#not the fact that his forehead is big??? youre not even criticizing the stylists choice youre being fucking mean abt how someone just.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

no offense but some of you guys are going from "yeah they didn't style jaskier's hair very well from the looks of this trailer :/// not a good stylistic choice considering how well we've seen his long hair styled in other stuff" to "OH MY GOOOD LOOK HOW BIG THEY'RE MAKING HIS FOREHEAD LOOK THEYRE MAKING IT LOOK SO BIG" really fucking fast and really. from the bottom of my heart. gotta say. it's not it

#the problem is the stylists making his hair look flat & overironed instead of how great it could rlly look #not the fact that his forehead is big??? youre not even criticizing the stylists choice youre being fucking mean abt how someone just. #looks at that point. #mine #jaskier #the witcher #witcher #joey batey #i hope they keep it like that in future seasons out of spite for you dicks

[etherealperrie]

Ease

- Ben Hardy Fluff In which on the eve of a big award show celebrating Bohemian Rhapsody, reader gets cold feet about almost everything except for her relationship with Ben which is, arguably, the only thing getting her through. Inspired by “Butterflies” by Kacey Musgraves -

Word Count: 2.4k // super fluffy below the cut y’all!! 

Lilac satin clings to your body, numerous pins holding the tiny beaded tulle floral appliques in the proper places. You turn to the side watching your reflection in the mirror as you sway, admiring the way the iridescent fabric seems to shimmer and change color in the light. You wonder what it will look like finished, ready to be scrutinized and photographed under the flash of hundreds of cameras in just over twenty-four hours. Your face is free of makeup and as you run your fingers across your naked skin, you wonder what you’ll look like finally put together – your tired eyes masked behind concealer and your hair done up rather than hanging messily somewhere between your chin and shoulders. The woman marking the hem at your feet clears her throat, shooting you an annoyed look and you mouth an apology, dropping your hands to your side and holding still.

In the corner of the mirror you can see Ben standing opposite you in the hotel room, two women marking his tuxedo and tacking the places that were unfinished or ill-fitting. His eyes connect with yours through the glass and a smile dances across his lips, the apples of his cheeks round and protruding. You can’t help but blush as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, apparently fond of your dress choice, laughing as you look away from him focusing back on your own reflection. He doesn’t look away, though, you were his favorite view. He could look at you for hours, even days on end, and never tire of you. Today is no exception and he watches as you nervously pick at your manicured nails, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at your reflection, the intention behind your eyes meticulous and critical.

You didn’t have much of a reason to be nervous but he could tell you were riddled with anxiety. There was no need to be, though – you look lovely here in the hotel room in an unfinished mock dress, he couldn’t even begin to fathom how you’d look at the ceremony. With your arm laced through his you’d comfort each other, entertain one another throughout the seemingly never ending show, and dance the night away at the after parties. He couldn’t wait to show you off and you couldn’t wait to spend the night showering him in adoration.

But he wished you could be the one in the spotlight. You deserved it: for putting up with him being away for so long to film, for having to listen to him practicing at the drums at virtually every hour because he was so nervous, for having to deal with your relationship being thrust into the spotlight, and for putting your life on the back-burner for his. Little did he know just how much of a dream it was for you. Sure, being away from him was difficult, but you’d do anything to see him succeed. Attending fabulous parties and brushing shoulders with people from films you loved was something you dreamt of as an adolescent, but now it’s just an added bonus – being with Ben, watching him live his dream, was enough.

You’re soon dressed back in your sweatpants and an old shirt of Ben’s, the luxurious material stripped from your body in a blur. You watch as the team of stylists collect their things and shuffle out of the room, Ben helping them out and thanking them profusely as he shuts the door behind them.

“Right,” he sighs, crossing the room to join you on the bed, “we’re practically ready.”

“Are you excited?” you ask as he cuddles up close to you, readjusting so that you’re sitting up with your back against his chest, your legs tangled together. He hums into your neck and brushes his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“To see my boys, yeah.”

