#i'll be honest i just wanted everyone who's followed me so far to submit their pcs just so i could thank them personally

[plulp]

guys i'm so sorry i write so much i promise i'm trying to get better at it 😣 i just have so much to say all the time but i promise i'll try to tone it down since i don't want to clutter your dashes

[dandelion-sugar]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.

[whats-the-story-tc]

20th of March, 2020

"The One with Specs' Very Conflicting Opinions on One Miss V"

Seeing how my friends got responses like "Great answers, thank you!" or anywhere and everywhere within that range of positive and encouraging comments, I got incredibly excited when I was notified of V's response, a bit before 8 AM.

V: "Thank you!"

Total meltdown. I asked everyone I regularly talk to and as far as I'm concerned, I'm the only one without any comment at all. Just that. Just thank you. My perfectionist ass, way too eager to please people, immediately started scouting for what I could've done wrong that I got only this much. Just two words. But as soon as I told Bandana Friend that I now I'm sure I'm boring V to no extent, I got this response:

BanF: "[SPECS] FUCKING STOP"

BanF: "SHE ADORES YOU"

BanF: "WHY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONE SHE TALKS ABOUT EVERYTHING TO"

I couldn't argue with that, though adore is maybe a tad bit too strong for however V may feel about me. Even still, in that very moment, I was quite mad at her. Well, okay, not mad, but... hurt. She wasn't trying to hurt me, that much I know, but I felt like shit. I did everything in my power to write something that would get a strong response, or at least longer than a single word. Now I know it was incredibly pointless and I should've studied more instead, but I spent two hours afterwards crying with varying intensity. I just don't know who she is, not even now, and I didn't have her eyes as a cheat sheet anymore. By the time I'm writing this, I'm getting closer to finding answers, so it's all fine. But at the same time... no, it isn't. I bloody miss her a lot, even though she's constantly within reach, her name and face seared onto my personal contact list on The Platform That Shall Not Be Named, as a reminder.

But enough about my misery, off we go with the rest of the story.

It's 9:30 by the time she returns, informing us in the class chat on The Platform That Shall Not Be Named about the existence of Zoom (you'll know what that is), saying: "Next week, we could already see each other!" I wasn't sure at the time whether I could handle it. To be honest, I'm still not.

An hour-ish later, she returns to the same chat with a test reminder written in all caps.

Another hour later, she pops up in the Messenger chat, her all caps message having no less than four (4) exclamation marks, the sight of which inspired the following text to my friends:

S: "Thank you, Miss. Will there be a twentieth message, too, so I'll feel even more fucked up or was that enough? 🤣"

S: "(Joking.)"

Blonde Boy in the Back joked that he might not make it, V responding the following:

V: "Until now, I've only informed you three times on three different platforms, if you don't write it, at least I'll have to grade less."

Ouch. Ruthless.

About three quarters of the test were things I couldn't cheat out of my handy dandy little notebook, open next to me. They were either literary devices to recognise, things to look up on the Internet, or that one last analysis. Even if you didn't want to, you had to think — or be like those five people who kept messaging me for answers. Okay, I'd be lying if I said it didn't have me whisper-screaming "[V's first name], fuck you" a couple times, but I have to give credit where it's due. She is an absolutely brilliant woman, you guys. Stellar. Incredibly clever and just so good at what she does. I will never not be amazed.

Throughout the whole test, she kept in touch with us, to inform us of a question she messed up and to thank us for the answers that slowly kept coming in. Then, this happened:

V: "received everyone's, you guys were great!"

S: "Seeing the questions were good... 🙂"

V: "I can state that from a grading viewpoint google forms isn't very practical"

V: "But we're all learning 🙂"

Copycat. Also, the day I stop catering to V's ego is probably the day I die. Lmao.

Half an hour later, she thanked us a third time on The Platform That Shall Not Be Named for submitting our answers and dipped, barely to be heard of again (except for a two-letter response to Debate Friend) until Monday.

That very afternoon I was missing school a lot and decided to snoop around on Youtube in search of old videos of my school. I found it a bit funny that V's only been here half the time I have, but is featured in more things. Nevertheless, @justanother-tcblog and I had quite the laugh at some of the things I found. Especially one... rather very peculiar video. Which we're not talking about.

