#good chance you'll never see this oc again but you never know... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kookslastbutton · 6 months ago

Text

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iii

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: some time skips (none too huge), oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, lots of introspection, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, themes of abandonment, mention of love bombing, reoccurring nightmares, sleep paralysis, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, death (minor character), life-threatening accident (major character)

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST...don't say I never warned you hahaha. Anyway, once again, I had an amazing time writing this! (although nervous af 👉🏼 👈🏼) Just FYI, there are some time skips as this starts a few weeks after the gala! So to clarify, it’s now 3 months since oc’s divorce was officially finalized, as in done (the process itself took way longer). The chapter continues from there and yeah, the pace is picked up. Okay, let’s go! Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Fresh linen. Warm breeze. The smell and sound of the ocean.

You know this place too well, like a memory you hoped to have forgotten. Why are you here now? You glance around, taking in the familiar details—the blank ceiling above, the soft comforter that curls around your body like silk against your skin, and delicate rose petals scattered at the foot of the bed. It’s exactly as it was before — it feels exactly the same; too quiet, too peaceful, and too good to be true.

The sunlight streaming through the window is blinding, yet it draws you in with a force you can't resist. Carefully, you stand up, your feet meeting the cool wood floor, and you shiver. Each step you take towards the window feels heavier, like wading through water. When you reach the window, you see the sandy beach below, the waves beating rhythmically against the shore. It’s beautiful, but the painful kind.

To the left, a young couple, not much older than yourself, their hands tightly intertwined, as if afraid to let go. To the right, an older couple sitting further up the beach, comfortably silent as they take in the horizon, reminiscent of their many years together. You always dreamt of achieving the latter, yet here you stand, having neither, and the chances of ever obtaining it growing dimmer with each passing day.

For many, this was supposed to be a place of happiness, a symbol of love, promises, and new beginnings, but not for you. For you, it was a cocoon, trapping you in a deceptive comfort. You close your eyes, trying to steady your rapid breathing, yet it doesn’t prove to be of much help. Images from your past that you’ve tried blocking out of your mind time and time again suddenly resurface — the arguments, the tears, the feeling of everything and nothing at the same time.

“You’re up early,” His voice startles you, causing you to spin around in a panic. At that moment, your heart tightens in your chest, and a cold sweat forms on your brow. You thought you were alone. You’re certain of it. Yet the sight of your ex-husband standing only a few feet away, his hair still damp from his morning shower, is enough to leave you completely speechless.

"Why are you here?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

"Why are you here?" he counters, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "Isn't this what you wanted? To remember us, to remember how it felt to be together?”

What? This isn't making any sense. Why is he talking to you as if he were a ghost? Your eyes search frantically around the room until you spot it—the wedding band on his finger. No, not again. You hear yourself plead, but the words don't leave your lips. All at once, the room begins to feel smaller, the walls closing in on you. You're stuck in another manifestation of your past, this time reliving your honeymoon, three years ago in Greece.

"I didn't want this," you say, your voice barely audible. "I wanted to forget this."

"But you can't forget, can you?" he says, stepping closer. “You remember this view. You remember the floors and the walls. You remember that we had our first time together here and promised our devotion to each other."

“That’s not fair, Jungkook," you reply, taking a step back, "it's not fair at all, you left me. You don't get to patronize me like this."

“We both know our marriage came with stipulations, __. So when did I ever give you a reason to stay? Or to love me?”

You’re back in the bed, the sheets now suffocating rather than comforting. The sound of the ocean is louder, more insistent, drowning out your thoughts. You want to scream, to run, but you’re paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, the regret.

"This isn’t real,” you say to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “I’m dreaming, none of this is happening.”

“You can't escape what we had, or what we lost. We’ll always be here, together __, in this place,” he says softly, reaching out to touch your hand.

"No," you whisper, pulling your hand away. "I need to wake up. I need to let go...of you."

The room fades, his figure dissolving into the shadows. The sound of the ocean becomes a distant murmur as you fight to open your eyes. Wake up, please wake up. It's your own pleads chanting in your head. Finally, with a gasp, you awake, the nightmare diminishing like vapor.

“Fuck,” you curse, fingers gripping your sheets, “just another damn dream.” Rolling onto your back, you take a deep breath before reaching out for the glass of water on your nightstand. Its coolness soothes your dry throat. You reach for your phone next, checking the time—4:47 AM. Too early to start the day, too late to attempt falling back to sleep.

Your thumb hovers over Jimin’s name in your text threads. It would be 10 AM where he is. You consider sending a message, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Forget it, you lock your phone and rise from your bed, you’ll go for a walk instead. Yeah, it’s brisk outside, but the fresh air will help clear your mind.

After tossing on your warmest coat and scarf, you head outside, the sun beginning to break over the horizon. At first, you wander aimlessly, lost in thought as you pass the odd person or two on the sidewalk. One individual accidentally knocks into you, yet he's quick to apologize. You easily understand their rush; perhaps they've just finished the night shift and are eager to reach the comfort of home.

You imagine their loved ones who must be waiting for them. You could be wrong, and maybe you're biased, but the image you depict is a future you once envisioned for yourself—one of laughter, love, and a warm family. It’s a dream you secretly carried as a child, amidst your unstable upbringing. But as the years passed, what was once a lifelong aspiration felt more and more elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It seems, in the end, it was just a dream…nothing more.

Of course, you've achieved other goals instead, success in your career for one. It's what you wanted most the more you became an adult. Even before Jungkook came in the picture you were thriving. Yes, you needed investors to expand, but you had already made a strong name for yourself, hence the reason his company even reached out to you for a partnership in the first place.

The second, and more formidable goal you’ve achieved was saving your company. You built your business with an earnest heart, good morals, and an ambition to serve a community. You couldn’t let it all be washed out by a larger, greedier industry giant. You had to do something. Too bad your judgment was skewed the day you saw a similar ambition in Jungkook’s eyes; he was just as determined as you to save what was his.

For a while you got what you wanted, stability for your business. But you got too invested, too short-sighted to anticipate that one day, it would all feel hollow without someone proper to share it with. Alas, your prior hopes, the ones you thought were buried long ago, began returning to you as if they were an overwhelming tsunami.

You wanted warmth.

You wanted intimacy.

You wanted a home.

You sought companionship with Jungkook but no, you read the signs all wrong. Once you dropped the L word, his attentiveness towards you skyrocketed. He began calling you while you were apart, surprising you with little gifts, and setting more time aside so you could both take Bam to the dog park on free days. But then it all stopped. After months of showering you with attention, his efforts exhausted him, so he looked for the first exit out.

You remember getting the text one afternoon— When will you be home tonight? We need to talk about something. Selfishly, you hoped he was going to tell you that you could take that trip to Fiji together. You had been hinting at it for the last two weeks. Of course, you were wrong because the last time you checked, trip itineraries didn’t come with divorce papers. At that moment, you realized that Jungkook didn’t try to love you in the slightest, he tried loving at you; love bombing 101. Your ties are now completely severed.

Yesterday marked three months since your divorce was finalized. You didn’t cry like you thought you would, but you did meet with Melody that day. As your therapist, she offered you her empathy, validation, and perspective. You feel you’ve gotten better since you started meeting with her, finally beginning to heal. Yet the unsettling dream that haunted your sleep last night shows you there are many things still left to resolve, feelings you need to confront, but where to start?

You love your ex-husband, but why?

Can it even be called love?

And do you really need him to love you back?

While you can only offer fragments of an answer for the first two, you seem to have a better-formed answer for the last.

No, you don’t need Jungkook to love you. He’s proven to you time and time again that you are not the one he can bear his heart to. He’s always reiterating that he wants you to find someone else, someone more deserving of you, whatever that means. Likely, it’s all projection. Out of the two of you, he’s the one more likely to re-marry.

As for you, you’ll always love him, at least a semblance of it. After all, he was once a part of you. But what was once a part of you, doesn’t need to be anymore. You have to let him go...though you wish you didn't have to.

You continue walking straight until you find yourself drawn to a small park overlooking the city skyline. It's fairly empty, with only a few people nearby. As you settle onto a weathered bench, you take in the view before you. It stretches endlessly. Sunrises have always held a special place in your heart—the amber glow breaking through the abyss of darkness as if a beacon of hope.

"You'll get through this __," you reassure yourself, “one day at a time.”

“Happy six months, boss!”

A goofy, boxy smile graces the man’s lips as he leans against the doorframe of your office. You take in his appearance: crème-colored sweater paired with dark brown slacks, the fabric impeccably tailored to his tall, lean frame. His ebony hair is perfectly parted down the center and feathered out to either side of his face, giving him a soft, approachable look. The glasses are new though, round with a hint of gold. Though a minor accessory, they seem to tie the rest of the look together.

Classy, yet cozy, you hum silently, it suits him.

Everything about the way he’s dressed today complements his features—not that it could be any other way, as Taehyung could never not look good in something. You learned that the hard way when you opted against a gaudy shirt and pant set your stylists suggested he wear for a commercial. Taehyung, being a free spirit, decided to try it on for kicks, and yeah, it strangely worked. He ended up shooting the entire commercial with it on. That video’s gotten your business the highest engagement rate across all your media platforms to this day.

“Mr. Kim, does six months of working together really merit a celebratory drop-in?” You lean back in your desk chair, arms folded as you narrow your eyes at the man. You're taunting him, not that he minds.

“Please,__,” he starts, stepping further into the room, his presence effortlessly filling the space. “The only person that still calls me that is the intern who works on set with us. Makes me feel old, like I’m double my real age.”

“Well, you are older than both of us.”

Taehyung gives you the look, a mix of amusement and mild aggravation.

“Two years is hardly considered older, but if you’re done trying to prod me, I’d like to ask you a series of serious questions.”

“Okay, what?” You straighten your back, curious to know what he’s thinking.

“Red or white wine?” He waits for your response, eyes seemingly hopeful. You're unsure where he's going with this, so you delay your response, suspicious of the spontaneity of the inquiry.

“Red,” you respond, cautiously. Taehyung seems pleased.

“Strawberries or blueberries?”

“Strawberries, though I prefer cherries most."

“Science or literature?"

"Literature." You surprise him with this one. "I like books, vintage ones."

"Do a lot of reading in your spare time?" he asks.

"When I get some, yes."

"Me too. Tolstoy?"

"Occasionally," you answer. "Where are you going with this, Taehyung?"

He shrugs. "Just making conversation." He pauses before continuing, “I also happen to know a place that offers all those things plus private bookings. How about you and I go for dinner tonight, as colleagues? If you hate the wine, I’ll drink it for you.”

The weight of his request hits you like a ton of bricks. Apart from a handful of social events, you and Taehyung haven't exactly mingled outside of the office. His sudden invitation to go out for dinner takes you by surprise, especially considering the nature of your professional relationship. However, you can't deny the subtle shifts in his behavior, the way he's been checking in on you more often, especially since the Winter Gala. Weeks have passed since then, but, no doubt, the memory of that night still lingers in both your minds—the shaming from a bitter business competitor, the unwanted press shining a light on your divorce, and your ex-husband who so easily approached you like it was nothing.

Taehyung suggested for you to slip away through the back door with him, offering to drive you home himself rather than leaving you with your limo driver. But you declined, feeling embarrassed that he wasn't merely a witness to the night's events, but also made to be a spectacle himself. You never wanted him to feel like he had to pity you or coax you through your personal trials. Being a good colleague is one thing, but he didn't need to go above and beyond.

“I don’t know if I can join you tonight, I'm sorry. I have a lot to do,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. It's not far from the truth with the mountain of business reports and budget plans to look over. Though your business remains functioning, it's a lot to maintain, especially with the number of investors having withdrawn their support once news got out about your marital separation. It's unfortunate how much a person's situation and the things they've built can change on someone else's dime.

“You sure?" Taehyung tries again, careful not to sound pushy. "The place isn’t overly posh, but we could go elsewhere if you’d prefer."

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, maybe another time?” you say, fingers fidgeting with a few documents on your desk, a nervous habit you developed ages ago. “I-"

“I understand,” he says, his expression softening, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I have a film shoot that might go late anyway. Speaking of which, I'm expected on set in about half an hour so I'm going to head out, but if you change your mind, you know how to reach me."

You nod, recalling having his contact in your phone. The two of you agreed it would be easier to coordinate meetings and schedules this way. "I will, thank you. Good luck with your filming."

As you watch him leave, a twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn't have dismissed him so quickly, considering how insistent he seemed. It's as if he was genuinely looking forward to the affair.