You laugh, leaning your head back so that you’re able to look at him. Of course that’s what he’s most excited for. It’s almost all he talked about on the plane ride over, he hadn’t seen them in months and after spending almost a year together shooting and doing press, they were all desperate for a reunion.

“What about the awards?”

His eyes shift to look at you, the length of his eyelashes casting shadows onto his cheekbones. He shrugs his shoulders, “who cares what a bunch of critics think? I think the movie’s great.” His twists the ends of your hair around his fingers and exhales deeply. “What about you? First red carpet,” he teases, looking down at you. Groaning, you turn into his chest, nuzzling into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. He wraps his arms around you instinctively.

“I don’t know,” you mumble into his chest. This wasn’t supposed to be your first red carpet with him, you were meant to be at the London premiere of the film alongside him, but duties at university called you away. So now it was the Oscars – no big deal. The media wouldn’t know who you were and you took solace in that idea, but being surrounded by hundreds of celebrities you didn’t know, dozens of photographers snapping at you, and the fact that millions of people would be watching from around the world was a bit daunting. You never expected any of this to happen to you, for someone like Ben to come along.

“Well, hey, I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” He slides a hand down the length of your torso until he finds your hand amongst the bedsheets and wraps his pinky finger around yours, “promise”.

You smile, squeezing his hand tightly. “Promise to catch me if I trip over my dress? Or more likely, my own feet?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he laughs.

“Yeah, the last thing I need is to be in the tabloids as the girl who fell on her face at the Oscars,” you huff. “But on the up side, I wouldn’t just be Ben Hardy’s girlfriend anymore.”

“I dunno babe, might be good publicity” he jokes. You pull back from him and smack his arm playfully. He rolls his eyes and you mock him, doing the same. “And who says you’re just my girlfriend?”

“Everyone, Ben.” You crawl off his lap and clear your throat, crossing the small space to the bathroom. Ben watches as you flick the light on, flinching at the sight of yourself under the fluorescent lights in the mirror. He wished you wouldn’t do that, he wished you knew how highly he thought of you. Sweeping your hair off your neck and tying it back, you sit on the edge of the bath and turn the faucet on, the loud harsh sound of running water filling the room.

Ben rolls out of the bed and sighs, lackadaisically crossing the room to where you sit. “Is that such a bad thing?”

You look up at him while you reach out to test the water temperature with your hand – it’s only tepid. “When you’re not even referred to by your own name and the only thing people base you off of is your appearance, it’s not…great.”

His brows knit together and you’re not sure if it’s in confusion, anger, frustration, or some combination of all three. “So that’s what you’re really worried about,” Ben breathes. You shrug your shoulders and sigh again, reaching down to plug the tub, finally satisfied with the temperature of the water. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip and takes a step into you from behind, his hands on your shoulders. There’s no better feeling than being wrapped up in his arms, strong and broad, warm and comforting.

He runs his hands down your arms and across your middle, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt and pulling it up over your head with ease. His fingers trace lazy circles into your shoulders and you relax into him, succumbing to the feeling of his soft fingertips as they unhook your bra. You spin around to face him, pressing your body against his to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Ben I’m tired,” you mumble as his hands wander up and down your nude back, one hand toying with the string of your sweats. He could wait until tomorrow night; for right now you simply want to be held.

“Alright, let’s just have a bath.” His voice is low and soft, understanding what you want. His green eyes are lush and kind as you step away from him and strip from your remaining clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Ben does the same, leaving his pajamas in a small pile next to yours and climbs into the bath – not sitting behind you as he typically does, but rather across from you.

He looks absolutely heavenly, the steam rising up from the water around him, his blonde hair slicked back with bright green eyes on display under the dim bathroom lights. He’s watching you intently as you sit with your head resting against the porcelain tub, eyes closed in an effort to relax. The room is quiet.

“You know I love you, right?”

You sit up to look at him, extending one of your legs so that it rests on his thigh. He places a hand on your ankle and traces his fingers lightly along your calf.

“’Course I do” you say simply, curious as to why he’s asking. Why his head hangs low and his eyes avoid yours as he talks. You loved him in ways you didn’t even know how to express.

