#ic. Alana stark.

[godblooded]

do you know what it is to be unmade? oh, stark does. he’s felt the terrible weight of reversal clamping around his chest — life trying to turn you backwards with a vice grip. he’s felt the blinding agony of backwards creation; he’s felt every kind of suffering a man can take. it doesn’t cross his mind that @herrage might not realize the enormity of that — how unafraid it makes a person. how pain is secondary to experience, and all else, and how tawdry, how pitiful pain is beside want.

he’s seen into dark corners he’s completely unafraid of now and he would do it all again. this is a hero in truth and in fact — blinky flickers quicker and a deep flush of pure pink blasts across that freckled face of his. his grin is boyish, borders shy, contorts metal around the heavy square of his jaw.

“life is pain, highness. anyone who tells you different is selling something.”

pop culture bereft, usually, but a touch of romance is lent to him. his eyes flutter shut the second that kiss is bestowed, and it’s instinctive — his palm reaches to his own chest, shadows that bright flicker, tries to muffle it.

“bitte sehr, jederzeit. very much my pleasure.”

every dress shirt is too tight, stark is well-aware. if physicians could bother with him they’d be constantly admonishing — mottled flesh beneath is expansively roughened pink and tender, crimson and violet and all alabaster at once. he’s given up every inch of himself to the world and he’ll keep doing it; he isn’t afraid. he’s all thin muscle and sinew straining ever so against crème linen.

“you’re incredibly pretty.”

he isn’t self-conscious enough to feel stupid — that comes a few seconds later.

[godblooded]

the man of iron doesn’t flinch. he doesn’t bat an eyelash. he doesn’t do a thing but reach out, wrap his arms around the warmth alana stark considers his own son. he presses his own slight frame around the other, regardless of how blinky protests in quiet vibrations.

“mine, too, buddy.”

@godblooded mama's boy

"Half of my heart is in your chest."

[hraunwyf]

Name: (Dr.) Alana Maria Stark.

Age: 47.

Do you like to cuddle?: I definitely like to cuddle. In fact, the likelihood I’m cuddling with you right now? Pretty high.

Can we make-out?: It would be an honor and a privilege.

A night in or dinner out?: Day out, night in. See enclosed: tickets to Phantom of the Opera, box five, final performance.

Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: ice cream WITH chocolate covered strawberries! Or the other way around. I don’t believe in restrictions.

What makes you a good Valentine?: I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you. I mean that from the bottom of both my hearts.

Would you cook for me?: yes, but you’re the better cook. And it makes you super happy.

Would you let me cook for you?: this is also a thing that you might be doing right now, depending on when you’re reading this. But— yes, always. I’m a little Italian, food is love. it’s meager in comparison to the happiness it brings you. So yes, always. As long as it makes you happy.

"accepted, accepted, accepted."

[godblooded]

the man of iron’s nothing but a man, sometimes. not particularly impressive — little creature, eyes like pearlescent silver and sea-blue moonlight. a crisp, certainly too tight button-down hugs his frame where just beneath a binder clutches the arc reactor within its chamber in his chest. dim, faint light radiates in quiet cycles from dead center.

“dr. ziegler—“

the little hero holds out a hand to @herrage , a broad grin set in his mouth, wolffish and harmless at once. the glint of scarlet metal burned into his right temple catches the light, harshly fused with flesh. if the good doctor’s body has been given to the duress of her cause, the man of iron has done the very same. and yet — he never seems to falter from a boyish joy.

“it’s such an honor— and uh— and such— such a priv— privilege! please forgive me, your aptitude is unparalleled and there is so much in the world today that would go both unanswered and undiscovered without your prowess!”

sheepishness writs itself large on stark’s face. apology furrows his brow.

“i— i’m something of a fan of your work.”

[godblooded]

“ i’ll get you out of here. ” stella @ stark

he’s frothing at the mouth the minute she pushes him. he doesn’t know who’s talking to him for a second but there are words coming out of her mouth, and her voice somewhere in his ears. the world is fucking spinning — the sixth vodka-soda had been a mistake, but stark is nothing but hubris, spiraling downward to shatter that earth’s crust of expectation before burying himself in it too deep to get out. and of course —

now she’s having a panic attack trying to be as out of sight on this balcony as possible.

of all the fucking people.

stark looks nothing like howard. maybe she got his dark hair and his face like some constant mirror of charisma, but her eyes are a periwinkle blue that make a snowy sky look dark. she stumbles out of the captain’s grip.

