#“I think we deserve a soft epilogue my love. We are good people

[washedupslapper]

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough." — Seventy Years of Sleep # 4. nikka ursula

if I could reach you I would

if I could go back I would

if I only could

-Stitch In Time by Bear's Den

[darkcrowprincess]

“I think we deserve a soft epilogue my love. We are good people, and we've suffered enough.”

(Don't like don't read. Post hate and I'll block you)

[ayo-edebiri]

i can't believe "the very touch of you corrupts" is from supernatural

[ofhumanvoice-a]

THIS EXCHANGE IS STILL NOT OKAY

Terra: It's what Headmistress Dowling would've wanted. Saul: Who am I to argue with Farah?

TOO SOON, GUYS.

[kamaluhkhan]

WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you. 

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter. 

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.” 

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. 

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do. 

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin. 

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here. 

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her. 

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes. 

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“it's fine, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.” 

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head. 

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness. 

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out. 

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin. 

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos. 

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath. 

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too. 

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

“i don’t know,” you admit. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight. 

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more. 

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?” 

of course, she remembers. 

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

 “we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.” 

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.”

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones. 

you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being. 

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits. 

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper. 

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours. 

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away. 

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?” 

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved. 

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning. 

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek. 

fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.

you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.

you’re the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful. 

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often. 

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“hm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.” 

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you groan. "they're personal...."

it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.

vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"

"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"

vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.

“don't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

[kolumander]

"I think we deserve

a soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people

and we've suffered enough."