On a closing note, as I was writing I found a conversation from the 6th of September, 2018(!!!) between Bookworm Friend and I. Don't laugh.

BWF: "Btw do you like the English teacher?"

S: "I'm digging her style"

BWF: "Yasss, me too"

S: "Reminds me of myself."

SO I WAS THE ORIGINAL ARSE WHO STARTED IT. This is literally so hilarious. We'd had three classes with her at that point and I was both enticed by and terrified of her. I had no way of knowing "I'm digging her style" would turn into "I'm in love with her" one day. But all the pain aside... I'm glad it did.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[thiswreckageivebecome]

As Long As It Takes (“The End.” -Part 25) (Sebastian Stan x reader)

Description: “I’ll wait for as long as it takes, as long as I get you at the end" You meet Sebastian Stan on the street in New York. What starts off as a fan encounter stretches to an unexpected coffee date and before long you’re caught up in a whirlwind and left with an internal struggle of what to choose.

Word Count: 4108

Warnings: Language.

Authors Note: As noted in the title, this is the final part to this story. Thank you for sticking with me through all of this. It has meant more than you’ll ever know. ALSO, in the process of moving my computer screen was destroyed so I’m trying to post all of this via the mobile app and we all know what a bitch that can be. Therefore, I apologize for the formatting issues that are found here. If it’s too annoying, you can find the story on Wattpad and AO3.

———————————————————————-

The following eight months seemed to rush by, yet move as slowly as slime simultaneously. You worked on getting your things and your life, in many ways, packed up and ready to move into this new chapter of your life.

Sebastian had to assure you multiple times a week that everything would be okay. You knew it in your heart but starting over somewhere new brought you anxiety some days, not to mention that packing to move was the worst experience of your life. When Sebastian had free time, he came down to assist in packing. The majority of the time not much packing was done, but instead laying in bed binging television and just enjoying each other's company. There were some instances, however, when Sebastian did help. The two of you went through your things, things you had retained in your possession all the way back into middle and high school.

"I have hoarding tendencies if you couldn't tell by now," you told him one time after the two of you had spent the last three hours looking through one tub of letters and pictures from way back when. The memories had brought back happy tears to you and much laughter for both of you.

"I love you regardless and I will officially put into my vows that I'll never submit you for that hoarders show."

"Ha-ha," you said the words out stocatto-like, drenched in sarcasm. Soon enough, September was ending and Green Day was calling your name. You had just shipped the last few pieces of furniture to Sebastian's apartment, it still felt weird to say our apartment, when a honking horn was directed at you. You smiled when you saw your friends, Beth and Caroline driving up.  As you hopped in, Beth addressed you first, "ready to go drop some dollar bills!!!" You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Please, please, don't tell me you're actually taking me to a strip club for my bachelorette."

"You'll just have to wait and see," Caroline peeped in. The three of you headed to the airport to board your awaiting plane. When you landed, your friend Talley was waiting for you at the gate. You embraced as you hadn't seen each other in a year or so. You all headed out and to your awaiting vehicle which Sebastian has lined up for you. The limo took you to the hotel where you met Olivia who had flown in from LA to be a part of your wedding party. The five of you decided to nap before heading out for the evening. Sebastian knew you were off limits until the wedding Sunday but you still planned to facetime.

"Hey, babe," Sebastian practically hollered at you once the call connected. You had to rip your headphones out of your ears to avoid hearing damage. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry," he attempted to apologize, not thinking about the headphone not being back in your ears yet. You got the headphones positioned back in your ears and smiled at the screen while talking small.

"You're feeling good, huh?" You chuckled lightly. It was obvious the boys had already gotten started. Seb's eyes were glassy and he had that dorky, albeit very tipsy, smile you loved so much plastered on his face.

"Yeah! We're about to head back out. These dudes, I swear, (y/n), I love them so much." His face quickly sobered. "Not as much as I love you, of course!" His face lightened again.

You busted out laughing as quietly as you could so not to wake anyone already napping.

