#to my esteemed guests - ( answered asks )

[eraenaa]

Most Ardently

Inspired by Pride and Prejudice

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader 

Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen had accompanied his younger brother to Highgarden in hopes of securing Daeron a wife— he did not expect he would want to secure a wife for himself as well. 

Warning: Not Proofread, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy

Word Count: 3,702

Aemond walked stiffly as he was about to enter a hall filled with merriment. He only wished to go to Old Town with the purpose of visiting and checking upon his younger brother’s well-being as requested by their mother— he had no wish to be dragged to Highgarden and attend a ball hosted by its Lord. Aemond walked behind Daeron as they entered the hall, all eyes upon them. All attendees bowed when they passed— all showing respect to their princes except for one. Aemond saw you by his right, a chalice in your hand, whispering to a girl beside you with a grin on your lips— completely disregarding the presence of royalty. 

When you finally realized that everyone around you had grown quiet and the music had stopped, you turned to face forward—locking eyes with the unique gaze of Old Valyria. Quickly curtsying as you remembered it was the protocol, bowing your head and breaking your gaze from the prince who only had one eye. His name seemed to elude you. You knew of Prince Daeron well, the prince having spent the week’s end in your family’s keep, hosted by your lord father because he was courting your elder sister. You seem to forget which brother Prince Daeron now walked with— was it Prince Aegon or Prince Aemond? 

“Which prince is that again?” You whispered to your sisters as your father scanned the crowd in search of you two to be presented to the esteemed guests. “That is Prince Aemond,” Your sister answered. “He looks miserable, poor soul,” You whisper, making your sister shake her head in amusement. “Miserable, he may be, but poor, he most certainly is not.” You frowned at your sister’s words. “I was told he has twice the inheritance than any of his brothers— even though he is only the second born, he is greatly favored by his mother and grandfather. That he is set to inherit Dragonstone once Prince Aegon is King.” You hummed and could not think of a reply as you two were finally seen by your father and were whisked away to be presented to the princes. 

Music flooded the room once more as you stood before the princes. A lone eye would intermittently fly to your frame as your father spoke. “Prince Daeron, my daughters, you already know of.” Your father began, and you wanted to playfully roll your eyes at your sister as the moment she and the younger prince locked eyes, a blush ran on both cheeks and a giddy smile plastered on their lips. “Of course, and my I introduce you two to my brother, Aemond.” Prince Daeron smiled as he was delighted to be accompanied by his older brother. 

You and your sister curtsied once more, smiling expectantly at the newly arrived prince who simply stood stiff as a board and offered no signs of recognition to you nor your sister. Simply blinked as his lone gaze would shift between the two of you. You wanted to frown, but your sister who knew you too well took hold of your arm and lightly pinched it as a communication to keep your expression neutral. 

As the song ended and a new one began, you and your sister, along with the prince who courted her, went off to the side to chat whilst your father spoke formally with the One-Eyed prince whose gaze would fly over to your group with each moment passed. “I apologize for my brother— he is just not keen on large parties… nor small ones to be honest,” Prince Daeron explained. “And so you decided to take him to a ball instead?” You asked making your sister nudge your side, fearing that you spoke offense but Prince Daeron simply laughed. You passed your gaze where the older prince stood, seemingly glaring at the room, passing his gaze around the sea of people as if they had wronged him. 

Prince Aemond found his way and stood next to his brother once more. Silent as you three were enveloped in conversation. As a new song began, you smiled as you watched the younger prince escort your sister to the floor for a dance. You passed your gaze to the prince, who stood stoically beside you, unmoving except for his eye. “Do you dance, Prince Aemond?” You inquired, his lilac eye still scanning the room filled with glee— judging as everyone around seemed to be intoxicated with joy. 

“Not if I could help it,” He coldly responded. Not even turning to you as he spoke. It was then that you finally let the confused frown slip your face. But you shrugged him off and walked away, determined not to let his demeanor dampen your mood. Aemond’s eye followed you as you walked off, a small smile on your lips as you admired the merriment around. It did not matter that you were not asked to dance; you were completely fine to watch your sister get more acquainted with the youngest prince of the realm, who had been courting her for the past three moons. 

 After two songs passed, you found yourself resting your feet behind a pillar, your presence unbeknownst to anyone who walked past. “She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld,” You hear the familiar voice of Prince Daeron speak and you could not help but smile at how enamored he was with your sister. You hear Prince Aemond hum, and you peek from behind the pillar to listen more into the princes’ conversation. “And her sister is very agreeable, do you not think so? She is of celebrated beauty here in the Reach.” You smile at the younger prince’s recognition of your beauty but quickly vanishes as you hear Prince Aemond’s response. “Perfectly tolerable, I dare say, but not handsome enough to tempt me.” 

You scoff to yourself as you hear their footsteps depart. Greatly offended by the prince’s words. Your tried to proceed with the night and forget you had heard his offensive words. But as you were forced into the chatter of a group with him, you could not help but let a hint of animosity show. “I wondered who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?” You ask as your mother embarrassingly recalls you and your sister's past suitors who were keen on writing you sonnets after sonnets but never fully committing to marriage. “I thought that poetry was the fruit of love?” Prince Aemond asked, the group hiding away their surprise when the prince finally spoke and joined in on the conversation.

“Of a fine, stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination, I’m convened one poor sonnet will it stone dead.” You replied as you gazed at his lone eye that would fleet away, unable to hold the intensity and teasing mirth in your orbs. “So what do you recommend to encourage affection?” He asked, finally holding your gaze as you felt a smirk rising to your lips. “Dancing, my prince. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.” You smiled and curtsied, watching as his eye flooded with the realization that you had heard what he had said. You walked away before he even got a chance to reply. His gaze followed you as you blended into the sea of guests. 

When the night ended, you told your sister what you had heard while hiding behind a pillar. “Count your blessing, sissy, if he liked you, you’d have to talk to him.” She says as she brushes your hair, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Precisely, as it is, I wouldn’t have danced with him for the whole kingdom, let alone dreary Dragonstone.” You tried to laugh it off and brush away the wound he had inflicted on your pride. After a few moments of silence, your sister spoke once more. “I still cannot believe what he said about you,” she muttered as she finished brushing the fine locks of your hair. “I could easily forgive the prince’s vanity if he had not wounded mine,” You say as you tucked the strands of your hair behind your ear, gazing at the mirror. “Me? Perfectly tolerable? He’d be lucky if anyone who had half of my beauty would find him tolerable,” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, making your sister laugh at your pride and confidence that muddled with each other. You sighed and stood, “I do not wish to think more about the One-eyed Prince. Good night, sister; I shall see you when morning comes.” You say and kiss her cheeks before leaving her room.

When morning came, Prince Daeron was quick to send an invitation to you and your sister to visit him in Old Town. An invitation your sister giddily accepted, and you politely declined— no want to see the One-Eyed Prince once more. But as your beloved sister was taken by fever whilst on her journey there, you had no choice but to follow her. 

“Lady Tyrell, Your Highnesses,” They announced your arrival, and you walked into the room. Biting the inside of your cheeks when Prince Aemond abruptly stood from his chair and bowed.  You quickly curtsied and turned to his brother, “So good of you to come so quickly; your sister has missed you terribly.” Prince Daeron said and walked towards you. “Follow me, and I’ll escort you to where she rests.” He said, and you followed him out of the room but gave one last look at his older brother before doing so. 

Aemond silently trailed behind the two of you. His mind was plagued by your eyes, by your voice, by your smile. His brother had no intention of sending an invitation for you to come to Old Town, but he had infiltrated his thoughts and lightly manipulated him to send the invitation, which you declined, disappointing the prince. It would be cruel to him to admit that he saw your sister’s illness as optimal because now you had no choice but to join them in Old Town. “Oh, sissy,” You fretted as you saw her lying on the bed, pale and had a damp cloth on her forehead. 

“Thank you for taking care of my sister so diligently,” You said to Prince Daeron, who gave a nod and a smile. “Of course, it’s a pleasure she’s here,” You smile at the prince you suspect would be your brother through marriage soon enough. “I shall give you two privacy— if you are in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask,” you smile and nod, watching as Prince Daeron reluctantly removes his gaze from your sister. “He is completely in love with you; I’m quite certain of it.” You smiled at your sister and took her cold hands in yours to warm them. “I’m so glad you’re here; I feel such a terrible imposition.” You laugh, “Please, the prince seemed thrilled that you are here being ill.” You smile, and your sister shakes her head. 

“I’ve come to know of something the other day,” She said, piquing your interest as you thought she would share gossip. “Apparently, your invitation was sent for by Prince Aemond,” Your sister smiled, but you did not mirror it. “He is the one who sent you an invitation— he wishes for your presence.” Your sister further explained as she saw concussion in your eyes. “What for? To insult me once more?” You say bitterly. “Oh, sissy, you cannot let one’s transgression sully your entire image of them. People are bound to make mistakes— I’m certain Prince Aemond did not mean what he had said.” You rolled your eyes and stubbornly shook your head. “It does not matter if he is the one to send the invitation or not— my only purpose of coming here is to see how you are.” You said, and thankfully, your sister no longer brought the subject up. 

Days passed as you were in the presence of the Princes as you waited for your sister to recover. You found yourself engaging in more arguments than conversations with the Prince, whom your sister said was the one to send you the invitation. If not engaged in lively arguments, both of you would simply catch each other’s eyes. Gazing at each other silently, secretively until caught. 

You were in the parlor with Prince Daeron, playing a round of cards, when his brother came in with a book. “You waste your time with the frivolity of gambling,” You feel yourself frown but quickly take hold of your expression, turning to the younger prince whose turn it was to disagree with his brother. “It is just a bit of fun, brother. Not everything in life must be overly serious. Come, join us,” Daeron said and discarded in the middle of the velvet table. 

“I’d rather read of civility than play cards and be at the threshold of a scoundrel,” Prince Aemond stated, his eye flying to you. Resisting the urge to smirk as the furrow in your brow returned as well as the pout on your plump lips. When your eyes locked, he raised his brow in question. “Anything to share, Lady Tyrell? Any musings or disagreement you’d wish to discuss with your prince?” He hummed, tone almost teasing. You knew he was baiting you, and if you had more energy that day, you’d happily take it, but you shook your head. “None, Your Highness.” You say, slightly disappointing the prince, for the only opportunity he had to speak with you and keep your attention with him was through your arguments.

When supper came, you entered the dining room expecting two princes, just like the other nights. But only the One-Eyed Prince waited for you. You quickly curtsied as he stood, “Where is Prince Daeron, your Highness?” You inquired as you were assisted to sit by one of the footmen. “My brother says he wishes to retire early tonight— it would be just us… if that is agreeable with you. If not, then say so, and I’ll take my supper in the servant’s quarters.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out why he was still challenging you. “I am completely fine with any arrangement, my prince,” You say and proceed with the overly quiet meal as the prince and you shared no word but only stare at each other— challenging gazes that neither fell victim to. 

The following morning, your sister had recovered enough for the both of you to head home. No anger wanting to impose and overwelcome your stay with the princes. “Prince Daeron, I do not know how to thank you,” You hear your sister say in gratitude, “You’re welcome anytime you feel the least bit poorly,” You bit back your smile as you followed your sister to the carriage. “Prince Aemond,” You cursed stoically— only doing it as he was a prince, and it would be impertinent not to note his presence. You turned to Prince Daeron and let a smile slip your lips, curtsying to the prince you hoped to be your brother in marriage in the near future. 

You raised your leg to step foot in the carriage but were slightly startled as you felt someone take hold of your left hand, assisting you in boarding the wheelhouse. You turned to the prince, who took hold of your hand. Aemond quickly savored the surprise in your eyes and how your plump lips parted before relinquishing his hold of your hand and returning to the keep without another word, stretched his hand that touched yours as an unfamiliar tingle consumed it. 

It was not a week later that you returned to Hightower, where another ball was to commence. You and your sister walked, arms linked, you wearing the green of your house whilst her the yellow, both of you had flowers adorned in your hair. “Will this perhaps be the night you will finally be a prince’s betrothed?” You teased and laughed as your sister’s cheeks bloomed with color. “Do not get my hopes up, sissy; it has been three moons since the Prince had first started courting me… in all honesty, my faith is running thin.” You frowned and shook your head. “Do not speak as such, sister. He is in love with you— I am quite certain of it,” 

You straightened your back as you neared the hall's threshold, the hosts standing before it to welcome their guests. “I—I’m so pleased you’re here,” Prince Daeron told your sister whilst your gaze was traveling the room, distracted and trying to ignore the challenging yet indifferent gaze of a lone lilac eye. “And how are you tonight, my lady?” Prince Daeron asked, but you were too preoccupied. “My lady?” He called once more, and your sister elbowed your side. “Are you looking for someone?” Prince Aemond drawled, and you shook your head at his inquiring eye, glancing over to where your gaze was. “No, not at all,” You said and quickly curtsied to enter the hall, an eye following you as walked away. 

Aemond tried to refocus his gaze to anywhere or anyone else but he could not. It had been steady on you since the moment you arrived, watching you whilst you were chatting with a group of girls you had known since childhood, when suddenly you were approached by a young man from house Redwyne, and a gnawing feeling in his gut announced itself as he saw a smile bloom into your pink lips as you gave your hand to the young man who escorted you to dance. Aemond’s hold on his chalice tightened as he saw you giggle with the man who spun you around and dared to keep his hold on your waist. The prince saw red as he watched the man dip down and whisper something in your ear, earning a sweet, bashful blush on your cheeks. 

The prince dug his nails into his palm, quickly moving to the sea of dancers to take your partner's spot before anyone else would have a chance to dance with you— before anyone else would have a chance to hold you. “May I have the next dance, lady Tyrell?” The prince asked the moment the first song ended. You looked around the room as most eyes were on you, a peculiar scene as the stoic prince, who seemed to detest dancing and preferred to stand by the side, asked you for a dance. You licked your lips before answering, “You may,” You quietly said. 

“Did I just agree to dance with Prince Aemond?” You whispered to your sister, who had a teasing smile on her lips. “I dare say you will find him very amiable, sissy.” Your sister smiled, and you shook your head. Stubborn and still holding a bias against the second-born prince of the realm. “It would be most inconvenient since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity!” You rambled but could not help but laugh at your fate. Your sister joined along and pulled you towards the dance floor as the second song was to start, and two princes waited for the two of you. 

You were stood across the One-Eyed Prince. His stance is still stiff, and you began to wonder if he’d be any good at dancing. Aemond bit his tongue as you curtsied before him, your dress and lowered stance giving him a slight view of your bosom. He clenched his jaw and willed any thought of impropriety may leave his thoughts and body. 

“I love this dance,” you say as you circle around the prince, his eye following your every movement. Aemond would note that they would waver upon his gaze if it were anyone else but not you. “Indeed, it is most invigorating,” he answered, slightly cringing to himself if that was the proper response. There was another moment of tense silence between the two of you, you sighing as you were starting to grow accustomed to it, but in all honesty, you’d rather talk that night, even if it were with him. “I believe it is your turn to say something, my prince.” You say and feel your lips twitch upward as you have the devilish thought to tease him.

“I talked about the dance; now, you ought to remark on the size of the room or the couples present.” You say as you feel his hold on your hand tighten ever so lightly. “I am perfectly happy to oblige you, my lady. Please advise me of what you would like most to hear,” You let a smirk slip your lips at his sardonic response. “That reply will do for now,” You said as you focused on the dance. But you could not truly do so because it seems your whole being was intent on focussing itself on the prince. The way he stared you down, the way his lithe body gracefully glided with the dance, the way it felt to hold his hand. It would shame you to say that after the dance, your body felt alight, and the beat of your heart ran almost alarmingly in your chest. 

You excused yourself from the crowded room, finding calm outside in a marble gazebo. The structure barely lit and only illuminated by the light of the moon. You rested your back on the cool pillar, hoping it would ease the inner heat that torched your body. You closed your eyes and tried to control your ragged breathing and raging thoughts of the One-Eyed Prince. 

“Lady Tyrell,” You jumped in your spot, eyes growing wide as you were startled by the prince's presence. “My prince,” You breathed out, uncertain why he had followed you. “In vain have I struggled. It will not do.” He began to speak rendering you more confused. “What… your highness, I—“ He shook his head and dared to step forward. You stared at his eye, lilac darker in the dim light. 

“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell I admire and love you.” Aemond watched you as your lips parted and your fine eyes filled with utter shock. “Most Ardently.”

#house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #pride and predjudice 2005 #pride and prejudice #jane austen #house tyrell #house targaryen #enemies to lovers #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #mr darcy #elizabeth bennet

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 24

WC: 3102, Masterpost

Danny stared up at the towering facade of Wayne manner from its front steps.

Yep, clearly cursed.

Jason didn’t seem much more cheerful from where he stood next to Danny.

“We can still run,” Danny offered.

Jason just sighed, “No, we came through the gate so Alfred knows we’re here. If we left I’d get the eyebrow next time.”

“Ah,” Danny said with a sage nod. “The eyebrow, of course. Very scary.”

“Just you watch, once you’ve been around long enough and stop being an esteemed guest, you’ll get the eyebrow too,” Jason warned.

The warning just made Danny grin.

“What?” Jason asked, eying the smile wearily.

“You planning to keep me around long enough for me to stop being an esteemed guest?”

Jason huffed out a laugh and leaned over to brush a kiss to Danny’s temple. “You bet I am. You’d have to die to be rid of me. Oh wait…”

Danny laughed and bumped his shoulder against Jason. “Okay, well, I’ll fear the eyebrow when it gets there. First I have to get through tonight.”

“You did fine with the horde of annoying siblings.”

“Yeah, well, they got to kick my ass repeatedly in Mario Kart and Party. I don’t think that’s going to work with your dad or the guy who’s basically your grandfather.”

“Not really, Bruce is surprisingly bad at video games and Alfred would never.”

“Shame, getting beat up and getting back up is my best trait,” Danny said with a dramatic sigh.

“Just be yourself. It was enough for me,” Jason said.

Danny felt a blush crawl up his neck and cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, sap.”

Jason chuckled, pressed one more kiss to Danny’s temple, and finally took the last few steps to knock on the door. It opened almost instantly to an extremely distinguished older man in a tailed suit and white gloves.

Danny swallowed nervously.

“Master Jason, it is very good to see you tonight.”

“Hey Alfie,” Jason said. He stepped into the manor and pulled Danny in by their linked hands. “Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny Nightingale. Danny, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”

Alfred gave a little nod. “A pleasure to meet you Master Daniel.”

Danny couldn’t help but wince at that. With the manor it brought back far too many memories that Danny didn’t want to think about. “Um, I prefer Danny, if… that’s not a problem, Mr. Pennyworth?”

“Of course not, Master Danny. But you must call me Alfred then.”

“I can do that, Alfred,” Danny said with a relieved smile. As he was handing over his coat and scarf, he picked up some noise from the stairs and tried not to turn that way.

“Remember, Bruce tonight, not Brucie or you know who,” Dick whispered in a way that Danny wasn’t supposed to hear. The benefits of death.

“Yes Dick, I think you’ve said that enough,” someone who must have been Bruce answered. At least he sounded mostly amused by his son’s harping.

As much as Danny was very aware that the Bruce Wayne was Jason’s father, it was still something to see Bruce Wayne coming down the stairs. He looked nothing like the public figure, not dressed down like he was in a dark shirt and a cozy looking cardigan.

It was almost worse because now Danny felt completely wrong footed.

“Jason,” Bruce said with a smile. “And you must be Danny.”

“Yes sir,” Danny said as he reflexively shook the offered hand.

“Just Bruce, please. That’s quite a grip you have,” Bruce said.

Danny’s blush deepened and he quickly released Bruce’s hand.

“He said he trains with a xiphos and a dory,” Damian said from the side of the room where he basically just seemed to appear.

“Greek weaponry?” Bruce asked with a raised brow. “That’s unusual.”

“My teacher’s Greek and a fan of historic weaponry,” Danny said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not very good with them though, as much as she hopes to change that. I prefer hand to hand.”

“He’s pretty good at that. We spar once a week,” Jason said. He stepped to stand beside Danny, which Danny was grateful for.

Even aware off all the eyes in the room tracking his movement, Danny couldn’t help but lean into Jason’s side. It helped ease some of his nerves when Jason instantly draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Who else are we expecting?” Jason asked.

“Just Tim and Duke, they’re upstairs,” Dick answered as he finally came forward. “Hey Danny.”

“Hi Dick,” Danny said, “and hello Damian.”

“Yes, hello,�� Damian said with a sniff. “Did you bring your xiphos?”

Danny did his best to stifle a smile. “Sorry, I don’t have one at my place, you’ll have to wait until I can make a trip back to Illinois.”

“Is that where you’re from, Danny?” Bruce asked as he waved them towards a room to the left.

“Born and raised. I came from a little city called Amity Park,” Danny explained, as if Batman didn’t already know that, especially after Tim’s digging.

Jason steered them over to the the two seater sofa in the sort of sitting room only rich people had. Once they had settled in, he took Danny’s hand, rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles in a grounding touch.

“Gotham must be quite the change.” Bruce took an armchair for himself while Dick nudged Damian to the other couch.

“It is, I’ve never lived somewhere so big. I won’t pretend it hasn’t been overwhelming at times, but it’s also really nice that the city has so much to offer. I’ve been enjoying living here.”

“You’re here for school if I remember correctly?”

“Aerospace engineering at Gotham U,” Danny explained. “It’s my first year, but I’ve got all my gen eds done so I’m somewhere between a sophomore and junior.”

Bruce gave a little nod and leaned back in his seat. “Are you considering a masters or doctorate?”

“I am, opportunities get so much better with one, but I’ll just have to see in two years. I’m, um, on scholarship so it will depend if I can get a stipend for grad school,” Danny said, once again reminded of how awkward it was to be on a Wayne scholarship while knowing the Waynes. (Sitting in their manor only made the feeling worse.)

“I hope that it works out for you. Wayne Enterprises has an aerospace division, you know.”

“I do,” Danny said. He really wished he could stop blushing over everything behind said to him. “It’s somewhere I’ve strongly though about applying too. If I want to stay in Gotham, it’s really my only chance too.”

Jason’s hand tightened around Danny’s for a moment.

Bruce seemed to catch it, of course he did. It made Danny very aware he was in a room with Batman. With lots of other Bats.

“Are you hoping to be able to?”

“Yeah. There’s…” Danny gave in an glanced at Jason. It wasn’t as if the others weren’t going to pick up on it anyways, so he might as well act honestly. “… a lot to stay around for, right now.”

“Well, I think you can at least be confident you’ll get an interview,” Bruce said with a chuckle.

It made Danny shake his head a little. “I mean, I’ll take that, but I don’t want a job unless I’m actually good for it. I get that networking is a real thing, but that should only get me in the door. If I get to work for WE, I want it to be because I worked hard, because I am working hard at this, and because I deserver the job.”

Bruce smiled. It was a slight thing, but for the first time that night Danny felt it was completely real. “That’s noble of you. Don’t worry, none of the family sits on hiring boards at that level.”

“Um, that’s good,” Danny said, realizing that he just basically told a family made from nepotism that he didn’t want to accept nepotism. He shot a desperate look to Jason.

The jerk just laughed at him.

“Don’t change,” Jason said before pressing another one of those soft kisses to Danny’s temple.

Danny was really starting to like them.

“Hey Danny, good to see you again,” Duke said as he came into the sitting room. It sounded honest coming from him. “Sorry I wasn’t down when you got here.”

“Hey Duke, homework?”

“So much homework,” he lamented.

“Yeah, the end of this semester is going to crush me,” Danny said. “I’ve got, like, three projects starting next week.”

“Good luck, dude,” Duke said, leaning over from where he had sat on the couch to fist bump Danny.

Danny looked up as someone cleared his throat to see Alfred in the doorway. “Master Tim is still missing?”

“You know how he is,” Bruce said.

“Indeed,” Alfred said, sounding like he wanted to sigh but was too proper to. “I shall fetch him in a moment. Dinner is served, sirs.”

-

“Stick a fork in me I’m done,” Danny said right before he face planted dramatically onto the couch.

“You did great,” Jason soothed, hanging up the coat that Danny had discarded mindlessly next to the door.

“Eempfatinerifatmn mone.”

“You’re going to have to stop making out with the throw pillow if you want me to understand you,” Jason said before having to duck the aforementioned throw pillow as it was thrown at his head.

“I said I just had dinner with Batman, I’m done,” Danny said as he rolled over. He blinked up at the ceiling. “Oh, we’re at your place.”

“How out of it were you on the ride?” Jason asked. He sat on the arm of the couch and brushed back some of Danny’s unruly hair.

“Dinner with Batman,” Danny reiterated seriously.

“Point taken. But really, you did great.”

Danny grumbled.

“You did. You have Damian curious about how you fight. Duke and Dick think you’re funny. You even talked shop with Tim.”

“Tim still doesn’t trust me, or Dick,” Danny pointed out.

“Tim doesn’t trust anyone,” Jason said. “And Dick likes you, he just needs time still. It was a scare for him and it hasn’t been that long. Alfred thinks you’re darling, I’m pretty sure, and Bruce smiled; real smiles.”

“I just…”

“You’re just over thinking it. Why don’t I take you to bed before you fall asleep,” Jason said. Then he realized what he had said. “That’s, I mean, just to sleep. If you’d be comfortable with that? If not I can drive you home or…”

Jason trailed off as Danny snagged his hand and kissed his knuckles gently. “Now who’s over thinking?”

Now smiling softly, Jason asked, “That a yes then?”

“As long as I can borrow a shirt to sleep in, that’s a yes.”

“You’ll be swamped,” Jason warned as he stood. He bent down and picked Danny up in one easy motion.

Danny gave a little squeak and quickly wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. “I can live with that when I get first class service like this.”

“Lazy fish.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-

Jason stopped in surprise as he entered his office after a meeting on Monday. “Bruce?”

“Jaylad! I thought that we would go and grab lunch.”

“I, sure,” Jason said, confused despite himself. “Just give me a moment to finish up a few notes from the meeting?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… five? Ten?”

“Ten,” Jason agreed, moving around to sit at his desk.

