around and telling tales of someone else, not themselves. At first you may have had to do a double take, shocked by the juxtaposition of light and dark so tightly intertwined, but you seem to understand their suffering on a deep level and sympathise with them greatly. This person may find you quite magical. In their mind you are like an angel. They don't expect you to heal them or make all their problems go away, but instead are filled with gratitude for the solace your presence provides. They find it easier to get out of bed in the morning simply knowing that they exist in the same realm as you. You inspire them to help themselves and do away with what no longer serves them. Your kindness and care is not lost on them, and they cherish your every word. They look up to you, and in many ways you may have resparked their will to journey on. No longer do they wish to roll with the punches and let themselves be at the mercy of their circumstances and fight the same demons every day. Though they often feel hopeless and have the light in their eyes quickly dim when clouds roll in, you have planted seeds in them which will slowly but surely begin to sprout and help them grow stronger and reach for the light they so dearly desire.

For some of you they may have an equally positive effect on your life. Despite the dark clouds that hang over them, they are radiant and full of fun and love and care. They might feel to you like a gentle wind blowing through your hair, a cooling breeze on a hot summer's day. Their energy is as invigorating as it is inviting, and you may find yourself leaning outside your own comfort zone and daring to be bolder, speak your mind and take yourself less seriously. They are comfortable to be around. The two of you may also share a deep compassion and care towards your environment, be it your community, nature, or humanity overall. You are both nurturing and caring people, but differ in your approach. You may find that things which come easily to you are things they struggle with, and vice versa, and you naturally seem to benefit each other and strengthen each other's weaknesses. For some of you, this is a very pure form of admiration and an almost familial sense of security that they have with you. For others they may have leaned further into it and caught very real feelings for you. Regardless, this feels fated, and is potent with healing and growth for both of you. You are frequently on their mind, almost as though you never truly leave and merely move to the side when they need to focus on something else. They think the world of you. They want to do better and be better, not to impress you but to truly make you proud of them and feel like your efforts weren't in vain. They love your voice and their days are made much brighter by you, especially if you think the reverse is true and they are the ones letting the sun into your life.

Additional details: Cats, messy hair, braids, spiders, networking, green or hazel eyes, big or glossy eyes, loud music, expressive face, K/S/H/R/T/P, 67/93/6/9/5, cancer/gemini/aquarius/virgo/pisces, September/June/July/August, mental health issues, lgbt+, rock/indie music, cartoons, hands, nail polish, muted colours, air, vanilla, chips.

04.

Shufflemancy: Disappear by eli.

This one is a little different, and I wish to tread carefully. This may be a person very dear to you, or someone who treasures you dearly. For some of you, this person is no longer with us. They may have passed recently or perhaps you never had the chance to meet them, but their energy still lingers. Especially when you find yourself at your lowest. For others they are amongst the living, but are in separation from you somehow. Radio silence, cut contacts, abrupt endings, the years took you in different directions, or something was left unsaid and feels stuck now. This could be a family member, relative, an old friend, significant mentor or partner, from this life or beyond, however it resonates with you and your beliefs. You have been in their thoughts and prayers lately. Their heart aches when they see or feel you breaking, crumbling under the weight of all which has been placed upon your shoulders. It seems like so much, too much, for someone so dear to them to carry all on their own. In their eyes you are so strong. Able to withstand so much heartache and still keep going, one step at a time even when it gets dark and grim and the lights become so dim you don't see where you are going. It is as though you tell yourself you have to. Because what would it all have been for if you stopped? Many may rely on you and your strength, but you need to rest and you need something to lean on, too. This person wishes they could hold you and tell you that it will be okay. That it's okay to cry and scream, but to never give up. Even when the light seems to fade from your eyes that otherwise burn so bright with hope and drive, they want to encourage you to keep going. The world would become so dark without your light. They wish they could apologise for any wrongs done to you, by them, your near and dear, really, the whole world. They want to help nudge you to greener pastures and help you receive your due. When you are sad and scared and weary, they try to nourish your seeds and saplings because you deserve a good harvest. They wish for you to become more selfish. To take up more space and let demands of your time and energy fall on deaf ears. To restore a balance in the give and take and make sure you ask for what you need, and accept the love you so freely give to others.

For those of you for whom this person is amongst the living and simply at a distance, they frequently wonder how you are doing. They feel regretful for how they treated you or feel like they failed you somehow, and wish they could give you their sincrerest apology. Not to be forgiven and clear their conscience, but to tell you what they should have said and done before but never did, or did not do or say enough. They just want you to know that you are seen and that they are truly sorry. And for others, this person is around you and you are closely on their mind and in their heart. They grieve as you grieve and wish to make it all better. They know they cannot erase the past or undo your wounds, but hope to see you make it and get where you are going. To find those with hearts as pure as yours and finally feel like you belong. You deserve so much and even I am tearing up writing this. I am so sorry for what you have been through in this life. Please hang in there. Additional details: Lavender, floral scent and/or fabrics, champagne, piano, keys, freshly cut grass, clutter, photos, journals, doodles, biting your nails, sagittarius/scorpio/capricorn/gemini/taurus, 2/22/5/8/95/27/3, May/December/November/April, country roads, apples/fruit in general, freckles or birth marks, fog, woods, nightmares, dark night of the soul, difficulty breathing, comatose, midnight, deer and antlers.

05.

Shufflemancy: All the things she said by Poppy

This feels a little bittersweet. The person with you on their mind may have once been a dear friend of yours, a childhood friend or neighbour, someone who once walked alongside you through important times in your life. For some, this person drifted away from you naturally, for others there was a more decisive cut to the chord between the two of you. Either way, however, in both cases you were left bitter and sad and alone to lick your wounds. You may on occasion, whether you like to admit it or not, think back fondly to the good old days and the sweet moments that you shared. Your inside jokes and the dynamic between the two of you may be something you miss, but you're still firm in that whatever happened here, be it a fight that broke out or the lack of effort and time on their part letting you drift apart, you do not wish to repeat this cycle. Perhaps you wish them well now that you have healed, or will once you do, but your life may now look very different from when they were a part of it. This brings me to why you have been on their mind lately. It's possible that they have seen you, bumped into you or seen you from a distance, or you have been mentioned to them by somebody else who has caught you out in the wild. You may be unrecognisable to them in some way. Be it a glow up or a sudden shift in your life having made you step into an energy more authentic to you. People from your past, beyond bridges you have burnt, may speak of you in negative tones and gawk at who you have become. Likely because those bridges you burnt lit the way to a much brighter future for you. Regardless of how your life is going, the past may be embittered with envy for what you do and who you are now that you are free from their rigid expectations. This person is not quite as vindictive in their thinking, though they may nod along and agree with those around them. In their mind and heart they have a bit of admiration for you. You may have done things they wish they were brave enough to do themselves. Perhaps even in the past they admired your reluctance to stick to the status quo or how you, unlike their peers, had little concern for what others thought. It might just be that the box they have placed themselves within, or where they have been placed by others, has become uncomfortable and restricting rather than cozy and secure. Their peers may have a lot of expectations and demand a lot of their time and energy, whilst giving very little in return. Especially if they ever accused you of toxicity, they may have opened their eyes to how giving and supportive of their growth you actually were. Those they now surround themselves with seem to need them to bend to their will and grow a specific way and at a specific rate, lots of things to keep track of and always say and do the right and correct thing, whilst you now seem like such a forgiving, understanding, and patient energy that they are sorry that they lost. They may have come across old photos or tokens of your friendship, and quietly reminisced about the past and wondered how different life could have been had they stuck by your side. Looking at you now they may feel quite stunted, lacking the experience and feeling a little lost within themselves and their life. They're running through various stages of your friendship and pondering the right and wrongs of every hiccup, and finding fault in themselves. Finally, you may even scoff. Because in many ways you were abandoned by them, you may rejoice a little bit at the thought of them at last seeing where they did wrong or not enough.

For some of you, you could hear from them in the near future. Especially if they clean up their social circle and let go of harmful influences that they have let dictate their heart and mind. For others, you may hear from them, but not very soon. They may attempt to draw motivation from you at a distance to conjure up the courage to pave their own path forward. In doing so they will in many ways follow in your footsteps, and burn many bridges. You more than anyone know the vulnerability, fear, and pain associated with the destruction before rebuilding, and if they aren't as strong as you it will take some time before they find their footing. So, maybe find it in your heart to send them an energetic thumbs up for finally shaking things up and making their own way. This may eventually lead them to cross paths with you again, and you may reconnect and reminisce together. They will come with apologies, and you will find them truer than what they could have mustered before their transformation. You may not turn back time and become inseparable again, but it feels like things will become lighter and brighter in various areas of life for the both of you after your reunion.

Additional details: Soft hair, literature, neat handwriting, cosplay, masquerade, swords, cobblestone, crows or other birds, mom friend, hometown, I/J/P/F/C/N, 1/17/20/99/23, capricorn/sagittarius/scorpio/virgo/libra, January/November/October/December, backpacks, instagram, trains, puzzles, animal crossing, family holidays or events, muted colours.

06.

Shufflemancy: Sinner by Trevi Moran

Oh my. It seems like somebody has learned that their actions have consequences. This is somebody you probably blocked or simply stopped putting up with. They seem a little arrogant and not at all careful with their words. They entertain numerous people and enjoy the spotlight. There is a strong sense of entitlement and powerlust here. It feels a little icky to be in contact with, ngl. You may miss the sparks and the fun of this connection, but they really knew how to push all the wrong buttons while they were at it, didn't they? It seems like the good was so good but the bad was so bad it drove you up the wall. You may have frequently felt cornered, with your boundaries crossed, made to feel crazy and ridiculous even if they were the ones steering the train off the rails to begin with. I hope you have healed from this, because I assure you that your reactions cannot be compared to their actions. How you act when pushed has far more justifications than their act of pushing. Some of you may have needed to hear that. This person has done much to distract from your departure. Especially at first they may have lived under the assumption that it isn't permanent. That surely you will return. If you have a history of being on-and-off to any capacity, they relied on that to eventually bring you back. That dynamic itself made them reckless with their words and actions. They felt no need to take your feelings into consideration and assumed they could do whatever they please. There is an air of superiority to them, as though they think very highly of themselves, or look down on others. Your chemistry may have been phenomenal, but you saw through their bs and knew they are not as virtuous and good as they parade themself to be. You saw a hypocrite where others see a saint. They grew increasingly aware of your absence. They checked the time, counted days and compared your prior absences. Finally it hit them that this time you may truly never return. That you were really done this time and decided to outgrow them and move on. This has kept them awake some nights. They are very good at finding themselves things to do and socialising with a wide variety of people with various intentions, so it's not like you are stuck on their mind constantly. But when their thoughts land on you, it stings and burns and does it so hard and cuts so deep. It screws with their perception of themselves. They may know they are unlike who they portray themselves as, but it seems like a hard pill to swallow to truly admit that you no longer want anything to do with them. They miss you a lot. And it is a very selfish longing, too. They may hold on to hope that you will return once more, and disgustingly enough it seems this hope is weighed less in love for you and is heavier in the need to be right and get to say 'I told you so'. They may stalk you on social media, and for those of you who have made this impossible for them to do they often wonder what has come of you. They don't know how much you have grown and how much brighter the world seems when they are no longer there hanging over your head like a raincloud. They may assume you are stuck exactly where you were when you walked away, but you never stopped walking once you took off. Every day you are healing, decluttering your life and manifesting a better reality for yourself. And your intentions are so pure and good it would truly bother them that you are the saint they try to be. Their sainthood is a ruse, their altruism full of fine print and schemes and ulterior motives. Yours is a genuine path and title earned through a heart that bleeds for the weak and weary. The two of you are like night and day, and perhaps the clash between you had gorgeous sunsets, but it's darkest of all before the dawn and you no longer wish to be consumed by darkness and have chosen to walk in the light.

Additional details: Passports, sugar, alcholic beverages, social events, charity, real estate, formal wear, chess, strategy games, J/E/T/M/K/Y/A, 22/21/12/80/85/2/8, capricorn/aries/leo/cancer/gemini/aquarius, sharks, typhoons, spreadsheets, cash, coastal area, fish, religion, tan, the little prince.

#pac reading #energy reading #pick a card #intuitive reading #pick a pile #pick a card reading #tarot reading #pick a picture #love pac #soapy.post

[chrollohearttags]

𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇 • 𝕰. 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 : chapter one

synopsis: for as long as he could remember, his life was music and his money, no time for anything else. The only love he had ever known was the studio. That was until one night, he met his greatest muse thus far.

cw: insta model/musician black !fem reader, a very antisocial engineer/musician eren (he’s seen as kind of an asshole but he’s really sweet) no hardcore smut for this portion! just some kissing, fondling and mentions of sex, alcohol and drugs, profanity of course, inappropriate behavior

wc: 6.4K

notes from the author 📝 : So I'm going to be turning one of my first stories I posted on here, Studio, into a full series. I’ve written a million drabbles for this so I’m finally finishing the actual first chapter. Don’t know how many parts it will have but fuck it, we ball.

“Yeah, I don’t care much for any of this..the whole club scene like that. Truth is, I rather be anywhere else but I gotta get my money and something tells me you would too..so, let’s make the best of it and get this bag together.”

next chapter

They say that music is the one thing that makes the world go around..that without it, life would be a mistake.

a lot of people can’t even function if they don’t have their favorite song blaring through the speakers on the way to work..or in their headphones while trying to manage the school day. Others couldn’t imagine a gym session without that one playlist to get them pumped.

and for one man…

“You can’t be serious right now.”

it was his entire life!

“What do you mean, bro? This shit gas!”

the brunette released a heavy winded sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. His glasses were hanging from his face as well. Anyone who knew him was quite familiar with that look and it wasn’t a good one.

another male with glistening chains, gold slugs and a black hoodie stood above him from the circulating chair. To say he had irritated his producer was an understatement but it wasn’t a rare occurrence in the slightest.

“Bro..we’ve been here for five hours..you show up late and then you bring me this? You’re just fucking with me, right?”

Eren Jaeger, or E.J..a name very respected and revered in the music industry. For as long as he could remember, music was his first and only love in his young life..if there was an instrument to be played, he not only sought out to learn it but master it as well.

if there was a song he liked, best believe he was going to end up inevitably out singing the artists themselves.

despite the fact that the career path wasn’t fully backed by his Ivy League, white coat wearing, scholar of a father, he was determined to turn that childhood passion into a very successful and lucrative dream.

working religiously to fine tune his playing skills, along with his voice. He practically resided in the chorus and band classroom; perfecting his craft in all areas..drums, guitar, horns, piano, whatever you could think of.

he became so obsessed in fact that it left little room in his life for extracurricular activities, including a lot of friends or dates.

writing lyrics during class, skipping lunch to go toy around in the library with his laptop create beats..he was a natural born prodigy. Fast forward to college, where he made the very easy choice to study music engineering and mastering…

it was one night while he was working at a shoe store to fund his education that his coworkers decided to record him singing and rapping (all free-styled by the way) while he was doing inventory as a joke. Little did they know, they had just propelled him right into stardom.

coupled with his good looks, sultry lyrics and popularity, everyone wanted their chance to work with him.

there was only one tiny problem..as much as Eren loved creating music, he despised the spotlight even more! How ironic, right? He had no desire whatsoever to be anyone’s next Bieber or Post Malone.

that fame shit was good and dead to him. He truly believed there was no point in making his art to keep up with trends and other artists if your heart wasn’t in it. Not only that, the attention was insufferable.

they were more concerned with if he had a girlfriend, what he looked like or who he was fucking. His talent was on the back burner and it frustrated the hell out of him.

it was the very reason he didn’t respect a lot of today’s musicians. A lot of them weren’t even true or authentic to themselves and fed into that bullshit. That’s why he chose to stay behind the scenes.

it was easier to focus on what he loved rather than the stupidity. Shame it couldn’t allude him entirely because he was left with instances such as today. Grabbing a nearby water bottle, the visibly frustrated brunette unscrewed the cap and chugged the clear liquid down halfway.

at this point, he had heard all that was necessary. It was back to the drawing board because no way he was about to co-sign or engineer this bullshit.

“You’re just not seeing the vision, bro. Trust me on this.”

“I’m seeing something and it’s my patience wearing thin. Twenty four hours…that’s all you have to come back with some heat like I know you got. You’re better than this, man. If you don’t tighten up, you can forget me working on this goddamn album. I’m not even playing with you.”

the rapper knew not to test his luck any further. Friend or not, he wasn’t going to waste anymore of his precious time. Releasing a heavy huff, he’d hop up from his seat and grab his phone.

it didn’t come from a place of malice or hatred but Eren did have the tendency to come off a bit harsh. He didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just how he was and everyone had learned to deal with it.

he was the type of person that accepted nothing less than greatness from his artists so if he deemed it lazy or lackluster, his stamp would not be on it.

besides, he still had three other artists to see today and he didn’t have anymore time to waste on listening to this man let the beat whoop his ass for four tracks straight.

“Same time tomorrow then, man?”

“That depends on you. You bring me a hot pack of ass like this and you’ll be standing outside the door. Now goodbye.”

with that, he’d take his leave, security tailing behind him and a scowl on his face. Left shaking his head, Eren just released a heavy sigh before looking down at his mixing board.

"..does anybody take this business seriously anymore?"

just then, he was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. It was his agent..or rather the one who ran the show. Hesitant and just not in the mood to deal with this, he’d release a deep sigh and say a silent prayer before answering.

“Jesus, you look like shit. When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

and it seemed his prayers weren’t effective enough because he was seconds from snapping. The first words from the snarky woman’s mouth like daggers to his soul.

“Well good afternoon to you too, Mikasa.”

the two of them had been friends for quite some time and even the center of some weird dating rumors but for anyone that knew the duo, it was the furthest thing from.

despite him not making many records in the past few years, Eren still DJ’ed and promoted, as well as performed at some clubs, in addition to engineering and producing..so naturally someone had to arrange these happenings as a middle man.

but, being him, he could never make anything easy and was labeled like that of a diva. Hard to work with and always turning down things that didn’t appease him. Which naturally made her job a whole lot harder..

she was just the only one who refused to tolerate his bullshit!

“Don’t good afternoon me. I’ve been trying to track your ass down for two days and to no avail, of course you’re holed up in that damned studio like a hermit.”

he could hear what she was saying but in all honestly, he didn’t care. More than likely, she wanted him to go and DJ at some stuffy lounge riddled with coked up college kids and aspiring models who eat Xanax for breakfast.

totally not his speed.

nonetheless, he’d lean back in his chair, nonchalantly chewing on the end of a toothpick as he listened to her ramble.

it was obvious that nothing was getting through to that thick numbskull of his.

“And? I’m working. You’d know that if you were a good agent.”

just then, the short haired woman broke into a chuckle, clutching the steering wheel of her S Class Mercedes. And something told him it wasn’t because he said something funny.

“Don’t piss me off more than you already have. Listen, I have a job for you tonight..the new club that just opened up downtown. They need another promoter to help host and I told them you’d be perfect.”

that seemed to have piqued his interest but not because he was excited or anything but because it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Another?”

unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice!

“Yes, the IG model and dancer, (y/n) (l/n) she’s also going to be there tonight. Girl’s a pretty big deal and apparently, she brought out a lot of people.”

he was somewhat familiar with the name but he despised social media as much as he despised hosting. Besides, if he’s seen one, he’s seen them all: shallow, vain, Barbie types with nothing more than a BBL and vibes.

it wasn’t so much the looks that bothered him because they were absolutely beautiful but it seemed as if the whole industry was opportunistic and weird at this point. Everyone looking for a come up and a moment without true work..

“What the hell, Mika? You know I hate that shit. And I have two other recording sessions—

“Not anymore! My job is to get you paid and let’s be honest, the last two artists you produced for weren’t exactly cash cows. How long do you think this whole mysterious antisocial act is going to last? Sad to say, but your time is dwindling, my guy.”

just then, he’d roll his eyes emerald green eyes and just shrug it off but for once, he wasn’t about to pout and whine his way out of this..she was right.

EJ was one of the most popular artists in the world and although he had a pretty loyal fanbase, a lot of them were growing impatient and with new stars being made every three to five business days, people who were true to their craft no longer felt as if they had a place and people no longer reserved patience for artists taking years at a time to put out projects..

and she didn’t want him to be one of them! He belonged here just like everyone else but he had to show up sometimes!

releasing a sigh of her own, Mikasa just shook her head and hoped that he’d listen for once.

“We all have things we don’t want to do but I’m asking for once, stop being so goddamned selfish and only thinking of what Eren wants. There’s a world beyond your own little bubble and a lot of people are dependent on you. We’ll both get a good cut from this so I’m begging you not to screw this up.”

as much as this pained him, he did owe her this much for putting up with his erratic behavior. Besides, he’s put up with far worse in the past!

reaching into the pockets of his black Nike Techs, he’d retrieve two items: a pre-rolled blunt and a black lighter with his initials inscribed on it in gold. If they wanted him to interact with the outside world, he had to calm his nerves first!

“Alright, alright!..I’ll be there, damn..”

getting irritated with her voice and this entire conversation and honestly, the feeling was mutual.

“Let me find out you didn’t show up, I’ll kick down the door to that little hobbit hole of yours and break everything in my sight. Got it?”

and one thing he knew not to do was doubt that she would be capable of such a thing! He’d assure her that he’d be there..

“Loud and clear, drill sergeant.”

“Good boy. I don’t want to have to have this conversation again."

and with that, she’d disconnect the other line.

it was safe to say, he wasn’t thrilled about any of this but maybe stepping outside of his comfort zone would be good..maybe. But only time would tell!

•••••••••

meanwhile, on another side of the city, there was someone else dealing with the exact dilemma as the introverted engineer..

"So when we finish here, the car should be arriving shortly after..we’ll get you over to the club, let you do a walkthrough, get you changed and then you know what to do from there.”

the voice of a wiry and vivacious woman sprouted off the itinerary without so much as a second thought, scrolling through her iPad with the tap of a finger. Wired frame glasses dangling from the bridge of her button nose and her blonde locks styled into that of a high bun.

she was the hardworking assistant and right hand to upcoming model, influencer and dancer, (Y/N) (L/N) or (social media name) to her followers.

over the past couple of years, the esteemed exotic dancer amassed quite the following by posting videos of yourself dancing to several popular songs, even performing live with a ton of artists on stage.

you were the leader of a country wide collective of other dancers known as the Pole Assassins, who performed incredible routines. You gained quite the notoriety and in no time flat, you rose to instant stardom as social media’s newest vixen.

it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but it was quite the culture shock for the twenty something instructor who was just sharing your art with the world, only to now be thrust into a life of crazy living and insane work.

to having tons of strangers hurl wild opinions and insults in your direction unprovoked. Not to mention the millions of prying eyes on your every move..it was insane!

if you weren’t modeling and being sponsored for the newest fast fashion brand or some newfound tea company hoping to hook buyers on their repackaged laxatives, you were attending parties at some nightclub; hosting and hyping the crowd for whatever performer was headlining.

tonight would be no different..except maybe one thing.

“Yeah, I got it. Thank you, honey. By the way, do you know who this other host is?”

the woman, sitting cross legged whilst various people patted at her face with makeup brushes and sponges. You looked flawless already but they had to ensure that every part you was nothing less than perfection.

normally, you worked solo to make these events as lively as possible but the person you were set to work with was apparently a pretty big deal. A huge name in the music world was making a rare appearance tonight at this new grand opening.

“You haven’t heard? It’s Eren Jaeger, EJ, the singer..well he’s more of a producer now. He’s actually gonna be DJ’ing and performing tonight!”

that’s when your eyes nearly popped from yourhead. Now that was a name you hadn’t heard in a long time but it wasn’t due to him being washed up or outdated, he was just such an enigma in the music world now.

akin to something like a Frank Ocean or SZA..keeping fans sitting on the edge of their seats, wondering when he’d drop his next project.

his voice was beautiful, nearly enchanting and you had even used a couple of his pieces in some of your videos, dancing along to the slow, seductive sounds of the melodies. On the same hand, he made some of the hardest rap tracks you’d ever heard. And yet, for someone who made such music and as attractive as he was, he preferred to stay out of the limelight.

it seemed almost counterproductive but you also understood.

in the not so distant past, you saw horror stories of grown women grabbing at his privates on stage when he was only eighteen, girls sending him inappropriate pictures and just being weird.

watch one interview and even a blind man could tell it made him uncomfortable. The whole sex symbol allure wasn’t his thing.

in some ways, you resonated with him. You knew all too well what it felt like having your true craft pushed to the wayside all so people could create their own narratives. Rather than being recognized for the years of hard work and dedication it took to master the art of pole..you were now seen as nothing more than a cookie cutter Insta model with a pretty face and no substance.

some days, you felt like tossing that damn phone in the ocean and never looking back!

regardless, even though you didn’t know him personally, it was an honor to be in the presence of a musical great.

“I’m shocked they could even afford to bring someone like him out. That’s a huge name.”

“Yeah, well you’d be surprised. I seriously doubt it was something he was thrilled to do but we’ll see.”

(Y/N) mirrored his sentiment honestly but work was work and they had to do whatever necessary to pay the bills. As for you, you’d down a couple shots of liquid courage, throw on a tight body con dress, highest heels and work the crowd as per usual.

you just hoped that your co-host wasn’t a jerk as the rumors claimed.

later that evening…

night had fallen cast over the city's skyline and the party was merely at its inception. Guests were lining up near the entrance, lined up and ready to get inside to rub elbows with their favorite celebrities. All dressed up and at their best.

however, they weren’t the only ones..

a blacked out Audi R8 had just circled around the side entrance and killed its engine. The matte lights went dim and suddenly the passenger side door opened. Bystanders whispered in speculation as to who was inside but their minds would not be left to wander much longer.

followed by sounds ‘oohs’ and ‘oh my gosh’s’, out stepped a man in clothing resembling that of his car; all black with the exception of some silver chains, rings and studs in his ears. Combat type boots and cargos with a cut off black shirt showing off his numerous tattoos, along with a vest type harness. (inspo)

but it was the signature brown hair styled into a half up-half down bun that gave away his identity and it took no time for the fans to react. Screaming women of every variety began trying to surpass the barricade to get to him but were held back by bouncers and he was shielded by his security, who were eager to handle anyone approaching him, as he gave a swift wave.

underneath his black mask, Eren would muster up a faint smile and try to be as social as possible..all while praying that he’d get through this night quickly. His emerald green eyes were already glazed over from the blunt he had finished before leaving home and trust that it was much needed.

he was more than ready for this to be over with so he’d make his way through the side door and into the lounge where he was greeted by his agent and the energetic owner.

“There he isss, the man of the hour. It’s really an honor, EJ. Thank you again for this! You have no idea how much it means..”

the high pitched voice and effervescent personality belonged to Zoe Hange, a very affluent and well known promoter who owned many successful clubs and lounges all over the country. To have such big stars on opening night was a testament to their work.

gratefulness aside, he wanted to go home but before he’d end up saying something stupid, Mikasa would interject and cover for him.

“Likewise. We’re very happy that you reached out. We’re looking forward to it, aren’t we?” Shooting the musician a stern glare to assure he answered correctly. “For sure.” responding flatly. However, what would follow later would shift his mood entirely.

the vibrant owner, sporting their red and black pantsuit would exclaim, clasping their hands together. “Ahh, wonderful! As you can see, our stage is just to your left and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what to do. Just make magic up there, my dear. As for your co-host, she should be arriving shortly and we can get this thing started!”

his patience and social battery was already wearing thin so he hoped for this host’s sake that she didn’t disappoint either. That's when the momentary silence was interrupted by the sound of clacking heels.

"Hi, everyone. Hope I'm not late.." the soft voice spoke out, causing everyone in the room to shift their heads towards the right side. In came a woman wearing a short white dress, cut off just above the knees, tall clear heels and thirty inches of jet black hair flowing to her thin waist. Beautiful dark skin and nearly flawless makeup…the type of girl that turned heads when she walked in.

to say she was stunning was an understatement...and Eren could hardly keep his eyes off of her; definitely a first for the less than friendly performer. It took a lot to get his attention. "Not at all, actually you're just on time. Please join us."

Zoe would declare, waving a hand to bring the woman over. "This is (y/n) (l/n) or as some of you may know her, (social media handle). She’ll be working with us tonight as well. I’m sure between the both of you, it’ll be one hell of a show. Just give my new baby a proper welcoming party.”

