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mangowillow · 1 year

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last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person?

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead.

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?”

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night.

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen.

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than.

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you.

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…”

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond.

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.”

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.”

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated.

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights.

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul.

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him.

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond.

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles.

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio.

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away.

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction #woosung x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook divorce au #jungkook fanfic #childhood friends #divorce au #mwillow: last to know

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padfootagain · 1 year

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Love on Tape

Hello everyone! Today, we’re answering a request made by @simpforhotties : “Hi honey!! So I just watched Ben Barnes's 11:11 music video and it's so good!! Soooo what about a Ben Barnes x reader where she appeared in the music video (imagine Evan Rachel Woods isn't there but her) and then people especially his fans are like 'who tf is that, she isn't an actress' soo a lot of questions about her have been flooding the internet bc she's a beautiful girl and no one knows about her then maybe a week later after the music video has been released Ben announced his engagement to her and then her name and identity has been revealed like 'oh my that girl is a photographer or a make up artist (whichever you prefer) and then she was like getting a lot of comments like 'congratulations y/n' I'M SO SHITTY AT EXPLAINING BUT IF YOU'RE ABLE TO MAKE IT TYSM!! Ohh and please tag this ACC @simpforhotties LOVE YOUR WORK!! 💗💗”

Thank you so much for your request! It was a lot of fun to write, and it also gave me a good excuse to watch over and over again Ben’s video, so… a full win for me!

I got a little overexcited, and it grew a little long, but I doubt you’ll hold that against me… Also, a huge thanks to all of you who helped me finding back that interview where Ben talks about being in a graveyard when 11:11 dropped. I struggled so much finding it again, and I needed it for this fic, so thank you, my fellow Bin Bons fans!

I hope you all like this adorable little piece! Tell me what you think about it!

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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warning: No nsfw content but intimate scene and very heavy innuendo at the beginning. Absolute fluffiness. The fluffiest of the fluff. Cavities guaranteed.

Summary: Ben is working on his music video for 11:11, and he asks you to be a part of it. But not simply as a make-up artist, no, he wants to use this opportunity to announce your engagement to the world, in a subtle way.

Word Count: 6536

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Your body was exhausted, aching, but in the best way. You shivered a little, remnants of sweat still covering some parts of your body, but you weren’t willing to move just yet, even if simply to pull up the sheet over your frame.

You didn’t need to, anyway. Ben had spotted the goosebumps spreading over your arms, and he tugged you in, slipping his hand under the covers to grab your waist and gently pull you closer. You complied, leaned into his chest, that glimmered under the dim lights of your bedroom. You didn’t mind the perspiration though, when you rested your palm against his heart. It had found back a steady rhythm, after the frantic beating of pleasure. Soft, calm, constant, safe…

He leaned down to press his lips against your forehead, right at your hairline, and you smiled into your pillow at the tender gesture.

When you looked up at him, he was grinning, still a little dazed, almost looking high after your adventures under the sheets…

You loved this look on him. The bliss in his smile, and the dizzy look in his eyes, and his dishevelled hair…

“So much for a full night of rest before your audition, tomorrow,” you teased him, glancing over at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

It was almost one in the morning.

“Yeah, well… You have better arguments than my agent.”

You laughed at his silly jokes, running your fingers through his beard, the delightful tickles it elicited making you shiver again.

“Why do I feel like these arguments are situated around my chest or right under my back…”

“Well… you know me well.”

You swatted him playfully on the shoulder for that, making him giggle.

“I’m kidding!”

“Only-half kidding, I do know you.”

“I’m not going to deny that these elements of your body are absolutely stunning. But then, everything about you is stunning.”

You tried to refrain a grin, but failed.

“Sweet-talker.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

You shushed his chuckle with your lips, and he didn’t complain, moving to roll you to your back. He propped himself up on an elbow by your side so he could stare at you, a dreamy smile on his lips. You ran a finger along the upward curve, his lips were a little bruised after kissing you so much tonight, their shade redder than usual. He kissed the pad of your finger when you moved it across his mouth a second time. He playfully bit your finger when it crossed his lips a third time, making you giggle, and you chose to resume your ministration across his cheek instead, lightly scratching him through his beard, making him let out a content sigh.

“Show me your hand,” he asked, and you chuckled at that, shaking your head fondly.

You yielded anyway. Since the two of you got engaged a few weeks before, Ben kept on asking to see your engagement ring. It was such a pretty sight, after all, the ring sitting perfectly around your finger…

He enlaced your fingers together, looking at the shining gem, and grinning like a fool… he didn’t care for a second about it though. He truly was the happiest he had ever been in this moment…

“Don’t know who gave you this, but he has great taste,” he joked, succeeding at making you laugh.

“He does, indeed. But he’s also a moron.”

“Hey! That’s not nice at all! And to say that to your fiancé! I feel outraged!”

“I’m the one who proposed to you! You were too slow about it. So, I can call you a moron.”

“True. But I didn’t get a pretty ring out of your proposal, did I?”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling, and he was laughing as he kept on teasing you.

“Did I get one of these? No, I didn’t! I took my time, but at least I did it right.”

“I did it right too! It was romantic!”

“You proposed to me after sex, that was not romantic at all.”

“I proposed to you after a romantic date, that I planned, with a romantic dinner and a great movie and some mind-blowing red wine. I even had petals on the bed and candlelight all around the bedroom! I was super romantic about it.”

His teasing smile turned into a cocky smirk as he nodded.

“True. You really are crazy about me.”

“Oh, shut up!”

But you yielded easily when he laughed and went on a mission to kiss every single inch of your face.

“I am crazy about you, that’s why I asked you to marry me and then accepted this very pretty ring,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pulled away to stare at you again while you lost your fingers in his hair, and you loved seeing him smile so much.

“Good. Cause I’m absolutely crazy about you, too.”

“Oh, I know you are,” you teased, and your entire body warmed up at the sound of his bright laughter.

“You’d better know it, I literally tell you everyday how much I love you.”

“You do,” you nodded, brushing your nose against his, a fond smile on your lips.

But when he pulled away again, he seemed more serious, and you couldn’t refrain a frown at the sudden change of mood.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you, actually. Something important.”

You nodded, gently scratching his scalp, and he leaned into your touch without noticing.

“We’ve decided to make a public announcement about our engagement,” he spoke softly, his words cautious. “And I still think it’s a good idea, don’t get me wrong...”

“But?”

“But… there is something I want to do with you, and I don’t know if it would be too much for you.”

“Too much?”

“I don’t want to drag you into the spotlight if you don’t want to, love.”

“We agreed on the Instagram post,” you reminded him. “I’m okay with it. I’m okay with posting a picture of us, together, and to clearly say who I am…”

“I know, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

He took a deep breath, and you wondered why he seemed so nervous now. It was just you. There was no need for him to act all shy.

“I’m going to work on the music video for my album in a couple of weeks, you remember that?”

“How could I forget? Of course, I remember, baby!”

“I just thought… You know how important this is to me and… you know that this song is about you. About how we struggled at the beginning, even if I was already madly in love with you at the time. And so, I just… I’d like you to be there.”

You grinned.

“Of course, I’ll come to help! Besides, you’ll need a make-up artist for that…”

But he interrupted you with a shake of his head.

“No, I mean… I want you to be in the video.”

You stared at him, clearly taken-aback as your mouth fell open.

“Me? Like a… a cameo?”

“I want you to be the girl in the video. I want you to… be you. The woman I love, the woman I’ve been loving for years…”

“But I’m not an actor…”

“It’s okay. It will just be a few scenes. You’ll be brilliant.”

“But I… I’ve never done anything like that. What if I mess it up? And you only have a day to shoot the video, what if you lose too much time because of it…?”

But he shushed you, softly, calmly, and you knew he longed to give you a reassuring smile, but there was something desperate in his gaze setting his black irises ablaze.

“I understand if you don’t want to do it. Because it would mean that you would appear in the video. And it would… put you in the public eye even more than our official engagement. And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. But I… I want it to be you. I wrote this song for you. All of my songs are always about you. This is the first time that I’m going to put my own music out there, something I’ve actually written about my real life, about my real feelings, and… that I’m proud of. And I want you to be a part of it because… because you’re the reason behind it all. Because I can’t imagine myself singing about our own story to another woman. Because… I want you to be there. I want to share this moment with you. And I know that you will be brilliant, really, that is the last of my worries. My only worry is that it would make you uncomfortable to be in a video, where people are going to wonder who you are, what we are to each other…”

“What if we made our announcement before the video then?”

“We could, if it makes you feel better.”

You pondered the question for a moment, but then, you shook your head. You had a tender smile on your lips again, and Ben could do nothing but wear the same one on his own features.

“Or… actually, we could make the announcement after your video has come out. Your music video would be… kind of… like… a pre-announcement. And that would be a lovely way to do it.”

Your two smiles expanded into full grins.

“I think so too,” he nodded.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. But I expect some coaching for my acting from a professional!”

“I’ll see if I can get someone to come over for that,” he joked, leaning closer.

“We haven’t seen Anna in a while, she would be awesome.”

He laughed at that, rolling his eyes.

“Very well, whatever you want,” he mumbled against your lips.

“She’ll be a better teacher than you.”

“How dare you?! Fuck you!”

But you pulled him down for a heated kiss, one that made him melt into your arms, and gasp as you gently pulled on his hair exactly the way he liked, and made him lose all coherent thought…

When you pulled away, you kept your lips close to his, eyes closed, and a devilish grin on your features.

“Well, if you’re the one to fuck me, then that sounds like an excellent plan.”

You didn’t get another chance to tease him some more.

And he had terrible dark bags under his eyes the next day for his audition…

You were used to the quick pace of a set, to the loud noises and people running around. You worked as a make-up artist in LA, after all. It was even how you had met your fiancé, a long time ago, on the set of a TV-show where you had poured too much powder on his cheek and he had struggled to look at anything but you the whole time…

It was such a long time ago, it still felt like yesterday.

You were nervous now, though. Because you were not the one applying make-up, but the one sitting on a chair being pampered.

Ben was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for you to be ready for the next scene.

It was easy. Just walk by his side, smile, help him put on a vest. Then he’d walk further away. The next shot, you would act like you were fixing his make-up…

And you knew that he had included these details because of you. Because they represented how the two of you had met. Because they represented you.

Still… you said nothing of it. Your heart was too full of love for any words to be spoken about it.

You thanked the make-up artist, and walked over to Ben, spinning around to give him a full view of your outfit.

“Do I look okay?” you asked, clearly nervous.

But Ben was staring at you, his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe wearing a suit, and he had such an adoring expression on his features… like he was staring at some kind of blinding light. But then again, that was exactly what he thought of you. The brightest star in his sky…

“You look breathtaking,” he answered earnestly, and you couldn’t help but shy away a little.

“Thanks. You look incredible too.”

He grinned at that.

“Doing my best.”

“Well, your best is an awful lot to take in.”

