#the chef assumed one

[atinydragon]

Rat Manor: New Friend

The rat’s first food run is cut short. So Sam decides to try it her way. She ends up in a messy situation.

[masterlist]

(contains some grossness)

Sam whooped as she jumped past the last two ledges and landed at the bottom. It was less graceful then normal since her fake leg wobbled a bit.

"Sam!" squeaked Willow above her "Be careful."

"Come on, I'm starving! We didn't get anything yesterday!" she laughed She should be full on apples right now but thanks to a certain someone she got a cup thrown at her and nearly fell to her death. Then attacked by a broom. And then spent a whole night hungry because Willow thought it'd be too risky to go right back to the kitchen.

There was a whoosh as that certain someone landed beside her.

Sam glared at the glittering fairy. They had insisted on coming along, to "ensure they got proper food". As if she'd just grab whatever scraps were in the bin. She wanted to tell them to buzz off and wait their turn.

Unfortunately Willow had agreed that it would be best for as many of them as possible to go on the 'food runs' as he called it. They needed to build up a supply of food. Which was a very sensible reason and Sam couldn't find a way to argue it. Still she wished Button had at least come along to balance it out. But the smallest rat had decided to stay back and gather fabrics to make beds for everyone. If Sam wasn't so horrendous with needles she'd have just stayed behind to help Button.

Glimmer glared right back at Sam.

"Okay you two," Willow hopped down to join them. "Please get all your bickering out now before we're in open space."

"I don't have anything to say to her." Glimmer crossed their arms.

"Me neither" Sam continued to glare at the fairy.

Willow groaned and walked ahead leaving the other to walk side by side while ignoring each other.

After a quiet but tense walk, the trio reached the huge oven that marked their entrance to the kitchen.

Willow peered out into the room.

Sam leaned over him to do the same, accidentally hitting him with her bag.

The kitchen looked the same as last time. Though now with a distinct lack of convenient fresh food sitting around. And the giant from yesterday was already here, fussing with something on a counter across the room.

"Drat." said Willow "We'll have to turn back and try again later."

"What, why?" said Sam. She did not want to have to climb back up hungry again!

"Because the orc is back?" said Glimmer "Can you not see her? She's taller than a deer."

Sam growled back at him.

"Stop it." Willow cut in between them "We'll just wait until she leaves."

"That'll take awhile. It looks like she's the cook." said Glimmer.

"Oh come on, we should be able to do something now." She looked back out into the room. The giant had disappeared. But before Sam could gloat about it, the giant walked back in carrying a tray of food.

She set it down at the counter and began doing some sort of chopping or peeling? It was an awkward angle.

Sam craned her neck to see where the giant had come from. Tucked away in the far corner on the same wall as the oven was a door Sam had missed the other day. It was wide open now. "Did you see that?" she said "They must keep most of their food there!"

"Sam we can't go out when there's a giant." said Willow.

She was about to argue when an idea hit her. "But look, it's right along this wall. The tunnel also goes that way. Maybe we can make another hole there?"

"I don't know" said Willow "She's clearly going in and out. Might still be risky-"

Sam walked off back into the wall. No reason why she couldn't just check! She turned left instead of right and raced through the dark tunnel. Navigating through plenty of stormy nights meant it was a breeze for her to dodged the bumps and pipes throughout.

After she got what she thought was the distance between the entry and the door she stopped and looked around. Well, more so felt the wall. There weren't any cracks she could feel. Certainly none that let any light in. Must have just not gone far enough.

Sam jogged further in and tried again. Still nothing. Maybe. The walls were bumpy and craggily.

Who knows how to tell what was just a crack and what was one that went all the way through the wall. Willow probably. This was how he lived, in the walls of giants. Leaving him behind hadn't been the best move...

Too late though. So Sam would just have to continue without.

Sam pressed forward through the dusty tunnels. It was becoming rather eerie. She was in silence for one thing. No other rat or giant were nearby. Just the faint creaks and groans of something deeper inside the dwelling. She hadn't even seen signs of a living bug. They should be swarming the near ancient thing but they weren't.

The darkness was also starting to play tricks on her. Sometimes she'd go to duck under a pipe and put her paw on it only for it to touch nothing. Or she'd swear she saw another tunnel leading off the one she was in but then be unable to find it if she went back.

Thankfully there was a pin prick of light ahead. Sam rushed forwards towards it. "Ha!" she thought "Knew there would be a way in. Just not used to judging distance inside is all." As she got closer she could feel a faint breeze coming from the light. Odd since any hole would lead inside-

Sam skidded to a stop, falling onto her butt, as she nearly fell down an entire foot drop.

The light was not in fact coming from a room in the dwelling but from the very sun.

Her legs were dangling outside of the walls as the hole was in the stony exterior.

It looked out to a work yard. The grass had long since been stomped away leaving dirt and pebbles. A shovel, couple pitchforks, and a random assortment of other tools were scattered about. The neighs of horses could be heard from somewhere nearby. A small staircase led to the wall almost right next to the hole Sam was in.

"Welp." said Sam to herself "This certainly isn't where they keep the food."

"It's not?"

Sam nearly fell to the ground again. She wiped around expecting to see that dime witted fairy smirking behind her. No one was there.

"Over here!"

Sam looked back out at the yard. She noticed a hulking metal monstrosity tucked in the corner where two of the dwelling walls met.

Perched on the edge was a fairy waving enthusiastically. She was very clearly not Glimmer as her hair was too long and her wings were shaped entirely differently. In fact she was probably a pixie rather than a fairy.

Somewhat hesitant Sam waved back.

Before either of them could do anything else a door banged open.

Sam's head rattled as the door creaked in protest of the abuse.

A giant stomped down the stairs unnoticing. He looked entirely different from any of the four giants Sam had seen so far. But at least wasn't as weird as the ghostly scaled one from yesterday. The giant was carrying a large bulky bag. He walked to the metal bin and chucked the bag inside.

Despite the clattering and clanging, the pixie kept her balance on the edge. She was even still smiling.

Without so much as a glance at the pixie, the giant walked back inside the dwelling. Closing the door much more gently this time.

"OOOOO!" squealed the pixie "Maybe this one has food! Or shiny things! Come on let's look I'll share!" she dove down into the bin.

Sam wasn't too sure anything edible was in that bin given what she could smell from here. She looked back into the dark tunnel. Groaning, she climbed down the stone walls. No way she was going back empty handed.

The stench only got worse as Sam approached the metal bin. And so did the unending buzz of the flies swarming it. Maybe it would be better to go back empty handed...