It was only his training to focus that stopped him from being distracted by the fact that Bruce wanted to get lunch. It’s not that it never happened, just that it was rare enough to be odd. For all of the Brucie persona (though that had been toned down ever since Damian showed up), Bruce was actually very busy at the company and Jason had thrown himself into the deep end of the foundation. It was hard to find time even without the rest of their lives getting in the way. And it would be a lie to say things were never awkward between them still.

Exactly ten minutes later he was meeting Bruce in the lobby.

“I was thinking that cafe down the block, the one on Polk,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, that works, they’re pretty good,” Jason agreed. He let them get out on the street before he asked, “So is this lunch for a reason?”

“Somewhat. I wanted to talk with you about last night’s dinner.”

Jason’s heart jumped a beat.

“Danny seems a very nice person,” Bruce said. Jason braced himself for the ‘but’. “And I’m glad that you felt comfortable bringing him to the manor for dinner. It means a lot to me that we’re in a place that you’re willing to do that.”

“You don’t have concerns?” Jason said, honestly shocked at how easy Bruce, the notorious over planner, was being about this.

“Of course I have concerns, Jaylad, I’m a parent. I’m concerned how you’ll do if it doesn’t work out. I’m concerned if it does. I’m concerned for you having to deal with the press, both of you. And I won’t pretend I’m not concerned about his parents, they sound one step away from being evil scientists. It makes me concerned about what Danny had to go through growing up,” Bruce said, “but none of that stops me from being happy for you that you’ve found Danny.”

“Oh,” Jason said, at a loss for any other words. He had honestly expected to have to go over the same issues and worries that Tim had again with Bruce. Maybe Timbit briefing Bruce had really worked… or maybe Jason was still too used to expecting the worst of Bruce, even when it wasn’t fair. It was a little easier these days to see where they had both messed up. “I’m happy with him, Bruce. He… everything is just brighter since I’ve known him. And I don’t want to have to hide that from you all. I mean, I did at the start because it was all new and I was still figuring it out, but… I want you to be able to know him too. He’s important to me.”

“Well, he’s welcome over at the manor whenever, barring emergencies of course,” Bruce said, alluding to the night life. “I think Alfred is determined to feed the boy after the way Danny praised the meal last night.”

Jason chuckled and held the door to the cafe open for Bruce. “Yeah, it’s easy to feel that way about Danny.”

They were seated quickly and both spent a few minutes looking over the menu. After they had ordered, Jason fiddled with his glass of water, wiping away a trail of condensation. “Hey Dad?”

Bruce looked up right away. It was rare for Jason to ever call him ‘Dad’ these days. “Yes son?”

“I’ve been thinking about going to college?”

“Okay,” Bruce said, folding his hands and giving Jason his undivided attention. “Tell me your thoughts?”

-

“So,” Jason said as soon as Danny picked up the phone. “You can officially consider yourself to have the stamp of approval.”

“Huh?” Danny tried to pull his thoughts away from the equation he was staring at.

“Bruce cornered me for lunch. You are formally welcome at the manor any time.”

“Oh, wow, okay. That went better than I thought,” Danny said.

“I told you you did great,” Jason said.

“I guess at least not badly,” Danny said.

“Fish.”

“Fine,” Danny said with an exaggerated sigh. “I did great. I am amazing. I am the very best there ever was.”

“Damn right,” Jason said. “How has your day been?”

Danny flopped back onto the floor. “Ugh, project one is already eating my soul.”

“Anything I can do to help in these dark times?”

“Make sure I see the sky every now and again?” Danny joked. “And maybe… we can repeat last night?”

It was the best sleep Danny had gotten in a long time.

“Of course we can.” The noise on Jason’s end changed, and Danny had to assume he stepped into his building. “Speaking of the end of the semester, are you leaving Gotham for the break?”

Danny tried not to tense. “Maybe around the new years but I thought I’d just take it easy before. Sleep off the semester.”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

Yeah, there it was.

“Um, really I thought I’d just hole up and watch a bunch of really bad movies like Sharknado Five.”

“They’ve made five of those things?” Jason asked. He sounded mostly horrified and a little curious.

“Six, and three spin offs.”

“Huh. Well, I know it might be, a lot, but if you want, you can come over to the manor for Christmas?”

Danny frowned down at where he was absentmindedly picking at the seam on the couch. “I don’t… really like Christmas? The whole season sorta gets to me so I would really rather just… not.”

Here it comes. Three, two, one…

“Okay.”

What?

“What?”

“Okay,” Jason said simply. “Can I give you your present for, I don’t know, Solstice instead? Just since I already have it.”

Danny couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face if he tried. Jason didn’t mind. He wasn’t pushing or bullying or guilt tripping about it. It was just… okay. “Yeah, Solstice sounds perfect.”

“Good. And I’ll make you something to stick in the oven for food.”

“You don’t have to,” Danny said, even as the very thought warmed him.

“I want to. Also it might butter you up to say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Going with me as my plus one to the Wayne New Years Eve Gala.”

“A gala?”

“Just, the press already knows about you. It might be weird if you don’t come? And I… it would be nice to have you there.” The nerves were clear in Jason’s voice.

Danny really couldn’t say no to that, could he? Besides, he could visit Jazz after New Years still. “Okay, but you have to make sure I look alright.”

“Done. You’ll be the prettiest orca there.”

Danny covered up a snort of laughter. “Isn’t it supposed to be penguin suits for tuxes? Besides, orcas aren’t even fish, they’re really big murder dolphins.”

“I could put you in a gold suit, then you’d be my goldfish.”

“Jason, no,” Danny said, trying hard not to keep from laughing.

“You’d be the talk of Gotham.”

“You mean the laughing stock.”

“I wouldn’t let them, not about my fish,” Jason said. “Can we bargain for blue? It would match your eyes.”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Danny said. “I’ll be watching for you adding in fish references.”

“I would never!”

“You’re a liar.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-----

AN: Danny has survived meeting the family! He is very sleepy, but he survived! Sorry for the people waiting for a pissed off Bruce, but that's not my Batman ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tim's research and questioning last week did its job to let Bruce feel prepared and Bruce really does want his children happy.

And a gala on the horizon for the next part! How exciting!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

[p1nkshield]

Welcome esteemed guests to chapter four of my still unnamed fanfic! Please place your suggestions on a name in the comments if you feel so inclined. :)

Bruce massaged the bridge of his nose as he turned on the coms, hopefully one of his family members would have one in right now.

“Team, Constantine will be here in five to visit our guest. Either be in gear and in the bat cave or make yourselves scarce.”

“Understood Father.”

“Why is Constantine coming here?”

“You got it, b!”

Bruce did his best to answer Tim’s question as he surveyed the confiscated items from the self proclaimed guys in white, eyeing the vials of bright green liquid he had yet to finish analyzing.

“The infinite realms sounded familiar to me so I posed some inquiries about it to Constantine. This apparently set off the alarms for him as I attempted to elaborate. Now he’s on his way.”

Bruce made no efforts to hide his exasperation as he headed towards the zeta tube entrance of the bat cave.

Jason sat in a large ornate chair vigilantly as the boy he was tasked to watch slept in the plush guest bed. He looked no older then seven. Who could hurt such a small kid? The thought made Jason sick.

Dick entered the room after knocking gently. “Hey little wing, did you hear Bruce earlier? Constantine is really gunning it over here. We need to either get lost or put on our dominos at least.”

Jason scoffed at the cutesy nickname and made a move to get up until Danny stirred in his sleep. Jason stopped in his tracks.

“Can’t” Jason uttered

“What?” Dick said inquisitively

“Can’t leave him.”

Jason really couldn’t. It was like he was glued to the chair at the bedside of this kid.

Dick looked with concern at his younger brother. “I see… how about this! I will go get your gear and keep an eye on him while you change in the en-suite. That way you aren’t far!”

Jason squinted his eyes at the proposition.

“Jason, I promise Danny is safe here. You don’t have to worry.”

It ended up working out perfectly.

“Hey Disco boy”

“hm?”

“I don’t know what came over me, thanks for not giving me a hard time.”

“Aww you’re welcome mama bird!”

Jason met this teasing with a myriad of expletives that were whisper-yelled at his brother.

“Try not to be a helicopter parent!” Dick laughed as he retreated from the room.

Danny stirred once again as his eyes flitted open. He sat up groggily and surveyed his surroundings. Jason could tell panic was seeping into his veins as he saw his unfamiliar environment.

“Hey, it’s okay”

Danny’s head snapped towards the source of the voice.

“You’re safe” Jason continued “ someone named CW sent you here to heal”

Jason’s soothings seemed to reach him as he relaxed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Where is he?!? Bats,this could be the catalyst of an inter dimensional war! A war against a people who’s base power set is comparable to Martian Manhunter do you understand?”

“Constantine”

“This literal child usurped Pariah Dark Batman.”

Batman blinked as that name held no weight for him.

“Pariah Dark was a ruler so cruel and powerful that he was banished by his own subjects. The only way for power to change hands is via single combat but no one could do it.”

“Constantine?”

“Until the new king broke him out of his sarcophagus and promptly handed his ass to him! Rumors are that he’s not even full grown yet!”

“Constantine!”

The magic user paused, snapped out of his hasty exposition.

“The boy is still resting and hasn’t woken up yet. In the letter we received we were told that this is the safest place for him to recover. I’m sure that whoever is in charge is doing everything they can to keep the child safe.”

Just as Batman was about to continue to explain how he managed to get in this situation Jason exited the elevator to the bat cave.

“Yes I promise he’s nice. No, he dresses like a bat to scare bad guys.”

Danny who was holding tightly to Jason’s continued to rattle out questions.

“Who is that?” Danny asked as he pointed towards Constantine who looked thoroughly confused.

“This tiny tyke is the Ghost King? Oh come on you’re pulling my leg or something spooks.”

Constantine then addressed the boy

“You defeated Pariah Dark single handedly?”

Danny replied to his questioning with a crinkled look of confusion.

“… Ghost King? …Pariah Dark?”

Realization dawned on Constantine.

“Was he reduced to his core?”

Jason replied with another question.

“Is that why he looked like a fancy rock?”

A beat of silence filled the room.

“I can’t help you with this. Let me know when he remembers enough for me to grovel for the sake of this dimension.”

Constantine made his way towards the zeta tube and swiftly left.

Danny blinked a few times, processing the strange man and his strange questions before letting go of Jason’s hand.

“Where are you headed kid?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“There’s not much in terms of refreshments down here how about we- hey woah don’t drink that!”

It was far too late Danny had phased his hand through the container holding several large ampules of a glowing green liquid. He snapped off the top at the scored break point and began to drink it.

“Danny! Danny spit that out right now!” Jason hurriedly approached.

“Why? It’s good! See?”

Before Jason could protest Danny offered some of his drink to Jason.

Despite his best efforts he smelled some of the unidentified liquid. It smelled … really good. Before he himself or Bruce could stop him, he took a small sip. It was sweet, citrusy and effervescent. He took another sip before finishing the whole thing. It lessened a headache he forgot he had.

“Heeeey! That was mine!”

Jason regarded the boy who looked at him with intense betrayal.

He reached into the containment unit and uncorked another ampule with some effort and handed it to him absently, still confused as to what just happened.

This is the second time this week Bruce has been genuinely shocked by something. He did not like this feeling at all. He looked forlornly at his samples that had just been raided like a fridge. He let out a long sigh.

@boo-ghosties @skulld3mort-1fan @addie-lover-of-stories @isaactheautobot @krzys2000 @ectoradiation @worthlesswall @mewzaque @mnemovoid @phantom-dc @justwannabecat @kitty-page @cutelittlebeanie @meira-3919 @amyheart19 @scarlette-foxx @thegatorsgoose @farmercale

#dc x dp fic #dc x dp #fanfic #Bruce is just looking at the ampules he made like :( #At the Core fic

[lovezbrownies]

Long live the queen. (Yan!Queen x Reader)

Masterlist

Synopsis: A queen is nothing without her lover.

Queen Nia x Reader

Warnings: Forced marriage, abuse of power, violence (not against reader), not edited.

(Set years before Gen and Grim.)

Being the Queen right hand was never easy. But being her beloved wasn’t any easier.

Queen Nia has been ruler of Xelera since she was 16 years of age. However due to tradition she still hasn’t shown her face to the public, or any part of her to begin with. Any of her decrees were announced via the Board of Chiefs. The Xeleran tradition calls for a queen to be crowned at age 30, so a young princess cannot show her face until her coronation at 30. And in regard for princesses crowned before 30, they still were not allowed to show themselves.

Stupid old tradition no one really cared for since every queen was crowned at the perfect age. Except Nia, whose parents were brutally assassinated during some announcement, forcing Nia to take to the throne and own up to her responsibilities at a young rebellious age.

She liked this tradition. Only to use it to her advantage and sneak out of the palace and seek her favorite person. You. Her loved one. You were a servant, but you had the night shift, where you assisted residents and nobles whenever one called for you from 8 pm to 5 am, excluding anything sexual of course. That was a different type of servant and they don’t work nights due to how aggressive nobles can get by then.

There were two sections of her large palace, a section for the public and any noble visitors (Named Pulica), and a section for Nia, a carefully selected team of servants to tend to her, and a few guards (Named Khas). So, when Nia got too bored of her life as queen at age 20, she decided to sneak off into Pulica or even outside the palace entirely and cause some form of mischief with some rando.

But as she finally slinked her way into Pulica, ready to head to the gates exiting the palace she bumped into someone. Ready to flee back to her cozy room, but instead she had her breath stolen right out of her. She was looking at the most attractive person she has seen! And instead of appreciating her beauty as much as she did with you. They just dusted themselves off, bowed deeply, apologized and asked if she needed any assistance.

When she slowly shook her head no, still stunned, you smiled brightly at her. “My name is Y/n, please call for me if you need anything, esteemed guest.” Nia felt incredibly ashamed when she stuttered when telling you her name, how dare you fluster the queen to the point of stuttering. The queen was above that, but of course to preserve her identity she didn’t say any of this outloud.

Since then she would seek you out for entertainment during late nights, you’d stay up with her and play games, paint, knit, whatever hobby Nia felt like participating in that night. The more Nia spent with you she realized how perfect you were for her. So cute, so obedient, so indulgent in her needs. That was your job. That was because you loved her. 

There came one night where she went off to your designated shift area. Nia could not find you, she kept seeing this other servant rather than you. So eventually pulling herself up by her big girl boots she approached them, demanding to know where you had gone. “Y/n? My apologies however they’ve been switched to the day shift.” She raged that night. Her room was in disarray, she looked like a complete mess, and she demanded answers from the Chief of Management. 

Nia had threatened the answers right out of their throat. They confessed to coming to know of her late night activities from a few gossiping servants talking about how some random woman would only appear at night to take up a certain servant’s time. The chief confessed to changing your schedule so Nia can prioritize her time on her duties. Nia saw red, she never saw herself as the aggressive type, not at all, but something completely possessed her at that moment. 

Her tiny 5’4 frame somehow manages to beat the shit out of them, to the point where the big bad Chief of Management ended up on the floor, lying in the fetal position. Nia beat them black and blue, her hands, clothes, and face covered in blood she fired them immediately after. And the first time Nia has ever done any real work since she’s been crowned was to get you back to your old shift.

The next day there was a lot of discussion on who will be the new Chief of management throughout Khas, Nia’s mind, however, was set on you. So, she just picked the first candidate her Board of Chiefs suggested and started getting herself ready and pretty for her beloved.

Years pass as you two keep meeting up at night, you admittedly had fallen for her at one point due to her charm. However, you thought she would never like you back due to her social status, so you moved on. It may have taken a while to move on but you did! It was far easier since you only saw her at nights and she hardly accepts leaving the palace for a night out.

It was always odd for you how she was against leaving palace grounds but you eventually came to the conclusion that she must be the queen’s right hand maid. Those servants aren’t allowed off palace grounds, out of Khas in general, which might be why she only comes out at night. There were a few times you two ended up outside the palace and in the city but Nia would spend a lot of her time looking behind her in paranoia.

5 years left until her coronation and Nia was being pressured to look at suitors to rule her kingdom right beside her. Of course none of them are allowed to meet or see her, most of these suitors were chosen by the board from what they already know from past diplomatic meetings. Nia couldn’t care whose picture and portfolio she was presented. She was bratty, she didn’t want anyone other than you.

While the Board of Chiefs at the time were sick of how snotty she was about you, they realized there would be no way she’d ever marry if it wasn’t you. So they accepted it, they allowed her to propose to you and marry as soon as time will allow it.

Nia was overjoyed! Years of tantrums and abuse of power finally worked! She has you completely to herself! Bingo! It was quite a sight to see a 25 year old Queen dance and jump around in joy. She then ignored all her duties (as usual) and pampered and made herself pretty for you, she put on her prettiest dress, her best makeup, her cutest jewelry. 

That night was special for her. So special, and it’ll be special for you too! Whether you liked it or not. You denied her at first but she knew that it was just because you were scared to be ruler. It’s okay, she will teach you and assist you along the way! Or you two can throw your duties onto other people, as she normally does, and go out and have fun! Nia will ensure your complete happiness.

Nia did not take no for an answer, she guessed you’d be too nervous to accept the Queen as your wife so she had guards follow her until she called for them. And when she did that she commanded them to take hold of you and send you off to Khas, where you two shall spend eternity together, forever.

It was quite a sight, you trying to refuse to sign the contract that will forever bind you to the psycho you called a friend, and Nia threatening to execute your friends and family publicly. With no other choice, you reluctantly signed, making her swear not to hurt your loved ones.

Nia made sure to emphasize that there was no escape. If you do try to escape she will execute someone in your family, and every attempt to escape will end in the death of an innocent life. You were stuck. Forever Queen Nia of Xelera’s arm candy.

#x reader #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere x darling #gn reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #Female yandere #female yandere x reader #fem yandere #fem yandere x reader

[bestiesenpai]

Chef Getou

Yes i have watched the bear thank you for asking (i have also worked in kitchens before please respect me), fem reader in the way you are referred to as miss and daughter. All the dishes & names of people are from actual michelin star restaurants around the world

10.3k words

Your hands shook with excitement, practically falling down as you tried to stop yourself from sprinting to the restaurant. You’d been called by the executive chef himself to work at his esteemed restaurant; he already had one Michelin star under his belt and he was hungry for another as his letter said.

“Ah, you must be Miss (Y/N).” The maître d’ greeted you at the door, her hair tied back in a tight bun. “Right this way.” Swiftly turning, she didn’t check back to see if you were following her. Rushing to keep pace with her, you looked around the dining area quickly. It was lit with undoubtedly expensive hanging lights with some well placed candles on the tables. Sparkling silverware and intricately folded napkins atop glazed stoneware sat on the tables and a light scent wafted through the air, one of baked goods and something fruity.

Going around a corner, you entered the kitchen, immediately nudged to the side and back against the wall. The kitchen was bright, sterile almost from how clean it was - but also heavy with tense silence. Every worker stood at attention around the perimeter of the kitchen, all of them focused on the chef before them, someone you instantly recognized.

“So, tell me again what this is.” Getou spoke, his voice so calm it raised goosebumps on your arm. His hair was tied back in a tight bun and gripped tightly in his fingers was a spoon, a scoop of sorbet sitting atop it. It came from the small glass dish to his side, decorated with a mint leaf and a small slice of lemon.

“It’s- it’s a coupe colonel…” The person standing before him looked tiny in front of him. They were cowering in their spot, fingers twitching at their side but unable to move even an inch away from his deadly stare.

“Really? Because it tastes like absolute shit to me!” Letting the spoon clatter loudly onto the counter, Getou picked up the glass dish and held it between them. “You mean to look me in the eye and tell me that this is the coupe colonel I asked for? Where is the flavor, the tartness? And did you make this vodka in the fucking toilet? Tell me, answer me seriously now.”

“I’m sorry sir, I truly am. I can remake-”

“Not in this kitchen.” Taking a staggeringly deep breath, he put the glass down and looked at it with disgust. “You’ll never make another coupe colonel in this kitchen. Now,” Letting his eyes wander the room, he briefly looked at you before looking in front of him, “Go make something else for tonight or consider yourself out.”

No one dared move until Getou did, no one dared take a breath too loud until he did; they were all waiting for his next decision. Standing straight up, he closed his eyes for a moment to let his heart steady before snapping his fingers twice. And just like that, the hold he had on everyone broke and they scattered like rats back to their stations.

“You.” Getou came right up to you, excusing the maître d’ with a wave of his hand.

“Hello Chef.” Nodding quickly, you found yourself unable to hold eye contact with him.

“Do you know what a coupe colonel is?”

“I do?” Your brow furrowed for a moment.

“What do you think of it?”

“Personally?” Raising a brow, Getou gave you a slight nod of confirmation. “Not enough vodka for me.”

“I won’t have you make it either then; I want my guests happy, not drunk from a little sorbet.” Getou cracked a smile, the only indication he had any emotion before his face settled back down. “I trust you know my name and I yours.”

“Yes Chef.” It was disappointing Getou didn’t say your name, it worried you that maybe he hadn’t remembered it all and that he called you here as a joke.

“Good. Follow me.” He walked through the kitchen with ease, glancing over line cooks shoulders and offering quick tips. “It’s good to see you got the uniform, a few more should be delivered to your new place of residence soon.” Coming to a stop in front of a freshly cleaned station, Getou pat the counterspace. “This will be for you when you’re ready.”

“Ready?” You’d already studied the menu and practiced making the dishes, even going back to previous restaurants Getou had been at and trying those as well.

“Yes. I need to make sure my choice wasn’t a mistake.” Getou pointed back to the front of the kitchen. “You will be with me, you’ll take notes and maybe take over as the aboyeur for a time.”

“Okay Chef.” Nodding, you felt your shoulders sag a little as your hopes dashed away. You’d been called here to be a sous chef and impress Getou, make him happy that he invited you to be here.

The rest of prep time was spent trailing Getou, getting to know all the other staff and where everything was. The pastry chef was quiet, looked tired and was so dedicated to his craft he was always the first person there. Under him was a baker, a young boy surprisingly passionate about bread making. And standing off to the side was the poor chef glacier who had gotten scolded in front of everyone.

Going through the restaurant, it was surprising to see how much space there was. A station for entremetiers, grillardin, a butcher and more. Seeing how many stations there were gave you peace in a way, there would be so many people to learn from and possibly make friends with.

“Everyone, front.” Getou announced, taking long strides to stand at the head of the long countertop at the front of the kitchen. A chorus of yes’s followed and it took less than a minute and a half for everyone to be lined up and looking at him.

“As you hopefully saw, we have someone new joining us today.” He gave a brief motion to you and your mouth opened to introduce yourself, but no chance came. “This is (Y/N). She will be my new sous chef in due time, but for now she will be calling orders with me.” No one spoke as he continued to speak about the dinner menu and what high brow guests to expect. Getou didn’t mince words, calling out certain stations that were not up to his par or praising some that were.

“Alright that’s it. Get out of my sight and get ready for tonight.”

“Yes Chef.” Everyone spoke in unison, their feet carrying them just a bit faster to their stations. Looking at the clock on the wall, there was only five minutes before service started. Getou was writing things down on a notepad, crossing lines out on a guest list and writing down food substitutions for a few stations.

“Three, two, one. It’s time.” Getou announced, clapping his hands loudly. Everything happened all at once: the sound of searing meat, sauce cooking in a pan, bottles of wine being uncorked and glasses already being run out to guests. Spotting your somewhat nervous expression, Getou nudged you. “Try to keep up, okay?”

“Chef.” Someone walked up, holding out a small dish of gazpacho.

“Delicious, add a touch more goat cheese and a dash of salt.”

“Yes Chef, thank you.” And away they were, going back into the fray.

“Monkfish filet for tables one and five. Table two has specifically ordered the lobster to be, in his words, ‘smothered in brown butter atop a smattering of potatoes and with a bottle of the finest cabernet sauvignon the sommelier has to offer’.”

“Red? Are you serious?” The sommelier, an older gentleman that you’d learned was named Guillaume, dramatically slumped over. “I have told him time and again- no, I will go out and show him.” Without another word, Guillaume left for the dining room with a bottle of white wine in hand.

“Don’t be too harsh!” Getou’s words trailed after him with a light laugh.

“Those two have history?”

“Yeah, it’s his son.” Laughing to himself, Getou flicked his chin over to the entremetier. “Go over there and help, it appears they’ve forgotten what a monkfish is.”

“Yes Chef.” Rushing over, you quickly introduced yourself before helping slice the fish and laying it in the pan, staying to ensure it cooked right. You dared not glance over your shoulder to see if Getou was watching you, if he was you wanted to impress him with your focus.

“Chef.” The plate was presented to Getou in just a few minutes, delivered directly from you. He looked over it while still calling out orders and quirked his head.

“Why are the vegetables like that?” Fishing a spoon from his apron, Getou gave you a glance. “I wrote it to be creamy, does this look creamy to you?” Analyzing the spoonful he held up, you thought they looked fine. Your lack of answer frustrated Getou and he ate it himself.

“Call the others over.” He said, voice low and face disparaging. Collecting the people in question, you stood before him. “Tell me why you think this is acceptable?” He’d taken a bite of the monkfish and spat it out almost immediately.

“We measured the internal temperature and did everything the exact same way as the trial run.” A line cook spoke up.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Giving you a pointed look, he asked again. “(Y/N). Why do you think this is acceptable? The texture of the fish is appalling, like chewing on a tire. And these vegetables are underdone to hell yet somehow you’ve managed to burn them and try to cover up the mess with the sauce.”

“My apologies Chef, I should have watched more closely.”

“Have you ever cooked monkfish?”

“Yes.”

“And did I not request you personally to come work here?”

“You did.” His words were cold, calculated. Humiliation started to waft over you, being scolded like this especially in front of the line cooks you’d helped.

“So then why have you decided to disappoint me on your first day here?” Shoving the spoon back in his apron, Getou scoffed at the plate, a silent demand for it be taken away. “Remake it immediately.”

The line cooks left hastily, not sparing you a glance lest they be scolded as well. You were left to stand there alone, head cast down and heart beating hard. The cacophony all around you deafened for a moment as you sank into the feelings swirling around you.

“Chef, do you think the beginning of dinner service is an appropriate time to sulk?” Getou quipped, snapping near your ear before barking out an order.

“Sorry Chef.” Your apology went unnoticed, Getou had already moved onto something else. Choking down the knot in your throat, you forced yourself to continue with service. Getou was right, you couldn’t let your feelings get the best of you so quickly.