“She is also my newest client and I’m very excited to have her on board. Thank you again for doing this on such short notice..” Mikasa chimed in as she swooped in to wrap you up for a tight hug. “I wish all my talent were as cooperative and flexible as you..” shooting the ever so silent singer a glare, to which he’d scoff.

but when you looked in his direction, his eyes shifted a bit and his cheeks raised from underneath that face covering before he turned his head. Inside, you were fangirling and freaking out. But you knew how reserved he was, not to mention his already annoyed expression..so you didn’t want to come off as a clout chasing groupie.

one thing you had noticed was how much more toned and muscular he had gotten since his hiatus. This man was swole to say the least!

as much as it pained him, he was still a professional about the whole thing. He realized there was no point in taking out his frustrations on the girl just trying to do her job as well. That and the fact he was taken aback by how stunning you were. He may have been a recluse but he was still a man nonetheless.

“..I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan. So it’s really an honor. The Living Dead Boy mixtape is one of my all time favorites.” Truth be told, he didn’t know how to take your compliment because he wasn’t expecting that. Not for such a pretty girl such as yourself to even know his music. And considering that was one of his more underground projects..that was impressive! Now here he was blushing like a damn fool.

“I—uh..thank you. Well I guess I should go get set up. See you in a little bit. " bidding you all adieu before walking off towards the backstage area. You would've liked to think that you greeted him kindly but it seemed that he was no more impressed by you than he was anyone else.

"Don't worry too much about him. He just takes some getting used to, that's all. Deep down, he's really a sweetheart..when he wants to be that is.." Mikasa would reassure, flashing you a warming smile. Maybe so but you had no time to worry about personal feelings or ego, as the club doors were set to open any minute.

you’d make your way to the backstage as well, making any last minute touch ups to your makeup. You had about ten minutes before you’d be summoned so in that time, while you were getting your face patted, (y/n) thought silently to yourself about how things would go. What if this man really didn’t like you and things went south? The last thing you wanted was the gig to be unsuccessful. Suddenly, a stage tech would come and whisper for you, signaling that your cue was in about ten minutes or so. Sounds of music coming from the front, signaling that the club was officially opened for business.

things would undeniably be different as you’d have to command the crowd for the entire night and keep them entertained. Most of the time, you were more so of a side attraction to whoever was performing so it was time to break out of your own shell and really come into your own tonight.

now..it was time to go to work!

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

two hours later..

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

“Everybody having a good time tonight?!”

the voice echoing throughout the nightclub, courtesy of a microphone held by the one and only (y/n) (l/n) aka (social media name). Met back with loud cheering and applause. So far, everything was going exactly as planned. All the patrons having a good time, lots of energy, wonderful music and just an all around good vibe.

which was wonderful news for the owner, Ms. Hange, who was thrilled to see that another one of her clubs launched off with such success. She had obviously made the right call hiring the best talent agent in the country. As for you, you were thrilled that you were able to make this party as live as possible. But little did they know that it was only starting..

“Club Lapis, y’all been so good to me tonight. Showing me so much love and popping out. I see a couple of familiar faces from Instagram..hey girl!” which was true because once you posted the club flyer to your Instagram, a decent chuck of your almost one million followers tapped in that were in the area. There were a few gorgeous women that you followed as well who decided to show up off of your namesake alone. Obviously, holding more weight than you expected but influencers were the new idols, some would say. You had been snapping pictures, taking videos and singing along and dancing with a lot of people. They were amped and now, it was time to give them the real main event.

“So, because y’all been so good to me…I got a lil’ something I wanna do for y’all. A surprise for everybody..” some were already privy to what, or who rather was waiting but for those who didn’t, you’d give one hell of an introduction! “I was talking with this person backstage and they said they were a little nervous to be here tonight..and I’m thinking to myself, ‘the only one nervous is me. I’m in the presence of greatness..and a good looking ass man’.” Everybody cracking up at your little jokes because you were always naturally funny without trying, which was also part of your allure; something a lot of these insta models didn’t have. “Baby in the front here losing her mind, trust me, girl..I understand now.” One of which who was spotted earlier yelling for him as he walked in.

it was true..you had the honor of actually having a conversation with him prior to this and Ms. Ackerman was right..he was incredibly sweet once you got the chance to talk to him. That and the fact he was higher than giraffe pussy so he wasn’t as irritated and nervous as before! Regardless, he was so kind and even thanked you for hosting with him. Despite his personal feelings about these sort of things, he was a professional and knew he had to do a good job for not only his sake but yours as well. Besides, he really did thrive when performing. So you’d do the best job possible, hyping him to the crowd..

“Not that he needs an introduction..’cause he been popping his shit longer than I’ve been around. And for all my followers, y’all already know how I feel about this man and his music. We’ve been lucky enough to get him to come out for us tonight so y’all better make some fucking noise and show all the love for The Prince of Trap and B himself..the Underground’s Greatest…”

as you were in the middle of doting and giving your speech, the people would start going crazy. Girls in full blown tears, people screaming and jumping around..that’s when you’d look back to see the legend Eren Jaeger himself walking up behind you, brandishing a microphone and a smile on his face. He’s as charming and handsome as ever. “Well damn..don’t I feel special?” That ever so smooth voice ending shivers up your spine.

and it doesn’t help when he places his hand around your waist and look down at you. He really is every bit of the flirt his persona portrays..

“Miss (y/n), you keep talking about me like that and imma start blushing and shit..”

muttering into his mic as he cradled his palm around your waist. He better had stopped before he caused a problem he wasn’t ready for! The scent of his cologne wafting through your nostrils, his warmth against your body..you had met a million rappers, chopped it up with the industry’s biggest but something about this man felt so familiar and..comforting. Like the two of you could be friends. He didn’t treat you like a stranger or act all irritable like before. So you’d use it to play up the moment.

“I mean, I gotta let the people know..brag on you for a minute, boo.”

“Well, I ain’t mad about it, baby. But I guess I should give everybody what they came here for, right?”

his rhetorical question being met with a loud response from everywhere.

now, anyone who didn’t know any better would’ve sworn that you guys had not only known each other for years but had a little something on the low. That wasn’t the case, even in the slightest. Honestly, with you, it felt natural and you just worked well together.

Outside of the little exchange backstage of how things would go and the two of you properly introducing yourselves, there wasn’t much else to indicate that he was cool with you but such was life and industry politics. People played pretend all the time for a check..something you learned fairly on.

however, something he said to you did stick as he noticed you fidgeting with one of your brushes, a sure sign of your anxiety about being a lead host tonight.

“Yeah, I don’t care much for any of this..the whole club scene like that. Truth is, I rather be anywhere else but I gotta get my money and something tells me you would too..so, let’s make the best of it and get this bag together.”

you were appreciative of his kind words and assurance that you weren’t alone in this. It was going to be fine as long as the two of you had fun. He even offered you a hit of his blunt to calm your nerves.

but either way, now, it was his turn to take over!

“Then I’ll just step over here to the side and let you handle your business—“ but as you were walking off the stage, he’d flash you a smile and wink. “Y’all give it up for the ever so lovely…and beautiful (y/n). She really has done a great job tonight.” Sending your heart fluttering and butterflies all throughout your stomach. Why was this man playing so much?! Nonetheless, you were flattered all the same and you’d blow a kiss to him; watching your hips sway as you walked off the stage.

the energy and chemistry between you two was insane and the crowd absolutely loved it! Because y’all were enjoying yourselves, so was everyone else and that’s what mattered!

considering you were just as big of a fan as everyone else, you were excited to watch him perform. Taking a glance back at his DJ, they’d have a little exchange and he’d really start to blossom; like the stage was where he came to life and nothing else mattered except the music. “Play that shit.” As soon as he gave the signal and that track dropped, the whole place went crazy! It was one of his most popular songs, 1st Degree, and most energetic. It was a trap song and you had heard it played everywhere when it first came out. In a matter of minutes, he’s hopping around in stage and going off. The crowd singing it louder than he was at some point.

pointing the mic out to them, they’d scream his lyrics back at him in intervals and he’d just laugh because seeing a bunch of bad bitches yell about gun violence and drugs was so funny. Including (y/n)..he couldn’t believe everyone still fucked with him this heavily. By the time, he finished, Eren would be met with loud screams and chants. Laughing, he’d cup his microphone and move across the stage, engaging with everyone.

“DJ, did you hear that? They were going harder than me!..what the fuck?”

to say he was impressed, was an understatement. He had never imagined that after all these years, he still had this kind of impact. Some people would try and downplay or talk shit about the fact that he was in a venue like this but for someone who was over the pressures of performing, this felt much more intimate.

he’d rather have a hundred loyal fans than thousands of people pretending to know his lyrics and stand there with their phones out. Right now, he was really feeling himself and although you had just met, as a long time fan, you were happy for him. Happy that he was so well received by the audience and not being made uncomfortable. This really was his element.

the show would go on and he’d do a few more songs, this time some of the ones where he was singing, which you personally preferred. This man’s voice was something serious…many of times had you constructed pole routine to his sensual lyrics. However, that’s when he done something a tad bit unexpected.. “Alright, so for this last song..we’re about to get a little sexy. On that demon time, as they say..”

everyone immediately laughing and knowing exactly what track he was referring to…the one that had women going crazy for months and men using it to spit game. It was the first time he had ever made a love song and needless to say, the internet went stupid. It was so freaky that the blog sites were talking shit. That’s when he knew he had a hit on his hands..

suddenly, the lights would dim and the entire vibe would change.

“Club Lapis, I’m in such a good mood tonight. I ain’t gone lie to y’all, I was a little nervous to come here, but I feel the love…so I’m gonna do a little something special. I feel like serenading somebody’s daughter.”

the entire place erupted in screams and women pointing to be chosen. “A couple of you are here with your man, I don’t want no problems tonight.” But Eren had already clearly had his mind on one person in particular..and it was no question. Flashing a big toothy smile, he’d direct his attention over towards the right before singling his sights on the far corner.

“Miss (y/n)..if you’d do me the honor of bringing your fine ass back up to the stage, please..”

‘oohs’ and ‘aah’s’ sparking immediately after. Your cheeks began to burn something fierce…Eren fucking Jaeger was up on stage, flirting with you! This did not feel real whatsoever. Regardless, you made your way back up there. You’d look over to see people breaking their thumbs, sending out a plethora of tweets.

climbing the steps, he’d assist you with an extended hand. Right there underneath the beaming spotlights, the two of you would lightly clutch fingers as he stood there, smiling. Seeing him up close was like a dream. The fantasy of many fangirls who’d fawned over him since his debut and here you were getting the first hand experience. Those piercing green eyes glaring right into your own and sending your heart racing.

finally, the instrumental would begin to play and Eren began to belt out the tune. As per, he sounded amazing; those lyrics making things just that much better..talking about fucking until the bed broke, making movies and making her wet. Whoever the inspiration was behind that song was one lucky ass bitch! Pining over to the crowd, he’d let the lovely bunch of ladies huddled at the front of the stage mimic the song back to him before taking over the next verse and just for the occasion, he had slightly altered the words.

“Know I said that I can’t stay with you, no I can’t make you my wife but (y/n), if you let me in it, I swear I’ll change your life.”

crooning before running his finger underneath your chin.

sending the crowd into a frenzy. Mainly because everyone could see how fast you were folding on that stage, after having been so poised and professional all night! One thing stood true; he may not have been that way in real life, but EJ the stage persona was a whole slut and a half! No wonder the podcaster bitch boys talked so much about him. He had their dream girls about to faint.

once the song reached its conclusion, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. But he knew he better had booked it to the back before somebody’s hormonal girlfriend rushed the stage.

“Thank you Club Lapis, goodnight!”

leaving to a loud chant of his name, thunderous claps and cheers. Ending on a high note if he had to say so himself. Right now, he was on a cloud that he didn’t want to come down from and he had the perfect way to remain there.

meanwhile, (y/n) would address the audience once more, thanking them for such a wonderful evening, being so nice to both of them, to be safe and enjoy the rest of their night here. Once that was done and the DJ proceeded to resume his regular track list, you were since again stopped by fans and patrons alike, asking for pictures and saying how jealous they were that you were being sang to like that.

trust, it wasn’t something that you were expecting either but you played your role well. Now it was time to relax with a few drinks.

Ms. Hange had took the liberty of reserving VIP for the two of you once the show ended to unwind with complimentary and unlimited bottle service. You weren’t a heavy drinker by any means but why not take advantage?

honestly, once the adrenaline of the moment wore off, you grew fatigued. All of the stimulation of the loud noises and screaming people was a bit much. However, you had to fulfill your obligations.

ten minutes or so passed and it seemed that you’d be unwinding on your own..that was until you heard a familiar voice. “So this is where my beautiful co-host ran off to..”

it was the star himself and he seemed to be sporting a new outfit.. still all black with those silver chains dangling around his neck. He looked good, which was no surprise. As he kneeled to sit down, he’d scoop you in a tight hug in one fell swoop. At this point, there was no question of what his feelings were towards you. He could’ve easily dipped and had his security get him up out of here but he stayed.

“God, you sounded amazing up there! I never thought I’d get to hear the great EJ The Don in person.” Blushing at the mention of just one of his many stage names, that one being more so his producer tag. Truthfully, he just went up there and done what he enjoyed the most..sharing his music with the world.

as he took a seat next to you, he’d pour up a glass of vodka, matching your own. Casually shrugging his shoulders, he’d swirl it around a bit before knocking back a sip. “Just doing my job, that’s all. I gotta say, you did your thing too. Told you, you’d be fine.” Being reaffirmed by someone so iconic was the highest of compliments.

“I’d say you did more than that. I ain’t mad though.” Smirking in his direction before drinking from your own glass and giving him a side eye. It seemed that he was comfortable enough for you two make jokes and honestly, he had never felt that way about anyone, less known someone he had only met. Maybe it was the courage of being crossfaded but Eren truly felt at ease around you for some reason.

and you mirrored that sentiment. It wasn’t uncommon for these gigs to go left when some artist decided to get too handsy or be disrespectful of your boundaries but that wasn’t the case here. He was so sweet and down to earth.

“Aye, you said let’s entertain them so that’s what I did. Besides, you standing up there, looking all cute and shit..I couldn’t help it.” Before long, the pair was laughing and giggling, chopping it up as if no one else was around. The flirtatious tension was getting out of hand!

“You mind if I scoot a little closer, miss (y/n)? I don’t want to get in your personal space.”

“Go right ahead.” eventually letting him drape his arm around the back of the couch and move a couple inches towards you. Being all cozied up to a superstar like him was surreal and people would most certainly have their fair share of opinions and commentary, you were certain.

nonetheless, the evening continued on as normal. The two of you talking as if you’ve known each other for a long time. Rather than bore you with stories of how he got his start that could be found with a simple YouTube search of his interviews, he wanted to hear your background. He only knew of you through social media circulation but he figured there had to be more to the illustrious (social media name).

“So I gotta ask..how in the hell did you manage to get tangled up with mad woman Mikasa and let her talk to you into this?”

when you began to gain a little more notoriety, it was only natural to get an agent to help capitalize on this newfound fame and get the real money coming in. She didn’t have her reputation for nothing..Ms. Ackerman worked harder than the devil himself and she didn’t hesitate to take care of you so when she decided to team you two you up, little did they know just how much of a genius she was.

so that’s when you told him about your journey through learning pole, going on tour with a bunch of different artists and serving as a backup dancer. It was a lot of fun but outside of work, you never made it your business to be chummy with your cohorts. You done the job you are paid for and then went on about your business. It was lonely but for the best, considering how weird some folks moved.

and Eren felt the same. He didn’t have many friends in this industry. Hell, it was almost ironic because the fans adored him but a lot of fellow artists didn’t really have much to say about him as a person. Sure, they respected his craft but he didn’t make it his mission to get close to anyone..until now.

you definitely had his interest piqued, to say the least! Having a conversation with (y/n) was somewhat refreshing. You weren’t another groupie trying to play in his face or look for a come up. You didn’t treat him like you were trying to kiss his ass or anyone else’s..it was just a normal vibe and one he hadn’t shared with someone in a long time..so much so, that you had this man laughing and smiling like a fool. Maybe this whole gig wasn’t a bad idea!

“Wait a minute, you’re friends with Jean Kirschtein? I danced at one of his shows in Chicago last year.”

“Friends is a strong word, I prefer pain in the ass. No offense, but dude gets on my fucking nerves.”

the bold statement sending you doubling over in laughter. Not because you didn’t like the rock singer, he was actually very nice but the fact that he was just spilling all types of tea to you as if you guys were best friends! That’s when he explained that they were signed to the same label for a while and that he was actually engaged to his best friend and manager, Mikasa. Literally the only reason he tolerated him.

“Well damn. Can’t say I blame you..some people in this business will turn you against it real fast. Of course, I’m sure you’re the last person I have to tell that, but then there’s others who are…really sweet.”

swirling your fingertip around the perimeter of your glass as you shot him a glare, as well as a warm smile. One that made his cheeks immediately glow red, even under the fluorescent lighting. It was adorable..

scooting a bit closer, he’d glare down at your smaller frame and curl his tongue across his top row of teeth. This man was dangerously handsome that it made no sense whatsoever! “I agree..it’s not so bad all the time.” For a moment, you two were locked in an intense gaze; one that wasn’t typical of complete strangers but here you were!

suddenly, the eye contact was broken when he’d turn his head to the side and whisper something to you. “I think they’re staring at us..” referring to the group of girls pointing with their cellphones out, jumping up and down as if they were a couple of TMZ reporters getting the latest scoop.

this was the sole reason he despised being out in public, because this is what it always resulted in. Cue the hundreds of messages from nosy ass bloggers and messy people trying to get in his business but tonight? He was in a bit of a mood to match their energy and hopefully shoot his shot! Luckily, you were on the same type time he was..

“I think they are..wonder what they’re up to?..” questioning rhetorically with the coyest smirk on your face. It was insane how equally yoked you both were in just this short amount of time. But he had an idea that would really have them going crazy.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, miss (y/n)?” and it went without saying that you most certainly were. This liquor and weed had the two of you playing a very dangerous game but what was the worst that could happen? Hell, blow up the internet for all of twenty four hours before they fixated on something else? He needed a little excitement in his life..had been a while since he caused some controversy!

giving him a nod, you’d shift in your seat to stare right at one another. The chemistry was undeniable and as someone who was in a position that half the bitches here would murder for..you didn’t turn down the opportunity! Leaning over, Eren nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck; his breath causing the minuscule hairs to rise on your skin.

his right hand resting gently on your thigh but not moving too far up to where you’d be uncomfortable and proceeded to pretend he was kissing you. “Just play along..let’s give their asses something to talk about.”

breaking into a toothy smile, (y/n) shook your head and bit your lip at the feeling of this man’s hands on you for the second time tonight. “Mr. Jaeger, you are something else, you know that?” But like clockwork, flashes would begin to flicker from every iPhone in the vicinity. Even hearing a few people muttering..you most certainly had never experienced anything like this before!

“I’ve heard worse said about me..”

the last thing you needed was for everyone to spin the rumor mill that you were fucking rappers now but honestly, you wouldn’t know how to act if he really did kiss you, less known done anything else. But somehow, you didn’t care..you were really enjoying yourself. And honestly, didn’t want this night to come to an end. So your ever so charming cohort would make another suggestion..

“Y’know, I’m a little over all this and if I’m not mistaken, we’ve fulfilled our obligation for the night. So if you don’t have any plans, how ‘bout we go chill somewhere else? That’s if..I’m not being too forward or nothing..”

offering as he stood to his feet, stretching out his muscles before extending his hand yet again.

normally, you’d decline with the quickness and say you were tired but something told you, you’d be missing out on a good time if you did. And that he’d be super disappointed as well. So, you done exactly what you felt was right…

“Not at all..”

accepting his grasp, he’d help you to stand and keep your footing; continuing the theme of being an absolute gentleman. Time to keep the party going in a much more private manner.

“You just lead the way..”

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

tag list: @vixxennxx @bisexualfenty @whorrorifics @potofstewie @daisynik7 @hoohoohope @chickenwingsandfries3425

#attack on titan au #eren x black reader #eren fanfiction #fanfic #musician au #eren au #eren jaeger #attack on titan #eren aot #black female characters #black reader #black fem reader #black y/n #x black reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot au #singer au #aot x black reader #anime #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #wattpad #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot x y/n #aot boys #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x black !fem reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x reader

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 14 - Masturbation

The big Austrian man!! :D König is one of my favorite operators in CoD and I can never decide which I like more: "fanon" König or actual, cold-blooded killer König. Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure this is alright schatz?” You could tell König was on high alert from the moment you brought him into your flat. It was rare that he got a moment’s respite in the field, and shore leave was even more rare since joining up with KorTac. In front of others, you were nothing more than his subordinate. But here? Was a different story.

You couldn’t help but smile sadly at your lover. You could see him trying so so hard to let his guard down and actually relax with you in your home, a place only you know. “Of course it is love,” you tell him softly. “I actually had an idea, if that’s okay by you?”

König tilts his head, beautiful blue eyes looking to you with such trust and adoration. It made your heart swell with the amount of trust this absolute behemoth of a man was placing in you. On the battle field, you knew he as your colonel had your back. But in down time, without that mask of authority? He was a lost puppy, following whoever he trusted most. And that person was you.

You led him to your bed, suddenly very thankful for your choice of a king sized mattress. Before settling across from him, you slowly began to strip. You watched the Austrian man for any signs that he would be uncomfortable. Granted, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen you naked, and gods willing, it wouldn’t be the last.

Sapphire eyes widened and you could see the edges of his balaklava soften with a pink hue. You sat beside him them, skin rubbing against the fabric of his cargo pants. Derobing from military attire was always a bit difficult for him, and this instance was no exception. 

“W-was are you doing?” König asks you softly, unsure of where to settle his eyes. You watched them flicker around in a panic; your sex, your eyes, your body, back to your eyes again. It was a little cute if you were entirely honest.

“Have you not heard of getting off to unwind?” You ask, a slightly teasing tone to your voice. You give a sly smirk as on hand lays across your sex. You sigh softly as you start to slowly pleasure yourself, head lolling to the side to rest on his shoulder. “Join me love.”

You can see the wheels turning in your colonel’s mind. It wasn’t for lack of trust, be he had trouble telling sometimes if you were serious or not. Massive hands come to undo his zipper at a snail’s pace. 

König pulls his member out, and you smile knowingly at him when you see it half hard. You knew the effects your body had on him, and this time was no exception. Hell the only time you’d really seen his face was during a body worship session.

Memories of heated kisses across  your skin play in your head, thus creating more arousal. You sigh again, this time more of a moan as you hide your face against your Austrian lover’s shoulder. You can hear the telltale noises of him starting to stroke his member in time with your own movements.

“Schiße,” König groans, more to himself than you. “I love seeing you like this maus. So open for me, so trusting.” You whimper softly, eyes screwing shut as a new kind of pleasure blossoms from your sex. “So vulnerable.”

The words are right against your ear, hot and sultry. You can tell he’s removed his mask a bit, and that’s exasperated by the feel of a hot tongue against your neck. “Mmh!” You whine, your pace picking up. 

Your skin felt aflame, burning with arousal. You hear König match your movements, loving the way you melt beneath him. For all that innocence and, quite frankly, babygirl energy, you knew who held dominance in the bedroom. 

“Getting close liebe?” The man purrs in your ear. He wasn’t wrong, you absolutely were. Your pace was losing it’s rhythm and becoming more erratic. Despite all his teasing, you could hear the sound of his own strokes picking up in pace. A low growl against your skin has you teetering on the edge.

“Fall apart for me liebling.”

And that was all it took for you to crumble, legs squeezing together as your peak makes a mess across your fingers. The pressure of you against him and sight of your arousal has König huffing little moans of his own. You feel his hand dip down across your oversensitive sex, swiping a bit of your mess onto his digits to lick off.

Another feral growl-like moan, and he too is coming undone. You watch those lovely baby blues roll back into his head a bit as he comes, back arched ever so slightly off the mound of pillows at the head of your bed. You praise him quietly, kissing along his shoulder where you could reach as he comes down from his orgasm, chest heaving.

You offer him a satisfied smile when he finally opens his eyes again. “See, told you that’d help you relax,” you tell him, feeling rather triumphant. The Austrian smirks, and before you know it, you’re on your back, caged in by his arms.

“I can think a few other ways to relax, you know.”

#bat writes #cod smut #konig x reader #konig smut #cod x reader

[blurredcolour]

In The Bleak Mid-Winter

[One-shot]

Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader

No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.

Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.

Word Count: 6171

————————————-

December 29, 1944 - Bastogne

“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”

Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.

Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.

“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”

“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”

The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.

With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.

Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.

You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.

The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.

“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.

“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”

The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.

Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.

Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.

The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.

“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.

Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.

“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.

He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.

“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.

You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.

“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”

The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.

“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.

“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”

You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.

“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”

The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.

The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.

Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.

“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.

“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.

You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”

You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.

“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.

Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.

“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”

Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.

“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”

“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.

Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”

“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.

“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.

General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’

Nuts, indeed.

You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.

What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.

By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.

Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.

“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.

“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.

You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.

“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.

His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.

“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.

“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”

You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.

Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.

You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”

“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.

“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.

You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”

“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.

“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.

“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.

“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.

“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.

It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.

He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.

“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.

He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.

“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”

You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.

“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.

“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”

You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”

“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.

“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.

“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.

One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.

You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.

Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.

The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.

Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.

If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.

“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.

“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.

You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.

“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”

He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.

“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.

“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.

“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.

“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.

“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”

He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”

“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.

“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.

“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”

A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”

Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.

After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.

“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.

His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.

Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.

“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.

“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.

He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.

“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”

He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.

“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.

Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.

“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.

“And his own Sergeant!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.

All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.

“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”

His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.

Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.

Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.

“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.

“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.

“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.

Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.

The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.

Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.

Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.

“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.

He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.

Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.

A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.

He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.

Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.

“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.

“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.

He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.

Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.

Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.

“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.

It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.

“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.

You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.

“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.

It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.

“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”

“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.

Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.

————————————-

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky

Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!

#ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs fanfic #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #band of brothers smut #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers

[avelera]

The Doylist Argument for Crowley Being An Important Angel (Pre-Fall)

So I just read a great essay on all the arguments for why Crowley is Raphael by @cyan-cirby and rather than subjecting them to attaching my long-winded additions directly onto their post, figured I'd make my own.

(As a quick aside, I do think Crowley was probably Raphael specifically. It's just too big of an omission of archangels that People Have Actually Heard Of to include Gabriel and Michael, and then jump to lesser known archangel names like Uriel, then totally obscure names like Sandalphon while skipping Raphael, a goddamn Ninja Turtle of well-known archangel names. And I don't think Crowley was Lucifer because Satan is already a character and Neil point-blank said Satan and Lucifer are the same person, otherwise it's too confusing (never mind other evidence like that Crowley referred to Lucifer in the 3rd person in S1, but I digress).)

Anyway! There's plenty of fantastic essays like the one I shared above that go into the fresh new Season 2 evidence for why Crowley was Raphael or at the very least important and high-ranked before he Fell. But I'm a fresh (and still primarily) denizen of the other Neil Gaiman Recent TV Show Adaptation of The Sandman so I want to delve into why Crowley was An Important Angel because that's just how Gaiman writes.

- Crowley is the more Gaiman-y of the two characters and Aziraphale the more Pratchett-y. I’m not making this up from nothing, Pratchett and Gaiman have taken photos and done promotions for the Good Omens book where they modeled themselves that way and basically cosplayed those characters respectively.

- I'm a Pratchett Super Fan first and foremost and can say with some authority that Pratchett tends to write Normal People. Even his Special People are Normal People who have to put their socks on one at a time in the morning. However, his Normal People do Special Things. That's the point. He truly believes, deep down in his bones, in equality and it shows in his portrayal of his protagonists as normal people who rise to an extraordinary occasion.

-Aziraphale is Pratchett's angel in Good Omens and it follows from that that Aziraphale is a Normal Angel doing extraordinary things (defying Heaven’s will to save the world). It aligns with Pratchett's general writerly sensibilities that his angel who saves the world is just a normal low-ranked angel, nothing special by birth, who is fussy and imperfect but nevertheless rises to the challenge to do incredible things in a comedic way. That's how Pratchett's protagonists work.

- Gaiman writes Special People. Dream/Morpheus and the other Endless are born Special People. Rose in Sandman learns she is born Special. Shadow in American Gods learns he was born Special.