The pixie popped back out. "Is this food?" she held up an apple core. What little insides were left were very brown.

"Not anymore." said Sam as she tried to not look completely disgusted.

"Aww, darn." the pixie dropped the core back into the depths of the bin. She jumped up and out of the bin and fluttered down to where Sam stood giving the rat a clearer look at her. She was short. Not as small as Button but more so than Willow. She was grinning ear to ear showing the pointed teeth she had left. Her hair was long and matted. A ridiculous amount of scarves were wound around her neck and streaming down her body, her ribs poking out between them. A thin cloth that should have been replaced ages ago was wound around her waist. Her bare feet were caked in dirt.

Sam snapped her eyes back to the pixie's "Yeah I don't think you'll ever find food there."

"I guess so, it's been a week and I haven't seen anything" said the pixie. Her expression not changing "Me dad used to find food all the time in bins like these. Then one of 'em fell on him. Guess that's a sign. My name's Moss what's yours?"

"Uh, Sam?" she spluttered. Had she heard Moss right? The pixie had really sped past her father's death.

"Nice." Moss grinned more "I like it. Got any food?"

"Thanks, but no I don't have any."

"Aww no I guess we're both starving for the winter." Moss plopped down onto the ground. Her grin lessened but still present.

"What, no. I know where's there some." said Sam.

"Really?" Moss was back on her feet, standing on tippy toes to get way into Sam's personal space "But I thought yous was looking for food out here?"

Sam stepped back "Well kinda? I know where the food is I just couldn't figure out how to get to it."

Moss seemed to get the message and stood down "How'd you do that?"

"I thought I could get in through the walls, but instead I went out."

"You were inside the walls?" Moss gasped "In there, you can do that? How?" she pointed to the dwelling.

"The walls are hollow, mostly, so you can walk through them." Sam pointed to where she came out of "Look there's a hole there."

Moss squinted at the wall for a moment before her eyes widened. She squealed, run jumping into flight and dove right into the hole.

Sam blinked as she looked at the spot the other fae had just been in.

"Come on Sam! Let's get foood!" called Moss.

Still a bit dazed Sam complied. She couldn't help but stare at the grinning pixie as she did so. It probably wasn't a good idea to keep helping the first sap she bumped into...

But as she climbed up back into the crack between stones she caught sight of Moss's ribs and decided that okay, this one last time was fine.

Besides, it would be helpful to have the glow of a fairy's wings. While Moss's brown ones didn't give off as much as Glimmer's golden ones, it was a good price for not having to deal with the annoying fly.

Sam walked in front leading back into the tunnels. Every so often she'd have to turn and get Moss's attention whenever the pixie caught sight of a pipe. "Okay." said Sam "Keep an eye out for cracks and holes and that stuff. We need to find a way into where the giants keep their food."

Moss intensely eyed a bump in the wall next to her.

"No, like one you could walk through."

With her eyes locked onto Sam's, Moss slid behind the bump.

Sam walked around to face Moss again "As in through it into the actual dwelling."

"There's more?!" Moss looked genuinely awestruck.

"Oh there's way too much more. Let's go."

The two continued on, inspecting the wall as they went. Moss seemed to have gotten the memo and was keeping up with Sam while doing so. Hopefully.

"Oh look! I see something!" Moss slipped around Sam and dashed ahead.

Sam raced to keep up, just barely seeing the shockingly fast pixie zip around a corner. Finally she reached where Moss had went to...

Right by the oven.

"Look how big this is!" Moss walked right out into the open.

Sam followed, looking around to see that the kitchen giant had left.

"You don't look happy, is this not where the food is?" Moss was still smiling.

"Sort of?" Sam was still looking around "This is more where they prep the food. I was trying to find a way to where they store it-oh!" The door she had seen earlier was still wide open. Shelves and boxes could be seen lurking inside. "Looks like we can get in through something bigger than expected." Sam marched over to the door.

Moss followed after.

Both of them were soon in the room. It was much smaller than the kitchen but it was packed full of food. Jars, boxes and cans lined the shelves all filled to the brim with food.

Sam spotted some apples and imminently climbed up the shelf they were on. She rolled a juicy one away from the others and chowed down on it as she watched Moss zip around the room.

"OOOO look these things are full of green stuff! I didn't know you put stuffs in them." Moss gasped "What are those!" she dove down headfirst into a jar that had been left open. Popping back up with a cherry hanging from her jaws. She made short work of it and dipped back down for another.

Sam finished what she could of the apple. She was stuffed. "I'll just relax for a sec" she thought "then I should find something to bring up to the other two. Ah, and I should ask Moss if she wants to join-" Sam looked up at the pixie.

And saw the giant standing in the doorway.

The giant was the same as earlier. She walked in, past the shelves where the fae were, and began moving around jars and cans in search of something. After a very long few seconds she found it and left the little room none the wiser.

Sam groaned and brought her knife out to get some apple chunks to pack into her bag. She motioned for Moss to get over here once it was full.

"What's up?" Moss landed on the wood, dripping juice and half covered in cherry skin and chunks. She looked just as unfazed about a close encounter with a giant as before.

"We gotta go, that giant is apparently going to be walking in and out all day." Sam said as she began climbing back down the shelf.

"Why?" Moss fluttered next to Sam as the rat climbed "She didn't see us. Big folk never do."

"Oh she's seen me before." Sam hopped down to the floor "Tried to smack me with a broom. She missed but I'd rather not give her a chance to hit."

"Really? You must be bad at glamour."

"I don't have much magic so yeah." Sam walked ahead.

"What's magic have to do with it? You just gotta stand really still." said Moss genuinely.

"I... let's just move." Sam already gets headaches from hearing fairies chatter about how magic works, she really didn't want to hear about pixie magic right now.

The giant was still in the kitchen. But she was engrossed in whatever she was doing so the two fae were able to skitter right back into the walls unnoticed.

Until Sam nearly trampled Glimmer.

"Gah, what the-" Sam started.

Glimmer turned. The fairy was covered in dust. Some was entangled in their hair, making it look fuzzy.

"What happened to you?" said Sam.

"Cleaning." said Glimmer wearily. They looked Sam up and down and then at Moss "You?"

"Got lost... found her." she motioned to Moss.

"Hi!" said Moss.

"Then..." Sam looked down at herself to find she was covered in apple juice which had then picked up all the dust Glimmer had missed. "I got some apples." she opened her bag and offered some to Glimmer.

Glimmer raised a brow and took out one of the chunks. Which was already browning at the edges. All the same they took a bite.

