#navin x reader

[mihanisms]

hello, could i request how navin,samael and kenny behave around their fem!crush please?

content: interactions with a crushing! navin, samael, and kenny & your / their confession + sorry if this is unrealistic / ooc, this is my first time writing for homesick so please leave tips & thoughts in the comments!

Kenny

"hey did you hear this time when I-" "Kenny it's the 10th time you've told this." "I just want to tell you how cool it was :("

very protective, glares at gressil whenever he gets too close to you.

flirts constantly. it's either he's using cheesy pick-up lines every other sentence, or is in some sort of physical contact with you.

does that little wink finger gun pose whenever he sees you iykyk

actually, he's a bit afraid of outright confessing to you because of the actual commitment of the words and just prolongs it by doubling his flirting...so you end up confessing first!

"hey there, boyfriend." "hey th- huh?" "how was the supply run?" "good, but I- did you just call me-" "boyfriend? are you not?" "no? I mean I would like to but I thought I would be the one asking you-" "too late."

the one time he doesn't have any words to reply to you, his ears just go red and he awkwardly clears his throat as he nods

Navin

a golden retriever personified.

tries to be by your side whenever he can, tries to be friends before actively making any moves.

actually, scrap that, is he flirting or just being friendly? because he was definitely getting redder while he was staring at your lips, but accidentally blurted out to Tomoha that you felt like a sister to him when she was teasing that he had a crush

yeah he definitely messed that one up...he can't even face you now.

it's a small base, he'll be forced to face you again. but he has a plan this time.

(he messed it up the moment he saw you)

"heyijustwantedtosayilikeyoulikeasister" "?" "NOMGimeantilikedyoursister" "..." "..." "i like you too." "I LIKE Y- oh."

Samael

nonchalant. very. to the point where you're not even sure, did his hand just squeeze yours or was it just your imagination again?

it's actually not all that obvious because he himself is having a hard time figuring out his feelings for you

realizes over time it's a big, fat crush and gets embarrassed & tries his hardest to hide it, especially from Kenny.

works for a loong while until he slips up and Kenny sees him digging his fingers into his fingers after a short conversation with you (he wanted to talk longer)

"hey what are you doing?" "what do you mean?" "...your hands might bleed at this point?" "oh." "why would...wait." "no."

Kenny just walks away, whistling with his hands in his pockets while Sam's like that one cartoon character where their head explodes from embarrassment

he actually gets Kenny to (kind of) shut up about it because he wanted to confess on his own terms

and he does, a quiet but blatant, "i like you."

"what?" "...i like you." "WHAT." "i like you." "HUH?" "...I'm not repeating myself." "i...like you too."

his turn to get flustered ... :3

[solacesolarium]

Falling Failing for you

Pairing: Prince Trellis x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Summary: A few months before the hunt for Emily Hayes, a rogue stone keeper was detected to be roaming about. The Elf King has sent his son, Prince Trellis, to find them; but yet again, he fails his mission and takes matters into his own hands.

ABBR: Y/n (your name)

———————————-

A/N: Just humouring a friend w this fic, this character is from an old (completed) series by Kazu Kibuishi called Amulet (worth the read!!)

———————————-

Trellis trudged on walking through the bog, the sounds of sloshing water and animal cries drowned out by the rush of adrenaline in his ears as he reminisced about his mission.

————

A dim castle, full of elves part for their prince as he enters the throne room. The kings right hand man, Luger, sneers at the sight. The prince kneels before the king.

“There have been sightings of a new stone keeper, and he threatens the rule of our kingdoms,” boomed the masked king. “He could be of great use as a pawn if we could get our hands on his stone.”

Trellis’ eyes did not meet the mask on his fathers face. Instead, he waited, listening patiently for his next orders, frowning slightly at the pause in the kings voice.

“Find the stone keeper… and bring him to me, dead or alive,” he ordered.

“Yes father,” replied Trellis.

“Don’t fail me,” threatened the king.

————

“Where is the keeper now?” he asked to himself, looking down at his chest where a stone rested on a rope around his neck.

His amulet shone a soft blue, as it replied in whispers, “go up the stream, where the trees part is a field, there lies what you seek.”