“Hands!” You cried out ten minutes later as Getou went on a bathroom break. Dishes were leaving the kitchen quickly and you could faintly hear the chatter in the dining room with the sommeliers making lively chatter about their favorite picks for the night.

“Ice cream, please!” There was no way you would send out a subpar dish, especially not after what Getou had said earlier. It was presented before you by the same chef from earlier, their ego still bruised from the coupe colonel.

“I’ve been working on this for a bit, it’s a creamy chocolate and salted butter caramel atop a peanut ice cream.” Nodding along to their words, you took a bite. It was indeed all that they had explained and you smiled slightly.

“This is delicious, send it out.” Giving them a nod, you watched the chef walk away with a smile of their own.

“Delicious?” Getou’s voice sounded from behind you, his frame coming into your peripheral vision. “Let’s see if you’re correct.” Having a taste for himself, Getou’s face held no emotion. “Tasty, yes. Mind blowing? No. The guests will like it well enough though I suppose.” Taking his list back from you, Getou resumed control of the kitchen.

“Nice work everyone.” He announced when dinner was over. There wasn’t a hair out of place on his head and although there were a few stains on his jacket, Getou looked the same as when you walked in.

“Thank you Chef.” Responding in kind, everyone began to pack up, clean their stations or begin prep for the next day.

“(Y/N).” Getou grabbed the back of your jacket, stopping you from going to help.

“Yes?” By the tone in his voice you were sure his next words wouldn’t be particularly positive. Flicking his chin, he had you follow him out into the dining area where the servers were cleaning up. Leaning against a wall near the restrooms, he let his hair down and ran a hand through the dark strands.

“What do you think of your first day here? Is it everything you dreamt of, working for me?” Getou looked at you with a neutral face, as if he could wait all day for whatever answer you had to give him and he still wouldn’t like it.

“I…think it went well.” Taking a deep breath to study yourself, you noticed the way Getou glanced away for a few seconds.

“Well? If you would like to think that way you can.”

“What do you mean?”

“I expected more from you.” You knew you didn’t want to hear his answer, knew it would be something that would hurt your feelings, knew he was disappointed in you - and yet you still asked.

“I-I’m sorry but-” He silenced you with a raise of his calloused hand, a few burn marks and knife knicks on his palm.

“How could you let the monkfish possibly get to that state? You should have been more on top of the temperature and controlled it better. And the vegetables - were you playing around with me? Think you could get one over on me, maybe trick me? I know you can cook a better piece of fucking broccoli than that.”

“Chef, I swear that wasn’t my intention.”

“And that goddamn ice cream? Anyone with a functioning palate could tell the chocolate was much too rich and the ice cream was basically chunky peanut butter.”

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. I need you to be focused and actually taste the dishes, put some thought into them and consider for a moment that if you were paying this much to dine here, would you want to be served something as subpar as what you tried to send out tonight?”

“Y-you’re right.” Fighting back embarrassed tears was the only thing you could focus on now. You kept your eyes cast to the floor, hardly taking Getou into your peripheral at all.

“Go home.” Sensing your upset mood, Getou took a step back and motioned away.

“What?” This made you look up at him with wide, scared eyes. He couldn’t be firing you already, could he?

“Your shift is over. Go home, think about today and what you can do differently tomorrow. I expect you here a bit early, we’ll go over some basics.” Taking a step to leave, Getou stopped himself. “And grow a thicker skin, will you?” With those parting words, Getou left you all alone to lean against the wall and try to collect yourself.

Driving off into the night, you waited until you were a few good blocks away before letting out a wail. Pulling over and letting the tears fall down your face and into your lap, you let go of the emotions that had welled up. Getou had told you to grow a thicker skin and you would in due time but for now this was all you wanted to do.

Eventually your crying ran out and you made it home emotionally drained and hungry. Hardly having energy to take a shower, making proper food was the last thing on your mind and your hand landed on the first thing in the cupboard: a styrofoam cup of instant noodles. Setting the pot to boil, you answered a few text messages and tried to forget about the day. Eating the noodles in a haste, you collapsed into bed in a sorry huff, letting sleep take you quickly.

Was it as difficult for the other staff to return to Getou day after day? To be subjected to his painfully neutral face and demanding voice. It seemed the only people he could even feasibly stand were the pastry chef and the sommelier, but maybe that was because both of them were older and earned their respect from Getou long ago. The glacier chef had been fired and a new one was already in their place, making a perfect coupe colonel for Getou.

You fared no better than the others, what with adjusting to a new city and having to deal with a boss that wanted such a high degree of excellence from everyone you feared it would break you. He said he wanted better from you and every day you tried to do that for him but it wasn’t enough.

“This plating on the sea bream tartare, do it over.”

“Where’s the pear on this goat cheese tartellete? You can’t have seriously forgotten.”

“Nice try (Y/N) but this pasta is far past al dente.”

Every day it was something new, something that you missed and messed up on and needed to correct. This torment lasted a week and there seemed to be no reprieve, the only indication it was getting better was when he went down from scolding you three times to two times a shift. His word choices hadn’t gotten better but they had at least eased up.

“What’re you doing here?” Coming in through the back entrance Getou was surprised to see you tucked behind a corner of the kitchen, sitting at a small table peeling potatoes from a shipment received a day ago.

“I asked the prep cooks if I could do this for them.” Taking a brief pause, you looked behind you towards the rest of the kitchen. “I just…need a break, that’s all.” Keeping quiet, Getou nodded and said nothing more, walking further into the restaurant himself. Resuming your work in silence didn’t last long, your phone interrupting you with its incessant buzzing.

“Hello?” Putting the phone on speaker, you were confused as to why your parents would be calling you now when their timezone was a few hours behind yours.

“Sweetie, you’ll never guess what we have to tell you.” Your father started, a light buzz of people behind him.

“What is it?”

“We’re here!” Both your parents said in unison, your mother clapping her hands excitedly. “I know you said not to visit you just yet but this is such an amazing opportunity for you, we couldn’t bear the wait any longer!”

“I’ve hardly been gone three weeks.” Resting your head on the table, you let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know if tonight is a good night for you guys to come.” Or any night, really.

“Nonsense, we’ll be there right as dinner service starts! Besides, this was the only time we could manage to get a dang reservation!” Chuckling to himself, your father recounted the hassle it was to try and line everything up.

“We look forward to seeing you tonight.” Nearly breaking your neck from turning so fast, your jaw fell in shock at seeing Getou standing off to the side with his hair not tied or his jacket done up.

“Honey, is that who we think it is?” Your mother whispered excitedly.

“Y-yes, it is!” Your ears were burning, scalding even as Getou laughed behind his hand. You tried to rush and turn off speakerphone before she said anything damning but Getou beat you to it and picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Chef Getou at your service. Once again, I look forward to having you here tonight and I promise it will be a night you won’t forget.” Excited murmurs broke out between your parents while you looked on in shock.

“Th-thank you so much for this, Chef! And for hiring our daughter as well, she has always been a big fan of yours and-”

“Okay, love you both bye!” Now you were desperate to turn the phone off. Slamming it face down on the table, you thought about taking an eye out with the peeler. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Getou could hardly contain his amused look. “Are they allergic to anything?”

“Nothing.” Peeking out from the corner of your eye, you watched Getou take out a notebook from his back pocket.

“Perfect. Quail filet with fried duck liver, orange, sherry vinegar, dried fruits and a nut crumble. I wasn’t planning on pushing this out for another few weeks but two of the restaurant's arguably most important guests will be here tonight.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” You hadn’t the heart to say that your parents weren’t the most high brow when it came to their dining choices. This was the fanciest restaurant they would be in their whole life and no way would they know how to react to such an elaborate meal.

“Of course I do, they’re your parents after all. They’re spending time and money just to come and see you, see how well you’re doing and all your hard work. It’d be a disservice to them to give any less than my best.” Getou wasn’t one to give touches of reassurance to his staff but he broke the rule for you, giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “And it’s been too long since I’ve had parents to impress, I need to make sure I still got it.”

“Where are your parents?” Coming to a stand, you regretted it when Getou froze for a second.

“They passed away a long time ago when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” You wanted to return the touch on the shoulder that he’d just given you but you didn’t want to risk it and push him away by being too forward.

“Don’t be, they’re in the family plot back home and I made a name for myself just like I promised them I would. They’ve funded my entire career, from my first day of culinary school all the way to now.” Taking a sharp inhale and exhale through his nose, Getou clapped his hands and turned around. “Enough about that though, we have some prep to do.”

When you were this early to the kitchen, it showed how quiet it could be; with just as much chaos and yelling there could be a time where you could hear a pin drop and know exactly where it fell. Seasoning the liver and watching Getou cut the quail out of the corner of your eye felt serene, almost like you could fall asleep to the atmosphere.

Getous face held no expression but there was a noticeable relaxation to his brows and his shoulders were lower than they usually were. He himself looked content standing over the cutting board with a look in his eyes that said there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“So, what have you told your parents about this job?” Breaking the silence, the two of you made eye contact.

“I told them it’s going great.” Nodding to yourself, there were countless times you had told them parts of the truth about how your day went while fighting back tears of frustration, numerous days you had to splash your face with cold water and calm down before video calling them and lying through your teeth.

“Makes sense. You wouldn’t want to let them know how much of a piece of shit I am.” A bark of laughter came from Getous chest tinged with bitterness.

“No you- you’re not-”

“Yes I am, you don’t have to lie to me.” Drawing out a few of the words, Getou set down his knife and turned to you. “I know I’m strict and demanding and never have anything nice to say to anyone or about the food they make. I’ve made people cry, too many to count; and I know I’ve made you cry too.”

Setting your knife down as well, you worried your lip. What could you say to that? He was right, there were plenty of nights you went to sleep hoping that he wouldn’t show up the next day or that he would get an offer from a restaurant across the world. And he was more than right about making you cry.

“I…” Struggling to find the words, you stared at quail. “You’re right about it, all of it-” he cut you off with another bitter laugh, “but I can understand it?” Shrinking under his peculiar stare, you kept going. “You went to the best culinary schools in the world, trained under the best chefs and now you have a star - aiming for another one at that. All of that time, all of that effort, I can understand why you’re so…intense about everything.”

“Intense.” Getou repeated that word, a smirk on his face. “I guess that’s one way to put it, huh?”

“I guess.” Unsure of what else to say, you let silence fall over the kitchen again. As the minutes ticked by more people started to come in and the familiar noise of the kitchen was returning.

“(Y/N).” Done with his work, Getou took a step away and looked around, seeing the familiar faces of the staff and putting his hard exterior back on. “Thanks for being honest in such a…nice way.” Tilting his head and giving you a wink, Getou was gone and walking away with not only the quail but the liver too.

Your nerves were starting to get the better of you as dinner service started to approach. Your parents were coming with such high expectations of you and the restaurant, you didn’t dare want to let them down and make them think you had to come back home.

“(Y/N).” Getou spoke to you after nearly forty-five minutes of ignoring you, not looking your way or truly speaking to you. “When your parents get here, I want you to dine with them.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind being back here.”

“Have you yourself ever eaten at one of my restaurants?”

“No.”

“Then this is the perfect night to do so. I told the maître d’ to let your parents in early so they could see the place before it got all busy.” The sudden kindness from Getou was taking you back, knocking you off your feet and making you question if he’d taken something to change his mood.

“You’re being too kind.” Shaking your head lightly, you refused to believe such a thing.

“And Guillaume will pull out the best wine we have - they do like wine, don’t they?”

“I suppose.” Truth be told, you usually found a can of beer in your fathers hand and maybe a cocktail for your mother.

“Jeez, do you know anything?” Getou teased, laughing at your glare. Seeing the mask he had on slip away for a moment, allowing you to see that he did have feelings other than discontent for his fellow man, was nice. It made a gentle bloom spring from your chest and settle warmly into your mind.

“Miss (Y/N), it appears they’re here.” With a light tap to your shoulder, the maître d’ went to open the door of the restaurant.

“There she is!” Your parents entered in their best attire, holding a gift bag in the crook of her elbow. You rushed to them, hugging and exchanging elated hellos.

“What’s this?” Attempting to reach for the bag, your mother swatted your hand away and motioned to the man you’d just left behind you.

“Sshh, not for you.” She muttered quietly, watching Getou stride over with his hands behind his back.

“Ma’am.” Outstretching a hand, Getou shook your mothers gently and kissed the back of it. “Sir.” Turning to your father, he shook his hand as well before turning and motioning to the dining room. “Welcome to my humble establishment.”

“Thank you for having us!” Your mother jumped in, holding the gift bag out to Getou. “We brought you something for giving our daughter an opportunity here. It means the world to us; all of us.” She snuck a glance over to you, remembering clear as day when you got the invitation.

“What’s this?” Getou took it gingerly, also giving you a glance as if you had any idea what it was. “Oh.” Pulling the contents out of the bag, his brows rose high in surprise when it wasn’t the usual bottle of scotch he received but instead a candy bouquet, something he could find in the grocery store.

“Oh my god.” Slapping a hand over your mouth to stifle your loud gasp, you looked between the two of them in horror. How could she give Getou this of all things?

“(Y/N) loves these, we always get her one for her birthday and she eats them up within a day!” Giving your shoulder a nudge, your father patted Getou on the arm. “Maybe you’ll be more patient than her, hm?”

“I-I’m so sorry.” Your knees were on the edge of buckling.

“I…” Getou looked over the candy, some he hadn’t eaten in years. “I love this, thank you.” Your jaw dropped open at his admission and if you looked just right you could see a slight glisten to his eyes. “Here, I’ll have the maître d’ put this in my office and I’ll give you a tour.”

It all happened so quickly: Getou escorting your parents around - explaining the inspiration behind the design and construction of the restaurant - showing them his notebook and what he had planned for future menu items. He even opened the door to the kitchen and showed them inside, proudly stating that you stood right by his side and helped him call out orders.

The restaurant opened soon after and you were seated at the best table in the house with three glasses of wine poured after Guillaume and your parents had a lengthy and passionate discussion about the best vineyards and types of grapes. Starting with an iberico ham salad as an appetizer, you made pleasant conversation, noise that mixed in with the rest of the dining room.

“Here we are folks, the main course.” Getou of course had to be the one to present it to you all, nearly making the whole dining room turn and watch as it was laid out before you. “As promised, fileted quail served as a rouleau with fried duck liver, orange, sherry vinegar dried fruits and a nut crumble.”

“Oh my.” Staring in awe, your mother didn’t move an inch. Your father, ever eager, took his phone out and snapped multiple pictures, even telling you to smile as he got a quick few of you.

“Thank you Chef.” You were quick to fill in the silence seeing as your parents were too busy.

“Enjoy, please.” Giving you a grin, Getou slinked away to the kitchen.

“Honey, what part of this did you work on?” Done with his phone, your dad waved his fork at the plate.

“I helped with the liver and a few other things.”

“Well this looks much too fancy to eat but I wouldn’t want your hard work going to waste.” You hardly blinked, watching your parents take their first few bites of the food. Maybe it’d be too complicated for them or the flavors wouldn’t mix well in their mouths, or maybe they’d force themselves to stuff it down and then complain about it later.

“Dear, this is amazing.” Reaching across the table for your hand, your mother grasped it tightly. “We are so proud of you.”

The rest of the dinner went smoothly, words of adoration and appreciation never too far from your parents' mouths. They loved any and everything they set their eyes on, even gushing about the hand soap in the bathroom. Dessert was crème brûlée with peach ragout and lemon thyme ice cream, the patissier even bringing it out himself.

As dinner ended, Getou gave your parents one last goodbye, even indulging your father in taking a picture with all of you. Despite Getou saying there would be no rush, you promised to come back quickly after walking your parents out to the car they’d rented.

“I feel like we’ve said it a thousand times but truly, we are so proud of you (Y/N).” Both of them had tears in their eyes, a flair for the dramatics in both of them. Both of them launched into small speeches about watching you grow up and rooting for you every step of the way.

“Thank you guys, really.” Even your eyes had become a little misty and you had to cut them off or you’d be there all night. Bidding them a goodbye and vowing to let them into your apartment, you went back to the restaurant with your head held high.

Coming back to the kitchen, it was a surprise to see Getou not at his usual position. Looking around and not seeing his tall frame anywhere, you knew he must be in his office. Coming around a corner, there he was sitting in his chair, gnawing away at a chocolate bar.

“Caught me.” He didn’t try to hide it at all, letting his mouth be covered in the sweet stuff.

“I’m surprised to see you actually eating that.”

“What, you think I’d throw it away?”

“Yeah, actually.” You had a vision of him tossing the whole bouquet into the dumpster out back and laughing at your parents' stupidity.

“You think just ‘cause I have a star I can’t eat commercial candy?” Giving you a teasing petulant look, Getou pointed to a Twix bar with chocolate coated fingers. “I’ll have you know, this is my favorite candy in the world.” Letting a beat of silence go, he huffed and shook his head. “It’s not all black forest cherry tarts and lobster thermidors for me.”

“Of course, of course! My mistake!” Giggling under your breath, you held your hands up in mock surrender. “I wanted to come by and thank you for tonight, truly. My parents will definitely not be forgetting it.”

“You’re welcome.” He says it sincerely and you can tell in his eyes he wishes he could do the same for his. “It’s always a treat having family here.” The two of you shared a look, one tinged with slowly growing warmth and what felt like could be a friendship of sorts - or at least a more positive relationship in general, maybe one where he respected you in the kitchen like he did with Guillaume and the patissier.

“I should…go back and help. Make sure everything is good.” You said it slowly, not wanting to leave whatever this was but having a sense of duty to the kitchen. Getou nodded, offering you a quiet ‘see you soon’ before you walked away.

The next few days were surreal, almost like the past few weeks hadn’t happened. You and your parents got to look around the new city you were in, comparing all the food you ate to Getou’s. He also started treating you better, still tough and a little sharp tongued, but gentler. Instead of yelling at you, calling you a half-baked idiot or dumping a dish you’d been trying to perfect into the trash, he offered more advice. Telling you tips and tricks to help make a dish come out the same way every time, helping you sharpen your knives and letting you ask all the questions you wanted.

Not wanting to be accused of favoritism, Getou offered more advice to the chefs as well; though their number of questions came with a limit. He still yelled at someone nearly every shift but no longer was there someone crying in the walk-in that you had to maneuver around.

Walking into work two weeks later - long after your parents had gone back home and left you with a hundred and one things they wanted to do next time they visited - the atmosphere was back to when you had just arrived; heavy, tense, everyone terrified to even breathe too loudly.

“What’s going on?” You whispered to a prep cook. You’d gotten the message to come early with uniforms freshly pressed, just as everyone else had.

“We have a visitor. I saw him in the dining room.” They whispered back. Nodding wordlessly, you walked to your station, idly wiping it down as you waited for something to happen. Getou had finally allowed you to go to it a few days ago, saying you were ready to start your real work now.

“Everyone, front. Now.” Getou’s voice boomed much louder than usual and it made you jump, but you wasted no time in following the order. Lining up shoulder to shoulder, everyone peered at the man standing next to Getou with a tall white hat on. Getou owned one as well but he never wore it, claiming he didn’t want it to slip off his head and into someone's soup.

“Good evening. Thank you for coming early.” Getou started, his hands behind his back. “I’m not going to waste time, so let me introduce you to someone most of you probably know already: Nicolas Conraux.” A quick few claps sounded from most of the staff, only some of you not moving. “And for those that don’t,” Getou sent a look to you, “this is the man that trained me and got me to my first star.”

Your eyes widened upon hearing that; this man was responsible for Getou, for making him the way he is in the kitchen. The memories came back to you, of small times Getou opened up about his past working under a chef who pushed him so hard to be better than he was that it made Getou puke on one occasion. This man’s name would forever be attached to Getou and now here he was right in front of you.

“I hope my presence won’t disturb you too much, but I was eager to see how my protégé was doing. He also sent a few emails regarding some worries he had for getting a second star, so I want to help in any way I can.” A heavy French accent hung over his words forcing you to focus on them closely.

“But just because he’s offered his help doesn't mean you can all slack off or take it easy, not even for a second. Be more meticulous, more precise with what you’re doing. Think twice before sending a dish out and if any dish comes back…” Trailing off, Getou gave you all one of the scariest looks you’d ever seen. After a debrief of how the evening was to go, you broke off back to your stations.

This was the first time since you’d gotten here that you wished you weren’t at your station. It was in the direct line of sight of Getou and Nicolas, the latter of whom had his eyes set intently on you. Taking a deep breath, you ignored his gaze in favor of preparing for the evening.

Tonight should be easy, you mused to yourself; the menu was a familiar one brought back due to popular demand, Texel lamb shoulder with sweet potato and vegetable chips and a tenderloin as well with crispy oyster mushrooms. Getting to work on the lamb, you were able to ignore Nicolas until he went to watch someone else. Letting out a breath at his departure you weren’t able to relax long with Getou announcing dinner would be starting in five minutes.

Counting down the seconds as usual, once the clock struck it felt like a whole different atmosphere. The kitchen was a bit lively again, nowhere near the level of volume it usually was, but it wasn’t painfully quiet anymore either. You felt comfortable calling out to the others and walking around, tasting the harissa for the lamb and wincing at the strong flavor.

“Why are you doing that?” A familiar accent came into your ear and you couldn’t even turn your shoulder to look at Nicolas. He was almost leering at the way you plated the first order of lamb for the night.

“E-excuse me.” Taken aback by his sudden arrival as well as his closeness, you shuffled a few inches from him.

“Answer me.” He pressed, immediately filling the space again.

“This is how Getou and I planned it, we discussed it to-”

“It’s lacking.” Cutting you off sharply, Nicolas called Getou over. “What do you think?” Getou was caught in a hard spot now, looking between the two of you and the plate. You were doing exactly as the two of you had planned but now with Nicolas’ critical eye, Getou was starting to see things differently.

“Perhaps it is lacking.” He agreed, nodding and avoiding your surprised face. “How should we change it, (Y/N)?”

“Don’t ask her.” A brief roll of his eyes and a snap of his fingers and Nicolas was taking the plate from you and grabbing a new one. “She’s already got one idea in her head, she’ll just try to do it again.”

“Of course.” Getou had turned into a complete yes man in front of you. Both of you watched Nicolas replate the dish, adding only a few mild changes that you knew no one would notice.

“There, now it is perfect.” Letting you get a once over of it, Nicolas sent it out of the kitchen. “I hope you took note.” And then he walked away, going to lean over someone else's shoulder.

“What was that?” You hissed, finally catching Getous eye.

“He was right.” That was the only answer he gave you before Getou left you as well. Biting back an annoyed noise, you set to work on the next plate, trying to remember what Nicolas had just done.

By the middle of dinner you were ready to leave the kitchen. It felt like Nicolas took even more offense at the things you did than Getou did, finding a reason to come up to you at every step of your process and correct it. He even commented on the way you stirred a ladle for soup, saying that you would disrupt the flavor profile.

Getou was no help either; he either sat back and watched or actively participated, sometimes spewing a few harsh words your way. You thought you were done hearing him say you might cut it better as a window cleaner or him wondering aloud whether you really knew how to cook some simple carrots.

“(Y/N), this is awful.” You’d come up to the table with a plate of steak tartare appetizers. Spending a bit more time on it than you usually did just to make sure it was made to perfection, hearing those words and watching Nicolas spit it out into a napkin - it threatened to bring angry tears to your eyes.

“Please, you can’t be serious!” Getting fed up, you slapped a hand onto the metal table. “You’ve had nothing good to say about any of the dishes I’ve prepared!”

“That’s because they’re all shit.” Shrugging your words off like they were nothing, Nicolas pushed the plate back to you. “Try again, though I think with your skill level it might be too difficult.”

“Oh fuck you!” In your anger, you pushed the plate back and made it flip over. Getou made a surprised noise and was about to scold you when you turned to him. “And you! I thought things had changed with you, you weren’t going to be such an asshole anymore but I guess I was wrong.”

“(Y/N), stop it.” Getou squared his shoulders. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“But telling me I should see if the local morgue was hiring because that’s the only people that won’t get sick from my food? That’s appropriate?” All of the harsh comments and jabs that had been made at you this night came flooding to the forefront of your mind. You’d tried to ignore it, push it deep down and deal with it when you got home, but that was no use. Hot, angry tears burned at your lash line begging to be set free.

“You want to know why I say those things?” Now Getou was at the same level of emotion as you, his face getting flush. “Because I want you gone.” That was what did it, that is what made the first tear fall. “It was a mistake to fucking invite you here when all you’ve done is cost me time and money. I should have left you in that insignificant little restaurant back in your insignificant little hometown. You’d do better work scrubbing the grease traps there.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You couldn’t be bothered to wipe at the tears now free falling, couldn’t be bothered to care about who saw what now. Ripping off your white jacket and flinging it onto the counter, you turned away from Getou and all but ran off. Quickly grabbing your things, you didn’t spare a single glance back as you left through the backdoor and raced to your car.

Speeding off before anyone could try and follow you, you first stopped at a park to cry. It was cold without your chef's jacket on, it made you feel bare to the world. Now anyone could see that you, in fact, could not cut it working under Getou. That you failed, weren’t good enough and weren’t strong enough to push through.

An unknown number called you and you let it go to voicemail. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d answer the phone now, not when your eyes were puffy, nose stuffed up and voice hoarse from crying. Even a slight headache started to develop, one which forced you to now drive home.

Dragging your feet and kicking the door closed, you slumped against it and slid down to the floor. Letting your knife case fall to the wayside, you dug your phone out and finally listened to the voicemail.

H-hey…it’s me, Getou. Just the sound of his voice made you roll your eyes.

Things got really heated just now and I want to- fuck, uhm - I want to apologize. I’m your boss I shouldn’t be saying those things to you and- and especially not to someone I’ve come to care about. I want to apologize in person, (Y/N), I really do, you deserve that much at least.

“What if I don’t want to?” You mumbled to yourself, but Getou quickly answered.

I understand if you don’t want to, if you’d rather never see me again for the rest of your life…that’s completely fine. Just let one of the other chefs know and I’ll make sure your final check is posted as soon as possible.

It had gone eerily quiet in the voicemail making you check to see if he’d forgotten to end the call.

Just please…call me, okay? Even if it’s just to curse at me.