"You guys want a bath?"

"Yes!" Sam said with more enthusiasm than she wanted "Where though?"

Taking another bite, Glimmer motioned for them to follow as they walked back out to the kitchen.

[egophiliac]

crossing my fingers and wishing upon every star that chapter 10 finally brings us the tweel cards 🤞🤞

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Remembrance and Forgetfulness

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[metamelonisle]

i actually know about kirby outside the context of smash bros or memes this makes me better than literally everyone i know irl and i am not joking

[kraviolis]

huntlow is one of the most superior m/f ships ive seen in recent years mostly bcus hunter has cried on screen 10x more than willow. also she will pick him up and throw him into a pile of pillows and hunter will just scamper back over for her to do it again like a small dog

[bbybrahms]

I headcanon that Brahms didn't kill Emily and it was an accident not because I'm a pussy that can't handle a problematic fave but because I like how much sadder it all is if it wasn't even his fault but his parents still make him suffer 20 years for it

[ghostinacardboardbox]

Trevor Ghosts on a Train you will always be famous to me. He's so pathetic. His dad is a train. Andrel says that having to comfort him about his dead dad being the train is "The worst interaction I've had since Jaimie was on the train." Talking to her sad coworker is worse than her childhood friend giving up his soul and summoning an eldritch horror that posessed her most competent coworker. No one does pathetic like Trevor. King shit.

[lenievi]

I need every Confrontation to include "no lol no" from Javert when Valjean's like "pls gimme three days"

[flugame-mp3]

SEASON NINE FINALE WAS WILD. I HAVE MANY MANY THOUGHTS. WHAT JUST HAPPENED. A FUCKING ROLLER COASTER FOR SURE

[doux-amer]

I watched The Menu and loved it because it featured every single thing I hate about the food world and the arts in general. It’s brilliant because it's multilayered and multi-pronged in its satire and reducing it to just ONE aspect of its criticism (“rich people suck”) is too simplistic; even if you took away their richness, each character from the customers to Slowik and Elsa on the opposite side stands for a certain type of person who interacts with food and I hate every single one of them. :))))))

Also, it's hilarious because 2022 had The Bear and The Menu and people who work in the food industry/service industry or are have some connection to it talked about how they got stressed out by one and felt catharsis through the other. Both of them let them feel seen, but one was feeling seen in a bad way and the other one was in a good way even if you liked both fkasjflksajf.

[hauntingblue]

This volume is called ace's introduction. Nothing more to say.

"You hire comedians here?" He is so funny....

Who's gonna tell him..... He literally will never get a break

Ace being so proud of Luffy not accepting to join and being a little shit... Also right here is where I got ROBBED of my acesan content.... Also he does fight whitebeard... In marineford... GOD!!!!!

GOOOD TAKE ME INSTEAD!!!! TAKE MEEEE!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH

You cannot see me but I am on the floor on my knees and I am crying and sobbing and hitting my chest asking the gods to spare him

[phanboyo]

Everyone, immediately: yeah yeah, evil alternate universe Batman, we've all seen it. Good alternate universe Joker??? I mean it's not technically unheard of but it's really not as common, and still a little bit of a new concept. Like, who would ever think the Joker would be the good guy? Especially if Danny mentions he has an evil alternate future self who kills everyone and takes over the world??? Everyone's immediately like, oh yeah that sounds more like what we'd have expected of an alternate universe Joker.

"But don't worry guys I screamed at him and now hes in a thermos outside of time so that universe doesn't exist anymore." <<Danny doing more to protect people from the ""Joker"" than Batman ever did, or so think the JL.

Haha kidding.

But still, the idea of a good Joker is so strange, people think that Danny's just pretending to not be a horrible person so that they let their guards down and he can set up an evil plan to stab everyone in the back. It takes a while for them to warm up to him. Especially when he brings up weird science haha

I like to think that some Gothamites saw a confused Baby Joker step out of a portal and immediately thought time travel. This must be Joker before he became the clown prince of crime. Quick someone kill it before it becomes more powerful!

But when Joker sees internet videos of a confused Baby Joker stepping out of a portal? 50/50 whether it's fight on sight or a new protege with some good taste. It probably changes from moment to moment tbh. But even if he decides on the latter, he's immediately outraged as soon as Danny takes more of Batman's attention than the Joker does, let's be honest.

Danny, seeing another billionaire vampire wannabe taking an interest in him:

In other words, this kid is definitely not like any Joker Batman's ever seen before lol

Oh! But can you imagine if Danny mentions Red Huntress as the frenemy ("well, she thinks we're enemies but I think she's starting to warm up to me") who's always trying to shoot him? And he refers to her as Red? "—with this red mask on all the time and new gadgets she steals from Plasmius—yeah the rich vampire guy—cause she used to work with him but now she hates him—" and now they're all convinced she's Red Hood's alternate universe counterpart?

(Not) Another Joker

Over time, effects from Danny’s ghost form starts to bleed over into his human form.

His skin gains a deathly pallor. His hair turns white before gaining an ectoplasmic green tinge. When he smiles, it looks just a bit too wide to be human.

He, completely coincidentally, looks a lot like the Joker.

Not that he realized that fact for a while. Sure, Joker’s crimes may make the news sometimes, but it’s not like anyone in Amity Park paid that much thought to a criminal in an entirely different state. The connection just… never occurred to anyone.

Well, that was until Danny ended up in Gotham for [dealer’s choice of reason—college, vacation, runaway, etc]

Because then everyone noticed, and it started to cause lots of problems for him.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️👁️)

Your marriage to Duke Price is one out of necessity: you need a husband before high society begins rumoring you to be a barren woman and too old to be married off, and Duke Price needs a wife who is able to take on Duchess duties of his duchies.

You do not expect love, though you suppose it’d be a nice bonus. You are merely glad that Duke Price is a reasonable handsome man, and he informs you on your wedding night that he will not force himself on you, and there is no need to immediately begin attemtping for an heir.

You take admirably to your new duties, have been raised practically for this purpose though the head butler Kyle is wonderful in helping you as well- actually all the servants have been wonderful towards you. You have regular dinners with John, though they are a bit stilted but at least Chef Johnny’s food is good enough you can easily forget the tense atmosphere. You can tell your husband is hiding something- you are sometimes barred from going to his office to him, certain rooms are not allowed for you, and you are not allowed anywhere near the letters addressed to him- but as long as it isn’t hurting you, why should you bother him? So you never ask, and he seems happy enough that you don’t.