No, you can't entertain it any further. You have no way of knowing how far the night might've led—it's best to leave Kim Taehyung alone.

When you declined Taehyung's invitation to get dinner, you didn’t expect it to result in not seeing or hearing from him for the next week and a half. As an endorser, he doesn't work at the office regularly, coming and going as needed and since you hadn’t had any promotional projects for him recently, his absence seemed normal at first.

But this was Kim Taehyung. The same Taehyung who loved making spontaneous visits to the company, especially towards the end of the week. He often came in once, twice, sometimes three times a week to talk with Namjoon, your secretary, in particular. Somehow, the pair had become friends, and since Namjoon’s desk was near yours, Taehyung would drop by whenever he saw your door open. So, not hearing from him for 11 days straight was strange, like he'd vanished.

It was now Friday evening, the clock pushing 5 pm. You consider texting him to make sure he's okay, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical? You had agreed with yourself to leave him alone. Maybe he was on vacation, perhaps at a vineyard, or had taken on another film project. Being a highly talented actor, Taehyung had no shortage of casting directors contacting him for their movies and TV shows.

Embarrassingly, you hadn’t actually seen any of his movies. You enjoyed a good rom-com now and then, like the ones Taehyung starred in, but you usually opted for something more mindless when you had the time to watch anything.

You can imagine the loyal following he has though, as Taehyung was the epitome of a "dream boat" with his natural good looks and expressive eyes. He must be good at kiss scenes, which must be especially difficult for anyone dating him. You know you'd have a hard time accepting it at least, the fact that your flawless actor boyfriend was off making out with equally beautiful co-stars on set, that is. Anyway, as your endorser, maybe you should try supporting his films a bit more. There had to be one that would catch your eye.

Curious, you open a new tab on your phone and search for him.

"Holy fuck," the curse leaves your lips the minute the search returns. Dozens of articles display on your phone screen at once, all covering South Korean actor Kim Taehyung's recent motorcycle accident. You checked the publishing date—six hours ago. “Taehyung’s in the hospital. He’s in the fucking hospital!”

Panicked, you leave your office to speak with your secretary.

“Ms. __,” Namjoon greets you immediately, a trace of hesitation in his tone upon seeing your frazzled state. “Is everything alright?”

“Joon,” you refer to him by his pet name, “Did you know that Taehyung’s in the hospital?”

“What?” He seems as shocked as you, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm.

“It happened this morning around eleven or something. It was a collision, a motorcycle accident. Oh god, he’s—he’s been taken to the ER,” you choke out the words, struggling to maintain your composure as you try recalling one of the articles you skimmed. “We have to go. I have to go right now.”

“I’m coming with you.” Namjoon leaps from his chair, grabbing his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll drive.”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t know how long this’ll be and you usually work until 5:30, so I don't want you to have to be stuck at the hospital with me. I want you to be able to call it an early night if you want. We'll take separate cars over.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll meet you over there then?”

“Yeah.” You nod back, clutching your keys harder in your palm. “Yeah, sounds good.” You turn around to head for the nearest exit, but your secretary stops you mid-step.

“__,” he calls you by your name, having known you for the past decade permits him to do so. He softens his eyes when he sees the worry in your own clear as day. “He’s gonna be okay. We have to believe that. Please drive safe.”

“You too,” you say, then disappear from his sight.

When you arrive, it’s a madhouse. Sirens blare as ambulances rush into the hospital parking lot, doctors and nurses race from room to room, and fans—so many fans—crowd outside, all waving signs of comfort and support.

“I'm here to see Kim Taehyung,” you say urgently to the charge nurse. She recognizes you immediately and throws you a look of distaste, but you’re too focused on the emergency at hand to care. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I need to see him. We work together, we're colleagues.”

“Ms. __,” she replies, surprisingly calm and collected amidst her obvious dislike of you. “I’m afraid he’s currently receiving serious medical attention and won’t be able to have any visitors at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” you blurt out the words faster than you anticipate. You feel like you're eating your words from earlier about leaving him alone, but this is different—his life is on the line. "I can wait for him.”

“Visiting hours are only until 8 pm. I really don’t think—”

“Please,” you interrupt, your voice stern and urgent. “He's part of my team. He's my...friend. I have to know if he’s okay.”

The nurse hesitates, her expression softening slightly as she sees the genuine concern in your eyes. “Alright,” she finally says, her tone firm but kinder. “You can wait in the family lounge, but I can’t promise you’ll be able to see him anytime soon."

“Thank you,” you say, relief flooding through you. She directs you to a quiet room down the hall, away from the commotion where you're better able to calm your racing thoughts. You find a seat in the far corner immediately and send a quick text to Namjoon, letting him know where you are.

As you wait, the minutes drag by painfully slow. You can’t stop replaying the articles in your mind from earlier, the words “motorcycle accident” echoing like a mantra. How did this even happen? How bad was his condition? How much strain is this going to put on his acting career? You wish you knew.

A handful of nurses enter the lounge occasionally, calling out names and providing updates, but none of them are Taehyung’s. You find your ears burning every time the door opens, heart racing, only to sink back into your seat when it’s not about him.

Finally, you catch sight of Namjoon, his face mirroring your concern. He spots you immediately and rushes over, taking a seat in the chair beside you. “Any news?” he asks, his voice low and urgent.

“Not yet,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “They said he’s receiving serious medical attention and don't know when we'll be able to see him. We have to leave by 8.”

Namjoon nods, his expression grim but unwavering “We’ll wait together.”

"If you need to leave sooner than—"

"I know," he interrupts. "I appreciate it, but please let me be here too."

You sit in silence from then on, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on both your shoulders. It's not until 7:35 when a doctor walks into the lounge, his tired eyes scan the room until they land on you and Namjoon.

“Are you here for Kim Taehyung?” he asks. "I'm Dr. Min."

You nod, your heart in your throat.

“He’s stable for now,” Dr. Min explains, “but he's still in critical condition. We’re doing everything we can.”

“Can we see him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs. “Only for a few minutes. And you need to be prepared—he’s heavily sedated and has sustained significant injuries.”

“I understand,” you reply, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

Dr. Min leads you through a maze of hallways until you reach the ICU. As you enter Taehyung’s room, the sight of him hooked up to machines and covered in bandages nearly breaks you. You take a deep breath and step closer, Namjoon right next to you.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he remains motionless, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The severity of his injuries is evident in the way he lies.

“We're here, Taehyung,” Namjoon continues, noticing your slightly frozen state. “We’re both here for you. Please, fight through this. You and I, we're good pals, remember? Like brothers. You have to—"

Although the more collected one before, Namjoon begins to struggle with his words. You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Having known him for 10 years, you know that despite his strong exterior, he has one of the softest souls you know.

"I think I have to go, __. It'll be better if I see him when he's awake. I want to stay longer, but I just don't know if I can."

"I understand, we can't stay much longer anyway. Go home and get some rest. Dr. Min will call us when he's awake and able to talk."

After you give him a hug, Namjoon leaves the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung. You end up pulling up a chair beside his bed and slowly reach out to touch his hand. It's instinctive for you, the need to feel his heartbeat overpowering any other thought.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Taehyung," you start, your voice a mere murmur. "You'll push through this, right? Like in the movies you film. I confess I haven't seen any of them yet, but—but I will! That's how I found out about all this actually. We hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks, so I searched you up. Not in a weird way though, okay? Not like...anyway, I'm sorry I said no to you that day. When you asked to go for dinner, it threw me off. This whole thing with my ex-husband just has my mind in fifty million directions, so I promise it wasn't you. I hope you didn't think that."

"You've always seemed to show up for me, whether it's for the good of the company or even a little emotionally in some aspects. With the reputation I have these days, I'll always be grateful that you chose to work with me. You have a good heart, Taehyung, so much that I think if we ever got close, I think it might be unbearable for me," you pause, a couple of tears slipping down your face.

Just then, a creaking of the room's door momentarily pulls your attention away. Dr. Min stands a few feet away, clearing his throat—a gentle but firm signal that it's time for you to leave.

"I have to go soon, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Even if you're still asleep or not, I'll stop in and sit with you for a while because...because I need to be sure that you'll be alright. Namjoon will come see you too when he's ready. But I'll see you in the morning, alright Kim?"

You squeeze Taehyung's hand gently before heading out of the room, thanking the medical staff along the way.

When you get home, the first thing you do is head straight for the bathroom. Your whole body feels riddled with stress and exhaustion, and you know that the only thing that can offer even the slightest amount of solace is the warmth of water.

Yet not four minutes after immersing yourself in your tub does your phone ring, demanding your attention. Being this late into the evening, you figure it has to be Jimin.

But you're wrong.

When you reach to answer the call, it's actually an unrecognizable number that's flashing on the screen. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

"Hello?" you answer cautiously, curiosity getting the best of you.

There's a brief pause on the other end before his voice comes through, words slightly muddled. "Hey, it's me," he says, his tone soft. "I've been...I've been thinking about my life, you know? About everything.

"J-Jungkook?" Your heart sinks as you quickly decipher the owner of the voice, but then it hardens. It's obvious from the slurring of his words that he's been drinking. "Why on earth are you calling me? And at this godforsaken hour too."

"I told you...I've been thinking about my life."

"I'm hanging up."

"No, please, stay on the line for five minutes. Please, I have to tell you...what I've been thinking."

"You have three minutes," you sigh, ready for anything (except what he was about to spring on you).

"I wanted to save my company," he continues, his voice wavering slightly. "For my mom's sake, you know? My dad owned it and stuff but she was the one who was behind all the technology...and that's why I married you. You...reminded me of her."

Your breath catches in your throat as he reveals the truth behind his actions, the raw honesty of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You knew very little of Jungkook's mother, too, as he didn't speak of her often.

"And then...then there's the real reason I divorced you," he admits, his voice breaking slightly. "My parents had a terrible marriage, you know? My mom...she had to manage my dad's temper for years...he didn't love her at all. He just married her because she was smart and could make him rich. It made her so unhappy, but you know she loved him so much. She...she passed away when I was 16, and...and I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to be trapped like she was, because I'm like my dad you know? My feelings are...weird... I never know what the hell I'm...feeling. I'm probably not making a lot of sense am I?"

"I'm trying to understand." You want to hang up here and now but every time he speaks, you cant bring yourself to do it. The pain in his voice cuts through you like a knife, and it's a side of him that you've rarely seen before.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry for being such a dumbass that day I got my stuff. That was like, six months ago and I still hate myself for it. I shouldn't have made an advance on you like that. I was...I was immature, and I wasn't thinking."

"After the gala," he continues, his words becoming more coherent as he speaks. "I...I felt even more guilty, you know? Because, I still have a photo of you and Bam on my dresser. It's small, but I've tried to put it away over and over and over again, but I can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me...it's almost a year since we lived under the same goddam roof and I can still smell your perfume, I can still remember how you laugh with both your lips and your eyes...the way you scrunch you nose when—"

"What are you trying to say Jungkook?" You interrupt. "That you're sorry and can't get me out of your head, so you need my forgiveness to move on?"

"No! That's...that's not it at all. I mean, I do want your forgiveness but—"

"Well, what the fuck is it?" You hate how aggressive your voice is sounding, but the obscene amount of incoherent information he's revealing to you is overwhelming. "It's 10 freaking pm at night, I had a long day, I'm sleep deprived, and Taehyung's in the fucking hospital which is so distressing, so I'm sorry, but I can't handle any more of your cryptic messages!"

"I think I might love you," he finally says, his voice raising as well. "I know I'm...I'm being a dumbass, but I...I think I love you. I love you __, fuck!"

a/n: So....how are we feeling about Jungkook rn? Also, my darling Taehyung is taking one for the team here 😭 🤍 LMK what you think! Lastly, I understand the timeline of events is a bit tricky to follow, so if it helps I can put something in the series masterlist to help. Vote for jjk or kth!