Grunting, Trellis made his way up until the foliage started to disappear.

Where it was previously dark and muddy, now all he could see was clear skies and a vast open field of flowers. The horizon met with a cliff that caressed the sun as it rose, it’s light yellow hues framing the figure of a human girl.

His amulet began to glow, hovering in the direction of the girl.

“The stone keeper awaits your presence” it said.

“It’s just a girl” replied Trellis. His voice was laced in confusion. You looked harmless, how could you pose a threat to the Elves?

Seemingly unaware of what was going to happen, you sat down in the field. Your hair flying in the wind as the flowers danced around you.

You looked so fragile, compared to Trellis’ build, you didn’t look like you could put up a fight. It made him hesitate.

Drawing his sword, he cautiously took a few steps towards you. You whipped your head around towards him. You didn’t look surprised at all. Instead, you had a sad smile on your face, accepting his presence.

Trellis froze as he watched you get up and dust yourself off. Meeting his gaze you pursed your lips.

“I just thought, y’know, if I was gonna die, I’d at least want to be somewhere nice,” you said softly.

He took a step forward, almost towering over you. You looked so meek. He didn’t understand how you could possibly take down the Elves, let alone him.

“I’m not here to kill you,” he said. Distrust was apparent on your features. “Rather, I’d like your help to take down my father, the Elf King,” he said.

You scoffed, “sorry, but I’d rather not”. Taking a step back you distanced yourself from him.

You knew who he was, and you thought you knew why he came here. Why would the prince do such a thing? It’d be an act of treason!

There’s no way any of this was true, or so you thought.

Just as the sun reached its peak, the wind stopped briefly. A dark shadow cast upon Trellis’s face as it engulfed the ground around him.

Your eyes widened as you turned around, a powerful gust blowing your hair back.

“DUCK!” you yelled before grabbing Trellis by the hand and crouching.

A pack of flying beasts were making their way above the two of you, searching for food. There were about fifty, but their speed made it hard to count. All you could hear was the rustling of leaves and clicking of talons as they lunged towards the two of you.

Ignoring the thumping of your heart, you turn to the man next to you, “look, I can ward them off but I can’t focus on protecting you Mister Prince,” you said with a huff.

“I’ve got my own back, so don’t have me lugging your weight around” he scoffed.

Giving him a playful smirk, you get up. Sighing, you release the tension in your shoulders as you feel the magic from your amulet leave you.

You can hear the prince getting up to help you, but all you could do was focus your energy on the beasts circling above the two of you.

Grabbing a large branch off the ground, you slam it down, one end touching the grass, the other pointing towards the sky.

A blinding light shot out of the top of the branch, causing you to close your eyes, relaxing completely.

Trellis used his hand to shade his eyes as he watched you in awe. Even in battle you looked so peaceful. You wove your magic like a long lost friend, so kind and soft, unlike his rough and angry nature.

The warmth from your spell had him lulling to relax his body as well, closing his eyes just as you had a moment ago. Your strength came from how you wielded you magic. It was so clear to him now. You were different.

As the light started to disappear, he felt himself yearning for the warmth you released as your magic returned to you. Dropping the stick you had used as a staff, ash fell around the two of you.

“You incinerated the beasts,” he said in shock as he looked around.

Your hand twitched, “are you alright Mister Prince?” you asked, ignoring his comment.

He grunted in response, as he propped his arm up on his knee, still seated in the grass.

You awkwardly stood there, looking down at him as he studied your face. As you caught his gaze, he couldn’t help the blush that started to form as he averted your eyes.

Sitting down beside him, you couldn’t hold the giggles that bubbled up.

“You’re Strange Mister Prince,” you chuckled.

“Please stop calling me that, my name is Trellis,” he groaned.

Combing your hand through your hair, you smiled at him.

“Well, Trellis it’s a pleasure to meet you.

It was when you smiled at him, that he realized, no— knew, that he didn’t want to risk it. He’ll find another stone keeper to help him. Not you.

He would rather fail his mission for you.