“ i’m fine, rogers. ”

like there aren’t little spidery red veins bloodshot in those eyes, like he’s not breathing so hard his diaphragm is in agony. blinky blinks blinks blinks quick with every tightening breath. stark’s dying to dig his hands into his own chest and pull — the panic makes that vibration feel like an intrusion ( isn’t it? blinky’s an open wound, as far as medical definitions go ). he quashes the urge by biting the inside of his cheek so mercilessly he tastes metal.

“ just gonna need the big guy to put back the good stuff because one more shot and i’m facedown. fucking asgard. ”

[godblooded]

“ every day of the week, brother. ” his younger sibling practically takes him out with a shove of the shoulder — in spite of her considerably smaller height.

"Miss me?"

[godblooded]

@hraunwyf (x)

you stare at her. for. like. a minute. you literally can’t believe that worked. you don’t know how to deal with the fact that that worked. why did that work from, like, the other room? better than raising your own volume? why are you so stupid?

“ yeah. uh. i know you’re shorter than me but you have cool magic and i can’t reach the flour. i don’t even know how it got back there. did i put it there? i’ve been sober for like. a month and a half. holy shit. is that flour like a year old? oh fuck. ”

[godblooded]

“you as fucking bored as i am?”

the man of iron ducks almost awkwardly out into the night air. the gunmetal grey and vivid crimson of his helmet’s remnants have burned like a scarlet letter into the right side of his face, creeps across brow and temples to jaw and cheek in almost an L. his eyes are silver-blue, maintain an unnatural glimmer. blinky hums quietly from dead-center of his chest, a constant sound he can hear so clearly.

the balcony to this party is better than the party. he doesn’t like this kind of thing anymore — it’s not fun without the coke or the booze and he doesn’t want/cannot handle either. not on a body so ravaged it is three prosthetic limbs and the lone presence of his Human Leg. he wraps fingers around the edge to lean over and look to the ground below, curious about the courtyard area. back to his feet, rocking easily. dark hair slicks back, a deeper iron grey at his temples.

“i’m about to honkshoomimi at this thing. —didn’t mean to break you out of your reverie. it’s just that like… if you’re outside at one of these things, it’s because it’s the preferable option to being inside.”

he gestures with a grey and cherry hand that whirs mechanically, a sweeping gesture to the room just behind them both.

@bianfu

[fortislumen-archive]

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃.     ➤     @theyeardecembered​      sent:   The Rescue is everything to him. Stark has let her know and has said it, always always always. The warmth with which he thinks of her is a warmth he has literally managed to interpret , finally , because it is a warmth. And he would love to tell her. Even a little. Even a quiet adoration. Stark’s eyes are white-blue when he kisses her on the cheek in parting , and always , always does it desire to bubble to the surface … and will , eventually , but not right now. Not right here. She self - consciously crosses her arms over blinky — “ come uh — come back soon , yeah ? “ dimensions are tawdry things to hop across , but she won’t presume. But she will — suggest. 

Silence takes over around them for a moment as Virginia is getting herself ready to go.   She isn't one for goodbyes, nor the melancholy of having to say  ' see you soon '.   Virginia built a life in a universe she doesn't belong at, and still manages to feel the guilt of having to leave the person she loves to go back to the life she actually has somewhere else.  There's a freaking company with her last name on it, people who need the Rescue somewhere else, because here they got enough people to care for them already.   All these thoughts and many more are running through her head in maximum speed as she finishes zipping on her under armor, before being surprised by the kiss on her cheek.   She smiles, biting her bottom lip before looking up.   She could stare at those bright blue eyes for hours and would never get tired of it, but her own is filled with shame and sadness, and she's quick to avert her eyes from Stark.

❝  You're missing me already?  ❞  She jokes, trying to hide the nervousness she always feels when getting ready to send herself to another dimension.   It's a weird feeling all along, and surely not pleasant at all.

[godblooded]

“that’s so kind! usually i’m a moron. once nat called me the west’s most beloved little prince and —“ breath and speech halt to a screeching stop, the bluest eyes, galaxies, you’ve ever seen beholden the angel’s reflection. there’s an unearthly promise to the radiance of those irises, something celestial within stark that’s bound to his flesh, ichor pumping through silver veins. scarlet gauntlets grasp gunmetal fingertips to the valkyrie suit, holds her easily in place. his mouth curls into a smile that can be felt. “but i’m your fool in a tin can, so who’s really the fool here? the fool or the fool that follows him?” his eyes twinkle, laughing in the sun.