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tags:

@jksjx @lovingkoalaface @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @neverthefirstchoice @whipwhoops @hubbytaehyung @jalexad @cassies-cookies @llallaaa @marshieeeemallow @baechugff @lovemazespluto @eegyo @iwanttobecalledaurora @harmonyflora @francheskarm34 @sftlrmin @saba-ya @11thenightwemet11 @yoursnixni @zafirowwa2909 @btsffreader92 @junniesoleilkth @iamcamlb @bangctans @lilliankoo @talyaaas-blog @blackswan18 @appleh4ad @hoseokteardrop @613tannies @whoa-jo @borahaeb1ch @getougf @chimmisbae @kookcobain @miniekookiegucci @purplelanterns @eegyo @inthemiddleofsomething22-blog @darkuni63 @bibimboppin19 @phanniefoo @chieftoadturkeynickel @existenciosa @dasommwa @minayas1998 @sumzysworld @pwd54gr54 @jellycake2109 @sigxx123 @00frenchfries00 @importantperfectionmiracle @stigma93 @lpgirl2324 @youremyjinearth @moonups-stuff @bubblyyz @hvnnibvni @ttanniett @secfir @urlovelily @iknowhistouch3 @nadzzzblog @itsmina29 @mochibites00 @syazzzlisa @ash07128

side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

807 notes · View notes

mopopshop · 5 months ago

Note

OR paige babysits rya while at practice because alara has too much work and caleb is being an ass! 🤗

To The Rescue (Paige Bueckers x OC)

———

Caleb: Can’t take Rya today.

Alara: Srsly? This is the 4th time you’ve backed out on taking Rya.

Caleb: Got shit to do.

Alara: Does that mean work?

Caleb: It means you don’t need to worry about it

Caleb: I’ll pay for a sitter or smth but I can’t take her

Alara: Gee thx, fuck off.

---

You slam your phone down in frustration, pissed off that Caleb’s putting you in a shitty position once again. Still annoyed, you call Paige to see if she can help out.

"Hey, babe," you say, trying to keep the stress out of your voice. "Caleb's being an ass again and I’m swamped with work. Instead of dropping her off at his is there any chance you can watch Rya for me?"

"Yeah baby, no worries" Paige responds without hesitation. "I have practice in 20, but she can come with me. She loves being at the gym anyway."

"Thank you," you sigh, relief washing over you. "Seriously, you don’t need to do this"

"No baby I want to, it’s fine" Paige assures you. "Plus the team loves her, it’ll be great”

---

After the call, Paige gets Rya dressed and takes her to the gym. The team is used to seeing Rya around, and they all greet her warmly as she enters, holding Paige's hand.

"Hey, Rya!" Jana calls out "Ready to be our cheerleader today?"

Rya giggles and nods enthusiastically. "Mhm!"

Paige sets Rya up with some coloring books and snacks on the bleachers. "You stay here, okay? If you need anything, just wave, and I'll come over."

"Okay, Paigey," Rya says, already engrossed in her coloring.

Practice begins, and Paige focuses on the drills and plays. She glances over at Rya every few minutes, making sure she's okay. Rya waves at her occasionally, and Paige waves back, smiling.

During a break, Paige jogs over to Rya, who excitedly shows her a picture she colored. "Look, Paigey! I drew you!"

Paige looks at the colorful drawing and grins. "That’s so good, Ry! Imma keep this forever."

Rya beams with pride, and Paige ruffles her hair. "Alright, babes, I gotta get back to practice. But you're doing great over here."

As practice continues, Rya's presence seems to energize the team. Her laughter and enthusiasm are infectious, and even Geno can't help but smile when he sees her cheering them on.

After practice, Paige scoops up Rya and spins her around, both of them laughing. "Did you have fun today?"

"Mhm! Got to color lots and be with you" Rya says, hugging her tightly.

Paige kisses her cheek. "And I love having you here. But let's get home, okay? Mommy’s probably waiting”

---

When Paige brings Rya home, you’re finally finished with your work and eagerly waiting for them. Rya runs to you, chattering about her day at the gym.

"Mommy! I watched Paigey play, and I drew pictures, and it was so much fun!"

"That sounds amazing, baby," you say, lifting her into your arms. You turn to Paige, gratitude shining in your eyes “Thank you so much, P.”

Paige smiles, leaning in to kiss you. "Anytime, baby. We had a great time, even Geno was asking to bring her back” she laughs.

You pull Paige into a hug, feeling incredibly lucky to have her in your life. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Paige kisses the top of your head. "You'll never have to find out."

———

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers blurbb

243 notes · View notes

syrcus · 3 months ago

Text

FFXIVwrite 2024 Day 1: Steer

Non-WoL OC. No major spoilers. Pre-Calamity, minor setting spoiler for early 7.0 zone. 868 words ao3 link

Ask a dozen sailors what the most important part of a ship is, and you'll be given a dozen answers. You may be told of the mast, and how without it the ship can make no headway; you might hear of the galley and the comforts of a warm meal and good company after a long day's work; others still will tell you of pieces of a ship's anatomy you never considered, paints and metals hidden beneath the waterline to protect the hull from barnacles and the caustic effects of ocean salt. Soley Torunn never cared much for all that. Then again, he was never much of a sailor, and never felt at peace on the ship he called home his whole sixteen years.

It's a curious feeling, he realises, to stand on Tuliyollal's dock and watch the place he grew up slowly drift away. A handful of paces to his right stands a shetona woman with dark hair and bright eyes, waving enthusiastically, yelling at the top of her voice without a care as to whether it will carry to the people she's calling for.

"Be safe out there, Salka! And bring back something fun! And-" she catches herself and laughs, seeming to realise the futility of her effort, before lowering her voice and turning to Soley with a fond smile. "Well. I suppose we're left to hold down the fort."

Soley finds himself at a loss. She's a nice enough woman, too nice to be his mother's closest friend on this, or any, side of the world. He always wondered how that bond was formed, how someone so unkind could be loved by someone so her opposite. Perhaps they were living through each other in a way; his "aunt" had always wanted to go out and see the world, perhaps she in turn has some quality his mother values, though he struggles to imagine what a woman like his mother might find endearing. Maybe she's just a useful connection to those in power. He looks at her uneasily, all too acutely aware of the differences between them. She's smiling, warm and bright; staying in Tural this year had been her idea, she'd said it would do him good to strike out on his own a little. He had leapt at the opportunity at first, but standing here now he barely knows where to start. He takes a breath.

"I… What do I do now?" he asks quietly. He's spent his whole life a sailor's son, 'Árni and Salka's kit', never having the time to put down roots somewhere. Now that he has the chance, he can't help but feel like a ship with a broken mast, forced to weigh anchor far from home.

"Well, we can get you set up in a room, or get some food, or-" Not the mast, he realises as his aunt chatters on, it's the rudder I'm missing. It's a discomforting thought, to be directionless, unable to change course by his own hand. At sea or on land, his fate always seems to sit in the hands of those around him. I need to get out of here.

"I'm sorry, Auntie," he cuts in. "I think I need some time alone. A walk perhaps." He doesn't wait for a reply before turning to leave, and doesn't say goodbye. He knows his aunt well enough to know she'll find him again sooner or later, she's persistent and well-practiced at hunting down lost boys. Her own child, as far as Soley knows him, also prefers solitude more often than not. He pays little attention to where he's going, just a vague sense of 'upwards'. He cuts through the markets and the plaza, and avoids the residential district, his mind racing and empty all at once. The only thing he's sure of is that he needs distance, from the Aalto and the person he was aboard it, from the docks and the sea, from anyone and everyone. Tuliyollal is, he thinks, a good city. It's bright, and colourful, and its people even moreso. The towns of Aldenard and Vylbrand seem grey and small by comparison, and for all its colour Kugane has always been so rigid. For as long as he can remember, the months spent in Tuliyollal between long days at sea have always been his favourite. A small mamool ja child runs past him, giggling, their mum chasing behind and telling them to slow down. What is it like, Soley wonders, to grow up loved? To be tucked in to a soft bed a night, one that doesn't sway to and fro until nothing feels solid anymore?

As he walks, his thoughts turn further to his own life, a ship as its metaphor. For as long as he can remember, someone has manned the helm; he may have had no choice over the direction he took, but his course was charted and mapped. Now, it seems, the wheel spins wildly, every path and none at all open to him in unison.

Ask a dozen sailors what the most important part of a ship is, and you'll be given a dozen answers. Ask Soley Torunn, though, and he will say,

"Where it's going."

#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite #c: soley #fic tag #fic: soley #do i have a writing blog i could've put this on? yeah #is it ancient and disused? also yeah #anyway i didn't edit or even really reread this i'm tryna de-rust the writing a bit because i used to love it #and soley's eating my brain something chronic these days #i'm posting this here hours after posting to ao3 because i ummed and ahhed lol #but we ball!

16 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 6 months ago

Note

Of your ocs, who is willing to hold my hand and pull me along while I (wobbily) try to balance on my skateboard lol

I mean, they're all willing to help you somehow. For some of them, using the term "help" might be subjective.

Karasu, Meta, and Seraphiel are the most patient. They will bug you about safety and wearing your helmet and even if you feel silly, it's hard to resist their pouting faces that brighten up as soon as you agree. They're so careful when they secure the buckle under your chin so it doesn't pinch you. Karasu and Seraphiel hold your hand and walk beside you; Meta is bouncing all over the place, going from side to side and front to back again. Meta is also the one who makes the most fuss if it looks like you're going to fall and chances are you both end up on the ground, but he's happy that he broke your fall. The other two simply tighten their hold so that if you lose your balance, you'll fall into their arms instead.

Tenebris, Gabriel and Uriel really don't see the point of skateboards. Is it fun? It doesn't seem faster than cycling, why don't you just do that? Wouldn't using portals to travel be easier? Despite their skepticism, they will agree to help you because they can't say no. Gabriel and Uriel each hold one of your hands so you're supported by both of them. Tenebris just winks when you call him a show-off for levitating in front of you so he can hold both your hands and gently guide you forward.

Azra and Zee offer to help too, but they're "helping" you together which means they get a bit distracted by their own bickering. If you convince Zee to try riding your skateboard after, Azra's got his D.D.D. out and he's gathering lots of blackmail material for later (how you convinced Zee to put on your helmet with the fake devil horns, he'll never know). Azra tries to ride your skateboard after. He's probably the best out of any of the OCs, but he gets a little cocky and loses his balance. Of course he was too cool to wear a helmet (he grumbled there was no way it could be as dangerous as his motorcycle so what was the point). His hair and outfit are a bit of a mess and he chuckles when he he takes your offered hand and pulls himself up from the ground, but his good humor fades when he realizes Zee's been recording blackmail material of his own.

Belial wants to hold your hand while he rides his own skateboard beside you. He's just as wobbly and unpracticed as you are, but he somehow manages to keep you both from falling over.

#jes.replies #jes.oc asks

23 notes · View notes

yandere-fics · 1 year ago

Note

how would your ocs react to their darling say they would rather die than be with them

♡ How They React To Their Darling Saying They'd Rather Die Than Be With Them ♡

(I only did this for the city ocs because I have another thing I'm writing currently for the kingdom ocs)

She freezes when the words exit your mouth, trying her best not to react. You just want a reaction from her right? More love or attention? Maybe you want her to take you on a nice date? A gift? Yes it has to be something like that because there is no way you would say that and mean it.

"Babe, can you please not be so mean to me? I promise you that I will give you anything as long as you ask for it. You already know this..." She pauses, someone must have put this idea in your head. There's no way her soulmate could come up with such a cruel ploy for attention. Someone else told you it would be a good idea to say that and you being her sweet naive mate just believed them.

"Babe, come here real quick." She pulls out a pen and paper. "I just want to write down the info on the person who put you up to this."

Her claws were digging deep into your arms as she dragged you into her apartment, flinging you down. You land on the floor of the apartment entrance with a thud as she glares down at you. A stark contrast to the calm expression she normally took with you. Even on the longest of work days when you rejected all her advances, she managed to keep calm. Mostly because this was the first time you were so fed up with her advances that you outright denied her.

"Y/N, I have done my best to treat you right." She takes a step forward as you try to scramble back. "I've showered you in affection, treated you as a proper mate, treated you like you were the sweetest little thing, and yet you consistently show me that you don't seem to want to be treated that way."

She crouches in front of you with a scowl. "Don't worry, if you're a good little mate then I'll give you the nice treatment again, just apologize and never fucking say anything like that again. If I even sense you're thinking something like that, the punishment will be harsh."

She felt like everything was crumbling around her. She couldn't let her world feel that way. What had she done that had caused you to think that way? H-had you discovered she was a murderer? Was her first impression really really bad? What could she repair?

"Ah, uhm I see." She held her arm awkwardly backing out of your space, trying not to start crying in front of you, that wouldn't solve anything. "Well, I'll just see myself out then."