———————————————————————

A/N: does this fandom even exist

[lycienne]

Owen Corley/ Corvus Headcanons

- Cyphers usually start their training pretty early, because untreated "Anthem-sensitivity" can cause mental problems later in life

- The training however isn't cheap, so Corvus (among other institutions) gives out scholarships to talented Cyphers

- Those Cyphers have to work for Corvus after finishing their training, and are usually indoctrinated from a young age into even dying for Corvus if a mission requires it (this is also true for non-Cypher Corvus agents)

- As an example, the Corvus agent from the first Monitor mission knew she was going to die from the moment she got the mission from her superior, and she still went without hesitation, as the real goal Corvus was striving for was to lurk the Monitor out of hiding

- Owen had one of those scholarships, as his family was too poor to afford him any training at all

- Another perk was that Corvus managed to get his mother out of prison, which Owen only learned years later

- The first time Owen and the Freelancer met (when he was trying to steal from her) was completely by accident, the second time (after she survived the Heart of Rage) wasn't

- Corvus send spies/ undercover agents to "befriend" every Heart of Rage survivor to get more Intel that "official" questionings might have missed

- Owen was sent after the Freelancer after he mentioned the week he already spent with her, making him easier to trust for her

- The ploy worked and he ended up as her Cypher shortly after reconnecting with her

- Owen did not plan to actually become friends (or even worse, fall in love) with the Freelancer, it just happened

- He was nearly ready to plow his cover when Tassyn showed up

- It was a coincidence that "his" Freelancer became the one to track down the Monitor, as previously mentioned, Corvus kept I track of all Heart of Rage survivors (Tassyn even mentions that in the bar cutscene)

- Tassyn is of course higher up at Corvus than Owen, who is merely an agent paying off his dept

- Side headcanon: You don't ever leave Corvus, you either die of natural causes or in an "accident"

- Owen knew way earlier than the Freelancer that Tassyn only came because of Faye's tip, which is part of the reason he can't stand Faye

- He blames her for setting the wheels in motion to destroy the friendship (and possible relationship) with "his" Freelancer, as any other Heart of Rage survivor could have done the same, hell even any other "ordinary" Freelancer could have done the trials

- Owen hated himself for feeling and acting so unprofessional, but he couldn't help it

- It was Tassyn acting as Owen superior who ordered him to steal the Javelin of Dawn for Corvus research purposes and, if the opportunity presented itself, getting close to the Monitor for further intel

- Owen didn't like his mission in the slightest, but as a Corvus agent he had to follow orders without hesitation

- The way Owen acted when paralyzing the Freelancer and stealing the Javelin of Dawn/ when saving Haluk is his actual "Corvus-self" as opposed to his normal persona

- Please note that Owen's "Corvus-self" is not the same as Leytons' Dominion programming, it's just run of the mill agent training

- When he first went to the Monitor with the Javelin of Dawn, Owen fully expected to die

- Owen desperately wanted to confess everything to the Freelancer when he was apologizing, but was afraid she wouldn't believe his feelings were genuine if she knew the truth

- (because the "agent pretends to like his target and does actually end up liking/ loving her for real" is a nice trope in fiction, but wouldn't really work in real life)

- Owen sometimes wishes the Monitor actually had killed him so he wouldn't have to life with the guilt of betraying his loved one

- Owen can still somewhat see through the Anthem, but it's more like we see through heat sensitive cameras (however they are called, idk) since the Anthem = raw energy = heat

- After apologizing to the Freelancer Owen returns to Corvus headquarters to deliver the Javelin, and he's ordered to stay low

- Owen ends up being monitored himself after that, since there's a chance he'll try to reach the Freelancer after all, and possibly spill other sensitive intel to her

- Side headcanon: If Owen could choose any Javelin for himself, he would pick an Inceptor, since he'd prefer flying fast and doing cool stunts over actual fighting

- His biggest wish is to escape Corvus and make a life of his own, but he knows that's realistically not possible, and even if he tried to do so, he'd have to look over his shoulder the rest of his life as Corvus would hunt him down

- Even worse, Corvus would hunt down the Freelancer and every other person he's ever been friendly with just because they're now a security risk

- Sometimes, when Owen is really depressed, he wishes his father would have killed him or that he had never been born at all