@godblooded gets a kiss from angela.

"You're a fool in a tin can," Angela says to them, and even with her tall stature, she has to look up to Stark in the suit. Luckily for her, the visor remains open to see the youthful, scarred face in under, and she uses the jet propulsion on her Valkyrie response suit to levitate just high enough to press her chapped lips to theirs.

[godblooded]

@gravegardened asked: i'm not crying. i'm angry. / kara for dad

a hand settles on the kryptonian’s shoulder, father sitting down as both prosthetics plop loudly into the pool she’s half seated in. dissonant smile pops onto his lips, quiet, solemn in its way. the silvering galaxies in frost eyes settle like stardust.

“you can do both, precious one. in fact, i do an awful lot.”

he’s a cryer, a bigger truth has never been more obvious. he cries when he’s happy, upset, angry. when all those feelings he remembers being unable to hold as a child wash over him, he cries. he might get close just thinking about his daughter crying, even.

he never spites himself for that one. he used to, but he’s learned.

his hand never moves from her shoulder. he tucks his chin there kindly and those constellations settle on the nebula that she is, the gravity kara alone creates that can only be understood between a father and his most beloved child.

“you wanna talk about it?”

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Off Limits | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! @alana-32 sent me this suggestion:

"I wanted to ask if you could imagine writing a "oneshot" in which bucky meets a funny, open-minded young woman on a barbecue in Clints house. Fascinated by her big brown eyes, he immediately asks for a date. How would he react if she introduces herself as Tony's younger sister .... Do they both have a future, is he going on the date?😘🤗" so here we go!

Thanks @alana-32 for sending me this, I hope you like it! 🥰

Please send me any comments, requests, or suggestions yall may have!

tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @emetophilily 💘

------------------------------------

Warm, amber pools surrounded by a dark, chocolatey outline entranced Bucky and left him completely helpless. He'd been unable to think about anything besides your eyes since chatting with you in Clint's kitchen. This attempt at normalcy seemed strange to Bucky, what was the point of keeping his family a secret if Clint was just going to invite a bunch of people over for a barbecue? -but he'd decided to attend anyway at the not so gentle prodding of Sam and Steve.

"Um, hello? Sargeant Barnes... Are you okay?" you asked gently. It seemed like he was lost in his own mind even though he'd been just fine a little while ago when you'd spoken to him in the kitchen.

Your voice snapped Bucky back to reality, pulling his focus from the mental picture of your gorgeous eyes so that he could look at the real things. The sun fell across your face in the perfect way, making your caramel colored irises almost glow. Sam and Steve had been badgering Bucky relentlessly about putting himself out there, but he’d been hesitant. He hadn’t had any real desire to date- until he met you. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared to ask you out, something he hadn’t done in a very long time.

"Oh, hey! Yeah, I'm good. I'm great, actually" he said with a smile. "I realized I never got your name, though".

"Right, my bad," you said extending your hand.

Ice ran through Bucky's veins at your words. Your last name pierced his chest, making him unable to breathe. ‘Of fucking course', he thought.

"Stark…” he repeated. “So you- you're Tony's sister". His hopes were dashed.

"Yup! That's me, I'm Tony's sister. Nice to officially meet you, James".

Bucky's heart sank. He knew that Tony had a younger sister, but he'd heard that you were working in France or Italy or something as a museum curator- he had not been at all prepared to meet you at a casual barbecue. Guilt washed over him as he thought about what he did to your parents. To your family. To you.

"You can um, you can call me Bucky. If you want.” Sweat beaded on his brow, his mouth ran dry. “And um... I’m sor- I'm really sorry. About your parents, I mean. What I did… I can't-"

You raised a hand to quiet his anxious, guilty rambling.

"Bucky, you don't have to apologize. I forgave you- I forgave you a long time ago, actually. I know Tony's reaction wasn't... great.” He’d told you the whole story, every gory detail. You chastised him for the way he reacted, the way he destroyed Bucky’s arm. “But, I've had time to deal with everything. And don't tell Tony, but I actually talked to Steve about it. He kind of gave me insight about everything that happened to you... I know it wasn't your fault".

Bucky let out a relieved exhale. He'd been working on his amends, but hadn't been mentally prepared to add yet another name to his list today.

"That's um- that's really great of you, thank you" he said quietly, a sad smile flickering across his face.