He laughed at that, and you soon joined him. You accepted his hand when he offered it to you.

“It’s time to go. Are you ready, darling?”

You nodded, moving towards the set with him. Hand in hand. And you found that you weren’t so afraid anymore, holding his hand. And as the scene played out, it wasn’t difficult to look up at Ben and catch his infinite dark eyes and get lost in them, and to smile up at him, and to look like you loved him because… you did. More than anything.

And Ben reckoned that it had never been so easy for him to seem enamoured, to look at someone before a camera and grin, and stare at them with adoration painted all over his features… Because, well, that was how he felt, for real.

It was easy, none of you had to act at all.

“Love!”

You smiled at the excitement in Ben’s voice, turning towards the door. You were snuggled on the sofa, under a warm blanket, looking like a comfortable mess, right out of the shower, and ready to play a movie or some crappy tv-show to end the night before going to sleep.

Or well, that was before your fiancé came running in the room, calling for you, looking as excited as a kid.

“What is it, baby?” you asked him as he jumped on the sofa by your side, his laptop in his hand.

“The music video is done!” he answered with so much pride in his eyes, you loved seeing him this way. “Just got sent the final version. We were almost done when I left the studio this afternoon, there were just a few problems with the sound. It’s been fixed while I was driving home, and I’ve just gotten the email with the video. Do you want to watch it with me?”

You grinned at the offer, your gaze growing more tender.

He was wearing comfortable clothes too, an old red t-shirt and some sweatpants, his hair still wet from the shower. You caressed his cheek in a tender, intimate gesture. He was about to start working on this horror series, and he needed to be clean-shaven for the role. It was still a little strange to see him without a beard, to run your fingers across soft skin instead of tickling hair.

“Of course, I want to! Let’s watch it together! Have you seen this version of it yet?”

“No, not yet. I’ve literally run across the flat from my office to show you,” he giggled as he answered, blushing hard, and your heart swelled at the sight.

He was so adorable sometimes… still growing a little shy, a little self-conscious…

But you distracted him with a kiss, and it seemed enough to bring back his proud smile.

“Let’s watch it!” you said, excited.

You settled into Ben’s arms, and he waited until you were comfortable to start the video, his grin growing fonder and fonder every second as he stared at you. You noticed his intense glance, and looked up with a shy frown.

“What? I’m just getting comfy.”

“Nothing, I just… I love this. Seeing you like this every day. That’s the best part.”

You giggled at that, shying away.

“Seeing me in pyjamas, my hair a mess, and looking barely presentable, is it really the best part of dating me?”

But Ben nodded, perfectly serious, as he brushed a strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Yeah, it really is. Seeing you like this every day… I can’t wait to do that for the rest of our lives.”

You leaned up to kiss him, trying to hide the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes.

“I can’t wait for that either,” you whispered against his mouth, making him grin.

“Only a few months to wait till we’re married,” he reminded you.

“I can’t wait to call you husband…”

“Oh, that sounds good… I love it. Say it again.”

“I can’t, you’re not my husband yet!”

He huffed, turning his head to get away from your lips.

“You’re so cruel.”

You laughed at him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Alright, show me our masterpiece!”

“I’m the one who wrote the song, remember?” he teased.

“But who was your inspiration, mister artist? Who was your muse?”

He grinned, scrunching his nose in an adorable way.

“Alright, that’s fair enough.”

“I think so too. Besides, I’ve made this video with you.”

“True, true… alright, you win. Our masterpiece it is.”

He dropped a kiss on your forehead before focusing on the screen in front of him, and starting the video.

And you loved it. Every second of it. You teased Ben about being almost naked, and he rolled his eyes. You teased him about how good he looked in this shirt, and in this suit. And you teased him about this high note he nailed. You teased him about everything, and in every word you spoke was laced along with humour something incredibly tender and loving that Ben had no trouble recognizing. Because it made you too emotional to talk about the way he looked at you in every shot, with nothing but adoration. It was too hard to talk about how wonderful this song was, about all these details about your relationship he included that you knew no one would notice but you. You needed to tell him, but you couldn’t. You gathered your strength to fight against your tears and to gaze up lovingly at him while you spoke in a whisper.

“I am so proud of you.”

His grin turned into a tender smile, and you saw tears shining in his eyes.

“Thank you. You’re amazing in this video.”

“I’m gawking at you 99% of the time.”

“You are. But then I’m also gawking at you 99.5% of the time, so it’s alright.”

You both laughed at that, but when he put away his laptop to hold you closer, that he slipped his hand under your shirt to rest his palm against your lower back, that he cupped your cheek and let his thumb travel across your skin, you knew what he was about to say before he spoke the words. You could read it in the way his dark eyes softened, in the way his expression turned dreamy, almost thankful.

“I love you, my darling.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Thank you, for doing all this with me.”

“You did amazing. I’m so proud.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, his laptop disregarded on the coffee table. And you couldn’t wait for the whole world to see what he had made.

It was surprisingly cold in the graveyard, but then again, it was midnight in this late summer, early autumn. Middle of September, and if the leaves were still green, the cold wind brought the first signs of the upcoming season. It didn’t help that it was past midnight now, that Ben was tired, and that he had spent most of his day forcing himself to be scared.

Working on a horror movie was strange, out of his acting habits, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the process. The crew took, perhaps, a little too much pleasure with messing with him, but he had asked them to do so, he reckoned he was the only one to blame.

Guillermo Del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosities was an interesting project, and a tiring one. Exhausting, even. Being constantly terrified was beginning to take its toll on Ben, even if he tried to be joyful whenever the loud cut was screamed. Still, being in a graveyard on a cold evening past midnight was not helping.

He heaved a tired sigh as the director offered a five-minutes break between two scenes. He headed straight for the coffee pots, trying to avoid talking to people for a few minutes. It wasn’t the healthiest reaction to have in his current mindset, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to be alone for a moment.

He picked up his phone, and considered calling you, but he didn’t dare. You had an important meeting on Zoom the next morning, and he guessed you were already asleep. Still, he longed to hear your voice. He was working mainly during the night this week, which meant that you didn’t have much time to spend together. He missed you…

He was lucky though. You were not working on any movie or TV-show for a couple of months, and had decided to travel to Toronto with him while he shot this project for Netflix. And he was so grateful for this decision, because he couldn’t deny that he needed someone to be home waiting for him during this project. It helped tremendously to keep him grounded, to shake out most of his character when he came back to the small flat you were renting together for a few months to find you reading on the sofa under a pile of blankets, or humming in your tiny kitchen while you made dinner, or hearing the steady flow of the shower while you bathed.

But it was too late at night to hear your voice, and Ben reckoned that he would have to wait for the next day to see you.

He wasn’t expecting to see your name appear in his notifications though, as he unlocked his phone. He smiled all the same, looking for your text.

His smile turned into a grin as he read your series of short messages. They had been sent precisely at midnight.

11:11 is officially out!

Have been for about 20 seconds.

You’re probably working, but I wanted to be the first to say CONGRATULATIONS MY LOVE YOU’RE AMAZING!!

I might have taken a little bit of alcohol to celebrate, and now I am a little tipsy.

Tipsy tipsy ooooops!

Anyway, I love yuo!

*uyo

*you

Sorry

Tispy, you see?

I’m sorry I can’t wait for you to come hame but I’ve got a meeting early tomorrow and I need to sleeeeeeeeeep!

*home

Sorry, topsy

*tipsy

Wow, I’ve literally sent like a dozen texts I should stop, I’m being such a creep.

Anyway, congratulations again, my love! I’m so proud of you!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hope you’re having a nice day at work (even if you’re probably in a graveyard now, still, who knows, maybe zombies are good company!)

Now I have this Cranberries song stuck in my head.

Going to bed. Love you!

My head hurts

He couldn’t help but laugh at your silly texts, grinning fondly at his phone. You were so adorable…

He hurried to type an answer.

Thank you so much, darling. You can’t imagine how much your silly texts are making me happy right now. I am indeed in a graveyard, that’s very grim, the skeletons are not great conversation-wise.

Sleep well, I’ll see you tomorrow. And good luck for your meeting, I know it’s an important one for your next project, but you’ll be amazing. You always are.

Love you!

He added a couple of heart emojis and pressed sent.

With everything going on on set, he had forgotten about his music video. But he was unbearably proud now that he was reminded that his music was out there, in the world.

And he thought he would be stressed about it all, anxious, but he wasn’t. He felt relieved that his song was out. He felt happy about it. He loved the song, he loved the music video, there was nothing else to worry about. He was comfortable enough in his own skin to not worry about reactions to his music. It was his, first and foremost, that was the whole point. He hoped some would connect to it, but it wasn’t the most important thing about the whole project.

Besides, you liked it. You were proud of him. That was all that mattered, really…

The video was out. At long last. It had been released twenty-four hours before, at midnight, but Ben was out in a cemetery somewhere in Toronto at the time, and you had an early zoom meeting in the morning. You couldn’t possibly stay awake till he would come home at 5am. Then, you were working all day while he slept, and you had merely seen him a few minutes throughout the day, just enough to congratulate him, give him some kisses and grab a coffee before going back to work while he was getting ready to leave this flat that wasn’t yours, that was only a temporary home in Toronto.

It was tough sometimes, to follow him around the world, and sometimes your different professional projects didn’t align, but you had not hesitated when you had noticed that you would be free for most of the time Ben would spend in Canada working for Netflix. And so, there you were. But if you couldn’t see Ben during the day, you were waiting for him to come home now.

You didn’t want to see reactions to the video without Ben, but he was busy at work for the day. Still, some of your friends and family members kept on sending you cute videos of people dancing to the song, and covers were already popping up only hours after the release. And you knew that it would mean that Ben would feel so proud of himself, and rightly so…

You waited for him to come home, but he was working for a part of the night again, and he didn’t arrive before midnight, before the lights outside had been turned on, before the moon was at its full height, before the rest of the street was peacefully sleeping.

He seemed exhausted when he entered, but he smiled at the sight of you nonetheless.

“I thought you would be asleep,” he admitted, his smile widening as you walked over to him and gave him a hug.

“No, I wanted to wait for you. So I could congratulate you properly on your first music video coming out!”

He chuckled, tightening his hold on you.

“Thank you.”

“Did you see all the videos and covers and stuff our friends have sent during the day?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s amazing to be honest. Did you see that woman dancing in her kitchen? She seemed so happy…”

“I saw that, yes. She did look very happy.”

“So… all went well, then. And these comments…”

“I haven’t read them yet!”

“Really?”

He pulled away, raising a surprised eyebrow.

“Wow… are you finally showing self-control?”

“Hey!” you swatted his arm, making him laugh. “I’ve just waited all night for you to come home, and that’s your reaction?”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. That was a little mean. True, but a little mean.”

“You know what, I’ll go to bed, now…”

“No! No, wait! Stay, we can read them together.”

“Did you have anything to eat on set?”

“Only a few snacks.”

“I’ve made some lasagna.”

“Really?” he asked with a grin.