"Thanks for that. Make sure you tell every one I said hello." The next thing you knew your ears were hurting again before you could remove the headphones.

"GUYS! HEY GUYS!! (Y/n) SAYS HELLO!!" You just barely heard a chorus of "Hey, (y/n)!" in response.

"Babe, you're going to end up marrying a deaf woman if you keep it up."

"Shit. I'm sorry...again."

"It's okay. Well look, I'll let you guys go so you ca-"

"(Y/n), Chris wants to talk to you. Here he is." You heard the phone drop to the floor and the pickup amidst of "Damn, Sebastian. Hey, man. Why don't you go sit down for a minute. I'll bring you the phone when I'm done talking to (y/n) so you can say goodbye." You heard Seb agree before you heard Chris' voice.

"Hey, (y/n), how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Not quite as good as y'all are, though, it seems."

"Not as good as Sebastian and some of the other guys, you mean. I'm good. I've only had a beer or two thus far. Someone's gotta keep an eye on these fellas."

"Honestly, Chris, why am I not surprised?"

"At what exactly?"

"That you're taking it easy so that you can keep an eye out."

"Yeah, well. It seemed like the thing to do."

"Well, I appreciate it, Chris. I mean. It's still early and if they're already that tipsy, there's no telling how crazy the night is going to get." You paused, mind swirling as an unsettling thought crept in. Before you could stop yourself you said it aloud. "Sebastian must be getting really nervous about getting married."

"Hey, hold on just a second." You heard a door open and shut and a few more seconds of little sound.

"I wanted to step out where it's a little quieter so we can chat without distractions. Why do you say that? That Sebastian is getting nervous?"

"Just forget it. I honestly didn't mean to. It just appeared in my mind and transitioned to my mouth."

"Well, it clearly bothers you so I think I shouldn't forget it until we talk about it or you talk about it with someone. I would put Sebastian on the phone but honestly, I don't know how much good it would be with his alcohol-filled headspace right now."

"Chris, I really don't think I want to talk about it," you replied even quieter than before.

"You may not want to, but I really think you need to."

"Look, the thought literally just came out of nowhere because of him being so wasted so early. It just seems like a lot of alcohol very early in the evening. I know sometimes he tends to drown out his concerns with alcohol, not always, but sometimes. God, I make him sound like an alcoholic. He's not, Chris, and that's not how I meant it."

"I know, (y/n), I know."

"Maybe I'm the one that's nervous about getting married."

"No, I don't think you are. I feel like you've never been more sure of anything." His response couldn't help but make you giggle.

"You're right, actually."

"I thought so."

"For what it's worth, I think Sebastian feels the same way. I know I've told you before but I've never seen him this happy in my years of knowing him. I think he just is happy to be back together with his buddies he hasn't seen in a while and they were wanting to drink so he joined can.” He paused. "Man, I make him sound like a peer pressured teen." He started laughing and you joined him.

"You really did to be honest. Awww, teenage Seb. I wish I had known him then."

"Has Georgeta shown you the photo albums yet?"

"We've made it through his second year. That's it, though." He guffawed at this info.

"Well, the good news is, after Sunday, you'll have the rest of your lives to look through them."

"It'll probably take that long too," you giggled. A moment passed. "Thanks for talking with me about the irrational fear that creeped in for a moment. Everyone here is napping so I'd have no one else to talk to about it."

"Of course, (y/n), you're one of my best friends. That means we're here for each other. If you need to chat at anytime all you have to do is pick up the phone. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose I do, despite that I never really think to do so, honestly. That goes both ways. You know that, don't you?"

"I do. Oh God, I hope Sebastian doesn't hear because you realize we just both said 'I do''s, don't you?"

"Oh hell, we did didn't we?"

"Yeah, but I'll keep it on the down low." You laughed.

"Thanks, Chris. I was so worried you were going to show up and try to move in with me," you said sarcastically. "Granted, I'm unsure where you'd move into since I currently an homeless." You could practically hear his eyes rolling in his head.

"You're not homeless, dramatic."

"Well, technically I am still in transition. I'm just saying."

"In transition my ass. All of your shit is here and unpacked."