“If going tomorrow is going to make you uncomfortable in any way, don’t feel obl-”

“Ben,” you interrupt, sitting forward to cup his chin in your hand, “I’m going to go. I want to be there for you.”

He looks at you through hooded eyes, lifting his hand to envelop yours, it’s wet and warm.

“I don’t want you to be upset.”

“I’m not upset, love. I’m so happy for you.” Your brow is furrowed tightly with concern. “I’m sorry if what I said made you think that.”

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so fucking lucky to have you – to share a moment like this with you. I just need you to know that.”

“Come on, Ben, I’m the lucky one you’re taking me to the Oscars. You’re a part of an Oscar nominated film. I am so proud of you.” You lean in and kiss his lips gently and you revel in the feeling as he smiles against your mouth.

He pulls away but presses his forehead against yours, his breathing shallow. “You should get an award.”

You laugh and roll your eyes, sitting back against the tub again.

“I’m serious,” he huffs.

“Uh huh,” you mock, splashing his face. He rolls his eyes and splashes you back, his wave much bigger. You wipe the water from your eyes and kick him gently under the water.

“Really, I know this isn’t your thing – the premieres and shows and paps and all this.” His eyes are intent on you as he speaks. You don’t even consider interrupting his thoughts, in a state of adoration. “And I know my job isn’t ideal for a relationship and I know you have to sacrifice your career just to see me sometimes, but you put up with it so gracefully.”

“Ben, I love you, I wouldn’t give us up for anything. Life is hard, it’s been an adjustment, but I love you.” Somehow your hands intertwined, fingers lace together tightly under the water. He’s looking at your hands and lifts them out of the water, bringing the back of your palm to his lips, kissing your wet skin softly. He looks up at you and you laugh, shaking your head.

“I love you too,” he says between kisses as he trails them up your bare arm, “you’re going to look stunning tomorrow night.” There’s a moment of quiet and you just admire him, the way his muscular arm is slung over the edge of the tub. “Even if you fall” he laughs loudly, interrupting the silence.

“God, just shut up and kiss me” you groan, reaching out and pulling him against you. His lips meet yours with fervor and you sink into the feeling of him, the scent of his woodsy cologne mixing with the soft floral scent of the bubbles, the feeling of his body against yours – all so intoxicating, overwhelming.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You thought you were destined to live a life just like all the other people in your life: simple, routine. But when he came along it all changed, you still feel like your old self and although you know that life with Ben is never simple or routine, you wouldn’t change it. Some things aren’t meant to be easy and some things are meant to push you out of your comfort zone: staying in the comfortable, the familiar, will never yield anything close to a life with him.

“Do you feel any better?” he asks, kissing along your jawline. The sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts and you nod.

“Mhm,” you hum. You really did, of course on the carpet tomorrow you’d feel overwhelmed but you know he’ll be there whispering into your ear, reminding you of your worth – of his love for you – and a joke or two to keep it light. He didn’t want you down on yourself and neither did you, not anymore. You reach around his torso and pull up the plug, the drain sputtering as water rushes down. He smiles against your cheek chuckles into your ear, pushing himself up to step out of the tub. He wraps a towel around his waist and holds his hand out to you, helping you out and into a robe.

“Let’s go to bed,” you sigh, taking your hair down from its clip. Ben admires the way it tumbles down your neck and he hums to himself at the sight of you.

“Yeah, need my beauty rest” he jokes, snuggling under the covers. You laugh alongside him, rolling over onto your side to rest your head against his bare chest. His hands are already combing through the ends of your hair, a habit he adopted early on in your relationship – calming to you both. As his fingers twist through your hair a simple thought crosses his mind. It was love. It was him knowing that parties and awards and nights out were nothing in comparison to moments like this, time alone with you.

#ease #ben hardy #ben hardy x ready #ben hardy imagine #bo rhap cast #bohemian rhapsody #borhap cast #ben hardy fluff #fluff & angst #my writings #just a lil something to hold you over till drunken moments 3 #etherealperrie