–Seventy Years of Sleep # 4. nikka ursula

~~~

i love stucky, i wish it were canon

[userpeggycarter]

STEGGY ANNIVERSARY MONTH week four — Endgame 👩🏻‍❤️‍👨🏼

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough – Seventy Years of Sleep #4, Nikka Ursula [x]

5 and also 75 years ago, Steve returned to Peggy. ❤️

HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSARY, AVENGERS: ENDGAME! april 26th, 2019.

@lgbtqcreators creator bingo 💖 transition

[id in alt]

[dean-is-love]

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough.

[rpmemes-galore]

raw lines from a variety of sources ... sentence starters

"Then perish."

"Pick a god and pray."

"Even fate picks its favorites."

"Everything happens so much."

"I pity the fool that lives like you."

"Then become the dirt I walk on."

“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”

"I am a monument to all your sins."

“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“

"You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

"If you want me to die you can just say so."

"Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

"Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

"Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

"We might be in the history God abandoned."

"I will face God and walk backwards into hell."

"I can’t go to Hell. I’m all out of vacation days."

"The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

"Don't leave me, dear. Haunt me like a memory."

"I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

“I have been through hell and come out singing.”

"I will die on this hill before I bend on this matter."

"You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

"If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

"I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“

"To become God is the loneliest achievement of all."

"You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

"You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

"My ancestors are smiling on me. Can you say the same?"

"If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me."

“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“

"If you should ever get to heaven, I’ll be there to make it hell."

"No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

"God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

"Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

"There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

"You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature."

"We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back… you blinked."

"I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

"The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

"If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have."

"Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?"

"I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”

"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”

"You took a pure and beautiful thing, and you beat out everything good, to suit your ends."

"We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”

"I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

"Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer."

"The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

"Across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

"The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell… yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil."

"What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

"I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

"I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

"Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

"One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

[jeonqkooks]

a fluff drabble ; 37 & 50 w the supernova couple:(

ways to hold the sun | jjk

SUPERNOVA SERIES MASTERPOST

pairing: jungkook x f!reader prompts: "you wrote me a song?" + "this isn't adrenaline, i want to spend the rest of my life with you." rating: PG genre/warnings: established relationship, idol au; fluff, itty bitty angst (for the supernova peeps?! shocking :o); kissing, implied smut, jk rides a motorcycle, unedited bc yolo 🤷‍♀️ word count: 1.8k note: thank you so much anon for sending in this request!! i'm almost a year late to this but like i always say, better late than never right? lol. anyways, this request gave me the chance to wrap up their story with a neat little bow. i can't believe this is the last thing i'll write for supernova :( this series will always be one of my personal favorites and i'm so emo that i'm ending their story with this drabble. but, they'll always have a special, special place in my heart and i'll always love them <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

How do you hold the sun?

The answer is simple.

You hold him with two arms wrapped around his waist - tightly, because it feels like he holds your life in the palm of his hand. In more ways than one, he does.

You hated that motorcycle that he loved so much, calling it unsafe even though he isn't reckless at all. He may be a daredevil sometimes, and the most adventurous compared to his hyungs, but Jungkook would never neglect his safety. He returns home to you every day, that's always his number one priority.

He'd convinced you to let him take you out on his motorcycle today, to this spot he knows just outside of the city to watch the sunset together. You'd been against the idea at first, but it was a losing battle and you were all too aware of it. Once he'd whipped out a pout and big puppy dog eyes, you knew you'd cave.

Now, as you sit behind him, holding onto him like a koala as the bike moves smoothly along with the wind, you're glad that you'd agreed to let him do this. The city grows smaller, and it feels like all of your worries seem more and more insignificant - manageable, like something you could easily overcome - by the second, until the whole skyline can fit into one single frame.

It feels nice, hiding in plain sight. The ridiculously chunky helmets that sit securely on your heads shield you from any and all outsiders. You can squeeze him as tightly as you want even at the red lights, and he can hold your hand without the fear of being recognized. To anyone else, you're just two lovebirds and a license plate. Two people in love. It's the most normal thing in the world.

When you arrive at your destination and he takes off his helmet, the radiance of his grin almost knocks you off your axis. It's ever-bright, filled with so much happiness that could make you cry for some reason. You'll never understand how a person can be the entire universe, so wonderful and spectacular and magnificent, but he is. He always will be.

There's that one poem that you hold close to your heart. Sometimes, when you retrace the words in your mind, you think it must have been written for you and him. "We deserve a soft epilogue, my love," it reads. "We are good people and we've suffered enough."

You aren't sure if you're a good person, but as he kisses you with so much love that must rival any other love in all of history, you think you do deserve a soft epilogue.

Your mother often says that good things should be repeated three times.

You and him.

You and him.

You and him.

How do you hold the sun?

You hold him with your fingers intertwined with his, a soft smile on your face, and dozens of polaroids scattered across the floor.

"Just one more," Jungkook says, reaching for the purple Instax again.

"Stop!" you laugh, lightly pushing him away when he tries to point the lens in your direction. "You've said that twenty times in the last two hours."

This is a new hobby that he's taken up. Ever since Hoseok gifted him the damn camera, it's all that Jungkook has been doing. To say that he was obsessed would probably be an understatement. He snaps photos of everything and nothing, of his meals whenever you draw a heart on his plate with the mayonnaise, of the crescent moon outside the window at night, of himself as he makes silly faces at the camera.

But most of all, he takes photos of you.

He keeps so many of them in his wallet that the stack of polaroids dedicated to you is thicker than all of his cash, which is to say that there's a lot. He keeps one in the pocket of every coat, because he said every time he reaches inside for warmth and finds a piece of you there, it makes him smile and forget that he's even cold at all. You'd nearly melted when he told you that. It was so earnest and pure that it almost made you feel guilty for ever thinking there'd come a day where the adoration he had for you could fill anything less than the sky.

"Please?" Jungkook pouts, before pulling you closer and kissing your cheek sweetly. "I need just one more for my new coat."

At this point, it's not a matter of having enough polaroids for his coats anymore. It's a matter of having enough coats for his polaroids.

You roll your eyes with playful endearment, but you allow him regardless. It shoots pure serotonin through your veins when he grins. He lets go of your hands to hold the camera, immortalizing the grin that you mimic, a contented sigh leaving him as he takes the shot. He tells you he loves you afterward, like it's such a privilege to be able to have you at all.

No one ever warns you that when the sun holds you back, your heart will feel so full that it might just stop beating altogether.

How do you hold the sun?

You hold him with your face tucked safely in the crook of his neck, his arm around your body, rubbing odd patterns on your bare back.

You're both calming down from the hour-long session of twisting around in the sheets on a lazy Sunday morning, your only witness being the sunlight that creeps in through the slit between your curtains. Jungkook hums a tune that you're unfamiliar with, and the soft vibration of his chest almost lulls you to sleep again.

"What song is that?" you mumble, your eyes fluttering close.

"Your song."

"Hmm?" You don't quite register what his answer, you already have one foot in dreamland already. "My song?"

"Wrote it for you."

And suddenly, just like that, you're wide awake.

He presses an absentminded kiss against your hair, like this is all just common information.

"Huh?" You push yourself up to prop your upper body on one elbow, looking down at him with a slight frown. "You wrote a song for me?"

"Yeah," he chuckles at your reaction. His other hand that isn't touching your back comes up to brush your hair away from your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. If you weren't too focused on a different issue, you would blush, even though this is something he's done a million times. "I wrote a song for you."

"Be serious."

"I am serious."

"How?" you ask, unbelieving. "When? Why?"

"What do you mean how? It's literally my job," he laughs, pulling you flush against his body again. "Why? Because I love you. When? I started writing it after we first met."

"Jungkook," you breathe, full of teary-eyed affection as you press a kiss to his jawline, his neck, the top of his shoulder, anywhere you can reach while he's embracing you this tightly.

You repeat his name three times, then three more, then three more, until you're a broken record and he has to shush you with a kiss, one that makes your knees buckle even though you're already lying in bed.

If the world wanted to take him away from you again, you really wouldn't be able to survive. So you hold him desperately, thinking that you never want to let him go. Praying that the world will let you keep him this time.

How do you hold the sun?

You hold him with all your might, even though you're blinded by how bright he shines. Even though he's the source of all life, and you're just a flickering light that can be snuffed out at any moment.

You're always the first person that he looks for. He runs to you at full speed, picks you up with his arms around your waist and spins you around despite your flushed cheeks indicating embarrassment as everyone - the staff and his members included - chuckles fondly at the sight. You can still hear the crowd out there chanting their names, still buzzing with postshow excitement. Jungkook is buzzing too, that much is clear.

You know he misses this - the stage, the fans, the bond he shares with all the people that adore him. It's in his eyes, the way they sparkle so brilliantly that could put stars to shame. If you were any good with words, you would write whole novels about the light in his eyes.

He presses you against the wall while everybody else carries on with their business. You suppose they're used to this from the two of you. The staff hurries to clear the set, moving equipment from backstage to the vans outside so they could finally wrap up an exhausting day. The boys shuffle wordlessly to their dressing rooms to wind down, to bask in the high that only the stage could bring them.