Only after those words did the voicemail finally stop, the true silence of your apartment taking over. Your fingers hovered over the delete button, wanting nothing more than to be done with Getou and his ever changing attitude. But you couldn’t find it in you and instead shoved your phone in your pocket and got up, changing out of your uniform and into comfier clothes.

A few hours later, after decompressing and having a meal where no one could judge your plating, your mood was lifting. More tears had fallen during that time and the struggling realization that you’d have to tell your parents sooner or later was in the back of your mind. But for now, you decided to slip on some shoes and head out to treat yourself to a sweet treat.

Walking down the block, you looked at the time. Dinner service had been over for almost forty-five minutes and a couple other chefs messaged you, telling you they’d miss you badly if you decided to never return. Worrying your lip, you wondered if you would ever return, if maybe you could find it in you to push away Getou’s disrespectful words and make him beg for forgiveness.

Coming to an ice cream shop, your hand bumped into someone else's as you reached for the door handle. A quick sorry died on your tongue upon seeing who it was, his long hair and dark circles unmistakable. He was dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, a stark contrast to the bright white jacket he usually sported.

“After you.” Getou mumbled, opening the door. Standing still for just a moment, you took the opportunity and stepped in.

“Following me?” You couldn’t help but ask, standing in line with him beside you. He didn’t say anything, opting to read the menu instead. It was unclear whether that made you more mad or it helped that he was giving you space.

“What flavor are you getting?” He replied instead, glancing tentatively at you.

“Probably cookie dough.” Whispering back, you went through the line, fishing out your wallet when it was time to pay.

“She’s with me.” Getou told the cashier, already sliding some cash across the counter. Rolling your eyes, you took a step back; if he wanted to spend money on you in hopes of winning you back, so be it.

“I don’t know if I’m coming back.” The two of you had decided to take a walk, with you knowing he wouldn’t leave you alone otherwise. These were the first words you’d said to him since starting the idle stroll.

“I-I understand.” You didn’t miss the sudden falter in his steps. Sighing heavily, Getou took a bite out of his ice cream and once again you saw with him chocolate smeared across his face. “I would do the same too if I were you.”

“Why are you such a fucking jerk?” Stopping at a crosswalk, you turned to look at him. Under the light of a street lamp and the setting sun, you could almost mistake him as looking rather handsome.

“I don’t mean to be.” He tried to take a step forward but you refused to move.

“Really? Because everything you say seems rather intentional.” The grip you had on your ice cream cone threatened to break it into pieces.

“I know.” Hanging his head low in shame, Getou faced you properly. “I’m the last person anyone would want to work with in the kitchen, even for just a day. Hell, I don’t really have a lot of friends outside the kitchen either. I can hardly hold a conversation if it’s not about food, I glare at everyone so hard I already have premature wrinkles. And probably worst of all, I make pretty girls cry.” As the last words left his mouth Getou looked up at you through his lashes, a grimace across his face.

The urge to slap in the face made you flex your fingers. How dare he send you such a pitiful look when he had looked upon you with utter disgust just a few hours ago? He called you pretty and as much as it made you want to grin, it also felt like he was trying to compliment you to get out of this situation.

“If you think I’m so pretty then why do you do it?” You mumbled, leaving him to cross the road. Getou’s footsteps were behind you, a few feet away as he mulled over your words. He didn’t fully catch up with you until you made it to the edge of a park, a small green space that was starting to empty out.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Rolling your eyes heavily, you pushed forward.

“Yes, okay?!” Getou’s irritation grew in a flash, making him grab your arm. The motion flung your ice cream out of your hand and he threw his down in tandem. “What am I supposed to say? You want me to admit the reason I told you I wanted you gone is because I realized I had fallen for you?” His face became awash with a red blush both from anger at himself and embarrassment.

“That- that your stupid, pretty little face and the way you smile and the way you laugh with the other chefs made me jealous? I want you to laugh and smile that way with me but all I can manage to do is humiliate and degrade you, make you feel like shit whenever we’re together!”

“And your food is fucking amazing, by the way.” Running a rough hand through his hair, Getou groaned. “I loved it, still do. You’re so talented it hurts me.”

“Why lie to me like that?” The grip he had on your arm was loosening but you could still feel his racing pulse.

“Because if I told you it was bad then maybe you’d come to me for help. Maybe you’d talk to me more and I could impress you with what I knew and then maybe…maybe it would lead to something else.” Fully dropping your arm in defeat, Getou slapped a hand over his face and leaned his head up to the sky. “Maybe I could find out what it feels like to hold your hand, to have you smile at me so brightly and tell me I’m doing a good job and I’m more than just some good chef that’s a grade A asshole.”

A heavy silence hung between you, the weight of all of Getou’s words weighing down the air around you. It felt difficult to breathe but somehow, you managed.

“Amazing.” You whispered, making Getou crack an eye open to look at you.

“Huh?”

“You’re an amazing chef.” Dropping his head back down, Getou stared at you with mild confusion on his face. “You have a Michelin star and an incredible eye for detail and flavor. Don’t get me wrong, you’re absolutely awful to be around and sometimes your presence makes me want to-”

“Okay.” He interjected, a tiny grin on his face betraying him. “I get it, I’m awful.”

“And I would love to learn from you.”

“Seriously?” Raising his brows in shock, Getou was surprised you would even acknowledge that part of what he said.

“Yes.” Your face portrayed no lie, no intention of changing your mind just to hurt him. “You think I’d want to pass up on an opportunity like that from someone I’ve admired for so long?”

Getou swallowed thickly. He had an inkling that you were a fan, from your parents words and from how you were around him, but you finally said it out loud. And maybe admiration could be something more. It made his heart swell hopefully, stupidly. He couldn’t even think of trying to stamp it down.

“When would you like to learn?” He spoke slowly, words coming out carefully as his eyes watched your face, his dumb little heart deflating a bit at the sudden downturn of your lips.

“I don’t know.” Rubbing the back of your neck, you shifted awkwardly on your feet. There was a bench behind you and you motioned for Getou to sit down. “I don’t know if it’d be a good idea for me to come back.”

“Wh- no it is, it is.” Gripping the back of the bench, Getou turned to you with his mouth hanging slightly. “It’ll be better, I swear. I’ll be better.”

“But how long will that last? Until you get mad again and snap at me?” You itched to play with the fraying patch of fabric on his sweats, to give your hands something to do other than twist and turn within themselves.

“I won’t, never again.”

“How long will Nicolas be at the restaurant?” Raising a brow at Getou, you watched his mind work. He was uptight on a good day and with Nicolas’ presence it only made it worse. The strict, military-like regime he had only became tighter and it choked the life out of you.

“A week.” Getou hung his head in shame, knowing he wouldn’t see you again any time soon. “But (Y/N), I swear on my life. Every fiber of my being. I won’t let him talk to you like that anymore; I don’t care if he’s my mentor or not.”

Contemplating Getou’s words, you weighed your options in your head. You had faith that Getou could change his ways, but so suddenly? And with the pressure of Nicolas behind him? Any hope of him being even slightly different during this week was dashed out of your mind. But looking up at him, his worry written all over his face and in the way he chewed his lip, it sparked something in you.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” Your quiet utterance of the words had Getou leaning back dramatically with the weight of the world off his shoulders. He made a noise from his chest, something akin to a groan and a holler. Taking a few breaths, he sat up and looked at you.

“Yes, please do.” It was then that you noticed, as a breeze rushed past, that it had gotten quite late out. The sky was considerably darker and you could just barely make out some stars between the glaring lights of street lamps.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Getou was sliding off the bench and nudging you to stand as well. Walking at a slower pace with him at your side, you took a few turns and made it back to your apartment with no trouble.

“Home sweet home.” You motioned to the building, gradually coming to a stop.

“It’s funny how close we live to each other.” Getou mused, hooking his thumb behind him. “I’m 3 blocks down and to the right.”

“Well neighbor, have a good night.” Feeling emboldened by the cover of darkness, you reach out and pat Getou’s shoulder, letting your hand linger for a moment before sliding off.

“Good night.” Giving you a small wave, Getou waited until you were safely in your apartment before turning and leaving himself.

4:45pm. The clock's large red numbers stared back at Getou. He was waiting not so patiently at the door for your arrival. He knew you came in at about 4:30 and after the conversation the two of you had had last night he hoped you’d be a bit earlier than that.

“Chef!” Someone called for him and Getou’s legs twitched instinctively to go help, but he remained in his spot.

“Chef!” They called again and Getou groaned. 4:46pm, the clock stared back at him. He didn’t want to move, not even a centimeter. But there were more pressing matters to attend to than waiting for you like a puppy.

“Coming!” He yelled back and drug his feet away. He was a fool to expect you to come back so soon after what happened, and although you said you’d think about it, it wasn’t a definitive yes to coming back.

For the next 15 minutes Getou tried to sneak looks at the door whenever he could, hoping and praying you’d waltz right in. He had dry cleaned your jacket that you’d thrown off, the stain from the steak tartare now a memory and no longer glaring right at him.

“Everyone, to the front.” Getou announced like he usually did, fingers wrapped around the metal table in a white knuckle grip. Everyone was standing at attention in no time, everyone but you. “As a reminder for service tonight…” He started, face a little sullen from your lack of appearance. So wrapped up in his own head he was that Getou didn’t notice the sound of the back door opening and closing or the way you snuck in behind everyone.

“And that’s all. Let’s do good tonight.” As everyone dispersed and Getou went about checking his lists, one person remained at the periphery of his vision. “Come here, do you have a question about the menu?”

“I do.” The sound of your voice made his head snap up and a fervent smile fought its way onto his face. Nicolas was off to the side reading something from a list of his own, not wholly paying attention to either of you.

“You came.” Getous mouth hung open slightly. There you were before him looking as eager as the day you’d first stepped foot in the kitchen. He remembered that day so clearly and how he wished he could have made a better impression on you instead of yelling about a coupe colonel.

“I did.” Smoothing down the front of your jacket, you caught his eyes. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not.” Shaking his head, Getou tried to look away from you but he couldn’t. His fingers flexed if only to try and disguise the slight tremble to them.

“Well, service has started.” Inching closer to him, you tried to ignore the slight burn in your cheeks as he continued to stare. “Can I look at the list? I need to make sure we have enough oyster mushrooms for that appetizer.” Your fingers wrapped around his and deftly unwound them from the piece of paper he’d been clenching onto. The action pulled him out of his stupor, enough so that he finally noticed the few line cooks waiting off to the side.

“I-I’ll be right there.” Clearing his throat and giving them a glance, Getou turned to you. “Glad to have you here, (Y/N).”

“Glad to be here.”

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto fluff #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[sardonic-the-writer]

CHUCKLE SANDWICH HEADCANONS ☆

• Being on the podcast for the first time is—an experience that's for sure

• Charlie Schlatt and Ted had all reached out to you before for collabs of certain kinds, so you knew them fairly well through the experiences (ie. minecraft videos, to be a beta tester for big projects of theirs, asking help with new editing software even if you were as clueless as them, etc etc.)

• But they'd never once mentioned bringing you on Chuckle Sandwich. Which you were fine with. It's not like they had time to bring everyone on the internet to it at some point, so for now you were content sitting at your computer listening to the new episodes while they dropped

• In fact, that's exactly what you had been doing when a little discord notification popped up on your computer, clicking on Ted's profile picture after pausing the video

• "hey. a bit last moment, but we have a spot open for the podcast right now and wanted to know if you'd like to be a guest"

• Attatched to the bottom of the message was a random meme you had seen him, and multiple others, send dozens of times before. But it still coaxed a snort out of you as you typed your answer back

• "yeah! no problem, mr. milk. just give me some of the details and I'll be all set. also, get some new memes loser"

• Four days later and you were sitting at your streaming set up with your hands behind your head, smiling lightly as they introduced you to the audio listeners. Who by now Ted had made clear he loved to death

• "So! First things first, gentlemen, any questions for our esteemed special guest?"

• "What's the weirdest thing you've shoved up your ass."

• "Alright, that's enough talky time for you, Schlatt."

• Honestly, the podcast went great. You often highjacked the conversation to go on a separate tangent without even realizing it, snapping your fingers with a "Hey! That reminds me of—" before continuing on

• Charlie especially had a great time. For once he wasn't the only one that uncontrollably giggled throught the entire—and I mean entire—games no games or bacon no bacon question

• I picture Ted trying desperately to keep the episode a salvageable one, trying to have at least one decipherable conversation to keep in the final cut before giving up when you Schlatt and Charlie started arguing about which gum flavor was the best

• "It's fucking cinnamon you neanderthal! You fucking pussies dont know how to handle a real mans stick of gum!"

• "First of all, the h in neanderthal is silent, Schlarengitus. If you're going to insult me do it right. And secondly, any answer other than mint is a pure crime."

• "Guys, guys, I think we can all agree that grape is the best flavor. Also, (Y/n), what in the actually goopy shloopy fuck did you just call Schlatt?"

• After most of the episode had been filmed, everyone was in agreement that this needed to be done again. If not for the views, then for the shit ton of fun you all had

• "Hey who knows? Maybe we can do a vlog in real life together and have a beat (Y/n)'s ass for liking the most basic bitch flavor of gum there is."

• "Say that to my face you little—"

• Yup. Good times

#chuckle sandwich x y/n #chuckle sandwich imagine #chuckle sandwich headcanons #chuckle sandwich x reader #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sandwich x you #ted nivison x you #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison #schlatt #jschlatt #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt x reader #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x y/n #charlie slimecicle x you #charlie slimecicle x reader

[frvnkcastles]

HARD PILL TO SWALLOW ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank asks you out on a date and it doesn’t go exactly as he planned.

Warnings: Feminine nicknames, implied PTSD, self-loathing (from both reader and Frank), hurt/comfort, some language

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: My self-esteem is nonexistent and PTSD definitely doesn’t make it easier but I feel like Frank would accept me as I am and that thought keeps me going a lot. Also, I’m trying to work on some requests that I’ve received, please be patient!! <3

Frank Castle was not a desperate man. He definitely wasn’t a man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Maybe, he’d admit, he could be a bit stubborn when he was in the mood, but he absolutely refused to be the guy who got rejected and couldn’t get over it. He hated those kinds of assholes — so why was it so hard for him to accept you had rejected him now?

He could have sworn you were into him. Shit, he was hardly made of confidence and self-assurance, but for a moment there, he had thought he had had it. Maybe that was on him for taking you for granted, thinking it was going to be an obvious yes.

Still, he had been nervous when he had approached you with the idea. He usually didn’t hesitate to dive head-first into risky situations, but when it came to you, he found himself with trembling hands and a lump in his throat. Although you were shy, you had had a flirty little something going on for a while now, and that had certainly boosted his ego — if you, the usually anxious type, leaned into his cheeky lines, then he had cracked some kind of code.

He couldn’t stop thinking it over. He had shown up outside the school you worked at, surely scaring all of the kids there with his menacing truck and tall and dark appearance. Suddenly, even the wildest children under your care behaved like little angels, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you headed outside and realized what had the kids rushing off of the school premises. There he was, wrapped in all black, a plethora of bruises painted across his features like artwork, and a crooked grin appearing on his face when he spotted you coming his way.

”Frank”, you greeted him with a nod, adjusting the strap of your bag while shuffling your feet in their place. You never really knew how to act around him, something about him made your head spin without fail. ”What are you doing here?” you continued sheepishly, looking around only to find curious moms eyeing you and your guest up and down. The idea of you together only deepened the red coloring your cheeks, wondering what kind of a duo you were to outside lookers.

”I, uh, thought I could maybe pick ya up”, he shrugged — Jesus, Castle, that was the worst way anyone had ever been asked out on a date.

It was obvious on your face, too. ”Pick—pick me up?” you stammered, a nervous laugh escaping your mouth as you readjusted your backpack.

”Lemme rephrase that”, he cleared his throat, ”I wanted to, uh, ask you out. On a date, that is. Was thinkin’ we could get some lunch, y’know? You gotta be hungry after a whole day of takin’ care of these maniacs.”

It was right there and then that he saw your smile falter and the light go out in your eyes. Fuck, it made his stomach drop.

”They do let me eat here, you know”, you chuckled before reaching up to swipe your hair away from your face. ”I’m… I’m flattered, Frank, I am. But I just don’t, um, I don’t think that’s such a good idea”, the hesitation was obvious in your voice, and a little piece of you broke when you saw Frank suck in a breath and duck his head in a shy nod.

”Aight, that’s… Yeah, yeah, no worries, sweetheart”, he reassured while scratching the back of his neck, but there was no denying that the air between you grew tense and awkward, even more so when he continued. ”Lemme give you a ride home, huh?” he suggested, and only landing another blow to his confidence, you pursed your lips in an apologetic smile and took a step away.

”I’ll walk, it’s okay. I’m—I’m sorry”, you struggled, and afraid to find out what his reaction would be, you looked away and headed in the other direction. You didn’t doubt he would have still managed to be sweet, and angry at yourself now, you fought back tears while hastily making your way home.

All Frank could do was stare after you and chew on his lip in thought. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised — it wasn’t like he was a catch, anyway. He had more baggage than most people combined, and the cons to going out with him probably outweighed the pros, there was no denying. He wanted to be proud that he had taken a chance, but as he dragged himself back behind the wheel, all he could think was that he had fucked up a good thing for good.

And so, while he may not have been desperate, he was determined to try and fix things. That was what led him to your doorstep, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand and his best puppy eyes on display — not that he was trying to get your pity, but he genuinely wanted to mend the gap he had driven between you two.

You answered the door quickly after his knock, and he didn’t miss the surprised and maybe even scared look that crossed your face before you managed a smile at him.

”Hey, sweetheart. I wanted to apologize… for being a presumptous asshole, I’spose. I shouldn’t have sprung that shit on you like that”, Frank tried to explain while handing over the flowers, but you scoffed and shook your head at him in complete disagreement.

”Frank, you don’t have to be—”, you began, but he cut you off.

”Nah, hey, I get it. Fuck, I get it, girl. It’s probably dangerous and a lotta work to try and make it work with me, y’know, I just figured… you were worth it”, he chuckled, and you couldn’t help but throw your hands onto your face out of sheer frustration — none of it directed at him, but rather, purely at yourself.

”I didn’t say no because of you, Frank”, you interjected, your hands in the air as you boldly locked eyes with him. ”I accept all of you. Just the way you are. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, I—I really… really care about you, okay?” you insisted, and stunned into silence, Frank gazed at you with soft eyes.

”Then what’s the issue here, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, and with your bottom lip wobbling, you hesitated.

”It’s me”, you whispered, your voice so weak under the weight of your words, you could barely get the words out.

Frank’s eyebrows glued together. ”Whaddya mean? Is it… is it work? Or..?” he asked, sincerely confused, and it only made it harder for you to explain without crying.

”No… No, Frank, it’s—it’s who I am. It’s who this… this stupid fucking disorder makes me. I’m not easy to love. I think—I think it takes a lot of effort to be around me, actually. You haven’t seen me at my worst and I don’t think you’d stick around if you did”, you tried to explain, tears streaming down your face despite your frantic efforts to wipe them away.

Silence enveloped the room in its grasp and your soft sniffles were the only sound to shatter it. You couldn’t help but feel like this already would be enough to scare Frank away; make him realize you were more trouble than you were worth, and you had never been more terrified.

But Frank… he stepped over to you and gently took a hold of your jaw, lifting your head up so he could look into your eyes. ”Sweet girl…”, he murmured, leaning his forehead down to yours. ”Even at your worst, I’d find you the fuckin’ best. Goddamn incredible, ya hear me? Ain’t nothin’ that would push me away, I promise”, he swore, ”you’ve dealt with so much of my bullshit… and you still don’t think you deserve to be cared for, too?”

A sob broke free from your chest, and Frank shushed you gently. ”To be honest with you, I ain’t lookin to just eat lunch together. You have my fuckin’ heart, baby. I want all o’you”, he went on, and a sincere smile stretched your mouth as you shut your eyes and nodded.

”I feel the same way, Frank”, you whispered, and breaking into a smile of his own, he licked his lips.

”Then… it okay with ya if I kiss you now, sweetheart?” he muttered, and with a quiet laugh bubbling out of you, you nodded rapidly.

And somehow, as his lips connected with yours for the first time, it felt like maybe it would work out for the best.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

[mommieswithmuscles]

Photographer!Abby x Scrapbooker!Reader

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No minors and No men

CW: fluff, angst, no smut but it has a suggestive scene, insecure!reader, mention of suicidal tendencies

Based on this song:

Title: No Flash Photography

You're at the dinner table, going through photos Abby had printed out. She reprinted everything so you could have a copy to put in the ever growing scrapbook you have yet to properly bind.

Each bin she gave you had a title so you could organize better. Nature, gatherings, events, us, and polaroids. You start with the one called nature.

You trim the edges with scissors before securing them in the special photo paper with bug stickers. The dual page is a collage of your trip to a national park. It's mostly shrubbery, plants, trees, and water, but there are some animals and insects sprinkled in.

You turn the page and make another collage out of the open space, both sides decorated with a yarn trim. Gatherings weren't really your thing, but Abby liked them, and you obviously like Abby, so you go to each one. You admire how she always brings her big camera.

The next collage is your brother's wedding. Him and his partner are dressed accordingly. You wore basic attire, Abby wore a plain suit. "When are you both getting married?" He had asked after Abby's camera shot the photo.

"Eventually," Abby answered for you both. You nodded in agreement. You knew you underdressed to match the other guests, but you couldn't help but feel you're taking away from the newlyweds. Abby caught onto your dismissive behavior and took you home early.

Shaking your head to clear out the memory, you continue to dig through the bin and retrieve more pictures. A few birthday parties, a couple engagement parties, some random game nights. You secure them with glitter glue, putting more of the colorful yarn around the trims like LEDs.

Pictures of you always have to have Abby. Otherwise you want nothing to do with them and tend to throw them away. Abby's trying to help you with your insecurity, but for some reason you can't work past it. You sigh, pulling out ones you convince yourself you like. Mostly dates, but a few random ones from trips catch your attention, so you add them. The pictures are secured with affirmation stickers that Abby bought you a few months back, when you first started scrapbooking.

The bin you were most nervous for was polaroids. You know they're mostly you, and you know they make Abby happy, but... you get upset every time you look at pictures of yourself.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Abby sits next to you, done with her work for the week. She came out of her office as soon as she was able to. Her hand cups your cheek, thumb ready to swipe away the unshed tears.

"I can't do it. I fucking- I can't, Abby. It's too hard." You kick the bin.

"Why don't I help you?" She presses her lips to your forehead. "We can start with holidays. Would that work?"

"Do it yourself," you bite.

"Don't start that. I know you're upset. I know these make you upset-"

"So why do you make me look at them? I told you that you could keep them, and now-" you gesture to the bin. "We don't need to share everything, especially not these."

"I make you look at them because I'm trying to show you what I see." She's patient. Too patient. Maybe if she could ever be mad at you, or fight with you instead of talk things out, maybe it would hurt less.

The thoughts start to spiral before you can stop them. All of the self worth and self esteem you had built towards crumbling in seconds. And there's Abby, taking care of you because you can't handle something as stupid as putting pictures in a book. Maybe you were better off-

"Eyes on me baby," her voice is gentle. Her hands guide you to face her, thumbs taking away the tears trailing down your cheeks. "That's my girl," she whispers. "You're so kind, and beautiful, and I love you more than anything. I'm glad you came into my life because you're the compass to my map. I wouldn't have it any other way. I've never been more happy than when I've been with you. I married you because you're my person. You're the moon to my stars, the sun for my flowers, and every breath I take with you fills my lungs with fresh air. I know you're in a darker place. And that's ok. We can work you through it step by step." She pulls you into her lap, rubbing your back as you bury yourself in her neck. You can smell your perfume on her. "You're safe, you're loved, you're home." Abby kisses your temple.

After you calm down, Abby lets you go. "Thank you," you sniffle, getting up to grab some tissues.

"Anything for you, my love." You get back to see Abby gluing small, flat, silver tack backs on the polaroids to secure them on the page. It looks like a cork board. Some of the photos are strung on yarn, some singles floating about, and one standing out the most. It's one of you genuinely smiling, tugging Abby along as you make your way to your destination.

"Come on, it's this way!" You had said, nearly dragging Abby through the mud. She's laughing behind you, scooping you up and kissing you once you got to the surprise spot at the creek. She kept her hands under your thighs when your legs wrapped around her waist.

"This view is almost as stunning as you are," Abby said as she put you down.

"Oh hush," you pushed her away lightly. "Ass-kisser."

"No, no, you don't know," she shook her head, voice mocking. She laid with you in the short grass, dirt dry under your backs. You initiated the contact, but she kissed you first, hands traveled along your body until you were gasping for air and begging for her.

"Baby? Where'd you go just now?" Abby's fingers tickle at your jaw as she cups your face.

"Here," you point at the picture you got lost in.

"I'm going to start dinner. Today seems like it was hard for you, and you could use some time away from the pictures for now. You- or we- can start back up soon, ok?"

"Ok," you agree easily. She's right. It's better to take a break, than let something be ruined.

#Spotify #no men allowed #no minors allowed #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby the last of us 2 #abby x reader #fluff #angst #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

[ragingbookdragon]

She drummed her fingers against the teacup, watching as her brother disappeared into his bedroom, the door shutting behind him. Her heart sank for her dearest brother, and she drew her gaze to the disappointed stares of the dwarves at the table and she looked at Thorin. “I’m so sorry for Bilbo’s answer, Thorin. I was sure he would take a leap of faith at such a chance.”

Thorin merely sighed deeply. “It matters not, we will do without.” With a glance to the others, he said, “We will leave before dawn’s first light.” Turning back to her, he asked, “Might we settle in for the evening?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” she answered, hurrying to rise and show everyone to couches and chairs. She led Thorin to the guest room and showed him in. “The bed is here, extra blankets in the cupboard. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?”

“Nothing, thank you,” he replied curtly and turned his back on her, starting to unfasten his armor. Her cheeks flushed and she quickly averted her gaze, but stayed, feet shifting nervously in the carpet; Thorin looked over his shoulder with an expression of irritation. “Is there something you need, Miss Baggins? I would very much like to rest before starting my journey.”

“Yes, I—I know.” She swallowed thickly and bowed her head slightly. “I know I’m not the one that Gandalf wanted for the company…but if it’s all the same, I’d be honored to accompany you to take back Erebor.”