- His dream job would be searching artifacts for arcanists, as he gets to have all the fun and adventure of exploring Bastion and its ruins while also getting paid for it

PS: I got all these headcanons after the last in-game conversation with Tassyn, who says that among other things, Corvus agents have to be willing to be seen as traitors in the eyes of others if it serves the organization. I always found this addition a bit odd in the context of the conversation, especially since Owen gets called a traitor a lot before that, so here we are.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

AHHH HIHII!! i luv ur work it literally has me twirling my hair and shi, i was wondering if u could write a neteyam x navin reader where the reader is like playing with tuk and neteyam realizes he was in love with reader on the spot the whole time and he could imagine like a future with the reader aswell?? TYSM I LOVE UR WRITING SM

Something About You

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Crush Blush, Longing Look, Tuk is The Best Wingman, Good With Kids

Warnings: None

One afternoon, Neteyam had to watch over his youngest sister. You insisted on accompanying him, and he agreed, not minding the extra help. As you played with Tuk, the thought crossed Neteyam's mind that suddenly, you might just be the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

EIOEWGHOEH EVERYTIME I SEE ASKS LIKE THIS I START GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET LMAOO 😭😭 this idea is super lovely, and tysm for the support, happy new years btw ♥♥ also if u look at the title, I based it off the eyedress song 🤭 italics are Neteyam’s thoughts btw!!

* ˚ ✦ 1075 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [01/01/23] ❞  

Neteyam sighed as he followed you and his sister. His parents had requested him to watch after her today, and you had overheard their chat. You asked Neteyam if you could accompany him because you enjoyed playing with Tuk, and he concurred. He's never been sure what his little sister liked to do, so your assistance was greatly appreciated.

Tuk squeezed your hand as you guided her towards the woods. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the foliage was soaking up the warmth. The trees were golden in hue, and you eventually found a large expanse of grass for you and Tuk to romp in.

Neteyam selected a tree to relax against, and settled comfortably while you and Tuk traveled only a little further away. He looked at you both, laughing and spinning around the woodland.

Neteyam was frightened for a moment and nearly leapt out of his seat when you lifted up Tuk to toss her into the air, but he calmed down when he saw how effortlessly you retrieved her again. He cannot help but be concerned about his siblings' welfare, but he knows you're excellent with children. You'd never do anything that would harm them.

Tuk's laugh resonated through the treetops as she pleaded with you to throw her again. She appeared to be having fun, but you suddenly realized that Neteyam must be bored sitting alone and observing.

You caught Tuk once more and gently lowered her on the grass. “Neteyam, why don’t you come here and play with us?”

He shook his head, and smiled. “I’m okay.”

You shrugged, and continued to play with his little sister.

...

You ultimately grew tired of tossing Tuk into the air, so you devised a brilliant plan.

“Tuk, why don’t I decorate your braids?”

She seemed perplexed for a moment, before you clarified that you were going to pick out some flowers to put in her hair. Her eyes sparkled at the thought, and she, of course, answered yes.

Tuk was seated in your lap as you meticulously ornamented her braids with an assortment of various, colorful flowers you had gathered. Neteyam maintained his gaze from a distance, and he began to grin to himself. He thought to himself that you were wonderful with kids, and his smile only grew even wider when Tuk gazed into her reflection in a nearby waterhole.

She giggled with delight at her enhanced appearance. “Thank you so much Y/N!”

Because she was so adorable, you pinched her cheeks.

Tuk scrunched up her nose, recoiling from the action. “Let me put flowers in your braids too!”

You agreed with a nod and sat down in front of her. You failed to notice Neteyam's intense stare at you as Tuk adorned your tresses with the leftover blossoms. The sunlight cascaded over you so sweetly that you gleamed like a gift from Eywa herself. Neteyam couldn't believe he'd never noted how stunning you were, and the feeling was further accentuated by the flowers in your hair. He massaged his burning cheeks with his palm; was he blushing?

Tuk's amusement at using you as her personal doll unabated, and the one idea orbiting Neteyam's short-circuiting mind, aside from how you looked straight out of his dreams, was how natural you were with children. Would you behave similarly with your children together, too?