Jungkook peppers kisses all over your face, his nose bumping your skin as he moves from your forehead to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, to your jawline, to your chin, to your lips. You giggle quietly as you let him shower you with affection, the palpable love seeping through every kiss.

That is, until he says something that makes you stop breathing completely.

"Marry me."

You stare at him, dumbfounded, as you try to make your brain work again. His chocolate orbs stare back at you, and it feels like looking at the night sky on a cloudless night to find the entire galaxy twinkling, smiling down at you. It's unfathomable how you could be loved by someone like him.

"Marry me. Please, marry me." he says again, his fingers caressing your face like you're the most precious being he's ever seen. Before you can open your mouth to answer him, he continues, "This isn't adrenaline. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

You know you're nothing compared to him who lies in the center of the universe. You will never be able to shine as brightly as he does, not even a fraction.

You know you're nothing compared to him, and yet, he revolves around you regardless. To the rest of the world, you're insignificant. You're merely a soul among billions of others. If you were to disappear one day, you don't think a lot of people would care.

But to him, you're everything. You're the reason he exists, you're his favorite person in the whole wide world, you're the only one who will ever have his heart, you're his soft epilogue. He doesn't dim his light for you, and he should never have to. Instead, he lifts you up. He makes you shine too, even if it's only the two of you who see it. It's only you and him, but it's more than enough. It's the only thing that matters.

So, the question remains: How do you hold the sun?

The answer, in the end, is simple.

You hold him with love.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.06.23]

[martianbugsbunny]

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough.

—Seventy Years of Sleep

[cowgurrrl]

Graceland Too

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: okay but I kinda want to write this into a series (gif by @loregifs)

Summary: “I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.” - Seventy Years of Sleep #4. nikka ursula aka Miller/Williams family time plus one [1.1k]

Warnings: Pregnancy talk, tooth rotting fluff, can be read as an additional part to What Sarah Said and Sweet Jane but can also be read as a stand-alone, that’s all

"How's are the Miller's doing today?" He asks as he walks into your shared room. You're laid on your side, counting baby kicks obsessively and trying not to fall asleep. It's still the middle of the day, and your sleep is already fucked. Rest has not gotten easier as the weeks have passed, but it feels especially impossible now at thirty-four weeks. 

It's been a relatively normal pregnancy. Your morning sickness returned with a vengeance and got so bad that you had to go to the hospital to get fluids because you were throwing up so much. It's subsided a little in your second and third trimesters, but even the slightest smell can make you nauseous for the rest of the day. Poor Joel had to switch soaps three times before finding something that didn't agitate either of you. These days, you're exhausted, sore, and ready not to be pregnant anymore.

"This one," you point to your swollen stomach. "Has been kicking my ass all day. I barely got out of bed before I had to lie back down." You sigh. Joel kisses you before leaning down and kissing your belly. 

"You be nice to your mama," he says, and you laugh when the baby kicks in defiance. You grab his hand and place it where you just felt them, and he smiles when the baby kicks at him, too. "Stubborn." 

"Wonder where they get it from." You hum, and he smiles. For a while, you two lay together, feeling for tiny movements as the sun shines high in the sky. He lights up each time the baby moves against his hand, which is more than enough to tolerate the constant kicks in your ribs. He loves this baby so much already.

"You're in the home stretch now," he says. "Any last guesses on what you think it'll be?"

"I still think it's a girl. I'd be shocked if we had a boy."

"I think it's a boy." 

"Because you want a boy or because you actually think it's a boy?"

"Excuse me, I do think it's a boy, and I'd be just as happy if we had a girl," he says as he runs his hand over the hill of your belly. "You're carrying lower. My mama always used to say that was a good way to tell what someone was having."

"Alright, I'll let you have it. Ellie thinks it's a boy, too. She said she just felt it," you look down and poke at your stomach. "Whoever you end up being, can you come out soon? I'm tired."

"Couple more weeks."

"Easy for you to say."

"That's true," he says as you push the hair out of his eyes. "D'you think we're ready?" 

"I think it's a little late to ask that, cowboy," you laugh, and he rolls his eyes. "But, yes, I think we're ready." You, Ellie, and Joel spent weeks converting one of the old rooms in the house into a nursery. At first, they were fine with you helping, but as the weeks passed and you got bigger, they put their foot down. Even if you picked up an empty box or a paintbrush, Ellie would yell from the other side of the room and take it from your hands. When they painted, they barely let you in the house because they thought the fumes would harm you and the baby. You've had to remind them that you've been the one to save their asses multiple times, and you can still do things even though you're pregnant, but you might as well have been talking to a brick wall. 

Joel and Ellie built most of the nursery together— everything from the crib to the rocking chair to the space mobile hanging from the ceiling. They painted the walls a pretty yellow, making the dusty, old room fit for the newest Miller. They painted a growth chart by the door and even marked their own heights and ages in pencil on the wall. You came in when you heard them giggling, and then they insisted on marking how far your bump came out on the wall, too. You couldn't say no when they looked at you with those stupid grins and big eyes. Ellie took a polaroid of you standing in front of the chart as Joel pressed a paint-stained hand to your stomach and kissed you.