- Gaiman very often writes about protagonists who are mythological and/or magical and thus who are super powerful by birth. They are generally only limited either by their own emotional immaturity or by Cosmic Rules.

-Gaiman has also, on more than one occasion, inserted a character who rather resembles him and mirrors his sartorial choices of wearing all black into the story as a protagonist and then made them a Cool Character. Not a criticism, just sayin’, Dream/Morpheus and Crowley come from the same era in his career.

My point is, Crowley is the Gaiman character so, in my opinion, especially when you combine this hunch with the new lore additions in S2, there are some past authorial choices and sensibilities that lead me to believe that with sole creative control of Crowley’s arc and character background, as well Pratchett’s tacit collaborator blessing since this is Gaiman’s Character, we’re going to see a default to old habits and a continuation of this trend because authors are people and they tend to have their way of doing things.

Which is why I think we're going to learn that Crowley Is Special By Birth (being an archangel), super overpowered (like Dream), and only limited in achieving what he wants by Cosmic Rules and being emotionally stunted.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #spoilers #good omens meta #crowley #the sandman

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Okay so since there’s soooo much fucking transphobia rampant, here’s a post for those of you who either are Christian and/or surrounded by Christian queerphobes. Here’s a list of rebuttals to when they start talking about how being trans is ungodly.

Most of these rebuttals are religious as that is the base they will be arguing from; however I did include  bit of a science to make their heads spin.

“Genesis also says that God made morning and evening. Are morning and evening strictly binary? Is there nothing inbetween? Can you define 'morning'? How about the binary of darkness and light?”

“So if we're born the gender we are, what are intersex people?” [when they inevitably say there's just "so few of them"] “There are more intersex people than there are redheads. 1.7% of the population are Intersex, while roughly 1.5% are redheads. Does that mean that redheads do not 'count' when discussing hair color?”

[to “God doesn't make mistakes”] “Yes, of course. They just do impossible things. After all, if God could put a baby into a virgin, or could bring life to the dead, why could they not put a boy's soul into a girl's body, or vice versa?”

Feel free to also say “God literally made such a mistake with all humanity that they flooded the planet.”

This line is from a Jewish source, Something That May Shock and Discredit You by Daniel Mallory Ortberg: “As my friend Julian puts it, only half winkingly: 'God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.'”

Galatians 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.“

If they're using the Deuteronomy verse (22:5, about not crossdressing or w/e), know that line is mistranslated. Quoting https://hoperemainsonline.com/index.php/transgender/, “A more literal translation from Hebrew reads 'The weapon of a warrior shall not be on a woman, nor shall a warrior put on the robe of a woman, for all who do these things are a hateful thing to the LORD thy God.' The word “robe” is translated from the Hebrew word simlah, which was a garment worn by both sexes. Clearly, this cannot be referring to cross-dressing. What could it be referring to then? A much more likely answer to that question is that it is about ritual purity and the mixing of blood. Both warrior’s swords and women’s garments would get blood on them, one from battle and the other from menstruation. To have a man wear the robe of a woman, or vice versa, would mix blood, which was considered an abomination under the law.”

Similar mistranslations result in the homophobic verses they spew as well. just browse through hoperemains for some inspo

This last one is long, but it talks about how all humans, including women, were created in God's image; therefore, God is both male and female. If it's wrong for humans to be, why is God enby themself? 

From The Africana Bible, edited by Hugh R Page Jr:

“The term occasionally translated as 'human beings' in the NRSV and generally as "man" in most other English versions is  'adam or ha'adam. Now this is clearly not a personal name (that is, Adam) as the KJV ill-advisedly begins to indicate at about Gen. 2:19. A better translation of this term, however, would be “the earthling” since the term is derived from the term ‘adamah, meaning “land” or “earth.” Such a translation clarifies better than “man” or even “human being” that the original intent of the author is to emphasize that God made “earthlings” as a whole, not just males, in God’s image[...]”

[...]“Such a translation takes into consideration that the term ‘adam is meant to function as a collective term referring to both the male and the female. Thus, we should note that ‘adam here is not a name or an ascription of gender but a collective term for “earthlings” in general; this is emphasized by the author’s choice of the plural pronoun ‘otham, and the use of the plural verbs veyirddu and urdu, meaning in 1:26 and 1:28, 'let THEM have dominion,' further reiterates the inclusive nature of the term ‘adam. [...] In Genesis 1 and 2, both genders were created with equal expressions of God’s image, equal authority over the earth, and equal value as human beings.”

#transphobia / #transphobia m / #christianity #christian #mine

[kiirotoao]

Elmax is actually pretty wonderful the more I think about them.

El, for practically all her conscious life, has been taught to do things against her will: strengthening her powers, finding the demogorgon/Henry, staying shut in at home for secrecy (and no hate to Hopper for this. I get that he’s trying to protect her, but it’s stifling nonetheless which is why I include it to consideration). And while I really love the way that Owens treated her in season 4 and gave her the choice to rekindle her powers or let it go, the stakes were pretty insane, and above all, it still involved her powers which she was forced to obtain.

But Max. Max is the only person who’s given El a chance to be herself. “Not Hopper, not Mike, you.” She takes away all sense of authority that puppeteers her, putting the strings back in El’s own hands. And when El does occasionally use her powers, it’s to pull pranks - nothing that ever puts her or others in harm’s way - not to mention that Max doesn’t ask her to carry the world with them. Of course, when things got serious, El went back into savior mode, but for the very first time, for even a day, Max was able to give El the liberty to do what she wanted and explore what she liked. And once again, no, Max didn’t give her everything, but with the town they lived in, with the opportunities they had, going to the mall is actually such a fun place to be. It’s a marker of girlhood to go on a shopping spree if you ask me.

What makes this most apparent to me is that Max is one of the most independent characters. We don’t really see her parents, never get to see her actually interacting with them besides glimpses of her mom in season 4, and Billy very clearly didn’t provide much for her besides the occasional car ride. She’s the perfect character to support El, and the stance of independence that Max has made a perfect lead-in to show El being supported by her and having fun with her as she, too, learned what independence meant for her. I don’t know if this was intentional by the Duffers to write the climax of events to be July 4th, Independence Day to tie in this theme, but if so, it’s incredible.

I love Max and I love how quickly she took El in. Even after failing to be properly introduced last season, did she hold that against El? Nope. She saw her girl in trouble, took her in, and even dared to expand her horizons. And on the flip side, I love how El immediately turned to Max when she was broken up with. She knew where to get solid advice and Max truly didn’t hold anything good back from her. And thus, their relationship was born. It took no time at all for them to click. And that’s sweet as hell.

In short, Max is awesome, El is incredible, and they deserve to have more moments together next season or so help me.

#elmax #elmax analysis #do they have an analysis tag it didn’t show up 😲 #eleven hopper #eleven stranger things #max mayfield #stranger things 3 #stranger things analysis

[nox140497]

07. You're an idiot you know that?

Authors Note: Ok, so this was an idea from SandoraMidoriya, and I think it's a cool idea, and it inspired me to write this, so thank you!☺

---------------------------

Y/n's P.O.V

It's been a couple months since Jason started to go out with us, and I really could not be prouder of my two little birds really I couldn't, and I love them more than anything in the world. Other than Bruce, obviously.

But on days like these.

Days like these that I truly want to strangle them and question my choices in life.

*Sigh*

Let me explain.

Ok, so us being members of the league means that our boys have met the children of the other leaguers. Now, for some reason Dick has formed a brotherly bond with the children/sidekicks/prodegés of Flash, aka Barry Allen, and Green Arrow, aka Oliver Queen

One Walace Rudolph West and one Roy William Harper.

Now I love these boys as my own, I do, but when the three are together, it usually ends in some kind of disaster.

And Thus,

we get to my current situation. The three of them figured that it was a good idea for Dick to teach the gingers how to do some tricks.

What's the problem with that, you may ask?

The thought it would be best to do it near one of the second floor windows.

The first thing I heard was the shattering of glass and then three screams of my oldests name, and in a flash (hehe sorry I had to) both Bruce and I were upstairs looking through the now broken window down at my bloody and probably broken eldest bird laying on the ground two stories down. I blinked a few times before I snapped out of it and sprinted back down the stairs and out the door. When I got to him, I fell to my knees and checked for a pulse. I found one and sighed in relief before hearing footsteps behind me. Looking behind me, I watched as Alfred came over and picked Dick up and took him inside and down to the cave. I was slightly paniced, but I also knew that Alfred would kick me out if I followed him, so I turned to the three panicing kids and walked over to them.

"He's gonna be ok, boys." I murmurred softly to them as I took all three in my arms.

Wally and Jay sniffed and nuzzled closer. I sighed as I slid my fingers through Roys hair, knowing he wasn't very fond of affection.

-------Time skip to when Dick wakes up-------------------

I walked into the room where the boys were all gathered. I leaned on the doorframe, taking in the scene of my youngest cuddling up to his big brother and the gingers on each side of his bed.

With arms crossed, I made my presence known to the boys.

"Now that I know you're all alive and in mostly one piece, does someone want to explain to me why you four thought that it was a good idea to practice infront of a SECOND STORY WINDOW!!???!?!" I asked, yelling at the end and glaring at them.

They all looked sheepish and remained silent. I sighed and walked over.

"Boys, I'm not mad about the window. Hell, Bruce is already organising it to get replaced. But boys, we CANNOT replace the four of you. You mean the world to Bruce and I. He doesn't always show it, but he loves you boys. All of you. Not to mention your parents. Boys, if something were to happen to you, we would not be able to forgive ourselves." I said in a soft, gentle voice.

"We're sorry, Mamma." All four boys said in unison, all looking down. I sighed softly and then smiled softly at them.

"Alright, you menaces, how about we go up and drag B out of his ofice to whatch a movie." I said, and all four boys perked up and nodded. I chuckled and helped Dick up off the bed and up the stairs.

The rest of the day was spent watching movies and eating pizza.

#batman #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #batboys #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #batmom

[ppangjae]

FIVE PLUS ONE | JAEHYUN

SYNOPSIS. Five times world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun tried to end your journey to be a chef  because you weren’t ‘qualified enough to be a chef’ and that one time you proved him wrong. 

—or: your villain story quite literally 

PAIRING. jaehyun x fem!reader

GENRE. fluff | angst | enemies to lovers!au | chef!jaehyun | aspiring chef!reader

WORD COUNT. 28.8k+ words (is this my new record? omg)

author's note. i posted a long time ago about how i must write a chef!jae fic and now, here she is. i'm so sorry for such a long wait (and all those postponements oop) but i'm glad that she's finally done and posted for you to enjoy reading! i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it :-) also pls reading the author’s note at the end for all my thoughts about writing this fic! happy reading~

THE FIRST TIME.

The first time you and world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun crossed paths was when you were doing your culinary internship at Enoteca Pinchiorri in Florence, Italy. In fact, you had no idea who Jeong Jaehyun was. It was your second day of internship at the Michelin-starred restaurant and because you needed a bit more time to adjust to the new working environment, you worked as a waitress. You had no customer complaints about working as a waitress for the first week and had agreed it was the best way for you to get accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. While you had no idea who Jeong Jaehyun was at the time, he made sure you knew who exactly he was when you had accidentally stumbled over your two feet and spilled his glass of Barolo all over his cream-coloured button-up shirt.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, looking at him with extreme horror all over your face. Your knees were planted onto the red carpet floors, and you were too horrified and embarrassed to bring yourself back up onto your own two feet. You would rather be sucked into the red carpet floors and the pits of darkness, never to be seen again. Slowly looking up at him, he stares down at his stained shirt before meeting your gaze.

Your blood has never run cold until that very moment. He reads your name on your name tag with a piercing gaze before muttering. “Please get back up. You’re just creating a scene and humiliating yourself even more by gathering attention from other customers—”

“Oh, mi dispiace! Here’s a napkin, Mr. Jeong!” The executive chef, Alessandro, rushes over to the two of you with a large napkin. You’re not sure if you should be relieved to have Alessandro come in to save yourself from the embarrassment, especially with Mr. Jeong staring straight at you with eyes like shooting daggers. You’ve settled on standing behind Alessandro, feeling completely ashamed and embarrassed of yourself. 

“Is she new?” Mr. Jeong asks, burning two holes through your forehead with his dark brown eyes. With your head hanging low, you could only momentarily distract yourself by noticing that the heel of your two-inch black high heels has completely broken off. 

Great. You had just bought these high heels, and they've already broken. You’re left with no choice but to glue the broken heel back on. 

“Yes, she’s new. I apologize, Mr. Jeong. She’s still in training, and thus, she’s a little flustered," Alessandro explains. You don’t have the strength to look at any of them, but the damage has already been done. You’re no superhero with the power to turn back time and undo mistakes. Although, you wish you did have those superpowers at this very moment.

Your conscience forces you to do what you’re supposed to do. First, apologize. Second, make an offer to clean up the spill. Three, offer compensation after consulting Alessandro with ideas. Four, scan the tables around and apologize for the commotion. You learned this in culinary school. You draw in a deep breath, stepping towards Alessandro’s side and forcing yourself to look at Mr. Jeong.

That piercing gaze… that stone-cold face… You wonder who did him so dirty to be so cold-hearted. 

“I apologize, Mr. Jeong. The mess will be cleaned up and we’ll get you a new glass of Barolo. In compensation—” You begin until Alessandro decides to finish it for you.

“In compensation, your main course will be on the house. We deeply apologize, Mr. Jeong.” Alessandro bows and you take it as your cue to bow with him.

Mr. Jeong slowly nods his head. You can still feel his burning stare. Who is he? Why is he being acknowledged with such high regard? Mr. Jeong mumbles, “no worries, do you mind showing me where the washroom is?”

“Yes, Mr. Jeong. It’s right this way.” Alessandro takes over and leads Mr. Jeong to the washroom. As they’re walking away, Alessandro flashes you a look. It’s not a warning look. But with his gaze, you can tell that he’s telling you to head to the storage room to clean up the spill before Mr. Jeong comes back to his table. 

As you head to the storage room to grab hot towels, you bump into one of the other waitresses, Stella, who looks just as horrified as you are. Your legs almost give out at the sight of her. 

“Stella, do you mind taking over his table? I don’t think I can—”

“No, yeah, sure, I’ll take over that table for you. Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks with a face filled with concern. She bites her lip. “You do know who that man is, right?”

You slowly shake your head. “I have no idea who he is—”

“Oh mio dio!” Stella gasps in shock. “Bella, that is Mr. Jeong Jaehyun. Chef Jaehyun. He is a world-renowned chef. He owns five three-Michelin-starred restaurants in the world—”

“World… renowned… chef…” You trail off, growing more horrified by what you’ve done. 

“He’s won almost every cooking competition you could think of. He’s a legend. Both of his parents are culinary chefs too. His parents also teach at one of the most prestigious universities in South Korea for its culinary arts program. He started cooking when he was only ten years old—” She continues to hammer it into your head that the man you have spilled expensive wine all over is a living legend that cannot be messed with.

And you… have messed with him. 

Unknowingly.

“A legend… started at ten years old… won every competition…” 

You’re going to pass out. You feel faint. Your legs feel like jello. You’re surprised that you still haven’t been sucked into the red carpet floors. Maybe fate wanted you to experience this humiliation. Did you do something horribly wrong in your past life to deserve this? It’s only been the second day of your internship and you already want to go home. Hell, you haven’t even started cooking—which is why this culinary internship is for—and you already want to go home to your parents and cry your eyes out. 

“Yeah. He’s a big deal, Y/N. But don’t worry, I got you covered. I’ll take over his table. In the meantime, you stay here and get yourself together, alright?” Stella reassures you. 

You slowly nod your head, falling back against the stool. Stella grabs some towels and leaves you in the storage room all by yourself. Complete shock and embarrassment, you’ve really dug yourself a huge hole. After you’ve gathered yourself together, you head towards the door to look out the small round window that peeks into the restaurant. You could see Stella wiping up Mr. Jeong’s—or should you say Chef Jaehyun’s—table. When Chef Jaehyun returns, she greets him with a wide, pearly-white smile. He returns the same energy as her, almost mirroring her warm and bright aura. It’s a complete one-eighty from how he was with you. You can’t help but feel small. You can’t help but feel miserable.

Maybe you’re not fit to be working in a restaurant. Maybe you’re not fit to be working in a kitchen.

If you can’t even handle guests on the floor, what makes you think you could handle cooking meals in a kitchen? What makes you think you could even step foot in a kitchen? As a chef?

Maybe you’re just not fit to be a chef at all.

As you clock out of your shift, you kick off your high heels to replace them with a pair of running shoes. It’s almost midnight, and you’ve spent the closing hours cleaning up the dining area and the kitchen. It’s been hours since your encounter with Chef Jaehyun but it still feels fresh in your mind. You don’t think it’ll ever leave your mind for a while. 

You hear Stella call out your name as you put on your sweater. Looking over your shoulder, you spot her entering the room with a box in her hands. You quirk an eyebrow out of curiosity. 

“Hey, bella. This is for you.” 

She hands you the box, and you take off the cover to see a new pair of high heels. They look just like the ones you had on earlier, but it has a shiny finish. It’s an expensive brand as well. You place the cover back on, shaking your head and returning it to her. 

“Oh, no, Stella, I don’t think I can take this.” You hand back the heels to her.

She shakes her head. “Oh, no, bella, this is not from me. These heels are truly for you. I was just told to hand this over to you.”

“Oh…” You mumble softly. “Alright, then. Thanks, Stella. Thank you for having my back.”

“No worries, beautiful.” She smiles. “Now, forget about what happened today because tomorrow will be a new day! I don’t want to see your frown tomorrow morning when you clock in, alright? Promise?”

You chuckle. “I promise. By the way, do you know who gave the heels?”

She waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about who gave them.”

“What secrets are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding any secrets from you, beautiful. In fact, I have no idea who gave them. Alessandro just told me to give them to you.”

“I should probably thank Alessandro for these,” you mumble softly.

“Oh, no, these aren’t from Alessandro. He just told me that someone dropped by to give these heels to you and then he asked me to give them to you before you leave.” 

THE SECOND TIME.

You didn’t think Mr. World-Renowned Chef would come back, especially on the last day of your culinary internship. Ever since your full experience of a nightmare with Chef Jaehyun, you were quite surprised that the restaurant made you stay. You were expecting them to kick you out and let you find your way on your own. The first time you encountered Chef Jaehyun, you were a waitress. But this time… you’re a line cook.

And you’re cooking two dishes for him.

“Bella, is the filet mignon and gnocchi Sorrento ready?” Alessandro asks when he pops into the kitchen.

Ever since Alessandro announced and acknowledged Chef Jaehyun’s presence in the restaurant, you’ve been a jittery, nervous mess. This is all because you want to prove Chef Jaehyun wrong. You want to see him sit in his chair and dig into the dishes you’ve made for him, appreciating every single second of your hard work and effort. There are many dishes in the hot sanitizing bath; most of them are yours because they haven’t turned out the way you want them to be. You’ve been assigned two dishes; the filet mignon and gnocchi Sorrento and tiramisu. Two completely different dishes, one is the main course while the other is a dessert. 

“It’s ready.” You answer, placing the dish of filet mignon and gnocchi Sorrento over the counter for Stella to serve the intimidating chef sitting right outside of the door. In terms of what happens beyond that door leading to the dining area, you hope it’s everything but a repeated nightmare.

You take a step back and wait for Stella to return to the kitchen with Chef Jaehyun’s input on your dishes. A couple of minutes later, Stella returns to the kitchen with not a single trace of a smile spread across her lips. You wait in absolute terror. 

It’s almost as if you’re experiencing a real-life Kitchen Nightmares episode. But the chef tasting the food is not Gordon Ramsay (fortunately). It’s Jeong Jaehyun (unfortunately). 

“He doesn’t like it,” she mumbles softly. She draws in a deep breath, eyes finding yours. “He actually wants to have a word with the chef who made it.”

“Oh god,” you groan, rubbing at the temples of your head. You’re feeling a migraine beginning to throb every single angle of your head. It feels like your head is becoming a construction site, pulsing and pounding painfully every thirty seconds. “I’m going to pass out.”

When you step out of the kitchen, you nervously make your way toward Chef Jaehyun’s table. He’s sitting there, eyes shooting daggers right through your head. He definitely remembers you. There’s no doubt about it. There it is… the same piercing gaze he gave you the first time you encountered him. But that piercing gaze that he gives you is for a similar reason.

You messed up.

And he’s going to grill you for it.

You clear your throat and muster up a small smile as you reach his table. “Hi, Chef Jaehyun, I’m—”

“Y/N.” He cuts you off. You clamp your mouth shut. You were hoping he would be a bit nicer this time around. With the way he shuts you down, you’re starting to learn that you shouldn’t hope for better outcomes in your miserable situations. He tilts his head. “You’re the one who worked as a waitress for my table during my first visit. It’s quite surprising to see you in a chef’s apron. So… tell me, are you actually a culinary intern?”

You slowly nod your head. “Yes, chef.”

“Well, you have many things yet to learn. I’m surprised Enoteca Pinchiorri even considered taking you in as a culinary intern because the dish you had sent out to me is quite… disappointing.” One by one, his comments throw axes at your weak heart. “Take a good look at the gnocchi. Is this hand-made?”

“Yes, chef—”

“It’s rubbery. You’ve added too much flour.”

“I apologize, chef—”

“And I asked for a medium-rare for the filet mignon. It’s well-done.” He points at the filet mignon that he’s sliced with a fork and knife. You feel defeated yet again. You’re not sure if you would rather have the same person or a group of people criticize your cooking. “You should be grateful to be an intern here at this restaurant. This isn’t something you should be taking for granted. It’s not something that should be taken lightly. Other aspiring chefs desire to be in your shoes but don’t have the resources for it.”

“Again, I apologize, Chef Jaehyun.” You bow at him. “I’ll work harder.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your co-chefs. You are lacking in many skills, Y/N. Take this and my comments as a way to improve, or else you will never make it as a chef in this industry.”

That night, you barge into your bedroom with red, swollen eyes and a heavy heart. There must be a reason you keep fucking up in front of Chef Jaehyun. But you’re not sure if you’re courageous enough to be able to withstand such embarrassment. You want to go home. You want to stop your journey of becoming a chef. If the world’s most renowned chef thinks your cooking is horrible, how different would it be for a regular customer?

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your co-chefs. You are lacking in many skills, Y/N. Take this and my comments as a way to improve, or else you will never make it as a chef in this industry.”

You feel crushed.

Just like your dreams of becoming a chef.

THE THIRD TIME.

When you told your father that you would take a chance at MasterChef, he didn’t believe you until he saw you on his TV screen. Ever since you signed up to be a part of the competition, you’ve worked diligently to create the perfect dish to cook and present to the chefs. But when you stand behind the curtains that lead into the kitchen, you can’t help but grow afraid that all you’ve tried to remember and keep note of has completely vanished from your brain. You can’t afford to mess up.

You can’t afford to lose this chance, this opportunity.

It’s been years since your mother passed away due to cancer. She had run a diner, Mina’s Place. She named it after her. It was the only diner in the city that had good reviews. The reviews were a reflection of her passion for cooking. She loved cooking for others but mostly for herself. She had many skills. She perfected many dishes. The university nearby had a highly reputable culinary program, and the professors of that program had frequented the diner from time to time. They would always tell her that there was something special about the diner and that it was surely on its road to something even bigger. 

But before your mother had seen the highest success of her dream, her diner, she fell ill and was diagnosed with cancer. In a short time, her health deteriorated, and she eventually succumbed to her illness, leaving the diner and bringing all its light with her. 

If there was something you wanted to get out of this competition, it was a reputation. It was another chance to continue your mother’s dream. You know that this is something your mother would have wanted if she was still alive, to see her diner up until its end. But she was the one who let go first. Your dream is to bring back the diner, and you’re not sure how, but all you want is to fulfill her dream. 

Your mother’s dream has become yours. 

“Let’s welcome the next potential contestant, Chef Y/N. She’s interned at many restaurants in Florence and wants to open up a restaurant of her own someday.” The host introduces you as you wheel your cart into the kitchen. 

When you reach the workstation situated right in the middle of the room, you place your things down before looking up to introduce yourself to the judges. As you look up, the first person you meet eyes with is Chef Taeyong. Chef Taeyong is known for being the co-owner of a three-Michelin-starred restaurant in Florence. You’ve always wanted to become a culinary intern at his restaurant, but you always chickened out. Standing right next to him is Chef Doyoung, who nods his head at you. Chef Doyoung is known for being a world-renowned chef in the making. He was the winner of MasterChef four years ago and since then has opened a lot of successful restaurants, all of them with Michelin stars. And standing right next to Chef Doyoung is—Chef Jaehyun?!

When Jaehyun’s eyes land on you for the first time in years, his eyebrows raise with surprise. Seeing you for the third time cannot be a pure coincidence. He tries to compose himself and get himself together when you finally acknowledge his presence. From the corner of his eye, he could see Taeyong glance at him. His shoulders tense up, but he feels them slowly relax when you look away from him. 

“Plans to open up a restaurant, huh?” Chef Doyoung smiles and you bite your lip, nodding your head in reply. “You know, that was my plan when I started my journey here in MasterChef. My plan worked out in the end! That means you can fulfill whatever your heart desires, as long as you put your mind to it.”

“I truly believe that if you put your mind into something, it'll be easily attainable if you put in the work and effort.” Chef Taeyong agrees with his co-judge. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

You clear your throat. “I’m planning on baking up a dish that my mother used to make for me. Well, it’s a dessert among many desserts that my mom used to make for the family.”

“But will this dish be enough to give you a spot in MasterChef?” You almost choke on your spit when you hear his voice for the first time in years. Chef Jaehyun. His voice still sends shivers down your spine. As you slowly look up from the stove, you find him already looking back at you with the same piercing gaze that you never seemed to forget. 

You gather yourself together. You nod. You like to believe that you’ve learned to handle your nervousness and anxiousness. “More than enough, chef.”

“You seem to have a close relationship with your mother,” Chef Doyoung begins. While you’re conversing with the chefs, you’re preparing your dish. You start by dipping the truffles in melted chocolate. “Is she the one who inspired you to join MasterChef?”

You smile at the thought of your mother. You answer as you place each chocolate-covered pumpkin pecan truffle onto the plate. “Yes, chef. She’s very special to me. I just want to make her proud.”

“Well, what are you making us for today?” Chef Doyoung questions. You’re placing the spiced pumpkin roulade next to the truffles and adjusting them to make the dish look presentable overall. 

“I’ll serve you a spiced pumpkin roulade with pecan maple truffles. It’s something my mom used to make every Thanksgiving.” You answer. “It’s also my dad’s favourite dessert, and because it’s his favourite, my mom would make it for him every now and then. I would have to sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night to get a bite because the whole thing would be gone the next day.”

Chef Taeyong chuckles. “Sounds sweet, spicy, and delicious. It also sounds like it brings warm memories. You have five minutes left, Y/N.”

Five minutes later, your dish is ready. You place it right in front of you at your station. Chef Taeyong is the first one to taste your dish. He heads over to you and picks up his spoon. He scoops a spoonful of everything in your dish underneath the warm spotlights that shine over your station. Pumpkin pecan truffles… spiced pumpkin roulade…

“Do you mind walking me through this dish?” Chef Taeyong asks. 

“What you have on this side are the truffles… the pumpkin pecan truffles, to be exact. It’s glazed with maple syrup.” You explain before pointing to the sliced pumpkin roulade on the other side of the dish. “And on the other side of the dish is a spiced pumpkin roulade.”

“You seem nervous,” he says softly. 

You let out a shaky laugh. “I am indeed quite nervous, chef.”

“How bad do you want this, Y/N?” He asks. 

“So bad.” You answer simply. “You don’t even know how bad I want this.”

“Let’s see if this dish is enough to earn you a spot in the competition.” He tastes your dish.

You study and observe him as he tastes the hints of pumpkin and pecan, all punched deep with some spice. You fiddle with your fingers nervously. It’s a bad habit of yours. If there’s one thing that you wanted to get out of this audition, it was at least one yes. One yes is enough for you to be satisfied. But oh, how you want this so badly. 

“Wow.” He tilts his head with surprise. It’s almost as if he’s caught off guard. “It’s delicious.”