Until you accidentally stumble upon him and Duke Riley exchanging tongues. Very heatedly, hands grasping and tugging on each other’s clothes and Duke Riley sat on your husband’s desk.

It’s hot.

What’s not so hot is the way they both look at you when they realize you are there. You stutter, face a red so fierce it’d put a furnace to shame, and bolt out of the room despite hearing John call your name.

And you also skip out on the dinners for now, pretending you are sick with the help of your maids and their makeup skills.

But suddenly, it’s like your eyes have been opened. It’s not just Duke Riley who seems to hold a part of your husband’s heart; the one time you gather enough courage to maybe go speak with John and address the situation, you see Kyle stumbling out all disheveled and flushed, though he has a very satisfied air around him. He freezes when he sees you, and your jaw drops.

“My lady-“

“I- I’ll just- I’m taking a walk! Alone!”

You go to the kitchens instead, hoping that Johnny would have something delicious you can eat. Maybe something cold enough to wash away the blush on your cheeks.

Johnny is weirdly silent, however, even as he whips up chocolate mousse for you. His silence is not normal, it feels… almost guilty…

You sighs, take in a deep breath, and gather your dress. “Johnny… are you too…-?”

“Aye, m’lady. But-“

You can’t take it anymore. You leave the kitchens, and go straight back to your bedroom to bury your face in your bed. It’s not as if you are upset! It’s just- a rather befuddling situation?

Two nights later, it’s John himself who comes to you. You had assumed it was one of your maids returning with a new jar of oil for your nightly hair routine, but it’s your husband. You are glad it’s winter, and you aren’t simply in a thin nightgown.

“Wife.” He says, voice steady yet strained.

“John.”

You can’t call him husband. You’ve spent the last two days thinking and you were… rather sad. You were in the way of whatever they had (you saw Kyle and Johnny kissing, Johnny specifically sending food addressed to Duke Riley), weren’t you?

John sighs, sitting down on the settee while you remain on your vanity. After a moment of awkward silence, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “…what do you want to remain silent about this?”

You blink, raising an eyebrow. “…huh?”

John’s fists clench. “How much do you want in return for your silence?”

Frowning, you set your brush down and fully turn to him even if you feel exposed despite your thicker nightgown. “Is this about your… partners?” You say the word delicately, then shake your head. “I want nothing, John. If you are worried about me starting anything, I won’t. I just… hope this doesn’t mean you will divorce me?”

Being a divorced woman might as well be a death sentence on its own.

He looks at you, shocked into silence, and you quickly explain; his relationships have nothing to do with you and you aren’t a petty woman, who are you to come between what he and they have? You only hope this won’t take away the protection this marriage gave you.

That night, thus, you and John reach an agreement you are sure both of you are satisfied with.

Except, months later, John is no longer satisfied.

With the ice broken between the two of you. The dinners have become so much more… relaxing and comfortable, far less than they had been. No secrecy was needed when you were around anymore, and you only giggle and look away, feigning innocence when they share tender kisses between one another… and the less polite kisses.

John can’t remain satisfied with this arrangement. You are such a sweet thing, now that he’s become to know you far better. He can see the way his men are looking at you now, something between fondness and hunger and want; Kyle helps you far more often now, despite your insistence that you can do it yourself. Even when you do it yourself, he stays by you and ensures you are comfortable.

And he joins your evening walks, arms looped as the two of you speak, laughing and giggling.

It’s similar to your late night chats with Johnny, where he plies your full of sweets and desserts until even your dreams are full of sweeter kisses you are sure will never be for you. Johnny, who cooks your favorites on hard days and who you heard from Kyle is even more serious about only having the best of the best in vegetables and meats and seasonings.

And Duke Riley… for all his stoicism, he is gentle with you. Even when he’d stared at you with doubt and mistrust, no doubt believing you to be lying to John and simply waiting for the shoe to drop and for you to ruin them. Yet it never happens, and now, during the galas you attend all dolled up on John’s arm and ignoring all murmurs about still having no children, you even dance with him and giggle at his terribly dry jokes, even share a few of your own with him.

Steadily, slowly, obliviously, John has watched each of his men fall for you. This, obviously, made you theirs. It made you his, more and more than you already were.

It’s why your current request is making him clench his glass in his hand, with Kyle looking on in displeasure as well, giving him subtle glances.

“-So that’s why I was asking, John,” you remain sweetly oblivious, adorned in a pretty dress Simon had gotten for you recently. “He will not spread any rumors, I’ll personally make sure of that-”

Your cheeks darken then, and you glance away. “I- I am… merely a bit- unsatisfied, if you understand my point. And the stable man is loyal to you, he wouldn’t say anything.”

It’s clear he needs to keep a better watch over you. Where and when did you even interact with his stable boy, Graves? Though he focused on your words.

Unsatisfied.

Well, he can’t have that, can he? You’ve done your wifely duties so admirably, it’s about time he took care of you as well… and maybe dealt with the baseless barren rumors as well. A baby would keep you nice and content and focused on them alone, wouldn’t it?

Oh yes. Yes, it would.

dukedom au masterlist

Part two

[lewisvinga]

don’t judge a book by its cover | alex albon x fem! reader x lily muni he

summary; fans seem to hate y/n and her ‘cold personality’ without knowing the true reason

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; hate comments, cursing

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested ! i hope i portrayed alexithyma good enough😫

masterlist !

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liked by lilymunihe, alex_albon, and others !

yourusername: end of the week

lilymunihe: my princess chef it was so scrumptious like u 😋🥰🥰

yourusername: it was just pasta, lils

lilymunihe: n it was gordon ramsey level amazing

alex_albon: what a pretty lady 🤩

yourusername: u can’t see my face ??

alex_albon: but i just know ur gorgeous

username: why are her replies so… cold

username: dis girllll

username: lily and alex are always appreciating her in the comments and she can’t even show a bit of love back?💀💀

username: icl y/n is pissing me offffffff

username: OMG SAME she acts so cold towards lily and alex😭

username: they deserve sm better😕

username: yall don’t know her???? maybe she’s just like that??

username: but she can’t even be affectionate a bit towards her gf and bf?? it’s weird cmon🥱

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liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and others !

lilymhe: “alexithyma, also called emotional blindness, is a neuropsychological phenomenon characterized by significant challenges in recognizing, expressing, sourcing, and describing one's emotions.”

this is something that our dear y/n was diagnosed with years ago. yes, she doesn’t express her love in words or pda, but she expresses her love in other forms. she’ll make 2 separate dishes for dinner just because alex and i want different things. she never forgets to get us coffee during her daily morning runs. she always attends races or tournaments to support us.