“To celebrate, you deserve my lasagna.”

“I love you. You’re the best.”

“I know!”

You laughed as you walked into your kitchen, hand in hand.

You waited for Ben to warm up his meal, and he frowned as you yawned.

“You should go to sleep, love, you’re working tomorrow,” he admonished. “You shouldn’t have waited for me.”

“It’s okay, I wanted to. Besides, I want to read these mysterious comments with you!”

He offered you a bright smile, giving up without much of a fight as he walked back to the table with his warm plate in his hands, and he took a seat next to you. After all, he was happy you were still up. He was relieved the video was out, and he was glad that the reactions were good, but he still had had a long day filming difficult scenes, and he reckoned that he needed you now. Because he was tired, because there was a lot going on all at once for him, and because he needed to shake the remnants of his character away…

And it felt good. To see you sitting there, looking tired but comfy, in your kitchen, when it was dark outside and the city was asleep. It was safe, certain, steady. The fear he had to wear all day because of his character finished to fade away as you rested your hand on his thigh and gave the limb an affectionate squeeze.

It felt good to be himself again.

“Alright, let’s see these comments! Were they nice?” you asked, looking for his video on youtube on your phone.

“They were nice. And many were about you.”

“About me?” you asked, turning shy now.

“Of course. You’re not an actress, you’re not famous… everyone is wondering who is gawking at me for 99% of the video.”

“Oh, I see. And I bet they’re wondering who you’re gawking at for 99.5% of the video too!”

“Precisely!”

You went through the comments, pointing at a few cute ones to Ben, and he read them on your phone with you while eating his late dinner.

And indeed, he wasn’t lying. Many comments were about you…

Ben is amazing! HIS VOICE! A TRUE ANGEl! But… huh… who is the girl?

Who the hell is that, is she an actress?

Oooooooh! Who’s the pretty woman with Ben in this?! They have such great chemistry!

Hang on, there is so much longing and lovey-dovey eye contact between these two that I’m pretty sure this is Ben’s actual girlfriend. I wonder who she is!

You looked up at him with a shy smile.

“So… we had kind of predicted that, right?”

“We did,” he nodded, being more cautious now, choosing his words carefully. “People are awfully curious.”

“What do you think will happen when… what was the name of the guy? Simp4BritiBarnes will find out that I am, in fact, your girlfriend?”

“Well, I don’t know, cause they will actually find out that you are my fiancée!”

You both laughed at that, cutting some of the tension that had settled in the room.

“If you want not to go public, that’s now or never,” Ben offered, his voice soft and soothing, and you knew he was being careful now, afraid to choose the wrong words. “It can remain just that: you can remain the mystery girl from my music video. And then, you won’t have to deal with any… weird messages and… rumours and… mean tweets and… our life will go back to normal. The way it always was.”

“Yeah, and I’ll have to keep being careful not to hold your hand too much in public, and not to kiss you on the subway…”

“It’s a choice. I’m ready to make it official, but in both cases, that’s a lot to take in. I know it is. I won’t be mad if you want to take a step back and reconsider our decision.”

“Do you have any doubts about our announcement?”

“No, I don’t. I want to go public. I’m ready for it. But we need to be on the same page for this. And if you’re not ready, I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you, you know I will.”

You nodded, but your smile was unfaltering when you looked up at him again.

“I want us to announce our engagement, just the way we wanted to, the way we’ve planned it.”

“You’re sure?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh.

“You are getting me in so much trouble, Benjamin Barnes!”

He laughed, pulling you closer to kiss your temple.

And yes, you were certain. You had never been so certain of anything in your life. You were certain about him.

The Instagram post was ready, all you had to do was to publish it.

You were sitting on the sofa, Ben by your side. Both of you on your phones, you were preparing the same post for both your accounts. A united announcement with nothing fancy.

You would post a picture of Ben sipping on some red wine on your balcony; a pretty, relaxed picture of him enjoying a good meal with you, looking at the sun coming down and the sky be set on fire. Meanwhile, he would post a picture of you running away from a wave in Malibu, laughing like mad; a happy, ordinary picture of you enjoying an afternoon under the sun and the quiet waves.

Under the pictures, the common comment was a simple one:

Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.

You would add an #engaged, and identify each other in the picture, and that would be it. After that, you would officially be together for the whole world to see.

And you would have been lying had you pretended not to be nervous, because you were. Unbearably so, even. But then again, you loved him. You were certain…

A week had passed since the music video for 11:11 had been posted on youtube, but you had no doubt that people would quickly identify you. Ben had clever fans, after all…

“Alright, I’m all set,” you told Ben, looking up at him.

“Hang on…”

You mockingly chuckled at him.

“Come on, Ben… you know how to use insta…”

“Oh, shut up! I’m old. I’m old and grumpy and terrible with this stuff…”

“I have tried to coach you…”

“You laughing at me with gifs and memes is not coaching me.”

“You remember gifs and memes?”

“I don’t remember which is which to be honest. Are memes the image ones with text?”

“Yes, they are,” you tried hard not to laugh too much, but failed miserably.

“Right… Okay, I’m ready.”

You looked at his phone, and nodded as you checked the details of the post. But everything was ready.

“I like this picture of me,” you admitted, making Ben grin.

“It’s one of my favourites. This was such a good day.”

“You loved the date I prepared for you too.”

“Delicious pizza and then an amazing movie, how could I not love it? Especially if the evening is spent with you.”

You kissed him as a reward for his tender words, before turning to your phone again.

“You look amazing in this picture!” you showed him the pic you had chosen, making him blush, his smile growing shier.

“Hmm… not too bad, I’ll admit…”

“You look super hot.”

“Well, thank you,” he chuckled, blushing all the way up to the tip of his ears.

“But then, you always look amazing…”

He chuckled, wincing.

“Thank you, my love.”

“You’re alright? You’re kind of blushing a bit…”

“Stop teasing me, I swear…”

You both laughed, before focusing on your phones again, your thumbs hovering above the screens.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice gentle again.

And you nodded, your tone firm as you replied.

“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

And at the same time, you both pressed your thumbs on the screens, and the posts were sent across the world.

“And now, we wait for the storm, right?” you asked, taking a deep breath.

“Hmm…” he nodded. “But then again, we can also head out and have a nice lunch somewhere.”

“And not look at our phone until tonight?”

“Exactly.”

You agreed with a grin.

“But then, we’re going for a walk after lunch.”

“Anything you want.”

“Oh! I know! We still haven’t been to the Royal Ontario Museum! Maybe we could visit a part of it after lunch!”

He offered you a tender smile.

“Alright, that’s a good idea.”

“I know you’re tired with your role, and you’ve been working during the night a lot these days…”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I’m fine. Besides, it will do me good to play the tourist.”

You put your phone away, moving closer to him.

“Having trouble disconnecting with your character?” you asked, even if you already knew the answer.

Ben was quieter these days, sometimes he moved in a way that wasn’t really his. It was easy to spot it when he struggled to get out of his character’s head.

“Yeah, a little bit,” he admitted. “I’m okay, though. I’m here.”

“I know. You’re literally laying on half of this gigantic sofa, hard to miss your tall frame…”

He laughed at that, bright and earnest.

“A museum sounds great. Let’s do that after lunch.”

And the rest of your day was pretty perfect. You both turned off your phones, so you wouldn’t be bothered by notifications, by texts from your friends or family or colleagues. Instead, you ate some delicious Indian food, before heading to the ROM museum, where you spent a long time looking at a part of the exhibitions. You stayed there until the museum would close, and spent some more time walking across the streets of Toronto, enjoying the city while you could. And for as long as you were outside, you enjoyed an amazing afternoon with your fiancé, being nothing more or else than Ben and Y/N, laughing until your cheeks were sore and holding hands as mush as you could, and stealing kisses while you walked… And you didn’t think about the announcement again until the afternoon was over, the sun was beginning to set, and it was time to go home.

When you came back to your flat, found back your phones and turned them on once more, you were bombarded with texts and comments on your post, and Ben found the same tidal wave drowning his own phone.

You were surprised though. You expected most of these messages to be hateful, and there were nasty comments under your publication, but there were also many cute ones. Many colleagues or friends also called you or sent you texts to congratulate you, joking that they would expect an invitation.

And on Instagram, everybody was going crazy, but mainly in a cute and excited way. Ben showed you a couple of comments and posts made by his fans that congratulated the two of you that sounded hilariously excited about the whole thing.

And even if there were a few nasty comments, most were nice. You were smiling again, instead of looking nervous, and Ben gently nudged you to get your attention.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No, not so bad,” you agreed.

“People are pretty nice.”

“Yes, they are, so far. These are nice comments.”

“So… no regrets?”

But you could hear in his tone that he was asking about more than the announcement and the Instagram posts. He was asking about the two of you as well. About the ring on your finger. About the promise you would speak in a few months. About the decades to come that you had decided to spend by his side.

Your smile widened until it was a grin, one that illuminated his entire world.

“No, Ben. No regrets. Never when it comes to us.”

******************************************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic @simpforhotties

#ben barnes #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes oneshot #ben barnes fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oneshot

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yanny-77 · 4 months

Text

Are We There Yet?

An Empyrean Drabble featuring Xaden driving the Iron Squad to the beach. He has many regrets. Mainly that Ridoc's annoying as fuck and Violet makes him way too horny for him to be comfortable trapped in the car with her best friends.

Pour one out for Sawyer's pants. Sorry for what I had to do to you, man.

Read the drabble after the break or on AO3.

“Are we there yet?” Xaden groans. This is the third time Ridoc's asked in the last five minutes. Why did his girlfriend have to get saddled with the most annoying squad in the quadrant? Couldn't she have been matched with someone cool? Someone like Bodhi or Garrick. “Not yet, Ridoc,” Violet says, endlessly patient. It’s one of the many reasons Xaden loves her. “How much longer?” Her friend whines. “About two minutes less than the last time you asked,” Xaden grumbles. “What was that, Riorson?” Xaden glances in the rearview mirror to see Rhiannon Matthias smirking up at him from the back seat where she sits wedged between Ridoc Gamlyn and Sawyer Henrrick. Xaden’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. His white-knuckled grip is the only thing keeping him from throwing one of these assholes out a window. “I said it’s a nice day for the beach.” “Uh-huh.” Xaden tears his eyes away from the back seat. Because Garrick and Xaden are the only ones with cars, and because Xaden is dating Violet, he’s stuck driving the children instead of riding with his friends. It’s a tight squeeze in his Sedan, a sleek dark blue Audi. The trunk is filled with their overnight back and floaties, which means that their beach bags are in the back seat. The cooler with their drinks and sandwiches is balanced on Sawyer’s lap. The man’s legs keep jiggling up and down, jostling the ice and sloshing the water. “I’m not the only one who’s bored. Sawyer’s all jittery.” Ridoc presses his face against the window. “I know! Let’s play a game.” A groan comes from the other side of the back seat. “Guys, I really have to pee.” “I spy with my little eye something silver,” Ridoc says, ignoring Sawyer’s announcement. “Can you hold it?” Violet asks. Xaden chances a glance at her, taking his eyes off the road. She’s turned around, looking at Sawyer in the backseat with concern. A car changes lanes and Xaden has to swerve to avoid it. “Fuck,” Sawyer whimpers as he squirms in an attempt to get comfortable. “Be careful, Xaden,” Violet scolds. “You need to keep your eyes on the road.” “It’s in this car,” Ridoc hints. “Shut up, Ridoc,” Rhiannon says. “No one cares what you spy.” “We’re only forty-five minutes away,” Xaden says, irritation lacing his words. “You can hold it.” “I can’t. I’m about to burst.” “Can you just try, Sawyer?” Violet asks placatingly. She places her hand on Xaden’s thigh, rubbing gently to calm him down. Unfortunately, her touch excites another part of his body. A part that she’s getting dangerously close to. He’s going to have to immediately whisk her away to a secluded area when they get to the beach. Or a public changing room, whichever is closer. “Then Ridoc has to take the cooler.” Sawyer shifts frantically, trying to slide the cooler across Rhiannon’s lap and onto Ridoc’s, but then they hit a bump and he starts to panic. “It’s pressing on my bladder.” “Seriously, guys?” Ridoc’s voice is incredulous as he looks around the car. “No one has a guess for something silver.” “It’s Violet’s fucking hair!” Xaden shouts. “It’s obviously her hair. What the fuck else would it be?” Gods, Ridoc was so fucking annoying. Xaden could strangle him. “Jeez, you don’t have to be so mean about it.” Ridoc goes back to looking out his window. “I’ll think of a harder one this time.” “Please don’t,” Xaden and Sawyer groan simultaneously. Ridoc kicks Xaden’s seat in response. “How about we play the silent game instead,” Violet suggests. “This is so entertaining,” Rhiannon cackles. “I’m so glad you invited us to tag along, Xaden.” There’s a high-pitched sob from the back right, and Xaden looks up to see Sawyer’s face turning red. A look of horror spreads across the man’s features. “Pull over. Right now.”

#xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #ridoc gamlyn #sawyer henrick #rhiannon matthias #empyrean drabbles #empyrean au #fluff #iron squad fluff #I'm So Sorry Sawyer #empyrean fanfic

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dirtysvthoughts · 1 year

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Hey! Can I request a Woozi and wall sex or gym sex? Idk, whichever you prefer. But, god, imagine him railing you with him wearing that black shirt in that one vlive. Oh, I would pass out!!!

a/n: switching it up from private dancer for a bit and answering some asks in my drafts! the jihoon rot has been so fucking real… it’s unfair. so i decided to be a menace and combine it to where he rails you up against the wall at a gym 😏 hope y’all enjoy! <3

word count: 958

tags/warnings: female! reader, boyfriend!/gym junkie! jihoon, semi-public sex, railing, soft-ish dom! jihoon, mutual turn-ons, making out, pet names (baby, babe), some dirty talk, cute lil relationship banter for .002 seconds, a full proofread will be done later!

you’re trying to focus. you really are.

but with your boyfriend grunting trying to complete his third set of 20 reps with his weights, your core was aching for jihoon to just stop his workout and put his hands all over you.

you turn up the volume on your airpods, hoping it would drain out jihoon’s voice and the rest of thr outside noise. slowly dropping to your knees on your yoga mat, you get ready to start doing some ab work.

getting back into your own zone, you don’t even realize that jihoon has the same mindset as you. the pastel blue two-piece set you decided to don was driving him insane. the bra top makes your boobs sinfully pop out, and the tiny shorts accentuate every beautiful curve on your lower body. and when you bent over to get your water bottle or to do a set? god, he felt so dirty trying to catch a peek, but why did it feel so good?

“19, 20,” jihoon counts in his head, letting out a loud sigh of relief now that he had finished his last reps. he turns his attention and his body toward you, smirking at how you now transitioned into doing some stretches, working on your downward dog. he walks toward you and when he is fully behind you, jihoon grabs your hips and you look up in the mirror, relaxing when you realized it was your boyfriend.

“hoon, you scared me for a sec,” you playfully roll eyes. “you’re done already? we’re only 20 minutes in babe, i thought we were gonna stay for an hour..” you move around so that you sit on your mat, looking up at jihoon questioningly.

“oh we are, i just wanna do something else first,” he kneels down to meet you, crawling toward you to meet your lips, holding you by the back of your neck.

you return the vigor in his kiss, moving forward to push into him, causing him to fall back onto the mat. you maneuver on top of him, your thigh in between his crotch, kissing your way down his neck. one of your hands roam his black shirt, feeling his chest up. you whimper and your pussy clenches, feeling his detailed ab muscles.

jihoon grabs your ass, palming your cheeks. he sits up as he continues to touch you, pulling you closer by your legs. as he moves his fingers to your crotch, he scoffs at the wet spot he can feel.

“wet already and all we’ve done is makeout on the gym floor.. you dirty dirty girl,” he kisses you deeply and when you separate, you swear the wind is knocked out of you.

“damn it, don’t tease me jihoon,” you whine, needy for him to just put himself inside you. “you’ve already riled me up, just fuck me.”

your words go straight to his core, and without another word, he helps the both of you help and walks you backward until you hit the wall, slightly wincing at the coolness hitting your warm body.

jihoon rushes to take off your clothes, hiking your bra top over your head, followed by your shorts, revealing the lacy black piece underneath.

“lace? for a workout?” he chuckles as he turns you around, your chest now pressed against the surface.

“shut up, i can be sexy and sporty,” you groan, and it quickly becomes drawn out when you feel his tip enter you from behind.

“what the fuck, hoon- how did you undress so fast?”

“hmph, don’t worry about me - worry about keeping your voice down before the both of us get caught. don’t make me have to stuff anything in that slutty lil mouth cause you can’t listen.”

you try to protest, but he pushes in even more, your mouth opening wider. your voice box wants to get louder, but your self control wins. the fear of getting caught is enticing, but you knew jihoon liked this gym, so you bite down on your lip - hard enough to draw blood.

you think you’re ready for the first thrust, but your body convulses when he moves, hands pushing deeper into the wall, your breaths becoming pants. you curse under your breath as he continues thrusting, speeding up the pace.

“shit, shit - jihoon, more, please!” you quietly beg as he smacks your ass, wincing at the stinging. your moans begin to get more pornographic and louder, chanting jihoon’s name like it was the only word you knew.

“o-oh, oh my g-god, fuck, jihoon, too much- t-too m-much! i’m gonna cum, i wanna c-cum, please let me cum! wanna drip down your thighs..”

he whispers in your ear, voice dropping down an octave and it sends you over the edge, “then do it, fucking cum all over my cock baby, get messy,”’ he bites down on your earlobe, smiling against your skin.

you moan loud enough for jihoon to hear, but quiet enough to not fill up the empty space. you try to regulate your breathing, but your high overtakes you. your body tries to slump down the wall, but jihoon’s quickly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for one more kiss. when you separate, you lean into his shoulder, humming to yourself, fingers running up his naked waist.

“how ya feelin?” he asks as you look up at him.

“hmm, i feel good,” you say smiling, looking up at him. “whaddaya wanna do, we still have half our time left. my place or yours?”

“since you did such a good job for me, we can go back to my place. get things your babe, you can be as loud as you want when i’m fucking you on my bed.”

#kpop smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #lee jihoon #woozi #woozi smut #jihoon smut #woozi imagines #jihoon imagines

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honeybadger-has-a-grimoire · 8 days

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An Introduction to Arthurian Paganism

Hey, everyone! I’m back with another practice-related post. This time, we’re talking about Arthurian Paganism.

It should be noted that I am still researching and learning about the Arthurian Canon, and Tumblr’s #Arthuriana tag has been, unironically, extremely helpful. They have massive blog posts with links to copies of books that have been published and translated, abridged or unabridged, compilations and separate short stories, etc. which are becoming quite useful to me in my research. And for that, to the people who post and follow the Arthuriana tags, I say thank you. Your work—be it memes, academic compilations of sources, or artwork—has made this not only easier, but very fun.

With that out of the way, let’s talk about the Arthurian Pantheon, starting with what it exactly is at this point in my research and spirituality.

What is Arthurian Paganism and How did I get here?

The what and the how are where I want to start. Simply put, I think this is the easiest thing to understand before we go down the rabbit hole of me assigning correspondences, working with festivals, etc.

Plus, anyone, especially in the Western World, has some vague understanding of what the King Arthur story is about. This gives us some equal playing field for a good understanding of the jumping off point of my spiritual path with the Arthurian Pantheon.

So to begin, the Arthurian Pantheon is the characters of King Arthur Stories being honored as deities.

I stumbled across this accidentally when I was trying to worship the Lord and Lady of the Land. A lot of how envisioned these deities came across as King Arthur and Lady Morgan Le Fay—and I was quite intrigued and confused. I had done some honoring of Morgan Le Fay in the past, but not much, and yet could not shake the feeling that there was something here for me to explore.

And as a child, I was always in love with the King Arthur stories and retellings I came across.

It took me a few months to fully embrace, but, by the time Lunasdagh arrived, I began considering in earnest how to honor King Arthur and Lady Morgan within their respective mythos.

King Arthur Pendragon is a mythic King of Britain. While there’s no real historical evidence that states he was a real person, to my knowledge at time of writing, we can trace his story specifically back to Wales as a folk hero in the Mabinogion. Here Arthur is usually portrayed as a vaguely supernatural entity who helps other travelers on their quests.

One such notable one is of Arthur helping his cousin win the hand of a giantess in marriage, if I remember correctly.

His time as a Welsh folk hero is discussed, briefly, in the Mythillogical podcast’s episode on YouTube. The link can be found here.

This version of Arthur is quite different from what he will become, as he is a wanderer and has a lot more agency in these tales. King Arthur tends to lose a bit of focus and agency over the overarching story of Camelot as the Canon grows both in characters and gets codified over time.

This loss of agency or lack of focus, whichever you prefer to call it, reminds me quite a bit of the human life cycle. Arthur, as people add on to his legends starting with Geoffrey of Monmouth and his Welsh Counterparts going all the way up to the modern day, goes through the cycle of birth, childhood, young adulthood, adulthood, elder, death, and finally rebirth. He represents a very human experience—from making mistakes (sleeping with his sister Morgause and in a fit of regret and anger at what he did goes to try and drown every child born on May Day in order to not eventually die at the child’s hand) to just trying to be a genuinely good man and king (his attempts at trying to persuade his Knights and Lords to have Mercy on Queen Guinevere when she was falsely accused of murder and rightfully accused of adultery).

King Arthur is very human and that is necessary for a chief god of a pantheon that I believe in, because I could never get behind a perfect god or a supposed son of god who is meant to share a human experience to understand us better but yet simultaneously is meant to be perfect.

So King Arthur became a comfort as a chief god, even if I haven’t really worked with him yet.

I do say good morning to him every morning though, because I associate King Arthur with the sun.

I mainly got here through Lady Morgan Le Fay, though. She reached out to me about a year ago through a vision I had while working at my part time job. I saw myself following her through mists in an indigo cloak with silver embroidery. So I began to honor her the best I could—I even picked up the Mists of Avalon, and read it for a while, to get her perspective on Arthurian Canon. Then, as the stress of finding a full time job and then having two jobs all began to bubble up, I fell off.

(Which I will get back to the novel eventually. I’m going to be reading a lot of Arthurian books and romances for the foreseeable future.)

Recently, through the attempt at honoring the Lord and Lady of the Land, I found my way back to Lady Morgan. When I reach out to a goddess in divination, I ask for her. When I do my kitchen witchcraft, I do it in her name. When I think of making something for my craft, I think of making it for her.

I wanted to do this seriously and the best I can.

Doing so led to me realizing that it’s not just King Arthur and Lady Morgan who gained spiritual/magickal/etc. independent being status through the centuries of rewriting, retelling, and rediscovering the Arthurian tradition again and again. They all were alive in their own way. Entities in their own rights with their own domains and their own things to teach us, the characters of King Arthur’s stories are alive.

And I had that realization relatively recently. Just a bit before my “Sir Gawain Type of Day” post.

So that’s how I got here.

Now let’s talk about my recent experiences.

My Experiences with the Pantheon:

This section will be quite short as my experiences aren’t much in the grand scheme of things—and a few are a bit personal. The findings are rather few as of right now, but I am starting out and the Arthurian Pantheon as a whole requested that I focus on the research aspect first as a way to honor them before I do anything big like celebrate Sabbats and stuff.

Lady Morgan also reiterated this fact with me last week, and reminded me that I do need to practice patience with myself.

And I’m trying, promise.

For my experiences with the pantheon, I’ve mainly interacted with Lady Morgan. She helped me pass my excel certification exam which allowed me to get my current full time position, and I asked that of her because I thought I’d be quitting my part time job once I got a full time position. I would have more time for the craft, which I promised her that I would make. However, the current state of the economy, and the cost of living where I live specifically, required me to work both jobs in order to pay bills and save up for an apartment.

So, I never really kept up my end of the deal—despite trying to for a while.

Lady Morgan’s energy never seems to give much away about her emotions. I’ve only ever felt an ancient patience and kindness with her. Much like a dusty old library on a misty spring morning, Lady Morgan’s energy is that of learning the art of patience and being okay with waiting—leading you down the path at your own pace.

Her energy also is heavily linked to the moon, mists, and rainstorms from what I’ve found.

The moon is something that she always radiated to me. Lady Morgan guides the way through the night, providing light and guidance through moonlight and stars. The moon tends to show its phase in a very different way if I’ve just been speaking to Lady Morgan earlier that evening and the stars seem much brighter despite the light pollution.

In my limited dealings with Lady Morgan, I’ve also found that, if I did something she was particularly proud of, a morning mist greeted me the next day. I feel the most comfortable in the mists, especially in the morning, so I always appreciate that little treat.

Lord, or more accurately, King Arthur has a different energy that I am sometimes able to connect to in the mornings.

King Arthur’s energy to me is very much the sun. It’s bright and welcoming and even protective to an extent. He’s constant, strong, and reliable. I also associate him with stags, not only because of the whole White Stag search that may or may not have ruined his wedding to Queen Guinevere (depending on the version you’re reading), but also because deer are quite common where I live. Does are definitely more common than stags, yes, but the few times I see a Stag I just immediately think it’s King Arthur.

I think this association began with the Mists of Avalon. Especially when there’s a whole trial by deer that Arthur needs to go through in order to be accepted by the Tribes and it results in his son with Morgaine, Mordred.

Beyond that association, stags tend to be connected to nobility and dependability in our modern media symbolism shorthand, with the most prominent example coming to mind being Elijah Mikaelson from the Vampire Diaries extended universe. Elijah’s nicknamed the Noble Stag for being a Mikaelson the people can trust to keep his word to the letter. He usually acts as the consciousness of his brother, Klaus, and tries to put family above all else.

In my mind, King Arthur is much the same. His energy is that of a stag—a man who keeps his word, puts the people he loves before himself, and is a just king.

And, finally, I felt Sir Gawain’s energy once. I wrote a blog about it, just a small musing really. But to me Gawain’s energy is that of liminal tidings. His energy is soft and comforting as the wheel of the year turns and we shift from one season to the next. At Yuletide/Winter Solstice, he deals the blow to the Green Knight—which rings in the warmer half of the year. And at Litha/Summer Solstice, he faces the Green Knight once more to bring in the colder half of the year.

Possibly.

I think this may change as Sir Gawain is definitely a god of the seasons and their shifts, but I can’t tell if it’s Sir Gawain who rings in the different parts of the year, or if it’s King Arthur, or someone else I have yet to interact with, or no one in the pantheon at all.

But, for now, I will say it’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight that ring in the colder and warmer halves of the year.

But that is the extent of my experiences with the Arthurian Pantheon thus far. I am reading up on them still, as a part of my research and way to honor them.

My Recent Findings on the Pantheon:

Through my research, as I currently read “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” as translated by Jessie Weston, I have found that King Arthur likes to hear stories of great feats from his knights and/or songs, or see a good game before he eats a feast, so that will be implemented during times I offer some food up to him. He also refuses to eat until everyone at court is sitting and served when hosting a grand feast, so if I invite people over I will try and do the same. King Arthur and The Knights of the Round Table love to have feasts with dried meats and honey wine ( AKA mead ).

When I get my apartment, I will practice making honey wine for libations to the King and his Knights.

My time browsing the Arthuriana tag on Tumblr, and the abridged version of Le Morte d'Arthur read by Derek Jacobi, indicated that Sir Gawain loves apples. So when I honor Sir Gawain specifically, I’ll see if I can make apples ready for the occasion.

The abridged version of Le Morte d’Arthur previously mentioned also pointed two days that I specifically took note of: Arthur’s birthday, being around December 24th, and Arthur’s king making which was on Candlemas, February 2nd. So I will definitely be celebrating Candlemas, and King Arthur’s birthday, which falls during Yuletide.

The Mists of Avalon audiobook that I’m listening to on Spotify indicates that Lady Morgan is knowledgeable in herb lore and is gifted with the Sight. So any form of herbalism and divination could be considered devotional acts to Lady Morgan. Or working with the Fair Folk, as in that telling of Arthurian canon has Lady Morgan descended from the Fae Folk of the British Isles.

And that’s all I have at the moment research wise. I haven’t had time to sit down and finish “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” in order to move on to the next pieces of Arthuriana on the docket.

Conclusion:

As you can see, I don’t have much in the way of research or experiences yet. Really, this Introduction to the Arthurian Pantheon is just me trying to get my thoughts and early findings down on paper so I can continue forward.

I really can’t wait to learn about and from this very large and very diverse pantheon.

I’m not even sure if I’ll get to everyone—or if this counts as Celtic or Pop Culture paganism! I tag it as Celtic since these stories tend to be leaning more Celtic in nature and its birth in the British Isles.

But I hope you guys enjoyed this introduction into the pantheon and my experiences with it! I’ll make a more comprehensive and scholarly introduction when I have more time, knowledge, and experience under my belt with the pantheon if necessary. For now though, this is where I end the introduction post.

Until next time!

#arthurian paganism #deity #arthuriana #witchy tumblr #celtic paganism #chaos witch #deity worship #introduction #introduction to pantheon post #pop culture paganism #not sure if it counts as pop culture paganism or Celtic paganism #so I tagged them both #my bad guys #it’s super long #sorry #this post is 2425 words long

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dirty-bosmer · 11 months

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @skyrim-forever @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @kookaburra1701 @mareenavee Thank you <3

Tagging: @gilgamish @atypicalacademic @elavoria @dumpsterhipster @wispstalk @miraakulous-cloud-district @ladytanithia @viss-and-pinegar @nuwanders @sylvienerevarine @paraparadigm @rainpebble3 @inkysqueed @throughtrialbyfire @orfeoarte @weirdisme @fenverflymm (<- forever keeping up with ur usernames lol) and whoever else has something to share this week :D

Back on my Slither and Writhe brainrot. A snip from chapter 5.

An hour or so later (who could tell, really), Sylawen returned to the large indent in the ground she’d come to claim as her bed. She wondered if the ransom letter had ever made it to her parents, if they were gathered around the hearth having sent off the money as demanded, praying to their disparate gods for her safe return. And if it hadn’t? Surely by now they’d know she hadn’t made it to Whiterun. Yes, of course. Surely. With a groan Sylawen curled inward, reverting to a primordial grub-state, hoping some pale, filmy membrane would sprout outward from her spine to enclose her, and she prayed to whichever of her parents’ gods would listen that when she woke up, either the world would be sparkly and brand new or she would. “... done wasting all my time with this, Thrynn,” came Garthek’s voice from the floor above. “No word yet, and it’s been weeks. I ain’t waiting around to hear back about this damn rendezvous.” “C’mon, it’s not been so long. Not sure if you’ve bothered looking at a map, but Falkreath is several thousand miles away from—” There was a thud and a stumble, the sound of wood scraping against wood. Someone had been shoved against a chair. “Don’t smart mouth me, boy,” Garthek hissed. “Now, I’ve wasted too much damn time on this plan of yours, and for all we know, her family’s sending mercs instead of money. We need to get back to the Pale, been south for too long with nothing to show for it, and now the damned Jarl is hounding me for tribute if we want to keep working in his hold. Says he needs a cut, and it’s sure as all hells’ ain’t coming out of my pocket.” “I know it’s taking longer than expected,” Thrynn said, his voice strained, “but her family’s good for the money.” “That’s what she told you? Shit, I’d tell you my papi was good to lick your ass if I thought it would keep me alive a day longer.” “Look, it’s slim pickings here. Few caravans come through the pass this near to winter, and scouts say the Legion’s been gathering near Helgen, so we’re pretty much limited to—” “Nah, we ain’t limited to shit. We’re going north, Thrynn, back to the camp, and we’re not bringing your little elf bitch with us, so get rid of her.” “Garthek—” But Garthek didn’t reply and as his heavy footsteps stomped out of the room to an inaudible distance away, Sylawen realized Thrynn was left alone upstairs, alone with his orders and his bone-handled knife. She bolted up. From above came the sharp creeak, creeak, creeeaak of the floorboards and his steps moving closer to the basement hatch. He wouldn’t. She sunk her hands into the dirt beneath her as if to find a root buried nearby, something to grasp onto, to ground her. He wouldn’t. He can’t. Creeak, creeak, creeeaak. There he was, right outside the hatch now, and she could hear the rattling of the iron rung as he grasped it to lift. The rusted hinge croaked out its late lamplight dirge because for all it knew, this was the last time it would be opened, and once it shut again, it would remain forever closed.