"No, it's not."

"The stuff you have in your suitcase doesn't count."

"No, but the majority of my stuff is still in boxes spread throughout Sebastian's apartment." He took a moment before answering.

"(Y/n), it's not, I swear to you. I have yet to see a box and I've been here all afternoon." You began to think and wonder because you had literally FaceTimed Seb before the girls picked you up and the only things you had shipped were furniture pieces so all boxes had already made it up there. In fact, Sebastian had tripped over a box of your things while you had been on the call.

"I don't understand." How in the world would he have gotten rid of all of the boxes.

"Hold on a sec." You heard rusting on Chris' end of the line. "Oh shit," you heard him say quietly and you could almost see him looking down in frustration. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry. I think I just ruined a surprise."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I think Sebastian unpacked everything for you and had already put it around the apartment. I bet he wanted you to feel right at home and wanted to surprise you by having everything unpacked when you guys got back. He's already separated his closet and one side is all of your clothes. Shit, (y/n), I'm so sorry."

Your eyes began to tear up, touched by how thoughtful and time consuming this gesture had to have been. He must have only had a few boxes left when you had FaceTimed.

"Oh, Chris. It's okay." You sniffled.

"Oh, God, please don't cry. I feel like shit already."

"No!! No, it's not that. I'm not upset. I'm just touched by his gesture."

"Oh, thank God. I was worried for a minute there."

"Well, look, I need to get off of here and take a nap. Thank you for keeping an eye on him, all of them, tonight. I really appreciate it, Chris. You have no idea how much I do. I know we're not supposed to see each other before Sunday but will you please let me know if anything happens and I need to be there? Or if you need backup because I feel like it's gonna get pretty rowdy."

"Well, you may be right about that, but I can handle it."

"Chris. You have Seb, Mackie, Chase, and Chu. Just those alone are enough to cause concern. Let alone the other four.” Chris busted out laughing in response.

"That is very true. Okay, I'll call if I need backup, I promise."

"Thank you. Also, don't take this the wrong way because I love all of them, but for God's sake don't let Seb promise anyone another spot on the groomsmen team. Please promise me that."

"I got you, (y/n). I'll keep them in line and out of the groomsmen line," he said chuckling.

"Thank you, Chris. Seriously, all joking aside, thank you. I forever owe you for all of this."

"Don't mention it."

"Don't mention what?" You teased.

"Oh okay, smartass. Let me go tell Mackie you added him to the wedding party."

"Shit. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You both began to laugh again.

"Alright, well I'll let you go so you can nap and I can check on the boys. It's awful quiet out there."

"Yeah, you better go, then. I’ll talk to you later and thanks again."

"Anytime, see ya."

You quickly fell asleep. The next thing you knew, you were being awoken by Caroline and Beth jumping up and down on your bed.

"Damn, you guys." You tried to remain serious but couldn't stop yourself from grinning.

"Let's party!!!" They dragged you out of bed and quickly into an almost endless night of fun. After brunch you all finally headed back to the hotel to rest. Vegging out with plenty of laughs, catching up, and chick flicks were all in order on the night before you married the man of your dreams. Sunday came and the wedding went off without a hitch, surprisingly. You all danced the evening away before Sebastian and you headed out for your two-week honeymoon on a 2am flight.

Your honeymoon was spent traveling through Italy, Romania, and the Philippines. Before you both knew it, it was time to return to your home in NY. Sebastian still had a few weeks off of work so you two spent practically every moment together. Once he was down in Atlanta, you decided that you'd begin a job hunt, looking for something part-time. It worked out that Sasha happened to need some extra help around the shop so you stepped in. Since Sasha knew the inner-workings of you and Sebastian's relationship, the job at the shop gave you something to do and some income while he was away yet the freedom to visit him when it was convenient for the both of you. About a year and a half after you were married, you surprised Sebastian on set in Greece.

"Babe!!!" He exclaimed entering his trailer, running to you, picking you up, and spinning you.

"Sebastian," you squeezed his neck, "oh, I've missed you...so fucking much." You kissed him as he released you back to the floor.