Wait, what?

He had to mentally scold himself for thinking such a thing. Even though it felt improper to envisage it with you because you were only a friend, he couldn't peel the gaze of burning desire away from you. His brain begged him to suppress these feelings, but his heart and blazing cheeks revealed a different story.

His heart stopped. When you decided to turn around, you met his eyes that refused to look away. Neteyam sucked in a breath, fearful for a moment that you could see into his thoughts. He released a sigh of relief as you merely cracked a smile towards him, not knowing how he was really staring at you.

Then another terrifying thought had crossed his mind. Had he always liked you?

You veered away from Tuk to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the waterhole as Neteyam battled with himself internally. You clasped your hands together, praising Tuk on her work, and hugged her warmly. She was scooped up again and twirled around.

You sidled up to Neteyam after you had laid Tuk down, scratching the back of your neck. The sunshine from behind your figure seeped into his vision as he stared up at you through his thick lashes. He didn't mind that he could only see you.

You looked at him sheepishly. “How do I look?”

He snapped out of his reverie, and stuttered for a moment before registering that you asked him a question.

“So pretty.”

As you looked straight at him stupidly, he threw his palm over his mouth. You were both matching blushes as you were suddenly feeling blisteringly hot. Tuk giggled from behind you, her eyes narrowed at her brother.

It didn't help that she was whispering 'Neteyam's got a cruushh...'

Damn that child.

You turned around to hear what she said, and out of your peripheral vision, Neteyam lifted his fist at her, mouthing for her to quit speaking. When your gaze met hers you arched an eyebrow, but she had already closed her mouth and remained serious. She cracked an innocent smile at you.

You looked back at Neteyam, and decided that all of a sudden you had very, very important obligations to attend to at that moment.

“Well, I think I should get home now, haha!”

Neteyam stood up abruptly, laughing nervously. He was chanting in his head to speak confidently.

He stuttered instead. “Oh, me too, haha! Me and Tuk should be meeting with our parents again.”

You couldn't stop giggling uncontrollably like idiots, and while you were heading in opposite directions, you unintentionally bonked heads. He groaned in pain as he touched the tender region on his forehead, but apologized profusely when he noticed that you were also afflicted.

You couldn't bear how mortified you were, so you let out a torrent of apologies and hurried out of the woodland as swiftly as you could. You couldn't believe Neteyam had declared you were pretty!

In your wake, you left behind a trail of flowers. Neteyam discreetly grabbed and pocketed one. You know, for safekeeping.

There was just something about you.

[the-new-fandom-order]

Something Sweet {Epilogue}

Author: Zoe

(A/N: Final chapter out of nowhere, I know! I’ve had so much fun writing this fic, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!)

Head Chef! Obi-Wan x Pastry Chef! Reader

Plot Summary: When Qui-Gon hires a new pastry chef for his dessert menu, Obi-Wan feels a slight sense of competition. Who do you think you are, just waltzing into his kitchen? He's been running it for years, it doesn't need to change. But, as time progresses, he realizes the sour beginning the two of you had is starting to turn into something sweet.

A month of smooth sailing in the kitchen.

A perfect balance of work and fun was ever-present since that fateful first date. Other coworkers would tease you and him, some even thanking you for being the reason Obi-Wan became less callous.

The balance was enjoyable, until one day, Obi-Wan comes to the kitchen, expecting a greeting, only to be met with worrisome mumbles.

"What's going on?" Obi-Wan asks, kissing your temple."I have the envelope." Qui-Gon states, coming up to him, as the kitchen grows silent. "Our Michelin results."

"...You're positive?" Obi-Wan gulps, his hand instinctively finding yours.

"I am. I was waiting on everyone to arrive, you came just in time." Qui-Gon's jaw tightens as the envelope opens, everyone watching him with bated breath.

"...To the staff of La Forcè." He starts, the kitchen's atmosphere growing heavy. "With heavy critiques and diligent observation by our critics, we have come to our final decision regarding your Michelin ranking.

"Qui-Gon's face slowly turns to a prideful smile. "We are pleased to inform you that with your exceptional customer service, wines, menus, appetizers, entrees, and desserts, Michelin will grant you your first Michelin star. You will be featured in our guidebooks, as well as Michelin's official listing of restaurants."You cover your mouth, grinning.