“R-Really?” You blurt out before shaking your head. “I mean—thank you. Thank you, chef, that means so much to me.”

“It tastes amazing.” He smiles before heading back to his seat. 

You’re starting off strong. You like what’s happening. Two more chefs and your fate will be determined. You hope fate is on your side this time. You know you deserve a break from all of your horrible chances with luck and fate. You deserve this. You’ve worked so hard for it. It would be a huge disappointment if you didn’t earn a spot in the competition. 

Next up is Chef Doyoung, who grabs his spoon and digs into your dish without uttering a single word. Once he’s finished tasting your dish, he folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Y/N, are you satisfied with how your dish turned out today?”

“More than satisfied, chef.” You mumble softly, but there’s a hint of a lack of confidence in your voice. You’re sure the chefs could pick up your low self-esteem. Chef Doyoung purses his lips into a tight line.

“Are you a perfectionist?” He asks. 

“I try to be, chef.” You answer.

“Well, perfectionism is one of the best qualities to have as a chef.” He adds. He clasps his hands together and sucks in a deep breath. “I taste a light hint of lemon, but I am immediately kicked with the spices. I could taste the hint of cloves that burst right through the hints of lemon. I think you have a great sense of flavours. You have a great sense of spices. This dish has the perfect balance of sweet, spicy, and savoury.”

“Thank you, chef.” You smile, not sure how to contain your happiness. 

“Well done,” he complements you before heading back to his seat. 

Last is Chef Jaehyun, who walks up to your station. Your smile immediately vanishes from your face and is replaced with horror. You’re especially nervous around him. With all the horrible encounters you’ve had with him, you wish he had a poor memory because you wouldn’t want someone like him to remember you. You’re looking everywhere but him. 

“I’m not a fan of sweets and desserts.” He says flat out. You wince. “That should be more than enough to make you nervous.”

“I hope that with this dish, you’ll start to appreciate desserts more, chef.” You mumble softly. It’s just barely above a whisper. You sound like a guilty child admitting fault after being caught lying. But you’re not lying, not at all. You’re just nervous. 

“is this dish going to change my mind? Is this dish going to be enough to change my mind about desserts?” He continues to grill you, and you let your head hang low.

“I just… want to impress you, chef.” More like prove you wrong. 

“I hope this dish doesn’t disappoint me.” His low voice sends shivers down your spine. He takes a spoonful of the cake and the truffle before shoving them into his mouth. 

It feels like it’s just the two of you at that very moment. It doesn’t feel like Chef Taeyong and Chef Doyoung are there. Your entire body feels tense just standing within his line of sight. He folds his arms and looks down at your dish. “It’s good. But it’s not good enough. There’s something that’s lacking in this dish. Do you know what that is?”

“What is it, chef?” You ask. 

“The presentation.” He answers. “Look at how you presented this dish to us. It does not look MasterChef-worthy. The presentation of this dish, I might say, is predictable. The presentation of a dish that you make is something you must pay attention to because if it doesn’t visibly look good, your customers would assume that it doesn’t taste good.”

“I understand, chef.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Chef Jaehyun definitely remembers you. Why? Because he loves nitpicking every single lacking detail of your cooking. He truly never changed. He’s still the same cold-hearted, selfish, rude prick. 

The three chefs discuss their decision. You continue to fiddle nervously with your fingers to calm yourself down, to distract you from what’s about to come. You’re so sure that you’re not going to get a spot in the competition, and it’s all going to be because of Chef Jae—

“Y/N?”

“Yes, chef?” You blurt out with surprised, caught off guard eyes. 

“It’s a yes for me,” Chef Taeyong smiles. 

“It’s a no for me,” Chef Jaehyun says. “Simply because you’re lacking in presenting your dishes. I think that is very crucial to becoming a chef. I was not impressed with your dish simply because I’m not a fan of desserts. I was hoping you would change my mind, but I guess it just fell short.”

“I understand, chef. I agree that I could’ve paid more attention to the plating.” You nod your head in agreement. For the first time, you agree with Chef Jaehyun. 

“Now, that leaves the pressure on me.” Chef Doyoung smirks. “If I say no, you won’t have a spot in the competition. But if I say yes, you will advance in the competition, and you will have your own MasterChef apron.”

“You won’t regret giving me a chance, chef. I want this so bad.”

Tension continues to fill the air. Chef Doyoung’s touch gaze softens, and you feel your tense posture relax. He clasps his hands together before saying, “it’s a yes for me. Congratulations, Y/N.”

“Please come up and take your MasterChef apron.” Chef Taeyong gestures for you to come up to the front. 

“Oh my gosh,” you sigh with relief. “I promise I’ll do my best, chef. Thank you so much for taking a huge risk on me.”

As you near the three chef judges, you stand in front of Chef Taeyong, who helps you put your apron on. You smile, taking his hand that he extends out to you to shake. Moving onto Chef Doyoung, you shake his hand, thanking him many times for giving you a chance. Last but not least, your eyes meet Chef Jaehyun. You’ve never been up close to Chef Jaehyun like this. He’s quite handsome, you think to yourself, but it’s also a shame that he’s such a rude, cold-hearted person. He extends his hand out to you for you to shake. When your hands interlock, you can’t help but notice how warm and soft his hands are. The both of you exchange such intense looks. You’re the first one to break away, pulling back your hand. 

“Long time no see. Congratulations, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Chef Jaehyun.”

THE FOURTH TIME.

On a quest to become MasterChef, you are expected to learn how to work with a team of chefs. The round that awaits you is a team challenge, where you and a couple of other contestants will work together to cook up a full course meal. The team challenge usually occurs after the first mystery box challenge and elimination round. Sitting at the front of the kitchen is a box filled with two different coloured aprons, red and blue. These aprons will split everyone into two teams based on their apron colour. From the corner of your eye, you can see your station mate, Taeil, gawking at the box at the front. 

He turns towards you and whispers, “I hope we’re on the same team.”

You flash him a small smile. “I hope so too.”

Ever since the competition began, you have learned how to become a competitive chef. You’ve also learned how to make connections and new friendships. It’s what you have learned to value the most, especially working in an industry that relies heavily on networking and connections. Two rounds into the competition, you became friends with Taeil simply because he cooked up his dishes right next to you, and, over time, he also looked out for you and helped you with your dishes. He’s completely different from you. You’d like to think that he’s the complete opposite. But somehow, you both work in tune with each other. You wouldn’t have asked for a better station mate. Both of your different personalities shined the most in your cooked dishes. 

“Y/N, please step up to the front and pick your apron for the team challenge.” Chef Jaehyun calls out to you, and your heart beats out of your chest. You share a look with Taeil. 

As you make it to the front of the kitchen, you stick your hand into the black box to pull out a red apron. You avoid eye contact with Chef Jaehyun like you always do, but you could still feel his burning gaze. You always feel insecure and nervous around him. How embarrassing it must seem to him. 

“Taeil, your turn has arrived. Come up and pick your apron.” Chef Taeyong smiles. 

You wish Chef Jaehyun was like Chef Taeyong. Nice… sweet… genuine. He genuinely wanted every contestant to be successful, whether it be in their dishes or their confidence. You wish Chef Jaehyun would forget about all the horrible encounters you’ve had with him. You wish Chef Jaehyun would break out of his shell and turn his cold personality into a personality similar to his co-chef.

When Taeil arrives at the front and sticks his hand into the box, he pulls out not a red apron but… a blue one. The both of you share looks, and a pout can’t help but form across your lips. Chef Jaehyun notices your slight pout, and you immediately let it drop from your face. Taeil returns to his station, and you begin to overthink. Who are you going to work with? You’ve only become acquaintances with the rest of the contestants. Taeil is the only contestant you’ve become close to and the only contestant you consider a good friend. He’s the only contestant you see having a friendship with even after the competition ends. 

After all the contestants have been called up to choose their team, the chef judges have you gather together. You and Taeil wave goodbye as you both part to your own assigned teams, you with the red team and him with the blue team. As you walk over to your team, you can’t help but notice how you’re the only woman. Your teammates are Junhwa, Jay, Mason, and Euntae.

“Today’s challenge will be quite different because you’re all expected to work together as a team with your teammates.” Chef Doyoung announces. “For today’s team challenge, we will be headed to the beach to cater for a wedding.”

Your head shoots up. You’re doomed. You know that your team is done for even before the team challenge begins. Junhwa was just saved from the elimination test the other day because he had messed up his dish for the mystery box challenge. Jay hasn’t been up to par with his dishes and has yet to cook up his best dish in the competition. Like Junhwa, Mason had messed up his dish for the mystery box challenge but was saved from the elimination test by Chef Doyoung. Euntae, however, is the only one on the team that’s been performing well in the competition. But as for you… you’re not sure where you stand in this competition. 

“Let’s all head to the location and we’ll explain more about the team challenge.”

It’s the perfect day to have a wedding on the beach. The wind currents aren’t strong, but they bring a light warm breeze. The wedding takes place on a weekday which explains the small number of people hanging out at the beach. When you all arrive at the beach, the first thing you spot is two different cooking stations, differentiated by your respective team colours. You draw in a deep breath. This is going to be a long day. 

“Everyone, please gather around as we begin today’s challenge.”

Everyone gathers around the three young world-renowned chefs following the producer's command. You can see Chef Jaehyun staring right at you from the corner of your eye. He’s drilling two holes through the side of your head. It’s almost as if he’s praying and manifesting for you to mess up in the team challenge. You wouldn’t be surprised if you mess up and his prayers and manifestations were served right to him on a golden platter because his intensity and strive for perfection always cause you to do so. 

“Today, you will be cooking up a three-course meal for wedding guests at the beach. The couple that will be wedded later on today has laid out their menu and their expectations.” Chef Doyoung explains. 

You have learned one thing so far; never have a team of aspiring chefs competing in competition be in charge of cooking and serving your guests’ food. Why? Because there’s huge room for failure. Food poisoning? Traumatizing. Undercooked food? Horrifying. You wouldn’t imagine getting married and having scared chefs-in-the-making cater to your guests at the reception. To you, it sounded like a nightmare waiting to unfold right before your two eyes. And here you are now, living out that nightmare in disguise. 

“The menu consists of cranberry and brie bites for the appetizer, roasted pork loin on wild mushroom risotto for the main course, and a spiced carrot cake for the dessert.” Chef Taeyong reads off the menu that the wedding couple has put together for their guests. 

You hold in a sigh of relief. You think you could handle doing the appetizer and dessert. Baking is your expertise. It’s something your mother loved doing the most. Baking up a dessert can be daunting and taxing, but once you’ve mastered the basics, everything you pop into the oven will come out beautifully. You’ve spent most of your childhood sitting in the kitchen helping her make the desserts. You’ve spent most of your childhood sitting in the kitchen and breathing in the aroma of sweet desserts. 

You just hope that your team leader assigns you the appetizer or dessert. If not… you’re not sure how you’re going to put up a good performance. Will you be eliminated? Is this going to put you at risk for elimination? 

“Have you all picked a team leader?” Chef Jaehyun asks. 

On the blue team, Taeil raises his hand. You smile. Taeil is quite the introvert, but you know that he’ll be able to bring his team together and make the most out of it. On your team, Euntae raises his hand. It was predetermined that he would be the team leader mainly because he’s the only one who’s been doing well in the competition. 

“Taeil for team red and Euntae for team blue.” Chef Jaehyun notes it down on his notepad. “Alright. Let’s have you go over to your stations to start prepping for the service.”

“You will have one hour and thirty minutes to complete your three-course meal.” Chef Doyoung announces. 

“Please use your time wisely because regardless of whether your dishes are done, they will be served to the guests.” Chef Taeyong warns you. Everyone falls silent. “Your two goals are one, to make sure that there is food on the table for every single guest and two, that the food you serve has been cooked to perfection.” 

“Yes, chef.” Everyone says in unison.

“Alright. Get ready because your time starts in three…”

“Two…”

“One…”

“Go!”

Thankfully, you’ve been assigned to work on the spiced carrot cake. Euntae and Jay will work on the roasted pork loin on wild mushroom risotto. Euntae will work specifically on the roasted pork loin, and Jay will work specifically on the wild mushroom risotto. Mason and Junhwa will work together on the cranberry and brie bites. It’s been about twenty minutes since the timer started, and you’re almost done mixing the batter for the cake. You’ve added carrot bits and slices in the cake batter to make the carrot stand out when someone takes a slice out of it. You’re also planning on making a cream cheese frosting to drizzle on top of the cake. 

“Y/N, make sure you don’t go off track with the cake, alright? I know you’re excited, but we don’t have much time left.” Euntae commands, and you nod your head.

Euntae is such a perfectionist. It’s been obvious since the start of the competition. He’s been winning almost every challenge. If he wasn’t the winner of the challenge, he would most likely be second. Carrying your team must be difficult for him because most of his teammates have been performing poorly. 

“Yes, I’ll work faster.” 

“And make sure you follow the demo recipe.” He adds. “I don’t want you making something completely different from what we’re asked to do.”

You like to think of your dishes as an experiment. Most of the time, you depend heavily on your sense of taste and extensive knowledge of spices. Thus, this results in you neglecting recipe books and instructions. You like experimenting in your cooking because there’s a thrill when something turns out delicious. There’s a sense of excitement and surprise when two unlikely ingredients somehow pair well with each other. 

Euntae probably notices your experimental way of approaching your dishes. He doesn’t want you to fuck everything up. You can’t blame him for playing it safe. You would do the same thing. 

“This look different to you?” You ask, pointing to your cake batter.

He dips his fingers into the batter and tastes it. “Put more clove. I don’t taste the kick. I thought spices were your thing?”

You purse your lips into a tight line. He looks taken aback by your confused gaze. If there was one thing you wish you could change about yourself, it’s how you are easily readable through your facial expressions. Your emotions are easy to detect because they’re spread across your entire face. Knitted or raised eyebrows, jutted chin, pouty lips, you’re very expressive with your emotions. 

“It is. I did put in clove. Is it not enough?” You dip your finger into the batter to taste it yourself. Indeed, you taste the kick. Your gut tells you not to add any more of the spices because it will be too spicy for the guests if you add more. “I don’t think we should add more. I think it’s enough—”

“I don’t taste the spices, Y/N—”

“Well, I do—”

“But I’m the team leader, right?” He reminds you. You clamp your mouth shut. Where is all of this coming from? How could he talk to you like this? You could feel your gaze hardening at him. “Do you want me to save you a spot in the competition? You do, right? So follow what I tell you to do, and everything will be fine.”

You squint your eyes at him before shaking your head. “No way. I’m not letting you sabotage my cake.”

“And I am not letting you bring the entire team down. We cannot afford to lose.” Jay butts in as he shoves you aside to place a pan on the stove. You almost stumble back, and you’re on the verge of tears. 

“Ugh, this is ridiculous.” You mutter to yourself, grabbing your bowl of cake batter and moving to a different table in your station to work. You’re standing alone as the rest of your team gathers together to talk about how they will prepare the dishes. You feel left out. You feel like an outcast. You wish you were on Taeil’s team. 

You feel like this is planned. 

You feel like they’re planning to sabotage you. 

“Y/N?” Chef Doyoung calls out to you. 

You look over your shoulder to see him waving you over. You dust your hands off before heading up to him. You don’t know that Euntae walks over to your bowl of cake batter and puts in a couple of more teaspoons of clove and cinnamon behind your back. He adds a bit more than what is required. Chef Doyoung folds his arms at you. 

“Yes, chef?” You mumble. 

“Why aren’t you being included in your team?” He asks. He noticed, and that’s all that matters to you. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I’m not quite sure, chef. We have different opinions on how we should make the spiced carrot cake. Euntae thinks there’s not enough spice, while I think there’s more than enough.

“Trust your gut. But you should also keep in mind that this is a team challenge. You’re all supposed to work together as a team.” He reminds you. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thank you, chef.”

Suddenly, Chef Jaehyun yells out. “Your spiced carrot cakes should be in the oven right now or will be undercooked!”

Upon returning to your station, you grab your bowl of cake batter to pour it into a baking pan. Hurriedly, you place it into the preheated oven. You do not want to mess this up. You can’t mess this up. If your team fails the challenge, you are at risk of being eliminated. 

You can’t afford to lose the competition. 

You can’t go home. 

You’re not surprised that the cranberry and brie bites were almost burnt out of the oven. You’re not surprised that your two teammates were running behind on time with the roasted pork loin and wild mushroom risotto. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if your team were unable to put out your dishes on time. 

When you pull out the tray of cranberry and brie bites, you place them on the table. One by one, you place the burnt ones aside and the good ones on the serving trays. Standing behind you, Mason and Junhwa continue to panic, not even bothering to help you save their dish that they’ve been assigned to do. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” You feel yourself stiffen. Chef Jaehyun stands next to you and looks at the burnt and unburnt cranberry and brie bites. He clicks his tongue and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Were you the one assigned to do the bites?”

You shake your head. “No, chef.”

“Who was assigned for the cranberry and brie bites?” He asks your teammates. 

“Us, chef.” Mason answers. 

Chef Jaehyun points at you while looking at Mason. “And why is Y/N taking over your task?”

“Because she likes getting into everyone’s business—” You hear Euntae mutter underneath his breath. You’ve confirmed it: Euntae is plotting your elimination. He hates you. 

“She said she would help us salvage some of the cranberry and brie bites for the guests. She’s picking it out for us while we make another batch.” Junhwa explains. 

“And you’re both just standing there and watching her?” Chef Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows with anger. “Where’s your team leader?”

“Here, chef.” Euntae walks over. 

“Where is the direction, Euntae?” Chef Jaehyun frowns. You could see steam coming out of Chef Jaehyun’s nostrils. “Your teammates are lost. They’re panicking, and you’re just standing in front of your pan doing your own thing. You’re in your own little world, Euntae. It’s time to wake up.”

“Excuse me, I have to take out the carrot cake.” You mumble softly as you excuse yourself to head to the oven. You take a quick peek before putting on your oven mittens to take the cake pans out. 

It comes out beautifully. They’ve baked and risen to perfection. You can smell the strong aroma of spices. Hidden within the sponge cake are the grated bites of carrot, giving it a beautiful orange colour. From your periphery, you see Chef Jaehyun walking over to you. You hold in your breath. 

“Can I have a taste of the cake?” He asks. 

You slowly nodded your head. “Yes, chef.”

Chef Jaehyun digs into the cake with a small teaspoon while your teammates gather around to watch. He winces, and you wish you could disappear. You’ve noticed that he always winces and grimaces with disappointment whenever you mess up. It’s like you could tell what’s about to come before it even happens. 

“You were in charge of the cake, right, Y/N?” 

“Yes, chef.” You mumble. 

Clatter. He tosses the teaspoon onto the table and frustratingly runs a hand through his hair. “You can’t serve that. It’s too spicy. You’ve put too much clove and cinnamon.”

You look at him confusedly. Completely flabbergasted, you take a bite from the cake yourself and indeed, it’s too spicy. It’s overpowering the sweetness of the carrot and sugar. But wait—you never added any more clove or cinnamon. 

“You can’t serve this. This entire team is set up for failure. You cannot save yourselves from this challenge. Take off your aprons. You don’t have any more time to send out any dishes. You’ve completely failed the team challenge.”

You glance at Euntae, who avoids your gaze. He turns around and walks back to his pork loin and mushroom risotto pan. He tosses the pans into the sink out of frustration and anger. 

Euntae sabotaged you.

At the end of the team challenge, you and your teammates find yourselves standing in front of the three disappointed chefs. You’re too ashamed of yourself to look at them. You distract yourself by fiddling with your fingers. You were thinking of all the ‘what if’s’. What if you were on the blue team? What if you paid more attention to your teammates that were plotting your failure? What if you worked harder? What if—

“As you are all aware of what happened today, your team lost the challenge. This only means that not one, not two, but four of you will be eliminated from the competition.” Chef Doyoung says. 

“But first, we are going to tell you what you did wrong and where you all went wrong.” Chef Taeyong frowns, “as a team.”

“The first thing that went wrong were the cranberry and brie bites. They were overcooked to the point that they were burnt. You had only realized that they were burnt when you took them out of the oven too late, leaving you no time to make another batch.” Chef Doyoung explains. 

“We are aware of that, chef.” Mason and Junhwa speak in unison. 

“The second thing that went wrong was the spiced carrot cake. I was surprised that Y/N put too much clove and cinnamon into the batter. From your audition, Y/N, you had a good sense of the spices, so I figured this task wouldn’t be difficult to do.” Chef Taeyong outlines the second mistake of the team. 

“The third thing that went wrong had completely gone over our heads.” Chef Jaehyun begins. “We were wondering why out of all the dishes you were assigned, the roasted pork loin and mushroom risotto turned out fine.”

“It was because we—” Euntae begins.

“It was because you wanted to sabotage your own teammates. Am I right, Euntae?” Chef Jaehyun catches him red-handed. “Don’t try to lie to us. Don’t you dare try to lie to me because I saw it myself.”

“I did not sabotage any of my teammates—”

“Y/N, you know why your spiced carrot cake was too spicy?” Chef Jaehyun asks you. 

You courageously look into his eyes. “Why, chef?”

“Because your own teammate, Euntae, sabotaged your cake and added three tablespoons more of clove and cinnamon, which is way more than what we asked for in our demo.” Chef Jaehyun reveals. “I saw it happen right before my eyes. Euntae, if you were going to sabotage your teammate, you should’ve made sure that none of us chef judges would see it.”

“Chef, I—Y/N has always been doing her own thing in the competition, and I didn’t want her to sabotage our team by doing things the way she wants to,” Euntae explains. 

“You’re supposed to work together as a team.” Chef Taeyong shakes his head in disbelief. “Did you plan this all out so that Y/N would be eliminated from the competition? Don’t lie to us because I overheard you planning this out with the rest of your teammates.”

“I—”

“Okay. That’s enough.” Chef Doyoung raises up his hand to shut him up. “We have made up our minds on who will be leaving the competition.”

“The first contestant that will be saying goodbye is…”

You clench your eyes shut as you wait for your name to be called out. You hate everything that’s happening right now. You’ve never been so careless. Now, you pay the consequences. 

“Jay. Please say goodbye to your teammates.”

You feel your heart drop. 

“The second contestant that will be saying goodbye is…”

Your heartbeat begins to pick up its pace once again. Once your name is called out, you’re going to have to pack your things and head back home. 

“Junhwa. Please say goodbye to your teammates.”

You hold in your breath. 

“That leaves Y/N, Euntae, and Mason.”

You close your eyes again, praying that your name wouldn’t be called out. You’re already thinking about what you would say to your father if you’re eliminated from the competition. 

“Y/N, please say goodbye to your teammates…”

Your eyes flutter open. This is it. You’re officially eliminated from the competition. You shake hands with your two teammates who have completely sabotaged you. You’re keeping yourself together. You’re holding yourself back from bursting out into anger. 

“Because you will advance to the next round of the competition. Euntae and Mason, you are both eliminated from MasterChef, please take off your aprons.” 

Your heart stops. Wait.

“Wait, what?” You look at the chefs in shock.

“Y/N, you are the only one that will stay in the competition.” Chef Taeyong smiles. 

“It was a tough decision.” Chef Doyoung adds. 

“But we do not tolerate cheaters in this competition. You are innocent and had no bad intentions, Y/N, which is why you are safe from elimination.” Chef Jaehyun confirms everything for you. “But that does not mean you are safe from the remainder of the competition. What this means is that we will all be putting more pressure on you to be the best chef you say you are.”

“I will do my best, chef. I am confident that I will win MasterChef.” 

Chef Jaehyun purses his lips into a tight line. 

You feel your blood run cold. 

“Don’t make us regret choosing to save you from elimination.”

THE FIFTH TIME.

“Don’t make us regret choosing to save you from elimination.”

The pressure is all on you. Chef Jaehyun’s voice echoes throughout your head the entire hour that you’re granted to create a dish. In this round, all of the contestants are given a mystery box filled with random ingredients. In your mystery box, you were given beetroot, beef tenderloin, and blackberries. They are three completely different ingredients that you’re not quite sure will mesh well together. 

Five minutes before the timer started, you decided to make beef tenderloin with roasted beetroot, all covered by a blackberry sauce. And now here you are, thirty minutes in, and you just hope that your dish turns out well. 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Chef Jaehyun.” You mumble softly, checking up on your beef tenderloin to see if it’s being cooked correctly on the skillet pan. You’re hoping to cook the tenderloin medium-rare to keep the monochrome colour of your dish. 

“What are you making for us today?” He asks. 

He’s distracting you. Whether it’s intentional or not, it’s breaking your focus. You clear your throat as you answer, “beef tenderloin with beetroot, all covered by a blackberry sauce.”

“Are you sure this is going to work out well? It seems quite… difficult to pull off.” He grabs a spoon and digs into the blackberry sauce that you have boiling in a saucepan. He tastes it and steps back, tilting his head as he loses himself in thought. “Interesting. You’re truly making this difficult for us, huh?”

What is he trying to say? You bite your lip, pretending to ignore him. “It should work out well. It is a mystery box challenge, after all. I’ve been given three ingredients that you never truly see together in a dish, but here we are.”

“The blackberry sauce is perfect. But regarding whether this blackberry sauce will complement your beef tenderloin and beetroot… you’ll have to prove that to us.” He gently places his spoon into your sink and moves on to the next contestant.

“You have fifteen minutes left! In about five minutes, you should all be plating your food!”

You turn off the stove to cool down your blackberry sauce. With fifteen minutes left, you need at least five minutes to let the beef tenderloin rest. You’re still not sure if it’s cooked medium-rare. It’s a risk you’re willing to take. You take the skillet pan off of the stove and transfer the beef tenderloin onto a wire rack for it to rest. As for your beetroot, you take each slice out to begin plating them.

“I’m not going to lie, that looks incredible, Y/N.” Taeil compliments you. You almost jump in surprise. You’ve been so focused on making sure you do well in this challenge that you forgot about Taeil. As you glance at him, he lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry for scaring you. I’ll shut up now.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I just hope it’s edible.” You crack a joke to ease your nervousness. He snorts.

“I’m sure it’s edible. You’ve made it this far, Y/N. You should give yourself more credit for your hard work.” He reassures you.

One minute left on the timer, and you’re placing the beef tenderloin right in between two slices of beetroot. To complete your dish, you drizzle blackberry sauce all over the dish. To amplify your dish even further, you take a couple of blackberries and scatter them across your dish. Overall, your dish is a dark magenta colour. Monochromatic. 

“Five…”

“Four…”

“Three… Two…”

“One! Time’s up!”

“Y/N, please bring up your dish.”

With shaky hands, you grab your plate and head up to the front. You place your dish down onto the table that stands right in front of the chef judges. Each one of them looks surprised to see what you have presented to them. Chef Doyoung is the first one to take a bite. He steps forward and grabs a knife and fork, slicing himself a bit of beetroot before poking at the beef tenderloin.

“How did you cook the beef tenderloin?” He asks.

You bite your lip. “I was hoping to cook it medium-rare. But I didn’t have enough time to let it rest, so I’m not quite sure if it turned out that way.”

“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?” He insists. You slowly nod your head. Standing behind him, you can see Chef Jaehyun standing on his tiptoes to get a look at the tenderloin. As Chef Doyoung slices through the tenderloin and you sigh with relief. “It’s perfect. You doubt yourself a bit too much, Y/N. The tenderloin is indeed medium-rare.”

“Thank goodness.” You let out another sigh of relief.

He takes a bite. As he chews, you study him and wait for his reaction. When he finishes eating, he clasps his hands together and breaks out into a smile. “I think it’s quite delicious. I would definitely serve something like this in my restaurant.”

“Really? Oh wow… thank you, chef.” You beam.

“Blackberries, beef tenderloin, and beetroot. These three ingredients seem hard to cook together, but you balance them beautifully. The plating is amazing. You’ve improved your plating skills since the start of the competition. Overall, this dish is my favourite.” He places his cutlery down and flashes you one last smile. He heads back to stand next to Chef Taeyong, who’s the next one to step forward and taste your dish.

“First off, the dish looks lovely. I love the monochrome theme you have going on here. It amplifies your dish. But as for the taste, we shall find out.” Chef Taeyong takes a bite of the beetroot and tenderloin, making sure he dips it in the blackberry sauce. He tilts his head and lets out a chuckle. “That’s… amazing. You truly have a great sense of your spices. I wouldn’t even have thought of making a dish like this with these three ingredients. Well done, Y/N. You continue to perform well in this competition. I also see Chef Doyoung serving something like this at his restaurant.”