so yes, she doesn’t necessarily show her love through words and pda, she shows it through her actions. we love her and she loves us. never judge a book by its cover, because alex and i truly feel her love everyday by her actions.

tagged; yourusername, alex_albon

yourusername: oh my

yourusername: idk what to say ?????

alex_albon: thx a lot lily🙄

lilymunihe: sorry i jus wanted to defend my girl🙄🙄

alex_albon: MY?????

lilymunihe: sorry OUR girl

yourusername: ?????????1&9/8:8/

alex_albon: look u broke her 🙄

alex_albon: if you all could kindly fuck off and stop assuming things about people you don’t know that’d be great💙

yourusername: alex u have a public image to maintain??😀😀

alex_albon: who cares? they’re hating on you for no reason and i just want to defend our girl🥱

yourusername: ourgirlakxjaodk

lilymunihe: U BROKE HER TOO!!

username: mis padres

username: THEY COULD NEVER

username: EXACTLYYYT CALL THEM OUT👏👏

username: like i said, you all don’t know her so why judge someone so quickly 🥱

username: I’VE BEEN SAYINGGG😫

username: so true oomf

username: they’re all HAPPY and IN LOVE now LEAVE THEM ALONE!! liked by lilymunihe, alex_albon, and yourusername !

[evilminji]

Okay this is going to drive me INSANE. D:>

Dearly beloved, Phandom darlings...

Can DANNY EAT VIDEO GAME/TV FOOD?

I... I NEED to know. You don't UNDERSTAND!? Think about it. No, seriously. THINK about all those HIGHLY unrealistic, too good to be true, PERFECT looking meals. Animated shows n games etc where there are chefs who will "cook for Anybody!"

Now think about being 14 going 20. A teenager. A broke college student. Your fridge is empty and everything you touch? Comes back to LIFE. You're... you're just so hungry. Tired. Your bruises have bruises and you have a paper due tomorrow.

I kinda want to CRY.

Can only eat cup ramen so many times before you DO.

And this show? That commercial? Yonder cooking game?? Well... they did a REAL good job animating it. It looks so WARM. So FILLING and COMFORTING. You can practically SMELL it.

You look down at your sad, soggy, cheap but you can afford it, EZ Noodles and? Feel something BREAK inside. You... you KNOW you can travel inside technology. KNOW this. Have done it before. Why... why AREN'T you? You can't keep living like this.

You gotta TRY, right?

I? Wanna believe it TOTALLY works?? Because Ectoplasm is weird like that? And just shrugs? Says "actual food, the concept of food backed by electricity, what's the difference? Sure, we can fuck with this"? And so Danny? IMMEDIATELY fucking switches his diet.

Like? Dead stop screech, slam on the breaks, u-turn to take that last off-ramp. Type IMMEDIATE.

Grocery bill? No, no, you mistake him! No. NOW it's his "carefully researched for their cooking, games and shows" bill. Touch his collection and he'll FUCKING BITE.

They got sticky notes on the cases. Menus n lil fold out "grocery store" locations. He punched a dragon for this fruit. Mmmmm, home cooked meeeeeals~

Just? Weird Foodie Danny. Yes he DOES know what those steaks taste like. While YOU fuckers were staring at the cat girls bizangas, HE was eating granny cat lady's home made meatball stew! Ha! YOU FOOLS!

More then that? I want him to write reviews. Like "yeah, fight system was OKAY but- *5 hour glowing rant about the food, sounding like a food critic who'd actually fucking gone and loved it* " and people are like?? Who? Is this funky lil madman? This is hilarious?

I want it to be DPxDC JUST? So everyone slowly starts to play the game "Meta or Shtick?" Because no one REALLY knows who he is. This dude gets POPULAR though. For some reason can't be hacked (shame on you guys! Way to try and ruin the FUN!). And like? Eventually? Someone just fucking ASKS?

And Danny is like... " wouldn't YOU like to know, weatherboy?"

So everyone is like:

"Meta."

But hey... since they're already ASSUMING~? >:3c WHOOOOO wants to help him PAY RENT~? Let's VLOG this fucker! Wooooo! Say "hi" Catchef! *feline noises* like? It's like a let's play combined with a mukbang.

Teen Heros everywhere are FACINATED. Game developers are suddenly like? "If there's food. You BETTER make it look amazing. We want that weird YouTube twink to... whatever his powers are, our game! Free viral marketing!" Food channels? Rending their clothes, on their KNEES, please! PLEASE! Just ANSWER OUR EMAIL! Just ONE SHOW! A one off! Guest appearance!

We have MONEY!!!

All while Danny? Is finally happy with his life. Weird as hell. Harrasing the world. Good food on the regular. Gets to travel, kinda. Best of all? He's raising money from it! Can help people! Now... who wants salad?

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter @lolottes

[harryspet]

well kept [3] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all the feedback so far :)

word count: 4.5k

In which it's your first day working from home with Rafe and you have a new lesson to learn.

well kept masterlist

The Cameron residence was fifteen minutes outside of downtown Charlotte and situated in a large neighborhood where hills and huge oak trees hid all the houses. You didn’t really see his house, only what you could tell was large pond, until the driver was at the end of the mile-long driveway.  When you did, you felt woefully underdressed. Assuming that being inside all day meant you could opt for something casual, you’d chosen a cream knit dress. 

Following Rafe’s instructions, you sent him photos of each outfit you tried on, but he hadn’t told you which ones you could return. It was another blow to your confidence. You began to doubt whether he’d even been serious, but the fear that he might mention it the next day kept you from taking any chances.

Stepping out of the black Escalade, your eyes widened as you took in the architectural masterpiece before you. The house was a striking blend of traditional and modern styles, with a light-colored exterior contrasted by dark shutters framing the windows. A stone chimney rose from the roof, and the three-car garage with wooden doors added a rustic touch.

After your car drove away, a tall and impeccably dressed staff member named Anthony guided you up the stone-paved driveway. From your cheat sheet, you recalled that he was the House Manager. Rafe required a full team: Anthony, two housekeepers, a private chef, a driver, a gardener, and now you—his personal assistant. The inside of the house was as intimidating as the exterior. The expansive foyer featured high ceilings and a grand staircase that curved up to the second floor. To the left, you caught a glimpse of the formal dining room. Each room you passed was more impressive than the last. Anthony informed you that there were six bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

“I don’t usually work on Fridays but Mr. Cameron wanted me to give you a tour of the house and show you the ropes of house management. It’ll be important for you to be able to oversee the staff when I’m absent and understand the scheduling.”