Seeing her so excited about the new baby made both of you feel so much better. She's talked nonstop about everything she wants to do with the baby pretty much since she found out you were pregnant. You were unsure how she would react since she's been your only priority for years now, and she's getting older, but she's ecstatic. She held your hair when you woke up throwing up, and Joel was on patrol. She made you soup and reminded you to take the way-too-expensive prenatal vitamins. She even learned to play lullabies on her guitar to sing to the new baby. She'd be a great mom.

"I'm so excited to meet them," Joel says softly, and you smile.

"Me too," You say. You lean in to kiss him and barely graze his lips when the baby kicks in Joel's direction. You try to ignore it and kiss him again when they do it again. They kick you hard enough that Joel feels the baby's foot against his hand, and you both laugh. "I can't believe we're getting cockblocked by a fetus."

"How do you think you got here?" Joel asks loudly, looking down at your stomach.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ellie asks as she walks into your room, and you laugh.

"Every time I try to kiss Joel, the baby kicks at him," you say. She gives you that classic Ellie stink face, and you hold out your hand. "C'mere." You urge. She hesitates before walking over to your side of the bed. You take her hand and let her feel the baby's movements, making her smile.

"That's so weird," she says but doesn't move her hand. She lingers, having a semi-private moment with the baby as they turn and wiggle against each of their hands. They are moving back and forth between Joel and Ellie, like they can't decide who they want to hang out with, but they want to be involved. Ellie crouches down next to the bed, resting her chin on her hand, and Joel traces little patterns into the fabric of your shirt. Slowly, the baby settles down and falls asleep, their movements less crazy but still sporadic. 

Ellie and Joel come to the same conclusion but don't move. They stay there with you and the baby as the day rages on outside. Let it rage, you think. I have everything I need right here.

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tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

[sequs-art-box]

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough.

[antisisyphus]

do people not remember ""I think we deserve/ a soft epilogue my love/ we are good people/ and we've suffered enough"

[cosmicqvake]

“I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people, and we’ve suffered enough.”

This quote reminded me of them. It’s heartwrenchingly beautiful (and painful, I’m crying)

[nish-bean]

okay so far—i’ve heard a lot of bridgerton book fans complain about how the writers “messed up” francesca’s story by making it “too inclusive” in gender-bending michael who is now, in the show, michaela.

whether or not you have an opinion yet, here’s a little rant on why i think the francesca/michaela pairing is not a bad change and why the show is actually taking a better turn than the books.

to start with, let me be frank about my opinions of the show vs the books. imo, there were some things the show messed up, however, their improvements to the stories of the characters far outweighed the negatives. season 1 was done quite well i think (although there was a rushed epilogue) and it definitely held my attention. season 2 was a bit more of a let down in comparison to the books because the story felt even more rushed in the show than the books which really is saying something. season 3 was delightful but i do wish we had more depth in penelope and colin’s relationship instead of just a checklist few feelings addressed. nonetheless, it was by far the most enjoyable season.

now to love on to francesca’s story. in the original books, francesca is married to john and loves him dearly until he dies leaving her pregnant and alone. michael, her love interest in the book, is john’s cousin and best friend. francesca, soon after john’s death, has a miscarriage and struggles with the fact that she very much wants a child. meanwhile, michael struggles with fitting into john’s shoes and the fact that he has been in love with francesca for years. honestly, this was my least favorite bridgerton book. so much so that i would say i did not like it at all.

the storyline seemed fine at first, but really the entire book was just michael pining after francesca and having a talk with colin after which he forces francesca to marry him and then there’s just a lot of sex. it was, i’m sad to say, a poorly written book. i’m sure many people like it but i for one can’t understand why. the characters never resolve their struggles—instead they just get married OUT OF THE BLUE. it didn’t feel like a good romance at that point.

the show is trying to (or at least what it looks like they intend to do) give francesca a more fulfilling storyline that doesn’t err on the creepy side of things. instead of a crazy, smitten male cousin who forces francesca to marry him—we have a soft but strong feminine character that doesn’t compete with john for francesca’s affections, but rather, allows the viewer to see her as a different love. yes, it explores sexuality and seems “too inclusive” but honestly i feel like it was a good choice. plus, given that they are both women, francesca will still deal with her infertility problems and perhaps find a solution or be given a different storyline altogether but certainly not worse than the books.

now, many argue that a gender-bending might’ve been better for eloise given her disdain for the “normalcy” of mundane society. while that is a valid point, eloise’s main love interest has already been introduced as marina’s (lady crane) new husband. assuming the writers want to continue with eloise’s original love story, they can no longer gender-bend eloise’s love interest without changing the characters altogether (which is a possibility i’m not opposed to).

all in all, the reason i’m so defensive about francesca’s show arc is probably because when i read the books i knew she deserved better than michael. he was overbearing and obsessed and i didn’t see francesca reciprocate anything but mild friendship and lust. i’m hoping that with the liberty to change this character, they give francesca the all-consuming, wonderful love story she deserves.

sorry for the rant haha :)