She had to go see the boss. There had to be some kind of favor she could take out that would get her in your good graces. Maybe something like a temporary love potion just so you'll give her a chance and when the potion runs out, you'll realize how nice the past weeks were and be willing to be with her permanently. Anything to give her a small chance.

"Love, w-why would you say something like that?" She's beginning to hyperventilate. This is the cruelest joke you have made so far and even she can't tolerate that level of pranking. Please just shut the fuck up.

"Noo no no no no. Nuh uh, you know you didn't mean it and uhm you're just being a bit uhm dramatic cause you're mad at me. Hahaha, you got me really good. See I'm laughing, your joke was funny, a bit mean but funny." She instantly is by your side, scooping you up in her arms and not allowing you even an inch of space.

"Shh, no need to explain yourself. I know you didn't mean it so I forgive you. You know I will always forgive you."

She completely ignored you when you said it. You just wanted a response from her, clearly. She knew you obviously were just too stupid to realize you'd said one thing too far so she'd give you a moment to cool off and then she expected an apology.

An hour goes by in her office with neither of you saying a word. You, fearing the consequences of what you just said to her, and her, expecting you to pipe up with an apology any moment now. That moment nevers comes though so eventually she looks up from her paperwork with a heavy sigh.

"My beloved, don't you have something you need to say to me? I'm waiting." Your apology is quiet and rushed and she smiles at you, offering you quiet praise for your apology, hoping you both will forget this incident.

#yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere asks #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #my oc sawyer #my oc mirial #my oc runa #my oc nora #my oc kassien

67 notes · View notes

joanofexys · 5 months ago

Note

also 🔴 for anyone/everyone thank u

- @ninyard <333

🔴 Red- What is a trait your OC has that those around them don't see very often? Is it seen by a rare few or completely overlooked?

Florian - Flor is truly so emotional. He’s very tender and he loves easily and falls so hard. And most people don’t see it because he acts like a raging, apathetic, bitch 90% of the time. Mara and Jean are the two people who see it the most. Kevin gets to see it sometimes. And eventually Ilya gets it pretty much all the time. It’s warm breathe against Jean’s jaw and a murmured “I think I’m a little bit in love with you”. A barely there brush of lips against Jean’s forehead and a “I’m glad you’re getting the chance you deserved, I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to give it to you”. It’s Mara thrown over his shoulder and loud laughter in their first apartment and a “I’m glad that out of everyone it was you”. It’s sitting on soft carpet, dozing with his head on Ilya’s thigh, and “thank you for loving me back”. It’s flying out for one of Kevin’s games, waiting for him in the hallway and squeezing his hand before he goes to talk to the press, “I can’t wait to be on the court with you again”. He’s a little bit in love with all the people in his life and he doesn’t often show it.

Ilya - Ilya’s incredibly patient but it often gets overlooked due to his stubbornness. He’ll wait as long as he needs to for someone. His relationship with Florian is a great example. He’ll wait as long as it takes. But he doesn’t give up so a lot of his patience gets viewed as just him being a stubborn asshole. I think Florian notices it once he stops being pissed at Ilya for being Like That. Ilya’s the only one who has the patience to implement the partner system with Florian after Mara says she doesn’t want to do it anymore. The patience of a saint despite being a little shit about everything.

Mara -Mara’s incredibly sentimental. And she gets nostalgic very easily. She thinks about her family a lot. Everything before the Ravens. She doesn’t even really talk to Florian about it. How she misses her dad, how she writes her mom cards she doesn’t send every mother’s day. Her memories of her childhood are precious to her when she doesn’t have any items to hang onto it. However, that also transfers to the nest. After graduating she clings to those memories, to everything she has of the ravens. The good and the bad.

Emiko - She has godawful imposter syndrome. I mean imagining spending most of your life trying to be the best, actually being the best. You’re captain of your team, you make olympic court immediately because you’re just that good. And it’s never acknowledged because your little brother is just handed it all while you had to earn it. When Riko is praised for all the same things and she’s never praised for any of it it makes her wonder if she’s as good as she thinks she is. She wonders a lot if her name has gotten her where she is. She spends a lot of time thinking about how she must’ve tricked everyone into thinking she’s this good, that she deserves Court, because if she was really this good her family would’ve admitted it by now. Nothing she does will ever be good enough. For Tetsuji and for herself.

Jude - He can actually be so difficult to get to know and incredibly aloof and distant. Jude spends so much of his time caring about other people and being focused on giving them his time and energy that oftentimes there's very little of him left. He's very dedicated to his relationships and his friends and family but its to a point where he can know your deepest, darkest secrets and you'll realize you don't even know his favorite color or if he drinks coffee every morning or what he did over the weekend. He really has forgotten, in ways, how to even talk about himself. So much of what he shares about himself is attached to someone else that people struggle learning things about him outside of that. They know he loves his team and he loves his dog and he loves his moms. They don't know that he goes to the record shop on main street in the city he and Merrick live in every Sunday morning. They don't know that his favorite movie is The Mummy and he'll never choose anything else if he's allowed to pick the film on movie night. They don't know that his favorite color isn't red, it's green or blue (and you can't make him decide). They don't know that he started little league exy as a goalie and promptly burst into tears the first time he got a ball to the face. They don't know that he can quote the majority of the star wars films and that he buys every copy of lord of the rings he can get his hands on and that he's obsessed with the dinosaurs in jurassic park. They don't know that he did photography on the side to help pay for college. That he wants be a journalist and sports commentator after he retires, and only coach little league. Jude as an individual is very hard to know. He's so focused on giving to other people that he can often forget that they just want him as he is.

Merrick - I think it's really something only Jude, and maybe the foxes, see. It's how hard he tries. For everything. Most people think Merrick is incredibly uncaring and doesn't put effort into healing or forming healthy relationships. But only Wymack saw the late nights where he called his parents, attempting to mend their relationship. And only Jude sees the frustration over a lost game and letting down his team. Only he knows about the flowers left on his sisters grave, that they're the only ones regularly replaced, that he'll always fresh ones before the last bouquet can go bad. It obviously took so much effort for him to get clean. And he relapsed multiple times. And I think people overlook how hard he tries to stay clean. How determined he is to be better than his parents, to be better than who he was.

Angel - It's either his temper or the fact that he exists on the entire concept of "you never stop missing your mom". He's so angry, so often. And in high school that became very internal and after having Phoebe it's something he's very determined to work on and change. But the weirdest things will set him off. He got into fights all the time as a kid. And once with the foxes it was easy enough to piss him to the point of nearly taking a swing (though he for the most part he just tells the person that if they don't stop he will fucking deck them). He's got a pretty good grasp on it now, but because he doesn't express it often his temper definitely gets missed. And then there's the fact that he just constantly wants his mom. And that's something he's so so scared to admit. Cause bringing up his mom in his house as a kid was not allowed. His dad would get so upset about it and it only ended in pain for him. It's only during full blown meltdowns or panic attacks that he'll ask for his mom and it really slips out. But it's truly something that'll never leave him. Anytime Phoebe won't go to sleep he wants his mom. They win a game, he wants his mom. He got a 100 on his exam for the first time ever, he wants his mom. He has to book an appointment, he wants his mom. He can't fall asleep, he wants his mom. It is the littlest things. And he hates it because he can barely even remember who it is he's missing. He was so young that whenever he ends up begging for his mom he doesn't even have a clear picture of who he's asking for. She might as well be a stranger to him. Yet despite it she'll always be the first person he thinks of whenever he needs someone.

Emeryk - Emeryk clings to guilt like it's a lifeline. He has so many regrets. And it's absolutely not something anyone is allowed to know. He holds onto guilt that isn't his. He feels guilt for people who refuse to feel it themselves. He feels the guilt of his father, of his mother too, and of the man he currently serves. He feels the guilt of pain he couldn't prevent and the pain he, himself, endured. He is not a good person and that will never change and he feels terrible about it. He knows in every universe he chooses his own survival first and in every universe he feels guilt for all the people he chose to let suffer in doing so.

#asks #nin <3 #my ocs #oc: florian laska #oc: mara fasil #oc: ilya kostyk #oc: emiko moriyama #oc: emeryk wesninski #oc: angelo di fiore #oc: merrick carew #oc: jude reyes

14 notes · View notes

midmorninggrey · 3 months ago

Text

Corny Combat Dialogue: OC Edition

One of my favorite parts of playing Dragon Age is when all the companions start yelling. So I started a list of weird things my OCs might yell.

Cal the Canary

[Combat]

"Incoming!"

"We've got company."

"Cut them down!"

"Come on then!"

"Right, they're coming at us now."

"Was this part of the plan?"

"Horsefeathers!"

"Whoops, watch out for that one."

"I've got your back!"

"You should've run when you had the chance!"

"First time?"

"I'm going to hit you now!"

"My arms don't have the reach."

"I can't hold them much longer!"

"I'm feeling a little peaky."

[Low Health/KO]

"Andraste's arse, Anders!"

"Merrill - not good!"

"Get up, Isabela! Pretty please!"

"How'd they best Aveliene?"

"They got Varric!"

"Oh no, there goes Sebastian."

"No, Bethany! You'll regret that, you bastards."

"Fenris! Not while I live!"

"Hawke! Hold on, Hawke!"

"Fall back, Hawke!"

"Get to Hawke."

[Locks/Interactions]

"I'm stuck...(Again.)"

"I walked into a trap."

"There's a trap over here! You'll never guess how I know."

"Oh, bother."

"I'm not the one to ask for that, sorry."

"Why don't you let me take a try?"

"There you go."

[After Combat]

"Everyone here?"

"I felt braver when they were trying to kill us. Now they're just...on the ground, aren't they?"

"Maker, what a mess."

"That was fun. Let's never do it again."

"Hawke, have you ever thought of staying in? With a hot drink or something?"

Arden Trevelyan

[Combat]

"Be ready."

"Don't try me."

"Pray that you come back stronger in the next life."

"Is this how you thought you'd die?"

"Do not fear the pain - it is your teacher."

"Not today!"

"Stop sniveling."

"I'll break your skull."

[Low Health/KO]

"Seeker! The Maker does not will it!"

"Don't touch them!

"No, it's not his/her time!"

"Sera! Shit!"

"Bull! Gods."

"Ah, Solas is taking a nap."

"Dorian - no! You will not take him!"

[Locks/Interactions]

"Let us meet this moment with quiet contemplation."

"Fuck! More demons."

"Don't ask me where I learned to do that."

"I've been told I have nimble fingers."

"Blasted - shit assed - what bloody arsehole?!...And praise be to Andraste. Sorry."

[After Combat]

"Is everyone alright?"

"It's done. For now."

"May the Maker show us mercy."

"Take a breath if you need it."

"Let's move on."

Celeste Trevelyan

[Combat]

"They're coming this way!"

"There are things worse than death! I think."

"That hurt."

"Ow!"

"Back to the shadows!"

"I don't fear you!"

"Take that! And that!"

"Got one! Did you see?"

"I don't feel so good."

[Low Health/KO]

"Cole! I won't let them hurt you!"

"Wait, Solas fell!"

"I think Vivienne's hurt."

"I have to help Varric!"

"Blackwall - Get up! Victory!"

"I need to help them!"

[Locks/Interactions]

"Why won't it open...?"

"I don't want to do that."

"No?"

"I guess so."

"Aha! It's not so tricky."

[After Combat]

"Is it over?"

"I think I'm ready to go."

"Yuck."

#some of these aren't 100% unique #but i hope most of them are?#maybe there is a finite number of yellable things #in summary #Cal = WHOOPS #Arden = F-Bombs #Cece = Yuck #(also she's pretty quiet)#oc: cal the canary #oc: celeste trevelyan #oc: arden trevelyan #my ocs #dragon age ocs #dragon age #ALSO #please let me know if there is something weird your OC yells

19 notes · View notes

psalacanthea · 4 months ago

Text

OC Smash or Pass

pictures and tag by @tadpole-apocalypse! ty ty <3 (there's no screenshots b/c I don't have a good face morph)

Quick Facts:

Height: 4'11"

Age: 185-195ish she thinks.

Gender: Genderfluid/Female

Pronouns: Will respond to any

Sexuality: Pansexual (polyam/demiro)

Pros:

Comes on very strong, never have to guess if she's interested.

Happy to be female, male, or anything in between. Polymorph only lasts an hour, though.

There's never any baggage or clinginess because they just made up this personality yesterday! But they made it especially for you <3

You'll never have to see her again.

Will drag you on an adventure through the underbelly of the city you never want to forget and never want to repeat.