"Sure. I'm so sorry about Tony, he's... he's something, isn't he?"

Bucky laughed and nodded emphatically, finally feeling his tense muscles relax ever so slightly

It was short lived, however. Tony approached with some bullshit excuse, something about Laura asking for your help in the kitchen.

"That's my sister, Barnes. She's off limits, especially to you.” A deep, dark rage seethed behind his eyes. “Don't get any ideas, or I'll finish what I started in Siberia- that's a promise.” He delivered one last glare that nearly sliced Bucky in half before returning to the rest of the group.

Bucky found a seat in a quiet corner of Clint's family farm, silently observing everyone else enjoy the party while all he wanted to do was leave. He knew he should've taken his own car, but Sam and Steve had convinced him to ride with them- specifically so that he couldn't duck out early.

He wondered why he even agreed to come to this get together, why he bothered with trying to connect with you. He’d always be the killer, the monster. Tony was right. He didn’t deserve you, not after what he did.

You thought otherwise.

"Psssst, hey, Barnes." Your sharp whisper snapped him out of his spiral.

He searched around for you until he found your figure standing in the doorway of an old shed. With a quick nod of your head, you motioned for him to join you inside. It was almost embarrassing now readily he followed you like a lost puppy. With an overly casual stroll, Bucky made his way to the shed. He didn’t want to draw suspicion from the other partygoers, especially your brother.

"I thought we could hang out in here, ya know, just the two of us" you handed him a beer. “And maybe hide from Tony”.

"Good idea, because he threatened to kill me earlier..." Bucky grimaced.

An aggravated sigh rumbled out of your chest as you plopped down in an old lawn chair. "He's always doing this kind of thing," you complained. "He's way too overprotective of me, it's fucking annoying".

"Well, I do agree that he's fucking annoying," Bucky laughed, "But I mean, I did, um, kill your parents... “ A wave of nausea crashed over him at the thought. “I feel like I can't blame him if he doesn't want us hanging out."

Bucky sat down across from you on a cooler and stared deeply into the eyes that had cast a spell over him just a few hours earlier.

"He just always thinks he knows better" you huffed, "he still sees me as his baby sister..."

"I had a baby sister..." Bucky murmured quietly, getting lost in his memories of Rebecca- rarely did he let himself think about her. He gave you another sad smile, and you couldn't comprehend how Tony had been so hard on Bucky. He was clearly a good person who'd been through more than anyone could ever imagine.

"Don't worry about what Tony says. I'm gonna be the one threatening him later," you shot him a wink. “And I always win.”

Bucky swallowed hard. He still wanted to ask you out. You were so kind and funny and obviously easy on the eyes, but he knew it would cause a rift between you and Tony.

"Well, it's just that-"

"Just ask me, Barnes."

His heart stopped, "What?"

"We both know that you were just about to ask me out before I told you my name, so just ask me".

Silence filled the small shed for a moment as Bucky gathered the nerve to actually say the words.

"Okay, um, I'd love to take you to dinner. Would you like to go out with me...” he quickly added, “and not tell your brother?"

You giggled and felt your cheeks get hot at his invitation, even though you'd known it was coming.

"I'd be honored, Sargeant Barnes, and there's no fucking way I'm telling my brother."

[wolfqueennamedstark]

When you and your brother don’t get along but he makes your daughter smile and laugh so you put up with his shenanigans anyway @killthebxy

[remys-lucky-franc]

I’m Bringing Sexy Back (To Regency England) - Immortal Heart Society

So this happened because I referred to new series IHS’s baddie Lord Montague as ‘Lord Timberlake’ due to the coiffuring similarities and it made @aquagirl1978 LOL and she made me this:

See how alike they look though?! I’m not crazy.

Literally no one in the world wants this fic, and it’s just stupid, but I had a giggle writing it, so 😆 Also, I genuinely know nothing about JT, if any of you are superfans and I’m way off, it’s just a bit of fun, no ill intent or offence meant 💕

Also it’s just in time for all the good old memes... (At the end if anyone needs a ref point)

Word Count ~3500 (yeah, I’ve gone off)

[MORE] [[MORE]]