Thorin blinked and turned to face her. “You?”

She had half a mind to be offended by his doubt. “Yes? Is that a problem?”

“Can you even fight?”

She cocked a hand on her hip and retorted, “I’m fairly handy with a frying pan, if I do say so myself,” she nodded firmly. “You should’ve seen me when the badgers began digging through the side of the home last summer.” Thorin chuckled lowly in his throat, and she smiled. “Thorin, I know you’ve no reason to trust nor even believe that I would be of any worth, but if there is a chance that I can be, I ask that you give me it and let me prove myself to you.”

He gazed at her. “Is this truly what you wish? To travel with a bunch of men? You know you’d be the only woman with us.”

“All the same, I wish to partake in this adventure.” She stuck out her hand. “Thorin Oakenshield, I formally request to join your company.”

He grasped her hand in a gentle but firm grip and shook it. “Miss Baggins, I accept your request. Welcome to the company.”

Her face erupted in excitement, and she hurriedly pulled back with, “I’m going to pack right now!” as she rushed for the door, she turned back around ran back and hugged him tightly adding, “Thank you so much, Thorin. I won’t let you down, I swear it!”

***

“I’m so sorry to bother you with having to ride with me, Thorin,” she said bashfully. “I don’t think the pony liked me very much.”

He had to hide the smirk at remembering how she’d practically wailed bloody murder when the pony became skittish and took off with her. “It’s fine,” he gruffly stated.

She looked down and cleared her throat, trying to ignore the warmth from his back bleeding into her. “Might we play a round of questions to ease the silence? I can’t imagine it would be very fun to ride in total silence.”

“If we must,” he replied as if annoyed, and perhaps on some level he was, but she did have a point that complete silence was sometimes tiring.

“Perfect! Since you are the esteemed company, you go first!”

He thought a moment. “What is a skill you’ve always wished to master?”

“Oh…I would say sewing. My mother could sew like no one I’ve ever seen.” She smiled fondly. “I can sew well but nothing compared to the clothes she could mend and make. My turn! When was a time in your life that you felt truly happy?”

“I was ten years of age. I had just received my first real sword. My grandfather had made it for me. Silver blade, sapphires in the hilt.” He frowned. “What qualities do you believe makes a person good?”

She paused. “Well, that is a tough one, especially if you believe that people have inherent evil.”

“Do you?”

“Of course not! I personally think that everyone is capable of good, no matter how bad a life they have lived.”

“A bit naïve don’t you think, Miss Baggins?”

“Perhaps. But if you go around distrusting everything that breathes, you’ll never be able to trust anything when it comes to truly needing it.” She inhaled. “Honor, loyalty, kindness, selflessness, love. Those make a person good. Someone who would put the needs of others above themself and go above and beyond for those they loved. Even if it meant they would be left behind.”

“Now that is truly naïve.”

“I know,” she said with a smile and before she could even open her mouth again, they heard,

“WAIT!”

Thorin pulled the reins, and everyone turned to see Bilbo running over.

“WAIT!” Bilbo called again and her face lit up.

“Brother!” she greeted as he came to a stop.

Bilbo panted heavily. “I signed it!” he handed it off to Balin who looked it over and smiled.

“Everything appears to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and started to turn his own steed around. “Give him a pony.”

“Oh no-no-no!” Bilbo immediately said. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. I-I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, y’know? Even got as far Frogmorton once—WUGH!”

She giggled when Fili and Kili hefted him up by his pack and buried her face in Thorin’s back to muffle her laughter; when she felt Thorin’s back rumble with his own chuckle, she couldn’t help snort even harder.

#thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader imagines #thorin oakenshield imagines #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin #thorin x reader imagine #thorin x reader imagines #thorin x reader #thorin imagines #thorin imagine #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #gandalf the grey #gandalf #balin #fili #kili

[heavenlycloud]

vintage chanel: jennie x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive, swearing

a/n: i was gonna post this the night of the event but school and time got away from me so here it is a few days late. there might be some typos.... sorry

the met gala wasn’t a new occurrence to you after your first invitation when you were freshly eighteen. back then, your attendance made headlines as you had become the youngest guest to attend that year. even more headlines followed when you were handpicked by karl lagerfeld as a muse for the house of chanel. over the years you became a known figure within the fashion industry while dominating the western music industry. the level of success you’d reached in a few short years was recognized by numerous awards, accolades, and several gold and platinum album titles to your name. even with the musical success, you never forgot that fashion was really your claim to fame many years ago. hence why you graciously accepted a met invitation every single year. 

to many, the met gala is a star studded night where you get gussied up in clothes from top designers in high fashion, meet other A-list celebrities, and do whatever the hell you do inside because nobody seems to know. in reality, it was waking up at six in the morning then getting ready all day, walking a red carpet, answering the same 5 questions from reporters who hopefully remembered your name, then sat through what felt like the world’s longest and most awkward dinner. the only highlight of the event was finding out that one of your friends was only two tables away from you, rather than the usual five or six. overall, the real fun started at the afterparties which you always ended up being roped into attending then drunkenly leaving hand in hand with some supermodel you met that night. 

you sat in a suite on the 15th floor of the iconic Mark Hotel as your stylists, makeup artists, and management and PR team bustled around to make sure you were ready for tonight. the theme was Karl Lagerfeld, the designer that picked you as his muse years ago. your outfit was a handpicked piece designed by the esteemed german courtier. originally worn by linda evanglista in the Chanel Ready to Wear Fall/Winter 1991-1992 in Paris Fashion week. the entire morning was doing small interviews for Vogue and other fashion media outlets that get most of their press from this event. there was a smile on your face as you told the camera before you, “i’m super excited for this evening because i don’t think many people know i’m attending the event. i’ve been trying my best to keep it on the down low, but i think people are going to figure it out before i get to the carpet.” there was a small laugh followed by your words that trailed off on the end, specifically because you knew of a certain someone that was hoping just this once you wouldn’t show. 

“unnie, did you see the headlines?” the thai idol asked with urgency in her tone that made her member’s heart race. the older woman hesitated to answer, but she went silent as she read the headline that appeared over the banner at the top of her screen:

UPDATE: Y/N TO MAKE APPEARANCE AT THE 2023 MET GALA

jennie stared at her phone and lisa cautiously prompted, “are you okay?” jennie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before saying, “why wouldn’t i be? it’s whatever. she gets invited every year, i don’t know why this would be any different.” she paused for a moment then abruptly commented, “i have to go. i’ll talk to you later.” the younger woman gave a weak smile, “okay bye, i’ll talk to you later.” in a sudden bout of frustration jennie tossed her phone across the room onto the bed then brought her hands to her forehead as she mumbled, “fuck…” there were light taps on her hands as her makeup artist silently chided her not to mess up her perfectly made up face. for the next hour she remained silent until she had to put on a smile for the cameras and fans that swarmed the porte-co·chère of the hotel down below. 

the car ride to the carpet was dead silent as jennie tried to soothe her nerves before enduring the next eight to ten hours on her own. through the deeply tinted glass jennie could see her security team waiting for her to step out of the car. one of the staff members assigned to her for the evening warmly assured her, “take as long as you need, miss kim.” she gave a curt nod and a hushed thank you before holding the door handle for a moment. one of the security guards pulled open the door and held a hand out to assist her out of the large black SUV. 

cameras flashed and fans shrieked and screamed as they desperately tried to earn jennie’s attention from their barricaded sections that flanked the entrance of the carpet. the idol waved and smiled for the cameras as she’d been taught to so many years ago, her smile turning genuine when she laid eyes on a familiar petite brunette. the young influencer passed jennie a mic and asked enthusiastically, “how are you?” with her eyes glued forward for a moment too long, jennie replied, “i’m everywhere. this is my first Met…” emma asked in slight surprise, “first Met?” the korean singer nodded and continued answering the quick questions on her current feelings. she laughed as the younger girl somewhat awkwardly yet genuinely shared the same thoughts of being nervous and anxious before such a large event. for just a moment jennie glanced to her right thinking she saw someone she knew. her blood ran cold when she realized she did know the person- you looking her way with the same narrowed gaze that dripped of venom and honey that had her spellbound from the first time. 

a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips after seeing the affect you still had on her after she supposedly stopped caring about you. for the fun of it, you shot her a wink before turning around and kissing the cheek of the interviewer that was speaking with you. jennie flinched ever so lightly then laughed awkwardly in a futile attempt to play it off. she quickly thanked emma for the interview then rushed off to the usher that was to guide her along the carpet. the remainder of the carpet went by in the blink of an eye. largely in part to the fact that she disassociated for the entire thing, only regaining awareness of her surroundings as she was ushered inside. 

jennie followed the usher to her table where her placecard was sitting daintily with her name handwritten in elegant calligraphy. she sat down gracefully beside another supermodel she’d yet to learn the name of then introduced herself politely. as more guests filed in, she couldn’t help but scan the room in search of you. the open seat beside her with a placecard that read a simple RESERVED made her stomach twist into knots. underneath the white tablecloth she bounced her leg anxiously, desperately hoping nobody around her noticed the soft clicking sound around the table. another usher made their way to her table and she took a breath of relief when she saw dua lipa approaching with a warm smile. however, the feeling was short lived when the albanian singer bent down and kissed her cheek with a slight pout. she explained quietly, “hi love, i wanted to come over and tell you myself that they’ve moved my seat this evening. but i’ll catch up with you later, alright?” jennie tried to answer as quickly and politely as possible to get in her question of who was taking dua’s place. 

the question was answered before it could even leave jennie’s lips when she heard you speak from over her shoulder, “thank you so much for understanding, babes. have a great evening and we’ll chat later!” you sat down beside jennie and greeted the other guests at your table which you were seemingly familiar with to some extent. the idol shifted beside you and you gave her what appeared to others as the warmest and welcoming smile, “jennie it’s been a while hasn’t it?” the woman saw through you as if you were made of glass, yet she refused to cause a scene at the Met Gala of all events. so, she plastered on a smile and hugged you back, “it has, how have you been?” she humored you in conversation and did her best to wiggle her way out of exclusively talking to you by roping the other table guests into the conversation. however, no matter how much she tried, you always managed to turn the topic exclusive to the two of you. jennie wondered how nobody else around her could see the lack of genuinity in your eyes, that you were intentionally toying with her like some game. but then again, why would anyone suspect you, a known sweetheart, of such a thing. 

you smiled to yourself as you did small things to get under jennie’s skin and give her the attention you craved. wether it be a hand trailing along her thigh or lightly hitting her foot with your own beneath the tablecloth. seeing her clenched teeth and smiles that faltered for just a split second were all the reward you needed to spur you on further. the moment that you all were dismissed to look around the museum exhibit, jennie was on her feet and eager to leave your side. you made no effort to follow her immediately, instead you found a handful of familiar faces and did your rounds to those you both did and didn’t care for…you did have a reputation to uphold anyway. an hour passed and you finally had eyes on jennie once more, she stood alone in front of a mannequin with yet another vintage Chanel piece. you watched her from afar, taking in the way she stared at the clothing with a genuine admiration and curiosity. the sight made your heart flutter as she reminded you of the first time you both met years ago. 

the feeling of warmth that bloomed in your heart ran cold when you saw some random man approach her. from his outfit alone you knew that he was someone’s plus one or an influencer that purchased his own ticket for the event. the way he stared at jennie with almost a sense of hunger and desperation made your skin crawl. you slowly made your way across the floor, wondering if she would actually need someone to intervene. her smiles were polite but you could see the way her eyes flitted from his with nearly every word she spoke as if she was searching for an escape. the stiff mannerisms of hers came to a halt when the guy attempted to place a hand around her waist, making her flinch out of surprise. without hesitation you rushed to her side in less than three strides. 

you slipped your arm behind her waist with ease, the familiar feeling bringing a genuine smile to your face. turning towards her you kissed her cheek, “hey beautiful i thought i lost you back there.” she looked up at you, a flash of fear still lingering in her gaze prompting you to pull her closer to your body. the guy in front of her tried to continue his conversation but you cut him off, “she’s with me. i expect that you’ll be returning to your table now, yes?” if looks could kill the young man would have been gone yesterday. he grew nervous with you, of all guests, standing over him, so much so that he couldn’t even utter an actual apology before literally running off. 

jennie continued to stand in your hold with her hand toying at the heavy gold belts wrapped around your waist. you remained silent as you lightly took her shaking hand into your free one, “jen?” she continued to stare at the same spot on the ground as you prompted once more, “jennie?” the idol snapped out of her trance and pulled away from you, “thank you for that…” she watched as your features softened in a way that made her heart beg that she cave into you and give you the type of attention she used to. your tone changed with the next words you spoke, this time they were genuine, the same way you used to speak to her, “yeah…of course, Nini.” her heart raced at the last word, so familiar and nearly made her crack but she internally put her fist down. she wasn’t about to start this, not now and especially not here. she backed away from you as if you were a burning flame that was moments from losing control. the singer straightened her posture then said coldly, “don’t call me that.” she turned on her heel then hurried off to go talk to another A-list supermodel that probably didn’t remember what group she was actually from. 

throughout the entire rest of the night jennie avoided you like the plague, no eye contact, no words exchanged, it was like you were invisible to her. the main event ended and the after parties were getting ready to begin. one of your managers found you and rushed you to meet your stylists where you were changed for the second look of the night. keeping with the theme, you wore a long sleeved white tweed top, black pants, and a large gold chanel belt. the look was worn by beverly peele in the chanel spring 1993 show. chunky gold bracelets adorned your wrist while the belt quite honestly felt like wearing a weighted hula hoop. nevertheless, you were guaranteed to be the talk of the night once again. 

TipToe by Jason Derulo blasted over the speakers in one of the many rooms within the multi-million dollar mansion owned by some uppity tycoon on the Upper East Side. the lights were off with the exception of burnt orange neon lights that barely lit a damn thing in the room. despite the windows being open, the entire house felt hot as hell with all the sweaty bodies of drunk and high supermodels, singers, and A-list actors. you watched who danced alongside you, trying to avoid meeting strangers with wandering hands and lustful gazes. as you skimmed the crowd around you, a tall blonde dragged a small black haired woman to dance with her. once again your interest peaked at seeing jennie in the perfect place for you to make another move. 

the bass of the music thrumed throughout your entire body as you danced your way over the now cluster of girls with jennie. you threw an arm around one of the women’s shoulders and shouted over the music, “Kenny!” the supermodel turned to face you and her face lit up as she pulled you into a hug, “Y/N!” jennie slowed her movements to the beat of the music as she watched you talking to the girl next to her. the nerves only lasted a minute because a second later she was pressing herself against Hailey Baldwin with her head resting on her shoulder and wrapping the blonde’s arm tighter around her torso. the unsuspecting model simply laughed and kissed jennie’s temple as she swayed to the beat jennie set. just as you began to look away, jennie opened one eye and smirked when she saw your dissatisfied expression  and pretended you were invisible all over again. 

you grew impatient and slowly slipped between Kendall and Hailey which they welcomed without question. jennie tried to keep Hailey against her but your arm slid between their bodies and Hailey switched positions with you to dance with Kendall. jennie began to make a move to leave but you pulled her back flush against your front. the gentle touch of your fingers ran down her arm making goosebumps form on her skin. you chuckled lowly and said into her ear, “come on now, dance with me.” the warmth of your body against hers was a feeling she thought she’d forgotten but now it was as if you’d never left. she turned to face you, gaining some control back before she attempted to make her leave, “i don’t want to dance with you.” her voice was saying one thing while her mind and body said another prompting you to ask, “are you sure because the way you’re holding my arm on your waist is telling me otherwise.” 

jennie glared at you through those cat-like, chocolate brown eyes and thick black lashes with a gaze that made your heart race. she watched as your eyes crawled over her body with such a hunger that she would have gagged if it was anyone else. you pulled her closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies and for just a moment she almost gave into your touch. once again she backed up and swallowed thickly, “i’m doing just fine with my friends here.” you stared at her unfazed then glanced over to Kendall and Hailey who were lost in their own offbeat two step to Alone by Kim Petras. god, jennie wished she could kiss wipe that stupidly perfect, coy smirk off of your face. a few people around you both noticed that you were no longer dancing and instead standing in a confrontational position before jennie. she looked at the hand she was still holding to her body and sighed as she turned back around, dancing against your front, “i’m just not trying to cause a scene.” you laughed lowly into her ear, “whatever you say, angel.” 

you held her slender waist to your body and the hand that rested by her leg into your own, lacing your fingers together with a smile. jennie slipped her hand out of yours and you tsked quietly, “and about your friends- you know goddamn well none of these girls give a fuck about you, they just care about the title you carry. they’re all up on you just to take a picture and use it to get an extra million likes and comments. you’re wasting your time staying around them because after tonight it’s gonna be like you two never met.” the idol hated to admit it but you were 100% right. when it came to western celebrities, they heard the name BLACKPINK in tandem with one of the members names, and they were immediately trying to befriend them for clout. it was evident in the way they called jisoo by the wrong name, never pronounced rosé with the proper accent, just plain forgot lisa’s name, and how at least 12 people tonight called jennie ‘jenna’ instead. despite that, she was completely used to it by now and expected ingenuity from the celebrities that she met overseas. 

the singer shot you a side glare and you frowned to mock her, “don’t give me that face, just admit the fact that you know i’m right.” jennie rolled her eyes and asked in annoyance,  “and what if you are? why should i care about any of that?” you answered simply, “because you and i both know you aren’t enjoying this right now.” jennie swallowed thickly as your breath ghosted the shell of her ear and she lied straight through her teeth, “i don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n. i’m having a good time.” this time your tone was slightly harsher but in a way that made her stomach erupt into butterflies, “jennie cut the shit, i know more than anyone what you look like when you’re enjoying yourself.” heat rushed to her cheeks at the implication of your words, memories filling her head only making her blush deeper. 

you felt the way her body began melting into your touch and she slowly started giving into what she both desperately wanted and knew she shouldn’t do. she shook the thought from her head and turned back to face you, once again fighting internally with herself to walk away. the way your eyes transfixed on her was no help but then you uttered the words, “come on mama, let me show you a good time…for old time’s sake.” jennie clenched her jaw and you leaned your forehead against hers, without even realizing it her arms ended up over your shoulders. the feeling of your fingers trailing up her mini black dress made her stumble, making you wrap an arm around her waist once more. her voice was weak when she tried to reply with confidence, “i-i don’t think-” all you had to do was raise one eyebrow and give that same damned smile to get her to cave, “just for tonight.” immediately you smiled the million dollar smile the world fell in love with as you led jennie through the crowd to find a place in the 32 rooms of the oversized mansion. she held onto your hand until you rounded a corner and pushed it open before pressing it closed with her back against. she hated how easily she gave into your wishes but she couldn’t help it with the way you felt her up with ease, making her get lost in all that you were, making her feel like you did all those years ago. 

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fic #jennie kim #jennie imagines #jennie scenarios #girl group angst #girl group reactions #wlw fanfic #idol x female reader #kpop reader insert #blackpink x reader #blackpink x fem #blackpink x you #jennie x reader

[xmalereader]

Eddie Munson X Professor! Male Reader || TWO ||

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|| Masterlist || ONE ||

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Authors Note: Here you go, hope you enjoy the angst and slow burn next part will probably the last…maybe! Also, I know Eddie is suppose to be energetic and sarcastic but let’s be honest, the man was an outcast, he watched people he know die in front of him giving him trauma and Eddie would 100% be a virgin at dating and during intimate moments. So be prepared to read so more angst Eddie trying to learn how to love. Also grammar error is mine, got to lazy to go back and make corrections.

Summary: Eddie survives the upside down and Vecna is no more. After turning back to Hawkins, the town continues to hate him and decided to leave town and find his way to college, giving himself a new future and another chance at life. He just didn’t expect himself roll around in his Professor bedsheets.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, NSFW, Eddie and reader are in their 20s, age gap, Professor reader, student eddie, 90’s, Dustin is sarcastic, mentions of the upside down, anxiety, panic attacks, kissing, dating, mentions of failure, eddie has fears, reader is a sweetheart, good boy kink, secret relationship, teasing, sexual tension, slow burn, self-esteem issues, trauma.

Word count: 5.2k

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The dining room is full of chaos, all the teenagers talking while the adults interacted with each other, talking about parties that they’ve gone too or school that they have been going too. While everyone was busy talking and eating, meanwhile. Eddie sat at the end of the large dinning table with Y/n sitting across from him from the other end.

The two were silently eating and avoiding eye contact. Their introduction was awkward between the two. Eddie didn’t expect Steve’s guest to be his literature professor, asking the older man how he knew the Harringtons y/n had told him that he and Steve were childhood friends and how their parents knew each other, both did get along but they didn’t have that strong bond that Steve had with the other adults and children.

Eddie squirms in his seat, focusing on his food. Steve had told everyone that they would be staying at his place for the first few nights before heading out to their camping spot. His parents were out of town for the whole summer break and they will be on their own. Steve was able to buy everyone take out as they ate together on the dining table.

“So,” Y/n’s voice causes Eddie to freeze. “How exactly do you all know each other?”

Steve was chewing on his chicken before swallowing his food and answering. “School and because they always got into trouble and somehow became apart of it.” Steve clearly couldn’t say that they met because of Wills disappearance and the upside down opening, instead they stuck with their story of meeting at school.

“School?”

“Yep!” Dustin pops the P with a smile, focusing back on his food.

Y/n nodded, poking his food before clearing his throat. “And you Eddie? How do you know these kids?”

Eddies eyes avert to him, noticing the raised brow. “I—I knew Dustin and his friends from high school.” He quickly says, quickly taking a drink from his water.

“High school?” Eddie can tell that he’s doing the math before saying. “Weren't you twenty? Maybe nineteen?”

“Yeah, Eddie got held back in high school. Had to repeat senior year for failing.” Dustin blurts out, causing Eddie to choke on his water and cough. Grabbing his napkin and cleaning himself up. “Mhm, got held back and repeated my senior year, became friends with some kids because why not? Anyways—I need to use the bathroom.” Eddie rambles out while standing from his seat and leaving the dinning room, focusing on finding the bathroom and locking himself inside.

Eddie leans back against the door, focusing on his breathing and trying to calm his breathing. Eddie felt upset or embarrassed that Y/n knew about his failure, he didn’t know if he would be able to stand the next few days in the same house as Y/n. Seeing his Professor every day and night, bumping into hallways or in the kitchen. His feelings for him were suppose to go away during the summer but that won’t be happening anytime soon now that he’s also here.

Eddie takes his time to collect himself until he got better, flushing the toilet so that no one knew what he was really doing. He sighs to himself and unlocks the door, pulling it open to come face to face with Y/n. He leaned back against the wall with crossed arms.

Eddie froze in his steps. Opening and closing his mouth.

“That explains why you didn’t want to fail.” He hears Y/n whisper, avoiding his gaze. Shame filled his eyes. “I thought you didn’t want to fail because you hated me and my class and would have to repeat it again but, now I understand why you didn’t want to fail.”

Eddie steps forward and closed the door behind him, remaining quiet as he lets Y/n talk.

“You were afraid of failing because of the failure you received back in high school—god dammit.” Y/n cursed, chuckling dryly as he shakes his head. “Eddie, I’m sorry if I said anything that made you feel upset.” He was quick to apologize, pushing himself off the wall and approaching Eddie slowly. The space between them growing small. Y/n reached out to gently touch his arm.

Eddie flinched from his touch, causing Y/n to remove his hand. He bites his lip in worry. “I’m sorry.” He repeats himself.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I just—I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t know how you would react due to my setback in high school.”

“Did you really think I’d think of you as a failure?”

Eddie chuckles. “You kind of did when we first spoke.”

Y/n groans, remembering when he told Eddie that he knew who he was because he was his number one failing student. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight that day and it just came out.”

“It’s fine.” Eddie is quick to cut in, side stepping from Y/n and making his way downstairs. Y/n is left standing alone in the hall, staring at the empty spot where Eddie once stood before standing up straight and breathing out a deep sigh.

He finds his way down the stairs to meet up with the others, watching the teens sass the adults. It brought a warm feeling to Y/n’s heart, in his family it was just him and his brother. The two of them did get along but sometimes the house still felt quiet whenever one of them was gone. He sometimes felt like an only child since him and brother grew up fast and found their own paths. Right now his brother is married and living on his own while he remains here. His parents had spent majority of their time traveling around the world now that they didn’t have to worry about their own children.

“Hey Y/n,” Steve approaches him from the kitchen. “Think you’ll be fine with having us all here for the next few days?”

Y/n scoffs. “Steve this is your house and in your guest, I don’t think you need to ask for my permission.” He smiles. “But I think it’ll be fine—anyone here snore loudly?”

Steve winced, slowly turning his head to eye Lucas who was bickering with Max and Mike. Y/n laughs a little. “I’ll make sure to stay away from his room.”

“Trust me, you can hear him from miles away. But, he’s a great kid.” Steve shrugs his shoulders before heading back to the dinning room to help clear out some dishes. It felt odd watching Steve act like a parent in front of teenagers, but yet again, Steve always wanted a big family of his own.

His eyes moved to each teen and adult that sat around the table until they finally land on Eddie. He was talking to Dustin about their future D&D campaign and when they can get started. He was too busy talking to Dustin to even notice Y/n staring at him.

Eddie didn’t feel uncomfortable around his Professor, no, he felt comfortable around the man. He just didn’t trust himself being around him for such a long time, afraid that his secret about his attraction towards him will come spilling out to the point where he confesses. He didn’t want to scare the man away or do anything that’ll ruin things. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if Y/n had gotten confessions from other students who were rejected by the popular professor. Eddie didn’t want to be another reject so, he’s gonna try his best to keep distance from his professor.

—

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You and Y/n will be sharing a room.” Steve clarifies as Eddie’s face pales in horror. “Can’t I share with Dustin or maybe Lucas? I mean, I don’t want to bother your guest.” He chucked out nervously, hoping that Steve would change his mind but the other man only shrugs his shoulders. “Lucas is getting his own space because of his snoring while Dustin claimed to bunk with me so,” he pats Eddie’s shoulder, handing him a pillow. “Rooms upstairs, first door on the left.”

Steve gives him a tight smile and leaves him alone to deal with the others arrangements. Eddie is left standing their, clutching his pillow in hand. He was suppose to avoid him and now he’s bunking with him.

Eddie didn’t have a choice but to head upstairs, his bag full of clothes in one hand and a pillow and blanket in the other. Once he reaches the room he stands outside the door for a few minutes, hesitating to knock on the door. He gives himself another minute before knocking, it felt like he was walking into Y/n’s office again.

He hears shuffling on the other side of the door, a small thump here and a whisper of curses. It takes Y/n awhile to open the door, rubbing his left leg and holding back a pained look after slamming it against the desk. “Eddie, what can I do for you?”

Eddie licks his lips. “Steve was arranging the sleeping conditions and told me that I’d be sharing with you tonight, did he not tell you?”

“No! I mean yes, he did let me know—sorry I’ve been distracted.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair and opening the door wider for Eddie to come inside. Once Eddie steps inside he sets his bag near the closet before scanning the room. Or was spacious and it held a private bathroom, it looked more like a master bedroom due to the size. As he continued to look around the room his eyes land on the bed.

There was only one bed and two of them.

Eddie swallows nervously. “I’ll take the floor.” He quickly says, kicking his bag aside and make some room. “No, Eddie the bed is big enough for the two of us.” Y/n exclaimed, stopping him from lying on the floor.

“But—wouldn’t it be weird?”

“What would?”

“Sharing a bed, with your student.”

Y/n turns to stare at the bed before facing Eddie. “We’re not in class Eddie. Your not my student and I’m not your professor, we’re just two normal people who happen to know Steve and are taking a vacation in Hawkins.” He explains to him, taking Eddie’s pillow and tossing it on the bed. “Will face our backs together if it’ll make you comfortable.” He suggested.

Eddie thinks about it before agreeing, padding along with the idea of sharing a bed but making sure that their was space between them. The bed is big enough for the two of them so Eddie wouldn’t have to worry too much. He walks over to his bag and unzips it, pulling out some clothes to sleep in. He’s the first to use the bathroom, leaving Y/n on his own to make the adjustments on the bed. While Eddie takes his time changing, once he’s finished and steps out he can’t help but grown nervous.

He breaths softly and tells himself that it’s only for a week, he can handle a few nights in the same bed as Y/n. He can do that, right?

“You can pick a side.” He hears Y/n voice next to him. The older man stood next to him, nodding towards the bed as Eddie claims the left side. He climbs under the sheets and pulls them over his neck, keeping himself covered and closed up. Y/n chuckles quietly, getting into his own side and pulling the covers him, he makes sure to turn off the lamp next to his bedside. The room going dark and quiet.

The only thing heard is the soft muffled voices downstairs, the others still getting ready for bed while Y/n lied on his back staring at the ceiling and Eddie on his side, his back facing his professor. The two are quiet for the first ten minutes, the situation was slowly growing uncomfortable to the point where Eddie didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep at all.

The tension between them grew until Y/n whispered softly. “Does Steve know?”

Eddie raised a brow, glancing over his shoulder. “Know?”

“About us, about our situation and relation.” He clarified for Eddie.

Eddie shifts back in place, facing the wall. “Not that I know of, no.” He whispers back. “Honestly I don’t think Steve would really care—you did say this was our vacation, we’re not at the university. I’m no longer your student and your no longer my professor.”

Y/n knew that eddie was right, they were no longer at the university, meaning that the two of them being here didn’t really affect them as much. The two knew the same person they were friends with and staying at the same house, nothing more.

“Right.” He whispers out, glancing to Eddie for a short while before turning on his side, also facing his back to Eddie. For the rest of the night they keep their distance and are able to get some sleep before sunrise hit them.

Eddie expected things to get better the next morning but they never did. He couldn’t stop bumping into Y/n, wherever he went he was there and he couldn’t find a way to avoid him. Spending the next few nights together in the same bed only complicated the feelings he has for his Professor.

It was his third day at the Harringtons household and he couldn’t stand sleeping another night with his Professor. Which is why he’s standing in a motel office, asking for any available rooms.

“I’m sorry darling, but we don’t have anything available.” The young women behind the desk says with a sad smile.

“Do you by any chance have anything in the next few weeks out?” He asks, more like begs for a room to be free.

She checks the log again before sighing to herself. “I’m sorry, the earliest we have is next month. It’s summer break and everyone is on vacation and had booked rooms ahead of time. I’m really sorry.” She says again, not able to help him with his troubles.

Eddie gives her a polite smile and excuses himself, leaving the office with a frown on his face before getting on the van. He could try to head further out of town to look for another motel but the drive back and forth wouldn’t be worth it. Instead he drives himself back to Harringtons place and parks the van on the drive before stepping out to see Will and Mike checking on the tents and making sure they are big enough and have all the completed parts.

“Hey you two, how’s the check up going?” He asks, walking over to them as he placed his hands on his hips and watched them work. “The tents big enough for two people and we’ve got all the parts too—“ said Will.

“Expect for the cover that goes on top in case it rains.” Mike cuts in, folding up the tent and putting it back in its bag. Eddie frowns, “We can use a tarp and place it over. I mean, we don’t water going in so we improvise.” Eddie didn’t do much camping as a kid. He was too busy being around when his parents argued with each other to the point where he was left at his uncles who actually cared and loved him, the old man didn’t hesitate to raise him.

“Will see if Steve even has a tarp.” Mike rolls his eyes as he stands up and walks further into the garage to check. Eddie hums to himself before making his way inside the house, hearing everyone’s bickering and laughing. Eddie has grown used to the loud noise between his friends, it made him feel comfortable, made him feel like he was home.

Eddie stood on the middle of the living room, looking around to see what he can do to help out with the camping trip and what else they needed to pack up. Before he can head into the kitchen to help Nancy and Jonathan with getting the food packed up. He’s grabbed by the back of his shirt collar and dragged away from the others, startling him as he looks over his shoulder to see Y/n walking down an empty area of the house and shoving him inside the room.

“Hey—what the hell?!” Eddie exclaims as he stumbled inside, hearing the door lock behind him as he turns around to face a very angry Professor. “Want to explain to me why Steve told me that you were switching rooms with Dustin?” He asks.

“I—I didn’t switch with anyone.”

“Oh please, Eddie your like an open book. I can read you easily and you’re a terrible liar.” He grits out, stepping forward as he asks. “Eddie, if I make you uncomfortable just tell me, don’t run away.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Then what is it?” Y/n takes another step forward, backing Eddie up against the wall as he stands in his space. Eddie turns his head to the side, avoiding his gaze and focusing on his shoes. “It’s just—“ Eddie shakes his head, growing nervous as his hands began to shake. He rubs them together to try and make the nerves go away but nothing was working.

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, it’s just—I don’t trust myself to be around you because I’m afraid—“

Y/n gently reaches up, listening to Eddie ramble as his fingers grazed against his cheek, using his thumb to stroke his jaw. Eddie was too distracted to even know what was going on.

“—I don’t know how to react around you or what to say, I mean I’m your student and your my professor and being here feels a little weird, not because you ruined the trip or something it’s not because of that it’s because I’m afraid of letting out my confessions and I don’t want to upset you or do anything that’ll get you upset—“

Eddie was hyperventilating, he felt the room closing in on him and he couldn’t breath. He couldn’t hear Y/n’s voice tying to calm him down. He feels his hands against his skin, pressing their foreheads together as he whispers. “It’s alright Eddie, just breath—focus on my voice. Breath in and out.”

He shakes his head in panic, nothing was working. He felt like he was drowning and he couldn’t move or feel anything.

“I—I can’t.” Eddie chokes out. His eyes going wide as they fill with tears. He can’t even concentrate or process the thought of his own Professor kissing him. His breath hitching as he feels Y/n’s lips sealed against his, gripping his jaw in his hands as he backs Eddie against the wall, caging him in. His eyes grow wide at the sudden movement. All of a sudden he the panic inside of went away and a new one washed over him. His own professor was kissing him and he didn’t know what to do or say.

Eddies body language was enough for Y/n to take notice that he was no longer panicking. He slowly pulls away, his nose gently nudging against Eddie’s before licking his lips and giving Eddie some space. The two are panting, hot breaths against each other as Y/n clears his throat.

“Sorry, Nothing was working and you were calming down. I heard that kissing can help sometimes.” Y/n mumbled out, his hand releasing his jaw and giving it one last stroke before stepping away. “Is it true?”

Eddie furrowed his brows in confusion. “What is?”

“Your confession, is it true?”

Eddie feels his face heat up, embarrassment washing over him. He can’t lie to him now, y/n could easily read him and know when he’s lying. He’s never going to see Y/n again, maybe in the hallways and at Steve’s place but after that he will be back with his uncle, far away from everyone else and alone again. He sighs to himself and gives off a slow nod.

“Yes.” He whispers, avoiding his gaze. “I—I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t know how you would react. But now you know.”

“Eddie—“

“It’s fine, I understand your rejection so let’s pretend like nothing ever happened.” Eddie pushed himself off the wall and walks passed him towards the door. “Thank you.” He mumbled out in a soft whisper, escaping the room they are in together and slamming the door behind him. He heads to the living room where he finds majority of the teens watching television. “Hey, are you guys done checking up?”

“Yeah, where were you?” Dustin questions, tilting his head back to look at Eddie upside down. Eddie smiles at Dustin. “I was doing my own checking, just want to make sure you little twerps have everything because I swear, I saw you and Lucas arguing about forgetting some stuff.” He teased out, earning himself an elbow to the ribs.

Eddie laughs, sitting down next to Dustin as he looks over at the television to watch whatever they were watching. He pulls his knees up to his chest and tries to keep himself focused on whatever they were watching and not try to think about Y/n. The kiss kept coming back to him like a memory, he still remembers how soft and gentle the kiss was and how Y/n held him close.

He feels himself blush and shakes the image out of his head. He only kissed him as a way to help with his panic attack, helping him breath again. But now, he doesn’t know what to do for the next few days out now that he’s kissed his Professor and confessed to him about his feelings. He for sure, can never share a room with him again.

They spent majority of their day watching movies and shows until the teens all fell asleep in the living room. Steve tells them that it’s best to let them sleep here then sending them to their rooms so, Eddie helps out with covering them up and making sure they are comfortable before turning off the tv.

“Hey, Dustin and I usually shared rooms, do you want to share the room tonight or would you like to be on your own?” Steve asks, standing next to Eddie as he watched him help Dustin remove his hat. “I uh, I can take a room on my own if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be sleeping alone too, taking advantage since these little brats will be sleeping here.” Steve whispers with a grin as he tiptoes away from the kids. Eddie stays behind for a bit before making his way upstairs, before he can enter the empty room that Dustin slept in he’s quick to remember that he left his stuff inside Y/n’s room.

“Dammit.” Eddie glanced at the door behind him, the nearest one to the stairs. He stares at it for a few seconds before making up his mind on getting his Stuff. If he wants to sleep comfortable he’s gonna have to get his clothes back.

Trudging over he knocks on the door, giving it two light knocks before it’s swung open. Revealing a shirtless Y/n who only wore some sweats. Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s staring, he expected Y/n to have a little muscle, maybe, but instead he was lean. He did look fit but it was hidden underneath his clothes.

“I just came to get my stuff.” He mumbled, pointing to the bag next to the closet. Y/n nods and let’s Eddie inside, closing the door behind him as he focused on his own task, getting the bed ready for himself.

Eddie focuses on packing up his clothes and shoving it inside the duffel bag, ignore the movements Y/n made behind him. Hearing him shuffle next to him as he holds out on of Eddie’s shirts to him. “Don’t forget this.” He says in a soft tone, the same tone that Eddie fell in love with when he first stepped inside his classroom.

Eddie looks over and takes the shirt from him hand. “Thank you.” He politely says, shoving it inside his bag too.

The two remain silent while Eddie continued to pack away.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Eddie froze at his words. Zipping up his bag and coming to a stand, turning to face Y/n. “How come?” He has a feeling that he’s the reasoning as to why he’s leaving. He must’ve freaked him out with his confession that he’s leaving town.

“Because you’ll be here after your camping trip and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me around. So, I’m gonna let Steve know tomorrow that I’ll be leaving—find myself another place to stay for the summer.” Y/n removes the covers from his bed, sitting down and rubbing his eyes.

“You can’t just leave, I won’t be here after I get back I’ll be in my room at a motel. If I can find one.” Eddie should’ve booked a room ahead of time but after today he won’t be lucky enough to find a room soon. He’ll probably have to stay here with Steve if he allows him too or else he’ll have to go further out of town just to find himself a place to stay for the month.

“Besides, I’ve already told you that you don’t make me uncomfortable it’s me who makes you uncomfortable—“

“Who said you made me uncomfortable?” Y/n raises a brow.

Eddie shrugs. “I thought you did after I confessed.”

Y/n is up from the bed, walking over to Eddie and startling the poor man as he chuckles. “I was never uncomfortable around you. Don’t you want my honesty, Eddie?” There standing face to face, their chests brushing against each other as Eddie breaths heavily.

“Every time we spent together in my office I enjoyed every minute of it. I liked listening to you talk about your friends, who I finally met, and the way you spoke about your future. I enjoyed those talks, I’ve never told anyone about my family since were complicated and not that interesting but you sat back and listened to me ramble about my annoying brother and how my parents treated us like golden children.” Hs breaths out, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Eddie leans into the touch and swallows nervously.

“When I offered to grade your paper I was honestly hoping you would fail so that I could see you again. But, instead you passed and I knew that I’d never talk to you again and that you’ll be graduating next year.” He brushes their noses together. “Then I saw you again—standing at Steve’s doorstep. I didn’t know if I should’ve been excited to see you or to continue pretending.”

Eddie was taking it all in, hearing his own confessions and truths. He didn’t know how to feel, he imagined that they could be a thing one day but he always told himself that it would never happen. He was a student and he was his professor, if anyone found out about them it could end things. Eddie could be seen as a freak or an outcast again and Y/n—fuck. Y/n could end up losing his whole career all because he wanted to be with him.

“Eddie.” Y/n whispers, his hand trailing up his side and giving it a soft squeeze, he was caged in again. The wall against his back and his chest against Y/n’s, he could feel his heartbeat, if he was quiet enough he swears he could hear it.

“As much as I want too we can’t.” Eddie shakes his head, placing his hand on his wrist and pulling him away. “I can’t be the one to ruin everything for you.”

Y/n groans, taking Eddie by the wrist and pulling him froward causing him to yelp in surprise as he shoved down on the bed, y/n hovering over him. “For you I’ll risk anything.”

Eddie blushes, looking away flustered and not knowing what to say.

He hears Y/n chuckle. “Look at you all flustered, you can’t even look at me in the eyes.”

Eddie groans, pulling away from his grip. “That’s enough.” He tries to get his but is shoved back down. “I’m serious.” Y/n’s voice is stern. “I want this, I want us.” His fingers graze against his jaw, placing his hand against his cheek as he stroked his thumb over his lips. Eddie shudders, staring up at him.

“Can I ask one thing.” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes. “Why?”

Y/n placed a small kiss against the corner of his mouth and mumbled. “Because you’re you. I’ll always love you for that.”

Eddie was afraid of what he might say. It was the most selfish thing Eddie could do, but he leans forward and kissed Y/n clumsily but ardently, over and over again.

At first, Y/n resisted, teasing him. But as Y/n moved then up the bed, his hand underneath Eddie’s bottom as he carried him further up the bed before dropping him down he finally dives down to capture Eddie slips into a heated kiss. It’s terrifying how much Eddie frowns deeply into it. Biting and sucking each others lips, exploring mouths. Y/n’s knee finds it’s way perfectly between the brunets legs, his hands hold his shoulders, keeping him in place.

Soon enough they run out of air, and Y/n pulls away. Panting, he stares at those brown eyes in front of him. Then it clicks. Suddenly sad eyes at staring back at him, he panics and pulls Eddie close with his arm wrapped around him and holding him near. He feels Eddie bury his face into his neck as he final sobs, letting go of all the years full of loneliness and desperation. Eddie didn’t know how to process things feelings, he was kissed this way before and he’s never had anyone like him. Being the towns ‘freak’ caused him to lose a lot of confidence in himself, no one ever spoke to him or even glanced an eye. He was outcast, an outsider and that’s all he was.

So, to be held by someone who actually wanted him for him was causing him to break down. Eddie was letting himself go, letting out these feelings that he kept hidden for years.

He feels Y/n’s fingers run through his hair, holding him in his arms as he whispered soft words to him. “It’s alright, just take your time.” He whispered, lying them down properly with Y/n on the left side, holding Eddie close and placing soft kisses on his head. Eddies grip around him for stronger, afraid that this was all in his head, that he was dreaming and will probably wake up soon with him lying in an empty bed.

“I’m here.” Y/n whispered. “You can talk to me or not talk to me, but I’m here.”

The reassurances was enough for Eddie to know that this was real and that he wouldn’t wake up alone.

——————————————————————————

Tags: @guiltofpleasures @qlqstqr @ur-moms-used-tampon101 @drspencerreid921 @ewf1nn @ziggys-guitar @alexs-playground @vesta0

#male reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x male reader #stranger things x male reader #stranger things #jospeh quinn #angst #slow burn #professor x male reader #Professor AU #AU #second part #Professor x student

[irisinthemoon]

Until I Found You, Pt. 7

[Part. 1], [Part. 2], [Part. 3], [Part. 4], [Part. 5], [Part. 6], [Part. 7]

Hey guys! I am so sorry for not updating in such a long time! I actually had this sitting on my drafts for a while but hadn't been to find the time to edit much less to post it. Since I already graduated high school and summer vacation has started, I finally found some time to write the next few chapters along with posting this one. I will try to write as much as I can considering that I will start College in August and I am not sure how much time I will have on my hands.

P.S. To the one who assumed I was dead, I am alive! Hahaha! But that message you sent did make my day. I had a good laugh for a while after reading it.

Summery: The festival is about to start and with that, the NRC students will finally see what has happened to their two companions.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sorry for the inconvenience, I had to deal with a few issues before coming here.” Professor Trein explained. His tone was soft but stern, giving Rollo the impression that the man was someone who was soft but also tough when needed be. “It’s alright Professor Trein, we are just glad that you were able to make it before the last performance.”

Just as Eliott had said, the professor would have managed to make it before the closing performance. To which he could see the older man was glad for. “I thank you. I also hope my students and charges haven't given you too much trouble.”

“None at all, I am glad to have been able to talk to them while we are here.”

It was a lie, Rollo found them quite repulsing. Always relying on magic to save the day, showing it off without any self restraint. Not to mention that darn purple cat that kept sending him mocking smirks each time their eyes locked. 

“Then I am glad.” Guiding the professor to one of the chairs, Rollo then gestures for the other students to follow along. Taking his seat, Professor Trein furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed the lack of two of his charges. “May I ask, where are Shroud and Leblanche?” Once again, Jules jabs Eliott who had snorted. 

“It seems that both of them were taken by these ‘hunters’.” Answered Malleus, still looking confused about the whole ordeal. At this, the professor’s eyes widened in disbelief. He turns to look at Rollo for confirmation. “Yes, we had been on our way to the battle arena so that we wouldn’t run into them. Unfortunately, they had catched on and took Idia and Neige.”

“Will they be alright?”

“Yes, this is a small tradition the City of Flowers has. Once the opening ceremony is over, we will be able to recover your companions.” 

Deuce lets out a dejected sigh. “They will miss the performance then…” This time, it is Rollo who jabs Eliott on the ribs to stop him from snorting. “Worry not, they will have front row seats to it.” Said Jules with a serene (evil) smile. 

He had explained the event as best as he could without revealing the reason as to why they needed to capture two people. Seems like he wanted to make them wonder, or just make them worry more than they already were.

“Is that what they meant by choosing two ‘special and esteemed’ guests?” Asked Ruggie, ears twitching at the noise the crowd was making. Eliott nods, he still looked like he wanted to laugh but was keeping it together. “You can say that, but as Jules had said, they will in no way shape or form be harmed.”

That seemed to settle the professor’s worries.

Taking a seat, Rollo lets himself relax for a moment. Soon he will be able to see you, then once the tour is over with, he and you would be able to relax and spend some time together before his duties get in the way. A nudge from his left snapped him out of his thoughts, turning to face Jules, he gestured for him to speak.

“You alright? Earlier, when Chen’ya was talking to you, you got this angry and moody look on your face. Did something happen?” His peach-haired friend asked, eyes lingering at the cat beast-man who was off talking to Riddle. “Everything is fine, just trying to get on my nerves.” Much like every student that had come as guests since stepping foot into Nobel Bell. Eliott didn’t look convinced, a concern frown on his lips. 

“Do you need us to take over the touring?” Adds Jules from his right, red eyes casting a glance at Azul, who had been looking at them. In a lower voice he said, “We don’t mind, you can spend your day with [name].”

Shaking his head, Rollo puts his hand up in order to stop them from talking. “It’s fine, it’s my duty as student council president to show our guests around.” His eyes lock with Azul’s, who simply gives him a kind smile. One that makes him curl his lip in disgust. Covering his face again with his purple handkerchief, Rollo looks away. “Plus, I promised her she could join us. She wants to meet Yuu and Grim.”

If he could, he would have left the whole ‘greeting guests’ thing off to the welcome committee. They always took care of these kinds of things, but since he had been the one to request for the NRC and RSA students to come here, and so he must be the one to show them around. The City of Flowers hardly let anyone enter, especially when it came to the academy. Only those who got the invitation to attend the academy could get in without a problem.

And those who didn’t go to the academy, had extended family here, or were on business trips, had to get special permission from the chief in charge of the city. Rollo had to play his part, that meant spending time with the guests as much as it killed him. He couldn’t let Jules’s hard work in trying to convince the chief in letting a few guests in, down the drain.

And the idea of just leaving the two other people that he tolerated at best (no matter what you said, he will not call them friends. The Great Seven know Eliott and Jules will tease him about it relentlessly.) to deal with this hot mess of students. Though, he could say Neige and Yuu were about the only decent ones from the group. And yet, Neige’s unnatural kindness sent a shiver down his spine. 

No one should be that kind.

Before any of the two began teasing him about letting you join them, the loud sound of trumpets cut them off. The familiar rhythm of the drums and trumpets make the crowd instantly cheer, and causes him to sit straight, paying full attention into the arena where a bunch or performers come out dressed as villagers. Jules and Eliott instantly quiet down, eyes eager to see the last performance. Much like Rollo, both had been looking forward to seeing you perform. 

“Maybe you've heard of a terrible place where the scoundrels of Paris Collect in a lair.”

The ‘villagers’ began singing in union, walking at the beat of the trombone. The crowd also began to clap along with the beat, some of them even joining on the singing. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the way Epel nodded along. 

“Maybe you've heard of that mythical place of the Court of Miracles!” 

The giant double doors of the battle arena opened up, and in came you strolling on top of Snowflake, a dark red, white, and black jester dress, a matching hat and mask on your persona. You were sitting sideways, guiding the black stallion as he did the mini dance moves with the beat of the music. Your lips were painted a dark deep red, set on a smirk as your eyes looked over the crowd.  

“Hello, you're there!”

Your voice mixed in with the rest of your companions and crowd, causing even more cheering. A mixture of amazement and surprised gasps could be heard from the other students. Rook was smiling, a light blush on his face, and Rollo remembered something the third year had told him when he had introduced himself. About being the protector of beauty. Guess Rollo can agree with him on you being beautiful, no matter what you wore or how you presented yourself, you were always breathtaking. 

“Where the lame can walk and the blind can see!”

The stallion makes a stop in front of Rollo and his charges. You smirk at them, looking as proud as he felt. “But the dead don't talk, so you won't be around to reveal what you've found!” Your voice was full of joy as you sang, making sure to cast each of the guests a look of mischief before grabbing a bunch of bead festival necklaces from your satchel and throwing it at them.

Sebek lets out an unceremonial shriek, trying to prevent the necklaces from finding a way to Malleus’s horns. Silver catches three of them, a black, green, and aurora one. His eyes stare at you, a small amused smile on his lips as he slips the green one on Sebek, places the aurora one on himself and gives the black one to Malleus. Who smiles, (Rollo gagged a bit), and slips it on, glad to be included in the whole thing.

Azul, Jamil, and Ruggie each have a yellow, maroon, and blue one around their necks, joy filled smiles that don’t scream irritation or shadiness. Deuce holds a red one for Riddle who takes it with a smile as he gives a blue one to Deuce in return. Epel is already wearing a deep rich purple one, matching with Rook. 

Yuu is smiling, laughter escaping his lips as he slips a bright blue necklace on Grim’s neck, the boy matching with his companion. Chen’ya laughs, seeming to make it his mission to catch as many necklaces as he can while wearing five different colors around his neck. 

Grabbing one that had got caught on his chair, he hands it to Professor Trein, who mumbles a thanks as he continues to watch the performance. 

“We have a method for spies and intruders rather like hornets protecting their hive. Here in the Court of Miracles, where it's a miracle if you get out alive!” 

This time, you sing along with the crowd and performers. Some of the students begin singing along with you while clapping to the beat of the song. Jules waves his pointed finger while singing, Eliott claps, a bright smile on his face. Rollo huffs in amusement but even he couldn’t fight off the tiny smile as he watched you gain more confidence with each step and word.

A softer tone takes place after singing the last part, and on cue the five jesters that had cornered them appear in multiple purples of smoke. The leader, Yellow Jester, takes a deep bow as she waves to the crowd. Smirking when her eyes landed on the group. Deuce and Epel gasp and point at them, eyes wide in recognition. 

Yellow jester laughs as they look confused as begins following you and Snowflake with a jump to her step. Jules and Eliott both cover their mouths to prevent from full blown laughing, both already knowing that the moment the music picks up on its usual beat, they will be in for a surprise. 

“Now! Bring forth the intruders who dare step into our Court Of Miracles!” Your voice is booming, bringing everyone to pay attention to you. The Yellow jester laughs while taking a deep bow. “Why yes! We must bring the criminals in for you to judge!” With an elegant twirl, she points at Purple Jester and Blue Jester, “You heard our esteem Judge! Bring forth the intruders!”

“She’s the judge?!” Exclaimed Epel. A few of the other students are just as shocked as he is. “But, what does she mean by intruders?” Asked Jamil, looked once again guarded. “Did we break a rule by accident?” Adds Azul, eyes focusing on the crowd.

Before they could keep asking, the music picked up pace, and in came the answer they had all been seeking. Coming in, tied up with rope and white pieces of cloth covering their mouths, were Idia and Neige. Though, Neige looked a little more composed than Idia did. 

“What are they doing there?!” Riddle and Deuce both yelled at the same time.

Professor Trein looked shocked, but from his lack of action, Rollo assumed he already knew what this was. “Holy- Idia looks like he is about to piss his pants!” Grim laughs as Yuu tried to scold him, worry in his brown eyes. “That is if he hasn’t already!” Adds Ruggie, a mocking laugh leaving his lips. 

“Justice is swift in the Court of Miracles, I am the lawyers and judge all in one!” You sang as you trotted towards the two rope bound students who were now on their knees. Idia shrieks, his cry muffled as he stares at you, bugged eye. From his point of view, it looked like the grim reaper had comed to take his soul. Neige flinched a bit, but schooled his expression. He knew you weren’t going to hurt them, but he will admit. It was intimidating watching you reach them with that huge horse.

“We like to get the trial over with quickly because it's the sentence that's really the fun!”

In a flurry of movements, you pull Snowflake away and reach to pet the two of them The gentle tap you give them caused Idia to flinch and Neige to tilt his head on confusion. You laugh at this, sharp and mocking. Rollo’s chest fills with pride, honestly, he can see why they chose you to be the main act this year. You truly were amazing. 

“Any last words?” 

Idia begins shaking back and forth furiously, his muffle shrieks being heard even from where Rollo was sitting. Neige’s are a lot more tame, but you could see the way he is suitably struggling in. You smirk once again and pull away, “That's what they all say.” That just makes Idia panic even more. 

“Now that we've seen all the evidence-!” One of the jester boys sings before being sharply interrupted by one of the ‘villagers’. A young woman dressed in a plain beige dress raised her hand, and from his left, he heard a multitude of sighs of relief from the other student. Eliott snorted, holding his stomach of all the laughing he had done.  

“Wait! I object!”

“Overruled!” You yelled back.

“I object!” 

“Quiet!” You yelled again, fake frustration in your voice.

“Dang!” Said the woman softly as she lowered her hand down. The crowd laughs, cheers going around the battle arena. 

“We find you totally innocent, which is the worst crime of all…” You sang sadly while holding a hand over your heart, Snowflake’s reins in your other hand. In union, the other jesters follow, with exaggerated frowns on their painted lips. Riddle furrows his eyebrows, “What does she mean that they are innocent and then say that it’s one of the worst crimes?” 

Professor Trein chuckles, shaking his head. This causes his students to look at him in confusion. Malleus tilted his head, a small smile on his lips, he looked confused but he was still enjoying himself. Rollo rolled his eyes, the prince looked ridiculous with those colorful necklaces around his neck. (Sebek had made it his personal mission to collect as many as he could for Malleus when he saw how happy it made him wearing one.)

“So you're going to hang!” You and the crowd sang, full of cheer as you raised your hand into the air and bowed as much as you could while riding Snowflake. 

Rollo had been prepared for two types of reactions: One, the cheers of the crowd as they all agreed with your ‘choice’ while also clapping. (That was the majority of the crowd). Two, the gasps of shock and horrified yells from the students he was with as they all objected with your ‘choice’. 

Rollo has a tiny smirk on his lips, Eliott and Jules laughing out loud on either side of him. Professor Trein laughed lightly, shoulders shaking from the reaction of his students. Chen’ya also laughed, eyes watching the chaos unfold. Then there were the loud shrieks of Idia as they dragged him out and back into the double doors he had come out of. Neige had a look of realization when he looked into the crowd, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. 

Turning to Rollo and his group, you smirk and bow.

“W-Wait! I am sure we can think of something to help them!” Deuce and Epel tried to hold you back by calling out to you. Their voices coated with panic for their two upper-classmen. You turn back to face them, a haughty smirk on your lips. Placing a finger up to your lips is a quiet motion, you winked at them before fully turning around and guiding Snowflake into the double doors. 

The five jesters all bowed to the crowd, then in a purple cloud, vanished just as the double doors to the battle arena closed. The crowd went wild, cheers could be heard in every direction as people clapped and hooted. All of them were overjoyed at the performance, for it meant that the long week festival had officially begun. 

Clapping along with the crowd, Rollo smiled. It was small, and barely even visible unless you really looked into it. Professor Trein and Chen’ya cheered along, each wearing a different smile. Jules and Eliott hooted, calling out your name as they cheered. The other students all stared in a mixture of confusion, and a little worried at the fate their two other companions may bear. 

Clearing his throat, Rollo stood up from his chair and gestured for the others to do the same. “It’s best if we leave now, before the crowd gets rowdy.” Both his secretary and vice-president follow his lead, Professor Trein nods and tells his students and charges to do the same. There are some who voice their disagreement in just leaving, worried over their two companions. Rollo sighs, a little irritated but lets Professor Trein handle them as they make their way out.

“Worry not, they are both fine.” Said the older man, “This is all part of the tradition here in the City of Flowers.” At this, Riddle and Azul perk up. “Tradition?” Asked Azul, casting a glance at Jules who looked away, an innocent smile on his lips. The group continues to walk away from the crowd, following Rollo as he moves swiftly through the bodies of people. “Yes, I will explain it as we go to retrieve Shroud and Leblanche.”

Rollo was thankful he didn’t have to deal with them anymore. With a sigh, he continues to walk, Jules and Eliott both laughing at his side. 

______

Just as you mounted off Snowflake, you heard a shriek so loud that it startled your stallion. Quickly, you began mumbling words of comfort so the black stallion won’t run off like he had done months prior to getting scared by one of the students by accident. Frowning, you hand Snowflake to one of the stable boys and head to wear you could hear the shrieking and sobbing. 

A multitude of the performers surrounded two people, the two that had been selected by the hunters you notice, and it seemed like they were trying to calm down the one with blue fiery hair. For a few seconds, you stare at the boy in amazement. Not once in your stay here had you seen someone with that kind of hair. It looked incredibly beautiful and unique, it brought a smile to your face.

The boy let another sob, breaking you from your trace. Clearing your throat, you quickly maneuvered yourself around the bodies and into the center where the boy was crying. “Is everything alright?” You asked. And in an instant he turned to face you so quickly that you feared he would snap his neck by the speed he had used. 

“YOU!” The boy lunged at you, and having little time to react, both of you landed on the ground. You yelp in surprise and pain from the landing as the boy clung to you, babbling in both fear and anger. “I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE THIS!” You wince at the volume of his voice. Two of the girls nearby tried to help you off the ground while another two did their best to remove the crying boy from you. “THIS IS WHY I NEVER GO TO NORMIE EVENTS! I END UP GETTING KIDNAP ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!”

You tried to calm him down, confusion and worry mixed together as you did your best to soothe his worries. But every time you tried to push him away he would hold you tighter as if you were a lifeline. “Idia! Please let them go! They don’t mean any harm!” Your eyes glanced towards the honey voice. If you weren’t stuck in this situation, you would have gasped at how pretty the boy looked. 

“FIRST IS THE DAMN GHOST BRIDE NOW I WILL END UP WITH MY HEAD ON A NOSE BEFORE I MAKE IT TO PREMIER OF MY FAVORITE ANIME!” Tears and snot left the boy, some of it smearing onto your outfit. Had it been anyone else or any other situation, you would have been angry, after all, the dress wasn’t even yours. 

The ravenette went to help the two other girls pull Idia away from you, his voice calm and collected as he did so. With the help of one of the performers, you stood up and dusted away the dirt off your outfit. After making sure that the snot could be washed off, you turn back to the crying boy. Taking off the mask, you gave it to the performer that helped you and walked towards Idia and the pretty boy. 

The ends of Idia’s hair were turning red the more he struggled from the grip the others had on him. “Thank the seven that we casted a magic nullification spell on him.” Anna, the yellow jester said, eyes wide as he watched Idia struggle even more. “We would have been dealing with more than screaming and shouting.” 

You could only imagine. If the boy was like this without any magic, you wondered what he would do if he could cast spells. Without thinking, you rubbed the magical ring on your right hand. It was much like the ones the student at Nobel Bell wore, the only difference was that it wasn’t for casting magic, but for protection. Something Rollo had given you with the persimmon of the Headmage. 

“Did you guys inform him of why he had been taken away?” You asked, looking at her with serious eyes. She looks away, a nervous smile on her lips. “About that…they are two of the many guests President Flamm invited.” At this you stare at her in disbelief. “Why would you take two of his guests?!” More importantly, how did they manage to take them if Rollo was there?

“He gave us the ok! I swear [name]! We asked before we even took them! If he had said no, we would have just taken Jules and Eliott!” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Idia’s shouts were starting to gather more attention. “I’ll go deal with him. Go and find Rollo, we don’t want more attention on us.” 

“You sure?” Asked Anna, eyes casting a worry look towards the fighting Idia. You nod, “Yeah, I’ll calm him down and explain why he had been dragged here.” Anna sighs but compiles. Leaving you with two of Rollo’s guests along with the other girls helping you, you sigh again and put on your best smile.

Thank the seven you knew how to put on a good act, even under pressure. 

“Hey! I am so sorry for the misunderstanding!” You raised your voice in order to be heard from all the yelling and shouting. Idia halts his struggling, yellow eyes looking at you with small tears. “We will not hurt you,” you added softly, “So please, stop shouting. The horses are getting agitated and if you keep making too much noise they will try to get out and possibly hurt others and themselves.” 

As if to make a point, Snowflake huffed. The stable boy you had given your stallion to shrugged at your questioning look. “I tried taking him back but he refused to move.” Snowflake huffed again in agreement. Shaking your head, you turn back to look at Idia and  begin walking towards him. “Look, they will unhand you but you need to calm down. It’s a lot to ask, especially when you don’t know why you are here in the first place.”  

Idia squints his yellow eyes, suspicion in them as he slowly puts his hands on his sweater pocket. Something blue flashed from the corner of your vision, but before you could get a quick look, it was already gone. 

“...Fine…” 

With a multitude sighs of relief, the girls unhand him. Some give him a small glare while others give him a sympathetic smile. They all leave except the pretty boy and your horse who the stable boy decided to tie up before taking his leave. If you could read his thoughts, you would almost bet that he was having a good time witnessing whatever was about to happen. 

Smiling once more, you gesture for the two boys to take a seat on the nearby bench. “Now, take a seat. I will explain everything. But before we begin, my name is [Name] [Last name]. I am a first year student at Noble Bell College.”

“Nice to meet you, again, sorry for the inconvenience.” The raven hair boy spoke, a sweet smile on his rosy lips. “My name is Neige Leblanche and the person next to me is Idia Shroud.” He gestures to the flame haired boy. “Well, I do apologize, Idia and Neige.” Standing up, you offer a light bow. “I didn’t know that both of you hadn’t been informed about the stunt we pulled.”

In all honesty you thought Rollo would have explained it to them the moment they arrived in order to avoid a situation like this one. Especially to people who didn’t know a single thing about the week long masquerade. You had known about it since you would be part of the act, and Rollo had warned you in case you were chosen as the ‘intruder’ and if you put yourself in their shoes, they had every right to act the way they were. 

“It’s alright! Every place has their own traditions! We should have done more research about the City of Flowers before coming, so that is a mistake on our part.” Reassured Neige as he gestured you to sit down. Idia frowns, a scowl taking place on his face. “Doesn't excuse the fact that Flamm didn't even give a warning…" 

You laughed nervously, between you and Rollo, no one knew of the childish streak the third year had. While he remained mature and a role model student in the public face, Rollo was a whole other person when he was behind doors. Much like Jules and Eliott, he tended to cause mayhap and chaos. Many times, he enjoyed watching it while laughing. This was one for those moments. And perhaps it was karma considering that you tended to join his little misadventures. 

"I'm sure he wanted to warn you but hadn't been given enough time…hunters do tend to appear out of nowhere."

"Now that you mentioned it, he had been in a hurry to get us to the battle arena." Thank the seven for Neige! You nod enthusiastically. "See? He probably couldn't explain it on time!"

"He had more than enough time! We spent nearly all morning with him!" Exclaimed Idia, anger clear on his face. You gulp, "I'm sure Rollo didn't want to spoil the surprise!" Neige (bless his soul) quickly came to the rescue. "Yeah! Many of the students in our group had questions and he had been there to answer them. Plus, even with Jules and Eliott helping him, he still had a handful!"

Idia shot Neige a small glare but didn’t say anything back. Taking this as an opportunity, you spoke up again. “Well, then let me make up for it!” Clapping your hands together, you shot them a smile. “Now, let me start by explaining the reason you two were stuck as this years’ intruders.” 

With that you launched off to a very long, and hopefully not so boring explanation. 

The whole tradition started off in honor of the Court Of Miracles, a place rumored to house people who were hiding from the monsters that used to roam the City of Flowers. The place could only be found by a special map and only a few selected had ownership of said map. While the place may have been hard to find, it didn’t mean that it was impossible. 

Many times, monsters and people with the wrong intentions would try to intrude the place, and in order to keep it safe along with the people living there, a few fellow jesters would capture them and execute them. The leader of the group of jesters was often referred to as the Judge while the other five jesters would be called the hunters. 

The Judge would be the one to take care of dealing the final order while the five hunters would do the capturing. That was how they managed to keep the place safe for so long. That was until two people had come. They were about to be executed if it hadn’t been for a young woman who knew them and concluded that they were no threat to the Court of Miracles. Because those two people were in fact friends of the young women and they wanted to help the fair judge, the one who wanted freedom for the City of Flowers, in defeating the monsters.

Hence, they had earned the privilege of leaving and entering in exchange for help. And so, in order to make sure people remember the bravery of the people, the people in the City of Flowers made it a tradition to start off the festival with the song and performance. Which also included having two intruders and a Judge who guided five jesters. 

But the citizens wanted to add a twist to it in order to make it fun and memorable. Instead of just choosing the two intruders like how they chose the Judge and jesters, they decided to select the two remaining people on the day of the festival by capturing two unsuspected people and bringing them forth. 

“And that is why Rollo didn’t stop them from taking you, he knew the two of you wouldn’t be in danger.” You finish off your explanation by doing a last attempt in saving some face for Rollo. Neige clapped his hands at your performance while Idia just looked even more perplexed. “And people agreed this was a good idea?!” He asked after a minute or two. 

“Well, many liked it! And many more hope to get chosen for it!”

“What is so good about being kidnapped?!”

You did your best to hold in a sigh of frustration. Instead, you shot him a bright smile, one you were sure looked forced but no longer cared. “The reason many hope to get picked is this.” Holding the object up, you showed them the prize. Neige gasped at it, eyes shining with curiosity while Idia just looked even more done.

“...A dream catcher necklace…?”

“Don’t give me that look!” Huffing you began explaining, again. “Remember the map I mentioned that led to the Court of Miracles? This is a mock imitation of it. It’s not the real thing, no one knows how it actually looked liked.”

Giving one of the two necklaces to Neige, you continued. “Much like the rumored map, this one is a map of the city. It will show you different locations and what not. The catch to it however, is that you will have to figure out the locations yourself, once you do, a prize will be given. You have until the end of the week to figure it out.”

Idia takes the necklace you offered, yellow eyes looking it over with hidden curiosity. He no longer looked angry, which was a win for you. “It’s like a scavenger hunt?” Asked Neige. You nod, “You need to find the locations on the map, once you do, it will glow, meaning that the location has been found. It should be about ten locations each.”

“And the prize?” Idia mumbled, eyes still glued to the necklace. “Ah…about that, I don’t have a clue as to what it is.” This time, his yellow eyes trained on you, brows furrow. You smile nervously. “From what I heard, not a single person has been able to find the actual prize. Many get close but the last location is the one that no one is able to find.”

From what Eliott and Jules had told you, when they had been selected as the intruders during their first year, both had worked together in order to find all the locations. That had helped them cover most of their base in three days, letting them have the rest of the week to figure out where the last location was. Yet no matter how much either of them looked, they couldn’t figure it out. Even with Rollo’s help, both didn’t manage to finish the quest. 

It was the same for past students who were picked, not one was able to find the last location. 

“Huh…now that sounds interesting.” A sudden sharp smile appeared on Idia’s face as he began to giggle. You stare at him confused and a little worried. Neige didn’t seem affected by it, but he did share the same enthusiasm as Idia. More or less. 

“And people can help you with this right?” Asked Neige. “Yep, since the locations switch up every year, asking for the old ones won’t work but you can receive assistance.” Pointing at the little purple jewels on the string, you explain further. “No one is in charge of placing the locations. The ones who do are the stones here, I have no clue where they come from though. All I know is that they chose the locations and once you finish with it, you give it back to the Headmage.”

Idia hums, he runs his fingers through the small diamond beads. Neige does the same, though he looks more joyish that Idia, who still has that sharp smirk. You don’t question it nor do you point it out. This was better than having Idia panic.

Anyways, the important thing was that there was no more noise and the people with their horses could pass by without fearing that the horses would act out. Plus, Anna would be here with Rollo soon, though, looking at your outfit you grimace. You could feel your sweat sticking to the fabric of the outfit. You wanted to go take a quick shower and change to the school’s female uniform. The robes would be getting in your way, especially when you planned to walk around with Rollo for the day. And from the looks of it, the warm weather may get a bit more warmer. While you preferred pants over anything else, the skirt of the female uniform will allow for easy movement and it will keep you cool. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Anna to come back with Rollo. Standing up from your position, you greeted the third year. Without sparing a single glance at the two other boys, he made his way to you, a worried frown on his face. Grabbing your face in a gentle grip, he pulls you close. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. A little tired from the performance but nothing I can’t deal with.”

He still looked unconvinced, placing your hands on top of his own, you gave him a confident look. “Really, I am fine. Plus, I had Anna get you since Idia was panicking.” Gesturing towards the blue haired boy, who was too busy looking at the dreamcatcher necklace. “I managed to calm him down, but I didn’t want to leave them alone, especially when he is one of your guests.”

Sure, you could have asked one of the performers to stay with both Neige and Idia but you also felt a little guilty at scaring them. It would be better for you to wait and explain the situation than leave and let someone else deal with Idia’s outburst. Rollo sighs, annoyance clear in his green eyes as he looks at the smirking boy. “I heard he had tackled you.”

“Ah, yeah but I didn’t get hurt. He was just panicking and it’s understandable considering that he got taken away without any context.”

Rollo avoids your gaze at your pointed look. “...The hunters got there before I could explain.”

“Anna said that you gave them the ok to take two of the guests.”

“...”

Shaking your head, you sigh, a little smile on your face. It’s not like you could blame him for not telling them. Much to everyone's surprise (except you) Rollo tended to be a bit mischievous and just like any other teenager, he enjoyed pulling little pranks on others. Of course, he did this when no one was looking or when he knew it wouldn’t harm others. Most of the time, you helped him with it. 

Like last month, you had helped him get back at Eliott and Jules for teasing him. It had started with Rollo admitting that he had a fondness for banana milk. Both boys had teased him for a while, it was unexpected for someone like Rollo to like something so sweet. Rollo had enough of it at some point and with your help, both of you plotted how to get back at both of your friends. Till this day, Eliott and Jules both still have glitter in their hair.

“Ah, Rollo! I do apologize for the earlier outburst. It had taken us by surprise.” Neige spoke up, brown eyes on the both of you. Startled, Rollo pulled away from you and regarded the raven head boy with a nod. “Yes, I also apologize. I had intended to explain to you all the traditions we have here but I hadn’t made it on time.”

Idia snorted, yellow eyes casting a glare at the third year but didn’t comment anything. “It’s alright, you wanted to have the element of surprise.” Once again, you thanked Neige. He was doing his best to convince Idia that it had been all harmless fun. Though, Idia didn’t look very convinced  at all. Clearing his throat, Rollo gives them both a nod.

“Right, I will be taking you back to the group. They are waiting by the entrance of the battle arena.” He then turns to you. “Will you be joining us?”

“I will, I just need to take a quick shower and change my clothes.” Twirling in your jester outfit you show it off. “I don’t wanna walk around in this. Not that it is a bad outfit, but I am not used to dressing up like this.”

Halting, you fully look at the pale boy. His face was a little red from what you could tell. He was hiding his face behind his infamous purple handkerchief but you could see the tip of his ears turning red. “R-Right…then we will wait for you in the city.”

Nodding, you agree with him before turning your attention towards the two other boys. Both were staring at the two of you. Neige with a small soft smile and a knowing look in his eyes. Idia looked a little annoyed but also had a look of longing. You didn’t question it, whatever was going on was their own deal. “Then, I will join you all later!”

With a bow, you waved to them goodbye, then, without thinking much, pressed a chaste kiss on Rollo’s cheek. You left the stables without looking back, a silly smile decorating your lips.

#twst x reader #twst masquerade #twst nbc #twst rollo x reader #twst x y/n #twst wonderland #rollo flamm x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst rollo

[happy-hermit]

Mumscarian oneshot in honor of that beautiful reunion!! Scarland tour anyone? :)

( dedicated to @stiffyck )

Ao3 Link

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The sun was shining high in the sky above them following their hard-earned cinematic reunion, all of them talking over each other in excited babbles as they broke apart from their hug. Mumbo shifted restlessly in place, grinning so hard that it hurt, his heart fluttering in his chest and warming him from the inside out, like he’d captured the stars behind his ribcage. He wasn’t usually one for such mushy metaphors, but there wasn’t anything he could think of that would better describe it. There weren’t enough words in existence to correctly capture the feeling that came from being around them — from watching Scar’s green eyes sparkle in mischief and glee, from feeling Grian’s wings brush gently against his back as they finally settled down. It was too much to contain within the boundaries of language. He was fool enough to try. 

“You were gone for so long!” Scar said, voice almost a whine as he shook him by the shoulders. He was wearing his best puppy eyes, to which Mumbo had always been extremely susceptible. “Never leave again, please. Grian gets weird when you’re gone.”

Mumbo laughed a bit, removing Scar’s hands from his shoulder and capturing them in his own. He glanced at where Grian was standing to his left, trying and failing to appear nonchalant, and Mumbo raised a teasing eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard a bit about that,” Mumbo said conversationally, cracking a lopsided grin. “Something about a summoning circle? Maybe?”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” Grian said, scoffing and looking away, though his mouth was tugging upwards. Mumbo chuckled, dropping one of Scar’s hands in order to grab Grian by his sweater and pull him in closer to them. 

“You can admit you missed me,” Mumbo teased, as Grian squawked in surprise. “We just had a whole cinematic reunion, you— you can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Of course I missed you,” Grian grumbled, even as his wings curled around them subconsciously. Mumbo shared a fond look with Scar, which was cut off by Grian gesturing aggressively at Scar’s face and shooting a playfully accusing look at Mumbo. “You left me alone with him.”

“Oh, shush,” Mumbo said, still smiling. “You love him.”

“Well, yeah,” Grian said, easy as anything, and Scar beamed. “It’s just… not the same without you.”

Mumbo softened, slipping his hand into Grian’s and squeezing it a little, looking between him and Scar. They gazed back at him with loving eyes and happy little smiles, and Mumbo could stay in this moment forever and never get bored of it. 

“Yeah, I missed you, too,” he said eventually, trying to pretend that he wasn’t tearing up. “I missed a lot.”

“We’ll catch you up to speed,” Grian said, sounding for all the world like there was nothing he’d rather spend time on, even as he dryly gestured behind him. “You’ve seen my progress already. No need to view it from another angle, by the way.”

“No, of course not,” Mumbo said, nodding in faux seriousness. “This is— the only angle, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I appreciate it.”

“My base has lots of angles,” Scar said, bouncing a little on his toes. “Angles for days!”

“I actually haven’t seen your base, yet,” Mumbo said, the thought suddenly crossing his mind. It seemed rather urgent. “It’s— Your theme park, yeah?”

Scar made an excited noise and tugged rapidly on his hand. “I’ve been wanting to build it for forever.”

“The owner wouldn’t happen to be available to give a tour, would he?” Mumbo asked, cracking a sly grin.

“I’ll let him know it’s a special circumstance,” Scar said, eyes sparkling in delight as he answered. “I’m sure he can clear his busy schedule for such an esteemed guest.”

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” Grian said, his tone light and teasing. “There goes the rest of our day.”

“To a noble cause, Grian!” Scar exclaimed, already starting to pull Mumbo to the edge of the bridge. “Come on, Mumbo, we don’t need his negativity.”

“We kind of do,” Mumbo joked. “He’s got to keep us balanced.”

“If that’s your way of inviting me along, I think it needs some work.”

“I just got back!” Mumbo exclaimed, pulling out his best pleading eyes. “You wouldn’t want to break up the group again already.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Grian said, whacking him over the head with his wing. “Someone’s got to be the voice of reason.”

“We’re in trouble,” Scar stage-whispered, and Mumbo burst out laughing. It was really good to be back. 

Scar shoved an elytra at him and then immediately took it back to help him put it on, manhandling him into the thing with increasing excitement as Mumbo chuckled and Grian sighed fondly from the sidelines. At last, the wings were fastened to his back, and Scar grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the edge of the bridge. 

“It’s not a long flight,” Scar assured him, hastily shoving some rockets into his hand and reaching back to make sure Grian was following them. “And the castle’s not done yet, so don’t judge!”

“Castle?” Mumbo repeated faintly, and then had the pleasure of hearing Grian cackle as Scar yanked him unceremoniously into the sky. 

Mumbo flailed for a moment, yelping as the ground disappeared from under him and wind rushed past his face. But Scar was still holding tight to his wrist, and before long, he righted himself and was gliding gently. Scar let go of him with a bright laugh, and Mumbo looked over to see the man grinning back at him, eyes sparkling and hair blowing wildly in the wind as they flew. And maybe his heart skipped a beat, but Mumbo still shot him a playful glare and fired off a rocket, pulling ahead. 

Grian’s wild laugh signaled his approach from behind, and Mumbo looked up just in time for the avian to do a slow corkscrew above him, head tossed back to meet Mumbo’s eyes with a wide grin as he cut effortlessly through the air, bright-colored wings framed against the bright blue of the sky. He dropped down below Mumbo with a shout of glee, then dipped back upwards and spun, carefree and beautiful. Grian made flying look like an art. Mumbo could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. Love was a funny thing.

“Show off!” Scar shouted from behind, light and happy, and Grian just shot him a mischievous smile as he shot even higher into the sky. 

Mumbo shook his head in helpless amusement before turning his focus back to flying, eyes widening when he caught sight of the large silhouette of a structure in the distance. That definitely looked like a castle, or at least the start of one. The start of a very cool castle. The closer they got, the more details he could see, the landscaping beginning to form around it artfully. 

They landed in front of it, Scar tugging him into freefall with a giddy laugh, and they hit the ground a little roughly but nonetheless exciting. Grian was already there waiting on them, watching them with a grin and messy hair from the flight. The stone structure rose high behind him, and Mumbo craned his neck to look up at it.

“Oh,” Mumbo breathed, reaching out to touch the beautifully textured surface.

“It’s— Remember, it’s still a work in progress!” Scar said, and Mumbo turned to look at him, finding him flashing him a nervous little smile.

Warmth flooded Mumbo’s chest, as if the sun had made a home there. Except the sun was still in the sky, and what had really made a home was standing right in front of him, waiting on a harsh judgment that would never even cross his mind to give. 

“It’s amazing, Scar,” Mumbo said, stepping back from the wall and grabbing Scar’s hand with urgency. “I mean it. I don’t know how you do it.”

A faint dusting of pink spread on Scar’s face as his grin turned a bit more pleased, and Mumbo shared a fond look with Grian before turning and gently placing a kiss on Scar’s head. 

“Thank you,” Scar said, something beautifully vulnerable in his voice before he bounced back into excitement once more. “I can’t wait for you to see it when it’s finished! It’ll be even better, and— and the landscaping will be done, and—“ Scar shot him a mischievous smile. “And the back will be done.”

A wing came out of nowhere to smack Scar on the shoulder, and Scar wheeze-laughed at Grian’s grumpy expression. 

“Well that was unnecessary,” Grian noted, unable to hide the amusement in his tone, and Mumbo chuckled as they began to bicker back and forth, taking the moment to look around a bit more. 

The landscaping was as phenomenal as the castle, maybe even more so. Scar had always had a talent for scenery, for bending nature into something even more beautiful. The trees here were square and abstract, a stream running merrily along the side of the castle wall, and it altogether felt like stepping into another world, a better one. There was a natural bridge made of rock and grass stretching over a beautifully textured cove, and Mumbo could sit here all day and never get tired of it. Especially if Grian and Scar were there. 

“I love the trees,” Mumbo said, interrupting the bickering with practiced ease. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Scar’s entire face lit up as he rushed away from Grian, coming up to Mumbo’s side and grabbing his arm in glee, not seeming to realize he was doing it. “Well thank you! They’re actually based on…”

Scar started rambling about his inspirations as they walked across the landbridge, pointing out little details and secrets as they went. He stumbled over his words and his feet a few times in his excitement, but barreled on anyway, looking back to grin at Mumbo and Grian every now and then as they followed him. Sometimes he would forget a word altogether, lapsing into frustrated silence for a few seconds before Grian volunteered the answer. 

The conversation about the trees slowly transitioned into conversation about the flowers and the statue of Scar and Jellie, Scar praising Cleo’s work for a good few minutes before they finally moved on. Main Street was just as stunning as everything else, unique and yet complementary buildings rising high on either side of them as they walked. A trolley lazily meandered back and forth along a railway, pleasantly chiming bells ringing periodically. And—

And the sun was setting. Scar was pointing at a particular storefront and explaining the block palette, his eyes alight with joy and passion and happiness, bathed in golden light and standing next to Mumbo of all people, like there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

[ And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. ]

Mumbo distantly recognized that he had not been listening to a word Scar had said for quite a few minutes, instead just… staring. Watching with rapt attention as Scar put such love and light into everything he said, everything he built, everything he ever did. His chest burned with emotion, with overwhelming joy and happiness, and somewhere over Scar’s shoulder he could see Grian giving him a knowing little grin.

Something small and quiet and larger than life settled into his heart.

“Scar,” Mumbo said.

Scar turned to him, head tilted a little in anticipation for a question, and Mumbo pulled him in by the front of his shirt to kiss him squarely on the lips. Scar made a surprised noise in his throat, hands flailing before he realized what was happening and settled into it. Off to the side, Grian chuckled and sighed. 

They broke off the kiss when they were both smiling too hard to continue, and Mumbo got the distinct pleasure of seeing Scar’s face and ears turn red in pleased embarrassment. Mumbo just stood there and grinned like a loon.

“What was that for?” Scar asked, voice a bit higher than normal, hands still resting on Mumbo’s hips.

“For being you,” Mumbo said simply, softly. “For being someone I missed.”

Scar blinked, face softening into something warm and loving and maybe just a bit in awe. “Well I hope you don’t go around kissing everyone you missed like that.”

“Well. Only the pretty ones,” Mumbo said playfully, and Scar squawked in outrage as Grian burst out laughing, wings rustling behind him.

He’d spent a long time imagining what it would be like to be back. Countless hours planning the perfect reunion, the perfect scenario, the perfect angle and lighting and framing. And it would never come close to this: standing on the street laughing and bickering as the sun set behind them and time stretched as a blank canvas in front of them. Perfect.

#I LVOE THEM YOUR HONOR #i need to make them mushy and insufferably in love <3 #mumscarian #hermitshipping #hermitcraft s9 #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #mumbo jumbo #mumbo #grian #jay's journal #its a bit more focused on scar and mumbo honestly #but i'm not sorry AJDKSJD #j writes

[aparticularbandit]

Idk if you write yandere but if it is okay. Maybe yandere Claire and reader

Thank u

Rating: M for mature themes.

IDK if this is what you wanted, Nonnie, but I tried.

You first ran into Claire Debella during your junior year of college. Every now and again, a guest speaker would be called on for one of the upper level classes, and you'd come into college with a bunch of early credits, putting you well in range to take that class, even though you shouldn't have been able to take it until senior year. You'd thought, well, it would be nice to hear from people in the actual field more often than not and had set yourself up to take it once your junior year and once your senior year - perhaps more, if you could get your credits to align.

Claire was the first speaker, a Democrat from Connecticut on the campaign trail, stopping to encourage the next generation. To vote, primarily. Especially to vote for her.

Halfway through her speech, she asked a question, something tricky, and while she didn't call on you first, you were the one who had the correct answer. You'd seen it in her eyes then, the glimmer of approval followed by the gentle lift of her lips in the barest hint of a smile that she'd all too quickly suppressed as she continued speaking.

Afterwards, Claire stopped you. "No other student has ever answered that correctly."

"It wasn't hard," you said without thinking. "It follows logic and the patterns of the masses. Any intelligent person should have been able to come up with the answer." You smirked. "Eventually."

Claire gave you a look that you didn't notice and then one that you did, her arms crossing under her chest. "I have an opening on my team."

You glanced up at her. "An internship?"

"Paid."

Your brows raised.

"Experience on the campaign trail will do wonders for you," Claire continued, looking away from you. Or, as you realize later, pretending to do so, not wanting you to catch her at it.

You considered it. You wanted it. But--

"I can't," you said and hating yourself for saying it. "I can't miss that much school--"

"A mentorship, then." Claire's eyes flicked over to you, and as soon as you noticed her gaze, they trailed up to meet your eyes. "Zoom meetings on the trail, in person afterwards. How does that sound?"

You could arrange for that. You could make time. It would help you tremendously in the future, when you started looking for jobs after college, to say you'd been mentored by someone like Claire. Perhaps she would have that opening again next summer and you could be an intern then--

Then you gave her a slight nod. "Sounds good to me."

Claire smiled then, but you didn't notice the darkness in it until much later. "Any intelligent person would have come to that answer eventually." She met your eyes again hungrily. "We'll talk soon."

~

Claire had seemed like a normal mentor. Even more than that, she'd seemed normal over that summer when you did intern for her - and she paid you well above minimum wage, well above maybe what you should have been paid - but that hadn't seemed bad. Or wrong.

Sure, she'd never approved of any of your dates, and usually they broke up with you very, very shortly after being alone with her, but you never put two and two together until later.

Not until after you graduated.

Not until after she gave you a real job.

~

It's an event that maybe you shouldn't have been at.

No, you definitely shouldn't have been there, but Claire invited you. Said you were the best assistant she'd ever had and you deserved to go, so you had. Dressed your best, but still not quite enough to fit in with the other elites around you.

Claire rubbed shoulders with a lot of people given her influence, got invited to a lot of parties. This is just one of them - a birthday party for the not entirely well-esteemed Birdie Jay. Claire assured you she was just an old friend, but you're still not sure.

Still. Standing here among models and fashion elites, you feel...out of place. Like you shouldn't be here.

And it doesn't make you feel any better that Claire is conspicuously not paying you any attention. It's like...like she invited you, but she....

Maybe she hadn't really expected you to come.

So you end up at the open bar, drinking a little too much, feeling like Cinderella might have felt at the ball if she'd stayed past midnight, until one of Claire's other old friends - Jen Barkley, who you'd spent plenty of time with during your internship and who had frequently interrupted your Zoom meetings. Not always with very good reasons.

....

Actually, never with good reason.

If you're honest with yourself, you don't like Jen. But you're drunk, and she's...not quite drunk, actually, but close enough, and if you look at her in just the right light, she almost looks like Claire.

(You will never tell anyone that you find Claire attractive. At least not again. Your old roommate did not approve of your crush. You don't know what happened to her either. She just stopped talking to you after graduation. Which is odd because you'd thought you were really good friends.)

Which is how you end up in one of the hallways off of the main room with Jen's tongue down your throat, and to be honest, she's not that great of a kisser, but she's warm and she's there and you're definitely more than a little bit drunk and--

All of a sudden, Jen stops. You think about asking her why, but then you see the hand on her shoulder and Claire standing behind her with daggers for eyes. It doesn't matter that you're drunk; you swallow hard and find yourself saying, "Sorry, sorry, we shouldn't have," in a slur, avoiding Claire's eyes.

Claire's hand tenses on Jen's shoulder. "Jen, can I talk to you for a minute?" She guides Jen away from you, offers you something that looks halfway between a smile and halfway between bared teeth, and then says, "You should go on home. Drunk isn't a good look on you."

You bite your lower lip and nod.

Except.

You want to apologize to Claire again. You want to know that she isn't going to fire you for being so unprofessional. This might not be a professional event, but Claire invited you, and if you made her look bad, then....

This is why you don't drink at these sorts of things.

So you wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

And then people start leaving but Claire hasn't shown up again, and you're pretty certain that people can't leave down the hallway where you'd been with Jen, so Claire should be coming back this way. Or should have. And hasn't. Isn't.

Claire's your boss. You should probably go check and make sure she's okay. Not that Jen would do anything to her. Ew, gross, wait, maybe they're together and that's why Jen kept barging in on your Zoom streams while Claire was campaigning. Maybe Claire was mad at Jen because she shouldn't have been making out with you, she should have been with Claire--

All of this you think while you walk down the hallway, checking out every door you find, and then you think you see Claire, so you push open the door and--

Oh.

Oh.

"Claire?"

The room is dark, but you can tell that she's covered in something red and wet and shining, and you're drunk and really hope that isn't blood.

You also hope that isn't a body on the floor in front of her. Really hope that isn't Jen.

Claire turns to you. "You...weren't supposed to see this."

Suddenly, your heart starts beating faster. Claire just killed someone. Claire just killed someone and you walked in on it. Claire is going to kill you.

But before you can make it to the door, Claire is there, a hand on your wrist, and when you open your mouth to scream, she kisses you instead. You still scream, at first, but she muffles you, and then you kind of forget that you're supposed to be screaming because for all that Jen was a bad kisser, Claire is. well. wow. Before you know it, you're kissing her back, and then your hand is in her hair, and then her hair is sticky because blood, and then you're screaming again, but it doesn't last as long this time.

Claire parts just enough to say, "I'm not going to hurt you," and you hate it, but you're drunk, and you believe her. But that doesn't stop your heart from beating fast in your chest. She glares over her shoulder at the body. "Jen knew better than to touch you."

You should ask.

You swallow hard.

You don't ask.

#musings #bandit fic #bandit answers questions #anonymous #glass onion #claire debella #claire debella x reader #jen barkley #jennifer barkley #parks and rec

[numberonecameraman]

📢 Champions

When the Pokémon World Tournament happened a while ago, I was assigned to follow the contestants to get footage of them for the media. Never in my life have I met so many stuck-up, inconsiderate, and selfish people. I could talk about most of them for hours, so I’ll try to be brief.

Red was fine. He was extremely quiet, to the point he only said five words to me in almost a week of shadowing him. “Cool hat. I like it.” He also didn’t do much. He spent most of his days in the green room staring absentmindedly at a wall or playing with his Pokémon. Fine on paper, but the higher ups hated my footage since it wouldn’t make “good TV”. Not necessarily his fault but I associate the memory with him.

Blue… Imagine the most annoying teenager you’ve ever met times 10. I’m sure Blue could be a fine person in a vacuum, but since he was an “esteemed guest” at the PWT, he could essentially do whatever he wanted. I’ve never seen anyone eat as much as he did. He also loved being on camera. Every other second he would be pulling a stupid pose or asking me to record him during a practice battle. Just a pain to be around, overall.

Lance. The first words he said to me were, “Are you a fan of the Dragon Type?” That’s all he talked about to everyone and anyone he met for five days. Every second I spent with him was agony. The best part was when he challenged me to a battle right before he left and Laguna sweeped his team with Ice Beam, including his ““invincible”” Dragonite. Needless to say, he didn’t do as much bragging after that.

Steven is Lance with an off button. He loves rocks, he’s practically obsessed with them. The day we met he showed me his entire collection, which I have to admit was pretty cool. But after that, he rarely brought it up! He mostly kept to himself after that and even tried to have normal conversations with me. He also lives like a minimalist. He brought two bags to the event, one of which was entirely filled of duplicates of his standard suit. How he can afford those, I have no idea.

Wallace acted as though everywhere he went was the Nimbasa Music Theatre. Everything had to be a performance. Whether it was ordering food, talking to people, or signing autographs, every action was done with a dramatic flair. He also never stayed still for more than a few minutes. His catchphrase was, “You there [Me]! Let’s go someplace fun!”, even if it was 40 feet down the road. In his defense, a couple of them were pretty fun like the Marine Tube.

Cynthia and I seemed to share a “Let’s get this over with” attitude so we hit it off pretty well. However, despite getting along with her, I essentially became her answering machine. She would never make a decision without my input and it got old really fast. Her “body guard” Garchomp also took some getting used to. She’s a massive softie, but I think I still have rashes from her impromptu “hugs”.

I have mixed feelings on Alder. On one hand, he shot my dream of being Pokémon League Champion into the void. On the other hand, he seemed like a good person. He cared about my feelings and offered to talk with me about the Champion thing. Though that was more of a curse than a blessing. He loves to talk. A simple conversation about the weather can last up to 30 minutes. His jokes are terrible too. I want to like him, but never will.

Iris seemed like a repeat of the Blue situation at first. She was loud, bratty, and really irritating. But, as time went on, she calmed down and was genuinely fun to be around. She was incredibly mature but wasn’t afraid to be herself. Her team was awesome to see in battle too. If it weren’t for the horrendous first impression, she’d be my favorite Champion. Maybe I have a soft spot for kids.

That’s all the Champions I’ve met. I know there are others, but I can’t speak on them. From what I’ve seen, Diantha seems like a snob, the Alola League Champion is a boxer so I don’t know what to expect, Leon’s probably really stuck up, and I assume Geeta acts like my boss, which means I hate her by proxy.

#shouting into the void #rant post #long post #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #rotumblr #pkmn rp #pokemon rp #poketumblr #pokeblog roleplay #pkmn irl

[dusteebowl]

A rose by any other name

bless the server for giving me this idea.

pairing: wyllstarion

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

All things were abuzz in the Ravengard Manor at Baldur’s Gate. Servants were bustling about like bees of the forest, the sound of plates and various cutlery could be heard clankering away down in the kitchens as dishes were washed to perfection. Hells, even the birds seemed to twitter and flutter about with more vigour than usual.

The whole city was alight with excitable energy. For you see, the former duke’s estranged son and now present duke, Wyll Ravengard, was to be wed within the tenday. A most joyous occasion for all.

It was to take place at night, of course. As did all the social gatherings that occurred since Wyll Ravengard’s return. His intended had a certain sensitivity to the sun, they said. A most dreadful allergy. Then again there were more sinister claims that prowled through the streets. That his fiance was a creature most foul, with a thirst that could only be quenched by the vilest of drinks.

But now was not the time for such awful words. There was to be a wedding! And the sun filtered through the windows as though the gods themselves were elated. That’s what the maids said, at least.

Yes, all in Baldur’s Gate were excited. Elated even. All except one.

-0O0-

“…We’ve arranged for the city’s finest chefs to cook your favourite meal, my lord…”

“…500 guests…up to capacity…we’ll make it work…”

“…purple drapes over the windows…”

“My Lord, …a little light…?”

“No.”

The conversation that had floated through Astarion’s ears as he stared ahead were cut suddenly at Wyll’s uncharacteristically short and cold answer. The vampire snapped out of his reverie and looked at his future husband who now had a stern look on his face. They were in Wyll's office, which he'd moved to Astarion's wing. It had a large drape that covered any sun that could filter through and not a mirror could be seen.

“My fiance’s sensitivity is incredibly serious, Mrs. Greenwood. I’m afraid the most you can do is work with the light you’re given.”

“How can he even look at himself in the mirror in such dim lighting?”

Wyll gave the wood elf a stern look and she frowned. As Baldur’s Gate's most esteemed seamstress at nearly 500 years old, she’d seen it all. And she made sure to tell Wyll that every chance she got.

“I’m old enough to remember making your great-grandmother’s wedding gown. But this! This is just unprecedented, my lord.”

“Well consider it precedented now then, darling, hm?”

Everyone turned at Astarion’s quip and Wyll let out a snort after a moment. Until then, the normally talkative pale elf had said nothing.

“Excuse me?”

“An hour’s reprieve, yeah?” Wyll said. “I’m sure we could all use a break.”

The various servants in the office exploded in chatter again, desperately vying for his attention. “My lord but the drapes—”

“Chefs—!”

“Guests—!”

“Out!”

He had to push them all out, yes even Mrs. Greenwood herself much to her chagrin, before he shut the door behind him. There were muffled words on the other side, but they ceased after a minute or so.

“An hour’s reprieve!” Wyll yelled.

The sound of disgruntled footsteps fading away could be heard and when Astarion gave the final nod that they were well and truly gone, Wyll sighed and sat on the chair next to him before taking his hand.

“‘An hour’s reprieve’, hm?” Astarion asked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the one that was being tortured by Madame Prickly Pear.”

“Her name is Mrs. Greenwood, and I had my turn last week.” Astarion felt the fingers on his squeeze in a calming gesture, and he had to admit that it had brought some comfort. The familiar feeling of his husband-to-be's warm skin on his own brought him some form of peace. “You know, these last few days the servants have been crying for us like kittens waiting upon their mother. Drapes this, silverware that…I thought you’d be preening under the attention. Yet, do you know what I realised just a moment ago while all those servants scuttled about us while the seamstress was adjusting your wedding outfit?”

Astarion could only guess, but it didn’t matter because Wyll answered his own question.

“‘All that fuss and you only had one thing to say.’” He cocked his head and took his other hand in his own and looked at Astarion with concerned eyes. “So here I am, asking you…what’s wrong?”

Astarion looked away. Wyll was being so sincere. Too sincere. There was still some getting used to that. He didn’t even realise that his eyes slid back to where they were before while the seamstress was pricking at him.

But Wyll saw and he stood up to grab what had taken the elf so far away from him. They were papers that were littered about the desk, intricately lettered with golden calligraphy (Astarion said gold was his colour) with pictures of roses with thorns.

“The RSVP’s? Don’t tell me we invited someone you secretly hate?” Wyll joked. “Is Lady Muriel actually a siren you have a rivalry with? Or…Is Lady Andria a devil disguising themselves for political power? Or is it--”

“How long has it been?”

The duke stopped and looked at Astarion whose eyes seemed to be far away again.

“Weeks? Months?” the elf continued.

“Astarion?”

“We did all this planning. The wedding is next week, and it’s huge and everyone will be there.”

“Is this what this is about? The size of the wedding?” Wyll grabbed his hand gently. “We can make it smaller; invite a few friends. I’m sure the staff wouldn’t mind.”

“No, that’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about?”

“I don’t know!”

“You just said— ”

“I know what I just said. It’s just…so hard to explain, Wyll.”

There was a vulnerability in the way he whispered that last part. It was a rare moment of authenticity from the elf, and he didn’t know if he liked that he found it a lot easier to be that way these days or not.

Wyll put on a thoughtful expression. “Try me.”

Astarion laughed bitterly. Where could he even begin?

“Acunin.”

The word was barely above a whisper, but Wyll raised his eyebrow in slight confusion at the way he’d said it. Like it was poison.

The elf stepped off the tailor’s pedestal and grabbed one of the many envelopes that the duke was holding. “All these letters, addressed to Duke Wyll Ravengard…”

“…and Astarion Acunin,” Wyll finished with confusion.

“You do know the duke keeps records of all the comings and goings of his lands, did you not? Taxes, trades, that sort of thing.”

Astarion was scarily calm now, putting on a character as he tried to explain what pained him so. He knew Wyll didn’t like it, but old habits and all that.

“I’m aware.”

“So, you’d know there’s a registry of all the magistrates that served Baldur’s Gate? No? I don’t blame you. Made for a dreadfully boring read, really. Volo would be reduced to tears if he saw the first page.”

He tried to keep his voice steady; he really did. It took everything in him not to have his hands shake visibly, to have the extent of his distress known. But one look at Wyll told him his normal tricks didn’t work.

“What are you getting at, Astarion? Speak plainly.” Bless him, his words were of genuine care and concern.

Astarion took a deep breath.

“It’s Ancunin. With an N.”

There was a silence. The kind that was solemn and took place after a tragedy. The kind that made you want to drown.

 “Astarion, I’m so sorry. If I’d known…” He trailed off at Astarion’s expression.

“How could you have? I was the one who told you how to spell it.”

“Astarion—”

“Of course, you’d trust me with my name. Who doesn’t know how to spell their own name, after all? Even toddlers have that ability. I knew how to spell it. I…” He took a broken breath in and the way he said the next sentence chilled the air. “I should have known how to spell it.

“For two hundred years all I’ve had is my name.” Astarion shut his eyes. “I repeated it to myself whenever I could because it was the only thing he said I had. For Two hundred years… I— I treasured it.”

Wyll stepped closer and hesitantly placed his hand on his fiancé’s shoulder. The room suddenly felt a lot colder than it did a few minutes prior and the air felt heavy. After all this time that man still had this effect on the one he loved.

“All I had was my name.”

“We agreed that you can keep your name…or we can hyphenate it. You don’t have to take mine.”

Astarion shook his head and stepped away from his embrace. “No, this isn’t…that isn’t—” Words failed him, and he growled in frustration.  “We sent out those fucking letters with our names plastered all over them three months ago. The halls and party favours, hells even the napkins have this mistake I’ve been telling myself for two hundred years stitched into their very seams. Wherever vampires piss off to after this mess we call life he must be cackling at my torment.

“Two hundred years, and I forgot the spelling of my name. Two hundred years I repeated it, holding on to the man I was. But if I cannot remember the colour of my own eyes, the letters in my own name…” He paused and took a deep, despondent breath. “…what of me is left?”

It was only after Wyll collected him in his arms that Astarion realised that tears were falling from his eyes. His shoulders shook as he let go of the pain he’d been holding in since he made the discovery days ago.

His wails must have echoed down the hall, must have travelled to the ears of gossipy servants, but he didn’t care. Astarion just couldn’t bring himself to.

“You are left, Astarion,” Wyll said gently as he grasped more firmly onto him. “You are left. Perfect and whole and here. The man I fell in love with is not in those records. He isn’t some magistrate who serves the courts. He’s here, with me.”

“But I used to be so much.”

“And you are now so much more, my love.”

Gently, Wyll grasped Astarion’s face as he looked at him. “We have been through so much together. You grew and changed so drastically that the man I met in the grove and the man you are now are incredibly different. You have a future. A home. Friends who cherish you. A real family. And you have me.”

Astarion shook his head. “This doesn’t change anything. This doesn’t change that I forgot who I was.”

“So, what if it doesn’t? Is it so bad? To change?” Wyll wiped his tears away with his thumb and leaned in. “You have the opportunity of a lifetime. To reinvent yourself. To become someone new. To be who you want to be. To the hells with who you were before. That’s not who you are now.

“Not to mention,” he continued with a small teasing smile, “you’ll be getting married to a duke. Whatever interest you may have, whatever it is you want to pursue, I’ll do everything in my power to make that a reality for you. If it is the stars you want to grasp, I will get the smartest wizards I know to find out how. If you want to sail the seas, I shall commission the very best ship be built in your name. I love you, Astarion. Don’t you ever doubt that for a moment.”

Red eyes met as Astarion looked into Wyll’s eyes fully for the first time in the last few nights. He gently caressed the hand on his cheeks as the first real smile he’d made in days stretched across his lips. They met Wyll’s in a gentle kiss, one that was so chaste and innocent that it made for a very welcome change.

“You have a way with words that could turn the hearts of the gods themselves, darling,” Astarion said once they broke apart.

“Words only meant for you, I assure you, my love.”

Astarion chuckled. He was sure that if he were still alive, he'd be blushing. “I suppose, I do have one request. If I am to reinvent myself.”

“Anything.”

Astarion took a deep breath. “I do rather like the sound of Astarion Ravengard, don’t you?”

Wyll’s eyes widened in surprise for a spell, but then the brightest smile Astarion had ever seen appeared as he suddenly felt himself being picked up and spun effortlessly. “Astarion Ravengard. It’s like the sweetest melody to my ears.”

“We would have to tell the servants about the change.”

“500 napkins need to be redone.”

“The party favours need to be adjusted.”

“I’m sure if I paid more for a rush fee it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“We should let them know immediately if we are to pull this off.”

Wyll set Astarion down gracefully and bowed. “It would be my honour to make the necessary calls, Astarion Ravengard.”

Astarion took his hand. “Allow me to accompany you, darling. I couldn’t possibly let you do preparations yourself, can I?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

#wyllstarion #wyll ravengard #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #bg3 wyll #bg3 astarion