Constantly entertaining, always telling the most fascinating stories, singing, or making up poetry about how beautiful your eyes are.

Never jealous.

If you want romance, you'll get a romance like you read about in stories.

Excellent partner in crime.

Best one night stand you've ever had.

Cons:

Maddeningly whimsical. Will skip town without a word.

If you try to get to know her, she'll just make up an entirely new past and personality that she thinks fits your interests rather than be honest.

Lies. Constantly. It's pathological.

Also constant drama. If there isn't drama happening, they'll make it happen.

Whiner. Cries on command. Nothing is ever her fault.

Will not be friends.

Mauls you if you try to remove her from the bath tub.

Never has money. You're always buying unless you're robbing someone together.

Once she's learned everything about you she's interested in learning, you'll be discarded.

Remember that song she wrote you? You're going to hear that same song being sung in roadside taverns...about someone else.

50% chance rob you.

Might have been hired to murder you.

#tav: zynatheri rivati #she's the woooooooorst #none of this is actual romance ofc #that nonsense is for stories #memey things #I stole your formatting hehe :3

16 notes · View notes

call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

Text

Under the Willow Tree ||Alfie Solomons x OC (letters)

Summary: While he was roaming through paper works in his office, Alfie Solomons finds an unopened letter by chance. A letter written by his wife when he was fighting for his life at the hospital after his violent encounter with Thomas Shelby. Alfie still decides to write a reply... Unfortunately, he loses it before he can hand it to his Mrs. Solomons.

Notes: Letters exchange written for @raincoffeeandfandoms' event "The Peaky Receives Letters". The first letter was written by Flor (@raincoffeeandfandoms) herself, and Alfie's answer is mine. Hope I did a good job at portraying your sweet Alfie!

My dearest love, Alfie.

It's been two whole days since Thomas shot you. You're lying here in bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses who don't know if you'll recover or not. I haven't slept in 48 hours and I don't know if I will be able to again, not while you are there.

I write this letter in the hope that I will be able to tell you all this in person when you wake up. I have spoken to you as you lie there, but I can't tell if you can hear me or not. And the anguish inside me, it needs to come out. I've told myself that I have to be strong that I have to be fighting by your side, like we always did, but I don't always have the strength. And I'm so tired.

I decided, instead, to remember nice moments we spent together. There's a memory I have of us when we were 17, maybe you've already forgotten about it. You were already in charge of the bakery where you started working at 14 and you were starting to get interested in having your own "bakery". You always called the business you really wanted to get involved in that way, I guess it was easier to call it that, than calling it an illegal distillery. I always thought it was funny, even today.

We had gone on a picnic day in the middle of spring. We had brought apples and several of those little cakes you used to bake. We had planned everything and the day couldn't have been more perfect. I remember the sun was shining and I remember the tree we sat under. It was a willow tree whose branches touched the stream in front of which we were sitting.

I think the day was beautiful, at least is how I remember it. There were even ducks that we also fed. We hadn't been able to have a date like that in a long time because we were both working and really needed some time alone. Do you remember? We could barely see each other in the evenings. And sometimes not even that.

At first, it was beautiful. The food and you was all I wanted. But the things started to go wrong when we got distracted and the ants decided they wanted your pies, too. You were so angry with them! But we couldn't do nothing because, of course, they outnumbered us. So we moved from there, because it was a war we couldn't win. There was another tree, so we went under that one. But it happened that we never saw the beehive. The bees were not happy with us. The way we run! We abandoned the basket and the remaining food there. Probably the ducks ate the rest. Our date next to the stream was terrible. I remember you were mad, because you couldn't give me the perfect date you wanted. But to me, it was perfect. I laughed a lot after that.

We have shared so many things like this, Al, and I know we have to keep making memories because we can't end up like this. I can't let the one person I loved my whole life, my first kiss, my first love, to die because of a bullet from Thomas Shelby. I know you'll survive.

I'll leave the letter in a drawer, hoping I'll never have to write another one like this one.

I hear voices, what's happening? They're coming from the room where you are. It sounds like your voice. Is it possible? Or is the lack of sleep making me hallucinate? I'll go and see. My heart is beating so fast…

Yours, always.

Rosie.

Ahuvi sheli,

As I was looking for some tedious paperwork, I found your letter by chance, hidden under the mess on my desk. I know this terrible event is far behind us now and that you are peacefully sleeping on the couch, snuggling against Cyril by the fire. Still, I can’t resolve myself to let this heartbreaking letter without any answer. You’ve opened your heart by writing this, so let me ink mine on the back of this same paper.

When I was laying in a pit of darkness, trapped in the flesh prison of my own body, I felt Death’s presence creeping in the shadow, waiting for me to stop fighting so that It could take me away from you. Fear paralyzing me, fatigue eating up my remaining strength, I was convinced I would die here without being able to kiss your honey lips goodbye… My heart ached at this sole thought. But then, I heard your wonderful and enchanting voice talking to me in this dull hospital room, and suddenly the thick darkness was not there anymore. I felt the sweet caress of sun rays warming up my skin and I smelled the intoxicating fragrances of your floral perfume — the last one I gifted you for our anniversary. And there I was, near the mighty willow tree we would sit by when we were 17. Even though I was alone, I could still hear you talking to me from a faraway distance. Each word, each sigh, each sob… I held onto them, finding strength in your love until I could finally reopen my eyes.

You always compliment how tough I am — both physically and mentally. Whether I am carrying huge bags of flour or handling the Shelby and Sabini’s situations. I usually answer that the strongest of us was you. After all, you were the one who kept fighting after the awful years these Evert bastards had made you undergo. I would gladly tell you that I would piss on Lawrence’s grave but since it is a letter I guess I should remain polite. Yet, despite how strong you are, I am deeply sorry for worrying you and involuntarily making you suffer after that cunt Tommy Shelby shot my fucking face. Living with the fact I caused your tears to run down your sweet face will be the bane of my existence, but I promise to make amend for all the sorrow I caused you.

Rosie, my beloved flower, what is the willow tree without your elegant frame? What are the birds’ whistles without the symphony of your adorable laugh? What is Alfie Solomons without Rose? Fucking nothing. And since I’ve risen back from the dead to pull you in my arms, let me write down our latest wonderful moment that happened yesterday: You were in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the tip of your pen trapped between your gorgeous lips. The more you flipped the pages, the more you were getting angry because you could not decipher my admittedly awful handwriting. I tried to make you laugh but you were not in the mood, and at some point, you thought I was so annoying that you threw a bit of flour at me without being aware of the consequences… We looked at each other silently for a few seconds, and then the same thought crossed our minds. We rushed to the nearest bag of flour and proceeded to turn our kitchen into a battlefield of white powder. You laughed! Oh, you laughed so much that diamond tears ran down your pinkish cheeks.

You laughed, my little Rose, and I fell in love with you again for the hundredth time.

Don’t fear the voices you might hear, they are just the murmurs of my soul whispering to yours how much I love you. Also, Fuck Tommy and his little bitchass bullets — this prick can’t even aim— for nothing will take me away from you.

Forever yours, mind, body, and soul,

Alfie.

Tag list:

@runnning-outof-time

@shelbydelrey

@there-goes-thefighter

@cljordan-imperium

@dandelionprints

@zablife

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@look-at-the-soul

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons x oc #Rose solomons #the peaky receives a letter #peaky blinders x oc #Alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons fanfic

106 notes · View notes

divinemare · 1 year ago

Text

Legend of a Mortal Love

┊ ➶ rhys x oc

┊ ➶ part four

part three

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"I can't believe you're doing this," Tara grunted again, rubbing the dirt off her hands so hard they turned red.

"I already explained, I had no choice but to say yes," Ariadne sighed, tired of the fight they'd been in for ten minutes now.

"Yes, but you're getting too much into something dangerous, something very dangerous!" The redhead sent a splash of water flying towards Ariadne’s face as she hit the puddle of water with her hands.

"What do you want me to do, tell the princess no?" Ariadne was getting extremely tired of her friends' attitude, and considering they hadn't made enough work to eat today, she was in neither the mood nor the physical condition to argue anymore.

"Ari, I just want to take care of you. You know damn well for who this is going to end bad, and let me tell you, it's certainly not going to be for them. You'll end up hurt, or worse, dead."

Ariadne rose from the floor with a grunt and an exasperated roll of her eyes.

"When I need you to tell me what's good for me or not, I'll tell you. Don't think me so stupid, Tara," and with that she left to lie down in her sleeping space, rolling over so she wouldn't see Tara when she came to lie next to her.

The place on her wrists where her chains had been a few minutes ago felt sore from wounds accumulated over the years that had never had a chance to heal. Ariadne had grown so accustomed to them that the few moments when she did not have them on her felt weird. Of course, their absence was replaced by those on her ankles, which would make it impossible for her to run. Not that any human could outrun a High Fae, with or without chains.

Ariadne had trouble sleeping that night, with the whole conversation with Tara replaying in her mind. Yes, she was well aware of the mistakes she was making, and the fact that there was only one possible outcome to her situation, and it was certainly not a pretty one.

It was one that would end her when Rhysand and the other High Fae’s got tired of her, when she stopped being interesting and started to become a liability. They weren't bad people, maybe, but still, there was no possible way Ariadne was going to get out of this alive.

And, being honest, would that be so bad?

༺ ♡ ༻

"And remember, if you get dizzy or anything, let me know, okay?

Too late for that, Ariadne had begun to grow dizzy as she stepped out into the open night and into the Lady of Night's view.

She nodded to Rhiannon, not daring to look up and see the female’s hazel eyes digging into her soul.

Rhiannon's mother's voice had sounded so sweet when she greeted her children, but Ariadne only needed to glance up and see her great bat wings, the black diamond tiara on her head and the shimmering black dress, to be instantly intimidated and lower her head again.

Then Rhysand had arrived, and from being dizzy, Ariadne had stopped breathing altogether and felt as if she would sooner faint than reach Velaris. His piercing, relentless purple gaze on her did nothing to calm her nerves, but only increased them with each passing heartbeat.

So, yes, she didn't feel dizzy, but rather physically ill.

Rhiannon held out her hand and Ariadne was not quick enough to grasp the situation.

One second, she was outside the Moonstone Palace, and the next, the world began to change so rapidly around her that it became impossible to find her ground. The chains weighed so heavily on her wrists that it seemed as if she was going to sink into this endless spinning of the world around her.

Just when she was beginning to beg the Mother to end it, it finally did. Everything stopped, the moon light and the wind hit her face so hard she had to gasp for breath.

She fell backwards, stumbling against the chains and the sickness that hit her so hard she didn't have time to take in the city in front of her.

A pair of arms caught her before she fell to the floor and embarrassed herself any further. At first, because the world was still spinning around her, she thought it had been Rhiannon, but then, as the arms felt muscular and much bigger against her, she realised that they couldn't possibly belong to the female.

Ariadne opened her blurry eyes and was instantly greeted by the black sky and the thousands of bright stars, and then by a purple gaze unlike the one she was used to in the palace kitchens. No, those were like a living night sky, full of secrets, but more beautiful than anything else.

"Are you all right?" Rhysand smiled sideways as cheekily as he could.

"Perfectly...", but her lies were stopped instantly by the gagging sound that came from her mouth.

Ariadne put a hand to her mouth with embarrassment written all over her face, as Rhysand smiled so simply again and laughed so lightly that the sound vibrated through her body.

"Always lying to me, aren't you?" His deep, cheeky voice sent shivers down her spine.

"I'm not lying, I've been through a lot worst than nausea."

Ariadne released herself from his grip and swallowed her nausea. The confident expression on Rhysand's face changed to a strange frown. But Ariadne paid him no mind as she returned to Rhiannon's side.

"You can look up now. My mother has gone to see my father."

She took a moment to consider it, still not feeling entirely well from the whole winnowing thing, nauseous enough to threaten to make a gruesome scene for Rhysand to once again discover her façade.

So she waited a couple of seconds before slowly raising her head from the perfectly cut grass. The scene before her took her breath away, and the nausea.

Ariadne had always loved the stars, they were the only escape she had in the Court of Nightmares, and she had always thought them beautiful, but this, this made her lungs ache for breath. It was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. The mountains that seemed to touch the sky, the river that reflected the stunning night. The small town, full of light and life, and the stars, oh, the beautiful stars.

"Welcome to Velaris, Ariadne," Rhiannon murmured behind her, a pleasant smile on her lips at the look of astonishment and ease on the human's face.

Ariadne's heart was beating so fast in her chest that she had to put a hand on it to make sure it wasn't going to burst out. All the dreams she had ever had could not compare to what her eyes were seeing at that moment, none could come close to the beauty of it all, and for the first time in a long, long time, a genuine, carefree smile joined the glow above and below.

༺ ♡ ༻

Velaris was beautiful. Full of live and color and music. Rhiannon had taken her to a tour around the city, but her ultimate favorite place had been the Rainbow. The music and colors in that side of the city had been absolutely breathtaking. They had stayed there for hours, and when her feet became sore and painful, Rhiannon, noticing her tiredness, called it a night.

“We’re staying in the Town House with Rhys and his friends, and Mor as well of course. My parents are staying at the House of Wind. So you won’t have to worry, ok?”

Some mighty words said to someone who was always worrying. But Ariadne nodded nonetheless to appease Rhiannon.

“Great, so, considering we’re far away from it, and I can already tell you’re tired, we have two options. Number one, we winnow, but seeing as you didn’t took it pretty well last time, I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”

Yeah, definitely not a great idea. Just to think that they would have to winnow again to get back to the Court made her stomach twist.

“And number two?”

“Number two…we fly,” Rhiannon said in a cheerful tone, flexing her bat-like wings.

Ariadne sighed, none of those options seemed like a formidable one. Just to think about being several feet away from the ground with little support whatsoever…but on the other side, to feel again like she did winnowing…

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances with flying.”

While Rhiannon beamed happily, Ariadne frowned in an attempt of a smile, but the fear in her face was way too evident to try to hide it.

Rhiannon grabbed her by the waist, telling her to wrap her legs around her, and then shot to the sky with a powerful thud, Ariadne had to suppress a scream, and instead gasped when the air hit her hard in the face.

“Wow you’re strong,” she breathed at the ease with which Rhiannon held her.

“You’re really light,” the female laughed.

Ariadne tried not to grimace. Light was one of the only two weights among slaves: you were either light and skinny for malnutrition, or built like a tree for the hard-weight work some had to do.

The fear of flying started to lower little by little, and then it actually felt nice; the wind in her face, the city above. Then they landed, and that appreciation of the moment ended when Ariadne felt a horrible dizziness hit her and an insane amount of nausea on her throat.

Nor winnowing nor flying, she would rather stick to walking the next time.

Rhiannon guided them towards a beautiful wood and marble house. Inside, a hustle of noises rang as soon as the dark-haired female opened the door.

“Oh, there she is!” Ariadne kept her distance as a big, hulking male stepped from the antechamber and into the foyer with a smile and big, muscular arms opened.

He picked the Princess up off her feet and swirl her around. Rhiannon laughed harmoniously and much more carefree than Ariadne had ever heard her. This one must be Cassian, if Ariadne could remember for Rhiannon’s stories.

“Cass! Put me down!” Rhiannon laughed, and then, behind the male, came another one.

Less muscular and not so tall as the other one, his face was perfectly crafted, a very, very handsome male, Ariadne had to say. But there was something about him that made the hairs in her body stand to end, maybe the shadows that seemed to move whenever he did. Or the fact that that same perfection crafted in his perfect face seemed to be hiding death itself. Yeah, definitely the shadows, she had faced death too many times to be scared of it.

“Az!” Rhiannon beamed with happiness when she saw the male.

Oh, so this one was Azriel. Ariadne tried hard not to smile as she saw the male give Rhiannon such a sweet look and smile while he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. The look in his face not reveling as much sentiment as his hazel eyes, but enough that Ariadne read the feelings of appreciation in them.

“You came!” She had been so focused on Azriel and Rhiannon she had not noticed the presence of someone else beside her.

Ariadne jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, and when she turned, she saw the impossibly beautiful face of Morrigan smiling at her.

“Oh, uhm-”

“Rhi, who’s our new guest?” The big male came closer when he finally noticed her, and Ariadne began to feel a little nervous with all the looks that were on her and the Fae surrounding her. “Hello, beautiful lady, my name is Cassian, and you are?”

“Ariadne. And stop, Cass, you’re scaring her,” a voice she knew all too well sounded from the stairs.

Her hair stood on end and her throat dried when Rhysand’s figure came closer to them, his hands on his pockets, as pristine as he ever was.

“I’m not scaring her you idiot, I’m just getting to know her,” Cassian turned around to face Rhys with an indignant stare, but then turned to look back at her. “I’m not scaring you, am I?” When Ariadne shook her head slightly, Cassian raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms at Rhysand as if to say ‘told you so’.

A hilarious scene, to see such a big male doing such a childish thing.

“How’s your leg?” Morrigan asked, making Ariadne look at her again.

“Uhm, better, thank you.”

“What happened to your leg?” Cassian asked, and Ariadne cringed.

“See? Now you’ve made her uncomfortable,” Rhys said, and Cassian and him started arguing about wether or not Cassian was making her uncomfortable.

“Oh, dear Mother,” Morrigan laughed, and unexpectedly grabbed Ariadne’s hand. “Come, I’ll show you-”

The blonde stoped her words when she felt the cold of the metal around her wrists. Ariadne immediately left Morrigan’s eyes.

“I couldn’t take them off, I didn’t know how to,” Rhiannon said next to Azriel.

Suddenly the whole room fell silent, not even Cassian’s and Rhysand’s fight could be heard. And again, Ariadne felt all those stares on her, and she just wanted to curl up and disappear, it was as if all her obvious weaknesses where being pinpointed in a room full of extraordinarily perfect beings.

“I’ll help you with that,” Morrigan smiled sweetly, and took her hand again.

Ariadne wasn’t really sure of what was going on, or if she should trust all this Fae, most probably not, really, but she accepted Morrigan’s help nonetheless, it wasn’t as if she had any option anyway. She would have to trust they still hadn’t got tired of her mortality, and just as she was going up the staircase following the blonde female, she turned her head discreetly, finding that Rhysand’s violet night-sky eyes were following her every move. He gave her one of his side smirks, and Ariadne instantly got an answer to her own question, one she wasn’t entirely sure if she was grateful for, or even more concerned.

60 notes · View notes

outeremissary · 11 months ago

Text

2023 Wrapped!

This is my first ever time doing a year end art summary (using this template)- I always wanted to when I was younger, but never felt I was creating enough work or that it was "serious" enough or good looking enough to be worth compiling. It's been interesting to reflect on a year that included so many creative ups and downs (and life ups and downs in general). If you'll permit me I want to do the little reflection ramble too, even if it's an inadvisable 5 (or now 6) in the morning where I live.

Some of you who followed me on Twitter probably know that I only "learned to color"- or rather found a way that worked for me enough to finish things consistently- in 2022, and rather late in 2022 at that. This is pretty much the first year where work I considered "finished" or "polished" included things that weren't greyscale, and it's absolutely the first year where I had attempted to do something in color almost every single month. When I look at this and see the range of hues it has, I really feel an incredible sense of achievement. I would not have imagined 14 months ago that I could stitch something that looked like this together, and 12 months ago I can't say I'd have felt confident either.

Despite having a huge artistic slump in the back half of the year (along with a sharp downturn in my mental health in general) I was astounded to find that for the first six months I had so much work that I loved and was proud of that it was hard to put this together because I constantly felt like I was leaving favorites out- works that I thought were iconic or were huge milestones or I just really loved. That was unbelievable. And that was only sifting through the "nice" stuff- I didn't even consider a mountain of sketches and doodles that I adored! Even in my busiest months and the months I was recovering from a major medical procedure (I got top surgery!!!) I had something to show, and May being a WIP is less because there was nothing in that month than because Aurien and Vio were the only ones who were fitting in the damn frame (side note: I'd be more thoughtful with template than aesthetic if I ever did this again).

Even in the five months I was convinced I had done absolutely nothing, I found again and again that I had more than I thought for every month (except November, where it turned out everything I thought I'd done was early December. you've been spared DUrgetash). I was creating even when I was convinced that I was never going to be able to draw again. And I was creating enough that I got to be picky filling this thing out and choose Tristian for October just for a laugh when other options were out there, and enough that I had options when I was struggling to fit something I wanted into the template frame.

Side note: Miss Leonelle, you were tragically robbed by the damn frames.

In making this I also saw again and again the connections that I made throughout the year. I have had the incredible fortune to make wonderful friends this year and to build on bonds that I already had- even some where I perhaps didn't deserve the chances I was given. @mountainashfae is all over this summary- in April, May, June, August, and November- and I've often felt I spent as much time on Vio as Balthazar this year, but there were at least seven other baronesses, KCs, and other incredible OCs I had the privilege of drawing this year who I desperately wanted to fit onto this and was not able to for one reason or another. I'm so happy to know so many creative, passionate people and to be allowed so close to the things they hold so dear. To everyone who has shared their creations this year- not just with me, but with anyone on the internet or in real life or quietly in DMs or in a Discord or wherever- you're incredible, and I hope you're proud of what you've done. And if you struggle with that, I hope you can be proud of the way you're growing even now.

If you've stuck with me this far, thank you. Sincerely. I really appreciate that there are people who enjoy looking at my silly little drawings and reading my occasional rambles, even if I'm a little erratic on putting things up and usually a bit distant by choice from fan communities. And if you continue to stick around, I hope that you continue to have a good time.

I don't know what to expect from 2024 when I've got a laundry list of projects from 2023 I haven't finished, but I'm hopeful about what it'll contain. There's a lot I want to do- more full illustrations, working on other media, trying more ambitious projects- but for now it's enough to just think about picking up the things I've left off and continuing to tie up those loose ends.

Here's hoping we all can find something we want in 2024, as terrible and unknowable as the new chapter is.

#really obsessed with the single non PF/D&D thing on this being fucking Library of Ruina. huh!! I still haven't played more than two hours #my carmen didn't make the cut but maybe another carmen counts too.#I think in total there are 2.5 things on here that were never posted on tumblr. june made it here as a sketch but I don't think color?#if I have drawn something for you this year I love your character and had fun. :')#if I ever did this again I would maybe just do something with normal squares that didn't look cool. for practicality #emiway time for me to pass the fuck out. everyone outside of the US truly I am posting for you with the times I choose to not sleep #love you all have a good whatever time it is #emi art

18 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year ago

Text

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: They're so cute I wanna cry -Danny Words: 2,304 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Alone Together' -by Fall Out Boy

XXXIII: The Slowest Slow-burn Becomes a Wild-fire

It's been a while since Janus visited my dreams, so I can't help but groan in annoyance when I see him in the Empire State lobby.

"Can't a girl mourn in peace?" I complain.

"We're happy to see you too," the right head replies.

"What do you want?"

"Your crossroad is approaching, demigod," he says. "We have a present for you."

"I didn't know you gave presents to go along with the existential crisis!" I cross my arms.

"Funny," the left head sneers.

"We're here to talk to you one last time..."

"For now," Leftie adds.

"Let me finish!" says Right. "Arae Jackson. You have to choose."

"I choose to wake up!"

"War is coming," Right ignores me. "The end of a story."

"The start of another," Leftie continues.

"A chance for a good life. A short one."

"But happy," counts Left. "As happy as it can be."

"Or..." Right grins wickedly.

"Or!" Leftie exclaims with delight.

"Or?" I ask impatiently.

"An opportunity to fix your mistakes!"

"Though no good deed goes unpunished. Meddling is pricey, Jackson."

"Small cost for greatness," Right sighs. "And a child of Olympus doesn't dwell on sacrifice."

"All gods are flawed anyway," Leftie chuckles. "You'll fit right in!"

I feel something cold run down my spine. "I-I don't understand..."

"We know," they reply.

"That's the fun of it!" Left cackles.

"One thing's for sure," Right smirks. "If you choose wrong, everyone dies!"

The dream goes away, and the floor with it. Everything around me is pitch-black but I can hear the roaring of a creature—A sulfuric smell burns my nose, and I start choking.

Ara gives most of her food as an offering to the gods—her stomach feels the size of a walnut—then takes little sips from her goblet before abandoning the table. She leaves without even glancing at Cabin Nine's table.

She doesn't want to see Leo; if he looks normal, or if he looks even worse than she does, neither of those is going to make her feel better. Ara wishes she had someone to talk to who could give her all the answers. But alas, the more she grows, the more she realizes just how tragically lonely life is.

"Hi, beautiful. I saw you and thought—'Wow, I should follow her to a secluded area, that'll make her like me'," Leo speaks behind her as soon as she reaches the beach.

He's more nervous than he'd like to admit, but his hands betray him, fidgeting nonstop. He's wearing a clean pair of cargo pants and a camp shirt, he also tried to brush his hair but the wind is making it messy again.

"I, er..." Ara can't help feeling dizzy knowing Leo took his time to get clean and look nice just for her.

"Hang on," he's got a blanket over his shoulder, the boy holds it and walks past her. "You're always giving orders, let me give it a try..." he places the fabric over the sand. "Sit."

Ara doesn't know what to expect from Leo, he picks up a little basket that she hadn't noticed a moment ago, and her body lights up when she realizes he's prepared a picnic.

"You didn't eat," he sits next to her. "Me neither. Jason said you get hungry during the date anyway, so I thought it'd be a good idea to eat while we talk and..." he clears his throat, trying not to feel self-conscious. "It's cheesy but—"

"It's perfect," Ara hugs her knees. "I've never done anything like this, but cheesy's a good way to start, I think."

"I'm counting on it, 'cause that's all I've got," Leo mimics her pose in a more relaxed way. "But if you end up not liking it, we can try something else."

Ara can't make eye contact yet, so she keeps her gaze on the food. "So uhm... what's in the basket?"

"Double-stuffed Oreos and a six-pack of cokes," the boy rubs his neck. "That's all Travis Stoll could get me on short notice."

Ara's faced armies of monsters without flinching, but a first date stresses her beyond belief. "I like Oreos."

Leo moves the basket closer to her. "Help yourself."

She opens a package. "When I first got here, I asked for a stuffed cookie the size of my palm. Silena wanted me to eat healthier, she said I wouldn't grow otherwise, but I didn't grow either way. I blame the orphanage, didn't give me enough formula when I was little."

Leo chuckles. "Well, girls stop growing until they're like, twenty-one. You've still got time."

Ara laughs too, she glances at him afterwards. "You lived in an orphanage too, right?"

"Sorta," he makes a face. "Foster homes."

"Plural?"

"I was always running away. They would move me around, hoping I'd stop."

"Maybe if I'd stayed in the orphanage, we would've met. If it weren't for Hedge, I would've stayed in that place... for too long."

Leo knows that isn't true. Most people would adopt someone like Ara right away: Intelligent, polite, and with the face of an angel. That is exactly what happened when the Jacksons met her, they fell in love.

She's the kind of girl Leo would've avoided because they made him uncomfortable. It was pure luck that they met when Ara was in a horrible mood, Leo had been able to act somewhat normal (his normal) around her, which then caused Ara to give him a chance.

"I'm glad Hedge found you," he admits.

"Me too," the girl shrugs. "Even if people still think I'm a problem, at least I've got some friends here."

"Yeah, know what you mean," Leo grabs an Oreo. "I have an aunt—still out there probably—she loved saying that I was wicked..." he laughs dryly. "She's the reason I ended up in foster homes—The rest of my relatives turned their backs on me thanks to her."

Ara doesn't want the conversation to be so heavy, they're supposed to be sorting out their... whatever they have going on, so she tries to lighten up the mood.

"Hey, I just realized... I don't think we know each other well. We should do something about that if we're going to... date."

Leo smiles a little. "You're right. How do we fix it? D'you want to play twenty questions?"

Ara nods. "You're Mexican-American, right? Do you speak Spanish fluently?"

She's aware that is a stupid question, but it's all she can come up with. Fortunately, Leo finds it amusing. "'Course I do! Want me to teach you some curse words?"

"Sure," she grins. "I can teach you how to swear in French and Italian, though sometimes I still get the Italian wrong, but maybe you'll find that one easy, I've heard is similar to Spanish."

"Wow," Leo leans back and smiles. "You're so smart."

It's weird to be on the receiving end of flirty behavior. Most people assume Ara can't be flirted with, fearing Percy or Lily will step in to murder them, so they never try. It's a bummer, she's still Aphrodite at the core and wants all the compliments, and she loves that Leo is so willing to deliver.

"So what's your favorite food? And you can't say tacos, I already know that one."

Leo grins, it's nice to know Ara pays attention to him. "Enchiladas with arrachera—and I know what you're thinking, but enchiladas are not tacos. My mom used to make a salsa with habaneros, she was always shocked to see I could eat a whole plate without sweating."

Ara smiles. "You were close to your mom?"

"Yup. She was the best."

"You were a mama's boy?" The girl teases him.

Leo snorts. "Maybe. My kid self would've kicked your kid self's butt all the same."

"Is that how you decide to approach this?" She giggles. "I'm your crush!"

"You started it!" He replies, also grinning. "And I was a tougher kid than you ever were."

"I was good at exploding things, I could've blasted your butt into space."

Leo smirks. "Would've been worth it." He lies on the blanket, both hands behind his head. "So... you ever met your mortal parent? The one who fell for Aphrodite?"

Ara makes a face. "That jerk abandoned me as soon as I was born," she says, playing with the sand around her feet. "He didn't want to be a dad."

That's not so hard to believe, what's hard to believe is that it happened to Ara. The beautiful, intelligent girl sitting next to him. "Why would he do that?" It surprises her just how stunned he sounds. "Did you look for him?"

"What for?" She wrinkles her nose. "He named me with the sole purpose of insulting my mother, can't be clearer than that."

Leo stares at her. "But it's a compliment, you know that, right?"

Despite the topic, Ara feels like laughing. "How is that a compliment? He called me a curse!"

"Well, it's a curse to the world that you're so pretty."

Ara blushes and laughs. "You're an idiot."

Leo grabs another Oreo, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, I can be your idiot anytime, just say the word."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The girl watches the sun sink under the sealine. Slowly, the moonlight illuminates their features, and there is an orange tint to it coming from the distant campfire. Ara feels at ease for the first time in months.

"I like this a lot," she says. "A solid first date."

"M'glad," Leo sits up to face her, but she's not ready to look at him. "I wanted you to feel comfortable. Like when I'm with you... I don't have to keep my hands busy."

"I'd like to keep your hands busy, though..." Ara replies quietly.

The boy inhales so sharply he chokes. "W-What?"

"See that constellation?" She changes the subject, too flustered to keep the other going. "I met her."

"What?" Leo repeats, even more confused.

Her heart is pounding and she's sure he can hear it. She's terrified, but she has to be brave. Ara reaches for his hand and holds it firmly. "She was a hunter of Artemis, died while saving Annabeth... Her name was Zoë."

Leo's skin glows golden, but it's flickering like he's fighting it back. "Ara, I'll burn through the blanket if you don't let go of me."

She tries to take her hand back. "Sorry—"

Leo tightens his grip. "The way you... all I've ever..." he takes a deep breath and stares at Zoë's constellation. "I'm not good with words."

"I know."

He shakes his head. "And you like me anyway? I don't understand, you should be with someone like Jason."

The girl frowns. "Says who?"

"You can have anyone you want... are you sure you want me?"

Ara's chest tightens at his words. "I don't think I'm worth many things, Leo, but I got them. Because I asked for them."

"Yeah, but—"

"You're the first person that's ever asked me out," she laughs. "You're the only one who cares about me this way. You said I didn't have to be alone, and that you could be whatever I needed. You didn't mean that?"

"I did," Leo replies quickly, but his grip is loosening. "But—"

"Shouldn't I be with the boy who wants to look after me?"

"It's just..." he scowls at the sand, kicking it lightly. "You're one of the highlights of my entire life. I don't wanna mess it up."

"I want you to hug me sometimes," she scoots closer to him, nudging his shoulder. "I'm not asking you to bring me the moon!"

"I know, Ara," Leo hugs his knees again and supports his head on them, pouting like a little kid. "But being myself isn't good enough."

Ara tries not to smile, but she fails. "I know how that feels..."

"No, doll. I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but people don't fawn over me. Not even you."

She snorts. "I can change the way I show my affection if you need me to."

"I'm talking about a real problem here: the genetics I was born with."

"You do remember you're half god, right?"

"You do remember how Hephaestus looks, right?" He asks in the same tone.

Ara wants to laugh. She also wants to never talk to boys again for the rest of her life. "I'm not enjoying the anticipation as much as I thought I would."

"That makes two of us..." he sighs. "I warn you, this might happen way too often. I overthink and spiral, I regret saying things as soon as they leave my mouth, and sometimes I don't even realize I've said something wrong until hours or days later."

"Very ADHD of you," she muses.

The way the moonlight falls on her face makes it look like she's also a constellation. Ara is as attractive as she is unsettling, and it's only making Leo like her more.

"So what do we do?" The girl asks. "Should we take it slow?"

Leo purses his lips. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and no matter how much it frightens him, he's desperate to hold her close once more. "I don't do slow."

Leo kisses her. His lips fit hers like they were meant for this, and her heart has never beaten as fast as it does now. Leo glows to his total capacity, and Ara closes her eyes so the light doesn't hurt her. Every bad thing that's ever happened to them suddenly is not such a big deal after all.

Leo's hand settles on her waist as he moves forward, he's never kissed anyone like this, but he can't get enough of her. Everywhere he touches feels like fire on her skin—and it could be—but she's too delighted to care.

When the kiss ends, Leo stares at her like he can't believe she's welcoming his touch, that she wants it. Ara runs a hand through his hair, and that causes his breath to hitch. He pushes himself away, cheeks flushed and nose very much on fire. Ara bursts out laughing at the sight.

"Calm down!"

He scowls and it's like she can hear him say: "Do you think I can do that right now?" Leo shakes his head in disbelief, leaning in to kiss her a second time. Ara tries to keep the flames under control and the boy chuckles at her actions, but he doesn't stop kissing her.

"You'll burn me!" She giggles.

In response, Leo just wraps his arms tighter around her.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

#twoidiots writing #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #doo

16 notes · View notes

cosmiccrushes · 8 days ago

Text

Mints & Movie Stars

Sanji X OC || 2.9k words

Summary: Movie star Vinsmoke Sanji and his personal assistant, Peridot "Peri" Winters, head out to a known pirate island to film his next big movie. Will Sanji be able to keep his feelings for Peri hidden? Just how many mints can one man ask for before it gets suspicious?

notes: I am very much thinking about all my favorite kdrama tropes and business romances while writing this. Just light, angsty fun :)

Also on AO3!

CH 1

Peri stares across the table at the woman interviewing her boss, her blood roaring in her ears. Sure that, this time, she'd misheard this same asinine question she's been hounded by ever since she took this job position.

Who would've known that being the personal assistant to one Vinsmoke Sanji, movie star, would immediately relegate her to an existence where questions like “Tell me Sanji, has your new assistant made any romantic gestures towards you?” and “Sanji, have you been able to set boundaries with your new assistant?” were the only acknowledgement she warranted. And the questions weren't even directed at her! She'd be hovering right there in the background, standing just behind Sanji as he faced down a line of reporters. And no one had asked her once if she was busy swooning over Vinsmoke Sanji instead of doing her job, it was just assumed she was. Peri wouldn’t even be within eyesight of reporters if she had any say over how she did her work. But Sanji insisted upon her constant presence wherever he went. Gods forbid she not be nearby to address his every request. So, the reporters spotted her and directed their salacious questions to Sanji, looking for juicy gossip that didn’t exist.

Because she was not, by the way, swooning over him. As far as she was concerned, Vinsmoke Sanji could keep his dashing good looks and debonair charm all to himself. It was enough that her job meant she had to deal with his persnicketiness, his constant demands on her time, his chaotic schedule. She had no room to add a crush on him to her already extensive list of responsibilities.

Peri never even would've taken this job- despite the fact she was a damn good personal assistant- if her last job hadn't imploded and if her friend, Tak, hadn't gotten her the referral.

***

“Come on, it's perfect!” Tak pleads with her. “You'll move up the career ladder from pigheaded, rude as hell businessman to movie star.” Tak fans her hands through the air theatrically as she says this. “And we'll get to work together all the time! Perfect!”

“I don't know, Tak,” Peri groans, face shoved into a pillow on her bed. “There's no way I'm getting a reference from that bastard. How am I gonna get past a background check to work for a celebrity?” Peri groaned into her pillow again, for emphasis.

“Don't worry about that, Peri. I'm the only one Sanji will let touch his hair and Rachel loves me. I'll talk to her about your situation- generally, no details, so stop glaring at me- she'll give you a chance, I promise.”

Peri held onto her glare for a few seconds longer, before dropping her head back to the pillow, smushing her cheek against the plush material. She knew Tak was right and she needed to capitalize on the immense benefits of having a best friend who was the sole hair stylist for the premier celebrity of the East Blue. Peri had even met Sanji's agent, Rachel a handful of times through Tak towing her along to posh social gatherings. Though she hadn’t done more than see Sanji from afar across a crowded room of VIPs.

“What would I do without you, Tak?”

Her best friend shivers, wiggling her shoulders and holding her palm up. “Please, Peridot, don't make me think about it. Your life without me is too bleak to contemplate.” Tak winks at her and Peri laughs.

Maybe things would be okay.

***

Wrong. Things were not okay. Those were the catalyst (catastrophic?) events that led her to sitting across from an eager-eyed reporter, staring at Sanji hungrily as she asked, “Sanji, the readers are dying to know. Your assistant is always close at hand these days-” a suggestive eyebrow raise, “Is she a fan of yours?”

Peri is sitting right here. At the same table! Because she's an outstanding professional, she resists rolling her eyes (and throwing her coffee at the woman, though her fingers twitch against the mug menacingly).

Sanji smiles good-naturedly at the reporter. “Ah my assistant is with me today because-” Peri tenses as Sanji drapes his arm around the back of her chair though he doesn't touch her, leaning in towards the reporter as he takes on a conspiratorial tone. “We're waiting for some important news today. I didn't want Peri too far away when it came.”

This piques the reporter's interest. “Oh? This wouldn't have anything to do with rumors about a new Smith Stiegal film in the works, now would it?” Peri didn't miss the way the reporter eyed Sanji's hand lolling near her shoulder. Her eyes hawkish, like she didn’t want to miss a suggestive brush of Sanji’s fingers against Peri’s shoulder. There wouldn’t be one.

“Now Miss Asher, I couldn't possibly say could I, darling?” Sanji smiles smoothly at the reporter, withdrawing his arm and any acknowledgement that Peri is at this table drops away.

Miss Asher attempts to get Sanji to dish out a few morsels regarding the rumored newest action adventure film in the works from renowned director Smith Stiegal (which Sanji obviously cannot confirm or deny). All the hard work she put in to make these interviews even happen, brushed off and replaced with greedy hopes that some lucky reporter would catch her blushing at the movie star. Peri stews, recounting the earlier conversation that landed her at this table- being treated as if she's a fan waiting for her turn to take a picture with Sanji instead of the person responsible for him even being at this interview.

***

“My darling periwinkle,” (not her name) “I need you at that table with me today! Please, love, understand! The call about the role could come from Rachel at any moment. I want to be right there when you get it.” Sanji's pleading smile was irritatingly puppy-dog-like (and very annoying, not at all adorable).

“Sanji,” she said, shaking her head. “I don't know. This interview is with East Q magazine. They're a big deal. I'm not sure it's appropriate for your assistant to be at the table. I'll be nearby. You'll be the first person to know if Rachel calls.”

Sanji pouts. “Come on, Pear-” (also not her name, but Sanji had taken to calling her that and occasionally producing an actual pear to gift her with, which she braced for now and, oh wait-) Sanji produces a single pear-green rose from behind his back. “Please stay with me? This is a big moment for me, Pear. I need-” He broke off abruptly, looking down at the rose extended in his hand, then back up into her eyes. “I need my assistant at my side. I'm afraid I can't budge on this, Peri.” (that was her name, and an indicator that Sanji has slipped into serious, boss mode).

Peri sighs, taking the proffered rose out of Sanji's hand and lifting it to her nose, letting the delicate floral scent soothe her. “Okay, Sanji. I'll be there.”

Sanji's answering smile is gorgeous, just like everything else about him. A large part of her hated letting Sanji get his way, which was rather bothersome when her entire job mostly centered around making sure things went exactly Sanji's way.

***

Sanji's previous assistant- an older gentleman named Harold- had decided to take an early retirement. Or, had he been forced into it rather than suffer through one more pandering socialite conversation, Peri thought darkly as the interviewer continued to lavish praise on Sanji. Peri mostly tuned them out. They’d talk about her like she wasn’t there anyway, she might as well pretend not to be.

A half hour after the interview with East Q wrapped, the call from Rachel finally came. Sanji and Peri were still seated in the private room at the cafe where Miss Asher conducted her interview, the remnants of lunch spread on the table before them.

At the first ring of Peri’s phone, Sanji drops his fork, bouncing out of his seat. “Bloody hell, Pear. What if they didn't pick me for the role!? What if this is the beginning of the end of my entire career!?” He runs both hands through his hair, mussing it to match his distress.

“Sanji, calm down, you're going to get the role,” Peri says, rising from her seat as she presses accept on the call. She was very confident she was right. Everyone wanted a piece of Sanji right now. She had to admit (begrudgingly) that he was an excellent actor. Electric on screen. Smith Stiegal would be wild not to capitalize on Sanji's talent and popularity.

“Rachel, hi!”

“Peri, is Sanji with you? Are you alone?”

Peri resists another eye roll. Of course Sanji is with her- Sanji's always with her these days. “Yes, Rachel, I'll put you on speaker. We’re alone.”

“Great! Sanji?”

Sanji rakes an anxious hand through his hair again. “Rachel, yes, what did they say?”

“You've got the part, Sanji!”

Sanji blew out a relieved breath and even Peri couldn't help the grin that broke across her face. Sanji stares at the phone in Peri's hand held between them, speechless as Rachel gushes about how excited they are to work with Sanji. Then, before Peri can compute what's happening, Sanji's arms are around her, gripping her waist tight, lifting her off her feet as he spins them in a circle.

“We did it, Peri!”

A laugh sneaks out of her before she can stop it. But Sanji's joy is infectious and soon she’s giggling.

“A Smith Stiegal movie, Pear! I can't believe it! This is huge!” He finally stops spinning them, setting her down on wobbly feet. His arms loose around her waist, her arms (phone still in hand) dangling around his shoulders.

She feels a little breathless as she says, “I told you that you'd get the part. Congratulations, Sanji.”

Sanji coughs, taking a step back, his arms falling away from her. “Thank you, Peri.” His smile is sheepish.

“Hello? Hello? Peri? Sanji? Are you listening to me? What’s going on?”

Peri remembers the phone clutched in her hand. “Rachel! So sorry, what was that?”

“I need you and Sanji down at the office asap. The lawyers are on the way to review the contract and the schedule for shooting.”

“Of course. We'll be there right away.” Peri ends the call, looking up to a smiling Sanji, his cheeks tinged with pink.

***

Peri is left to her own devices (literally as she types away, responding to scheduling requests for interviews, photoshoots, etc. for Sanji) while the contract negotiations take place. Her mind wanders back to Sanji's surprise hug.

As aggravated as Peri gets with Sanji's demands on her time and requests for particulars, he's never inappropriate with her. Or, rather, not inappropriate in a way that made her want to break his nose and shatter her employability in the entirety of the East Blue. Sanji was charming, he was flirty. She was used to this. He generally directed it towards her at a lower wattage than he dialed it up for his fans and professional contacts. Sinfully suave and wickedly beautiful- that's just the way Sanji came.

But during her stint as his assistant, he had always been respectful of her. Sure, there were the nicknames and the occasional gifted fruit (and that single rose today), but Sanji never made her feel uncomfortable or worried for her safety with him. And the nicknames just felt so…Sanji. Integral to who he was. He’d slipped into using them with her slowly and so naturally that she’s actually not sure how long it took her to notice it. It’s hypocritical, she knows, to not be offended by it because it’s Sanji. When she would be offended if it were someone else. She’s decided not to investigate this too deep though- it just doesn’t fit in her packed calendar. -=a3NB A

He had never hugged her before. His anxiety and relief today had been so genuine, so human. And of course, Peri knew he was a person too. Albeit an obscenely famous person, but still, human, like her. It was just that, today, it almost felt like they were friends. If hadn't felt like her boss crossing an inappropriate physical boundary with her. It felt like a friend receiving life changing news and celebrating that with her. Peri didn't know what to do with that bizarre realization.

“Peri, we need you in here!” Rachel pokes her head out of her office, waving Peri inside as the team of lawyers file out.

“What's up?” Peri asks, settling into the chair beside Sanji.

“Pear, love, do you have any of those mints I like?”

Peri rummages around in her tote bag for the mints in question (the only brand, Sanji insists, whose minty flavor isn't disgustingly artificial). She drops one into his open palm, her attention on Rachel.

“So here's the deal, Peri darling, the schedule for the movie is full steam ahead. They want to begin table reads on location in two weeks. So-”

Peri interrupts, picking up on a couple keywords. “On location? They want us where in two weeks, exactly?” Narrowing her eyes at Rachel’s clearly placating tone.

“Well, you see darling, Stiegal wants a very authentic feel for the movie, so it's not going to be filmed here in Vennport. Stiegal’s crew is already all set up on Crow Island, so you'll just need to get Sanji’s affairs in order and head on over.”

This was theoretically fine. Movies filmed at a location outside of Vennport is common enough, though Peri hadn't yet traveled outside of the city with Sanji for any filming. What really made her aware that Rachel was asking for something challenging was the way she clacked away on her keyboard and took on an air of nonchalance as she delivered this information. Rachel was not nonchalant. She was direct, sharp, no nonsense but in a decidedly theatrical way.

“Is this fourteen business days Rachel or…?”

Rachel huffs. “Next Friday. They need Sanji there by next Friday.”

“Okay, that's ten literal days from now.”

“Yes, dear. So you'd better get to planning, chop chop.”

“Rachel. That's like a five day trip at sea to get to Crow Island! Also, isn't that a known pirate port?”

“The movie is about pirates, Peri. Hence the authenticity.”

Peri was authentically losing her faith in Smith Stiegal's organization and planning skills. Seems like they could’ve given Sanji and the agency a bit more time to prepare for a trip. But this was the industry, demands moved fast and she was expected to keep up.

“So, to summarize, I need to plan and prepare for a months long trip that we need to leave for in five days?”

“I knew you'd understand, you're a peach.”

“Pear,” Sanji muttered. At first she thought he was requesting her attention, but when he didn't look at her or go on, she realized he was simply correcting Rachel's fruit name of choice. Peri shakes her head, bemused.

There was really nothing for it. Peri would start with plans immediately. She was already running through her mental rolodex of travel companies the agency worked with.

“Oh and Peri, don't worry about the security detail. The production company has a whole team over there and the agency will of course send a few personal bodyguards along to look after Sanji. Just connect with Sal and he'll make sure you're set.” Rachel waved her hand in a dismissal.

Peri hadn't been worried about security. Everywhere Sanji went, agency-provided security guards came along. It was protocol. Necessary for Sanji's safety. Peri wasn't afraid of pirates- at least not in theory. But the way Rachel casually mentioned the production company's security detail made her wonder if she ought to be. Crow Island was well known in this part of the East Blue for it's breathtaking vistas (not that Peri had ever been) and it's rowdy pub scene (rumored to service many a pirate partaking in leisure activities). Honestly, most of the stories about Crow Island she'd heard involved debauchery, not dodgy pirates. Then again, maybe Rachel was just worried about Sanji getting into a different kind of scandal. The press will certainly look for anything to sensationalize (for example, a P.A. doing her job).

She turns to Sanji. “Can you get home on your own today? I'll call the car for you. But I need to speak with Sal and start booking accommodations.”

Sanji stood to follow her. “It's okay, Pear, I'll wait for you.”

High seas forbid, Sanji find himself without her and in need of a mint. Leading the way out of Rachel's office, Peri allowed herself an eye roll Sanji couldn't see. Once the door closed behind them, Peri turned.

“Sanji, honestly, it's going to be hours. I've got so much to get done and you've got the rest of your afternoon free, for once. Go enjoy it! Rest.” Peri claps her hands together. “Oh! Pack! That would be helpful. You can get started on the basics.”

“When are you going to pack?” Sanji asks. Peri shrugs dismissively, already moving down the hall to find Sal.

Sanji jogs to catch up, surprising her for the second time that day with a hand at her elbow, stopping her.

“I'll go home.” Sanji pauses. Long, slim fingers still wrapped around her arm. “Ask Sal to send Elle and Robbie with us. They're both excellent at their job.” With that, Sanji releases her arm. “See you tomorrow, Peri.” And walks away, leaving Peri's skin tingling where his hand had been.

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x oc #vinsmoke sanji x oc #sanji fic #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #one piece sanji #sanji x original character #one piece fic #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece au #one piece

6 notes · View notes