In the grandiose but soulless marble bathroom of the Boston penthouse, Justin squeezed his eyes tight-shut, splashing his face with frigid water. He inhaled sharply as the moisture hit his skin, opening his eyes and staring intently at the reflection mirrored back at him. It had been quite a night so far. He’d been courted by ‘The Society’ for a couple of months now and on receiving their latest invite, he had finally acquiesced. Over the course of the evening he’d exchanged pleasantries and mingled with a fusion of intriguing individuals - all very different, very separate people, but all who clearly had gotten the memo: convince him to join. Justin suspected before he arrived, from the exclusive address on the invite alone, the sort of members The Society would have on its roster and he wasn’t surprised - even if most of them were no more than masked silhouettes. Initially when he had exited the elevator and caught sight of all those shaded faces, Justin’s heart stuttered: had he inadvertently accepted an invite to some sort of sexy party? How would he explain this one? ‘Hey Honey - funny story...’ But it didn’t take long to deduce that the disguises were all part of the prestige and served as identity protection rather than a conduit to anyone having any real sort of fun.

The mixer itself had been entertaining enough, but the hushed secrets shared in the drawing room were what had piqued his interested and saw him hiding in the restroom searching his own soul for answers. He’d been trading anecdotes with a handful of members before he was interrupter by a well dressed blonde and ushered through a side door, where he was greeted with a firm handshake by one of the top men within the society (apparently), Richard - Something. Initially Justin had smiled but internally rolled his eyes as he considered how these shady types only ever give out their first names - and how that felt particularly unfair when everyone here knew fine well what his surname was... Richard was perfectly charming and charismatic - in the same faux-caring, calculating way politicians are as they try to snare floating voters. His smile was bright and his words were warm, but his eyes were a stark contrast. The Society’s hoi-polloi were obviously deemed to have played their part in warming him up and now Richard was here to give him the hard-sell: and sell he did.

And at first, it sounded relatively normal. At first. Until Richard started with tall tales of how society members held all of the power in the world through power stones. Initially Justin got to his feet and scoffed - weren’t crystals just for spa days and hippies? This had to be a set up. He scanned the room looking for any clue of a hidden camera, Ashton Kutcher’s sneakers showing from behind a curtain perhaps - but nothing. It all sounded truly ridiculous, but as Richard stood, laying a firm hand on Justin’s shoulder, directing him towards a plush chair, pouring him two fingers of whisky, something held him; fascinated him. Stopped him from barging straight out of the room. Justin observed in silence as Richard thumbed through various documents, showing him photographs, pulling up search data online... Explaining. Convincing. Persuading. Justin didn’t trust the suave smarmy suit as far as he could throw him, but the more Richard divulged of the spiderweb of societal involvement in major global events and current affairs, the more sense it made... And in spite of himself, Justin started to succumb to this strange reality. Every word out of Clever Dick’s mouth was revelational, peeling away one layer after another, after another, until Justin’s mind was blown; his brain hurt the same way it did the first time he watched Inception. He couldn’t bend his mind around why Richard was telling him all this, or why a collective more powerful than The Walt Disney Company would want a musician to join their ranks? Richard shrugged coolly as he continued to play for Justin’s buy in, simply smiling and saying that, as a big pop star, it would be quid pro quo - a very mutually beneficial arrangement. The society had access to the best labels, the best A&R departments, they could get Justin as much airplay, fame and publicity as he wanted.

Justin couldn’t deny it sounded appealing - but what did they want in return? So far it was all ‘quid’ and no ‘quo’. He had to ask. Even the easy, practiced grin on Richard’s face couldn’t offset the glint of ice in his dark eyes and menace in his voice that chilled Justin’s blood.

“Justin, come! Everyone knows that music is what shapes the youth of today! The influence wielded by artists, the loyalty inspired by them, their marketability, it’s simply insurmountable! Think about it, dear boy? If The Society control the music, they control the populace.”

Justin cleared his throat as he sized himself up, readjusting his skinny black tie and squaring his shoulders. Richard must be insane. The Society’s logic was fatally flawed: they couldn’t seriously think that it was possible control the entire world’s population through having a singer in their ranks? It was infeasible. Impossible. But what they were offering him in exchange? Now, that was a very attractive proposition indeed. If he agreed to join, and got all of that out of it, it would be worth it? The Society would surely realise at some point that they couldn’t rule the world through the power of song? Yes, the power of a one-line harmony had already been proven by McDonald’s to sell a shit-tonne of burgers - and while it was a pretty convincing argument, selling fast-food to hungry people was one thing - but full-scale global domination?? That was something else entirely. But if he could ride along on their coat-tails and reap all the benefits until they realised just how crazy that idea had been in the first place...

—- two years later —-

Cash carded his hand through his dark hair, exasperated as he listened to Alana’s latest report, “You all understand that Timberlake is completely out of control, yes?”

Emilio grunted flatly as his head fell into his crossed arms on the table like a five year old ready to play heads-down-thumbs-up, “Yeeeeees.”

Cash bristled further as he looked to Rafe and Kiran for their input, both simply nodding back at him as though to say, ‘yes, we know.’

Alana looked down at her phone, worrying her full bottom lip between her teeth, “It’s worse than you think though, Cash.”

He was instantly on his feet staring at her, Rafe and Kiran leaned forward and Emilio raised one weary brow from his slumped pose, concern evident on all their faces.

Kiran was first to speak, “Alana how can it be worse? Richard’s vanished off the face of the earth. Justin’s last billboard count had him go multi-platinum - again, and his lyrics are becoming...”

Rafe offered flatly, “Odd.” He stood, cracked his neck from side to side and headed towards the small stove, absentmindedly filling a saucepan with water and a packet of instant noodles.

Cash shook his head at Rafe then turned back to glower at the rest of the Inner Circle, “Thank you all for the recap. It’s bleak, we know. Alana?”

Green eyes fixed the room as Alana cleared her throat and mouthed, “One hundred and ninety-four.”

Dumbfounded silence filled the room; jaws hung slack. Until Kiran broke the spell, a spluttering cough turning into an uncomfortable laugh, “One hundred and ninety-four what? Because I know you definitely can’t mean stones. We know the exactly location of over fifty percent of them? They’re safe?”

Rafe, back at the table with his ramen by now, paled as Alana shook her head at a loss for words, red curls bouncing around her shoulders, “How is that possible?”

Alana threw her hands in the air, confessing “I honestly don’t know. But he has ones that we knew the location of, and more besides.”

Cash paced the room, clearly agitated as he cursed and barked,

“That’s every stone in existence, except ours and one other.”

Alana puffed out her cheeks before huffing out the breath sharply, “Correct. He has the lot, excepts ours - and the Garnet.”

Emilio’s hand slid under his shirt, a double-check to be sure his Alexandrite remained firmly on the chain hidden beneath the dark fabric, fiddling with it like a child with a comfort blanket as he spoke, “I- I just don’t understand. How? How did he get so many without us knowing?”

Rafe shrugged as he shovelled a spoonful of noodles into his mouth and chewed thoroughly before answering, “Richard’s protege. His pet project. Nothing surprises me when he’s involved. Everything he touches gets tarnished.”

Alana sighed sadly, “Justin seemed like such a sweet guy when he first joined. I really liked him. I thought he could have been part of our Inner Circle someday.”

Rafe shot her a rueful smile before looking down into the noodles, “Same. He changed. Fast.” Coiling his fork in a thick helping, he swung them into his mouth without ceremony.

Cash pinched the bridge of his nose, stopping pacing for long enough to stare and snap at Rafe,

“What is it with you and those blasted ramen noodles??”

Rafe shook his head silently as though to say, ‘I don’t know’: he wasn’t entirely sure why, but every time someone mentioned Timberlake, he couldn’t stop himself from carb-loading. All he wanted a big bowl of ramen in his belly and he couldn’t think about anything else until he was full of noodley-goodness. He’d eaten more instant ramen in the past couple of years than he did during college, and that was saying something.

Kiran cut through the atmosphere between the two men, venturing, “So how are we going to shut him down?”

—-

Richard had been missing for months, and although all trails had gone cold and no one was one hundred percent clear on what had happened to him, there was very strong suspicion within the group of five that Justin had something to do with it. How else had he managed to acquire almost every power stone in existence? He must have dispensed of Richard and taken them for himself - there really didn’t seem, to be any other explanation. The Inner Circle had been aware that Richard was hoarding stones, but his haul had escalated significantly and quickly with Justin by his side - at the Circle’s last count maybe six to eight months ago, Richard only had sixty-five stones in his custody. The dirty duo had been busy.

Emilio shuddered solemnly as he thought about what must have happened to the rightful owners of those stones. He was at the tower with the Inner Circle, minus Cash. Cash would arrive soon, bringing Justin to the table with him. Creating a rouse of support, and then double-crossing him to recover the power stones had been deemed the only feasible plan. Emilio watched the rest of the group: Rafe stirring at a saucepan at the small kitchen set up, Kiran flipping aimlessly though a fashion magazine and Alana tapping at her cellphone. They were all feeling nervous about this, the stakes had never been so high. He scrubbed his brow as he ran through the various scenarios of what could possibly happen with Cash and Justin arrived.

He didn’t have long to wait as the door opened and laughter reverberated around the room. Cash was manoeuvring Timberlake expertly, and Justin seemed to be lapping up everything he said. A round of smiles and handshakes later everyone sat around the table, eyes expectantly on Cash.

“Justin, firstly, thank you for joining the group here today. As you know, with Richard... Let’s say, elsewhere. I’ve been standing in as the ‘interim leader’. And I’ll be frank, Justin, I always thought it would be for me, but it’s not. And it takes a lot for me to admit that. I can do the decision-making, the negotiations, but what I cannot abide is dealing with attitudes and egos all day long.”

Rafe chortled, “He thinks he should be the only one allowed an attitude and an ego!”

Justin grinned and visibly relaxed within the larger group.

Clearing his throat irately, Cash gestured towards Rafe, “Exactly what I’m talking about. Justin, my calling doesn’t lie in leading The Society. I am more interested in having a less ’public facing position’ shall we say, where I can really put my true talents to use. And that’s why I invited you to sit with us today, Justin.’

Timberlake nodded enthusiastically, “ I see.”

Cash stood, wearing a trail in the carpet as he walked back and forth,

“What are your goals, Justin? We understand you must be distraught about Richard’s disappearance, you two seemed close. Do you have aspirations for The Society’s Leadership? We’ve been observing you for some time, and feel that we could all benefit each other within this little group, everyone here wants to progress and wants ‘more’. And we feel like you may have some ideas that could help us all to achieve just that.”

Justin leaned back in his chair observing the group sat around the table. Of course he knew what his goals were. He’d never really considered leadership of The Society until recently - his mind had been consumed with his plan for ultimate pop domination over the past two years. And he’d progressed so far that it was within his grasp - and that was when he and Richard had begun to clash. Badly. Richard’s vision was so- So limited. He couldn’t see Justin’s potential past being a Society tool used to control the public. Justin knew his worth, he was more than a tool for Richard to implement as he saw fit. He felt the anger bubble inside him as he recalled the final fight with Richard. They could have controlled the entire world together: why couldn’t Richard have seen that? Why couldn’t he have got on board with Justin’s plans? As he sized up the twelve eyes watching him, he thought about the dozens of power stones locked securely in the safe in his apartment: these people could see his strength. His power. His star ascending. He leaned forward, his decision made,

“I have acquired many power stones and my plan is, to use our time-travelling abilities to go back in time and wipe other pop stars from existence, so that I am the single biggest pop star in the world today. Then with my influence, The Society will control everything. We, friends, will control the world.”

Alana and Kiran eyeballed each other as the men nodded at Justin.

Kiran interjected,

“There’s no doubt that The Society would benefit from that sort of influence, but what about all of the damage that would be done to culture and humanity without artists?”

Justin looked confused as he stared at her, “But they’d still have me?”

Kiran chewed the statement over before asking, “And who are you going after? Are we talking about Elvis? The Beatles? Frank Sinatra?”

Justin waved a hand as though he’d practiced this very conversation in the mirror a hundred times, “No, no. Only today’s artists. I can’t disrupt anyone who directly or indirectly influenced my career. Butterfly Effect and all.”

The Inner Circle nodded sagely as Justin continued, “And when my plan is complete, who, I ask you, will be the biggest pop star in the world??”

Alana glanced up grimacing, “I don’t know Justin, I mean Lady Gaga is pretty huge? Iconic, even.”

Emilio shook his head, “Right now, Ariana Grande’s the biggest artist in the world, I read it somewhere.”

Justin fixed them both with an affronted stare, “But think about it, if none of them ever existed... Then who would be the biggest pop star in the world?”

Alana and Emilio exchanged a world-weary glance as Justin cackled, “Guess what? It’s gonna be me.”

Rafe scrunched his nose, confused, speaking through a mouthful of ramen, “May? What? Are the Emmy’s not always in September?”

Cash shotshim a withering glance before grinning at Justin, “You’ve thought a lot about his haven’t you?”

Justin, visibly flattered, shrugged off Cash’s praise, “Just a little.”

Cash leaned towards Justin conspiratorially, “So tell us, what more do you need to make your dreams a reality, and how could we, as a group, facilitate that?”

—-

Over the next few weeks the Inner Circle had planned for two consecutive missions. One intricate scheme with Justin, that involved him travelling back over two hundred years to Regency England to secure the Garnet power stone from a Lady Foxworthy. And their own private secondary mission that involved luring Justin back to Regency England where there was no power stone to be found.

When the day to venture back in time arrived, Justin paraded around the tower preening in the mirror at his era-appropriate garb. Kiran had stitched it to perfection, a beautifully embroidered waistcoat over his cravat, fitted cream pants and a midnight blue, velvet long-tailed coat that really made his eyes pop. Rafe let out a low whistle, winking at Justin’s reflection in the mirror, “Looking sharp! Nice work Kiran.” This look was a definitely a step up from double denim!

Kiran moved around Justin turning him, dusting down his shoulders, “Oh hold up, you have a thread. Let me just get that for you. Can’t have you looking less than perfect!” She reached for her scissors and touched the back of his jacket whilst swiftly clipping a tuft of hair from the back of his head.

The corners of Cash’s mouth quirked upwards at her almost imperceptibly as he spoke, “Very elegant, good Sir. You look quite the part.”

Justin gave Cash a delighted twirl to show off his new threads before performing a low, sweeping bow - completely unaware of his missing locks - speaking in a haughty-sounding English accent, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Tarkhan, I am Lord Timberlake.”

Alana had to swig at a cup of water to stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter, it was like the only English person he’d ever heard speak before was Queen Elizabeth herself! Cash raised an eyebrow in her direction before addressing Justin, “You’re definitely comfortable travelling back alone, because it would only take Alana here a few minutes to change into something suitable and accompany you?”

Justin waved a hand dismissing the suggestion, quite honestly he didn’t want anyone cramping his style. It wasn’t Justin’s first time in Regency England - when he and Richard had travelled there previously he’d had a ball. He had exactly eight hours to get there, get the Garnet, have some fun in a previous era and get back - and then. Then a whole new era would begin. His era... Leader of the most powerful Society in the world and the biggest pop star in history. Justin grinned as he stepped forward, placing his hands around the ornate pocket watch and beginning the arcane chant to begin his voyage through time. The rest of the Inner Circle joined the chant, turning back the clocks within the tower as Justin’s world started to blur at the edges, drifting backwards through two hundred years of history.

After Justin was gone, a series of stealthy grins were exchanged around the group. Emilio breathed a sigh of relief, “We did it.”

Kiran tossed the little velvet bag with Justin’s hair inside to Cash - their insurance policy, should he need to be dealt with ‘more permanently’ at a later date. Today’s plan didn’t involve the singer being turned into a surprised-looking statue, just giving him an extended stay in Regency England instead... The garnet wasn’t there - in fact, there were no stones left there. It was common knowledge within the Inner Circle where the garnet was: firmly on the finger of Richard’s blissfully unaware and estranged daughter - passed down by his long-missing wife. A point that Timberlake was sadly remiss of: they all had banked on Richard never disclosing a topic so sore as his failure as a father out of pure pride and vanity - and they’d been correct...

Now there was nothing more to do than wind all the clocks back to the correct time, then sit and wait until Justin would try to get back.

—-

Seven and three-quarter hours later, the group within the tower saw a blurry portal loom in the corner of the room. Suddenly alert, they listened intently as Justin’s voice crackled through,

“Rafe, Cash, guys! Are you there? Help me! I can’t... I can’t get back! Alana?? The ritual, it’s not working, I’m not fading back through??”

Cash drawled as he examined his fingernails, looking thoroughly bored,

“Ah, so our little ritual worked then. Good to know.”

The passage through time became narrower and narrow as a sickening realisation suckerpunched Justin, panic rising like bile in his throat, “You... You did this on purpose!! You screwed me over!! You bastards!!!!”

As the portal flickered and shrunk to no more than a pinhole, echoes of the roars of their names reverberated around the room, until the gap sealed itself trapping Lord Timberlake in Regency England for ever more. Silence settled over the tower for a few moments, until Rafe glanced up at the rest of the group thorough his sweeping fringe, a smirk slowly stretching from ear to ear as he shrugs,

“Cry me a river...”

[astormofagirl]

Sansa tag drop !

[godblooded]

Marry Stark, absolutely

boy genius beams in a vibrant grin, a reckless look on his oh-so-charming, metallically-shimmery visage. the helmet shards burned into his brow somehow serve to make him handsomer, expression entirely reckless, entirely himself.

“oh. uh. thank you, shawn.”