Once again, it was all too much to take in. Today was your fifth day working for Rafe, and you’d barely survived until now. 

“I want to clarify that what happened yesterday stays between us. That includes Eleanor. Okay?”

That was all he said about his outburst. There was no apology for groping you, for pinning you down on his office couch, or for taking your virginity. If you were to tell the story, you’d have to mention how your body had betrayed you—not once, but twice. But you had said no. You didn’t want to use the word that described what happened to you. You didn’t want to think about it at all.

And it didn’t happen again—not over the next three days. He continued to be harsh, forcing you to apologize for every small mistake, even those you weren’t aware of.

As you followed Anthony through the expansive kitchen, you couldn't help but marvel at its sheer size and sophistication. The kitchen was a chef's dream, with gleaming marble countertops that seemed to stretch endlessly, state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances, and custom cabinetry in a rich, dark wood finish. An oversized island dominated the center of the room.

At the far end of the kitchen, massive glass-paneled doors stood, offering a glimpse of the world beyond. The porch was furnished with elegant wicker seating with plush cushions. The space was perfect for elegant parties, with enough room to accommodate at least a dozen guests.

Beyond the porch was a stunning infinity pool stretched out towards the horizon. As you walked closer, to the right, you took notice of a garden. You spotted the gardener, Tyler, who Anthony had mentioned earlier. In simple clothes, the young man blended easily into the scenery. 

“This is where Mr. Cameron will typically entertain his guests,” Anthony said, 

The beauty of the outdoor space was undeniable, but so was the control that permeated every aspect of it. You wondered what hand Rafe played in how spotless it looked. You could almost picture him, his jaw clenched and eyes blazing with a harsh intensity, if even the smallest detail were out of place. It was easy to imagine him demanding that every leaf, every petal, every stone be exactly where it belonged. 

Did his staff ever make mistakes? Did he make them beg him forgiveness like he did with you? 

“Shall I show you the study? It’s approaching seven-thirty.”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. He was kind but part of you didn’t want him to hear your voice shake or your face contort into an uncomfortable position as you struggled to get your words out. 

There would be enough struggling today, you knew that. 

Surprisingly, Rafe’s home office was more quaint than you expected. Dark wood panneling decorated the walls as well as floor-to-celing bookshelves. As you made your way around the room, you took note of the picture frames containing images of what you believed to be his family. Here, it seemed he had a heart. The four of them stood on a dock, sun shining down, and his arms were wrapped a young girl with dark brown hair. His smile was genuine and there was darkness lingering in the blues of his eyes. 

Other than the bookshelves, the room only contained his desk, a set of leather couches and a coffee table. The smaller room still managed to exude sophistication but it was far less imposing than you expected. 

The room almost felt intimate as sunlight trickled in through light colored curtains. You were standing behind his desk, glancing out his office window which faced towards the nearby pond. Beside it, sat a gazebo, although you couldn’t imagine Rafe enjoying it. You wondered if he lived here alone as you saw no traces of the other three people in his family photo. 

“Boo,” You yelped as you heard Rafe’s deep voice. 

You placed a hand over your beating heart as you looked toward where he stood in the doorway. Having been deep in thought, you hadn’t heard the door opened. He knew that much which explained the amused look in his eye.  

Everything flooded back at the sight of him. The air had already left your lungs. You felt his body pressing down on yours, warm breath against your ears, and that pain between your legs. 

The door clicked shut, making you flinch.

“Good morning,” he said, his gaze fixed on you.

It hit you then, you hadn’t greeted him like you were supposed to.

You were taken aback by his appearance. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a plain navy t-shirt, a stark contrast to your heels and carefully applied makeup. You weren’t sure why you were expected to dress up, especially when he looked so casual.

“G-Good morning, Sir,” You crossed the room, his eyes locked on yours. You remembered where he liked you, near the door, ready to greet him and present yourself to him. You hated how your voice always betrayed you, how weak it made you sound. Your only saving grace was that you’d already memorized his schedule for the day, having spent the entire commute looking at your laptop. You recited it to him, including the midday Zoom call he had with Kelce and Topper.

Topper, you had learned, was Eleanor’s husband. Rafe hadn’t ever touched her but the way Eleanor always answered your questions with vague responses made you suspect that her relationship with Topper mirrored your own with Rafe. She hadn’t warned you but now you were suspecting that was because Rafe seemed to always get what he wanted, no matter who got hurt in the process.

You froze the moment his hand reached out to touch you. His fingers curled around your side, hovering just above your stomach but dangerously close to your breasts. His grip was surprisingly gentle as his thumb grazed over the fabric of your dress. You stiffened as his other hand mirrored the first, sliding across to the opposite side of your body. “Eleanor picked this,” he murmured, his brows knitting together as his gaze slowly traveled down your figure. A jolt shot through you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a wave of panic coursing through you.

“Y-You don’t like it?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He clicked his tongue, “Turn around for me.”

You did as he said, “Doesn’t do enough for your figure,” Your heart panged in your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious of your own shape, “Are you wearing the panties I sent you?”

All you could do was nod. Rafe never commanded you to wear the panties everyday to work but you didn’t risk it. Luckily, they were all comfortable despite the lace and cheekiness. 

“Pull up your dress,” He said next. 

You’d spent the last three days in a fog, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to understand why your body betrayed you. When you were younger, you always asked the universe why you couldn’t speak like the way all your friends at school did. Now you asked the universe why Rafe’s voice made you want to clench your thighs together. Why you had felt empty ever since he’d finished inside of you. Why you wanted to try again, to experience that intimacy again without so much fear. Your life was so simple before but now it felt like it was too late to turn back. 

Your thoughts were too jumbled. Rafe cleared his throat and you realized you were just staring back, “I’m not gonna fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Please-”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t make me ask again.”

You squared your shoulders. “I’m nnn-nn-not comfortable—”

“Just do it.”

You reached down to the edges of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric to your waist. It was nothing he hadn’t already seen and yet you were shaking, “Turn around. Face the other way.” Like a robot, you obeyed. You’d chosen a light pink color today. 

“Good,” You felt him against you. He pulled your hair back over your shoulder and leaned down against your ear, “Maybe I should make you walk around naked while you’re here, hmm?”

You bit down on your lip, wanting to contain the protest that was about to leave your mouth. You wanted to lean into his touch, to embrace the comfort that would accompany the torture. He brushed past you just as you tilted your head back, “Go make me a coffee,” He commanded. 