"Oh, that goes both ways," he quietly replied after your lips parted. You both smiled softly but only for a moment. "So, babe! What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Ahm, Sebastian, babe. It's called a surprise," you responded sarcastically.

"Oh, thanks for the info. I had no clue." He rolled his eyes back at you.

"I just missed you!"

"Well, I'm so fucking psyched you're here. How long are you here for or is that a surprise too?" Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"No, that's not a surprise. I'm only here a couple of days. I have to be back to work on Monday." Seb's face dropped a little bit. "Sure I can't call Sasha and work something out?"

"Don't call her. She doesn't know I'm here."

"What?" His eyes grew in size. "You didn't tell Sasha something? Since when?"

"Oh, hush!"

"I'm serious!! You told her about that one night that I had to go to the doctor the next day after what we did. It was like you couldn't wait to laugh at me behind my back. Actually I take that back, you laughed in my face. It was like you couldn't wait to have other people laugh with you." You attempted not to bust out laughing in his face once again. "Go ahead, laugh. I can tell you want to. Your face is about to turn purple from you holding it in." You complied and had to bend over as you couldn't stop laughing. He took your arm to keep you from tumbling over. Once you caught your breath again, you leaned back up, thanking him for the laugh and for steadying you.

"Okay, so a little bird told me you get off around seven tonight?"

"Who've you been talking to?"

"A little bird. I just said that."

"Well, you're right so you must have been talking to someone important or at the least, correct," he laughed.

"So dinner tonight?"

"Of course. Then a little dessert?" He winked seductively. "Actually, how about a lot of dessert? Maybe a couple of dessert trips?" He waggled his eyebrows at you. You slapped his chest.

"Stop, Seb. I get it, okay."

"I mean, it's been a month."

"Seb, I get it!" He pulled you by the hips to him, your face flushing.

"Okay, I'll stop...talking about it. But is it a possibility?"

"Dessert is a possibility."

"Wait. Just to be clear...dessert or," his voice dropped to a gruff tone, "dessert?"

"It'll be a surprise." He smiled, reading your mind. No surprise would be had that night. The next morning, however, Sebastian had a big, slightly prankish, surprise waiting for him. He had left you asleep in the hotel suite and headed to work. He stepped up to his trailer on set to go in and get ready, or so he thought. When he opened the door, about 30 pink plastic bodies slid out of the trailer. He was shocked but then he realized what the pink plastic bodies were. He couldn't see anything but plastic bodies inside his trailer.

"Surprise!!!" You shouted behind him about 10 feet off. He spun around quickly, jaw dropped in shock.

"Wait. What??" He said as a ponderous smile began to spread across his face and his eyes ignited with joy. "Are you saying???"

You simply nodded with a painful cheeky grin. He ran to you, picking you up into a bear hug lifting you off the ground in the process.

"We're going to be parents!!!" He shouted for anyone in earshot to hear. Little did he know most everyone on set already knew as you had roped them into helping you with the surprise. Everyone came out of the woodwork, or rather, from behind trailers, props, and inside the building, clapping and cheering, passing on their congratulations.

Later that evening after Sebastian got off of work, he rushed back to the hotel but when he walked in you were asleep. He fixed himself some breakfast for dinner. As he turned around to plate the food, he saw you standing next to the island.

"Shit. Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry."

"Sebastian, it's okay. I didn't mean to fall asleep, it just happened. I wanted to be awake when you got back."

"Are you hungry?? I'll fix some food real quick...for both of you." You smiled and walked leisurely to him, putting your arms around his back and interlocking your fingers behind him.

"I think we're fine for now. We ate a lot earlier. Thank you, though. We both appreciate it."

Sebastian lowered himself to one knee and placed his hand on your stomach despite that no one could really tell you were pregnant yet.

"I can't believe you're here, little one," he said caressing your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to speak softly to the baby and sneaking butterfly kisses here and there.

"You're going to make a great dad, you know."

"You're going to make an even better mom."

"We shall see. I have said for about seven years now that the only way I'd have kids was if they were yours. I couldn't deprive the world of little Sebastians running around."

"I can't wait to meet her."

"You want a girl," you asked incredulously. He stood up to his full height and pulled you close.