For whatever reason the fact that Thrynn had a history as a bandit has remained embedded in my brain, and if there's anything I know about writing fic, it's that I have to cram in all the random NPCs I can.

#wip wednesday #skyrim fic #slither and writhe #Sonny writes

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flufftober · 1 year

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🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our third annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃

We’re so excited to be back and to once again have you here!

As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 and for that to happen, we not only have 31 prompts for you, no; we also have something special this year...

Prompt Extras

Last year's Prompt Substitutes were very well-loved and a lot of you used them to replace some prompts from the original list. You're more than welcome to do this again if there's a prompt that doesn't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.

Once again, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer five scenario prompts.

If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself - you can also mix them all together!

So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚

Below the cut you'll find all our rules, posting info, all the prompts in writing, as well as some explanation for prompts we feel might need clarification. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask 🥰

We hope you like these prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. See further down for clarification.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gifsets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…)

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉

You can start writing and/or arting as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace prompts from the original list with either or all of our prompt extras; you can also mix them with the original prompts or create for them in addition to the 31 original prompts, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts as long as it’s separated into chapters and the respective chapter/work is posted on the given day.

You do not have to stick to one ship or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Since this has often been asked in previous years, please let us clarify the no inc*st or p*dophilia rule:

No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship.

No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It was mostly aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that got complicated over time, the rule is now this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalaties of the world/society/times your characters live in.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #flufftober2023

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also add @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2023 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection flufftober2023 or flufftober_2023 (yes, we've once again claimed both)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts (and explanations)

1. “I’ve got you”

2. Family, Friends, Loved Ones

3. “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”

4. Cinderella Moment (the "ugly duckling" gets their moment to shine)

5. x + 1 (can be a classic "5+1 things" [or any number you want] creation or literally a plus one for an event or really anything else you can think of)

6. Corn Maze

7. Porch Swing

8. Rainy Day

9. (...) at first sight (think "love at first sight", "enemies at first sight"...)

10. Love of my Life (even this does not have to be romantic 😉)

11. Sweet Tooth

12. Fire & Ice

13. Wrong (...) (think "wrong number", "wrong train", "wrong person"...)

14. “I hate it” - “No, you don't”

15. Emergency, Confession, Adventure

16. Singing one another to sleep

17. Encouraging someone to achieve a goal

18. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

19. Keeping someone safe

20. Pumpkin

21. Swoon

22. Picking (think "picking flowers", "picking up someone", "picking out a dress", "picking a song for the wedding"...)

23. Trinket

24. [melting emoji] (does anyone even know what this emoji stands for? No? We neither but we would love for you to get creative with it 😉 but also, think "melting in the heat", "melting from embarrassment"... also, I would've loved to add it here but tumblr doesn't have this emoji yet)

25. Nook

26. Fireplace

27. Outdoor Event (think "hiking tour", "concert", "picnic"...)

28. Soothing Touch

29. “Hey, wake up!”

30. Self-Worth / Self-Love

31. Dreams Do Come True

Prompt Extras

Last Year's Favorites

Alt 1: Hot Chocolate

Alt 2: “You’ve told your parents?”

Alt 3: Wearing Each Other’s Clothes

Alt 4: Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights

Alt 5: “Oh no, you’re a Morning Person!”

Scenarios

Alt 6: Reverse all the Roles

Alt 7: Create a Fairytale Retelling

Alt 8: Give your character a new occupation

Alt 9: Create a crossover of two or more fandoms

Alt 10: Have your characters share the last table at a café

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theraven-gil-lyn · 2 years

Photo

#Ranger Gathering 2023 is coming this June!

What is this?

Our very own Ranger Gathering is an event running during June. Every day has its own prompt which you’re free to respond to in whichever way possible, relating to Ranger’s Apprentice, The Early Years, The Royal Ranger and/or Brotherband.

Check out last year’s stuff here!

How does it work?

The prompts are being released early for those who wish to begin chipping away at some of them before June comes around. This is mostly for those who want to do as many as possible and would like to avoid burnout or may be busy in June, but either way, no one is obliged to do every or any prompt. We’re just here to have fun!

This prompt challenge is not just about making fanart or fanfic, however. You can post about whatever has been inspired by the prompt. This could be playlists, moodboards, memes, analysis, quotes, literally anything you have your heart set on. You are also free to talk about your headcanons, AUs and OCs if you want to.

If you wish to take part, tag your post with #ranger gathering 2023 so we can all find it! You may also choose to post on other platforms, just know that it might not be as monitored as here.

Other than that, there’s no real rules. You can do as many or as little of the prompts as you want. You can post wips or polished works, short or long word counts, lil doodles :’)) and rendered art, one song or a playlist etc.

I would just urge you to know your limits and your workflow and work accordingly. Burnout is brutal and pumping stuff out is not gonna be worth it. In the case of you really want to finish your work, you can just do it later it’s 100% okay 💖🍵

2023 links

• masterpost - i refer to this as the masterpost as it includes the prompts and rules. i write it here for your reference • #ranger gathering 2023 - this is where you will find everyone’s posts • AO3 (2023) - collection for this year’s fics if you so wish to use • AO3 (all) - parent collection

Prompts in text:

01. camp 02. mystery 03. sneak 04. delight 05. complicated

06. lead 07. disguise 08. war 09. bond 10. scheme

11. risk 12. capture 13. revolt 14. expert 15. warning

16. friend 17. speech 18. prowess 19. follow 20. change

21. nurture 22. defend 23. knowledge 24. fail 25. cozy

26. genius 27. struggle 28. love 29. search 30. home

#ranger gathering 2023 masterpost #ranger gathering 2023 #john flanagan #ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice #the royal ranger #the early years #brotherband #oak.tree

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all-the-things-2020 · 3 months

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Late Night Talking - Chapter Twenty

Summary: The wedding.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4350+

Notes: It’s bittersweet to say goodbye to Dieter and Emily, but maybe there will be some one shots down the road. For now, they’ve reached the end of their romantic journey.

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites @weho2kcmo

Time flew by. Before I knew it, the wedding was upon us. We’d rented a block of rooms at a hotel in Santa Barbara for everyone coming in from out of town: Sam and her family, Freddy and his, Dieter’s dad and his wife, Aunt Helen and Uncle Jeremiah. Everyone else would drive to the house in Malibu where the wedding was being held.

”You need to calm down,” Dieter told me the night before everyone was due to arrive. “Oladele has triple checked all the travel arrangements and she’ll be at the hotel to help them all check in. You don’t have to do a thing except breathe.”

”I know,” I said, sitting on the floor of the bedroom surrounded by a pile of shoes and jewelry, staring up at the long, flowing cotton dress that hung on the back of the door. It was embroidered with silver flowers and had been fitted precisely to my body.

Dieter sat down beside me. “Whichever shoes you wear, whatever jewelry you wear, you’re going to look amazing,” he said softly. “You look like a fairy princess in that dress.”

“I know,” I said again. The dress was a vision, just fancy enough to be a wedding dress but casual enough for a day at the beach. Dieter had a matching outfit of loose fitting white pants and shirt. We would look beautiful next to each other.

”So stop worrying and just pick what feels right on the day,” he said. “Take all this stuff with you to the hotel and let Sam and Leila help you decide.” He kissed my ear. “It’s going to be fine.”

”I don’t want fine, I want perfect,” I said. “That’s the problem.” I leaned into him. “I am trying my best not to become a bridezilla but I can see why women get like that. We only get one chance to get it right.”

”Think of it as a live performance,” he said. “You prepare and rehearse and then once you’re onstage, you have to go with the flow. You never get the same performance twice, even if nothing goes wrong. It depends on the vibe of the audience, the temperature of the room … there are so many variables you can’t control. So just memorize your lines and get out there and do it. Then walk away. Off to the next thing.”

”But what if I mess up? What if I trip on my hem or one of us drops a ring or a seagull flies over and craps on us?” I had already envisioned a million disastrous scenarios that could ruin the wedding.

”Then we laugh and carry on and have a great story to tell,” he said. “It’s just our friends and family. They already know we’re idiots.”

********************************************************

Aunt Helen and Uncle Jeremiah were the last to arrive at the hotel. Dieter and I had already checked in when they got there. “They insisted on riding the airport shuttle,” Oladele told me over the phone. “I had a private car ready but your aunt insisted it was ‘too expensive.’”

”That sounds about right,” I replied. “Tell them we’ll be downstairs in a few minutes.”

”They really cut it close,” Dieter said, glancing at his watch. “The rehearsal dinner starts in half an hour.”

“Technically we don’t need them for the rehearsal part,” I reminded him. “They can go up and unpack and then join us all for dinner.” We had a conference room booked for a quick rehearsal with the justice of the peace, followed by a private dinner for all the family members.

We were in Dieter’s room for the moment, since Oladele still had some things for the wedding to put in my room. I’d offered her extra pay for being a de facto wedding planner, but she’d politely declined. “I am your assistant, Emily. This is my job,” she’d said. “Besides, this is much more fun than my sister’s wedding in Lagos. If this was a Nigerian wedding, I would charge you six times my usual pay and a bonus on top.”

I took one last glance in the mirror to make sure my dress and hair looked okay. I was wearing a wrap dress that showed a bit too much cleavage if I didn’t get the safety pin in the right place, and my hair was reacting to the saltier beach air by frizzing up. I hoped the stylist could turn that frizz into fashionably beachy waves in the morning.

We went downstairs to find Aunt Helen trying to insist they didn’t need a bellhop to ptake the luggage up to the room. “Jerry and I are perfectly capable of carrying two suitcases,” she was telling Oladele.

”I know that,” Oladele said patiently, “but the hotel provides the service for the convenience of its guests.”

”Let him take the bags up, Aunt Helen,” I said, stepping in to give her a hug. “This way you and Uncle Jeremiah can spend more time with us tonight. Tomorrow is going to be so busy.” I looked her in the eye. “I’m glad you could make it.”

”We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It had been a rough few months for her. In March, Sarah had developed preeclampsia and had to have an emergency cesarean. She’d nearly died and the baby had been in NICU for a while. To top it all off, it was another girl and Sarah had fallen into postpartum depression, wanting nothing to do with her latest “failure.” Aunt Helen had stepped in to help with the girls, while Sarah’s husband concentrated on getting her better.

”Just relax and enjoy yourself,” I told her quietly. “Everything’s taken care of. You deserve it.”

”Listen to her,” Uncle Jeremiah said. “You’ve been doing too much.” He laid his hand against her back and I realized for the first time that despite his frosty exterior, he really did love her.

Dieter had hung back a bit, but now he jumped in. “So let’s head to the conference room,” he said. “We’ve got a little play to rehearse.”

**********************************************************

As we walked into the conference room, I felt Dieter stiffen beside me. “What?” I asked. He nodded toward Freddy’s family, where an older man and woman were talking to the kids. I took Dieter’s hand and marched him right over there.

“Uncle Deet!” Derek cried. “Grandpa and Grandma are here!”

“Relax your jaw,” I whispered, giving Dieter a little jab with my elbow. He worked his jaw from side to side and took a deep breath.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, sounding almost, but not quite, convincingly casual.

”Dieter.” Josef Bravo was an older version of Dieter and Freddy, with more lines on his face and a bit less hair. “It’s good to see you, son.”

Dieter smiled tightly and introduced us. “Welcome to the family, Emily,” Josef said. He flicked a look at Dieter before turning to the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Victoria.”

”Vicki, please,” she said. She was a bit taller than me, with hair that had once been blonde but was transitioning to silver. Not too much makeup, just enough jewelry. She wasn’t plain but she wasn’t fighting aging, either. “Victoria is way too stuffy.”

We shook hands and there was an awkward silence as we all looked at Dieter, who was suddenly fascinated by the carpet. We were saved by Oladele, who entered the room and clapped her hands twice.

”Everyone,” she said. “I need Dieter, Emily, Sam, and Freddy over here for the rehearsal. It will be quick. Then we can eat. Please, everyone, take your seats.”

There were a few rows of folding chairs set up with an aisle down the middle. Oladele directed us, playing the part of the justice of the peace. It felt more like an army drill than a wedding rehearsal.

”Dieter and Freddy, you are first down the aisle. Stand there. Now Emily and Sam. Good. Stand there. Now Sam and Freddy step back, Emily and Dieter step forward. Good. The justice will say a few words, then Dieter says his vows, then Emily says hers, the justice asks ‘Do you take’, Dieter says ‘I do,” Repeat for Emily. Justice pronounces you married. You kiss. Then back down the aisle. Sam and Freddy, you follow. Then everyone else can rise and follow to the reception area. And … that’s it. Let’s eat!” She clapped her hands again and headed for the long table the hotel staff had set up.

“She wouldn’t last a day in Hollywood,” Dieter quipped as we walked toward the table. “On time and under budget. No one would be able to believe it. Heads would explode.”

Dinner was a small buffet. Everyone was tired and there were kids, so keeping things simple and easy was the most important factor. Unfortunately, Oladele had me at one end of the table and Dieter at the other, so we were limited to eye contact and smiles for the duration. Sam was seated on my right and Aunt Helen on my left, so I tried to carry on two completely different conversations at once. By the end of the meal, my neck was sore from swiveling back and forth.

”Okay,” Sam said as we were getting up from the table. “Time for the bachelorette party!”

That was not on my agenda, and I gave her a funny look. “Well,” she said, “more like ‘hanging out with the maid of honor in your hotel room for a couple of hours’ but ‘bachelorette party’ sounds more festive, doesn’t it?”

”You scared me for a moment.” I glanced at Aunt Helen.

“Chickie, I would never do that to you,” Sam said. “Now let’s ditch the men and the kids!”

Leila joined us. “Vicki offered to keep an eye on the kids,” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “Dieter and Freddy and their dad are going to have a mini bachelor party.”

”Is that a good idea? I mean, Dieter and Josef …”

Leila patted my arm. “Freddy has it covered,” she said. “They’re going to have a couple of drinks — non alcoholic, of course — and play cards. It’ll be fine.”

I looked across the room, where Dieter was standing next to Freddy and Josef. He winked at me and mouthed, “Have fun.” I relaxed. He was going to be okay.

”Okay, then ladies,” I said. “Let’s go have a sensible period of recreation before turning in early. We have a big day tomorrow!”

Sam shook her head. “How you landed a movie star, I’ll never know.”

”I know,” Leila said. “It’s because he’s a dork. Underneath the sophisticated party-boy image, Deet has always been a big goofy kid. I got the mature one.”

My room was filled with supplies for the morning: the dress, makeup, my shoes and jewelry … everything except the flowers, which would be delivered straight to the beach house. The three of us flopped onto the bed.

”Are you nervous?” Sam asked.

”Kind of,” I admitted. “I just don’t want anything to go spectacularly wrong.”

”Like what?” Leila asked.

”Like Dieter and his dad getting into an argument, or me tripping on my dress and falling down.” I sat up and gestured at the shoes arranged neatly on the floor. “I need a bit of a heel or the dress is too long, but we’re walking on sand so it can’t be too high. And do I wear an open sandal type or a pump? Life was a lot easier when I only owned three pairs of shoes.” I’d collected more fancy shoes in the last year with Dieter than in my entire previous life. Most of them had been chosen for outfits I’d worn at events and I’d only worn them once.

”I say you go barefoot and just hold the hem of your dress up,” Sam said. “Solves all the problems and you’ll feel like a lady out of an historical novel, crossing the moors while trying not to muddy your petticoats.”

”If I go barefoot, then Dieter will want to go barefoot, too,” I pointed out. “And I told him he can’t wear his Crocs, either. So I have to wear shoes.” I sighed. “And then once I’ve chosen the shoes, I have to make sure my earrings and necklace will go with them.”

The only expensive jewelry I owned was the engagement ring itself, and the gold wedding bands that were still in Oladele’s keeping until she gave them to Freddy to hold during the ceremony. The rest of my stuff was costume jewelry, although I’d worn some real stuff on loan a few times. It always made me nervous.

“I think these will go with anything,” Leila said, handing me a small box. I opened it to see two glittering diamond earrings. “You need something borrowed, and those were my mother’s. She wore them at her wedding, and I wore them at mine. And so will Sasha, if she chooses to get married.”

”Thank you.” I couldn’t say much more than that without bursting into tears.

“Those are borrowed and old, so I’m in charge of blue and new,” Sam said. She handed me a small bag. Inside was a sapphire blue silk garter. “I know it’s cheesy and you aren’t going to do the whole tossing the garter shtick, but you can wear it under your dress and it’ll be a little secret.”

“Chickie, I love it,” I said. “Both of you … you are amazing.”

We hugged each other and then got down to the serious business of talking smack about our men.

*******************************************************

My alarm went off and for a moment I toyed with the idea of turning it off and rolling over to get more sleep. Sam and Leila hadn’t left until well after midnight and we’d broken into the minibar at one point. Then I remembered it was my wedding day and I was instantly fully awake.

A knock at the door precisely ten minutes after the alarm went off was Oladele with hot tea and croissants for breakfast. “Rise and shine,” she said, looking neat and tidy as usual. I ran a hand through my hair and tied the sash on my robe a little tighter.

We were soon joined by Sam, then Leila and Sasha, then Aunt Helen and finally Malinda, the stylist. I felt like a giant Barbie doll as everyone offered her opinion on my hair and makeup and accessories. Sam voted for a “sexy” aesthetic, while Aunt Helen lobbied hard for “demure.” In the end, Malinda ignored everyone and did her own thing, which landed almost smack in between the two extremes.

“Oh, chickie,” Sam said when Malinda finally stepped back. “You look beautiful.”

I walked over to the mirror and took my first real look at myself. My hair fell in gentle waves, threaded with a few pearls strung on silver wire. My eyes were subtly accentuated and the diamonds sparkled on my earlobes. “Whoa.”

”Whoa is right,” said Leila. “Dieter is going to cry when he sees you.”

”He will not,” I said, although I was pretty close to tears myself.

Sasha laughed. “Oh yeah, Uncle Deet is going to cry for sure. I better text Dad to make sure he has a handkerchief for him.”

Oladele clapped her hands. “Okay, ladies, let’s go get dressed ourselves. The cars will be here in one hour.”

Malinda packed up her things and the others hurried back to their rooms. All except Aunt Helen.

”You’d better go change,” I told her.

She waved her hand dismissively. “It won’t take me long. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

”Aunt Helen, I appreciate it but you don’t have to take care of me. Relax, enjoy the day.”

”Your mother would have sat with you,” she said. “I’m just filling in for her.” She took a deep breath. “My own wedding was in the temple. None of my family was allowed to be there. It was a sacred thing but I didn’t get what you and Jamie got to have.” She took my hand. “I know you don’t need ‘the talk’,” she said, “but I do have a bit of advice for you about being a wife.”

Here it comes, I thought. Be obedient, modest, yadda yadda yadda.

”The secret to a successful marriage is to always let him think it’s his idea,” she said. “A good man is easy to please. Let him think he’s getting his way most of the time, make sure he has his little comforts: favorite foods, let him control the TV remote, that sort of thing.”

”So basically treat him like a giant toddler,” I said, stifling a laugh. If only she knew!

”Pretty much,” she said. “I’ve been lucky. Jerry and I have our own spheres of influence, you might say. He goes to work, handles the finances, legal stuff. And I take care of all the house stuff, the family stuff. I know it seems antiquated to you, but it works for us. Figure out what works for you and Dieter, and then make him think it was all his idea in the first place.”

”I think we’ve got a pretty good handle on that,” I told her. We had already settled into a working routine with Dominic as far as the company went and I was finding my groove. I was a natural organizer and planner — not as skilled and unflappable as Oladele — but I could see the connections between things that others overlooked. I had the plans for the Dieter Bravo Foundation sketched out: arts programs for underfunded schools; after school programs focused on performing arts and related skills; career guidance for kids who wanted to follow their passions instead of just looking for “something that pays well.”

”Okay, then,” Aunt Helen said. “I’ll leave you alone now. Take the time to breathe, because once you leave this hotel room, the day is going to fly by.” She kissed my cheek and left. I took a deep breath. This was it. I was at the top of the incline, and the roller coaster ride of the rest of my life was about to begin. But for a moment — a precious moment — everything was still. Everything was quiet. And Dieter was waiting to join me for the plunge.

***************************************************

“You ready, chickie?” Sam was beautiful in her long blue sundress. She had the bouquet in her hand, a frothy thing of daisies and baby’s breath and cosmos and lavender that looked like a spring meadow.

I took one last look in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing a veil, but I had a crown of rosebuds and daisies that made me feel like a fairy princess. I made sure it was on straight, then transferred my engagement ring from my left hand to my right. “Ready,” I said.

We walked outside to the backyard of the beach house, which had a small gate that opened directly onto the beach. Everyone was already in place. An onshore breeze fluttered the cloth draped over the temporary bower where the justice of the peace, a stolid middle aged woman with a streak of purple in her hair, stood waiting with a smile on her face. And in front of her, just to one side, stood Dieter.

His shirt collar was unbuttoned, of course, and the salty air played with his curls that refused to be completely tamed. He looked both scared to death and ready to burst into laughter. I felt the same way inside.

I followed Sam down the aisle between the folding chairs where our friends and family sat. Dieter’s eyes were shimmering, and I fought back my own tears. I didn’t want to ruin my mascara for the photos.

The justice welcomed us and the ceremony began. It was real and surreal at the same time. I felt the breeze off the ocean, tasted the salt in the air, heard the gulls crying overhead, smelled the tang of kelp and fish and sunblock, but at the same time, it was like it was happening to someone else. I was an actor on a stage, lost in a dream. I didn’t want to wake up.

When it was time to exchange our vows, we turned to face each other and Dieter took both my hands in his.