He made his way behind his desk and you reached down to move your dress, “Did I say to pull your dress down?”

“N-No, Sir,” You moved your hands quickly to your sides.

“I could make you walk around like that, couldn’t I?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

He tilted his head and you realized you needed to answer. You gave him a painful look. You could say no but what would it cost you, “I . . . I don’t know,” He wasn’t satisfied by your answer, clearly. It was torture to force the words out, “Y-Yes.”

“Right answer,” He said, “Pull down your dress, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but see the irony in the fact that despite that you upgraded to a salaried job, you were still making coffee for the rich and spoiled. The opulent kitchen had an even fancier coffee machine than his office. Your movements as you prepared his steaming mug of coffee were precise despite the turmoil in your mind. 

Searching for solutions, your mind landed on the idea of trying to assert your competence. Sure, you could make a great cup of coffee but the whole point of getting a real job was so that you could have real skills to market yourself. You could be perfect at this job, anticipate his every need, and you could more than an object to look at. 

You re-entered his office quietly after realizing he’d begun his first meeting of the day. Carefully, you set his coffee down on the edge of his desk. He was always so intense, so completely absorbed in his work, and that unwavering focus made you even more anxious. Maybe that’s how you should be, more composed, projecting an air of confidence.

Unsure of where you should settle, you made yourself comfortable on one of the leather couches. You checked your email on your laptop, finding several reminders from Eleanor. You found yourself frustrated by how she picked and chose what information to share with you but you balanced those feelings with the fact that she was often your saving grace. 

She gave you a list of tasks including arranging for a delivery of documents that needed to be signed by Rafe, confirming his dinner reservations for the night, and proofreading the notes you took from yesterday’s meetings. You told yourself by the end of the next week, you’d be able to handle things by yourself, and you wouldn’t have to lean on her so much. You’d have a day, eventually, where Rafe didn’t point out anything you did wrong. 

“I was thinking-” Rafe’s voice cut through the silence. You were so focused that you hand’t realized his meeting had ended. He folded his hands over each other, his eyes on you, “From now on, I want you to wear what I pick for you each day.”

“How …y-you’re not happy with what I’ve been choosing?”

“It’s not about not being happy. Now I have more of an idea of what I like on you,” His voice was smooth and authoritative, “You want to reflect my taste, my standards, yeah?”

You mustered the courage to ask your next question, “Can I-I dress a l-little less … formally when I work at home with you?”

“Less formally?” He tasted the words on his tongue, “You mean, like more casual?”

“Yes, Sss-sir. Like more comfortable.”

“We could experiment with that,” His tone was deceptively light, “On my terms though. Yeah?”

You nodded and were grateful that he hadn’t reacted lightly. He seemed to enjoy that you were asking him for permission.

“You’ll have to wear something different tonight though, for dinner. Eleanor is coming by towards the end of the day to bring you your outfit and take you to get your nails done.” 

“Oh,” Your eyes opened wide, “I-I thh-thhought it was more of a personal-”

“I won’t keep you out forever,” He said, “You got plans or something?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, Sir.”

Rafe worked through lunchtime, so you brought him the meal prepared by his chef, Stevie—an elegant older woman with blonde hair. She had made a pesto pasta salad that looked like it belonged in a gourmet magazine, despite your protests and insistence on eating your own packed lunch. Only after delivering the meal did Rafe grant you permission to take your break elsewhere.

You settled on the outdoor patio by the pool, enjoying the peacefulness of the space despite the distant, steady hum of a lawnmower. For a moment, you didn’t feel out of place. Your dress, though apparently unflattering to your figure, was worth a small fortune, and the gourmet lunch you were now enjoying was a far cry from the PB&J you’d packed.

Thirty minutes later, after finishing your lunch and enjoying a lengthy chat with Stevie, you reluctantly headed back upstairs. Hearing Rafe still on the phone, you decided to explore a bit more. His office was situated in the private wing of his house, and as you meandered through opulent corridors, you couldn’t resist sneaking a glance into the master bedroom. It was cozier than you had anticipated, with tall gray walls that gave it a masculine feel and a plush bed draped in navy linen blanket that created a snug, cocoon-like atmosphere.

Rafe ended his call a minute later and the afternoon wore on. You settled into a rhythm, completing the various tasks that you’d added to your own to do lists and ones he’d assigned to you. You spent some time organizing files in his office. His gaze burned into you, even more when you were turned around, and surprisingly, you were starting to get used to that unnerving feeling. 

He waited for you to make a mistake but you used a hundred-percent of your effort to make sure that didn’t happen. 

The clock inched towards the evening, and the day grew even more quieter, more intimate. “I was looking over your notes from yesterday’s meeting with the board members. I highlighted some sections for you to read back to me,” He waved you over, his voice gruff after a long day of talking. You joined him behind his desk and you moved to lean over and get closer look, but he placed a hand on your hip. The gesture was firm, possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. With effortless strength, like a wolf guiding its prey, he maneuvered you onto his lap, settling you on his thigh. You felt the power in his grip, the unspoken control, and all you could do was comply.

“Rafe–” You started, an desperate attempt at a protest. 

“Start with the first section,” He commanded, his grip tightening. 

“I’ve been working on proofreading them–”

“Sweetheart,” He warned, not needing to add that you were making him angry. You could feel it, the heat coming off of him. 

You took a deep breath and slowly tried to read each sentence. Even if you didn’t have a sentence with a small typo, you still stammered over several of your words. He slid the chair closer to the desk and you yelped. 

“See right here,” He pointed to the screen but that only pressed him into you. You breathed slowly, trying not to hyperventilate, “This whole section needs more detail. I don’t want to have to ask more information.”

You were taken aback when Rafe actually began to instruct you on what you were meant to do. He spent at least ten minutes walking you through each sentence, explaining how to word your report, and deleted all the unnecessary details you added. He was surprisingly patient. 

“Now, your turn,” he said finally, leaning back in the chair. For a moment, you thought he was letting you up, but the pressure of his hand on your waist told you otherwise. “Fix it.”

You swallowed, hesitating as your fingers hovered over the keys. Ever keystroke was amplified in the quiet room. Doing your best to actually use your brain, you carefully made the changes he suggested. He watched you closely, his hands first placed on your hips but soon one wandered between your thighs. 

“Good,” He said. You could do it again, you thought, and not be so scared. His touch was teasing, a reminder of what he could do to you, all the pressure that built inside of you a spilled over. You could impress him, you could be beautiful, and not turn into a crying mess when he was inside of you. You could be more than a fragile thing to be broken.