"Yeah, I want the world to have a little you running around." You shook your head and chuckled lightly into his chest.

"I love you, Sebastian." After a moment, his hands moving to your arms and leaning you back quickly he exclaimed,

"Wait! So you're telling me, you knew you were pregnant...and we did ....what we did last night!?" You burst out laughing.

"Seb, you can have se-" his hand flew over your mouth stopping your sentence short.

"Shhh!! She doesn't need to know about," he whispered and then softened his whisper even more to finish, " s-e-x yet." You couldn't help but giggle at how silly he was being and he removed his hand.

"Seb. Babe. Stop." You continued laughing. "You're being ridiculous."

"How long have you known?"

"A couple of weeks."

"So...you mean the last time we...before last night, of course."

"A month and a day ago, yes." You grinned.

"I just can't believe this. I'm as happy as I've ever been."

"Me too, babe. Me too."

You went back home. After another couple of months, Seb was home and on hiatus from work for the following two years. In the meantime, he didn't miss a moment of your pregnancy, the child, Sophia Faye Stan coming into this world, or her first year of life. After Sophia had passed the age of three, Sebastian and you began trying again and it wasn't long before soon you were pregnant again. This time you got the little Sebastian you had been hoping for. Mihail Stan was born in May two months to the day before his sister's fourth birthday. Sebastian continued to work but it was less frequent typically only working a couple of months a year and limiting PR so that he could spend time with you and the kids. Your little family purchased two homes, both near enough to either side of the family so that the kids could know their grandparents better. Your family spent three-fourths of the year in NY as it had become your home since moving and the remainder of the time in NC with trips down in between visits. After Mihail had gotten to the age of two it worked out that a new child came into the family but by adoption this time. Rosamie Sampaguita Stan came into your lives on December 22nd. Adopted from an orphanage in the Philippines, Rosamie was dropped off at the orphanage and no one had been able to track down her parents for the past year of her life. She brought so much joy and a feeling of wholeness to your little family.

By the time the kids got to high school, Sebastian decided to limit his work even more. He stuck to jobs that would be local and didn't require travel. You continued your photography business you started after Rosamie turned six. Sophia pursued acting, like her father, but studied at Syracuse. Mihail grew up loving animals and became a veterinarian, moving to North Carolina to attend vet school at NC State. He graduated with honors and moved to Boone to open his own practice. Rosamie remained close to you. She loved to dance and after studying dance at Juilliard, she opened up her own studio downtown, purchasing a home just a few blocks from the quaint two bedroom home you and Seb downsized to after she graduated college.

The remainder of your days were spent with joy and love. You welcomed the sons-in law and daughter-in-law and adored the grandchildren you were blessed with. It was a beautiful 45 years of wedded bliss.

———————————————————

I can't believe it's finally over. A part of me has died as I have enjoyed writing this story so much. Thank you to all of those who read and enjoyed. I'm eternally grateful for your kind words and eyes. I want to quote "Chuck Shurley/a prophet/ God" in Supernatural to finish everything out:

"Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always going to be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you they're a raging pain in the ass...So what's it all add up to? It's hard to say...No doubt, endings are hard. But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?"

@pari0924 @yesixoxo @a-d-v-e-n-t-u-r-e-s @verymuchso-youknow@moniquefitzgerald@chmereaustin@rayonship07@buckyband@wydari@parisispretty@mylexlife@ivoryfoxfigliadeifiori@pepperspraymeiwillpeppersprayyou @crownie-sr@sebstan01@awinterloveuniverse@linksforlaylor@layoutmellet@theliarone@rebekastan98@discophony@inthenameofrock@glitterintheairblog@millie-saurus-rex@celinejfong@camerica96@emilyinbuffalo@seargantbcky@sebbysebbastan@iamwarrenspeace@jeelicious78@valentinachr@badassbaker  @sebbystanlover-vk@mummastace @ssweet-empowerment @void-imaginations @ilovebeingjoyful @superwholockian5ever @mashed-fandom-imagines @the-nonsenseblog

[paildramonnn]

Good luck on your writing endeavors! New year, new content! Here's an idea I'll offer: Ken and Daisuke are voice actors for a cheesy kids anime. Bonus points if Daisuke loves the script and Ken is just desperate for money.

This is the kind of prompt I really love.  Snowglobe AUs are my absolute favorite.  Thank you so much for submitting!  I hope you like it!

The Taller Chronicles racked up three full volumes before it got green-lit for eight episodes by one of the smaller production companies – streaming only.  Children’s anime wasn’t what it used to be, according to the director.  All gimmick and no quality.  But they got a contract with one of the better animation studios, hired a good art director, and left enough aside to pay their actors more than a pittance, which was a nice step up from the usual.

Daisuke auditioned for the role of the hero: Ueda, the plucky and determined eleven-year-old who makes friends every adventure and, at the end of the run, manages to save the day.

Daisuke got the role of the villain: Kuroyashi, the loudmouth who loses his temper every time Ueda foils his plans.

In the lead up to recording, Daisuke read all the manga, talked at some length with the producer and director, and even managed a meeting with the series author, who wasn’t as insightful as Daisuke had hoped.  The enthusiasm was appreciated, all the same.  By the time the show actually airs, Daisuke’s committed to the character one hundred percent.

(It goes like this: Daisuke is on the phone while in line at the grocery store.  It’s a faux pas but Daisuke’s never been all that good with being polite, and it’s his mother, who will blow him up if he doesn’t answer, so whatever.  There is a young-ish couple ahead of him in line, a kid of about six attached with determination to his mother’s hand, but craning around to stare at Daisuke in what can only be suspicion.  Daisuke can’t hear the kid, but he clearly sees him mouth Ueda’s catch phrase while giving him the stink eye – “tsuite masu” – and that’s it.  Daisuke is so proud to be Kuroyashi he might actually be glowing.)

It still stung a little that he didn’t land the Ueda role.  For one, the merch is better on the hero side.  But what really irritates him is how good Ueda’s actor is.  If it had been bad casting, that would be one thing.  Daisuke could at least be smug about it.  But no.  Ichijouji is great.  He’s got this soft, almost sweet voice that you don’t hear the steel in until the stakes are high and some other character is in trouble, and then Ueda might as well be a mountain.  It’s the sort of depth he guesses the casting director didn’t hear in him.

Worse than that, though, is that Ichijouji seems to be a genuinely nice person.  In print interviews, the author is always delighted to point out how good humored Ichijouji is, how polite, how effacing and well spoken.  And in digital format, podcast or video, Ichijouji does actually appear to be all of those things, so he probably isn’t just bribing anyone to give him good face.

Daisuke couldn’t say for certain what kind of person Ichijouji is.  They’ve only met a few times.  The studio they record in is big but they only get one booth at a time, which means that Ichijouji is usually done by the time they bring Daisuke in.  They’ve overlapped once or twice, passing each other in the hall and exchanging polite but impartial greetings.  Hardly the sort of thing that you can hinge an opinion on.  But now that they’re nearing the end of the first season run, it’s time to campaign for a second one, and that means press.  Which means, in turn, plenty of opportunity for the two of them to get to know each other better.

Their first interview together is via conference call, because Ichijouji is already working on another project and is booked solid for another four days.  They squeeze the call in after he finishes up for the day, sounding a little rough through Daisuke’s less than studio quality headphones, but just as polite and eloquent as promised.

Ichijouji praises the hard work that everyone has put in on the show.  Ichijouji praises the series creator, who continues to produce wonderful stories for them.  Ichijouji talks about what a pleasure it is to work on a show that has such an enthusiastic audience.  Ichijouji shares an anecdote about the children in his building finding out who he is.  Ichijouji has perfect hanging all over him, and if Daisuke has to listen to the interviewer giggle flirtatiously one more time, he’s going to interrupt, he really is.

“Were you a fan of the manga before you auditioned?  What made you want to be Ueda?” the man asks, and for the first time since this thing started, Ichijouji surprises Daisuke.

“Oh,” he says, smile still audible in his voice but sheer wattage lowered.  “When my agent told me about the series, I did buy the first volume.  I liked it a great deal.  But, actually, I really wanted to play Kuroyashi.”