"...We did it." Obi-Wan breathes out, his voice immediately growing louder. "We did it!"The kitchen bursts into loud cheers and congratulations, everyone huddling together and laughing. Obi-Wan pulls on your arm, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you in for an adrenaline-rushed kiss.

You grin against his lips, as he kisses your forehead and pulls back.

"This is just one out of three stars." Obi-Wan calls out. "We still have a ways to go. The restaurant will become much busier in the upcoming month, and we have to work harder than ever to even be considered for a second and third star. Got it?"

The kitchen nods, smiles plastered on everyone's faces.

"Then why are you standing around?" He claps suddenly. "Everyone to your stations! Skywalker, proteins! Tarallo, prep work! Navin, soups and sauces!"

"Yes, chef!" The kitchen shouts, more fired up than ever.

"And as for you, Chef Y/L/N…" He moves to take your hand. "Get started on the desserts."

"Yes, chef." You respond happily, kissing him before tying your hair up into a bun and getting to work.

[the-new-fandom-order]

Something Sweet {Part IX}

Author: Zoe

(A/N: Done and dusted! Sorry I haven’t posted the story in so long!)

Head Chef! Obi-Wan x Pastry Chef! Reader

Plot Summary: When Qui-Gon hires a new pastry chef for his dessert menu, Obi-Wan feels a slight sense of competition. Who do you think you are, just waltzing into his kitchen? He’s been running it for years, it doesn’t need to change. But, as time progresses, he realizes the sour beginning the two of you had is starting to turn into something sweet.

“I’m done on dessert prep, who needs help?” You dusted the flour off of your hands as one of the chefs, Navin, flagged you over to help him dice some vegetables. Obi-Wan busied himself with working the sous vide, delegating from the station.

“Skywalker, check in with Tarallo, he’s on proteins, Forin, go to Ms. Tano and get the shipment of white cooking wine from her, we’re running low.” He called, finishing his prep work on the Cassoulets for the night. “Dinner rush is starting soon, we’ve got about five minutes!”

“Wait!” You called out to Forin, just before he left. “Get some orange liqueur syrup as well, we’re doing Savarin tonight.”

“Did you need help after prep for me is done?” Tarallo asked, the flames from his pan rising.

“Definitely. My prep is done but I need help once dessert orders start coming in.”

Tarallo nodded as Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, before shaking his head and returning to his other station for soups.

Chef Kenobi, for a split second, glanced up at you while you and Tarallo chattered, laughing while you blowtorched your crème brûlée and he continued whisking the egg whites for meringues.

“So, how’s Evie doing?” You asked, sliding the desserts for serving.

“Really good…” He trailed off, before whispering to you and Obi-Wan tried to lean in to hear.

“Y/N, please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“What? What’s going on?”

Tarallo grinned to himself, leaning closer to your ear. “I’m gonna propose next week. I’m gonna take her to that park we used to play at when we were kids.”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” You turned to him and gave him a hug, grinning. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Tarallo laughed, pulling back. “Yeah, I’m super nervous.”

“Shut up, Evie loves you! She’s bound to say yes.”

“I know, I know, but it’s still fucking terrifying.” He sighed. “Actually, the reason I’m telling you this is because I want to ask you a favor.”

“Oh, of course. What is it?”

“I’m doing a surprise party for her, on our anniversary, and I was hoping you’d be willing to bake the cake for it.”

You sighed, smiling. “Is that all? I’ll do it, no problem!”

“Ugh, Y/N, thank you so mu-”

“We need Coq au vin for Table 24!” A waitress called, as you chuckled.

“Save the thanks for later, let’s get back to work, alright?” What you failed to notice was Chef Kenobi’s eyes boring into Tarallo’s backside like knives into the poor man’s back.

Obi-Wan had no idea why he felt so strange all of a sudden. He just assumed that it just must be the fuzzy feeling you get after solving another conflict. But it didn’t explain why he was so upset with Chef Tarallo all of a sudden. He knew the man was with Evie for years anyway.