Each word was a small victory. It was a battle you thought you could win until his fingers slipped inside your panties and his other hand grabbed a handful of one of your breasts. It was unbearable, and as he made small circles, you found your fingers slipping clumsily over the keys. 

You pressed your palms into his desk, your body tilting forward. A frustrated sigh left your lips, you couldn’t contain it, and Rafe’s chuckle rumbled from behind you, “Do you ever touch yourself like this? Be honest with me this time.”

“Y-Yes,” You whispered. 

“How do you do it?” He pulled you away from the desk, pulling your torso against his, “You use a toy?”

“J-Just my fff-fingers,” You admitted. 

“Like this? How do you like it?” Carefully, he switched between different approaches. He rubbed circles over your clit, smaller ones and then slower, bigger ones. Then he stroked you up and down, fingers slipping easily into your warm hole as he wandered lower, “You put those little fingers inside of you?”

“Rafe, please.”

“Tell me,” He kissed the side of your neck, “Or I’ll stop.”

"I-I don't usually put them inside… ," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I always use my pillow…”

He hummed against your ear. "See how much better this is when you cooperate? You can be such a good little assistant when you try."

You nodded, unable to speak, and let the feeling consume you. He brought you right to the edge, you were seconds away coming undone, but his movements slowed. Before you could register the feeling as disappointment, Rafe was hoisting you off of his lap. 

Moving with sudden determination, your feet were suddenly off the ground and Rafe was carrying you out of the room in his strong arms, “Rafe!” You clutched his shoulders as he carried you down the hall.

You turned your head as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, the heavy thud of the door slamming shut reverberating through the room. With a swift motion, he laid you gently on the bed. The softness beneath you was just as you had imagined, but the thought barely registered. You shot him an incredulous look, your face flushed with a mix of pleasure and frustration.

He leaned over you, grabbing a pillow from behind you and placing it in front of you, “Show me.”

You shook your head instantly and moved to crawl away. Somehow, you could let all of his other sleazy behavior slide by but this was an insane boundary for him to try to cross. He’d already been inside you and yet this was a thousand times more intimate. 

He grabbed ahold of your thigh, “You’re so close, sweetheart. I know you want it,” He challenged you, “Probably feels like you need it.”

“Please,” You tried, your voice threatening to crack. His hands found your hips again, slowly positionin you over the pillow. The soft fabric brushed against your most sensitive spot, the familiar sensation making you bite down on your bottom lip, “Rafe.”

“You saying my name like that just makes me want it more,” Balancing on his knees, he grabbed ahold of your face and leaned in to kiss you. You felt the intensity of his desire, how much he wanted this, and it left you dizzy. 

When he pulled back, he looked over you. Your hips started moving in a familiar motion despite your embarrassment. You trembled from the vulnerability, the pounding in your chest, but you chased that high he gave you. It ignited your fire again, and since you didn’t have the full force of his touch anymore, you focused your eyes on him, “Good girl,” He said again and you whimpered, “Look at me just like that.”

You rolled your hips harder, faster, imagining his kiss, his touch, as the tension coiled tighter inside you. His gaze never left yours, his words a constant stream of encouragement and control.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” 

His words all jumbled together. 

“Just let it happen.”

“I want to see your face when you cum, sweetheart.”

“You look so desperate.”

“So needy.”

“You’re gonna make yourself cum, huh?”

“Just because I told you too.”

“Such a good girl.”

“Look at you.” 

The words pushed you over the edge, finally, and you were able to let go. He watched as you rode out that wave of pleasure and his hands found your body again, his grip grounding you. “Fuck,” You heard him say but you couldn’t respond. 

You were too overwhelmed to respond, your mind unable to fully process what had just happened. All you knew was that you felt good, embarrassed, and strangely satisfied that you'd pleased him, all at once. 

When you manage to look at him again, the doorbell rang. 

Eleanor navigated through the upscale nail salon, a palace of white and silvers, with ease, like she was a regular, and this was just an extension of her universe. You imagined this place as an escape for her, from both Rafe and Topper. She secured side-by-side seats near the back of the salon and you followed her lead as she set down her purse and removed her sandals. Her movements were fluid and assured. 

“Have you thought about what color you want?”

“Oh, um, n-no,” You tried to make yourself comfortable in the pedicure chair, “What d-do you think Rafe would like?”

“Maybe something pastel. You can’t go wrong with a soft pink.”

“Is that what you’re getting?” You asked, unassured, as you glanced around the luxurious setting. It wasns’t like other nail salons you’d been to where the technicians and customers talked at whatever volume they liked. It was quiet and each technician wore matching black uniforms. 

“I’ll tell them you want ballet slipper on your nails and white on your toes.”

You nodded, grateful for her guidance, “Thank you.”

As your pedicures began, the warm lavender-scented water soaking your feet, two technicians took their places by your sides, working silently as they filed your nails. 

“How are you holding up?” Eleanor asked.

“Fff-fine,” You said, “I’m trying to . . . t-to understand him, I guess.”

“You’ll go crazy doing that,” She laughed lightly, flashing a look that said “poor you”. 

“How d-did you meet Topper?” Her face tightened at your question, “I mean, y-you didn’t say.”

“I’m from the same town as them, Rafe and Topper. Not really the same town, my parents didn’t have money growing up. But I worked at the country club they all went to. That’s how I met Topper.”

“And you started dating?”

“Something like that,” She made a small shrug, “I owe everything I have to them.”

You nodded, sensing the weight of her words despite the lack of detail. Another piece to the puzzle you were trying to put together. Maybe the two of them had an attraction to girls struggling to get by.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She asked and it made you pause.

Your instinct was to mirror her shrug, but you hesitated, wondering if you could trust her with your thoughts. If anyone could understand what you were going through, it had to be Eleanor.  “I-I just ffff-ffeel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only heard good things.”

“A-About me?” She nodded and your lips parted in shock. 

“Yes. I know you feel uncertain right now, but I think you'll be glad if you can stick it out. Topper… he’s a bastard, but he takes care of me. Rafe likes you too. Maybe he doesn’t know how to show it, but…” She paused, her eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “He’s filthy rich. That would be enough for me.”

In that moment, her brutal honesty felt almost like reassurance. You weren’t sure if Eleanor truly grasped the extent of Rafe’s inability to show affection, that his pleasure came from humiliating you, from making you cry. Just as you couldn’t fully know what she endured with Topper. Her words weren't necessarily comforting but at least they felt real.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :)