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syoddeye · 4 months

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the christmas party

ceo!price x reader / smut free / ~2.8k words

A very belated Christmas drabble thing. Definitely not inspired by real life events. 👀 Featuring a fem!Reader x Price, background Ghost x Soap, and Gaz, the incredi-boss. Might fuck around make this a series, we'll see! Maybe I'll clean it up and throw it on AO3, too.

CW: alcohol, substance abuse (mentioned) inappropriate comments from coworkers

You came to expect drama at the company Christmas party. It was as traditional as the optional White Elephant gift exchange, the hired group of carolers, and the ugly sweater competition.

Last year, a 'mystery' baggie of powder and a credit card belonging to the former Head of Sales was found in a bathroom stall. Two years ago, it was the unexpectedly raunchy dancing between an engineer and a project manager you swore hated each other. Three years ago, a division head went home with someone who was definitely not her spouse.

You'd seen a lot in your tenure. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hilariously mortifying.

Coming up on your fifth year with The 141 Group, you were a rarity. Most folks job-hopped. More power to them, no shame in gaining good experience after a year or two to leave for greener pastures. The fact you stuck around labeled you a 'veteran', a cheeky if not sensational label, though there were times you certainly felt like you'd seen war. Acquisitions. Rebrands. Reorgs. Yeesh.

But life at 141 suits you. You are an executive assistant, a good one. It helps that your direct supervisor and the VP of Finance, Kyle Garrick, a fellow 'vet', was an incredible boss. He lets you work from when you need to, doesn't micromanage, and treats you like a person, unlike other execs. He had faith in your ability to manage his calendar, prep materials, book travel - in short, you organized his work life. In return, whenever some new hire got too fresh with you, all it took was one teensy mention in a morning meeting, and by lunch, the offending party had only apologies for you. Most importantly, though, the job nets enough money to make rent and let you pursue your hobbies.

With years of Christmas parties under your belt, you were looking forward to tonight's low-grade yet cataclysmic event. Pre-gaming and primping at a fellow assistant's house, Jordan, you clasp the silver holly leaf pendant around your neck where it lies just above your modest cleavage. The dress code was simply 'Christmas Color', another tradition. Formal attire was expected, if not an unsaid requirement, which meant slipping into a gorgeous dark green dress you spied weeks ago in a boutique window. You thank yourself for earning that last pay bump to afford it because you look fantastic, in your humble opinion.

Lacing her leather Oxfords, Jordan gives a low whistle when you turn away from the mirror. "Like a big, sexy pine tree."

You smirk. "Thanks. Remind me why we both couldn't wear red tonight?"

"Because of the two of us, red is my color. Do I not look like some kind of holiday vampire?" She asks, standing with a sweeping gesture down at her deep, red velvet suit.

"More bellboy, but-"

"Rude!"

The two of you lovingly bicker all the way out to the awaiting car. The 141 Group, ever mindful of its image, always reimbursed rideshares for its company parties. Given the amount of liquor that flowed at these events, it wasn't only generous but smart. Like the higher-ups needed a scandal. The car ferries you across town to the ritzy event space at a local art museum. Leaving your coats at the complimentary bag check, you enter the well-underway party.

The events team needs a raise, like yesterday. The sprawling space was completely done up. Several open bars, a champagne wall, a photo op with a to-scale Santa's Sleigh, and dining tables with place settings that probably rival a monarch. Silvery white birch trees enveloped in lights line the walls, with clusters of small fir trees fully decorated dotting the space. The dancefloor was already busy with a DJ fully dressed as Santa.

Four going on five years, and it was still quite the sight.

You gently elbow Jordan. "So. Cheesy themed cocktails first or canapes?"

"Obviously drinks. I just saw one with an ornament in it!"

Three hours in, it was a dead heat for Most Dramatic Event. Two separate calamities slowly built throughout the night.

At the nexus of the first, Chad from marketing was almost blacked out. After winning the ugly sweater with a true abomination of a sweater (working lights, a mini speaker, and an ungodly amount of sequins), he celebrated. A little hard. He bopped from open bar to open bar as the bartenders cut him off one by one. He was trying to convince a coworker to grab him another Mistletoe Martini, and it was progressively getting louder.

The second was from the rumor mill more than anything. Apparently, a developer named Scott brought the wrong gift for the exchange. As the story went, his wife used the same paper for an identically sized gift, one of a titillating nature, and now he was visibly paranoid that he nabbed the wrong one on the way out the door. The man stalked the pile of gifts as folks drew numbers.

Jordan bet on the first, and you bet on the second. From the corner, you watch, giggling behind a cup of Prancer's Punch.

The sound of your name drew your attention. Kyle, in a charcoal gray suit with a sleek snowflake tie bar and green tie, approaches with a Tiny Tim Collins in hand. Though you waved hello earlier in the night, he spent most of the evening in the company of who you deemed his 'buddies' - Johnny MacTavish, VP of Technology and Jordan's boss, and Simon Riley, the Chief Security Officer. You learned in your first month to leave the trio to it.

"Having fun, are we?" Kyle grins and turns to observe the twin events.

"I love this party. Every year, delivers just like Santa," Jordan gleefully said.

"Someone should stop them," You add, knowing nobody would. At least not Kyle.

And as if on cue, the man chuckles. "Not my circus, not my clowns."

The three of you chat, swapping bits of office gossip collected through the night. Not the most appropriate, but not the worst social crime, surely. You're the right amount of tipsy: warm and relaxed but solid.

The wager came up naturally.

"What do you want if you win, my pine tree?"

"Hmm. It's gotta be something outrageous but not a fireable offense. Hmm. Maybe I'll have you sing on a video call, pretend you thought you were on mute or something."

"...That's boring."

"Do I want to know?" Kyle asks, sipping his drink.

"We have a bet on who's gonna be this year's drama - Chad or Scott." You explain.

"Maybe I ought to get back…" Your boss said with a laugh. "Better not witness to whatever you two plan."

"Might be for the best. Night, Kyle," You accept the brief hug from the man, then poke a finger against his chest. "Listen, if I get one DM about work during the holiday, I'm switching your coffee to decaf."

Kyle claps a hand over his heart as if he's been shot. "Monstrous. Fine, have it your way, no work during Christmas…Now, behave yourself, both of you."

Watching him retreat back to MacTavish and Riley (who look quite cozy - perhaps another piece of gossip?), Jordan nudges you. "If I was into guys, that's who I'd be into."

"You and like fifty other people here," As Kyle's assistant, you're more than his Girl Friday; you're also a professional gatekeeper. You could wallpaper your apartment with the amount of cringy notes you've stopped from reaching his desk.

"Not your type, then?"

You whip your head back to Jordan, utterly horrified. "No way. Not that Kyle isn't an absolute dreamboat; he's just not my dreamboat. Plus, at this point, it would be so, so weird."

Jordan laughs. "Y'know, even though we've been work besties for a year, I don't think we've ever discussed this. What is your type? As dudes are not my specialty, I have no clue."

Your type, huh? As if you don't know. Your type's been the same for as long as you can remember. Big and brawny, the kind of guy who could haul you around. Dark hair. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-endow–You could still make it onto the naughty list.

Using better and cleaner terms, you relay this information to Jordan.

"Huh. A man's man. Whodathunk–oh! Oh shit, look who it is!" The other woman pats your arm and gestures with a nod.

Joining Kyle and his buddies, is none other than John Price - CEO of The 141 Group. Fashionably late (very fashionably late), yet another tradition. Adorned in a Santa red suit jacket and a matching red tie, he somehow makes the boring dress code dashing. Flanking him is a pair of bodyguards. He's just in time for the wager to come to a head.

God, he looks good.

As Kyle's assistant, you see John fairly regularly. Not that he sees you. No one above a certain pay grade sees assistants. You kind of just blend right on in. Not even Mr. Riley, whom you've been introduced to a dozen times by Kyle himself, recalls your name. When you tag along to meetings to take notes for the boss man, you assume you're on the same level as a lamp or plant. That doesn't mean you haven't ogled John Price before. Kind of hard to not to, what with his commanding presence. You're kind of ogling him right now.

"Wow, you really do have a type," Jordan hums with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," You hiss into your drink and look away, just in time to see Chad from marketing lift a gift box-shaped ice sculpture and smash it onto the ground next to one of the open bars with a frustrated yell. The poor bartender and caterers jump back, and the music scratches to a halt. A thick silence fell over the party, impressive for a crowd of over a hundred, and your eyes flick to Mr. Price.

He glares daggers in Chad's direction, then nods at the taller of his bodyguards. Without hesitation, the man crosses the event space toward a petrified, drunk-crying Chad. As the guard hauls him away, your coworker, or former coworker, you assume, bursts into ugly tears and then disappears from sight. But your eyes are still on John, whose gaze turns to the DJ. The music starts again, as does the chatter.

"Fuck yes," Jordan giddily whispers.

"Well, shit."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"...Unfortunately, yes. Yes, I do," You sigh and down the rest of your drink. "Before you swing the axe, let me grab another punch."

"Hurry back, I've got my thinking cap on," Jordan impishly smirks.

With a groan, you make your way to the nearest open bar. One far from Chad's little tantrum. Most folks are on the dance floor at this hour, leaving this particular bar quiet. Waiting in line behind other tipsy coworkers, a clearing throat behind you grabs your attention.

"D'you have a recommendation?" A low, gravelly voice from all your best dreams asks.

You turn, and the sweet Hallmark-worthy image that blossomed in your mind in the last two seconds promptly morphs into a nightmare. Not a running-for-your-life nightmare, but a you're-the-only-naked-person-in-class nightmare. Laughable, considering the topic of conversation not three minutes ago.

John Price stands tall behind you, arms crossed, testing the fabric of his red suit jacket. He smells like tobacco and something spicy, and his eyes are a shade of blue you hadn't noticed before. You never got this close. They narrow slightly, and you realize you haven't answered him.

"Prancer's Punch." The name sounds cornier aloud.

"Hmm. Brandy or rum?" He sounds unimpressed. Was he unimpressed?

You're quicker to answer this time. Except, you babble. "It's, uh, made with dark rum. It's delicious. I've had a few. The cranberry juice isn't too tart, compliments the sparkling wine and–It's good."

Santa, run me over with your reindeer.

Kyle would be humiliated to have heard all of that. You are humiliated for having said all of that.

To your surprise though, the corner of John's mouth hooks in a smirk, then he chuckles. "How many qualifies as 'a few'?"

You, apparently committed to acting moronically, answer honestly. "Five."

It gets you an actual laugh this time. His hand raises up to scritch at his cheek, flashing the band of a watch you're certain is worth more than your life, then juts his chin forward slightly. "You're up, miss."

"Oh, no, Mr. Price, I insist, please-" You start to sidestep to let him up in line, but his hand lowers immediately and stretches out to stop you. He doesn't touch you, but the hair of your arm stands up at the proximity.

John smiles again, and his head tips toward you. "I insist. Join me, Miss…?"

"Mr. Price?" A voice suddenly interrupts. The taller bodyguard that removed Chad steps up and steals away Mr. Price's attention. "The problem's been dealt with. Regarding…"

You don't hear the rest of the conversation because you hurriedly ask for a punch and bolt back to Jordan.

And Jordan saw everything. Your heart is racing, and you miss half of her teasing.

"You made him laugh. Twice. I don't think I've ever seen him smile, let alone laugh."

"Because I basically admitted to being drunk!"

"Calm down, you're not, you're solid," She reassures. "Besides. You saw that death glare at Chad. If he was upset, I reckon you'd be on the receiving end of one of those."

You groan and take a swig of punch. You hope you've had enough of the good stuff to burn away the memory of your embarrassing rambling. You look back to Jordan to say something and find your friend once again grinning devilishly at you.

"I just thought of what I want for my victory."

Any time, Santa. Put me out of my misery.

"What?"

"So…You know #AskPrice?"

You know where this is going, and your eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Jordan. Please. No. Do not make me post something stupid there."

#AskPrice was the name of the open channel at work. Anyone across the company could post questions for Mr. Price to answer. More often than not, it was a venue for bootlickers and kiss-asses to rain praises and share bad proposals. Rarely was there a legitimate question or a good idea.

"Darling, of course not. I have something far funnier in mind," She started, and you swore you saw the flames of hell itself in her eyes. "You're going to direct message Mr. Price and ask what he wants for Christmas."

Jaw, meet floor. "Absolutely not!"

Jordan laughs and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you in. "Come on. It's harmless. Believe me, I considered making you send a selfie or asking if you're on the naughty or nice list."

"He could fire me!"

"For what? It's just a question! He always says we're welcome to DM him."

To be fair, Mr. Price did say that at the end of every company-wide call or in email announcements. He always harps on 'transparency' and 'open channels of communication', hence #AskPrice. To your knowledge, however, no one ever takes him up on that, at least at your level.

"Jordan…Mercy. Please."

"My sweet pine tree, you lost fair and square," She releases you and pats your shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I bet he gets a thousand messages a day. The notification will get lost in the noise."

It doesn't take much more prodding and encouragement from Jordan. Your phone ends up in your hand, and you tap into the chat app. Your hand shakes a little when you pull up John's username and open the message dialogue.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas?

Short and to the point. Jordan calls it 'boring', but you're already putting your neck on the line for a stupid wager. You're not risking anymore by dressing it up. Bet fulfilled, you press send, quickly turn notifications off, and shove your phone back into your little purse. Jordan rewards you with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"That was terrifying." You whine.

"That was a rush. Come on. Let's dance."

The next morning, when you're all but molded to your couch and housing takeaway, there's a little ping from your phone. It's the chime of the chat app.

"Kyle, for the love of everything, it's Sunday–"

You nearly drop your phone.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #price x female reader #cod fanfic #cod fic #ceo!john price

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loofiedee · 1 month

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I finished wano and was so angry about their design choices that it made me draw OP fanart for the first time in months.

Design notes under the cut!

I wanted Hiyori to look more like Oden, so i made her features longer and Actually gave her Oden's eyeshape since that is. you know. a plot point?

Also very obvious inspiration from Ukiyo-e style woodblock prints bc I think having her be Stunningly Gorgeous And Painting-Like by the beauty standards of the era would have been fun.

I really love her color palette and silhouette so I didn't actually change her design much beyond that.

Momo has his mother's eyes in the same way Hiyori has her father's. Slightly downturned and extremely sweet-looking. I think this reflects nicely the way they each parallel their parents in the story, and the way each parent was important to them.

I made momo a lot smaller. I wanted the visual contrast when compared to Oden. Oden was muscular because he was running around fighting wild boars, but he was also muscular as a representation of him being strong and a capable leader. Momo didn't grow and slowly build strength like his father. Momo is awkward, and lanky, and wearing clothes that are far too big for him because they were never meant to be his in the first place.

In addition, I wanted to soften and round out his features. I wanted him to look just slightly too-young, younger than his body is, because I want everyone who looks at him to have a haunting reminder of the fact that he is a child being forced to awkwardly pilot the body of a man because of the legacy people forced him to take on.

I DID really like his unkempt hair though. I think it was a really nice visual representation of how completely and utterly he does not have his shit together. It makes him look like he was living in a cave for a few years and just rolled out.

And Also Hiyori Should Have Been The Fucking Shogun. For The Record. And She Should Have Killed Orochi By Stabbing Him To Death With A Hair Pin While He Was Helpless Bc Of The Sea Prism Stone Nail. Anyway, Bye.

#wano #kozuki momonosuke #kozuki hiyori #character redesign #one piece #op spoilers #i think if I draw Hiyori again I might draw silhouette inspiration from a secretary bird bc that'd kinda fuck if I do say so myself.

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gateau-au-earl · 12 days

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kuroshitsuji s4e1/ED thoughts

ok yall now that it has been over 24 hrs and I've seen the ep over three times, I have THOUGHTS. mostly very positive, everything was beautful to look at and the 1:1 comparisons between the manga and the anime made me very happy as a veteran kuro fan that had to live through the mess of s1 and s2 plots (even tho they might have a sentimental place in my heart just because of nostalgia).

but i wanted to come on here and yap about the ending theme and how it encapsulates sebastian and ciel's complicated and very interesting relationship. idk abt yall but im a big fan of the op and ed this season!

first things first just to get this outta the way, I dont interpret them as a ship so please dont come in here with that interpretation 👁️ I'm serious .

that being said -

the ending theme is beautiful in both its animation and what it says about the butler and earl's relationship. I'm just gonna get the gushing outta the way first but it was aesthetically GORGEOUS in its animation. the way ciel fell so gracefully and the colors with SID's music is cinematic perfection. the change in animation style is very easy on the eyes as well! gg cloverworks animation team!

this has been marinating for a while, but what really gets me is the scene where ciel falls. he is falling into darkness, when it suddenly becomes lighter, with the sun illuminating the clouds. sebastian "saves" him and they fall together across this very pretty backdrop.

the demon might've caught him, but that doesn't prompt him to rescue ciel, to stop him from falling to his death.

sebas instead gently takes ciel's hand to guide him there. he gives ciel a false sense of security, of trust, catching the boy when he's at his darkest place, but instead of saving him, he drags him to down to his hell. he is deceiving ciel with a beautiful view and promises in their contract that will ultimately hurt ciel. its cruel and will only lead to pain for our earl.

sebas is a demon (obviously) who is leading ciel to his doom, but the path they take is twisted and tragic but strangely beautiful like the gorgeous sky in the ED.

ciel enjoys the power and omnipotence he has with sebastian, knowing full well the demon is leading him to his demise. he knows that this relationship will end him being sebastian's dinner. ciel knows he can't trust sebas, but does anyways because sebas is the only person who can't hurt him until he inevitably does.

the fall might result in an ugly death, but the view is pretty nice on the way down. the beautiful sky colored with deception, manipulation and misplaced trust.

yeah, sebastian will end up hurting ciel the most at the end, but the boy doesn't care at the moment. sebas is the only ""person"" who knows him with all the ugliness of his past, yet still protects him, serves him, and doesn't treat him like a helpless creature. so ciel is forced to place trust in a fundamentally untrustworthy creature knowing he is inches away from the demons bared fangs.

sebastian helps him survive his living hell now and get what he needs to get done, so he doesn't care what happens after. his descent to darkness becomes much more beautiful as a result.

shippers may have one interpretation (which I'm NOT a fan of...), but this is how I see it, and I think it makes this ending all the more impactful and tragic. but here I am, and I'm enthralled by the beauty and can't look away.

anyways, thanks for reading my brain dump, and looking forward to ep 2 folks!!! hope yall liked my micro analysis/semi organized gushing, and r enjoying this kuro renaissance as much as I am! here's a professor michaelis for reading this far

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji analysis #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #black butler #shoukuzai sid #professor michaelis #kuroshitsuji public school arc #kuro spoilers #kuroshitsuji s4 #kuroshitsuji ED #do not tag as ship :/#not ship #my two cents do with it what u will #gateau au earl #long post

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daily-dragon-drawing · 2 months

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hi :) sorry for asking but how exactly does the proof of donations work? I've been donating but my full name and location are listed in the pcrf email and I don't want to share that on the internet

I’m no longer drawing dragons for donation receipts at the moment, but generally speaking you could screenshot just the part(s) of the email with the amount, date, and the organization!

You could also manually censor out your name and location when sending the images, just be sure to cover the info fully and with an opaque color.

Here are some amazing artists you can send donation receipts to & get gorgeous artwork! :)

Cartoonist Co-op:

Drawings for Gaza:

#not dragon #whirling-ghost #artists for palestine

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jhkfan123 · 3 months

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enchanted- tom blyth | ch. 8

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✦viii.

you slept peacefully that night. and when you woke up, it had gotten around even more.and now, as you stepped into your gown for the golden globes, you were very excited to step out onto the red carpet. you had know idea what was going to happen, but you couldn't wait. you did not get a ride from anyone, you did not text anyone. you were going solo.

your dress was gorgeous. it was your favorite one you had ever worn. it was extravagantly detailed, a gorgeous color, and you knew it would be a showstopper. when your stylist helped zip you up, you strapped your heels, and got into the car. the red carpet started over half an hour ago, but you chose to be late.

when you finally stepped out onto the red carpet, the cheers were loud, the flashes were everywhere, and the questions were blaring. It was exactly what you wanted. You stepped into the light and onto the mark for photos. You adjusted yourself into your best poses, that showed off the best parts of you. people were shouting directions from all around you, attempting to get a good shot of you. you turned every way that you could and stepped off. there were multiple other areas for photo ops, but you decided to skip them and head straight in. the show started in 10 minutes anyway.

walking inside, you kept your head up. confidence was key. especially when you knew that tom and rachel were on the other side of the door. hunter schafer was also there, but she was presenting and would be backstage most of the show. the doorman opened the door to the ballroom, and you were directed to your table.

as you approached, you spotted tom and rachel. they were both already sitting down. and there was an empty seat in between them. perfect. this was going to be fun. as you approached, you saw tom stand up, and rachel soon followed. as if.

you deliberately walked past rachel, and glanced at tom for a moment and flashed a false smile, before you sat down. they both looked incredibly defeated. out of the corner of your eye, you saw tom sit down, and face you.

"look, y/n.."

"does anyone know where we can get a drink around here?" you interrupted him. "oh never mind, i see the bar. be back!" you looked at both of them, and got up. heading for the bar, you couldn't help but smile. you weren't sure how long you were going to hold this up. maybe until one of them denied it. neither of them had yet. you were enjoying this, relatively. at the same time, you wished that this had never happened. you wished tom had kissed you that night, you wished that you hadn't gone shopping, and you wished that rumor hadn't appeared. you attempted to shake it off while you ordered your drink. as you waited for your drink, you looked around the ballroom. the show was about to start, you could tell by the occasional flashing lights. could they make your drink any slower? the tables near the stage were the tv and films nominated for the most categories. the movies and tv shows with no nominations, like your table, were farther back.

the bartender finally handed you your drink, and you made your way back to your table. there were a few other people at your table now, such as josh and hunter, and a few other people you hadn't interacted with on set. you made the decision to go up and give josh a big hug.

making your way over to him, he stood up, and you gave him a hug, all while making sure that tom saw. you made sure to lock eyes with him, for a brief moment, before you let go. you saw him look back at the table and take a deep breath. that made you smile. when you sat down again, he made sure to get your attention. he cleared his throat.

"y/n?" you looked over at him with a smile. "can we talk about it?" he asked. you looked over at him.

"talk about wha- oooh, are you talking about the rumor? good for you two!" you lied right through your teeth. you saw him get silently agitated. you looked over at rachel, who was staring at her lap. you smiled again at tom.

"stop lying." he said, looking at you again. he wasn't smiling, at all. you dropped your act for a second, your smile faltering. luckily, the lights went down at that moment, and tom looked away and began to clap. you sat there for a moment, realizing what you were actually doing. you were pulled back into reality by the loud clapping, and began to clap along with everyone.

then, jo koy came out on stage. you hadn't heard much of him, other than that he was a comedian. when he began his monologue, you tuned out. you sat there. realizing you were next to tom. realizing you were next to rachel. realizing, finally, the situation you were in.

"..oppenheimer is based on a 721 page pulitzer prize winning book about the manhattan project" you focused in again ", and barbie is on a plastic doll with big boobies." you sighed with disappointment. clearly this host hadn't gotten the message of barbie. you glanced over at the "barbie" table. they all looked disappointed. especially greta gerwig, the director. she just looked sad. when you actually looked around, every women in the audience looked disappointed. and you could tell jo koy noticed. you decided, in breaking your own rules, to express your opinion to rachel.

"what a dick." you said. she nodded at you, a solemn look on her face. then, you heard him try to cover it up.

"some i wrote, some other people wrote" he said. you looked around the room again. selena gomez put her head in her hands. felt. "i got the gig ten days ago, you want a perfect monologue? shut up. you guys are kidding me right? slow down. i wrote some of these and they're the ones your laughing at." he continued to try to make up for his horrible jokes, but it just made it harder to watch.

...

after a few awards were handed out, jo koy came back on. and things did not get better. "the big difference between the golden globes and the nfl, at the golden globes, we have fewer camera shots of taylor swift." you couldn't even believe this. it made you want to get up and leave. you made eye contact with rachel, and then hunter and just acknowledged each other. you acknowledged how the host had no idea what it was like to be a woman, or how to make comedic jokes.

...

the only time you truly cheered was when barbie won cinematic box office achievement. you stood up, which started a standing ovation. the entire cast came up, which was the best moment of the entire night. you watched as your entire table, including tom and josh, really, fully cheered for the win. it gave you a sense of warmth. it gave you a sense of family, and love. it made you want to drop your act. just be yourself. become vulnerable. show that your upset at tom. the only reason you were making up this false act was to shield yourself from your emotions, you noticed that now.

so, when time for the afterparty came, you became truly yourself. walking to that afterparty, you pulled tom aside. you pulled him out of the hallway, into a less occupied area.

"tom. i need to talk to you." he nodded and just listened. "i'm sorry i was an asshole earlier. i was just upset. upset about everything. upset about how neither of you had said anything about the rumor. i was just upset, and i should have handled it better. but just tell me now if its true."

he thought for a moment. "no it's not. we're not, y/n." you thought it odd he had to think so long, but you also felt relief, so much relief. "I also have a question. yesterday, i saw a video of you and you were like, shopping, and someone asked you and they said 'is that about rachel and tom' and you nodded? what was that about?' you couldn't help but smile.

"ok that i won't apologize for. that was pretty badass." he laughed quietly. you heard who you identified as josh call his name. and for a brief moment, he took your chin in his hand, then let go, and walked away. you stood there for a beat.

walking slower, you made your name into the afterparty. you were not going to make the same mistake again. you were going to stay sober. mostly sober anyways. you decided to go talk to rachel as well. the lights were darker at the afterparty, it was a bit harder to locate her. when you did finally locate her you had to shout above the volume of the music to get her attention. you signaled her towards you, and brought her away from the dance floor.

"rachel. i'm sorry for how i acted. i was just mad." you hoped for a response from her.

"it's ok, y/n. truly. this is about the rumor, yes?" you nodded. "ok, yeah. we are not dating, ok?" you nodded again. "girl say something." you laughed.

"thank you, i just wasn't sure. why haven't either of you said anything on instagram or anything. this rumor is spreading like wildfire." you asked. that was what was really bugging you.

"um, i don't know, actually. I hadn't thought of that, and my social media team hadn't said anything. but i will, ok honey?" you nodded again. she tapped your arm and walked away. she headed for the dance floor. you decided to follow her.

...

you decided to leave about two hours after that. you got home, got out of your dress, and took a shower. doing your skincare, you reflected on the night. you felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders. they had denied it, and you believed them. it allowed you to, for once, finally go to sleep peacefully that night.

...

and then you woke up. you felt awful, something they had put in those drinks. you had only had a few, but it was pretty bad. at least you could remember everything that happened that night. after the past few days, you were hesitant to go back on social media, but you wanted to check if rachel or tom had put out a statement. you opened instagram. you checked both their stories, there was nothing. you thought it strange, but perhaps they had gotten to their houses late last night, and they hadn't had time. you began to scroll. luckily, nothing bad was coming up on your feed. but then your luck ended.

there was nothing on your feed, but you received a text from your friend. you clicked on it, but you really wished you hadn't. it was a photo of her instagram. all that was on it:

a picture of rachel, and tom. getting into the same car. rachel, with tom's coat on her arms.

those liars.

#tom blyth #jhkfan123 #hollywood #fame #coriolanus snow #hunger games #rachel zegler #coriolanus x reader #coriolanussnow #coryo #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #hungergames #tbosas #snow lands on top

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sabo-has-my-heart · 10 months

Note

Hey there! Hope everything's going great

Sooo I had a request:

I had this thought about what if s/o and op men had a little argument on something and they decide to give silent treatment to each other for a while, they still do stuff together like going shopping for stuff with the crew but this little incident happens where a guy flirts with s/o infront of their partner and she (yep female s/o) says she's single XD

Like a headcanon on how they would react to this? It can be a funny one

I'd specifically like sabo, law, zoro and coby for this!

Thank youuuu so muchhhh if you'll do this take care! ^^ ♡

I included Ace in this as well because I love him. Sabo, Law, Zoro, Koby, Ace.

Warnings: arguments, threats, almost violence, heartbreak, hurt/comfort,

Word Count:1720

Your fights never got this bad, never got out of control like this. Normally, you were able to work it out, or at least take some time to cool down first. But you’d both been in a bad mood, both said things you shouldn’t have, both been rather stupid to be honest. It should have been a minor argument, should have been simple grumbling followed by comforting hugs and cuddles, maybe a nap. Instead, it had ended up with you both storming off in an even worse mood than you’d already been in, it had ended with you both giving each other the silent treatment, and with extremely high tensions whenever you were together. Few, if any, of your friends said anything, not wanting to get caught up in your fight or be on the receiving end of your wrath, but the tension was getting uncomfortable… well, more uncomfortable. A simple shopping trip with the others, that’s all it was. Get some supplies, look around, it wouldn’t be the two of you alone, so it’s not like it would be uncomfortable silence the entire way, you could both talk to someone who wasn’t each other. It had been while you’d been in a clothing shop, looking at various clothes that he approached you. Tall, handsome, with a gorgeous smile.

“Hey there, beautiful. Noticed you looking at these. If I may be so bold, I think this would look much better on you.” he said, holding out a beautiful dress. Running your fingers over the fabric, you smiled, you did look good in this color, maybe it was worth at least trying on.

“Tell me how I look?” you asked, taking the dress, the man following you towards the dressing rooms. As soon as you stepped out, the man was taking your hand, kissing the back before helping give you a little spin.

“You look dazzling. I was wondering, if a beautiful woman like you would perhaps join me for dinner? That is, unless you’re already taken.” he said, giving you another thousand watt smile. You hesitated for a moment. The two of you hadn’t talked in well over a week, or had it been longer? You were both too busy fuming to keep track, still stubbornly refusing to talk to each other.

“No, I’m single and I’d love to accompany you.” you said with a soft smile.

Sabo

Head immediately whips around to look at you.

Heartbroken and angry.

Single? Was this your way of breaking up with him?

Immediately marches over, tells the guy you’re actually taken and then drags you away.

Pulls you somewhere secluded so you can talk.

Totally pins you to the wall.

Calls you both stubborn and says that the fight was stupid.

He’s angry because of the guy but he’s also super scared of losing you.

Pulls you close and holds you, telling you you’re his and that he won’t let some stupid fight change that.

If you don’t apologize for the fight or want to break up, his heart will 100% shatter.

He’s lost enough, you were the ray of sunshine in his life, he can’t lose you too.

Doesn’t actually say anything though, just walks away.

You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad from the way he leaves.

Won’t talk to anyone unless necessary for days and completely avoids you.

So, so heartbroken, absolutely cries when he’s alone.

Thinks he has to be strong for the Revolutionary Army though, so will put on a smile around others.

If you both apologize.

Refuses to let you go after that, if you let him, he’ll absolutely carry you everywhere, but if you don’t, he won’t let go of your hand. At. All.

Super possessive all day.

Pulls you into his room to sleep with you.

I hope you don’t have to get up in the middle of the night, because he won’t let you go.

Seriously, wrapped completely around you, holding you tight, you just are not going anywhere.

Steals or buys all sorts of gifts for you. Anything he thinks you might like.

Even if you’re both at fault, he’s trying so hard to make up for the fight.

Law

Excuse me, what?

Straight up shambles the guy away, like as far as his room will allow.

Super duper pissed.

Demands to know why you said you were single.

If you say that you’re breaking up with him, his heart will break.

Not even kidding, will storm off to the Polar Tang, lock himself in his room and cry.

If you say someting like ‘he was acting like you weren’t together anymore’, he’ll freeze up

Had he really been that stubborn and stupid?

Shambles you both back to the ship and holds you close.

Tells you that he can’t lose you.

Surprisingly sweet. Is this really your Law? Because he’s being way too affectionate.

Absolutely makes it up to you. Takes you back out shopping, if you so much as look at something with vague interest, he’ll either buy it or steal it for you.

Takes you out to a very nice (secluded) dinner that night. Holds you close all night, like, I hope you don’t mind sleeping in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, because it will happen.

Doesn’t let you out of his sight the entire time you’re docked.

Zoro

Almost slices the entire store (and the guy) into pieces.

You’re WHAT?

So, so, so angry.

Also scared, though he won’t admit it.

Scares the guy away.

Picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and takes you back to the Sunny.

You can’t tell if he’s more angry or hurt as he looks at you.

Simply states that you’re his.

If you tell him you aren’t and that you’re breaking up with him.

Just storms off.

Goes to his gym and starts working out to try and blow off some steam.

Spends an unusual amount of time in the gym from now on.

Can’t look at you because it hurts too much.

Still totally loves you.

He doesn’t even insult Sanji for days.

If you forgive him.

Wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

Just stays like that for a while.

Keeps an arm wrapped around you all day as you go shopping.

In so much debt to Nami now because he borrowed so much money.

Isn’t able to buy you everything you look at, but if you express any sort of desire over it, he’ll buy it.

Keeps you close for weeks. He’s training? Well, I hope you wanted to watch him work out. He’s taking a nap? You’re taking a nap too.

I hope you don’t mind sleeping in the boy’s dorm because Nami absolutely will not let him sleep in the girl’s dorm.

Koby

Immediately rushes over to you.

Are you serious? Does this mean you’re breaking up with him? He’s so, so, so, so sorry.

Completely ignoring the guy as he takes your hands in his.

Eyes are so hurt and scared and a little desperate.

Begs you to forgive him.

If you break up with him.

Absolutely starts tearing up then and there.

Quietly walks away as he starts crying. Returns to his room and starts sobbing.

Beats himself up for getting into the fight in the first place.

SO different from his usual self!

Just super quiet and downcast.

It’s like he reverted back to when he was working for Alvida but without the hope for something better.

His rank and abilities totally suffer because of how heartbroken he is.

Like, everyone is wondering, is this really the same Captain Koby?

Does eventually, sort of bounce back, but is super focused on only work.

If you forgive him.

Clings to you, just wrapps you in a huge hug, apologizing over and over.

Still crying a little but so, so relieved.

Buys. You. Everything!

Seriously, I hope you plan to look at the ground the entire time, because if you even glance at it, he’s buying it, trying to make things up to you.

Even if he knows it’s both of your faults, he doesn’t care, he feels like he needs to apologize and make it up to you.

Spoils you rotten for weeks.

A little meek around you for a bit, but does perk up and return to normal after a bit.

Cuddles with you whenever possible. Like, if he has even a minute to spare, he’s got his arms wrapped around you.

Ace

Literally lights on fire as he stalks over to the man.

Almost lights the guy on fire.

Not sure who to feel more sorry for. Ace for feeling so scared and heartbroken or the man for being so terrified.

Pulls you away immediately.

As soon as your somewhere secluded, he wraps his arms around you and doesn’t let go.

Apologizing over and over.

Please don’t leave him, he’ll do anything, whatever you ask.

If you don’t forgive him. Stands there in stunned silence while you walk away.

100% crying.

So, so despondent as he walks back to the Moby Dick.

Locks himself in his cabin, refuses to come out.

Barely eats and Thatch has to deliver it to Ace because Ace won’t come out.

Nobody hears his sobbing, but it’s a miracle he doesn’t die of dehydration.

You were the best thing to happen to him.

You think he was depressed over his past before?

1000x worse now.

Absolutely thinks he’s trash for losing you.

Doesn’t necessarily bounce back, but returns to his commander duties again.

If you forgive him.

Holding you even tighter.

Can’t stop himself from crying into your shoulder.

So, so scared he was going to lose you.

Once he manages to gather himself together again, he takes you back to the ship.

He doesn’t buy you everything but that’s because he just wants to hold you.

You spend the entire week simply cuddling with him.

Will not let you go. Eating dinner? You’re in his lap. Sleeping? He’s holding you tightly like a teddy bear. Just relaxing? He’s cuddled up with you.

I hope you don’t need to train, because he won’t let you go long enough to do so.

Whitebeard eventually has to order him to return to him commander duties because he’s so busy clinging to you.

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loviatarsluv · 2 months

Text

Would That I (2)

“True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree

Must be felled for to fight the cold”

(all credits to the op of this gorgeous pic of my wizard <3)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: sfw, this one is pretty much purely fluff and angst

CW: yearning and pining, gale being very sweet and the gentleman he is, nasty drunk man saying nasty things, slight s*xual harassment, hurt/comfort, gale being protective, tara being tara

in summary: Elara and Gale plan to go to the market and spend the day together, which is cut short unexpectedly. nothing is ever easy for the two of them, it seems.

a/n: I’m torturing myself with this tbh I love a slow burn but GOD I just wanna write sweet romantic smut about the wizard already!!!

word count: 7.8k

Springtime in Waterdeep had to be one of the most breathtaking things she’d ever seen.

The way the dogwood trees bloomed and blossomed in gorgeous shades of pink and pastel hues, the way the flowers that had been dormant during the colder months were now full of life and bursting with color, the way the sun shone so much brighter and the breeze felt like a warm but gentle embrace.

Everything seemed to come alive with a brand new vigor— the streets were full again, the sounds of children running and playing as well as the Waterdhavian locals just existing and enjoying the sunshine for the first time in months echoed off the sides of the stone buildings that lined the streets. The faint melodic strumming of a lyre could be heard not too far from the Dekarios residence, as a bard occupied a spot just outside one of the nearby taverns and busked for coins throughout the day.

She caught the end of a familiar tune as she approached the large window in her bedroom— a song that she remembered her mother singing to her before bed. One of the last vivid memories she had left of her.

Elara hoped maybe they would pass the bard on their way to the market so she could toss them a few gold pieces.

She gazed out over the expanse of the ocean and hummed along to the song until its eventual end, smiling somberly to herself and adjusting her dress to ensure it was perfect, before pulling on her boots and grabbing the basket she uses to gather fruits and vegetables at the market.

It had been quite a while since she’d been able to wear her favorite dress, and today was the perfect weather, the perfect day, for her to finally bring it out again. She paces past the full length mirror in the corner of the room, stopping briefly and double checking her reflection. Her hair was mostly loose, half of her dark waves flowing along her shoulders and back and half of it tied back with a silver pin that adorned the shape of a mermaid, to keep it out of her eyes. Her dress fell right around her knees, the light blue fabric having small golden flecks throughout it as if stars were scattered across it. The neckline was low but not incredibly revealing, and it fit her waist and shoulders perfectly. She always felt so beautiful in this dress. It was her mother’s before she passed. One of her only other memories of her mother was seeing her twirling in the mirror as she tried the dress on for the first time.

She always hoped that she could be as beautiful as her mother was when she got older. She wished that she could’ve been around to see her in it as she wore it now, but somehow whenever she put it on, she could feel her presence in the room. She could almost still smell the roses and sandalwood that used to linger on the collar of the dress.

Gale waited patiently for her downstairs as she got ready for their outing, busying himself by sitting at the table and reading the local news. He had to admit that he was quite elated to be accompanying her to the market today— feeling a sense of relief when she said yes when he asked her the day prior after her previous denial of his last invitation for an outing. He hoped she wasn’t doing it out of pity, but figured if she truly didn’t want to go that she would’ve just said so or made another excuse.

He essentially jumps at the sound of her footsteps bounding down the stairs, standing quickly and straightening his clothes before she appears from the staircase, adjusting himself and ensuring nothing was askew or out of place. He smooths his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear and adjusts his sleeves just before she emerges from the staircase.

He had to remind himself many times that this excursion was nothing more than a quick trip to the market— but it did little to quell the sweat beads rising in his palm and the buzzing in his stomach. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her that felt like they were both choosing to. It almost always felt like they just happened to end up in the same room as each other by chance, rather than choosing to be in whatever room the other occupied just to be near them. If it were up to him, he would remain at her side every moment that her eyes were open and even while they were closed. But it wasn’t up to him. Not entirely, at least.

He was only waiting for the right moment, or any sort of notion that she was even slightly interested— then, he would— well, do something. He hadn’t really thought that far yet.

Now may be an apt time to start, though.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to make sure I had everything so we can stock up and last us a little longer.” She says, gesturing to the two wicker baskets draped over her arms.

So this is what bards sing about so wistfully. This is what the love-stricken authors had in mind whilst they wrote hundreds of pages of longing and languishing— the beautiful girl that could make an entire room full of people’s heads turn in her direction just upon her entry, with long silken hair and stars in her eyes and on her dress.

He’s rendered completely speechless, which was not a common occurrence for Gale. His heart flutters and pounds as she smiles at him expectantly, awaiting him to let her know that he was ready to leave as well.

She notices him staring and glances down at herself, frowning. “Is it too much? It’s just so nice out, I thought, what better day for my favorite dress?”

He’s completely transfixed by her, he almost doesn’t catch her words before he finally returns to reality after soaring through the clouds. He shakes his head almost in disbelief.

“Not at all. You look… radiant, Elara.” He says, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring a painting hung in a gallery.

A blush rises to her cheeks as she tries to fight off the widest smile she’d probably ever smiled. “Thank you. You look… handsome.” She replies, mimicking his phrasing and making him chuckle quietly.

“Why, thank you, my lady,” he says with a bow, then holds his hand out as an invitation for hers. She timidly places her hand in his, and he presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Shall we?”

She’s taken aback by the gesture, her already intense blush only becoming ever more prominent and persistent, the heat in her cheeks beginning to feel as though she may burn up before they even make it outside.

She nods slowly, then follows his lead out the door, her hand lingering in his until they reach the front door steps. She takes a few steps ahead of him and tries to steady her breathing, as he quickly casts Arcane Lock on the door before rejoining her.

They walk side by side in silence for a little while, both of them happily drinking in the sights surrounding them. Elara is still buzzing from Gale’s earlier comment and the sensation of his lips against her skin lingered on the back of her hand— they were so soft. Like rose petals. She could hardly focus on anything but their softness, even while the scratch of his beard tickled her skin.

Radiant. He’d never complimented her like that before. In fact, she wasn’t sure anybody ever had. Not anyone that ever mattered enough to remember at least.

But Gale— gods, she’d write it in the stars if she could. She would paint the night sky with each syllable in only the most dazzling of stars, the brightest she could find— so that every night she could remember the way it sounded dripping from his tongue like honey.

A single word had never filled her entire body with a warmth that the sun could never provide. She felt as though she could fly if she really wanted to.

Radiant.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever asked you, but how have you enjoyed Waterdeep?” He asks, slowing his pace slightly to accommodate her, her legs being shorter than his so her shorter strides made her fall behind.

He had asked, a few times. But that was months ago when it was all still new. Plus— her answer had changed considerably since the last time he asked.

“I love it. It is so beautiful here. I certainly don’t miss Rivington.” She jokes, a soft melodic giggle following. Gale’s heart flutters.

“There’s nothing quite like witnessing the changing of the seasons in Waterdeep. I’m happy to provide that experience for you, even under somewhat strange circumstances.” He replies, gesturing to the air around them.

She smiles sheepishly and averts her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet as they continue to walk. “Thank you, for that, by the way. For… letting me stay with you. I know it’s not ideal, to have essentially a stranger in your home, and I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you for it before, so,” she rambles, trying with everything in her not to look at his face out of fear of what she might see.

He places a soothing hand on her arm, his fingertips featherlight against her flesh as she slowly runs them along the length of her bicep before returning to his side.

“No need to thank me. Your presence has been a delightful change around here, one that was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless.”

When she finally breaks and looks up at him, the warm and mirthful smile on his face nearly turns her legs to jelly, but she would happily melt under the sunshine that was his gaze.

Before she can attempt to craft a response to him, a commotion is heard ahead, and both of their attention snaps to it. A crowd has begun to form near the front of the nearby tavern, and not a single intelligible word could be made out of the raucous whooping within the crowd of presumably day drunk patrons and bystanders craning their necks to watch whatever was taking place in the center of it. She furrows her brows, suddenly remembering the bard she heard that morning, and hoping they’d been able to avoid the commotion. She watches closely for a moment before she feels Gale’s guiding hand on her back, urging her to go in a different direction, any other direction.

“Come, let’s push on. Tara will be waiting for us, and trust me when I say she is not the most pleasant when she’s been kept waiting,” he says, his voice low next to her ear. It was a throwaway excuse to pull her away from the ruckus and to safety to avoid potentially getting swept into a hysteria she needn’t get swept into.

If her mind hadn’t been so preoccupied by whatever was happening in front of them, she’d have been blushing furiously at the position of his hand, just above the small of her back. Something to try not to think too much about later.

Her eyes flick to him for an instant before she hears what sounded like a lyre being smashed against the side of the bricked building. Her head snaps in that direction, and the crowd parts in just the right way for her to see a young tiefling crumpled to the ground with his face in his hands, and an older human man above mocking him, gripping part of the smashed instrument in one of his fists.

Her face twists to a deep grimace, and before she can stop herself her feet are carrying her forward, her pace quickening. Gale calls to her from behind, his voice distant and nearly inaudible over the loud pounding and drumming of her heart in her ears. The crowd has begun to disperse only slightly, but a handful of people still linger and are either cheering on the older man or encouraging the tiefling to stand and fight. The tiefling’s shoulders shake and tremble as he cowers away from the inebriated brute towering over him, bellowing nonsense.

The man stands above what she can now see is merely a child, no older than thirteen, shouting taunts of profanity and cruelty that she tries her damnedest to disregard so as to not use her very limited knowledge of magic to send him onto his ass as she approaches the child, kneeling before him.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft so as to not startle him. She places a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him into looking up at her. “Are you okay?”

Before he can respond, the booming of the perpetrator’s slurred mockery echoing throughout the small alleyway interrupts them both.

“Oi, missy! Careful, the little foulblood’ll snatch yer coin purse when ye ain’t lookin’!”

He looks at her with desperate eyes, his yellow tinted irises beginning to gloss over again as new sobs begin to wrack through his fragile looking body. “I didn’t— I swear, I didn’t do a-anything.”

She searches his face for any sign of deceit, noticing the faint scar that ran along his cheek from his eye to the corner of his lip that looked like it had only healed somewhat recently. His body language resembles that of a frightened pup in a cage and his tears seem genuine, so she offers him a reassuring smile. “I believe you.”

“‘M talkin’ ta ye, missy! Ye got shit for manners too?” The man yells again, the sound of the broken instrument clattering to the ground following it.

She continues to ignore him, her stubborn nature refusing to let this drunkard intimidate her as she assumes that’s exactly what he wants, he wants to feel bigger than himself, and thus why he was picking on a child and a woman— easy targets for his drunken tirade.

Her ignorance sets the man off into a blind rage, and she barely has a second to comprehend the situation before she hears a grunt of fury and large hands crash into the side of her body, surely bruising her ribs with the force it took to shove her to the ground, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. She yelps as stone scrapes across her bare arm and the side of her head collides with the ground. The tiefling jumps backward and out of the line of fire of the older man’s warpath, eyes wide and boring into hers in terror.

“Elara!” Gale calls out, pushing through the now dense crowd frantically.

He finally makes it through, and the very second his eyes lock on her as she attempts to sit up, blood running down the side of her forearm and one hand clutching her ribs as the other presses over the tender spot where her skull met stone, fire burns through his veins. He’s at her side in an instant, gathering her up into his arms and holding on to her tightly.

“Are you alright?” He asks her, his voice cracking with concern.

She nods, then glances between him and the child backed against the wall, her main focus still on ensuring his safety. She motions to the child for him to stand with her, and Gale steps in front of them both protectively as he turns to face the drunkard.

“‘S that yer boyfriend, eh, girly? Wanna know how it feels t’ be with a real man?” The man cackles, stumbling forward as he belly laughs at his own vile taunts.

Gale’s composure is slipping and he feels heat in the center of his palm as it begins to emit a faint and crackling orange glow. His fingers twitch against the effort it takes not to hurl a fire bolt right at the bastard’s cocky face, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to as the man notices the faint glow of fire in Gale’s palm and begins to back away, fear etching into his weathered and sunburnt features.

He raises his hands in surrender, then quickly rounds the corner and dashes down the alley without another word, and the wizard relaxes his hand, dispelling the cantrip from his palm.

The air is still crackling with tension as the three of them try to steady their breathing, Gale in particular finding it difficult as the sight of her on the ground and her sweet face that, prior to this entire encounter, had been adorned with a smile that could stop a charging Minotaur in its tracks, twisted in pain and a gash on her arm. Not to mention the disgusting comment that foul—

Deep breaths.

The crowd slowly begins to disperse, some eyeing Gale wearily as they begin to back away, some pointing at him and whispering to their counterparts, no doubt recognizing him as the great Gale of Waterdeep. Eventually they, too, depart, leaving only two of them and the tiefling who was still cowering behind Elara, gripping the back of her dress as if he would fall through a crack in the ground without her anchoring him.

Gale spins around and cups Elara’s face gently, his umber eyes teeming with distress and a bit of anger as they scan her face for any further signs of injury or harm. Her icy blue eyes were glossy but he could see the restraint as she held back any tears from actually spilling.

Gods, she has the most beautiful eyes.

“Are you well? Did he hurt you? Is your head okay?” He asks frantically, the words tumbling from his lips in rapid succession as he gently turns her head to check each side of her face.

She swallows hard and tries not to get lost in the way his strong but elegant hands feel on her skin as he fusses over her, and places her hand over one of his in an attempt at calming his distraught babbling.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she shushes him, placing her other hand on his arm. “Everything is fine.”

Gale frowns. “It is most certainly not fine, you hit your head and you’re bleeding. We should head back and clean that up, I’ll just run to the market tomorrow—”

“Gale.” She coos, cutting his rambling short.

He stops, his entire body stilling and a heat creeping to his cheeks. Reality washes over him again as he blinks out of his worrisome daze, and realizes his hands still on her cheeks, and her hand over his— oh, hells, her hands are so soft, so warm— and slowly begins to pull away. She nods her head in the direction of the child attached to her hip, reminding him that they had company still. He takes a deep breath and glances around, likely looking to see if he catches a glimpse of that bastard and hoping that he was still within range for him to send a witch bolt his way. He’s unable to hide his disappointment when his search is fruitless.

The child’s eyes widen when Gale turns once again to face them and sighs deeply, his shoulders sinking low when all of the air exits his lungs, his body seeming to shrink with his posture. He slams his eyes shut tight, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking slow and steady breaths to calm himself.

“Mystra, give me strength.” He murmurs under his breath.

Elara ignores the disgruntled wizard at her side, leaning down slightly to be closer to the smaller tiefling’s height.

Elara smiles reassuringly and places her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry about that. Are you okay?”

The child stares up at her, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the man brooding behind her.

“He’s with me, it’s alright.” She says, making her best attempt at a soothing and calm tone despite her voice wavering.

The tiefling’s eyes dart to the wreckage that is left of what was once his instrument, and his frown deepens. “My lyre…”

She follows his gaze, wincing when she sees the extensive damage. She could tell instantly upon inspection even from a distance that there was no repairing it, and it would simply need to be replaced. She offers him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. What was once what appeared to be a beautiful instrument, was now shattered into several jagged pieces, sprawling across the ground around them. She frowns, feeling regretful for its owner but also for herself— an echo of a memory from this morning when she heard her favorite song being strummed by it reverberating in her mind.

“What’s your name?” She asks him.

He bounces back and forth heel to toe, his hand behind his back timidly. His peach-tinted skin contrasts the dark mop of curls atop his head, with two small horns peeking out of them. He’s quite slender, but still has the tiny bit of pudge that a prepubescent child would have, his cheeks round and youthful. He reminds her of one of her adoptive cousins that she’d only seen occasionally when her aunt would make an all too rare appearance— she hadn’t seen the rest of her family since she was around his age.

“Dex.” He says meekly, his face downcast and defeated as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dex. I’m Elara, and this—” she motions to the man behind her. “is Gale.��

Gale’s attention snaps to her at the sound of his own name, clearly having been mentally elsewhere during the entire exchange. He meets the uncertain gaze of the child, and bows slightly, offering a warm smile. Dex smiles back, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the gesture.

“Thank you, for helping me. I’m s-sorry you got hurt,” he points to her bloodied elbow and forearm, reminding her of the stinging sensation biting at her nerves shallowly within her skin. She winces but tries her best to disregard it.

“I think I’ll live. I’m sorry about your lyre.” She says, motioning to the scattered wooden debris and frayed strings.

He shrugs. “I’ll live.”

She chuckles, her smile widening. Gale watches her with this unfamiliar child that she had no real reason to be so kind to, other than just out of the boundless kindness of her heart, and feels that warm twinge in his chest he’d grown all too familiar with since she made her grand entrance in his life. His heart skips several beats and the urge to whisk her away and kiss her on the stoop like he’d previously imagined becomes harder and harder to resist each passing second.

“Well, Dex. I think you’d best get going home. It’ll be dark before too long and I’m sure your parents will be worried. Hm?” She tries on her best schoolteacher voice, placing her hands on her hips.

Dex sighs, his entire body shrinking at the mention of his parents. “I don’t want to go home without my lyre… they’ll be furious at me.”

She pauses for a moment, then shoots Gale a pleading glance, hoping he has any bright ideas that could magically fix everything for this poor child. She looked at him as if the child were a lost kitten that she was begging him to let her bring home.

He looks toward the sky pensively for a moment, appearing as if he were doing calculations in his head, then wordlessly and effortlessly waves his hand in a flourish, whispering an incantation that reassembles the lyre with a purple hued fog of weave.

Dex’s widened eyes sparkle with glee as each of the fractured pieces of the instrument rejoin as if they’d never been apart to begin with. The lyre floats toward the child, basked in violet and sapphire light, landing gently into his still shaky grasp. Gale smiles and nods at the boy as the light fades, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride.

“Weeping bleeding hells! How did you do that?!” He chirps, turning the lyre in his hands and inspecting each and every inch of it in search of any cracks or imperfections, then smiling a wide toothy grin, his pointed teeth peeking over his lips when there is not a single dent or scratch to be found.

Gale chuckles, then pats the boy on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble, young man. Hopefully next time we see you will be under better circumstances.”

The young tiefling glances back to Elara, the exuberant expression on his face contrasting the tear stains still present on his cheeks. Before she or Gale have any time to react, he throws his body between them, wrapping his tiny arms around the both of them as best as he could manage, and nuzzling his face into Elara’s arm.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He says as he pulls away and turns to leave, glancing over his shoulder and waving to them one last time before scurrying off.

She watches the boy disappear into the distance, skipping along the cobblestone streets with a childish glee that fills her with a wistful sensation— to be that young and for everything to be so new, for something as simple as a fixed lyre to make her completely forget any hurt or pain that had befallen her. She envies him, silently, as she watches him run home to his parents surely to regale everything that happened to him today, just as she wished she’d been able to every time something exciting happened to her during the day.

Gale notices her sudden shift in demeanor, then places a hand placatingly on her uninjured arm.

“Elara?” His voice is gentle and tepid, cautious. “Allow me to help you with this,” he says, motioning to the still leaking wound on her arm. “Let’s head back.”

She sighs, turning to him but unable to muster a genuine smile, still taken by real memories and those that never came to pass. Her lips curl, but her eyes remain glossy and sullen. She nods, the motion small and nearly imperceptible. Without another word, they head back to the tower, her arm never leaving the comfort of Gale’s hand as they walk.

Something so simple, something that could mean nothing. But to her, it meant everything.

The scent of balsam and sandalwood fills the room as Gale’s adept fingers gently clean the scrape on her arm, his eyes narrowed and his brows knitted together in deep focus. He pestered her until he could coax her into sitting right in this seat where he could tend to her, much to her protest as she insisted she could do it herself and that he needn’t worry about her.

Stubborn wizard, she grunted as he gently guided her to sit. He did not regard any of her disgruntled murmurs, her insistence that she was fine and not to worry.

Just as she’d helped that boy on the street, he felt the least he could do is take gentle care of her the way she would anyone else. He wondered if anyone aside from Alastor had ever done so for her, her insistence on taking care of it herself giving him pause. Had she always had to pick herself up? Had no one ever swept in and dusted her off when she fell?

He would. From now forward. Even if it were something as small and simple as rubbing balsam on the angry and gashed skin of her arm and wrapping it with the softest cloth he could find. He would be that for her. He would be anything for her, should she ask.

It wasn’t lost on him how intimate of a gesture it was, to treat another’s wounds, either— he couldn’t deny that he simply just wanted to care for her in a way that felt deeper than just feeding her and providing a bed for her to sleep in.

“That was incredibly admirable of you, back there. Stepping in like that. That boy won’t soon forget what you’ve done for him.” He says, his tone reverent and almost thankful.

She smiles a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “He seemed like a sweet kid. And I would hope someone would do the same if it were me, in his shoes.”

She says it, but she realizes that Gale sort of had done the same for her— the way he stepped in and made the man back off. The way he stood in front of them protectively, blocking them with his body as if he were willing and ready to take whatever blows aimed at her in her place.

“He’ll remember you, too,” she continues, her breath slightly catching as he begins to wrap the cloth around her arm, and wincing as the fabric brushes against the tender skin. “You kind of saved him twice. Saved him from a drunkard and an angry lecture from his parents.”

He chuckles, shaking his head causing a stray strand of hair to fall into his eyes as he does. “I suppose so. You took care of all the heavy lifting, though. I just helped with the clean up.”

She fights herself and her need to push that hair out of his eyes. Would that be too intimate? Would that push things too far?

Her eyes lock on the strand as she speaks. “You did your own heavy lifting, for my sake. Thank you. For stepping in. And for this,” she motions to where his hands are gently tying off the ends of the cloth. “Even though you didn’t have to.”

He finishes tying a very delicate but sturdy bow, then sits back slightly, still close enough to see every detail of her face as clearly as he could see his own in a mirror when he was close enough, and eyes her for a moment, a smile ghosting on the edges of his lips.

“To do something for someone doesn’t always have to be borne of necessity or desire for reciprocity. I wanted to.”

His face was so close, she could nearly feel his breath whispering across the flushed skin of her cheeks. She wants to say thank you again, but finds that every single word in her vocabulary has escaped her as she basks in this closeness and the way she can see the reflection of the flickering candle beside her in his dark eyes that still managed to seem so bright with the way they twinkled as he looked at her.

Had he always looked at her this way? Why did this feel so different?

“Can I ask you something?” He breaks the silence but not the tension as their gazes stay locked.

She nods, still trapped in the daze of the intimacy of the moment.

“Earlier, I couldn’t help but notice— and feel free to disregard my asking, if I’m overstepping— you seemed a little… off. When the boy ran off. You looked pensive.”

She swallows hard despite her throat feeling dry, her entire body tensing at his questioning. The emotions of the day had fluctuated so immensely and the mention of the culmination of it all in that moment only serves to bid them to return in full force. A pit forms in her stomach and she feels the urge to retreat.

“Perhaps a story for another time. I’m… it’s alright.” She tries to maintain composure, despite her words wavering upon delivery. She offers Gale that same smile from before— the one that never quite reached her eyes. He frowns, but nods.

“Understood.” He says simply, their faces still dangerously close. He moves one hand to comfortingly cover hers as it rests on her knee, patting it gently. “I'm always here to offer an ear, whenever you need.”

The warmth of his hand and his words radiates throughout her entire body, down to her bones. She notices the strand is still hanging in front of his eyes. She doesn’t hold herself back from brushing it away this time, her fingertips lightly graze his forehead as she tucks it behind his ear. Her hand lingers near his face for a while, but not nearly long enough, before she drops it back to her side.

Gale looks taken aback by the gesture, quick fire flickers of shock, trepidation, then elation flashing across his expression. He smiles a smile that sends a shiver through her, his eyes dropping to her lips and the gap between them suddenly seeming so much smaller.

Oh.

It was getting smaller, as she realized that the magnetic pull between their lips was getting stronger as they both began to lean in, her body taking the reins as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening and determine if she were dreaming or not— was this just an infatuation induced hallucination? Had she finally lost it?

“Mr. Dekarios?”

The sound of Tara’s voice calling from down the hall cuts the moment short, both of their heads snapping in the direction of the sudden intrusion. Gale sighs, his head falling in evident disappointment. He glances at her, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright rosy red that makes his heart flutter.

“To be continued, perhaps. I should—“

“No worries, go ahead. I’m going to go rest, my head is killing me.” She waves him off, attempting to hide her own disappointment and slight shock.

Gale stares at her for a moment, the desire to kiss her still lingering but ebbing as he sees her pulling away, suddenly feeling as though he’d done something wrong. He opens his mouth to ask, but before he can she’s standing and quickly darting across the room and into the hall, stopping just at the doorway and peering at him over her shoulder.

She sighs, placing a hand on the doorway and using it for support, her legs feeling as though they may give out on the spot. “Thank you, again.”

He watches helplessly as she disappears into the hall and the sounds of her footsteps fade slowly, preceded by the sound of a bedroom door clicking shut. His eyes pinch shut so tightly that it nearly hurts, and he sinks back into his chair, wishing a blackhole would form underneath him and swallow him. He could conjure one, if he wanted.

He heavily considered it.

“Mr. Dekarios, fix your posture! Your back already aches enough as it is,” Tara remarks as she strolls into the room, blissfully unaware of the havoc she’d just wreaked on his sanity.

As per usual.

There were a surprising amount of cracks in the ceiling above the bed in the room that she stayed in.

Everything else in this tower seemed nearly pristine aside from appearing well lived in and well loved, Gale evidently cared greatly about his surroundings. The home was cluttered but organized to his exact liking, perfectly tidy but still cozy and comfortable. Anyone who entered would feel at home.

She felt at home, more than she wanted to admit to herself. She tried to continue to remind herself that at some point she would have to leave and move on. But as she lay in this bed— this large, ever so comfortable bed— gaze trailing along the strangely cracked ceiling of her bedroom, she wondered what the ceiling of his bedroom looked like.

She was certain there were no cracks in his bedroom ceiling. There couldn’t be.

Today had been immensely overwhelming in terms of her feelings toward Gale that had been simply burning embers and were now alight in full force— him having stoked the fires tenfold with his seemingly innocent touches and his evident care for her that he put on full display multiple times throughout the day, all culminating in an almost-kiss.

They almost kissed. He almost kissed her.

They were so close. She could still feel the heat of his breath against her cheeks and the skin of the back of her hand tingled with the sensation as if his hand remained there still, his thumb rubbing languid circles against her wrist. In fact, every part of her skin that he’d touched today still felt as if it had been electrically charged, still buzzing, and her stomach aching. She missed the feeling of him already and it was only a mere whisper of a taste rather than an entire bite.

It wasn’t entirely her fault, obviously, that it never came to pass— Tara had a way of having serendipitously terrible timing. She wasn’t always sure that Tara didn’t know exactly what she was doing, and she wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case this time.

It was endearing, most of the time.

But even if Tara hadn’t interrupted— would she have really kissed him? Would he have really kissed her? Or would some other force of nature and horrible timing pluck them out of each other's grasps yet again?

She thinks maybe he would have. She hopes.

Now, she’s not sure she’ll ever get the chance to.

Guilt began to gnaw and claw at her insides furiously as she remembered the way she’d exited the study— hurried and curtly— and the way hurt and confusion etched into his features as he watched her leave. She couldn’t explain why she left that way, she truly didn’t know. She wished she did. She wished she understood why she ever ran away from Gale in the moments when they felt the closest. The moments she had longed for for so long— so why wouldn’t she let herself enjoy them?

It wasn’t that she was inexperienced in the romance department— she’d had a few partners here and there, mostly in school, and one since then that lasted a couple years but ultimately just didn’t work out— and if she’s being honest, she’d never been nervous around another person the way she was around him.

And strangely enough, she felt very comfortable with him most of the time— aside from the occasional flips her gut did when she glanced up to see him at his desk, deep in thought and quill in hand, glasses perched just on the end of his nose as he read whatever scroll or tome he was fixated on.

He’s an easy person to just exist with. That is, if you aren’t hopelessly enamored with him.

Gods.

She clenches her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose— another habit of Gale’s that she’d picked up— wishing the large quilt and plush mattress beneath her would just swallow her. Just take her away from it all and save her from having to deal with the consequences of her own idiocy.

Knock knock.

“Elara?”

The sound of Gale’s voice on the other side of her door lurches her from her thoughts and her body up from the mattress. She quickly hops off of the bed and approaches the door, her hand hovering over the handle.

“Yes?” She asks, turning her head so her voice appears further away than it actually was.

She hears what sounds like feet shuffling aside from a brief pause, before hearing a long and defeated sigh.

“Can we talk?” Is all he manages, dejection evident in his tone.

She reaches for the handle again, turning it slowly and pulling the door just enough to see him through the crack.

He looked the way he did when something was weighing heavily on his mind or vexing him— she could tell he’d been raking his fingers frantically through his hair as it was uncharacteristically messy and unkempt, his robes were nowhere to be seen, and he stood only in his white wrap shirt and his breeches.

Not now, brain. Not now.

“Everything alright?” She asks, trying to hide the sound of her swallowing the massive lump in her throat.

He shakes his head, placing his hand against the wood grain and gently pushing it, opening it further.

“The very question I came to ask you,” he retorts. “May I?”

She nods, backing away from the door to give him enough room to push it the rest of the way open, her heart thudding a million a minute. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his expression nearly unreadable. For as expressive as his eyes were, she had such a hard time understanding him or trying to sort out what mental storm was brewing in his head.

“I could not bear resting my head upon my pillow and or fathom sleeping a wink tonight without knowing whether I’ve done something to upset you or not. If I crossed any lines today, please do tell me, and allow me to offer my most sincere of apologies for—“

What?

“Gale—“

“—ever making you feel uncomfortable or uneasy in any way, I would never want to jeopardize the friendship that I feel we have formed over the course of your time here—”

“Gale, hold on—“

“—if I’ve done something to potentially sour anything, just know it was never my intention—“

“Gale!” She raises her voice in a final attempt to catch the rambling wizard’s attention, crossing the space between them and placing her hands on his shoulders.

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense and she can feel the way his body trembles slightly.

“Relax, please. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable. Ever.” She coos, rubbing circles with her thumb into his shoulder.

A few days ago, a gesture like this would’ve made her entire being feel as though she were on fire— but after today, it felt right. After receiving such care and comfort from him, the least she felt she could do was to return it in kind.

He stares at her incredulously, as if he simply just doesn’t believe a word she’s saying.

“You don’t have to spare me, Elara. I saw the way you looked when you left the study. I never want to make you feel that way, ever again.” His face softens as he speaks, the pain of potentially slighting her in some way weighing heavily on his chest.

She blinks a few times, then that gnawing guilt returns with even sharper teeth, maybe some claws too. She pinches her eyes shut and releases a long breath from her nose.

“It wasn’t you. Truly. I just— there is a lot on my mind right now, and I don’t want to burden you with any of it. It’s okay, really.”

It wasn’t a lie, at least not entirely. There was a lot on her mind— even if most of it was that of a certain brown eyed wizard who happened to be standing in her doorway, looking like that.

A great portion of it was her family, though. How much she missed them all. Her uncle, she had begun to miss terribly. She wondered what antics he was up to, as his vague letters did little to quench her curiosity. She hoped he was safe, wherever he ended up or wherever he was heading to.

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her mother’s lap and tell her all about Waterdeep and her lovely tour guide and everything she’d done since she left Rivington. She wanted to hear her father go on and on about how he must meet this man that occupies his most precious and only daughter’s thoughts. She wanted to introduce him to them. They’d love him, she thinks.

No, she knows they would.

His eyes find hers in the dim candlelight, searching them for something, anything that could answer at least one of the myriad of questions he wanted to but couldn’t find the nerve to ask. The pale blue moonlight filters in through the large window on the other side of the room, almost haloing her and basking her in an ethereal glow.

“It’s not a burden if it’s taken on willingly,” he retorts. “I care for you, Elara. Allow me to lighten your load.”

If the room had been any quieter, she swears the sound of her heart booming through the smaller space would be deafening. “It’s not important. You have many other things to concern yourself with, I don’t expect you to—”

“The only thing concerning me presently is—” he pauses. You, is what he wants to say, but can’t seem to wrench it out of himself. “What is important to you is important to me. I meant it when I told you that I would be here for you, no matter the situation.”

How this man has not been wed yet, is beyond madness to her.

“Gale…” it comes out more as a plea, as she feels her resolve to maintain composure weakening bit by bit as the conversation continues. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. And really, she felt now really wasn’t a very opportune time for an orphan sob story. Not exactly the most pleasant thoughts to have to sleep on. She knew from experience.

His shoulders sink. This was one of several attempts now that he’d made to break down the walls she had built up, and he was beginning to feel like the villain rather than the hero coming to rescue the trapped maiden from her tower.

“I do apologize. I fear I’m overstepping once again. Here may be a good place to leave this conversation for now. I’ll let you rest.” He resigns, his words betraying the sullen expression he held.

“Gale, no, I didn’t mean—”

He holds his hand up to stop her. “It’s quite alright. Get some rest. Goodnight, Elara.”

Before she can stop him, he turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

The room suddenly feels several degrees colder than it had prior to what had just occurred. She feels as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs and every bit of strength had been sapped from her body within a split second— emotional fortitude included, as tears that had been begging to be shed that she had been neglecting for longer than she could confidently say finally began to fall, slipping down her cheeks and wetting the collar of her night shirt.

Her head falls back as she makes eye contact with the ceiling once again, gaze finding a large crack just above where she stood. It looked fresh, almost. Like it had occurred within the last day or so.

She wondered if he noticed it while he stood in the doorway.

She wondered if he was in his room, staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom, checking for cracks.

“Goodnight, Gale.” She whispers into the darkness of the night.

tags: @goddess-bound @mirandpeglell @celestialowlbear 🩷 (thank u guys for ur love I hope u like this chapter!!!!)

this is part two of a series - ✧ (chapter 1)

#gale dekarios fic #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios fanfiction #gale dekarios #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #my fics #wti

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