Eclair cookie reads a dnf fanfiction

WHAT HAPPENED TO MY INDENTATIONS

Eclair let out a soft breath as he finally hung up the large relic Gingerbrave had given him a few months ago. Of course, the cookie had enjoyed collecting artifacts and such, but even Eclair couldn't summon the motivation to put up such a huge artifact on display. He sighed, and eyed the dragon head. Where did the young cookie even find this, anyway? It didn't really matter. He appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Sometimes, the ever-energetic and curious cookie just felt like lazing his days away with jellies and tales about the fascinating Sir Tea Knight cookie...

Eclair snapped out of these thoughts immediately. He was in his early 20s, was he not? Thinking about retirement at such a young age.. Was it common among professors? He sat down on the chair near his desk, almost tripping on his long robes. Questions. That's all he could ask himself, wasn't it? Questions that would stay unanswered. Questions with the most obvious explanations.  Eclair cookie mindlessly opened up his computer, fidgeting with the small treasure box full of shining crystals, ones that were given to him as a gift. "What's this? A jewel?" He had said at the time. "Do I look like an appraiser to you!?" Nevertheless, he had accepted the gift anyway, and stored them into the box. By now, the slow computer had finally loaded up–curse the Parfaedian Institute for providing such shitty devices– and he opened up his inbox, quickly scanning his emails. It was the usual stuff, emails for subscriptions and some of his students asking for help on an assignment, to which he efficiently explained the material to them. He was just about to move onto grading his students' history exams, which he should've started grading a few days ago, until an email from Espresso cookie caught his eye. The cookie hardly ever socialized with the other professors, (I mean, if you're up all night on coffee, who would?), so this shocked Eclair cookie a little. The email was untitled, which was odd, especially considering that Espresso was a very formal cookie. Far from polite, but formal. Perhaps this was something urgent, and Espresso didn't have the time to type out a proper email. The email had no subject, just a link to a site called... Wattpad? Eclair cookie was, obviously, unfamiliar with the site, though he recalled a group of cookies giggling about reading something in it, in his class. He clicked on the link. It directed him to a book titled DNF Fluff+Smut.

Uh.. what? DNF? Was this an abbreviation for something? And.. smut? Fluff? He clicked the "Start Reading" button, not really knowing what to expect.

The first chapter was titled, Authors note~~ DreamNotFound fanfic!  Hello, reader-chan! (Eclair had cringed at this,) This is my first fanfiction! I hope you like it~! He clicked onto the next page, utterly confused as to why Espresso would have even sent him this.

dream woke up,  goggy woggy absent from his side. he got out of bed immediately, to find goggles woggles cooking breakfast. dreamy-weamy silently walked up to him, and put his hand on his waist.

Eclair cookie read over this passage 3 times, struck with disbelief. Did Espresso mean to send this to him? He quickly skimmed over the rest of the chapter, a skill he was very good at, considering he had many essays to grade in the future. Eclair's stomach churned, and he quickly closed out of the tab. He was more or less disgusted, to say the least. Not much at Espresso–it wasn't any of Eclair's business to know whatever the cookie enjoyed reading. But he hadn't expected... this. It was unbearable. The writing style–absolutely bullshit–the story, the pairing...ugh. Eclair cookie winced at the thought, and he got up to stretch. What was he planning to do, again? ...Grade history exams.. That's right... He sat down, and slowly took out the papers and his quill, having the urge to grade his ass off, while playing Christmas romance songs in the background. Just pretend he'd never opened up that email.

By the time he was done grading, almost two hours had passed, and he opened up his computer again, now playing with the feather at the end of his quill. Like always, the computer was slow as fuck. Once it had finally loaded up, the screen displayed his inbox. He blankly stared at the screen, his eyes subconsciously scanning for Espresso's email, and finding it was gone from his inbox. ...So, Espresso deleted it. It didn't matter, anyway. The deed had been done. He tightly grasped his quill, knowing fully well that he might never be able to look the other professor in his eye, ever again.