Daisuke and the interviewer lap over each other in disbelief:  “What?”

“I think Kuroyashi is really wonderful.  He’s very passionate about everything he does, and I admire that a great deal, even though he doesn’t necessarily want the right things.  I was upset when I didn’t get the part, actually, but Motomiya does such an amazing job with him.  I couldn’t do what he does.”

Daisuke sits forward in his chair so fast he actually manages to bump into his mic.  He bumbles an apology over whatever inane question was going to follow that, and then just keeps going.

“I didn’t know that!  I read for Ueda,” he says, too late to attempt cool detachment but realizing it too late.  “I’ve always played the hero before, you know?  When they told me they wanted me to be the villain, I was pretty mad.  I thought, no one wants to be the bad guy.”

Ichijouji’s laugh is quiet and sweet, just like his character’s, and Daisuke has to bite down on his tongue, hard, to keep in the sudden desire to swear.

A week later, Ichijouji is free and so they meet for another interview in person.  The cafe is European style, not quite busy in the late morning, so it’s easy to spot Ichijouji sitting at a table by himself, cup of coffee already in hand.  Daisuke ignores him for the moment in lieu of caffeine.  His definition of “morning” tends to start a lot later than most people’s.

Ichijouji waves at him, smiling soft and friendly.  “How are you today, Motomiya?”

Daisuke could handle some rivalry before coffee kicks in, but this open pleasantness drags at him.  He collapses into the chair next to Ichijouji, letting himself slump miserably for a few long seconds before rousing, and only that when Ichijouji gives that soft laugh of his again.

“This is my first interview with Animage,” Ichijouji says, confessing or just trying to make Daisuke feel better.

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with that information, but staring uselessly probably isn’t it, so he clears his throat and opens his mouth, trusting it to do the work for him.  It usually does.

“I did one a few years ago, for this fighting thing I worked on.  They did a spread on all the actors for the hero group, you know?  Just little snippets, really.  It was all done over email.  It wasn’t a big deal.  I mean, it wasn’t like this.”

Ichijouji wraps his hands around his mug and nods.  “Hino,” he says, and Daisuke is so distracted thinking long, pale, slender that the word bounces around between his ears for a bit before his brain actually catches it.

“You, uh.”  He makes startled eye contact and then looks away in a hurry, failing hard at being casual.  He forces a laugh.  “You watched that?”

It wasn’t very good, is the thing.  Pretty rote, as far as fighting stories goes.  It got twelve episodes and then no renewal, due to disinterest by all parties, mostly notably the publisher, who had forced a sudden finale out of the mangaka and moved on to another mediocre title.  The fanbase that was still around had left in bitterness and that was it for Hino and the other heroes.

Daisuke dares another look at Ichijouji, watches him go a little tense, a little pink.  The earth shifts.

“I’ve seen all your work,” Ichijouji says, definitely a confession this time.

Daisuke pictures his CV, all typed out in acting credits.  It’s not that deep, mostly side characters, a few episodes here and there on various longer series, just two leads, and now a single villain role.  It would take some serious trawling to find all of it.  Even Daisuke hasn’t seen all of it.

Daisuke pictures Ken’s filmography: leads in smaller projects, independent studios and short films, two RPGs, a visual novel, and even a couple live action items, from back when he was a teenager.  He actually had to email the distributor of the NVL, to get ahold of a copy.

“Yeah,” Daisuke finally says.  He doesn’t realize he’s still staring until Ichijouji looks up, until he feels the spark of eye contact again.  He smiles.  “Yeah, I’ve.  Yours too.  I mean, to be honest, I had the RPGs before I knew you were in them.”

He has a figure of Ichijouji’s character, too, but he’ll go to his grave with the secret.

Ichijouji goes pinker but holds his gaze, and Daisuke can’t help but lean toward him.

“In the new chapter,” Daisuke says, “when Ueda and Kuroyashi find each other in the haunted house, they can feel their hearts beating together.”

Ichijouji presses his fingertips against the front of his sweater, so gently the fabric barely shifts under the touch, and Daisuke swears he can feel it under his ribs.