It wasn’t until you told him of the situation that he felt any better. It wasn’t until you asked him for help on the anniversary cake that he completely forgot about it altogether.

“Ooooo! You were jealous!” You teased, while Obi-Wan pushed your forearm lightly.

“I was not! God, is this what it’s like being friends with you?” He chuckled.

You shrugged, wiping some powdered sugar off your hands using his sleeve. “You chose to make amends, this is what you’re stuck with.”

Obi-Wan froze, before flicking a wooden spoon dipped in chocolate at you, leaving a streak across your jacket. “Have you always been this childish?”

You gasped, furrowing your brows and flicking a good amount of flour onto his hair. “No, absolutely not. Childish? Where’d you get that idea?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, your gazes meeting before you both glanced at the ingredients on the counter.

Obi-Wan bolted past to get to the flour while you went for the bowl of chocolate. “Kenobi, don’t you dare!”

“You’re the one that started it, chef.” He replied smugly, tossing a bit of flour at you, the powder sticking to the still-wet chocolate.

You laughed, managing to land a few good streaks of chocolate along his uniform. “I thought you were the head chef! All-powerful and professional, too good for this kind of nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense if I win!” He grinned, picking up the bowl of white chocolate and chuckling when he saw you run past him. “You’re not getting out of this!”

Qui-Gon walked in on you and Chef Kenobi carefully placing your uniforms in a plastic bag, chocolates and powders still gracing your hands and hair.

He snickered when the both of you tried to explain why the clothes had all of a sudden became so dirty. “Next time you have a food fight, make sure your uniforms don’t take the brunt of it.”

[the-new-fandom-order]

Something Sweet {Part II}

Author: Zoe

(A/N: Been watching a lot of foodie movies lately. Also a lot of Masterchef and Kitchen Nightmares!)

Head Chef! Obi-Wan x Pastry Chef! Reader

Plot Summary: When Qui-Gon hires a new pastry chef for his dessert menu, Obi-Wan feels a slight sense of competition. Who do you think you are, just waltzing into his kitchen? He’s been running it for years, it doesn’t need to change. But, as time progresses, he realizes the sour beginning the two of you had is starting to turn into something sweet.

“Hello? Mr. Jinn?” You walked into the restaurant the next morning, your apron tied around your waist and pulling along your baking tools. Rolling pins, whisks, cake leveler, icing tips, icing bags, everything you ever need inside your case rolling behind you.

Qui-Gon stood up, exiting his office and shaking your hand with a warm smile. “You must be Y/N. Anakin mentioned you were interested in the job?”

You nodded, glancing to your tools. “Yes, I recently left my job working over at Supernova Sweets, do you know the place?”

“Ah, yes, I’ve tasted your pastries before. Quite extraordinary.”

“That’s high praise, thank you so much.” You smiled, as Qui-Gon gestured for you to follow him.

“We haven’t had any applicants other than you. How qualified are you?”

You followed him back into the kitchen, feeling the chefs staring, but continuing with your conversation. “I’ve been baking since I was very young, took culinary classes in middle school and high school, before graduating from The French Pastry School in Chicago. I’ve worked in various bakeries and I do have restaurant experience.”

“High credentials. Well, we need a pastry chef, and we need it fast, so you’ve got the job. I’ve tasted your desserts before and I have no doubt you’ll be a great asset to our staff.” He waved over a blonde man who was cleaning the stove, stopping and walking over to the counter where you were. “Chef Y/L/N, this Chef Kenobi. He’s our head chef, and he’ll show you how things run around here.”

“Of course, thank you, Mr. Jinn.” Qui-Gon nodded and left the kitchen, leaving you, Chef Kenobi, and two other chefs in the kitchen prepping for the day.

“You’re the pastry chef?” Obi-Wan began, crossing his arms as he approached you.

You nodded, setting your bag down. “Yes. Obi-Wan Kenobi, right?”

He nodded. “That’s my name, but in this kitchen, you’ll call me Chef Kenobi. Is that clear, Y/L/N?”

You raised your brows, but nodded your head. “Crystal clear, Chef Kenobi.”

“Good. I’ve been running my kitchen a certain way for years, I don’t plan on changing it.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Chef Kenobi, I’m being hired for a reason. I am here to help, so it would be nice if you could make the environment a little more welcoming.”

“It’s not my job to hold your hand in this kitchen. It’s my job to cook and direct. And that doesn’t mean you are out of my jurisdiction. I can bake just as well as you can, you’re only here because Qui-Gon hired you.”

You clenched your fists, looking up at him. “Hey. I came here because I wanted to help. I saw your ratings in the paper. I’m qualified, I’m skilled, and I am not going to let some stick in the mud try and strip me of that. I specialize in what I do, I strive for the best at what I do. I don’t care if it doesn’t satisfy you, I only care if it satisfies the customers.”

Obi-Wan rolled up his sleeves, leaning down slightly to your level. “We’ll see, chef.” He stood up straight, hands on his hips as he turned to the kitchen. “Okay, we open in two hours, I need everyone on prep, that includes wait staff! Go set up the tables. Skywalker, you’re on sauce duty. Tarallo, you’re on sous vide. Forin, start on vegetable dicing, Navin, start chopping fruit. As for you, Y/L/N,” He took a rag from behind you and tossed it at you. “Start on those pastries.”

You growled, putting the towel over your shoulder and turning to the counter. “Yes, chef.”

“Two tiramisus, a canelé and a crème brûlée for table 25!” The expediter yelled out as you immediately grabbed your custards and prepped tiramisu.

“Time to prove yourself, Y/L/N.” Chef Kenobi spoke, as you furrowed your brows and waved him off. You didn’t have time for his sass right now.

“Can someone get my blowtorch, please?” You called out into the kitchen as Anakin rushed over, passing it off to you before running back to the salmon he was searing. You fired it up, setting the heat to a blue flame as you leaned over your crème brûlée and caramelizing the top, before slicing a strawberry and placing it on top as a garnish.

You showered the tiramisus in a cocoa and coffee powder and set it aside, moving onto the canelé as you got ready to drench it in brandy and vanilla before Chef Kenobi stopped you. “What are you doing?”

“Making a canelé? The hell does it look like I’m doing?”

“Canelés are flavored with rum, why do you have brandy out?”

“The brandy brings out the caramelization better than the rum does!” The staff grew quiet as the argument began, pots and pans replacing voices.

“No! Rum is traditional, we stick with traditional!”

“We can’t use rum with this kind of vanilla bean! Rum is from sugarcane, adding a Mexican vanilla bean will only make it sting the taste buds!”

“We have used the same recipe ever since I’ve been working here, I don’t want you waltzing in and tearing apart an important foundation in my kitchen!”

You slammed your towel down on the counter, pushing your index finger into the center of his chest. “I don’t appreciate being treated like this. Not on my first day, especially not when I’m here to help fix the weak spots in your kitchen!”

“I am the head chef. You will listen to what I say. In here, we follow the recipe. I don’t care for experimentation when I’m trying to run a smooth operation. You are a pastry chef. Not Nigella Lawson, not Mary Berry. You follow the recipe, whether you like it or not.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, before shoving past him and covering the canelé in a brandy and vanilla bean reduction before placing it in the heating rack.

You ran and grabbed the tiramisus from the other side, sliding it onto the waiter’s tray and grabbing the canelé from the heating rack. The crème brûlée was placed last before you sent him off, exhaling and wiping the sweat from your forehead before returning to making your blackberry reduction for the fruit tarts.

Chef Kenobi scowled, pointing a wooden spoon at you. “You are not going to be the downfall of what I worked so hard to build just because you want to do things your way.”

Before you could retort, the waiter burst back into the kitchen with a grin on his face. “Chef Y/L/N!”

You and Obi-Wan both looked over to him. “Yes?” You asked.

“The desserts! They loved it!”

You grinned, tossing your towel over your shoulder and giving a pointed glance at Chef Kenobi, who was rubbing his brow. “Downfall? Maybe it’s due time for change in this kitchen.”

“We have orders for three more canelés!” A waitress called out, as you finally stepped away from Obi-Wan and got to work on the desserts while the kitchen staffs' voices grew louder once more.