“Thank you, chef.” You hold in a happy sigh.

Next up is Chef Jaehyun, who barely waits for Chef Taeyong to step aside for him. He quirks an eyebrow at you before digging into your dish. “After we spoke earlier, I wondered how you could pull off a sour blackberry sauce with savoury beef tenderloin and beetroot. They are two unlikely tastes that should not be paired together.”

“It is a mystery box, so I just tried to work with what I was given. I hope it tastes good for you, Chef Jaehyun.” You avoid his eyes. But you could see him trying to look into them.

He takes a bite. He chews and swallows. He places his cutlery down and purses his lips into a tight line. “I’m going to be quite honest. I don’t like it. The sour blackberry sauce completely overpowers the savoury tenderloin and beetroot. However, I could definitely see why others may like it. This dish is catered for people with a specific palette. I’m not one of those people. The plating looks beautiful, however.”

“Thank you, chef.” You whisper.

“As I’ve said time and time again,” he says sternly, “you are making this extremely difficult for us, Y/N. You need to step up to the plate. I know you can do it. You have the tools and the talents to do it. You just need to use them.”

As he turns his back to you, you can feel your eyes well up with tears. Throughout this entire competition, you’ve learned that you not only want to win it, but you want to prove Chef Jaehyun wrong. He’s ignited a fire within you, a burning passion. His brutal honesty truly gets the best of you. 

If you can’t prove him wrong, what’s the point of continuing your journey?

He’s a world-renowned chef. He knows what tastes good and what doesn’t. He knows whether a chef will be successful in the field. He knows everything about the cooking and food industry. If he thinks you’re not fit enough, then maybe you’re truly not fit to be a chef.

You’ve already tried to step up to the plate, but he thinks it’s not enough.

You’ve already used all of your tools and talents, but he thinks it’s not enough.

You’re not enough.

What is considered enough?

He looks over his shoulder, and you hear him mutter.

“We saved you from elimination. You must prove to us that saving you was the best decision. You must prove to us that you are more worthy of winning than your teammates that were eliminated. Remember that.”

A tear almost slips from your eye.

You give up.

THE ONE TIME YOU PROVE HIM WRONG.

“I have come to the decision to withdraw from the competition.”

“If that’s your decision, then so be it. We regret seeing you go. Thank you for showing us your talent. You may go and pack your things because your journey at MasterChef ends here.”

Upon entering the huge kitchen, you head towards the light switches to turn on the spotlight for your workstation. The kitchen has never been so quiet nor has it been so peaceful. You feel your feet being glued to the ground, almost as if they’re keeping you from leaving. When you were a kid, you loved ditching your homework to spend time with your mother in the kitchen. You would even take a stool from the dining room to place it right next to her to have a full view of how she cooked your meals. Your home kitchen was your safe haven, your safe space, where you could truly be yourself. It was what brought you closer to your mother. It was what reminded you of your mother. 

But you had no choice. You force yourself, trudging your way towards your station to pack up all of your utensils. From cooking knives to ladles, you packed them away in a moving box. From your favorite fine China dishes to your custom-made chopsticks, you admired them one last time underneath the spotlight before tucking them away. You turn on the sink to dampen your towel. You wipe down your station one last time before wringing the towel out. Letting out a sigh, you wipe the beads of sweat that are forming on your forehead. This is it. Your journey at MasterChef ends here—

“What on earth are you doing?”

Looking up from your counter, you spot Jaehyun walking along the front of the space. He’s the last person you want to see. He’s the last person you want to talk to, especially right now. He has his hands tucked into his pockets as he makes his way towards you.

“I’m packing up my things.” You answer simply with a blank face.

“Why are you packing up your things? The competition isn’t over yet.” He finally makes it to your counter. Underneath the spotlight, he notices how bloodshot red your eyes are. You’ve cried all night over this competition and it brought you to your decision of withdrawing.

“The competition isn’t over yet for my fellow contestants,” you begin, “but the competition is over for me.”

“I’m not sure if I understand what you’re saying—”

“I’ve withdrawn from the competition.” You make it make sense for him. Jaehyun takes a couple of seconds for your words to sink in. Once he’s processes your words, his eyebrows furrow in confusion and frustration. 

“What?” He blurts out. “W-Why?”

You grow confused. That’s his reaction? “Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m leaving the competition? It’s one less thing to worry about, right? Your decision in choosing chefs to advance to the next round won’t be hard anymore because I’m leaving. Everything will be better without me—”

“Why would I be happy over a contestant’s voluntary withdrawal from the competition?” He cuts you off. 

You fall silent. Suddenly, you have no energy trying to defend yourself. With everything piling up, you’ve decided to give up. Everything that has happened to you in the past has led you to this moment. From spilling wine all over Jaehyun’s drink to messing up Jaehyun’s dish at your internship in Florence to your time here at MasterChef, it has brought you to the conclusion that maybe Jaehyun was right: you’re not fit or qualified enough to be a chef. 

“In a competition, you should not associate your emotions with your overall performance. Whatever you create here in the kitchen is what we judge.�� He says sternly with his hands placed on top of the marble of your countertop. “You and I are both aware that this is a competition. You are aware that your performance and the dishes you create are going to be commented on by judges. But as judges, we make those comments, good or bad, are to help you improve.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like comments to me. I don’t feel like you’re helping me improve. I feel stuck with no direction given. I just feel like you have this predisposed idea of who I am after all those negative encounters we’ve had in the past which is why you treat me like this.” You finally get it off of your chest. You feel extremely vulnerable in front of Jaehyun. All of your emotions that you’ve held in for so long are beginning to hit the surface. “And this is why I’ve decided to do everyone all a favor and withdraw.”

He pushes himself off of the countertop and holds in a sigh. You let your head hang low. His eyes land on the cardboard box sitting on the floor. It’s filled with all of your cooking utensils. He sees an old washed out apron sitting right on top of all the pans and dishes. Stitched right near the upper corner of the apron is a name. It’s not your name, but your mother’s name. The apron has been through a lot. It’s been through  a lot of washes. It’s been through a lot of spills. But you have never once thought of throwing it out because it was the only thing you had left of your mother. Aside from all the memories you have of and with her, of course. 

“Well, withdrawing from the competition means that you’re aware that you have no confidence in yourself.” 

“I hope you’re hearing yourself right now.” You mutter softly.

“Do you really think you’re not fit to be a chef?” He questions. 

“Well, you sure make me feel like it—” You scoff. 

“Cook me your best dish, then. If I think it’s horrible, then maybe withdrawing is the best decision.”

“I thought you’ve already made it clear that I’m not fit or qualified enough to be a chef—”

“You have sixty minutes.”

“Chef—”

“Your time starts now.”

Before you could protest, Jaehyun turns his back towards you and walks away. You’re trying so hard not to burst out into flames. The urgency to flip him off makes your blood boil. As he takes his seat at the front behind the judges’ table, you bend down to finish packing up your things. Jaehyun seems to pick up that you’re not taking up the challenge. 

“You claim that I was discouraging you this entire competition. You said that you have potential. You want to prove me wrong, right?”

You stop in your tracks. You sure do. You want to prove Jaehyun wrong so badly. With a burning passion. When he sees that you’ve stopped, he knows that he’s slowly changing your mind. 

“This is your chance to prove me wrong. Prove to me that you deserve to stay in this competition.”

You will yourself back up, fiery eyes meeting him. He knows that he’s turned the gears in your head. After you’ve given it much thought, you decided that if you were going to withdraw from the competition, you might as well show him what kind of aspiring chef they’re going to regret letting go of. You guess it was a pride thing. But you’ve never wanted to prove Jeong Jaehyun wrong so badly until now.

Jaehyun stares at you as you walk away from your station and into the large pantry with all the fresh ingredients. A smirk slowly begins to spread across his lips. You’re grabbing many ingredients from the pantry. There are some questionable pairs but ever since the start of the competition, you’ve always been experimental with your dishes. Surprisingly, they always turn out delicious no matter how ambiguous the ingredients are relative to each other. You finally return to your workstation to begin cooking your dish.

“Fifty-five minutes left,” he yells out to you.

You slightly jump. It’s just the two of you in the kitchen. If you were quite honest, it felt a bit intimate. But you felt a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Here you are, cooking for a world-renowned chef, after voluntarily withdrawing from a competition that he judges for. Here you are, cooking for a world-renowned chef who asked you to cook him a dish to prove him wrong. 

A deconstructed pie. That is what you have in mind.

There are two ingredients that you’ve never paired together before; grapefruit and basil. You’re planning on making a deconstructed raspberry and basil pie. The pie will consist of basil jelly and grapefruit curd, topping it all off with Italian meringue. 

“What are you making?” Jaehyun asks when he walks up to your station.

“A pie.”

“In an hour?” Jaehyun questions. You slowly nod your head, trying to keep yourself focused on your work. “Pies usually take more than one hour to make.”

“It’s going to be a deconstructed pie. Grapefruit and basil. Instead of using the crust, I’ll be using graham cracker crumbles.” You explain while juicing your grapefruits. 

“Grapefruit and basil? Don’t you think that those two together would be a bit… risky?” 

You shake your head. “Basil goes well with lots of fruits. I wouldn’t be surprised if basil went well with grapefruit.”

“I’ve tried a grapefruit and basil pie once. I don’t remember where, but it was delicious. I have high expectations for this. Yours will be the second grapefruit and basil pie that I have ever had in my entire life.” He comments. What a way to put the pressure on you. You don’t say anything. “Alright, then I guess—”

“You’re distracting me.” You cut him off. “Do you mind going back to the front and sitting there while I continue doing whatever it is that I need to do?”

“Sassy,” he grins. “Fine. I’ll be up at the front. You have forty-five minutes left.”

Forty-five minutes left to prove yourself. At this point, you’re not trying to prove you are worthy of staying in the competition. You’re trying to prove that you are nothing what Jaehyun thinks of you. You’re trying to prove Jaehyun that you are fit and qualified enough to be a chef and that this is made for you. It is something you love doing. It is your passion.

Jaehyun plops his butt down onto his seat and watches you cook up your dish. You’re making grapefruit zest while making sure the grapefruit curd isn’t being overcooked. He finds himself staring at you with awe. 

When Jaehyun met you for the first time, he didn’t like you. You ruined his shirt. His favorite shirt. But another reason why he didn’t like you was because you didn’t look confident enough. When Jaehyun met you for the first time, you were hiding behind the executive chef, too humiliated by your own actions. He saw right through you at that moment. You had an inferiority complex. You were not confident enough in yourself. You were shy. You always doubted yourself. But when his eyes met yours, he saw a fire ignite within them. 

When Jaehyun met you for the second time, you weren’t a waitress. You were a line cook. A culinary intern. You ruined his dish. When Jaehyun met you for the second time, he still didn’t like you. It was because after all the months that have passed by, you still don’t look confident enough in yourself. It made him uneasy. But the only difference that time around is that although he still didn’t like you, he knew that eventually, he would, because he saw potential. Leaving the restaurant that day after tasting your subpar dish made him uneasy, knowing that he could’ve done something to lift your spirits up. He knew that he had to do something to make you learn how to be confident in your cooking because that was the first step to making perfect dishes. If you were confident to cook, your dishes would reflect it. When Jaehyun met you for the second time, he realized that he didn’t like you because you reminded him of himself.

When Jaehyun met you for the third time, you were taking a chance at MasterChef. It was a year since the last time he saw you. On your first and second encounters with Jaehyun, the both of you were in Florence. But the third time, the both of you are in Seoul. It almost seemed fated. When Jaehyun boarded the plane in Florence going back to Seoul, he couldn’t get you off his mind. What if he tried to lift you up? What was it that he could’ve done to encourage you? He regretted being cold to you. He knew that if he had just been a bit nicer, a bit more sincere, it would’ve further ignited the flame that was already lit within you. It was like the heavens had heard him and sent you to him for a third time. 

He knew this was his third and final chance to make things right.

“Twenty minutes!” He yells.

“I heard you loud and clear, geez.” You place a hand over your heart as you continue your work. 

You’re working on your Italian meringue. It was something you learned how to do while you were doing your culinary internship in Florence. Making Italian meringue is completely different from making regular meringue. It requires more precision and accuracy. It requires more attention to detail. If you mess up the meringue, you’re practically messing up the entire dish. 

You don’t want that happening. That’s the last thing you want.

While you’re waiting for the sugar water to boil at an ideal temperature, you’re beginning to plate your dish. Gently and slowly, you place a layer of grapefruit curd at the bottom of the bowl. It acts almost like a bed for the basil jelly and Italian meringue. At perfect timing, the sugar water has reached its ideal temperature and you immediately take it off of the stove. You walk over to your stand mixer, turning it on and gradually pouring in the sugar mixture into the egg whites. The egg whites slowly turn into a beautiful meringue. Sweet. Fluffy. Almost like marshmallows. Once you’ve poured the entire sugar mixture, you continue to mix the meringue until the bottom of the bowl runs cold to the touch. 

“Fifteen minutes!” 

Jaehyun waits for you to say something but nothing comes out. He checks up on you and realizes you’re too focused on placing the meringue into a piping bag. He never knew how pretty someone could look under the harsh light of the stage kitchen. The brightness only highlighted your features that were solely focused on creating the perfect deconstructed pie. 

This was a first for Jaehyun—being mesmerized by a contestant under his wing. And as his heart caught on fire, much like the gas stove he used to use when he learned to cook all those years ago, Jaehyun also hoped it would be the last.

Having the chance to see you again is definitely a chance given by fate. The idea that you could be gone from the competition out of your own will absolutely terrifies him. It’s the last thing he wants. He wants you to realize how much talent you have. He wants you to realize that you have a lot of potential. He wants to be close to you. He wants to get to know you more. He’s only been able to do that through your dishes. Lately, it’s been hard to look directly into your eyes because it makes him grow nervous. While you’re the only contestant that’s around his age, he’s never felt more connected to someone until he met you. You most likely feel the complete opposite of him, but this is because he has the tendency to push people away. He pushes you away because he’s scared that once he screws up this chance to make things right, he might not forgive himself. It’ll be all his fault.

“Ten minutes!”

You’re piping the Italian meringue onto the bed of grapefruit curd. After that, you’re slicing up the basil jelly into small cubes. You place the basil jelly cubes on top of the grapefruit curd along the Italian meringue. Lastly, you’re grabbing a handful of graham crumbles and scattering them carefully on top of the Italian meringue, basil jelly cubes, and the grapefruit curd. Your deconstructed pie is almost done. You rummage through the drawers to find a torch. You light the torch on to slightly toast the Italian meringue. You don’t want it to burn, you want a nice toast on the top. 

“Five minutes!”

You fix up your dish one last time with roughly four minutes to spare. You slowly head up to the front of the kitchen with your deconstructed pie. Jaehyun meets your gaze and he smiles. Oh, how you wish you could wipe that smile off of his face. Placing the dish right in front of him, you step back for him to taste it.

“Do you mind going through how you prepared this dish?” Jaehyun asks as he opens one of the drawers to pull out a spoon.

You clear your throat. “It is a deconstructed grapefruit and basil pie. It consists of grapefruit curd as a bed layer with basil jelly, graham crumbles, and Italian meringue.”

“Why did you choose to make Italian meringue instead of the usual meringue?” He asks.

“I chose to use Italian meringue for this dish because Italian meringue has a more marshmallowy, soft, fluffy consistency in comparison to ordinary meringue.” You explain. “I think the soft, fluffy texture of Italian meringue fits perfectly with the creamy grapefruit curd and basil jelly.”

“I’m going to take a spoonful of everything.” Jaehyun begins as he scoops a little bit of grapefruit curd mixed with graham crumbles, a single basil jelly, and a single Italian meringue. The both of you meet eyes and he puts the spoon into his mouth. 

As he’s taking a moment to savor the flavors, you let your head hang low. You’re expecting him to let out a frustrated sigh. You’re expecting him to come up with the rudest comment on your dish. It’s horrible. It tastes horrible. You’re waiting for those words to come out of his mouth—

“It’s… delicious.” 

Your head shoots up. He digs in for another spoonful of your deconstructed pie. “Sorry… what?”

“I said,” he says, “it’s delicious.”

You let out a breathless laugh. Were you hearing things right? Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow at you and you straighten up your posture. “Sorry, I just—this is the first time I’ve ever heard something nice coming from you.”

“It not only tastes delicious but it tastes familiar.” He mumbles softly. “It reminds me of this diner my parents used to take me to after basketball practice. The diner was somewhere near Yonsei University where my parents used to teach. That diner served grapefruit and basil pie. I think I was about twelve or thirteen years old. It’s been a while since I’ve had it but I could still remember it so vividly—”

“Mina’s Place?” You whisper.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows raise with surprise and his face is overcome with realization. Mina’s Place. The reason why he hasn’t been to the diner in a while is because it closed down when he made a visit. It was a sudden shutdown and his family never knew what happened to the owners. They were unique and both of his parents’ favorite place to wind down after a day of teaching culinary students. That diner’s grapefruit and basil pie had inspired him to follow the footsteps of his parents. It was the unusual pairing of basil and fruit that made him curious, it was what drove him to start cooking. 

“Yeah… Mina’s Place.” He mumbles softly. “It’s too bad it closed down too soon.”

Your head hangs low again. Mina’s Place was your mother’s product of hardwork and dedication. Your late mother had bought the space and created it into a diner where she was able to cook up whatever she wanted for her guests. It was what made her happy. But when your mother started to grow sick, it was your father that took over the diner in hopes that she would return. But your mother’s health continued to deteriorate until she passed away at an early age of forty-seven. Ever since her passing, the diner wasn’t the same. Your father had decided to sell the diner to a young couple who were looking to start their own restaurant. 

Your mother’s best-selling item on the menu was the grapefruit and basil pie. Until this day, you are grateful that she managed to pass the recipe down to you. You had loved and admired your mother’s love for cooking. You would spend most of your days watching her cook. You would ditch everything to learn how to cook, especially from your mother. The deconstructed pie that you had made for Jaehyun is a representation of how much you miss her and how much she inspired you.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Jaehyun looks at you confusedly. “Thank you for cherishing my mother’s passion, for cherishing her love of cooking. She would be thrilled to know that there was someone who loved her grapefruit and basil pie.”

“Y-You’re joking,” he shakes his head. “She’s your mother?”

You purse your lips into a tight line, nodding. “We closed down the place because she died of cancer. It didn’t make sense to take on the diner after her passing. My father had no idea how to cook.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry—”

“I decided to study culinary arts because it’s the only thing that reminds me of her. It’s the only thing that brings me closer to her. I also wanted to open up a diner in her honor, to celebrate her life. I think that’s what she truly wanted… to spend most of her life with her family and at the diner.” You chuckle, wiping away a tear that slides down your cheek. “And don’t apologize. You had no idea.”

“But still, I—”

“I’ve decided to stick with my decision regardless of whether you enjoyed my dish or not. I’m going to withdraw from the competition.” You clasp your hands together. 

Jaehyun watches you as you carefully take off your apron. You place the apron right next to your dish before bowing to him. “Y/N, no—”

“Thank you for everything, chef. It was an honor cooking for you and I’m glad you enjoyed the pie.”

“Y/N, no, please. Stay here with—” Me. That’s what he wants to say. It almost terrifies him that this is the first thing that crosses his mind. It catches him off guard. He’s never had the urge to let you stay. He’s never been afraid of losing you. He’s never been terrified of slowly realizing your importance and your effect on him. “The other contestants. You’re worthy of the chance. Just like them.”

“I’ve already told the producers—”

“We can always take it back. You can always take it back.” He cuts you off. “Don’t withdraw. You have so many more things to accomplish, to conquer, to show off. You have talent, Y/N. Withdrawing from the competition will be the biggest mistake of your life—”

“Please don’t say all of that if you don’t even mean it—”

“I mean it. Stay.” He’s so close to begging. “Your mother was one of the few driving forces that led me to becoming a chef. If it weren’t for your mother, I probably wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now.”

“You’re lying,” you shake your head in disbelief. “You’re just making this hard for me.”

“Stay for your mother. I’m sure she would want you to finish the competition regardless of whether you win or not—”

“But you wanted me gone since the first round—” Never. He never wanted you to leave. He wanted you to stay. He wanted to help you. He wanted to encourage you to work hard for your dreams. 

“Do it for her. Do it for Mina’s Place.”

You fall silent. For a moment, you could hear your mother’s voice chanting you on. You could hear her giggles and laughter. You could see her bright smile. It makes your eyes glassy. Your eyes trail down towards the pie that you made. As you fixate on the pie, you wipe away a few more tears.

“Yes, chef. I’ll stay.”

“How did you change her mind?”

Taeyong stands next to Jaehyun and watches you as you return your things back into their respective drawers at your station. Taeyong, along with Doyoung, had expected your station to be empty the following morning. But there you were, absolutely present, setting up your station before the next round of the competition begins. Jaehyun shoves his hands into his pockets and watches you intently, not being able to tear his gaze away from you.

“Let’s just say I worked my magic,” he answers softly. 

Doyoung glances at his co-judge, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. He follows Jaehyun’s line of sight and it lands on you. Taeyong seems to pick it up as well and a cheeky grin spreads across his lips. Taeyong has worked with Jaehyun for many years. They opened up one three-Michelin starred restaurant in Florence together and they ran the restaurant for many years. From Jaehyun’s inner thoughts to his feelings, Taeyong knows him so well. In fact, Taeyong hasn’t seen Jaehyun like this in so long. 

Work has been the main priority for Jaehyun. Taeyong was always trying to get his best friend to loosen up and meet some people while they were in Italy. But Jaehyun was always closed up and always stayed back in the kitchen. It was sad for Taeyong to see his best friend have a lack of social life—moreover, a dating life. Jaehyun’s last relationship was a couple of years ago and it ended on horrible terms. In particular, his breakup happened right before he boarded his flight to Italy. Taeyong knows that it left such a negative impact on his best friend. Jaehyun had promised to never fall in love again after his breakup, devoting his entire life to cooking and being in the kitchen… never leaving it once. 

But seeing how Jaehyun looks at you, Taeyong is starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Alright, chefs! We’ll be starting in ten minutes! Relax, grab a drink, and we’ll regroup.” Doyoung announces. 

You suck in a deep breath, heading towards the water dispenser to get yourself a cup of water. Taeil follows behind you, grabbing himself a cup of water too. He tilts his head in confusion, analyzing your every move. You seem to notice and when the two of you finally make it up to the balcony that oversees the entire kitchen, you face him.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask.

Taeil shakes his head. “No! No, not at all. I was just—I thought you said you were going to withdraw from the competition.”

You take a swig of your water. “I did. But… I changed my mind. I decided to stay.”

“What changed your mind?” Taeil questions. Everyone’s beginning to gather at the balcony before the new round of the competition begins. 

Before you could even answer Taeil’s question, Chef Jaehyun stands in the space between you two. He leans over the railing of the balcony. You and Taeil share a look. You clear your throat, adding a bit more distance between you and Chef Jaehyun. Taeil studies your body language and it’s almost as if he reads your mind. Ah, Chef Jaehyun changed your mind. 

“Ah, I see.” Taeil slowly nods his head. “Well, good luck, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll do well in the next round.”

Taeil leaves you and Chef Jaehyun alone to talk with other contestants. You’re looking everywhere but at Chef Jaehyun, busying yourself by the water in your cup. 

Jaehyun can’t comprehend what’s going on with him. He can’t find the courage to look at you. But when he does, he can’t seem to breathe because his heartbeat picks up its pace. He clears his throat. “Are you ready for the next round?”

You finally look at him. You straighten up your posture. “Yes, chef.”

“Y/N, no, please. Stay here with—the other contestants. You’re worthy of the chance. Just like them.”

“Don’t withdraw. You have so many more things to accomplish, to conquer, to show off. You have talent, Y/N. Withdrawing from the competition will be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“I mean it. Stay. Your mother was one of the few driving forces that led me to becoming a chef. If it weren’t for your mother, I probably wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now.”

It’s hard to get rid of Chef Jaehyun’s voice out of your head. Whatever happened a couple of nights ago in the kitchen felt a bit too intimate. You were cooking one of your best dishes, a dish that meant a lot to you, for one of the most famous chefs in the world. It was just the two of you in the kitchen. Chef Jaehyun had begged you to stay in the competition. All of those events that night were driving you crazy.

What Chef Jaehyun does next snaps you out of your thoughts. He places his hand on your head and ruffles your hair. Your eyes slightly widen and you freeze. “Good luck.”

When he leaves to speak with the other contestants, you’re left all alone by the balcony with a heart beating so fast. You almost drop your cup of water but you catch yourself just in time. You place a hand over your heart as if it’ll help it stop beating so fast.

There’s been a shift between you and Chef Jaehyun ever since that night. 

You’ve always despised Chef Jaehyun. You didn’t even like him to begin with. Not one single bit. 

But now… you’re not quite sure anymore. 

“There are only two more rounds left in the competition. But this round determines who has a chance to be the next MasterChef. Who will make it to the final round of MasterChef? We shall find out! For today’s challenge, the three of you will be paired up with one of us to cook up a special meal for your own friends.”

There are three contestants left in the competition. Those contestants are you, Taeil, and Seokjin. Each one of you is called up to the front to pick a slip of paper from a box. The chef that’s on your chosen slip of paper will be the chef that you will be paired up to cook with. Whoever you end up with wouldn’t matter because the three of them are perfect in their own way.

Chef Jaehyun is a perfectionist. He’s also competitive. He loves making sure that the food he puts out is more than perfect. It gives him relief and satisfaction knowing that his customers love the food that he makes for them. He’s surely known all over the world for being overly meticulous. He’s also known for running many successful restaurants. He has strong ties with restaurants in Florence. Being paired up with Chef Jaehyun means that you are guaranteed to make a successful dish.

Chef Taeyong is also a perfectionist but not as competitive as Chef Jaehyun. He always makes sure that he thoroughly enjoys the process of cooking. He’s almost like a mother. He cooks for people because he genuinely enjoys doing it. It’s a hobby that he enjoys doing and somehow, it brings him fortune and success. Being paired up with Chef Taeyong means that you’ll not only make a perfect dish, but you’ll also have fun making it and create a story along with it.

Chef Doyoung is not a perfectionist, but he has a great sense of his ingredients. He knows the compatibility of ingredients, which is something every chef wants to have. It’s a trait that is rare to find in chefs. This trait had led him to win MasterChef when he was a contestant. To others, his dishes might be ambiguous but once people try it, they would have never imagined such a dish to work out. Being paired up with Chef Doyoung means that you are willing to take risks that will elevate your dish and bring out uniqueness. 

When you open your slip of paper, you almost let out a laugh.

Chef Jaehyun.

Fate loves playing games with you. 

“I got Chef Jaehyun,” you hold up your slip of paper. You and Taeil exchange looks. 

When your eyes meet Chef Jaehyun’s, he bites back a smile that’s threatening to spread across his lips. The two other chefs can’t seem to hold back their smiles either. You look down, growing too shy with all of the attention on you.

“I got Chef Taeyong.” Taeil shows his slip of paper.

“And that means I got Chef Doyoung.” Seokjin finishes, holding up his slip of paper.

“Perfect. We’ll start in five minutes. During these five minutes, we will all discuss with our partners and plan out our dishes accordingly.” Chef Taeyong announces.

When Chef Jaehyun heads over to your workstation, you can’t seem to compose yourself. Your mind is going insane. You’re not sure if you’re going to end up regretting having Chef Jaehyun as your partner or be grateful that he could help you secure a spot in the finals. 

“I’m surprised you’re not sick and tired of me yet,” he mumbles. “It’s just always gonna be you and me, huh?”

“I’m surprised you’re not sick and tired of me yet either,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“I guess fate likes the two of us together.” He says, avoiding your gaze.

“I’m sure fate hates me and is punishing me by pairing me up with you.” You mutter underneath your breath. 

“I heard that.”

“You were supposed to.”

Working together with Chef Jaehyun is a pain in the ass. 

“The sashimi should be cut like this!” 

“Yeah, I know! I can see it!” 

It’s been non-stop bickering for the past fifteen minutes. There’s forty-five minutes left before you have to send out your dishes to your friends. With the grin planted across Chef Jaehyun’s lips, you’re not sure if he’s doing this for fun or if he’s genuinely being strict and serious. 

“You’re in the way.” You nudge him aside to grab the bottle of Japanese mayonnaise. “Do you mind checking on my rolls?”

“They look good—”

“You didn’t even look at them!” You look at him as if he had ten heads.

“I don’t need to look at them to know if they look good or not.” He rolls his California rolls. “You need to be more confident in yourself. Do you think they look good?”

“Of course, because I made them.” You fold your arms.

“Then they look good! You have to trust yourself, Y/N.” He slices through the California roll before rolling each of them into Panko. “I feel like you don’t trust yourself enough.”

Chef Jaehyun’s right. You don’t trust yourself enough. When he notices how silent you’ve gotten, he finally takes a look at your California rolls. He analyzes the contents of your roll before smiling. “It looks perfect to me. You see, I didn’t need to look at them to tell you that they’re good. You put the right amount of crab meat. There’s a balance between the crab meat and rice. The roll is consistent. The rice is sticky enough. It’s perfect, Y/N, stop doubting yourself.”

“Really…?”

“Really. Now, get back to work because we don’t have much time left.”

As the two of you both get back to work, Jaehyun can’t seem to stop himself from smiling. If there was one thing he wanted to do with someone special to him, it was to make a meal together. He learns more about someone through the art of cooking. You’re an expert at baking and inherited those skills from your mother. You know your spices so well that they come to you so naturally. You know how to balance your ingredients. You know when two ingredients work and when it doesn’t. 

You’re the complete opposite of him. Jaehyun is an expert at everything but baking. He doesn’t have a great sense of spices and would often plan out his dishes carefully. Making a perfect dish doesn’t come naturally to him. He’s more on the practical side of cooking. Jaehyun thinks you’re the perfect match for him. Whether it be in the kitchen or as someone he’d like to pursue… he’s not sure. 

It would be a huge lie if Jaehyun wasn’t attracted to you. He doesn’t know when the switch happened. Maybe he liked you from the start. 

It’s almost as if fate had you written in his stars. When Jaehyun had been dumped by his ex-girlfriend right before he boarded his plane to Florence, he was devastated. He was devastated knowing that his ex-girlfriend whom he was planning on proposing to was cheating on him that entire time. He was devastated knowing that he lost one of his few passions; the love of his life. Heartbroken. Closed off. Focus on working. Focus on hustle culture. Never falling in love again. That was Jaehyun’s mindset.

But now that he thinks about it and all the encounters you’ve had with him, meeting you for the first time in Florence must be a fateful encounter. From spilling expensive wine all over his shirt to serving him a horrible dish as a culinary intern, no matter how embarrassing those experiences were, it must be fate. You make him worry about you. You make him think about you a bit too often. He goes out of his way to make sure nothing horrible happens to you. He doesn’t want you to be hurt.

Meeting you may be a special event that has happened in his life.

“Chef? Chef…?”

He snaps out of his thoughts. You’re giving him a funny look.

“You were saying?”

“You have some seaweed on your face, chef.”

“I-I do? Where—”

Before he could even wipe his face with his hands, you’re already reaching up to rub off the seaweed crumbs off of his face. He freezes in his spot. His eyes look down to meet yours. When you finally brush the seaweed crumbs off of his crimson red cheeks, your eyes shift to his. It’s your turn to freeze. Out of instinct, Jaehyun gently holds your arms. He holds you so carefully… almost cautiously. Somehow, he can’t speak. Somehow, everything that surrounds the two of you becomes nothing but white noise. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips. 

“You have fifteen minutes left! Fifteen minutes!”

You both are startled, repelling from each other. To calm your unsteady heart, you focus on finishing your last few sushi rolls before you begin plating them. Jaehyun stands more than a meter away from you, not making any sort of conversation with you for the remainder of the fifteen minutes. His heart is beating so fast that he’s afraid you could hear it ramming out of his chest.

It’s all starting to make sense. To him, at least.

He’s slowly—but surely—falling in love with you.

The morning of the final round of MasterChef, you wake up still in disbelief that you’re one step closer to becoming the champion. In the semi-finals, your great teamwork with Chef Jaehyun has secured you a spot in the finals, giving you a bigger chance of winning the entire competition. There’s no backing down for you. The possibility that your dreams can come true is still surreal for you and now you’re willing to put in all the effort to make sure that possibility becomes reality. 

As soon as you enter the kitchen, you spot none other than Taeil, who’s already setting up his station. You and Taeil both find it funny how although you’re both closest to each other and have become good friends in the competition, here you both are, competing against each other to become the champion of MasterChef. It’s a friendly competition. You can’t imagine finishing the entire competition with anyone else.

“Hello, chef.” You greet him.

“Good morning, Y/N. Today is the day.” He smiles. “Good luck. Let the MasterChef win.”

Everyone begins to gather around. Your friends and family and Taeil’s friends and family. The three chef judges make their ways to the front after getting their hair and makeup done. The kitchen is set up differently this time around. Instead of the normal rectangular work stations, the station is set up as a circle that surrounds both you and Taeil. The two of you will work on opposite sides of the circle.

As you and Taeil get settled and wait for filming to start, your eyes catch Chef Jaehyun’s. You’re almost surprised and a bit taken aback to catch him already looking at you. He’s dressed up quite nice today. He’s wearing an indigo suit with his hair styled back. He has such prominent eyebrows, you notice, since he’s always had his hair down. He’s… handsome. 

And he smiles at you.

Not knowing what to do in return, you flash him a small, timid smile before looking away. In just a few minutes, the final round will begin and your fate will be determined. You spot your father who’s wiping away tears with his handkerchief. Sitting in his arms is a framed picture of your mother. Your eyes slowly tear up but you blink them away. 

“We will start in three… two… one… action!”

“Welcome everyone, to the final round of MasterChef.”

“Today, we will find out who is this season’s MasterChef.”

“Will it be Taeil? Or Y/N? We shall find out!”

For the final round of MasterChef, you and Taeil will be cooking up three dishes for the chef judges. The first dish will be the appetizer. Following the first dish is the entree. The third and final dish is the dessert. You and Taeil were given a week to figure out what you’re going to serve the chef judges. You have decided to base your dishes around the theme of apples. All three of your dishes contain apples.

The first round of three begins and you’re cooking up your first dish. For your first dish, you’re creating a scotch quail egg that will rest on top of a bed of parsnips and potatoes. You envision this dish to replicate a bird’s nest, where the bed of parsnips and potatoes act as the nest that protects the scotch quail egg. The scotch quail egg is different, however, because you will incorporate apples into the coating that surrounds it. 

“Your time starts now!”

You and Taeil busy yourselves at your own sides of the circle. You’re beginning your dish by boiling a pot of water for your quail eggs. At the same time, you’re bringing out the ground pork and a couple of red gala apples. As you’re cutting the gala apples, you make sure to cut them into cubes to make them stand out in the scotch egg. From the corner of your eye, you can see Chef Jaehyun step off of the stage to head towards you.

“Hello, Y/N.” He greets you as he approaches your side of the station. “What are you making for us?”

“A scotch quail egg,” you mumble.

“With apples?” You hum in reply. “And what are you going to do with the potatoes?”

“I’m going to slice them up to replicate a nest for the quail eggs to rest on.” You answer.

“That seems like a bit of an easy dish, don’t you think?” He purses his lips into a tight line. “Do you think it’ll be enough to impress us?”

“Yes,” you mumble, trying your best not to let him distract you. 

“Are you sure your quail eggs are going to be cooked properly? They shouldn’t be—”

“Overcooked, yes, I am very much aware of that, Chef Jaehyun.” You cut him off.

He chuckles. Your ears perk up. “It seems like you don’t want me around. Am I distracting you?”

“Yes,” you answer and everyone around you laughs. “I guess you’ll just have to see what I have planned for you when I serve it to you later.”

“Sounds good. I’m excited to see what you bring to the table, Y/N.” He searches for your eyes, but they’re busy looking at other things. In reality, you’re just too shy to look at him. “Good luck, Y/N.”

“Thanks, chef.”

Returning to your station, you keep the judges’ comments on your appetizer in your thoughts to improve on the next dish. The next dish that you’re going to cook up for them is the entree. Because your appetizer was easy to make, this left you ample time to begin preparing for your entree. You plan to serve the chef judges an entree dish that you call, rabbit two ways, in which you will serve them two different kinds of rabbit meat while incorporating bursts of apple flavors into it. The timer starts and you and Taeil get to work.

“I like how you presented this dish. It looks like a bird’s nest!”

Chef Taeyong’s comments on your dish had given you the motivation and desire to win the competition. From the start of the competition all the way to the final round, Chef Taeyong has been nothing but encouraging and genuine. All of his comments and advice shaped you into who you are as a chef today, at this very moment. 

“Although there are some burnt potatoes and parsnips in my dish, I think that it surprisingly complemented the sweet flavors of the apple in the scotch egg.”

Chef Doyoung, a MasterChef champion, is someone you always looked up to. You remember watching the season that he was competing in and having a gut feeling that he would make it to the final round. There was something special about Chef Doyoung and his dishes. Every dish he created had its own story, and of course, it would always look and taste delicious. Hearing his comments throughout your journey in the competition has also helped you learn and create a chef’s mindset. 

“I think I would definitely serve something like this as an appetizer at one of my restaurants. The presentation is spot on. I couldn’t have imagined a scotch egg to be presented in any other way. It’s almost as if you’re recreating nature, mother nature I would say, through your dishes. The flavors balance so well, which is not surprising because you’ve always had a good sense of your spices. Very well done, Y/N.”

Chef Jaehyun, although you disliked him at first, has truly been the one who wanted to see you succeed. Ever since he had tried to change your mind about withdrawing from the competition you couldn’t help but think that he was the one who truly liked you and your performance in the competition all along. If he didn’t try to change your mind, you would have probably withdrawn from the competition and returned back to the starting position of your journey. Chef Jaehyun has made you realize that if you truly want something, you have to work extremely hard for it. He made you realize that you’re better than what you think and most of the time, you’re just being hard on yourself. Someday, you plan on thanking him for being tough on you because it helped you on your journey to becoming a chef.

As you heat up the pan on the stove, you slice and dice up your apples to fuse them with the rabbit meat. Placing them onto the pan, you begin creating your artichoke puree that will amplify the flavors of the dish. From time to time, you could check up on the rabbit meat to make sure that you weren’t overcooking it. Overcooking rabbit meat would be horrifying because it would only mean that you would have to cook a new batch in so little time. It is extremely crucial to your dish. 

“You have fifteen minutes left!”

You spent the remaining fifteen minutes focusing on the rabbit meat since you have finished making the artichoke puree. After already beginning to plate your dish with the puree, you place the rabbit meat onto a frying rack to drain out the oil. Your hands are shaking out of complete nervousness. You want this so bad. But the fact that you’re serving a dish that you haven’t even tasted is such a huge risk to take. 

“Five minutes left!”

Drizzling a bit more of the artichoke puree on top of the rabbit meat, your nervous hands cause you to drizzle a bit more than needed. Pulling out a clean towel, you wipe off some of the puree that scattered on the sides of the dish. Glancing up at the time, you have one minute left to spare. You take these last few seconds to make sure everything looks good before handing them over to the servers.

“Time’s up! Hands up! Servers, please head to the back to serve the dishes.”

The last and final dish you are going to serve the chef judges is dessert. Dessert is your expertise. Everyone is aware that if there was one thing you excelled at as a chef, it would be through your desserts. You would like to thank your mother for exposing you to the world of baking at such a young age. It truly helped you later on in life, especially in this competition. For this dish, you decided to create a dish that represented a fallen apple or an apple that has fallen from an apple tree. The dish is simply an apple panna cotta, but you will be presenting it in such a way that it looks like an apple that has fallen onto the ground. This dish is going to tie up your ‘apple’ series and hopefully help you win the competition.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m back.” Chef Jaehyun smiles as he visits you at your station once again.

You smile back at him. “Hi, Chef Jaehyun. Is there anything I could help you with?”

“You could help me by letting me know what you’re planning on serving us for dessert.” He grins. 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” you mumble softly. 

“Mysterious.” He nods his head as he begins to move on to Taeil’s station. “You’re going to surprise us?”

“Yes, chef.” You reply.

“Well, I hope it’ll be worth the surprise! Good luck, Y/N.”

“Thanks, chef!”

For your dish, you’re not planning on serving them a whole apple. You’re going to recreate the apple by making apple jelly. The apple jelly will be shaped like an apple by pouring the mixture into a silicone tray. Since an apple has seeds in the middle, you are going to toast up some pine nut seeds and place them into the middle of the jelly mixture once it’s set. To recreate the red color of an apple, you are going to place a red glaze all over the jelly. Since this dish is going to replicate a fallen apple, you are going to recreate soil by grinding up a mixture of nuts and raisins. This will act as the bed for the fallen apple. Lastly, you are going to recreate the leaves of the apple tree by using sugar and water, and the twigs of the branches with a sweet dough.

“You have twenty minutes left!”

You pull out your silicone trays and you nearly have a heart attack. The jelly is not completely set but you don’t have much time left to keep it in the fridge. You still have to plate the entire dish. Taking the toasted pine nut seeds off the stove, you place them onto a tray to cool down. One by one, you shove pine nut seeds into the apple jelly. The seeds keep popping back up, which confirms that your apple jelly still isn’t set properly. But with the time you have left, you have to take this risk. 

“Ten minutes left!”

You begin plating your dish. To plate your apple-themed dessert, you grab the bowl of fake soil that you created with an assortment of nuts and raisins and scoop out two spoons to create a bed for the fallen apple. After you do that on three plates, you carefully pop out the apple jelly from the silicone tray and place it on top of the soil. Then, to decorate the apple jelly, you stick your fake twigs into the jelly and place sugar leaves on top. As you grab the pot of red glaze, you stop in your tracks. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see Chef Jaehyun looking at you as you freeze in your spot. You look deep in thought. Suddenly, you shake your head and place the pot of red glaze back onto the countertop. He tilts his head in confusion.

“Ten seconds left!” 

Everyone is beginning to count down and you’re making final touches to your dish. Taeil, on the other hand, already has his hands up to indicate that he’s already done.

“Time’s up! Hands up! Servers, please take the dishes to the back.”

“Alright, Y/N, please tell us what you have served for us.”

Stepping forward, you clear your throat. Each one of them looks at you with anticipation, but it makes you grow even more nervous. You feel more nervous than how you were at the start of the competition. When your eyes meet Chef Jaehyun’s, your mind can’t help but go blank. He gives you an encouraging smile and it’s enough for you to snap back to your senses.

“For dessert, I’ve recreated a fallen apple by making an apple panna cotta. The fallen apple is supported by a bed of soil which is recreated with an assortment of nuts and raisins. To replicate the twigs and leaves of the apple tree, I’ve made a dough for the twigs and used a sugar glaze for the leaves.” You describe your dish. All of their eyebrows raise. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“I saw you holding a pot of red glaze earlier and I assumed that you were going to use that to glaze over the apple jelly. But I see that you’ve decided not to use it. Is there a particular reason why you decided to do that?” Chef Jaehyun asks as he’s digging into your dessert by taking a bit of everything onto his spoon.

“I decided not to use red glaze for this dish because I felt like it would look a little bit too fake. I also think that it wouldn’t match the overall colors of the dish.” You explain. 

Chef Jaehyun smiles. “I think that was good judgment on your part. If it doesn’t look like it belongs on your dish, then don’t add it. Well done, Y/N.”

“Let’s all dig in.” Chef Doyoung insists.

As they all taste your dish, you nervously fiddle with your fingers. After they have all finished tasting the different components of your dish, they look back up at you.

“I think this is a unique dish, Y/N.” Chef Taeyong begins. He’s the first one to make a comment on your dessert. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The presentation is spot on again. I really like the balance of sweetness from the apple jelly and the richness of the soil. I enjoyed this dish. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, chef.” You mumble.

“I agree with Chef Taeyong.” Chef Doyoung smiles. “I really like how the jelly melts in your mouth and how this is counteracted by the crunchy texture of the nuts. The presentation of the dish is executed very well, it looks like a fallen apple. You’ve done a beautiful job, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much, chef.” 

“I agree with all of them.” Chef Jaehyun chuckles. “I see why you decided not to add red glaze to this dish. It would have completely ruined it. I am not one who likes desserts, but this has completely changed it for me. I love how it has the right amount of sweetness. The nuts balance well with the sweetness due to it being so rich in flavor. I would also serve something like this at my restaurant. You’ve come a long way, Y/N. You’ve done an excellent job in finishing up your three-course apple menu.”

“Wow, that means a lot, thank you so much.” You sigh with relief.

“Alright, we’re going to have a bit of a meeting now.” Chef Doyoung chuckles. “The two of you can go back and meet with your family while we go over your dishes and choose this season’s MasterChef.”

“Good luck, Y/N and Taeil.”

“We have finally come to a decision.”

Everyone is gathered near the front of the kitchen. The three judges are standing right in front of you. You and Taeil share glances. Taeil flashes you a huge smile that you mirror back at him. It feels like a dream standing in front of the three chef judges, waiting for them to announce the winner of MasterChef. The journey that you took on this competition is one that you will never forget and one that will change your life forever. 

“It was hard to choose a winner for this season’s MasterChef.” Chef Taeyong begins. “Because the two of you have come such a long way since the start of the competition. The two of you have been through tough challenges and elimination tests, but you persevered, and that’s why you’re standing here today.”

“You have both improved and learned a lot since you started your journey here at MasterChef, and your journey continues even after the competition.” Chef Jaehyun clasps his hands together. “I personally think this season is my favorite. This final round has been special. You both served dishes that we have never even seen in the previous seasons of MasterChef. The both of you should be extremely proud of yourselves for making it this far.”

“But we do have to choose one MasterChef winner. The winner will be getting the first prize and a chance to open up their own restaurant or catering service. This will put you out into the field of cuisine and culinary arts, something that we’re all sure that you both came here for.” Chef Doyoung smiles. “Shall we announce the winner?”

“I think we should.” Chef Taeyong chuckles. “It was such a hard decision but…”

“But we have finally chosen this season’s MasterChef.” Chef Doyoung finishes it for him. “Y/N, Taeil, could you please step up to the front?”

You and Taeil head towards the front, hand in hand. Taeil gives your hand a tight, reassuring squeeze. Standing right behind him is his own family. Standing behind you are your relatives and your father, but also your mother, who’s looking down at you from the sky. 

“This season’s MasterChef is…”

You close your eyes. Your heart begins to beat faster than horsepower. You would feel like the only woman in the world if you hear your name being called out. Standing right here, with Taeil, in front of three world-renowned chefs, is another reminder of how much you wanted this, why you started this journey, and what you want out of it. It’s not only for you, but for your mother, who would always chase her dreams. 

“Congratulations, because you are this season’s MasterChef…”

“Y/N! Congratulations, you are this season’s MasterChef!”

It’s all a blur. Confetti shoots up into the air and falls down like snowflakes. You open your eyes when you feel yourself being attacked by your family with hugs. Taeil’s hand never lets go of yours and he pulls you into a tight, celebratory hug. Your eyes well up with tears. 

You can’t believe it.

If only your mother was here to celebrate your win with you. But you’re sure that she’s up in the skies, cheering you on, celebrating your achievement. It’s hard to breathe because it all feels so surreal. When you blink away your tears, your vision becomes clear again and you see the three chef judges coming in to join the big hug. Chef Jaehyun falls within sight and you share gazes.

He flashes you a wide, warm, genuine smile while mouthing ‘congratulations’.

Your heart skips a beat but you pay no attention to it.

You mouth back a ‘thank you, chef’.

AFTER MASTERCHEF.

It’s been a couple of months since you won MasterChef and you’ve been assigned to work alongside Chef Doyoung at one of his new branch locations. You’ve been assigned this job in the meantime while you renovate your new diner that you’ve always wished of running. 

If Jaehyun were to be honest, he was quite sad (or should he say, jealous, but he will never admit it) that you were assigned to work with Doyoung. The days after MasterChef have been uneventful and boring. Everywhere he looks, it reminds him of you. Everything he does, it reminds him of you. Stubborn to admit it, he misses it. He misses you.

And so when he steps inside of Doyoung’s new branch location of his restaurant, Doie, he hopes that he could catch you there. Why? Because finding you has been extremely difficult these days. 

As he steps into the restaurant, he heads straight to the front desk. The woman working at the front slowly looks up and upon realizing who’s standing right in front of her, her posture straightens.  

He flashes her a warm smile. “Is Chef Y/N here?” 

“O-Oh! You’re Chef Jaehyun!” She exclaims. 

He smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes, that’s me. I decided to drop by and check this place out. I had only found out that Chef Y/N was assigned to work here in the meantime before the opening of Mina’s Place.” 

“Unfortunately, Chef Y/N already left. She left a couple of hours ago to attend to some personal matters.” The woman frowns, spinning a pen in between her fingers. 

“Oh, is that so?” He’s trying so hard to hide the disappointment in his eyes. “I guess I was a bit too late.”

“Do you want me to pass a message on to her, chef?” She asks insistently. 

“Oh, there’s no need. I guess I’ll just drop by tomorrow.” He says with defeat.

Why is it that it used to be so easy to bump into you? Why is it that it’s become so difficult to bump into you now? Why is it so hard to cross paths with you now? It’s been so easy to find you before. But now, when he tries to find you, he can’t. It’s grown into a difficult game of hide and seek.

“Actually—” Jaehyun begins before cutting himself off. “I’ll be right back.”

He rushes out of the restaurant and spots a flower shop right across the road. Stepping inside of the flower shop, he’s greeted by an elderly woman who’s watering a fresh batch of tulips. She places the pail of water back onto the black and white tiled floor. 

“Hello, young man, how can I help you?” 

He lets his eyes wander around the shop. He can’t seem to figure out what to get. 

“I’ve been wanting to get a bouquet of flowers, but I’m not quite sure which flowers to put together.” He scratches the back of his head. 

She giggles sheepishly. “Is it for a young lady that’s taken your interest?”

He’s caught off guard by the question. He lets out a shaky, breathy laugh. There’s no way he could be feeling this way for you. Even if he does feel like you’re someone special to him, it’s something that will take a while for him to understand. Liking you is one thing but falling in love with you is another.

“I—I mean—Yeah, I guess so?” He sounds confused.

She tilts her head. “You guess so? Well, young man, the fact that you’ve stepped foot into my shop to get a lovely lady a bouquet of flowers must mean something. She must be someone special.”

The old woman has a point. He wouldn’t be going out of his way to do all of this for you. He wouldn’t be trying to find you. He wouldn’t have the urge to talk to you, to get to know you more. 

“I guess you’re right,” he slowly nods his head when everything slowly becomes clear for him. “Alright. Do you mind putting a bouquet together for a young woman that I’ve taken interest in? I want her to like me just as much as I like her.”

The old woman breaks out into a wide smile. 

“Right away, sir.” 

When the bouquet of white daisies and red tulips is wrapped and bundled together with a plastic wrap, Jaehyun pays for the old woman’s efforts and time before heading back to the restaurant across the road. But before he leaves the flower shop, the old woman gives him words of encouragement. He gives her two thumbs up and heads back. 

The woman standing at the front eyes the bouquet of flowers in his hands when he enters. He places the bouquet on top of the counter. “I’m back.”

“You’re back, indeed.”

“Do you mind giving Y/N these flowers when he comes in tomorrow? You could place them in a vase to keep them fresh too.” He asks.

She nods her head. “Will do, chef.”

“Alright, thank you so much. I’ll head on out now—”

“Chef Jaehyun, are you sure you’re just going to give her the bouquet of flowers without a note?”

Shoot. He turns back around. “You’re right, I didn’t write a note.”

She slides over a stack of sticky notes and her own pen. “Here you go, chef.”

He grabs the stack of sticky notes and walks over to one of the tables for two. He plops his butt down onto one of the chairs and thinks about what to write and what type of note he wants to leave you. To him, it seems like he’s been sitting there for hours. There are so many things he wants to tell you, but he’ll have to say them one by one.

To Y/N, 

I dropped by Doie in hopes of seeing you. Would love to meet and catch up with you over a cup of coffee. I miss hope that we could get in touch soon. On the back of the note is my number. Hope to hear from you soon.

Jaehyun

“A short video?”

The production team exchanges looks before nodding their head. Jaehyun has been called to have a meeting with one of the food companies that he helps endorse. The company is popular for their gluten-free food products. From gluten-free flour to gluten-free bread, the company most likely carries it. It was the first brand that Jaehyun endorsed mainly because he’s always been picky with his food, especially since his mother’s allergic to gluten. 

“Yes! With Chef Y/N! It’s a promotion video for one of the new brands we’re carrying here at the supermarket. We’re planning on having the both of you shop around one of our supermarkets and use the groceries to create a dessert for Valentine’s Day.” One of the PR managers explains.

“Did Chef Y/N agree to do the video?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes, she just got back to us this morning. She’s interested in doing the video.” Another PR joins the conversation. 

“Great. I’ll do the video.”

Everyone looks at each other weirdly. That was such a fast response. They always had trouble negotiating with Jaehyun mainly because of his busy life. But this time, it was different.

“O-Oh? That’s perfect, chef!”

“When do we start?”

A couple of weeks later, you arrive at a supermarket that’s been closed off to the public until noon. It’s been a while since you last saw Chef Jaehyun. You were quite surprised to hear that he had decided to do the cooking video with you. You were even more surprised when the PR team had told you that the MasterChef viewers had voted for the two of you to collaborate for the video. As for the reasons why the viewers voted for the two of you specifically… you still have no idea.

“Chef Jaehyun will be arriving in a bit, he’s running late because of traffic.” The videographer informs you. 

“No worries, I’ll keep myself busy in the meantime.” You smile, heading inside of the supermarket to take a look at the groceries. 

You start off in the produce section, trying to see what you can come up with for the video. There are fresh large strawberries that you think would be perfect for chocolate-covered strawberries. After all, you and Chef Jaehyun are supposed to create a dish that would be perfect for Valentine’s Day. You try to look for other alternatives, steering away from doing the basics. 

“Miss Y/N? Chef Jaehyun has arrived. He’s just outside of the supermarket.” One of the PR interns approaches you, almost startling you.

“Oh! Yes, alright, I’ll head on over with you right now.” You join her as you both walk back outside of the supermarket. 

As you walk through the automatic doors, the first thing you spot is a tall figure standing a few meters away. He’s talking to the videographers and the PR interns who are telling him what they have planned for the video. You hesitantly approach them, mumbling a soft, “hello.”

When Chef Jaehyun turns towards you, you see his eyes slightly widen before a flame ignites within them. For a brief moment, you get lost in his eyes because you find yourself focusing more on trying to steady your fast heartbeat. When you come back to your senses, you’re the first to look away. 

He clears his throat and you feel his shoulder brush against yours. “Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

“Nice seeing you too, chef.” You mumble softly. Why do you feel shy?

“Are the two of you ready to start filming? From the scripts that we sent you, it’s going to be a casual type of video.” The videographer explains. “Just to briefly brush over what we have planned for the video, the two of you will be shopping for groceries that the company carries and sells and you will both cook up a dish together. It will be Valentine’s Day themed.”

The both of you slowly nod. “Are you ready?”

You look up to see Chef Jaehyun already looking down at you. You flash him a small, timid smile. “Ready, chef.”

“Perfect! Let’s start with the filming. Be yourselves and of course, have fun!” The videographer clasps his hands together and he pulls out his camera. 

You brace yourself.

It’s going to be a long day, that’s for sure.

“Hello everyone, I’m Chef Jaehyun.”

“And I’m Chef Y/N.” 

“And today, we’ll be shopping around for ingredients to cook up a meal that you could cook for your loved ones this Valentine’s Day.” 

Chef Jaehyun pushes the cart while you look for some fresh fruits in the produce section. The two of you have agreed to cook two different dishes, a dessert and a main course. Chef Jaehyun will be in charge of the main course dish while you will be in charge of the dessert. 

“To spice things up, we have a couple of questions to answer while we shop.” You begin while you’re grabbing a bag of raspberries. 

“You’re going to play the couple game!” One of the PR interns says from her script. Your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets. You don’t remember a couple game written in the script. From the surprised look on Chef Jaehyun’s face, you don’t think he remembers it either. “We will give you two options and the both of you will answer on the count of three. Think of it as a compatibility game!”

“C-Couple game? Compatibility game?” Chef Jaehyun chuckles sheepishly. 

“First question! Fried chicken or pizza? One… two… three!”

“Chicken.” You both answer in unison.

“Wow, the compatibility is strong right off the bat.” The PR intern giggles. “Next question! Snow or rain? One… two… three!”

“Snow.” You both answer in unison again. 

“Wow, this must be fate.” The PR intern swoons. “Third question! Ice cream or cake? One… two… three!”

“Ice cream.” Chef Jaehyun answers.

“Cake.” You answer.

“The last few questions will only get interesting from here. Next question!” The PR exclaims. “Fall in love with your childhood best friend or fall in love with a celebrity! One… two… three!” 

“Fall in love with your childhood best friend.” You both answer.

“Interesting. Next question!” The PR continues to read off of her list of questions. “Choose the one who likes me or choose the one I like the most? One… two… three!”

“The one that I like the most.” You both answer. The PR intern grins as if her mission was accomplished successfully. 

After all of your horrible encounters with Chef Jaehyun, this was one of the few times that you were actually on the same page as him. The only times that you felt like he was on your side was when he begged you to stay in the competition and when he was your partner for semi-finals. You were slowly starting to forget about cold-hearted Chef Jaehyun, the perfectionist that loved to nitpick every single detail of yours. This side of Chef Jaehyun… is a side that you want to see often. 

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if you fell in love with him.

“Last question before we let you finish grocery shopping,” the PR intern snaps you out of your thoughts. “What are your ideal types?”

“I like someone who is easy to talk to, someone that I can communicate with without feeling embarrassed. It’s nice to have someone who’s transparent.” Chef Jaehyun is the first to answer the question. 

“How about you, Chef Y/N?” 

You think about it for a moment. You hum to yourself before shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t think I have an ideal type.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because I think that no matter what you like in a certain person, when you actually fall in love with someone, that person could be completely different.” You explain.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Y/N.” Chef Jaehyun nudges you.

It’s an odd gesture, coming from him. You bite your lip, nudging him back. 

“If there’s a hopeless romantic out of the two of us, it would be you, Chef Jaehyun.”

The PR intern chuckles.

“It would definitely be you, Chef Jaehyun, since you were born on Valentine’s Day!”

At the end of the shoot, you and Chef Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen before leaving the set. You’re busy washing the dishes and he’s busy putting the ingredients back into the cupboards and fridge. From the corner of your eye, you can see Chef Jaehyun leaning against the countertop, watching you. You almost drop the dishes into the sink, catching yourself right in time.

“How have you been?” You hear him ask.

You bite your lip. “I’ve been well, chef. You?”

“Better now that I’ve seen you again.” 

You clear your throat, letting out a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m not sure how you want me to react to that, chef.”

“Did you… get them?” 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Get the…?”

“The flowers…?”

“Flowers…?” You place the dishes back into the hot bath before gasping. “Oh, right! The flowers! Yes, I got them. Thank you, Chef Jaehyun. You didn’t really need to.”

“I wanted to give you a gift since I heard that you’re planning on opening a diner,” he mumbles softly. Is he… blushing?

“It’s true.” You smile. “I’m going to make my mother’s dreams come true.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you.” He flashes you a smile. It’s a different smile. This time, you can feel the genuinity he’s expressing. It feels sincere. “Have you finalized a grand opening date?”

You turn off the faucet and wipe your hands with a towel. As you turn towards Chef Jaehyun, you don’t realize how close he’s been standing to you. You almost stumble back. Gulping nervously, you nod your head. “Sometime in July.”

“I’ll keep my schedules flexible in July, then. I’d love to join you for the grand opening.” 

“Oh, you don’t need to, chef. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

“If it’s for you, why not?” 

The two of you stare at each other. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips. You lick them out of instinct, frozen with your feet glued to the floor. As you fake a cough, he regains his focus and is the first to pull away from you. 

“Jaehyun? We have to get going for your next schedule.” His manager calls out to him.

The two of you glance at each other. He gives you a look you can’t seem to read. Jaehyun doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay with you. He wants to spend more time with you. He’s aching to get to know you more. There’s a sense of urgency and neediness. 

“You should get going, chef.” You mumble shyly. “Wouldn’t want to be late to your next schedule.”

What Chef Jaehyun does next completely catches you off guard. He ruffles your hair before caressing your cheek with the same hand. With widened and surprised eyes, your heartbeat picks up its pace. He smiles. It feels warm. He feels warm.

“I won’t be able to see you for a while but Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N. You don’t know how happy I am to see you again.”

When Chef Jaehyun’s figure gets smaller and smaller, your heart feels tighter and tighter. You’re not sure how Chef Jaehyun feels about you. But what you’re sure of is that you no longer despise Chef Jaehyun. 

You’re slowly falling in love with him.

[NEW] COOK UP HEARTWARMING VALENTINE’S DAY DISHES W/ CHEF JAEHYUN AND MASTERCHEF CHAMPION Y/N  1.2m views | 56k+ likes | two days ago

COMMENTS:

[pinned comment] Chef Jaehyun Official: Happy Valentine’s Day everyone~ #chefjaehyunxYN should we do another video together?

pastrychef_amy21: omg is it just me or does anyone feel like chef jaehyun has a crush on chef y/n?? doggolover312 replied: omg I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE THAT NOTICED.  luminescencexx replied: the way he looks at her >> get you a man like chef jaehyun ugh he’s handsome AND he cooks??? perfect package kjhdskjfh

galaxiesandstarsxo: they act like an old married couple sobs i always found their bickering cute since masterchef doggolover312 replied: but doesn’t chef jaehyun have a gf? i swear he did galaxiesandstarsxo replied: i think they broke up a long time ago? they were supposed to get married apparently… but something happened. they even unfollowed each other on socials doggolover312 replied: omg if that’s the case… chef y/n you still have a chance!!

It’s your last day helping out at Doie and it feels bittersweet to be leaving. Here, you close a chapter to open another one. You’ve been helping out in the kitchen at Doie for months, right after you had won MasterChef. The time you were at Doie is something you’ll cherish. But you’re moving on to make bigger moves, making you and your mother’s dreams come true as one of them. 

On your last day of work, Chef Taeyong decides to surprise you with a visit. You’re in the middle of cooking up a dish when he arrives and asks you if the two of you could have a chat. You both find yourselves sitting in the loft that’s been closed to customers for the season. 

“How have you been?” He asks. 

You smile. “I’ve been well, chef. I’ve been enjoying every single day.”

He chuckles. “I can definitely see that you’re enjoying every passing day. You’re a MasterChef, after all.”

You cut right to the chase. “Am I in trouble, chef?”

“No, not at all. Far from it, actually.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something… or should I say, about someone.”

“Who?” 

He snorts. “Jaehyun, of course. Have you seen him recently?”

“Yes, chef. We filmed a video together for Valentine’s Day with one of his sponsors—”

“Now that makes sense!” He exclaims. He sighs with relief. “He’s been acting incredibly weird lately. In fact, he’s been acting weird for the longest time, since MasterChef, and it’s been driving me nuts.”

“Chef Jaehyun? Acting weirdly?” You ask confusedly. 

“How do I put this?” He sighs. “He likes you, Y/N. You may not think he does and he may not think he does either, but I see it. It’s crystal clear. It’s as clear as day.” 

You fold over, bursting out into laughter. It’s the reaction he expected from you. He got the same exact reaction from Jaehyun. Complete disbelief. Complete obliviousness. 

“Oh no, chef. I don’t think he likes me—”

“He does, Y/N.” Chef Taeyong cuts you off. “Listen, before his flight to Florence, his ex-girlfriend dumped him because she was cheating on him. Ever since then, Jaehyun has been such a cold-hearted person and worked his ass off. But I always felt that there was something off about him.”

“He got dumped before flying out to Florence?” You purse your lips into a tight line. “Maybe that’s why he was such in a bad mood when I spilled wine all over his shirt—”

“You both met each other before MasterChef?” Chef Taeyong flips out, eyes rounding like saucers. “In Florence, too?!”

“Yes…?”

“Makes sense.” He squints his eyes. “He kept talking about this restaurant, specifically about this waitress who somehow became a culinary intern—”

“That was me—”

“—and how he kind of regretted being so cold and rude to her because he truly saw potential and thought that she needed a boost of confidence—”

“He saw potential in me even back then—”

“—wait, the girl he was talking about was you?!” His jaw drops. 

You slowly nod your head. “I was the waitress who spilled wine all over his shirt. I was the culinary intern who messed up his dish. All those horrifying encounters with Chef Jaehyun had led me to think that he absolutely hated me. He was blunt and honest, which made my unconfident self to join MasterChef to prove him wrong.”

“And you did.” Chef Taeyong smiles before it turns into a grin. “But Y/N, you got it all wrong.”

“I got it all wrong? How?”

“Jaehyun never hated you. He never disliked you.” He confesses. “In fact, it’s the complete opposite. Jaehyun’s a weird guy, I know.”

“H-How? I don’t—I don’t understand.” You scratch the back of your neck, face filled with confusion. 

“When he told me about a waitress spilling wine all over his shirt, he laughed and said it was like fate was telling him to wake up.” He chuckles. “When he told me about a culinary intern messing up his dish, he couldn’t help but regret being harsh to the intern and wanted to go back but he already had to fly back to Seoul.” 

You’ve never really thought of how your encounters with Chef Jaehyun looked through his point of view. Now that Chef Taeyong was laying it all out for you, you were slowly realizing that your low self-esteem and confidence caused you to immediately conclude that he hated you.��

“Huh—”

“When you auditioned for MasterChef, Jaehyun actually wanted to say yes. In fact, he was the first one to say yes, but the producers of the show told him to say no to add more drama for the viewers.” He continues. “For your team challenge, Jaehyun was the one who spotted Euntae sabotaging your cake.” 

“It was him?” You whisper. 

He nods his head. “When we were deciding who to eliminate after your team lost the challenge, Jaehyun was proactive in convincing us to keep you in the competition. You were close to being eliminated but Jaehyun kept telling us that you had potential.” 

He saw potential in you. He was persistent in keeping you in the competition. In the end, Chef Jaehyun really cared. 

“I—”

“The day after I found out that Jaehyun stopped you from voluntarily withdrawing from the competition, I was curious as to how he managed to make you stay.” He smiles. “But when I looked at him look at you, I had already gotten the answer.”

You fall silent. Chef Jaehyun did everything to make sure that you felt like you were fit to be a chef. But you were just closed minded and immediately shut him down. All of his actions translated into intentions out of hate. You wish you had known, perhaps you would’ve developed a great friendship with him. You’re surprised he’s still coming back into your life to try at being friends with you after being so rude to him. 

“I’ve worked with Jaehyun for many years. I know him so well. I can read him like a book. When I saw how Jaehyun looked at you that day, I felt relieved because I’ve never seen him like that for so long.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “If my best friend decides to pursue you, just know that he has good intentions and that it’s a huge step for him, especially after a heart crushing breakup.”

“That is, if he really likes me.” 

“Oh trust me, honey, he does.”

Chef Taeyong lets out a sigh. The two of you stand there, looking out at the blue skies that overlook the busy streets of Seoul. Your life may be busy, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else. You’re living out your dreams. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, chef?”

“The reason why I dropped by was because I wanted to give you this.” He pulls out an envelope from a bag filled with many other identical envelopes. 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Can I open it in front of you?”

He hums in reply. “Go ahead.”

As you open the envelope, you pull out a white card. It’s almost as if you could read his mind. As you slowly open the white card, you let out a gasp.

“You’re getting married?!”

THE GRAND OPENING.

It’s been a year since you won MasterChef. It’s also been a year since you started planning to start your own diner in memory of your mother. Mina’s Place. You decided to keep the name because it’s one of the few things that remind you of her. You even made sure the interior and exterior of the diner looked exactly how it did when the diner was still open. From the yellow seats and booths, the use of purple and lavender lighting to the gray tiled floors, you kept everything the same. The only difference is that the diner is located in a different area, right in the middle of busy Seoul. 

Today is the grand opening of the diner and you’re expected to serve a large group of customers. PR and advertisement has been your best friend, but your appearance and your win at MasterChef drove the anticipation of the diner’s grand opening even further. 

You arrive at the diner at six in the morning to prepare all of the ingredients. From the ingredients to the grapefruit and basil pie to the ingredients for your Korean brisket and kimchi burger, you had prepared them all on your own. It was only until eight that your co-chefs and waiters and waitresses had arrived to prepare for the grand opening. Around eleven-thirty, customers, Instagram influencers and foodies began to show up at the door, forming a long line around the strip.

“Chef Y/N?” One of the waitresses, Luna, pops her head through the door.

You’re crouching down, filling up the mini fridge with cartons of milk. You dust your hands off your apron and you slowly get up. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Someone’s here to see you,” she flashes you a warm smile.

You look at her confusedly. “Are we missing someone on the team? I don’t remember anyone telling me that they were going to drop by—”

“It’s Chef Jaehyun,” Luna bites her lip. She’s biting back a huge smile.

Your eyebrows raise. Confused, you continue to gather yourself. Chef Jaehyun? “S-Sure, you can let him in.”

Luna leaves the kitchen to go fetch Jaehyun and you finish placing all the cartons of milk into the mini fridge. Moments later, you hear footsteps entering the kitchen. You stand back up, bumping your head against the table and groaning in pain. Crouching back down over the floor, you hear footsteps begin to scurry closer to you. 

“Oh! Are you okay, Y/N?” 

Before your hand touches the sensitive area, you already feel a familiar hand gently rubbing it to soothe the pain. You freeze up in your position, gulping nervously. Suddenly, Chef Jaehyun’s face is right in front of yours. He has a look of concern. Looking back at him with slightly widened eyes, your mind is completely wiped out of thoughts. What is this feeling? You’ve never felt this way before. You’ve never felt your heart beat so fast. You’ve never frozen up in front of someone. You’ve never lost your train of thought because of someone. 

Seconds later, you clear your throat, pulling yourself away. You’ve finally come back to your senses. “Chef Jaehyun… I had no idea you were planning on dropping by—”

“I wanted to join you in the ribbon ceremony for the grand opening!” He exclaims.

He remembered? He knew it was today? You and Chef Jaehyun have never established some sort of friendship after the competition. You like to think that the both of you have achieved the status of being acquaintances, but definitely not the status of being friends. 

“A-Ah,” you mumble softly. “Thanks, chef. You didn’t need to, I feel like it would be a bother and I’m sure you have other plans too—” 

You’re not sure when things began to change. You’re not sure when the atmosphere began to shift between you and Chef Jaehyun. It’s almost as if you’re seeing a different person. He’s much brighter, nicer, happier. Why is it making your heart swell? What are his intentions?

“I wouldn’t miss the grand opening to Mina’s Place for anything else,” he says softly. “Hey, Y/N?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“I got you a present to congratulate you on the grand opening of Mina’s Place.” 

“A present?” You blurt out. “Oh, no, Chef Jaehyun, you didn’t need to—”

“I wanted to.” He cuts you off. “Let’s go?” 

For a brief moment, you see his hand reach out to grab yours but he quickly pulls away upon realization. The two of you are not that close for such skinship. When he realizes it, he looks back up at you with panicked eyes. Was he really going to hold your hand? You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from his. Instead, you both walk out of the kitchen side by side.

Sitting on one of the light brown hardwood tables is a lavender box wrapped with a thin white ribbon. You glance at Jaehyun as if asking for permission, he gestures to you to go right ahead. Gently untying the ribbon, you take the lid off the box. A small gasp escapes your lips.

Sitting inside the box is an apron, but it’s not your regular apron. The apron looks just like the one in your old family pictures. Yellow with white straps. It’s simple and clean. It’ll show the stains of your hard work. It’ll feel like home. 

But when you pull it out, there’s one little difference to the design. There, embroidered in white on the top left corner, reads the words “Mina’s Place.” It looks just like your mother’s handwriting, the original font of the brand, and it makes your eyes well up with tears. For a brief moment, when you hold up the apron, you could imagine your mother standing right before you with it on. 

“Chef, I—” You’re having trouble forming the right words to say. 

“So she’ll be with you, right above your heart, every step of the way,” Jaehyun pauses for a moment, “Chef.” He gives you a smile so fond, you are again struck with disbelief. 

Hearing the word ‘chef’ come from Chef Jaehyun is something you want to hear over and over again. You want it to play through your head like a broken record. Chef Jaehyun has always been hard on you, but you knew that he was only hard on you because he only wanted the best. Chef Jaehyun is always hard on everyone and you failed to notice that. He truly wants the best for the people he works with and most importantly, the people he teaches. Maturing is realizing that you were ignorant of Chef Jaehyun’s true intentions and immediately thought negatively of him because of your past encounters with him. 

“D-Do you mind saying that again?”

“I’m proud of how far you’ve come, Chef Y/N. This is only the beginning.”

After a long first day of opening, you and your team of chefs and waiters and waitresses see the last customer out. The grand opening has been such a dream to you. There was a long line that wrapped around the block. The diner was packed with many people. The line never truly saw its end until an hour before closing. When the last customer walks out of the diner after complimenting how delicious their food was, you feel your legs give out and you sigh with relief. Slowly getting back up onto your feet, you head to the back kitchen to congratulate your team.

“And we are officially closed until tomorrow morning!” You exclaim. That is, until you spot a celebratory cake sitting right in front of you on the countertop. Your team of chefs and waiters and waitresses have their phones on and recording your surprised face. “Oh you guys, you shouldn’t have!”

“Congratulations on your grand opening, chef!”

Your eyes scan the kitchen. There’s Luna, a good friend of yours from university who worked as a waitress at a hotel restaurant. She quit her job in a heartbeat after you had offered her to work front of house with a better pay. Standing right next to Luna is Minhyuck, who just graduated from culinary arts college and has been wanting to get into the kitchen as soon as possible. You saw your younger self in him, which is why you hired him on your team. Right next to Minhyuck is Yena, a rookie pastry chef that’s planning on entering MasterChef and figured working with a MasterChef champion would help her. Next to Yena are Wheein and Dohyun, who are line chefs and also your co-culinary interns in Florence. Lastly, there’s Mark and Donghyuck, two best friends and college students who were looking to get jobs as waiters.

“You guys are going to make me cry.” You pout your lips.

“To Mina’s Place!” Mark exclaims.

“To Mina’s Place!” Everyone else exclaims.

You smile, leaning in to blow out the candles. Everyone cheers. But slowly, everyone puts down their phones and stops recording video. You look at them confusedly as they begin to flash you encouraging and cheeky smiles and grins. 

“Why are you guys looking at me like that?” You ask.

“Well, would you look at the time, we should get going!” Dohyun looks down at his wristwatch, avoiding your question.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. My mom’s going to kill me!” Wheein is rushing to gather her things.

“Wheein is my carpool driver, so I should get going too.” Yena bites her lip.

One by one, everyone starts to leave the kitchen and the diner. When it’s just you, you slowly turn around to see Chef Jaehyun entering the kitchen. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck nervously. You tilt your head in confusion.

“Y-You’re still here, chef?” You question.

He nods his head. “I wanted to drop by and see your last customer out.”

“O-Oh, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He smiles. “I was wondering if you could…”

He falls silent, having trouble finding the right words to come out. You stand there, expectantly, waiting for him to finish. The first thing you notice is how red Chef Jaehyun’s ears are becoming. The second thing you notice is how he can’t seem to look directly into your eyes. The third thing you notice is that… Chef Jaehyun has become shy and nervous around you. Have the tables turned?

“If I could…?”

“If you could teach me how to make the grapefruit and basil pie.” He blurts out and it comes out as a jumble of words. 

You bite back a smile. “Are you going to steal my recipe and start selling grapefruit and basil pie at your restaurant?”

“Of course not,” he panics. “I would never do that.”

“I’m not sure if I could trust you,” you fold your arms, continuing to tease him. “Jaehyun.”

“I won’t,” he says softly, finally finding the courage to look into your eyes. When it sinks in that you called him by his name, his gaze softens. You feel your heart swell. “I promise. That is, if you promise me one thing too.”

“Of course,” you smile. “What is it?”

“You’ll accompany me to Taeyong’s wedding.” 

“I’d love to, in fact, I was invited as well—”

“As my date.” He finishes. You almost choke on your spit. 

Is this really happening? Jaehyun looks incredibly nervous. You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling so wide. You slowly nod your head in response.

“I’d love to, Jaehyun.”

THE ‘REAL’ FIRST TIME.

When Jaehyun’s parents pick him up from elementary school, it’s pouring showers outside. But the only thing that lit up the gloomy streets of Seoul was Mina’s Place, a diner that he and his parents would frequent every Friday to reward their efforts for the past week. Both of Jaehyun’s parents are well-known professors at Yonsei University, specifically in the culinary arts program. Jaehyun’s father was a chef alongside famous chefs like Baek Jongwon and Lee Yeonbok. Jaehyun’s mother was a pastry chef who was known for her win at a famous pastry competition back in her days. 

And Jaehyun… was a mini chef in the making. 

On a gloomy Friday afternoon, Jaehyun and his parents sit in their usual corner of Mina’s Place. A woman seeming to be in her late thirties heads over to their table with a menu. She’s wearing an apron and a chef’s hat. 

“Welcome to Mina’s Place, what can I get you started for today?” The woman asks, pulling out her notepad after gently placing the menus down onto the red table. 

“Hi Mina, we’d love to have the usual!” Jaehyun’s father exclaims. “That grapefruit and basil pie has never left my mind since the last time we were here.” 

“That’s such a relief to hear…” The woman, whom Jaehyun now knows is Mina herself, sighs with relief. She writes it down in the notepad along with his mother’s order. She clicks her pen before stuffing it into the pocket of her yellow apron. “I’ll have your orders ready in a bit. In the meantime, make yourselves at home!”

Jaehyun’s eyes wander around the diner. Although this diner was the place he and his parents would frequent, this diner was extra special for a reason. That reason being that his parents got engaged right in front of the diner while it was owned by different owners. During that time, the diner wasn’t Mina’s Place yet, it was a fast-food restaurant. 

Jaehyun’s attention is disrupted when Mina comes back to their table with their orders. His eyes land on the little girl standing right beside her. She has such large innocent eyes. She looks curiously at him. She seems to be somewhere around his age. She’s sporting a mini apron that looks exactly like Mina’s. 

“And who is this cute little girl?” He hears his mother ask Mina.

Mina places her hand on the little girl’s shoulder, bringing the little girl closer to her. She cuddles against Mina. “This is my daughter. Her name is Y/N.”

“How old is she?” His mother continues to ask questions out of curiosity. 

“She’s ten.” Mina pinches her daughter’s cheek. 

“Oh, she’s two years younger than Jaehyun!” His father joins in the conversation. “They could be friends!”

Jaehyun makes eye contact with the little girl. She looks up at her mother before looking at both of his parents. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she looks back at him and sticks out her tongue. He feels taken aback, eyes slightly widening. 

“I think they would get along quite well!” Mina smiles. “Doesn’t little Jaehyun want to be a chef when he grows up?”

“He does,” his mother nods her head. “Does Y/N want to be a chef as well? Take after you?”

“She sure does! They could even go to culinary school together! Maybe go to a cooking competition or something!”

Friends? Jaehyun scoffs, sending a glare at the little girl. They have an intense staredown. To the adults, it looks like they’re staring at each other because they have crushes on each other. But in reality, Jaehyun’s having a staredown with the little girl because she provoked him. He pokes his tongue at her in return. Her eyes widen as if she did not expect him to put up a mini fight. They could even go to culinary school together? There’s no way that that’ll happen. Cooking competition? Absolutely no way. 

“I think my little daughter here has a crush…”

“Jaehyun, sweetie, isn’t Y/N so pretty? You can’t seem to stop staring at her.”

THE REALIZATION OF (MANY) THINGS.

“That was you?!”

“I can’t believe that was you!”

Sitting by the water fountain, you and Jaehyun talk about your real first encounter with each other when you were kids. From the outside of the reception venue, you can hear the DJ playing a remix of cha cha slide and the guests chanting along. Taeyong’s wedding has been memorable. It was nice to see one of your mentors getting married to the love of his life. Not only that, but you’ve been having a great time with Jaehyun. Since it was getting quite stuffy inside the venue, you and Jaehyun decided to stroll around the garden outside to get some fresh air. 

“You know, sometimes I think that we’ve always had fateful encounters.” Jaehyun begins. He’s aching to hold your hand. But he knows that he wants to take things slow and carefully. He’s so in love with you that he doesn’t want to mess this up. 

“Fateful encounters? What makes you say that?” You ask.

“I came out of a horrible breakup before flying to Florence to run a restaurant with Taeyong. It was such a huge coincidence to have a beautiful woman spill expensive wine all over my shirt.” He chuckles.

You jokingly glare at him. “It was an accident.”

“I know, I know.” He waves it off. “It was an even more big of a coincidence to have the same beautiful woman serve me a dish at the same restaurant.”

“Makes sense.” You nod your head in agreement. “And then we met again at MasterChef but I was a contestant and you were the judge.”

“You know, when I heard that you were withdrawing from the competition, it was like my entire world was crashing down.” He says softly. “It was like I was reminded of all the times I’ve met you and how I couldn’t let you go. I had a feeling that there must’ve been a reason why I met you after getting dumped by my ex-girlfriend.”

“But you showed me that it’s worth working hard and that it’s worth chasing your dreams.” You smile. “I haven’t thank you yet for that but... thank you, Jaehyun. If it weren’t for you, I would probably fly back out to Florence and pick up another job as a waitress.”

“And yet, I would still look for you.” He confesses. “If somehow you stuck with your decision of withdrawing, I would’ve still looked for you, no matter how far the distance.”

“Really?” You whisper.

He smiles. “Yes. I mean, how could I forget the beautiful woman that spilled expensive wine all over my shirt?”

You playfully slap his arm. “You’re really going to tease me for that for the rest of my life, huh?”

“Of course, if only you allow me to be with you for a long time.” He says and it slowly turns into a soft, shy mumble. “Agh, this is so hard!”

You quirk an eyebrow. He’s turning away from you, throwing a cute little fit. “What’s so hard?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something but I keep getting nervous because you look—” He stops himself. “You look so pretty and whenever I look at you, I lose my train of thought and all of the things I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“What is it that you need to tell me?”

“Our fateful encounters.” He begins to tell you, with his back facing you because he’s too nervous to look at you. “After MasterChef, I did everything I could to find you, to see you, to get to know you more. When Doyoung told me that you were going to be working at his restaurant for a while, I kept visiting in hopes to see you but you weren’t there.”

“You did?”

“Yes, which is why I gave you those flowers!” He exclaims. “And then when we were asked to shoot that Valentine’s Day video, I agreed to do it in a heartbeat when I found out that you were going to be joining the project.” 

“Oh...” 

“It used to be so easy to look for you because of all of our fateful encounters. But after MasterChef, it’s become a mission to find you. But now that I’ve finally found you again, I knew that I couldn’t let you go no matter what.” 

“Jaehyun...” You trail off. 

He sucks in a deep breath before slowly turning back around to face you. “Y/N, I hope you know what I’m trying to say, where I’m trying to get at with this... but...”

“But?” You have a feeling you know what he’s going to tell you, but you would rather wait for it to spill past his lips. 

“I’m—” He begins before looking down at your feet. His eyebrows raise in shock and he lets out a small gasp. “Oh, you’re wearing them.”

You almost want to curse at your two feet for ruining the moment. You look down at your heels that you’ve chosen to wear to the wedding. It’s the pair of heels that Alessandro had given to you when you broke your heels after tripping over yourself and spilling wine all over Jaehyun. 

“These heels? Yeah, I was given—”

“You’re wearing the heels that I gave you.” He cuts you off.

“You were the one who gave these?” You whisper.

His eyes meet yours and he chuckles, nodding his head. “Of course. When you got back up after tripping over, I noticed that your heels broke and so I stopped by one of the shops along the strip to get you a new pair. I think I dropped it off with Alessandro because I was running a bit late to—oof!”

“It was you. It’s always been you. This entire time.” You crush him with a hug. He’s caught off guard and sits there in shock for a brief moment before melting into your embrace. 

He slowly pulls away and grabs your hands. “As I was saying...”

“As you were saying...” You continue.

“With all our fateful encounters... with those pair of heels... with all of the times I’ve crossed paths with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way in so long.” He continues. “Y/N, I’m so in love with you. I’m already so nervous telling you this right now, especially while holding your hands. I just wanted you to know that I have feelings for you and you could completely reject me, I understand—”

“I’m in love with you too, Jaehyun.”

“Really?” He whispers, still in shock. “You’re giving me a chance?”

“Only if you give me a chance.” You chuckle.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me, Y/N.”

“You don’t know how much I want to make you happy, Jaehyun.”

WELCOME TO THE NEW SEASON OF MASTERCHEF.

“For today’s challenge, we will be recreating Y/N’s most famous dish!”

All of the contestants let out gasps when you step onto the stage to join the three chef judges. The judges for the new season of MasterChef remain the same; Chef Taeyong, Chef Jaehyun, and Chef Doyoung. After having them beg you to guest on the show, you decided to give it a shot.

“For today’s challenge, you will be recreating my famous dish of a deconstructed basil and grapefruit pie.” You smile. “To start this challenge, let us all gather around the front so that you could learn how to master your own deconstructed pie!”

You begin by making your way towards the demo station where you will be showing the contestants how to make your famous pie. Everyone joins in and gathers around you to get a glimpse of how to make your famous pie themselves. Standing on the stage a couple of metres behind you are the three judges, you watch you begin your demo.

Jaehyun folds his arms and lets out a happy sigh. Taeyong glances at him and quirks an eyebrow. “I wonder who that beautiful woman is cooking at the demo table over there.”

Taeyong snorts and rolls his eyes. “Jaehyun, that’s your girlfriend.”

Jaehyun chuckles, nodding his head. “Oh right... she is. That’s my girlfriend—actually, my fiance.”

“Your what? Since when? H-How—” Doyoung and Taeyong share shocked looks while Jaehyun digs into the pockets of his jeans to pull out an engagement ring. Your engagement ring, to be exact.

“Since last night.” He holds up your engagement ring in one hand and shows his engagement ring that he’s wearing on his other. “She doesn’t like cooking with her engagement ring so I’m just holding it for her.”

“Dude...” Taeyong clenches his chest.

Jaehyun snorts. “Dude...”

“Wow, I’m really the only one left that’s single, huh?” Doyoung sighs.

The two chefs comfort him by patting his back.

“She’ll come around soon, Doyoung. You just gotta be patient.”

“You never know, she’ll be a chef too!”

“Chef Jaehyun?” 

The three of them shift their attention back to the contestants. You’re the one calling out to Jaehyun. He quirks an eyebrow. “Yes, Chef Y/N?”

“A couple of the ladies here are wondering if you’re single,” you chuckle. 

Jaehyun shares a knowing look with you. “Well, I hate to disappoint but I just got engaged to the love of my life.”

They let out sad sighs and groans before everyone gets back to learning how to make your famous pie. Taeyong smirks. 

“You’re breaking so many hearts right now, Jaehyun.”

💌 author’s note. she’s FINALLY here 😩 again, i apologize for keeping this off for such a long time. i’ve been super busy with school and just life in general. to everyone who’s been super understanding and patient, thank you so much. from the bottom of my heart, i sincerely thank you for waiting for such a long time. i also wanted to thank @sehunniepotwrites for hearing me voice out my frustrations and all of my excitement throughout writing this fic. nikki truly saw all of the emotions that i’ve experienced and gone through while writing chef!jae. i remember always wanting to write a chef!jae fic and bring chef!jae to life, but there was a lot of pressure and the feeling of doubt.. i felt like i had to do it justice and the fear of not writing it to the best of my ability (esp with me being a perfectionist), it was something that held me back from finishing this fic. but i managed to pull through and i realized that it doesn’t matter, what matters is that i enjoyed writing this fic and if that feeling of enjoyment can be felt through those who read it, that’s more than enough for me. but anyways before this gets longer, thank you so much for reading!

and as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!

taglist (some of the tags didn’t work so if u didn’t get the notif, i’m sorry!): @anya-writes-stuff​ @swifterauhl​ @tyongblr @alwaysthefirstsight @doyoungsmovingcastle​ @pinkyzae​ @sunshinein17​ @jaehyunnie77​ @dreamycomets​ @seventeeneration​ @srutz​ @coupsiesluv​ @nctdom​ @moonchele​ @freshprunecowboyapricot​ @chimmybaek7​ @forhaever​ @ten10vly​ @fluffyjaes​ @gyujaehyun​ @so-showme-ill-shownu​ @winniet​ @yipyipmorals​ 

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #ankathia #nct-writers #jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x oc #jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun scenarios #jeong jaehyun imagines #jeong jaehyun x oc #jeong jaehyun x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct x oc #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x oc #fluff #angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #IT'S DONE #AHHHHHH

[luulapants]

Goncharov (1973) is a perfect example of how fandom creates a shell around a piece of media and then slowly erodes the core it was originally built upon.

I have been in two fandoms that echo chambered their way to a theory invalidating all of canon, thereby making the source material itself irrelevant. One is the “Scott is an unreliable narrator” theory from the Teen Wolf fandom, which uses an odd POV choice from the series finale (the protagonist telling the story of their final battle to a character in a flash-forward) as evidence that the entire SHOW is actually him telling a heavily edited version of the story to make himself look like the hero. The other is the “Ghostfacers Effect” from the Supernatural fandom which also uses a weird POV episode (told through camera footage from a ghost hunting crew) to argue that, because the characters swear (bleeped out) in that episode but nowhere else in the series, this is evidence that the whole series is censored and edited by the author/God Chuck.

Both fandoms had animosity between fans and show creators, especially from queer shipping bases. Both have a huge amount of fanworks for those ships, and both experienced the “fandom echochamber” effect. Reinforced by positive responses from those seeking fluffy, kinky, self-insert, or otherwise wish-fulfilling stories, popular fanon characterizations slowly drifted until many fanworks featured characters virtually unrecognizable as their canon counterpart.

These drifts are addressed differently throughout fandom: Most people look at it and say, “No, that’s not canon, but it’s fun to read sometimes anyway,” or “This is just my headcanon.” Fanfic readers who never watched the source material are oblivious and perpetuate fanon characterizations as canon. Canon lovers decry the OOC-ness and complain that they can’t find fics about the actual characters they want to read about.

And some start arguing that fanon is actually more correct than canon.

Thus, the erosion of canon begins. “These episodes don’t count because the head writer was garbage.” “They made the character act like that to advance the plot - they wouldn’t have actually done that.” “Everything after this season is basically a different show.” “This happened off-screen but the network was too cowardly to show us.” And, finally, “Canon isn’t real.”

There is no canon. It’s a fanon shell wrapped around a desiccated center.

It’s Goncharov (1973).

Why do we need a source material? Canon isn’t real!

No shit canon isn’t real. It’s a fictional show.

You can’t argue the objective reality of a fictional story.

“But what’s the truth?”

None of it. None of it is the truth. It’s about werewolves. It’s about a gay angel. It’s not real.

You can argue objective reality in real-life historical accounts, analyzing sources and biases and excluded viewpoints. In a fictional story with an unreliable narrator, you can argue about what the text of the narration reveals about them. But there is no argument to be had about the objective reality of a fictional character. They are the text. Everything else is interpretation.

Why can’t your interpretation be what it is: an interpretation? Why can’t your headcanon be a headcanon? Why do you feel the need to saw the ladder off from underneath you? Why does fanon need to be more “true” than canon? Why would you rather have a fandom built on nothing than a fandom built on a text that disagrees with it?

Goncharov (1973) is the perfect canon because it will never disagree with fanon. It has no voice to do so. It is the perfect void that people have been trying to carve into their respective canons for years.

As Andrey said before his final betrayal, “You once told me you built your empire from nothing. You can’t get something from nothing, Goncharov. And so I fear we are nothing.”

#goncharov #fandom meta #fandom #supernatural #teen wolf #teen wolf meta #supernatural meta #if you are from a fandom that has created a similar theory PLEASE add a comment!!

[maidenson88]

AMAZON WOMEN'S PROTOCOLS — A STORY FROM THE GYNARCHIC WORLD BEFORE THE CATASTROPHE — 1ST PART

"His job was to ensure the toilets and that the floors of the bathroom remained spotlessly clean. For a seemingly simple job, it was surprisingly demanding. The club was usually opened from 5 PM to 10 AM and during this time it was visited by hundreds of empowered Women. During the weekends when Women went out partying and the club was full, he could barely keep up the peace. Every time a Lady used a toilet, he was supposed to crawl into her cubicle and clean it. In between cleaning the cubicles he was supposed to scrub the floors, pick up the trash and even clean the Ladies footwear if She wished/wanted for. What made his job even more difficult was the strict male domestic protocol that required him to always display an utmost servility and abasement. A crawler wasn’t supposed to live for a minute without constantly reminding him and his surrounding of what he was... A lower form of life. When in the presence of a Woman he was supposed to drop everything and kowtow before Her with his forehead touching the ground."

PART I

In a Female Dominated Society male creatures are governed by the rule of Female Law. Even a uniquely Utopian Society such as the New Amazonia State required a complex set of Gynarchy & Matriarchal laws to ensure a peaceful and productive coexistence for its Lady Citizens and their unquestionable rule over their male domestic slaves. Indeed the Amazon Law regulated many aspects of the New Amazonian Society. It protected Women’s rights and freedoms, regulated the personal relationships between Women and their relations to their property, including their male domestic slaves.

The most striking feature of the Amazon Law was its benevolent nature in addressing its Female subjects. In an advanced form of society, built on mutual respect and cooperation between Women, there was little need for coercion. For the most part the Amazon Law provides a guidance for Women on how to lead a meaningful and productive life in the Female Amazonian State.

This apparently humane and benevolent nature of the Amazon Law took a sharp turn when it came to dealing with males, on whom it often exerted the utmost cruelty. Lady-Amazons saw males as irrational, dangerous and atavistic creatures that were best kept under firm control of the Female. Thus the Female Authorities of New Amazonian State kept a close watch on a handful of free males that were allowed to live on the territory of the Amazonian State.

The Amazon Law had very little patience with those who breached the rules of Gynarchy & Matriarchy World Order. Many a male domestic slaves who toiled under the yoke of his Female Owners would gave anything to return to that day when he stole a Woman’s purse or broke into a store. But his choice was now long forgone since the establishment of the new Female rule in the world.

Once a man was condemned to live the rest of his days in forced labor as a slave, he literally ceased to exist and a new being was brought into life in his place. A wretched being whose sole reason of existence was to serve the Superior Gender the Lady-Citizens of New Amazonian State. A being resembling a human being, yet a being that was infinitely inferior to human before Woman.

A male slave.

PART II

The Amazon Law regulated the lives, or more precisely, the existence of male domestic slaves down to the last detail. Even so, it would be superficial to assume that it somehow addressed them. Male domestic slaves were not considered human beings in New Amazonia State, so they were not really subject to the law in the strict sense of the term. A male domestic slave was always ruled by the Female mind. He was either subject to the whim of an individual Lady or to the collective mind of the Female community. The detailed rules the male domestic slaves had to follow were best thought of as a convenient tool to assist a Lady-Citizen in Her everyday interactions with the male domestic slaves.

Once you think about it, it all makes perfect sense. Amazon males were as slavish as a slave can be. They had no rights and no free will of their own. Amazon Women took great effort in thoroughly reducing their male domestic slaves to the condition of abject servility. During their training they were tormented, crushed, dehumanized and ultimately molded into spineless, blindly obedient automaton male drones.

An Amazon Lady would found it disgusting to imagine that Her male domestic slave possessed even a shred of a free will. For them a male domestic slave was a hollow creature, devoid of any other thought or feeling other than fear the Female and the need to obey Her. As such he was an intrinsically passive male creature. He stayed put up on his abasement until given an order by a Woman.

The lack of personality and ability to think independently of his Mistress made an Amazon slave an ideal multipurpose tool. An Amazon slave combines the resilience and efficacy of the machine with the unique slavishness that can only be found in sentient beings. As most Amazon Women would put it: "Using a robot is not anywhere near than using an actual male domestic slave."

But as it happened, reducing a male to this wretched state came with a price in the New Amazon State. Amazon slaves lacked initiative and required orders to everything and to function properly. It would be terribly inconvenient for Women if they would have to order male domestic slaves around all the time. Wash the dishes! Clean the toilet! Vacuum my room! Polish my boots! Kowtow in my presence! These were all repetitive tasks that male domestic slaves should generally perform without being told so directly in another Gynarchy Sector. Indeed, there were many situations when the presence of a Woman was simply untenable. Male domestic slaves working in unpleasant environments definitely required a whip every now and then for this purpose, but one Female Authority could hardly ask a taskMistress to descend into the sewers just to inspect the sewage of these male domestic slaves for doing their job and what it was required from them to do.

To overcome these drawbacks, complex sets of rules, known as "Amazon Protocols," were enacted in the New Amazonia State. Male domestic's Amazon Protocols regulated the male slave’s behavior down to the last detail. They dictated him when to eat, when to sleep, when and where to work, etc. Amazon Protocol was essentially a male domestic slave’s autopilot. In the absence of a direct order from an Amazon Woman, Amazon Protocol kept the male domestic slaves busy, usually close to their limits.

Amazon slaves did not really learn their protocols. Their protocols were rather implemented in their minds with the help of classical conditioning by Female Trainers of the New Amazonian State. The process was rather simple. Failure to meet the requirements of Amazon Protocols resulted in pain for the male creatures. Only after the male domestic slave had been thoroughly conditioned, only after he had been broken and dehumanized, only after the last remnants of his personality had been squeezed out and replaced by the Amazon Protocols and the slavish instinct, only then could a male slave truly became a generic being just like a male drone. Only then could he be released into the Female Society of the New Amazonia State to meet his ultimate purpose... "To serve the Superior Gender of Women in the Amazon Society."

PART III

Slave Grub was currently busy following his Amazon Protocol in a rather lavishly decorated Ladies room in the capital of New Amazonia State. Grub wasn’t his real name. Male slaves had no names here. They had a number and a barcode tattooed on the back of their heads, which was more than sufficient to keep them apart. Still, Ladies sometimes found it convenient to name a slave, especially if he served indoors. So without giving it much thought his Female owners named him Grub. A fairly common name for a male slave of his category. Quite appropriate too, as he was spending his days crawling on hands and knees.

For a male slave of his category, being close to the ground came natural in the New Amazonia State. The lower the male slave was in terms of male slaves categories, the more oppression and dehumanization he had to endure around the Amazon Women. And slave Grub was certainly near the bottom of the slave ladder. Male slaves in his category were colloquially known as "crawlers" as they literally spent their entire lives crawling on hands and knees in the floor. Indeed, it wasn’t physically possible for them to move around any other way. Their ability to walk upright was medically disabled during the process of their blessed transformation by the Amazon Women Specialists for this purpose.

As pathetic as these male slaves might be, the process of transforming men into slave crawlers was nevertheless a remarkable achievement of the New Amazonia State. It was a scientific accomplishment as much as it was a demonstration of Female cruelty and determination in suppressing the criminal and antisocial elements among these male creatures. Amazon Women see little good in locking male criminals away in prisons where they would live on their expense with everything paid off by the Amazon State. Criminals shouldn’t simply been hidden away as in some Utopian fantasy worlds where nothing bad ever happens to them. On the contrary, male criminals should been rendered harmless, enslaved and finally exposed to the public so everyone can saw what happened when an inferior male rised against the Natural Order of Women's Control & Rule.

PART IV

Slave Grub payed for his offense dearly and had been continued to pay for it for as long as he lived there in the New Amazonian State. Not long ago he was convicted of armed robbery. As a violent offender he received a swift and merciless punishment. After being convicted by a Female Court of Amazon Law, he was taken away to the slave reformation center, where he underwent a number of medical procedures, followed by excruciating slave training. What resulted was a peaceful docile male creature that crawled around on all fours and threw himself on the ground pressing his face into the dirt every time he heard an Amazon Woman walking towards him, blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

The male slave training was a never ending ordeal of pain and humiliation for the slave. Prison taskMistresses had only one job: "To break his spirit and reduce him into a subhuman." They were mostly young Women in their twenties who were drunk with power they held over the male slaves. They took turns torturing and humiliating him in every way they could think off. They placed a saddle on his back and took turns riding him around the prison reformation center until his hands and knees were bleeding. They stretched him on a rack. They trampled him, jumped on him. The regularly whipped him and kicked him. Spit on him. They even make him eat the mud of their boot soles. And they laughed and joked while they were doing it. Just as how it was supposed to be in any Amazonian Gynarchy Sector.

After that came the boredom... "He was taken to the slave market and locked up in a tiny cell underground with nothing to do all day but wait for his prospective buyer." He could see other male slaves lingering in their cages. No one uttered a word. There was nothing to talk about. They were crawlers and crawlers don’t talk. The days were passing by in silence in the Wonderful New Amazonian State.

Crawlers weren’t in high demand and visitors to this place were rare in the New Amazonian State. "Usually the slave market was full of Amazon Women checking on new male slaves to buy, but they rarely descended into the crawlers' department underground. They were more interested in personal male domestic slaves, thralls, beasts of burden, pony-boy slaves to pull carriages and of course young & handsome pleasure male domestic slave-boys in their teenage years something between their 12 and 20 years of age." Slave crawlers simply weren’t as useful as other slaves, so they were mostly bought by rich Women who wished to add designated footslave or floorscrubber to their collection of male slaves in the Utopian Female World.

PART V

Slave Grub was eventually acquired by one of the popular downtown clubs to serve them as a cleaning male slave. "As a crawler he was assigned a particularly tedious and demeaning job. Since the day he was brought there, his world was reduced to the interior of a Female restroom." The opaque automatic doors that lead in and out of the restrooms were the beginning and the end of his world. He barely dared to look at them to the Young & Empowered Amazon Women. He was strictly prohibited from leaving the restroom. And violation of this rule would naturally result in a harsh punishment for him.

After a month or so he knew the geography of the restrooms to the last detail. "The Female restroom contained twenty toilet cubicles, each containing a toilet that he was supposed to clean. It also contained twenty bathroom sinks that were off limits for him." A creature that crawls on all fours cleaning the toilets and scrubbing the floor has no place cleaning the place where Ladies wash their hands. "Bathroom sinks were cleaned by another male slave who wandered into the Ladies room every couple of hours at the Amazon Club."

"He worked 18 hours a day. All the time he was not working he was locked in a tiny cell that was hidden behind the wall. His day began a few minutes before 10 AM, when a Waitress let him out of his cell and fed him a tasteless slave slop gruel that She placed on a bowl on the floors next to his cell. He ate it in a hurry, watching Her heels clicking on the floor tiles a few centimeters from his face. She was always so impatient. He barely managed to eat his meal when She kicked his bowl away and showed him to work." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

PART VI

"His job was to ensure the toilets and the floors of the bathroom remained spotlessly clean." For a seemingly simple job, it was surprisingly demanding. "The Amazon Club was usually open from 5 PM to 10 AM and during this time it was visited by hundreds of Women. During the weekends, when Women went out partying and the club was full, he could barely keep up the peace. Every time a Lady-Citizen used a toilet, he was supposed to crawl into Her cubicle and clean it. In between cleaning the cubicles he was supposed to scrub the floors, pick up the trash and even clean the Ladies footwear if She wished & demanded for it."

"What made his job even more difficult was the strict Amazon Protocol that required him to always display an utmost servility and abasement." A crawler wasn’t supposed to live for a minute without constantly reminding him and his surrounding of what he was. A lower form of life in the presence of Amazon Women. "When in the presence of a Woman he was supposed to drop everything and kowtow before Her with his forehead touching the ground." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

"It wasn’t like Women actually appreciated his displays of devotion for the Female Gender. Most of the time they simply ignored him, walking past his kowtowing body as if he was some sort of an object. The only exception was when they required his shoeshine services." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women! "The bathroom contained a shoeshine chair close to the exit. If a Lady-Citizen wished or demanded to have Her shoes cleaned, She would simply sit in the designated chair and yell at him. She didn’t need to say anything else. The male slave’s instinct was responsible to bring him up underneath Her. And if he didn’t notice Her sitting or yelling at him there because he was so busy wet-sponging the toilet seats, well, then too bad for him! The punishment for negligence was certainly a harsh one." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

END OF 1ST PART — TO BE CONTINUED.

SUMMARY

Today we were able to immerse ourselves in the New Amazonian State one of the most beautiful Gynarchic Sectors of the Gynarchic World and we were able to read what the Golden Times of the Gynarchic World were like. Certainly, we are a privileged generation, as other generations did not have this privilege. The New Amazonian State was truly a wonderful state where the Female rule was truly established in their society and where Women were the Superior Gender.

In this Amazonian Society we were able to learn how there were different categories of "slavery" for the male creatures. Being Grub in one of the lowest of this hierarchies. Certainly Grub was the star of the night at the Amazon Club because without his service to this Club of Powerful Amazon Women the toilets would have remained dirty, as well as the floor of the Female restrooms.

One of the important aspects to highlight for this wonderful lecture is the training received by these "rebellious males" at the correction center of the New Amazonian city. This harsh training for these male creatures was a highlight point for the Amazon Women, because this corrective training helped these lost males to get back on track under the Rule of Women and this help to the fullest development of the Amazonian Gynarchic State.

One of the most beautiful things about this story was the description of the slave market of the Amazon Women, in very few sites you can learn of "how it was" in the Gynarchic World, and here this is described in detail which I thought is something phenomenal. And it says I quote: "Usually the slave market was full of Amazon Women checking on new male slaves to buy, but they rarely descended into the crawlers' department underground. They were more interested in personal male domestic slaves, thralls, beasts of burden, pony-boy slaves to pull carriages and of course young & handsome pleasure male domestic slave-boys in their teenage years something between their 12 and 20 years of age." This is one of the most beautiful parragraphs that I've ever read about the Utopian Female World.

I must say that the description of Grub's work schedule at the Amazon Club also stands out because the detailed description of his schedule is so well described that it truly takes us back to the Golden Times of the Gynarchic World Where Women Ruled With Iron Hand. And it says I quote: "He worked 18 hours a day. All the time he was not working he was locked in a tiny cell that was hidden behind the wall. His day began a few minutes before 10 AM, when a Waitress let him out of his cell and fed him a tasteless slave slop gruel that She placed on a bowl on the floors next to his cell. He ate it in a hurry, watching Her heels clicking on the floor tiles a few centimeters from his face. She was always so impatient. He barely managed to eat his meal when She kicked his bowl away and showed him to work." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women Everywhere because this is so beautiful without anything that could match it.

Finally, I want to highlight the attitude that the Gynarchic Women had towards Grub because that is certainly the right attitude that any Gynarchic Woman must have around the lowest of the male domestic slaves which is "to ignore" the crawlers and this is correct because they certainly were Gynarchic Women they were not any other type of vanilla Women, and that teach us how is the proper & correct way of behavior of true Gynarchal Women especially of young Women around these type of male slaves. And it says I quote: "It wasn’t like Women actually appreciated his displays of devotion for the Female Gender. Most of the time they simply ignored him, walking past his kowtowing body as if he was some sort of an object. The only exception was when they required his shoeshine services." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women Everywhere! "The bathroom contained a shoeshine chair close to the exit. If a Lady-Citizen wished or demanded to have Her shoes cleaned, She would simply sit in the designated chair and yell at him. She didn’t need to say anything else. The male slave’s instinct was responsible to bring him up underneath Her. And if he didn’t notice Her sitting or yelling at him there because he was so busy wet-sponging the toilet seats, well, then too bad for him! The punishment for negligence was certainly a harsh one." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women Everywhere!

Blessed be the Gynarchic Goddess!

#FemaleSupremacy #Gynarchy #Matriarchy #AmazonWomen #AmazonState #GynarchicWorld #GynarchyLiterature #Gyneocracy #FemaleRule #GynarchicGoddess #NewAmazonianState

[ripplestitchskein]

To be a bit clearer about my issue with the tweet that I talked about in this post as I was posting in the car on the way home (I was not driving but had to do it fast because I get super motion sick) and have had some time to expand a bit:

If we’re talking about the general concept “Stolas set the parameters of the initial sexual transaction thus rooting their relationship in sex from the start and because Blitz is too self loathing and willfully blind to see the desired parameters have changed it is Stolas who made their relationship all about sex in large part because Blitz was never going to be in a healthy enough space to be the one to change it” then yes I agree with the sentiment.

Stolas could have simply said “I’ll let you use the grimoire in exchange for a date” instead of jumping straight to sexual relationship and they could have gotten to know each other first, maybe one date for each Full Moon*. So yes, he did make it this way, he set the terms. At the start of the show.

(*Side note: This would be a super cute fanfic premise tbh and if the show did something like that, where they need to exchange something and say “Hey, how about we make a deal to go on a date on the Full Moon” it would be a really fucking adorable way to reconcile them *starry eyes*. Just think about how much that would slap. The narrative circle of that would be *chef’s kiss*. )

My problem with the framing of “Stolas started it that way in Murder Family, was super over the top horny for a few episodes, now he must suffer the consequences despite the fact that he has been trying to change their dynamic since Blitz expressed how he felt in Ozzie’s” is that, the events of The Circus completely recontextualize the deal we see made and Stolas’s behavior.

We, the audience, didn’t know in S1 that Blitz initiated the whole thing and that Stolas was just mirroring that energy, so I am extremely understanding of this perception pre-S2. Even up until Western Energy, but by Oops we have enough evidence to show Stolas has been trying, Blitz is just refusing. So Stolas didn’t “make it this way” for where the characters are NOW. Not in a “It is Blitz’s fault” taking sides in the divorce way, but in a “This is about character growth or the deliberate lack of it within the story” way.

My big issue with the tweet now, and didn’t learn until I read the tags of a lovely person is that is apparently from an individual who actually works on the show. And that is….kinda concerning to me. A bit.

The idea that Stolas’s efforts count for nothing because he set the initial deal and behaved badly at the start, that we the audience should still see the current dynamic as “Stolas making everything sexual” is a problem 8 episodes into the 2nd season. We have many examples of him not doing that any longer, he has changed, we the audience have been shown that change. Why is it still being framed this way by the actual creative team?

I don’t know how animation production works, so I’m not sure if the people who work as animators are given the whole picture or not. I don’t even know they are fans necessarily, or if they get their individual parts to work on and that’s it. I have zero background info on how these meetings are conducted. I am not coming from a position of authority in this regard.

Setting aside the dismissal of Stolas’s character growth this season. framing it this way undermines the journey Blitz is on too. At this point in the story he is refusing to acknowledge Stolas’s earnest attempts, his willful ignorance is not a funny gag but a reflection of his character and state of mind. It is implied his own trauma and self loathing make him unable to believe what has being explicitly told to him. This confrontation is the tipping point for further development in one direction or another. His choice now is to continue to ignore it and lose Stolas entirely or to try and work through it in some way. By implying Stolas is the one who created thier current situation way back in S1 implies Blitz’s ignorance of Stolas’s feelings is not because of character’s motivations and his own choices to ignore it but simply because it was that way at the start and it is immutable. Stolas said “sex for book please” and “jelly sandwiches” and Blitz was just “I’m just doing what he said he wanted, now he’s coming out of nowhere with this feelings stuff” when a huge part of showing the audience that it is Blitz’s self loathing driving the conflicts in his life is that he refuses to believe the truth of the situation which is it wasn’t Stolas making it all about sex at all. That Stolas has been trying and Blitz keeps shutting it down because of his issues.

That just seems like a crucial part of what we’re doing here? Yes Stolas creates the situation in S1 but he went out of his way to do the opposite in S2.

Obviously this individual’s qualifications for interpretation, being an actual employee, trump my “I’ve watched it a bunch and obsess over it constantly” credentials by a long shot. But my concern is to have a meeting of people responsible for creating the show reflect this sentiment after what we’ve seen in S2 so far is just a little baffling to me?

Either those attempts by Stolas portrayed on screen and the change in his behavior towards Blitz after he realizes his feelings are meaningless in the face of first impressions being everything to both Blitz and the audience. If that is the case I’m not sure why they would be included if the end result interpretation is still “Stolas horny. Made it all about sex. The end.”

Or, I am misreading something, either the tweet itself or the canon text. This is very possible, tweets being an imperfect communication tool and myself being an imperfect person. But as I stated in the original post, if we’re accounting for what is shown on screen as being how we should interpret the characters, Stolas has been trying for months to shift gears and Blitz is the one who continues to frame it as “just sex”. So I just find the tweet completely out of touch with the narrative we’re consuming.

#stolitz #long post #helluva boss