He went first. “I’m going to cheat a little and quote Shakespeare. ‘Hear my soul speak: The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.’ That’s from The Tempest, and I can think of no better way to explain how I knew almost from the start that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. And then there’s Sonnet 116:

‘Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken’

My love for you will never falter, never waver. This is the vow I make to you, to be here always, through all the ups and downs that life can throw at us.”

His voice faltered a bit at the end, and then he smiled that radiant smile that always made my heart swell with happiness.

I had to pause and take a moment to compose myself so that I wouldn’t start crying before I spoke my own vow.

“I call your Shakespeare and raise you Pablo Neruda,” I said. He laughed quietly. “‘But I love your feet because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.’ You found me, and I found you, against all the odds. It was mere chance that we were in the same bookshop at the same time and in that moment of chance, our lives were forever changed. And now I don’t know what I would do without you. As Neruda said, ‘Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter.’ I want to always have your laughter, your tears, your deepest conversations and your silliest flights of fancy. I vow to be always by your side, no matter what, in all things, serious and silly, whatever comes our way.”

Now there were tears standing in his eyes, too, so I didn’t feel quite so bad. The justice of the peace asked us to bring out the rings, which Dieter took from Freddy. We said our “I do”s and exchanged rings. Dieter’s hands were shaking a bit as he slid my ring onto my finger, and mine weren’t exactly still as I slid his ring onto his finger. The justice of the peace pronounced us husband and wife and just like that, we were married.

”Great performance,” Dieter whispered as he leaned in to kiss me. His lips were gentle and sweet.

“I had the perfect scene partner,” I replied. Then we turned toward our guests and led the march back up the aisle to the backyard, where the party was ready to start.

**********************************************

The reception was laid back. There was music from someone’s phone, hooked up to the Bluetooth speakers that dotted the backyard, but no real DJ. There was a buffet of appetizers and little sandwiches and other finger foods, so there was no seating plan. Dieter and I had a small table to ourselves, but everyone else sat where they pleased, danced when they pleased, and ate as they pleased.

At one point, Freddy did stand up and offer a toast. We all raised our glasses of champagne or sparkling cider as he said, “To my brother and my new sister in law. I hope your life together is as beautiful as the two of you are.”

We posed for photos next to the cake, and cutting the cake, and feeding each other bites of cake. We posed with Freddy and Sam, with all the kids present, with all the family members …

“Is this what being a model is like?” I asked Dieter. He’d done some advertising shoots before.

“This is way better,” he said. “There’s food and I can make faces if I want to.” He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes.

”That one is not going in the photo album,” I told him. He just winked. I had a feeling there were going to be two albums, one “official” and another one full of candids.

Late in the afternoon, as kids were falling asleep and people were starting to drift away, the photographer led us down onto the beach. “Take off your shoes,” she said. “I want some shots of you walking barefoot through the surf. Barefoot on the sand. Just carefree and summery.”

As we walked, hand in hand, Dieter leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Remember that first time we went to the beach together? And I found out you didn’t know how to swim?”

”Yeah,” I said. “We saw that corgi and ate snow cones.” I turned to him. “If anyone had told me at that moment that we’d end up married, I’d have laughed in their face.”

”Not me,” Dieter said, shaking his head. “I knew it from the start. You know, I picked today for the wedding because it’s the anniversary of our first date. Of the night I knew this was going to happen.”

”You just wanted to make it easier to remember both anniversaries,” I said.

Dieter stopped walking and put his hands on my shoulders. “No, that’s not why. It’s because I promised Freddy I’d wait a year to see if I still felt the same. And I do. I couldn’t wait a day longer than necessary.” He kissed me and I completely forgot about the photographer, and the last of our guests, and anyone else who might have been watching. Nothing else mattered in the world but the two of us, together, as we were meant to be.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter x emily #late night talking

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kakashiweek · 6 months

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Kakashi Week 2024 Guidelines/Rules

Event Period: September 15th-22nd 2024

No early submissions, please; posting period begins September 15th in your timezone! Previews and peeks are more than welcome, however, and if you mention/tag us we'd love to reblog them!

Late submissions will be reblogged/accepted until the end of September.

Our 2024 prompts are here.

No signup or commitment is necessary to participate, and the event is open to everyone! You do not have to create for every prompt or every day - though you are welcome to do so if you like! - only create for whichever prompts catch your inspiration.

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perzawa · 2 years

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WHAT GUYS LIKE | 1.3K

suguru getō x satoru gojo x fem!reader

when you come to your stepbrother, practically begging for his help, how could he not take advantage of that?

a/n: this is an ask that i accidentally deleted lolol. “Step bros gojo and geto + step sis y/n lif ur uncomfy writing for both gojo and geto pls pick whichever one you'd like!! :D)”

warnings/tags! pseudo incest/stepcest, kinda manipulative gojo???, smooth talker gojo lol, innocent reader but everyone is an adult

you’re just so sweet.

at least that’s what gojo thinks. it’s what he’s thought the moment you were introduced to him. the second you opened your mouth to speak, he knew you’d be a problem.

he really can’t catch a break either because, even now, you’re so sweet while you’re on your pretty knees for him, begging for help.

for his help.

“please? i just want him to like me.” you look down, heat spreading to your cheeks while you fight the smile fighting to reveal itself. “i-i’ll do anything. just tell me what boys like…”

you don’t know what you’re asking for, do you? don’t know how hard his cock gets when you look up at him like that - your long lashes batting almost intentionally. like you know exactly what you’re doing to his body. gojo smirks, pretending to think things over because it’s not like he really needs to think. he knows exactly how to help.

“nah, suguru’s coming over. can’t help while he’s here,” he lies, shrugging as if to say there’s nothing he can do.

“then he can help too! i think… two guys can help better than just one, right?” you furrow your eyebrows and bite your lip, beginning to feel a little desperate. “i don’t know anything about boys so i can use all the help i can get.”

gojo stifiles a chuckle and nods. his heavy cock starts to strain against his underwear the longer he waits, but he continues to seem unphased.

“i’m glad you said that.”

when geto arrives, he can almost smell gojo’s ill-intentions. he’s definitely not against what gojo wants though since, well, he’s felt the same way as your stepbrother. the man would be lying if he said he’s never been awake at night, fisting his cock quietly to the thought of being between your legs for even a second.

it’s like you’ve walked into a den of hungry - no, starving lions.

“‘guru, sit right there,” gojo instructs and points to the sofa, watching the larger male make his way over to sit behind you. you’re unsure of what’s unfolding, but you stay in position on your knees, figuring your pleads have worked. “we’re gonna help you, ‘kay? you can trust us.” he hums as he walks over to the man. he instructs you to come over to them and you obey, confused, but willing to learn nonetheless.

your stepbrother reaches and gently grabs your hand, placing it on his best friend’s growing bulge. your eyes widen a little before looking up at gojo, the inability to hide your confusion being too obvious. you may not know a lot, but you know things.

“wha-“

“you know how to suck cock?”

you purse your lips, blinking slowly as you take in the crude sentence. what does that have to do with anything? your breath gets stuck in your throat and you physically have to force yourself to breathe.

“what? ‘toru…” you trail off, noticing the growing bulge under your hand. you turn to look at your brothers best friend with a horrified expression, your thoughts completely escaping you.

“you wanted help, didn’t you?” geto asks, placing his larger hand over your shaky one, a small groan escaping his lips as he makes you press harder. “just… trust us. boys don’t like girls who don’t listen.”

you can’t stop the whimper that falls from your mouth.

gojo kneels down beside you, his hand massaging your tense back. he presses his mouth to your ear and you can’t help the goosebumps that litter your skin. “relax,” he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe. “be a good girl for us, yeah?”

“but…”

he cuts you off again. “we wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” he pulls away, an unrecognizable expression painting his face. “jus’ wanna help you, and i think you know that.”

you breathe out, unable to even speak. you can even feel the moisture in your mouth completely evaporate. you did ask for help. you wanted this. you literally begged him to help you. he’s only trying to help, right?

“you still want him to like you, right?” gojo raises his eyebrows, referencing the man you have a crush on - the reason you’re in this predicament in the first place.

you gulp and nod. “y-yeah, i do… i’ve liked him for a while now,” you mutter, a familiar heat filling your tummy. you look down and curse yourself internally, feeling your arousal slowly coat your panties.

he nods and continues to rub your back for a few more seconds before stopping it above your ass. “then suck suguru’s cock.”

you’re unable to stop your hand from shaking as it starts to unzip geto’s jeans. your body feels like it’s overheating but you continue until you’re able to remove his cock from its tight confines. geto exhales, his thick cock throbbing as you held it firmly. a little whimper tumbles from your lips as you take in the sight of him filling your hand. to say you were shocked was a bit of an understatement, your lips hanging open as you stared at his heavy cock, watching intently as his veins pulse each time he twitches.

he was beautiful.

“‘toru…” you breathe out, your eyes glued to the twitching cock in your hand. you’ve only seen a dick once in your life and it was years ago when you’d just been introduced to chatrooms. safe to say it’s been a while since then.

“i know,” he mumbles, slyly squeezing your ass before guiding his hand to yours. “just spit on it.” you nod reluctantly and spit on geto’s neglected cock, watching your saliva drip down his shaft. you take a deep breath before gojo begins to assist you, moving your hand in a stroking motion. he watched intently, whispering little praises in your ear the more you were able to make his friend moan.

“just like that, make ‘guru feel good.” he retreats his hand, allowing you to continue on your own. you don’t know much, but you still try anyways, wrapping your lips around his reddened, leaking tip. you cringed, his salty precum coating the tip of your tongue. though a little disgusted, you continued, a wave of accomplishment washing over you when the man started to groan, thick fingers roughly grabbing your hair.

geto furrows his brows, bucking his hips as he pushes your head down. the moment his cock hits your throat, you find yourself gagging around it, eyes widening as the man begins to fuck your throat. your nose pressed itself against the man’s pubic hair, his musky scent infiltrating your nostrils. globs of spit begins to run down your throat as you take it, his tip bullying the back of your throat.

“look at that,” gojo whispers in your ear, pressing his hand over geto’s in order to push you down further, forcing the man deeper (if possible) into your throat. you groan, grinding your aching pussy on your free hand. “look at how good you take that, pretty girl. guys are gonna love you.” hot ropes of cum begin to spray your throat and you just simply take it, feeling geto’s hips that were once moving quickly begin to stutter, allowing your mouth to suck every last drop from him.

both of the men’s hands finally left your head and you were granted permission to pull yourself away. you could tell the men weren’t done with you though when you feel a pair of hands grab your face. with lidded eyes, you attempt to look at gojo, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours as he begins to wear a pitiful expression. your body starts to vibrate, you think, as cum oozes from your parted lips and onto your neck and chest.

“you’re gettin’ there,” he starts, swiping a bead of cum from your chin before pushing the finger into your mouth, insisting that you suck on it. “but you’ve got so much more to learn, pretty girl.”

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